The 1915 Burton Building - 267 Fifth Avenue

 

image via 267fifthave.com

The exclusive Calumet Club moved into the two brick-and-brownstone mansions at the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 29th Street in 1886.  The relentless expansion of the commercial district had forced the club's members to migrate northward and necessitated its relocation to 12 West 56th Street in 1914.  The following year, on April 17, 1915, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the combined Fifth Avenue mansions had been sold.  "The new owners will erect an eleven-story structure for their own occupancy," explained the article.

The owners were Frank V., John H. and Crawford Burton, and Howard F. Clark, partners in Burton Brothers & Co., "one of the largest cotton goods manufacturers in the country," as described by The New York Times.  Two months later, the architectural firm of Starrett & Van Vleck filed plans for a "fire-proof warehouse" to cost $350,000 (about $11.6 million in 2026 terms).  

Frank V. and John H. Burton were the heads of Burton Brothers & Co. and it is likely that they gave Starrett & Van Vleck significant input.  On July 4, 1915, The New York Times remarked that they "have long been prominent in the realty world for their partiality to high-class Fifth Avenue property."  

Despite the plan's initial description, the Burton Building was decidedly not a warehouse.  Completed in 1915, the architects designed it in a commercial take on Colonial architecture.  (The New York Times would later comment, "The architecture is a careful adaptation of the American Colonial to the requirements of a building of that type.")  Its three-story limestone base featured a double-height level arcade, the upper windows of which mimicked elegant fan lights.  The mid- and upper sections were clad in gray brick and two-story arches at the 10th- and 11th-floors echoed the base.  Most eye-catching was the brick crown of piers that supported a pergola.  That roof garden was almost assuredly the idea of the Burtons.  The New York Times described it on February 13, 1916:

One of its most attractive features is the main roof tiled throughout and inclosed [sic] on side and overhead with iron screens filled in with heavy wire mesh, affording all employes [sic] in the building a splendid recreation space for their noon hour.

from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

The Burtons did not forget themselves in planning the building.  The article said:

In addition to the roof garden an attractive parlor or rest room for the members of the firm has been provided in lieu of the usual pent house, to which a sleeping room is connected with baths, for the convenience of those who may be forced to work overtime in the rush period and thereby miss the customary train to the suburban homestead and family dinner.

Because the Church of the Transfiguration (known as the Little Church Around the Corner) sat directly behind the Burton Building, Starrett & Van Vleck was able to place "generous window space on all sides," as reported by The New York Times, "making it as attractive on the rear as on the street sides."

As The Times had pointed out, John H. Burton was, indeed, highly active in the protection of the district.  He was the chairman of the Save New York Committee in 1916, the goal of which was "to preserve the heart of the City, from 33rd to 59th Streets and from Third to Seventh Avenues, from destruction by factories and to rehabilitate the lower and deserted part of New York City."  (Five years later, the Save New York Committee would move its headquarters into the Burton Building.)

Burton Brothers & Co. did not occupy the entire building, and quickly tenants moved in.  Among them in the first years of the 1920s were the New York office of the Pennsylvania-based Eddystone Manufacturing, "finishers of fine fabric;" the Mohawk Glove Corporation, which occupied the entire top floor; the Waite Grass Carpet Company; and the Philadelphia-based Colonial Knitting Mills.

A Mohawk Glove Corporation ad included a depiction of the Burton Building.  The Glovers' Review, December 1921 (copyright expired)

Frank Vincent Burton, a founder of Burton Brothers & Co., was a widower with five children.  On November 20, 1919, at the age of 65, he married Claire Louise Hyllsted.  Less than three years later, on March 12, 1922, he died leaving an estate equal to $24 million today.  (Claire estimated it as being closer to $10 million, or $186 million today.)  Burton excluded Claire from his will and a long-fought and ugly legal battle soon began as Claire sued her five step-children. 

from the collection of the New York Public Library

In the spring of 1923, a branch of the Chemical National Bank opened in part of the ground floor.  At the time, the offices of the Silk Publishing Company were on the third floor; and S. Craig Preston & Company, dealers in "gift and art wares;" and the New York Office of Thos. L. Leedom Co., makers of rugs, were also in the building.

Bromley Manufacturing Company leased the second floor, engulfing 5,000 square feet, in 1925.  The Carpet and Upholstery Trade Review described the firm as "manufacturers of fringed lace curtains, fringed Lever and fringed silk curtains, novelty lace edge curtains, drapery nets, etc."  Another curtain firm, the newly formed Cooper & De Luna Corporation moved in in 1926.  The Decorative Furnisher explained that the firm distributed "ruffled and novelty curtains and damasks and light weight silks."

On September 4, 1930, The New York Times reported that architect C. B. French had been hired to make $7,000 in renovations.  It was most likely at this time that the roof garden and pergola were demolished.

