The Many Unique Features of Veblen House -- a 1920s Prefab

Below are compiled writings and photos of the many special features of the Veblen House--a prefab of unusual construction and style that was moved from Morristown, NJ to Princeton in 1930 by the Whiton-Stuarts, then bought and augmented by the Veblens in 1941. 

It was bequeathed to Mercer County in 1974, to be added to Herrontown Woods. The will states the Veblens' vision for the house: "and in addition thereto I give and bequeath all of my pictures, radio receivers and phonograph records to the said County, to be kept by it in the house herein devised as a part of the proposed library and museum of Herrontown Wood."

That vision was not realized by Mercer County. Instead, the house was rented out, then closed down and largely abandoned in 1998. In 2017, the Friends of Herrontown Woods fought off demolition, facilitated safe transfer of ownership to Princeton municipality, and now lease the House with the goal of rehabilitation as a place for meetings, small concerts, talks, museum exhibits, and nature learning.

THE HOUSE

1939 Description of the House

Veblen House in the 1950s 

Some Beautiful Features of Veblen House

Distinctive Windows of Veblen House

A Roof That's Lasted 85 Years

• The Durable Tin Top

Balusters from "It's a Wonderful Life"

The Double Walls

Ornamentation on the Outside

1930s Insulation 

Housewrap Made of Sisal

Fun little clues found inside the walls of Veblen House

• Writings on the Inner Walls
• Who Was James Demarest?
• Initials in Old Bricks

The Wallboard

The Veblens' Furnishings, including Einstein's Chests

The Artwork on the Walls

• Charles Oppenheimer 
• Kate Cory

An Antique Septic Tank

Exterior Drainage

THE GARDEN AND GROUNDS

Spring flowers

Elizabeth's daffodils

The Longtime Caretaker

The Horse Run

The Hay Barrack

Related Post:

The Veblens' Original Vision for Herrontown Woods, Veblen House and Cottage

Appreciating and Repairing the Stone Horserun at Veblen House

When I tell visitors that the big circle of stones near the Veblen House was a horserun, people frequently say "But it's too small." They just can't imagine a horse running in such a tight circle. Not knowing much about horses, I could only say I'd remembered reading it in an old newspaper article. That article, which I just reread, appeared in the March 17, 1985 Trenton Times. It was a feature on Max Latterman, who by then had served as caretaker of the Veblen House, Cottage and grounds for nearly 60 years. Back in 1927, when the property was probably already owned by Jesse and Mary Whiton-Stuart, Max was told to "build an exercise ring out of rocks for the owners' 22 horses." 

If a news article isn't convincing enough, I can now point to a new source of corroboration. The Cowboy and the Queen is a recently released documentary about a horse trainer in California who developed a non-violent way to train horses. Rejecting the brutal methods traditionally used to break a horse, he studied how mustangs communicate in the wild. The film shows him in a circle much the same size as our horserun, demonstrating how he could saddle an untrained horse in half an hour by using little more than body language. He replaces violence with compassion, trust, and respect. Few adopted his methods until Queen Elizabeth took an interest and transformed his life. My heart was in my throat through the whole film. 

The horses were gone by the time the Veblens bought the house from the Whiton-Stuarts in 1941, but the wall remains. (This photo was likely taken by Veblen in the 1950s.)

Much of the wall is still in good shape -- a testament to Max Latterman's skill and strength.

But a few areas have collapsed, perhaps disturbed in past years as we freed the wall from smothering wisteria vines. Recently, one of the participants in the weekly Gratitude yoga sessions, Artem Grebennik, approached me, offering his services to repair the wall. He had studied with a master wall builder in California, Skip Schuckman.

By the time we gave approval, he was about to return to California, but he came for one day to test the concept that one man could move such heavy stones into position. He explained the logic of the wall, with two rows of big stones running along the top edges,  firmly keeping the stones below in place. The big stones lining the top are in turn held in place by smaller filler stones in the interior of the wall. 

