The 1912 Passavant Building - 440 Park Avenue South

 

Once lined with aristocratic mansions, by the first years of the 20th century, Park Avenue was bustling with commerce and traffic.  In 1911, the estate of Willard Parker sold the 90 x 100 foot property at the southwest corner of Fourth Avenue (renamed Park Avenue South in 1959) and East 30th Street.  The newly-formed No. 440 Fourth Avenue Company hired the architectural firm of Cross & Cross to design a 16-story commercial structure on the site.

The building went up with lightning speed.  The architects filed plans on February 16, 1912, and the construction was completed on December 1.   Costing $500,000 to erect (about $16.7 million in 2026), Cross & Cross designed the structure in the Academic Classicism (sometimes called Academic Classical) style.  

The stately four-story base was distinguished by monumental, three-story fluted Corinthian pilasters.  Renaissance-inspired terra cotta panels of torches and shields separated the openings of the fourth floors.  The brick-faced midsection, or shaft, was unadorned; while a triple-height Corinthian colonnade at the top section echoed ancient Greek prototypes.

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Before the first shovel broke ground for the building, the owners had signed a lease for its major tenant.  On March 23, 1912, in reporting that construction contracts had been signed, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted, "It will be known as the Passavant Building."  

Passavant & Co. would occupy the basement and first through sixth floors.  In its December 1912 issue, The American Silk Journal commented, "The new building is a fitting monument to the great success which Passavant & Co. have obtained in the various mercantile fields which they are engaged in through their importing and commission business."  The article noted, "the builders have produced a magnificent structure which stands for the very latest word in modern office and loft building."

Founded on June 1, 1853 by Gebrüder Passavant on Broad Street, the commission firm dealt in "silks, ribbons, velvets, dress goods and other branches of foreign and domestic dry goods," according to The American Silk Journal.  The article mentioned, "The ten upper floors of the building are being rented to firms in the silk trade for lofts, offices and showrooms."

Among the other initial tenants were James H. Moffett & Co., importers of knit goods; the importing and commission house of Boessneck, Broesel & Co.; linen merchant Henry W. A. Page; and importer Remy, Schmidt & Pleissner.  The latter firm leased additional space in the building in March 1913, just a year after moving in.

Henry W. A. Page was described by The Evening World as a "wealthy, eccentric linen merchant."  When he relocated his business into the Passavant Building in January 1913, he was already in trouble with the Government.  His problems started in 1907 when his wife sued him for divorce.  When she was successful, Page railed that the courts were corrupt and pushed the United States Congress to investigate the New York judiciary.  When his appeals were ignored, he "made a bitter attack by letter on Chairman [Henry De Lamar] Clayton and other members of the Judiciary Committee," according to The New York Times.  He called Clayton and the House Committee "crooks."

Page was indicted and extradited to Washington to stand trial for criminal libel.  He was convicted and sentenced to five years imprisonment and a $1,000 fine.  But, reported The New York Times, "he was permitted to leave town on parole after promising to refrain from making attacks on public officers."

That promise turned out to be too difficult for Page to keep.  In May 1913, he sent a 113-page letter "by express" to President Woodrow Wilson, "asking for Executive assistance to right wrongs" which he had suffered by the New York State court and Government officials.  The Department of Justice responded by issuing a warrant for his arrest.

The wealthy businessman went on the lam.  On May 23, 1913, The Evening World reported that Secret Service men had gone to his office in the Passavant Building the previous night, saying, "employees of the building told them that Page had not been around for more than a week."  At the New York Athletic Club, where Page lived, they were told that he had left "early this week without giving any hint of his destination."  The Secret Service traced his baggage to Grand Central.  The Evening World said that the agents discovered that Page had gone either to Boston or Canada, "with the intention of sailing for England."  The New York Times noted, "the doors of his office were found locked, though it was said that employes [sic] had been carrying on the business in his absence."

It appeared that Page had successfully escaped capture.  But the firebrand could not contain his ire.  On March 1, 1914, The New York Times reported that members of the Diplomatic Corps had received letters "attacking President Wilson."  Sent from Seattle, they said in part that Wilson had "hired assassins to arrest him--presumably detectives obeying the order of the court."

In the meantime, a tenant definitely not part of the silk or textile industries at the time was the General Film Company.  The firm supplied silent movies to theaters.  In the spring of 1913, reels of film began disappearing and within 10 months, according to The New York Times, it "has lost films worth $150,000."  

A break in the mysterious case came early in January 1914 when a messenger boy told Harry Buxbaum, manager of General Film Company, that one of the company's movies was being shown in a theater on Second Avenue.  The Improved Film Company supplied that theater with films.  Detectives trailed a messenger boy from that firm to the Passavant Building.  They stopped George Brown as he left the building "with four films under his arms," reported The New York Times.  The well-planned scheme devised by Samuel Marcusson, the head of Improved Film Company, quickly unraveled.

