A questioner said:
We pulled down a false wall in the cellar of our 1857 house and found this! What is it? Any idea?
May be an image of water heater and hearth
Some of the people comments about this found were:
How come no one talking about the tea kettle that’s just suspended in the air
Weird it was covered
My mother cooked on one of these, she made amazing meals, also bread and cakes, Friday was bake day. We lived on the moors in the borders of England and Scotland. I now live in western Maryland, US.
Excellent find, too bad it was not a treasure chest
That is beautiful. An antique dealer will give you quite a lot of money for that. I wouldn’t move it or touch it until I talk to antique dealers.
What an amazing find. I wonder why the former owners covered that up.
Nice I would start tearing down other walls maybe find something else!
It was probably too heavy to get it out of the cellar so they left it.
Wooooow lucky you I would be over the moon and use it with pride … I remember staying with my nan at weekends she had one and remember her having an iron on there to do her ironing … and doing toast on the fire it was lovely… lucky you 
What a treasure
So the original kitchen may have been in the cellar or it was the kitchen for the servants. Love it
I’d leave it right there. Dust it off. Then design around it. It would be the focal point of your room.
NO!!!is it full size or a child’s size? Whatever! What a FIND!
It appears like they intentionally closed up the fireplace with stove and kettles intact for a future find like this. As a builder/contractor we almost always leave little mementoes or time capsules in the wall or closed off portions of the build. We often include owners information and pictures as well as our information. Coins from the year we did the project. Even bran new tape measures or hammers. Sometimes I’ve included brief essays on current events or political thoughts. It’s fun.
Imagine putting a wall up with the kettles still on the stove!
It looks child Size. That’s truly amazing!
Do you think this was original kitchen?
Wow! They left the tea pots in there!!
I used to black lead one of these for my gran, when I was a child. Of black lead can still be bought ot will come up like new.
That old black grate is in great condition. So what are you going to do with it?
What are your thoughts?
Owning an old house often feels like holding a piece of history in your hands. Each creak and groan of the floorboards, each worn corner, and each weathered brick tells a story. When we bought our 1857 home, we knew it had secrets. Little did we know that one of its most remarkable stories was waiting to be uncovered behind a false wall in the cellar.
The Discovery
Our journey began with a simple home improvement project. The cellar, with its stone walls and cool, damp air, had always intrigued us. One wall, in particular, seemed different. It sounded hollow when tapped and had an odd, almost hidden, seam running down its length. Curiosity got the better of us, and with a few tools and a lot of determination, we decided to investigate.
As we carefully dismantled the wall, brick by brick, our anticipation grew. Finally, the last layer crumbled away to reveal a dusty, forgotten room. What lay within was beyond our wildest dreams.
The Hidden Room
The room was like a time capsule, sealed away and untouched for decades. Dust motes danced in the beams of our flashlights, illuminating a collection of objects that seemed frozen in time. We found old furniture, crates filled with yellowing papers, and a variety of curious artifacts.
Treasures and Traces of the Past
Among the most fascinating finds were:
Antique Furniture: A beautifully crafted wooden rocking chair, a small writing desk, and a trunk filled with linens and clothing from the 19th century.
Historical Documents: Letters, diaries, and legal papers that offered a glimpse into the lives of the home’s previous occupants. One particularly poignant diary detailed the daily life of a woman who lived in the house during the Civil War.
Vintage Tools and Equipment: A collection of old tools, a sewing machine, and even an early model of a phonograph.
Personal Items: Family photographs, a set of silverware, and a few pieces of jewelry that likely held sentimental value.
Piecing Together the Past
As we sifted through the items, we began to piece together the story of the house and its inhabitants. The documents revealed that the house had been a refuge during tumultuous times. The hidden room might have been used to store valuables or even serve as a safe haven during periods of unrest.
One particularly fascinating letter was from a former owner to a relative, describing how the false wall was constructed to protect the family’s most prized possessions from potential looters during the Civil War. This discovery added a layer of historical significance to our home, connecting us to the broader tapestry of American history.
Preserving Our Find
Realizing the importance of our discovery, we decided to preserve and document everything we found. We contacted local historians and museums, who were thrilled at the prospect of examining the artifacts and documents. We even received guidance on how to properly preserve the items to ensure they remained in good condition.