As early as 1940, the rooftop structure had been removed.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A minor tenant here in 1931 was Abraham Holtz, a wholesale jeweler who occupied an office on the eighth floor.  Holtz was alone in the office just before noon on August 22 that year when two young men barged in.  The New York Times reported that, "using their fists as their only weapons," the thugs "gagged him, tied his coat over his head and then collected eight watches, a bracelet, a platinum wedding ring and three unset diamonds."  The youths escaped with about $1,500 worth of jewelry.  

Burton Brothers, Inc. faced charges by the Federal Trade Commission in 1943.  The firm marketed its "Burton's Irish Poplin" to shirt manufacturers with a picture of a shamrock.  The FTC charged that the material "is represented to be made in Ireland or of Irish goods" while, in fact, "it is an American product."

The Burton Building continued to house, mostly, dry goods related tenants through the 1940s.  Among them were the Nassau Textile Company, the American Soil Sponge Selling Group, and the National Association of Bedding Manufacturers.

The second half of the century saw more corporate offices moving in.  In the 1950s and '60s, the law firms Levin, Rosmarin & Schwartz and Rothenberg, Levin, Cohen and Schwartz operated here, as did the consulting firms of Arthur Deutz, Inc. and Francis Wadsworth James.

In September 1980, the Burton Building was sold "to a foreign investment group headed by Dr. B. Bastiyali of Dusseldorf, West Germany, for $2.35 million," according to The New York Times.  A renovation completed in 1983 resulted in a "dry goods store" in the lower five floors and a "wholesale establishment" in the upper portion, including the new penthouse level, according to the Department of Buildings.

A recent photograph reveals the remodeled base and the glass-enclosed penthouse. image via 267fifthave.com 

A subsequent two-year renovation initiated in 2017 included  the remodeling of the ground floor.  Starrett & Van Vleck's arched openings were enlarged and squared off.  

many thanks to reader Doug Wheeler for prompting this post

The 1910 Mills & Gibb Buildilng - 300 Park Avenue South

 

photograph by "Eden, Janine and Jim"

On February 22, 1910, two days after its final service was celebrated, demolition began on the 1855 Fourth Avenue Presbyterian Church.  The previous month, The American Carpet & Upholstery Journal had reported that, "The well-known importing and jobbing firm of Mills & Gibb" had purchased the church property at the northwest corner of Fourth Avenue and 22nd Street "for the erection of a sixteen-story building for their exclusive use."

Philo L. Mills and John Gibb established the firm in 1865.  It dealt in dry goods with a focus on lace and linen.  Saying that the new building "will be in the heart of the new business district," The American Carpet & Upholstery Journal said it "means additional room for the expanding business."

The original concept of a 16-story structure had been scaled back by May when The American Carpet & Upholstery Journal reported, "The new building of Mills & Gibb...will be an imposing fourteen-story affair.  The architects are Godwin, Stearritt & Van Bleck."  The journalist had grossly gotten the firm's name wrong.  The architect was the respected firm of Starrett & Van Vleck.

Completed in 1910, the Mills & Gibb Building's tripartite Renaissance Revival design included a three-story rusticated limestone base.  Stores sat behind a double-height arcade along the ground floor.  Each arch was capped with a Renaissance inspired shield--some blind and others carved with intricate designs.  They reappeared in the terra cotta spandrel panels (where they were held by cherubic figures against a background of swirling vines and flowers) and at the corners of the 12th floor.

One of the spandrels of the lower arches.   image via Beyond My Ken

The mid- and top sections were faced in variegated, sandy-colored brick and trimmed in limestone and terra cotta.  The two-story top section featured double-height arcades that echoed those of the Palazzo Medici Riccardi in Florence.

Mills & Gibb leased the stores and portions of the upper floors.  Among the early tenants was the publishing firm Funk & Wagnalls Company, here as early as 1913.

On February 2, 1928, The New York Times reported, "The Mills & Gibb Building...has been purchased by William F. Kenny."  With the massive dry goods firm now gone, Kenny filled the essentially vacant building with a variety of tenants.  In December, the headquarters of the Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor moved in.  And the following year, a swarm of businesses signed leases.

Among those moving into stores during 1929 were Rottenberg Sons Co., Inc. and Yarns Corporation of America.  Upper spaces were taken by the Container Testing Laboratories for its offices and laboratory; Picker X-Ray Corporation, which leased the 11th floor; the National Carbon Company; Standard Radio Corporation of America; Vassar Swiss Underwear Company, the John Martin's House, Inc.; Walcott-Taylor Company, Inc., which took the 10th floor; the E. P. Dutton publishing firm; and Carl Gutmann & Co.

image from the collection of the Library of Congress

E. P. Dutton & Co. would remain for years.  It launched an unusual marketing campaign in February 1932.  The New York Times reported, "In order to tap the vast reservoirs of knowledge of the publishing business possessed by the general public, E. P. Dutton & Co. are offering a number of prizes."  The writer who best stated what books should be included in the firm's catalogue "and why he would have published them" would receive $50.  The Depression era money--equal to more than $1,000 in 2026--was a significant incentive.

