It's been called "the grandest bon-bon of them all," but Ann Starrett simply called this glorious Queen Ann mansion home. Nowadays you can, too, thanks to the hospitality of Bob and Edel Sokol, who own this Port Townsend, Washington Victorian Inn. Sublimely situated on a bluff overlooking Puget Sound, the Ann Starrett Mansion was built by wealthy contractor George E. Starrett in 1899 for his bride, Ann.
Not only was the house built in Queen Anne style, but George was so besotted with his new wife that he hired a New York artist George Chapman to create a solar calendar for the rare, eight-sided dome tower, using Ann's likeness for each of the Four Seasons and Four Virtues depicted there. Ruby-colored glass was installed in each of the tower's small dormer windows. Now, when the sun shines on the first day of each season, a beam of red light is projected onto the panel that represents the appropriate time of year, recalling George's passion for the woman he loved.
The dome tower also has another extraordinary feature. While strolling downtown one day, George Starrett encountered an itinerant worker who agreed to build a free-standing staircase all the way to the top. George took a gamble and hired the man, who sealed off the mansion while the work was done. To this day, no one knows exactly how the staircase was built. The present owners received an offer from the Smithsonian to tear down and rebuild the staircase to determine its mysterious origins. So far, they have not been eager to comply!
Although the architectural details were his province, in typical Victorian fashion, when it came to designing the mansion's interior, George handed the reins to his wife. Ann proceeded to adorn their home with remarkable frescoed ceilings, stained glass, carved lions from her family crest, doves and ferns.
"That's why we re-named the mansion after Ann," explains Edel, a native of Germany whose decorating skills have added warmth and visual appeal to the inn. One of Edel's favorite purchases includes the 18th century Belgian tapestry that adorns the spiral staircase. She got it at a good price from a local restorer who knew she was the only likely customer in Port Townsend, because the Mansion is the only house in town big enough to accommodate its generous proportions.
The Sokols learned of the Starrett Mansion in 1984, while living in Iowa City. "We saw it while leafing through National Geographic magazine," recalls Edel. Two years later, the couple traveled west (just as George Starrett did in 1880 when he left Thomaston, Maine) in search of a better climate and a profession that would enable them to work together. "At every place we stopped along the way," recalls Edel, "Bob would ask how much snowfall they got there." When they reached the Victorian seaport of Port Townsend - where snow rarely flies and the winds chase away the rains - they saw a "For Sale" sign outside the Starrett Mansion. "We've found our new house!" Edel cried.
Several other potential buyers had considered the elegant Victorian during the three years it stood empty, but the cost of restoring it frightened all of them away. Always the pragmatists, the Sokols, who became the home's ninth owners, moved into the attic while undertaking restorations and gave themselves five years to live in the house. If the business wasn't up and running by then, said Bob, a former broker and navigator who flew air force One during the Carter administration , they would sell. Ten years later, business is fine and to avoid burnout, the Sokols no longer live on-site.
"When we came here, there was green wallpaper with ships and red flowers on it in the parlor. I found it very distressing," says Edel. The couple soon befriended Virginia Starrett, a family descendant, who became an invaluable source for their restoration plans. When Virginia mentioned that Ann had not used wallpaper in the house originally, Edel stripped off the offending green wallcovering. She then painted the walls to match the robin's blue frescoes that a previous owner had discovered beneath several layers of wallpaper, paint and soot. Part of the Five Year Plan was to undertake one major restoration job each year. The frescoes and lime "explosions" (white marks that leached out onto the surface of wall paintings from the plaster below) on the Four Seasons were repaired three years ago, Roof repairs alone were a costly $25,000, and the installation of private baths reached a similar figure.
As for decorating, "I used to search for things in the beginning,' says Edel. "Now they just sort of jump out at me or people contact us." For example, Edel discovered the cane displayed on the front parlor table in nearby Seattle, while the antique ginger jar was found in Vancouver, Canada's Chinatown. She purchased the Victorian couch and chair in the alcove beneath the Wedding Arch, as it is called, from a man who came to her in need of money for his family. "I'm an eclectic person," admits Edel. "I don't have rules about design. In this house, I try to stick to Victorian, but I'm always evolving - one corner at a time."
The house is constantly changing as well, whether it's some aspect of restoration or the addition of life's little amenities. "Because George Starrett had central heating installed in 1899," explains Edel, "he purposely excluded fireplaces from the home as a sign of his wealth and modernity." So the Sokols added one to the front parlor in 1968. Its mantel, constructed of old growth oak, was rescued from an 1890's mansion in Chicago by Niles Starkey, a local dealer who saves irreplaceable details from vintage mansions and stores slated for demolition.
During the 1980's, Larry Boise, an itinerant artist from San Francisco, appeared on the mansion's doorstep. With his bicycle parked out front and his paints tucked away in saddle bags flung across his back tire, the traveling painter offered to hand-stencil a frieze in the mansion's front drawing room. Bruce Bradbury, the founder of Bradbury & Bradbury wallpapers of Benicia, California, later photographed the frieze as research for his firm when he visited the inn.
Bedrooms are found throughout the mansion, including in the attic, the lower Carriage House level (where Ann's carriage used to drop her before proceeding around the house), and in the more modern cottage next door, named after Parakeet Bill, the former caretaker, who had a penchant for birds. The finest Victorian guest rooms are found on the second floor. Here, Edel has turned Ann and George's master bedroom into a romantic lair, complete with satiny four-poster bed and fainting couch. Although the mood is Victorian, the goal here is romantic atmosphere, rather than authenticity. "I get ideas from watching the backgrounds in old movies or on the PBS specials like Sherlock Holmes and Catherine the Great, says Edel. She also decorates with family heirlooms. Two pieces of etched glass that belonged to Bob's great grandmother sit beside a restored mahogany chair, one of many antiques (two moving vans full!) the Sokols brought with them from the midwest.
Ann's Parlor has another Renaissance-style four-poster bed designed by Edel. Ann often retreated to this room, where she could be alone or simply work with her dressmaker.
It is now an invitingly sunny nook done in spring-like shades of green and enchanting flowered fabrics. Another perfectly charming room, with a brass bed and prettily papered walls, was originally the bedroom of the nanny who looked after the Starrett's only son. A mirrored armoire and ornately carved chair add to the old-fashioned mood.
Like the original work of George Starrett, the Sokol's efforts have been a labor of love. What pleases them most is a comment Virginia Starrett once made: "Ann," she said, "would have appreciated your choice of colors and all the restoration work you have done." And that, the Sokols hope, is a sentiment many guests share as well.
