Showing posts with label tracy and swartwout. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tracy and swartwout. Show all posts

Saturday, November 10, 2018

The Clarence S. Day House - 43 East 68th Street




As a frenzy of development erupted on the Upper East Side following the end of the Civil War, scores of cookie-cutter brownstones sprung up along the blocks branching off Central Park.  Among them was a row of seven houses built by John C. Thompson--Nos. 37 through 49 East 68th Street.

No. 43 was home to John M. Shaw by the early 1880's.  Shaw was the principal of the brokerage firm of J. M. Shaw & Co. (and, as a matter of fact, its only member).  Dealing in commodities, mostly grain, his successful firm maintained two offices, one at No. 54 New Street and the other on West 23rd.  But Shaw's comfortable lifestyle came to a crashing end when, on the afternoon of April 17, 1891, his firm's failure was announced on the floor of the Stock Exchange.

The 68th Street house was leased briefly by Henry Spratley and his wife, the former Annie Ringwood Johnson.  Spratley's business dealings included his position as treasurer of the Traders and Travelers' Accident Company, of which former mayor Hugh J. Grant was president.  Also in the house were Spratley's five children from his marriage to Hester A. Awaise, who died in 1883.

Well-to-do women at the time went "calling" in the afternoons.  To ensure that they would not arrive at at someone's doorstep only to find that that woman, too, was out calling, the newspapers kept its readers informed of who was available to receive.  On February 18, 1892, for instance, The New York Times noted "Mrs. H. Spratley of 43 East Sixty-eighth Street will be at home Saturday afternoon."

The Spratleys moved on early in 1893 and in April the house was offered "For sale or to let."  The succinct advertisement in the New-York Tribune described it merely as a "four-story brownstone house."

Dr. G. A. Sabine leased No. 43 until around late 1895, when it was purchased by former congressman Charles Delemere Haines and his wife, Mary.  Haines's term of office in the U. S. House of Representative had just ended.

With his political career over, Haines returned to business life.  On September 25, 1896 The Sun noted "Mr. Haines is the President of or the majority stockholder of a lot of small railways."  His legal counsel was William Jennings Bryan, for whom the newspaper held little respect.  "Mr. Haines, when asked yesterday about his experience with Mr. Bryan as a corporation lawyer, said that Mr. Bryan was a personal friend, and that he did not wish to talk about the matter."

Charles D. Haines.  from he National Cyclopaedia of American Biography, 1899 (copyright expired)
Also in the house were the adopted children of Charles's deceased brother; Eleanor Elizabeth and Benjamin Franklin Haines.  Following Eleanor's marriage to Louis H. Jones on November 15, 1899, an "informal reception" was held in the 68th Street house.  Benjamin, incidentally, would follow in his step-father's political footsteps, becoming mayor of Medford, Massachusetts and a member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives.

On June 5, 1902 Charles and Mary Haines sold No. 43 to Frederick Brooks and his wife.   Brooks was the son of John Brooks, and grandson of one of the original Brooks Brothers, of menswear fame.  It does not appear that the couple intended to live in the house, but (to use today's vernacular) to "flip" the out-of-date brownstone as an investment.

The architectural firm of Tracy & Swartout was hired to completely remodel the Italianate style structure into a modern, American basemen plan residence.  Plans were filed on March 25, 1903.  The following day the New-York Tribune explained "A four story extension will be built in the front and a two story extension in the rear.  A new light shaft and a fireproof elevator will be put in.   The extension will be of brick, with marble facing." The make-over cost Brooks the equivalent of just over $1 million today.

At the time Manhattan's wealthy homeowners were turning away from the frothy marble or limestone Beaux Arts style to the more sedate neo-Federal and neo-Georgian styles, executed in brick (perhaps most vividly exemplified by the massive Andrew Carnegie mansion completed one year earlier).  Tracy & Swartwout followed suit, transforming the vintage Victorian with a neo-Federal facelift.

The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered a few steps above sidewalk level.  The facade was pulled forward to the property line (substantially increasing interior square footage).  A dignified portico fronted the entrance, above which a fanlight echoed the shape of the arched openings on this floor.

Tracy & Swartwout used variegated brick with burned headers to simulate age.  Its warm brown-red tone was contrasted with white stone trim.   The splayed lintels of the upper floors were in keeping with the Federal style.  A stone balustrade partially hid the copper-covered mansard.

The house originally matched those on either side.  photograph by Wurts Bros., from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York
As the work neared completion Clarence Shepard Day and his family were living at No. 420 Madison Avenue.  In May 1905 they purchased the remodeled house from Brooks.  While the selling price was kept private, Day's $50,000 mortgage (about $1.5 million today) affords a hint.

