Showing posts with label 1016 madison avenue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1016 madison avenue. Show all posts

Saturday, April 20, 2019

The Merwin, Hulbert Building - 26 West 23rd Street




The 27-foot wide residence erected by William P. Earle at No. 26 East 23rd Street in 1853 was intended for a wealthy family.   It would sit among the mansions of millionaires like Benjamin Nathan, William Schermerhorn, James Constable and Charles A. Baudouine.  It is unclear if Earle, who was both an architect and a builder, lived in the new house.  It was one of many properties his family would own for decades.

Whoever moved in, they came to an amicable parting of ways with one servant soon after.  She placed an advertisement in The New York Herald on April 3, 1854 that read: "Wanted--By a respectable young woman, a situation as a seamstress, in a private family.  She understands perfectly all kinds of plain sewing and is very handy with her needle.  Can be seen for two days at her present employer's, No. 26 West Twenty-third street."

The decade following the end of the Civil War saw significant change along West 23rd Street.  One-by-one the ground floors of once lavish homes were being converted to commercial spaces.  In 1875 the upper floors of No. 26 were being operated as a boarding house.  An advertisement in The New York Herald on September 10 that year offered "A suit of elegant rooms.  Also single rooms to let, at No. 26 West Twenty third street, with first class Board, to families and gentlemen."

The following year W. H. Lee was running his furniture store from the English basement level.  Before the decade ended a cast iron facade would replace the brownstone, completely disguising the fact that the property had once been an upscale home.

In January 1887 William P. Earle modernized the structure by hiring N. Le Brun & Son to do interior renovations, including installing a shaft for a new elevator.  Three months later, on April 1, Merwin, Hulbert & Co. signed a lease for "the entire store, building and premises known and distinguished as No. 26 West Twenty-third Street."  The annual rent reflected the bustling commercial thoroughfare that West 23rd Street had become.  The $11,500 per year rent would top $300,000 today.

The firm was formed in 1876 by Joseph Merwin and William and Milan Hulbert.  It designed and manufactured firearms as well as importing firearms and related goods.  By the time the company moved into the 23rd Street building, it had diversified into sporting goods--like the rabidly-popular bicycle.


The firm not only marketed guns, but sporting goods like Indian Clubs and Boxing Gloves.

Joseph Merwin died in 1888, only months after signing the lease.  On January 1, 1892 the company name was changed to Hulbert Brothers & Company.  

The bicycling craze, known as wheeling, swept the nation.  Club of "wheelmen" were organized and wheelers of both sexes filled the paths and drives of city parks.


from the collection of the New York Public Library

On August 3, 1888 Merwin, Hulbert & Co. took out a full-page ad in The Wheel and Cycling Trade Review announcing that a representative of Gormully & Jeffrey Mfg. Co. of Chicago, "the largest Cycle Manufacturers in this Country" would be in its showrooms for the next two weeks.  The purpose of his visit was "to illustrate practically to all wheelmen who will call, the Great Superiority of the 'American Cycles' over all others."  The announcement urged "Wheelmen, give us a call while Mr. Schaaf is here"


Bicycling was not an inexpensive hobby.  This "Roadster" cost the equivalent of nearly $2,400 today.  Good Roads magazine, July 1893, (copyright expired)
By the spring of 1896 Hulbert Brothers & Co. had branched out into sports apparel as well.  An advertisement in the Corland Evening Standard on March 7 that year not only marketed the Mesinger Rattan Saddle ("correct for stead riding resting or scorching") and the Hulbert Pneumatic Brake, but the Hulbert Bicycle Skirt.  The ad promised that the innovative apparel could "change from riding to walking length in a second."

The diversification may have had to do with shaky business.  The Financial Panic of 1893 had caused the failure of banks and businesses nationwide.  In 1894 Hulbert Brothers had declared bankruptcy and in 1896 closed its doors.

