On August 9, 1895 builder-architects McCafferty & Buckley filed plans for a “three story brick stable and dwelling” to be erected at No. 111 East 77th Street. Robert W. Buckley and Robert McCafferty had already been busy in the rapidly-developing area; putting up rows of townhouses and corresponding carriage houses.
Their choice of location made sense. Sitting between Fourth Avenue (later named
Park Avenue) and Lexington Avenue, it was close enough to the fine homes near
Central Park to be convenient; yet far enough away that wealthy homeowners were
not offended by noises and smells.
Similar carriage houses were appearing on the north side of the block;
while on across the street was the nurses’ training school of the German
Hospital and Dispensary.
The architects estimated the cost of the proposed structure
at $18,000—about half a million today.
That figure may have risen when the intended brick façade became instead
stone. The handsome gray graining of the
planar block of the upper floors suggests marble rather than the more expected
granite or limestone.
McCafferty & Buckley’s carriage house “and dwelling” was
completed the following year. It was an
income producing property for the partners and they retained ownership for four
years. And while similar structures
housed stable-related employees on the upper floors, rooms in the building at
No. 111 were leased to a variety of tenants of meager means. As the 19th century rolled over to
the 20th, only one occupant held a carriage occupation—apprentice coachman
George H. Thompson (just 16 years old).
All of the residents were black, born in the US, except
Irish immigrant Ellen McCarty who made her living as a laundress. The other three women in the building were
also laundresses; and there was one valet.
On October 3, 1900, about three months after the
census-taker recorded the mix of residents, The New York Times reported that
McCafferty & Buckley had sold the “three-story private stable” to Edward R.
Wharton. The wealthy Wharton who lived nearby at No.
884 Park Avenue at 78th Street paid a hefty $36,000 for the stable.
In 1885 he had married the former Edith Newbold Jones in a fashionable
society wedding. Wharton relished the
whirlwind of social seasons in Newport and Europe; in stark contrast to his
wife who disdained the conspicuous consumption and inane lifestyle of her
staggeringly-wealthy peers.
For about a decade following her marriage Edith Wharton
published poems and short stories; although Edward was mainly unimpressed with
her avocation. By the time the carriage
house was purchased, Edith was seeing some recognition as a writer. In 1897 she had begun writing The Decoration
of Houses and two years later The Greater Inclination, a collection of short
stories was published.
The deed to the 77th Street carriage house was apparently transferred to Edith’s name. On November 13, 1903 The New York Times reported that Edith Wharton had leased the stable to Edward T. H. Talmage.
Talmage lived at No. 969 Park Avenue at 82nd
Street. His passion for golf led to his
co-founding the Somerset Hills Country Club in Bernardsville, New Jersey in
1894. The Talmages maintained a
400-acre estate in New Jersey known as “Woodmere Farms.”
Edward Talmage used the carriage house for only a year. In 1904 Edith Wharton sold it to Francis
Burton Harrison and his wife. Mary
Burton Harrison was the former Mary Crocker, daughter of Colonel Charles Fred
Crocker of San Francisco, and heiress to the Crocker Bank and railroad fortunes.
The Harrisons had been married four years earlier. Mary’s personal wealth rivaled that of her
husband and Some Prominent Virginia Families noted that under Crocker’s will “the
daughter received a large fortune.” Her
portion of the estate was about $5 million.
The year that Harrison purchased the carriage house he
received the nomination for Lieutenant Governor at the Democratic State
Convention. The following year he was
elected to Congress. The couple lived at
No. 876 Fifth Avenue across from Central Park.
Although their coachman lived above the stable, evincing that the building was still used for horses and carriages; the Harrisons
owned motorcars, too, and a garage was maintained on West 58th
Street. On November 25, 1905 tragedy
struck when Mary was motoring in Long Island City. Her brother, Charles T. Crocker who was
studying at Yale, and two friends from San Francisco, Mr. and Mrs. Laurence I.
Scott, were visiting and the party was on their way to Hempstead Colony, Long
Island.
As the limousine headed down Thompson’s Hill (deemed by a
newspaper as “a favorite speedway for automobiles"), Scott and Crocker were
examining a road map while Mary and Mrs. Scott were talking and laughing. The chauffeur, Constant Ravert, turned and
said that something was wrong with the steering gear.
According to the Baltimore Sun, “The next instant the
machine swerved sharply. The chauffeur’s
frantic efforts to guide it back into the road were fruitless and the car plunged
toward a ditch at the side of the road, with a telegraph pole booming directly
in its course. It struck the pole a
glancing blow and then toppled into the ditch.”
Mary Burton Harrison was thrown under the car, her head
pinned down by the vehicle. Her neck was
broken. The Baltimore Sun reported “Former
Congressman Harrison was grief stricken to-night, remaining at the hospital
with the body of his wife.”
Harrison would hold on to the 77th Street
carriage house for years as his political stature grew. Unfortunately, so did his less-than-sterling reputation. According to historian Robert A. Fulton in
his Moroland, 1899-1906, “Handsome,
rich, and powerful, Harrison also gained a deserved and less-savory reputation
as an aggressive ladies man who targeted other men’s wives, particularly
attractive spouses of those equally rich and powerful. He went through six marriages in his
lifetime, four ending in divorce.”
In the meantime, the German Hospital and Dispensary moved
its facility in 1905 from the Lower East Side to the block where its nursing
school had stood for decades. As the
United States entered World War I, a name change was deemed advisable to
distance the hospital from the enemy abroad.
In July 1918 the medical facility directly across the street from the
Harrison carriage house was renamed Lenox Hill Hospital.
In 1920 Francis Burton Harrison sold the contents of the
Fifth Avenue mansion. On March 13 the
public was invited to the American Art Galleries to view the “costly antique
and modern furniture, Oriental rugs and other objects of household
embellishment and utility belonging to the estate of the late Mrs. Mary Burton
Harrison.” The following year, on April
21, 1921, he sold “the three-story garage” to Amy H. Weatherbee.
Amy was the widow of Edwin H. Weatherbee, the former head of
the dry goods firm Arnold, Constable & Co.
Weatherbee’s position with the emporium was no doubt influenced by the
fact that his wife was the daughter of Arnold Constable. The Weatherbees had been highly conspicuous
in society. Until his death in 1912 Edwin
bred and raced thoroughbreds and was a member of the Chamber of Commerce, New
York yacht Club, Riding Club, Metropolitan Club, Union League and the Yale
Club.
Throughout the 20th century the block of 77th
Street between Lexington and Park Avenues changed greatly. Lenox Hill Hospital expanded and enlarged
until it engulfed the entire block across the street. And yet the three-story carriage house
remained essentially unchanged above the ground floor.
Today the picturesque little building is part of Lenox Hill
Hospital—an unlikely survivor of a time when an emerging literary giant housed
her horses and elegant carriages here.
photographs taken by the author
so back then the New York Times basically reported on any all things architectural and high culture worthy? nice.
ReplyDeleteI walked by this a million times and now I am happy to have its backstory. Thanks, Tom. I love this blog.
ReplyDelete"Wharton" misspelled in Title.
ReplyDeleteOtherwise, please keep up the good work.
Interesting!
ReplyDeleteI am a new follower.