On December 21, 1896 The New York Times described the home of Aaron Goldsmith at No. 514 East 58th Street. The house was “of brownstone, three stories high, with a basement. One side of the house faced directly on the East River. In the front of the house was a bay window looking toward Riverview Terrace, which extends from Fifty-eighth Street to Sixty-second, along the river bank.”
The quiet neighborhood above the East River cliff was still
an upper middle-class enclave when The Times wrote its description. Goldsmith was a partner with Elias Hartman in
a liquor business at No. 45 Warren Street.
On the night of December 20, 1896, however, the little dead-end block
was anything but quiet.
Sometime after 7:00 that evening a servant girl, Mary Roska,
took the Goldsmith’s two daughters, 10-year old Bertha and 8-year old Hattie,
upstairs to bed. In the parlor were
Goldsmith, 45 years old, his 33-year old wife Clotilda, and their 6-year old
son, Frank. A piano lamp—the Victorian
version of a pole lamp—stood in the bay window, illuminating that section of
the room. The large lamp held more than a
gallon of oil.
The Goldsmiths’s peaceful evening was shattered when
suddenly the lamp exploded, throwing flaming oil throughout the parlor. The New York Times related the following
morning “A neighbor acquainted with the interior of the house said the fire
must have caught the portieres between the parlor and the hall, and from there
spread up stairs.”
Mary Roska had just tucked the little girls into bed and
started for the stairs to get little Frank.
She was stopped at the top of the staircase by a wall of flame. She ran to a rear window and jumped out,
landing two stories below in the rear yard.
Mary reentered the house and ran through the basement and out onto 58th
Street.
The fire fighters of Truck No. 2 were on the scene within
ten minutes; but it was too late. “Before
the fire had been extinguished the interior of the house was burned away,” said
The Times. “Only the walls and the first
floor remained.”
The three bodies on the first floor were burned beyond
recognition. “Mr. Goldsmith was
recognized by a diamond pin that he had worn in his shirtfront and which was
still on his body.” The newspaper said “Up
stairs on the next floor were found the bodies of the two little girls. They had evidently been undressed and in bed.”
The middle-class character of the block was evidenced by the
$5,000 damages to the Goldsmith home caused by the blaze—about $145,000 today.
But by the end of World War I much had changed. A
brewery operated nearby and the former private homes were operated as rooming
houses. The New York Times
unapologetically called the district “a slum.”
It was exactly the type of neighborhood where one would not expect to find a
millionaire. But far from Fifth
or Madison Avenue, it had potential only a few far-sighted pioneers could envision. The river views and cooling breezes
enjoyed by the Goldsmiths were still enticing—if only enough investors could be
found to transform the area.
A group, Sutton Square, Inc., was formed to buy up the 18 houses
that formed a horseshoe around a common garden. The enclave would become Sutton Place; while
the block long stretch of 58th Street that ended with the Goldsmith
house, would become Sutton Square.
Among the socially-important colonists were W. Seward Webb,
Jr., architect Eliot Cross, Robert C. Knapp, Frederick Allen, conductor Walter
Damrosch and Elisabeth Marbury. Another was Rosecrans Baldwin. On August 7, 1920 The New York Times noted
that he had purchased No. 514 East 58th from Sutton Square, Inc.
What was, in 1896, was a handsome private home was now
described by the Real Estate Record and Builders’ Guide as a “3-story stone
tenement.” The day after the
announcement in The Times, Rosecrans transferred the title to his wife, Helen;
as was common. The couple’s mortgage was
$20,000.
The Rosecrans house would be transformed according to common
restrictions. “The brownstone stoops,
the window ledges and other protrusions are to be cleaved off, leaving a
straight front to the outside world.
Architecturally the façade will be of the American basement style, which
has been popular in the Fifth Avenue district for the last decade."
The resultant home, designed by Mott Schmidt, could be
diplomatically termed “understated” and, at worst, “uninteresting.” Four stories of red brick were highlighted
only by two thin stone bandcourses and a pedimented centered doorway. While the neo-Georgian homes Schmidt
designed for Anne Morgan and Anne Vanderbilt would soon steal the show on
Sutton Place, the exterior of the Baldwin house drew little attention.
In March 1922 Helen Baldwin and the City of New York met in
court to decide who owned the cliff face that cascaded down to the river. The court’s decision that it was Baldwin
property would be a fateful one for the house two decades later.
In 1931 Lillie H. Havemeyer, purchased what was now No. 16
Sutton Square. Her choice made sense
since her two sisters, Anne Vanderbilt (widow of William K. Vanderbilt) and
Mrs. Stephen Olin already owned homes on Sutton Place. Her
mortgage of $51,000 reflected the increased property values.
Lillie Havemeyer filled the house with period antiques and
works of art. If the façade of the
Havemeyer home was blasé, the interiors made up for it. Dry
Goods Economist said of her “Mrs. Havemeyer, who was Miss Lillie Harriman,
is a sister of Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt.
