The Stephen H. Brown Mansion -- No. 154 East 70th Street

In the first years of the 20^th century the block of East 70^th Street between Lexington and Third Avenue was undergoing dramatic change.  It started when, according to the Real Estate Record & Builder’s Guide in 1906, “an owner whose family suffered from mental derangement undertook to erect a private sanitary at 154 and 156 East 70^th st., being on the south side, but when only partly completed was stricken down, the construction ceasing where it was.”

The family was that of wealthy real estate developer Joseph L. Buttenweiser.  At the time of the Guide’s article, the iron framework of the sanitarium had been completed.  Now moneyed families were purchasing old brownstones on the block and erecting upscale residences.  In October 1906 Howard Conklin purchased No. 157, and the journal noted that “Nos. 158, 160, and 162 were also bought up and modeled from flats into private dwellings.”

Stephen Howland Brown had already set his sights on the abandoned sanitarium project.  He purchased the property and in July 1906 his architect, Edward P. Casey, filed plans for a “3-story brick and stone dwelling” to cost $50,000.  Brown and Casey would amend those plans to something vastly more impressive.

A member of the ship brokerage firm Vernon C. Brown & Co., Brown had been for many years the governor of the New York Stock Exchange.  His father, Vernon H. Brown, was head of the Cunard Steamship Company.    His wife, the former Grace V. Quartley, was the daughter of renowned marine seascape painter Arthur Quartley.

The choice of Edward Pearce Casey was somewhat surprising.  Unlike society architects like McKim, Mead & White, Delano & Aldrich, or C. P. H. Gilbert; Casey was known for his institutional designs.  In 1892 he took over as architect of the Library of Congress, he had won a prize for his proposal for New York City Hall, and in 1901 he won the competition to design the Ulysses S. Grant Memorial on Washington D.C.’s National Mall.

But perhaps it was best that the Brown’s architect was more familiar with monumental structures than residences.  The house that had started out on paper as a $50,000, three story structure ended up costing $200,000, rising four floors, and stretching back more than 100 feet.

Completed in 1907, the 40-foot wide mansion was a Tudor Revival fantasy—as much castle as home.  Faced in limestone, it relied as much on substance as it did decoration to create an imposing presence.

There were two massive arched entrances in the otherwise stark base—one accessed the mansion, the other disguised the garage.  Stephen H. Brown’s vehicles would pull directly into the residence.   The second and third floors were dominated by vast openings, united by common mullions and blind tracery in the spandrels.  Each was capped by square-headed drip molding; and gracing the façade between them was an enormous carved crest.  A cornice separated the third and fourth floors, above which paired sets of Tudor-arched openings sat below a dramatic crenelated parapet that gave the impression of a battlement.

The house quickly gained the nickname in realty circles “the medieval palace in the heart of New York,” a name it would carry for years to come.  The New-York Tribune said “No Old World palace was torn down to surrender its ceilings or its iron grills, but the architect constructed it in the manner of the Italian Renaissance, and the furniture collected in all the countries where the Renaissance holds sway, carries out the spirit.

“The walls and the arched ceiling of the entrance are of stone.  The arches are so low as to remind one of a crypt, the effect being heightened by a low stone altar at one side, carved in relief and bearing ancient alter candlesticks.  Along the opposite walls is a Roman sarcophagus, flanked by two great wooden candlesticks.”

A curving stone staircase let to the principal rooms on the second floor.  To accommodate the Browns’ substantial staff, of the 16 rooms, eight were for servants.  The Tribune noted “The interior of the building is as warm as the exterior is cold.”

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

The Browns filled the mansion with an impressive collection of medieval furniture, tapestries, and artwork.  Especially noteworthy was Stephen Brown’s collection of antique armor, collected from around the world, which lined the hallways.   The exceptions to the period art were the many paintings by Arthur Quartley that hung on the walls, which had remained in his studio at the time of his death in 1886.

The year 1910 was a socially-important one for the Brown household.  On November 5 the daughter of Stephen’s brother, Vernon, was married in the mansion.  Attending Marie Vernon Brown was Stephen and Grace’s only daughter, Caro.

