The Powel House on Society Hill near the Delaware River is considered one of the finest examples of Georgian architecture in the United States.
The Powel House on Society Hill near the Delaware River is considered one of the finest examples of Georgian architecture in the United States. Built in 1765, it stands witness to over 250-years of history as a center for political elites. “The place General Washington danced” is the rallying cry that kept the Powel House from demolition.
I am traveling with my companion Angel. I drag him around to this kind of cultural landmark when I can, even if I must prop him up with a stiff drink.
During the American Revolution, Samuel and Elizabeth Powel were known to be amongst the most politically elite residents of Philadelphia, whom Angel erroneously calls Philippines. But in the early 20th Century, Russian immigrant, unaware of the structure’s significance, Wolf Klebansky used the deteriorating residence as a horse hair and bristle warehouse. In the 1930s, as the home was scheduled for demolition and the beautiful rooms were sold off to museums, a preservationist named Frances Anne Wister formed the Philadelphia Society for the Preservation of Landmarks, and raised money to purchase the building as a dedicated beacon of Colonial Revivalism.
“The place General Washington danced” is the rallying cry that kept the Powel House from demolition.
In the days leading up to the visit to the Powel House, we get our first glimpse of it. The original Ballroom paneling, sold off during the proposed demolition, is installed in the Philadelphia Museum of Art just as the Withdrawing Room is installed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Considered the best room in the house, the second floor front parlor was the scene for a variety of events—card games, teas, and even the dancing that celebrated the twentieth wedding anniversary of George and Martha Washington.
The iconic hairy paw Cadwalader wing chair which sold in 1987 for $2.75 million.
The room at the museum features colonial Philadelphia furniture from the Cadwalader suite. “Angel, oh my God,” I moaned, “the Cadwalader chair, the Cadwalader chair!” He looked at me like I was crazy, like “so?” I could queer out over the iconic hairy paw Cadwalader wing chair which sold in 1987 for $2.75 million (I wrote a paper on the chair in college), but I will set that down here and obsess about it another time.
As I climb the stairs and run my hand up the banister, the fact that it is the same railing touched by George and Martha Washington, Ben Franklin, John Adams, the Marquis de Lafayette, and even the original white version of Alexander Hamilton does not escape my attention.
It is also interesting to note that the more luxurious rooms for entertaining and living are upstairs, removed from the street noise and carriage dust of the first floor.
The paneling and plasterwork in the Ballroom and the Withdrawing Room are recreations so exacting that it is tough to discern the difference between the house and the museum.
On my visit to Philadelphia I had a list of things to see from the Philadelphia Museum of Art to the Ritz Carlton to the Liberty Bell to eating a cheesesteak sandwich to the tall ship Moshulu to Keane at the MET, but this is the most critical cultural landmark on the list. Angel and I are on a private tour with just the two of us and the docent. And we both have 100 questions.
As the tour guide surmises the heritage of the Powell family as Quakers, Angel asks if they were oat farmers–a question that brings me much delight! It is also pleasurable watching the tour guide meander through her reply. In fairness, Angel is an immigrant and his perfect English is not his native tongue, so the misunderstanding is excusable. Angel is a little uncomfortable, probably because I am doubled over in laughter, but it’s truly endearing.
Of course chair seats are draped with tassels to discourage guests from plopping a squat.
The paneling and plasterwork in the Ballroom and the Withdrawing Room are recreations so exacting that it is tough to discern the difference between the house and the museum. The house epitomizes the revolutionary style and is appointed with period furniture, many pieces original to the house.
The chair seats are draped with tassels and cords to discourage guests from plopping a squat. But I still want to rub my hands all over the furniture and porcelains which is thoroughly rebuffed by the docent, even though the tour is exclusive and no one would know. I’ve gotten lucky and even dug through drawers on house tours before. Not this day. I realize that, together, Angel and I project a vibe that overwhelms a space. So I keep my grubby hands to myself. I could have given the docent an apoplectic event had I pulled out my sketchbook.
This house is the height of sophistication and luxury of 1765 Philadelphia, exquisite in every aspect of contemporary style, taste, and design. It is truly a moment in time. Angel and I are transported.
I realize that, together, Angel and I project a vibe that overwhelms a space.
Historic house tours are the most revealing way to explore the roots of a city and to experience the tastes that influenced local culture for, in this case, centuries.
See more photos of this astonishing residence at the links below.
Oh, and which is the recreated Ballroom and which is the Philadelphia Museum of Art in the picture above? The Powel House is on the left side, the original 1765 paneling and plasterwork is on the right.