Showing posts with label east 36th street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label east 36th street. Show all posts

Friday, November 29, 2024

The 1864 Isaac L. Devoe House - 134 East 36th Street



Developers George J. Hamilton and Thomas Kilpatrick began construction of a trio of stylish, brownstone fronted houses at 130-134 East 36th Street in 1863.  Just 17.2-feet wide, 134 East 36th Street had the advantage of a corner site, giving it three exposures of light and ventilation.  The home's cutting edge Second Empire style included the nearly obligatory slate-shingled mansard.  The molded, architrave surrounds of the windows sat on bracketed sills.

Completed in 1864, the house was purchased as an investment by wealthy merchant Robert W. Milbank.  He leased the house until 1867 when it was purchased by Isaac L. Devoe.   

Born in Westchester, New York in 1813, Devoe was the principal of the glass firm Isaac L. Devoe & Co. at White and Centre Streets.  He married Mary Ann Harsen in 1841.  The couple had three sons, born every two years like clockwork--Henry I., born in 1842; Theodore, born in 1844; and Frank who arrived in 1846.  

The Financial Panic of 1873 was a devastating economic catastrophe--called the Great Depression by some until 1929.  It would last until 1879 and may have been the reason that Devoe drastically changed his business--from glass to wool.  For whatever reason, the switch was unsuccessful.  On September 1, 1878, The New York Times reported that Devoe had filed a voluntary petition for bankruptcy.  Reporting that his liabilities were $25,000 (about $788,000 in 2024), the article said, "He has no assets."

Isaac and Mary Devoe lost their home to foreclosure.  It was acquired by Dr. Edwin M. Kellogg and his second wife, the former Frances (known as Fanny) Anne Bowen.  

Dr. Kellogg was born in Reading, Pennsylvania on September 20, 1826.  He married Louise H. Chur on April 16, 1867.  His bride died 11 months later at the age of 27.  He and Fanny were married on October 11, 1869.  

Kellogg served on the staff of the New York Homoeopathic Medical College as Professor of the Diseases of Women.  He was also the treasurer of the American Institute of Homoeopathy.  Fanny kept busy with charitable organizations.  She was, for instance, secretary of the St. Barnabas Employment Society, which found work for destitute women.  

In 1886, Kellogg hired the esteemed mansion architect C. P. H. Gilbert to design a replacement townhouse on the site of 134 and 132 East 36th Street.  For whatever reason, the plans were scrapped and the Kelloggs, instead, moved out and leased the two houses to well-to-do tenants.  Occupying 134 East 36th Street were Henry D. Steers, president of the Eleventh Bank, and his family, here in the 1890s; and Francis G. Gorham, an agent of the Bethlehem Iron Co., who lived here in 1900.  Gorham's social position was evidenced in his memberships to the Union League and Harvard Clubs, the Down Town Association and the New England Society.

Frances Bowen Kellogg died at the age of 64 on June 5, 1900.  Her death greatly affected Dr. Kellogg and in June 1905 Dr. Thomas Franklin Smith remarked, "Since the death of his wife...he has kept very much to himself; for the last two or three years he has kept himself confined to the house to a considerable extent."  Smith's remarks were made at Kellogg's memorial service.  He died on June 29, 1905.

Two years earlier, in February 1903, Kellogg had sold 132 and 134 East 36th Street to attorney Arthur Hoffman Van Brunt and his wife, the former Ethel Townsend Edson.  The Record & Guide reported, "The properties will be remodelled  [sic] into American basement dwellings."  The term meant that the stoops would be removed and the entrances lowered to the former basement level.  In 1905, Van Bruner enlarged 134 East 36th Street with a two-story, three-sided bay at the rear.

Born in 1865, Van Brunt's choice of a law career came naturally.  His father, Charles H. Van Brunt, was presiding justice of the Appellate Division of the First Department.  Arthur graduated from Columbia in 1886 and became a partner in the law firm of Joline, Larkin & Rathbone.  

The year they purchased 134 East 36th Street, the Van Brunt's first child, Caroline, was born.  There would be three more: Edson, born in 1906; Arthur, Jr., in 1910; and David Chesterman, who arrived in 1917.

It may have been the growing population of the narrow house that prompted the Van Brunts to move out.  In March 1916, they leased 134 East 36th Street to the family of Willis and Caroline Charlotte Benner.

The Benners would have to find another home the following year.  In 1917, 134 East 36th Street was converted to offices of the Electro-Medical Scientists, headed by Dr. Francis R. Ward.  On May 20, 1917, the Brooklyn Standard Union reported the offices, "comprise the entire building at 134 East 36th street, corner of Lexington avenue."  As a sort of grand opening discount, the article said, "Consultation, advice and examination, including where required, the X-ray, chemical Analysis and Blood Pressure Test for one dollar."  The offer was good for ten days.

