The 1925 The Brook Club - 111 East 54th Street

photograph by Transpoman

On April 2, 1903, The New York Times reported, "Some of the most prominent clubmen in this city have launched a new club, like no other in New York."  Each of the founders, said the article, belonged to the Union, Knickerbocker, Metropolitan, "or other well-known clubs," but they intended to enjoy amenities in their new club "that can be had nowhere else."

Two of the innovations were the absence of by-laws (a member told The Sun they need no laws to "see that we behave ourselves like gentlemen.  We think we can do that.") and its 24-hour service.  The front door would never be locked.  The New York Times explained, "Having in mind the lines from Tennyson--'Men may come and men may go, / But I go on forever,' the founders, men who stand foremost in New York society, have named their new organization the Brook Club."

Among the organizers were William K. Vanderbilt, Jr., Oliver H. P. Belmont, Louis Stuyvesant Chanler, Robert Livingston Beekman, Stanford White, Frederic Gebbard, and Thomas B. Clarke.  Not surprisingly, McKim, Mead and White was hired to renovate the four-story-and-basement brownstone at 7 East 40th Street for its clubhouse.  White took the reins in the remodeling.

Stanford White transformed an upscale rowhouse to an American basement clubhouse.  photo by McKim, Mead & White from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Two decades later, on May 9, 1924, the New York Evening Post reported that the Brook Club, "has bought as the site for its new headquarters the two dwellings at 111-113 East Fifty-fourth street."  The following month, on June 6, the newspaper announced that Vincent Astor had purchased the East 40th Street clubhouse property for development.

Once again, the Brook turned to a member to design its new home.  William Adams Delano was a partner of Delano & Aldrich and, as the firm had done for its 1915 Knickerbocker Club building, he turned to the dignified neo-Federal style.   

Completed the following year, the Brook Club could easily have passed as a private mansion.  Delano centered the entrance within the rusticated base.  Engaged columns upheld the entablature and faux balcony at the second floor.  A subtle, vitruvian wave of dolphins ran along the top of the ground floor.   The upper three floors were faced in Flemish bond red brick.  Three carved reliefs decorated the two-floor midsection, and the brick parapet atop the cornice was relieved with sections of stone balusters.

from the collection of the Delano & Aldrich Collection of the Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library, Columbia University.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, the grandson and namesake of the renowned poet, was a member of England's championship cricket team.  He arrived in New York "for a brief visit," according to the New York Evening Post, on February 18, 1931.  He stopped by the Brook Club, the name of which (as had been pointed out by The New York Times nearly three decades earlier) came from his grandfather's poem, "The Brook."  The newspaper noted, "He recently presented the club with one of his grandfather's original manuscripts."

The club had another well-known guest later that year.  On November 17, the Standard Union reported that Dino Grandi, Foreign Minister of Italy, would arrive in New York three days later.  Grandi was one of the 35 Fascists who made up Benito Mussolini's Chamber of Deputies in 1921.

Mayor Jimmy Walker, "feeling certain that there will be no hostile demonstration to fear," according to the article, had planned welcoming ceremonies.  Listed on the Fascist's busy schedule was, "Wednesday, Nov. 25--Luncheon at the Brook Club, 111 East Fifty-fourth street."

Two weeks earlier, a tragedy had occurred here.  The upper floors held bedrooms for out-of-town members and local members whose townhouses were closed for the summer season.   Although Samuel Adams Clark lived in town, at 655 Park Avenue, he stayed here on the night of November 7, 1931 in preparation of a meeting the following day.

Clark was described by The New York Times as "an architect widely known outside his profession for his interest in sports, particularly racing."  A member of the architectural firm Warren & Clark, he was married to the former Gertrude Jerome Alexandre.

Wealthy gentlemen traveled with their valets and, in the case of Clark at least, even for a single night.  He and Harry Wishkin arrived at the club on Saturday afternoon.  Clark "conversed with his friends," while Wishkin unpacked and arranged Clark's things.  At 11:00 that night, Clark had a "light supper" in his fourth-floor room.

At around noon the following day, Wishkin entered Clark's room to find him dead on the floor.  The New York Times reported, "From the position of the body it was believed that Mr. Clark had entered the closet in search of a bathrobe or other article of clothing, and had suffered a stroke as he reached for it."

Shortly after 10:30 on the night of April 20, "Three gunmen in evening dress sauntered into the Brook Club," as reported by the Daily Star.  The New York Times recounted, "The robbers, all young and apparently quite at their ease, entered the club hallway, only two doors off Park Avenue, and displaying pistols rounded up Roy Wilson, the cashier; William Ingram, the telephone switchboard operator, and the club doorman."

One gunman guarded the trio and another stood watch by the door.  The third emptied the cash drawer and the safe, the door of which was open.  Wall Street broker William Walter Phelps arrived in a cab in the meantime, unaware of what was taking place.  Because he had only two $100 bills in his wallet, he approached the desk for change.  He was ordered behind the counter with the other prisoners and relieved of his cash.  The New York Times reported, "One of the hold-up men obligingly stepped outside and paid the taxicab driver, presumably to prevent the latter from becoming suspicious."

The crooks then herded their prisoners into the elevator, sent it upward, and fled.  They made off with $1,500 of the club's money and Phelps's $200 (about $37,900 in total in 2025).

As it turned out, the mastermind of the heist was a former doorman, Frank Mackey.  He had worked in the club for several years, but was fired in 1927 for insubordination.  On January 20, 1933, another robbery took place here.  The New York Times reported, "three Negroes forced their way past the doorman, bound other employes [sic] and got $375."  