The store now became home to society stationers Dempsey & Carroll.  The company provided high-end calling cards, menus, dinner cards (the beautifully-inscribed table tents or cards which announced which guests sat where), invitations and other indispensable paper goods to Manhattan socialites.  On May 8, 1900 the New-York Tribune commented "For the rush of June weddings which New-Yorkers will witness this year Dempsey & Carroll, the well known artistic stationers have prepared several new forms of fashionable invitation cards."


The Evening Telegram, October 13, 1900 (copyright expired)

In fact, the following year, on October 13, 1901, the newspaper said "to many readers of The Tribune 'marriage' has come to be associated with the firm of Dempsey & Carroll...Few persons have any idea of the scope and magnitude of this business or of the many stage through which, for instance, a simple order for a visiting card goes, and the care given at every point to its artistic execution."

That year Dempsey & Carroll published an illustrated booklet that guided the novice through the intricacies of social etiquette related to cards and stationery.  It included "the correct forms for marriage invitations, card and announcements, [with] examples beautifully engraved being given from the immense number prepared every season."

A rather unusual tenant upstairs at the time was Woodbury, who seems to have cautiously avoided the title "doctor."  His advertisement in The Evening Telegram on October 13, 1900 assured the reader that he had "studied the skin for 30 years."  His expertise was not only the curing "pimples, blackheads and eruptions" (which were "a sure sign of wrong living"), but the patient's inherit personality flaws.  

"A pug nose means a pert, saucy nature--one quick to take offence; suppose Woodbury changes the pug to a prepossessing aquiline?  A mole on the right foot indicates wisdom.  If Woodbury removes the mole will you know less?"

In August 1902 the estate of William P. Earle leased the building "for a long term of years" at annual rent of $25,000--or around $735,000 today.   The tenant was the Hyde Exploring Expedition company, marketers of Native American crafts.

The buying agents for the Hyde Exploring Expedition Indian Goods store negotiated with Native Americans, like the Louisana Chitimacha tribe, which produced baskets sold in the 23rd Street store.   The firm also published The Papoose here, a magazine that not only advertised its products, but ran articles about Native American life, culture and arts.



While, arguably, The Hyde Exploring Expedition exploited the Native American craftsmen, most notably the women who wove the textiles and baskets; The Papoose lobbied for their better treatment.  And yet the inherent racism of the early 20th century seeped into even those laudable efforts.  In the April 1903 issue, for instance, and article entitled "Am I My Brother's Keeper?" said in part:

The negro was here of our own bringing.  What of the Indian?  His was the broad land by right of ownership, and the coming of the white man wrested the land from his grasp by right or might.  Our great and good government takes care of the negro, appoints him to office, places him in high positions, gives to him authority over his onetime masters.  What of the Indian?  What return is given his for the rights wrested from him?...He is subjected to the humiliation of receiving alms at the hands of his captors.

Prices for authentic Native American goods were not cheap.  Navajo blankets in 1903 were priced at as much as $50; more than $1,400 today.  Baskets were more affordable, going for about $5.


Moccasins were marketed as "The Ideal House Slipper."  The Papoose, May 1903 (copyright expired)

The Hyde Exploring Expedition would remain in the building until 1907 when the Earle estate leased it to Ferrin & Co.  Run by Louis V. Ferrin and Louis A. Doullet, they sublet spaces to several tenants, such as the Van Orden Corset Co. and the Perrin Glove Store.


New-York Tribune, October 13 1907 (copyright expired)
The Perrin Glove Store provided ladies with the various types of gloves necessary for different social events.  In the summer of 1908 a pair of "20-button silk gloves" were priced at $2.25 (nearly $62 today); while 16-button gloves were slightly less expensive at $1.75.   The store also offered stockings: "Women's fine thread Silk black, tan and colors, double sole, heel and toe" for $2.25.

Both women's and men's winter wardrobes required furs and in 1910 the Hudson Bay Importing Co. moved in.   Founded in 1890, the company proclaimed "We sell furs and furs only."  