The facility offered what were deemed electric cures.  "Here the fact is proved that science has so modified and tamed electricity that the weakest child or invalid can stand its force without fear or pain," said the article.   "At the offices of the Electro-Medical Scientists the current that lights the homes and runs street cars is used and is harnessed to the wonderful machines by which every jar and jerk is removed and it is then sent through the body as softly, smoothly, and pleasantly as a ray of sunshine."

Ward had started his clinic in Chicago, but relocated to New York after "his advertised claims were attacked by the newspapers," according to the New York Evening World on April 20, 1919.  (In fact, newspapers there flatly called him "a quack.")  When asked by a New York Evening World reporter why he was not a member of the Academy of Medicine, Dr. Ward replied, "they won't let me."

Nevertheless, he and his clinic were doing quite well.  The article said, "He treated last year an average of 125 patients daily at $2.40 a treatment, giving him a gross income of $300 a day, or about $9,000 a month."  The gross monthly figure would translate to about $159,000 in 2024.  The Electro-Medical Scientists remained in the house until 1921.  That year Van Brunt leased it to Isabel Smith and Eldred Johnstone, who presumably rented rooms.

The stoop and entrance were originally identical to those at 132 East 36th Street, seen here in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Van Brunts sold 134 East 36th Street to architect William A. Delano of Delano & Aldrich in 1924.  He converted the house to studio apartments.  Among his tenants were Dr. St. Clair Smith, here around 1927, and operatic soprano Wilma Miller in the 1930s.  Miller played the role of Gilda in Verdi's Rigoletto at the Hippodrome on October 26, 1934.

Delano lost the building in foreclosure in 1941.  It continued to house studio apartments until a renovation completed in 2018 returned it to a single family home.


photographs by the author

Saturday, June 29, 2024

H. I. Feldman's 1949 36 East 36th Street

 


In 1948, real estate developer Joseph Perlbinder demolished a row of mansions at 28 through 36 East 36th Street as the site of a modern apartment building.  Completed in 1949, architect Hyman Isaac Feldman (who went professionally by his first initials) designed the 11-floor-and-penthouse structure in the late Art Moderne style.  Its entrance, capped with a wavecrest entablature, sat within the limestone base that stair-stepped from one to two floors, then to four at the center.  At the topmost floors, setbacks allowed for railed terraces.

Corner-wrapping casement windows had been in vogue for a generation; but at 36 East 36th Street, Feldman's were different.  He rounded the corners of the recessed sections, then used long, thin panes that allowed the windows to follow to gentle shape.

The cover of the 1949 real estate brochure pictured the building.  from the collection of the Avery Library of Columbia University.

Despite the relatively small size of the apartments (most had just one bedroom), the residents were well-heeled.  Among the first were Julia Green Sturges and her daughter Cary.  Julia, who was the daughter of Thomas Dunbar Green, president of the American Hotel Association, was divorced from Perry MacKay Sturges, who lived in Princeton, New Jersey.  Cary's marriage to Alan Lincoln Burns, Jr. in St. James Protestant Episcopal Church on June 17, 1950, was highly covered in the society pages.

Two months later, The East Hampton Star reported on the "very interesting house" designed by A. M. Shoemaker that residents William C. Eberle and his wife Cora were constructing in East Hampton.  Saying "Mr. and Mrs. Eberle will use the house as a summer home," the article mentioned, "Mr. Eberle is a prominent engineer who has been sent by President Truman as an adviser to various parts of the United States and South America."  Eberle was a partner in the fuel consulting firm Eberle & Leyford, Inc.

In 1949, Meyer Lansky and his second wife, Thelma Schwartz, moved in.  Perhaps because of his shady occupation (he was known as the "Mob's Accountant"), Lansky did not stay long at one address.  Since signing a lease at 411 West End Avenue in 1941, he had lived at 211 Central Park West and 40 Central Park South.  The Government, however, managed to keep up with his movements.  A year after moving in, he was subpoenaed to testify before Congress's Hearings to Investigate Organized Crime. 

The committee was not successful in obtaining much information from Lansky.  He was asked, for instance, by Senator Estes Kefauver, "May I ask you, did you bring all these books and records we asked for?"

Lansky answered, "No."

When asked why he had not complied, Lansky replied, "I decline [to answer], on the ground that it may tend to incriminate me."

Asked, "What is your business," he answered, "I declined to answer on the ground that it may tend to incriminate me."

And so it went.

Lansky would eventually die of lung cancer in Miami Beach in January 1983.


In 1951, Russian-born author Ayn Rand and her husband, actor and painter Charles "Frank" O'Connor, moved in.  The couple had met on the set of the 1927 silent film The King Of Kings and were married in 1929.