She is almost as well known as a connoisseur and a woman of taste as she
is a leader of fashion.”
Among Lillie’s close companions was S. Ogden Ludlow, known
familiarly as “Luddy,” the estranged husband of Katherine Hepburn. According to biographer William J. Mann in
his Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn, “Havemeyer,
a well-traveled gadabout in her fifties, preferred cultured young homosexual men
as her escorts and Luddy, [Michael] Pearlman said, ‘fit that bill quite well.’”
In 1939 construction began on the massive FDR Drive project
below the cliffs of Sutton Place. Actress Marion Hopkins, who lived at No. 13 Sutton Place, told a reporter on October 15, 1939 “There was a nefarious plan
afoot to have the highway run parallel to our lawns. But those of us who own houses in Sutton
Place got together and paid to have the road covered over with grass.”
The revised plans preserved the exclusivity of the enclave
and the river views; but required dynamiting the solid stone cliff. Most of the homes sat far back from the cliff’s
edge. But that was not the case with
No. 16 Sutton Square.
The Commissioner of Borough Works, Walter Binger, sat with
Lillie Havemeyer and they came to an agreement.
The old house would be demolished and a new one constructed. On May 21, 1940 it was announced that architect
Dewitt C. Pond had filed plans for a four-story home costing $30,000; about
half a million in today’s dollars.
Pond’s design blended with the neighboring neo-colonial
facades. A simple columned portico
identified the main entrance and limestone quoins and lintels provided contrast
with the red brick. Across the street,
at No. 7 Sutton Square, a son was born to Aristotle Onassis and his wife, the
former Athina Livanos, on May 5, 1948.
By the time their second child, Christina, was born on
December 12 two years later, the Onassis family was living in No. 16 Sutton
Square. The New York Times described it
as “furnished in the Louis XVI period.”
The shipping tycoon had amassed the largest private fleet in
the world and his wealth was nearly unequaled.
His first years at No. 16 Sutton Place saw him entangled in court
battles over his questionable whaling operations off the coast of Peru.
He was distracted from legal troubles in 1954 when his
yacht, the Christina, was
launched. In 1948 he had purchased a
Canadian naval frigate, the Stormont,
for $34,000. Now it emerged as the most
lavish private yacht in the world—having cost Onasssis more than $4 million. It was outfitted with a formal library, a
staircase with a marble handrail and one fireplace faced in lapis lazuli. The Onassis suite had four bedrooms and a
bath of blue Sienna marble. There were
nine other suites for guests—people as dissimilar as Winston Churchilll, Greta
Garbo, John Wayne, John Paul Getty, Jacqueline Kennedy and Richard Burton. The floor of the mosaic-tiled swimming pool could
be raised to deck level, creating a dance floor.
The yacht would eventually end the Onassis marriage. It was on board the Christina that Onassis began his affair with opera star Maria
Callas. When Athinia (known as Tina)
discovered the indiscretion in 1960, she sued for divorce.
Little about No. 16 Sutton Square has changed. In 1989 it sold for $8.325 million. It continues to demand little outward
attention, preferring as always to reserve its true character to the inside.
uncredited photographs taken by the author
uncredited photographs taken by the author
Thanks for this interesting post. I didn't realize that the original house was designed by Mott B. Schmidt.
ReplyDeleteOther notable residents at this address have been the late Francis Goelet and John C. Whitehead. Mr. Goelet's brother, Robert G. Goelet, still lives around the corner at 7 Sutton Place.
The most magical & exquisite house in Manhattan.Sitting in vestpocket park directly below it looking at it on a glorious sunny Manhattan day. Oh to have the 18 million they are asking!
DeleteThis house appears to be situated directly over the FDR Drive, for reasons supplied in the blog post. Does this mean it has no basement? Is it subject to continual vibrations from traffic, as well as noise? More worrisome: is its structural integrity hostage to the notoriously poor maintenance of city infrastructure? Not hard to imagine a collapse.
ReplyDeleteBTW, the 'porticos' on the current house are hideously misproportioned as well as architecturally ungrammatical. No expert designer was on the job that day.
The house is not directly built above the FDR drive: there’s a small garden between the house and the river so the house’s basement is adjacent to the FDR Drive. I don’t know if there are vibrations and noise but hopefully, there’s no major risk. The main facade is rather basic but the “facade” facing the river is very beautiful and there’s a glass wall from the basement to the upper floor and a circular staircase can be seen from the river. The house has this private garden hidden by huge trees above the FDR Drive and a semi-private terrace at the rear. I haven’t see another house in Manhattan with such an unobstructed view and proximity to the river (i.e. no street between the house and the river). It’s a rather large house (circa 440 sqm) but smaller than some of the townhouses in Sutton Square. It really looks like a haven.
Delete