Day was a principal in the brokerage firm of Day, Adams & Company and a director in several railroads.  He and his wife, the former Livinia Elizabeth Stockwell, had four sons--Harold, Julian, George and Clarence, Jr.   The boys had all attended Yale University and each followed decidedly different career paths.  Harold, who suffered from traumatic epilepsy as the result of a childhood accident moved to California.  His brothers all started out in their father's firm; but only Julian would remain as a partner.

Clarence S. Day 
Livinia Stockwell Day photos via Clarence Day An American Writer, 2006, original source unknown.
Clarence, Jr. left the firm in 1896 to join the Navy and following the Spanish-American War pursued a career in writing and illustration.  (Interestingly, his grandfather, Benjamin H. Day had founded The New York Sun in 1833.)  George would leave Day, Adams & Company around 1908 to work at Yale.

Like Annie Sprayley, Livinia Day busied herself with social activities while her husband worked.  On December 14, 1905 the New-York Tribune noted "Mrs. Clarence S. Day will hold another of her Thursday receptions to-day at her new home, in East 68th-st."

Although Clarence, Jr. lived with his parents, the arrangement did not mean that he was struggling financially.  On September 19, 1906, for instance, The New York Times reported "The announcement was made to-day that the Yale Alumni Weekly has been purchased by Clarence S. Day, Jr."  Two years later he helped George found the Yale University Press.  (George became the treasurer of Yale in 1910, a position he held for years.)

The Days maintained a summer home, Upland Farm, in Westchester County.  The society pages kept track of the couple, The New York Sun noting on April 16, 1913 "Mr. and Mrs. Clarence S. Day will sail on the Mauretania next week and on their return will go to Upland Farm, their country place."  And in 1922 The New York Herald announced that the couple "will leave New York early in May for their country home...Mrs. Day held her last at home for the season recently at her town residence, 43 East Sixty-eighth street."

By now Clarence, Jr.'s poems, short stories and cartoons had appeared in popular magazines and newspapers like Harper's Weekly for a decade.  By the end of World War I he was an established writer with a regular column in Metropolitan Magazine.  His first book, a satirical look at civilized man's behavior, This Simian World, was published in 1920.

He was a semi-invalid due to intense arthritis contracted at an early age.  He wrote mainly from his bed in the late hours, sleeping most of the morning and afternoon.  A historian for The New York Public Library notes "While entertaining family, friends or new acquaintances, Day was an informal host who rarely wore more than a crepe dressing gown.  He saw visitors in the bedroom, which also served as his office, surrounded by his books, letters, manuscripts and drawings."

In 1922 Clarence, Jr. met a young art librarian, Katharine Dodge, whom he hired as his secretary.  The employer-employee relationship blossomed into a romantic one.  Clarence moved out of the 68th Street house in 1925 and he married Katherine in 1928.  He went on to write best-selling books like his 1935 Life With Father, the autobiographical work for which he is best remembered.

On January 7, 1927 Clarence Shepard Day died of pneumonia at No. 43 East 68th Street at the age of 82.  While his obituary in The New York Times outlined his long career in the brokerage business, it said "He was best known, however, for his work in the development and financing of railroads."

Day's estate, valued at "more than $1,000,000," was passed to Livinia "for life and upon her death to four sons and three grandchildren."  Livinia moved to No. 1170 Fifth Avenue where she died two years later, on January 19, 1929.

Following Clarence's death, the 68th Street house had been purchased by Sidney A. Kirkman.  Before he and his wife, the former Mary Lewis, moved in, they commissioned architect Walter B. Chambers to make significant changes.  New floors were installed at different levels, the floor plans were rearranged, and a 17-foot rear extension was added.  The first floor was recessed behind a charming brick arcade, the mansard was removed and the facade of the top floor moved forward.  It was now topped by a brick parapet interrupted by openwork stone panels.

The 1927 alterations were seamless, including the perfectly-matched brickwork.  Chambers removed the single iron balconette at the second floor and added three bowed versions.
Kirkman was the head of Kirkman & Son, a manufacturer of soap and soap products.  Its large factory was located in Brooklyn.  In 1930 Colgate-Palmolive acquired the firm taking on its popular brand names like Lux and Borax as its own.

Some of Kirkman & Son's packaging was a bit racy for the time.

The Kirkmans summer home was on Cotuit, Massachusetts.  Mary was a member of the National Society of Colonial Dames and the Colony Club.  Like her fellow club members, she was active in charitable causes.  She was especially involved with the Stony Wold Sanatorium.  On January 13, 1936, for instance, she hosted a tea for the committees working on plans for the Yankee Doodle Ball to benefit that facility.

As developers razed grand mansions to replace them with apartment buildings, Sidney A. Kirkman was pro-active in preserving his quiet block as well as the light and air to his own home.  As they became available he purchased the Hoffman Nickerson house at No. 47, and the W. H. Porter residence at No. 45.   He then had "private-house restrictions" written into the deeds before reselling them in 1946.