They had been living on a ranch in California. In her Ayn Rand and the World She Made, Anne C. Heller writes, "On October 24, they took occupancy of apartment 5-A.  Their furniture had preceded them by a day, but the apartment was small, and much had been left behind."  Heller describes it as:

...not only relatively small but also plain.  First-time visitors, expecting Roarkian grandeur along the lines of the Neutra house, were surprised by its modesty.  An entrance foyer doubled as the dining room, with a black-lacquered table, designed by O'Connor, pushed against a mirrored wall.  Formal dinners were eaten there; otherwise, the table served as a work surface for a series of manuscript typists.  A small kitchen opened off the foyer.  The living room was small, with windows on the far wall, and was decorated by Frank with mid-century modern chairs and a black tweed sofa, glass-topped tables, and green-blue pillows and knickknacks strewn around.  There was one bedroom and a tiny study facing an air shaft, from whose single window she could see the Empire State Building, if she leaned out and peered west.

Writer and editor Evan Welling Thomas 2d and his wife Anne lived here at the time.  Born in 1920, Thomas was the son of former Presidential candidate Norman Thomas.  Evan's war memoir, Ambulance in Africa was published in 1945, the same year he joined Harper & Brothers as an editor.  

In his book, Controversy and Other Essays in Journalism 1950-1975, author William Manchester talks of meeting with Thomas here while writing his 1967 Death of a President--the book about the five day period before and after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.  Manchester said, "it was then that I began to understand the depth of his feeling on this issue."

Among the other notable books Thomas would edit were Thirteen Days: A Memoir of the Cuban Missile Crisis by Robert F. Kennedy, and Eleanor and Franklin by Joseph P. Lash.

Charles Kurzon lived here by the early 1960s.  He was president of Charles Kurzon, Inc., which dealt in architectural and finishing hardware.  Kurzon hardware was used in important Manhattan structures like the Time & Life Building, the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, and the New York Coliseum.

An interesting figure residing here at the time was Nathaline Frackman.  A 1925 graduate of Columbia University, The New York Times said she "devoted her career to arranging social and business parties."  Using the pseudonym Nata Lee, she wrote The Complete Book of Entertaining, Nata Lee's Guide for Every Hostess.  She died in her apartment at the age of 74 on January 27, 1977.

The Art Moderne wavecrest patten above the entrance can be glimpsed behind the awning.

Other than replacement windows, H. I. Feldman's late Art Moderne design, which borders on mid-Century Modern, is little changed.

many thanks to reader Lowell Cochrane for suggesting this post
photographs by the author
no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

Thursday, January 23, 2020

The 1906 Morgan Library - 33 East 36th Street



photo by Beyond My Ken

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries it was not uncommon for millionaire collectors to have art galleries included in the plans for their mansions; or to built opulent gallery buildings adjoining already standing residences.  In 1903 financier J. Pierpont Morgan, Sr. took the concept to a new level.

Morgan and his family lived in the brownstone mansion on the northeast corner of Madison Avenue and 36th Street, built for John Jay Phelps in 1853.  Behind it, at No. 33 East 36th Street, was the former home of William Bird.  On February 1, 1902 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that Morgan had purchased and demolished that home and hired McKim, Mead & White to design a "two story marble library."  Charles Follen McKim was the principal architect of the structure, the cost of which was estimated at $300,000--about $8.83 million in today's dollars.

As the project got off the ground, Morgan expanded his holdings around his mansion.  Within a month of the death of Mrs. William E. Dodge in March 1903 he purchased her house, No. 225 Madison Avenue, directly next door to his.  And in November 1904 he purchased the Anson Phelps Stokes house on the northern corner of the block as a gift to his son, J. P. Morgan, Jr. and his wife.  Mrs. Stokes had an asking price of $1 million on that property.


A nicely dressed man surveys the construction site from atop a rock.  The backs of the Morgan mansion (left), the Dodge house (center) and the Phelps residence can be seen.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Construction on the library and gallery was not completed until June 1906.  The the design the Morgan Library was an amalgamation of bits and pieces of Italian Renaissance structures--sort of an architectural Lego project in marble with stunning results.  McKim's inspiration for the entrance, for instance, came from both the 16th century Villa Medici and the Villa Giulia.


The Villa Medici, built around 1544 for Cardinal Ricci via minorsights.com
The top level of the Nymphaeum of the Villa Giulia, designed by Bartolomeo Ammannati for Pope Julius III was a model for the entrance.  photo by Mongolo1984

McKim's biographer, Alfred Hoyt Granger later said "Mr. Morgan gave Mr. McKim a free hand to do anything he liked, which shows what the great financier's opinion was of the great architect."  The lavish budget was reflected inside.  The entrance Rotunda was based on the Villa Madama in Rome.  Artist Harry Siddons Mowbray based his designs on those of Raphael and Pinturiccio.  The complex marble floor was a near copy of one found in the Villa Pia in the Vatican gardens.


