The New York County Courthouse - 60 Centre Street

 

photograph by wallyg

Twenty-two architects submitted designs for a new New York County Courthouse in 1913.  Guy Lowell, a Boston architect, won the competition with his "round building."  On April 19, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide remarked that the substantial commission came with side effects.  "Mr. Lowell will have about two thousand working and detail drawings to prepare, and it will be necessary for him to engage a larger force of draftsmen and larger quarters."  The article added that from his $200,000 fee, about $130,000 of that would be eaten up by "office expenses."

The journal explained that the winning design would now go to "the Court House Board and their architect, Walter Cook," for approval.  That process would initiate the first domino to fall in a long string of disappointments and delays.  On June 21, 1913, the Record & Guide reported, "The justices of the Supreme Court rejected on Tuesday...Mr. Guy Lowell's court house plan."

The borough president invited a committee of five architects to suggest "modifications" to Lowell's circular plan.  They handed Lowell a number of suggested sketches and he subsequently "prepared modified sketches."  Nearly a year later, on May 16, 1916, the Record & Guide reported on the "modified design for the courthouse," saying that the exterior of the building was "only slightly changed."

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, May 16, 1914 (copyright expired)

Lowell's task was, by no means, finished.  On April 24, 1913, the Record & Guide reported that the courthouse site had been "amended."  The article noted, "Guy Lowell, the architect, is to have the revised plan of the building ready by May 1.  He has a large force of draftsmen at work."

The revised Courthouse site.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, April 24, 1915 (copyright expired)

But red tape, construction costs, and a world war continued to retard the process of erecting a county courthouse.  Then, on November 29, 1919, seven years after Guy Lowell's initial design was accepted, the Record & Guide wrote, "Final action has been taken, after years of effort, upon the plan for a new County court house in Manhattan.  Radical changes, however, will be made in the structure in size, layout, and in cost."

Lowell's original plans projected the cost at between $15,000,000 and $20,000,000 (about $372 million in 2026 terms).  The article said, "The new court house is expected to cost about $6,000,000 and its completion is looked for in about two years.  It will be hexagonal in shape."  Lowell's revised design was "on a less elaborate scale."

Lowell released the revised downscaled rendering in December 1919.  Record & Guide December 20, 1919 (copyright expired)

The new hexagonal design provided for 32 courtrooms for the Supreme Court and ten for the City Court.  "The new Court House will be built of the same excellent materials and will have the same carefully worked out conveniences as the building originally planned," explained the Record & Guide on December 20, 1919.  The article detailed:

The entire exterior, including the porch, will be of granite of a warm tone.  A fine porch or portico will occupy the westerly one of the six sides, giving character and dignity to the building...The other five sides, occupied by the courts, depend for their architectural effect on careful composition--produced by the skillful balancing of void and well space, so that there are no columns or architectural projections to shut off light from the court room windows.

Excavation for the foundation had started in 1918, a year before that article.  And yet Lowell would have to make one more significant change.  On September 4, 1920, he explained in a letter to Fiorello La Guardia, president of the Board of Aldermen, that the granite--a part of the plans since 1913--was now too expensive to use.  He said in part, "we cannot afford all the enhancement that we could allow ourselves some years ago."  Explaining that limestone would be "$600,000 less than the available granite bid," he suggested the former material.  He said, "You see that, though I would have liked granite, I have not allowed my personal preferences to supersede my real wish, which is to give the city the best we can for the money."

Construction was once again delayed by an obstacle that never should have happened.  On November 23, 1920 the Washington D.C. Evening Star reported that the cartage firm Holland & Co. "began dumping ashes in the New York county courthouse excavation in February 1918, and continued doing so until recently."  Now, said the article, the city would have to spend "nearly $400,000 for removal of these ashes so that construction can be begun."

The dignified building sat alone upon its completion in 1927.  photograph by Wurts. Bros from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

In February 1927, 14 years after Guy Lowell first sat before his drafting table and two weeks after his death, the New York County Court House was completed.  The Record & Guide said, "From the porch a collonaded [sic] lobby on the first or main floor leads to the central rotunda."  It and that lobby, said the article, "are paved with marble and have limestone columns and dado."  

The Supreme Court rooms were on the third and fourth floors.  The fifth and sixth floors were set back "leaving a space which can be used as a terrace."  Those levels held the upper part of the two-story library, the justices' reading room, dining room, justice's chambers and such.  "Each Justice's chambers consists of a small vestibule, a secretary's room, and the chamber proper," explained the Record & Guide.

The first floor plan.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide December 20, 1919 (copyright expired)

The costly structure came with a restriction taken for granted today, but highly unusual in 1920.  On March 17, The New York Times reported, "Warning cards against smoking, such as are posted in factories, on which the penalties for violations are printed, confronted attorneys and others having business in the new New York County courthouse yesterday."