Marcusson paid Brown and Martin Hilbert, an 18-year-old stock room boy, $2 and $3 each to purloin films.  Marcusson then presented himself as an agent of General Film Company to the various theaters' management.  At Marcusson's business, detectives discovered 47 General Film Company reels.  They were a fraction of the estimated 250 reels that had been stolen in the past year.  Marcusson pleaded guilty in court on March 16 and was sentenced to six months in prison.

Perhaps the first publishing firm to lease space in the building was Condé Nast & Co., publisher of Vogue magazine, which took the entire 10th floor in August 1915.  It was the scene of a bizarre accident a year later.  On October 31, 1916, the New-York Tribune reported that about six girls had worked overtime the previous evening.  "It was noticeably warm in the office.  One after another, and then in pairs, the girls tugged at the big window."  Unable to open it, they telephoned the building's office and Frank Mather, a porter, came up.

Mather tugged and tugged and finally the sash gave way.  But in doing so, the porter plunged out of the window.  A few seconds later, the automatic sprinklers in the Johnson, Cowdin & Co., ribbon manufacturers, triggered.  That initiated a response by the fire department.  

When firefighters arrived, they could find no blaze, although Johnson, Cowdin & Co. was being flooded.  The New-York Tribune wrote, "Some of the 'Vogue' girls, who had run screaming to the street, helped to solve the mystery."  They told the responders that Frank had fallen from the window.  "It must have killed him," they said.

The firefighters climbed to the roof of the single-story extension behind the building and discovered Mather unconscious, but not dead.  He had landed on the wire grating that protected the automatic sprinkler plug, "turning on water, fire alarm and burglar alarm," said the article.  Miraculously, the 47-year-old Mather survived the fall, although his condition was deemed serious.

Joining Condé Nast & Co. in the building were the publishing firms The Horseless Age and Hubbell-Leavens Company.  With America's entry into World War I, Hubbell-Leavens published Conspiracies In America in 1917.  Among the 17 chapter titles were "Germany Intermeddling with Mexican Affairs," "Germany's Spy System and Vandalism," and "America's Duty to Civilization."

Ironically, at the same time, Hans Jacobson was employed by the Audiger & Meyer Silk Company in the building.  The New-York Tribune explained on August 2, 1918, he had worked for the firm "since he came to this country from Germany, seven years ago."  The article said that Jacobson and a cohort had been arrested for conducting espionage for the Germany Government.  Both men confessed and revealed the complex details of their activities.

The building continued to house, mainly, publishing and silk firms.  Occupying space in the 1920s, for instance, were the Falcon Silk Company, the Roosevelt Silk Mills Corp., and silk merchants Ressell & Co.  Passavant & Co. remained here at least through 1929.

The 1930s saw more publishing companies in the Passavant Building: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.; Howe Publishing; and C. S. Hammond & Co., publishers of maps.  William Ogden Wiley was president of John Wiley & Sons, Inc., founded by his great-grandfather, Charles Wiley, in 1807.  William had been with the firm since 1890 and would become president in 1941.  William Ogden Wiley retired in 1956, but remained the honorary chairman of the firm until his death at 95 on January 15, 1958.

Appleton-Century-Crofts Publishing moved into the building around 1970.  Specializing in educational books, among its releases that year were Victorian Poets and Prose Writers, The American Novel Through Henry James, and Romantic Poets and Prose Writers.  The firm was acquired by Prentice-Hall in 1973, but retained its name and was still in the building as late as 2013.

Another long-lasting tenant was Dramatist Play Service, Inc., which moved in around 1995.  Established in 1936, it handles acting editions and performance rights of plays and remains in the building.

Cross & Cross's Passavant Building has been hailed by architectural critics throughout the decades.  Happily, renovations to the entrance and storefronts have not greatly altered the structure's appearance, and the heroic fluted pilasters still stand untouched.

photographs by the author

George F. Pelham's 1931 121 East 31st Street

 

After learning his trade in the architectural office of his father, George Brown Pelham, George Fred Pelham opened his own office in 1890.  Having earned a solid reputation as a designer of apartment buildings and hotels, in 1930 developers Psaty & Fuhrman commissioned him to design an apartment building at 119 through 125 East 31st Street.

Pelham routinely drew from historic styles and for 121 East 31st Street he turned to the English Regency period.  Completed in 1931, the 12-story-and-penthouse structure was faced in red brick, its setbacks starting at the tenth floor perfectly symmetrical.  Pelham was perhaps inspired by the elegant 18th century designs of Robert Adam in the tracery above the doorway, the double-height fluted pilasters with lotus capitals that flanked it, and the delicate swagged frieze above the second floor.

George Fred Pelham released this rendering in 1930.  The New York Sun, May 3, 1930.

Among the initial residents were Dr. Harrison I. Cook, who leased the penthouse on March 22, 1931, and Marcus Meltzer.  Cook graduated from Bellevue Medical College in 1911 and Meltzer was the chief statistician of the National Bureau of Casualty and Surety Underwriters.

