Showing posts with label j. p. morgan jr.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label j. p. morgan jr.. Show all posts

Monday, April 28, 2014

The Lost Geo. B. Torrey House--No. 27 East 35th Street

In 1946 the house-studio sits between the Church of the Incarnation (left) and a surviving carriage house.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York   http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWNFLZSJ&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Encroaching commerce forced Manhattan’s wealthiest citizens to leave the exclusive Bond Street and St. James Park neighborhoods in the years before the Civil War.  The Murray Hill neighborhood saw the construction of commodious mansions in the 1850s, followed closely behind by the grand homes of Fifth Avenue.  By the last decades of the century the block of East 35th Street block between Park and Madison Avenues was lined with the private carriage houses of the nearby homeowners.

Snuggling up to the rear of the Church of the Incarnation at No. 27 East 35th Street was the two-story carriage house of Julia Elizabeth Brown.  The wealthy widow died on May 11, 1898 leaving an estate of $704,000—a jaw-dropping $19 million today.  On November 19 that year the private stable was sold to Prescott Hall Butler whose family had recently moved from No. 34 East 37th Street to No. 22 Park Avenue at the corner of 35th Street.

The esteemed lawyer was a partner with Joseph Coate in the “white shoe” law firm of Evarts, Choate & Beaman.  A graduate of Harvard College, he had married Cornelia Stewart Smith and the couple had two sons and a daughter.  The family summered in their country home in Bytharbour, St. James, Long Island.  A member of at least a dozen exclusive clubs, including three yacht clubs, Butler was a devoted patron of the American Museum of Natural History.

It was perhaps the theft of Mrs. Butler’s expensive jewelry a few years earlier that prompted Butler to have potential household staff apply to the stable building rather than the mansion itself.  On May 26, 1900 an advertisement appeared in the New-York Tribune for a butler “first-class; English; three years in last place.”  The following year Cornelia Butler was looking for a new maid.  “Lady’s Maid.  English; competent in all her duties; good hairdresser, dressmaker and packer, best city references.”  Both advertisements directed applicants to apply at the carriage house.

Six months after Cornelia’s ad for a maid was published Prescott Hall Butler died on December 16 in the Park Avenue house “from a complication of diseases.”  He was just 53 years old.

The carriage house was sold on May 31, 1902 to the City Real Property Investing Co.  Already horse-drawn vehicles were being nudged out by automobiles and the firm leased the building to the Murray Hill Auto Station.  A year later The Horseless Age reported that “The Victor Auto Storage Company has bought out the Murray Hill Auto Station…and will conduct it under the same name.”

An owner offered a substantial discount on his custom-made electric coach in 1904 -- The Sun, January 31, 1904 (copyright expired)
While the Victor Auto Storage Company was garaging automobiles in the former carriage house, portrait artist George Burroughs Torrey was in Greece where King George I of Greece sat for his portrait.  When Torrey returned to New York on October 9, 1903, he brought along sketches of the Queen for a portrait “which he will begin in his studio here and go abroad later to complete from personal sittings,” reported The Evening World.

Torrey, a cousin of William Howard Taft, soon turned his attention to finding a more suitable studio.  On March 20, 1904 The New York Times reported that the artist had purchased No. 27 East 35th Street, saying he “will convert the building into a studio.”

If merely converting the stable building into a studio was Torrey’s original intention, his plans soon expanded.  No. 27 was transformed into a four-story neo-Georgian red brick mansion of handsome proportions and dignified reserve.  Inside were the “Pompeian Hall,” a Louis XV room, a picture gallery, a commodious dining room for entertaining, and, of course, Torrey’s studio.

As the building was being renovated the artist and his wife, the former Almira Howes, went back to Greece.  On their return trip on the Kaiser Torrey told reporters that “American art is being appreciated abroad more and more.”  The King, who was obviously pleased with the paintings, decorated Torrey with the Order of the Savior.  Once home, Torrey traveled to Washington D.C. where President Theodore Roosevelt sat for five two-hour sittings in the Blue Room of the White House.  The completed portrait was exhibited at the Republican and Hardware clubs in 1905. 

While other New York City artists were busy painting socialites and millionaires; Torrey became famous for his portraits of heads of states and high-profile politicians.  Following his pictures of the King and Queen of Greece and President Roosevelt came the life-sized portrait of Secretary of the Navy Paul Morton, completed in 1906.  As he started his portrait of President-Elect William H. Taft in December 1908 The New York Times remarked “He has painted portraits of Sir Purdon Clarkes, Gen. Horace Porter, and many other prominent men.”