Mackey was planning a third and bigger caper five months later.  The scheme "to strip valuable oil paintings and framed signatures of the Presidents of the United States from the walls of the Brook Club," as described by The Times, was foiled when an apparently homeless man, "accidentally overheard some men discussing previous robberies of the club."  The clever eavesdropper, "said to be in need," according to The New York Times, pretended to want to get in on the robbery.  After getting details, he went to the club and warned the secretary.  Mackey and his cronies were rounded up and the nameless informant, "got a job and some new clothes as reward."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The building was updated in 1963.  Little changed with the  functioning of the layout.  The cellar now holds locker rooms, a billiard room and a dining room, the ground floor has the visitors' room and coat room, and the second floor holds a dining room, lounge and sitting room.  On the third floor are the card room, bar and another dining room.  The upper floors, as before, hold bedrooms and valets' rooms.

Michael R. Bloomberg was a member until 2001, when he embarked on his candidacy for mayor.  Unlike almost all other male-only social clubs, like the Union League Club, which were pressured to admit women in the 1980s, the Brook stood steadfast.  Bloomberg resigned from this and three others.  He told a reporter, "Those clubs have a right to do what they want, but if I can't change them, and I choose to resign, then I have chosen to go elsewheres [sic]."

Normally avoiding publicity, the exclusive club was recently thrust into the news when a 32-year-old worker who was working in the dumbwaiter shaft was crushed on March 25, 2025.   The Daily News reported that the dumbwaiter had fallen three floors onto the workman.  A number of firefighters had to secure the device while others broke into the wall to free him.  The injured man was taken to a hospital for treatment.

Among the celebrated members of the Brook Club over the years include Henry Kissinger, President John F. Kennedy, explorer and Congressman William A. Chanler, and Admiral James L. Holloway.

many thanks to reader Felix Bronstein for suggesting this post

The Lost Robert F. Weir House - 11 East 54th Street

The Weir house replaced a brownstone identical to those at the far left and right.   photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In the last quarter of the 19th century the family of George Rhett Cathcart lived in the 20-foot wide brownstone rowhouse at No. 11 East 54th Street, steps from fashionable Fifth Avenue.  Cathcart became seriously ill in the spring of 1892 and died at the family's Newport estate on June 27.  Seven years later, in May 1899, the 54th Street house was sold to Dr. Robert F. Weir.

Although the residence was only about 20 years old, it was architecturally outdated.  Weir wasted no time in changing that.  A month after he purchased No. 11 architects George A. Freeman and Charles Chary Thain filed plans for a five-story replacement dwelling.  Their American basement plan would do away with the high stoop that had been such a prominent feature of the Cathcart house.

The architects produced a restrained and dignified take on the popular Beaux Arts style.  A prominent columned portico fronted the rusticated stone base and provided a roomy iron-railed balcony at the second floor.  The second through fourth floors were clad in beige brick and trimmed in limestone.  A full-width balcony ran along the fourth floor and the fifth took the form of a mansard, pierced with a stone dormer flanked by French oculi.

Born in 1838, Weir had married Maria Washington McPherson in 1863.  The New York Surgical Society was founded in his home in 1879, and by now he was president of the New York Academy of Medicine.  The couple had a grown daughter, Alice Washington, born in 1850, who was married to Edward La Montague.

Dr. Robert Fulton Weir, from the archives of The Century Association

Weir was the personal physician of some of Manhattan's most socially-notable citizens, including the Rockefellers.  William Rockefeller was a close neighbor of Dr. Weir, living at the corner of 54th Street at No. 689 Fifth Avenue.  

In mid-May 1900 Rockefeller became ill and despite having been confined to his home for some time, he traveled to his 1,000-acre country estate, Rockwood Hall, on May 26.   Two days later Dr. Weir was called there.  He diagnosed appendicitis.  According to the patient's son, William G. Rockefeller, Weir cautioned "that the attack might recur at any time unless the operation was done and that it was best to operate while his general health was perfectly normal and there was a minimum of risk."  And so Weir, assisted by Dr. Henry Walker, performed a successful appendectomy on the multi-millionaire in his Tarrytown bedroom.

Dr. Weir performed surgery on William Rockefeller in this country estate, Rockwood Hall.

When Colonel Washington A. Roebling fell ill in the fall of 1902, it was Dr. Weir who attended to him.  Roebling, of course, is best known as the engineer who supervised the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge, designed by his father, John A. Roebling.

At the time the wealthy property owners in the immediate neighborhood of Weir's residence were faced with a serious threat.  A year earlier John Jacob Astor, Jr. had demolished the mansions at the southeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 55th Street and begun construction of the 19-story St. Regis Hotel.  Millionaires now joined forces to keep the incursion of commerce to a minimum.  Their tactics included buying up houses as they became available to prevent developers from obtaining a foothold.

Dr. Weir joined in the offensive.  On April 26, 1902 the Real Estate Record & Guide reported that he had purchased the two abutting brownstones, Nos. 15 and 13 West 54th Street, for $175,000 "to protect No. 11, which he owns and occupies."  That price would equal about $5.36 million today.  He resold the residences a month later to John R. Drexel, who promised to "erect an American basement dwelling on the plot," according to the Record & Guide.

Seven months later, on December 12, the New-York Tribune reported that Weir had purchased No. 3, directly behind the William Rockefeller mansion.  The article said he bought the property "to preserve for a residential district the attractions of the neighborhood in which he lives."

