St. Ignatius of Antioch Episcopal Church - 552 West End Avenue

image via nyc.art.org

 

The Episcopal Parish of St. Ignatius of Antioch had worshiped in the former Dutch Reformed Church at 54-56 West 40th Street since just after its founding in 1871.  As the turn of the century approached, its site across from Bryant Park was increasingly commercial, and on March 9, 1901 the Real Estate Record & Guide reported, "St. Ignatius, Protestant Episcopal Church, Rev. Arthur Ritchie, pastor...is the buyer of the plot, 75x100, at the southeast corner of West End av. and 87th st....A new church will be erected on the site, for which Charles C. Haight...is the architect."

The choice of the site was surprising to many, since the proposed structure would snuggle up against St. Paul's Methodist Church, erected four years earlier.  The New-York Tribune remarked on November 11, 1901, "When St. Ignatius's Episcopal Church is completed...the West End-ave. block between Eighty-sixth and Eighty-seventh sts. will present a unique appearance.  It will be wholly covered by two churches, both of them as distinct in architecture as are to be found in America."

Indeed, Robert H. Robertson's St. Paul's was an architectural novelty, the New-York Tribune calling it "a radical departure in ecclesiastic building."  Haight's St. Ignatius, in the English Pependicular Gothic style, would be much different, yet would "present an appearance quite as unusual as its near neighbor,"  according to the journalist.  The architect deftly handled the potentially blocky mass of the structure with two-story gables and immense Gothic openings.  The New-York Tribune noted, "Most of the memorials of the old church in West Fortieth-st. will adorn the interior."

Haight's office released a rendering of the proposed interior in the fall of 1901.  New-York Tribune, November 11, 1901 (copyright expired)

Haight filed plans on August 2, 1901.  The cost of construction for the church and parish house was estimated at $80,000--just over $2.5 million in today's money.  Much of that amount was offset by the parish's sale of the West 40th Street property to the Republican Club three months earlier.

As was common, as construction continued on the building, services were initially held in the only completed section--the basement.  On January 11, 1902 The Evening Post remarked, "St. Ignatius Episcopal Church has begun services in the basement of its new church edifice...The church itself will be ready for occupancy at Advent, 1902."

The first services in the completed sanctuary were held on October 19, 1902.  The New-York Tribune described the granite-clad exterior as "severely plain."  The interior was finished in light colored Roman brick and trimmed in stone.  "The chancel is beautifully furnished," said the article, "and is divided from the nave by an elaborate rood beam.  The building is cruciform, but with a short chancel and shallow transepts."  

A postcard from around 1905 revealed a quiet residential setting.

The sale of the old building did not completely pay for the new structure and its furnishings.  It would be several years before the finishing touches were completed inside.  Female church members routinely helped fundraising efforts with what were known as fairs.

On February 2, 1903 the New-York Tribune reported, "Things dainty and serviceable, necessary and beautiful to look upon--all sorts of things, in fact, from the most delicate handmade lingerie to the simple cap and apron of the made of all work--are daily on view (and on sale) in the guild room of the new St. Ignatius Protestant Episcopal Church...The members of the guild are working very hard to complete some details of church furnishing, which the new edifice still needs and their efforts have made a visit to the guild room well worth while."

Father Arthur Ritchie had been rector since 1884.  When well-to-do parishioners died, they often left bequests to their churches or, in some instances, to their parish priests.  And when the widow Charlotte M. Hoyt died in December 1902, she left a surprising legacy to Father Ritchie.  Mrs. Hoyt was what might be deemed a "cat lady" today.

On January 16, 1903, The Sun reported, "By the will, Mr. Ritchie is to receive $5 a week as compensation for caring for the collection of cats that Mrs. Hoyt left, providing of course that he cares for the cats."  (The compensation would equal about $150 per week today.)  Ritchie's Christian compassion did not extend to a brood of felines, however.  His response was quick and decisive.  "I think I would make myself ridiculous taking charge of a lot of cats, and I don't propose to do it.  If the cats are sent to me I will turn them over to the animal society."

Little by little the interior took shape.  Charles Frederick Zabriskie, the senior warden, had long been one of the parish's most generous supporters.  He had donated a marble statue of of the Blessed Virgin to the old structure in memory of his father, which now stood at the left of the altar in the new church.  In 1904 he donated a second marble statue, this one of St. Ignatius, to stand on the right side.