The building's tenant list continued to be highly varied.  In 1936 the School for Embalmers was here, and the following year, on April 28, 1937, the headquarters of the National Distillers Products Corporation opened.  Its first item of business, reported The New York Times, was the end of "the price war which disrupted wholesale liquor price schedules."

Also taking space that year was the National Conference of Jews and Christians.  The organization's focus, understandably, was greatly taken up with happenings in Europe.  On November 15, 1938, for instance, its director, Dr. Everett D. Clinchy, "announced plans for a mass meeting...at which implications of the German persecutions would be discussed."

By 1943, the National Conference of Jews and Christians operated a syndicated column, "The Question Box."  On January 18, 1943, The Tacoma Times urged: "Readers of The Times are invited to send in questions regarding the Protestant, Catholic or Jewish faiths.  Questions will be answered as promptly as possible."

In the meantime, the ongoing war kept another tenant, the North Atlantic headquarters of the American National Red Cross, more than busy.  On August 4, 1942, The New York Times reported, "The urgent need for 3,000 nurses a month--2,500 for the Army and 500 for the Navy--and methods of recruiting them were discussed yesterday at a conference of nurses" here.

The Architectural Record, December 1910 (copyright expired)

Domestic emergencies did not pause because of the global  upheaval overseas.  On the night of November 28, 1942, fire broke out in the Cocoanut Grove nightclub in Boston.  It resulted in the deaths of 492 patrons.  Two days later, The New York Times reported, "The North Atlantic area of the Red Cross, with headquarters at 300 Fourth Avenue, went to work in a hurry late Saturday night and continued all days yesterday to do what it could to supply relief to the victims of the night club fire."

Another domestic disaster occurred on January 3, 1944, when explosions sank the Navy's USS Turner near Sandy Hook, New Jersey.  The Red Cross sprung into action, quickly packing 200 cartons of blood plasma.  A helicopter landed in Battery Park to transport two cases to Sandy Hook, while the rest were sent by Coast Guard cutter.

The Picker X-Ray Company was still here at midcentury.  On December 16, 1950, its "new type of X-ray shield that makes it possible for radiologists to treat deep-seated cancers with X-ray dosages" was announced by the Radiological Society of North America.  

Also operating from the building in the 1950s were the Kamlet Laboratories and Allied Impex Corporation.  The former firm announced a surprising development on August 12, 1955.  Explaining that "The tradition that goats thrive on a diet of old newspapers and the labels from tin cans got strong confirmation this week," The New York Times reported that Dr. Jonas Kamlet had received a patent for goat feed that contained substantial amounts of newsprint.

The Allied Impex Corporation, which dealt in photographic supplies and devices, also created innovations.  It announced its Ultrablitz Monojet electronic flash gun on October 4, 1959, for instance.

In 1959, Fourth Avenue was renamed Park Avenue South.  Having a new address did not change the disparate tenant list.  The United Federation of Teachers, Local 2 leased a floor in September 1962; East House Enterprises, makers of paper products took a floor in 1964; and the National Citizens Committee to Defend Academic Freedom at St. John's [University].

The 1970s saw Planned Parenthood, the American Council of Voluntary Agencies for Foreign Service and Cabrini Health Care Center in the building.

Change came in 2010 when Rockrose Development Corporation purchased and vacated the Mills & Gibb Building in order to reimagine it.  In a 2012 interview, Rockrose president Justin Elghanayan explained that the firm had transformed it "into a creative arts building."  He told Vivian Marino of The New York Times, "We have the Smithsonian, Leo Burnett, the Whitney, Wilhelmina Models and various other high-profile tenants."

photograph by Beyond My Ken

What Rockrose Development did not remodel was Starrett & Van Vleck's 1909 design (other than the main entrance).  The commercial palazzo retains its stately presence after more than a century.

many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for prompting this post

"Horizonal Mansions" - the 1916 820 Fifth Avenue

 

photo by Buddy 212

When the Progress Club moved to the west side of Central Park in 1901, its clubhouse at 820 Fifth Avenue was purchased by millionaire James Haggin as the site of his new mansion.  Instead, the magnificent structure sat vacant until his death in 1914.  The following year, on December 11, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that his estate had sold the property "to a syndicate formed for the purpose of erecting an apartment house suitable in every way to the location where it is to be constructed."  That "location," at the northeast corner of 63rd Street, sat among the mansions of some of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens.

The firm of Starrett & Van Vleck was commissioned to design the 12-story building that would be inspired by Italian Renaissance palazzo prototypes.  There would be only one apartment per floor (others would be enlarged), and were marketed as "horizontal mansions."  The rents were expected to be about $18,000 to $25,000 per year—about $67,000 a month in today’s money for the more expensive apartments.

