The Long History of the Everard's Baths - 26-30 West 28th Street

On March 18, 1859 The New York Herald reported "The interesting and solemn ceremony of laying the corner stone of the First Free Will Baptist church, to be erected in Twenty-eighth street, near Broadway, was performed yesterday afternoon, in the presence of a large and attentive congregation."  It was the first step in a very long and varied history for the coming building.

The church, at Nos. 28-30 West 28th Street, was completed the following year.  Five years later, when it was acquired by the congregation of the Disciples of Christ, the neighborhood was still respectfully residential.

But by the mid-1870's the private home owners fled northward as the theater and hotel district engulfed the neighborhood.  In the early 1880's the old church building was being used as a concert hall and was partly occupied by the Horticultural Society.   Then, on January 21, 1888 The Evening World commented simply "Brewer James Everard is going into the Turkish bath business on Twenty-eighth street, near Broadway."

Russian and Turkish "vapor baths" had been fashionable for several decades.  Unlike the later city-owned Free Public Baths which teemed with tenement dwellers who had no means of bathing at home, the Russian and Turkish baths catered to middle- and upper-class patrons.  They offered upscale amenities and Everard's baths would provide overnight lodging, as well.

James Everard so completely remodeled the former church structure that it was unrecognizable.  On May 3, 1888 The Sun wrote "James Everard's Russian and Turkish bath house at 28 and 30 West Twenty-eighth street, just completed, was thrown open to public inspection last evening, and the rooms were thronged."  Everard boasted that his male-only facility was superior to any other Russian or Turkish bath in the world.

"The visitor passes through a side room, where there is a buffet, to the main room.  It is two stories high, with a gallery around it on all sides.  Around the sides of the main room are private dressing rooms, and around the gallery above are sleeping rooms," said the article.

The lavish Victorian decor of the main room included a large stained glass skylight surrounded by frescoes.  "The skylight is exactly over a tank which is in the Turkish bath room, and which is the price of the establishment."  That "tank," or pool, was 50 feet long and 20 feet wide and ranged from 4 to 6 feet in depth.  Its 65,000 gallons of artesian well water was kept at a constant 60 degrees.

The Shampoo Alcoves (above) and the marble-lined Russian Bath.  The Engineering and Building Record, June 9, 1888 (copyright expired)

Behind the Turkish bath was the Russian bath, its walls lined in white marble.  Here was a smaller "plunge," or swimming pool, this one holding 20,000 gallons.  Two "needle baths" flanked the hall between the Russian and Turkish baths.  They were so named because the user was sprayed with strong, massaging jets of water.  The Sun wrote "A young man in a dress suit attempted to show a young lady last evening the working of the valves by turning them one after another.  The young man unfortunately turned a valve which directed a stream on himself, and before he could escape he was wet to the skin from the knees down."

Around 1896 James Everard took over the saloon in the converted house next door.  A sign over the entrance (left) reads "Jas. Everard Lager Beer."  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

An advertisement in the New-York Tribune on May 16 touted the operation with superlatives:

Everard's Russian, Turkish, Roman and Electric Baths, 28th-st., three doors west of Broadway, and directly opposite the 5th Avenue Theatre, are unequalled in London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, Constantinople, Jerusalem, Cairo, or on this continent for their lavish details of beauty, peerless plunge-baths (the largest in the world)., thorough ventilation and spacious salons superbly illuminated by incandescent lights.  The various departments are under the care of professional, expert and skilled attendants.  This unexampled rendezvous of health will never close Sundays or holidays, and we are prepared to receive our guests at all hours with polite and attentive service.

It was not long before the first unpleasant incident took place.  On Friday evening, July 13 a well-to-do broker, Edward P. White, entered the baths with an associate, C. E. Brown.  Brown checked his valuables at the desk, but White decided not to bother.  The New-York Tribune reported "When the two friends were ready to go, after having taken their baths, Mr. White felt for his watch to see what time it was, but it was gone."

