The Lost Stevens Mansion - No. 2 West 57th Street

In 1894 the ground floor of the mansion was ivy-covered.  To the left is the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The wedding of lawyer Frederick W. Stevens to Adele Sampson “stirred” Manhattan society, as The New York Times worded it.  Stevens came from an old New York and Long Island family; however he was “not well off in this world’s goods.”  Adele was little known in New York society.  The daughter of wealthy Joseph Sampson, she had been educated in Europe and at the Bolton Priory School in Westchester County, New York.

While her handsome new husband may not have been “well off in this world’s goods,” Adele inherited essentially her father’s entire estate.  The Times later explained she “was thus made one of the richest women in America” and noted “Miss Sampson brought to her husband so large an income as enabled the couple to take at once a foremost position among the society leaders and entertainers of the day.  Society hastened to pay court to the handsome and wealthy couple, and their early married life was passed amid smiles and flowers.”

The Stevens had four children and were as important in Newport society as in New York.  Their villa on Bellevue Avenue was described by a newspaper as “one of the most luxurious in appointment and decoration.”  Adele outdid every other Newport socialite in 1881 when she gave a ball “which surpassed in magnificence any former entertainment held in the fashionable watering place,” according to The Times.  To cool the supper room, tons of ice were arranged in a pyramid and lighted from behind by colored calcium lights “shining through the crystal mass” to produce “a rather beautiful effect.”

In 1875 the Stevens laid plans for a new mansion far north on Fifth Avenue at the corner of 57^th Street.  The area was only sparsely developed and the Stevens mansion at No. 2 West 57^th Street was one of the first of the grand palaces there.  It would be another two years before Cornelius Vanderbilt began construction of his massive chateau directly across the street to the north.  Property values already reflected the coming Millionaires’ Row and Adele paid $250,000 for the vacant lots alone—more than $5.5 million in 2016.

Architect George Harney designed a sprawling three story and attic jumble of styles that came together in a cohesive whole.  The brick and stone mansion faced 57^th Street and included a Romanesque Revival portico, a chateauesque, cone-capped tower; German Romanesque openings at the second floor; a French Second Empire pavilion on the Fifth Avenue side; and a an irregular roof line of dormers and gables.

The mansion was completed in 1876 and prompted a guidebook writer to call it “the most expensive house ever built in this city” with the exception of Alexander Stewart’s white marble palace across from the Astor mansions more than 20 blocks to the south.

The New York Times reported “no expense was spared in the construction, or in its interior decorations and furnishings.  One room was furnished entirely from the contents of an old Norman mansion.”  That room, according to the newspaper was “considered in its way the most beautiful in New-York.”

Things for the Stevens family went well until the Marquis de Talleyrand-Perigord arrived in New York.  The down-and-out nobleman had lost his entire fortune speculating in California gold.  The Evening World reported later “he went there in search of gold, but returned ruined and discouraged.  Years later [in 1881] he decided to avenge himself for that disappointment, went again to America and, thanks to his name, was received in the most exclusive circles.”

The married Marquis became socially friendly with Adele and Frederick.  According to Baroness Althea Salvador in 1890, “Mr. Stevens offered him two shares in an oil well.  The Marquis had no money and Mr. Stevens gave him credit.”  Not only did Frederick fund the Frenchman’s investment, but the Marquis became a long-term house guest.  And then the problems began.

The New York Times reported that “early in the season” of 1882 that “it was whispered, then rumored, and finally boldly stated that Mrs. Stevens’s name had been stricken from off the society list, and that she had gone to Europe to join no less a person than the Marquis de Talleyrand-Perigord, leaving husband and children behind.”

Society was shocked and appalled.  The Times continued “The fact that Mrs. Stevens, however, should have gone so far as to leave home and family for a Frenchman of no particular personal attractions, the Marquis being short and rather stout and decidedly ordinary-looking, and being moreover supposed to be deeply in debt, and a man having wife and family, occasioned the utmost sensation and surprise.”

Blacklisted from society and living with her lover abroad, Adele sold No. 2 West 57^th Street late in December the following year.  The New York Times reported “The Stevens mansion, covering four lots on the south-west corner of Fifth-avenue and Fifty-seventh street, has been purchased from Mrs. Adele L. S. Stevens by Mrs. William C. Whitney, for $600,000.”  The newspaper diplomatically noted that Adele was “at present sojourning” in Paris.  In fact, according to newspaper reports years later, the house had been purchased by Colonel Oliver H. Payne and presented to his sister, Flora Whitney, and her husband.

