photo by Alice Lum |
Wealthy leather merchant Julien Stevens Ulman was 36 years
old when he took Gertrude Oldfield Barclay as his wife on April 29,
1901. The newlyweds would quickly
throw themselves into the swirl of fashionable society. Just eleven days later the New-York Tribune
noted “Mr. and Mrs. Julien Stevens Ulman…will visit Newport and Southampton
this summer, and make frequent coaching trips around New-York, which will be
their headquarters, on account of Mr. Ulman’s business. They will take a party of friends to the
races to-morrow on their coach.”
With their summer social plans laid out, Ulman now had the
task of finding a suitable home for his bride. As luck would have it speculative builder J.
C. Lyons was busy at work on East 81st Street. The block between Central Park and Madison
Avenue had been, only a few years earlier, far from the rows of mansions that
defined Millionaires Row south of 54th Street. Now those wealthy families had spread up
Fifth Avenue along the park far north of the unpleasant encroachment of
business.
Lyons commissioned the architectural firm of Buchman &
Fox to design a splendid residence fit for the likes of its Fifth Avenue
neighbors. Begun in 1900, it would
follow the historic-based trend started a few years earlier by mansions like Isaac
Dudley Fletcher’s massive 1898 French Gothic pile just two blocks to the south,
and William K. Vanderbilt’s French chateau at No. 660 Fifth Avenue. For Lyons, the architects created a five-story
limestone clad neo-Renaissance fantasy encrusted with late Gothic detail. How much of an influence C. P. H. Gilbert’s
Fletcher mansion, completed just two years earlier, was on Buchman & Fox is
speculation; but many of its Gothic details reappeared here, such as the
pierced balustrades and decorative corbel tables.
photo by Alice Lum |
About six months after the Ulman wedding, Lyons began advertising
his still-unfinished mansion. He
described it as a “palatial dwelling” of 34 rooms, “including six bathrooms and
lavatories.” While the architects
provided an historic façade, Lyons brought the interiors into the 20th
century. “An electric passenger
elevator, dumbwaiter, intercommunicating telephones, electric lighting and
indirect steam radiation are among the various modern improvements that have
been introduced,” his advertisement boasted.
Lyons included a sketch of the house in his advertisements -- New-York Tribune August 31, 1902 (copyright expired) |
By September 1902 J. C. Lyons pronounced the new residence “ready
for immediate occupancy.” Before long J.
Stevens and Gertrude Ulman had moved in.
Uhlman was a partner in the exporting firm F. Blumenthal Leather Company
at No. 27 Cedar Street. The company was a branch of the Frankfort
leather company founded in 1715.
The Ulman family quickly grew with the birth of Audrey in
1905, Anthony in 1907 and Granville a year later. Another son, Rutgers, would arrive in
1912. The addition of children to the
Ulman household did not significantly slow the social activities in the house,
however.
Gertrude's drawing room included French paneling, furniture and, perhaps surprisingly, a tiger-skin rug -- NYPL Collection |
On February 4, 1910, the same year that Julien would be made
Vice President of the firm, The New York Times noted that “Mrs. J. Stevens
Ulman, who entertained last evening with a dinner, will give another to-night
at her residence, 24 East Eighty-first Street.”
The scope of the entertainments was evident in December 1915 when the
newspaper reported on a “large dance at her home.”
“The first two floors were cleared for dancing, and there
were more than 200 present, and a number of dinner hostesses brought their
guests.” In turn of the century New York
it was often customary for socialites to synchronize their entertainments—one giving
a dinner and another a dance on the same evening, for instance, with the same
or overlapping guest list.
photo by Alice Lum |
The carefree gaiety of New York society took on a more
serious mood when the United States entered World War I four months later, on
April 6, 1917. Debutantes joined the
Red Cross, socialites offered their help in hospitals, and the young sons of
millionaires marched off to war. The
Ulmans, too, offered their support.
As Thanksgiving neared that year, the city pulled together
to give the soldiers and sailors in the nearby camps a memorable holiday. Millionaires and working families alike
opened their homes to the enlisted men, or booked restaurants to entertain them. The Sun reported “Thousands upon thousands of
homes in New York city, throughout Long Island and in New Jersey will be opened
to-morrow for the entertainment of the legion of soldiers and sailors now in
camps and on ships in the immediate vicinity of New York.”
