Spite Buildings

Often in life we find someone who has annoyed us to such a point that we would do nearly anything for revenge.  Well imagine a property owner who willing to take extreme and drastic action to prove a point, of spite that is, to a neighbor, city or other purpose.  This concept is perhaps less often found in modern times with regulations of building codes and such, but 100+ years ago it was much more common then you might think.  With a little bit of money and a cast iron will to prove a point, one can go to extraordinary lengths to let others know just who is in charge. Here are several examples of spite buildings built throughout the times.


Detroit Michigan, Scott's Folly


James Scott was a man who some admired and never said a bad word about, but apparently his supporters were few and far between.  Apparently many in town had a distaste for him and his ways.  According to some reports, Scott was a playboy, gambler, vindictive, ruthless and cutthroat. He told off color jokes and used intimidation to get his way in life.  Scott obtained his fortune in rising real estate prices from land his father had left him. After Scott died in 1910, he left a large amount of money to the city of Detroit to construct a large fountain.  Many felt it was an outrage to allow a man whom so many despised have a fountain constructed in his name in such a fine city.    A 1911 article from the New York Times discusses and his spite house.

"Bitter Fight over "Jim" Scott's Million-Dollar Fountain Ends

This is the story of a man who led a practically blameless life for eighty years, according to the preponderance of testimony, as blameless as that of the average man at least, who loved his home, his family, his friends, and his city, the latter so much that when he died he left five-sixths of a fortune of $600,000 to the municipality of Detroit, with which to build a fountain on Bell Isle, and who has been since his death, a year ago, unmercifully reviled for his generosity.  James Scott was his name - "Jim" he was universally called.  When the provisions of his will became known, somebody said Jim Scott was a gambler, and that the city would disgrace itself by accepting a gift of a fortune founded in a poker-fare joint.  There arose a hue and cry which did not end until the city council, on Jan 3, accepted the gift.  Half a century ago Jim Scott gabbled.  He was fleeced, not the fleecer. He never played cards again.  Jim Scott got his fortune through a rise in value of Detroit real estate left him by his father and when he died he gave it back to the city.  Those who reviled Jim Scott are compelled to look above them, not below them, to find the closest friends of Jim Scott.  Senator Palmer, Michigan's honored and venerable statesman, was one of them.  Lawrence Barrett was another.  Don M. Dickinson, President Cleveland's first Postmaster General, was another.  It was the generous side of Jim Scott's nature which led to all the rumpus over his will.  Jim was noted for his unostentatious charities.  If one of Jim's friends wanted money he knew where to get it.  Witness the following letter from Lawrence Barrett, written in 1873, when the great actor had no fame or fortune:  "Dear Jim: I want $500 pretty bad for ninety days.  Can you let me have it? The only security I have is my name and my prospects.  I won't ask everyone to do me a favor.  I can give you an order on Alken of Chicago for that sum, payable out of my three-weeks' engagement there, which begins Sept. 1.  That's how I stand.  The money will help me to keep a stiff upper lip.  My present tour is taking just enough money to pay my company's salaries, but the wolf must be kept from the hearthstone.  I will give you my note with interest payable, as I said, in Chicago, Sept 15.  If you consent to oblige me, dear Scott, say 'yes' by telegraph here tomorrow before evening and send cash to Titusville, Penn., whither Monday or Tuesday.  In any case I request that the affair be made confidential.  This is not business, I know, Jim, but it is a case of strong friendship.  With sincere regards. Yours ever, Lawrence Barrett"