Like Frederick Stevens, William Collins Whitney came from a family long-established in America.  An ancestor, John Whitney, arrived in Massachusetts in 1635; and William’s mother was a descendant of Plymouth governor William Bradford.  Although he held a law degree and was a member of the New York bar, Whitney preferred political life.  One year after moving in to the 57^th Street mansion, he was appointed Secretary of the Navy by President Grover Cleveland.

Whitney’s political career may have been inspired by that of his father-in-law.  His wife, the former Flora Payne, was the daughter of Senator Henry B. Payne of Ohio.  The couple had five children, Harry Payne Whitney, Pauline Payne Whitney, Payne Whitney, Oliver (who had died at the age of five in 1883 a few months prior to the purchase of the 57^th Street mansion), and Dorothy Payne Whitney.

William Collins Whitney in his office as Secretary of the Navy -- from the collection of the Library of Congress

When Whitney’s term as Secretary of the Navy ended in 1889 the family returned to New York.  Stanford White was hired to remodel the interiors of the former Stevens house.  Well-known for her lavish DC entertaining, Flora now threw herself headlong into the Manhattan social whirl.  On January 11, 1891 The New York Times reported that “Mrs. William C. Whitney has announced a series of informal Saturday evening ‘at homes,’ with dancing, at her residence…to which about six hundred invitations have been issued.”

The Whitneys hosted a high-profile house guest in 1892 in the form of former President Grover Cleveland, who was once again running for office.   The President arrived in New York by boat early on the morning of July 20 and was driven directly to the Whitney mansion.  The Times wrote “Mr. Whitney was up and waiting Mr Cleveland’s coming, and met him at his gate.  It was a most cordial meeting.  After breakfast Mr. Cleveland saw several newspaper callers and then went to the library to put the finishing touches to the address that he was to deliver in Madison Square Garden in the evening, and did not see any other visitors until in the afternoon.”  The newspaper noted “Mr. Cleveland remained at Mr. Whitney’s residence all the day, ate dinner there, and from there went to the Manhattan Club, where he met the Notification Committee.”

By now, according to The Evening World, Flora Whitney was a major force among hostesses.  “Since the retirement of Mrs. Astor, she has practically held undisputed sway in the fashionable set.”  The newspaper said she “entertained sumptuously;” a claim that would be proven later that year when preparations began for Pauline’s coming-out. 

On December 3 The Times informed society that “on Saturday evening Mr. and Mrs. William C. Whitney will throw open their handsome residence at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-seventh Street to a large number of invited guests in honor of their daughter, Miss Whitney.  This reception will be the first large fashionable evening entertainment this season, and it is understood there will be dancing.”

The affair lasted from 9:00 to midnight and dazzled even the most jaded.  The Times reported that the mansion “has been the scene of many notable social events, but none have been more brilliant than the reception give last evening.”  The newspaper said “The great size of the house necessitate floral decorations on a grand scale.  In the hallway were palms reaching almost to the ceiling and springing out of beds of roses, and garlands of orchids added to the richness of the white-and-gold ballroom, where the reception was given.  The famous Whitney tapestries lined the walls of the halls and were hung over the balustrades.”

The who’s-who of guests included the President-elect and Mrs. Cleveland, and the cream of society—the Stuyvesant Fishes, the William Rhinelanders, Mayor Grant, General and Mrs. Alexander S. Webb, the Frederick Vanderbilts, the William D. Sloanes, Mr. and Mrs. Abram S. Hewitt, the Burdens, the Alexanders, the Gallatins, the Cooper Hewitts, and on and on.

A similar, if less gala, entertainment was held the following week for Henry Payne Whitney who was home from Yale for Christmas vacation.  The dinner for about 100 was served in “the great lower hall and the reception room and drawing room” and was described by The Times as “the scene of the most brilliant gathering of young people of this season.”  Following dinner The Hungarian Band played while the young heirs and heiresses danced late into the night.

from the collection of the New York Public Library

Flora Whitney had been suffering heart trouble for several years.  Although she was in her early 40s her hair was prematurely white.  Nevertheless one newspaper said “her gentle face retained the glow of freshness of youth.”  By the time of Pauline’s debut, both Flora and William had become concerned about the heart issues.  The New York Times noted “As they increased in severity both Mr. Whitney and herself began to feel apprehensive of the ultimate effects, and the most skillful medical practitioners were consulted.”