On December 5, 1908 the New-York Tribune reported that Weir had leased No. 11 East 54th Street to Dr. Henry W. Weist "for a term of years."  The article added "Dr. Robert F. Weir is going abroad for about six months."  The physicians most likely knew one another well.  Weist was a member of the New York Academy of Medicine, of which Weir was president.

The Weirs never returned to the 54th Street house.  On September 3, 1910 The New York Press announced they had sold it to their next-door neighbors Alice T. and John R. Drexel.  The price was $140,000, or just under $3.9 million today.  Drexel followed in Weir's footsteps in buying property along the block simply to protect his own home.

The handsome residence to the left of the Weir house, at No. 9 East 54th Street, belonged to Charles Boyd Curtis. photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York     

The following year, in September, he leased it to Mme. Luis Pastor y de Mora.  It was not long before the colorful socialite brought press attention to No. 11.

Born Constance Cazenove Lee in Baltimore, she was a grandniece of General Robert E. Lee and was married to the Spanish Minister to China.  The Evening World mentioned "Some of the servants told reporters that Mrs. de Mora's husband was in China most of the time and that they had never seen him."

A month after she moved into No. 11 West 54th Street she went on a shopping spree in a Fifth Avenue store, buying a "Cleopatra gown, $335; blue velvet suit, $134; gold lace French hat, $85; pink kimono, $65; motor coat, $57; [and a] shirtwaist, $35," according to The Evening World.  The total bill would equal nearly $20,000 today.  When Mrs. de Mora had not paid for the clothing by December, a collection agency sent a process server to the house.  And then another.  And another.

"Mrs. de Mora's residence, according to all accounts, has resembled a castle under siege for several days past," reported The Evening World.  "Three process servers have been camped outside part of the time."  One of them, Henry H. Kutner, rang the bell on December 21, 1911 and was told to return the following day when Mrs. de Mora would be in.  As he left, he heard a noise at an upper window "and saw there the lady herself in her pink kimono inviting him to leave before she called a policeman.  She was not a bit mad about it and smiled," said the article, "but she didn't come down and accept service."

Two days later, after having waited outside the door in the rain, Kutner considered making "an affidavit so strong they'll let him serve his papers by nailing them to her door."

A year after the disturbing incident, Drexel gave up the fight against commerce.  On December 3, 1912 the New-York Tribune reported that he had leased it "for a term of years to Carlhian & Co., a French decorating firm."  The article noted "Extensive alterations will be made to the house."

By 1921 the former mansion was home to the P. Jackson Higgs gallery.  In December that year he staged an exhibition of 38 paintings from the M. I. Montaignac collection of Paris, including Corot's Hamlet, Renoir's Baigneuse Assise, the Danseuses Vertes by Degas, and three works by Courbet, three Monets, a Pissaro and several Old Masters.

This Renoir was among the paintings on exhibition in 1921. from the collection of the Musee de l'Orangerie 

The gallery was the target of art thieves in 1926.  On August 3 The New York Sun reported "Thieves who entered an art gallery containing $1,000,000 worth of treasures spent several hours rummaging among its delectable works of art and were frightened off after selecting about $100,000 worth of pieces which they may never be able to dispose of."  The article deemed the neighborhood "one of the most heavily guarded districts of the city."

It was one of the largest art thefts in years.  The crooks made off with Gobelin and Outdenards tapestries, Syrian and Persian glass jars, a silver figure of Hercules described as "the finest example of Renaissance sculpture in America," and other irreplaceable treasures.  Higgs told police that the objects were "of such fame in the art world that efforts to dispose of them would arouse suspicion."

The thieves left masterpieces like a Van Dyck portrait of a nobleman and a Romney portrait valued at about $1.8 million and $650,000 respectively in today's money.

Detectives doggedly investigated the case and, just as Higgs had predicted, the pieces were easily identified when they hit the market.  The first arrest came in October 1927 after Chinese and Japanese antiques showed up in the store of Marie Simmons on West 49th Street.  She was cleared of any wrongdoing, but Henry Ghiggeri, from whom she purchased them, was arrested for dealing in stolen property and later found guilty.

The art gallery remained much of the Weir interiors, including the staircase and plasterwork. original source unknown  

In November 1936 P. Jackson Higgs announced it would be leaving its home of more than a decade.  The subsequent tenants would be much less impressive.  On October 14, 1938 Ann Grady signed a lease for the second floor for "for a beauty parlor," as reported by The New York Times.

There were show windows on the first and second floors by 1941.  photo via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The upper floors continued to be leased as apartments.  One tenant brought scandal to the address in 1948.  Madeleine Blavier rented rooms here that year.  She allowed a friend, Nancy Choremi to use the apartment on occasion.  Neighbors were no doubt shocked when the State of New York took Nancy to court in 1949 for "acts of prostitution" which had taken place there.

The five former mansions at Nos. 3 through 11 West 54th Street survived until 1954.  On July 13 that year The New York Times reported that plans had been filed for a 19-story office building on the site, designed by Richard and Emery Roth.

photo via commercialobserver.com

The Lost Charles Boyd Curtis House - 9 East 54th Street

A hansom driver sits in his high seat behind his cab in front of the Curtis mansion. The sumptuous residence to the right belonged to Dr. Robert F. Weir.  photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York    

In the years immediately following the end of the Civil War the family of John S. Meyer moved into the newly-completed brownstone house at No. 9 East 54th Street.  The block, between Fifth and Madison Avenues was lined with similar four-story residences by the mid-1870's.

On November 1, 1877 Andrew Ellicott Douglass purchased the house for $45,000.  The price tag, equal to more than $1 million today, reflected the upscale tenor of the block.

