The 78th Street block between Fifth and Madison Avenues had greatly changed as the 19th century drew to a close. At the southeast corner of Madison and 78th Street the row of four-story brownstones, erected three decades earlier, were being eclipsed by elegant limestone and marble mansions that spilled east from Central Park.
Although the vintage rowhouses were comparatively modest—a mere
16-feet wide—the increased property values of the block became evident when “Mr.
Barnum” sold No. 28 East 78th Street in 1897 for $35,000. The price tag would equate to just under $1
million in 2016.
Millionaire Philip Ashton Rollins accumulated several of the old brownstones and begin plans for a lavish mansion. In 1901 he commissioned architects McKim,
Mead & White to design his new palace.
The firm put William Mitchell Kendall in charge of the project. He produced a dignified neo-Georgian mansion
of red brick and limestone which sat on a rusticated stone base.
The Colonial Revival movement had taken root within the last
decade, resulting not only in reproduction furniture but residential
architecture that mimicked America’s earliest structures. The trend resulted in other Manhattan homes
like the massive Andrew Carnegie mansion and the Willard D. Straight house.
The American Architect & Building News, May 12, 1906 (copyright expired) |
The Rollins house was completed in 1902. Five stories tall, it was described by critic
Herbert Croly as “a building with an air of great elegance and distinction.” A handsome columned portico sheltered the
entrance and provided a roomy balcony at the second floor, where the
socially-important drawing room was situated.
Writing in the Architectural Record, Croly explained “The
importance of the second floor…is brought out by the arched openings, connected
at their springing by a band of cut stone and adorned in the recess of the arch
by elaborate festoons.” He pointed out that
the private, and therefore less “important,” floors above had increasingly shorter
openings. Finally the fifth floor was hidden from view
by an elegant stone balustrade.
The mansion replaced brownstone rowhouses like those on either side. Architectural Record, June 1903 (copyright expired) |
Croly mentioned the top floor in socially-supercilious
terms. “There is a fifth story; but like
all the other fifth stories, it simply does not figure in the design at all,
even less than the servants who doubtless very largely occupy it, figure in the
lives of the inhabitants of the house, except as a convenience.”
Philip Ashton Rollins’s background was nearly unique among
Manhattan millionaires. When he was just five years old his father, a railroad tycoon, moved the family from New Hampshire
to Wyoming. Despite his privileged
circumstances, he grew up among cowboys and cattle. His intimate familiarity with Western life
would define his legacy.
Rollins attended Princeton, Columbia and New York
Universities and was admitted to the bar in 1895, the same year he married
Beulah Brewster Pack. Although he sold
off the cattle ranches he had inherited from his father; he continued to collect Western
lore. He later explained that the
depiction of the West that Americans received through motion pictures disturbed
and annoyed him.
“I wanted to show that the West was not as wild as it was
painted,” he told a reporter. “Princeton
is a great deal wilder. In many ways the
West was as conventional as the Knickerbocker Club. I’d walk into any cow camp sooner than I’d
cross the Princeton campus the night the juniors take over the steps.”
Philip and Beulah Rollins, would live in the 78th
Street mansion for decades. While
Rollins amassed an enormous library of Western Americana (it would eventually
total over 3,000 volumes); Beulah filled the role of Manhattan socialite. The house was, as expected, the scene of
luncheons, receptions, teas and dinner parties.
In 1922 Rollins's role of collector of Western literature
progressed to author. He published The Cowboy, His Characteristics, His
Equipment and his Part in the Development of the West that year. It was an authoritative effort to give
American readers a true-life depiction of Western life. He
issued an updated edition in 1936 explaining in the preface “In this new
edition the text has been much enlarged as concerns branding, roping,
trail-driving, riding of bucking horses, social customs, technical terms and
old-time slang.”
His passion for the subject resulted in the 1927 Jinglebob: A True Story of a Real Cowboy, the
1939 book Gone Haywire; Two Tenderfoots
on the Montana Cattle Range in 1886, and magazine articles and pamphlets.