Without Jim Scott's friendship that company might have dissolved and Barrett drifted back to a dry goods stone in Detroit, whence he was fired one day when his employer caught him entertaining the rest of the staff from the top of a dry goods box caricaturing the peculiarities of said employer.  Jim Scott kept the matter confidential.  The existence of the letter was not publicly known until the executors of his estate found it.  Senator Palmer is one of Jim's most eloquent defenders: "Jim got his property from his father," said Senator Palmer.  "There was no stain on it. There was no stain on his character. He was not a gambler. He was a wit, and could tell storied in an inimitable way."  Jim Scott helped many friends more extensively.  When a very young man, he placed his newly acquired fortune at the disposal of a girl cousin who had inherited the estate of Scott's own grandmother and become involved.  He saved her home for her. He did a like service for the widow of Judge J. Logan Chipman.  He loaned large amounts to friends who requested assistance in business, and right there was when he acquired the stigma of a "gambler."  Running a gambling house in the '80s was not, in this section of the country, a disreputable business.  One of Jim's friends invested the money Jim let him have in such a place.  Scott himself has no interest in it.  The money was eventually paid back.  Later, partied in Cincinnati and St. Louis borrowed money for the same purpose and Scott let them have it solely as a business loan upon which interest was paid.  It was through the St. Louis loan that Scott came to gamble that fatal "just once" which affected his character for the remainder of his life.  He went to St. Louis to collect his loan.  The proprietors of the joint invited Jim to play a little.  He consented to try a little fare.  The house did not play square and when Jim quit he was out $88,000.  The loan was canceled.  Such a double dealing by men whom he had befriended gave Jim a cynical view of human nature, which lasted the rest of his life.  The "grouch" was responsible for a good many deeds which made him unpleasantly famous.  He had vowed never to let anybody get the best of him again.  And to the best of the evidence obtainable, no one ever did.  He did not cease his charities, or his habit of aiding friends, but in business deals he was acid.  Hence "Scott's Folly" and the "Hog Block"

"Scott's Folly" is a $20,000 structure of stone on the corner of Peterboro and Park Streets, which appears from the Peterboro front to be a three story mansion; from the park street side, a big slab of rock with a window casing or two in it: and from a viewpoint a few yards south on Park Street, a walled dungeon of the fifteenth century.  Scott owner a lot on the corner and sought to acquire the lot on Park Street next to it so that he might build a mansion.  The owner put the price clear out of reason.  So Scott built that long, narrow, three story affair of beautiful architecture on the Peterboro side and a solid brick wall at the back.  It knocked the value of the lot he had been unable to acquire flat.  It is vacant today though all around it are fine residences.  "Scott's Folly" stood vacant twenty years.  He would not live in it, nor lease it.  

"Scott's Folly" Mansion in 1910

Folly on the right hand side.  See how narrow it was?

Scott's Folly Today.


The "Hog Block" was the outcome of a quarrel with G. & R. McMillan, a big Detroit grocery firm.  Scott owned land on which their building stood.  He decided to do something they declined to accede to.  So he build a dinky block next to their store, on top of which he caused to be erected a gigantic gilded image in the likeness of a hog.  It decorated Woodward Avenue for years.  When his spite had cooled he tore it down and constructed a big business block.  As to the fountain, over which all the present hullabaloo has been raised, Jim planned it a decade ago, shortly after his wife died.  The idea was inspired, not by craving for fame or notoriety for himself, but by the failure of a number of men who could count their wealth in five times as large chunks as he could, to endow the city with a similar object of beauty.  Simon J. Murphy and James E Scripps were at the head of the scheme.  They planned a peristyle to cost a million dollars and got Stanford White to view and make drawings for it.  Mr. Murphy headed the fund with $50,000, Mr Scripps wrote himself down for $25,000 and several wealthy friends chipped in, but the project finally had to be dropped.  In planning his gift, Jim's vow to never let anyone get the best of him again was not forgotten.  Jim perceived that if a magnificent fountain appeared on Belle Isle, with little or nothing to indicate what made it possible, the ordinary run of folks would assume his gift to be the Murphy-Scripps-Stanford White proposition, finally carried out.  So Jim specified in his will that a life-sized statue of one James Scott should be placed on it.  This was what struck in the crops of many good individuals  who might otherwise have brought themselves to acquiesce in the acceptance of tainted money.  But Jim will have his way.  Edmund Shuite, a New York metal sculptor, is the first man to make an offer to do the work.  The value of Scott's property is increasing so rapidly that when plans are completed the money available for the fountain will amount to nearly a million dollars.  It is hoped to make the fountain the rival of the famed one at Versailles.  The acceptance of the fountain by the council marked the end of a campaign as bitter as a political battle.  All the newspapers and the clergymen joined in the assault on Jim Scott's character.  But Scott's influential friends tallied, and on the final vote in the council only four alderman opposed the bequest.  The opposition went to the lengths of comparing the Scott bequest to the proposal of the courtesan Phryne, in 400 B.C., to rebuild Thebes from her own purse if Athens would give her imperishable credit for the work."