An outgrowth of the Great Depression was the Works Progress Administration, which provided jobs to out-of-work Americans.  One segment found work for artists, who suddenly found themselves decorating the walls and ceilings of civic buildings throughout the country.  Included in the massive project were the decorations of the corridors, rotunda, courtrooms and assembly rooms of the New York County Courthouse.

On July 26, 1934, the Springfield Weekly Republic quoted critic Edward Alden Jewell, who panned Attillio Pusteria's new foyer murals in the New York County Courthouse as too traditional.  

The ceiling of the foyer, decorated by Attilio Pusteria.  photo by Peter Vanderwarker from the collection of the Historical Society of the New York Courts.

He said they were "precisely the decorations one would expect to find beyond the massive Corinthian columns of the portico" and complained that they represent the "inevitable allegories, such as Justice, Judgement, Mercy and Enforcement."  Jewell grumbled that American artists were being forced "to paint in the manner of Raphael."

The rotunda with its inlaid marble floors, limestone columns and 1934 dome decoration.  photo by Peter Vanderwarker from the collection of the Historical Society of the New York Courts.

Another group complained about the decoration.  But, unlike Jewell, they were not indignant about the artistic rendering, but about one particular image.  On December 19, 1936, The Detroit Tribune reported that "after a protest had been made by Harlem leaders," the Municipal Art Commission had agreed "that the WPA mural in the New York County Courthouse showing a colored man eating watermelon was 'frivolous,' and said the offending picture would be erased and something else substituted."

The New York County Courthouse became, of course, the scene of hearings and trials from the mundane to the most sensational.  In September 1938, Tammany District Leader James J. Hines, accused of "selling political protection to the underworld," was prosecuted by fledgling District Attorney Thomas E. Dewey.  Hines smugly walked out of the courthouse surrounded by a throng of reporters on September 12.  The Washington D.C. Evening Star explained that the judge "ordered a mistrial yesterday on the grounds that the youthful prosecutor by a verbal slip had 'fatally prejudiced' the jury against the white-haired political boss."

And on December 20, 1952, The New York Times began an article saying, "The man generally considered the most feared figure in the underworld was the principal witness at yesterday's hearing into waterfront conditions by the State Crime Commission.  He was Albert Anastasia, and his defiant appearance on the stand was the most dramatic incident of the hearings to date."

When the New York County Courthouse first opened, one of its elevator operators was Dominick Lupiano, a 48-year-old immigrant from Italy who had run an elevator in the old courthouse building for several years.  Decades later, the Washington D.C. Evening Star would say that he and his wife, Roselle, "scrimped" to put their son, Vincent, through law school.  On one occasion, State Supreme Court Justice Robert F. Wagner, Sr. mentioned to Lupiano, "One day, Dominick, you may be taking one of your own sons up to his own chambers.  In this country anything is possible, you know."

Lupiano retired after 40 years of service.  But the now-84-year-old came back on January 4, 1955.  That day Vincent A. Lupiano was sworn in as a justice of the State Supreme Court.  The Evening Star said:  "After the swearing-in ceremony, Dominick Lupiano donned his old elevator operator's uniform cap with a flourish.  Beaming, he escorted Justice Vincent Lupiano to the elevator and took him upstairs to his chambers."

Another set of high profile trials was held here in 1970.  Sixteen members of the Black Panthers were tried on "charges of conspiring to bomb Manhattan department stores, the Bronx Botanical Gardens, police stations, subway switching-rooms and railroad tracks," said The New York Times on February 1.  (The trials ended with mixed guilty pleas, murder convictions and dismissed charges.)

In March 1988, the restoration of the rotunda mural, Law Through the Ages, was initiated.  Somewhat surprisingly, The New York Times reported that the project "is being paid for by lawyers and judges in the building."

photograph by Beyond My Ken

Guy Lowell's dignified and stately Roman Classical style structure has not only been the venue of serious legal trials, but it has inspired producers throughout the decades.  The broad exterior staircase and monumental columns have appeared in countless movies and television shows.  And it remains a crucial element in the architectural personality of Foley Square.

The Lost Plant-Hayward Mansion - 1051 Fifth Avenue

The balustrade at the top of the mansion was marble with bronze balusters.  The Architectural forum, November 1922 (copyright expired)

When Morton F. Plant purchased the building plot at the southeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 52nd Street from William K. Vanderbilt in 1904, he agreed not to sell it to a commercial interest for 25 years.  But in 1915, not half-way into the term, Vanderbilt conceded that the battle against businesses was lost and lifted the restriction from the deed.