Each of the full-floor apartments had 11-foot ceilings, fireplaces in the principal rooms and typically five bedrooms and seven servants' rooms.  Three elevators opened directly into the apartments--one passenger; one "cargo," or service elevator that opened into the service hall; and a "party" elevator to accommodate larger groups.

A typical, floor-through apartment.  The New York Real Estate Brochure Collection of Columbia University Libraries.

Millionaires lined up to sign leases during construction.  On May 13, 1916, The New York Times reported that Robert Goelet had leased "an apartment of eighteen rooms and six baths."  The recently divorced real estate tycoon moved from his marble-fronted mansion at 647 Fifth Avenue.  

Two of the five woodburning fireplaces in the Goelet apartment.  Photos by Wurts Bros, from the collection of the Museum of the City f New York.

By the time Alfred Nathan, president of Nathan Manufacturing Company, moved into the "large duplex apartment, comprising the entire ninth floor and part of the tenth containing twenty-four rooms and nine baths," as described by The New York Times on November 7, 1916, the building was nearly full.  The article said, "Other tenants in this building are August Belmont, Robert Goelet, Alexander S. Cochran, Mrs. S. V. Harkness, C. G. K. Billings, and H. D. Whiton."  

George Arents, treasurer and co-organizer of the American Tobacco Company, and his wife, the former Annie Amelia Walter, were also initial residents.  He died of pneumonia in their apartment on February 22, 1918 at the age of 83, leaving an estate of $10,040,643--equal to $209 million in 2025.

Anna M. Harkness was the widow of Stephen V. Harkness, a co-founder of the Standard Oil Company.  On May 1, 1916, shortly before moving into 820 Fifth Avenue, her son and business advisor, Charles William Harkness, died.  His death prompted legal entanglements for her, since $25 million of her bank deposits and securities had been under his name.  Happily the confusion was settled in court in May 1917.

Robert Wilson Goelet was not the only unmarried man in 820 Fifth Avenue.  Although Alexander Smith Cochran had inherited the Alexander Smith & Sons Carpet mills, one of the largest carpet manufacturers in the world, he was better known among society as a yachtsman.  And he could afford to pursue a leisurely existence.  Upon the death of his uncle, Warren B. Smith, in 1902, Cochran inherited an estate of $40 million (about $1.5 billion in today's money).  His country estate, Brookholt, was on Long Island.

Alexander Smith Cochran, via americanaristocracy.com

Goelet ended his bachelorship on October 22, 1919, when he married Fernanda Riabouchinsky in the American Church at Paris.  In January 1921, their son, Robert, Jr. was born in the apartment.

The couple hosted a "caudle party" on December 30, 1922, following the baptism of the infant of the William May Wrights.  Fernanda was the baby's godmother.  The impressive guest list included the Duke and Duchess de Richelieu, Prince and Princess Francesco Rospigliosi, the Middleton S. Burrills, the Efrem Zimbalists, and Whitney Warren, among others.

Robert Wilson Goelet (original source unknown)

Like Goelet's first marriage, this one would end in divorce.  On February 10, 1924, The New York Times reported that Fernanda had begun proceedings in Paris.  "Mr. Goelet could not be reached last night at his town apartment at 820 Fifth avenue or at his country place at Goshen, N. Y.," said the article.

Robert Goelet, it seems, did not intend his failed domestic relationship to upset his social schedule.  A month later, on March 26, he hosted "a supper with dancing," in the Fifth Avenue apartment.  "There were about 150 guests," reported The Times.  Among them were Prince and Princess Francesco Rospigliosi, Prince and Princess Matchabelli, Prince and Princess Pierre Troubetskoy, Mr. and Mrs. Jay Gould, the Otto Kahns, and society surnames like Drexel, Gerard, and Pell. 

In the meantime, Alexander Smith Cochran had found romance.  In 1920, he met Polish opera singer Ganna Walska aboard the Aquitania headed to Paris.  Only a few days later, he proposed and the couple was married on September 15.  The Evening World remarked that Walska, "became the bride of one of New York's richest bachelors."

Deemed by critics as a "mediocre" singer, Walska had been married twice before.  Her lack of success on the stage was countered by her success in marrying wealthy men and garnering large settlements.  The newlyweds moved into Walska's home at 101 East 94th Street, however The Evening World noted on December 20, 1920, "Mr. Cochran still retains his bachelor apartments at No. 820 Fifth Avenue."  It was fortunate that he did.  The couple was divorced in May 1922 and in August Ganna married Harold McCormick.  She received a $3 million settlement from Cochran--about $56 million today--and would marry two more times.  (Alexander S. Cochran died of pulmonary tuberculosis on June 19, 1929 at the age of 53.)

