McKim, Mead & White's 1912 998 Fifth Avenue

 

photograph by Eden, Janine and Jim

In the first decade of the 20th century, apartment living had gained favor on the Upper West Side.  On the opposite side of Central Park, however, things were different.  Here, multi-family residential buildings were still associated with tenements--not the sort of conditions Upper East Side millionaires would consider.  And so when James T. Lee (the future grandfather of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis) and Charles R. Fleischmann, partners in the Century Holding Co., acquired the plot of land at the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 81st Street in the spring of 1910, they were setting out on a risky and daring project.

Lee and Fleischman had acquired the property from millionaire August Belmont "after long negotiations," according to the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide on June 4, 1910.  Belmont had purchased the plot (which was "one of two pieces on upper 5th av. that are not covered by restrictions") as the intended site of his mansion.  Now the partners conceived the third "really high-class apartment house," as described by the Guide, on Fifth Avenue.

"The house will be twelve stories high and will contain but eighteen apartments.  No apartment will have less than seventeen rooms and there may be one of twenty-eight rooms," said the article.  Readers were doubtlessly shocked when they read, "The rentals will range from $10,000 to $26,000, making them the highest renting apartments in the city."  That shock would have been well founded.  The $26,000 per year rent would translate to about $71,650 a month by 2024 conversion.

Six of the 18 apartments "will be on the duplex plan," said the article, adding, 

All the rooms will be of large dimensions and will be decorated as elaborately as the most sumptuous private homes.  The exterior of the building will be in the Italian Renaissance, the facade being of limestone.

McKim, Mead & White, which was currently designing the north wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art almost directly across the avenue, had been given the commission.  The firm's architect William Richardson headed the project.  His choice of an Italian palazzo design was almost assuredly intended to slip unobtrusively into the mansion neighborhood.  (McKim, Mead & White had been faced with the same consideration in 1896 when it designed the University Club within Millionaires' Row.  This new building would have striking similarities.)

Richardson separated the building's three four-story sections with prominent stringcourses--one distinguished by a stone balustrade and the other by Juliette balconies.  The rusticated granite base was decorated with Renaissance inspired shields.  The fifth floor openings wore arched and triangular pediments, and a bracketed cornice completed the design.

McKim, Mead & White released this rendering in 1910.  Record & Guide, August 13, 1910 (copyright expired)

As excavations got underway, the Century Holding Company did significant marketing, stressing that these apartments would be commensurate to mansion living.  On August 13, 1910, the Record & Guide reported, "In the plan of the house an intention is perceived to give in each apartment more and larger room than can be found in any private city dwelling, with the exception of a few of the largest residences.  The four principal rooms--namely, the salon, dining-room, living-room (or library) and the gallery--aggregate 2,500 square feet."  

The servants' wing was well separated from the tenants' space.  The New York Times, December 7, 1913 (copyright expired)

Residents would also be supplied with jewelry safes, wine cellars in the basement, and at least six servants' rooms.  As the building neared completion on March 10, 1912, The Sun noted, "the rooms have been laid out and made of such size that tenants can entertain just as they would in large dwellings.  Indeed the use of fine marbles and woods in reception halls and on stairways has been so skillful that the apartments give at once the impression of expensive individual homes."

An advertisement promised, "Management provides without charge--Vacuum cleaning of suites, window cleaning, artificial refrigerator and supply of cake ice."  The bathrooms were lined with marble.  The Sun was impressed with the modern conveniences, pointing out,

The kitchen is provided with a waste incinerator which makes unnecessary the handling of garbage.  Washing machines of the latest device and electric drying and ironing equipment are included in the service.  Refrigeration is supplied to kitchens by means of a pipe coil and cake ice made on the premises as well is supplied to tenants.

photograph from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

At the time of the article, almost all of the apartments had been rented.  Those who signed leases during construction had provided their input on the individual designs.  The Sun mentioned, "In the Root and Guggenheim apartments, which include whole floors, the salons and livings rooms have been thrown together to make large spaces where receptions and dances may be held.  In Senator Guggenheim's apartment this room has been done in gold, with a ceiling which probably is the equal of anything of the kind in the city."

