FARMS & ESTATES
     

President James Madison and the Marquis de Lafayette slept at Belmont. Now Walter Music is in charge of turning it into the "heart and soul" of a mixed-use development in Loudoun County.

Photo by Mark Rhodes

But Belmont is the real thing -- a manor house and estate so old it began as a grant from the British royal government. By the time the Civil War broke out, the mansion had been around more than 60 years. President James Madison slept there, they say, taking shelter after the British siege of Washington during the War of 1812. Another guest was the Marquis de Lafayette, the revolutionary war hero whose aide built the Federal-style manor. President Hoover's secretary of war and the exiled Philippine government both called Belmont home.

Toll Brothers, a home builder based in Huntingdon Valley, Pa., liked the property independent of its historic value, says Music, the vice president in charge of the development. But the company is counting on the 8,500-square-foot manor to help sell the development's 1,900 homes, 2 million square feet of office space and some 225,000 square feet of retail. "The manor house is going to be the heart and soul," Music says. "We're going to renovate it, bring it back to life."

Toll Brothers has never undertaken a renovation this extensive before, Music says, but the developer is in good company in Virginia. Many corporations and investors have chosen historic sites to add character and allure to their developments, headquarters and retail locations.

They do so despite the cost and complications that accompany historic designation. Toll Brothers did not calculate how much the historic manor added to the project's cost, Music says, but the amount is sure to exceed the tax credit available for restoring a registered historic landmark.

Much of the challenge came from the manor's relatively small size. Though a spacious home, Belmont is hardly big enough to serve as a modern clubhouse for 1,900 homes. Using Died-rich/NBA as architects and Quinn Evans Architects as the historic consultant, Toll Brothers designed a 29,000-square-foot addition that "hides" behind the much smaller mansion.

The modern construction will house a kitchen, locker rooms and other utilitarian space. The manor home areas will be used mainly for dining and meeting rooms. Taking the advice of Virginia's Department of Historic Resources, Toll Brothers decided the addition would be made of stucco, a material that reflects the style of the era but won't compete for attention with the fine, brick Federal architecture of Belmont Manor.

"Having a historical site that people recognize has got a marketing benefit," Music says. "But, in addition, we're taking this seriously because we should. It's an obligation. We're taking on a responsibility." Toll Brothers hopes to open the clubhouse in the summer of 2000.

* * *

When Claiborne Thomasson set eyes on Bellgrade, he saw it for what it was: a building in "total disrepair." The outside had been refurbished, but inside there was no disguising the damage to the home, which was originally built as a farmhouse in 1732. He saw holes in the walls, gaps in the staircases and broken glass where much of the wavy, period panes originally hung. Each of the six fireplaces would need new flues to pass safety inspections.

Thomasson, who had already signed a letter of intent to buy another Richmond area location, was appalled at the amount of money it would take to restore the building. He was also in love. "There was a magic about this building," he says. "In my heart, it had a feeling of what Richmonders love, and that was the past." A former bank executive, Thomasson had set out to open a branch of Ruth's Chris Steak House. The upscale eatery needed a location that would convey luxury to match the average meal price of $50 per person. Thomasson couldn't shake the feeling that Bellgrade looked just as his restaurant should -- from the outside, at least.

What's more, the house had a romantic and deadly history. In 1840, long after it was built and remodeled, Bellgrade was bought by a 43-year-old bachelor named Robiou. He married a 14-year-old bride, only to catch her "in a compromising situation" in Bellgrade a few weeks later with a teen-age boyfriend, according to the company's account. Robiou tossed out his young wife, but her father recruited the boyfriend to avenge his daughter. The husband was murdered, the father was hanged, and the young bride died shortly afterward in an accident on the manor stairs. "The ghost," says Thomasson, "is supposedly still residing in the home."