Banker David Crawford Clark and his wife, the former Zelina Elizabeth Keyser, sold their mansion at 991 Fifth Avenue and moved into No. 820 in 1918. The couple was married on April 23, 1889 and had two daughters, Zelina Theresa and Mary.

Only a few months after moving in, on April 19, 1919 David Clark died at the age of 55. Immediately after the funeral on April 21, Zelina, Mary and Harriet Clark (Zelina's sister-in-law and husband of George C. Clark) went to the Claridge Cottage in Southampton. Zelina's grief was too much for her to bear. Three days later, a carpenter, W. C. Schaeder, was working near Lake Agawam and saw Zelina Clark go into the water fully clothed. The New York Times reported, "when he went to her rescue, she tried to fight him off. He says he heard her tell her daughter, Miss Mary Clark, that she wanted to 'end it all.'" Happily, Zelina Elizabeth Clark survived the attempt and lived on until 1944.

In January 1919, Alfred Nathan leased his massive apartment to John North Willys "for a long term of years," as reported by The New York Times. Born in 1873, Willys was president of the Willys-Overland Company. His firm was the second largest automobile marker in the United States after Ford Motor Company. He and his wife, the firmer Irene Van Wie, had one daughter, Virginia Clayton. The family's country estate was Northcliffe, in Oyster Bay, Long Island.

John North Willys in 1917 from the collection of the Library of Congress.

After leasing the Nathan apartment for seven years, in April 1926 the family moved into another space within the building.  The New York Times reported their new "special duplex apartment" held "twenty-three rooms and eight baths."

On June 27, 1926, Virginia Pope wrote an article in the New York Times on "mansions in flats."  In it she described the Willys apartment, noting in part:

Canvases greet the eye as one enters this sumptuous home, whose living rooms extend the full length of the Fifth Avenue side of the building...The grilled iron doors and the heavily embossed ceiling of the long and broad entrance hall introduce an Italian note, putting one in humor to appreciate the two tendos [sic], one by Raffaelino del Garbo, the other by Lorenzo Credi, that hang at either side of the doorway leading into the living room.

The New York Times, June 27, 1926 (copyright expired)

The salon, she said, was "large enough to contain without crowding a Rembrandt, a Frans Hals, a Velasquez and other old masters."  Calling Irene's sitting room an "airy bower," she described the main rooms as being "grouped in a square about a Regency-style hall.

Virginia Willys's debutante season began with a "large ball" at the Park Lane on December 26, 1928, followed by a "large reception" in the apartment on December 29.  They were the first of a series of notable social events for the young woman within the next few months.  On January 25, 1929, her parents announced her engagement to Luis Marcelino de Aguirre "of Buenos Aires and Paris," as reported by The New York Times.  Nothing was more impressive, however, than her being presented to Queen Mary on May 9 that year.  

John and Isabel Willys divorced the following year.  Isabel remained in the 820 Fifth Avenue apartment and John quickly married Florence E. Dolan.  There was no divorce settlement.  John Willys told reporters four years later, on August 3, 1934, that he "had very amply provided for [Isabel] in the past years, the income from which will more than take care of her for the rest of her life."  Regarding Virginia, he said, "she is 23 years old and married.  I provided a trust fund for her some years ago, the income from which at this time gives her a good monthly allowance."

Twenty-three days after he made those statements, John North Willys suffered a fatal stroke.  His will left the substantial estate to Florence Dolan Willys.  Virginia sued in court in October 1935 to overturn the will.  She asserted that Florence had purposely ruined her parents' marriage "by means of guile, deceit, fraud and stratagem and false protestations of affection" to acquire "the great wealth she knew him to possess."

Former Governor Alfred E. Smith moved into the seventh-floor apartment of 820 Fifth Avenue in the fall of 1934.  In reporting on the move, The New York Times parenthetically mentioned that the building had "apartments of fourteen, seventeen and eighteen rooms, each suite occupying an entire floor...Among the tenants are Alfred P. Sloane Jr., Mrs. Pierre Lorillard, Adrian Iselin, John F. Harris, Mrs. Murray Crane, and Mrs. George Arents."

Living with Smith and his wife, the former Catherine A. Dunn, was their 33-year-old unmarried son, attorney Alfred Jr.; their daughter Catherine and her husband Francis J. Quillinan; and Emily Smith Warner and her husband, John A. Warner.  (Quillinan was a member of Warner's law firm.)  The siblings' father had come a long way from his humble beginnings at 25 Oliver Street.  

Alfred Emanuel Smith, from the collection of the Library of Congress

Among the servants the Smiths hired upon moving in was Mrs. William Suphka.  On August 3, 1935, the maid's sister, Sophie Windstosser, who worked as a children's nurse for a wealthy family, visited her here.  Mrs. Suphka left her "alone resting in the maid's room," according to her.  The New York Times reported, "When she returned she found the window open and her sister gone."  Sophie Windstosser had jumped from the window to her death.