Born at West Point, New York on November 18, 1819, Douglass and his wife, the former Sarah Cortelyou Cornell, were married in 1847 and had one daughter, Isabel.  While he was a highly successful businessman--the president of the Hazard Powder Company--and held memberships in the Century Association and the Church Club, his true passion was American anthropology.  His academic interests were reflected in his memberships--the American Society of Natural History, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Numismatic and Archaeological, the Linnaean, Ethnological and American Geological Societies, and the Anthropological Societies of Washington and Paris.

Douglass's purchased of the commodious house followed by one year Isabel's marriage to Charles Boyd Curtis.  The newlyweds and their two-month old son, Ellicott, moved in with the Douglasses.

The marriage was Curtis's second.  The new father, at 50 years old, was 21 years older than Isabel.  Born in 1827 he came from an early New England family and had served in the Civil War.  Although he was admitted to the bar in 1850, by now he had given up law and was listed as a commission merchant.

Like this father-in-law, his passion was not in his business.  His expertise in art was recognized internationally.  In 1880, for instance, The American Art Review noted that he was preparing a new book, the Catalogue Raissoné of the Works of Velasquez and Murillo.  "The plan on which the author proceeds is a novel one.  He begins by examining all the old Spanish authorities,--Pachero, Palomino, Paez, Cean Bermudex, Tubino, etc.  All the pictures mentioned by these writers are to be classified according to subjects, to be fully described, and to be traced down to their present owners, wherever that is possible."  The expensive and exhaustive work took another three years to complete.

Charles Boyd Curtis original source unknown, via green-wood.com

The Douglasses and Curtises not only shared the 54th Street townhouse, but a summer estate, Locust Wood, in Rye, New York.   The Curtis population gradually increased with the births of Charles Boyd, Isabel Woodbridge and Ronald Eliot Curtis.

For long stretches the families would see little of Andrew Douglass.  He had retired in 1876, the year of Isabel's wedding, and had thrown himself full-time into his study of anthropology.  The Wisconsin Archeologist later wrote "Since 1876, Mr. Douglass devoted much of his time to the study of the Indian artifacts of the United States.  He spent ten winters cruising along the Floridan Coast, locating over fifty Indian mounds, many of which he excavated."

When he was at home he, like his son-in-law, spent hours writing and his essays were widely published.  (Incidentally, Douglass should not be confused with the identically-named Andrew E. Douglass, born in 1867, who also left his name on archaeology.)

As the turn of the century approached, Fifth Avenue just steps away had seen the rise of palaces, most notably those of the Vanderbilt families.  The Douglass's brownstone was decidedly out of fashion, architecturally.  In May 1899 Douglass commissioned the architectural firm of York & Sawyer to give it a substantial make over.  Their plans, filed on June 2, called for a "new front, brick extension and interior alterations."  That hardly described the transformation.

York & Sawyer removed the stoop and pulled the facade nearly to the property line.  The rusticated stone base was fronted by a columned portico which upheld a balcony at the second floor, or piano nobile.  Three stories of Flemish-bond red brick were given understated Beaux Arts touches, like the effusive cartouches below the cornices of the second floor openings.  A full-width stone balcony introduced the steep copper-clad mansard level.

The interiors, of course, were also transformed.  The architects avoided fussy French decor, so popular at the time; but focused on English prototypes.  The families apparently whole-heartedly embraced the do-over, for period photographs show the rooms filled with new furniture.  Only a few antique pieces were kept.

The dining room (top) with its exquisite plaster ceiling and leaded windows, had both gas and electric lighting.  One of Curtis's large artworks hangs in the library.  Interestingly the graceful staircase seen through the doorway seems to be original and survived the extensive remodeling.  photos by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The renovations were completed by the end of 1900 and on December 20 the New-York Tribune noted "Mrs. Charles Boyd Curtis, of No. 9 East Fifty-fourth-st., has issued invitations for at homes on January 8 and 15."  ("At homes" were necessary to prevent confusion among socialites as to who was receiving and who was calling.)

The New York Times society column preferred to call the January 8 at home a "reception," and the following day said it "was practically a house warming, as it was the first entertainment given at their residence since its rebuilding."  Entertainments would temporarily end following the winter season that year.

Rather unexpectedly, there were no sliding doors between the major rooms like the music room (top) or parlor--just portieres.  photos by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On September 30 Andrew Ellicott Douglass died in the 54th Street house at the age of 82.  The Wisconsin Archaeologist lamented "Anthropological science has thus lost a sincere friend."  Earlier that year he had presented a collection of over 22,000 specimens to the American Museum of Natural History.  In writing his obituary, Harlan I. Smith wrote "Although suffering from an infirmity of old age, Mr. Douglass was enthusiastic and cheerful to the last.  He was a man of great patience, charitable to those who differed from him in opinion, and of a gentle and courteous nature."

On October 18, 1902 Isabella Curtis was married in Christ Church at Rye, New York.  The New York Times reported "The ceremony will be followed by a reception for relatives and intimate friends only, as both families are in mourning, at Locust Wood, the country home of the Curtises at Milton Point, near Rye."

Charles Boyd Curtis died "unexpectedly" in the 54th Street house late on the night of March 25, 1905.  The New York Times recalled his book on Valesquez and Murillo, saying it "is often referred to as an authority."  He was buried in Greenwood Cemetery where Isabel erected a 20-foot tall Celtic cross created by Tiffany Studios to mark his grave.