The tenants mentioned in the article, industrialist and politician Murray Guggenheim and his wife, the former Leonie Bernheim; and Elihu Root and his wife, Clara Wales; would have equally impressive neighbors within the building.  Others who signed leases during construction, according to The Sun, were Commodore Robert E. Tod, Lloyd Aspinwall, Rogers Winthrop, Levi P. Morton, Colonel George Fearing, and Henry Goldman.

On November 1, 1913, the Record & Guide concluded, "It paid to go the limit."  The article said, "The highest schedule of rentals ever known in the city attracted families from the best circles of society.  No more distinguished social functions have occurred anywhere this year in the city than were enjoyed in this house."

Elihu Root was a familiar name to Americans.  He was appointed U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York in 1883.  Then, in July 1899, he was made Secretary of War by President William McKinley.  Root resigned his cabinet position on February 1, 1904 to return to New York and his private law practice.  The Roots' summer estate was in Clinton, New York.

Another former politician was Levi Parsons Morton, who had married his second wife, Anna Livingston Reade Street, in 1873.  A descendant of George Morton, who landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts on the Ann in 1623, he started his career in the drygoods business.  In 1878, he was elected to Congress, was appointed Minister to France in 1881, and in 1889 became Vice President under Benjamin Harrison.  He served as Governor of New York from January 1, 1895 through December 31, 1896.

Banker Henry Goldman of Goldman Sachs and his wife, the former Babette Kaufman, had three children.  All the residents of 998 Fifth Avenue had impressive art collections, but none, perhaps, surpassed the Goldmans'.  Shortly after they moved in, on December 12, 1912, The New York Times reported that Goldman had purchased a "painting of St. Bartholomew by Rembrandt" and said it, "is now adorning the gallery of Mr. Goldman's home."  Dr. Wilhelm Bode, the foremost European authority on Rembrandt declared it "to be a splendid specimen of the great artist's work."

Five years later, on January 16, 1917, The New York Times reported that Goldman had added Hans Holbein's Portrait of a Musician to his collection.  "The picture cost Mr. Goldman $175,000," said the article.

Three years before that article, the Goldman family's name had appeared in the newspapers for less happy reasons.  On May 26, 1914, Robert Goldman, who was 20 years old, "ran away from Williams College, where he was a junior," reported The Evening World, "with Edith Ostend, a chorus girl, and they were secretly married in Jersey City."  Goldman's bride was 19 years old.  The marriage did not sit well with her new parents-in-law.

Young Goldman was sent to "Ranch L07," a property in Meeker's, Colorado.  Calling the ranch "his exile," The Evening World explained, "With an English tutor the boy was sent out there to be a cowboy and to forget his costly experience on Broadway."  In the meantime, Henry Goldman had Edith Ostend Goldman trailed.

In court on March 1, 1915, Goldman's private secretary, Chester E. Mann, related that he had headed a raid on the studio of artist Nathan Harris at 66 West 9th Street.  He and the investigators climbed down a fire escape and into a window.  "Mrs. Goldman was sitting on a couch nude with Harris," he testified.  It was the beginning of the end of Robert Goldman's short-lived marriage.

On December 23, 1918, The Evening Post reported, "Mr. and Mrs. Edson Bradley will give a dinner-dance at their apartment at 998 Fifth Avenue on Wednesday evening."  At the time, the Bradleys had homes in Tuxedo Park, Newport, Washington D.C. and on Wellesley Island.  Born in New Canaan, Connecticut, Bradley was married to the former Julia Wentworth Williams.  He succeeded her stepfather, Marshall J. Allen, as president of W. A. Gaines & Co., one of the largest distilleries in the nation.  The dinner dance reported on by The Evening Post was just one of the many glittering events that would be held in their apartment.

The New-York Tribune reported on December 21, 1922, for instance, "Mr. and Mrs. Edson Bradley gave a dinner at their home, 988 Fifth Avenue, last night for Bishop and Mrs. William T. Manning.  Among the guests were their neighbors, Elihu and Clara Root, along with Lady Maitland, the Chauncey Depews, Mrs. Herbert Shipman, and others.