In the spring of 1933, Alfred E. Smith, Jr. was seduced by a young woman, Catherine Pavlick, to a hotel room.  Soon afterward, he was approached by a Brooklyn lawyer, A. Henry Ross, who demanded $25,000 or his client "would expose a visit they made to a hotel."  Between May and August that year, Smith paid $7,250.  But when the demands kept coming, in 1936 Smith went to the authorities.  Despite the public humiliation and embarrassment to his family, he testified in court against Ross and Pavlick.

Catherine A. Dunn Smith contracted pneumonia in April 1944 and died in St. Vincent's Hospital on May 4 at the age of 65.  Her funeral was held in St. Patrick's Cathedral.  The New York Times reported, "Deeply grieved and shocked by the unexpected death of his wife...Governor Smith retired to the seclusion of their home at 820 Fifth Avenue."

Five months later to the day, Alfred Emanuel Smith died on October 4, 1944 at the age of 70.  His funeral, too, was held in St. Patrick's Cathedral.  For the "millions of Americans" who were mourning his passing, the service was aired on radio nationwide.

photo by Wurts Bros., from the collection of the New York Public Library.

The building was converted to cooperatives in 1949.  In its May 20, 1968 issue, New York Magazine described 820 Fifth Avenue, saying in part:

Its social tenancy includes the William Paleys, [and] Mrs. Carter Burden Sr.  The Charles Wrightsmans, who just paid about $350,000 for a floor to use as supplementary gallery space, spend about $18,000 for its maintenance which is below average, since some go as high as $30,000 a year.

At the time of the article, typical apartments sold for $750,000 (about $6.7 million today).

Florence Vanderbilt Twombly Burden's husband, William A. M. Burden had died in 1909.  She had two sons, William and Shirley C.  Florence died in her apartment on November 18, 1969 at the age of 87.  The New York Times mentioned that William Burden was a "former Assistant Secretary of Commerce for Air and former United States Ambassador to Belgium."

William Paley, who built Columbia Broadcasting System into one of the foremost radio and television networks in the U.S., married Barbara Cushing Mortimer in 1947.  The couple filled their apartment here with a dazzling collection of artworks by masters like Matisse, Picasso, Degas, Toulouse-Lautrec, Bonnard, Rouault and Derain.  Among their collection, for instance, was Paul Cézanne's Milk Can and Apples and Paul Gauguin's Washerwomen.  The couple's country home, "Kiluna North" sat on Squam Lake in New Hampshire.

Paul Gauguin's 1888 Washerwomen hung in the Paley apartment.  from the collection of the Museum of Modern Art.

Barbara, known as Babe, was diagnosed with lung cancer in 1974.  On July 5, 1978, the day after her 63rd birthday, she died.  William survived her by 12 years, dying of kidney failure on October 26, 1990, one month after his 89th birthday.  On November 3, The New York Times reported, "The collection of 19th- and 20th-century art assembled by William S. Paley, valued in the hundreds of millions of dollars, will go to the Museum of Modern Art."

Charles B. Wrightsman, an Oklahoma oil tycoon, and his wife, Jayne, moved into 820 Fifth Avenue in the 1950s.  The New York Times said that Jayne, "held court over the years with various socialites, aristocrats, politicians and museum curators who attended her elegant soirees."  Wrightsman died in 1986, and Jayne continued to live here.  

Jayne Wrightsman sits on a French settee in her sitting room under Renoir's The Green Jardiniere in 1966.  Cecil Beaton/Conde Nast

Described by The New York Times as a "society grande dame," she died in April 2019 at the age of 99.  The newspaper described her third-floor apartment as being "filled with priceless paintings and rare books and collectibles."  Her apartment was placed on the market in November that year for $50 million.

No. 820 Fifth Avenue is considered one of "the best" addresses in Manhattan.  Potential buyers are warned that sales must be "entirely in cash" and their liquid assets be ten times the price of the apartment.

The Lost Progress Club -- Fifth Avenue and 63rd Street

The over-the-top clubhouse sat among the mansions of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens -- photo by Byron Co. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York 

As the sons of Manhattan millionaires grew to manhood, membership in at least one—but preferably several—of the exclusive men’s clubs was expected.  Passing the rigid selection process proved one's good breeding and social status, but most of all money.  None of those qualifications mattered much, however, if the candidate were Jewish.

Manhattan high society was, for the most part, made up of Episcopalians with some ultra-wealthy Roman Catholics tolerated (although not in the ballroom of Caroline Schermerhorn Astor).  Despite the staggering wealth of some Jewish families, only a handful of Jews would manage to wrest memberships in the highly-exclusive Union or Metropolitan Club, for instance.  And so they established their own private clubs.

