Sometimes people find the best homes when they’re not looking for them. It happened to Alan Weitzman, who was browsing the shops in Easton when he passed a realtor’s window and saw the advertisement for a historic farmhouse on twenty-five acres in rural Church Hill, Md. “I thought to myself, That’s a dandy little house,” says Alan, who with his wife, Day, purchased the home soon after. “Our son, Robert, was just three months old when we bought the place in 1988. It’s a wonderful place for kids to learn about the outdoors. When I was a kid I lived on a farm for about three months, and it was the best memory of my life.”

The house came with a name—Bishopton, named for its first owner, William Bishop. Built circa 1711, it is one of the oldest houses in the country still in private use. Surrounded by a perennial garden, ponds, and horse barns, the home has earned a place on the Maryland Historical Trust and the National Register of Historic Places as well as in the hearts of its owners, who use the property as a weekend retreat. Says Alan, “It’s a rather sweet and mystical place. There’s something about it that makes people become less serious and more playful. There’s just a lot of charm to it.”
Its old English country design and manicured setting perfectly suit the British heritage of its owners. Alan moved from London to the United States with his family at age fourteen when his stepfather opened Weitzman Furriers in Baltimore. Today, Day and Alan live full-time in Annapolis, where he owns a successful advertising agency. Alan is also an award-winning photographer and songwriter who has just released a rock ’n’ roll CD. Day, whose grandparents were born in Birmingham, England, is a realtor in Annapolis. 

Typical of eighteenth-century homes, Bishopton’s façade boasts elegant Flemish bond brickwork and a weathered coat of whitewash. Its steeply pitched cedar shake roof is detailed with two double chimneys and three small gable-headed dormers. Inside, the look of the home is English Country, which translated means the décor should never look like you care, says Day. “Nothing matches, everything looks just thrown together, but it works,” she says. “It’s comfortable; nobody worries if anything spills.”
An uneven floor, constructed from a brick wall that had collapsed in the kitchen, runs through the kitchen and downstairs bath. Bare oak beams line the kitchen ceiling. The weathered sideboard, bought at Dixon’s auction in Crumpton, Md., holds a teapot collection and an array of cowboy hats. Cast-iron pans, evidence of Day’s love for cooking, hang over the butcher’s block. Above a weathered cupboard hang her diplomas from L’Academie de Cuisine, Di Cucina Italia, and the American Institute of Food and Wine. A narrow flight of stairs off the kitchen leads to a tiny loft bedroom.

The home is geared for entertaining—and the couple does plenty of it, mostly in the spring and fall. The dining room is characterized by deep olive-and-gold-painted paneled walls, on which hang prints of two of Alan’s ancestors by eighteenth-century British portrait artist, Francis Cotes. “The dining room table is wonderful for large crowds,” says Day. “We’ll have drinks by the fire and step down into the candle-lit dining room. It’s one of the loveliest rooms to have dinner in.”
The focal point of the house is the living room’s massive floor-to-ceiling fireplace, above which hangs an equally sizable copper lion head salvaged from the façade of a New York City building. “Years ago the fire would be started in the fall and it would not go out till spring,” Day explains. “They didn’t cook on that fireplace; that’s where they would keep things warm. The large andirons are topped with a wrought-iron cup to warm bread after it was baked. Food was brought from an outdoor kitchen; it was too dangerous to have one in the house.” Originally there were four fireplaces in the house; today only two remain, with the other located in the master bedroom.

Among the many fascinating things to explore in the living room is a collection of Winston Churchill memorabilia, including a framed letter signed by the prime minister in 1939, a few days before Britain declared war, and a photo of Churchill, the Queen Mum, King George VI, Queen Elizabeth, and Princess Margaret on the balcony of Buckingham Palace when the war ended. There’s also a letter to Alan from a fellow Brit, news anchor Ted Koppel, and David Olgivy, of ad agency giant, Olgivy & Mather. A model of a Spitfire plane used by the British in WWII, commemorative plates from the Queen Mum’s coronation, family photographs, and an eclectic collection of books are everywhere. One could browse for hours and never be bored.
Upstairs, three small windows fill the master bedroom with a surprising amount of light. The room’s simple décor is highlighted by an oversized gold-framed mirror that the couple inherited from the previous owner of the house, and a weathered mantle, original to the house. “It was painted an awful colonial red,” recalls Alan. “While it was being stripped to the bare wood, I saw all the [old] layers of paint coming together to create this lovely palette. I said, ‘Stop there. It’s never going to get better than this. It’s perfect.’”

Down the hall from the master bedroom is their son’s room, decorated in a Western theme that includes a collection of miniature cowboys and Indians, snake skins, a framed tarantula, and the skull of a bull. “The cowboy theme in Robert’s room is a bit me,” admits Alan. “Growing up in England, my window on America was cowboy movies.” And the snake skins? “We have king snakes in the barn,” he says, “They’re good snakes. When they shed their skins, we hang them on this Brahma bull skull. He was a famous rodeo bull named Copenhagen.”
Bishopton has become a very special place to the Weitzmans. “The place is infectious,” says Alan. “People who come here can’t wait for the next invitation. They get caught up in the wonder of it all. Coming here always seems to reduce life to the things that matter most.”