Showing posts with label Hoppin and Koen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hoppin and Koen. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

The Percival Kuhne House - 7 East 78th Street





In 1879 banker and railroad tycoon Henry H. Cook purchased the entire block between Fifth and Madison Avenues, from 78th to 79th Street for $500,000 (roughly $13 million in today's money).  The property was undeveloped and it would be nearly two decades before Manhattan's millionaires would make it that far up Fifth Avenue.   The far-sighted Cook knew they would come.  He erected his own gargantuan mansion at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 78th Street.

Because Cook owned the entire block, he was able to choose his neighbors and ensure his property values were secure.  The New-York Tribune explained years later "He has divided the remaining land and sold it parcel by parcel to desirable purchasers who would erect uniformly handsome houses."  Those buyers had no choice in the matter.  Cook wrote restrictive covenants into the deeds which demanded that only private homes in a "splendid style" be erected.  

Among those buyers would be Percival and Lillian Kuhn.  On April 23, 1899 the New York Herald reported "Mr. Percival Kuhne has bought a beautiful dwelling further up town, just out of Fifth avenue, and bounding the Park, which he and Mrs. Kuhne will probably occupy before hot weather sets in."  The reporter got the facts slightly wrong.

The Kuhnes, who lived at No. 32 East 39th Street in a rapidly changing neighborhood, had indeed purchased the property at No. 7 East 78th Street on what had become known as the Cook Block.  But there was no "beautiful dwelling" on the plot; it was a vacant lot.   Three months later, on July 18, the New York Journal and Advertiser set the record straight.  "Percival Kuhn is to build a five-story brick dwelling...costing $25,000 at No. 7 East Seventy-eighth street."

The Kuhns had chosen the firm of Hoppin & Koen to design their 25-foot-wide mansion; quite possibly because Francis L. V. Hoppin was a personal friend of the couple.  The firm would produce for the Kuhnes a refined and stately Beaux Arts style residence.

Tall, exquisite fencing enclosed the areaway, anchored by imposing urn-topped stone posts.  A four-step porch rose to the the arched doorway within the limestone base.  A full-width balcony with elegant iron railings fronted the three sets of French windows at the piano nobile.  Their architrave stone frames were topped by carved pediments; the central example a broken arch that embraced a bulbous cartouche and scrollwork.


A single carved lily adorns each side of the gate posts.

A smaller balcony fronted the grouped center openings of the third floor, beneath a balustraded stone Juliette version at the fourth.  The mostly unadorned fifth floor sat above the projecting limestone bracketed cornice.

Percival Kuhne was born on April 6, 1861 to Frederick and Ellen Miller Kuhne.  His father had co-founded the banking house of Knauth, Nachod & Kuhne.  Percival attended the University of the City of New York, then continued his studies in Germany.  Upon his return in 1884 he entered his father's banking firm.
Percival Kuhne - The Redemption of New York, 1902 (copyright expired)
In 1893 Kuhne married Lillian Middleton Kerr, daughter of Hamilton Kerr, "a descendant of an old and aristocratic English family," as described by Milo T. Bogard in his 1902 The Redemption of New York.  The couple was highly visible in society both in America and Europe.  The Successful American noted "Mr. and Mrs. Kuhne were the only American guests present at the wedding of Princess Helen of Orleans to the Duke d'Aosta, in July, 1895...Besides the Orleans family, all the English royal family except the Queen were present."

The couple had a daughter, Gwendolyn, and the family summered at various fashionable resorts.  While away during the summer of 1900, construction on their mansion was completed.  On October 22 The Evening Telegram noted "Mr. and Mrs. Percival Kuhne, who are now at Lakewood, N.J., will take possession of their new residence at No. 7 East Seventy-eighth street, in about the second week in December."  The timing was perfect--the height of the winter social season.

Except that the house was not totally finished yet.  

So while the painters and decorators put the final details on the interiors, the Kuhnes took a suite at the Savoy hotel.  It turned out to be a costly few weeks stay.  On February 26, 1901 The Morning Telegraph ran a first-page headline "Banker Kuhne Robbed Of A Fortune in Gems."

