You don't see the house from the street at first. Instead, you pass through the gateposts to enter a stone courtyard that shuts out the busy road and draws you into a peaceful quiet. Then through the next gate, the full drama of George Howe's The Firs reveals itself: A Norman manor hovering above an expansive lawn sweeping toward the Wissahickon, with floor-to-ceiling windows framing views of the forested landscape. 

"Suddenly you're in a different place," says current owner David Wilton, who has invested an enormous amount of time and care restoring the house in the decade since he bought it. "A quiet kind of somewhere else."

This masterful orchestration of arrival and revelation is no accident. Built in 1922 as a smaller version of his own acclaimed residence High Hollow, which sits on the adjacent hillside at the edge of the view, the Firs showcases Howe's early mastery of traditional design principles while hinting at the modernist sensibility that would later make him a significant figure among America's 20th-century architects.

Born of the ground

The genius of The Firs lies in the way Howe reimagined the possibilities of the land it sits on. Rather than rebuild on the site of the original house, which sat in the base of a hollow, he chose a dramatic new location along a ridge of rock – a decision that would require extraordinary engineering. The house is effectively perched a full story above its lawn, supported by massive foundations and retaining walls built into the steep, rocky slope. That this ambitious siting succeeded is testament to both Howe's vision and his technical acumen – even during the heaviest storms, the basement remains dry despite numerous natural springs on the surrounding hillside.

The reward is a house that seems to float above its landscape – with the woods of the Wissahickon as a dramatic backdrop. "When you're inside, with its enormous windows looking out past the terraces and over the landscape, you're immediately drawn to this fantastic view out over the lawn, with the forest just beyond it," Wilton notes. "You can see it from wherever you are inside the house."

For Wilton, an international investor who is now selling the property because he is relocating overseas, it’s difficult to walk away.

“I’m very sad to leave it, very sad indeed,” he said. “This house - and Chestnut Hill – have been very good to me.”

A mastery of detail

The house itself reveals Howe's experimentation with what he called “the organic nature of architecture.” He believed that human necessity was the driving force behind form, space, and detail – and that distilling the primary function of a building was the only way to arrive at its essential beauty. At the Firs, this meant creating a building from which to view its unique landscape. Discrete spaces embrace the people who enter it, and orient them within the structure, only to pull their gaze out through deep windows toward the Wissahickon Park. 

The careful placement of the main forms – from the informal stable at the front of the property, through the enclosed stone courtyard just inside the gates, to the house itself – responds to the steep walls of the valley, engaging the dramatic natural space of the hollow and the larger dynamic of the Wissahickon Park. 

The ground floor begins at the stone entry courtyard, with its glimpsing views into the landscape beyond, and flows into the house with a stone vestibule that seamlessly links exterior to interior – creating a continuous connection between the courtyard, foyer, and central stair. This thoughtful progression continues with a floor plan that continuously embraces the expanse of lawn behind the house, where the stone terracing spills naturally into the landscape.

"It's such a nice entrance from which to come into the house,” Wilton says. “And then inside – whichever room you're in, you've got that view out over the garden, and the forest beyond. You really feel that you've arrived somewhere."

Every element of the house reveals Howe’s attention to detail. Deep-set windows pierce the massive stone walls, their substantial frames creating a sense of shelter while drawing the eye outward to the landscape. Paneled doors feature exquisite yet rustic hardware hand-crafted by Howe's good friend Samuel Yellin, Philadelphia's renowned ironworker. Simple trim details are kept to a minimum, likely to keep one's attention back to the view. 

An architect at the crossroads

Born in Worcester, Mass. in 1886, Howe received a B.A. in architecture from Harvard University in 1908 and then spent the following year in Italy studying and sketching Italian architecture. He was admitted to the Atelier Laloux in Paris, and in 1912 graduated from that city's historic art school, the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, where, under Victor Laloux, a French Beaux-Arts architect and teacher, Howe began a thesis that would later supply the groundwork used to design his own Chestnut Hill residence, High Hollow.

Following graduation, Howe returned to Philadelphia to work as an apprentice for the architectural firm Furness, Evans & Co from 1913-1916. In 1917 he joined the firm of Walter Mellor & Arthur Ingersoll Meigs – a firm well-known at that time for building traditional country homes.

When Howe designed The Firs, shortly after becoming a partner at Mellor, Meigs and Howe, he had already established himself as a master of traditional architectural forms. Yet he was also wrestling with ideas about modernism and function that would later transform American architecture.

The Firs reflects this transition. While its Norman manor style speaks to Howe's classical training and understanding of human scale, its use of an engineering solution to achieve its high view, emphasis on natural light, careful integration with the landscape, and attention to function hint at the modernist principles he would later embrace. The house embodies what Howe would come to call "agreeable human necessity" – the idea that good design flows naturally from human needs, regardless of style.

Living architecture

The proportions and flow of The Firs are as carefully considered as its siting. "The house at scale is incredibly livable. It's just very easy to manage, the way it's laid out. It flows very nicely out onto both the garden terrace and the side terrace. When you're entertaining, and it's good weather, you can have people spilling out onto both," Wilton says. 

The Firs gets its name from this property's original incarnation as a sanitarium run by Dr. Abbott Chase, who catered to wealthy patients seeking rest cures by the Wissahickon. When Chase retired, the land was subdivided, with George Howe purchasing a large plot he would use to build his own residence, High Hollow, and Benjamin and Nana Illoway acquiring the section containing the original Firs – a Queen Anne wooden house that would soon make way for Howe's new vision.

With its innovative design and superior craftsmanship, that vision stands as an iconic example of Chestnut Hill's rich architectural heritage. Like many of Howe's houses, it demonstrates a sophisticated approach to materials, craftsmanship, and integration with the landscape so characteristic of Northwest Philadelphia’s built environment. 

A bridge between two eras

It was just a decade later, in 1932, that Howe would go on to design Philadelphia's landmark PSFS Building in partnership with William Lescaze. As America's first International Style skyscraper, it announced U.S. architecture's entry into the modern era. 

Yet The Firs suggests that this dramatic shift was less a rupture than an evolution. Here, we see an architect already thinking deeply about how buildings should respond to both human needs and natural settings – ideas that would inform his later modernist work. 

And today, the Firs feels like a timeless space that, despite its history, still feels fresh. It achieves what all great architecture aspires to – a sense of place that transcends its era.