I am not
much of a country girl – ask anyone… my idea of roughing it is checking into
the Ritz and Room Service is closed for the night. But every once in a while,
I run across a gorgeous ‘country’ home that just tugs at my heart strings. And
thanks to Country Living Magazine, I found one in this little 18th Century
Farm.
With its
Revolutionary War pedigree, this New York
When the present owners bought this 1790s home eight years ago, they hoped not
just to preserve history, but to make it. Constructed by Revolutionary War
Lieutenant Jonathan Chapman, (who is now buried right across the street from the property) on land granted by George Washington, the
center-hall Colonial in Old Chatham, New York, came with 17 acres and a
20,000-square-foot 1940s barn (pictured above)... but this required a big renovation.
The Kitchen is 'a little downstairs at Downton
Abbey' admits
the homeowner. The black cabinetry are limited to lower units, in order to
install a bank of windows at eye level, after all sometimes the view is more important
than storage in a home, especially this one.
Even fine antiques, such as the 19th-century Louis Philippe secretary, invite everyday use in the home. Made of Cuban mahogany, the piece is constructed with beautiful
dovetailed joints, and yet is perfect for everyday use, like their son’s
schoolwork.
The décor boasts a taxidermied pheasant and a
vase picked up in Mexico
The homeowner crafted a hutch for his wife's
birthday and a farm table that once served as his desk (show in photo of bed).
Personal ties trump period accuracy. To help make this space their own: An assortment of family
photos hangs above the mid-century armoire.
In the Master Bath, antique tables store towels and toiletries. A vintage trifold shaving mirror and narrow
wire shelf take the place of a medicine cabinet.
Isn’t this ‘Step Back in Time’ of simplicity a wonderful escape from a high-tech, crowded life? I can only image how this
peaceful space feeds a loving creative environment for the homeowners and their family inside.