White called for the manager, James W. Collier.  Collier insisted White did not come in with a watch and the discussion became so heated that an policeman was called to arrest White.  "Mr. White, besides feeling keenly the loss of his watch, which he carried all through the late war, is highly indignant at the treatment he received," said the Tribune.

The cover of an advertising brochure showed marble wainscoting and stained glass.  copyright expired

James Everard died in 1913.  His daughter, Olga Julia, inherited the baths and it was most likely she who initiated a drastic change to its policy.  On August 29, 1914 The Evening Telegraph reported "The Everard Baths at 24 [sic] to 30 West 28th Street, one of the oldest establishments of its kind in the city, will be for the exclusive use of women after September 1.  They have been taken over for the purpose by Dr. I. B. Rosenberg of the Murray Hill Baths."

An advertisement in The Brooklyn Daily Eagle called it the "first institution of its kind in the world" and said that the baths "have been entirely renovated and will be devoted to ladies exclusively.  It may be aptly called "A Woman's Club."  Here, it promised, at any hour of the day or night female patrons would enjoy "an invigorating bath and swim, a bit to eat, and retire to a comfortable sleeping room."

The list of feminine-focused amenities included "hairdressing, chiropody, manicuring, massage," and an "electric reducing system."  The "perfect hotel accommodations" included an à la carte restaurant.

New-York Tribune, May 20, 1916 (copyright expired)

Dr. Rosenberg's new venture quickly failed.  In 1916 the Everard's Baths once again became a male-only domain.  An advertisement in February that year noted that the masseurs and attendants were trained in "Nauheim, Carlsbad, Mud, Vichy, Pine Needle, Sand and Electric Baths."  The guidebook, Rider's New York City, listed the prices:  "Plain Bath, 50c; Turkish or Russian Bath, $1.25; Nauheim, Carlsbad or Vichy Bath, $3.00."  The most expensive of these would equal about $72 today.

At the end of World War I the neighborhood was again changing as the fashionable hotels and theater district moved further north.  Nevertheless, on April 14, 1921 The New York Herald reported that lawyer Abraham Horowitz had purchased the building.  The New York Times noted he had spend $175,000 on the property and "About $100,000 will be spent in refurnishing and re-equipping the place for use as a Russian bath" capable of accommodating 500 patrons.  The total cost to Horowitz would be equal to about $3.93 million in today's dollars.

The massive renovations were well underway by June 25 when the Record & Guide reported "The old front of the building has been removed and a new facade, of pleasing modern design, is being erected."  It promised to continue to be a high-end facility catering to well-heeled patrons.  The journal predicted that when the alterations were completed it would be "one of the finest and best equipped Turkish baths in New York City."  Visitors would enjoy "new steam and hot rooms, showers, pool, rest rooms, etc." as well as "a high class restaurant, barber shop, with manicure and chiropodist in attendance." 

The Victorian facade was removed and replaced by vast, arched openings which flooded the interior with natural light.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The renovated Everard's Baths reopened on January 28, 1922.  The first floor and mezzanine contained the restaurant, pool, "lounging rooms," lockers, and other areas related to the baths.  The top floor, held 100 sleeping rooms, and was termed a "dormitory" in Department of Building documents.  

Not all the press coverage was about the upscale amenities.  On September 24, 1927 the Brooklyn newspaper the Times Union reported on the brutal murder of 46-year old newspaperman Frank O'Connor who was "beaten to death yesterday morning in the Everard Baths."  Three men were arrested, professional boxer Anthony De Lucca who fought under the name of Frankie Fay, and two ex-convicts, Nicholas Arietano and Amerigo De Giovanni.

The baths were renovated again in 1932.  On March 28 the Times Union reported "Everard Baths, 28 West 28th st., Manhattan, famed for many decades as the health rendezvous of famous persons the world over, and as much an institution as any of Europe's great spas, has taken on a new lease of life."  The remodeling included the "installation of the most modern physio-thereapeutical appliances, expert attendants preside over the colonic irrigation chambers, metal and oxide baths and other therapeutic features, with professional attendants always on hand."