On June 5, 1924, the New York Evening Post reported that the Bradleys had "closed their home at 998 Fifth avenue and are at the Plaza until they go to Newport for the summer."  The couple was in the process of rebuilding their mansion there.

In 1931, the art collection of W. E. Dickerman hung on walls covered in brocaded fabric.  photo by Samuel H. Gottscho, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Other socially prominent residents were Elliot Fitch Shepard, Jr. and his wife, the former Eleanor Leigh Terradell.  Shepard was the son of Elliott Fitch Shepard and Margaret Louisa Vanderbilt, the eldest daughter of William Henry Vanderbilt.  On October 20, 1918, The Sun casually mentioned, "Mrs. Elliott F. Shepard, after passing the summer in the Virginia Hot Springs, has returned to 998 Fifth avenue."

Six months after that article, another Vanderbilt moved into 998 Fifth Avenue.  On April 5, 1919, the Record & Guide reported that Edith Stuyvesant Dresser Vanderbilt, the widow of George Washington Vanderbilt, had leased "a duplex apartment, especially planned, of 18 rooms and 5 baths."

French paneling and frescoed ceilings made way for modern decor in the Edouard Jonas apartment in 1936.  On the walls are Van Gogh's Portrait of a Peasant; Dancers in the Wings by Degas; and Degas's Horse with Head Lowered.  photo by Samuel H. Gottscho, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The following year, in July, apartments were leased to Harriet Smith Van Schoonhoven Thorne and Henry Fairfield Osborn.  Harriet Thorne's husband, millionaire Jonathan Thorne, had died in January that year.  

Henry Fairfield Osborn was born in Fairfield, Connecticut in 1857 to a distinguished family.  His father, William Henry Osborn, was a railroad mogul.  Henry's wife was the former Lucretia Thatcher Perry.  Unlike his industrialist father, Henry pursued an academic career.  He was hired in 1891 as a professor of zoology at Columbia University, and subsequently took the position of curator of the Vertebrate Paleontology Department of the American Museum of Natural History.

Another prominent family here by 1926 were the Lewis Latham Clarkes.  Born in 1871, Clarke descended from William Ellery, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, on his mother's side; and from Emperor Charlemagne and Henry I of England on his father's.  Florence M. Clarke held her own among the socialites in the building in terms of lavish entertaining.

On March 11, 1927, for instance, The New York Times reported that Emilio Axerio, Consul General for Italy had conferred the decoration of Commander of the Order of the Crown of Italy upon Lewis Latham Clarke "at a dinner which Mrs. Clarke gave last night at their home, 998 Fifth Avenue."  The article said, "A musical program and supper followed the dinner."  Among the 52 dinner guests were elite names like Schermerhorn, Mackay, Baruch, Brokaw, and Harriman.  

On April 15, 1912, the year 998 Fifth Avenue was completed, John Jacob Astor IV perished when the RMS Titanic sank.  His pregnant wife, Madeleine was rescued and on August 14 their son, John Jacob Astor VI was born.  Now, three decades later, he moved into a penthouse here after his wife, Ellen, filed for divorce in Reno in the spring of 1943.

A rumor reached The New York Times that Astor was sharing his apartment with a female named Silvia.  As it turned out, however, she was not his latest love interest.  On October 29, 1943, the newspaper reported that Astor's butler had taken Silvia to the Ellin Prince Speyer Hospital for Animals, noting, "it was known at the hospital as 'the penthouse pig.'"  The article described Silvia as, "about nine inches long and about three weeks old."

In the end, an "emphatic" spokesperson for Astor explained that the pig was not a pet, but "one of a litter from Mr. Astor's farm at Basking Ridge, N. J."  Because it was undernourished, "Mr. Astor and his chauffeur drove the pig from the farm to the hospital."  The animal, "had never been domiciled in a penthouse, never had lived on Fifth Avenue, never had been a pet of Mr. Astor," insisted the statement.

One Sylvia who did live at 998 Fifth Avenue was the fascinating Sylvia Green Wilks.  (Her actual name was Harriet Sylvia Ann Howland Robinson Green Wilks, but she was always known as Sylvia.)  The daughter of eccentric multimillionaire Hettie Green, she was the widow of Matthew Astor Wilks, the great-grandson of John Jacob Astor I.  Sylvia Wilks died in the New York Hospital on February 5, 1951 while living here.  She left an estate valued at $94,965,229 (about $1.1 billion in 2024).