Only a month later, the entertainments to introduce Caro Quartley Brown to society would begin.  They started on December 9 with an afternoon reception and climaxed on December 28 with a grand masked ball.  The New York Times reported the following morning “The house, one of the largest of the lately erected private residence in town, was decorated throughout with Christmas greens, red flowers and holly.”

Grace Brown received the guests, “who were chiefly the debutantes and young dancing men,” at the top of the stone staircase.  Normally the debutante would greet her guests as well; but Caro “slipped in among the guests unknown after the great part of them had arrived, and her identity was known to but few until the time of unmasking.”

The socially-connected young people—with names like Van Rensselaer, Burrill, Burton, Townsend, and Gould—danced from 11:00 to midnight, at which point they were unmasked, causing “considerable merriment over the revelations doffing the masks made.” 

The Brown garage within the house was apparently no oil-stained, carton- and can-filled space.  The Times reported that following the unmasking “the guests went down to the garage, which is built in at one side of the first floor of the house, for supper.  The garage walls and ceiling were covered with sand studded with bright red Christmas decorations, bells in flowers, and small table were placed here, and also in the dining room.”

On December 29, 1912 the engagement of Caro to Franklin S. Richardson was announced.  The following May the couple was married in the Brown mansion.  Afterward was what The Sun described as “a large reception.”

The Browns enjoy Palm Beach in 1916 -- The Sun, February 6, 1916 (copyright expired)

Stephen and Grace spent that summer in Southampton; but they would never again return to East 70th Street.  They moved into an apartment in the Plaza Hotel, and on October 10, 1913 the New-York Tribune reported that they had leased the house, fully furnished, to “a prominent Englishman” for $15,000 a year.

The Tribune pointed out “Many residents of this city have in the last decade rented famous palaces in England, but this is the first house in New York to be rented by a resident of London.  He will have control of the premises for a number of years, and will occupy the house about three months in each year.”  The newspaper thought it a good match for the Englishman, since “Inside and out it closely resembles an old palace.”

A servant hoses down the sidewalk in front of the house recently leased by Fred Gordon -- New-York Tribune, October 26, 1913 (copyright expired)

The “prominent Englishman” was Frederick W. Gordon.  He leased the house until 1916, when the Browns leased the house to David and Clara Mannes, for their David Mannes Music School.   Before the school opened on October 1, Stephen H. Brown suffered “a general physical breakdown,” as described by The Sun, and was placed in a private hospital.

On the evening of November 17, 1916 the school was the scene of a reception for Dr. Walter Damrosch and his wife, Margaret.  The “Dean of American Conductors,” Damrosch was a composer, conductor and pianist.  He began conducting at the Metropolitan Opera House in 1885 and later became conductor of the New York Symphony Orchestra.  He formed the Damrosch Opera Company to stage Wagner compositions in 1895 and composed four operas.

On July 20, 1917 Stephen Brown died at the age of 53.  In reporting on his death, The Sun could not resist mentioning, “Mr. Brown’s home…which he built about seven years ago, was known in real estate circles as 'the mediaeval palace in the heart of New York.'”

In May 1919 Grace sold the mansion to Maitland Fuller Griggs.   The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide noted “This house…is one of the handsomest in New York City.”

The 47-year old Griggs was a wealthy attorney, educated at Yale and married to the former Carolyle Cowles Lee.  The couple had three children, Dorothy, Maitland and Northam, and maintained a country estate, Barberries, at Ardsley-on-Hudson, New York.

Like the Browns, the Griggs were well-known collectors of art.  Maitland Fuller Griggs served on The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Purchasing and Greek and Roman Art Committees, was a trustee of The Frick Collection, and was a large benefactor of the Yale Gallery for Fine Arts.   Among the artists represented on the walls of 154 East 70^th Street were John Singleton Copley, Lippo Memmi, Maso di Banco, Guido di Pietro and della Robbia.

Daughter Dorothy was back in New York when her parents bought the 70^th Street mansion.  She had begun studies at Bryn Mawr College, but when war broke out she left to serve as a nurse.  The war prevented her from being formally introduced to society, as well.

On September 4, 1920 her engagement to Francis King Murray was announced.  Like Dorothy, he had left Leland Stanford University to serve with the American forces overseas.  In reporting on the engagement, The New York Times added, “Miss Grigg’s mother was the former Carolyle Lee of the family who for several generations had their home at Forty-third Street and Fifth Avenue and also an old homestead in Hartford, Conn.”