Taft’s first sitting in the 35th Street studio was on December 14, 1908 and the newspaper noted “”Mr. Torrey will require some more sittings, which will be given by Mr. Taft on subsequent visits to this city.”

Mrs. Taft deemed the portrait of her husband "excellent."  collection of the Library o Congress

A week later the house was the scene of a large dinner followed by “a vaudeville entertainment and supper.”  On December 20 80 guests, including opera stars Madame Farrar, Signor Scotti and Enrico Caruso, sat down to dinner in the picture gallery and adjoining dining room.  The Times noted that Mrs. Torrey received in the Louis XV room which “was brightened with palms and cut flowers.”  In the dining room, “Over each table, from tall antique vases, drooped clusters of American Beauty roses which covered the guests in the manner of an umbrella or parasol.”

A total of 200 guests were present for the vaudeville entertainment in Torrey’s studio.  A stage had been constructed for the 15 acts including minstrels, clog dancing, and recitations.  According to the newspaper the studio was decorated “with Christmas holly, poinsettia, azaleas, and green, and arranged after the order of a French cafĂ© chantant.”

Afterward supper was served as The Hungarian Orchestra played from a balcony over the stage.  The Torreys’ diplomatic guest list included European titles (like Sir Caspar Purdon Clarke and Lady Clarke), Manhattan millionaires (such as Mr. and Mrs. Isaac D. Fletcher), a Supreme Court justice and his wife, at least one General, and actress Billie Burke.

On February 27, 1909 the portrait of President Taft was nearly completed.  It now needed only the approval of the President, Republican State Committee Chairman Woodruff (who had commissioned the painting), and most of all, Mrs. Taft.  The trio arrived at the 35th Street house that morning.  The New-York Tribune reported “Mr. Taft and Mr. Woodruff pronounced the painting satisfactory, and then awaited the judgment of Mrs. Taft.  She looked at it several minutes from various angles before making any remark.  Then she said she regarded it as excellent, and that she was much pleased with it.”

No doubt breathing a heavy sign of relief, Torrey told reporters that following the inauguration he would travel to Washington “to put on the finishing touches.”

On April 23, 1913 Almira was granted a divorce from George Burroughs Torrey.  In reporting it, the Honolulu Star-Bulletin said he “is one of the best known portrait painters in the United States.  Mrs. Torrey has resumed her maiden name and is receiving $5000 a year alimony.”  By now his portraits were hanging in Buckingham Palace and the South Kensington Museum in London.

The following year an “apartment” in the house was rented to William A. Gramer, a City Hall reporter for the New York World.  Following his death in 1920, the apartment became home to Mrs. Rose Moore Strong, also known as Baroness Posse.  She held a series of salons in the house in 1926 for the Society of American Arts and Letters.  The New York Times reported on March 20 “Although planned primarily as social functions the salons are intended also as national meeting places for American artists in all fields of endeavor.”  The society’s goal was to discover and develop unknown American artists “who would  otherwise find it difficult to obtain the aid and encouragement needed to achieve success.”  Rose Moore Strong was still active in 1930 when she hosted poetry readings in the apartment.

Later that year J. P. Morgan purchased the Torrey house.  He made a practice of actively buying up homes in his Murray Hill neighborhood in an effort to keep it residential.  Only months before he had purchased the Clarence L. Hay residence at No. 32 East 37th Street.  Interestingly, George Burroughs Torrey and his second wife, Hawaiian artist Lillie Hart Gay, stayed on in the house, apparently as renters.  On March 23, 1932 it was the scene of the wedding of his niece Kathryn Elston Moore to John Rathbone Ruggles.  The Times reported that “the ceremony will take place in the picture gallery of the residence and a small reception and buffet supper will follow in the studio.”


By 1938 the Torreys had moved on and J. P. Morgan’s firm rented the house to Mary Gibbons.  The handsome structure would survive another 17 years before being demolished with other buildings on the block east of the church.  In 1955 construction began on architect H. I. Feldman’s sprawling mid-century apartment building, completed a year later.

