The thinnest building in Cambridge, stands just a few blocks north of the Law School and measures only one and a half feet in width.

But it is a facade, literally all that is left of the 153 year old Francis. Allyn House, and it is now the center of a controversy involving the City Council, the Historical Commission, a real estate developer and local residents. The June demolition of the 1564 Massachusetts Ave. structure, which was supposed to have been protected by the city's landmark ordinance, has brought about a wave of law suits and serious doubts about the ability of the city to safeguard its historic sites.

A host of often conflicting interests is involved. For the property's owner and developer, the case has meant three years worth of frustrating attempts to conform to city regulations in the hope of putting up a $2 million condominium complex. Nearby residents have complained of yet another construction project in the lucrative North Cambridge market and decried the near-total demolition of a local landmark. The city building inspector has condemned the facade as unsafe because it does not meet the wind pressure tolerance mandated by the building code. And at least three city councilors are concerned that the developer has ignored the landmark ordinance they passed in 1981.

Those with the most at stake, however, may be the seven members of the Historical Commission, whose ability to achieve its foremost task--the preservation of land-marks--has been called into question. After placing a two-year moratorium on construction at the historic site, in keeping with the provisions of the landmark ordinance, the commission reconsidered is decision on October 4. But still confused about the legality of the demolition and faced with a State Building Code Appeals Board ruling in favor of the developer, commissioners postponed a decision until a meeting yesterday.

Between the two meetings, attorneys for each side spent hours negotiating. The owner, Stephen A. Bell, and developer, Conal C. Doyle '66, wanted a solution which would speed construction of the condominiums. Douglas A. Randall, attorney for the Rent Control Board, the building inspector and the Historical Commission, wanted to save face for his clients and do what was best for the city as a whole. The contradiction in goals was too much; the commission upheld its earlier decision, and the facade faces almost certain demolition today.

Neighbors and city officials were surprised at the extent to which the Greek Revival house was demolished. Doyle says he expected some public backlash but, in drawing up plans for the three proposed luxury townhouses, he "tried to combine economic feasibility while preserving as much of the original building as possible."

But the one point which virtually every other party seems to agree on is that what remains of the original structure has little historical significance. "What's standing there has no historical value," says the Historical Commission's Executive Director Charles M. Sullivan, in a tone equally reflective of sadness and anger.

Sullivan talks at length about the historical significance of the demolished building. Built in 1831 by famous New England architect Oliver Hastings, the house also had two famous residents. Harvard's Parkin Professor of Pulpit Eloquence Converse Francis lived there in the 1840's, and Boston publishing magnate John Allyn occupied the then-mansion in the 1880's. The Francis-Allyn House, characteristic of the Greek Revival architecture sweeping New England after the rediscovery of the Acropolis, featured an elaborate portico entrance in its heyday.

A vestige of the days when expansive single-family dwellings stood along the exclusive stretch of Massachusetts Avenue--known then simply as North Avenue--the house fell into disrepair in the mid-1900's. Before its owner applied for a demolition permit (requiring removal from rent control) in January of 1981, the structure was home for five low-and moderate income tenants.

But the North Cambridge area, extending from just north of the Cambridge Common up to Porter Square, has been changing in the past few years. As one resident, who favors Doyle's proposed townhouses over other projects, remarks, this threatens to make this stretch of Massachusetts Avenue into "Highrise Avenue." Two highrise condominiums have gone up within feet of the Francis Allyn site--in the past two years. The lucrative development potential of the popular neighborhood along with Cambridge's notoriously tight rental market has heightened the commission's dilemma.

To complicate matters, the commission risks losing credibility if it allows Doyle and company to build as planned after the two-year expiration. The case, therefore, threatens the 23-year old commission's veryraison d'etre.

By choosing to order the complete demolition and apply the moratorium, "[developers] would have an incentive to demolish historic landmarks," warns Sullivan.

One very involved party, who asked not to be identified by name, drew a Biblical analogy to the situation. "It's like asking King Solomon what to do with two half babies. Lake half a baby, what's left of the front of the house is not an historical structure."

What's Next

Yet neighbors and city officials alike realize that something will eventually be built on the property. The immediate question is who, or which city agency if any, should decide who builds and what they build at 1564 Massachusetts Avenue.