 Scott's Fountain.

Statue of Scott although it didn't make it on the fountain but rather behind it.


Scott's Mansion was converted to apartments after his death which explains the addition of the tower on the left side and other additions.  Some reports suggest that the mansion remained remarkably intact into the 1960s or 70s when a fire destroyed the building.  It has been vacant and decaying ever since. While it is a ruin, some could say that Scott won the battle as his spite mansion is still standing and the lot he always wanted to obtain is nothing but tall grass.


Charles Crocker Spite Wall, San Francisco, CA

Charles Crocker, one of the "big four" in San Francisco history was not a man to be messed with.  The big four were the men who are credited with "building" the Central Pacific Railroad.  These men included Leland Stanford, Collis Potter Huntington, Mark Hopkins (See the Hopkins Mansion here: Mark Hopkins Masion   ) and Charles Crocker.

Crocker built a huge mansion along side his other "big four friends"  and he was a man of steel nerves. A San Francisco Chronicle of 1902 tells the story better then I could:

 Front Elevation of Crocker Mansion

Crocker mansion and his son's house to the left.

"Famous Spite Fence has outlived its purpose.

Built Around Small Lot by Charles Crocker Because Owner Would Not Sell to Him.
"FOR SALE" signs have been placed by real estate agents on the lot on Sacramento street, near Taylor, which Charles Crocker surrounded with a high spite fence twenty-six years ago because the owner, Nicholas Yung, refused to sell the property to him at the price Crocker offered.
This fence is the most famous memorial of malignity and malevolence in the city. Thousands of persons have gone up Nob Hill to view it since its erection in 1876. Crocker has long been dead, but his heirs have preserved this testimonial of rancor. Yung went to the grave in 1880, but his offense of fixing his own price on his own residence was never pardoned by the Crockers. The fence has been an eyesore to them as well as to everybody else, but they have kept up the feud and sought to hide the ugliness of the lofty barricade on their side of it by covering the boards with ivy and other greenery. The fence cost about $3000, but Crocker was a millionaire and did not mind the expense, and he had the satisfaction of driving the Yung family away from their home. Their house was boxed up and the sunlight shut out, and Yung was compelled to move the dwelling to another lot which he owned on Broderick street. The tall fence destroyed the value of the Sacramento street lot, which for about a quarter of a century has remained unused and unsightly. Mrs. Rosina Yung, widow of the man who incurred the deep displeasure of the Crockers, had a considerable estate and preferred to keep the cooped-up lot rather than sell it for the trifle which she might have been able to obtain. She died in last January and bequeathed the property, which has been appraised at about $80,000, to her daughters, who are Mrs. C. D. Postel, of Alameda, Mrs. O. J. Kron of San Francisco, Mrs. Frank Church of El Paso, Tex., and Mrs. John Kelly Russell of San Jose. In the course of administration the sale of the property belonging to the estate has been ordered.

While it may appear that the wall was behind the large white mansion of Huntington it was actually on the tiny corner of Crocker's block of land.