Artem, who goes by the name Tyoma, was surprised at how heavy and dense the stones are, but the result of his day's work was impressive. One more positive step for the Veblen House grounds.

"Super-Stabilization" of Veblen House Complete

Thanks to donations large and small, and a good deal of coordination, the Friends of Herrontown Woods has completed what could be called a "super-stabilization" of Veblen House. I call it super-stabilization because the house has always been a sturdy and stable structure, even back when those wishing to demolish it were alleging otherwise. 

Still, there was some buttressing of the foundation to do, and so our architects drew up detailed plans, and we were fortunate to find a mason and carpenters to do the work.

A desire to hold public events in the house required adding girders in the basement. These, too, were designed by our architects with input from a structural engineer and much internal discussion to get it right. Volunteers have since spread a plastic liner over the crawlspace dirt, to reduce humidity.  

We also moved the basement stairway to better utilize space on the first floor.

Though the basement doesn't flood, even in heavy rains, the hot, humid summer air was still getting in through various openings, causing condensation on the new girders. Fortunately, carpenter Robb Geores has returned to install basement windows. 

With new windows and tightly sealing vents, we now can control when and if outside air enters the basement. 

Thanks to our supporters, mason Jerry Ganz, carpenters Chris Farr and Robb Geores, architects Ahmed Azmy and Sigmund Lerner, and volunteers Scott Sillars and Robert Chong. 

 

Historical Clues on an Old Tin Roof

When we successfully fought off attempts by Mercer County in 2017 to demolish the Veblen House and Cottage, we had a lot of allies. Community support was crucial, as was support from members of town council. Largely unsung, however, was the quiet work of the Veblen House roof to keep the structure dry since 1941. Mischaracterized in a 2011 study as consisting of cedar shingles, the roof is in fact made of two different materials. On top is a metal roof, and along each side are shingles made, surprisingly, of asbestos cement. Asbestos cement? It sounds dangerous, but we've been reassured that the shingles are "non-friable", and could be taken off by any licensed roofer. Back in 1941, asbestos cement shingles were considered more durable than cedar shingles, and less costly than slate. This combination of ultra-durable roofing materials has protected the house since the Veblens had it installed 82 years ago, with only a couple minor patches required in recent years. 

The roof fooled the professional firm back in 2011, and it fooled us for many years, until we finally got a ladder long enough to climb up and discover that the top portion of the roof is metal. 

A stamp on the metal reveals its maker: Fable and Company. The stamp says:

COLONIAL

OLD METHOD

401 B

OPEN HEARTH

COPPER BEARING

FABLE and COMPANY

When we first found this stamp six years ago, I assumed the roof had been part of the prefab moved to Princeton from Morristown by the Whiton-Stuarts, I sent an email to the Morris County Historical Society, hoping that they'd recognize the company name. 

A quick response came from historian Sara Weissman.

"The enclosed indicate that Fable and Co launched in Philadelphia in January 1921. The news item is from Sheet Metal Worker issue of Jan. 7, 1921, p 474. "

Sounds like sheet metal was a big deal back then, if a publication dedicated to the subject is 500 pages long.

Her email continued, "The box ad with slogan is from the Swarthmore College yearbook of 1936. Firm principal Frederick A. Fable died in 1944, age 81, still president of Fable & Co, per his death certificate."

The Veblens added the roof to the house in 1941, and if the roofing tin truly is "of unexcelled quality," as its 82 years of service attest, that fits with the reputation of the Veblens, and the Matthews Construction Company, which built many buildings on Princeton University campus, along with Veblen's roof.

Interestingly, in my inquiry, I had misspelled the name as "Fabel," but Sara found that I was not the only one to misspell the business owner's name. "He was recorded as Fabel in the 1900 Census."

The steeper portion of the gambrel roof are covered with asbestos cement shingles. It should be said right off the bat that the shingles are "non-friable", not considered a hazard in their current state, and can be safely removed by any licensed roofer. (Small amounts of asbestos inside the house have already been removed, thanks to support from the municipality.)