Only a few days after she hosted Henry’s dinner party, Flora suffered her worst attack.  She was confined to bed for weeks but continued to decline.  At 2:55 on the morning of February 5, 1893 she died in her bed at No. 2 West 57^th Street.  Flora’s will, containing fewer than 200 words, left her more than $3 million estate entirely to her husband.

The subdued mourning period in the 57^th Street mansion was abruptly ended with the high-profile wedding of Pauline to Almeric High Paget, grandson of the first Marquis of Anglesey and son of Lord Alfred Paget.  The ceremony took place on November 12, 1895 in fashionable St. Thomas Church.  

Millionaires and nobility were celebrated by the public much as motion picture or rock stars are today.  The Times reported “The crowd extended fully a block up and down the street, and lined along the curb as if some great procession were soon to pass by.  Most of the women appeared to be of the class that loves to read the so-called society papers.”

Celebrity watchers crowd Fifth Avenue and 57th Street to get a glimpse of the millionaire couple.  Note the tent-like structure erected to shield the bride from gawking onlookers.  photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Even the presence of the President and his wife took back stage to the Vanderbilts.  “Many persons were eager to see whether the Vanderbilts were out in force, and it was doubtful whether the small black side-whiskers of Cornelius Vanderbilt or the scarlet flowers which waved on the top of Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt’s hat caused the louder buzz of conversation.”

St. Thomas' Church was decorated with floral arches and palm trees for the wedding.  photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Following the ceremony, a wedding breakfast and reception was held in the Whitney mansion.

A section of the Whitney home set up for the wedding breakfast.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On August 25, 1896 Henry Payne Whitney married his next door neighbor and childhood playmate, Gertrude Vanderbilt.  The Cyclopedic Review reported that the wedding at The Breakers, Cornelius Vanderbilt’s cottage, “attracted much attention in society.”

Munsey’s Magazine lamented “Like her cousin, the Duchess of Marlborough, Miss Vanderbilt was married so young that New York society has had small opportunity of knowing her.”  Nevertheless, the magazine was pleased.  “It was an ideal match.  They had been playmates from childhood, are almost equal in birth and fortune, and are handsome, healthy, and happy.”

Colonel Oliver Payne’s gift to Gertrude was extravagant.  Munsey’s reported “he sent her for a wedding gift a pearl necklace ten feet long.  It surpassed the famous one collected by Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt, which has astonished London on the neck of the Duchess of Marlborough.”

Society and, reportedly, the Whitney and Payne families were surprised (and some like Oliver Payne infuriated) when less than a month later William C. Whitney announced his engagement to the widow, Edith Randolph, in Bar Harbor.  They were married within a week.  He immediately built a new country home in Lenox on an estate of 8,000 acres and imported 30 elk from Idaho for the grounds.

On February 28, 1897 the Chicago Tribune reported “Ex-Secretary and Mrs. William C. Whitney gave another of their large dinner parties at the Whitney House at No. 2 West Fifty-seventh street, on Tuesday night.  The dinner was probably the last that Mr. and Mrs. Whitney will give in the Fifty-seventh street house.”

And so it was.  William gave the residence to Harry and Gertrude while he remodeling the massive Robert Stuart mansion at No. 871 Fifth Avenue.  The newlyweds took possession of No. 2 West 57^th Street in 1897 and William and Edith leased the Harriman mansion, just west on 57^th Street.  As his parents had done, Henry hired Stanford White to update the interiors.

The young couple’s first child, Flora Payne Whitney, was born in the house on July 27, 1897.  Eighteen months later, on February 20, 1899 little Cornelius Whitney was born.  The family made it home just in time.  The New York Times remarked “Mr. and Mrs. Whitney have just returned from the South, where they have been passing several weeks.”

A year earlier William and Edith had entertained English friends in their Aiken, South Carolina estate.  On February 21 Edith suffered a fox hunting accident that left her invalid.  Thrown from her horse, her neck was dislocated.  After 15 months confined to her bed, she died in the Whitney country home in Westbury, Long Island.  She did not live to see the imposing Fifth Avenue mansion completed.