Morton Freeman Plant - from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Plant paid Bernard M. Baruch $700,000 for a vacant lot at the the northeast corner of on Fifth Avenue and 86th Street, safely distant from the encroaching mercantile district.  Architect Guy Lowell filed plans on January 7, 1918 for a five-story, limestone clad mansion to cost $300,000; bringing the total price of the project to $24 million in today's money.

Lowell designed a dignified Italian Renaissance palazzo 50-feet deep along on Fifth Avenue and 120-feet wide on 86th Street.  The Architectural Forum called it "one of the most important individual dwellings erected in New York during recent years."  Faced in pink Tennessee marble, the tripartite design consisted of a rusticated base that supported a single-story midsection and two-story upper section.  The fifth floor, containing servant quarters, was hidden behind a bronze and marble balustrade to preserve the proportions.  

Portrait artist Alphonse Junger captured Maisie wearing a double string of pearls.  via doyle.com

Unlike the Plants' former home, the new mansion was relatively restrained.  A columned entrance portico supported a second-floor balcony, the openings of that level sat upon blind balustrades and wore Renaissance period pediments, and an intricate frieze ran below the cornice.   A cartouche and ribbon on the 86th Street elevation was the only other embellishment.

The first floor, with 15-foot ceilings, contained the dining room to the right of the entrance hall, and two reception rooms.  The entire avenue side of the second floor, or piano mobile, was taken up by the drawing room.  The ceilings on this floor were 18-feet high.  The drawing room was connected by a long gallery to the library, facing 86th Street, and the billiard room at the far end.

The sweeping marble staircase was hung with tapestries.  To the right is the highly ornamented elevator door. The Architectural forum, November 1922 (copyright expired) 

The Architectural Record noted "Several of the rooms are fitted with antique paneling and other woodwork taken from old buildings in France and England, and the furnishings of the house are largely antiques, with many treasures of paintings, tapestries and oriental porcelain."

The Architectural Record published this photo of the "English painted fine chimney piece" in the dining room. The Architectural forum, November 1922 (copyright expired)

Morton Freeman Plant was the son of Henry Bradley Plant who, upon his death in 1899, had left him an estate estimated by The Sun at "more than $30,000,000."  (That fortune would equal $945 million today.)  Morton was chairman of the Southern Express Company; vice-president of the Chicago, Indianapolis & Louisville Railway Company; director of the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad Company; and other railroads and banks.  A year before starting construction on the new mansion he had purchased the Boston newspapers the Herald and the Traveler, and the New London Telegraph.

His passion, however, was yachting.  The Sun commented that "In the yachting field his fame extended over two continents."  He was the commodore of the Larchmont Yacht Club and owned the steel schooner Ingomar, the steam yachts Venetra and Iolanda, a schooner, the Elena, and a "power craft," as described by The Sun, the Thelma.  In addition he owned the New London baseball team and was part owner of the Philadelphia Quakers club of the National League.  (The New York Times later commented "He maintained the New London club at a loss simply for his own pleasure.")

Plant had married Nellie Capron in 1888.  Shortly after her death on August 7, 1913, he met Sarah Mae Caldwell Manwaring, the wife of Selden Manwaring.  The captivating Maisie, as friends called her, was exactly 30 years younger than the tycoon--he was 61 and she 31 years old.  

In May of 1914, not ten months after the death of his wife, Plant announced his engagement to Mae who had obtained a divorce the previous month.  A month later the couple was married at Plant's immense Groton, Connecticut estate.  As his wedding gift he gave the bride $8 million.

Branford House was designed in part by Nellie Plant, a trained architect, with Robert W. Gibson, who designed the 52nd Street Plant mansion.  postcard from the author's collection

Moving into the new mansion with the couple was Henry Bradley Plant, Morton's 22-year old son by his first marriage, and Maisie's son, 16-year-old Philip Morgan Plant (Morton Plant had adopted him upon marrying Maisie).   Henry would not be here long.  On June 28, 1917 he married Amy Warren. 

With the outbreak of World War I that year, Henry enlisted in the Navy.  Philip was sent to a military academy at Concord, Massachusetts.  Maisie, like so many wealthy socialites, gave her support to relief work.  On January 6, 1918 The Sun reported, for instance, "A concert will be given this evening at 9:30 o'clock at the home of Mrs. Morton F. Plant, 1051 Fifth avenue, for the benefit of the Hospital Under Three Flags, at Ris-Orangis, France."  The hospital trained front line army surgeons.