The article explained "Percival Kuhne, the banker, was despoiled of diamonds worth $150,000, which he kept in his apartments at the Savoy Hotel, on the morning of Feb. 2."  While the Kuhnes were at the theater, burglars had entered their suite and made off with the loot, worth more than $4.5 million by today's calculations.  It was at the time the largest private robbery in police history.  The article noted that Kuhne "is very wealthy and is particularly fond of diamonds."

For two weeks police could find no clues nor suspects.  Photographs of the missing jewelry were distributed to pawn shops and finally a break came.  On the morning of February 25 "Judge" Lewis anxiously stood in line at a pawn shop. The Morning Telegraph described Lewis as "shabbily dressed and seemed very nervous."

When his turn came to approach the clerk, Lewis pulled a bulky package from his pocket.  "The negro opened it nervously and drew out a brooch set with an immense turquoise and covered with fourteen one-half karat diamonds."  Lewis asked $200 for Lillian's stolen pin, valued at $2,500.  The clerk quickly recognized it from the police photographs and stalled Lewis by pretending to negotiate a price.  Meantime, another clerk ran outside to find a policeman.  "McAleenan appeared to be busy examining the stones in the meantime, and Lewis was greatly surprised when a policeman entered the door and placed him under arrest."

It did not take long for investigators to determine that Lewis was an unwitting pawn (or in their words "only a tool").  The real thief appeared to be a bellboy at the Savoy, Morris Orman (whom The Sun felt obligated to say "is also a negro").  He had left his job at the Savoy Hotel shortly after the burglary.

Orman had offered Lewis money to pawn the items and, in fact, was waiting on the sidewalk outside the pawnshop when the police arrived.  He made his escape, leaving Lewis to his fate.  When police went to Orman's apartment, they found it empty and the former bellboy had disappeared.

Shockingly, a newspaper reported that Kuhne admitted "when he and his wife went to the theatre on the night of the robbery they did not lock their door.  All a thief had to do was to enter and help himself." 

Shortly after the Kuhnes moved into their new mansion Lillian's name appeared in unflattering print.  Socialites looking to raise money for charitable causes often threw afternoon bridge parties.  It was a time-tested and enjoyable fund-raising practice.  But in March 1901 the rector of Grace Church embarked on a mission to "put an end to society gambling, at least among men and women who call themselves Christians," as reported in The Chicago Tribune.  

The article noted that one socialite, who preferred to remain anonymous and who would welcome the end of the practice, listed the names of leading society women at a recent party.  Among those "good people" was Lillian Kuhne.

Keeping up with the Kuhnes' movements was nearly a full-time job for society columnists.  On August 24, 1902 the New-York Tribune reported that they had hosted a "gay party" at the Country Club in Narragansett Pier, Rhode Island; and on June 19, 1903 The Evening Telegram announced "Mr. and Mrs. Percival Kuhne, of No. 7 East Seventy-eighth street, will soon leave for Cedarhurst, L. I., where they have taken a cottage for the season."

In the winter season between those trips, entertainments were hosted at No. 7 East 78th Street.  Among them was a dinner party on January 27, 1902.  The guest list included socially recognized names like Livingston, Phipps, Kipp and Phelps, as well as the Kuhnes' friend and architect Francis L. V. Hoppin

On July 1, 1907 The Daily Standard Union, a Brooklyn newspaper, announced that Percival, Gwendolyn, and "Mrs. Kuhn and maid" had sailed for Europe for the summer.  Shortly after their return a disturbing rumor hit the newspapers.  On October 14, 1908 the New York Herald reported "Friends of Mrs. Percival Kuhne...learned yesterday that she had been placed for treatment in a sanitarium at Larchmont.  The Kuhnes' residence at No. 7 East Seventy-eighth street, has been closed and Mr. Kuhne has gone to a hotel to live."