After William C. Whitney died on February 2, 1904 Harry took over the responsibilities of rearing his 17-year old sister, Dorothy.  She suffered appendicitis in June that year and was operated on in the 57^th Street mansion.    Two years later the house was once again the scene of a glittering debutante entertainment--this time for Dorothy.  Two hundred guests were invited for dinner and another 60 couples “took part in the cotillion,” reported The New York Times on January 30, 1906.

The newspaper noted “The Whitney residence is one of the most spacious in New York and has a large ballroom…Not long ago the ballroom was newly decorated and it is now one of the finest in New York.  It is in white and gold.”

By the time Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney posed for this photograph in 1916, the family had left West 57th Street.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney hosted a dance in January 1908 for “the foreign guests and relatives who have come over to attend the wedding of her sister, Miss Gladys Vanderbilt, and Count Laszlo Szechenyi.” The New York Times said “It is to be quite a handsome affair with a limited number of people asked, and those principally from the Newport set.  There will be a cotillion.”

The demolition of the Stevens-Whitney mansion reflected a dying era.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

But by now Millionaires’ Row was changing.  On January 3, 1909 the New-York Tribune reported that Harry Payne Whitney had purchased his father's former mansion at No. 871 Fifth Avenue.  The 57^th Street house was converted for business purposes.   

Then in 1919 developer August Heckscher purchased and razed the property.  Two years later the Heckscher Building opened on the site, designed by the esteemed architectural firm Warren & Wetmore.  It survives as somewhat of a Fifth Avenue landmark, known as the Crown Building.

photograph by the author

The Lost Wm. Whitney Mansion -- No. 871 Fifth Avenue

The startling renovations to the mansion neared completion in 1901.  Further up the avenue another house is being built -- photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GW6XN7H&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

On December 12, 1882 sugar refining magnate Robert L. Stuart died in his brownstone residence at No. 154 Fifth Avenue.  He left his widow an estate valued at between $5 and $6 million and the unfinished hulking stone mansion 48 blocks to the north.  Upon his death The New York Times remarked that “The new residence which Mr. Stuart was building at Sixty-eighth street and Fifth-avenue was to cost $350,000, and the owner expected to occupy it next Spring.  It is very nearly completed, and will prove one of the most notable ornaments of the avenue.  It has a frontage on Fifth-avenue of 55 feet, and on Sixty-eighth-street of 136 feet, and the general style of the architecture is the Renaissance.”

Robert Stuart died just months before his new mansion was completed -- NYPL Collection

Stuart ensured that the sidewalk fronting his mansion would be flawless.  The Times said “The flagstone in front of the main entrance is the largest ever quarried and laid in one piece, being 26 feet 6 inches long, 15 feet 6 inches wide, and 9 inches think, and weighing 430 tons.”

Stuart had commissioned architect William Schickel to design the mansion he would never occupy.  Schickel combined elements of the French Second Empire and Renaissance Revival styles to create a bulky confection of oriels, balconies, dormers and cast iron cresting.  The widowed Mary McCrea Stuart had the mansion completed at a final cost of $640,000 not including the land.  She moved into the new Fifth Avenue mansion, entertaining in the three large parlors, impressive dining room and ballroom. 

Eventually the aging Mary’s health showed signs of decline.  In 1887 she slipped while going to her carriage and broke a leg.  For months she was confined to bed in the house.  In February 1889 she showed symptoms of pneumonia and traveled to Thomasville, Georgia with her companion, Miss Stratton and several servants.  When her condition continued to decline, her doctor was summoned from New York.  The New York Times reported that “Upon his arrival a consultation took place concerning Mrs. Stuart’s wish that she should be removed to her home in Sixty-eighth-street.  The physicians did not fancy this, believing that such a course would be fatal to the patient, but her will was not to be withstood.”

A special train was chartered to transport Mary Stuart home, “under the contract to make Jersey City within a day.”  She 75-year old widow paid $1000 for the special train which traveled at the then-astounding average speed of 41 miles per hour.  Within the contracted 24 hours she was back in her bed at No. 871 Fifth Avenue.  She survived the pneumonia and the trip, but would die here at the age of 81 on December 30, 1891.

After Mary’s charitable bequeaths were fulfilled and the valuable collection of artwork and books were donated to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, an auction of her residual property was held in March 1893.  “The sale, by Mr. Peter F. Meyer,” said The New York Times “was a remarkably successful one in all respects save one.  This exception was the mansion on Fifth Avenue.”

