The Lost Moses H. Grinnell Mansion (Delmonico's) - 1 East 14th Street

Fifth Avenue (foreground) was paved with stone bricks by the time this photograph was taken.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Following his death on November 24, 1877 The New York Herald opined "There were few men better known to the citizens of New York than Moses H. Grinnell."   Over his long and varied career he had been the president of one bank and director of several others, president of the Chamber of Commerce, a member of Congress, Commissioner of Public Charities and Correction, Collector of the Port of New York, and a Central Park Commissioner.

Grinnell's vast fortune, however, did not come from banking or politics.  He was the senior partner with Robert B. Minturn in the shipping firm of Grinnell, Minturn & Co., formed in 1828.   Henry Collins Brown, Director of the Museum of the City of New York, wrote in the 1924 Fifth Avenue, Old and New, "It is difficult for the present generation to realize the former importance, socially and commercially, of the families engaged in shipping.  Practically all of the great fortunes prior to the Civil War were made in shipping.  Grinnell, Minturn & Co. were the largest."   The firm domineered the industry and at one point owned nearly 50 sailing ships.

Born on March 3, 1803, he could trace his family to the 17th century in America.  The first Grinnells--three brothers--settled in Rhode Island in 1632.  His mother's first American ancestor, John Howland, was a passenger on the Mayflower.

Grinnell's first wife, whom he married in 1826, died young.  In 1836 he married Julia Irving, the niece of Washington Irving.  They had three children.

In 1847 Robert B. Minturn moved his family into a new mansion at No. 60 Fifth Avenue, at the corner of 12th Street.  Three years later Moses Grinnell followed suit, erecting his home two blocks to the north, at No. 1 East 14th Street on the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue.

Completed in 1850, the Ango-Italianate style house was the latest in domestic fashion.  Three stories of red brick trimmed in brownstone sat above a rusticated stone base.  Two sets of tall French doors opened from the parlor onto cast iron balconies above the entrance level.  Barely visible from street level, two dormers punctured the slightly hipped attic roof.

The Grinnells were socially-prominent and Moses was among the founders of the exclusive Union League Club.  The New York Herald later recalled that Moses Grinnell was "the most liberal entertainer, and gathered about his private table the most delightfully pleasing parties, the charmed sovereigns of wealth, intellect and highest social position."  And in his 1913 book Things I Remember Frederick Townsend Martin wrote "I remember seeing the Grinnell mansion at the corner of Fourteenth Street and Fifth Avenue, where Mrs. Grinnell queened it as a great lady of fashion, and where she entertained the late King Edward on his first visit to New York."

Moses H. Grinnell from the collection of the New York Public Library

The quiet intersection where Moses Grinnell had built his mansion epitomized wealth and privilege--so much so that when The New York Times printed an unflattering editorial about Manhattan's millionaires on July 15, 1854 the editor used the location to symbolize lavish lifestyles.

Fifth-avenue and Fourteenth-street might teach [the ancient Romans] much, and astound them by revealing the fact that private individuals could not alone live like Emperors, but that they absolutely maintained their luxury on the same royal principle--namely, that of spending other people's money.

In was an unwarranted swipe at the Grinnells, who not only did not rely on credit, as the editorial suggested, but magnanimously donated to charities.  In January 1858, for instance, Julia was elected a manager of the Woman's Hospital Association.  Thurlow Weed said of Moses, "Unlike many men situated in life as he was, he did not contribute to hospital or asylum funds at stated intervals only, but gave in charity every day.  In fact he was always giving either money or assistance of other kinds to the needy."  After his appointment as Commissioner of Charities and Corrections in 1860, Grinnell initiated many social reforms.

The family's summer home was in Irvington, New York, adjoining Washington Irving's "Sunnyside."  During the summer months the writer and the Grinnell family spent much time together.

On March 20, 1860 The New York Times reprinted a rumor found in the Charleston Courier that said in part "Mr. Grinnell has sold his splendid residence at the corner of Fifth-avenue and Fourteenth-street."  While the rumor at the time was mere speculation, within two years it would become fact.