Kirkman became ill in the spring of 1953 and died at Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center on May 11.   Mary died in the 68th Street house ten months later, on March 10, 1954.


The mansion continued life as a single-family residence, although today there is admittedly an apartment in the basement.  The product of two significant architectural make-overs, it has been almost perfectly preserved.

photographs by the author

Saturday, April 28, 2012

The 1901 Yale Club (now Penn Club) -- No. 30 West 44th Street

photo by Alice Lum
In 1900 the 44th Street block between 5th and 6th Avenues had become the epicenter of the exclusive men’s club district.  The New York Yacht Club, the St. Nicholas Club and the Harvard Club were here, along with the Royalton Hotel, a residence hotel for unmarried men of means.

That year, at Nos. 30 and 32, the burgeoning Yale Club of New York City chose to add its new clubhouse to the mix.  The membership of the club had doubled from 500 to 1,100 within the past three years and a new space was direly needed.  On March 31 the final contracts on the land were signed; The New York Times reporting the price being between $100,000 and $110,000.

The choice of architects, Tracy & Swartwout, was simple.  Egerton Swartwout and Evarts Tracy had both been employees of the esteemed firm of McKim, Mead & White; and both were graduates of Yale University and members of the Club.

A month before the purchase of the site was even completed, the architects had begun plans.   On February 17 The New York Times outlined the tentative designs, predicting “a fine towerlike structure for their new club home.”

“Towerlike” was an apt description because, unlike other clubhouses which were relatively low structures, this one would rise eleven stories.  The concept of a high-rise club provided for several floors of “sleeping apartments for members only,” with ten bedrooms per floor.

An entire floor was devoted to the main dining room, designed so it could be also used as a general meeting room.  On another floor were smaller “class dining rooms” and rooms for private parties.

Construction on the nearly $200,000 structure began in October 1900 and just over six months later, on May 1, the club celebrated its formal opening.   Above the door which was situated slightly above sidewalk level was a carved Yale University shield.  Two floors of rusticated limestone formed the base of the red brick building.  Restrained Beaux Arts terra cotta ornamentation and three balconies provided the only decoration of the main shaft of the structure.  But above the eighth floor, things changed.

In March 1901 Brickbuilder published a sketch of the structure, rising high above its neighbors (copyright expired)
Here a deeply-overhanging copper cornice was supported by long, paired foliate brackets.   Above, a stone-balustered balcony set the stage for a dramatic, oversized arched window, the frame of which nearly obscured the shallow mansard roof behind it.

The New York Times praised the building on its opening saying “Not a convenience is lacking.”  The main floor housed the grill room, billiard room, a cafĂ©, a  bar, office and “strangers’ rooms.”  Lounging rooms and the library took up the second floor.   The entire ninth floor was the main dining room.  The newspaper called it “handsomely furnished, and among the more attractive fittings are pictures of the university athletes.”

The Grill Room, while rustic, still required proper attire.
On the roof was a garden which The Times felt would be a “most pleasing rendezvous in hot weather” for the Yale graduates.

Most unusual, however, were the six floors of bedrooms.  Originally conceived as sleeping rooms for members, they were now being marketed as bachelor accommodations rented by the week.  “There are accommodations for 85 tenants,” reported The Times, “and the rental of the rooms, with service, ranges from $6 to $15 per week.”  Patrons who wished to be fed as well could expect to “be boarded and lodged at from $12 to $15 per week.”

Hart Schaffner & Marx used the posh Yale Club Grill Room as the backdrop to advertise evening wear in 1911.
Many of the residents, however, made the building their permanent home.  In 1905 Albert Lee listed 30 West 44th Street as his address.  A Yale graduate, Lee was a successful author and editor, having already been on the editorial staff of the New York Sun, Harper’s Round Table, McClure’s Magazine and Harper’s Weekly.  By now he was the associate editor of Collier’s Weekly and had written five books.

Lounging rooms and the Library were located on the second floor.
Actor (John) Grant Mitchell lived here in 1914.  After practicing law in Ohio for three years he turned his attention to the stage, making his first professional appearance as Cicero in Julius Caesar, sharing the limelight with the famous actor Richard Mansfield.  His successful theatrical career, to date, included co-starting with Lillian Russell in The Butterfly in 1906 through 1907.

Originally the Yale University shield sat above the doorway -- Architecture July 15 1901 (copyright expired)
Bachelor attorney Edward John Redington lived here at the same time.  A man of wide interests, he had served in the Government Forest Service in 1906, had written illustrated articles for the New York Herald Magazine Section on “The Forest Ranger,” and traveled the fiords of Norway.

