To my chagrin, I’ve written more about the demolition of Second Empire style houses in Kentucky than I’ve penned stories about still-standing examples of the relatively rare style. Rare in the Commonwealth at least – due to a number of factors, the Second Empire style never really caught on in Kentucky – with the exception of the northern part of the state. Last fall, the only Second Empire style house in Mt. Sterling, Kentucky, was demolished after years of neglect. The Henry and Leila Bush Woodford House was a quirky example of the style. Had it simply been maintained, it would be a distinctive and singular architectural delight to the surrounding historic district.
The Henry and Leila Bush Woodford House, September 2022.
In April 1881, Leila Bush Woodford purchased lot #13 in M.M. Clay’s subdivision of H.C. Howard’s land. Her parcel cost $375.00.
Section of the 1879 Beers and Lanagan Map of Montgomery County, Kentucky, showing Clay Street in downtown Mt. Sterling. The arrow indicates roughly where Leila Bush Woodford’s parcel was located.
The next part of the story is all conjecture on my part – although the Bush family (Leila was the daughter of Valentine W. Bush) is well-known in Winchester, and the Woodford family has deep roots in Mt. Sterling, I am not privy to the personal details of Leila and Henry. While Leila performed the traditional role of spouse and mother, Henry, a lawyer, dabbled in politics, but I don’t believe he ever won a race to hold public office.
From the August 14, 1894 edition of the Mt. Sterling Advocate.
Were either one of them happy in the positions proscribed to them by their socioeconomic status? I can’t claim to know, but like all of us, Henry and Leila had their ups and downs.
The house, facing northeast.
I like to think the construction of this house – when they were still newlyweds – was a happy occasion. Presumably, they went about the business of hiring someone to build a house on their lot (Henry was not, apparently, a carpenter). Oral tradition points to the designer/architect of that dwelling as Frank Fitch (the Fitch name being shown on the above map).
The Woodford Brothers of Mt. Sterling – Henry is the second from the left. Undated photo from the Woodford Family Files.
Frank Fitch is best known for his namesake iron furnace, the Fitchburg Furnace, built in 1867 in Estill County, Kentucky. This “industrial vision” was developed by Frank, his brother Fred, and other investors.* And while this post is not about the Fitchburg Furnace, it is a magnificent sight. But back to Frank – in addition to his work with furnaces, he designed churches (the Church of the Ascension in Mt. Sterling) and houses.
This was the home of Frank Fitch, across from his namesake furnace. I am going out on a limb to say he designed this elegant concoction (which later burned). Image from the US Forest Service at https://www.fs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_DOCUMENTS/stelprdb5282334.pdf
So let’s say Leila approached Frank Fitch for his help in designing a house for she and her husband. Leila was only 23 years old at the time, and had been married only around a year. Although the 1900 census records her as having born seven children, with five children living, I don’t know if there were any children yet in the spring of 1881. The lot wasn’t the biggest one on Clay Street, and the dwelling that emerged – either from Frank Fitch’s mind or another source – was not the largest nor most ostentatious building. But it was very interesting.
The upper story and its mansard roof.
The two-story, five bay wide frame house was, despite its second story mansard roof, just a variation on the T-plan, a common house form in Kentucky during the 19th and 20th centuries.
The house in better times, late 1970s.
There were three rooms on first floor originally, with one room pushed forward on the facade to project past the rest of the plane of the house. This projecting bay had two elongated, 2/2 double-hung sash windows with pedimented lintels. The angle of the thrust-forward bay was obscured by the enclosed vestibule entry containing the central entry door, shielded by a flared shed roof hood on brackets.
Detail of the entry bay, looking northwest.
To the right (east) of the entry door was a narrow porch, with turned and chamfered posts and all the sawn work details one would expect to see on a fashionable house in the late 19th century. The porch wrapped around the east elevation of the house, and the room behind it must have been a delight to occupy. Full-length, four light French doors, with pedimented lintels like the rest of the openings, pierced the facade wall and east elevation, creating a space with sun in the morning and afternoon, and a buffer against that same light infiltration.
Detail of French door leading from vestibule onto porch and identical door on facade of house.
The main entry door led into a very narrow stair hall (as I stated, this wasn’t the most expansive of dwellings), with a room to either side. (The French door to the side of the entry door must have provided a sense of spaciousness to an otherwise economical entryway.) The interior of the house was not in the best of shape when I went through it, so some of my exploration was stymied by unsafe flooring conditions and lots of debris and furniture.