On April 7, 1862 The Times announced "The Brothers Delmonico are determined, it would seem, to keep pace with the rapid up-town strides of society."  A private opening of the famous restaurant's new location had been held the evening before.  "The establishment (which was formerly the mansion of Mr. Moses H. Grinnell) has been fitted up with faultless taste, and is, without any exception, the handsomest place of the kind in the City."

The article added, "We doubt, indeed, if Europe can boast its equal in quiet elegant and real comfort of decoration."  The main restaurant was on the ground floor, as was "a cafe in the true Parisian style, being fitted up with small marble-top tables and destitute of a bar."

The upper floors had been converted to private dining rooms of various sizes.  The Times noted they were "intended for dinner and supper parties, and all fitted up with lavish luxuriousness, but without the slightest excess that can be called garish or vulgar."

Delmonico's had been around since 1827 and had changed the face of public dining.  Before then New York restaurants had served "tavern food."  Moneyed citizens dined in their homes.  John and Peter Delmonico changed that, serving the cakes, fine wines and ices that affluent New Yorkers had grown to expect in Paris and Vienna.  Two years before moving into the Grinnell mansion, the restaurant inaugurated another feature that would alter fine dining in America.  It imported a Parisian chef, Charles Ranhoffer, the first "gourmet" chef in the country.

Delmonico's was by now the host and caterer to high society.  The Illustrated American said of the new site "Its location and its adaptability to evening business made it at once the most fashionable restaurant of the city."   The success was such that only a few months after renovating the Grinnell house, the owners purchased the mansion next door and combined the two; creating a 100-foot wide establishment.

from Fifth Avenue, Old and New, by Henry Collins Brown (copyright expired)

The Nation described the enlarged accommodations, saying that on the ground floor were now two public dining rooms, each about 20 feet wide and 75 feet long.  "Back of these, also on the ground floor, is the cafe, an enormous room, perhaps thirty-five by an hundred feet.  According to strict etiquette that fare only which is usually supplied by a cafe ought to be served in this room, to wit: coffee, chocolate, and tea; all wines and liquors and drinks of various kinds; bread and butter; raw oysters; boiled eggs, perhaps, or an omelet, if any one wants to spoil his morning's coffee with them; radishes, olives, cheese, and all the hors d'oeuvres; ices."

Smoking, the article noted, was allowed only in the cafe.  Directly above the cafe was the large ballroom.  The Nation pointed out that it served as a ballroom only in winter; "but in summer, when balls are not and when the crowd is great in the evenings of those who seek ices and iced champagne, [it becomes] a dining-room."

So meticulously did Delmonico's follow established European deportment, and so elegant was its French cuisine, that the writer of The Nation article suggested it to young couples unsure of their entertaining skills.  "Married people keeping house, unless they are very highly trained already, should dine at Delmonico's once a month at least, oftener if possible...If they do not learn something, it will be because they cannot learn from experience.  The standard cannot be set too high."

The famous restaurant needed no signage.  Photographer unknown.  From the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

While Manhattan's wealthiest citizens dined in the private dining rooms--some small enough to accommodate just eight patrons--the largest rooms saw lavish banquets.   One of the most opulent was that given by Sir Morton Peto of England on October 30, 1865 in reciprocation for the hospitality he had received in New York.

The Times reported "the sumptuous, richness and elegance of this banquet, we feel free to say, has never been exceeded in this country.  We doubt, indeed, whether so complete, so elaborate, and so delightful a dinner was ever served to a party so large as 250 guests in New-York."  The table service used that night had been especially commissioned by Delmonico's for an earlier visit by the Prince of Wales.  The meal, according to The Illustrated American, cost Petro $250 per person, a total of more than $1 million today.

Charles Dickens was feted here on April 19, 1868; but it was certainly not his first visit.  Decades later, on May 16, 1891, The Illustrated American remembered "Charles Dickens was a frequent visitor to the Fourteenth Street house.  He was a heavy eater and a heavier drinker.  he thought nothing of swallowing the contents of two quart-bottles of champagne at lunch, but brandy was his favorite tipple."