A New Chapter for Our Home
Uncovering the hidden room has deepened our appreciation for our historic home. It’s more than just a place to live; it’s a repository of memories and stories that have transcended generations. We plan to incorporate some of the artifacts into our home decor, creating a small museum-like display to share the history with visitors and future generations.
Conclusion
Our discovery behind the false wall in the cellar of our 1857 house has been nothing short of extraordinary. It serves as a reminder that the past is always with us, waiting to be uncovered and appreciated. As we continue to explore and restore our home, we look forward to uncovering more secrets and preserving the rich history that lies within its walls.
Bride Claimed I Destroyed My Son’s Wedding Because of My Outfit Choice – Was I Really Wrong Here?
Claire just wants to be the glamorous mother-of-the-groom—but when she realizes that her daughter-in-law has her own plans for the wedding, she steps back to focus on her own outfit, only for there to be a fight between her and Alice on the big day. Alice claims that Claire has destroyed the wedding by stealing her dream dress, while Claire sees nothing wrong in her actions. Who is wrong?
All I wanted was to be the mother-of-the-groom. That’s it. I just wanted to be the doting mother who loved her son more than anything—but this is the story of how my attempt to make my son’s wedding perfect turned into a day we’d all rather forget.
When Mark introduced Alice to us, she was unlike anyone I expected him to fall for. Mark, my son, is a lawyer at a top firm—a position that he secured straight after his graduation from Stanford.
“I’m going to be a lawyer, Mom,” he told me once when he was still in high school and doing an essay on the career he wanted to get into.
“I could easily see that,” I told him, making him breakfast as he worked away.
“It’s to help fight injustices. For children, specifically,” he said, drinking his orange juice.
Mark had big dreams, and I knew that my son was always going to reach for the stars.
Alice, on the other hand, was completely different from my son. Her entire personality was light and carefree, whereas Mark was serious and brooding. Alice was a self-taught coder, who freelanced from their cozy apartment. Their worlds, their politics, their interests didn’t align.
But they made it work—and they were a sweet couple for the most part. But love, as they say, is blind.
When Mark proposed to Alice, we were all invited to the scene to help surprise her.
“Please, Mom,” Mark said on the phone. “Alice isn’t close to her family, so to see you and Dad there will be good for her. She’ll know that she’s welcomed and supported.”
“Of course, honey,” I told him, already envisioning their wedding in my head.
I swallowed my reservations and offered to pay for the wedding. James and I had put money away for Mark’s studies, but he had always gotten bursaries which paid for it all.
“We can just use that money for the wedding, Claire,” my husband said over lunch the day after the proposal.
“It’s the best thing we could do for them,” I agreed. “This way they can save up to move out of that small apartment. I know Mark’s been talking about a house with a garden because he really wants a dog.”
When we told Mark and Alice, I thought that the gesture would bring us closer. I didn’t have any daughters, so I thought that this would be my chance.
I could get to know Alice better—and that would be good for Mark, to know that his wife and his mother got along well. Instead, the wedding planning only highlighted our differences.
After a few months into the wedding planning, I met Alice at a coffee shop so that we could go over the details. But we clashed on everything.
“I think roses are timeless,” I said, helping myself to a slice of cake.
“They are, but they’re also overdone in a sense,” Alice said, sipping her tea. “Mark and I want peonies.”
Our meeting went back and forth a few times—and we were stuck in a space where we just couldn’t agree on anything.
“Okay, how about this?” I asked her. “You go ahead with everything else, and just tell me what color your bridesmaids are wearing, so that there won’t be any clashes.”
“They won’t be wearing green,” she said. “I’m leaning toward pink.”
I paid the bill and we parted ways with the wedding planning.
But then, one afternoon Alice texted me.
Hi Claire, just picking out my wedding dress with the girls! I’m so excited! I wish you were here!
Attached were photos of her five top wedding dress picks.
I knew that Alice and I were on different ends of what we thought that the wedding should look like, but I wanted to be included in the big things. I wished that she had included me in the wedding dress shopping.
“At least she’s sending you the top picks,” James said as he read the newspaper next to me.
“I know, but it’s not the same,” I said.