After more than four decades in the mansion, in 1945 the
aging couple left Manhattan. Rollins was
now 76-years old. He and Beulah moved
permanently to their Princeton, New Jersey estate. His massive compilation of Western books was
given to Princeton University Library.
The 78th Street mansion was purchased by the
Automobile Club of New York. All five floors were converted for office
use. The new clubhouse was officially
opened on October 31, 1946 with the ribbon-cutting done by Governor Thomas E.
Dewey.
Dewey took the opportunity to announce his intentions to
improve roadways. Decades before the
first interstate highway systems were initiated, he warned that most of the New
York thoroughfares were built for “the model T Ford era” and declared that “extensive
road construction is vitally needed to meet modern travel requirements.”
To emphasize the Governor’s point, Automobile Club President
William J. Gottlieb pointed to the increase of drivers since the end of the
war. In October 1945 there were 41,300
members in the Automobile Club of New York.
A year later membership had increased to 92,500.
The Automobile Club of New York pressed for highway safety
and improved laws. It was the resource
for American motorists for maps and travel information (like hotels and
vacation spots). The Club sponsored an
annual National Safety Poster contest for school children.
Not all the efforts of the Automobile Club were appreciated by everyone. Down the block from the headquarters was Doris
Duke’s sumptuous mansion at No. 1 East 78th Street. The heiress preferred that the curb in front
of her home was not sullied with automobiles not owned by her. So she had No Parking signs erected.
Not only did motorists assume that the signs were officially
posted; apparently so did at least one traffic cop. When he noticed a car parked in front of the
Duke mansion he issued a summons. “This
led to the investigation by [The Automobile Club of New York]
which wrote to the Traffic Department for a definition of the right of way,”
reported The New York Times.
The Club’s prompting resulted in a ruling by Traffic
Department to have Doris Duke’s signs removed.
The headstrong and fabulously wealthy woman was, no doubt, not pleased
with her neighbors at the opposite end of the block.
It was, however, the Automobile Club which was the target of
an investigation two decades later.
Consumer advocate Ralph Nader discovered that the organizations five top
officers, its general consul and two retired directors were principals in a
private automobile insurance agency which they portrayed to members as
being a part of the club.
The insurance company, Club Agency, Inc. had offices in the
78th Street building, and the Automobile Club regularly referred
members to the agency. Nader’s
spokesman, Ron Landsman, called the arrangement “at least unethical.” Club director Leo T. Kissam countered, simply
saying “Mr. Landsman is a wacky bird.”
The American Automobile Association moved out of the former
Rollins mansion in 1990. The building
received a $1 million renovation that resulted in a combination art gallery and
museum, headed by art dealer Chozo Yoshii, Milwaukee gallery owner Michael
Lord, and French curator Jacques Demons.
The New York Times said on May 12, 1991 they had teamed up “to lease the
building and turn it from a temple of automobile to a palace of art. They have named their effort Elysium Arts.”
The gallery opened in May 1991 with an exhibition of Monet
paintings. Although the valuable
canvases were not listed for sale; Michael Lord told The Times “that offers
will be considered.”
The last of the 16-foot Victorian brownstones survives next door, its stoop long ago removed. |
The building remained an art gallery through 1998, when it
was purchased by Arthur Carter, owner of the New York Observer for $7.6
million. He resold it in 2006 for $34
million, making an unarguably tidy profit.
Although the mansion still contains offices throughout; it remains
externally unchanged since the days when Philip Rollins filled its library with
rare books on Western life and Beulah served tea to Mrs. Hamilton R. Fairfax of
the Colonial Dames.
photographs by the author
When I visited Manhattan years ago, this building and S-Fish mansion were both covered in scaffolding. I think it is so interesting how short this mansion is, in the floorplans it only has 2 to 6 rooms a floor, and that's including bathrooms.
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