Stan Hywet Hall: An Illusion of Grandeur

By Laurie Esposito Harley

Americans love illusion. They gather the kids around the television set to watch a live performance of David Copperfield. They go to the movies or read books – just to be drawn into an imaginary world full of adventure and excitement. Or they do what the Seiberlings did… create a house that is overpowered with technology, yet appears – inside and out – to be a relic from Tudor England. But no one questions the feasibility of a Tudor Revival style house that is located, not in England, but in Akron, Ohio. And why should they? They Sieberling’s estate, Stan Hywet Hall, is the ultimate illusion.

In 1911, Franklin A. Seiberling, founder of Goodyear Rubber and Tire Company, traveled to England with his wife, Gertrude; his oldest daughter, Irene; and the Cleveland architect, Charles S. Schneider. The Seiberlings were searching for an architectural style after which to model their own home. They found that style in the English Tudor home of Compton Wynyates in Warwickshire, England.

By 1915, after three years of work, Stan Hywet Hall was full constructed. In all, the structure covered 65,400 square feet, contained twenty bedrooms, twenty-three fireplaces, fourteen bathrooms, nine lavatories, 273 doors – in addition to the twenty sets of French doors, a total of 469 windows, and 3000 fully-landscaped acres.
The house was designed after the English Tudor-style home, but the Seiberlings insisted “on quality and appropriateness for family use,” according to a brochure distributed by the Stan Hywet Hall Foundation entitled “Welcome to Stan Hywet Hall and Gardens.”

The family’s insistence on convenience meant altering the architectural design. In the sixteenth century, every feature of a building served a purpose. According to a booklet by Frank A. Seiberling, Jr. entitled “What Is the Tudor Period and Style?”, the architectural features that seem scattered and unorganized in Tudor-period homes in England “conform not to any balanced symmetry of appearance but to functional needs that grew out of use over a period of many years” (2). Yet Stan Hywet’s construction often goes out of its way to keep the needs of the family hidden. Telephones, radiators, and coal elevators – all of which filled very important needs – were melded into the surroundings, virtually invisible to guests. By hiding these modern devices, the Seiberlings created a home that only appeared to be a house from the past. In reality, the house was merely a façade, behind which one of Akron’s most technologically-advanced families lived.

Bob Gerster, a tour guide at Stan Hywet, explained the automatic dial telephone system that connected the thirty-eight telephones to batteries in the basement. They did not require an operator, “which for 1915 was quite advanced,” Gerster said. But as you look around the Chinese Room, which is one of the first rooms in the house tour, no telephones are visible. Gerster opened a tiny section of the wooden paneling to reveal an old-fashioned dial telephone hidden in the wall. He explained, “Mrs. Seiberling said that when they went to these homes in England, they didn’t see any telephones, so she thought maybe they’d keep them out of sight.”

The house was heated by boilers in the basement that could easily use one ton of coal each day. Unlike visitors to an original Tudor home, guests of the Seiberlings would have felt warmth on cold wintertime visits. Guests might notice the warmth, but they would not see the radiators. These bulky eyesores were hidden away in almost every room of the house. Only in the kitchen areas did designers allow the radiators to show their hulking forms. After all, only servants see the kitchen. In other rooms they were tucked away behind ornate screens or elaborate latticework. Why didn’t the Seiberlings want the radiators to be seen? Thalia Jones, a Stan Hywet hostess, said matter-of-factly, “It would be very obtrusive.” Not only would the radiators be too prominent, but they would also shatter the illusion of a storied past that the Seiberlings built into the very structure of Stan Hywet Hall.

The Seiberlings installed two elevators in their home, each fulfilling a separate task. One was a rope elevator that transported coal and wood from the basement for use in any of the twenty-three fireplaces. The other elevator carried passengers from the sub-basement to the fourth floor. Both of these timesaving devices were disguised in keeping with the image of a Tudor theme.

The Seiberlings even altered natural items to conform to their decorating. They hired Warren Manning, an American landscape architect, to sculpt the perfect scenery. Manning reigned over the landscape as he molded nature to suit the Seiberlings’ specifications. He altered the color of the Breakfast Room Garden flowers to match the color scheme of the room overlooking that section of the garden. It is as if the Seiberlings felt that nature was as controllable as wallpaper or drapes.

The Dell, a wooded area to the left of the house, was grown to give the “irregular appearance of natural woodlands.” There’s an irony in trying to make nature look more natural. That does not mean that the grounds were unattractive. In fact, they were beautiful and calming, but there was also the strange sensation of an unnecessary and unnatural manipulation.

The Seiberlings violated the natural order inside the house as well as outside it. Jones said that “Mrs. Seiberling wanted this house to look as if it had been lived in for 100 years, so Mrs. Seiberling’s son hired someone to come in here and grind these little depressions [in the stone floor].” Mrs. Seiberling’s request is typical of late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century American styles. Stan Hywet’s stone floors typify the “desire for the past, and the appearance of generations of living and use,” according to the brochure distributed by the Foundation. The Seiberlings succeeded in capturing the image of a stable country manor home; but sadly, that was all that Stan Hywet was: an image. Only one generation of Seiberlings lived in the house, and after Franklin A. Seiberling died in 1955, the house and all of its furnishings were donated to the newly formed Stan Hywet Hall Foundation.

According to Jones, the Seiberling children “didn’t want the house. They didn’t have the amount of money to keep it up, and it wasn’t their lifestyle… they weren’t interested in it.”

Stan Hywet still stands as a reminder of its own illusion. Generations of a family that never lived there, and millions of footsteps that did not wear down the stone floor. Stan Hywet provides the fantasy world that we all crave through a beauty that is timeless.