At the time of Curtis's death, William Rockefeller had been battling the incursion of commerce along the section of Fifth Avenue known as Millionaires' Row for several years.  His own house stood at the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 54th Street.  In 1901 he purchased 5 East 54th Street and in 1904, when the St. Regis Hotel threatened to break through the block, he purchased Nos. 3 and 7.  Now, in 1906, he bought the Curtis house.  On September 29 the Real Estate Record & Guide commented "the purchase by Mr. Rockefeller effective shuts the St. Regis out of 54th st."

The Curtis family seems to have leased their home from Rockefeller.  Isabel and Elliott were both still listed at the address in 1908.  But following Sarah Douglass's death in 1910, they moved on, replaced in the mansion by Mrs. David Wagstaff.

Although Rockefeller stubbornly stayed on in his brownstone mansion, in 1914 he finally faced the cold facts.  On April 11 The Sun reported "William Rockefeller, who lives at the northeast corner of Fifth avenue and Fifty-fourth street has decided that trade has gained too much of a foothold in his section for him to prevent further expansion and yesterday leased the dwelling at 9 East Fifty-fourth street for business purposes.  Up until least year it was occupied as a dwelling."

William Rockefeller's house was on the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 54th Street.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

London art dealer E. M. Hodgkins signed a lease at $10,000 a year--more than a quarter of a million in today's dollars.  The Sun added "The house will not be altered, as it could not be improved on for the purpose it is to be put to.  Mrs. David Wagstaff lived in the dwelling up to last year."

The building saw a variety of tenants over the next decades.  Following Hodgkins, Charles & Heller, ladies' tailors was here until 1921, after which Adolphus Gayne, Baron de Meyer leased the property.  Despite his noble title, Gayne was best known as a celebrity and fashion photographer.  He took the portraits of divergent figures from actors John Barrymore and Lilian Gish to King George V.  In 1913 he was appointed as the first official fashion photographer for Vogue magazine.

New-York Tribune, June 4, 1922 (copyright expired)

The photographer's stay was short lived.  In 1922 the former house filled with a variety of tenants. Interior decorator Agnes Foster Wright took the top floor, while other spaces were leased to Madame E. Ritchie, "gowns," dressmaker Miriam Bouslogue, and Mabel A. Barnet.  The ground floor was taken by K. and W. Hat and Cap.

The following year the Rockefeller estate sold No. 9 to the Mandel-Ehrich Corporation, which simultaneously purchased Nos. 3, 5 and 7 and 12 East 55th Street.  The former mansion was leased in November 1923 to Emile Villemin for use by the Librarie des Annals.

Along with the Library, the property now housed other organizations, like the Alliance Francaise and the Overseas Service League where Brigadier-General Lord Thompson spoke about World War I on March 7, 1925.  In 1927 the Overseas Service League lobbied theater managers to provide entertainment for disabled World War I veterans.  Its efforts resulted in blocks of ten seats being set aside in certain theaters, like the Roxy, for soldiers wounded in battle.

By the outbreak of World War II, the street level of No. 9 had been converted to a storefront, home to society clothier Boué Soeurs de Paris.   On April 18 it was the scene of a fashion show and entertainment to benefit the Red Cross War Fund of Greater New York.  It included an auction of autographed books by noted French and American authors.

When Wurts Bros. took this shot on a much-changed East 54th Street, Soeurs announced its name in letters applied to the second floor facade and on the awning.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The annual fashion shows of  Boué Soeurs were anticipated events among female members of society.  On March 16, 1950 The Times remarked "Femininity personified is the keynote of the spring and summer collection of Boue Soeurs 9 East Fifty-fourth Street."

But the days of fashion shows were coming to an end.  On December 7, 1950 The New York Times reported "Plans for the erection of a fourteen-story business building on Fifty-fourth Street, near Fifth Avenue, were announced yesterday."   The last of the Boué Soeurs shows was held in its salon on October 4, 1951.  A replacement building, engulfing Nos. 3 through 9, built by the Knickerbocker Construction Corporation, was completed in 1955.

The Lost Kleinberger Galleries - 12 East 54th Street

Before its two substantial remodelings, the house looked much like the old rowhouse to the left.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Charles Price Britton's 25-foot wide rowhouse at No. 12 East 54th Street was not typical of those around it.  Unlike the ubiquitous brownstone cladding which Edith Wharton would later describe as "deadly uniformity of mean ugliness," Britton's home was faced in brick.

Like most of its neighbors, the house was erected shortly after the end of the Civil War.   The Britton family were residents at least by 1882 when their address appeared on the membership list of the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church.

Britton was the head of the stock brokerage firm of Charles P. Britton & Company.   He traced his American lineage to William Britton, a sea captain who came from Bristol, England and settled in Newport in the 18th century.  (Oddly enough, his name was originally William Summerill, but he took his mother's maiden name before leaving England.)

Britton had married Caroline Berry in September 1866. The couple suffered more than their share of heartbreak.  Their second child, Mary Marsh, died in 1875 at just two years old.  Their eldest son, William Adams died at the age of 20 on September 29, 1888.  Only Henry Berry Britton, born on September 5, 1878, would survive to marry and become a member of his father's firm.

Although Britton was a member of the socially elite Union League Club, his other memberships reflected his familial history.  He held memberships in the Sons of the Revolution, the Society of Colonial Wars, and the New England Society of New York.

In April 1893 the Brittons commissioned architect John Sexton to remodel the interiors.  The filed plans are vague at best, but at about $13,000 in today's money they most likely involved cosmetic updating.

At the time John Daly and his wife Ida lived at No. 208 West 59th Street.   Daly could not have been more different from Charles P. Britton and yet their paths would cross before very long.

