The fanciful house stretched 100 feet down the block -- photo streeteasy.com/nyc |
In 1887 both architect Edward Angell and developer William
Noble were busy on the Upper West Side.
Following the Civil War and with the opening of Central Park, real
estate developers speculated on the opportunities that the rocky, barren area
held. In place of the shanties and dirt
roads, they envisioned a modern residential neighborhood. By now development was going
full-steam. In 1885 The New
York Times had noted “The west side of the city presents just now a scene of
building activity such as was never before witnessed in that section, and which
gives promise of the speedy disappearance of all the shanties in the
neighborhood and the rapid population of this long neglected part of New York.”
Within two years Angell would be working on two rows of
houses on West End Avenue and West 77th Street in the Romanesque
Revival style and the Hotel Endicott.
In 1890 construction would begin on his San Remo Apartments. But for now, in 1887, he was working with William Noble
on a string of rowhouses on Central Park West from 84th to 85th
Streets.
Angell used a full bag of architectural styles and the Upper
West Side was a perfect canvas.
Here the latest trends were
reflected in stained glass, gargoyles, dog-legged stoops, and eccentric turrets
and balconies. In writing about the
Upper West Side in August 1890, the New-York Herald said “As the time of square
brick and brown stone houses has gone by, so alas has the time when New York
can afford to neglect her approach and her outward appearances.”
For Noble’s nine
speculative residences Angell turned to the Queen Anne style. Ground was broken in 1888 and construction
was completed a year later. For his upscale homes with Central Park views,
Noble spared no expense—these were, after all, intended for well-to-do
families. Construction of each of the
residences cost $37,000—about $850,000 today.
The homes—running from No. 241 to 249 Central Park West—were
a riot of gables, bays, chimneys and angles.
Each was individual; yet they flowed together as a harmonious
whole. The commodious houses were 100
feet deep and 25 feet wide. The additional wall of windows of the two corner residences, Nos. 241 and 249, made these two especially desirable.
photo by Alice Lum |
No. 249 blended brownstone and red brick into an architectural whimsy. A corner faceted tower rose to a conical
tiled cap and delightful pseudo balconies.
"The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide" thought the group perhaps
too whimsical; criticizing their “giddiness.”
The house was purchased by wallpaper manufacturer Frederick
Beck. The principal of Frederick Beck
& Co., he would sit on the Board of the National Wall Paper Company upon
its founding in 1894. That company was
an amalgamation of 17 wall paper manufacturers; creating a gigantic business
concern.
Around 200 guests filed into the house on October 15, 1890
for the wedding of daughter Frederica to Rudolph J. Schaefer. “The parlors were decorated with palms and a profusion
of cut flowers. At one end of was bower of
roses, under which the marriage ceremony was held,” reported The New York
Times.
The newspaper made note that Frederica’s “ornaments were
diamonds.” Among the more celebrated
guests was the newly-elected Governor of New Jersey Leon Abbett, Rudolph
Guggenheimer, and display manufacturer J. R. Palmenberg and his family.
Beck would stay on in the house through the turn of the
century. By 1914 it was owned by clergyman
Luther Albert Swope and his wife, the former Rebecca Wendel. The Swope’s comfortable financial position
came from mostly from Rebecca Wendel Swope.
Rebecca had grown up in the Wendel mansion at No. 442 Fifth
Avenue at the corner of 39th Street. The hulking brick and brownstone house was
built by her grandfather around 1856.
John G. Wendel began as a fur merchant at the same time as John Jacob
Astor; and like Astor he funneled his money into Manhattan real estate. Despite his fortune, Wendel was notoriously
frugal—The New York Times would later say he “let his contractor draw the plans
[of his mansion] to save the architect’s fees.”
Along with Rebecca in the house were her brother, John
Gottlieb Wendel and her four sisters.
Following their parents’ deaths the eccentric and controlling John ruled
his sisters’ lives. “Because of his
aversion to automobiles and other modern improvements he became known as ‘The
Hermit of Fifth Avenue,” said The New York Times.
The newspaper later said that he “taught them they must not
marry or dissipate their stewardship and that publicity was demeaning.” While Rebecca “resisted this training,”
according to the newspaper, her sisters lived in a time capsule, insulated from
the changing world outside the old mansion.
The New York Times said “The sisters dressed in styles of many years ago, lived
frugally and simply, and persisted in hanging the family washing in the back
yard in defiance of neighbors’ protests.”
In 1934 the Wendel mansion still sat at 39th Street and Fifth Avenue. Note the wall extending to the right and the handsome old carriage house to the rear of the house. photograph by Wurtz Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWFZDRV&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894 |
John Wendel died in 1914 leaving Rebecca in charge of
managing the family estate—worth at the time around $60 million. On February 28, 1915 The New York Times noted “The
sisters never ride in a street car and never in their lives have they been in
an automobile. They never shop in the fashionable
district, for things are too expensive there.
They buy all their groceries and supplies in the inexpensive little
shops over on Sixth Avenue and make their purchases personally, seldom letting
them be delivered but carrying them home themselves and paying for them with
cash. They are quick to see bargains and
watch for them like the poorest housewife.”
In order to prevent the State from receiving what had been
estimated at between $3 or $4 million in estate taxes, John had quietly and quickly
transferred the Wendel real estate into the names of his sisters during the
last two years of his life. “It had been
done in such a gradual way that it will probably be impossible for the State to
show that it was done with the purpose of evading the inheritance tax,”
reported The New York Times.
The block was still intact when the Swopes were living here. No. 249 sits at the far end. photo NYPL Collection |
Although Rebecca escaped the house and her brother, the
Wendel family values were deeply instilled.