Born in 1883, Meltzer was born in Russia and was brought to America by his parents at the age of eight.  The New York Times said, "He was widely known for his work, not only in his field but among societies and associations, and was a writer and lecturer on his subject."  Meltzer's passion for statistical work spilled into his private life.  While other male residents in the building may have been members of social, political or athletic organizations, he belonged to the American Statistical Association, the Casualty Actuarial Society and the Association of Casualty and Surety Accountants and Statisticians.  He was one of the founders and the secretary of the latter society.

Meltzer was a bachelor and apparently shared his apartment with a roommate.  His enjoyment of his new home would be extremely brief.  He left his office on March 17, 1931 at around 8:00 "in apparently good health," according to The New York Times.  A doctor was called to the apartment around 2 a.m., presumably by Meltzer's roommate, who found the 48-year-old dead.  He had suffered a fatal heart attack.

photograph by Lowell Cochrane

Crawford Blagden and his wife, the former Mary Hopkins, were also initial residents.  The couple was married on October 7, 1911 and had one son, Crawford, Jr., who was born in 1912.  For some reason, the younger Blagden went to live with his father's brother, Francis Meredith Blagden, and his wife, the former Lydia Lawrence Mason Jones, at Sloatsburg, New York shortly after the family moved into 121 East 31st Street.

Francis and Lydia were married on August 22, 1917.  Lydia was previously married to Francis's and Crawford's older brother, Albert Campbell Blagden, who died in 1915.  Crawford Jr. was living with them when his engagement to Mary Kernochan, daughter of Chief Justice Frederic Kernochan was announced on April 18, 1933.

Benjamin S. and Carolyn Pulitzer moved into the building that year.  Pulitzer was president of Mayfair Cravats, Inc. a men's neckwear company.  Apparently the couple over-indulged on the night of April 28 that year.  At 8:30 the following evening, she went to the office of Dr. Frank H. Russell, her regular physician, "suffering from the after-effects of intoxication," according to The New York Times.  

Russell administered what the newspaper described as "an overdose of morphine."  Carolyn Pulitzer fell unconscious and the next morning, at 4:30, Dr. Russell took her home in a cab.  Carolyn later testified that "a hallboy in the apartment house had helped the doctor get her to her apartment."  She said Russell tipped the hallboy from change from her purse.  That was not the only thing the doctor slipped from her bag.  

When Carolyn awoke later, she discovered $12,000 worth of Mayfair Cravats, Inc. stock was missing.  In court, Russell admitted he took the stock, "but was holding it until she completed payment for treatments."  Carolyn Pulitzer, "said she thought she owed about $40 or $50, but that he maintained the bill was $200."  (None of those amounts would necessitate a $12,000 guarantee.)  The startling case was dismissed when Carolyn, somewhat surprisingly, agreed to drop charges if Russell returned the stocks upon her paying his bill.

William Russell and Walter Kaufman shared an apartment here in the summer of 1937.  They, along with Augusta Merten, took the train to Silver Point at East Rockaway on July 28 to enjoy the beach.  They had dinner later, then "decided to go bathing again," reported The Rockaway News.  Augusta was a few yards ahead of Russell and Kaufman in the water when she was swept up by the undertow and carried out.  As Russell and Kaufman swam to rescue her, an off-duty patrolman Joseph Lynch, "who was bathing nearby," joined the effort.

Lynch and Kaufman were able to pull the woman to the beach, but quickly realized that Russell was missing.  The Rockaway News reported, "Life Guard Roy Bower of Woodmere found Russell's body floating in the water a few hundred feet from where he had gone down."  Surprisingly, the 48-year-old had not drowned--an autopsy showed no water in his lungs.  The doctor deemed his death, "from a heart attack resulting from the excitement of attempting to rescue Mrs. Merten."

Dr. Harrison I. Cook was still living here on November 6, 1941 when he hosted a glittering dinner party in the Trianon Room of the Ambassador Hotel in honor of the engagement of Mildred L. Martens and Lt. George De Metropolis of the U.S. Navy.  Among the 40 guests listed in The New York Times, understandably, were several military officers and their wives.

Living here at the time were Lewis E. and Florence G. Birdseye, born in 1873 and 1874 respectively.  Until 1931, when Lewis was appointed the general agent for the St. John's Guild, a charitable institution established in the 1890s, he was superintendent of the Jewish Hospital in Brooklyn.  Lewis was at his desk in his office at 1 East 42nd Street on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, 1942, when he collapsed with a fatal heart attack.

A month later, another resident, Marc MacCollum, laid plans to find a weekend retreat.  His ad in The Rhinebeck Gazette on January 28, 1943, read: "Wanted--I would like to hear from someone who would like to have a paying guest over weekends.  I have simple but clean tastes and like to saw wood."

Ray W. Thompson and his wife did not need to rely on someone else's country home for respite.  On October 5, at the end of the summer social season of 1950, The East Hampton Star announced, "Mr. and Mrs. Ray W. Thompson have left Amagansett for their New York home, 121 East 31st Street."