The sumptuous ceiling of the Morgan Rotunda -- photograph by Purpleturtle52-KH
The through the doorway of the Rotunda can be seen Morgan's library.  Two of the four marble pillars can be seen, each costing $60,000 at the time, according to a contemporary report.  photo via the Morgan Library & Museum
The largest of the spaces was the library--built to house Morgan's astonishing collection of rare books.  The inlaid Circassian walnut bookcases, the study ceiling and a few doors were the only wooden elements in the building--a reflection of Morgan's intense fear of fire.  

The bronze grills of the bookcase doors matched the exquisite bronze fencing outside.  A construction worker confided to a reporter from the New-York Tribune, "Every one of those bars in the fence was twisted by hand.  That costs money, but Mr. Morgan wanted it made by hand.  I know it cost a good deal, because the bronze doors, with twisted bars, which he had made for the bookcases cost $550 a pair, and one of the panels of that fence would make three pairs of those doors."

Mowbray was also responsible for the decoration of the ceiling, inspired by that of the 16th century Church of Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome.  Among the decorations were constellations significant to Morgan--the signs of Aries (Morgan's birth sign) and Gemini (that of his wife, Frances Louisa), for instance.


Above the mantelpiece, designed in the Renaissance style, is the 16th century tapestry The Triumph of Avarice.  photograph by Pingthing
Leading off the library was J. P. Morgan's office, or "study."  It was here that he conducted much of his business away from his Wall Street office.  Unlike the library mantelpiece which was fabricated for that space, this one was a 15th century antique.  The leaded windows were brought from Switzerland and date from the 15th through 17th centuries.  Most impressive, perhaps, is the ceiling which was imported from Florence.


from the collection of the Library of Congress
photo via the Morgan Library & Museum
The Record & Guide was impressed, saying "the Library Building for J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., in design and construction, marks an era in the Renaissance of classic work."  Alfred Hoyt Granger said "In this building restraint and discrimination are carried to the nth power." 

Morgan's concern about fire went well beyond the use of fireproof materials.  As the structure neared completion in June 1906 a reporter who stopped by the site was told:

The building is entirely fireproof.  The walls are about four feet thick.  There is a heavy wall of Tennessee marble, and then a space of fourteen inches between it and the interior brick wall.  Inside is a vault of 1-1/2 inch steel, in which to keep the most valuable of the old manuscripts, some of those Mr. Morgan picked up in monasteries, etc...There is a sliding shutter of asbestos to cover each window.  The shutters are hung on counterbalancing weights, so that one man could raise them all in a few moments.  They slide down into grooves in the wall.

Fire understandably continued to prey on the mind of Morgan.  His collection of artwork and manuscripts was irreplaceable.   Within a year of the library's completion, he announced he would be demolishing the Dodge mansion which, he felt, sat too close to the library behind.  The Record & Guide explained "Mr. Morgan evidently realizes the danger to these treasures that might arise from a burnable structure adjoining the museum.  His idea is to secure an open space all around it, by removing the Dodge mansion, which covers the middle of the block on the Madison av. side, and stands between the museum and the avenue."

Rarely did outsiders other than those meeting with Morgan in his study see inside the library.  But there were notable exceptions.  

President William Howard Taft was in town in February 1910.  Although Morgan was abroad, his personal attorney Lewis Cass Ledyard took Taft on a private tour of the library.  The President was partly prompted by the recently painted portrait of Morgan which hung in the study.  It was executed by Peruvian artist Carlos Baca-Flor and The Evening Telegram said "The artist has been recommended as the one to paint the official portrait of President Taft to be hung in the White House with the paintings of other Chief Executives."  Taft told reporters he was "pleased with the work."  He and Ledyard spent half an hour browsing the other artworks.


President Taft came to the Morgan library to inspect this portrait.  from the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

A January 1912 Prince Arthur, the Duke of Connaught and Strathearn, arrived in New York with his wife, Princess Louise Margaret of Prussia, and their daughter, Princess Patricia.  The third son of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, he and his family were fêted with the usual string of receptions, luncheons and dances.  

On January 23 The Evening World reported that on the previous day they "went to the home of J. P. Morgan and inspected the Morgan library and galleries."  The Morgan children where their hosts.  "They were met at the entrance by Mr. and Mrs. J. P. Morgan, Jr., Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Satterlee, Miss Ann Morgan and Mrs. Hamilton, another daughter of the financier, who escorted them through the Morgan private museum."

J. Pierpont Morgan, Sr. died on March 31, 1913.  At a time when funerals were routinely held in the drawing rooms of the deceased, Morgan's took place in the study he loved.  On April 13 The New York Times reported "In the red and gold west wing of the white marble Morgan library building...the body of J. Pierpont Morgan rested yesterday.  During the day members of the family and a few of the intimate friends of the dead financier visited the room where the body lies."