A notable step towards completion came the following year.  On October 7, 1905 The Evening Post reported, "One of the largest chancel windows ever placed in a New York church has just been set in St. Ignatius Episcopal Church, West End Avenue and Eighty-seventh Street.  The window covers more than two hundred square feet.  Another window, in process of making, is soon to be set in the south transept of the church."  The vast window had been executed by John Hardman & Co. of Birmingham, England.

The stained glass had been only recently installed when Wurts Bros. took this photograph around 1905.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

James Remington Fairlamb had been organist and choir master of St. Ignatius Church since 1901.  Known internationally as an organist and composer, he had also served as the United States Consul at Zurich.  Born in 1838, Fairlamb had studied music in Europe, and had been decorated by the King of Wurtemberg with a "Great gold medal of art and science."

Assisting Fairlamb was organist Charles Baier, who lived in Jersey City, New Jersey.  Parishioners were no doubt concerned when he left his home on Monday, January 7, 1907 and did not return.  Friends and family were only partially relieved when he walked back in the door four days later.  The Sun reported, "He had suffered from mental trouble as the result of worry over the thought that his sister would be obliged to undergo an operation."  The family refused to give a statement "as to Mr. Baier's wanderings," but did say the organist "is now under the care of a physician."

As Arthur Ritchie's 25th anniversary of service to St. Ignatius Church neared in 1909, the New York Herald reported, "nearly a week's celebration is planned."  Normally on such an occasion, the priest would receive a large cash gift from the congregation.  Ritchie, however, declined the gesture before it could be made.  The New York Herald said on April 17, "he suggested that the money be used toward the mortgage," and noted, "It is expected that $25,000 will be given."  The rector had generously declined the equivalent of around a third of a million in today's dollars.

Reverend Arthur Ritchie image via anglicanhistory.org

Ritchie stepped down as rector on May 1, 1913 due to ill health.  He became chaplain of the Bell Home in Nyack, New York, a complex where "folks who had little of this world's goods" could find retreat.  He died there on July 9, 1921 at the age of 72 and his funeral was held in St. Ignatius Church on July 13.

Perhaps the public's first hint of the congregation's artistic interests came in the 1920's.  On June 4, 1927 The Billboard announced, "The group of young people at St. Ignatius Church known as the St. Ignatius Players, gave a group of playlets at the Parish Hall, 552 West End avenue, New York City on the evening of Tuesday May 31."  The article said, "There was music between the acts, and afterward the audience held an old-fashioned strawberry festival, for which certain conservatives of the parish have been clamoring for years."

The tradition of art continued.  On March 15, 1976 organist Frederick O. Grimes and harpsichordist Harold Chaney gave a recital, for instance.  On November 19, 1982, The New York Times reported that "the Wond'rous Machine" would be singing that weekend, and in October 1986 the newspaper reported, "The Stellar Consort plans a performance of madrigals, lute songs and instrumental works" here.

St. Ignatius Church was, of course, the venue of socially important weddings and funerals over the decades.  One of the most notable ceremonies, however, was the funeral of Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Murray Kempton on May 8, 1997.  A regular worshiper at St. Ignatius, if he happened to miss a Sunday service, according to warden Antonio Ramirez, "he'd tool around on his bicycle midweek to drop his offering in the mail slot."

Kempton was famous, having worked for Newsday for 15 years and The New York Post for years before that.  More than 400 people crushed into the church for his funeral.  But Kempton had seen to it that there would be no great platitudes.  Clyde Haberman of The New York Times wrote, "Mr. Kempton wrote unshakable instructions on how his funeral should proceed.  There were to be no eulogies, he decreed.  No coffin on display.  No trawling through his decades as a newspaper columnist and conscience of American journalism.  No observations about how we shall never see the likes of him again, a point that had been obvious anyway for a good five decades." 

Instead the funeral followed the ritual of the Church of England's 1559 version of the Book of Common Prayer.  Haberman wrote, "Yesterday, every nook and cranny of the church was filled, some by crooks and nannies."  At the end of the service the church bell tolled 79 times, once for every year of Kempton's life.  Father Hitchcock said the gesture was "outside the realm of the instructions," but he hoped Kempton would not have minded too much.

photo by Jim Henderson

Charles Coolidge Haight's dignified St. Ignatius of Antioch Church continues to be an odd bedfellow with its block-mate to the south, struggling hard to earn the attention it deserves, hogged by the exotic structure next door.

