Photographs by David Kreutz
The house bespeaks an era long, long gone.
A 12,000-square-foot Tudor Revival mansion, it was originally built for a prominent businessman and his wife in Vandeventer Place, a late 19th century enclave that was one of the city’s first and most exclusive gated communities. Family tragedy swept the businessman into a deep depression, and he committed suicide in the library. His grieving widow could not bear to stay there, nor could she bear to lose the home they had loved. So she had the original design, by Mauran, Russell & Crowell, rebuilt closer to Forest Park, which was still resplendent in the aftermath of the 1904 World’s Fair.
After the widow’s death, the home was bought by Busch relatives, and for nearly three decades they entertained Veiled Prophet queens, prominent politicians and the crème de la crème of St. Louis society.
Times haven’t changed all that much.
Today’s owners, who asked not to be named, use the Central West End mansion to host parties that are just as grand, but more philanthropic in nature. In one month alone they hosted three events, one with 110 guests. “Many organizations—charitable, cultural and civic—enjoy using our home,” the wife explains, “and we like to give back to the community.”
They are doing this at an age when their peers are downsizing or buying vacation homes—yet they’ve never once considered selling the house. With a combined family of five children, their respective mates and 14 grandchildren, plus steady entertaining, all 17 rooms—and all seven fireplaces—get used.
When the husband purchased the house in 1978, it was already part of St. Louis’ architectural history. Years later, his wife forged ahead, spurning the help of an interior designer. She had the walls and millwork in the 30-foot-by-17-foot foyer repainted in warm whites. Hall closets were removed to reveal windows. A wooden front door was replaced with large glass panels, allowing natural light to flood in and emphasize the house’s architectural details: a center staircase that splits into a double staircase on the landing and pairs of French doors that open from the entry hall to the public rooms—the living room, library and dining room.
Set off by an entry niche, the formal dining room is no roped-off, open-only-at-Thanksgiving chamber. It is the scene of family gatherings, fancy sit-down dinner parties for a dozen and all manner of gatherings for charities and friends. Despite its 26-foot-by-16-foot dimensions (with 10-foot ceilings), the room is deceptively intimate, with fireplace, bay window, hand-stamped period-style wallpaper by Bradbury & Bradbury and coordinating ceiling paper in a fretwork pattern.
The kitchen is truly the hearth of this home. The couple gave general contractor and designer Jeff Markway 18 months to do a gut rehab, combining the kitchen, breakfast room and the old servants’ dining room while maintaining the house’s high style. “We went down to the brick walls and the sub-floor,” the wife says. “We wanted to match the rest of the house. We wanted to open up the area to make it airy.”
The new L-shaped kitchen, with its box-beam ceiling and simple cabinets, looks as though it were designed at the turn of the century, but is augmented with granite countertops and top-of-the-line appliances. Markway’s carpenters built seven new windows with moldings to match those in the rest of the house.
“We hang out a lot in the kitchen when we’re home alone,” the wife says. With a 50-inch plasma television mounted near the ceiling and a loveseat with ottoman, the room is cozy despite its large size and high ceiling. While she cooks, her husband surfs the Web on a computer that rests on the cherry desk next to the large island.
The wife’s favorite appliances include a warming drawer under the double oven. “I use that drawer every day,” she says. Pointing to the island’s refrigerated produce drawers, she adds, “This is the best thing I ever did, putting them right next to my prep sink.”
At 36 feet by 16 feet, the kitchen is larger than many New York apartments. And that’s not counting the separate, also rehabbed, 16-foot-by-16-foot pantry, which the couple uses as a bar area for large parties. Nor does it include the dining niche with twin banquettes that together seat up to nine. The cherry banquettes have back cushions of corduroy and seats of vinyl. This is where the grandchildren eat. “We used vinyl because some of our babies are still in diapers,” the wife says with a grin.
The second floor holds the master bedroom, his-and-her home offices and a guest bedroom that’s like a room in a fin de siècle hotel with its ornate English steel fireplace surround and mantelpiece, circa 1870. An enormous potted palm stands in the bay window, near a dressing table and a heavily carved 19th century mirrored pecan armoire. Hearkening back to Victorian times, there are three rooms that once served as servants’ quarters.
On the third floor, the older grandchildren romp with abandon in the playroom and often in the kids’ dorm, which sleeps three. The bedroom features a trio of matching wallpapers of stars, stripes and—when they finally settle down—a night sky with stars and moons on the ceiling.
“A house is constant work,” concedes the husband. “But we never cease to enjoy it.”