Because of that, the selling season for Hudson Bay Importing Company ran from about September through January.  As the selling season drew to an end in its new home, the firm announced its "clearance sale" on January 15, 1911.  "Everything must go and will go, and is sure to go.  We carry no furs over; $500,000 of the finest furs at clearance sale prices."

Included in the sale were "minks, sables, fishers, raccoon, ermine, fox, silver fox, &c., &c."  Still left in stock to be liquidated were a few Caracul Coats, "52-inch garments--the latest Parisian models--lined with heavy brocade; jewelled buttons" and Black Fox Sets, described as the "most magnificent shawl or animal scarf and beautiful pillow muff."  The coats had been priced earlier at $150 (about $4,000 today) and were now half price.

The store was restocked for the coming season by the end of summer.  A Hudson Bay Company ad in The Evening Telegram on September 24 announced "An Exhibition of Furs (new models) at their New Building 26 West 23d Street."

The firm remained here until December 1918 when it, like so many high-end retailers, moved northward along Fifth Avenue.  Its advertisement in The Evening Telegram that month announced its entire $650,000 stock would be sold for $325,000 in a three-day sale.

The building's owners, now Daby & Co., Inc., hired architect Harry Hurwitz to completely remodel the architecturally dated structure.  His plans called for "addition of one story, mezzanine balcony and general alterations."  The "general alterations" included an entire new front.

Completed in 1920, the $20,000 in renovations resulted in a clean, white terra cotta facade, now six stories tall.  Vast expanses of glass flooded the interior spaces.  Hurwitz gave the building a neo-Tudor touch with a crenellated parapet and heraldic terra cotta shield.

New tenants included the French Merchandise Company, which took the third floor in May 1920, and James M. Shaw, pottery, glass and china dealer.  Shaw's was typical of the stores along the block which had become the center of the china and glass district.  Next door, at No. 18, for instance, Charles Hall, Inc. took over the entire building the same year for his "china, glassware and general household goods," store.

Among the best known of these firms was Theodore Haviland & Co.  Founded by American importer David Haviland in the 1830's, it expanded into manufacturing when David moved to France in 1842.  The American set up his factory in Limoges, turning out high-end porcelain products which he shipped back to American to be sold by his brothers.

In 1891 Charles Edward Haviland and his brother, Theodore, had parted ways.  Two years later Theodore Haviland began his own firm, known as Theodore Haviland, Limoges.  The siblings and their respective companies were bitter rivals until Charles's death in 1921.

Theodore Haviland & Co. was in No. 26 at least by 1926 and would remain here for decades catering to the carriage trade, even while other china stores moved up Fifth Avenue.  Finally, in 1951, it too relocated.


The "H" in the shield was most likely added after Haviland moved into the building.
The 23rd street block was no longer a fashionable shopping area, as reflected in the new tenant at No. 26.  On February 23, 1952 Billboard magazine announced "Mills Sales Company, after 26 years, has decided to move uptown to the heart of the novelty and toy district.  Their new home will be located at 26 West 23d Street (fourth floor) where they will occupy larger quarters."  

Mills Sales Company dealt in cheap "novelties, gifts, sundries, toys and housewares."  It would remain here for several years, advertising in Billboard on June 23, 1956 as "Cut Rate Wholesalers since 1916."  That ad touted "magic rain bonnets in plastic pouch."  A dozen would cost the buyer $1.50.



A renovation completed in 1986 resulted in offices above the ground floor store.  Whatever Harry Hurwitz's store front was in his 1920 re-do, there is nothing left of it today.  Nevertheless, the surprising and romantic terra cotta commercial building survives essentially intact since then.

photographs by the author

Saturday, December 15, 2018

The Erastus C. Benedict House - 10 West 10th Street




In 1844 John Thompson began construction of a 26-foot wide home at No. 10 West 10th Street.  Completed the following year, it was designed in the currently popular Greek Revival style.  A rusticated brownstone basement level upheld three floors of red brick.  Stone lintels and sills complimented the hefty Greek Revival entrance.