The family issued a denial, saying "The fact is that Mrs. Kuhne and her daughter have been out of the State on a pleasure trip during the past week."  But, in fact, things were dire.   Percival kept the 78th Street house shuttered and brought his wife and daughter to the Plaza Hotel suite.  It was there, on September 30, 1909, that Lillian died.



Kuhne sold No. 7 to the 49-year-old publisher Ormond G. Smith and his wife, the former Grace H. Pellett.  Smith's father, Francis S. Smith, was a co-founder of Street & Smith.  Upon his father's retirement in 1887, Ormond had taken over running the firm, which published inexpensive novels and popular magazines.  Among the impressive list of authors published by Street & Smith were Horatio Alger, Isaac Asimov, Theodore Dreiser, Jack London, Upton Sinclair and O. Henry.

Interestingly, they shared a mutual close friend with the Kuhnes--Francis L. V. Hoppin, whose firm had not only designed the 78th Street house, but Shoremond, the Smiths' country estate in Oyster Bay, Long Island.
The Smiths' Oyster Bay mansion was designed in 1912.  The Architectural Record, December 1916 (copyright expired
The Smiths welcomed a son, Gerald Hewitt Smith, on September 28, 1912.  Grace did not take long to bounce back and reenter the social swirl.  Like Lillian Kuhne, she entertained the top levels of society and the Hoppins were frequent guests.  On November 7, 1912, for instance, The Sun reported "Mrs. Ormand G. Smith gave a dinner last night at her home, 7 East Seventy-eighth street, afterward taking her guests to the Moulin Rouge.  Among them were Mr. and Mrs. Francis L. V. Hoppin, Miss Lola Robinson, Mr. and Mrs. James H. Kidder, E. De Peyster Livingston and Frederick Townsend Martin."

Although the Smiths' summer estate was truly grand, they changed scenery in January 1921 when Anne Vanderbilt, widow of William K. Vanderbilt, sold them Stepping Stones, her Jericho, Long Island estate.  The New York Times reported on January 19 that Smith "is reported to have paid about $500,000 for the property.  Mr. Smith recently sold his country place at Oyster Bay...for about $1,000,000."


The New-York Tribune printed this frustratingly grainy photo of Stepping Stones on January 23, 1921 (copyright expired)
The Times added "Located in the picturesque Wheatley Hills, Stepping Stones is one of the notable places of the section...The house, which occupies the crown of a hill that overlooks the estate, was built by privately prepared plans by John R. Hill, under the personal supervision of the late William K. Vanderbilt."

Grace would enjoy only two seasons at Stepping Stones.  She became ill in the fall of 1922, and died in the 78th Street house on January 13.  The Evening Telegram noted "Her death was unexpected, although she had been ill for some time."  Grace's entire estate, valued at about $1.53 million, was left to her husband.

By the time of Grace's death, Ormond was highly involved in the French Institute in the United States, an organization whose goal was "the diffusion of the knowledge of French culture."  Smith, who was the group's vice president, had been educated in France and held a life-long affection for the country and its way of life.  

When the Duc de Trevise visited New York in December 1925, Ormond hosted a dinner party in the 78th Street house.  Not surprisingly, among the high-ranking guests that evening was Francis L. V. Hoppin.

Ormond's work for the French Institute did not go unnoticed abroad.  In December 1927 he was made an Officer of the Legion of French by decree of the French President.  After rising to president of the institute, in November 1929 Ormond donated a new six-story building to the group at Nos. 22-24 East 60th Street.  

It was just one of many considerable philanthropic gifts.  He donated $40,000 to the construction of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine and $25,000 to the French Hospital, for example.  He was also a vice-president of the New York Eye and Ear Hospital and the New York Free Dispensary.

On the night of April 17, 1933 Ormond Smith suffered a fatal stroke in the 78th Street house.  He was 72-years-old.  Gerald, who was away at Princeton University, received half a million dollars (more in the neighborhood of $9.7 million today), which was held in trust until his 21st birthday.

