In 1858 Frederick Law Olmstead and Calvert Vaux began construction
on the ambitious Central Park project. Along the
eastern side of the grounds ran the still-unpaved Fifth Avenue. And branching away from the avenue, far to the
north of Manhattan’s fashionable residential district, the side streets saw
spotty development.
Throughout the next decade quaint wooden cottages appeared. All similar,
they sported front porches where the residents no doubt took advantage of the
summer breezes each evening. One of
these was No. 3 East 83rd Street, a two-story clapboard house with
an English basement. The roof of the
deep porch was balustraded and most likely doubled as a “sleeping porch” during
the summer heat.
Henry C. Houghton had spent the Civil War years in the
South. Born in Boston on January 22,
1837, one of 14 children, he had been teaching physical culture and natural
sciences in the North Yarmouth Academy “fitting school” for Bowdoin College, in
Yarmouth, Maine, when the war broke out.
In March 1863 he volunteered for service in the United
States Christian Commission and was sent to Fredericksburg. Following the Battle of Stone River he was
detailed to Nashville and put in charge of the Commission’s post there. The American University Magazine later
recalled “The strain of the duties in these positions was tremendous, and
although of indomitable perseverance and endurance, he broke down with
typho-malarial fever at Nashville, and, after a brief rest, was stationed at
the Depot Field Hospital, at City Point.”
After the fall of Richmond,
Houghton went there “while it was still burning” and helped transfer prisoners
to the transports.
Following the end of the war Houghton returned to New York
City in 1865. In 1867 he was graduated
from New York University and the following year he married Mary Ella Pratt whom
he knew from Yarmouth, Maine. The couple
moved into the little wooden house at No. 3 East 83rd Street.
In 1870 he was appointed Professor of Physiology in the New
York Homoeopathic Medical College and Hospital; and professor of Physiology in
the New York Medical College and Hospital for Women. Both he and Mary Ella participated actively
in charitable causes. From 1867 to 1869
Dr. Houghton was connected with the Five Points House of Industry, in Manhattan’s
most infamous slum; and Mary Ella would become President of the Home for the
Friendless.
Dr. Henry C. Houghton -- The American University Magazine November 1894 |
Within the next few decades the once-rural area around the
Houghton house would drastically change.
On March 30, 1880 the Metropolitan Museum of Art opened its new facility
on the Park side of Fifth Avenue, visible from the East 83rd Street
porch. Further south, grand mansions of New York’s wealthiest
citizens had already begun inching up the avenue.
Records of the residents of No. 3 East 83rd
Street are sketchy at best throughout the last quarter of the 19th
century. Like the Houghtons, however,
they were financially comfortable enough to afford domestic help. On May 16, 1891 an advertisement appeared in
The Sun: “Young Girl for light
housework.”
In 1902, when the Metropolitan Museum’s monumental new Beaux
Arts edifice was completed, the family of Frank O. Roe was living in No.
3. Roe was a banker with the Leather
Manufacturers’ National Bank. Son Irving L. Roe had graduated from Princeton in 1897 and the family routinely
summered at the fashionable Lakewood, New Jersey.
The house was the scene of the marriage of Mrs. Roe’s cousin, Marion Bache
to Brooklynite Hampton Howell on March 21, 1907. Because Marion’s father was deceased, Frank
Roe gave her away. The New York Times
remarked “The house was decorated with Spring flowers, including tulips, roses,
ferns, and palms.”
The Roes retained possession of the house at least until
1917. It appears they leased it briefly
to actress and theater owner Maxine Elliott.
The stage star came and went from New York to Europe routinely. In 1914 playwright Catherine Chisholm Cushing
told a reporter from Theatre Magazine “It was Maxine Elliott who gave me the
first actual encouragement I ever received as a dramatist.”
Cushing related her disappointment at being rebuffed by
agents and producers. Then “I wrote a
play about a woman who had married and borne children and ‘let herself go.’ She allowed her talents to become dim. All
her accomplishments lapsed. She seemed
to care not at all for how she looked. I
called it ‘The Peacock and the Goose.”
She sent it to Maxine Elliott, who owned the Maxine Elliott Theatre at No. 109 West 39th Street and preferred to stage works by
women. Four days later Cushing received
a letter from Maxine, who was playing in Chicago.
“I love your play.
The freshness and brightness of it have charmed me. I want to see you and talk about it as soon
as I come to New York. I shall be at my
town house, No. 3 East Eighty-third Street on Sunday, and will hope to see you.”
Catherine Chisholm Cushing saw Maxine in the library of the
little house. She described it saying “You’ve
seen it, the lovely open fireplace and the room that, like the house, looks so
much like her?”
By the time Catherine Chisholm Cushing talked business with
Maxine Elliott, the neighborhood was filled with opulent mansions. But the architectural version of the country
mouse somehow had survived. Following
the Roe family, the house would have a relatively rapid succession of residents.
photographs form the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult&VBID=24UAYWJ95BQR&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894 |
Until 1927 Melissa Salisbury lived in the house, followed by
Katherine E. Day. Katherine would never marry;
instead she devoted her life to teaching.
She was quickly followed by J. P. Taylor Armstrong and his family who
moved in by 1932. The Armstrongs had a
summer house in New London, Connecticut.
An avid golfer, Armstrong was President of the Shenecossett Club.
During the Depression years the Federal Writers’ Project published
a series of travel guides, including the 1939 New York City Guide. In
writing about the Metropolitan Museum of Art, it told readers “and just across
the avenue, at 3 East Eighty-third Street, amid a row of mansions, is an
incongruous, two-story frame house with a horseshoe nailed above its door.”
Unfortunately for the clapboard house, by mid century its
real estate value along with that of the two matching brownstone mansions at Nos. 7
and 9 and the vacant lot at No. 5 far outweighed charm and history. In 1953 the family of Leonard E. Bruce was living
in the white-painted house with its shady porch and little front yard.
When this father showed the quaint little house to his son its time was nearly at an end -- photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the New York Public Library |
On March 19 that year The New York Times wrote “The buds on
the shrubbery outside the old frame house at 3 East Eighty-third Street, just
off Fifth Avenue, are sprouting hard.
And well they may, for next year they and the house itself will be
gone. The City’s growth, which has
struck all around them, is about to replace them and neighborhood structures
with a twelve-story apartment building, with penthouse.”
The 16-story cooperative white-brick building designed by H.
L. Feldman that replaced the old structures was completed in 1955 and survives
today. All memory of the little “incongruous”
wooden house with the horseshoe above its door is long forgotten.
"All memory of the little 'incongruous' wooden house with the horseshoe above its door is long forgotten."
ReplyDeleteAll memory? Then how can you write about it??
I enjoyed the story and tour, nonetheless. I guess the Rennett and Flanagan houses on 93rd are of about the same era.
The 93rd Street houses are indeed of the same period.
Deletebest post ever...In the Warren and Wetmore book I noticed the house beside the fifth avenue apartment, never knew anyone would have info on it
ReplyDeleteWow! Love this story. My dad who is now 81 worked as an electrician on the HI Feldman building at 1025. I live nearby in a different HI Feldman building and had no idea what was there before!.
ReplyDelete