It is unclear if Thompson ever lived in the stylish new residence; but by the 1850's it was home to the William Roberton family.  It was the scene of a heart-breaking funeral of the Robertons' two-and-a-half year old daughter, Margaret on February 16, 1858.

At the time Erastus Cornelius Benedict was a well-known and highly-respected citizen.  Born in Branford, Connecticut on March 19, 1800, his ancestors had landed in Massachusetts Bay in 1638.  An attorney, he had been elected a member of the Common Council of the city in 1840; was elected a regent of the Free Academy in 1855, and to the lower house of the State Legislature in 1848 (he would be re-elected in 1864).  He would serve as the president of the Board of Education, was a member of the Executive Committee of the New-York Historical Society, had helped incorporate the Apollo Association "for the promotion of the fine arts," and was a director of the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb.

Benedict's important political and social status was in clear evidence on February 20, 1861 when the newly-elected President Abraham Lincoln was in town.  While he was tied up meeting with political figures, Mary Todd Lincoln held a reception in the Astor House.  Among her guests was Erastus Benedict.

It was around this time that Benedict and his wife, Caroline, moved into No. 10 West 10th Street.  Like those of their neighbors, the Benedicts' interiors would have been furnished luxuriously--rosewood tables with marble tops, French-manufactured carpets and rich fabrics.

Benedict's nephew, Abner, enlisted in the State Militia at the onset of Civil War.   He distinguished himself for leadership and valor.  After being seriously wounded--shot through the lungs at Fredericksburg on December 13, 1862--he refused to leave military service.  Even when his health began to fail, he steadfastly continued as General Grant's headquarters guard.  He died of complications from the wound on May 15, 1867, five years after being shot.

His body was brought to the West 10th Street house and the following day The New York Times reported "The funeral will take pace under military escort from the residence of his uncle...on Saturday, the 18th, at 10 A.M."

The Benedicts, described by The New York Herald as among "the most prominent people of the city," entertained J. P. Meehan, the editor of The Irish American, on the night of February 29, 1870.  Meehan's outspoken views on Irish independence placed him at odds not only with the British government, but with loyal English expatriates here.  His was a dangerous stance.

Around 11:00 that night Meehan left.  As he descended the stoop he noticed several men on the dimly-lit block.  As he walked briskly toward Broadway, he passed them, one of who he recognized as Dr. James Kiernan.  Seconds later he fell to the pavement with a bullet wound in the back of the neck.  Meehan survived what The New York Herald described as a "dastardly attempt at murder."  The newspaper credited heavenly powers with his recovery.  "The attempt proved nearly fatal--Mr. Meehan's preservation from the deadly bullet and more deadly intent being singularly providential."

Another highly disturbing event occurred the following year.  As Police Officer Dunn walked by the house around 8:00 on November 26, 1871, he noticed an infant under the stoop.  It is possible the mother left the newborn at the service entrance in hopes that the wealthy homeowners would take it in.  But by the time Dunn discovered it, the baby had died.

Benedict continued his work in education, politics, the arts and charity.  In 1875, for instance, he helped found the Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor.  In the meantime, he found the time to write.  He was the author of American Admiralty, A Run Through Europe (a book of his travels), and the Hymn of Hildebert, a translation of medieval hymns.

Erastus C. Benedict died in 1880.  His funeral was held in the South Reformed Church at Fifth Avenue and 21st Street on October 25.  The New-York Tribune noted "The dead man was attired in his Chancelor's robes, his university cap lying upon his breast.  The coffin was covered with black velvet, was lined with white sating, and had silver mountings."

Six years, later on May 14, 1886, Caroline Benedict died at the age of 76 in the 10th Street house.  Her funeral was held there two days later.

The following month the Benedict estate sold the property to Helen L. and Henry A. Oakley.  The couple paid $26,000, or about $700,000 today.  Like Benedict, Oakley was a familiar name within Manhattan's social and political circles.  In addition to his legal practice, he was a vice-president of the Board of Managers of St. Luke's Hospital, a vice-president of the Church Club of New-York, and treasurer of the Citizen's Committee on High-Licence (an organization which pushed for restrictions on "liquor traffic and the diminution of crime and taxation that will surely follow").