The Progress Club was founded in 1864 and quickly developed a high-class status.  The New York Times later said, “In Hebrew society the Progress Club has the same standing as the Metropolitan in other circles.”  By the 1880s, it had established itself in a clubhouse at 110-112 East 59^th Street at the corner of Park Avenue.  But that would quickly change.  On July 28, 1887, the members sold its building for $105,000 and spent double that amount--$235,000 to be exact—on the 100-square-foot corner lot on Fifth Avenue at 63^rd Street.  Newspapers reported that plans were being prepared for, “a $250,000 clubhouse” directly in the center of the developing mansion district.  The total proposed outlay of $485,000 would amount to a jaw-dropping $11.5 million today.

Alfred Zucker was born in Freiburg, Silesia in 1852 and had settled in New York in 1883.  He busied himself designing cast iron loft buildings in the area now known as Soho.  Now, the Progress Club chose the Jewish architect to design their new home. 

By the time the cornerstone was laid on November 28, 1888, work was well underway.  The New York Times promised that, when completed, it would be “one of the handsomest and most convenient clubhouses in the country.”  It added:

The architecture of the exterior will be pure Italian Renaissance as adopted in Rome and Florence in the fifteenth century.  The material used in the facades will be fawn-colored brick, terra cotta of a deeper shade, and Bellville gray rock.  For the balcony railings, basement window-guards, &c., ornamental wrought-iron will be used.

By now, the cost of the structure (excluding the plot) had doubled to $500,000.  The members of what newspapers routinely called the “Hebrew club” seemed determined to match or outdo the most lavish of Manhattan clubhouses.

Five months later, the Progress Club hosted its last function in the old clubhouse.  Among the entertainments were a children’s production of A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream and “as an interlude Miss Nellie Williams sang ‘Dere ain’t no Flies on Me,’ for which she was rewarded with loud applause,” reported The New York Times the following day.  It was announced that the club would be in its new Fifth Avenue clubhouse by the opening of the winter social season. 

Terra cotta drapes like a garland along the parapet -- photo King's Views of New York 1903 (copyright expired)

By the time the building opened on March 7, 1890, the cost had risen to a staggering $600,000.  Combined with the cost of the land, the clubhouse cost $21 million in today’s money.  The price was understandable once guests and reporters were shown inside.  The New York Times called the clubhouse “palatial.”

Well-heeled members in evening clothes ascend the grand staircase before the enormous stained glass window on opening night -- Harper's Weekly 1891 (copyright expired)

The following day, the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide called it “regal” and “without doubt the most ambitious addition that has been made to the club-houses of this city since the Union League was opened.”  The periodical said, “The design of the exterior is scholarly, straightforward and expressive, and with the accentuation given by the beautiful carving and terra cotta work the building is architecturally one of the most successful and interesting that has been completed in recent years.”

It pointed out the costly finishes: “the wealth of highly carved wood; wrought iron and brass; the great stained glass windows, one of which is 22x30 feet; the lavish use of onyx, serpentine and other semi-precious stones, the large picture ceilings, the ivory enameled walls, the superb hangings in coral plush and Etruscan gold.”  Everything—without exception—in the new building was custom built to the designs of Zucker.  The furniture, the draperies, carpets, chandeliers, even the candelabra, were manufactured according to the architect's drawings.

Silver chandeliers hung from the elaborate ceiling of the Banqueting Hall -- Real Estate Record & Builder's News, March 8, 1890 (copyright expired) 

Members entered through a great arch on 63^rd Street into a marble-walled vestibule.  At its end was the grand staircase, dominated by a 22-foot high stained glass window at the landing.  Downstairs were the oak-furnished reading room with leather-covered walls and wrought iron chandeliers; and two drawing rooms.  One of these was “First Empire” in style.  It dazzled with onyx columns with gold capitals.  On this floor, too, were the reception room, steward’s office and coat room, and an oak-paneled dining room.

 

The First Empire Room was decorated in gold and white -- Real Estate Record & Builder's News, March 8, 1890 (copyright expired) 

At the second landing was an even larger stained glass window—30 feet high by 22 feet wide—depicting Progress ascending amid clouds.  The magnificent banqueting hall fully engulfed half of the second floor.  At 90 feet long, 55 feet wide and 25 feet high, the Record & Guide deemed it, “one of the noblest apartments in the city.”  The onyx columns with gold capitals upholding the ceiling sat upon pedestals of malachite.  The ceiling was divided into nine large panels, from each of which were suspended silver chandeliers.  They were matched by silver sconces on the walls.  In this room was a musicians’ gallery of ormolu gilt.

The ballroom was one floor above and The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide called its proportions “imperial.”  Here Zucker used the new electric light to full advantage.  “The ceiling, which is supported by the walls only, so that the area of the room is unbroken and the full effect of its size obtained, is coved several feet in depth and divided by means of heavy ornamental groins into six recessed panels, the centre of each panel being formed into a dome, in each of which is a cluster of electric lamps representing the descending stars of a rocket.  This idea is ingenious and the result excellent—with electric light, illumination is at last becoming a part of decorations.”