The Torrey house abutted the eastern edge of the church.  photo by the author

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

The Geo. Nichols House -- No. 108 E. 37th Street

photo by Alice Lum


At the 19th century dawned, the sprawling country estates of Manhattan were doomed.  The relentless northward expansion of the city spurred the 1811 Commissioners’ Plan which laid out the regimented grid of streets and avenues.  One by one the farms and estates were developed with houses, stores and churches.

What had been the country estate of Robert and Mary Murray held out until 1847 when their descendants created the Murray Hill Restrictive Agreement.  It ensured that development of the land would be limited to upscale brick or stone residences, churches and private stables.

Among the homes built in the Murray Hill area was the rowhouse at No. 108 East 37th Street erected for Jacob Voorhies, Jr. around 1866.  Voorhies was a “grader” of roadways and with the rapid development of Manhattan at the time of the Civil War, he was not only a busy man; he became a very wealthy one.  As a matter of fact, it was Voorhies himself who had graded the roads in the neighborhood.  In 1863 he petitioned the City Council “for extension of time to complete the grading of Twelfth-avenue from Thirty-seventh-street to Forty-second-street.”

Like the other homes on the block, the Voorhies home was four stories high over an English basement.  A broad brownstone stoop rose from the sidewalk.  The new, fashionable neighborhood was populated by some of the most respected names in Manhattan society.  Voorhies was well-known in yachting circles.  He was a member of the Brooklyn and the New York Yacht Clubs and owned “the celebrated Madeleine and other fast yachts,” according to The New York Times.

With the opening of the summer season of 1871, the Newport community was intrigued by the addition of the “Cliff Cottages”—an experiment in luxurious rental properties.  The New York Times said “These are nine in number, a little south of the bathing beach; adjoining is a hotel for the exclusive accommodation of those occupying the cottages.  The grounds are tastefully laid out, each family having separate grounds and flower-beds, and which are kept in order by the association.  Stables are provided also, with servants’ apartments at the hotel.  Surely it is a novel idea.”

Among the wealthy families to take one of the cottages that first season were Jacob Voorhies and his wife.  Their neighbors that summer included Livingstons, Lawrences, Stokes and equally moneyed families from Providence, Hartford and Philadelphia.

On the night of November 29, 1871 the jewels of New York’s wealthiest socialites glistened in the glow of the Academy of Music’s chandeliers as a grand ball was held in honor of the visiting grand Duke Alexis of Russia.  Leslie’s Illustrated Paper reported “At nine-o’clock, the guests began to arrive, and during the next hour carriages were continually driving up in front of the Academy.  At ten o’clock the interior of the building presented one of the most magnificent scenes that has ever been witnessed in the city.  The brilliantly illuminated decorations and elegantly dressed ladies combined to entrance and bewilder the spectator.”

The elaborate decorations were evidenced by the Grand Duke’s table.  “The table was tastefully arranged with a profusion of choice and natural flowers.  The ornamental confectionery and other designs on the table included two temples of the Czar Alexander; two monuments of Washington, with cupids and American flags on top; two imperior meringues, with American eagles and flags of both nations, and two ships of war, made of nougat and spun sugar.”

Jacob Voorhies and his wife were there that night, rubbing shoulders with the cream of New York society, including Caroline Astor, several Roosevelts, Livingstons, Schermerhorns, nine Morgans and no fewer than six Vanderbilts.

In January 1878 Jacob Voorhies, Jr. died in the house on East 37th Street.  It became home to Edward R. Carpentier, whose name was often spelled “Carpenter” in newspapers.  He died in the house on Sunday evening, June 10, 1883 at the age of 62.  Carpentier’s brother, Horace Walpole Carpentier, moved from California to New York and took up residency in No. 108 East 37th Street.

The colorful Horace W. Carpentier, had traveled to California during the Gold Rush.  He was a “Major General” of the California State Militia, became Oakland’s first mayor (he was ousted by angry citizens when it was discovered he had finagled complete control of the waterfront for his own profit), and was president of the California State Telegraph Company and the Overland Telegraph Company.  It was Carpentier who sent the first transcontinental telegraph message—addressed to President Abraham Lincoln.

Now in New York, Carpentier shared the 37th Street house with his young cousin and ward, Maud Alice Burke.  The attention of the press would be focused on the household when Prince Andre Poniatowski of Poland arrived in New York in 1892 and showed interest in young Maud.  The Prince’s brother, Prince Charles, had married Maud Ely Goddard of New York a decade earlier, and it appeared this prince was following his lead.