Perhaps the most memorable banquet decorations were those described by Ward McAllister in his Society, and How I Found It.  The banquet hosted by "Mr. Lackmeyer" was "of such beauty and magnificent, that even New Yorkers, accustomed as they were to every species of novel expenditure, were astonished at its lavishness, its luxury."  The 72 guests were seated in the ballroom at an oval table that engulfed nearly the entire room.  In its center was "a lake, and a border around the table for the plates."

The "lake" was 30 feet long and nearly the width of the table, and enclosed by a golden wire fence that reached the ceiling.  Four swans, brought from Prospect Park, swam in the tabletop pond, "surrounded by high banks of flowers."  The floral banks prevented the swans from accidentally splashing the diners.  "Then, all around the inclosure, and in fact above the entire table, hung little golden cages, with fine songsters, who filled the room with their melody."  McAllister placed the price tag of the evening, which he called the "Swan Dinner," at $10,000, or about $175,000 today.

No visiting diplomat, military leader, titan of industry or celebrity in the artistic, musical or literary world left New York City without passing through the doors of Delomino's.  The Illustrated American wrote "Within its walls Seward spoke, Abraham Lincoln threw off his quaint and curiously created jokes, and here General Grant was given a great dinner and reception by A. T. Stewart, Edwards Pierrepont and a number of other well-known citizens."

Henry Collins Brown remarked in Fifth Avenue Old and New, "Its ballrooms and dining rooms were the scenes of countless gatherings of wealth and fashion.  The Assembly Ball was only one of its more special events.  Nightly the building was filled with beautifully dressed women and men of national celebrity.  It was said that no man ever attained eminence in the town who did not later pass through the portals of this world-famous establishment."

But the migration of society moved ever northward and, as was the case in 1862, Delmonico's followed.  On September 13, 1876 the restaurant opened its new home at the corner of Broadway and 26th Street near Madison Square.  In reporting on the move, The New York Times reminisced about the many luminaries who had dined there and the memorable banquets that took place within its walls.

On September 20, 1879 The Real Estate Record & Guide noted "Fourteenth-street, between Union square and Sixth avenue, has so thoroughly become the centre of New York's retail trade...It is no wonder, then, that the Blatchford estate, which owns the property so long occupied by Delmonico's, at the northeast corner of Fourteenth-st. and Fifth avenue, has taken advantage of this excellent site and erected thereon a fine store building."

That store and office building, designed by Edward H. Kendall, survived until 1961.

The corner today.

The Lost 1897 Delmonico's -- Fifth Avenue at 44th Street

photo circa 1898 by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC07UT&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

In 1896 two of Manhattan’s most fashionable eating and catering establishments, Delmonico’s and Sherry’s, were feeling the pinch of competition.  The elegant Waldorf Hotel, opened three years earlier conveniently close to the mansion district on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 33^rd Street, was the newly favored spot for cotillions and dinners.  To make matters worse, the Astoria Hotel (at the time temporarily called the Schermerhorn) was under construction and the combined Waldorf-Astoria would be a formidable threat.

In response both restaurants made plans to move upward along Fifth Avenue—a full ten blocks above the Waldorf.  The rival caterers acquired large plots diagonally across from one another on Fifth Avenue and 44^th Street.  On May 3, 1896 The New York Times recognized the intended moves as part of a trend.

“As significant moves as have been made in recent years are those on the part of the restaurant men, Delmonico and Sherry, who have secured corners on Fifth Avenue at Forty-fourth Street for their future places of business.  They are trying to follow the northward movement of what may be termed the night life of the city—the life of after the opera and the theatres.  Both, too, apparently feel the need of providing for their patrons more elegant and sumptuous surroundings, so as to meet the competition of the Waldorf and the new Schermerhorn Hotel now constructing.  Another purpose is probably to be nearer the homes of those to whom they cater.  The two establishments right at the edge of the new club centre will help to change the character of the neighborhood most thoroughly.”

