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In 1958 the Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada considered and rejected Covenhoven as an historic site, and the Royal Trust Company, on behalf of Beverley Ann, put the Island up for sale. It soon had a taker. In late 1958 or early 1959 Harold Hossler and his two brothers, Marion and Arthur, owners of Hossler Brothers Inc., a general contracting firm in Tiffin, Ohio, were in New Brunswick looking at property on Campobello Island. With a bit of money in their pockets and a desire to purchase some rustic summer real estate, they had come up to Canada to inspect the Roosevelt estate, then for sale. They weren't impressed and on their way back stopped overnight in New York where they chanced upon a copy of the Financial Post featuring Minister's Island. What they saw seemed too good to be true: a 500-acre island cutting 200 tons of hay and raising enough oats to feed 100 head of cattle; a great cattle barn, stone bath tower and colonial manager's house, gardener's cottage, manicured grounds and, topping it all, a 26-room mansion completely furnished with paintings, antiques and oriental carpets in the most extravagant late Edwardian manner. "Ideal for Summer Colony, Club, Executives' Vacation Resort, or Religious Institution," ran the ad. Asking price—a mere $80,000.Immediately interested, the Hosslers gave a tentative yes by telephone and returned home burning with excitement over this unusual find. When they finally got to inspect the Island in person, they were not disappointed. Jane Hossler, daughter of Harold Hossler, though only 12 at the time, still remembers what for a girl from a town of 500 seemed lavishness on a grand scale: a Steinway piano, dining room table to seat 40 guests, Spode china, Wedgewood and Delft accessories, 17 bedrooms with brass beds and monogrammed linens. Elegance, she remembered, was an understatement. This was the first time, the cook remarked, that a lady clad in slacks had ever dined at Covenhoven. The Island also came with a small staff, much reduced from Addie's day. The Manager, remembered Jane Hossler, was a kind-hearted bachelor by the name of Pat Pethick, Billy's old friend. Pat had many stories to tell about Billy's antics, some of which seemed to pass into the realm of myth. The gardener was Bill Clarke, a spry and spunky fellow with a bit of the blarney in him. You could never tell if he was serious or pulling your leg—unless you stepped on the 90 degree edge of one of his flower beds. Bill was helped out by his son Henry, "a ruggedly good-looking fellow that all the girls had a crush on soon after meeting him."
The Hosslers liked the small town charm of St. Andrews, where if you were staying out later than 9 o'clock at the Shiretown Hotel, you would be given a key to the front door. Behind the scenes, last-ditch efforts were being made to prevent the Island from falling into American hands. Reverend Charles Mersereau recalled later that when he heard the Royal Trust had found a potential buyer, he telephoned Beverley Ann in Montreal to ask if she could postpone the sale for a few days. Mersereau then phoned New Brunswick Premier Hugh John Flemming, explaining the urgency of the situation. Flemming convened a meeting of his cabinet and the Treasury Board the next day but, to Mersereau's shock, absolutely nobody in government, not even the member for Charlotte, expressed an interest in saving Minister's Island, concluding that it was not appropriate for government to support a private venture. And so on May 1, 1960, Addie Van Horne's San Zenon Company, now controlled by Beverley Ann, deeded to the newly formed Van Horne Island Club all of Minister's Island. It then supplied the Company with a mortgage of $37,000. An American flag had been raised over Covenhoven.
The Van Horne Island Club, Limited, was controlled by six stockholders: Harold Hossler and his two brothers; Chauncey Huber, engaged in the general trucking business in Tiffin; and Lester Rausch and Donald Vorce, both involved in the general insurance and surety business in Columbus, Ohio. Mr. Rausch was the President, but Harold Hossler is remembered as being the moving spirit behind it. The stated purpose of the Company, Mr. Rausch later wrote to a St. Andrews businessman as a part of a loan application, was "to maintain the Island as a semi-private club utilizing its facilities for shareholders and their friends and acquaintances." Ideally, this would include members from the local area as well, with the goal of having 15 to 20 equal owners of the Club. The farm at that time was possessed of 12 Jersey cattle. Farming operations would be continued, wrote Mr. Rausch, with the goal of building up the herd to 50 or 60. The owners had invested approximately $150,000 of their own money and intended to modernize the main house, barn and other buildings. They had taken out about $200,000 insurance on the Island as well. Just what the Van Horne Island Club planned, and what it actually did, turned out to be two rather different things.