Although Prince Andre insisted to reporters that “he did not come to America to seek a rich wife and that he refrained from talking to rich girls,” he quickly proposed to Maud Burke in February 1893.  Maud accepted and The Evening World commented that “Prince Poniatowski came rather prominently before the public through his announcement.”

Royal titles did not impress Horace Carpentier, however, and he vehemently opposed the engagement.  Maud was no match for her guardian and The Evening World said “After many varying reports that the engagement was off, then that it was renewed, it was finally authoritatively declared to be broken, and Miss Burke returned to California.”

Maud may have realized that her guardian was correct in his assessment of the prince when, just a few months later newspapers reported “It is authoritatively announced that Prince Andre Poniatowski, of Poland, the former fiance of Maud Alice Burke, will marry Miss Sperry, daughter of the Stockton (Cal.) millionaire.  Miss Sperry’s father owns the Stockton Flour Mills and controls the California flour trade.”

In the end, Horace Carpentier got his way and Maud Alice Burke got her title.  At 4:00 in the afternoon of April 17, 1895 she married Sir Bache Cunard in the house on 37th Street.  The groom’s family was “largely interested in the Cunard Steamship Line” and by marrying a baronet, Maud became Lady Cunard.

Horace, at the time, was not well and on April 18 The New York Times mentioned that “When the engagement of the couple was announced about a week ago, it was understood that the wedding would take place in June.  Only two days ago, it is said, was it decided to hasten the wedding.  The wedding was a very quiet one, owing to the illness of Mr. Carpenter [sic].”

The newlyweds sailed off to England on the steamship Lucania, leaving Horace alone in the house until his aged niece, Maria Hall Williamson moved in.  Maria, who was the widow of General James A. Williamson, was ten years younger than her uncle.  She died in the house at the age of 80 in January 1916.

Two years later, on January 5, 1918, the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported that “General Horace W. Carpentier, who donated a chair of Chinese language and literature at Columbia University about sixteen years ago, plans to give his fine dwelling at 108 East 37th street to Barnard College, when he dies.”  Carpentier’s donation gave him use of the house until his death; and, oddly enough, “It is also stipulated that for six years after his death, it will continue in possession of one he will name at some future time.”

If newspapers thought that the pre-mortum bequeath meant that Carpentier’s health was failing, he vociferously denied it.  Two weeks after the announcement, The Sun reported “Gen. Horace M. Charpentier [sic], hale and hearty in his ninety-third year, was walking blithely about his home at 108 East Thirty-seventh street, expressing a militant opinion concerning newspapers that insisted upon visiting him with serious illness.  The General said his health was bully and that, after all, there was a touch of kindness in the references to his illness that gave to the error some mitigation.”

Despite his protests, Carpentier died in the house on January 31.  The strong-minded millionaire donated the bulk of his estate to colleges and universities and generally ignored family.  Saying that “in my well-considered opinion, I have heretofore been fairly liberal in their direction,” he explained that the fact that he did not give his next of kin more than $2,000 was “not through oversight or failure of memory.”

Most surprising was his ignoring Maud in the will.  She had broken her engagement to the Polish prince under threat of being disinherited.  Now, apparently, Carpentier felt she was faring well enough without his money.

Before the year was up, the house was purchased by J. P. Morgan, who lived nearby at the corner of 37th Street and Madison Avenue.  The Sun reported on December 24, 1918 that Morgan purchased the house “to preserve the residential character of the section.”  Perhaps the best way to ensure that the character of the neighborhood was preserved would be to move his newly-married daughter into the house.

Jane N. Morgan was married to George Nichols on November 14, 1917.  Nichols was a partner in Minot, Hooper & Co., cotton goods dealers.  A clubman and yachtsman, he owned the yacht The Edythe and held memberships in several of the city’s exclusive clubs.

The title to No. 108 East 37th Street was transferred to Jane and in 1921 architect Charles A. Platt was commissioned to make over the outdated Victorian.  For two decades wealthy Murray Hill homeowners had been updating their expensive properties by stripping off the brownstone facades and recreating up-to-date homes.  No. 108 would soon join them.

