Tucked beside one of our cozy tables—just before you pass into the bar—you’ll find a long, worn stretch of wood with a quiet presence and a story that spans centuries. At first glance, it might seem like just an old panel, but this piece of wainscoting is a rare surviving original, deeply tied to the craftsmanship and care that built this Tavern long ago.
This 24-foot length of wood was once mounted horizontally along the dining room walls, but has since been cut into three sections and turned 90 degrees from how it originally rested. It was part of a full wainscot system that wrapped the lower half of the room, a detail both functional and fashionable in its day. While it now serves as a subtle historical feature, its original role was quite practical: to protect the plaster walls behind it from the everyday bumps, scrapes, and shuffles of tavern life.
Wainscoting has a long and storied past, with roots reaching back to 16th-century Holland. It spread throughout Europe and colonial America as both a form of ornamentation and a shield for the vulnerable walls in busy homes and public spaces. Plaster, especially as it ages, can be temperamental. A misplaced chair or even a hard knock could send cracks rippling across the surface—or worse, send a chunk crumbling to the floor. In spaces like this, where conversation flows and chairs are drawn back with the ease of regular company, protecting the plaster was essential.
And so came the wainscoting—crafted from hard, resilient wood, chosen as much for its strength as its beauty. What makes our panel so special isn’t just its survival—it’s how it was made. The side facing you now is actually the back of the board. We chose to mount it this way to proudly reveal the original axe cuttings—marks left by the hands that first shaped it. It’s a rare chance to see history in the raw. The front side, now hidden, was carefully carved with an adze, a traditional woodworking tool used to smooth and straighten the surface so it could sit flush against the wall.
Above it, there once ran a chair rail—a slim but smart addition that caught the tops of chairs before they could ding the wainscoting below. Together, these elements created a layered system of defense for the delicate walls, while offering a refined look that spoke to the quality of the workmanship within these rooms.
In a time before drywall and quick repairs, every board had a purpose, and every cut was made with intention. This stretch of wainscoting—born of a tree large enough to give 24 continuous feet of timber—has seen generations of stories unfold in this space. Today, it stands quietly beside the bar, a tribute to the hands that built the Tavern and the thoughtful design that kept it standing.
So next time you stop by, take a closer look. Run your fingers along the grain. Those are the marks of time, of tools, and of tradition. A humble reminder that even the smallest details can carry the deepest roots.