In 1953, 998 Fifth Avenue was converted to a cooperative.  The storied building continued to be home to some of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens.  The 16-room John Jacob Astor VI penthouse was acquired by attorney William Condren, who sold it to Archibald Cox, Jr., son of the Watergate prosecutor, in August 1993 for $5.4 million.  It was sold again in 2000.  Among the other residents at the time were Morton Hyman, head of Overseas Shipholding Group; private investor Peter Kimmelman; and zoning attorney Samuel Lindenbaum.  In September 2017, William P. Lauder, executive chairman of the Estée Lauder Companies, purchased a 14-room apartment on the sixth floor for $23.5 million.

photograph by Jay Dobkin

In designating 998 Fifth Avenue an individual landmark in 1974, the Landmarks Preservation Commission called it, "the finest Italian Renaissance style apartment house in New York City."

The Becker Flavoring Extracts Shop - 220 East 81st Street

The Yorkville district developed well before many other Upper East Side neighborhoods.  The Boston Post Road cut through the area and in 1837 the New York and Harlem Railroad was extended along what would become Fourth Avenue, and then later Park Avenue.  Early on the hamlet known as Yorkville sprouted.

By 1844 the streets and avenues were laid out according to the 1811 grid plan; replacing the Boston Post Road with Third Avenue.   The decidedly blue collar residents of the growing neighborhood were mostly German and Irish, workers on the Croton Aqueduct and in the cigar factories and breweries being established here.

In the meantime, H. C. Becker & Co. was producing flavoring extracts by the 1860s.  The highly successful business made its owners financially comfortable by the last decades of the century.

About two decades before H. C. Becker & Co. was established, a 25-foot wide house and store was erected at No. 220 East 81st Street, between Second and Third Avenues.  The modest structure was clad in brick and featured Italianate elements like the molded lintels and the projecting cornice with its simple wooden brackets.

In 1888 L. Arnold lived upstairs and was looking for work.  An advertisement on October 15 read; "Dressmakers--A first-class buttonhole worker and skirt hand wants employment."

Within one or two years Francis C. G. Becker had moved his family into the house and his flavoring extract business into the store.   His son, Frank, Jr., worked in the family business.  The neighborhood, once home only to working class families, was now attracting more moneyed residents.  Becker routinely bought and sold real estate on the side.  The Beckers' uneventful lifestyle was overturned on the evening of October 16, 1890.

The day started out peacefully, with Becker and his son fishing in the Hell Gate section of the East River.  They arrived home around 6:00, had dinner, then the father and son went for a stroll.  And then trouble started.

They turned up Third Avenue and between 85th and 86th Streets, according to Becker, his son "was struck a violent blow on the face from behind."   Frank Becker reacted.  "My son struck back, and I received a blow in return from a man in citizen's clothes whom I found out was Capt. O'Connor."

O'Connor was Captain Richard O'Connor of the Fourth Precinct.  Francis Becker testified later "Officer Keating then seized me by the collar and we were both marched off to the station house.  On the way I saw that my son was suffering, and I said to Officer Keating: 'For God's sake protect my son from that man.  He is my only son.  What have we done to be arrested?'

"When we entered the station-house my son was pushed violently against the railing by Capt. O'Connor, who went behind the desk.  While my son was giving his pedigree, Capt. O'Connor came from behind the desk, and struck me several times on the head."

The Beckers were jailed on charges of disorderly conduct and later fined.  But Francis Becker fought back.   He filed a complaint against Captain O'Connor.  An investigation by Chief Inspector Byrnes found "no grounds for complaint."  But Becker was undaunted.  On March 1, 1891 The New York Times reported "Formal charges were made yesterday by order of the Police Commissioners against Capt. Richard O'Connor" and said "Becker has been so persistent in following up the Captain that the Police Commissioners have determined to put him on trial."

What the Beckers may or may not have known on the night they took their walk was that a labor strike had been taking place against Edelstein's Bakery at No. 1519 Third Avenue.   They had walked into the midst of the turmoil.

