On July 16, 1920 the New-York Tribune reported that Sutton
Square, Inc. had sold the “three-story dwelling at 512 East Fifth-Eighth Street
to Dr. Foster Kennedy.” The news was
somewhat unexpected.
A group of wealthy urban pioneers that year had struck out
on a social experiment many thought preposterous. The remote neighborhood in the shadow of the
Queensboro Bridge included a brewery, tenement buildings and neglected
brownstones of the 1870s. Now
millionaires like W. Seward Webb, Jr. (whose mother was Lila Osgood Vanderbilt
and who was married to the daughter of Mayor Gaynor) and Eliot Cross (of the
architectural firm Cross & Cross) had formed Sutton Square, Inc. and, for
$100,000, purchased the 18 homes enclosing a common garden—the east side of
Sutton Place from 57th to 58th Street, and the southern
block of 58th Street from Sutton Place to the River.
The establishment of an exclusive residential “colony” in
what The New York Times referred to as “a slum” was shocking to many. But within months Dr. Robert Foster Kennedy (he rarely used his first name) would be joined
by buyers like Anne Vanderbilt, widow of William K. Vanderbilt; Anne Morgan, daughter of J. P.
Morgan; and conductor Walter Damrosch.
As reflected in the corporation’s name, the group intended the enclave
to be called Sutton Square, as it was for a short time. Eventually only the one-block section of 58th
Street would keep the name.
The New-York Tribune published a sketch of the houses that wrapped around the common garden. A steep embankment dropped to the East River in the foreground -- December 26, 1920 (copyright expired) |
The restraints on remodeling the Victorian homes were made
clear in the Sutton Square, Inc. deeds. “The
group is not to be razed, but entirely rebuilt.
Nothing will be left standing but the walls of the houses,” reported the
New-York Tribune on December 26, 1920. “The
brownstone stoops, the window ledges and other protrusions are to be cleaved
off, leaving a straight front to the outside world.”
The house Dr. Kennedy purchased had become operated as a
boarding house. In August 1900 Ashcan
School artist Robert Henri moved in.
Bruce Weber, in his Paintings of
New York 1800-1950, describes the Sutton Square neighborhood at the time.
“The artist’s flat overlooked the East River, was one block
from coal-loading piers, and was not far from the riverfront’s many
slaughterhouses as well as the city’s main garbage dump.”
When Dr. Kennedy purchased his brownstone, it retained its
58th Street address; but that would change before his renovations
were complete. The doctor commissioned H.
O. Milliken to transform the vintage structure. The young architect had graduated from
Princeton University in 1905, then immediately traveled to Paris to study. He now, like most of the architects working
on the Sutton Square houses, would turn to the American colonial period for
inspiration.
Three months after the purchase, the Real
Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported on the scope of the
renovations. “Remove stoop, entrance,
new plumbing, heating, electrical work, walls, vent shafts, flooring,
fireplaces, window, steps, openings in 3-story brick dwelling.” Milliken estimated the cost of the project at
$15,000—around $175,000 today.
The transformation, as with all the Sutton Place homes, was
remarkable. Milliken moved the entrance
to just below street level, originally the English basement. As a result the three-story house became four. Renumbered No. 14 Sutton Square, it was faced
in variously-colored brick laid in Flemish bond. Trimmed in white marble and limestone, the
neo-Federal townhouse featured splayed keystones; a row of arched openings,
each enclosing a blind tympanum, at the second floor; and a dormered mansard
behind a stone parapet.
The Irish-born doctor as he appeared around the time he purchased the home -- Leaders of the Twentieth Century, 1918 (copyright expired) |
Dr. Foster Fletcher moved into his new home from No. 20 West
50th Street with his wife, the former Katherine Caragol de la Terga
and their daughter Hessie Juana. The
35-year old neurologist was already internationally-known. Chief of Neurological Services at Bellevue
Hospital, he had recently worked with shell-shocked soldiers on the front of
World War I. During the conflict he
served as physician-in-chief of a French military hospital and later as a Major
of the Royal Army Medical Corps.