The young man retained ownership of No. 7 until the fall of 1940 when he sold it "for occupancy."  In reporting the sale The New York Times remarked that it "contains an electric elevator" and noted the upscale tenor of the street.  "It is in the same block as the residences of Mrs. James. B. Duke, John D. Ryan and Winthrop W. Aldrich.  At the corner of Madison Avenue is the home of the late Stuyvesant Fish."



Henry Cook would no doubt have been seriously displeased when the house was converted to apartments in 1946.  It now held two "doctors' apartments and offices" on the first floor, and two apartments per floor above.  The renovations included a horrific sixth floor addition that snubs Hoppin & Koen's regal design.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Phyllis Winchester for suggesting this post

Thursday, April 21, 2016

The Stanley A. Sweet House -- No. 12 East 81st Street





Although architects Arthur M. Thom and James W. Wilson designed some prominent structures—the Centre Street Criminal Courts Building, the impressive Nevada Apartments, and the Harlem Court House among them—they would be most known for their innumerable rows of speculative cookie-cutter rowhouses they cranked out for developers.  Among these was a row of 11 brownstones erected between 1883 and 1884 for developers William and Ambrose Parsons on East 81st Street between Fifth and Madison Avenues.

On May 15, 1884 Max Goldfrank purchased No. 12.  As was customary, the title was put into his wife’s name.  With Max and Bertha Goldfrank in their new home were son Walter and daughter Edna.  The family existed quietly, their names appearing in society pages rarely.  An exception was the announcement of Edna’s engagement to J. A. Strausser on October 30, 1905.

Less than three years later, on March 12, 1908, the funeral of 71-year old Max Goldfrank was held in the house.  Bertha stayed on until 1919 when she sold the 23-foot wide house to Stanley Adams Sweet for $60,000—about $275,000 in 2016.

Sweet was the principal of Sweet, Orr & Co., manufacturers of work clothing.  The company was founded in 1871 by Irish immigrant James A. Orr with his nephews Clayton E. and Clinton W. Sweet to manufacture overalls.  The men renovated an old oilcloth factory in Newburgh, New York into the first factory in American for making overalls.

An early Sweet, Orr & Co. advertisement touts the strength of its overalls (copyright expired)

The company begun by the three men who invested every penny of their meager savings was by now hugely successful and Stanley A. Sweet, son of Clinton W. Sweet, had garnered a substantial fortune.  He was, in addition, a director in the American Hard Rubber Company, the Fulton Trust Company, the Union-Made Garment Manufacturers’ Association and the International Association of Garment Manufacturers.

Sweet was married to the former Grace A. Ingersoll and the couple had two sons, 3-year old Stanley, Jr. and 7-year old Clinton.

But before the family would move in, Sweet engaged architects Hoppin & Koen to transform the outdated brownstone into a modern residence.  Before the decade was out the 81st Street block would see other high-stooped houses re-made into stylish neo-Federal homes.  The Sweet house would be the first of them.

The architectural trend embraced by Hoppin & Koen had begun about two decades earlier.  They replaced the brownstone with a prim colonial-inspired façade of red brick trimmed in limestone.  American basement plans—whereby the entrance is at or slightly below street level—was highly favored at the time and did away with the high stone stoop.  With the projecting stoop gone, the architects were able to pull the façade out to the property line, increasing interior square footage.

The centered entrance sat below a neo-Federal wrought iron balcony.  Elegant French doors, flanked by French windows, opened onto the shallow balcony.  The openings were separated by brick pilasters with stone capitals which upheld a limestone entablature and cornice.  Together, the elegant grouping formed the focal point of the design.  The fifth floor sat back behind a brick parapet, creating a private terrace.

A decorative stone panel is set into the facade and, nearly hidden behind the tree branches, two stone urns are perched on the parapet.