Over a year later, on March 17, 1897, architect James Brown Lord filed plans for the new Delmonico’s.  Lord had recently completed the monumental Beaux Arts-style Appellate Court building and he was riding a wave of favorable press.  The plans called for an eight-story structure of brick, Indiana limestone and terra cotta that stretched 140 feet back along 44^th Street.

“The entire front on Fifth Avenue will, on the ground floor, be devoted to the dining room,” advised The New York Times.  “Above will be the ballroom.  In the rear of the dining room will be the palm garden, encased by glass partition walls, and back of this, separated only by glass, is the café proper, with a separate entrance on Forty-fourth Street.  The main entrance is also on the side street, where there is a private entrance to let into an elevator to the ball and assembly rooms, which may be cut off from the rest of the house.”

Six floors of the building were devoted to the restaurant.  The top two floors were income-producing bachelor apartments.  Above it all was a roof garden (so popular in days before air conditioning) that would be enclosed by a vault of glass 30 feet high in the winter.

The roof garden was covered during the cold months -- photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

The land on which the new building would rise was leased to Delmonico by the Havemeyer family.  As the building neared completion in 1897, family patriarch Theodore Havemeyer died; throwing into question whether the family would be present at the restaurant’s opening.  The New York Times mentioned on October 31, 1897 “Mr. and Mrs. Havemeyer are in mourning, but their appearance at the public christening of the really beautiful building which that clever young architect, Mr. James Brown Lord, has given New York in the new Delmonico’s, and in which the late head of the Havemeyer house, Mr. Theodore Havemeyer, was so peculiarly interested, would certainly be pardonable and would seem most fitting.”

The New-York Tribune published a sketch of the new building (copyright expired)

The Astoria Hotel and the new Delmonico’s were neck-and-neck as the finishing touches were completed and openings planned.  But, although the Astoria beat Delmonico’s by about ten days; the elaborate interiors previewed by reporters promised stiff competition.  The New York Times said “It is too early for any predictions to be made as to the probably effect upon New York society life of the opening of the new Astoria.  Delmonico’s new building, which is now understood will be quietly opened at Fifth Avenue and Forty-fourth Street on or about Nov. 10, without any flourish of trumpets, may compete in the matter of drawing fashionable patronage with the Waldorf-Astoria more than is at present expected, and with music and the permitting of smoking in the palm garden at the dinner hour the new establishment may prove so attractive as to win back the favor which Delmonico’s once held in New York society.”

The kitchen staff (above) and the wait staff posted in 1902 -- photograph by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

The “informal opening” was held on November 15.  Nearly 1,000 guests strolled through the various period rooms.  On the ground floor the ladies’ restaurant was paneled in oak and “upholstered in green” and was deemed by a newspaper as “a dainty room.”  Also on this floor were the palm garden and the Elizabethan-style café.

The cafe was done in the "Elizabethan" style -- photograph by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

On the second floor were the private dining rooms “artistically decorated in quiet effects,” according to The New York Times.   The Louis XVI ballroom engulfed the eastern half of the third floor and was “lighted by electroliers, screened by a mass of small glass beads.”  The woodwork in the 71 by 60 foot room--designed to accommodate 600 persons--was stained green and the walls were covered with rose-colored silk.  On the Fifth Avenue side of this level was the “supper room.”

The kitchens, larders, refrigerating rooms, butcher shop and other culinary departments were housed in the two floors below street level.

Below street level workers in the confectionery department (above) fashion compotes from spun sugar.  An army of chefs prepare gourmet foods.  photograph by Byron Company from the Collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

The New-York Tribune said “The new building, which stands at Fifth-ave. and Forty-fourth-st., beautiful and impressive in its architectural outlines and furnished within on a lavish and costly scale, is a monument to the wise and successful business management which has directed the affairs of this famous eating institution.”

On reporting on the opening of the new building, which it deemed “a good example of the Italian Renaissance,” The New York Times opined “The opening of the new house marks another epoch in the social history of New York.”  The newspaper was correct.