For a few years J. P. Morgan, Jr. continued to use his father's study.  On September 11, 1915, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported "In the library in Thirty-sixth Street where the late head of the house of Morgan made financial history and where but a year ago plans were made to prevent the United State being drained of its stock of gold, the first of a series of conferences between the leading bankers of Europe and the United States was held yesterday."

Then, in February 1924, Morgan presented the building and its collection to the public "in memory of his father," according to the Putnam County Republican.  The newspaper said "Both the library, which consists of 35,000 rare volumes and is known as perhaps the finest private collection of books and manuscripts in the world, and the Renaissance marble palace in which it is lodged...were conveyed outright by Mr. Morgan to a board of six trustees, of which he is president."

Henry Fairfield Osborn, president of the trustees of the American Museum of Natural History told the New York Evening Post "I consider it the most important gift in the world of literature ever made in the history of the City of New York, and it is destined to exert a very great influence on American literature."


photograph by Beyond My Ken
Of course, it was just the first step in the evolution of the private collection to "one of the world's foremost collections of manuscripts, rare books, music, drawings, and ancient and other works of art," as worded by the Library's website.  A succession of expansion projects take center stage on Madison Avenue; however the exquisite marble 1906 structure remains an architectural treasure.  As Alfred Hoyt Granger said in 1913, "There is no more beautiful monument to the memory of either Mr. Morgan or Mr. McKim than this library on Thirty-sixth street."

Thursday, September 12, 2019

The General Henry W. Benham House - 104 East 36th Street



photo via cityrealty.com

At just 18-feet wide the four-story brownstone house at No. 104 East 36th Street was surprisingly narrow for the upscale block.  But its handsome Italianate design held its own with its wider neighbors.  Molded architrave surrounds framed the openings and the tall parlor window, which matched the proportions of the entrance, most likely always held French windows that opened onto a cast iron balcony.

Built around 1856, the house was home to Irish-born Matthew McLaughlin and his wife, Bridgett.  The elderly couple had two grown sons, Owen and Michael.   Bridgett McLaughlin died in the house at the age of 80 on March 28, 1865, "after a long and painful illness," according to The New York Herald.  The funeral was held in the house three days later.

Before long the house was home to Jacob Valentine and his wife, Mary.  Born on September 15, 1823, Valentine's ancestors had settled in Hempstead, Long Island in the early part of the 18th century.  An attorney, Valentine was Chief Officer of the New York Supreme Court by the early 1870's.  The couple had two daughters.

Maintaining a residence like this one required a capable staff.  On March 26, 1867 an advertisement in The New York Herald sought "A First Class Cook, Washer and Ironer; one not afraid to work and with good city references."  The duties listed were more often handled by two servants--a cook and a laundress.  So it is perhaps not surprising that the new hire did not work out.  A year later a new advertisement appeared in The Herald:  "Wanted--A Girl; must be a first class washer and ironer and a good plain cook."

A help wanted ad in April 1870 was especially interesting.  "Wanted--In a private family, by the month, a first class embroideress on flannel."  Exactly what it was that required a month-by-month embroiderer is a head-scratcher.  Mary Valentine continued to bundle domestic duties when she advertised in The New York Herald on April 22, 1873 for "A Protestant girl, as nurse and seamstress; must be a good hand sewer."

In June 1881 an auction of "the entire contents" of the Valentine house was held.  Among the items being sold, according to the announcement, were "a rosewood Parlor suite," Wilson and Brussels carpets, and "elegant Dressing Bureau and Bedstead."

The following month the Valentines sold No. 104 to Henry Washington Benham for $18,000 "and other consideration."  The cash portion would be equivalent to about $456,000 today.


General Henry W. Benham - from the collection of the New York Public Library

Benham and his wife, the former Elizabeth Andrews McNeil had three children, Henry Hill, Lilla Marion, and Elizabeth Maria.  A fourth child, Henry McNeil, died as a child.

Elizabeth Benham had notable family connections.  Her father was General John McNeil, who had distinguished himself during the War of 1812; her grandfather, Benjamin Pierce, had been Governor of New Hampshire; and her half-brother, Franklin Pierce, had served as President of the United States from 1853 to 1857.

Henry W. Benham  had a distinguished career.  As a civil engineer he had worked on government works as a member of the Engineer Corps and was an expert in constructing pontoon bridges.  But it was for his military service that he was best known.   He served in the Mexican War in 1847 and '48; and during the Civil War was in command of the engineer brigade of the Army of the Potomac.  The Evening Star said of him, "He constructed and commanded the defenses at City Point, Va., in October, 1864, and on March 13 1865, was brevetted brigadier general for gallant services in the campaign terminating with the surrender of Lee.  On the same date he was promoted to the rank of major general in the United States Army."  Benham was mustered out of service on January 15, 1866.