It appears that Grace Sweet and the butler, named Simmons, came to a mutual agreement in 1922.  On May 4 that year he placed an advertisement in the New York Herald seeking work.  “Experienced, well trained Englishman, medium height, neat appearance, 36 years old, would like situation as butler and valet.”  Although Simmons explained he was to be “disengaged May 15,” he was still living in the house and offered “excellent references.”

Before joining his father’s company, Stanley Sweet had studied art in Paris.  Throughout his life he continued painting.  He was a member of the Business Men’s Art Club, a group of professional men whose hobbies were painting and sculpture.

The family received a scare on August 23, 1932 when Grace and the boys were upstate, along Lake Erie.  Their chauffeur was driving east near Westfield, New York, while the automobile driven by Donald McMasters of Akron, Ohio was traveling west.  The Associated Press reported the two cars “came together.”

The collision was no fender bender.  Clinton Sweet suffered a fractured jaw and severe lacerations to the head; Grace broke an arm; and Stanley Jr., now 16, had a broken left leg.  One passenger in the McMasters automobile was taken to the hospital, as well, with cuts.

The socially-prominent position of the Sweet family, as opposed to 19-year old Akron native Myrtle Smith, was evident in the New York Times headline.  “Mrs. S. A. Sweet is Hurt With 2 Sons in Crash,” “Girl Also is Injured.”

In the 1930s, while other moneyed New York families relaxed in fashionable winter resorts like Palm Springs and Miami, the Sweets routinely went to Bermuda.  On March 21, 1937, for instance, newspapers noted that Grace and Stanley, with Stanley Jr., sailed “yesterday to pass some time in Bermuda.”  They would continue the tradition into the 1940s.

In the meantime, Stanley continued painting.  In 1932 he displayed “Tide Water Creek” in the Business Men’s Art Club show; and later his works were exhibited at the Salamagundi Club, the Yale Club and the University Club.  He received prizes for the latter two.

Following Stanley Jr.’s marriage to Barbara McGraw (of the well-known publishing family), Stanley and Grace lived on in the 81st Street house with their domestic staff.   The couple purchased a summer estate in Old Saybrook, Connecticut.  It was there, while playing golf, that the 67-year old Stanley Adams Sweet suffered a fatal heart attack.

Sweet’s estate was valued at over $4.2 million.  Grace stayed on in the 81st Street house for three years, selling it “for cash” in October 1955 to attorney Irving Lent.  Lent would be the first of several owners over the next few decades, including Edward Joy who sold the house for $325,000 to John Vanneck in December 1968.

In 1980 No. 12 was home to Dr. Raul Roa Kourithe, Cuban delegate to the United Nations.  Disaster was luckily avoided on the morning of March 25 that year when Kouri’s bodyguard noticed a black plastic trash bag stuffed under his car parked in front of the mansion at around 10:30.

Suspicious, the bodyguard removed the bag to a trash can and went to call police.  In the few minutes he was gone a sanitation crew emptied the trash can into their truck.  Officers from the Bomb Squad caught up with the truck and found the explosive device, which they successfully defused.

The anti-Castro terrorist group Omega Seven took responsibility for the bomb.  They were already linked to many bombings in the New York and New Jersey area.  An anonymous caller to The Associated Press said “the group intended to keep trying to kill Dr. Roa Kouri.”

In 1999 telecom research analyst Jack Grubman and his wife LuAnn purchased No. 12 for about $6.2 million.  Not long after he was barred for life from the securities industry for inproprieties.  However, as Max Abelson commented in the Observer on October 7, 2008, “But a nice townhouse can cushion the blow of public disgrace.”

The Grubmans listed the mansion in 2008 for a staggering $32 million.  The price tag was apparently too steep even for the posh Upper East Side neighborhood; and two years later the house was sold for $19.6 million.

The dignified house remains a single-family residence after more than 130 years.  

photographs by the author

Thursday, June 5, 2014

The Moncure Robinson Mansion -- No. 16 East 76th Street



With the completion of Central Park the blocks off Fifth Avenue saw rapid development.  In 1881 William Noble began construction on 10 speculative rowhouses stretching from No. 10 through 28 East 76th Street.  Completed a year later they were designed by John G. Prague and were described by The New York Times as “four-story brownstone-front” dwellings.

