photo by Alice Lum |
On March 20, 1902 Noah Davis died at his home at No. 46 West
56th Street of what The American Lawyer called “old age and
bronchial trouble.” The 83-year old
former judge had served as Presiding Justice of the Supreme Court of New York
County for thirteen years. A personal
friend of Ulysses Grant, he was best known for presiding over the trials of
Boss Tweed and that of Edward S. Stokes for the murder of “Jim” Fisk.
By the time of his death his Fifth Avenue neighborhood had greatly
changed from comfortable rows of identical brownstone homes to one of grand
limestone mansions. Justice Davis, however, had
been content to live out his life in his no longer stylish rowhouse.
While Justice Davis had been hearing high-profile cases in
New York, a flamboyant heiress was making headlines in California. Amy Crocker was the daughter of the immensely
wealthy railroad magnate Edwin Bryant Crocker and upon his death in 1875 she
inherited several million dollars. The
spirited young woman was in no way the prudish Victorian socialite. In 1883 she ran away from school and married
Kentucky horseman R. Porter Ashe. The pair had a daughter, Gladys.
The New York Times would later report “The marriage was not
a happy one, and the couple were divorced in 1889, Mrs. Ashe retaining the care
of her daughter.”
But as The Sunday Oregonian noted years later, for Amy “affairs
of the heart have been merely a means to an end.” Within months of the divorce she married
Henry M. Gillig, the Commodore of the Larchmont Yacht Club. That marriage quickly ended in divorce and
she married Jackson Gouraud in 1901.
Finally Amy had found someone whose temperament and
interests matched hers. Gouraud was the
son of the colorful Colonel George E. Gouraud who claimed to have fired the
first shot in the Civil War and of whom the New-York Tribune said “startled the
world on more than one occasion by his gigantic schemes and dreams, one of
which was to found an empire of his own in North Africa.”
A ragtime composer, Jackson Gouraud was a flashy dresser with expensive
tastes. The Times said that when he
arrived in New York he had “very little money, but he had great ideas on how
men should dress.” Amy
Crocker-Ashe-Gillig had finally met the man she could stay with. The newspaper explained “Their tastes ran in
the same bohemian grooves and they appeared to live happily together.”
At the time of their marriage, Amy was living in a mansion
at No. 439 Madison Avenue and owned a sprawling 14-acre summer estate in
Larchmont, New York called La Hacienda.
Before too long they would be living in the former Justice Davis house.
Seven months after Davis’s death, in November 1902, real
estate operator Mitchell A. C. Levy purchased the home. He told reporters he “considered the erection
of a bachelor apartment house on the lot.”
He obviously reconsidered the scheme, and in 1903 leased the residence
to M. J. Clark for a term of three years.
In the meantime, Amy’s Larchmont house burned to the ground
on February 4, 1904. In typical Amy
Gouraud fashion, she replaced it with a larger, more lavish mansion. The New York Times called the new La Hacienda
“one of the show places along the Sound shore and is said to represent an
outlay of about $1,000,000.”
A year earlier Gladys, who went by her mother’s maiden name,
had added to the family’s eyebrow-raising reputation. She was fifeen years old when Jackson and Amy
married and “was thrown a great deal into the society of her mother’s younger
brother-in-law, Powers Gouraud, who was only two years older than she.” In 1903 Gladys and her step-uncle eloped to
London where they were married in St. Clement Danes Church.
The newspapers had a field day. The New-York Tribune said “By this marriage
Mrs. Jackson Gouraud became the sister-in-law of her own daughter, and his own
brother became Jackson Gouraud’s stepson-in-law, while Mrs. Powers Gouraud is
also her stepfather’s sister-in-law.”
