Key Facts from This Era
- •c. 1845: McCrea builds the block in Greek Revival/Italianate style
- •22' x 90' lot running to Waverly Street
- •1899: Duhring, Okie & Ziegler modernization
- •1905: Fireplace installation, still in use
- •1995: Historic district designation protects exterior
I keep score in stone. The first tally was brick and marble, a sober grammar of lintel and sill. Then came the careful substitutions: a brighter jet of light, pipes that sang in winter, more confident paper on the walls. Through all of it, I stayed myself: a long hall for movement, two parlors for ceremony, a service path to the quiet of Waverly.
The Original Idea (c. 1845-1854)
John McCrea's building campaign west of Broad gave this block its unified red-brick front and side-hall plan—late Greek Revival tending toward Italianate in cornice and proportion. Inside: high ceilings, marble mantels, a gracious stair. Outside: the white-marble stoop that still frames the entry. The lot runs 22 feet by 90 feet back to Waverly, setting up the invisible service geometry that continues to make events and load-in seamless today.
The April 1854 deed from McCrea to John Roset marks the beginning of the house's documented life at this address—the physical foundation for all that would follow. McCrea was prolific, responsible for multiple Pine, Delancey, and Spruce blockfronts, giving the area its unified red-brick face that still defines Rittenhouse Square's character.
The 1899 Modernization
When Agnes M. Spencer took title on April 3, 1899, she hired Duhring, Okie & Ziegler for 'alterations and additions'—a classic turn-of-century refresh that likely meant upgraded plumbing and lighting, decorative refinishing, and a clearer separation of service from show. This is the provable line—client, address, architects, date—to place beside mantel and stair.
Family memory and period patterns suggest a rear extension and back stair; we present those as probable until permit records confirm the exact scope. What we can prove is the commission itself: printed in the newspapers of the time, naming this exact address.
The 1905 installation of a fireplace by J.N. Long for $130 represents continued investment in comfort and modernization—small improvements that accumulated into the gracious whole we see today. That hearth still warms gatherings as it warmed Mrs. Davis's 'At Homes' over a century ago.
Adaptation Without Amputation (1900s-1950s)
As medicine moved in, the building gained signage and light partitioning rather than structural surgery: a parlor as waiting room, an inner room as consultation, and the family still moving above. The 1915-1916 medical directories listing Dr. Damon B. Pfeiffer and Stillwell Corson Burns at 1822 Pine demonstrate this flexible use—professional below, residential above.
Mid-century, like much of Rittenhouse, 1822 Pine cycled through professional suites and apartments—a pragmatic interval that, paradoxically, protected original fabric by keeping the building in constant use. The deed abstracts from 1922, 1941, 1947, 1949, and 1952 trace this evolution of ownership while the bones of the house remained intact.
Protection and Revival (1995-Present)
The house sits within the Rittenhouse-Fitler Residential Historic District (local register, 1995), which helped preserve its exterior character through late-twentieth-century work and subsequent private restorations. By the 2010s, marketing materials celebrated six to eight bedrooms, high ceilings, and original detailing.
Today the home operates as The Rittenhouse Residence—a historic townhouse where Philadelphia's architectural heritage meets modern hospitality. The plan that worked for Victorian ceremonies works perfectly for modern events: side-hall circulation means clear sightlines and minimal cross-traffic, the double parlors expand or contract as needed, and the service corridor to Waverly keeps the mechanics invisible.
Notice how the stair geometry reads the social order: public life below, family life above, service to the rear. The mantels and plaster mark the mid-nineteenth-century core, while a few details skew subtly Edwardian from the 1899 refit. The rear logic—the Waverly axis—still does the house's invisible work, exactly as it did when coal and ice arrived by that route.