His 1918 study The Nature
of Nervousness in Soldiers directly contradicted the theories Sigmund
Freud. While Freud felt that shell shock
was psychosomatic; Kennedy called it a manifestation of hysteria—the internal
conflict between instinct for self-preservation and his herd instinct. He was a pioneer in the use of
electroconvulsive therapy in cases of psychosis, a leader in the study of
addictions, and lent his name to the Foster Kennedy Syndrome.
Foster and Katherine Kennedy would live in the Sutton Square
residence for decades. The doctor’s
prominence led to his name being publicized for the most minor issues—like the
newspaper article on March 17, 1937 that informed readers that Kennedy “was
found not guilty yesterday at a hearing before Magistrate Thomas A. Aurelio in
Traffic Court on a charge of having passed a red light on Jan. 18.”
The Kennedys were socially visible, rubbing shoulders with
Manhattan’s elite at concerts, summer resorts and dances. Katherine threw herself into war relief
efforts as World War II erupted in Europe.
Violinist Efrem Zimbalist gave a Carnegie Hall recital in December 1940
for the cause; and on December 19 The Times noted “in the interest of the
Zimbalist concert, Mrs. R. Foster Kennedy will give a tea Friday at her home.” On the night of the recital, the Kennedys
gave a dinner, “taking their guests later to the concert by Efrem Zimbalist,
violinist, at Carnegie Hall.”
Katherine’s polite entertainments included participation in
the East Side Garden Tours. In 1942 she
teamed up with next door neighbor Mrs. Kenneth Taylor, who lived at No. 12, to
serve tea in the gardens for the ladies on the tour.
At the time, however, the Kennedy name carried with it a
taint; at least for some. Dr. Kennedy
was President of the Euthanasia Society of America and his theories regarding
mercy killings were considered radical and shocking to many Americans. Especially after the revelation of the
horrors of Nazi Germany, public favor for the practice had diminished. Dr. Foster Kennedy was unmoved by the war
atrocities, which he found unrelated.
He argued that the lives of persons “born defective” should
be ended, saying this was the most humane treatment they could receive. In 1942 he published an article in the
journal of the American Psychiatric Association supporting the killing of
retarded children over five years old.
He referred to them as “those hopeless ones who should never have been
born—Nature’s mistakes.”
Nevertheless, Kennedy’s fame among the medical community and
his expert speaking skills outweighed the his questionable stance on the issue. The
New York Times called him “a scholar and a wit, connoisseur and philosopher, an
accomplished orator and raconteur.” The
newspaper said “The medical fraternity came to regard him as a modern version
of a Delphic oracle who always could be counted upon to highlight the essence
of a subject with a trenchant quotable phrase.”
On December 30, 1952 Kennedy “was stricken at his home, 14
Sutton Square,” according to The Times, and taken to Bellevue Hospital. He died there on January 7, exactly one month
before his 58th birthday. In
October Katherine leased the furnished mansion to John R. Riley, Jr.
By 1956 it had become home to attorney Walter D.
Fletcher. His wife, Eleanor Langley
Fletcher, was the former wife of James H. Van Alen—a well-known figure in
Newport society. As it had been when the
Kennedys lived here, No. 14 was the scene of brilliant entertainments, often
for the benefit of organizations like the United Fund Committee.
When No. was placed on the market in 1991 for just under $3
million, realtors listed five bedrooms, a wine cellar and library among its features. A gem tucked away on a nearly unknown block,
it recalls the description of Sutton Place anticipated by a New-York Tribune
writer in 1920 “old-fashioned brick and other materials will make a picture
such as artists paint of corners of ancient cities of the world.”
photographs by the author
Thanks for this post on no. 14 Sutton Square.
ReplyDeleteGrew up close by, so I am very familiar with the Sutton Square, Sutton Place, and Riverview Terrace townhouses.
The architectural history of no. 16 Sutton Square, pre-and post- FDR Drive construction, is particularly interesting, but so too are various historical aspects of every single townhouse address in that enclave.
There is a wealth of research material there.
Thanks for your very interesting posts on Sutton Square and Sutton Place townhouses. I am particularly interested in No. 16 Sutton Square and would welcome a post on this. Good pictures of No. 16 are hard to find on the Internet.
ReplyDelete