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Charles C. Haight's 1878 275 Canal Street

On October 19, 1870 millionaire Henry E. Pellew purchased the empty "gore lot" at No. 275 Canal Street from Jonathan Edwards.  It would be eight years before he developed the plot, hiring the 37-year old architect Charles Coolidge Haight to design a loft and store building in 1878.  

Pellew was a highly respected and influential businessman.  On February 12, as Haight was working on the plans for his new building, Pellew was a pallbearer at the funeral of Theodore Roosevelt, Sr., the father of the future President of the United States.

Completed within the year, No. 275 Canal Street exhibited strong elements of the Romanesque Revival style to which Haight repeatedly returned over the next decades.  It was most evident in the arched openings of the fourth and fifth floors.  The Queen Anne style made its appearance in dog tooth brickwork panels between the second and third floors and the fanciful pierced cornice designs flanked by stone gablets.

Stone capitals adorn the pilasters and clustered columns of the fourth and fifth floors.  The stone eyebrows of the fourth floor are mimicked in black brick at the fifth.  The Queen Anne style cornice is extraordinary.

The building became home to Eastman, Bigelow & Dayton, "silk and fancy drygoods" merchants.   The firm had begun as Eastman, Sheldon & Townsend in 1845; but after Sheldon was lost at sea on a return voyage from Europe in 1855, the Alden B. Bigelow and Milton P. Dayton joined Albert L. Eastman to form the new organization.

The New-York Sketch Book and Merchant's Guide noted that the firm's "chief feature" was ladies' dress trimmings.  "Their assortment of these goods is always large, and of the newest styles" it said, adding "Their stock also comprises a complete assortment of Taffetas and Satin Ribbons, Bonnet Ribbons, Kid Gloves, Embroideries, &c., &c."

The firm had been in its new home only about a year when valuable silk velvet ribbon disappeared.  The stolen goods were valued at more than $700--or about $18,500 in today's money.  A break in the case came around October 15, 1879 when a customer informed the firm that "quantities of black ribbon, known as 'the Black Friar' brand in the original packages as imported, and bearing the trade-mark of the firm, were being offered for sale at a much lower rate," according to The New York Times.

The ribbon was tracked down to the shop of merchant tailor I. M. Witkoski. and an elaborate plot was discovered.  The goods were initially stolen by a janitor, who sold them to a mattress maker, John Gurney.  Gurney then resold the goods to Benjamin M. Wilkoski, the brother of the the shop's owner.

In court Wilkoski freely admitted he had purchased the ribbon and was reselling it; but said he had no way of knowing the goods were stolen.  He testified that "he had taken them from a man for whom he had made several suits of clothes, in payment for the clothing."  Judge Gildersleeve was unmoved and on November 17 sentenced the tailor to three years in State Prison.

The 1890's saw Casse, Lackey & Co., makers of window shades (renamed Pinney, Casse & Lackey in 1892); the Leopold Ascher Co., makers of paint and shaving brushes; and William Harvey, manufacturers of canes and umbrella handles, in the building.

The Beta Theta Pi magazine, October 1893 (copyright expired)

William Harvey's factory employed 8 men, 18 women, 14 girls under 21 years old and 4 girls under 16 in 1893.  They worked long hours--59 hours during the week and 9 on Saturday.  The firm reorganized around 1898 when it became the Harvey & Watts Co.

In June 1899 Henry Pellew commissioned architects Horenburger & Straub to make structural improvements to No. 275, including new iron girders.

Of the 31 employees in Leopold Ascher's brush factory in 1902, only five were men.  One of them was John Barkey, who lived in Brooklyn and walked to and from work over the Brooklyn Bridge.  Barkey was one of thousands of workers who used the pedestrian crossing, creating what was known as the "Brooklyn Bridge crush" at rush hours.

On the evening of October 21, 1902 Barkey became caught up in what the New York Press described as a "fighting, impatient crowd."  As a streetcar passed, Barkey was forced against it by the mass of pedestrians.  The article explained that "as the car was in motion he could stay on his feet no longer and fell under the car.  As soon as he came in contact with a wheel that tore off his toes, he dragged himself under the feet of the passing throng."

Barkey screamed in pain until Patrolman J. Flood "rescued the man from under the heels of the crowd."  He was taken to the Hudson Street Hospital where his toes were amputated.