On October 25 that year the 66-year old Morton Plant arrived home from his office with a severe cold.  The Brooklyn Citizen reported "He immediately went to bed and Mrs. Plant sent for the family physician."  His condition continued to deteriorate.  On November 4 Maisie sent for Henry and Philip.  They arrived at the Fifth Avenue mansion just before Plant's death at around 7:20 that evening.

The millionaire's funeral was held in the Fifth Avenue mansion on November 7.  The mayor of New London, Connecticut, E. Frank Morgan, ordered that all businesses there be closed during the time of the service.  (Plant's generosity to Connecticut had included $1.125 million to found the Connecticut College for Women and the construction of two dormitories there, later.)

Plant's will left $1,000 to each of the servants who had been with him for 10 years or more--a windfall equal to about 17 times that much today.

Although Maisie was still in mourning, on May 21, 1919 she opened the house for the wedding of her sister, Florence Morgan Caldwell, to Dr. James M. McTiernan.  As it turned out, it would not be the only wedding that year.

The following month, on June 21, The Evening Post teased "Somewhere in this city this afternoon Col. Hayward, who resigned as a Public Service Commissioner to become the Colonel of the famous 15th (colored) Infantry, is being married, sly as he is keeping it."  The article added "Just as City Clerk Scully was preparing to leave his office for the day this noon, Col Hayward and Mrs. Sara [sic] Mae Plant slipped in and got the license.  Then they slipped out and--there you are."

The article was right.  That afternoon the 42-year old Colonel William Hayward and 39-year old Maisie Plant were married at the Plaza Hotel.  Among the few guests were Maisie's sister and new brother-in-law, her son Philip (who gave his mother away) Hayward's son, Leland, and a few other relatives.  Noticeably absent was Henry Plant.  Immediately after the ceremony the newlyweds left for Hayward's summer estate in Bar Harbor.

The second floor gallery (top) connected the billiard room on the east to the drawing room overlooking 5th Avenue.  On the roof was the "playroom."  The Architectural forum, November 1922 (copyright expired)   

Hayward was well-known for his service during World War I when he organized and led the 15th Regiment of the New York Infantry.  Military troops were segregated by race and the 15th was an all-Black regiment.  The men were decorated with the Croix de Guerre by the French Army, and Hayward himself was additionally awarded the Distinguished Service medal from for "personal bravery in action and military leadership of the highest order," from the U.S., and the Legion of Honor from the President of France.  This was his second marriage, his first ending in divorce in 1912.

Later that year the boys went off to college, Philip Plant to Yale and Leland Hayward to Princeton.  Before long they would bring more press attention to the family than their parents.

The following year, on November 1, 19-year old Philip was driving from New Haven to New York City with three other Yale students and 19-year old actress, Helen Jesmer.  She sat beside Philip in the front seat of his touring car.  The New-York Tribune reported the car "left the roadway at a turn in Pelham Bay Parkway, near Hunter's Island bridge, and was demolished against a tree."

Philip suffered a broken leg and facial cuts, Charles H. Morehead a broken nose, and Normal I. Huffey "contusions of the back."  Helen, who was thrown from the car, was more severely hurt.  The Daily News reported "Miss Helen Jesmer, an actress, is dying in Fordham Hospital, as the result of wounds received when an automobile drive by Philip M. Plant...crashed into a tree."

A year after the accident Helen Jesmer looked good as new.  The Tatler, December 1920 (copyright expired)

Helen was a member of the Greenwich Village Follies chorus and had appeared with Douglas Fairbanks in silent films.  The Daily News added that she "is also in demand as a fashion model."  The article noted "Due to her critical condition no operation could be performed" on her.  Despite The Daily News' dire prediction, Helen survived.  She sued Philip for more than $3 million in today's money.  She later married and gave birth to actress Julie Newmar.

The Architectural forum, November 1922 (copyright expired)

Next it was Leland's turn to steal the spotlight.  In March 1921 he took advantage of the fact that his father and Maisie were abroad.  For more than a year he and Inez Gibbs had been in love.  The teens' parents did not object to the match, but insisted that an engagement be delayed because of their youth.    On March 28, according to The Evening World, "young Hayward decided to take matters in his own hands and he called for Miss Gibbs in a limousine driven by a chauffeur and took her on what her parents believed to be just a ride into the country."

A few hours later the Gibbs family received a telegram from Greenwich, Connecticut "saying that they were married and asking forgiveness."  The article said "They added that they were going to Europe for their honeymoon.  Presumably they are on their way there now."

William Hayward - from the collection of the Library of Congress.

By now William Hayward held the post of United States District Attorney.  On November 15, 1922 Maisie hired a new maid, 24-year old Marie Thomatis.  When she left the house four months later, on March 15, 1923, she helped herself to $5,000 in jewelry and clothing (nearly $75,000 in today's money).  It did not take detectives long to find the thieving servant.  She was arrested with a female accomplice on April 1.