“Do they look good?” he asked. “Can I see them?”
Together, we scrolled through the photos of the potential dresses. They were adequate choices, but nothing stood out.
Nothing that would fit the standard of my future daughter-in-law.
The dress that was Alice’s favorite and the first contender for the actual wedding dress wasn’t what I expected.
I typed back, telling Alice that it wasn’t quite the best choice. And I hoped that my financial stake in the wedding would weigh in. James and I hadn’t given the kids a budget. They had everything at their disposal.
Why not consider the second one? It might be more flattering for you.
James chuckled beside me.
“You’re at the point of over-stepping,” he said.
Before I could say anything, my phone pinged with a message from Alice.
Sorry, but I disagree. This is the dress I’m choosing.
That night over dinner, as James was plating our salmon, I shared my frustration with him.
“Alice is not even considering my opinion, and I’m paying for the dress!” I exclaimed.
James tried to mediate; he also texted Mark to make sure that he knew how I felt, too.
“I think you should just leave the wedding planning to them now,” James said. “Put all your attention into yourself and what you’re going to wear.”
But it also turned out that Mark was able to persuade Alice to wear the dress I preferred.
I had to admit, it was the less stressful option, and I hadn’t been able to shop for my dress before that.
So, that’s what I did.
I went to a few different boutiques and eventually found my perfect dress. It was emerald green, which I knew brought out my eyes.
“That’s beautiful,” James said when I tried the dress on for him.
I had felt different. I no longer felt like the mother-of-the-groom who had been pushed aside. Instead, I felt beautiful in my own skin, my self-esteem growing every time I thought of the dress.
When the wedding week loomed upon us, James and I tried to make ourselves as present as possible. We went to all the events that Mark and Alice needed us to be at—including the rehearsal dinner where we saluted them and drank champagne to toast the festivities.
“All sorted, Mom?” Mark asked me. “Your dress and everything?”
I smiled at my son. Despite being in the middle of Alice and me, he was always checking in on me.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m ready to celebrate you and Alice.”
On the morning of the wedding, I put on my green dress and did my make up. It was everything I had wanted to look for my son’s wedding—elegant and sophisticated.
As I arrived at the venue, the air was thick with murmurs. I ignored them, thinking that everyone was just so used to me being dressed in comfortable clothing, that this was something different for them.
I went straight to the bride’s dressing room, hoping to see Alice and compliment her before she walked down the aisle.
Upon opening the door, Alice looked up—her joyful expression collapsing into one of utter devastation. She looked me up and down before bursting into tears.
“Why did you do this to me, Claire?” she sobbed, her voice choked with emotion.
Confused, I stepped into the room and closed the door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“Your dress!” she exclaimed.
“What about it?” I asked, second-guessing everything.
“It’s my dream wedding dress, just in another color,” she said, nearly shouting.
I was taken aback.
“Alice, honestly,” I said. “I didn’t realize—they look so different in color.”
But Alice wasn’t having any of it. She sat on the edge of the couch, her head in her hands.
“How could you?” she looked up and cried out. “You’ve made this day about you! Just because we didn’t take any of your suggestions!”
Mark, having heard the commotion from his dressing room next door, came rushing in.
“Mom? What’s going on here?” he asked me.
He looked from Alice to me, seeking an explanation.
Trying to calm the waters, I explained everything slowly.
“I didn’t see the resemblance, Mark,” I said. “I truly just loved the dress, and I thought—”
Alice stood up and marched toward Mark.
“No!” she exclaimed. “You thought that you’d show me what I could’ve had, but in green. Isn’t that it?”
“Mom, please,” my son said. “Let’s just try to get through the day. Please, for me.”
I agreed and left the dressing room. I just wanted to find James and sit quietly until the day was over.
I knew that Alice and I were walking a thin line, but I didn’t expect her to shout at me in the manner that she did.
Naturally, I was upset, but I didn’t want to ruin their day any further.
Reflecting now, perhaps I should have been more open to Alice’s preferences. It was her day after all, not just mine to orchestrate. The question of whether I was wrong hangs heavily over me.
Yes, in trying to enforce my vision, I might have lost sight of what was truly important—Alice’s happiness and Mark’s peace on their special day.
Was I wrong for what I did?
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