When the last lot has been sold to someone not of the Yung blood it may be that the Crockers will drop their legacy of hatred and let the inartistic monument of resentment be torn down. Perhaps they may conclude to buy the lot which they wanted so badly.
In 1895 Mrs. Yung appealed to the city authorities to have the fence removed, and the Board of Supervisors, appreciating the wrong which had been done to her and her family by the erection and maintenance, was willing to comply with her request, but City and County Attorney Creswell advised the Board that it has no power to interfere with the legal right of the Crockers to keep the structure standing. The resolution of the Supervisors, on which the City and County Attorney rendered his opinion, contained this statement concerning the Yung lot and the celebrated fence: A number of years ago a valuable dwelling-house was erected upon the said lot and the erection of said fence excluded air, light and the necessary adjuncts of habitable life, thereby making said house uninhabitable and the ground valueless, which resulted in having the house removed, leaving the lot unoccupied, and thus working a great injury to Mrs. Yung and depriving her of constitutional rights.

The Yung lot is the only portion of the block bounded by California, Taylor, Sacramento and Jones streets which Charles Crocker was unable to secure, when he erected his mansion there. Nicholas Yung, who was in the undertaking business and who was comfortably fixed, although not wealthy, preferred to stay in his Nob hill home. He and his family enjoyed the view and the other advantages of the situation as much as did Crocker, and he saw no reason why he should trade his residence for some other property which Corcker offered him, and emigrate. Crocker was willing to give him $6000, but we would not sell, even when the blasting on the Crocker site sent rocks flying around his house and the grading left his place up in the air. Finally Crocker threatened to fence in the Yung home, and at last Yung said he would sell for $12,000. Crocker refused to pay that sum, and carried out his threat to put up the fence. Yung did not consider the price he asked exorbitant, it being said that Flood paid $25,000 for a similar lot when he wished to get a complete block on Nob Hill.

Several years ago Mrs. Yung said: "Carrying out the policy of my husband, I did not care to retaliate for the meanness shown by Mr. Crocker. There are some things in which people like ourselves do not care to stoop. I have had many offers to lease the lot for Chinese laundry purposes, merely to annoy the Crockers, but I refused. I have been asked also by advertising firms to let them use the lot for large signs, and while I could have go a revenue from the lot by doing so, I declined all such offers."
When the Yungs moved away and subsequently had their lot graded the Crockers reduced the height of the fence somewhat, and now it is about twenty-five feet above the earth. The reduction was made because the wind at times threatened to lay the lofty fence low, and thus show what the spirit of the elements thought of the Crocker spite. Had not the Crockers kept the fence strongly braced, it would long since have been demolished by the winds. "

Apparently Yung fought back by placing a coffin with a skull and cross bones on the roof of his house as a curse against the mean old Crocker.

Then in 1904 things changed.  According to a New York Times article:

 "SAN FRANCISCO, Jan 19 [1904]. -- For over twenty years tourists to San Francisco have been shown the twenty-foot-high "spite fence" which the old railroad millionaire Charles Crocker built around the house and lot of Undertaker Nicholas Yung because his poorer neighbor would not sell his home to make Crocker's ownership of the block on Nob Hill complete.
Now, many years after Yung's death, his widow is dead and the heirs have agreed to sell the lot to the Crocker estate. The fence will now come down.
When Crocker tried to buy this property, in the early seventies, he and Yung were good friends. Crocker offered $5,000, but Yung wanted $7,000. Neither would yield, and hence the feud."

History however gave the Crocker family gave a gift Yung himself probably would have welcomed.  With the great earthquake Crocker's mansion was reduced to the photos below:

Richardson Spite House

The Richardson Spite House in New York City was located at Lexington 82nd Street built in 1882 and torn down in 1915.  It was 4 stories tall and only 5 feet deep which made the arrangement of rooms, well difficult.  The owner of  an adjacent lot wished to purchase the small lot which most considered useless for a building.