Daly ran gambling houses, one of which was very near his home.  The Sun, on August 6, 1893, described his two city operations as "the famous house in Twenty-ninth street near Broadway, and another in Fifty-ninth street opposite the Park."   Reportedly he paid the police as much as $100,000 per week to prevent raids.

But he was best known for his lavish gambling house in Long Branch, New Jersey.   The Sun disapprovingly called Long Branch "America's Monte Carlo," and reported "Gambling is unquestionably a craze in Long Branch,  The average man is overcome by it."  The newspaper was astonished that there a patron could gamble "with impunity and without fear of molestation unless he happens to be a native of the town."

"John Daly's place at the Branch is the house where the biggest games are played and where a man can get just about as big a limit as he cares to make.  It is the house most frequented by gamblers, because it has the reputation of running the squarest games of any at the Branch," said The Sun.

In stark contrast to the seedy gambling dens of Manhattan's Tenderloin District, this was a palace--a forerunner of the Atlantic City and Las Vegas resorts.  "The main gaming room...is a great rotunda with a beautiful stained glass top, and the bright lights glaring through the colored glass are a big advertisement of the vice inside...There is a great wide seaside piazza in front, with big armchairs that invite the passer by, and a yawning doorway that reaches out to take in all."

Like today's casinos, patrons were treated to the best in food.  "John Daly's chef is a banner man in his line.  He is said to be the best chef at the Branch.  The viands he serves for the breakfast of the guests, and the midnight lunch, are even more tempting than the meals at the Ocean Club."

But the purpose of the article was not to compliment Daly's gambling house.  The writer warned "Of course, ninety-nine men in every hundred get the worst of the game," and said of Daly's, "It was there that Senator Wolcott dropped his $24,000 in a few hours, and it was there that Banker Woerishoffer used to go and play to win or lose thousands every night."

John Daly's Long Branch gambling house was built around a central rotunda.  The New-York Tribune, August 3, 1902 (copyright expired)

And so the announcement on March 16, 1895 that the Brittons had sold No. 12 to John and Ida Daly must have sent shock waves through the neighborhood.  The selling price, $67,500, would be equal to more than $1.8 million today.

But before they moved in, the Dalys modernized the out-of-date house.  They hired architect Joseph Wolf to remodel the facade.  Wolf removed the stoop and created an American basement home.  While the entertainment rooms would still be on what had been the parlor floor, the entrance was now located a few steps below street level.

The New York Herald, July 24, 1921 (copyright expired)

The city of Long Branch dealt a severe blow to Daly six years later when it outlawed gambling.   In July 1903 The Evening World commented that the once-lavish gambling houses were "barred and desolate" and the "abode of cobwebs and dust."   John and his brother, Phil Daly (who ran another operation in the town), told the reporter that "the present state of Long Branch is worse than the old."  Gambling never went away, they asserted, but had simply been forced underground.  "Public gambling, according to their argument has a tendency to make men more careful," explained the article.

Nevertheless, Daly was out of the gambling business and turned his full attention to the more socially acceptable line of horse breeding.   He established a summer residence in Saratoga, home of the nation's oldest race track (opened in 1863).  The town lured not only racing and horse enthusiasts, but celebrities like Sarah Bernhardt, Enrico Caruso and Oscar Wilde.

It was at their Saratoga cottage on Union Avenue that Ida Daly died on July 6, 1905.   Less than a year later Daly died at the age of 68 in the 54th Street mansion.  In reporting his death, the New-York Tribune called him the "well known turfman and gambler" and said "he was regarded as one of the squarest men in the gambling business"  The article noted "He frequently said that gambling, properly conducted, was as legitimate as any other business."

The Daly mansion was acquired by real estate operators Michael J. and John O'Connor.   Although still home to many wealthy families, the neighborhood around St. Patrick's Cathedral was increasingly seeing the encroachment of commerce.

Finally, on June 1, 1910 the O'Connors sold the house.  The following day the New-York Tribune reported "The buyer is Mrs. Charlotte E. Van Smith, who will use it for her dressmaking business."

Charlotte did some renovations of her own.  Within two weeks her architect, William Anagnost, filed plans to add an elevator, new doors and fire-escapes.   The transformation of house-to-business cost her around a quarter of a million in today's dollars and included living quarters for her on the upper floors.

Dressmakers like Charlotte E. Van Smith catered to the carriage trade and often used the term modiste to describe themselves.  The cost of their services and glamorous costumes earned them small fortunes, affording Charlotte to live in luxurious accommodations with a still-fashionable address.

Charlotte employed a small staff of experienced seamstresses as well as a boy whose tasks included running packages of completed gowns to her customers' homes, the steamship docks, or shipping firms if the patron were out of town.  Such was the case on December 14, 1911 when three gowns had to be completed and shipped off to Philadelphia, Baltimore and Parkinburg, Pennsylvania.  The New York Times reported that "Miss Smith kept her employees working until after dark last night" on the three dresses.  Each of the dresses were valued at about $300--nearly $7,500 today.

With the garments boxed and labeled and sent off with 15-year old Nathan Friedman, Charlotte felt she could relax.  But disaster was about to strike.

Nathan was headed to the Adams Express Company depot at 48th Street and Madison Avenue.  At around 52nd Street he was approached by a man who said he needed a messenger boy.  Nathan directed him to the telegraph office; but the man said he had been there and simply could not find one.

He offered Nathan $1 to take a message to "F. Marshall" at 838 Fifth Avenue (which was, in fact, the mansion of William Watts Sherman).  The boy refused and started on his way.