Living with the childless couple was Julia Hawks Oakley, the daughter of Henry's deceased brother, Richard A. Oakley.  Some of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens were present when she was married to Edwin Stevens Allen on June 2, 1890 in Calvary Episcopal Church on Park Avenue at 21st Street.   Julia's maternal grandfather, the Rev. Dr. Francis Lesoer Hawks, had been rector of the church three decades earlier; and a stained glass memorial window to him was decorated with flowers for the ceremony.

Oakley's reputation was stainless and the charitable organizations he served had no reason to worry about his handling their funds.  And somehow he almost always managed to obtain positions that enabled him to receive the donations directly.  On August 10, 1893, for instance, an announcement appeared in The Sun saying "a society has been formed in this city to agitate for the abrogation of the Russian extradition treaty."  The notice added "The membership fee is $1, which will be received by Mr. Henry A. Oakley."

Helen and Henry lived well, spending summers at fashionable resorts and moving among polite society.  On July 2, 1893 The New York Times advised "Mr. and Mrs. Henry A. Oakley of 10 West Tenth Street have taken a cottage at Harrington Park, N.J."

But Henry's wealth and sterling reputation were about to come crashing down.  For some time he had served as treasurer of American Church Missionary Society.  In the spring of 1895 a review of the books revealed that a massive amount of money was missing.  The New-York Tribune described the organization's resultant condition saying the society's finances "have been crippled by the shortage."

The Society announced it "did not intend to bring any legal proceedings" against him.  However on March 7 the New-York Tribune reported "The muddling of the accounts of the American Church Missionary Society...has led to the retirement of its treasurer, Henry A. Oakley."

As partial reparation title to the 10th Street house was transferred to the American Church Missionary Society, which initially leased it to James P. Paulding and his wife.  Paulding was a partner in the brokerage firm of Paulding & Slosson, was president of the F. O. Norton Cement Company, and a director in the Colwell Lead Company.   In 1897 the Society sold the house to the couple, who paid exactly $33,069.74--the equivalent of $1 million today.

Paulding was also a supporter of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals--and so he was familiar with bravery medal it awarded once a year.  That knowledge came into play on November 17, 1902.  He was passing by Madison Square Garden where the annual Horse Show was taking place.  The show attracted the cream of Manhattan society and their costly carriages lined the streets in front of the venue.

Something frightened a work horse pulling a delivery wagon and it took off among the "fashionable equipages in front of Madison Square Garden," as reported by The Evening World.  Policeman Casey darted out into the street, grabbing the frightened horse by the bridle.  "He was dragged and kicked by the horse and cut by the lines while holding on for over a block.  But he steered the horse in and out among the fine private carriages"

When Casey finally brought the horse to a halt, he looked for his new blue helmet which he had worn for the first time.  When he found it, it was crushed.  Paulding overheard him say "Well, that's a shame.  I just paid $2.40 for that and now I'll have to get another."  (It was, actually, a pricey loss for the civil servant, about $70.50 today.)

Paulding assured the officer not to worry about the helmet, "for he should have as many more as he wished."  He then went directly to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals to nominate Casey for the annual medal.

Paulding died in the couple's summer residence in Barclay Heights, Saugerties, New York, on August 2, 1916.  Two years later, in May, his widow sold the 10th Street house to Archibald C. Kains and his wife.  The couple would not remain long, selling it to Margaret E. Rutledge, a fledgling real estate operator, in 1921.  The house was priced at $60,000, more than $820,000 today.

Margaret converted the former mansion to an upscale rooming house.   Over the next two decades it would be home to tenants like Mrs. Harold Whitley.  She was involved in a terrifying incident on March 5, 1932 when she and Margery Clement were passengers in a bi-plane piloted by A. C. Eustis.  The trio was heading from New York to Norfolk, Virginia.  Eustis lost his way, could not find the airport, and realized that he was running out of fuel.  He made a forced landing on the beach at Ocean View, Virginia where the uneven surface flipped the plane.  No one was seriously injured, but locals immediately sent out the alarm that "the Lindbergh party had crashed in the bay."