The ornate banquet room featured two lofts for musicians -- photograph by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

A week later the first ball was given in the sumptuous new ballroom.  A subscription dance, the first of four, it was under the patronage of six prominent socialites who dared not to engage the ballroom of Caroline Astor’s new hotel.  If there was a question of Delmonico’s holding its own against the mammoth Waldorf-Astoria, the November 25^th ball set the matter to rest.

A full orchestra played following the 11:30 supper and a reporter commented that “The dance was most successful, and instead of the 150 guests expected, 190 were present.”

Across the street to the south were the butcher shop and tavern, the presence of which on 5th Avenue mightily annoyed several New York socialites -- photograph by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894&PN=1#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894&PN=1

On December 9 Mayor Strong held a dinner here to discuss “the funeral of Old New York.”  With the merging of Brooklyn, Manhattan and the Bronx scheduled to go into effect on January 1, 1898; he sent invitations to about 100 prominent citizens, neatly engraved on official stationery, to lay plans for a memorial service to be held in the Metropolitan Opera House.

Reflecting the morose attitude of Manhattan residents concerning the consolidation, he planned a “solemn service.”  “In the language of the Mayor,” said The New York Times, “it will be ‘the funeral’ of the old city, whose life is then to be terminated, not as a result of the ravages of old age, but by legislative enactment.”

Stenciled, beamed ceilings adorn one of the private dining rooms -- photograph by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894&PN=1#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894&PN=1

A year later, on Christmas Eve 1898, the New-York Tribune considered Delmonico’s move uptown.  “Time has demonstrated, however, that the step was a wise one.  Society folk took kindly to the change of site, and with the new building offering exceptional and unusual attractions for dinners, both big and little, it became almost immediately a fad.”

Earlier that year wealthy debutante Josephine W. Drexel had proven that when she raised social eyebrows by throwing herself a lavish ball here.  Five hundred invitations were sent for the affair which was held on February 8, 1898; despite Josephine’s formal coming-out in December hosted by her mother.

“The ball was rather unique among the social events of this city,” said The New York Times, "as it was given by a debutante of the season, and not, as usual, by her mother or other relative, in her honor.  Miss Drexel, who conducted the management of the affair herself, was formally introduced to society at a large reception given for her at her mother’s home some weeks ago.”

Josephine booked the 20-piece Lander’s Orchestra and invited the cream of New York and Philadelphia society—“chosen almost entirely from the younger set.”  The cotillion began directly after the 12:30 a.m. nine-course dinner.  The guest list read like the Social Register, including “Mr. and Mrs. James Abercrombie Burden, Sr., Mrs. William Astor, Mr. and Mrs. John Jacob Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Marshall Orme Wilson, Mr. and Mrs. De Lancey Nicoll, Mr. and Mrs. Philip Livingston; who danced among Dahlgrens, Beekmans, Mortons, Kernochans and Schieffelins.

Meanwhile, the Church Temperance Society parked its coffee van outside in the freezing February night air to offer comfort to the rows of coachmen sitting in the vehicles of their wealthy employers.

The bachelor apartments on the upper floors were reserved for only the most fashionable young unmarried men.  Among its first residents was the 34-year old widower Thomas Henry French.  A dramatic agent and publisher of plays, he took a suite of rooms.  Although the often-elitist Manhattan society normally looked askance at theater types; French was a member of the New York Yacht Club, the Manhattan Club, the New York Club and the Lambs.  He had managed Madison Square Garden upon its opening and later built the Grand Opera House and the Broadway and American Theatres.  The representative of the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, London; he also managed the Lillian Russell Opera Company.

In November 1902, after living here two decades, French became ill.  At 7:35 p.m. on December 1 he died in his bedroom crowded with his business manager of 30 years, his secretary, Dr. J. H. Emerson, personal friends, and the entire staff of his publishing office.

Wealthy diners were frightened just before midnight on August 2, 1903 when the cry of “Fire!” was heard in the corridor.  A small electrical blaze had burned for about 20 minutes in the basement engine room before being noticed and by now the faint smell of burning wood was reaching the dining rooms.

“There were 150 men and women in the large dining room on the first floor, and in the café were a number of men,” reported The New York Times.  The guests rushed to the doors; “Many of them did not go through the formality of getting their hats, coats or wraps.”