An interesting resident was Dr. Tibor Eckhardt.  His wife, the former Judy Dwyer, died in 1966.  Born in Makó, Hungary in 1888, he studied at the Universities of Budapest, Paris and Berlin, earning a Doctor of Jurisprudence degree.  He served in the Hungarian Ministry of the Interior, the Hungarian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and in 1920 served in the Premier's office.  He was elected to the Hungarian Parliament in 1922.

Dr. Tibor Eckhardt in 1931.  (original source unknown)

At the time, Hungary was experiencing what was known as the "White Terror"--a period when leftist intellectuals, especially Jews, were being purged.  In 1923, Eckhart joined the Smallholders Party, the leading faction of the Hungarian Opposition. He became its president in 1934 and was Hungary's chief delegate to the League of Nations in 1935.  

That year he joined the Democratic Opposition, which was fighting against the growing Nazi movement.  When Hungary sided with Germany during the war, Eckhardt escaped to the United States in 1941.

Here he initiated a movement for the restoration of Hungarian independence that would spread world-wide.  He helped organize the Hungarian National Council in 1948 and was a member of its executive committee.  He sat on the Assembly of Captive European Nations in 1954.  While living here in 1972, he published, From Yalta to Potsdam.

In 1975 the residents of 121 East 31st Street lost what some might have seen as a nostalgic reminder of the 1931 era--the elevator operator.  On March 30, The New York Times reported that the new owners, Teitelbaum Holdings, "plans to automate the elevators in the 96-unit apartment house, but not to make other major changes."

photograph by Lowell Cochrane

Outwardly, George Fred Pelham's dignified design survives essentially intact.

many thanks to reader Lowell Cochrane for suggesting this post

Charles E. Birge's 1908 290 Fifth Avenue

 

Before the outbreak of the Civil War, millionaires had ventured north of 23rd Street along Fifth Avenue, erecting opulent mansions.  Three blocks south of the John Jacob Astor III and William Backhouse Astor residences, which filled the western blockfront between 33rd and 34th Streets, was the home of John J. Osborne, at 290 Fifth Avenue.

There was upheaval within the Osborne's domestic staff in the winter of 1865.  On December 10, the French butler, George Sausen, had the cook arrested for grand larceny.  The New York Times reported that Matilda Cassidy "stole three bottles of wine, valued at $16, and $35 in cash...The wine was the property of her employer, while the money belonged to two of the female servants in the house."  The wine was found in Matilda's room and the cash "in her pocket."

The days of smart broughams at the curb and butlers at the door were over by the turn of the century.  Mansions were razed or converted for business.  In March 1906, Irving E. Raymond leased the converted Osborne mansion.  The Real Estate Record & Guide reported that he would build a 12-story business building "in connection with Nos. 286 and 288 5th av., which are owned by Mr. Raymond."

Irving E. Raymond was president of A. A. Vantine & Co., dealers in Oriental rugs and carpets.  Perhaps because Isabel C. Nash refused to sell 290 Fifth Avenue in 1908--instead renewing Raymond's lease (this time for 21 years)--Raymond rethought the plan to build a large office building on a site that was only two-thirds owned by him.

Instead, in March his architect, Charles E. Birge, filed plans for a six-story "brick and stone office building" at 290 Fifth Avenue that would cost Raymond $40,000 to erect--about $1.37 million in 2024 terms.

The completed building was as much glass as it was masonry.  Five stories of metal infill allowed for vast tripart windows that flooded the interiors with natural light.  A terra cotta frame of ornate tiles embraced the upper floors.  Below the deeply overhanging cornice was an elaborate frieze of terra cotta.

Among the initial tenants were Paul Block, Inc. and Ph. Weinberg's Sons & Co.  Paul Block had started his advertising agency in 1900 and incorporated in 1908.  It was the exclusive national advertising representative for a number of newspapers and magazines.  By the time the firm moved into 290 Fifth Avenue, it had branch offices in Boston and Chicago.

Ph. Weinberg's Son & Co., "makers of fine furs," was reflective of the high-end shops along Fifth Avenue.  The store offered a wide variety of items, from mink neckpieces with "muff to match," to Alaska seal coats priced at $800 in 1909 (a staggering $27,300 in today's money).  An advertisement in The New York Times on November 21, 1909 listed three types of "automobile" coats: a ladies' coat, "coats for chauffeurs," and natural raccoon coats.

In 1912, Ph. Weinberg's Sons & Co. was succeeded by Grace Co.  It continued to do business from the address, and assured customers, "the old policy of high quality and a new policy of low prices will prevail."

In the meantime, the upper floors filled with apparel firms.  In 1914, Freeman Brothers hatters leased the third floor and in 1916 L. Lyman & Co., makers of dresses and headwear for children, and Alexander A. Bernstein, an importer and manufacturer of furs, took space.  

Alexander A. Bernstein, who was born in Plock, Poland in February 1880, was an interesting figure.  According to Distinguished Jews of America in 1917, he was "as a youngster an efficient cantor, and when he came here he was probably the first boy to officiate at services with the assistance of a choir."