Platt removed the stoop and moved the entrance to sidewalk level.  The old brownstone front was replaced by a neo-Federal façade of red brick and white stone trim.  The reserved, formal design featured splayed lintels, handsome paneled double doors below a leaded transom, and Flemish bond brickwork.  The renovations were completed, according to The New York Times, in 1922.
photo by Alice Lum
Five years later George Nichols brought Platt back to add an addition on the roof.  The family would stay in the house for three decades; during which time the newspapers followed George’s yachting activities, the daughters’ engagements and marriages, and the comings and goings from Newport and Long Island summer homes.  Then, on December 10, 1950, The New York Times reported that Jane had sold the house to the Murray Hill Management Corporation.

The new owner wasted no time in announcing its plans to convert the house “into luxury apartments.”  Completed in 1951, the conversion resulted in two apartments per floor and a doctor’s office on ground level.  Another renovation in 1987 left the doctor’s office intact; but resulted in two duplexes—on the second to third and sixth to penthouse floors—a single apartment on the fifth and two apartments on the fourth floor.

photo by Alice Lum
Charles Platt’s proper 1921 exterior, however, is little changed. 

Saturday, September 7, 2013

The A. B. Emmons House -- No. 40 East 38th Street





photo by Alice Lum
On January 10, 1896 The Sun reported on the rumors that had circulated through Manhattan’s high-toned sitting rooms for weeks.  “Mrs. Mary Scott Dimmock of 40 East Thirty-eighth street would not admit or deny yesterday the correctness of the statement published in The Sun’s Indanapolis despatch yesterday that she is soon to marry ex-President Benjamin Harrison.  There is a well-defined belief prevalent in the neighborhood of Mrs. Dimmock’s place of residence, however, that the story is true.”

Mary Dimmock and her sister, Mrs. J. H. Parker, had closed their door to reporters and gossip-mongers—for now.  The well-to-do widows both had a connection to the former president.   Mary’s aunt, Caroline Lavinia Scott Harrison, was his wife and First Lady.  In 1889 Mary had moved into the White House to serve as her aunt’s personal assistant.   Mary’s sister had been married to the now-deceased Lieutenant J. H. Parker, a distinguished military officer and Private Secretary to Harrison during his term in office.

Now the two ladies shared in a brownstone home in the fashionable Murray Hill neighborhood, drawing attention to themselves only because of Mary’s highly-noticeable gentleman caller.  Tidbits in the newspapers perked the attention of the matrons of society.  Three days after The Sun’s article, The New York Times mentioned “Gen. Harrison remained in the Fifth Avenue Hotel yesterday until after luncheon.  He went out at 3 o’clock to call on Mrs. Dimmock, at 40 East Thirty-eighth Street, returning to his hotel for dinner.”

The silence on the part of both parties was frustrating to reporters and the public alike.  On January 12 The Times grumbled “[Harrison] was willing to speak of the favorable state of his health, of the weather, and about his trip, but when reference was made to the reported marriage, his manner changed, and he very coldly said: ‘I cannot discuss the matter.’”

When the former President left through the Fifth Avenue Hotel’s private entrance after dinner and “strolled up Broadway,” The Times said “He told nobody where he was going, and seemed desirous of having his movements unknown.”

The newspaper added “Inquiry at the residence of Mrs. Dimmock, at 40 East Thirty-eighth Street, developed the fact that the ex-President had not been there, and that Mrs. Dimmock was also out for the evening.  Mrs. Dimmock had sent word earlier in the day, when asked for information, that she must be excused from saying anything.”

The rumored romance of the couple was fertile ground for wagging tongues.  Not only were they slightly related by marriage, Mary was 37 years old; Harrison was 62.  Finally, on January 17 the gossip was put to rest.  Harrison’s secretary, Colonel Tibbetts, had announced a press conference in the hotel lobby at 9:00 that night “for the communication of National importance.”

The New York Times said that the hotel’s corridors were “thronged” with politicians awaiting news.  At 9:00 Tibbetts appeared and distributed a printed announcement that read “Gen. Harrison authorized the announcement that he and Mrs. Dimmock are engaged to be married, and that the marriage will not take place until after lent.”


Mary Dimmock, the niece of his deceased wife Caroline, caught the eye of Benjamin Harrison --photograph Library of Congress
The couple was married in St. Thomas Episcopal Church on Fifth Avenue on April 6, 1896.  With Mary married, her sister left the 38th Street house as well.   Two years later the owner Fannie J. Byrnes leased the house for five years to “a Mrs. St. John,” according to The Times on August 18, 1898.