The 1932 remodeling did not affect the exterior appearance.  Times Union, March 28, 1932

By mid-century the high-end clientele of the Everard Baths was gone.  Increasingly it became a meeting spot for homosexuals at a time when gay bars were illegal and other meeting places, like theaters or public toilets, were dangerous.  By the 1960's it was patronized exclusively by gays.  And as homosexuals became more visible, concern was raised.

On December 17, 1963 Robert C. Doty wrote in The New York Times "The problem of homosexuality in New York became the focus yesterday of increased attention by the State Liquor Authority and the Police Department...The city's most sensitive open secret--the presence of what is probably the greatest homosexual population in the world and its increasing openness--has become the subject of growing concern of psychiatrists, religious leaders and the police."

The once lavish Everard Baths had declined.  Bruce Voeller, a director in the national Gay Task Force described it in 1977 as a "shabby, dreadful place--rundown and grubby beyond words."  He said that it was popular "only because of its long tradition and the safety of the area."  The New York Times wrote that since its last Certificate of Occupancy in 1921 "most of the second and third floors have been divided into cubicles, with scarcely room for a bed and coat hangers, and with plywood partitions part way to the ceiling."

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

On May 25, 1977 terror swept through the dingy corridors of the Everard Baths.  The New York Times reported "Nine men were killed and 10 were injured yesterday in an early-morning fire that destroyed a Manhattan bathhouse that catered to homosexuals."  The article went on, "Scores of men, some clad only in towels or robes, fled their rented cubicles and the dormitory at the Everard Baths...as dense smoke poured out of the three-story building."

200 firemen and 31 pieces of equipment battled the fierce flames.  The New York Times, May 26, 1977

Rev. Gil Lincoln of the Metropolitan Community Church spent the following day at Bellevue Hospital.  "One man recognized the charred body of his lover only by a ring he had given him," he told a reporter.  "They had been a couple for six years--teachers in their mid-30's, just returned from jobs in the Middle East."

Despite the notoriety gained through the tragedy, the Everard Baths was rebuilt and reopened.  Gone were the 1921 two-story arched openings and the peaked gable.  The end of the nearly 100-year history of Everard's Baths came in 1986 when, because of the onset of the AIDS crisis, the city shut down all bath houses in the city for health concerns.  

A renovation completed in 1988 resulted in stores and wholesale showrooms throughout the building.  

photographs by the author

The 1902 J. Edgar Willing House - 310 West 92nd Street

photo via streeteasy.com

In 1901 the partnership of Elisha Harris Janes and Richard Leopold Leo was only three years old, but the architects were being noticed for their work like the striking Alimar Apartments on West End Avenue and 105th Street.    That year Daniel Hallecy and John J. Egan, partners in the Egan & Hallecy Construction Company, tried their hand at real estate development and hired Leo & Janes to design four upscale rowhouses on West 92nd Street between Riverside Drive and West End Avenue.

The plans, filed in July 1901, placed the cost of construction at $215,000--or about $1.33 million each.  Completed the following year, the four-story Beaux Arts style residences would have held their own on the Upper East Side or Riverside Drive.  

No. 310 sits in the center of the impressive row of homes.

No. 310 was the centerpiece of the five.  The decorative reserve of its base was more than atoned for by the three-story midsection.  A double-height angled bay was anchored by a stone balustrade that created a faux balcony.   The French windows at this level were topped by a pediment sumptuously overflowing with carved fruits, below which garlands of fruit trailed from lions' heads.  The third floor terminated in decorative carvings above the windows, and scrolled brackets that upheld a wrought iron railed balcony.  Two French cartouches flanked the top floor below the modillioned cornice.

Carved fruit completely fills the pediment above the second story French windows.