When M. L. Sire purchased No. 16 with “the similar dwelling 28 East Seventy-sixth Street" in 1897, the three wealthy Robinson siblings were living in their family mansion at No. 23 North Washington Square.  Their father, Edmund Randolph Robinson had died the year before and their mother had died earlier.  The young adults were wealthy, prominent, and on their own. 

After the expected period of mourning, they Robinsons resumed their upscale social lives.  Eleanor hosted a reception for the introduction of her sister, Augusta, into society on December 10, 1898 in the home.  And their attorney brother, Moncure Robinson, would be well-known in the highest social circles.

The Robinson children had not only large personal fortunes, but an outstanding pedigree.  Their mother was the daughter of John Jay and was related to the Chapmans and McVickars.  The Times would later note “The Robinson family is one of the old families of Virginia.”

Their social standing was glaringly obvious on April 4, 1900 when Augusta was married in the parlor of the Washington Square house, given away by her brother.  Among those assembled were Mrs. Stuyvesant Fish, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Jr., the Schieffelin family, the Abraham Hewitts, Mrs. William Morgan and her daughter, the W. Bayard Cuttings and other high-ranking society figures.

A month later Moncure would earn attention at the “artists’ revel” in Boston when he “personated a Doge of Venice.”  Later he and Eleanor took a cottage in fashionable Bar Harbor. 

By the time they returned for the winter season, things had drastically changed in the East 76th Street neighborhood.  The neighborhood had increasingly lured Manhattan’s wealthiest citizens and the addresses of the brownstone residences of a generation earlier were suddenly highly valued.  On September 29, 1901 The New York Times remarked that “The good demand for dwellings of moderate value has continued to be the mainstay of the market…This demand has been principally for houses near Fifth Avenue, north of Fiftieth Street.”  Among the houses sold that week was No. 16 East 76th Street.

The rapidly increasing value of the property was noted by the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide on March 15, 1902.  The house was purchased by the City Real Property Investing Co.  “The house changed hands twice last year; the first time at $60,000, the present sellers paying $67,000.”

Within a few weeks it would be sold again—this time to Moncure Robinson.  The purchase was made public on May 3 and was possibly sparked by Augusta’s impending engagement to Commander Louis Wentworth Packington Chetwynd of the Royal Navy.  As preparations for the wedding in Fifth Avenue’s St. Thomas’s Church were laid out; Moncure set architects Hoppin & Koen to work remodeling the old brownstone uptown into a fashionable, modern mansion.

Augusta’s January 17, 1903 wedding was a star-studded event in terms of society names.  The church was filled with names like Fish, Vanderbilt, Belmont, Harrison, Beekman and Townsend.  But The New York Times was careful to print at the top of the list “Mrs. Astor.”

The following week Moncure was a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Robert J. Collier in the mansion on Gramercy Park.  It was in honor of Mrs. Collier’s grandmother, Caroline Schermerhorn Astor and his inclusion on the guest list of only 16 was a social coup.  But Robinson was eager to begin entertaining on his own in his new house.

The East 76th Street project was finished by now.  Hoppin & Koen had produced a striking five-story neo-Georgian home of red brick with limestone trim.  The entrance in the rusticated stone base was a few steps below the sidewalk; and the architects drew on a variety of 18th century elements to produce the refined and elegant home—fanlights above the second story French doors; radiating stone lintels over the upper openings, and finely detailed dormers behind a stone balustrade.

On February 23, 1903 Moncure Robinson formally opened his new house with a “Colonial dinner.”  It would be the first of many elaborate entertainments in the house.  A week later, on March 1, The New York Times society page gossiped about the young attorney.  Calling him “a member of several of the fashionable clubs,” the newspaper said “He is simply a young man who has a good fortune and who is fond of entertaining.  He has, like so many of the young bachelors of to-day, moved into a house of his own, and he is an excellent host.  In appearance he is quite youthful, and is about thirty years of age.  He is a member of the Knickerbocker, and was graduated from Harvard in 1896.”