Although the fire was small, at the height of the confusion it crippled the electrical system, plunging the building into darkness.  The tony patrons filed across the avenue to Sherry’s for shelter while the fire department responded.

When the fire was extinguished, some of the customers returned for their belongings and more than 30 waiters scurried about to light candles which they carried in the silver candlesticks of the dining room.

Apparently unperturbed by the excitement, some of the patrons went back to their plates.  “By the light of these [candles], the guests who had returned, sat down and finished their dinners,” said the newspaper.

In 1908 the restaurant was incorporated for the first time since its establishment in 1827 by brothers John and Peter Delmonico.  Now sisters Josephine and Jeanne Delmonico ran the business.  Three years later, as the lease on the Havemeyer land neared expiration, rumors spread that Delmonico’s would move once again.

On August 5, 1911 The New York Times noted “Delmonico’s has always moved with society as is evinced by the fact that the great-grandmothers of the present social leaders dined at the restaurant in Beaver Street.”  However the newspaper put to rest any thoughts that the grand Fifth Avenue building would be abandoned.  “But the uptown march of the famous restaurant has been retarded now for at least sixteen years,” it said, and reported that a new lease had been signed.

Earlier that summer, as Manhattan’s millionaires abandoned the city for Newport, Bar Harbor and Long Island, management began redecorating the interiors.  Patrons returning for the Winter Season of 1911 would find refurbished dining rooms and new culinary offerings.  Managing Director Taupier had spent the summer in Europe “looking up novelties for the coming season of banqueting.”

Tragedy visited Delmonico’s during the parade for the 165^th Infantry returning from action in Europe on Monday, April 28, 1919.  Bartender Robert Provenzano went to a fifth story window to watch the parade high above the throng that crowded Fifth Avenue.  Several bystanders in the crowd looked up to see Provenzano leaning far out of the window, then losing his grip and falling.  Shouts of warning went out to those directly below.

Among the parade-watchers was 65-year old Grace Laflin Whitehead of Chicago who was accompanied by her daughter and a friend.  “Mrs. Whitehead either was too intent upon the marching columns to heed the cries or did not suspect their portent.  Provenzano’s body came down squarely upon her.  An ambulance surgeon declared she had been killed outright,” reported the New-York Tribune the following day.

The bartender suffered internal injuries, a fractured skull and broken legs; which proved fatal as well.

It was not the uptown movement of society nor the aging structure that tolled the death knell for Delmonico’s—it was Prohibition.  As with so many other hotels and restaurants, the loss of income once provided by the sale of wine and liquor was debilitating.  More than once the classy restaurant was raided by Dry Agents in the first years of the 1920s.  Finally, on May 20, 1923, nearly a century after its founding, Delmonico’s announced that it would close.  The New York Times ran a sub-headline that read “Famous Fifth Av. Restaurant Succumbs to Prohibition.”

“At Delmonico’s last night,” the newspaper reported, “it was said that the lease, which was to run until July, 1927, had been canceled by agreement.  The Harriman National Bank, it was said, now located on the opposite corner of Fifth Avenue and Forty-fourth Street, plans to erect a bank and office building on the site of the famous restaurant.”

The New York Times was acerbic in its assigning blame.  Two weeks later it wrote “Prohibition, however, was the finish of the venerable establishment.  The typical Delmonico frequenter regarded dinner as a rite and the drinking of choice wines and liqueurs  as a semi-public ceremony.  The old guard at Delmonico’s was composed of wine connoisseurs.  To those who went there it meant something to have a dusty, cobwebbed bottle of Pontet Canet or Chateau Yquem brought on in a little straw basket with its neck tilted at just the right angle and the contents exactly at the temperature of the cellar.  The Delmonico patron beamed when he saw a champagne cooler visibly alongside.  Delmonico belonged to the days when sauterne or chablis stood guard over the oysters; when ruddy wine came with the redhead duck; and champagne was due with the dessert, and port and cordials or fifty-year-old brandies were borne in with the coffee pot.”