A 1929 Article discusses the history of the building:

A.G. Van der Weyde
New York for a period of thirty-two years boasted the queerest house in this country, if not in the entire world. This was the famous Richardson "Spite House." at Lexington Avenue and 43rd Street. The house extended north 104 feet on the avenue, but was only, five feet wide. In general appearance it was not unlike a bicycle case set on end. The house attracted much attention during its brief existence. which terminated a little less than five years ago.
The house was erected to satisfy a personal grudge and the owner lived fifteen years to enjoy the discomfort that it caused the man he wished to spite. The story of the "Spite House," as a result of much litigation in the courts, is voluminously told in the court records. Briefly this is the story:
In the year 1882 one Hyman Sarner, a clothier, who owned several lots on East 82nd Street, wished to build apartment houses on his property, which extended to within a few feet of Lexington Avenue. On the Lexington Avenue side was a very long and very narrow strip of land, absolutely valueless, he thought, for any building purpose, unless taken in conjunction with adjoining land.
Sarner ascertained that one Joseph Richardson was the owner of the narrow strip along the Avenue. He offered Richardson $1,000 for the land, but Richardson demurred, saying he considered the property worth very much more. He wanted $5,000. Sarner refused to pay this price and Richardson called his
visitor a "tight-wad" and slammed the door on him. Sarner then proceeded with the construction of his apartment house and arranged with the architect who drew the plans that there should be windows overlooking Lexington Avenue. When the. houses were finished Richardson noted the windows and then and there determined upon his curious revenge.
"I shall build me," he said to his daughter  "a couple of tall houses on the little strip which will bar the light from Sarner's windows overlooking my land, and he'll find he would have profited had he paid me the $5,000."
The daughter, Della by name, unavailingly protested, as did also Richardson's wife, that a house only five feet wide would he uninhabitable.
The old man, who had acquired a reputation as a miser, was obdurate. "Not only will I build the houses," he insisted, "but I will live in one of them and I shall rent to other tenants as well. Everybody is not fat and there will be room enough for people who are not circus or museum folk."
So, within a year, the house was built. It effectively blocked out the light from all the side windows on Sarner's property, and old Dir. Richardson was happy. The Richardson "Spite House" was four stories in height and was divided into eight suites, two on each floor. Each suite consisted of three rooms and bath, running along the Lexington Avenue side of the structure.
Only the very smallest furniture could be fitted into the rooms. The stairways were so narrow that only one person could use a stair at a time. If a tenant wished to descend or ascend, from one floor to another, he would, of necessity, have to ascertain that no one else was using the stair. The halls throughout the house were so narrow that one person could pass another only by dodging into of the rooms until the other had passed by. The largest dining table in any of the suites was 18 inches in width. The chairs were proportionately small. The kitchen stoves were the very smallest that are made.
Richardson, with his wife. Emma-she was the old man's second wife occupying a suite on the ground floor. "Miss Della." as she was known, the daughter, who followed the example of her penurious father in her mode of life declined to live in the Spite House, declaring that it was "too swell" a structure for her. She was now far along in years and preferred to remain where she had long lived in a dwelling called "the Prison House" on East Houston Street. She was seen by the neighbors only in the early morning, when she swept the steps, visited the grocery store for some bare necessities and returned to immulate herself in her "prison house;' where she refused to see any visitors.
"Miss Della" was almost as wealthy as her father. She was as avaricious and parsimonious as the old man and owned much property in New York City.
Joseph Richardson died in 1897 at the age of eightyfour. He left his property including, of course, the famous "Spite. House"-to his widow and the two children, one of whom was the " Miss Della" of "Prison House" fame. The builder of the "Spite House" was buried in a coffin which he had had made thirty-two ,years earlier and which he had always stored in a room of the house where he lived.
Soon after the old man's death "Miss Della" brought suit against her stepmother to dispossess her from her quarters in the "Spite House," Miss Della " claiming that the aged miser's wife was merely a tenant and could he evicted upon due notice. Mrs. Richardson fought the case in the courts for many months.
In the year 1902 the "Spite House" was sold by the heirs to James V. Graham and Charles Reckling. later it passed into the possession of C. .A. Stein. a real estate dealer of East 75th Street. and in 1909 it again changed hands.
On August Z(1, 1915. the career of the strange house cattle to a sudden end when I3th & Bing. real estate operators of 119 West 40th Street, abruptly bought the old building, and in short order tore it down, as well as two adjoining houses. and erected fit their place the big clcvcn-slory apartment house that now stands on the location made historic by the "Spite House."
New York newspaper turn who visited the "Spite House" wrote interesting stories about the queer building, and it was the subject a generation ago of many jokes and humorous drawings.
Deacon Terry. of "The American." who is now dead, and who was of rotund figure, was sent by his paper one day in the 90s, to interview Richardson at the "Spite House,*' He was told at the entrance that Richardson was not in his own apartment on the ground floor and that probable fie had gone up to the roof to see some workmen who were making repairs.
Terry started up but got stuck in the narrow stairway and found that the more he struggled to extricate himself the faster he seemed to become wedged. A tenant from the ground floor tried to help by pushing from below and a tenant from above who wanted to reach the street pushed in the opposite direction. It was a hot midsummer day and the corpulent reporter, perspiring profusely, was getting a pretty good mauling between the two tenants when the happy thought occurred to him of slipping out of his clothes. He found the expedient difficult enough of accomplishment but not impossible. After ten minutes of hard work he had rid himself of his outer garments. Forcing the upstairs tenant before him he proceeded to the roof, and to the interview, in his underclothes. In telling about his adventure later. Terry said that as he struggled on the stairway, he constantly thought of the loss of weight that attends profuse perspiration and could not but wonder how much or how long he would have to perspire to reduce his avoirdupois to such a point that he could disengage himself from the grasp of the stairway.

