12.16.2016 | DIGS.NET 133
Upon Ned's marriage to Lucy Smith, his oil baron father
bestowed the couple with one of the more memorable—and
profitable—wedding presents to come down the pike: a premium
12.58-acre parcel on a hilltop in Beverly Hills, the now christened
Greystone Mansion & Gardens: The Doheny Estate. It was an
ode to opulence that no one outside the realm of a Rockefeller
could reasonably grasp in 1925 (its more than $3 million in estate
construction costs the budget of an overlord at the time).
On Greystone grounds were everything from tennis courts,
kennels and a fire station to a swimming pool, pavilion,
greenhouse and lake (to complement brooks, waterfalls and
formal English gardens). Amid this extravagant setting, Ned
and Lucy placed what in any parlance is a palace: an imposing
Tudor Revival architected by Gordon B. Kaufmann and
constructed of Indiana limestone and steel reinforced concrete,
and crowned with a Welsh slate roof. Completed in 1928, the
finished mansion was a vision of epic proportions—46,054
square feet, to be exact, with 55 livable rooms to house Ned,
Lucy and their five children.
This it did while displaying nearly every hallmark of what was
the era's patchy approach to wealth distribution. Consider the
porte-cochere; the soaring ceilings; the sweeping staircases; the
checkered marble floors; the cavernous fireplaces; the mammoth
windows; the rich, hand-carved oak; and the cathedral-sized
murals. Along with these attributes also came the likes of a
servant's wing, library, bowling alley and rooms dedicated to
the recreations of the very rich: billiards, massage, porcelain
collecting, gift-wrapping. The kitchen had a pantry with a wall
safe to secure the family's gold and silver service sets, and for
the children, there was a playhouse. The garage accommodated
nine cars and was ahead of its time with a mechanical lift. The
private telephone system, complete with two switchboards,
also spoke to progress. Such excess put the Dohenys on par
with the other American families whose wealth and one-name
recognition preceded them.
But if Greystone was staggering in its grandeur, its gray
tone prophesized the somber events of 1929, the year of Ned's
untimely death (the circumstances surrounding it a subject of
debate to this day). His widow Lucy, however, recovered quite
nicely. She went on to marry finance man Leigh Battson and
they lived at Greystone until 1954. After selling the majority of
the estate to the Paul Trousdale Company in 1955, the couple
unloaded its remains to Henry Crown, who turned the site into
a prolific film location. Purchased in 1965 by its current steward,
the City of Beverly Hills, the Greystone of today is a historic
landmark and dedicated public park. Ironically, all now enjoy this
estate built for the privileged few.