On May 21, 1923 Delmonico’s served dinner guests for the last time.  At 9:00 that evening the orchestra struck up “Auld Lang Syne” and the doorman was told to close the doors and admit no one else.  One exception was made.

John Lynn had been a patron of the restaurant for decades, since it was located at Fifth Avenue and 26^th Street.  The 73-year old was determined to be there for the last night and so he laid down in the afternoon for a long nap in his apartment in the Hotel Ritz-Carlton.  He overslept.

When the elderly gentleman knocked on the doors of Delmonico’s he was let in.  Newspapers reported that “there were a few moist eyes among the diners,” many of whom were prominent in New York society.  Talk centered around the long history of the restaurant, which over the decades in several locations had served Louis Napoleon, later Emperor of France; Abraham Lincoln, Charles Dickens, Whitier, Longfellow, William Cullen Bryant and Ralph Waldo Emerson.  Political and military figures included Ulysses S. Grant, General Winfield Scott, William Seward and Andrew Johnson. 

When the lights were turned out that night, it would seem to have been the last entertainment held in Delmonico’s.  But there was one more in the future.

When the above photograph was taken in 1924, the end of the line for Delmonico's was near-- photograph by Wurts Brothers, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWC0C0C&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

In the summer of 1925, as the building was reduced to a pile of bricks and dust, a workman found a rare bottle of wine in a subterranean vault that had been a cellar.  The “honest workman,” as described by The New York Times, turned over the dusty relic.

On August 19 a nostalgic group of stalwart men dressed in dinner clothes gathered in the ruins to consume one last meal at Delmonico’s—including the vintage wine recovered from the cellar.  “While bricks and lumber crashed within a few feet of them, fifty men sat down to luncheon yesterday in the ruins of Delmonico’s, at Fifth Avenue and Forty-fourth Street, the last meal under the arrangement of a family which has catered to New York palates for 100 years,” reported The New York Times.

Among the diners was E. H. Nies, who had started out as a boy in one of the downtown Delmonico restaurants and had risen to assistant manager by the time of its closing.  For the occasion he had written a poem, the first verse of which read:

No more the grape with fire divine

Shall light the torch of pleasure gay,

And where the gourmand paused to dine

Hot dog and fudge shops have their day

Despite the demolition going on around the table, the luncheon was served with all the propriety and embellishments of the restaurant’s glory days.  “The tables were ornamented with candy made in the shape of flowers, the fruit was served in dishes made of ice with ferns frozen in them, there were plates of dainty sweetmeats, and the soup and chicken and ice cream and coffee were worthy of the name of Delmonico,” said The New York Times.

When the last sip of champagne was gone the 50 gentlemen left the ruins of Delmonico’s.  The “social epoch in the history of New York” that began with the opening of the restaurant’s doors 28 years earlier was over.

photo by Alice Lum

Delmonico's -- 56 Beaver Street

Photo museumplanet.com

When John and Peter Delmonico opened their first restaurant in New York City in 1827, they were knocking on a well-bolted door.  At a time when wealthy Americans dined and entertained in the privacy of their own opulent dining rooms, public restaurants offered common fare to the working class.  The Delmonico brothers intended to change that.

Opening their café at 23 William Street, instead of tavern food, they served the cakes, fine wines and ices that affluent New Yorkers had grown to expect in Paris and Vienna.  Four years later, the brothers expanded next door, opening a full restaurant that served fine French and Italian cuisine.  Increasingly, New York’s gentry patronized the restaurant.

When the building was destroyed in the infamous Fire of 1835 that ravaged most of the Wall Street area, the Delmonico brothers purchased the triangular lot at Beaver and South William Streets.  Backed by eight years of success, they erected a stylish four-story structure.  Here the name Delmonico’s became synonymous with upper class dining.  It was the place for dignitaries–such as the visiting Prince Louis Napoleon--and the wealthy to be seen.  Four columns, reportedly from the doorway of a Pompeian villa, flanked the marble entrance portico.