The Club continued to grow and, despite nay-sayers who fifteen years before had predicted the ambitious clubhouse project would fail, by 1915 the clubhouse was no longer large enough for its membership.  The Times remarked that constructing the towering building on 44th Street “was a move of no little importance and involved [a financial] extension which not a few predicted was doomed to failure.  However, results quickly confounded the prophets of evil, and it was not long before the club found its new house becoming entirely inadequate.”

In April 1916 the building was purchased by the newly-organized Delta Kappa Epsilon Club. A Yale University fraternity founded in 1844, Delta Kappa Epsilon had over 43 chapters and 13,000 members but, until now, no central headquarters.   The Times reported that the group intended to spend “about $100,000…in alterations and new equipment, bringing the total investment up to about $500,000.”

The club announced it would add a story and install squash courts and a swimming pool.

Oscald C. Hering and Douglas Fitch were commissioned to design the alternations.  Nine months later in January 1917 the club opened, with construction costs coming in under budget at $75,000.

Just four months later the United States entered World War I; a move many Americans had not foreseen.  Many of the young men of Delta Kappa Epsilon were among those most deeply affected by the war.  By December 26 fraternity members had been killed in combat and another 26 had received decorations for heroism presented by foreign governments.  That month club member Adjutant General Charles H. Sherrill addressed the group at a dinner in the clubhouse.

Predicting that the war would go on for another five or six years, the General remarked “many Americans who may not have thought up to the present they would be called upon to fight abroad might find themselves in France before the war is won.”

The fraternity continued to rent out the 70 bedrooms as bachelor quarters.  In 1922 Rutgers alumnus E. E. Van Cleef, a construction engineer with I. K. Comstock & Co., was living here.   

But nine years after taking over the old Yale Club, Delta Kappa Epsilon purchased a building at No. 5 East 51st Street in August 1925 and moved out. No. 30 West 44th Street was purchased by The Army & Navy Club of America in October; but it would not be a happy move.   Like other men’s clubs, its income was heavily affected by Prohibition.   The cash flow that came from groups of men discussing politics and business over cocktails abruptly dried up.  To worsen matters, the Stock Market crash in 1929 left many members with greatly reduced incomes.

By June 1933 membership in The Army & Navy Club had dwindled to 500 and it was unable to make its mortgage payments.   The United States Trust Company foreclosed and the club was closed.

The building sat empty while owners considered ways to utilize the once-chic clubhouse that had become a white elephant.  In 1935 an announcement was made that the building would be renovated to a mens’ and women’s club.   Nothing happened.  Then, on August 15, 1939, The New York Times reported that it would be converted to apartments.  The newspaper said architects Charles and Selig Whinston would remodel the former clubhouse “into a thirteen-story structure containing two stores and a restaurant on the street floor and nine suites of one room, bath and kitchenette on each of the twelve upper floors.”  That did not happen either.

Instead brothers Harry S. and Morris Ginsberg purchased the vacant building in November 1942.  Once again the United States was embroiled in a world war and the U.S. Government bought the building from the Ginsbergs a year later in December 1943.  After renovations, Rear Admiral Albert B. Randall, USNR, officially opened the headquarters of the U.S. Maritime Service Center Headquarters on June 25, 1944.

Up to 200 seamen awaiting deployment were housed here, and from here the graduates of the Sheepshead Bay and Hoffman Island training centers were assigned to ships.

Then, with the war over, in 1947 Colonel S. L. Kiser of the New York-New Jersey-Delaware Military District of the First Army announced on that the building would become the headquarters for Manhattan units of the Organized Reserve Corps of the Army.   The military would install the Army Reserve School here, as well, by 1949; and in the mid-1960s John Lindsay’s congressional office was here.

In 1970, as the new Touro College was chartered by New York State, the government had no more need for No. 30 West 44th Street and the property was listed as “surplus property.”  The school, which was established by Dr. Bernard Lander to enrich Jewish heritage, humanities and the sciences, now needed a campus.  It was a convenient situation for both.

The Government donated the former clubhouse to the college in January 1971.  Considering the history of the building, it was perhaps appropriate that the college was originally for male students only. 

But problems for the institution came swiftly.  Investigation by state and federal agencies regarding fraudulent obtaining of tuition grants resulted ultimately in the school being forced to return $822,000 in aid.  In 1980 a former bursar was indicted for embezzlement.

The beleaguered school sold the building in 1988 to the Trustees of the University of Pennsylvania for $15 million.   Three years later, after a $25 million fund raising campaign, renovations were started that would convert the structure to the Penn Club of New York.

Included in the modernization, Helpern Architects were given the commission to add a three story addition.  Completed in 1994 it earned the firm a Preservation Award from the Municipal Art Society.

photo by Alice Lum
Today the building at No. 30 West 44th Street has come full-circle; once again the home to a university club.  It is not only a venerable piece of Manhattan architecture; it is as Gary Hack, professor in the Penn School of Design, said “an exquisite piece of history.”