The St. John family did not live out their lease and in 1901 Fannie Byrnes sold the brownstone rowhouse.  Newspapers hinted at the buyer.   And on May 24 The Times said “it is reported that A. B. Emmons has bought the four-story dwelling.”

The wealthy Emmons and his wife, the former Julia W. Parish, were more well known in Newport society than in Manhattan.  Their estate there, Hillside, was the site of their most important entertaining and it was there that Emmons had announced his engagement to Julia in 1891.

With their new purchase, the Emmons family had acquired a wide town home in Murray Hill—an exclusive neighborhood populated by millionaires and aloofly removed from the more public Fifth Avenue.  But the post-Civil War residence was decidedly out of style.

Change was coming to Murray Hill in terms of architectural renovation.  New owners were modernizing their old brownstones with new facades and interior make-overs by the city’s most esteemed architects.  Arthur Emmons joined the trend by hiring the firm of Parrish & Schroeder to transform the stern high-stooped Victorian house to an up-to-date Beaux Arts palace.

Construction began in 1901 and the Emmons family packed their bags for Newport.  While the bulk of society was returning to the city, they headed in the opposite direction to wait out construction on the house.  The Newport reporter for The New York Times mentioned on October 16, 1901 “Arthur B. Emmons and family…arrived from New York to-day.”

A year later they moved into the completed house.  No trace of the former building where Benjamin Harrison courted Mary Dimmock survived.  The old stoop was gone and the Emmons family had a limestone-faced, American basement house fit for upper Fifth Avenue.  A two-story bowed bay rose above the entrance and a full-story, steep mansard roof completed the French design. 

photo by Wurts Brothers, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GHNJC3Z&SMLS=1&RW=1366&RH=603
Merely two years later, in April, Emmons sold the mansion.  It became home to the Rev. John B. Morgan and his wife Juliet.  Morgan had been for many years the pastor of the American Episcopal Church in Paris.  His wife was the sister of nearby neighbor J. P. Morgan, Jr..  Juliet Pierpont Morgan would stay on in the house following her husband’s death in 1912.

Like Emmons before her, Juliet filled the house with valuable art.   On the walls were hung paintings by 18th century English artists Joshua Reynolds, George Romney and John Hoppner.  On April 1, 1923 Juliet died at the age of 53.  The Times reported on her valuable jewelry and artworks; however seemed disappointed in her wardrobe.  “The report fixes the value of Mrs. Morgan’s wearing apparel at only $350,” it said.

The 38th Street house was purchased by Donald Winchester Brown.  Mrs. Brown immediately staged glittering entertainments.  The Browns’ daughter, Charlotte Babcock Brown, was the focus of a dizzying number of receptions, dinners and teas in 1926, the year of her debut.  On December 11 The New York Times reported that “Mrs. Donald W. Brown held a reception yesterday afternoon at her home, 40 East Thirty-eighth Street, to introduce her daughter…to some of her older friends.  Mrs. Brown and her daughter were assisted in receiving by Mrs. William Reynolds Brown, grandmother of the debutante, who gave a large dance for her last month.  Mrs. Rembrandt Peale, Jr., was at the tea table.  Mrs. Paul Gibert Thebaud will give a luncheon today at Pierre’s, followed by a theatre party, for Miss Brown.”

The street address was incorporated into the carved cartouche over the entrance -- photo by Alice Lum

Mrs. Brown accomplished an envy-inducing social coup in 1928 when a wireless report arrived at The New York Times office from London.   On June 12 the newspaper told readers that young Charlotte was “to be presented at Buckingham Palace at the season’s fourth court, it became known today.”  Charlotte had been chosen as one of six American girls “who will curtsey before their Majesties."
The Browns moved on from East 38th Street in 1930 when they sold the house to Grace Rainey Rogers.  Grace, too, was an art collector—surpassing perhaps all the former owners of the residence.  When she died in 1943 the nation’s top art museums stood in line for their bequests—The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Modern Art and the Cleveland Museum of Art among them.
At the time of her death, Grace was living at No. 58 Park Avenue and her niece, Bertha Rainey Plum, was living in the 38th Street house.  Not long afterwards, it was divided into apartments.