We found some labeling on a few extra shingles left in the attic. They were Granada Red, No. 7 M, manufactured by Johns Manville. Asbestos composite shingles were produced to replace not only wood shingle siding, but also slate roofing shingles.

As most people know, asbestos was at first highly touted for myriad uses in buildings, ships, and elsewhere, but its embrace in manufacturing did not end well. As asbestos.com tells the story:

In the 1970s and ‘80s, thousands of people began developing serious illnesses as a result of exposure to the company’s asbestos products. Many instituted legal actions against Johns Manville, and the company filed for bankruptcy in 1982.

After decades of bankruptcy proceedings and changes in ownership, Johns Manville still manufactures construction materials, but now they are asbestos-free.

Now, in 2024, the Veblen House roof has begun to develop small leaks here and there. We will likely need to replace it rather than do repairs, but it speaks to the quality of the house that the roof has served well for 82 years. 

Long-Awaited Foundation Repairs Now Complete

As 2023 draws to a close, it's time to celebrate a big step forward in the repair of Veblen House. A mason and his crew arrived last week to pour footings and underpin eroded areas of the house's foundation in the basement. 

Back in 2011, a detailed assessment of the Veblen House was conducted by a local architectural firm that noted, among other things, erosion beneath the chimney's foundation. Repair was characterized as "urgent." A cynic might say that the report, with its high calculated pricetag for restoring the house, was meant less to spur repair than to intimidate anyone wishing to take the project on. The report detailed all of the house's flaws, and none of its assets. Seeing promise where others saw only expense, we remained undaunted.

The sense of urgency was lessened slightly when I took a closer look under the chimney, and found that only a third of it had been undermined. 

Still, it was a great relief this past week to see the chimney, and a couple other spots in the house's foundation, at last properly underpinned with concrete. 

The cement arrived in a miniature cement truck, which promptly got stuck on ground softened by a heavy rain earlier in the week. Herrontown Woods was created by the Veblens specifically as a place to get away from motorized vehicles, so it's amusing to see how the land itself enforces their decree. 

The crew quickly adapted, carting the concrete down to the house in wheelbarrows.

Bucket after very heavy bucket of cement was handed down through the trapdoor in the kitchen to waiting hands in the basement,

where it was poured into moulds to form footings. Our desire to use Veblen House for events requires reinforcement of the already sturdy floors. 

The masons had to get creative where the footings intersected with existing structures.

Cutting into the basement floor for one of the footings revealed a drainage pipe running beneath the floor. This pipe may well connect to a series of wells outside. The Whiton-Stuarts, who built the house and lived in it for the first ten years before selling to the Veblens, had many horses. It's possible that seepage underneath the basement flows into wells that may at one time have provided drinking water for the horses

The masons reconnected the severed drainage pipe so that it can continue to help keep the basement dry.

Thanks goes to FOHW board member Scott Sillars, who was able to find a mason to do the work (we had been searching on and off for years), and to our supporters whose donations fund repairs.

Veblen House and Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life

What are Donna Reed and James Stewart looking at in this scene from director Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life? What could elicit such looks of wonder and endearment?

Why, it's their dream home--a major fixer upper that hasn't been lived in for decades. The broken windows are reminiscent of what happened to Veblen House over decades of neglect, as is the love that the main characters George Bailey and especially Mary later apply to fixing it up as the movie progresses. And, as with George's guardian angel, who mingles with humanity seeking to earn his wings, the ways people contribute to the project at Herrontown Woods can make one feel like there are angels in our midst. But there's something else we noticed that the movie's fixer upper has in common with Veblen House: 

Zoom in and check out the balusters. 

I went back through photos of Veblen House from around 2008, when it had already been abandoned for ten years, and found a photo of the outdoor staircase we plan to rebuild. 

Was this architectural detail added by the Russian woodworker, said to have customized the house after it was moved to Princeton from Morristown, and where does its style hearken from?