On January 9, 1883 Lilla Marion married artist and portrait painter Frederick Dielman.   (Among his most notable works is the impressive mosaic mural History in the Library of Congress.)  

A year later, on June 1, 1884, Henry W. Benham died in the 36th Street house at the age of 71.  The Evening Star reported "He was attended in his last moments by Mrs. Benham and their two daughters, but his son, Lieut. Benham, is at present on duty in [the] Washington territory."  The New York Times attributed his death to "a complication of disorders."

Elizabeth lived on in the 36th Street house with her unmarried daughter, Elizabeth Maria.  The women leased it for the winter season of 1896-97 to wealthy newly-weds Archibald Mackay and the former Helen Gansevoort Edwards.  

The New York Times called the bride "one of the prettiest girls in society" at the time of the wedding.  The Evening Telegram reported on November 27, 1896 that the couple "will, on their return from their wedding trip, reside at No. 104 West Thirty-sixth street."  And two days later The New York Press announced that "Mrs. Mackay will receive on Mondays after December."  

The Benham women leased the house again for the winter season of 1904-05 to E. W. Wilson.

Elizabeth Maria died on October 15, 1909 at the family's country home in Oakland, New Jersey.  She left the bulk of her substantial estate to her mother, which, following her death, was to be "divided between the testatrix's brother, Capt. Henry Hill Benham, U.S.A., and her two nephews Frederick M. Dielman and Ernest B. Dielman," according to the Louisiana newspaper The Lafayette Advertiser.  But there was one codicil that drew attention nation-wide.

According to the New York Herald on October 28, 1910, Elizabeth wanted to ensure that "the education of her niece should be practical."  Therefore her will provided $400 to pay for classes in "cookery, drawing and cutting," for teen-aged Lilla Elizabeth Dielman.  The bequest would amount to nearly $11,000 today.

Lilla was an apparently favored niece; for upon reaching 21-years of age, she would received $8,000 outright and a life interest in $8,000.  The world-wise Elizabeth added that the income was "to be free from any debts or control of any husband."


Elizabeth Andews Benham attended the funeral of her son, Major Henry Hill Benham, on March 23, 1911.  She survived another four years, dying in the 36th Street house on January 4, 1915.

The Lilla Benham Dielman continued to lease the house for some years.  It was home to Cornelia Ridgely Wainwright, widow of William P. Wainwright, until her death on May 31, 1918.  Her funeral was held in the house on June 3.

John W. Stevens leased No. 104 next; and on March 22, 1919 the Benham estate sold it to him.  But he did not retain possession long.  On May 20, 1920 an advertisement listed "For Sale: 104 East 36th St., near Park Ave. 4 story and basement dwelling, 12 rooms, 2 baths."

Purchased by Samuel Bookman, by September the house had been converted to apartments.  The stoop was removed and then entrance moved to the basement level.  The architect responsible did a rather remarkable job of matching the renovations with the original design.  The original entrance became a window and matching iron half-round balconies were installed at both openings.  The new entrance received a period-perfect surround; possibly the original which was carefully removed and lowered.


photograph by the author
The apartments throughout the building were designated as "non-housekeeping apartments," meaning they had no kitchens and that cooking was disallowed.  The Department of Buildings went further, describing them as "bachelor apartments."  The new apartments on the former parlor floor were offered by agents Pease & Elliman in December 1920.  "Apartments of two rooms and bath occupying entire floor.  French doors, painted walls.  Plenty of light and air.  Latest conveniences of every type."  

On January 20, 1956 The New York Times reported that Fred H. Hill had signed a contract to buy No. 104.  The article noted that he intended to alter it "into two simplex and triplex apartments."  The renovation was completed the following year, resulting in a doctor's office and apartment in the basement, one apartment on the first floor, and two each on the upper stories.

A subsequent renovation, completed in 2010, converted the building into a doctor's office in the former basement level, a triplex apartment above, and a duplex on the fourth floor and new penthouse level, unseen from the street."

Once one of a long row of elegant Victorian homes, No. 104 looks rather lonely today, an anachronism between a looming 20th century apartment building and a parking garage.  Once home to prominent families, it is easily overlooked today.

photographs by the author

Monday, May 13, 2019

The Lost Henri M. Braem House - 15 East 36th Street


A stylish brougham with its top-hatted driver awaits at the curb in 1892.  The Architectural Record October 1892 (copyright expired)

In 1892 The Architectural Record commented "To Geo. B. Post belongs the honor of having erected the first strictly architectural terra cotta building in the City of New York.  This is located on the north side of West Thirty-sixth street, near Madison avenue."  The description was a bit misleading; since overall the house was clad in red brick.  Nonetheless, Post had liberally used the innovative material for it's lavish decorations nearly fifteen years before the article was written.