So far, the only thing that has haunted Thomasson has been the cost of renovating the old house, which he leases from Richmond-based Woolfolk Properties. Thomasson wound up spending $800,000 more than the landlord put into the building, he says, and he added 9,000 square feet. Despite the costs, he says his romantic leap of faith "was the difference between failure and a home run" for his steak house. Executives at Ruth's Chris had their doubts about the cost of Bellgrade and its outlying location, Thomasson says, but it now ranks among the top half of the chain's revenue producers. Sales rose from $1.2 million in 1992 to more than $4 million last year, he says.

"I don't believe it would have succeeded in another location," he says. "This was something very new to Richmond. This was a very upscale restaurant with a very high check average, compared to what was already here."

* * *

Two years ago, the Baan Co. found the perfect spot for its U.S. headquarters and educational institute -- 281 acres of woods and farmland on the Potomac River near Washington Dulles International Airport. For the Dutch software firm, the first priority was to restore Janelia Farm's manor and garage, both listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and its gardens.

If all had gone well, 1,000 employees and students would have been strolling the grounds by the middle of this year. But Baan's revenues plummeted, and the company's stock fell from a 52-week high of $55.50 to $9.50. The software giant jettisoned its expensive headquarters plans, as well as dozens of offices and more than 1,200 employees.

But for Janelia Farm, a property local economic development officials call "one of the most unique and aesthetically beautiful parcels of real estate in Loudoun County," the story was not over. The land on Route 7 near Leesburg has been repackaged as Janelia Farm Executive Park, catering to Loudoun County's growing high-tech and higher education tenants. The Baan investor that owned Janelia -- Vanenburg Ventures -- is developing the land through a subsidiary it renamed Janelia Farm Real Estate LLC.

The strong real estate market convinced Vanenburg Ventures to develop rather than sell the land, says Albert Jacob at EDSA in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., the land-planner managing the project. "It was a deliberate business decision," he says. And even after developing it, the company has no plans to sell.

The decision pleased public officials, who had worried that Baan's misfortunes threatened a high-quality restoration and development. "Of course, we're sorry that Baan isn't going to move in," says Renee Brohard, public relations manager for the county's Department of Economic Development, "but we're thrilled that they're going to continue the development of the site so that it will be even more marketable."

Priorities have changed now that Janelia Farm is looking for tenants. The half-finished manor house renovation is on hold, while four-color sales booklets show the layout of three future office buildings -- "Janelia Farm, Where History and Technology Meet."

Ultimately, the park could offer 2.5 million square feet of office space, says John McEvilly, a principal at Millennium Realty Advisors LLC, the McLean firm handling Janelia's leasing. The three new buildings in the development's first phase will be limited to three stories. Their brick-and-glass design with sloping roofs will echo the manor home, a Normandy-style, 15,000-square-foot home built in 1935 by the Pickens family and named for their daughters, Jane and Cornelia.

The asking price for the new office space is $21 per square foot, or $28 for full-service leasing. Those are top-of-the-market rates for Loudoun County, McEvilly says, but a bargain compared with western Fairfax County. McEvilly says interest is strong, and he expects the project to lease quickly. "It's not a distress sale at all," he says. "The people who own it have deep pockets."

* * *

Even on the busiest day, the waterfowl at Upper Brandon Plantation outnumber the people, sometimes by more than a thousand to one. "The sky will turn black with ducks," says director Bobby Swineford. The plantation's core flock of Canada geese numbers 8,000. A formula of planting and flooding the plantation's 10 ponds brings the birds back year after year.

The James River setting attracts human guests, too, but these usually number one or two dozen, 40 at the most -- a number kept deliberately low by Upper Brandon's limited sleeping space and small staff. The plantation is in Prince George County between Richmond and Hampton Roads. It is a working farm, a duck-hunting preserve and conference center.

The tranquil environment is ideal for managers who want peace and quiet for seminars and skull sessions, Swineford says. "When they come here, they have all of Upper Brandon to themselves," he says. "The charm of it is they can come have a private retreat, a good place when you have sensitive issues to talk about or conflicts within an organization." The price for peace and quiet is $190 to $275 a night, which includes full run of the plantation's manor house, which was built in 1825. Target shooting is extra. Swineford says guests frequently jog and bicycle, and even hold tea parties, at the plantation.

