Also known
as the Zorn House, the Greek Revival house was built between
1854 and 1856 by Joshua Young. Actually, he probably only supervised
the construction. Slaves did the real work. That process consisted
of putting up wooden forms and then pouring in limecrete to make
the foundation and walls.
The obvious question: Why concrete? A construction material most
people associate with the urban sprawl of the 20th century, its
use actually dates to Roman times. Its use was not common in 19th
century Texas, except around Seguin,
where some houses were built of limecrete as early as the late 1840s.
The answer, as laid out in a archeological investigation done by
the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, is that while lumber for
more traditional frame houses had to come by wagon from the port
city of Indianola,
gravel and limestone could be had in plentiful supply right there
in Guadalupe County.
Enough timber was available along the Guadalupe
River for building the forms for concrete walls. And there was
no shortage of water.
Bricks also could be made locally--and were--but that was a more
labor-intensive process and using bricks in construction took a
higher skill level than generally available.
But with ample raw material, slave labor and enough craftsmen who
knew how to properly mix concrete, building structures that way
made plenty of sense. The concept of energy conservation had not
been invented yet, but concrete houses obviously were better insulated
than frame structures, staying cooler in the summer and being easier
to heat in the winter. Once the concrete set and thoroughly dried,
a coat of whitewash was applied. That reflected sunlight, which
made the structures even more energy efficient.
Young sold his concrete house to his sister Catherine LeGette in
1857 and it remained in her family until 1874, when Joseph Zorn
Jr. purchased it. A businessman, Zorn went on to serve as Seguin's
mayor from 1890 to 1910. He and his wife raised six children in
the house, which stayed in his family's possession until 1961 when
Zorn's granddaughter Hazel Tegener sold the house to the Seguin
Conservation Society.
The
uniqueness of the house had been recognized as early as 1936, when
the Depression-era Historic American Buildings program surveyed
and photographed the structure. The house became a registered Texas
historical landmark in 1964 and was added to the National
Register of Historic Places in the summer of 1970.
The Seguin conservation group renovated the house and kept it open
to the public until 1976, when the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department
bought it and when additional funding became available transformed
it into the Sebastopol State Historical Park. Before stabilizing
and restoring the old house, the state contracted for a thorough
archeological investigation of the structure.
Archeologists recovered more than 100,000 artifacts in excavating
beneath the floors and around the foundation of the house. The 15-foot
deep limecrete cistern near the house contained a huge cache of
artifacts, from broken dishes to old medicine bottles. The most
striking was an object that tends to prove the belief that slaves
worked and lived on the property: a rare black ceramic toy called
a Charlie doll.
The state maintained the historic structure until 2011, when during
a period of state government financial belt-tightening, TPWD conveyed
the house and the 2.2 acres around it to the City of Seguin.
So,
what's up with the name "Sebastopol"? Young built the house as the
Crimean War raged in Europe. Sebastopol--now commonly spelled with
a "v" instead of a "b" was an important Russian-controlled port.
Beginning in 1854 and continuing into the following year, British,
French and Ottoman forces laid siege to the city. The Russians finally
withdrew, sinking their fleet in the harbor to prevent its use by
their enemies.
Why Young thought that Ukraine city on the Black Sea would be a
catchy name in Texas can only be speculated on. Could be he was
of British descent or at least sympathetic to the allies fighting
Russia. Maybe he simply liked the uniqueness of the name.
© Mike
Cox
"Texas Tales" June
15, 2017 column
|