In 1902 Pinney, Casse & Lackey Company merged with the Columbia Shade Cloth Company, located next door at No. 273 Canal Street.  The Charles E. Matthews office furniture company took its place in No. 275.

Batten's Wedge magazine, February 1906 (copyright expired)

Charles E. Matthews remained in the space at least through 1913.  The 1920's saw the Reliance Lighting Fixture Corp., manufacturers of electric light fixtures under the brand name Relifco; and the Allied Fruit & Extract Co., makers of food items like maraschino cherries, in the building.

Sixty-three years after their father had purchased the property Marion and Charles E. Pellew sold No. 275 Canal Street to the Myr-Mil Holding Company in November 1933.  The new owners made alterations which did away with factory space.  Completed in 1935, the changes resulted in a store and showroom on the ground floor and additional showrooms on the upper floors.

Among the tenants in the 1940's was the Royal Sundries Corp., which sold novelties like the Marvo Cigarette Roller.  An advertisement in The Billboard on October 6, 1945 touted its "metal sides" and offered the item "in quantities" for 5 cents each.

In 1961 a drug store operated from the ground floor.  On February 20 that year the Long Island Star-Journal entitled a front page article "3-Alarmer Snarls Traffic" and reported "The fire which broke out shortly after 5 A. M. in a five-story commercial building at 275 Canal street soon raged through three floors of the structure."

While damaging the interior, the blaze left Charles C. Haight's striking facade intact.  The building was renovated again in 2020 to create office space above the ground floor store.

photographs by the author

The New York Cancer Hospital - Central Park West and 106th Street

photo by Sarah Javier

At the same time that Charlotte Augusta Astor, wife of John Jacob Astor III, was actively supporting cancer research and the care of victims of the then-incurable disease, Elizabeth Hamilton Cullum, the wife of Major-General George Washington Cullum, conceived of a hospital dedicated solely to the treatment of cancer.  

In 1882 John Jacob Astor offered to erect a pavilion for the treatment of cancer patients at the Women's Hospital.  Astor's generous offer was refused, so he turned to Elizabeth Cullum's idea of a New York Cancer Hospital and in 1884 the project got off the ground.  On May 17 The Record & Guide announced "The Cancer Hospital has taken title to the property on Eighth avenue [later Central Park West], recently purchased from Mr. Cohnfeld."  That property, engulfing the blockfront from 105th to 106th Street, came at a price of $80,000--about $2.15 million today.

Architect Charles Coolidge Haight filed plans in September.  Construction costs were projected at the equivalent of just over $5 million today.  Physicians provided him with guidelines on the most up-to-minute theories on hospital design.

Elizabeth Cullum would not live to see her vision completed.  On September 15, the same month that the plans were filed, she died.  When the details of her estate were released The Syracuse Standard reported on November 20 "The late Mrs. Elizabeth H. Cullum's will provides that her whole estate in New York city shall go to the New York Cancer Hospital."  Her West Coast property went to her husband.

On August 15, 1885 as the hospital rose the Record & Guide commented "This is of considerably more interest than all the buildings we have been talking about put together.  The novelty of the design, the group of round towers that give the building its resemblance to a sixteenth century French chateau, is an outgrown of the plan, since in the diseases to the treatment of which this hospital is devoted it is especially desirable to avoid corners which prevent the thorough cleaning of rooms."  The physicians who had consulted with Haight had urged that corners, where germs may accumulate and grow, be avoided.

Before the main building was completed Haight was called back to design a four-story "laundry and dormitory building" and a one-story "boiler-house."  The Record & Guide noted on January 2, 1886 "The laundry will contain accommodations for persons employed in that department."

The formal opening of the first facility dedicated to the treatment of cancer in the United States (there was only one other in the world, that one in London) was held on December 6, 1887.  The Evening World noted that "The building and grounds cost $350,000."  Of that amount Astor had contributed $200,000 (more than $5.5 million in today's money).  In announcing the ceremonies, The Evening Telegram said "Unfortunately Mrs. Astor is too ill to be present."  Ironically, she died of cancer six days later.

Even at the opening ceremonies there was talk of expansion.  The Sun reported that John E. Parsons, president of the board of trustees, said that "the present building is for women only, and the next to be built will be for men.  A chapel will also be built.