Veblen House is no ordinary house, and Frank Capra was no ordinary movie director. Arriving in America from Italy at the age of six, he became the first in his family to go to college, earning a degree from Caltech in engineering in 1918. The engineering background gave him an advantage over other directors during the transition from silent movies to talkies. A recurring theme in his most well-known movies is the power of an individual to bring out the best in people. It takes a hero--someone endowed with steadfast love, courage, and a deep belief in community and human dignity--to overcome the worst impulses of humanity and mobilize our innate generosity towards one another. 

Writing this post, I realized that It's a Wonderful Life is an inverted form of Dickens' Christmas Carol. In Christmas Carol, it is the good will of the community that, along with major interventions by ghosts, ultimately releases the generosity latent behind Scrooge's entrenched greed. In Wonderful Life, it is the main character's devotion to giving and sacrifice that ultimately brings the community together in an outpouring of generosity. 

Oswald Veblen's life reads like a Capra movie. Through the first half of the 20th century, he devoted himself to bringing out the best in mathematicians and other scholars, by creating the circumstances--organizational, physical, and financial--within which they would have the freedom and resources to follow their curiosity and do their best work.

Political freedom is another key element in bringing out the best in people, so it's not surprising that Veblen and Capra sought to serve their country. In WWI, while Oswald Veblen was helping the war effort by applying mathematics to the improvement of artillery at Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Maryland, second lieutenant Capra was teaching mathematics to artillerymen in San Francisco. 

In WWII, while Veblen was again in the military, coordinating scientific work to improve the accuracy of weaponry, Frank Capra also reenlisted, this time to work for Chief of Staff George C. Marshall. It was Marshall's vision to create films to explain to the troops "why we are fighting, and the principles for which we are fighting." Capra created the series of films called "Why We Fight," which provided the philosophical foundation for the vast collective effort to defeat totalitarianism. 

Scientists like Veblen, and artists like Capra--patriots and heroes through the first half of the century--came under suspicion in post-war America, as the fear and repression they had long fought against took hold here at home. Both came under scrutiny by the House Un-American Activities Committee, because of the people they knew. The film industry and cultural mores were also changing, in ways Capra refused to accept and adapt to. He described the new paradigm as "Kill for thrill—shock! Shock! To hell with the good in man, Dredge up his evil—shock! Shock!" Meanwhile, prosperity-fueled development was consuming the rural lands in Princeton that the Veblens loved.

My respect and awe for Capra deepened when I found out he had produced a prescient film in 1958 called "The Unchained Goddess." About weather, it included a one minute synopsis of the threat posed by climate change. The movie uses animation reminiscent of his Why We Fight films. Instead of a map showing the U.S. being invaded by Nazis, the new invader is rising sea levels that could ultimately drown large swaths of the nation. America, having defeated totalitarianism abroad, was now threatened by a new invasion, partly self-inflicted, by "unwittingly changing the climate through the waste products of civilization." 

Unlike the great collective mobilization that brought victory in WWII, the country has shrugged off Capra's warnings about climate change, choosing instead to fight battles against other enemies, within or beyond our borders, real or illusory. Though It's a Wonderful Life has been described as "a saccharine apotheosis of private life and small town nostalgia," Capra's depiction of people as often their own worst enemy has relevance to the mounting political and environmental crises we now face. 

The movie's fixer-upper speaks as well to what we've found at Herrontown Woods, that a spirit of repair, whether of a traumatized nature or a neglected house, can lead to good things. 

Demarest & Co: More Writings Discovered Inside Veblen House

 One of the curiosities to be found on the newly exposed walls inside Veblen House are these slats. 

Stacked tightly, one on top of another, they were nailed primarily but not exclusively to the walls that enclose bathrooms. This is the wall between the master bedroom and master bath.

and this is the wall between the upstairs hallway and another bathroom. Their function is another mystery to be solved. Soundproofing, perhaps? But suffice it to say that each slat, if I can call them that, looked to us pretty much like all the others. 