Zucker pulled out all the stops for the dazzling Ballroom -- Real Estate Record & Builder's News, March 8, 1890 (copyright expired) 

Zucker’s over-the-top décor in the ballroom included female figures crafted of onyx and ormolu holding the golden candelabra, and nymphs supporting chains that held back the draperies.  In the cove of the ceiling, huge winged female figures wore tiaras of electric lights.  More than 1,000 persons could comfortably fit into the ballroom.

Also on this floor were the “dainty ladies’ drawing-room” in white and gold Rococo.  The ceiling was painted with a reproduction of Thuman’s Amor and Psyche.  On the opposite side of a foyer was the gentleman’s room.  These spaces were designed so that on grand occasions the entire floor could be opened into one large area.

Below ground were six bowling alleys, the wine cellars, a billiard room and a café, as well as the expected kitchens, larders and mechanical rooms.

The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide summed it all up by saying, “In conclusion, it may be said that from top to bottom the building is most carefully and artistically planned, the construction is everywhere of the most substantial and excellent kind, and reflects great credit upon the members of the club and the architect.”

The critics from The New Yor Times and the Record & Builders’ Guide were just two of 1,500 persons at the housewarming.  Among the guests who mingled among the potted ferns and palms that night were names like Rothschild, Bloomingdale, Blumenthal, and Stein, some of the wealthiest merchants and bankers of the city.  Mayor Hugh J. Grant, Governor David B. Hill and Board of Alderman President Arnold were all invited, but their names did not show up on the list of attendees. 

In his address after receiving the solid gold key to the building, club president Simon Goldenberg deemed the new building, “the finest club quarters in America.”  The following day, The Evening World called the architecture “perfection” and noted, “The decorations are elegant, costly and in the best possible taste.”

Like every other high-end men’s club in the city, the Progress Club was not without its internal politics and dissension.  During the last week of January 1894, the club staged “a vaudeville entertainment which was being given by the club to its feminine guests,” as reported in The New York Times a week later.  There was a long-standing rule that whenever women were invited into the clubhouse, smoking in certain rooms was prohibited. 

That evening, when J. Murray Danenbaum entered a supper room as the entertainment was going on, he noticed a member “enjoying a prohibited cigar.”  Indignant on the part of the women in the room, Danenbaum approached the member and rather sternly reminded him of the rule.  The New York Times said, “The offending member, unmindful of the soft answer that turneth away wrath, answered in kind and smoked on.”  It was the beginning of a problem far worse than the affronting cigar.

Danenbaum plucked the cigar from the man’s mouth and flung it to the floor.  If female guests were put off by the stench of cigar smoke in the supper room, they were no doubt terrorized by the pugilistic threats that were now exchanged by the two men.  Only the intervention of cooler minds prevented a full-out fist fight, according to reports.

Exactly ten years after the housewarming celebration, the Progress Club announced it had “decided to dispose of its present house at the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and Sixty-third Street, and will erect a new home on a site yet to be selected.”  A club member told reporters on January 8, 1900 that “the reason for the club moving was simply that its present house is regarded by a majority of the members as inadequate.”

It took the club over a year to find a suitable property, but on November 3, 1901 it announced the purchase of three lots at the northwest corner of Central Park West and 88^th Street.  Simultaneously, it was revealed that millionaire James B. Haggin had signed a contract for the purchase of the 63^rd Street building.  “The reported price in the sale to Mr. Haggin was $735,000, and he will put up a mansion on the site costing about $1,000,000,” reported The New York Times.

The Progress Club moved to the West Side and, oddly enough, James B. Haggin did not build his new mansion, but let the hulking clubhouse sit empty and dark.  Instead, he moved into the lavish Crocker mansion one block north at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 64^th Street in 1912. 

When James Haggin died in Newport on August 16, 1914, the former Progress Club building still sat eerily quiet and unused.  The following year, on December 11, 1915, the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported that his estate had sold the property “to a syndicate formed for the purpose of erecting an apartment house suitable in every way to the location where it is to be constructed.”

The firm of Starrett & Van Vleck was commissioned to design the 12-story Renaissance-inspired building.  With one apartment per floor, the new building was marketing what could be termed horizontal mansions.  The rents were expected to be about $18,000 to $25,000 per year—about $47,000 a month in today’s dollars for the more expensive apartments.

Starrett & Van Vleck released this sketch of the coming building in December 1915.  It survives today. Real Estate Record & Builder's News, December 11, 1915 (copyright expired)  

Before the massive apartment building could rise, the Progress Club had to come down.  The lavish interiors of onyx columns and ormolu galleries were gone within weeks.  That it ever stood is largely forgotten.