Offers were made on the spacious mansion for over a year, none of which satisfied the executors of the estate.  Finally on December 10, 1894 Amzi L. Barber of the Barber and Trinidad Asphalt Companies purchased it for $675,000.

Barber had renovations done; and by 1895 he and his wife were entertaining in the updated mansion.  Society pages reported on dinners and musicales, like the one for Mrs. Anna Randall Diehl in the residence that year.

But Barber would be here for only about two years.  The mansion became the home of Levi P. Morton, former Vice President of the United States under Benjamin Harrison, and Governor of New York.  Morton’s governorship had ended in 1896 and he leased the house from its new owner, former Secretary of the Navy William C. Whitney. 

While Morton was in the house, Whitney and his wife were living at the southwest corner of 57^th Street and Fifth Avenue.  Whitney had purchased that brownstone mansion from the Duchess de Dino thirteen years earlier.  Now, Whitney’s son, Harry Payne Whitney, was on his honeymoon with his new bride, Gertrude Vanderbilt, and the 57^th Street house was his father’s wedding present to the newlyweds.  “Mr. Whitney will continue to occupy the house he is in now until his son returns,” reported The Sun on November 25, 1896.  The newspaper added, “What he paid for the Stuart house is not made known.”

In the meantime Governor Morton made full use of the 68^th Street mansion.  On Christmas Eve 1896 he hosted a dinner in honor of the Governor-elect, Frank S. Black.  Around the dining room table that evening were Mayor Strong, Mayor Wurster of Brooklyn, Mayor Gleason of Long Island City, General Benjamin F. Tracy, former Mayor Thomas F. Gilrov, Seth Low, Justice John F. Dillon, General Stewart L. Woodford, Senator Clarence Lexow, Lieutenant Governor Thomothy L. Woodruff and a host of other political luminaries.

William and Edith Whitney had been married in 1895, two years after William’s first wife Flora had died.  They were pleased with the location of the former Stuart mansion, but not its style.  The 14-year old house was already out of fashion and the couple commissioned Stanford White to remodel it into a modern showplace.  The renovation would take six years and--just as Robert L. Stuart had not lived to see his completed mansion--Edith Sibyl Randolph Whitney died during construction.

By March 1902 the mansion was nearing completion and a United States Circuit Court judge was required to make a decision regarding three ceilings.  The ceilings were removed from the Barberini Palace in Florence and, according to The Sun on March 14, “are exquisitely painted in oils, on wood, and date back to the fourteenth century.  The artists who painted them are unknown but the work is said to be worthy of the masters.”  Although the Museum of Art of Berlin was eager to acquire one of the ceilings, “Mr. Whitney bought all three at a price that was higher than any museum could afford,” said The Sun.

Now that they had arrived in New York, there was a question on how duty should be charged.  “When the Board of Appraisers was called upon to assess the duties, the question arose: whether the ceilings should be classed as manufactures of wood or as paintings by foreign artists.”  The Board classified them in the first, more expensive duty category, like Vienna chairs or umbrella handles.  William Whitney filed a protest and won.

“Judge Coxe, in his decision, points out that the value of the wood in the ceilings is infinitesimal, as compared with their value as paintings” reported the newspaper.

Rooms were dismantled from European palaces and shipped to New York -- photo McKim, Mead & White, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GW6DINF&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

Among other imported architectural features was the music room, 60 feet long by 30 feet high, which was originally in the castle of Phoebus d’Albert, Baron of Tours during the time of Louis XIV.  The room was moved to Paris in the reign of Louis Philippe, and then to New York by Whitney.  The elaborately wrought iron and bronze entrance gates came from the Doria Palace in Italy.  The main hall contained 16^th century stained glass windows.

photo McKim, Mead & White, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GW6DINF&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

Finally the house was completed and there was little trace of the Stuart mansion remaining.  The entrance was now centered on 68^th Street (although the more impressive Fifth Avenue address was retained).  White retained some elements—the slightly projecting central section on 68^th Street, the row of arched openings along the third floor, the cornice and remnants of the mansard roof—but transformed the bulk of the house into a stylish, modern residence.

The New York Times said that Stanford White “entirely remodeled it.  Mr. Whitney refitted it with art treasures, which he had selected during various trips to Europe.  Panelings from European palaces, wrought iron work from Florence, marbles from Roman temples, and carvings from cathedrals are all included in the decorative scheme.”