Charles C. Haight had created an architectural tour de force.  The Record & Guide said "The design belongs to the best period of French renaissance, such as greet the eye in the valley of the Loire distinguished by soft graceful lines, full of repose and calm beauty, and tourelles appropriate to the gentle undulations of the landscape."

The ground floor held the office of the superintendent, reception rooms, staff offices and a temporary chapel.  The Medical Record reported "The main staircase is of bronze, with stone steps."  The second and third floors contained wards and private rooms.  Each ward, located in the rounded towers, held eleven patients.  Private rooms contained one or two beds.  Haight put the operating theater and kitchen on the top floor--the first because of the better light, and the kitchen to keep the cooking smells and smoke away from the patients.  

The Architectural Record, July 1899 (copyright expired)

Ventilation in the wards was of utmost importance. “It has been found that the air of each ward can be changed completely with closed doors and windows every five minutes, and that, too, without producing annoying and dangerous draughts,” said The Times.  Openings in the brick walls between the windows brought fresh air into the rooms. The “vitiated air” was sucked out through an iron column in the center of each ward by a fan in the cellar.

Natural light flooded into the operating theaters on the top floor.  from the archives of Memorial Sloane Kettering

John Jacob Astor continued to give generously to the institution.  Two years after the opening, on January 5, 1889, the Record & Guide reported that Charles C. Haight was again working on drawings, this time for an addition "which is to be known as the 'Astor Pavilion,' and also for a memorial chapel."  The cost would be paid "from a fund devoted to the purpose by Mr. Astor."

Haight's chapel (center) and men's pavilion were designed seamlessly.  photo by Jim Henderson

Astor had provided another $145,000 for a men's pavilion.  The New-York Daily Tribune reminded readers "At present the hospital receives only women, having accommodations for seventy."  The new wing would double that capacity with these beds for men.

On May 2, 1890 The Otsego Farmer detailed the works of the facility.  "The New York cancer hospital, as well known as the 'Astor hospital,' because of the liberal foundations given it by that family, counts among its patrons the very elect of New York's best families...The number of patients treated in 1889 was 273; and an average of 40 days was devoted to each patient."  Of those 106 cases were "cured," 71 "improved," 82 unimproved, 42 died and 18 were still undergoing treatment.

Patients paid $7 to $20 week while they were hospitalized--the most expensive equaling about $580 today.  The article pointed out that "This is remitted where the patient is unable to pay."

The men's pavilion was completed first.  The Chapel of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, named as a memorial to Elizabeth Hamilton Cullum, was dedicated on November 27, 1892.  The Sun reported "The prevailing tone of decoration is gold bronze, which contrasts admirably with the oaken work and the stone."

The chapel and men's pavilion were added to the southern end of the original building.  King's Handbook of New York City, 1893 (copyright expired)

In May 1899 the New York legislature changed the name of the institution to General Memorial Hospital for Treatment of Cancer and Allied Diseases.  The name change most likely had to do with the broadened case load.  Two months later the Architectural Record noted that it "was projected as a cancer hospital, though it is now used only in part, if at all, for that purpose."

A horrifying accident occurred here early in 1903.  Madeline Calder was being prepared for an operation by nurse Helen Smith who rubbed her body with a mixture of alcohol and ether.  The Evening World reported "The nurse, it is alleged, disobeyed one of the rules of the hospital in using a lighted candle, instead of performing her duties by the aid of the electric light."

The candle sat within a small glass and, rather foolishly, Helen placed it on the bed as she worked.  "It upset and set fire to the bedclothes.  Mrs. Calder endeavored to throw herself out of the blazing bed, but it was too late, and she died a short time afterwards, after suffering excruciating agony."  Madeline's husband, John H. Calder, sued General Memorial Hospital for the equivalent of $3 million in today's dollars.

Despite the incident, the General Memorial Hospital continued to treat some of the wealthiest and most prominent New Yorkers.  Among them were August Belmont, who received an appendicitis operation in February 1909; Herbert L. Satterlee, son-in-law of J. Pierpont Morgan in 1912; and Mrs. August Belmont (who, like her husband, also had an appendicitis operation) in 1915. 

A view from 106th Street taken around 1930 shows the still-pristine courtyard.  from the archives of Memorial Sloan Kettering.

The hospital underwent two name changes before moving out of the old building permanently in 1955 as Memorial Sloan Kettering Hospital.  Shortly thereafter Bernard Bergman purchased the structure, converting it to Towers Nursing Home. Bergman managed the home with scandalous disregard for the patients or their conditions. Residents complained of no heat, vermin infestations, neglect, filth and odors, and physical abuse.