The New York Sun later recalled that Delmonico’s had provided a places, “not merely to dine at, but to talk about, to take foreigners to, places to be proud of, which make the city attractive the world over.”  From its kitchens the renowned chef Charles Ranhofer created culinary delicacies such as Lobster Newberg, Delmonico Steak, Eggs Benedict and Baked Alaska.  The menu offered 47 veal dishes, 12 types of boiled beef, and 50 fish dishes.

By 1890, Delmonico’s was the premier eatery in the nation and the Delmonico family had opened no fewer than six other Delmonico’s throughout the city.  More space was necessary in the old Beaver Street location.  Charles Delmonico, grand nephew of the founders, razed their building and commissioned James Brown Lord to design a new, more impressive structure.

Delmonico's in 1895 -- "King's Photographic Views of New York"

The New York Herald reported on the cornerstone laying, which Charles (known as “Charlie”) personally performed.  

It was a copper box about ten inches square, and contained, among other records, a history of the Delmonico firms since 1835, some old copper cents found under the portico of the building which has been torn down, the silver and copper coins of 1890, a copy of the Herald of December 22, 1889, containing a description and an illustration of the new building…specimens of the ‘shin-plaster’ currency issued by the Delmonico house during the war, and a copy of the menu of the Beaver street house, February 24, 1890, the day the restaurant was closed to the public.

The article explained that, while Charlie Delmonico had wished to put the box in the corner stone at the South William Street side, the builder David King refused.  “The coins found in Solomon’s temple were found under the northeast corner,” argued King.  Not wanting to tempt fate nor bad luck, Delmonico placed the box in the northeast corner.

Lord, who had designed only residential buildings to date, produced an eight-story Renaissance Revival style restaurant and office building that brought him immediate professional recognition.  The New York Times described it as, “admirable in its simplicity and elegance.”

Lord emphasized the dramatic rounded corner, making it the focal point of the structure.  He fashioned a rich entrance from a salvaged cornice from the former building, as well as two of the Pompeian columns (touching the columns became a tradition of good luck for knowing patrons).  Brick, stone, terra cotta panels and copper were combined to create a visually stunning edifice on an odd slice of land.

Following Charles Delmonico’s death in 1901, the management of the restaurant changed hands within the family twice until, in the 1910s, family squabbles over expenses and profitability began straining relations.  In 1917, family members agreed to sell the building.  The American Merchant Marine Insurance Company purchased it for $500,000 and, shortly thereafter, the restaurant ceased operation.

The grand dining areas on the first and second floors, once the place of debutante dinners and society wedding breakfasts, was cut up into office space.  Oaken desks and filing cabinets now sat where Andrew Carnegie and Diamond Jim Brady once dined on oysters and brokered deals.  Delmonico’s became “The Merchant Marine House,” home to shipping businesses and related insurance companies.  Three years later, the building was sold again--for a profitable $1,250,000--to the Insurance Company of North America.

With the closing of Delmonico’s, downtown was without a fine restaurant for almost two decades.  George S. Chappell grieved in his New York restaurant guide in 1925 that, “the lower city knows no such excellence now except in some of its princely luncheon clubs.”

Oscar Tucci intended to change that.  Taking advantage of the culinary void and the well-recognized and respected name, he opened Oscar’s Old Delmonico Restaurant in the lower and first floors.  Tucci ran his restaurant as an embodiment of the former restaurant.  It was a success.

In 1935, he expanded to the second floor and into the first floor of 48-54 Beaver Street next door (both buildings were owned by the City Bank Farmers Trust Company by now).  Later, the reincarnation was complete when Tucci changed the name to Delmonico’s Restaurant.

The combined buildings were sold to 56 Beaver-Wall Street Inc. in 1985 (ten years before achieving landmark status), the original windows were replaced and other slight modifications were made.

photo via delmonicosny.com

Time Equities, Inc. purchased the building in foreclosure in November 1995 and within a year had converted the upper floors into 40 residential units.  Today, Delmonico’s is back in business on the lower floors as The Original Delmonico’s Steakhouse Restaurant, serving many of the dishes that made the restaurant famous.

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