In 1923 a romance blossomed between Philip and 18-year old actress Constance Bennett.  Neither set of parents was particularly happy.  Constance had been married at the age of 16 (her parents had the marriage annulled) and her parents were not eager to see her rush into another.  To put space between them, the Bennetts took Constance off to Italy on the White Star liner The Majestic in June 1923.   The Haywards came up with the same scheme.  But in an unbelievable stroke of fate, both families found themselves on the same ship.  On July 8, 1923 The Ogden Standard-Examiner said "Now the little beauty and the heir to all the Plant millions were assured a week of cosy intimacy which an ocean liner affords."

Both sets of parents were thwarted and the couple married.  They moved into No. 1051 Fifth Avenue where things seemed to work out harmoniously.  On January 16, 1927 The New York Times reported "A farewell party was given last night by Mrs. William Hayward, who with her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Philip M. Plant, will sail on Jan. 29 to join the other members of her family in Egypt.  The house at 1,051 Fifth Avenue was beautifully decorated.  There was dancing until 1 o'clock when supper was served."

In the meantime, Leland's marriage was not going well.  He and Inez divorced in 1924.  He would go on to lead a colorful life.  He became a Hollywood and Broadway producer, responsible for the original stage productions of South Pacific and The Sound of Music; and as an agent handled the careers of legends like Fred Astaire, James Stewart, Boris Karloff, Judy Garland and Ginger Rogers.  He would marry a total of five times.

Philip's marriage to Constance Bennett ended in divorce, as well, in 1929.  By then William and Maisie had added to their properties.  They purchased Clarendon Court, the former Bellevue Avenue cottage of E. C. Knight in Newport, and in 1930 opened Casa Louwana in Palm Beach, Florida.  The couple's entertainments at all three residences were covered routinely in society columns.

A vintage postcard depicted Clarendon Court while it was still owned by Knight.  

In 1943 William and Maisie were at Casa Louwana when William fell ill.  The New York Sun reported "Upon the advice of his physician he returned from the South on his birthday, April, 29.  The following year, in July, he was admitted to the Doctor's Hospital on East End Avenue.  He was still there three months later when, on October 12, 1944, he died at the age of 67.  Maisie and Leland were at his bedside.

In 1941 the house looked exactly as it had in 1917.  photo via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

On June 30, 1954 Maisie married John Edward Rovensky in the Fifth Avenue mansion.  He was the chairman of the board of the American Car Foundry Industries and former vice president of the National City Bank.  On July 3 The New York Times reported "The couple sailed Thursday on the Queen Elizabeth for a wedding trip to Europe."

Maisie's fourth husband was John Edward Rovensky.  original source unknown

Maisie died in Newport two years later, on July 22, 1956.  Six months after her death, on January 16, 1957, The Saratogian reported that her executors had opened "the last of the great mansions" for two days.  "And in the twilight of opulence, the public peered into the oak-paneled past, climbed the circular staircase, fingered the tapestries and sat on the brocaded chairs of the late Mrs. John E. Rovensky."

In January 1957 gawking New Yorkers climbed the staircase to see how the other half lived.  The Architectural forum, November 1922 (copyright expired)

The article talked about paintings by "Watteau, Boucher, Raeburn, Romney.  And Chelsea, Minton and Worcester porcelains.  And the Ashburnham gilded silver toilet service.  And Oriental rugs, gold snuff boxes, Chippendale chairs, Hepplewhite settees, and clocks and bowls and vases and urns and candelabra."

The reporter told of one elderly woman, who mumbled, "It's not right to let people touch the things of that poor, dead woman."  Another, "heavy with mink, leaned against the Elizabethan carved oak paneling of the Lord Nelson Room and advised an attendant: 'We must see the kitchen.  My cook and I have come expressly to see the kitchen.'"

The article advised "The mansion and the two adjacent houses will be sold as a real estate parcel."  They were replaced by the 19-story apartment building designed by Wechsler & Schimenti (described by the late Christopher Gray as a "plain brick 1950's box") which survives.

photo via cityrealty.com

The Lost Billings Mansion -- "Tryon Hall"

Three years after marrying Margaret Cochran in 1772, Philadelphian John Corbin joined the militia.  1775 was the year of the Battle of Bunker Hill.  That year the intrepid Margaret Cochran Corbin followed the troops and her husband.  She cooked for the soldiers, did their laundry, and aided the sick and wounded.

The Battle of Fort Washington erupted on the cliffs above the Hudson River on November 16, 1776.  A “matross,” Corbin was responsible for loading a cannon while his partner fired it.  When Corbin’s partner was killed, he took over the firing while Margaret loaded.  Then Corbin, too, was killed.