The couple was married in Irvington, New York on September 18, after which the reception was held in the Griggs’ Ardsley-on-Hudson home.

The Griggs remained in the house until 1925 when it was sold to Suffragan Bishop Herbert Shipman of the Episcopal Diocese of New York.  Shipman had been bishop for four years, but he was perhaps better known for his military service.

In 1896 the young priest was made U.S. Army war chaplain, a position he held until 1905.  He was the composer of the West Point anthem “The Corps.”  During World War I he was Senior Chaplain of the First Army, serving in France.

Herbert Shipman during WWI -- New-York Tribune, March 17, 1919 (copyright expired)

While the 70^th Street house was being prepared for the Right Rev. Herbert Shipman and his wife, the bishop was sent off to the Catskills.  On December 8, 1925 Mrs. Shipman announced that the evening before, at the Tuxedo Park mansion of her parents, “My husband has suffered a nervous breakdown.  His physicians told him he would either have to take six weeks off now or a year later on.  They don’t want him to have anyone with him or to get any mail.  They say he needs a rest cure.”   The New York Times added that their new house “will be ready for occupancy on the Bishop’s return here.”

Along with the Shipmans in the 70^th Street mansion were the bishop’s in-laws.  Edson Bradley and his wife, Julia Williams Bradley, were well known in society.  In addition to their Tuxedo Park home, they had a mansion in Washington, D. C. and a cottage, Seaview Terrace, in Newport.

Julia Bradley died in their Newport home on August 22, 1929. Seven months later, almost to the day, Bishop Shipman sat down to lunch with his wife and father-in-law, when he suddenly complained of feeling ill.  “He had scarcely finished speaking when he collapsed,” reported The New York Times on March 24, 1930.  When Dr. Samuel B. Moore arrived, he said that the 60-year old had died instantly.

More than 2,000 persons viewed Shipman’s body in St. John’s Cathedral.  His burial at West Point took place on March 26.

It was the end of the line for the Brown mansion as a private residence.  It was purchased by the Gardner School, an exclusive girls’ school.  Following conversion to classrooms by the architectural firm McCrea & Sharpe, the school’s new home was formally opened with a house-warning on September 23, 1932.  The school’s principal, Miss M. Elizabeth Masland, moved into an apartment on the top floor.

A series of schools would move in and out of the 70^th Street mansion.  In 1945 it was acquired by the Jewish Teachers’ Seminary & People’s University.  In 1959 the interiors were altered for the Eron Preparatory School.  By 1980 it was home to the coeducational Lenox School, and in 1993 it was sold to the Manhattan High School for Girls, after sitting vacant for three years.

Although the former garage opening has been transformed to a window, and the fencing of the rooftop playground disturbs the elegance of the crenelated parapet; little else has changed to the exterior of Stephen H. Brown’s remarkable “medieval palace in the heart of New York.”

photographs by the author

The 1904 Engine Co. 30 (Fire Museum) No. 278 Spring St.

photo by Alice Lum

Until 1865 the homes and businesses of New York City were protected by a group of unrelated volunteer fire companies.  But by the time of the Civil War, the sheer amount of structures and residents in the rapidly-growing city demanded an organized, paid fire department.   The Metropolitan Fire Department was formed and the volunteer system abolished.

Among the new fire stations was that of Engine Company 30, located at No. 253 Spring Street.  The company remained here for nearly four decades, conveniently across the street from the headquarters of the Sailors and Firemen’s Union at No. 278.  But in 1902 the need to replace the old structure was evident.  The report of the Superintendent of Buildings Branch for that year noted “The Board of Estimate and Apportionment has been requested to acquiesce in the acquirement, at private sale for the sum of $50,000, of the site Nos. 278-284 Spring street, borough of Manhattan, upon which to erect a new house for Engine Company 30, located, since the inauguration of the paid Fire Department, at No. 253 Spring street, and it is believed that it will do so and that the transaction will soon be consummated.”