Life as an apartment house would be short-lived for No. 40, however.  In 1950 the United States Golf Association purchased the mansion to house its museum and headquarters.  The USGA spent $100,000 for the property and for what Marty Parkes, in his “Classic Shots: The Greatest Images from the United States Golf Association” calls “suitable renovations.” 

The association was responsible for developing standards for the game, including golf balls and clubs.  In its museum here the public was invited to view the group’s extensive collection of golf memorabilia and photographs.  Upstairs were club rooms and, on the third and fourth floors, two apartments each.

The former mansion became known as “Golf House,” and would continue its quiet operations here for over two decades.  Then in 1972 it sold the house and moved its administrative offices to a 70-acre former New Jersey country estate in Far Hills.  In 1991 the house was acquired by the owners of the Kitano Hotel next door at No. 42 East 38th Street. 


The Kitano management gutted the Edwardian interiors of Parrish & Schroeder’s entrance level to install a sleek, double-height restaurant, The Garden CafĂ©.  The rooms where socialites entertained among masterpieces of art gave way to an open, soaring space where lunching Murray Hill businessmen talk trade.

photo http://www.chopsticksny.com/contents/restaurant-review/2009/09/2788
The gracious Beaux Arts exterior, however, remains essentially unchanged.

photo by Alice Lum

Saturday, September 17, 2011

The 1854 Phelps-Morgan Mansion No. 231 Madison Avenue


In the decade before the Civil War, wealthy New Yorkers in the fashionable Bond Street neighborhood were just beginning to consider leaving their refined homes like those composing the white marble LaGrange Terrace as commercial enterprises slowly encroached.

Three connected families, however, evacuated early. The Phelps and Dodge families had made their immense fortunes mining copper. In 1852 John Jay Phelps, Isaac N. Phelps and William E. Dodge purchased the block of land on Madison Road (later to become Madison Avenue) between 36th and 37th Street and began construction on three impressive brownstone mansions with shared gardens and stables. At the time Madison extended no further than 42nd Street.

The residences were completed a year later. A graceful wrought iron fence set in a limestone wall wrapped the properties, protecting the three impressive Anglo-Italian homes.

Isaac Newton Phelps owned No. 231, the northern-most of the houses. Unlike his copper mining neighbors, his wealth--estimated at the time at around $5 million, or nearly $130 million by today's standard--was made in hardware, banking and real estate.

Phelps was already retired when he moved in with his wife, the former Sarah Maria Lusk, and their children.  At the time of his death thirty-five years later in 1888, the house and furnishings, valued at $175,000 were left to his daughter Helen Louise Stokes.

By this time J. Pierpont Morgan was living in the home built by John Jay Phelps at the 36th Street corner, having purchased it in 1882.



Mabel Youngson was employed as a maid at No. 231 in 1892. Working with her boyfriend, Arthur Morley, who was a servant a block away at No. 214, she slowly spirited costly items out of the mansion. After several months, Mrs. Stokes realized that over $2000 worth of china, jewelry and even rugs were missing. Youngson, however, gave the police the slip.  Although much of the stolen property was recovered, the maid escaped to England.

Within a week of the death of Mrs. William E. Dodge in 1903 in No. 225, the house next to his, Morgan purchased her home.  Before a year had passed he had also purchased the Stokes house at No. 231 as a gift to his son, J. P. Morgan, Jr. and his wife, the former Jane Norton Grew.

With no real need for the former Dodge house between the two residences, Morgan Sr. demolished it to create space for a shared garden.  In the meantime, Morgan, Jr. had the forty-five rooms of No. 231 professionally redecorated. The mid-Victorian interiors were renovated with lavish woodwork, intricate ceiling plaster detailing and richly carved mantles.

Young girls roller skate past J. P. Morgan Sr.'s house as a carriage with liveried coachmen passes the spot where the Dodge mansion had stood.  -- Library of Congress
The house was the scene of theft once again when John Bernauer sneaked in on January 26, 1912. Despite the family’s staff of 18 servants, he was able to make off with $4,500 worth of silver and cut glass. Unlike Mabel Youngson, however, the police finally arrested him in October after a string of similar burglaries of upscale residences.

In 1928 No. 231 became the last remaining house on the block when J. P. Morgan Senior’s mansion was demolished to accommodate an annex to the Morgan Library.