Mrs. Henry Clay Frick opened her Fifth Avenue mansion’s dining room for
ten men and J. B. Taylor invited fifty soldiers to his home at No. 903 Park
Avenue. Julien and Gertrude Ulman gave
up their Thanksgiving dinner at home to spend the holiday, instead, with
twenty-five enlisted men at Reisenweber’s restaurant.
A different view of the drawing room shows exquisite ceiling moldings. And a polar bear rug to keep the tiger company. --NYPL Collection |
Society managed to mix the war efforts with lighter
diversions. On January 31, 1918 the Ulmans
hosted a dinner in their home for Milenko R. Vesnitch, the Serbian Minister to
France and Belgium, and Chief of the Serbian War Mission to the United
States. Simultaneously Ulman was
preparing his stable of show horses for the very fashionable New York Horse Show.
By November of 1919 Julies Stevens Ulman had made
significant advances in his career. He
was now President of F. Blumenthal & Co.; President of the Amalgamated
Leather Companies; President of the Transocean Products Company and the Fashion
Publicity Company; and a Director in the Manila Railway Company. To add to his responsibilities he was
appointed Special Deputy Police Commissioner that month.
The millionaire quickly gained the reputation as “the cop’s
friend” by recognizing the financial problems policemen faced and instituting
programs to help alleviate them. He
quickly established and supervised a chain of cooperative stores where
policemen could purchase goods below retail prices. He told the press that he “hoped to develop
this enterprise far enough to enable ‘the cop’s dollar’ to regain the power it
had before the war.”
A month after he took office, he opened the first of the
police stores on the ground floor of the old police headquarters building at
No. 300 Mulberry Street. Patrolmen
William F. Schneider and Christopher J. Henry were taken off their beats to
become store clerks. Officers could now
make their scant pay stretch farther with the store selling sugar at 10 cents
per pound, for instance.
Ulman also did away with the policy that required policemen to purchase their own uniforms.
And he went further. The New York
Times reported that “In one of the Liberty Loan drives he subscribed heavily
through the police division, and announced that he would buy a thousand-dollar
bond from any policeman who stopped him on the street and asked for a
subscription.”
In the meantime Gertrude continued her entertaining and her
charity work. In January 1920 she was a patroness of a charity performance by Pavlowa at the Manhattan Opera House for
the Navy Club. Her name was printed
alongside other patronesses who formed a list of Manhattan’s wealthiest
socialites; Mrs. James Roosevelt, Mrs. Otto H. Kahn, Mrs. Edward Harkness, Mrs. Hugh D. Auchincloss,
Miss Mary Harkness Flagler, Mrs. Ogden Reid, and Mrs. Arthur M. Dodge among
them.
But glittering entertainments and
improvements for police personnel were drawing to a close for Julien Stevens
Ulman. For several months he had suffered from
a tumor of the chest. Finally on
February 28, 1920 an operation was performed at the Post-Graduate Hospital by
Dr. John F. Erdmann. Ulman was sent back
home to No. 24 East 81st Street, where the 54-year old died on May
7.
The coffin was displayed in the parlor
where Gertrude Ulman received visitors for two days. Then at 10:00 on the morning of May 10 Police
Commissioner Richard E. Enright, accompanied by all of the deputy commissioners,
paid their final respects. A police
escort proceeded with the body from the house to St. Bartholomew’s Church where
the funeral services were held. A
platoon of mounted police acted as honor guard.
The will, which The New York Times
referred to as “unique,” was made public a few weeks later. Of the “several million dollars” Gertrude’s
share was perceived by most to be small.
The New-York Tribune said “Apparently meager provision for the widow,
Mrs. Gertrude Oldfield Ulman, consisting of the income from the residuary
estate, the testator’s personal effects and jewelry and the use of his city and
country residences, is explained in the will by the statement that Mrs. Ulman
has personal means, is the beneficiary of insurance policies and because the
decedent made liberal provisions for her during his lifetime.”
The will ensured that Gertrude would
receive no less than $40,000 per year (about $350,000 today) and provided her the use of the homes for life. The three
boys, the oldest of which was just 13, were to received $250,000 at the age of
25 “to enable them to engage in a profession or business.” Audrey
would inherit a trust fund of $200,000 “If Mr. Ulman’s daughter marries with
the consent of her mother,” said The Tribune.