“Twice a week Mrs. Swope and her husband dare the wild adventure of the
elevated to the downtown offices of the Wendel estate at 175 Broadway They do not own a car and taxicabs are so
expensive!” reported The New York Times, somewhat mockingly.
There, surrounded by twenty or more ancient safes containing the deeds to the Wendel properties, they discuss with the manager the details of their affairs.
Luther Swope had graduated from Harvard with a Bachelor’s
degree in 1868 and a Masters in 1871.
Upon his death in 1924, he added to Rebecca’s personal fortune by
leaving her $90,000. She was now
widowed, childless and fantastically wealthy.
Public speculation focused on the aging Wendel sisters who had no direct
heirs.
There were only three sisters left now, and the following
year Rebecca’s 79-year old sister Georgiana died of influenza which had developed
into pneumonia. (At the time of her
death newspapers noted that the house, built at a cost of $5,000 was now valued
at $2 million). The family’s attorney, Charles G. Koss, was
deluged with calls regarding the Fifth Avenue house which, said The New York Times, “has
never been changed. The dining room,
parlor and library, it is said, are scrupulously kept in the exact condition in
which they were left by the builder of the house, John Wendel, at his death in
1859.”
Developers were disheartened when it was announced that “Miss
Ella V. von E. Wendel, an elderly woman and worth many millions, will live
alone with the old family servants and carry on the traditions of the Wendel
family in the old rusty brick mansion at Thirty-ninth Street and Fifth Avenue.”
On July 20, 1930 Rebecca A. D. Wendel Swope died, leaving
Ella the sole surviving sister and the end of the Wendel line. Readers were somewhat shocked, although
surprisingly so, when her entire estate was left to the 80-year old Ella. Following the filing of the will, The New
York Times noted that “about $100,000,000, representing real estate accumulated
by two centuries of the Wendel family, was not left to charity after all.” Among the few items not left to her sister
was the house on Central Park West.
“Mrs. Swope’s nearest relative after her sister was her
husband’s nephew, George Stanley Shirk of Dobbs Ferry, N.Y., to whom she left a
house at 249 Central Park West, as well as cash deposited in various banks and
personal and household effects.”
Eight months after Rebecca’s death, Ella died in the house
at Fifth Avenue and 39th Street, ending a most peculiar New York
social story. George Stanley Shirk maintained ownership of the Central Park West house for years; however he and his family never moved in. Instead, before long, it sat uninhabited. According to historian Andrew Alpern, by World War II it was "boarded up, with the doors very neatly covered in painted boards carefully set into the enframement (just as many other large houses on the East Side were similarly boarded up.)"
Then in 1957 the house
was converted to apartments and the exterior modernized to comply with
mid-century distaste for overblown ornamentation. In a further attempt to update the old
Victorian, it was slathered in white paint.No. 249 lost its carved ornamentation, still evident next door at No. 247 (which also endured a coat of paint) -- photo by Alice Lum |
One of the tenants, John Herget, purchased the house in
1974. The former mansion would probably
have remained a bit beat up if a chunk of the façade had not crashed to the
sidewalk in 1989. In order to repair the
masonry, Herget had to strip off the paint and eventually the facade was
somewhat unintentionally restored.
The magnificent woodwork of the dining room is unbelievably intact -- photo streeteasy.com/nyc |
Around 2006 the mansion was purchased for $14.4 million and
a conversion was begun to bring it back to a single-family home. A real estate agent put a happy face on the
gutting of the top two floors saying “most of the demolition work has been
completed in preparation for the building’s metamorphosis.”
Exquisite stained glass survives throughout the lower floors. photo streeteasy.com/nyc |
Despite the outrage committed upstairs, the interiors of the
lower floors are astoundingly intact. The
oak-paneled dining room with stained glass and coffered ceiling; the pocket
doors and eccentric nooks all survive.
Relisted and sold in 2013 for just under $20 million, the once-abused
dowager has reclaimed her position as grand dame of the block.
photo by Alice Lum |
I highly recommend to you and your readers Mervin Roseman's wonderful book, "Forgery, Perjury and an Enormous Fortune- 2,303 Claimants to the Ella Wendel Estate (1931)". The first few chapters which recount the history of the huge Wendel Fortune and the unbelievably odd lives of the last generation of the family are priceless.
ReplyDeleteLooking back, whose to say the Wendel families lives were odd or not? Seems most of "society" outside the walls of their insulated family mansion has grown more and more disappointing, careless, disposable and reckless. Maybe their time capsule existencee is the one to be envious of after all? RT
ReplyDeleteI married into the Shirk family and upon my husbands death realized I had never known why some of the family silver had a W rather than the Shirk monogram. Now the mystery is solved. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteHi Anonymous I am researching the Wendels and would love to talk to you about your family connection to them through the Shirks. please email me at thewendelsbook@gmail.com Thanks!
DeleteI was a tenant at 249 CPW from 1978 to 2000, in the top floor front apartment, which had a gorgeous mirrored manteled fireplace. and molding. I’m sorry to hear that the floor and the floor beneath it were gutted. John Herget sold the house in 2000, not 2006, to a buyer who paid all the tenants to leave. Presumably, it was resold in 2006, and again in 2013.
ReplyDeletePS To my comment, the story doesn’t mention that the houses in the row were designed to be replicas of each other from the corner houses at 249 and 241 in toward the center house, which was singular. And it may be apocryphal, but the story I heard when I lived there was that two of the Wendel sisters, and then one, lived in the house until the last one died in 1957, not that it was boarded up until then.
ReplyDelete