Insistent, the stranger said he lived at the Hotel Buckingham and that if Nathan would come with him to get the message, he would guard the packages until he returned.   The boy was finally convinced and went off on the phony task.  The New York Times reported "When he returned the bundles were gone" and surmised a "young man is richer by some $900 worth of evening gowns which he purloined by trickery from the boy."

Apparently now retired, in January 1919 Charlotte E. Van Smith leased her shop (in what the Real Estate Record & Guide now termed "the Van Smith Building") to another high-end dressmaker, "Miss Jean, designer of gowns." 

Exactly one year later, on January 27, 1920, the business was looking for a new model.  The advertisement in The New York Herald not only reflected the caliber of the clientele, but a change in the dress sizes today.  "Model.  Attractive, size, 36, preferably brunette.  High class dressmaking establishment.  House of Jean, Inc."

Significant change would come to No. 12 when Charlotte E. Van Smith next leased the building to the interior decorating firm of Leed, Inc.   On July 24, 1921 The New York Herald opined "One of the latest and perhaps one of the most interesting examples of remaking an old Gotham dwelling into an appropriate home for business has just been accomplished by Leed, Inc...who recently moved from 631 Fifth avenue into the four story and basement house at 12 East Fifth-fourth street, once the home of 'Phil' [sic] Daly, the gambler."

Surprisingly, the firm's president, L. R. Kaufman, did not seek the help of a professional architect.  Instead, he personally remodeled the facade with striking results.  What had been a modified Victorian rowhouse was now what pretended to be a glorious French Gothic mansion; its yawning, deep-set entrance recalling a 15th century gatehouse.

Carved crockets adorned the entrance arch, a faux balcony introduced the second floor with grouped, stained glass windows, and a series of pointed Gothic arches--including two blind arches at their end--finished the top floor.   Inside Kaufman attempted to retain a domestic environment in which to display the firm's furniture, artwork and bric-a-brac.  The New York Herald said he had finished the walls in "rough old terra cotta plaster with marble terrazzo floors in black and white squares.  The general effect is the production of old Italian walls in warm colors."

A new staircase lead to the main showroom on the second floor.  Leaded windows similar to those in the front opened onto the rear garden, "which is to be finished with a terrace and loggia with playing  fountains,"

The New York Herald, July 24, 1921 (copyright expired)

Leeds, Inc. operated from the lower two floors.  The third floor was leased to Louise & Annette, Inc., a millinery shop; and the upper apartment where Charlotte E. Van Smith had lived was sublet to 
Mrs. Wendell Phillips.    

Mrs. Phillips would be forced to perform an unpleasant task later that year.  She was the president of the Carry-On Association which operated the Carry-On Club for disabled soldiers on Madison Avenue.   Clubs for military men who had returned from the war were common and rarely prompted anything but favorable press.

But in September 1921 seven men complained to the courts that they had been ousted from the club and asked to be reinstated.  A journalist from The New York Herald visited No. 12 East 54th Street, but on October 1 reported "Mrs. Phillips refused to discuss the matter other than to say the men ejected were considered 'disturbing elements.'"

In the fall of 1927 the esteemed Kleinberger Galleries moved from 725 Fifth Avenue to the former Leeds, Inc. showrooms.  Kleinberger routinely dealt in Old Masters and catered to the country's wealthiest and best informed collectors.  Just before leaving its former location, the gallery exhibited a modern piece--an oil portrait of American hero Charles A. Lindbergh.

The New York Times reported "The portrait is the work of M. A. Rasko, a New York artist who went to Mitchel Field and sketched Lindbergh on the day before his take-off.  The aviator was shy at first, thinking Mr. Rasko had gone there to photograph him.  Finally he relented and allowed the artist 'five minutes.'  Mr. Rasko stayed forty-five minutes and completed his sketch."

Now at No. 12, Francis Kleinberger returned to more familiar territory.   In January 1928, for instance, he was asked to settle a dispute when London art critics declared that "The Lute Player" by Vermeer in the collection of Philadelphia attorney John G. Johnson was a forgery.   The controversy arose when an identical picture appeared in the Royal Academy's Winter Show in London, on loan from the collection of the late Lord Iveagh.

Kleinberger emphatically defended Johnson's as the original.  "I am positive that the painting is a genuine work by Vermeer," he said.  As for Lord Iveagh's painting, he withheld an opinion until he had the opportunity to examine it.

Later that year, in November, the gallery held an exhibition of paintings by early German masters, including Hans Holbein's portrait of King Edward VI of England as a boy.  The show was to benefit the American Red Cross.

Kleinberger Galleries remained in the building at least through 1935.  By the early 1940s it had been converted to a Swedish restaurant, the Three Crowns.  It was operated by John Perrson and Bror Munson who had run the Sweish Pavilion at the World's Fair.  Robert W. Dana in his 1948 Where to Eat in New York said "It has a beautiful dining room and bar, not too large, but nicely proportioned."  The successful eatery operated into the early 1960s.

postcard from the collection of  the Columbia University Libraries

In 1970, about a century after it was erected as a brick-faced Victorian rowhouse, the unique structure was demolished.  The 43-story office building known as 520 Madison Avenue now occupies the site.

photo via The Skyscraper Center

The Lost Henry Ziegler House - 18 East 54th Street

The office of Palmer & Hornbostel produced this attractive watercolor rendering.  from The Catalogue of the Annual Architectural Exhibition by The T Square Club, 1902 (copyright expired)

Shortly following the end of the Civil War the block of 54th Street, between Fifth and Madison Avenues became lined with high-stoop brownstone rowhouses  Among the residents was the Dennis W. Buckley family, who lived in the 23-foot wide home at No. 18.