Surviving advertisements and sketches actually show about three competing and somewhat contradictory schemes. One has the Island divided up into almost 400 small building lots, and looking like the gated bedroom community of a large city. Another promotes Van Horne's Island as a general tourist vacation spot, with an upscale component but also affordable for the average, family vacation. The last, the notion of the Island as an exclusive club, "North America's Newest Exclusive Resort Colony," offers members limousine service from their point of arrival, a golfing package at the Algonquin Hotel, deluxe accommodations, sailing, deep-sea fishing, badminton, tennis, trap and skeet shooting, hunting, shuffle board, swimming and hiking. A variation on this theme, called the "Tower Island Club," shows Minister's Island with an 18-hole golf course, airstrip, guest cottages, pro shop, Tower Lounge, and substantial-looking set of docks for those who prefer to travel by yacht. Covenhoven has been turned into a club house. All pasture land has gone, though a good part of the northern section of the Island is still forested, perhaps for hunting purposes.
Without Sir William Van Horne's deep pockets, the Hosslers and their partners set about trying to turn the estate into a commercially viable business. First and foremost, it had to be electrified. The old carbide gas lighting system was difficult and dangerous to operate. It had to be fired up in the late afternoon to avoid stranding the house in total darkness, and if not done properly belched an oily soot that covered everything. Electricity was a welcome novelty to the gardener's cottage and other staff buildings, which still burned coal-oil lamps, and even for the Andrews house, barn and other farm buildings, which relied on a DC generator and battery system. (Some blame here ought to be laid at the doorstep of Sir William himself, who insisted that Minister's Island not be included in the new St. Andrews town limits of 1903. Had it been, it might have had electricity by 1921, when the Town piggy-backed onto the CPR electrical system created for the Algonquin hotel.) The roof was leaking, especially around the skylights. The old well pumped by windmill had long since gone dry. Drilling and blasting for new ones wasn't easy, as going down any depth usually meant that the new well, like the old, would encounter salt water. Finally one was found far back in the woods, at considerable expense of time and labour. It was decided to replace the two ancient oil-fired furnaces, but heating the house that first winter proved not to be a good idea. The old house had never been heated in the winter, and the furnace room was located directly under the billiard room. Henry Clarke recalls that the large cracks opened up between the floor boards, and a lot of plaster began to fall off. Heating such a large building was also an extremely expensive proposition. In one three-day period fully 300 hundred gallons of oil were consumed. The idea of heating Covenhoven through the winter did not survive this one attempt.
Mainly, the Van Horne Island Club worked on converting the house and grounds into something worthy the interest of the visiting affluent. The bath tower was glassed in, in preparation no doubt for the installation of the envisioned lounge. Local stonemason John Gibson installed a rudimentary fireplace in it, with a copper hood and chimney. That winter the hood was stolen for scrap. The airstrip went in sometime in the early years of the Club, probably before 1968, but on those few occasions when they flew up, the Hosslers landed mostly in Calais, rather than risk a broken wheel on the more rudimentary Minister's Island strip. Work proceeded on the golf links, but in a rather haphazard way. Someone had the idea that sod would be grown in New Jersey and flown in. Then it was decided to grow the grass on site and mow down oat fields for the purpose. "We needed oats," recalls Henry Clarke, "but—no." In the end, only two tees were built, near the main house.
Some redecoration was done in the main building, the proposed Club House of the Van Horne Island Club. Jane Ashley, an interior decorator out of New York, was hired to work on a per project basis as money became available. Ms. Ashley started off by creating a combination bar and music room. A bar was installed just inside the drawing room hall leading to the billiard room, the piano moved in, and the windows hung with red velvet curtains. Sir William's paintings and handcrafted model boats lined the walls. The dining room was redone in blue, blue velvet sofas were put into the drawing room, and upstairs a model bedroom was created to show potential members of the Club. Its color scheme was ivory and blue, with ivory brocade for the draperies, bedspread and writing table; blue silk for window accents, bed canopies and love seat. The walls were ivory with a blue border. Ms. Ashley also set to work on a tea room in the main house. Several walls were taken down in the kitchen and servant areas but no progress was made beyond laying the black and white tile floor. There were plans to tile the veranda as well, as the foundation beneath had subsided and the original quarry tiles were ruined. But although the tiles were ordered and the veranda's substructure repaired, the work was never completed.
All of this was by way of lead-up to an introductory cocktail party with guests from New York to Florida in attendance. Local merchants and business people were invited to view the improvements and see future plans. There was a buzz in the town and the Club hoped everything would be perfect. It seemed to go off wonderfully, recalls Ms. Hossler. "Everything was perfect in every way and when the last guest had left, we were cautiously optimistic, knowing that everyone in attendance would give the Island a glowing report. In fact, a Mr. Wilson, who wrote for some New York papers, did reveal that the Island was fabulous, though he added that it also was a bit isolated from the bright lights of the big city. EXACTLY, and that is what we loved about the location and the privacy it gave us was just an added benefit."