The Times called Robinson’s new home “a bijou of a house, which is charmingly furnished, where he will entertain a great deal next Winter.”  The newspaper may have predicted extensive entertainment because it was about time for the wealthy 30-year old to marry.  On May 10 the newspaper hinted at romance.

“Moncure Robinson, who will sail shortly for Europe, has put the finishing touches to his new home in East Seventy-sixth Street.  He has taken such pains in furnishing this house that rumors are again started as to his matrimonial intentions.  Both he and Mrs. Moses Taylor Campbell have denied these reports several times.”  The denials were undeniably true.

By now Robinson had given up Bar Harbor for Tuxedo Park and Newport.  It was in Newport on September 2, 1906 that he was the unwilling party in an episode that enraged Mrs. Stuyvesant Fish.  Mamie Fish invited Moncure along for an automobile ride with her and her daughter, Marion.  As the car cruised along the country road about four miles outside of Newport, chauffeur George Effyeara was pulled over for exceeding the speed limit of 18 miles per hour.

Effyeara insisted he was traveling at 14 miles per hour; but the constable climbed into the limousine and ordered it driven back to Newport.  After a heated exchanged between Mrs. Fish and Judge Franklin, the socialite begrudgingly paid the $23.60 fine.  “Mrs. Fish paid it,” reported The Times, “but she was not in a very pleasant mood, remarking as she paid the money, ‘This is highway robbery.’”

Another well-to-do bachelor who often appeared on the same guest lists with Moncure Robinson was Francis Otis.  Although both men had ample fortunes, The New York Times noted in 1908 that the two would be sharing an apartment in Paris for the summer season.

Back in New York, Moncure’s lavish entertainments were sometimes too large for his 76th Street house to handle.  On these occasions he turned to the St. Regis Hotel.  On December 13, 1911 he hosted a dinner here in honor of Princess di San Faustino and Comtesse De Gontaut-Biron.  “The guests, numbering sixty, were asked for dinner at 8 o’clock, following which specialties and tableaux vivants were given on a miniature stage erected at one end of the marble ballroom,” recounted The Times.  An evening of entertainments included performances by some of the socially-elite guests.

The newspapers routinely reported on Moncure’s entertainments at home and at the St. Regis.  On February 3, 1914 his dinner required the entire second floor of the hotel, “including the marble ballroom,” said The Times the following day.

The following year, in August 1915, Robinson leased the 76th Street house "to a client for occupancy," according to The New York Times.  It became home to Edward N. Breitung and his socially prominent wife.  Breitung was a banker, mining engineer and ship owner.  During the war she had donated an x-ray ambulance to General Pershing and their daughter, Juliet, had been active in war work as well.

Delicate carved panels are set into the brick facade.
In July 1918 Mrs. Breitung arranged “a big athletic carnival” for the Sailors and Marines Club which she founded.  The details of the event were finalized in a meeting in the 76th Street house on July 12 and they included 50-men teams for tug-of-war, running events, tennis, baseball, swmming races and other events.  Professional athletes signed up to appear.

But the Breitungs tended to attract negative attention despite their philanthropic deeds and good intentions.  Juliet eloped with Max F. Kleist, the gardener of the mansion adjoining the Breitung’s country estate in Marquette, Michigan.  “Owing to the prominence of the Breitung family, the marriage and its subsequent developments attracted considerable attention,” said The New York Times later.

The “subsequent developments” were that Juliet soon realized the Kleist had married here only for the money and after she left him, he sued her father for $250,000 “for alienation of affections.”  The suit was eventually dismissed and in December 1918 Juliet became engaged again.  The Times ran the headline “Juliet Breitung to Marry Again” and rehashed the ugly affair, including the Reno divorce.