Amy and “Jack” had established themselves as well-known “first-nighters”
at the theater. The New York Times explained
“The regular bona fide First Nighter is a man to be feared.” The paper said that “The First Nighter knows
exactly how the play should have been written, or he thinks he does, which in
effect is the same thing. It
provided a list of “habitual first-nighters” which included, along with the
Gourauds, the cream of Manhattan society:
the Cornelius Vanderbilts, the J. Pierpont Morgans, the August Belmonts,
the Chauncey M. Depews, the George Goulds, the Oliver H. P. Belmont and the
Stuyvesant Fishes, among them.
On May 9, 1906, the New-York Tribune reported that Mitchell
A. C. Levy had sold the old Justice Davis house to Samuel Kridel. By now the outdated brownstone was barely
marketable and Kridel intended to make the most of his investment. “The buyer will alter the structure into an
American basement dwelling house,” said the newspaper.
Two years later Davis’s staid old home had been transformed. It now wore a French façade of gleaming
white limestone. The entrance was
centered in the rusticated base below a stone balcony. Heavily-carved panels of fruity festoons and
ribbons separated the second and third floor windows, and panels of cherubs,
oddly sitting in baskets, and twining flowers flanked the fourth story
openings. Above it all a dormered
mansard sat behind a limestone balustrade.
Prior to the transformation, No. 46 looked much like the brownstone houses on either side. photo NYPL Collection |
Jackson Gouraud purchased the renovated mansion. At the same time that he and Amy were moving
from Madison Avenue into the new house, Gladys was living in the Larchmont
estate. After she and Powers married,
they had spent the summer in Paris. Then
The Times said that “on their return to this country the bride took up her
residence at La Hacienda, her mother’s house at Larchmont, while Powers Gouraud
had an apartment at the Holland House.
Since then they have been little together.” In January 1907 their divorce proceedings
were begun.
Since their marriage Amy and Jack had traveled extensively—not
only to the expected destinations of wealthy Americans like Paris and Rome, but
to India and other exotic lands. Amy’s avante
garde tastes were reflected in the decorating of the new house and she filled
the rooms with curiosities gathered from around the globe.
Amy's "Indian Room" displayed exotic items gathered while traveling -- 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=24UP1GH2E2E2&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894 |
Entertainments in the Gouraud house were equally
unusual. The Sunday Oregonian would
later say that Amy’s “truly oriental entertainments in her New York City home
made even ultra-Bohemia gasp.” In January 1908 she hosted a “Salome dinner”
and “snake ball” in the Café Martin a year later which The Times said “attracted
considerable attention.”
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=24UP1GH2E2E2&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894 |
When the pair was not traveling, Jackson continued
composing. His greatest success was the
ragtime song “Waldorf Hyphen Astoria,” which was sung by Marie Dressler and
became a popular hit. The New-York Tribune said his “career bordered
on the sensational.” Then on Thursday
evening, February 17, 1910 he contracted tonsillitis. Within a few days it developed into blood
poisoning and Monday the 21st he died in the 56th Street
house. “Even at the last it was said
that his death was unexpected,” reported The New York Times.
The morning funeral was held in the house two days later. Amy did not want a large crowd, so she sent
word that the service would be held in the afternoon. “Contrary to expectation, not more than a
half dozen persons, and those his most intimate friends, were there,” reported
The New York Times. “When a number of
theatrical folk and Broadwayites called about 2 P. M. they were told that the
funeral was over for several hours.”
The strange cherubs in baskets survive under a layer of grime -- photo by Alice Lum |
Amy Gouraud closed the house on 56th Street and
traveled. Seven months later The Times
noted that “Since the death of her husband, Jackson Gouraud, last February,
Mrs. Gouraud has spent but little time at her home, 46 West Fifty-sixth Street.” Her mourning was soon over and by January
she was back in New York and entertaining as usual.
On January 14, 1911 vaudeville and silent screen star
Valeska Surratt married Fletcher Norton, an actor who was currently appearing
with her on stage. The Times noted that
Valeska “attracted considerable attention in ‘The Girl with the Whooping Cough,’
a play whose run was terminated by the Mayor.”