On December 18, 1903 Whitney gave the first grand entertainment in the house.  “William C. Whitney gave the first notably brilliant ball of the season last night at his home, 871 Fifth avenue,” said The Sun.  “It was a coming out festivity for Mr. Whitney’s niece, Miss Katherine Barney.”

The widowed millionaire’s mansion was gaily decorated for the occasion.  “The walls and ceiling of the wide lower hall were trellised with vines in which were myriads of electric bulbs,” said The Sun.  “Red velvet carpets were thrown on the marble floor, and the stairways were filled in with plants and made into a big picturesque cosey corner.”

On February 1, 1904 The Evening World reported that Whitney was seriously ill.  He had been operated on for appendicitis a few days earlier and complications set in.  “Mr. Whitney’s chances are not of the best,” said a doctor  “He is in very critical condition and anything may happen at any moment…The operation on Mr. Whitney was a success as an operation, but Mr. Whitney did not recover from the shock and has steadily lost strength since.”

The Evening World published a disturbing headline and photo of the mansion as Whitney faded (copyright expired)

The following day, at 4:00 in the afternoon, Whitney died in the 68^th Street house.  He left an estate valued at over $21 million including the mansion which was assessed at $1.4 million in which he had lived only two years.

A little-known, bachelor stockbroker purchased the mansion, its furnishings and artwork as a package.  James Henry “Silent” Smith not only had his own fortune, but had inherited several million dollars from his uncle, George Smith.  Like its previous owners, Smith would not live long in the mansion at No. 871 Fifth Avenue.  Although the broker had been termed “mousy” prior to moving in to the house, he now hobnobbed with the upper echelon of society, including Mamie Fish.  He became fast friends with Annie and William Rhinelander Stewart, sharing his opera box with them and going on extended yacht trips.

Annie Stewart and James Smith became such good friends, in fact, that in August 1906 she divorced William and a month later married Smith.  The couple boarded a steamer for Japan for their honeymoon.  Smith would not return to New York alive.

He arrived in Kyoto seriously ill and died there in March 1907.  Smith’s body was sent home in a coffin that weighed a ton and took eight men to carry.   The new Mrs. Smith, her sister the Duchess of Manchester, and her daughter, Anita Stewart “were all in deep mourning” when the coffin arrived at Grand Central Depot on May 5, 1907, according to The Sun.  “They went to the Smith home at 871 Fifth Avenue.”  It was the first time that Annie Stewart Smith had entered the house as an occupant.

For the second time in three years the body of the mansion’s owner lay in one of the parlors.   Annie’s son, William Rhinelander Stewart, Jr., told reporters “We will probably not keep the house, but I suppose that is provided for in the will.”  The Sun said “He intimated that the house might be sold back to the Whitney family.”  (Indeed, when Smith’s will was read “he instructed his executors to give the first refusal to buy the premises No. 871 Fifth avenue to Harry Payne Whitney,” said the New-York Tribune later.)

Instead, Annie lived here for a few years, before putting the house on the market for $2.5 million in 1908.  On January 3, 1909 the New-York Tribune reported that a buyer had been found.  That buyer was Harry Payne Whitney who purchased the house complete with his father’s furniture, artwork and antiques, just as Smith had done.  “Included in the list of paintings are works by Van Dyck, Costa, Cranach, Murillo, Gainsborough, Diaz, and John La Farge,” said The Times.

Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney in 1916 -- photo Library of Congress

On February 7, 1910 Mrs. Whitney gave a reception for about 200 guests.  Nahan Franko’s orchestra played and Anna Pavlowa and Michael Mordkine of the Imperial Opera House of St. Petersburg and Moscow made their American debut.  “Last night’s was the first large entertainment given by Mrs. Whitney since the former home of William C. Whitney was bought by Mr. Whitney from the estate of the late J. Henry Smith,” noted The Times.

In 1915 the Whitneys had a large overmantel decoration installed.  The New York Times described it as “a remarkable bas relief cast from solid tin, which is said to be the largest work of art of that material ever made in this country.  The relief bears the portraits of their children, Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitney and Miss Flora Whitney.  The original work was modeled in 1907 by James Earle Fraser, the sculptor.”

The piece was six feet long and five feet high, weighing more than 900 pounds.  “The material is so treated as to have the appearance of old silver,” said The Times.  “The boy and girl are shown mounted on ponies, and there is in the work the spirit of the out-of-doors life.  Both are bareheaded.”

