from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York
In 1880, Edward Cabot Clark embarked on a risky endeavor--the erection of the first-class apartment house on Central Park West that he would call The Dakota. His challenge was convincing potential residents that a multi-family building--considered at the time middle-class at best--could be appropriate to wealthy families. His solution was to provide apartments that were equal to upscale private homes.
The following year, eight millionaires formed the Berkshire Apartment Association to erect another high-end apartment building, The Berkshire. Among the shareholders were Alexander Guild; Fletcher Harper, of publishing firm Harper Brothers; and Edward M. Shepard, of the furniture company Stickney & Shepard. Carpentry and Building explained in September 1881, that it would be a co-operative and said, "It is expected that each of these shareholders will occupy one of the apartments in the Berkshire when the building is completed, and this apartment will be his property permanently." The other apartments, said the article, "are to be rented out."
The syndicate hired German-born architect Carl Pfeiffer to design the building. The nine-story structure was completed in 1883. Pfeiffer's tripartite, Queen Anne-style design sat upon a two-story granite base. The midsection was faced in "Croton pressed brick, with stone, terra cotta, and molded brick ornamentation," according to Carpentry and Building. It featured picturesque, paneled bays with curved sides. The top section harkened to 17th century England or Germany with half-timbering, gables and prominent chimneys. The flat roof was paved with tiles and "hanging gardens of flowers in ornamented boxes" lined the edges. Carpentry and Building said that from this "lofty promenade," residents could enjoy views of "Long Island, Long Island Sound, and the Palisades of the Hudson."
American Architect & Building News, August 3, 1883 (copyright expired)
The main entrance on Madison Avenue was accessed above a short, doglegged stoop. Servants and tradespeople used an entrance in the courtyard at the rear.
Complex Queen Anne-style upper panes included stained glass inserts. American Architect & Building News, December 22, 1888 (copyright expired)
The Berkshire held 17 apartments, two each per floor through the seventh, and three on the eighth. Each resident also had a second servant's room and a trunk room on the ninth floor. Carpentry and Building explained, "Each of these apartments will consist of a library, a dining room, a parlor, a kitchen, a bath-room, a laundry, a servants' room, abundance of closet room, and four bedrooms."
In the lobby was a marble staircase with "railings of colored marble," according to The American Architect and Building News on August 4, 1883, and two elevators--one for the residents and the other for servants. The gas fixtures in the apartments were designed to be easily converted to electricity in the future. The article said, "Every convenience known to modern improvement will be introduced in the house, which is intended to rival the Paris palais in elegance and comfort."
The basement level was outfitted for the janitor's apartment and rental offices for physicians. The owners of the Berkshire assured that there would be no offensive trashcans and odors. In the cellar was "an apparatus for cremating the refuse of the kitchen," said Carpentry and Building, which added, "No slop-barrels are to disfigure the sidewalk in front of the Berkshire. The refuse will all be dried by steam and then burned."
A typical floorplan, with two apartments per floor--left and right. The American Architect and Building News, January 17, 1891 (copyright expired)
Elevators in the 1880s, of course, did not have the safety measures we take for granted today. Many of them resembled ornate birdcages, their openwork structures presenting dangers to passengers wearing Victorian garments. On November 18, 1887, Winifred Egan visited a friend at the Berkshire. She never made it to the apartment. The Sun reported that she died from injuries resulting, "by having her dress caught in passing one of the floors while in the elevator." On January 20, 1888, a coroner's jury, "censured the proprietors of the house for employing an incompetent elevator boy."
Carl Pfeiffer's Queen Anne design carried into the interior, as well. American Architect & Building News, August 4, 1883 (copyright expired)
An early resident of the Berkshire was millionaire William Marsh Rice and his wife, the former Julia Elizabeth Baldwin, who went by her middle name. Elizabeth was Rice's second wife, the first having died. (Interestingly, Elizabeth's sister was the wife of William's brother, Frederick Rice.)
William Marsh Rice, from the collection of Rice University
Born in Springfield, Massachusetts in 1816, Rice's Horatio Alger-type story began as a grocery store clerk. By 1860 he was reportedly the wealthiest man in Houston, Texas, the owner or part-owner of real estate holdings, lumber firms, railroads, and cotton concerns. He and Elizabeth moved to New York in 1882. Their 160-acre country estate was in Dunellen, New Jersey.