A tax photograph shows the lost stoop and a layer of white paint.  photo via the NYC Dept of Records
Other tenants in the 1930's were Assistant District Attorney James L. Murray and actress Eleanor King and her lawyer husband Lowell M. Birrell.

In 1956 a significant conversion resulted in two and three apartments per floor.  It was most likely at this time that the lintels were shaved flat and the stoop removed.  Tenants entered through the new entrance at the former English basement level.

Half a century later, an astounding renovation was begun by Eric and Andrea Soros Colombel.  The couple purchased the house in 2006 for $11.5 million and started "top-to-bottom updates and renovations," as worded by The New York Times.  (Andrea Colombel is the daughter of billionaire financier George Soros.)


When the renovations were complete, the stoop and the lintels had been restored to their 1844 appearance.  Inside was a different story.  The enlarged building (now 8,500 square feet) had 21 rooms, including seven bedrooms and eight and a half baths.  The basement level, once the workplace of the Benedicts' cook, laundress and maids, contains a stone-walled fitness center complete with a ballet barre, a sauna and steam shower.

The new interiors would stun the Benedict, Oakley and Paulding families. photos via dailymail.co
The Colombels sold the mansion in the fall of 2015 to Michael A. Karp, founder of the University City Housing Copany, for $20 million.

photographs by the author

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

The 1903 Mansion at No. 1016 Madison Avenue

No. 1016 Madison Avenue was the centerpiece of the three mansions -- photo by Alice Lum
At the turn of the last century Madison Avenue rivaled Fifth Avenue as the prestigious residential address.  Millionaires like Stuyvesant Fish, Gertrude Rhinelander Waldo and Henry Marquand erected massive stone mansions on Madison Avenue, establishing the thoroughfare as a highly enviable address.

In 1902 speculative developer Jeremiah C. Lyons began work on three harmonious residences at Nos. 1014 to 1018 Madison Avenue, adjoining the Fish mansion.  The architectural firm of York & Sawyer designed the houses to appear as a single, grand French palace.    The five-story Beaux Arts style residences were completed a year later, creating an elegant and imposing presence on the block.  No. 1016, the central mansion, was perhaps the most eye-catching, with its expansive centered windows rising three stories.

Despite the exclusive location and the quality of the mansions, Lyons had difficulty selling Nos. 1018 and 1016; and the advent of the Financial Panic of 1907 did not help. On February 8, 1910, seven years after the homes were completed, The Sun reported that the two properties were to be sold in foreclosure.   The auction took place the following month and on March 20, 1910 the sale of the two handsome structures was announced in the New-York Tribune. 

The New-York Tribune pictured the houses on March 20, 1910 (copyright expired)
No. 1016 was purchased by Philadelphia art collector and explorer Thomas Cardeza.   It would seem that Cardeza purchased the property as an investment, for he never lived in the house; choosing instead to lease it.

The 34-year old son of wealthy heiress Charlotte Drake Cardeza apparently preferred the gentleman’s lifestyle to being grounded to a regular job.  In March of 1912 he was staying in a hunting lodge in Hungary when he headed back to the United States to receive medical treatment.  He met his mother in Cherbourg, France and on Wednesday, April 10 they boarded the new ocean steamer, the R. M. S. Titanic.

Mrs. Cardeza and her son shared one of the two deluxe B-deck parlor suites—reportedly finer accommodations than John Jacob Astor and his new wife enjoyed.  The sitting room was outfitted with a marble fireplace and there was a 50-foot private promenade deck with potted plants and Tudor woodwork.  (The other deluxe parlor suite was taken by J. Bruce Ismay.)