In September 1902 Egan & Hallecy sold the newly-completed house to Mary A. G. McLochlin.  Although she bought and sold real estate regularly, the widow purchased No. 310 as her permanent home.  At least for a while.

Four years later, in October 1906 she sold it to Frances Sprague.  Like Mary, Frances was a widow.  She moved into the house with her baby daughter, also named Frances.

The mother and daughter lived quietly, garnering no social comment.  Their low-key existence did not preclude the expected travels to summer resorts and such.  A trip in 1914, possibly to Europe, was extensive enough to warrant Frances's leasing the East 92nd Street house to Harry Lesser.

Society columnists finally had something to report in the summer of 1917.  On June 24 The Sun announced "Arrangements have been completed for the wedding of Mrs. Frances Sprague, daughter of Mrs. Lewis Whitlock, to John Watson Dixon in the chantry of St. Thomas's Church."  The article noted "the bride's only attendant will be her little daughter, Frances Sprague."

photo via streeteasy.com

Dixon was a highly-educated attorney who held two degrees from the University of Nebraska and another from Yale University.  

On June 14, 1919 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that Frances had sold No. 310 for $50,000 (about $740,000 today) to a buyer "for occupancy."  That buyer was the Philadelphia-born architect J. Edgar Willing.

As a tragic side note, seven years later, on July 26, 1926, the Buffalo Evening News reported that the four-day heat wave had taken 160 lives.  "Among the New York victims were John Watson Dixon, lawyer and president of the Yale club."  His funeral was held in St. Thomas's Church, where he and Frances had been married just nine years earlier.  His prominence in the community was reflected in the names of the high-ranking mourners present, including Cornelius Vanderbilt, Irving E. Burdick, Charles E. Merrill, Jr., and Alfred E. Schermerhorn.

J. Edgar Willing's wife, the former Grace Lee Smidt, had died in 1911.  As Frances Sprague had done, he moved in with a daughter, Louise.  And as those two had done, the father and daughter traveled to fashionable resorts and abroad.  On August 30, 1921, for instance, The New York Herald reported that they had just arrived in Paris.  And, after the pair had spent the following summer season in Lenox, the New-York Tribune announced on September 3, 1922 that they had just arrived at the Greylock Hotel in Williamstown, Massachusetts.

William was a member of the Architectural League, the University Club, the Players and the American Institute of Architects.  Following his marriage to Aline Lee, around 1927, the family moved to a home in Westbrook, Connecticut.  
No. 310 next became home to the New York School of Music.  Headed by Ralfe Leech Sterner, the institution provided "dormitory accommodations" for out of town students.  

Among the students to earn press attention in 1932 was Mildred P. Greenwood.  She was one of three solo artists invited to play in the grand ballroom of the Hotel Astor before the Drama Comedy Club on February 5 that year.  The young pianist from Atlanta was studying under Arthur Friedham, a former pupil of Franz Liszt, and musical interpretation under Frederick Riesberg.  The Pittsburgh Courier made a special note that "Miss Greenwood is the first colored girl from Georgia to receive a Rosenwald scholarship in music."

On August 26, 1938 The New York Sun reported that Ralfe Leech Sterner had leased the five story mansion at No. 34 Riverside Drive, noting that the New York School of Music Art "has been located at 310 West Ninety-second street for eleven years."  The school remained in No. 310 into 1939 as its new home was renovated.  

In 1946 the Aleena Realty Corporation purchased the former Willing house for $47,000, or around $615,000 today.  It is unclear if it remained a private house for the next two decades or was rented as unofficial apartments.  But in 1964 a conversion resulted in one apartment on the first floor, three each on floors two through four, and two on the top floor.

A subsequent renovation in 2000 nearly returned to house to a single-family residence.  Only the two top floor apartments now remained.  That all changed when No. 310 was recently purchased by owners who are returning the striking residence to a private home.