Buckley was a well-to-do real estate operator.  He and his wife, Ann, had three daughters (Ellen, Lizzie and Cornelia) and two sons (Mortimer and Richard).  Residual anti-Southern sentiments did not seem to blemish the wedding of daughter Ellen to Texan Patrick Henry Lydon on September 10, 1866.  Perhaps Lydon's embracing New York City as his adopted home helped his reputation.

While Ellen had a church wedding, her youngest sister, Lizzie, was married in the 54th Street house three years later.  It is probable that she had met her new husband, Cornelius J. Farley, through her father's business dealings.  He  was the son of the wealthy builder and developer Terence Farley.

The last of the daughters' weddings was on December 9, 1873 when Cornelia married W. Thomas Boyle.  Their marriage would be tragically short.

Cornelia's husband died on January 23, 1875 at the age of 32.  His funeral was held in the same parlor of the Buckley house where the couple had been married just over a year earlier.    The family would hold another funeral seven months later following Dennis's death in the house on August 17.

By now Richard W. Buckley had gone into his father's trade.  But his was an all-encompassing operation and he acted as developer, builder and architect.   He and his wife, Josephine, lived in the 54th Street house with his widowed mother and he ran his business from the address.

Ann Buckley lived until her 80's.  She died in the house in April 1891.  The family quickly sold the it to Henry Ludwig Ziegler for the handsome price of $52,500--more than $1.4 million today.

Ziegler was born in Manhattan on October 30, 1857.  The son of cabinet maker Jacob Ziegler and his wife, the former Doretta Steinway.  She was the daughter of Henry E. Steinway, founder of Steinway & Sons.   After graduation from the Mount Pleasant Military Academy in Ossining, New York, he went into his father's business on Bleecker Street.

But Henry's uncles, William and C. F. Theodore Steinway, recognized the remarkable quality of his workmanship and lured him away to their piano-making factory.  By the time he purchased the Buckley house, he held a highly-important position within the Steinway firm.

Henry had married a cousin, Albertine Vogel, on October 12, 1881.   The following year he was elected a trustee and director of Steinway & Sons; and in 1883 he became president of another Steinway venture, the Hunters Point Railroad.  The couple had three children.

Henry Ziegler posed casually outside the Steinway factory.  from the Henry Z. Steinway Archive the Smithsonian Institution's William Steinway Diary

The purchase of the house came not long after Henry inherited a quarter of his uncle Theodore's interest in the Steinway firm in 1889.   His contribution to the success of Steinway & Sons did not go unnoticed even outside the firm.  On October 9, 1892 The Sun described him as having "a high order of inventive genius" and said he "does much to keep the Steinway piano in the van of the march of improvement.  His scientific knowledge of piano construction in all its complicated details is second to none in the trade."

At the turn of the century the Ziegler house was decidedly outdated.  Half a block away, on Fifth Avenue, the Vanderbilt family's mansions lined up between 51st and 57th Streets to form what New Yorkers called Vanderbilt Row.  In 1901 Henry and Albertine took steps to bring their home into fashion.

On June 14 the architectural firm of Palmer & Hornbostel filed plans for massive renovations.  The $15,000 do-over not only enlarged the house and remodeled the interiors, but gave it a totally new and modern personality.

The Ziegler house was a near match to its neighbors prior to the make-over.  When this photo was taken, the ironwork of the stoop, basement and balcony had yet to be installed.  photo by Bryon Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Lowering the stoop had enabled the architects to pull the facade of the house several feet forward, adding to living space inside.  An extension to the rear further enlarged the house.  The shortened stoop gave the impression of a modern, American basement residence; however the floor levels inside went unchanged as did the walk-down English basement.  Instead of climbing the high stoop outside, visitors now went up a half-story staircase in the foyer.

Palmer & Hornbostel faced the house in red brick and trimmed it in white marble.  The Beaux Arts design featured a robustly framed circular window above the double-doored entrance, a full-width balcony at the second floor, and another fronting the dormered mansard.  There were now 15 rooms plus a surprising 5 bathrooms.

Perhaps as a nod to the Ziegler family's European roots, the dining room was German in style.  Note the whimsical carved faces of the mantel.  photograph by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Renovations were completed just in time for daughter Eleanor's wedding to James A. Hill.  The pair was married in the Church of the Heavenley Rest in May 1902.  Heartbreakingly, two months later on July 1, it was the scene of her funeral.  The New-York Tribune reported "Her illness was brief, and her death came as a great shock."

The Zieglers remained in the house until the spring of 1920 when they sold it to Martin Beck.  On May 8 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported "Martin Beck, president of the Orpheum Circuit of Theatres, bought 18 East 54th street...as a wedding gift for his daughter Helen, who was recently married to James Howard Hoffman."

It could be that the newlyweds were not interested in living in what was, by now, a highly commercial neighborhood.  But for whatever reason, on December 9, 1922 the Record & Guide reported that Beck had sold the house.

It became home to the Board of Missions of the Presbyterian Church of the United States.  The group remained in the building for decades, until selling it to real estate operator Hugh K. McGovern.  He converted it to office space, selling it in August 1951 to S. M. Frank & Co. for its offices and showrooms.  Manufacturers of "Medico filter pipes and cigarette holders and Demuth pipes," the firm announced it "plans extensive alterations before occupying the building."

As the last quarter of the 20th century neared, the 54th Street block bore little resemblance to the upscale residential neighborhood it had been in the 1860's through the World War I era.  The venerable Buckley-Ziegler house was demolished amid a flurry of development on the block in 1970.  Today the site is part of an indoor parking lot.