That is not how prospective investors saw things, on the other hand. In spite of a positive write-up and glowing feed-back from the guests, there were no nibbles or interest shown in the Club concept. Now came money problems. The Minister's Island Estate absorbed $20,000 a year in taxes and basic maintenance alone, not to mention all the additional expenses connected with repairs and renovations. One by one, the partners that Harold Hossler had cajoled into joining the business lost interest and dropped out, taking their money with them. The $37,000 mortgage from the San Zenon Company was paid off in 1963, and a collateral mortgage of $50,000 guaranteed by the New Brunswick government was obtained at the same time, but the Club defaulted twice in two years on this mortgage—once in the fall of 1965 and once in 1966. Each time money was found to make payment but the second time disaster was only narrow2ly averted. A mortgage sale was scheduled to take place at the St. Andrews Courthouse on January 31, 1967. An alarm bell rang out in the local newspaper. The Charlotte County Historical Society, which had long urged the designation of the Island as an historic site, feared that the estate would be broken up and its treasures forever lost. Again money was found and the Club tottered on towards no certain end.
Meanwhile, staff was not being paid. While Pat Pethick seems to have continued to receive his $70 monthly cheque, for over two years Bill Clarke and his family went entirely without remuneration. Clarke didn't want to say anything, recalled his son Henry, as he was afraid of having to leave the Island. Finally, in 1965, when a suit was filed against the Club, the matter was settled out of court through the kindness of a lawyer neighbour. In other instances, valuable equipment was stolen and sold for scrap by despairing workmen. Some jobs, such as the tea room and the tiling of the veranda, were left unfinished.
In all this time the Club sold only one membership, recalls Ms. Hossler, and that was to an old family friend from Ohio. If the Island was used for any particular purpose, it was mainly as a wonderful vacation spot for family and friends. Every August Harold Hossler and his family would drive up for one or two weeks, and the other members of the Club would find a slot for themselves as well. On one occasion Peter Palmer, a former football player who played 'Lil Abner Yokum in the 1959 movie version of the Broadway play, was invited up for a long weekend. He loved the place. Henry Clarke remembers that he sang a song while holding his wife aloft on one hand. Jane Hossler brought up a college friend in the summer of 1972. When they pulled up to the door, the friend assumed they had arrived at a posh inn. She couldn't believe this was her friend's summer "cottage." In spite of their many financial hardships, the Hosslers to their credit did not strip Covenhoven of its treasures. There was a certain understandable desire for memorabilia, but the cook's husband, a border agent, affirmed that if caught with any of these items, not only might they lose them personally, but they mightn't be returned to the Island. "If I catch any of you kids trying to take anything out of here," warned Harold Hossler, "you will be severely punished!"
Finally the Hosslers decided to pack it in. According to Jane Hossler, "In spite of our love for the community and its people, we could not force the potential club members to see everything through our eyes." In 1971 their original real estate agent, Charlie Van Horne (no relation to Sir William), now Provincial Minister of Tourism, took out an option on the Island and offered it to the Government, completely furnished, for $400,000. A feasibility study of Minister's Island as a Provincial Park was drafted by K. H. Deichmann, Interpretive Planner with the Research and Planning Branch. As Deichmann saw it, the Island was not in the best of shape. The grounds were in a general state of disrepair and neglect; most of the 15 buildings, including the Minister's house, the Andrews house, the windmill, garage, coach house and stable, coachman's cottage, lookout tower, gardener's house, servants' quarters and small sheds, were in no better than fair condition, and some were quite dilapidated. One of the vineries had been reduced to its foundations. The only exceptions were the barn and main house. The barn appeared relatively sound, while Covenhoven itself was in generally good shape, with some water damage, peeling paint, and a great deal of dust. Deichmann's general conclusion was that the Island and estate were probably worth over $250,000 and recommended that "definite potential exists for the development of a Provincial Park with historical attractions." Since a large amount of local shoreline was being lost to foreign interests, Deichmann thought "it is in the interests of New Brunswick citizens that every effort be made to purchase and develop the Island." This could include cottages, camping, and hiking trails. A scale model could depict the Island as it was in former days. "If the Mansion and the grounds were open to the public, an interpretative service, with appropriate literature, would be a necessary aid to public appreciation and understanding of the historical aspects of the Island. In summary, the Island has a definite potential for park development in co-ordination with an historical complex."