On October 1, 1877 Henri Monad Braem and his wife, the former Emily M. F. Bridge, purchased the property at No. 15 East 36th Street from millionaire David King, Jr.  Midway between the city's two most fashionable thoroughfares, Fifth and Madison Avenues, the site would give rise to an architecturally striking structure.

The Braems contracted George B. Post to design their new home.  He had recently designed the 10-story Western Union Telegraph Building downtown, often cited as the first skyscraper in Manhattan.  For the Braems he turned to the newly-appearing Queen Anne style.  It and the generous use of terra cotta decoration would result in an architecturally trailblazing design.

On February 2, 1878 The American Architect & Building News reported "Mr. George B. Post has...a notable private residence in hand, to be built at 15 East Thirty-sixth Street, for Mr. H. M. Braem, the Danish consul.  It occupies an ordinary lot, but from the front a porch of North River blue-stone will project some feet and give opportunity for some careful carving.  Moulded brick of the Peerless Brick Co. is liberally used, while large panels of terra-cotta ornament will be inserted beneath the window openings."

As the house rose, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide deemed it "remarkable" on September 28, 1878.  The Architectural Record focused on the panels, saying "The terra cotta for this building was made in Chicago by the man who in 1870 had been advised not to attempt to induce New York architects to use the material."  (Post had the panels manufactured in Chicago simply because there were no New York factories manufacturing the material yet.)

Title to the completed 25-foot wide residence was placed in Emily's name.  It had cost $30,000 to build, just under $780,000 today.  Four stories tall above the basement level, it was a delight of angles and shapes, colors and materials.  The entrance was deeply inset within the sheltering porch.  The second and third floors featured an angled bay to one side.  It was here that the use of terra cotta was most noticeable.  The fourth floor took the shape of an elaborate mansard with a French-style oeil-de-boeuf window and a fantastic faceted tower from which tall dormers burst forth.
The design's finishing touch was the finial at the tip of the conical tower. Originally the vacant side yard led to the Braem carriage house at the rear.  photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Henri and Emily had been married on January 15, 1862.  Not only was Henri a member of his stepfather's firm, Edward Bech & Co., but was the Danish Consul.  (Coincidentally or not, Edward Bech's father had also held that position.)   Highly respected, he was a member of the exclusive Union and Knickerbocker Clubs, and a vestryman in Trinity Church.  

The Braems, who had two daughters, Pauline and Josephine, summered at their Lenox estate, Ethelwyn.  It was considered one of the most beautiful mansions in the resort community and it was there, more than in the townhouse, that the Braems most lavishly entertained.  Near the estate Henri also owned a large farm.  The Press said on August 31, 1890 "his famous herd of Jersey cattle is not surpassed by any in this country."


Ethelwyn cost Braem more than $2.8 million in today's dollars to built.  The Press, August 31, 1890 (copyright expired)
New York and Lenox society were unaware that Henri Braem harbored a dark secret.  He had become romantically obsessed with a woman within the top tier of society.  It would result in the demolition of his reputation.

In 1881 the massively wealthy August Belmont, a fellow Union Club member, received an anonymous letter written in a woman's handwriting which greatly unnerved him.  A few weeks later another arrived, and then another.   The New-York Tribune later said that the harassing letters "disturbed and distressed [the Belmont family] greatly."

After "having exhausted his own resources as a detective," explained the New-York Tribune on December 17, 1884, Belmont hired a professional investigator.  He had the letters analyzed by a handwriting expert, who confirmed they had been written by a woman, most likely a "copyist."  (Copyists were paid to make untidy correspondence more professional and free of misspellings and grammar errors.  Or, in this case, to disguise the identity of the author.)

It took the detective three years to track down the woman, who "freely professed herself the amanuensis in the case, but professed entire ignorance as to who her employer was."   She asserted that her anonymous employer arrived with letters, left with both the copies and originals, and paid cash.  The detective, therefore, staked out her house and waited for the culprit.  And it was Henri M. Braem who showed up.

Upon receiving the news the indignant and irate August Belmont stormed off to Braem's office in December 1884.  Trapped, Braem admitted that it was he who had composed the years of scurrilous letters.  Belmont chose not to air the scandalous details of the case, which apparently included extramarital dalliances with the unnamed woman by both men.  The New-York Tribune noted on December 17, "Those who are known to be friendly with Mr. Belmont assert that he has expressed a disinclination to push the matter any further."

Indeed, there was no need to.  Belmont's revenge cut even deeper than any punishment that could be accomplished in court.  As he stood before Braem's desk that day he demanded a written confession, and that Braem resign from his clubs, and from his position as a Trinity vestryman.  In a single stroke he had ruined Braem's reputation and social standing.

Newspapers city-wide reported on the scandal.  The refusal of neither Belmont nor Braem to disclose further details resulted in a single unanswered detail.  The World wrote "And so Henri M. Braem was driven out of New York, and all the town learned why--though it did not learn about the woman."