According to O'Connor, he was passing the bakery when an employee called him over and said that the boycotters were causing a "great annoyance" to the staff and the customers.  Henriette Riess pointed out Becker and his son as two of the trouble makers.  O'Connor told the court he approached the men to speak to them when "young Becker struck him in the face and knocked his hat off."  He said that when he struck out in self-defense, "both father and son made a combined attack upon him, the elder Becker striking him with his umbrella."  That is when Officer Keating rushed across the avenue to help.

O'Connor's testimony dripped with self-restraint and compassion.  He said that Keating came "with upraised club," but he forbade the officer to strike, "but to arrest."  He positively denied striking Becker or using "any bad language."

Frank Jr. countered on the witness stand saying that he never heard O'Connor restrain Keating; and that on the way to the station house, O'Connor "shoved him violently" saying "You will boycott, will you, you Dutch------!  If it wasn't for the crowd I'd blow your head off.  But wait till I get you inside."

The Beckers brought in eye witnesses, one of whom, Jeremiah Hallahan, said he took "particular notice that the elder Becker's face was swollen and bruised."   But, of course, the defense had its own witnesses.  Sergeant Hoey who was on the desk at the station house corroborated O'Connor's testimony, as did three citizens who lived next door to Edelstein's Bakery.

Most compelling however was a piece of startlingly early forensic evidence.  Becker had the foresight after his release to have his face photographed.   The Evening World noted on March 12, 1891 "A photograph was put in evidence, showing the witness with his face swollen and his shirt and collar torn from his neck."

The 1890s was a time of unbridled graft and corruption among the police.  And so New Yorkers were no doubt not surprised when the charges against Richard O'Connor were dropped and he resumed his duties.

The Becker family moved far from Yorkville, to No. 916 East 156th Street, in 1903.   Benjamin Harrison lived at No. 220 in 1917 when, despite his presidential name, he was committed a very unpatriotic crime.

Harrison was an election official whose responsibility was to count votes.  The election that year was important for New Yorkers, because it would decide who would be the city's mayor.  Harrison favored the incumbent, John Purroy Mitchel, known popularly as the "Boy Mayor of New York."  (He was 34 years old when elected.)

Benjamin Harrison was certainly not alone in his support for the mayor.  Staunchly anti-Tammany, Mitchel was a widely-popular reformer.  The editor of The Nation called him "the ablest and best Mayor New York ever had" and former President Theodore Roosevelt endorsed him, saying he had provided a nearly ideal administration.

But Harrison took his support one step too far.  He changed ballots so that votes cast for William M. Bennett went to Michel.   On April 19, 1918 he was sentenced to five months in prison.  Justice John W. Goff was not only disgusted at Harrison's breach of public trust, but was concerned about the procedure of counting ballots.  He called it "lax" and said "This is a matter of grave public concern and should be immediately attended to."

The house and store was sold in 1921 for $8,500--about $115,000 in today's dollars.  The Herz family resold it three years later to Charles Schaefer.  A plumber, he used the shop for his business for years.

A group of neighborhood schoolboys pose in front of Charles Schaefer's plumbing shop in 1932.  The upper facade has already been coated in stucco.  photo by Charles Von Urban, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

As the upscale tone of the Upper East Side spread eastward in the second half of the century, the upper floors were renovated to a single apartment in 1964.  The former plumbing store became Rogers and Mongio antiques shop by 1972.  John Rogers and Joy Mongio operated a second store in Southampton.

With the AIDS epidemic sweeping America and devastating New York City in 1992, Out of the Closet opened in the store space.  The proceeds from the nonprofit "thrift shop" benefited AIDS-service organizations.  As Times reporter Cara Greenberg, noted on August 30 that year, "the clutter is top drawer."

Indeed, upscale dealers donated museum-worthy items to the cause.  Hubert des Forges gave lamps and furniture, Cotswold Antiques Ltd provided a 19th century English coach print, and auction house William Doyle donated several items for the opening.

In 2004 Craig Wroe in his Living Smart--New York City made note of the dichotomy of donated items.  "The very cramped Out of the Closet Thrift Shop feels like it is really two stores--a thrift shop and an antique emporium."   He noted that in addition to "stuff you'd see in your grandmother's home" were "silver, crystal, china, framed artwork" with prices "on par with local antique dealers."