Margaret Corbin took over the cannon, loading and firing it throughout the skirmish.  The British won the Battle of Fort Washington; but it was Margaret’s cannon that was reportedly the last to stop firing.   The heroic woman was taken off the battlefield with severe injuries to her jaw and chest and a nearly-severed left arm.   After her recovery she joined the Invalid Regiment at West Point.

A century and a quarter following the battle the land overlooking the Hudson River and the New Jersey palisades on the opposite bank was still largely undeveloped.   Riverside Drive was still being graded and carved into the landscape.  It snaked below the battlefield site which would soon catch the eye of Chicago industrialist and horse enthusiast Cornelius Kingsley Garrison Billings. 

At 40 years old, Billings stepped down as president of the People’s Gas Light & Code Company in 1901.  He relocated to New York City, living in a mansion on Fifth Avenue at 53^rd Street, and joined other millionaires engaged in trotter racing at the Speedway in upper Manhattan.  The racetrack had been established just three years earlier.    Billings purchased the land in Washington Heights above the cliff, conveniently close to the Speedway, for a stable and lodge.

The New York Times, on September 15, 1901, said that he would “erect there a residence, which, with its surroundings, promises to rival anything of its kind in the city.”  The newspaper said “Mr. Billings will build a mansion, and...a large stable, affording accommodations for sixty horses.”  A feature of the house would be “an observatory from which an unobstructed view in every direction will be afforded.”

The millionaire commissioned architect Guy Lowell to design his getaway—a 25,000 square foot edifice that coupled a handsome stables and exercise grounds for his thoroughbreds with a lavish casino for entertainment.  The country lodge which The Times had described was constructed separately nearby atop the cliff.

The expansive stables included a 'casino' for entertaining -- photograph by Wurtz Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Construction was completed in 1903 and, to celebrate, Billings planned a dinner in the stables building catered by the fashionable Sherry’s restaurant—the caterer of choice of New York’s wealthiest families.   But news of the affair, on which the high-toned guests were to be seated on wooden hobby horses, got out and Billings had to quickly change plans.

On March 29, 1903 the New-York Tribune reported “C. K. G. Billings, who was to give a hobby horse dinner at his stable at Washington Heights last night, abandoned the plan on account of the publicity which it received, and instead took his guests to Sherry’s.  Many curious persons, who were waiting at Washington Heights to see the widely-talked of feast were disappointed, for Mr. Billings and his guests were dining down town.”

What the newspaper failed to mention was that the Billings dinner was even more outlandish than was originally planned.   Painted backdrops of country scenes hid the French paneling of Sherry’s private dining room and the floor was strewn with hay.  The waiters donned the uniforms of grooms, and Billings’ millionaire guests in white ties and tails sat upon live horses around the table.

Millionaires in evening dress sit astride expensive steeds at Billings' unusual dinner party at Sherry's in March 1903 -- photograph by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Romanced by the awe-inspiring location, Billings called back Lowell to enlarge the lodge into a year-round residence.   The project would go on for years with landscape architect Charles Downing Lay working on the grounds while the mansion was constructed.

The completed mansion in 1913 -- photograph by Wurtz Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Finally, in 1907, the complex of buildings was completed.   The Sun said of the estate “The Billings place is the finest along the upper drive.  Mr. Billings is constantly adding to the attractiveness of his place, which has already cost him well on to the million dollar mark.  It is called Fort Tryon Hall, because it rests on the site of the famous revolutionary fort.”  The fort had been named for British Major General Sir William Tyron, the last British governor of colonial New York.

Another view of the house shows the "observatory" tower -- photograph by Wurtz Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

The New-York Tribune described the entertainment structures on the estate “at the extreme upper end of Manhattan Island, where city and country may be said to meet.”  The newspaper said that the “bathing pool” was “part of a building which is really a ‘casino,’ devoted to games and sports of various kinds.  A squash court occupies part of the building, and elsewhere is a bowling alley, but the swimming pool is by far the most interesting detail of the building and is notable by reason of its unusual size.”

The newspaper noted that “the ceiling is of glass, and at one end is built a deep alcove which contains a fireplace where huge logs are burned and where bathers may warm themselves before a crackling fire.  Various trophies adorn the walls, and at the deep end of the pool a springboard makes diving possible.”

photograph by Wurtz Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

The mansion itself was a massive Louis XIV-style chateau built around a central courtyard.   The New-York Tribune said that around the courtyard were “galleries, from which the dwellers might look down upon a fountain and a garden of brilliant flowers.”  In the mansion Billings, his wife and two children, were waited upon by a staff of nearly two dozen.   