The World depicted the moment the copyist pointed out Henri Braem to the detective from her window.  February 18, 1900 (copyright expired)
The humiliated Braems put on a brave face and attempted valiantly to participate in New York and Lenox society.  The World would comment decades later, "The disgraced broker flattered himself that by putting on a bold front he and the family would find life endurable on his beautiful Lenox property."

On September 19, 1888, for instance, The World reported on "Gay Times at Lenox," and noted "Saturday Henry M. Braem, the Danish consul, gives an oyster supper."

Just one week later, on September 25, the city house was nearly lost.  At 10:00 that night a massive explosion occurred which was heard two blocks away.  The Evening World reported "when Policeman Gerrity went to the spot he found the house in darkness, all the window glass broken and gas pouring from every outlet.

"The heavy doors were blown off their hinges, the staircase was partly torn away, the chandelier lay in ruins on the floor and all the china and bric-a-brac was broken."

When the reporter arrived the following morning, workers were covering the furniture and undamaged paintings.  "All the pretty glass widows had disappeared and a carpenter was measuring the staircase for a new balustrade...Upon opening the door of the extension a pile of wreckage came into view."

Wealthy families rarely left their town homes unguarded during the summer months, and Edouard Ducas, "the steward," had been inside the residence.  The World said he "is recovering from his injuries, and will be all right again in a few days.  He has several ugly cuts about the face and hands."


The wooden make-shift ramp over the curb must have created a challenge for both the horses and carriage.  The Architectural Record October 1892 (copyright expired)
The repairs were made in time for the children's party "and Christmas tree" Emily held On December 31.

Although the Braems continued to be invited to important social affairs--they were present at Emily Vanderbilt Sloane's debut in 1893, for instance--they spent less and less time in America.  On April 21, 1895 The World reported that Emily and the girls had left for Europe "to renew their energies."  They would remain there, said the article, until late in the autumn."

Six months later, on October 7, The Evening Telegram announced "The marriage of Miss Josephine Braem, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Henri M. Braem, who have one of the prettiest homes at Lenox, to Lieutenant Leo Paur von Budahegy, of the American Artillery, will be celebrated in Vienna on the 21st."

The following year, on October 4, 1896 The World reported "Mr. and Mrs. Henri M. Braem and family, of No. 15 East Thirty-sixth street, are among the New Yorkers who will be socially missed this season.  Their town house and Lenox house are leased for several years.  Mr. and Mrs. Braem went abroad in the early summer with the intention of remaining indefinitely."  The article noted "Mr. and Mrs. Braem prefer to live on the other side."

In 1897 the Braems knew they would not be returning to Lenox.  The New York Press reported in March "The beautiful country place of Henri M. Braem, Ethelwynde, has been purchased by Mrs. Robert Winthrop of New York for $70,000."  The sale price was around $2.2 million in today's money.

A cable arrived at the offices of the New-York Daily Tribune on April 25, 1899 from Vienna.  It notified New York society that Pauline had been married a week earlier to Georg von Nauendorff.  The subsequent article mentioned "Mr. and Mrs. Braem, with their daughter, have been living in Austria for the last three years."

It appears that the Braems were little heard of until the arrival of another telegram, this one to The New York Times on February 12, 1900.  The newspaper reported "A cable message was received in this city Monday announcing the death in Vienna of Henri M. Braem, for many years Danish Consul General in New York.  Mr. Braem had been in delicate health for several weeks, but his death, which resulted from pneumonia, was comparatively sudden."

Writing in The World, theatrical producer David Belasco was less kind and more dramatic.  "The cable tells us briefly that he died suddenly in Vienna the other day of pneumonia. But...this death is dramatically superfluous, since he died when August Belmont made him sign those letters sixteen years ago."

The following year, on May 1, Emily Braem sold the 36th Street house to inventor and manufacturer of printing machines, Robert Hoe.  The millionaire had helped found the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Grolier Club, a society organized for lovers of books.  

At the time of the purchase the neighborhood was changing.  In 1905 Tiffany & Company erected its magnificent white marble store steps away at the corner of Fifth Avenue and the following year, one block to the south, the massive B. Altman Department Store was completed.  Hoe may have purchased the Braem house merely to protect the block; his 50-foot wide mansion sat two houses away at No. 11.

Robert Hoe died in London on September 22, 1909.  It took four days to auction off his private library of nearly 21,000 titles.   


In 1912 the headquarters of the china firm Haviland & Co. rose on the site of Robert Hoe's mansion.  Two houses away the Braem house is still intact.  photo from the collection of the Library of Congress.
Altered, the Braem house survived until 1940 when it and the properties on either side were demolished for an eight-story apartment house.


photo via streeteasy.com