Alexander A. Bernstein.  Distinguished Jews of America, 1917 (copyright expired)

One congregant of Bernstein's synagogue on Henry Street, "took a fancy to him, introduced him to some gentlemen connected with the fur industry, and he drifted into the line."  It signaled the beginning of Bernstein's business career and the end of his singing.

In 1916, the same year that L. Lyman & Co. and Alexander A. Bernstein moved in, Samuel Schwartz Sons & Co., "pictures," signed a lease on the ground floor store.  The gallery staged exhibitions over the coming years, like the showing of more than 60 etchings by Frank Brangwyn that opened in March 1918.

The 1920s saw the building still filled with apparel firms, most of them makers of dresses, coats and suits.  From the mid-1930s into the 1940s the Tenth Assembly District Republican Organization had its offices in the building.  Reminiscent of Irving E. Raymond, the Persian Mercantile Co. and the Anglo Persian Mercantile Co., importers of Iranian rugs, operated from the address at the time.

The cornice survived in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

By the third quarter of the century, the Garment District had moved past 34th Street and this section of Fifth Avenue was filled with garish shops and often transitory businesses.  Among the tenants of 290 Fifth Avenue in 1988 was The Skin & Hair Rejuvenation Center, which offered Minoxidil/Retin-A treatments that promised to "regrow fuller and more-youthful new hair."

At some point the cornice was removed and the storefront remodeled.  But, overall, Charles E. Birge's 1908 design survives surprisingly intact.

photographs by the author

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The Robert Edward Livingston House - 271 Fifth Avenue

 

Less than two decades after the first mansion was built on Fifth Avenue just above Washington Square, development reached above 23rd Street.  In 1851, Deborah Wood operated an exclusive boarding house in the brownstone fronted mansion at 271 Fifth Avenue between 29th and 30th Streets.  

At 26-feet-wide and four stories tall above a high English basement, the house held its own among the stately homes in the neighborhood.  Its arched entrance was crowned with a grand, broken-arched pediment filled with carved vines and an ornate cartouche.

Wood's few, select boarders were well-to-do.  From 1851 to 1854, for instance, they were all politically connected with Tammany Hall.  Abraham M. Valentine (who died here in 1855) was the Grand Marshal at the cornerstone laying for Tammany Hall.  His son, William P. Valentine, also held a city government job.  William Gage's position as the chairman of the Board of Assessors was a Tammany appointed job.

In 1864, Robert Edward Livingston and his wife, the former Susan Maria Clarkson de Peyster, purchased 271 Fifth Avenue.  The couple, who had married a decade earlier on December 19, 1854, had three children when they moved in: Catherine Goodhue, Robert Reginald, and Edward de Peyster.  A fourth child, Goodhue, would arrive in 1867.

Robert Livingston descended from one of the oldest and most distinguished families in New York.  The Livingstons arrived in the Dutch Republic in the 17th century.  Both of his parents, Edward Philip and Elizabeth Stevens, were Livingstons.  The New York Times said, "Through his mother, he was a descendant of Robert R. Livingston, who, as Chancellor of the State of New York, swore in George Washington as President of the United States, and who, with Gouverneur Morris and John Jay, drew up the Constitution of the State."  Both Robert's grandfathers--Robert R. Livingston and Philip Livingston--signed the Declaration of Independence.

Susan's pedigree was no less impressive.  Like the Livingstons, the De Peysters arrived in America in the 17th century.  Abraham de Peyster was born in New Amsterdam in 1657.  He would become the mayor of New York City in 1691 and serve as Governor in 1700 and 1701.  Susan's grandfather was a member of George Washington's staff during the Revolution.

The family's country estate, Clermont, was on the Hudson River between Tivoli-on-the-Hudson and Germantown, New York.  The main house was originally a Georgian style mansion, built around 1740.  It was burned nearly to the ground by the British and rebuilt as a near copy of the original by Margaret Beekman Livingston with the war still going on.

Robert Edward Livingston was listed in directories as a "gentleman," meaning that he lived on inherited wealth.  He died in the mansion on January 20, 1889 at the age of 68.  His funeral was not held in the house, as would have been expected, but at Grace Church.  The Sun reported, "interment will take place on the same day at Tivoli-on-the-Hudson." 

The family was at Clermont for the holidays in 1891 when disaster was averted in the Fifth Avenue house.  On December 29, The Sun reported, "Firemen invaded last night the house of Mrs. Robert E. Livingston at 271 Fifth avenue, and ran a hose up to the fifth floor."  A servant had discovered a fire in a closet in her room.  It was quickly extinguished, causing damages of only about $100 (just under $3,500 in 2024).

Edward de Peyster Livingston graduated from Columbia University in 1882 and Columbia Law School two years later.  His brother Goodhue graduated from Columbia in 1888, and received his Ph.B. in architecture in 1892. 