The Lost Plant-Hayward Mansion - 1051 Fifth Avenue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Architectural forum, November 1922 (copyright expired)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

photo via cityrealty.com

Buchman & Kahn's 1929 Art Deco 261 Fifth Avenue

The glory days of brick and brownstone mansions along Fifth Avenue below 34th Street were gone by the mid-1920's.  A decade earlier loft and store buildings had begun replacing the venerable homes.  In 1928 the three four- and five-story buildings at Nos. 259 through 263 Fifth Avenue and 2 through 6 East 29th Street were prepared for demolition.

Scaffolding girds the old buildings and debris chutes pierce the lower windows of No. 263 as demolition gets underway in 1928.  photo by Buchman & Kahn, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The properties had been amassed by the newly-formed Fifth Avenue & 29th Street Corp.  The design of the syndicate's 26-story multi-purpose building (it would house showrooms, offices and manufacturing space) was given to the architectural firm of Buchman & Kahn.  There is no doubt that Ely Jacques Kahn took the reins on what would be one of the last of the firm's commissions.  (He would take over the practice in 1930, renaming it Ely Jacques Kahn Architects.)   As Anthony W. Robins put it in his 2017 book New York Art Deco, "The wonderfully fine-grained detail, the sensibility of decorative objets-d'art, could only be Kahn--no other architect produced anything like this."

As construction was well underway in the fall, Kahn was among the speakers at a ceremony at the job site on October 17, 1928.  The New York Times explained "Eighteen mechanics who have shown outstanding ability during the construction of the twenty-five-story [sic] story office building at 261 Fifth Avenue...will receive certificates and gold buttons."  Almost every facet of the construction process was represented among the recipients--a bricklayer, carpenter, plumber, ornamental iron worker, roofer, etc.

The newly-completed building was featured on an advertising piece for the Youngstown Buckeye Company & Youngstown Pipe.  from the collection of the Youngstown Historical Center of Industry and Labor

Construction was completed in 1929.  Kahn had produced a jazz age Art Deco structure unlike any other in the city.  Using geometric forms and bands executed in vivid multi-colored terra cotta, the architect harkened to motifs similar to those used by Frank Lloyd Wright.  

Kahn's original Fifth Avenue entrance which included an inverted stairstep design and Art Deco panels...

was replaced during a renovation with a grill which strived to pay respect to Kahn's design.  Top photo by Sigurd Fischer from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York, Bottom photo by Beyond My Ken

The ground floor tenant was the newly-formed Broadway National Bank and Trust Company, which opened for business on June 25, 1929.  Its Art Deco interiors were designed by Louis H. Friedland.  The New York Times reported "Marble columns and pilasters in black and gold are features of the decoration of the main banking room, with an ornamental decorative ceiling."  The bank had spared little expense on materials.  "The grill is of marble, black and gold, with flush French walnut marquetry paneling, surrounded by a screen of gun-metal finish bronze with metal trimmings," said the article.  "The vestibule, on the Fifth Avenue part, is of gray Formosa marble on French walnut marquetry panels covered with metal and bronze trimmings and cornice."  

The 18-foot high walls of the chairman's office were paneled in French walnut mahogany and the ceiling had decorative plasterwork.  Marble pilasters decorated the board room.

As the showrooms and offices filled with businesses typical of the district--carpeting and textile firms, for instance--one stood out.  Amtorg Trading Corporation was among the first to move in.  It was the only organization empowered by the Soviet Union to purchase American goods and to sign contracts for importation of Soviet products.  It was, as well, tasked with providing American firms information about trade opportunities in the U.S.S.R. and to inform the Soviets about American technical advances and information on American firms.

But there was more going on in the offices of Amtorg Trading Corporation.  On July 28, 1930 the Queens newspaper, the Daily Star, reported "Federal officials charge that the Amtorg Trading Corporation, which has been under the searching scrutiny of the House of Representatives committee investigating Communistic affairs, is implicated in [an] alleged smuggling plot."