The Tyler Spite House 

They Tyler Spite house in Frederick MD from 1814 was built by a local doctor when the town wanted to build a through road right through his property. He learned of an obscure law which forbade the city from building a road on a property where a building was already being built.  The doctor had the contractors build the foundation at night.  The following day the foundation had already been laid and Tyler won. His house still stands as en excellent example of beating the city with his own careful thought and examination of their rules.

The Skinny House. Boston MA

The skinny house in Boston is another wonderful example of hatred and construction meeting.  The house is a little over 10 feet at its widest point.  The legend goes that two brothers inherited a plot of land after their father's passing.  When one brother was away serving in the military, the other brother constructed a large house leaving only a small sliver of land remaining.  When the brother returned he was so upset he began constructing the house which would block light and ventilation to the adjoining building thereby diminishing the value of the other home.  Constructed after 1874.

Alameda CA Spite House

Here is another perfect example of fighting back against the city.  The owner planed to build his dream house on the lot, but the city ended up taking a huge chunk of his land away to build a road.  The owner undaunted still built his home, showing that with lemons you make lemonade.

Tiny Spite Shop in NYC
Even businesses can be built out of spite.  Take for example this charming little building that was located at the corner of 161st St and Melrose Ave in New York City.  An early article reads:

This odd building stands on the corner of 161st Street and Melrose Avenue, New York City. It is a bit over 4ft. in depth, 17ft. frontage, and one and a-half storeys high, with a basement and sub-basement built under the broad sidewalk, extending to the curb. The house itself is of wood, on a steel frame, and has a slate roof.

Its owner is an eccentric tailor, who lives and carries on his trade below the street. The interior consists of a small show-room, a store-room, and spiral iron stairway going down to the "lower regions." The upper storey seems to have been constructed merely as a finishing touch. It is reached by an iron ladder from the store-room. The entire construction, appointments, and fittings are very ingenious, and are all the ideas of the owner.

The story of the house is that the original lot was cut away in opening the avenue, save only the few feet now occupied by the building. A controversy arose between the tailor and the owner of the adjoining property regarding the disposal of the small strip, and the tailor becoming enraged because his neighbour would neither sell his property nor pay the price the knight of the shears demanded, built this odd structure out of spite. The photo. was taken just at the completion of the building, and before the street had been fully paved. It shows, however, the dimensions of the building, and also the construction under the street, etc. Photo. sent in by Mr. W. R. Yard, 156, Fifth Avenue, New York City."

Freeport Spite House

Another great example of "screw you" to the city is the Freeport Spite house in New York.  The city wanted to develop the city in a simplistic grid pattern.  The owner of one property didn't quite like the sounds of that so he ensured that would not happen.  Here is a photo of the house and how the road is now.  Built in the Victorian era.

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