Catherine involved herself in charitable works and social endeavors.  On March 28, 1892, for instance, the New York Evening Telegram reported, "Whether it is a 'Lenten card party' or simply a card party without any specific reference to the season--will not probably mar the pleasure of the entertainment at the home of Mrs. [sic] C. G. Livingston, of No. 271 Fifth avenue, this evening.  The card club that has been in existence two years and has six meetings each Lent, will hold its fifth meeting of the season at the home of Miss Livingston to-night."

In 1894, Goodhue partnered with Stockton B. Colt and Samuel Breck Parkman Trowbridge to form the architectural firm Trowbridge, Livingston & Colt.  When Colt left in 1897, the firm became Trowbridge & Livingston.  The partners would design some of Manhattan's most recognizable buildings, including the St. Regis Hotel, the B. Altman & Co. building, and the Bankers Trust Company.   

Goodhue married Louisa Robb on April 8, 1896 and the couple established their home elsewhere.  But following Robert's marriage to Mary Tailer, the couple initially moved into 271 Fifth Avenue.

In 1897, Susan and Catherine spent the summer in Seabright, New Jersey rather than Clermont.  On July 7, the New York Journal and Advertiser reported, "Mrs. Robert E. Livingston and her daughter, Miss C. G. Livingston, of No. 271 Fifth avenue, New York, are sojourning here at the Octagon."  It is unclear where Robert and Mary spent that summer, but their return was annoyingly delayed.  On October 24, 1897, The World remarked, "Mr. and Mrs. Robert Livingston have not yet opened their home, No. 271 Fifth avenue, on account of the shocking condition of the street, which is impassable and unsightly."

Robert and Mary soon moved to 9 East 9th Street.  They spent part of the winter season of 1898-99 in Hot Springs, Virginia, and had just returned home when Robert fell ill on April 9.  He died a week later on April 16.

In the meantime, Susan and her unmarried children, Edward and Catherine, lived on in the Fifth Avenue house long after fashion had moved northward.  Society journalists tracked their movements and on December 12, 1901, the New-York Tribune reported, "Mrs. Robert E. Livingston and Miss Catherine Livingston have returned to town from Tivoli, and are at their home, in Fifth-ave."

Lower Fifth Avenue was no longer the quiet residential thoroughfare it had been in 1864 when the Livingstons moved into 271 Fifth Avenue.  In preparation for the widening of the avenue in 1909, Susan was ordered to remove the stoop.  Not surprisingly, she hired her son's firm to do the work.  On May 19, the New-York Tribune reported, 

Trowbridge & Livingston, architects have filed plans for remodelling [sic] the old four story high stoop brownstone dwelling house No. 271 Fifth avenue into an American basement house...The old main entrance will be converted into a French casement window.  Over the entrance will be an ornamental grille railing, forming a small balcony.

In 1941, the magnificent pediment over the former doorway and the window enframements survived, as did Trowbridge & Livingston's "ornamental grille railing" above the entrance.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Nine months after that notice, on February 10, 1910, Susan de Peyster Livingston died in the Fifth Avenue house at the age of 87.  In reporting her death, The New York Times recalled that she had been born in the house that her grandfather, General Matthew Clarkson, had erected at the corner of Whitehall and Pearl Streets, and that her present home "is now one of the last private houses in that part of Fifth Avenue."

Neither Catherine nor Edward would marry.  They stubbornly remained in the house in which they had grown up, while all around them the mansions of their former neighbors were either converted for business or razed for commercial buildings.

In the years preceding World War I, Catherine's mobility was gradually impaired.  By the onset of the Depression, according to The New York Times, she was "restricted to a regiment of increased invalidism, consisting of short drives in a motor and her Summer sojourn at Southampton."  On December 18, 1931, the newspaper reported, "Miss Catherine Goodhue Livingston, member of one of New York State's most distinguished families, died yesterday at her home, 271 Fifth Avenue, where she had lived all her live."  The article noted, "The Livingston property of Clermont, on the Hudson, has been in the possession of the family since the original grant from Queen Anne."

A month later almost to the day, on January 20, 1932, The New York Times reported, "Edward De Peyster Livingston...died last night at the age of 70 in his home at 271 Fifth Avenue."  His funeral was held in the Church of the Transfiguration the next morning. 

Not surprising, the last private mansion in the neighborhood was quickly converted.  A renovation completed in 1934 resulted in a store on the first and second floors, with two apartments per floor above.  Despite the significant changes, it is not difficult to imagine a time when one of the wealthiest and most socially prominent families in New York occupied the venerable structure.

photographs by the author

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The Rev. John Leighton Wilson House - 47 East 30th Street

 

Born in Sumter, South Carolina on March 25, 1809, John Leighton Wilson graduated from Columbia Theological Seminary in 1833, sailing almost immediately to West Africa for the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions.

Rev. John Leighton Wilson (original source unknown).