Two men, Jacob Kreitz and a man named Winfield, "who is said to be a Soviet agent," had been arrested for smuggling Russian-made watches into the country.  U. S. Attorney Charles H. Tuttle declared "he has ascertained that Wolode Asaturov, described as a controller in the Amtorg company, played a role in the alleged illegal importation."

Colorful terra cotta ornamentation adorns the upper floors.

In Kreitz's pocket when he was arrested was "a little black book" which contained the names and addresses of 25 Soviet agents in the United States.  Sewn into the underside of his coat lapel was a four-inch ribbon which read "The bearer of this badge is a trustworthy servant of the Soviet and may be trusted with any secrets."

Despite Federal suspicions of espionage, Amtorg Trading Corporation continued to operate from No. 261 Fifth Avenue.  On April 24, 1931 The Daily Record reported "Russia Soviet Republic has placed orders with Rochester manufacturing firms amount to $600,000 so far this year...All contracts for Russia are placed through the Amtorg Trading Corporation, 261 Fifth Avenue, New York.  Many more large contracts for Russia are expected to be placed here."

Apparently not every worker in the office was entirely content.  On April 28, 1932 45-year old clerk, Pauline Lodge, threw herself from a window in Amtorg Trading Corporation's 18th floor offices.  Police found a note in her pocket which read:

To the city:  Bury me like a dog, but don't disturb the people where I stay.  Pauline Lodge.

When the manager of the office was asked about the tragedy, he simply said she was "disgusted with life."

Two views of the lobby.  photos by Sigurd Fischer from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

With the repeal of Prohibition, Amtorg Trading Corporation seized the opportunity.  On November 3, 1934 The Advocate reported that the Soviet Russia Vodka Wine & Liquor Corp. had opened in No. 261 Fifth Avenue with a license to sell wholesale liquor.

In the meantime, the more expected tenants in the building included the Native Laces & Textiles, Inc., Pacific Mills, and Botany Worsted Mills throughout the 1940's.  A much different wartime tenant was the Vulcanized Rubber & Plastics Company.  

While textile and home goods firms continued to call No. 261 Fifth Avenue home at mid-century, the tenant list broadened.  In 1951 Screen Stories magazine was published here, followed by Modern Screen and Filmland magazines by 1958.  At the same time the Decorative Cabinet Corp. was leasing space.

Throughout the next decades firms like Jolo Plastics Corporation, makers of mattress and pillow coverings, counter coverings and protective items; Cameo Curtains, Inc.; and Ex-Cell Home Fashions were in the building.  In 1988 Ex-Cell introduced its Skirt-It product, what Taconic Newspapers called "an innovative sink skirt" that "transforms an ordinary sink into a spacious decorative vanity, hiding unsightly plumbing and pipes and adding fashion flair, in a matter of minutes."  (The ambitious home decorator could purchase towels, shower curtains and window curtains to match.)

No. 261 Fifth Avenue became part of the massive property holdings of Harry B. Helmsley.   In 1982 he admitted to a reporter "I'm cheap," and as evidence pointed out that he changed the name of the New York Central Building at No. 230 Park Avenue to the New York General Building so he would have to change only two letters on the facade.  (It was later renamed the Helmsley Building.)

It was perhaps this notorious parsimony that resulted in No. 261 Fifth Avenue's being little altered.  Upon his death in 1997 it passed to his widow, Leona M. Helmsley.  It was purchased by Investment Properties Associates the following year, which resold it prior to 2000.

The lobby as it appears in 2020.

In 2008 a restoration and renovation was begun by Israel Berger Architects, PC.  Included was the amazingly-intact lobby, with its original lighting and other fixtures.  The gold leaf of the lobby ceiling was carefully redone by YVStudio.  The six-year project brought Ely Jacques Kahn's striking Art Deco design back to its 1929 appearance.  

The re-fabricated entrance more closely resembles the 1929 original.

photographs by the author