Indeed the transaction was consummated and on October 3, 1903 The American Architect and Building News announced that architect Edward P. Casey had filed plans for a “three story brick and stone engine-house” with a projected cost of $75,000.    The New York Times predicted it would “be one of the largest fire engine houses in the city,” covering a frontage of 72.5 feet.

The new house was completed in 1904.  Casey deeply incised the rusticated limestone base,  rounding the edges of the massive stones.  The two-toned brick of the upper two stories was laid in a diamond pattern, creating a tapestry effect inlaid behind the stone window framing.  Above the cornice, the brickwork continued in a handsome balustrade.

Firefighters from Engine Company 30 paid an unintentional visit to a saloon when responding to a false alarm on August 7, 1905.   As the horse-drawn steamer sped into the intersection of Bedford and Barrow Streets, a second engine from Engine Company No. 24 ran full speed into it.  “The impact carried the engines over to the southeast corner, and the horses became wedged in the doorway of a saloon kept by Albert Herdtfelder,” reported The New York Tribune.

Herdtfelder had the bad luck of standing in the doorway at the time and was knocked off his feet, suffering severe injuries.  Although the saloon owner was taken to St. Vincent’s Hospital, none of the fire fighters received any injuries and the horses were only slightly hurt.

Only four days later, however, one of the first tragedies for Engine Company 30 in its new location occurred.  On August 11 the soap factory of W. H. Daggitt’s Sons at Nos 383-385 West 12^th Street caught fire.   The building blazed for 10 hours while chemicals created deadly smoke.     By 1:00 in the afternoon when eight members of the company were working on the first floor, 20 firemen had already been injured, removed unconscious from the blaze.

Hours of pouring water on the building had resulted in seven feet of accumulated water in the cellar.   Fireman James Clancy was working with Captain Martin Mahoney feeding a line of hose into the building.  The men braced themselves against a large safe when, without warning, the floor collapsed.   The eight firemen were plunged into the deep water, “buried under a tangle of beams and flooring,” as described by The Evening World.

The firemen of Hook and Ladder No. 5 formed a human life line, pulling the men out of the cellar one-by-one, when it was realized that Clancy was pinned below the water by the heavy safe.  After repeated tries, a concerted effort of several men dislodged the safe and Clancy was pulled free.

The fireman did not survive.

In 1946 the announcement was made that the fire house would share space with a proposed out-patient clinic for NYFD members and their families, similar to one already in place in the New York Police Department.  On April 3, Fire Commissioner Frank J. Quayle announced that the third floor of the building “will be rearranged so that the equipment, including X-ray machines, a cardiograph, physiotherapy and diathermy devices and a dental office will be set up with soundproof walls and ceilings, casement windows and air conditioning.”

The Fire Department’s Honor Emergency Fund contributed $125,000 for the equipment and Quayle had requested an annual appropriation of $25,000 from the City to cover the salaries of clinic personnel.   The Commissioner anticipated that “in addition to the equipment installed, there will be established a blood-donor station, also oxygen equipment, not only for the relief of members of the Fire Department who suffer from smoke inhalation at fires, but likewise the members of their families who are in need of such treatment.”

The clinic was formally opened on February 3, 1948, replacing the departmental medical offices in the five boroughs.

After half a century of service, the end of the line for Engine Company 30 came on April 6, 1959 when Fire Commissioner Edward F. Cavanagh, Jr. announced steps being taken to save the Department $1.645 million, including the elimination of four companies.   The fire house at No. 278 Spring Street was on the list.

The outpatient clinic with the impressive title Oxygen Therapy Unit Headquarters remained in the building serving the medical needs of the firefighters and their families for decades.   In the meantime the FDNY’s small museum on Long Island was moved to Manhattan in 1959, taking space in a working firehouse at No. 100 Duane Street.

But when the Home Insurance Company donated its wide-ranging collection of firefighting memorabilia to the Department in 1981, a larger, permanent space became necessary.   The Friends of the New York City Fire Department Collection was established—a non-profit organization whose sole purpose was to raise funds to renovate Engine Company 30 as a state-of-the-art museum.

Six years later Edward P. Casey’s Beaux Arts beauty was reborn as the New York City Fire Museum opened its doors to the public.  The museum—which even includes a mock apartment with smoke machine and black-lighted fire hazards for the education of school children—receives 40,000 visitors annually.