After helping establish a mission in Cape Palmas, Liberia, he worked with the people there until 1834, when he returned to America to marry Mary Elizabeth Bayard, the daughter of a prominent Savannah, Georgia family.  The newlyweds sailed back to Cape Palmas that year to work with the Grebo people.  Over the years, the Wilsons created schools, translated school books, hymns, and parts of the Bible into Grebo, and helped establish other missions.

The Wilsons returned to America in 1852 due to John's health issues.  He was elected Secretary for the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions in New York located at 23 Centre Street, and shortly afterward purchased the newly built house at 47 East 30th Street.

Their 19-foot-wide home was four stories tall above a low English basement.  Anglo-Italianate in design, it was faced in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Ornate Italianate ironwork protected the areaway and stoop.  The first floor openings were fully arched and set within deeply molded frames.  A stone bandcourse introduced the upper floors, and a wooden cornice with a latticework frieze capped the design.

The wooden latticework below the cornice is unusual.

Although the Wilsons were ardent abolitionists, in 1861 (either just before or after the first shot in the Civil War), they returned to the South.

While the Wilsons occupied 47 East 30th Street, Harriet Hunter ran an upscale boarding house on Union Square.  On November 1, 1861, she announced in the New York Herald, "Mrs. Hunter has removed from No. 30 Union square, to No. 47 East thirtieth street, where she can accommodate a few persons for the winter."

Among her first boarders were the unmarried Sayre sisters, Ophelia, Emily A. and Elizabeth H.  The women may have been newcomers to New York City, since they joined the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church that same year.

An ad placed in the New York Herald on February 12, 1862 caught the eye of Ebenezer Storer.  "Mrs. Hunter, 47 East Thirtieth Street, has two pleasant Rooms for rent; one suitable for a physician's office.  Possession immediately."  Dr. Storer took the room and lived and practiced there at least through 1880.

Among the boarders in 1864 through 1866 were John H. Anthon and his wife.  Highly involved in civic and charitable causes, Anthon was an inspector of public schools, and his wife was the First Directress of the Orphan Asylum Society of the City of New-York in Bloomingdale (today's Upper West Side).  

By 1867, Elizabeth J. Hunter (presumably Harriet's daughter) was operating the boarding house.  Either she or one of her boarders lost a valuable pet in 1870.  An announcement in the New York Herald on April 28 read: 

Lost--April 27, a small green parrot, with red bead [sic] and red feathers in tail; he is a little larger than a canary; $20 reward will be given to anyone who will return him to 47 East Thirtieth street.  He is the gift of a friend, therefore particularly valuable to the owner.  

The sizable reward would translate to more than $450 in 2024.

Dr. Ebenezer Storer was an ardent proponent of temperance.  In 1874 he joined a long list of physicians who signed a "medical declaration" to the State and Federal Governments that said in part, "We are of [the] opinion that the use of alcoholic liquor as a beverage is productive of a large amount of physical disease; that it entails diseased appetites upon offspring; and that it is the cause of a large percentage of the crime and pauperism of our cities and country."  The declaration proposed state and federal laws that would "confine the traffic in alcohol to the legitimate purposes of medical and other sciences, art, and mechanism."

Laura M. Thorpe, who "belongs to one of the most fashionable families of Philadelphia," according to The National Police Gazette, took rooms in the house in 1878.  The newspaper described her as "a handsome blonde of about twenty-five years."  Her husband, Gould H. Thorpe, a "wealthy produce merchant" had sued her for divorce earlier that year "on the ground of infidelity to her marriage vows."  The indiscretion had been carried out with one of New York's wealthiest young men, Lloyd Phoenix, the son of Philip Phoenix and the grandson of Stephen Whitney.

Both Laura Thorpe and Lloyd Phoenix were "well known among New York 'society' people," said The National Police Gazette.  Their illicit relationship had caused what the journal on January 11, 1879 called "a social scandal which for months has been the talk of the up-town clubs and of 'fashionable' society circles."  On December 26, 1878, the scandal became even more public.  Laura Thorpe sued Phoenix for a physical attack in her rooms here.

According to Mrs. Thorpe, on December 18 Phoenix came to her rooms and demanded his love letters, fearful that they would be used as evidence in her divorce case.  When she refused, he seized an iron poker "and with this formidable domestic weapon inflicted several blows," according to The National Police Gazette.  The article continued,

Then, as she further alleges, Mr. Phoenix, by no means satisfied with the frightful havoc he had made with her beauty, seized a chair and augmented the bruises, wounds and dislocations by at least two.  After that he, so she claims, took from the mantel a majolica vase, which she specifically says cost $20, and with violence threw it at her, thereby breaking it into fragments.

Hearing the crash, two servants rush into the room and Mrs. Thorpe directed one of them to find a policeman.  Phoenix fled.

The National Police Gazette reporter asked Laura Thorpe why Phoenix would think that beating her would prompt her to relinquish the letters.  He recounted the ensuing conversation:

"Oh!  It is not the first time he has done such a thing, and this time he tried to kill me," said Mrs. Thorpe.

"Do you mean that he has beaten you before this?" 

