Homes Built to Last: 1700s to Pre-WWI

Old Talbott Tavern, Bardstown, Kentucky.

Before housing became a product, it was a legacy. In early America, building a home wasn’t just about shelter; it was about permanence, pride, and passing something on. From the 1700s to the early 1900s, homes were built by hand, often by the very people who planned to live in them for life and pass them down to their children. These homes weren’t temporary solutions or stepping stones to something better, they were meant to last generations.

1. Population Growth and Housing Demand (1700s–Early 1900s)

In 1790, the U.S. population was around 4 million. By 1910, it had grown to over 92 million. That growth happened steadily, not all at once, which meant the demand for housing was real, but not overwhelming. With fewer people and more time to build, homes could be constructed carefully and deliberately.

Unlike the post-WWII era, there wasn’t a rush to mass-produce housing. Homes weren’t pushed up in a matter of weeks; they took months or even years. And that time allowed for intention, quality, and personal investment in the build.

2. Who Built the Homes?

Many early American homes were built by the people who lived in them. In rural areas especially, it was common for families to build their own houses over time—cutting their own lumber, stacking their own stone, framing and finishing with the help of neighbors or local craftsmen. These homes were built to endure the elements and to serve not just the immediate family, but future generations as well.

Even in growing towns and cities, homes were still constructed by tradesmen with deep knowledge of their craft. Pride of workmanship mattered. A builder’s reputation was tied to the quality of the home.

3. Material Availability and Choices

In this era, the only real choice for materials was what was available locally. The lack of transit systems—no railroads or highways—meant you built with what your land or town could provide:

• Timber from nearby forests

• Stone from local quarries

• Clay for bricks and tile

• Lime for plaster

Because there were no manufactured shortcuts, and no big box stores to run to, builders worked with real, natural materials—materials that were proven, durable, and beautiful. These materials aged well, were maintainable, and contributed to a home that looked better with time.

4. The Role of Cities and Towns

As towns and cities grew, homes continued to reflect a blend of quality and regional practicality. In fire-prone cities, masonry became the dominant material. In the countryside, timber-framed homes with stone foundations were more common.

Homes were built to fit their environment—to keep in warmth, withstand storms, and last for generations. Local builders knew the conditions and crafted homes accordingly.

5. Homes as a Multi-Generational Investment

Homes were not seen as short-term investments. They weren’t purchased with the idea of upgrading in five years. Families stayed put. Homes were added onto over time as needs changed. A growing family might build the main house, then add a porch, then a wing, then a barn or garden walls.

Homes were thought of as part of the family’s legacy. This mindset encouraged homeowners to care for their property, maintain it, and improve it—because it wasn’t just a house, it was their contribution to the future.

6. The Cumulative Result: Beauty, Soul, and Community Character

When homes are built slowly, intentionally, and with permanence in mind, something deeper happens: they become beautiful.

These buildings weren’t rushed. They were planned. Details mattered. Materials were real and rich with texture. The result? Homes that gave soul to a community. Streets that felt cohesive, neighborhoods that carried a quiet dignity.

Just as our churches and government buildings were once built with pride—as statements of identity and permanence—so too were our homes. Even gardens were laid out with care, contributing to the atmosphere of the home and the town.

This approach to architecture reflects what we see in movements like the Baroque era—where design wasn’t just functional, it was meant to inspire. The Baroque movement, driven by emotion and awe, used architecture to make a statement. To stir something in the soul. And while most early American homes weren’t as ornate, they still followed the same principle: that architecture has power. It can reflect dignity. It can inspire.

Conclusion: Lessons from the Past

When we look at the homes that have lasted 100, 150, even 200 years, we see the value of building slow, building well, and building with purpose. These homes were never meant to be temporary.

They were meant to be part of a family’s story. Part of a town’s identity. And they still are.

In the next part of this series, we’ll look at how things changed—how the explosion of demand after WWI and WWII shifted us from legacy to mass production, and how that shift still affects the homes we build today.