From the observatory the Statue of Liberty could be seen.  photograph by Wurtz Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

In 1909, in honor of the Hudson Fulton Celebration, the retired millionaire paid for a stele on the property—a monument to the Corbins and the battle that took place on the site.

A year after the house was completed, so was Riverside Drive.  But the steep cliff on which the mansion sat made construction of a viable roadway to the Drive an engineering impossibility—or so it seemed.  The west end of the property was 100 nearly vertical feet above the Drive.

Yet on August 10, 1913 The Sun reported that “It is costing C. K. G. Billings more than $250,000 to realize an ambition that he has had for several years.  Mr. Billings built some years ago a fine residence on the site of old Fort Tryon, overlooking Riverside Drive at 192d street…He wanted a driveway to Riverside Drive, but because of the obstacles that nature placed there the idea was given up as being impossible of accomplishment.”

But Cornelius Billings was unaccustomed to having impossibility get in his way.  “Turning off with his automobile at 181^st street did not suit him, for it is north of the point that the Drive is the best.”  Billings consulted with architects Buchman & Fox who surveyed the property.  The Sun said “It was intimated that the improvement would cost a lot of money, but Mr. Billings let it be known in his own way that money was not to stand in the way.”

The problem, of course, was how to engineer and design a roadway up the steep incline.  Billings told the architects that “he wanted a grade that would permit him to drive his automobile and fast horses over it with safety.”

The architects turned to military engineering to solve the problem.  Japanese commander General Nogi had reached the Russian defenses at Port Arthur by constructing z-shaped trenches.  “Instead of zigzag trenches Mr. Fox planned to get to the top of Tryon Hill by building the road in the form of the letter S with great sweeping curves at either ends.”

One hundred laborers worked on the year-long project, cutting into the solid bedrock and using massive derricks.  The granite removed from the cliff side was used to construct the “Roman” retaining wall and arched viaduct that quickly became a landmark for Riverside Drive motorists.  “At the lower end a balustrade on top of the viaduct is 53 feet above the road,” said The Sun. “At the north end the arch is not so high as the road is going up all the time.  This archway is 160 feet long and is built of finished granite and stone taken from the Fort Tryon hill.”

A postcard captured Riverside Drive snaking below Billings' "Roman Roadway."

Inside the viaduct were blind arches built into the retaining wall “to hold statuary if Mr. Billings should wish so.”  The sweeping S curve was so gentle that a grade of less than 6 percent was achieved.  A balustrade of granite lined the roadway and electric lights illuminated the “Roman viaduct” at night.

At the bottom and the top of the roadway were great gates, 20 feet high and ten feet wide that swung from 16-foot high granite pillars.   The columns were capped by bronze lamps.  The cost of the upper gates alone was $3,000—about $50,000 today.

The massive upper gates with their bronze lamps cost Billings $50,000 in today's dollars -- photograph by Charles Bayer, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult VPage&VBID-24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW1280&RH=915

By now the cost of the estate had ballooned to about $2 million.   The Daily Ardmoreite of Ardmore, Oklahoma, told its readers on January 16, 1917 that “the Billings house has for years been one of the show places on Manhattan Island.  It is virtually a country estate in the city, being surrounded by spacious grounds beautifully laid out and commanding unusually wide vies of river and hill scenery.”

On the hillside above the lower entrance gates is the monument Billings erected to the Corbins and the Battle of Fort Washington -- photograph by Charles Bayer, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult VPage&VBID-24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW1280&RH=915

Billings had other homes, as well.  He owned an extensive estate “Farnsworth, near Oyster Bay, Long Island; the several hundred-acre Curl’s Neck Farm on the James River in Virginia; a summer home in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin; and an estate at Colorado Springs.  By the time the Daily Ardmoreite wrote of Fort Tryon Hall, Billings was ready to move on.

He moved his family into a 21-room apartment on Fifth Avenue and 63^rd Street, paying $20,000 a year rent (around $25,000 a month today). 

On January 4, 1917 the New-York Tribune reported that “C. K. G. Billings has sold Tryon Hall, his magnificent home at Fort Washington Avenue and upper Riverside Drive.  The name of the purchaser or the price has not been announced.”  

That purchaser would become known a few days later when John D. Rockefeller, Jr., announced his plan to give the estate to the city as a park.   His $10 million vision included the purchase of two abutting estates; as well as the purchase and preservation as parkland the palisades along the opposite cliffs in New Jersey, to ensure that the views would not be defaced.  

As for the Billings mansion, The Sun was confident that it would survive.  “It is possible that Mr. Rockefeller’s plans will not affect very much the architectural treatment of the Tryon Hall property.  Mr. Billings had employed some of the most prominent landscape architects in the country to work on the estate and it is the opinion that there are few estates better laid out or prettier than the Billings property.”