"Twice before this," she replied, "On one occasion he lamed me seriously by the violence of his blows. This time he pointed a revolver at me and was fingering the trigger, when I knocked it from his hand and screamed for help." 

In 1880, Dr. Augustine Arrango shared Storer's office, most likely during a transitional phase.  In 1881 only Arrango was listed here.   

That year, on April 2, Virgil Lopez was sitting in Arrango's waiting room.  Through the window he noticed another patient, Elvina De Molina ascending the stoop.  Suddenly, 14-year-old James Goss rushed up, grabbed Elvina's pocketbook and ran.  Almost before she could realize what had happened, Goss ran down the stoop in pursuit of the teenage purse snatcher.  At the corner of 31st Street and Fourth Avenue (today's Park Avenue South), Goss tackled and overcame the youth.  The New York Times said on April 3, 1881, "The lad was arraigned before Justice Flammer, at the Jefferson Market Police Court, and committed for trial in default of $500 bail."

Never married, Elizabeth J. Hunter died in 1889 and bequeathed 47 East 30th Street to Sarah F. Richards, most likely a relative.  She leased it that year to Dr. John Warren, who would occupy the doctor's office and rent rooms in the upper floors.  Unlike the Hunter women's fashionable boarders, most of Warren's were in the theatrical profession.

Among the earliest was Charles Franklyn Henry De Witt Chatterton, who had for years been private secretary to theatrical manager Henry E. Abbey.  The New York Times called Chatterton "one of the best known and most highly esteemed of the theatrical people of this country."  Somewhat interestingly, when Chatterton was bedridden in the spring of 1891, he did not consult his landlord doctor.  On May 9, The New York Clipper reported, "The condition of Charles P. Chatterton, who has been ill with consumption, at his home, No. 47 West Thirtieth Street, this city, was reported last week as being somewhat improved. Dr. Curtis said the hemorrhages were practically over, and, although the sick man was in a critical condition, it was hoped he would rally."

Chatterton's recurring condition proved fatal three years later.  When he died on October 11, 1894, The New York Times mentioned, "He had been subject to hemorrhages for a long time, and three times within the last three years attacks of this kind have been so severe that his life has been despaired of."

Boarding at 47 East 30th Street at the time were four other theatrical professionals--the married couple Grace Sherwood and Jerome Sykes, 22-year-old actor Ulysses Alton, and 28-year-old John Walton, also an actor.  Grace Sherwood was described by the New York Press as "one of the most popular and charming women in her profession," and her husband was stage manager of the Bostonians.  She became pregnant while living here, and had to give up her role of Chollie Kell in Passing Show.

Tragically, Grace died here on May 2, 1894 while giving birth to twins.  In reporting her death, the New York Press said, "Mrs. Sykes was well known and liked in the profession."

In 1894, both Walton and Alton would be in trouble with police.  The first was John Walton, who landed a role in Mr. Barnes of New York that year.  On September 5, 1894, Walton and a friend, William Harvey walked up Sixth Avenue with two women, dropping them off at 30th Street.  As the females walked away, Walton accused, "You made a fool of me before those women," according to the New York Sun, which noted, "Harvey contradicted him with an oath."

With that Waldon pulled out a knife and made several slashes to Harvey's clothing, but failed to wound him.  The New York Sun reported, "Policeman McDonald, who jumped off a Sixth avenue car just then, arrested the fighters and took them to the West Thirtieth street station.  Walton was bailed out by Shanly, the restaurant keeper."

Ulysses Alton was behind bars a month later.  On October 13, 1894, he and another actor, John E. McGoward, stepped into the cigar store next to Daly's Theatre.  While there, according to The Press, their "discussion waxed warm, and Alton grabbed an automatic slot machine and hit McGowan on the head, inflicting serious scalp wounds."

In 1896, Sarah Richard offered the house for lease again, describing it as an "unfurnished, four-story brown-stone and brick English basement dwelling; newly painted and decorated."  The new proprietor seems to have replaced the sometimes troublesome theater tenants with professionals like Benjamin Orne, a stockbroker.

Sarah Richard's son, J. Swift Richards, sold 47 East 30th Street to Sheppard K. de Forest in September 1913.  He quickly remodeled it into bachelor apartments.  

The New York Times, September 7, 1913 (copyright expired)

Among the initial tenants was N. Val Peavey, a pianist who used his apartment here as his New York teaching studio.  (He lived in Brooklyn.)   Another was stockbroker John F. Murphy, who had started in the brokerage business in 1898.  He and his wife lived here until his death on September 3, 1918.

In 1941, the Italianate ironwork and other Victorian details were intact.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

By mid-century the once elegant neighborhood had significantly changed.  A renovation completed in 1948, resulted in a veterinarian office on the ground floor, a kennel in the basement, and a triplex apartment on the second through fourth floors.

Surprisingly, a veterinarian office still occupies the ground floor.  Today there are six apartments in the former Wilson house--its former elegance lost to paint, abuse and a commercial awning.

photographs by the author

UPDATE:  The building is scheduled for demolition in March 2026