According to historian J. T. McCants in his 1955 article, "85 Years of Capitalism: The Story of William M. Rice," the Rices' marriage "was stormy" by the 1890s. According to McCants, around 1892, Elizabeth "consulted an attorney, A. G. Allen, about a divorce." She would never obtain that divorce. A common method of removing a bothersome family member at the time was to have them committed. McCants said Elizabeth, "died in Waukesha, Wisconsin on 24 July 1896 hopelessly insane."
At the time of Elizabeth's death, Rice's estate was estimated at "about four million dollars," according to McCants. (The figure would translate to about $150 million in 2025.) His will, executed in 1891, directed that his massive fortune should be used to found the William M. Rice Institute for the Advancement of Literature, Science and Art in Houston, Texas.
Rice's valet, Charles F. Jones, had been with him since his Texas years. The cherished servant discovered the multimillionaire dead in his bed on September 23, 1900. The death certificate declared his demise the result of "old age and extreme nervousness." But three days later, The New York Times revealed the first hint that officials were suspicious in reporting, "His body was to have been cremated yesterday morning, but instead after funeral services had been held at the house...it was taken to the Morgue and an autopsy was performed."
American Architect & Building News published this depiction of a Berkshire parlor in August 4, 1833 (copyright expired)
The autopsy revealed that Rice "died of arsenical and mercurial poisoning," reported The Evening World on October 27. The case had proceeded rapidly and the article disclosed that Charles F. Jones, the trusted valet, and Albert T. Patrick, Elizabeth Rice's former lawyer, had been arrested for murder.
The trial, which became one of the most sensational for decades, revealed that Patrick had forged a new will that left a large portion to himself, and had persuaded Jones to assist in the murder. On June 9, 1905, The Evening World ran a banner, all-caps headline, "PATRICK TO DIE IN THE CHAIR." (Instead, however, in 1906 his sentence was commuted by Governor Frank Higgins and in 1912 he received a full pardon from Governor John A. Dix. Charles F. Jones was not charged.)
William Marsh Rice's fortune, as he intended, was used to found the William Marsh Rice Institute, known today as Rice University.
A ground-floor apartment was advertised for rent in October 1904. The advertisement described, "parlor, library, dining room, 3 family bedrooms, 3 servants' bedrooms, kitchen, etc.," The rent was $4,500 per year--a significant $13,250 per month in 2025 terms.
Among the well-heeled residents of the Berkshire at the time was stockbroker Franklin William Gilley. Born in 1840, he was elected to the Stock Exchange in 1864. Gilley was a member of F. W. Gilley, Jr. & Co. and had been treasurer of the New York Stock Exchange since 1895.
By the second decade of the 20th century, many of the mansions in the Madison Avenue neighborhood had been razed for commercial buildings. The Berkshire was now an architectural anachronism. On August 17, 1913, The Sun mentioned that "the apartment house known as the Berkshire, at 500 Madison avenue...is now being altered and modernized." And, indeed, it was. The renovations stripped the Berkshire of its charming Queen Anne personality. Without the oriels, gables and half-timbering, it looked as it had been erected a year earlier.
image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.
For about a decade, however, the building continued to be home to wealthy families. Their names routinely appeared in the society pages that reported on their travels, debutante entertainments, dinner parties and weddings. Then in 1925 the Berkshire was converted to an upscale residential hotel.
An advertisement in Town & Country on November 1, 1926 said, "to each and every heckled, non-plussed householder--The Berkshire will prove a revelation." The ad continued,
Never, does the cook "take a day off"...Never, does Basil, the butler, decide to locate in Chicago to be near his aunt...Never is it necessary to dismiss Marie for impertinence...Never, in fact, do any of those things that heckle and non-plus householders occur...An Arcadian town-house--The Berkshire.
The suites, "as large or small as you wish," were available either unfurnished or furnished. The furnished apartments had been decorated by B. Altman & Co. The ad stressed, "And everything--maid and valet service; electric light and refrigeration; meal service in your own rooms, is included in your rental!"
The Berkshire survived until 1953, when it was replaced by a 19-story and penthouse apartment house.
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