The center's 1,176 square feet of conference space is all business, however, with slide projectors, fax machines and other standard equipment of the business world. "This is not a playground," Swineford says. "There's some serious work that takes place here."

Upper Brandon has not always been open to outsiders, and it retains the sheltered atmosphere of a private estate. Swineford protects the identities of the owners, for example, and the company's brochure avoids naming even the plantation's previous owner, James River Corp. The company put conservation easements on the land, gaining a one-time tax break and ensuring Upper Brandon would never be developed. For years, the company also invited only nonprofits to use the retreat. James River sold Upper Brandon in 1998, after merging with Fort Howard Corp. and moving the company's headquarters from Richmond to Chicago.

Of the investors who now own Upper Brandon, Swineford says, "I think the best way to put it is, they bought this place in order to duck hunt." He adds, "They're private. They don't want their names spread around."

Nevertheless, the quiet retreat that once disdained corporate clients may be ready for a higher profile. Since it changed hands, the plantation has started marketing itself, attracting groups mainly from nearby Richmond and Williamsburg, but also from as far as Washington, D.C., and Baltimore.

The new owners plan to improve the two, nine-bedroom lodges. But they have not decided whether to expand the facilities so Upper Brandon can host larger groups. "A lot of times, if you go out and change something, bigger is not necessarily better," Swineford says. "You're losing some of the charm of what you've got."

* * *

When the world's largest insurance company went shopping for a piece of the American dream, it landed at Berry Hill, a plantation in Halifax County near the North Carolina border.

AXA, the Paris-based firm that holds a majority stake in The Equitable Cos., had already bought and renovated two French chateaux, both for management-training centers. Executives wanted the third campus of "AXA University" to send a message about the importance of the growing North American market.

"We decided that we would not just put this training center in any old building. We would look for something very special and very specifically American," says Richard Nicol, director of AXA Berry Hill Inc.

With help from The Equitable's former CEO, AXA found Berry Hill, whose 1840s Greek Revival mansion was originally built for tobacco planter James Coles Bruce. The neglected building was one of the finest examples of Southern history available. "Nowhere else, perhaps, is the Antebellum plantation to be found in equal architectural magnificence," architectural historian Fiske Kimball has said of Berry Hill.

AXA found Berry Hill in March 1997. More than two years and $25 million later, the company is almost ready to send its first managers to AXA Berry Hill, which includes new classrooms and an 88-room hotel.

The project has been a model of cooperation between a corporation and the Virginia Department of Historic Resources. All the new construction has been tucked downhill or behind the mansion to maintain the view. The house itself was spared drastic changes and will be used mostly for social gatherings. Even the bricks were matched to the old mansion, and the furniture suits the era during which the home was built.

"They're doing a very good job," says Calder Loth, senior architectural historian for the Department of Historic Resources. The renovation has been expensive and extensive. The mansion lacked most modern creature comforts -- it even lacked air-conditioning -- and all the work had to be accomplished without ruining the existing materials.

"We're one of the few companies that has, I suppose, built conference centers in historic buildings before," Nicol says. "We like doing them in older buildings and adding a historic element."

* * *

From Berry Hill to Belmont, there may be a lesson for other investors in the way companies are reviving Virginia's historic farms and estates.

They might stumble on the chance to buy a bit of history, as Toll Brothers did, or they may seek it out, as AXA did. Either way, they are sure to find themselves involved in something bigger than the typical project.

Claiborne Thomasson, the banker turned restaurateur, didn't set out to put his franchise in an 18th century farmhouse. Now not only can he recite a bit of Virginia history, but he understands the wisdom of transporting his guests back to the 1800s. Even on the mildest day, for example, he sets the air conditioner low at Ruth's Chris Steak House in Richmond. That way, the restaurant can run all six of the original fireplaces, welcoming visitors to a living room as they might have seen it 150 years ago. "If you turn the fireplace off," he says, "it takes the heart right out of the room."

© JUNE 1999, Media General Business Publications Inc.,
publisher of Virginia Business Magazine