But one day our carpenter, Robb Geores, came by, and Scott Sillars and I passed a couple fascinating hours with him scrutinizing the newly exposed guts of the house. Many a clue was found that may shed light on the house's multiple lives. 

We were upstairs in the study when Robb announced, "I found some more writing!" He was scrutinizing a single stack of those slats running along the edge of the chimney. 

There, you see it? Neither did we, but a really close look reveals that one of the slats is larger than the others.

And on it is some writing, revealing that it had once been the top of a packing crate, with the shadow of a stamp on the upper right. 

The crate was addressed to J.P.W. Stuart in Bedford, NY. That would be Jesse Paulmier Whiton-Stuart. He and his wife Mary moved the house from Morristown to Princeton, and lived in it for ten years before selling it to the Veblens. Bedford was and is an upscale town that had not come up previously in our research of the itinerant Whiton-Stuarts, who had lived in Manhattan, Greenwich, CT, Prescott, AZ, Morristown, and allegedly in Tuxedo Park, before moving to Princeton. Can we conclude that he was well-known in Bedford, if a package could find him without a street address? (Note: Evelyne Ryan of the Bedford Historical Society wrote me that "it wasn’t until the implementation of 911 that many Bedford addresses had numbers – roads, yes, but not numbers." That would have been the late 1960s)

The return address on the crate's top left is 543 Madison Ave, New York City. We couldn't make out the name, though, until I showed it to Clifford Zink. "Demarest," he said without pause. He also pointed out the tiny "&" symbol after Demarest. "Demarest & Cook?", I ventured, before later settling on "Demarest & Co." 

Demarest proved to be J.C. Demarest, later fleshed out to James Cleveland Demarest, president and treasurer of an interior decorating firm. His ads appeared in these 1925-26 issues of Arts and Decorations, alongside articles about anything from bathroom adornments to the latest in literature, music, and art. A sophisticated critique of Carl Sandburg's biography of Lincoln rubbed shoulders with Demarest's conception for a well appointed dining room.

This Nov, 1925 issue had lots for the wealthy to contemplate, admire, and buy. Articles come in quick succession, with "The Hard Brilliance of Earnest Hemmingway" (also Conrad Aiken, Sherwood Anderson) on p. 57, followed by some American triumphalism about skyscrapers in "The New Architecture of a Flamboyant Civilization", "Painted Doors are the Final Distinction for the Handsome Room", and "Great Modern Hotels of America." The magazine captures the world the Whiton-Stuarts seem to have inhabited, at least until the crash of 1929. Beginning around 1900, Whiton-Stuart owned a prosperous real estate company that specialized in high-end properties on Madison Ave. in Manhattan. Society pages tracked the Whiton-Stuart's visits to elite locales and later the seven or so marriages of their son and daughter.

Jesse grew up on Park Avenue, and collected photographs later compiled in a book entitled "Views and Maps of Old New York."

Another article in Arts and Decorations featured the home of prominent architect Grosvenor Atterbury, who in 1909 designed sophisticated prefab homes for Forest Hills in Queens. According to wikipedia, "each house was built from approximately 170 standardized precast concrete panels, fabricated off-site and assembled by crane." Whiton-Stuart would have been up on the latest trends in architecture--an engagement that may have led to his experimenting with the prefab construction now fully on display at Veblen House. 

Also found in the Arts and Decorations magazine was a full page color ad for Johns-Manville's asbestos shingles. Yes, hard to believe now, but asbestos was big in the 1920s, and the 30s and 40s, on up to the 1970s. The Johns-Manville company supplied some of the materials for Veblen House, as will be explored in another post. 

The March, 1926 issue has an article singing the praises of gumwood for paneling. Gumwood? Turns out they're talking about sweetgum, a native tree of which there are many in Herrontown Woods. I lived in a house in Michigan that had beautiful sweetgum paneling, but have not seen it anywhere since. There's no "gumwood" in Veblen House, but it does have two rooms creatively and expertly paneled with plywood parquet--a material that caught the eye and interest of an architectural historian at the NJ Historic Trust. That, too, is material for another post. 