In 1928 No. 231 was the last of the original three mansions still standing -- nypl collection
The house was often the scene of sumptuous entertaining.  Even after Mrs. Morgan died on August 14, 1925, Morgan hosted a string of debutante dinners and dances in the house from 1934 through 1939 for his granddaughters. Five hundred guests were entertained on December 18, 1936, for instance. The Alexander Haas orchestra played as guests danced in the library and the entire first floor was decorated with palm trees, chrysanthemums, roses and other flowers.

J. P. Morgan, Jr. died on March 13, 1943. By September the United Lutheran Church in America was planning the purchase of the house as its national headquarters.  In December Parke-Bernet Galleries announced that the furnishings and artwork from the mansion would be sold at a series of three auctions beginning January 6, 1944.

Items being sold from the house were an Oriental Lowestoft porcelain bowl, said to have been used at the christening of George Washington in 1732, 18th century gold boxes, two French 18th century enamel portrait miniatures of Benjamin Franklin, French and English furniture and Oriental rugs.

The Lutheran Church of America moved in a year later, having spent $245,000 on the purchase. The Rev. Franklin Clark Fry established his office in front of the built-in cabinet where the Morgan children’s toys had been stored. The Rev. George F. Harkins, assistant to Dr. Fry, worked in what had been Mrs. Morgan’s boudoir under the frescoed ceiling by German artist Rosa Kauffmann. Crystal chandeliers on the main floor were still in use – valued at $5000 each in 1955.


Not long after this photograph was taken, the tall brick chimneys were demolished, as was the carriage house immediately behind the mansion.  -- nypl collection
Although the Lutherans treated the interiors with respect, they place no historical importance on the structure. In June 1955 the tall, imposing brick chimneys were hammered apart and the coach house was demolished. In its place a modern 4-story building was erected.

As summer approached in 1965, the Lutheran Church applied for a zoning change that would allow the demolition of the mansion and construction of a 12-to-15-story office building. The church complained that it needed more space.

Strong opposition from civic and political groups was voiced at a public hearing at City Hall. Mrs. Eleanor Clark French, the city’s Commissioner to the United Nations protested that it would “destroy part of a beautiful entity.” Surprisingly, perhaps, the Rev. George Koski, a Lutheran minister from the Bronx was extremely vocal against the demolition, calling the mansion “an oasis of beauty in the middle of a turbulent town.”

Other protesters included the American Institute of Architects and the Municipal Art Society.

The New York City Landmark Preservation Commission rushed to protect the structure, giving it landmark designation that year. But the church was undaunted and sued in the State Court of Appeals.

The magnificent exterior ironwork was a late-19th century addition.
Two years later the battle was still raging. H. Ober Hess, speaking for the Lutheran Church in America, felt that the mansion “has never been in a New York City guidebook,” and therefore was expendable.

To the astonishment and severe disappointment of preservationists and most New Yorkers, the Court of Appeals reversed the landmark status on July 15, 1974 in a 5-to-2 decision. The fate of the Morgan Mansion, it seemed, was sealed.

But by now the Lutheran Church had run out of money. A church spokesman said that because “money is no longer available today for building,” it would keep the Morgan house “as is.” The perilous situation, however, unnerved preservationists.

Beverly Moss Spatt, chairman of the Landmarks Preservation Commission was “shocked and disappointed” by the decision. Eminent preservation architect Giorgio Cavaglieri said the ruling “concerns itself with the fact that the owners of this building deserve the consideration of certain amounts of money. If they are entitled to compensation the local government has the responsibility to provide such compensation so that New York’s citizens in the future , as well as the present, can at least have some living record of their visual heritage.”

The Commission refused to give up and in 1974 it re-designated the house a landmark.

The Morgan Library's 2006 addition now fills the void where the William E. Dodge mansion once stood.
Finally in 1988 the mansion was purchased by the Morgan Library. Architects Voorsanger & Mills melded the house with the Library by means of a modern glass wing. The interiors of the house were tenderly preserved. The rooms in which 500 guests dined and danced in 1936 are now home to the gift shop and bookstore, as well as a small café. Offices and conference rooms are housed upstairs.

The Morgan mansion is one of Manhattan’s few existing free-standing brownstone mansions; one which only barely managed to survive.  In 1974, Beverly Moss Spatt urged “We must preserve such buildings not only for themselves but for the preservation of the entire city. The Morgan house is evocative of its period and has a wealth of architectural detail, dignity, and simplicity.”

non-credited photographs taken by the author