Ulman was generous to the household
staff, giving his secretary, Kate D. Warriner, $1,000; the butler Arthur
Thornhill $500; and Gertrude’s maid Jeanne de Buyzer $500.
After the expected period of mourning,
the house was reopened for social functions.
On November 21, 1922 Audrey Barclay Ulman made her splash into New York
society with a debutante dinner given by her grandmother, Mrs. Barclay Bayne at
the Ritz-Carlton. The New-York Tribune called
it “one of the largest” of the season’s entertainments and the guest list
included other debutantes with socially-powerful names like Robb, Stillman,
Brokaw and Stevens.
Gertrude sold the house on 81st
Street to Hagop Kevorkian, an Armenian-born archaeologist, art connoisseur and
collector. An early archaeologist in
the Middle East, he directed important excavations such as those of Rayy and
Sultanabad in Iran. His focus was
primarily on Islamic art and he collected artifacts and art objects for
collectors such as J. P. Morgan and was an ardent supporter of the
Metropolitan Museum of Art. While
living in the former Ulman house, Kevorkian acquired the forty-one leaves of
the Mughal “Emperor’s Album” which were later donated to the Metropolitan
Museum. The museum calls it “one of the
world’s great assemblages of Mughal calligraphy and painting.”
In the fall of 1941 The Bentley School
purchased the house from Kevorkian, “in an expansion move.” The school had been founded in 1915 as the
Social Motive School after the earlier Speyer School, an experimental branch of
Teachers College, was closed. In 1933
the school had acquired its main building on No. 48 West 86th Street. The
new property, said The New York Times, would serve as an annex “to take care of an
expanding student body and also to ease the transportation problem of pupils
now living on the East Side.”
The school had paid about $125,000 for
the house which it intended to alter “to fit its new use.” The Times reminisced about the
structure. “The ornate stone exterior of
the house identifies it as being of the period about a generation ago, when
fronts of this type were the mode for families of wealth and social
position. Stone-railed porches overlook
the street at the second and fourth floor levels. Spacious rooms and high ceilings will help to
adapt the place to school purposes.”
photo by Alice Lum |
The Bentley School would not be in the
Ulman home for long. In 1946 the
mansion was converted to apartments—two per floor. Among the first tenants was the 50-year old George
Tiffany. Tiffany had served in both
world wars and his personal story read like a novel.
Having left Harvard in 1917 when war
was declared, Tiffany won a commission as a lieutenant in the Aviation Corps. and arrived in France with the first contingent of American fliers. He was subsequently shot
down behind German lines along with five other pilots. During his months in a
prison camp. Lt. Tiffany hid the fact
that he spoke German from his captors and listened carefully to conversations. Finally the American pilots escaped and made
their way back to Allied lines. The
information he had gathered was passed to intelligence officers.
During World War II Tiffany advanced to
the rank of lieutenant colonel. Now
with the war ended, Tiffany entered civilian life, opening a business office at
No. 405 Lexington Avenue. But on
November 28, 1946 the bachelor's heroic life ended when he was found dead in his apartment at No. 24 East 81st
Street from natural causes.
In 1959 William M. Singer had an lush
apartment in the building. Singer was the managing director of the
Shelton Towers Hotel; but he was best known to police as a forger and scam
artist. Once described as “New York’s
most notorious stock swindler,” he had been arrested nine times and convicted
three times. His prison terms were the
result of offense such as second-degree grand larceny, grand larceny, and
forgery. On January 24 he was back in
police custody, held in complicity in forgery and theft of $318,000.
The house was converted again in 1964
to include an art gallery on the second floor.
The Bykert Gallery, headed by Klaus Kertess, represented modern artists
like Brice Marden, David Navors and Dorothea Rockburne. Later it would be home to the Vanderwoulde
Tananbaum Gallery that exhibited works by artists like Nevelson, Resnick and
Stamos.
Architectural detailing survives in the Crown restaurant -- photo http://www.crown81.com/gallery/ |
Today the street level is home to
Crown, an upscale restaurant opened by John DeLucie. While neither Julien Stevens Uhlman nor his
wife, Gertrude, could possibly have imagined such a harshly public use of the
parlor floor of their grand home, the restaurant has carefully preserved much
of the interior detail; and the exterior is virtually unchanged.
I found a lot of drawing from an Uhlman 1901
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Yes. If this is about my great-grandfather Julien Stevens Ulman?
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