As World War I erupted, the Whitneys turned their attention to war relief.  On May 17, 1918 an auction was held in the ballroom for the benefit of the Italian Red Cross.  Socialites bid on diamond horseshoe boxes at the Metropolitan Opera House and publisher Frank Crowninshield urged the women to donate generously.  “Come, ladies,” he said, “now’s the time to take your diamond tiaras out of moth balls.”

The auction raised approximately $10,475 for the cause.

Flora and Barbara Whitney would prove to be models of social decorum--unlike their brother.  On April 19, 1920 Flora was married to Roderick Tower in St. Bartholomew’s Church.  “Not only was New York’s ‘Four Hundred’ represented, but Philadelphia’s as well,” reported the New-York Tribune.  The church was decorated with 15,000 lilies.

The reception was held in at No. 871 which “like the church, was decorated with lilies and roses.  These flowers, with bay trees, were used throughout the reception rooms and great hall, as well as the ballroom, and likewise in the dining room, where the buffet was served.”

The following year was Barbara’s coming out and the ballroom was the scene of a grand ball on January 5, 1921.

The Fifth Avenue neighborhood around the Whitney house in the 1920s was still one of private homes -- photo NYPL Collection

The publicity brought to the house by Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitney was less positive.  In August 1921 dancer Evan Burrows Fontaine filed a $1 million suit against him saying “that her eighteen-months-old baby is the son of young Whitney and that repeated promises of marriage were never fulfilled.”

Cornelius Whitney vehemently denied the allegations and eventually succeeding in having the case dismissed.  In 1923 he married the debutante Marie Norton; who later filed for divorce in July 1929.

In October 1930 Harry Payne Whitney contracted a slight cold, but went about his business as usual.  When the malady worsened, Dr. John A. Hartwell and several other physicians were called in and although pneumonia had developed, it was not believed to be severe.  Within a few days Whitney died in his bed at No. 871 Fifth Avenue.  He left an estate of over $61 million.

Two years later the house would be in the headlines as a bitter custody battle ensued over little Gloria Morgan Vanderbilt.  Gloria’s mother, Gloria Morgan, was the sister-in-law of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney.  On a Friday afternoon Gloria allowed little Gloria to be taken to “feed the pigeons in Central Park.”  Instead she was whisked off to No. 871 Fifth Avenue. 

Court battles lasted for over two years in which Gertrude Whitney, little Gloria’s nurse and doctors, and others testified that Gloria Morgan was an unfit mother.  The Times reported that “Mrs. Whitney said that while the child has been living with her for more than two years past, ‘her mother has rarely seen her,’ and to Mrs. Whitney’s best recollection ‘her mother has had her overnight on only one occasion since the visit commencing Sept. 18, 1934.”

In 1939 Gertrude Whitney purchased the four-story Eila Haggin McKee house at No. 874 Fifth Avenue, possibly to protect her own mansion from demolition.  “With the property at 871 Fifth Avenue,” said The Times, “Mrs. Whitney now controls a plot 100 by 200 feet on the northeast corner of Sixty-eighth Street.”

But by 1942 Gertrude Whitney was spending less and less time in the Fifth Avenue mansion.  Finally, on April 10 that year, The New York Times reported on its scheduled demolition.  The newspaper said “it has been a center of social life in a neighborhood formerly made up of private residences of the wealthy.  One by one these have given way in late years to apartment houses.”

The article described some of the rare interiors.  “The main hall is of imposing size, with a floor of marbles inlaid with 10,000 pieces of brass.  The Renaissance ceiling formerly was in the Bardini collection in Florence.  The fireplace, of carved white stone in the style of Henri II, formerly in the chateau of the Sieur Franc de Conseil at Aigues-Mortes, France, has a depth of five feet.  The walls and the stairway, with its elaborately carved balustrade, are of Istrian marble.  French seventeenth-century stained glass, rare old hangings and paintings complete the decoration of the hall.

“Opening off this spacious passage are two large rooms facing on Fifth Avenue, one the drawing room, with ceiling from a Roman palace and wall coverings of damask, the other the library, with fifteenth century Italian white marble fireplace, Italian antique ceiling, and elaborately carved old walnut bookcases built in.”

A massive mid-century apartment house of stone and brick stands on the site of the Whitney mansion.  It was sometimes called the most palatial house in New York; but then others claimed that title as well.  It was nevertheless a remarkable and irreplaceable example of architecture and art.