Mrs. Cardeza needed the expansive suite, for she boarded the liner with fourteen trunks, three packing crates and four suitcases.  Reportedly Thomas Cardeza spent much of the voyage playing poker.  Along for the voyage were Cardeza’s manservant, Gustave Lesueur, and Charlotte Cardeza’s maid, Annie Moore Ward.

Thomas Cardeza and his stylish mother pose on deck -- http://alhambralibrary.blogspot.com/2012/03/library-commemorates-100th-anniversary.html
Four days after boarding, on April 14, the Titanic famously struck an iceberg.  All four of the Cardeza party managed to board Lifeboat No. 3 and survived the disaster. 

Within the year Cardeza sold the house at No. 1016 Madison Avenue to Henry Ingersoll Riker.  The 41-year old New York City native had received his law degree from Harvard and was admitted to the bar in 1894.  But three years later he left the legal profession to join the banking firm of Redmond, Kerr & Company.  After serving in the Spanish-American War as a member of Troop A, New York Cavalry and then in Puerto Rico, he married his cousin May Riker, in 1903.

photo by Alice Lum

By then he was the head of his own brokerage firm at No. 74 Pine Street.   Henry and Mary moved in to No. 1016 with their three children, John Lawrence, age 9; and twins Henry and Mary, age 5.

The Rikers would remain in the house until 1926 when it was sold to Francis H. Lenygon.   The English-born Lenygon was a world-renowned authority on period interiors and furniture.   He had arrived in New York in 1910 to decorate the mansion of Whitelaw Reid.  One commission followed another and he finally established a branch of his London firm Lenygon & Morant, Inc. in New York.

After purchasing No. 1016, Lenygon moved his business from No. 16 East 60th Street.  He lived in the upper floors without actually converting the house to a dual-purpose structure.  Lenygon & Morant was responsible for the interior decoration of the homes of Harry F. Guggenheim, Colonel M. R. Guggenheim, Percy R. Pyne, Guy Fairfax Cary and other millionaires. 

photo by Alice Lum

More importantly, Francis Lenygon lectured on fine arts at New York University, and on period furniture and interior decoration at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  He wrote three important books used by instructors and designers:  “Decoration and Furniture of English Mansions,” “Furniture in England,” and “Decoration in England.”

When John D. Rockefeller, Jr. and his wife Abby Aldrich Rockefeller became involved in the rescue and restoration of Williamsburg, Virginia they searched for a leading expert in English 17th and 18th century interiors.  They chose Francis Lenygon. 

Lenygon served as consultant on the restoration and traveled to England to choose the furnishings for the Governor’s palace.

The same year that Lenygon purchased No. 1016 Madison, he married Jeannette Becker.   The couple lived together in the house for nearly two decades.  Then, in 1943, the 66-year old Lenygon’s health failed and he died in the house on Saturday evening, June 12.

The mansion became home to the Perls Galleries in 1954.  Run by Klaus G. Perls and his wife Amelia (better known as Dolly), the gallery originally sold works by European artists like Utrillo, Maurice de Vlaminck and Raoul Dufy.  The Perls branched into modern American art and the same year that they moved into No. 1016 they began representing Alexander Calder.

During the 1960s and ‘70s Calder boarded in the house and the artist designed the stone walkway that serves as the sidewalk in front of the three York & Sawyer mansions.

By the 1990s the aging couple began donating important collections to museums.   In 1991 they gave 153 pieces of African royal art to the Michael C. Rockefeller Wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art—carved ivory tusks, musical instruments, bronze figures, jewelry and decorative masks among them.  Four years later they gave the Metropolitan Museum thirteen important works—the largest donation ever received to date by its department of 20th century art—including works by Pascin, Picasso, Braque, Modigliani, Leger and Soutine.

The Perl Galleries remained in the Madison Avenue mansion for forty-three years, closing its doors in 1997.  The Arader Gallery moved into the house shortly afterward, continuing the tradition of upscale art.  The house has still not been structurally divided.  The remarkable mansion was put on the market a few years ago for a jaw-dropping $75 million.

photo by Alice Lum

Thanks to reader R. Steuber for requesting this post