Amy drove the wedding party to the Justice of the Peace in
Jersey City in her touring car. The newspaper
added “After the ceremony Mr. and Mrs. Norton and friends speeded to the home
of Mrs. Gouraud at 46 West Fifty-sixth Street.
There a light luncheon was set, after which the newly wedded couple
returned to the theatre in time for their appearance. After the theatre they returned to Mrs.
Gouraud’s, where a number of friends awaited them.”
Before long Amy would try her own hand on the stage. On April 3, 1911 The Times said “one fact
about the new Folies Bergere that the management was holding back to be sprung
as a ‘coup de publicity’ the day before the opening performance inadvertently
became known yesterday, when some one discovered that Mrs. Jackson Gouraud is to
be a member of the company. She is to
have a speaking part in what the actors are beginning to talk of as the ‘hell
number’ in one of the revues.”
The newspaper said “Mrs. Gouraud has done a great many other
things on the spur of the moment—written books, lived in native Oriental huts,
given strange dances, and danced in them.”
Before long Amy tired of New York. The Larchmont estate was being leased to Urban
H. Broughton, the son-in-law of Standard Oil director H. H. Rogers; and the 56th
Street house was put on the market. In
her typically independent way, Amy handled the sale herself rather than
entrust the deal to a broker.
Amy Gouraud placed her own ad in the newspapers (although she got the "English basement" wrong) -- New-York Tribune December 8, 1912 (copyright expired) |
In June 1913 Rebecca Crear paid Amy $150,000 (about $2
million today) for the house. Newspapers
reported “The building will be altered and used as a dressmaking establishment.” She ran her dress shop from the house for
seven years before leasing the building to Horace J. Phillips in September
1920. Phillips signed a 21-year lease,
at $10,000 per year, telling reporters he intended to convert the building into
“small apartments.”
In the meantime, Amy (who now used the French spelling
Aimee) was living in Paris. Elizabeth
Van Benthuysen, a Paris correspondent, wrote on May 23, 1920 “Last Sunday at
high noon Aimee Crocker-Ashe-Gillig-Gouraud, formerly of San Francisco, Cal.,
and more recently of No. 46 West Fifty-sixth street, New York City, globe
trotter and high priestess of the occult faith, motored from her Paris
residence, No. 4 rue Alfred de Hudonque, to the corner of the Champs
Elysees. There she alighted with her
escort, Prince W. Cantacuzene de Tzikaivty, and in solemnity joined the slowly
moving procession of fashion plate promenaders.
“And all well-dressed Paris, being there to see and to be
seen, gasped in amazement as she passed.
“Mme. Gouraud returned home satisfied. She had triumphed. An American woman had attracted more
attention than any Parisian in the clothes capital’s Sunday morning parade of
frocks, frills and furbelows.”
Before long Amy would add another name to her growing surname. And a title.
According to French newspaprs, she became the Princess Tzikaivty when she married the man who had escorted her
that Sunday.
Even in her later years, Amy's flamboyant style shined through -- photo Library of Congress |
Back home the mansion on 56th Street where she
entertained vaudeville stars and snake dancers had been converted to a store on
the first and second floors, and apartments above. In 1932 the apartments gave way to factory
and showroom space. Any trace of Amy
Gouraud’s exotic interiors were obliterated.
In the mid-20th century the street level was home
to upscale art galleries, the Marino Art Gallery followed by the Westerly
Gallery. Then in the 1960s it was home to The Coffee
Mill where midtown workers were served “assorted sandwiches, soups and salads
and ‘hamburgers of the world.’”
Today a retail space is on the first floor and a beauty
salon on the second. A huge commercial
opening has been gouged into the rusticated base of the house and flat panes of
glass replace the French windows of 1912.
But above street level the home of one of the most colorful couples
of Edwardian New York lived is remarkably intact.
photo by Alice Lum |
I remember going to the Coffee Mill around 1963, 1964.
ReplyDeleteJudge Noah Davis is my great great great grandfather. Thank you so much for the detailed history of what was once his home.
ReplyDelete