Years ago, I documented a fading beauty of a house and listened with interest (schooling my face into an impassive mask) as I was informed that the reason for its decline was a battle among the heirs to the house and farm. The narrator of this sad tale was none other than the “spurned heir” – his words, not mine. This quirky exchange came to mind over the weekend when I learned of the threat to the fairly magnificent Cox-Hord House in downtown Maysville, Kentucky. The Cox-Hord House – apparently a victim of too many heirs and too many arguments (and a resulting lack of action) – has been condemned and wavers on the cusp of demolition.
Update: As of March 31, 2021, the house has been taken OFF of the city’s demolition list, and I have been told there is a buyer waiting to restore the house!
The façade of the Cox-Hord House, circa 1978. Photograph from the National Register of Historic Places files.
According to an October 24, 2020 article in the Ledger Independent, “the house has been condemned by the city.” Only one demolition bid was received, according to Mayor Charles Cotterill – for $89,000 – which is “more than Cotterill said he was willing for taxpayers to shoulder.” The issue of what to do with the Cox-Hord House will apparently be on the Maysville City Commission agenda on Thursday night, November 12, 2020.
A detail of the squared, two story bay window on the façade.
I appreciate the Mayor’s reluctance to foist the demolition bill onto Maysville residents…so how about selling the 2.5-story brick house with a preservation covenant/deed restriction that stipulates its restoration? The Cox-Hord House is listed in the National Register of Historic Places, so it is eligible for historic tax credits which would help with stabilizing and restoring the house.
Rear elevation of the house. I love, love, love that porch.
I first saw the Cox-Hord House in 2015 and like the diligent (obsessive?) architectural historian I am, snapped a few photographs of its exterior. I knew little of its past until some folks reached out to me on Instagram last week about its precarious state.
A section of the 1886 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Maysville, showing the Cox-Hord House (noted by blue arrow).
The Cox-Hord House was built for its first owner, Andrew Cox, in 1880. The dwelling was designed by Edwin Anderson, a Cincinnati, Ohio based architect. Late 19th century domestic architecture in America owes much to the word “eclectic.” The Cox-Hord House, with its asymmetrical footprint, three-story tower, and a façade that wouldn’t know the meaning of restraint, is nothing if not eclectic.
The double entry doors on the façade. And I bet those screen doors are original.
The house joyfully defies characterization – some architects of the Victorian period (usually defined as between 1860-1900) liked to include as many embellishments, ornament, and shapes on their designs as possible. It’s what makes houses of that time – whether architect-designed or vernacular – so interesting.
Touches like this are always appreciated by historians – the date of construction helpfully incised on a lintel.
Andrew Cox’s success – and fortune – are personified in the dwelling built for him. A native of Fleming County (or Montgomery County according to some sources – his mother was a Gist), Cox was living with his young wife, the former Mary Thomas, and infant daughter in Maysville in 1870. The couple – he was 25, and she was 19 – lived with Mary’s mother, and Andrew’s occupation was listed as a newspaper publisher.
The staircase in the Cox-Hord House, circa 1978. Photograph from the National Register of Historic Places files.
By 1880, Cox ran the Calhoun and Atkinson Plow Works – and that year his house – a tall, commanding presence with an elaborate exterior and luxurious interior – was completed. The house cost around $49,000 to build – adjusting for inflation, that would be around $1.25 million today.
A detail of the tower and porch on the façade.
Although my only knowledge of the interior comes from glimpses through the window sash, the interior apparently originally featured woodcarvings by William Henry Fry of Cincinnati.
The rear elevation in happier days, circa 1978. Photograph from the National Register of Historic Places files.
The floorplan includes five main rooms (with 14-foor high ceilings) and a central hallway on the first floor, six rooms (with 12-foot high ceilings) on the second, and the attic contains four rooms – with 10-foot high ceilings!
A detail of the woodwork and interior shutters in the house, circa 1978. Photograph from the National Register of Historic Places files.
Andrew Cox only enjoyed six years in his house. On January 1, 1886, he disappeared.
For five months his wife and four children lived with the mystery and agony of the unknown. Then in May 1886, his body was found “floating down the river near Logan’s Gap.” Letters in his handwriting, some keys, and marks on his clothing “left no doubt it was the remains of our lamented citizen.”*
In July 1886, Andrew Cox’s plow works was listed for sale in the Daily Evening Bulletin.
The house apparently stayed in the Cox family until 1897, when it was sold to Milton Russell. It changed hands again in 1926 and became the home of Rebekah H. Hord, Kentucky’s first female elected mayor. Mrs. Hord served two terms as Maysville’s mayor, and the Cox-Hord House remains in the hands of her heirs – one of whom apparently also served as mayor.
The wrought iron fence in front of the house.
It’s always an aching sensation to peer at the exterior of a fading local landmark and observe its decline, especially when its clear it was built with purpose, skill, and exceptional materials. It wasn’t just a family home – it was constructed as a statement of Andrew Cox’s social status and standing.
I claim no knowledge of how the Cox-Hord House reached its current impasse – when I first saw it five years ago, my questions about its seeming abandonment were met with shaking heads and talk of family members who couldn’t – or wouldn’t – do anything about the house. I only hope it isn’t too late, and that the Cox-Hord House doesn’t vanish just like Andrew Cox did on New Year’s Day so many years ago.
*May 23, 1886 edition of the Evening Bulletin. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/data/batches/kyu_excalibur_ver01/data/sn87060189/00206533675/1886052501/0320.pdf
What a heart wrenching story. It makes me think about the commitment it takes to own a historic home or buildings. The upkeep and maintenance can be costly, finding repeatable contractors that understand and cares for the historic integrity of the building is challenging. It is a high burden to uphold. However, that level of commitment may need to go a little farther to insure that, once we (the care takers of such estates) are gone, the house/building is passed on to someone or entity that will both appreciate the historic property and ensure its upkeep. This may be an impossible task but something that I will consider with the Denny House, in Paint Lick moving forward.
Thanks for continuing to document KY historic homes and buildings and the thought provoking aspect of this story!