The wards, created with no corners to preclude the accumulation of dirt, were soiled and sickening. Prompted by numerous grievances, state and federal authorities initiated an investigation. Towers Nursing Home was closed in 1974. Only when the New York Landmarks Preservation Commission gave the building landmark status was demolition prevented.

Haight’s remarkable French Renaissance chateau sat empty and neglected for twenty-six years. Vandals broke in.  Rain poured through the windows and roof.  It became Central Park West’s version of a haunted house.  Ailanthus trees grew from the turrets

In 2001 Chicago developers MCL Companies purchased the structure.  Architects Rothzeid Kaiserman Thomson & Bee had been working on various proposals for the renovation of 455 Central Park West for almost 20 years.  Now the two firms began working together to bring the building back to life.

The extent of the decay was far worse than almost anyone had imagined.  The interior was essentially gutted.  Everything other than the exterior walls had to be replaced.  Using historic photographs, Rothzeid Kaiserman Thomson & Bee removed mid-20th century additions, replicated details that could not be saved, and used salvaged elements to restore the main structure.

Charles Haight's "gold bronze" decorations were resurfaced as the chapel transformed to residences.  photo via RKTB Architects

In 2004 the renovated building was complete.  The historic hospital consists, now, of luxury apartments–even in the neo-Gothic style chapel–connected to a 22-story tower.  The renovation earned no fewer than six awards from preservation and engineering organizations. 

The Thomas E. Stillman Mansion - 9 East 78th Street

photo by Chauncey Primm

Thing were going very well for Brooklyn attorney Thomas E. Stillman at the turn of the last century.  Born in Manhattan in 1837, he was one of five sons of Alfred Stillman.  Now the head of the law firm Stillman & Hubbard with offices at 40 Wall Street, the 1906 Memorial Cyclopedia of the Twentieth Century would call him "one of the best known and most successful lawyers of the city."  He and his wife, the former Charlotte Elizabeth Greenman (she went by her middle name), had four daughters, twins Jessie and Helen Elizabeth, Mary Emma, and Charlotte Rogers.

The Stillmans maintained country homes in Tuxedo, New York and New London, Connecticut.  With Thomas now essentially retired in 1899, he and Elizabeth laid plans to move from Brooklyn to Manhattan.  That February Stillman purchased the 35-foot wide plot at No. 9 East 78th Street, just east of Fifth Avenue, from Stanley Mortimer.   He paid a significant $81,667 for the undeveloped lot--more than $2.5 million today.

The Stillmans commissioned architect Charles Coolidge Haight to design the residence.  His choice of the neo-Renaissance style, a favorite of Upper West Side architect Clarence True, was unusual on the east side of Central Park.  

When Haight's office released this rendering in 1899, the house was under construction.  Because both flanking lots were empty, draftsmen filled in the blanks with imaginary homes.  Architectural Record, February 1899 (copyright expired)

Completed in late in 1900, the dignified Indiana limestone mansion rose four floors over an American basement. The entrance portico, supported by paired stone Ionic columns formed a balcony at the second floor. Competing with the portico for prominence was a two-story three-sided bay capped with another carved balcony at the fourth floor.  The fifth floor took the form of a dormered mansard mostly hidden behind a stone parapet.

The interiors reflected the Stillmans’ wealth and sophistication.  The Italian Renaissance reception hall was paneled in elaborately carved Santo Domingo mahogany. Fluted columns with bronze capitals graced the entrance of the main hall, which was covered in red velvet to set off a costly collection of paintings.

A mahogany staircase with a solid bronze balustrade wound up the four floors. Red velvet within by antique metal borders graced the walls of the library.  The woodwork here was of imported Circassian walnut.

Fronting 78th Street was the French salon, decorated in the Louis XVI style. The walls were covered with a greenish-blue damask woven in Italy for the room.  A paonazza marble mantel was complimented by satinwood woodwork.  

The Louis XVI Salon -- The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, September 5, 1906 (copyright expired)

Connected to the salon was the music room in the newly-popular Colonial Revival style.  Here mullioned windows looked out to the inner court.  Rosewood pillars inlaid with brass led back to the main hall and a wide passageway led to the dining room–also Colonial Revival--with antique quartered oak and a beamed ceiling.