Rockefeller, however, had other thoughts.  When his plans to demolish the mansion came to light, he was met with unusual resistance.  “Though the original plan included the demolition of Tryon Hall, protests from architects who wished the building’s fine French architecture kept intact have stayed the immediate carrying out of the plan,” reported The New York Times on January 7, 1917.  “While one proposal to utilize the hall as the official residence of the Mayor was laughed down, it was declared last night that the building might eventually be used as a museum for the preservation of relics associated with the history of the city and State.”

Rockefeller relented; then as the nation entered World War I, he temporarily turned the mansion over to the United States Government.  The Sun reported on May 12, 1918 that it was placed “at the disposal of the Government for use during the war, presumably for a hospital, and that Mr. Rockefeller stood ready to spend $500,000 in hospital alterations.”

The patriotic plan did come to pass and with the park still in the planning stages, the mansion was rented to Nicolas C. Partos for the summer season of 1918.  Partos was head of the Partola Manufacturing Company which made “candied medicine.”  His lease extended from May 1 to October 1 and the $25,000 rent included the stables, garage, “other outbuildings, and the swimming pool,” according to The Times.

photographer unknown.  From the collection of the Museum of the City of New York, http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWRF60HY&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

The city dragged its feet and Rockefeller’s dream of an expansive park to the city sat in limbo.  Partos’ three-month lease was extended for years—ending on the afternoon of March 7, 1926.  Around 3:00 that day a boy noticed smoke pouring from the roof.  Inside Mrs. Partos and daughter Irene were both in bed on the third floor with pneumonia.  Dr. Henry W. Berg was there attending to his patients.

Dr. Berg helped Nicholas Partos and a few of the seven servants in the house carry the sick woman and girl downstairs.  They were put in a limousine to be taken to Mt. Sinai Hospital.  Before the limo left the property fire equipment had arrived; but by now the smoke had erupted into a full-blown blaze.

Cornelius Billings had had an elaborate self-contained fire-fighting system installed on the grounds.  But according to The New York Times the following day, “it broke down at the first trial.”   City fire hydrants were 200 feet from the house and, because the mansion was 250 above sea level, the water pressure was weak.  Pumping engines were called for and, in the meantime, the house continued burning out of control.

The Times reported “Part of the house was a museum of art works.  Mr. Partos owned paintings attributed to Rembrandt and Hals, two Corots, and two valuable tapestries of the Louis XIV period, among other things.”

While Partos hurried to the hospital to be with his wife and daughter; more than 200 firemen arrived at the conflagration, along with more than 50 pieces of apparatus.  Thirty streams of water were focused on the blaze, but the fire continued well into the night.

The quality of construction, ironically, added to the problem.  “Scores of men were put to work with axes chopping through floors and walls in order to get at the concealed flames which prevented more than temporary victories in any part of the building.  The axes were turned aside by wire of thick mesh which reinforced stucco and plaster.”

As night fell the eastern turret crashed into the building “which spouted fire and smoke like a volcano.”  The Times described the scene as parts of the mansion collapsed.  “As night was setting in a section of the roof fell, filling the sky with a broad field of sparks.  For a time torrents of red rushed upward against the darkened sky.”

Earlier in the afternoon onlookers noticed the Partos’ pet German Shepherd at a window, trapped on the second floor.  “It stood up at the window and looked out, estimating the distance of the jump to the flower bed below,” said The Times.  “Then it turned around and resurveyed the situation inside the house.  Efforts to escape through the interior singed the dog’s coat and sent it back to the window.”

The fire fighters sprayed the window opening with water, soaking the dog and buying it time.  Suddenly, “without further study, it leaped through the window, rolled over and over among the flower beds and then limped away.”

The dog was luckier than the Partos collections.  “Besides the art objects, much valuable jewelry was reported to have been left behind in the buildings,” said The Times.  “The total loss [of artwork] was estimated last night in the neighborhood of $1,000,000.”

The magnificent Tryon Hall, described by The Times as “a huge rambling chateau with towers and turrets, conical steeples, oriel windows and great expanses of steep shingled roof” was reduced to a pile of smoldering rubble.

It was not until 1927 that Rockefeller was finally able to start work on his 67-acre Fort Tryon Park.  He brought in Frederick Law Olmsted, Jr., son of the co-designer of Central Park, who spent four years transforming the rocky terrain into a manicured landscape.   Eight decades later the last surviving remnants of Tryon Hall are the Billings gatehouse, the elegant entrance pillars and the wonderful Roman roadway.

many thanks to Alan Engler for suggesting this post