You can see how finding the words "Demarest & Co" on a wall in Veblen House has set off a whole google-powered adventure into the life and times of the Whiton-Stuarts, but why would Whiton-Stuart, or his carpenter, have embedded that particular piece of a packing crate in one of the walls? Robb raised the possibility that the carpenter was simply using whatever wood was on hand. But every other slat nailed to the walls is generic and uniform in size. 

J.C. Demarest died in 1932. One story handed down about Veblen House is that a cabinet maker worked for two years customizing the interior. If the house went up in 1931, that would mean that Demarest died while the house was being worked on. The piece of packing crate was placed next to a hearth, upside down. A hearth represents importance. Might upside down have some symbolism for loss? More about any connection and friendship between Demarest and Whiton-Stuart may ultimately be found in the detailed accounts on society pages back then of who was seen where with whom. 

Origins of the Wallboard in Veblen House

We've been very fortunate to find labels on the various materials that went into the construction of the Veblen House. The housewrap was called Sisalkraft. The wood sheathing appears to have been shipped by the Weyerhauser company from the west coast. The insulation--all one or two inches of it--was a Weyerhauser product out of Minnesota called Balsam Wool. 

Though the kitchen and bathrooms in Veblen House are coated with traditional plaster, the walls in other rooms were made of wallboard containing wood fibers pressed tightly together. Until now, the origin of the wallboard has been a mystery. Various kinds of wallboard offered a cheaper, lighter alternative to plaster for indoor walls and ceilings. Most homes now use drywall, also known as plasterboard or sheetrock, made with a combination of paperboard and fireproof gypsum. But though drywall was invented in 1916, it didn't come into widespread use until the 1940s, ten years after Veblen House was built.

Homasote is another kind of wallboard, and that name has come up occasionally in walkthroughs of the house. But though Homasote was manufactured in nearby Trenton, it was comprised of paper fibers rather than wood, and according to the wikipedia entry was not marketed until the 1940s. 

While most of the wallboard in the house was hauled to a landfill as part of the asbestos removal, we were able to save some. Fortuitously, the asbestos had been found not in the wallboard but in the skincoat applied thereon, presumably to make the wallboard look more like plaster. Since no skincoat was applied in closets, we convinced the town to save those sections of the house's "fabric."

And there, between the studs on the back of the wallboard in the vestibule closet, was a label, upside down near the floor. 

 

The label calls the material Insulating Board, to be used outside or inside the frame to provide some measure of insulation and draft reduction. 

This quote, believed to come from a book entitled Twentieth Century Building Materials: History and Conservation, serves as a good description:

"Fiberboard is a composite hardboard material made from pressure molded wood fibers. It had early precedents in the late 18th century, but was first manufactured in large quantities in the 1920s, with its use expanding in the 1930s and 40s. Fiberboard (or wallboard, as it is commonly known) was marketed by various companies, such as Masonite. It was used as sheathing for roofing and siding on the exterior, for insulation, and for interior walls."

Another excellent online source comes from the U.S. Forest service, entitled Early 20th-Century Building Materials: Fiberboard and Plywood. It describes what at that time were innovative products just beginning to come into widespread use. 

At the bottom of the partially torn label on the Veblen House fiberboard was just enough information to track down the manufacturer, Oswego Board Corp, NY. That name in turn stirred up a few fragments on the internet about that company, which had just formed a few years earlier, with its newly elected president, Floyd L. Carlisle.

Another snippet, from Poors publication, fills in the missing letters on the other name at the bottom of the label: Johns-Manville, which, according to the NY Times, in 1927 teamed with Oswego Board Corporation to manufacture and distribute "a new type of sheathing and insulating board." 

If construction of the plant began in 1927, our 1931 prefab must have been one of the first to be built with this new product.

Without that one label exposed and left undisturbed during asbestos removal, the story of the Veblen House wallboard might have been lost.