Only months after the family moved in tragedy struck.  Elizabeth Stillman died in her bedroom of pneumonia on February 20, 1901 at the age of 57.  

Living on in the house with their father were the still-unmarried Charlotte and Mary.  Both women were active in philanthropic and social causes.  They were, for instance, highly involved in the White Rose Mission, a "Christian, nonsectarian Home for Colored Girls and Women."  It had been formed in 1897 by Victoria Earle Matthews, a social reformer and former slave.  On April 13, 1902 the New-York Daily Tribune reported "Mrs. William J. Schieffelin, Mrs. Henry Howland, Miss Grace Dodge and Miss Stillman have arranged for a drawing room talk earlier in the day [of April 22] at the house of Thomas E. Stillman, No. 9 East Seventy-eighth-st., for the benefit of the White Rose Mission."

Newspapers followed the movements of Stillman and his daughters as they sailed to Europe or to their country homes.  On February 28, 1904, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported "Thomas E. Stillman, Miss Mary Stillman, Miss Charlotte Stillman...were at Tuxedo last week."

Stone carvers created intricate Renaissance panels.  photo by Alice Lum

That would be among the last of Mary's trips with her father and sister.  Her engagement to Edward S. Harkness, son of Standard Oil mogul Stephen Harkness, had been announced.  The groom was 30-years-old and Mary was about six months younger.  

Perhaps because of their ages, or because of the couple's disdain for ostentation, theirs would be a "home wedding" in the Stillman mansion.  The New-York Tribune reported on November 6, 1904 "Only relatives and close friends have been invited, but a few extra cards have been sent out for the reception which follows."

The wedding took place on November 15.  Among the "close friends" attending were the John D. Rockefellers and the John D. Rockefeller, Jr.'s, the extended Sloane families, Augustus D. Juilliard and his wife, the Henry M. Flaglers, and William J. Schieffelin and his wife.  

Charlotte was her sister's maid of honor.  The Sun reported that the ceremony took place "amid floral decorations which were profuse and beautiful...in a drawing room hung in reseda brocade and finished in carved satin wood, resting on Italian marble."

An awning had been erected from the entrance to the curb under which a "soft carpet" was laid for the arriving guests. Policemen and detectives were posted to prevent “curious loiterers” and other detectives were inside to watch over the wedding presents of gold, silver and jewelry that were displayed on six large tables.

As Mary was in her bedroom dressing, a horse-drawn cart driven by an elderly black woman, accompanied by a small boy, pulled up at the awning.  Police rushed in to move the woman along.  Ignoring them, the she handed the reins to the boy and instructed him to move the cart down the block.  The woman marched up to the front door where a liveried servant attempted to stop her with no more success than the police had had.

Thomas Stillman came to see what the commotion was, only to recognize a former servant, “Aunt Celia,” who had helped rear the children back in Brooklyn.  When she approached old age, Stillman had bought her a farm in New Jersey and built her a comfortable house.  The old woman had no intentions of missing the wedding and had brought along two presents: a home-grown pumpkin, which she claimed was the largest in New Jersey, and a barrel of red apples.

Like a cherished, long-lost member of the family, Aunt Celia was ushered upstairs to Mary’s room where she watched the bride dress in her white chiffon gown.  She then followed closely along as the wealthy socialites filed into the drawing room for the ceremony, where she wept “after the fashion of old people on joyous marriage occasions,” according to The New York Times.

After the wedding, the aged black woman noticed that a place of honor had been made on one of the gift tables for her offerings.  Items like silver candelabra and gold spoons had been moved aside for the great orange pumpkin and the red apples.  The New York Times reported that “not a guest passed out of the house without taking a last look into this most picturesque array of wedding gifts that ever decorated a fashionable New Yorker’s home.”

Charlotte and her father continued their social routine, sometimes joined by one or more of the married sisters.  On February 12, 1905, for instance the New-York Tribune noted that "Thomas E. Stillman and his daughters, Mrs. William Ambrose Taylor [Jessie] and Miss Charlotte R. Stillman, were also passengers on the Deutschland.  They will join Mr. and Mrs. Edward S. Harkness in March.  The Stillmans will spend the summer at their New-London place."