A year later the household was terrified by a series of letters that arrived threatening to blow up Breitung’s office at No. 11 Pine Street.  Then, on September 6, a letter arrived “containing a threat to blow up his home at 16 East Seventy-sixth street.”  Investigators were able to track down the extortionist, John N. Redmond.  The 38-year old was committed to the psychopathic ward of Bellevue Hospital for observation.  He explained that he believed to have been “defrauded of millions” by the banker.

Mrs. Breitung continued on with her social calendar of dinners and charitable events.  On March 25, 1921 she entertained her guests at dinner in the house, then took them to the opera.  A similar affair two weeks earlier had ended most uncomfortably for the socialite.  Society had been rocked by a series of burglaries during supper and card parties.  In each case it was the expensive belongings of guests that were stolen.

On March 25, 1921 The New York Times reported that Mrs. Charles M. MacNeill, “after attending the opera about two weeks ago…drove in her car to the home of Mrs. Breitung, where there was a supper party.  The next day she missed her [opera] glasses, which were worth $3,000, and telephoned to Mrs. Breitung.  Search was made, but the glasses could not be found, and Mrs. Breitung believed that Mrs. MacNeill had lost them before or after leaving the party.”

But the awkward theft of a guest’s valuable opera glasses was nothing compared to the embarrassing press the Breitung’s got later that year.  On September 7, 1921 the New-York Tribune reported that Edward had been arrested in a raid on a brothel.

Mrs. Nellie Kift, of No. 640 Madison Avenue, was charged “with having let two rooms to women for questionable purposes” and Breitung was arrested for vagrancy.  As the trial neared, Breitung proclaimed his innocence and told reporters “My wife knows all about this case and has absolute confidence in me.  She and my family are sticking by me.”

Testimony by detectives was lurid.  The New-York Tribune reported that Detectives Raihl and Massie said they found “the banker in one of the rooms of her apartment with Edna Clark and Jean Whitney.”  Edward Breitung had an excuse to be at the brothel, however.  He said he “had called at the apartment to discuss a mining project.”

In 1923 Moncure Robinson sold the house.  It was owned by Maurice Goodman on September 29, 1927 when John Packwood Tilden died in his house near by.  Tilden was President of John P. Tilden, Inc., a liability insurance firm, and a proud member of the Society of Mayfower Descendents.  He  had lived with his wife, Mabel Simmons Tilden, at No. 58 East 73rd Street.

Mabel quickly sold the 73rd Street house and purchased the mansion at No. 16 East 76th Street in July 1928.  Like the previous residents of the house, she would lavishly entertain.  Summers were spent at the Briarcliff Lodge and winters were given over to musicales, dinners and receptions.  Society pages routinely reported on her entertainments, as was the case on February 12, 1937 when The Times reported “Mrs. John Packwood Tilden will give another in a series of luncheons today at her home, 16 East Seventy-sixth Street, for Mrs. Robert A. C. Smith.”

The following month, just before Mabel left for the Briarwood, she received a most unexpected delivery.  “A healthy seven-pound baby girl only six hours old was found abandoned at 10 o’clock last night wrapped in a brown blanket and sheltered in an opened black suitcase on the doorstep of the townhouse of Mrs. John P. Tilden,” reported The New York Times on March 28.  The little girl was discovered by a private patrolman, Horace Victor, and was in good health despite her exposure to the March air.

If the infant’s mother thought that, perhaps, Mrs. Tilden would take the baby in, she was mistaken.  “Later she was taken to the New York Foundling Hospital.”

Mabel Simmons Tilden’s routine of Summers at Briarcliff Lodge and winters on East 76th Street would continue into the 1950s.  The house became home to Calvin Klein in 1988.  Having paid $6.8 million for it; the fashion designer sold the 10,000 square foot mansion to the Italian Government for just $4.8 million in1991 during a depressed real estate market.  The house was purchased as the home to the Italian Consul General.

The handsome residence has survived as a private home for over 130 years.  Little has changed since its remarkable makeover in 1903 when the it became the renovated bachelor pad of the socially-visible Moncure Robinson.

photographs by the author