Interior of the first floor stair hall.
The most interesting thing to me on the interior of the house was the treatment of the passage (hallway) on the second story and the access into the rooms. Originally, there were only three chambers (rooms, and almost certainly bedrooms) on the second story. The two largest rooms were at the front of the house, the third (smallest) room was possibly accessed through the west front room.
Section of the 1890 Sanborn showing the footprint of the house.
Between 1890 (the first Sanborn map to depict Clay Street) and 1901, the series of one-story frame additions stretching to the rear of the house had been extensively altered. There was now a two story section at the rear of the house, and access was needed from the main staircase into these new rooms.
Detail on the staircase.
My conjecture is that at this time, another opening was cut into the small back bedroom, as well as into the original rear wall of the house, resulting in a landing at the top of the stairs that led in three directions – west into the third original bedroom, north into the new addition, and south, toward the original two rooms at the front of the house. It was a convenient modification, but a bit cramped. (Could the third bedroom have always been accessed from the top of the stairs? Why yes, anything is possible. But it was an awkward opening, and an entry from the front bedroom would be a better use of space – besides providing handy access to a bedroom with small children in residence.)
The landing of many directions.
One of the original upstairs rooms at the front of the house.
It was hard to see much original interior fabric in the house, other than the stair hall photos above. Decades of neglect had taken a toil on the house, and the rear ell was near collapse.
An original coal burning surround in one of the upstairs bedrooms.
Although the land transfers and census records are not the most transparent, I believe Henry and Leila had sold the house by 1897. They were still living on Clay Street in 1900, but whether they were renting or in another house is not clear. By 1910, they had removed to the country, where Henry was trying his hand at farming.
During the demolition. This view, I believe, is of the third small bedroom on the second floor. The doorway on the right in the photo was the one leading from the staircase.
Many years later, Leila and Henry’s house would find its way back into the Woodford family, where it was restored, before eventually suffering a slow decline and then demolition. Today the lot is clear and being prepped for the construction of a new house – rebuilding and infill is a process that has gone on for over 125 years in the neighborhood, but it is a loss nonetheless that Henry and Leila’s house is now but a memory.
*United States Forest Service, https://www.fs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_DOCUMENTS/stelprdb5282334.pdf
What a shame! I love Mansard roofs. I first noticed one in Cohasset, MA many years ago. I had no idea what it was but someone, probably my Dad, eventually told me all about mansard roofs. Have loved them ever since. Love the pictures, particularly the five men. Amazing clothes too.
When you see the way home construction is done these days, it is even more of a shame that all these beautiful old buildings aren’t rescued.
Sad, indeed. My two bachelor uncles (Thornton and William Woodford) lived there during my early years. It was in about the condition one would expect for two old men, but certainly livable, and a joy to visit both it and them.
After their deaths, my brother Chenault purchased the house and undertook quite an impressive renovation. During that time, it was very much a “model” home in the sense of being true to its architectural integrity.
My brother purchased and moved into our “family” home on West High Street after the death of my Mother in 1980. Shortly afterward, he and his wife divorced and he gave the Clay Street house to her. She remarried and, unfortunately, the home began a very protracted decline until being razed upon the deaths of her and her husband.
The photos of the interior are both sad and shocking. The house held many good memories for me, and its decline was pathetic.
I might also add that at one time there was a substantial two-story garage or barn behind the home, which housed many quaint and exotic items. One such item was a deer head bequeathed to me by a distant relative. As a kid, I desperately wanted that deer head, but my uncles forbade it because they feared that it might carry disease
This home was beside my sister’s house. Before the last owners passed, I had to go inside to get help for the lady, who had fallen, and was trapped in the backyard, but refused an ambulance. I was terrified as I entered the home, and couldn’t believe people in such poor health were living in such conditions. It was truly shocking, and any reports I made were seemingly ignored. Truly a sad situation.
I absolutely loved reading your memories, these are the ones that should be spoken..
Oh my! I’m so grateful for these pictures!! I spent so many days and nights in this house with Ann and Chuck (Bartel). I went by there to show my kids where I spent so much time especially as a teenager, And was heartbroken to see it was just an empty lot. I had to pull over and have a moment. 💗
I passed the house on my way to school everyday in the 1950s. It always held a bit of mystery. I believe the uniqueness of the architecture and the uniqueness of two bachelor brothers residing there created the perspective. God memories, but sad for the demise of the house. I am, however, looking forward to the new construction.
Thank you for your great research