The following summer Thomas and Charlotte were in Europe.  They completed what The Times called "an extensive automobile tour of Switzerland and Italy, before returning to Paris.  On July 19, 1906 the newspaper reported, "Thomas E. Stillman, the well-known New York lawyer, accompanied by his daughter, Charlotte; his granddaughter Elizabeth, and a party of friends...started from Paris at 10 o'clock yesterday for Lisieux in an automobile driven by an Italian chauffeur named Carsughie."

The group had gone 200 miles when they stopped for lunch.  Shortly afterward, a horrific incident occurred.  According to the chauffeur, he was suddenly "overcome by an attack of vertigo and was temporarily blinded."   The New York Times said "The automobile rushed forward unguided" at a high rate of speed, before smashing into a heavy miller's wagon.  In the car was Charlotte; the attorney’s granddaughter, Elizabeth; Andrew Carnegie’s niece; and other friends.

The car, which flipped over, was demolished and Stillman was thrown into the road. He never recovered from his injuries, dying in a French hospital two months later.  A little over two weeks afterward the funeral was held in drawing room of No. 9 East 78th Street.  On September 26 The New York Times remarked "Many well-known lawyers and business men of the city attended the services."

Still unmarried, Charlotte remained in the house.  She continued to occupy the Tuxedo and New London homes; but often traveled with the Harknesses, as well.  They were frequent guests at Charlotte's homes, and she at theirs.

Charlotte was at the Connecticut estate in 1908 when she fell seriously ill.  On June 22 the New-York Tribune reported "Mrs. William Armstrong is in New London, where she has been called by the illness of her sister, Miss Charlotte Stillman, who has typhoid fever."  Two months later, on August 27, the newspaper noted "Mr. and Mrs. Edward S. Harkness have returned to New London, Conn., from Lenox, where they have been with Mrs. Harkness's sister, Miss Charlotte Stillman, who is recovering from a long and serious sickness."

It was no doubt her medical condition which prompted Charlotte to take an apartment at the Devon on West 55th Street for the following winter season.  That she would not return to the East 78th Street mansion seemed evident when the house house was leased to the multi-millionaire Stephen C. Clark "for a term of years" in December 1910.

Following the expiration of Clark's lease, the house was rented to William T. Hyde who, as reported in the Real Estate Record & Guide "recently sold his expensive residence at 11 East 70th st., just east of the new H. C. Frick residence."  Living in the Stillman mansion was an expensive prospect.  Rent on the 10-year lease was $10,000 per year; or about $260,000 today.

As it turned out Hyde stayed only about five years.  In 1919 the Stillman estate sold the house to Edward Daniels Faulkner, wealthy owner of the upholstery firm of Johnson & Faulkner.  Before he and his wife, the former Marianne Gaillard, moved in, the French jeweler Pierre Cartier leased the house for the winter season.

Edward and Marianne had married in 1885.  Their summer home, Pinecroft, was at Woodstock, Vermont.  Like Edward and Mary Harkness, the couple enjoyed using their massive wealth for the benefit of others rather than for show.

Edward Daniels died in September 1926, leaving an estate of more than $6 million.  The Sun called his will "one of the most unusual" on record."  He divided the ownership of his firm--valued at about $2 million--among his employees, "who served me long and faithfully."

Marianne received $3 million outright (more than $42 million today), and another $1 million was set aside "for the establishment of a fund for the study, treatment, alleviation and cure of arthritis, to be known as 'The Faulkner Fund for the Cure of Arthritis.'"

The widowed Marianne spent less time in Manhattan, preferring Pinecroft.  She not only established the Edward D. Faulkner Clinic, but the Faulkner Trust to aid Woodstock residents in need, the Woodstock Recreation Center, and funded the Faulkner House at Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital in Hanover, New Hampshire.  An endowment to the Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center is still active.

In 1946, after Marianne sold the 78th Street house, it was converted to three apartments per floor.  The mansard was remodeled as a rather featureless blank-faced penthouse level.  That level contained three apartments as well.

The following September the showrooms of V'Soske, Inc. opened here.   The decorator shop featured the hand-woven carpeting of designer Stanislav V'Soske.

Perhaps the most celebrated of the tenants of No. 9 East 78th Street over then next decades was noted sculptor Elizabeth Richard.  Her apartment and studio were here in 1953 when she became engaged to Franz Matsch, Austrian Consul General.

The exterior appearance of the original four floors of the Stillman house is remarkably unchanged. Despite the architecturally regrettable penthouse, the residence retains its architectural dignity.