The store remained until 2007 when Alice's Tea Cup opened in the space.  Its founders, sisters Haley and Lauren Fox, tag it "New York City's most whimsical tea house."

A coat of white paint and black shutters give the 1840s structure a particular charm on the block lined with a potpourri of 19th and 20th century buildings.

photographs by the author

The John Russell Pope House - 4 East 81st Street

Brothers William B. and Ambrose M. Parsons hired architects Thom & Wilson to design a row of 11 brownstone residences on East 81st Street between Fifth and Madison Avenues in 1883.  The high-stooped, neo-Grec homes were completed the following year.

The homes within the ambitious row were intended for financially-comfortable families.   The 20-foot wide, brownstone clad houses were four stories high above an English basement.  Their neo-Grec architecture featured windows with architrave surrounds sitting on diminutive brackets, and handsome sheet metal cornices with four paired brackets.

Rather amazingly, every one of the 11 houses sold within a one week period in April 1884.  Isaac Rosenstein paid $40,850 for No. 4--just over $1 million today.   Rosenstein was the principal in the clothing "ready-made clothing" manufacturer Isaac Rosenstein & Co. at No. 23 White Street.  The firm made boys' and men's shirts for working class customers, such as "cotton shirts, flannel shirts," and "jean shirts."

Like other well-to-do Jewish families, the Rosensteins were limited mainly to Jewish social circles.  They were among the patrons of the lavish ball of the Young Ladies and Gentlemen's League of the Montefiore Home in Carnegie Hall in January 1895.  The New York Times said "The ball promises to be the most brilliant event in Jewish society this season."  Providing the music that evening was Victor Herbert.

The Rosensteins remained in the 81st Street house for 15 years, moving to No. 16 East 96th Street in 1901.  They sold the house in April to the wealthy widow, Mary Herschfield, who lived here quietly until 1905.  That year she sold it to Cornelius Fellowes and his wife, the former Caroline Suydam Whitney.  The couple had two children, 26-year old Cornelius, Jr. and Carolyn Whitney Fellowes, who was 23. 

Fellowes was born in 1840 in Louisville, Kentucky, and was educated at Columbia University.  He amassed his fortune in the stock and cotton brokerage firm of Fellowes, Davis & Co.  He had retired in 1890 and was now best known for his affiliation with the fashionable National Horse Show.  He was also secretary of the Coney Island Jockey Club and rubbed shoulders with other prominent horse owners like August Belmont, William C. Whitney, Pierre Lorillard and Alfred Vanderbilt, just a few of the millionaires The New York Times deemed Fellowes's "intimate friends."

When the Fellowes purchased No. 4 it was decidedly out of fashion, architecturally speaking.  The architectural firm of Foster, Gade & Graham was called in to remedy that problem.  In April 1906 plans were filed.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported on the alterations.  "The rear and front will be enlarged with a 3 and 4-story extension, light shafts, stairs and other interior changes."

At the time the frothy French Beaux Arts style was falling out of favor among wealthy New Yorkers.  Millionaires like Andrew Carnegie and Paul Tuckerman were living in neo-Georgian mansions that hearkened back to Colonial days.  Foster, Gade & Graham's redo of the Fellowes house, completed within the year, would follow the trend.

The stoop was removed and the facade pulled forward to the property line.  The entrance was now located above a shallow stoop, slightly higher than the sidewalk level.   The red brick was laid in Flemish bond, to mimic age, and splayed limestone lintels carried on the early 19th century motif.  Three copper-clad dormers perched on the stone cornice.

The renovations were completed just in time for Carolyn's important society wedding.  On June 9, 1908 she was married in Grace Church.  The reception was held later in the East 81st Street residence.  Society pages were, perhaps, less interested in the bride than the groom.   Richard Lewis Morris was the son of Dr. Stuyvesant Fish Morris.  The separate components of his name alone constituted a significant representation old New York society.

Cornelius Fellowes was suffering from arterio-sclerosis at the time of the wedding.  That winter his health forced him to step down as president of the National Horse Show and as officer in The Jockey Club.  In February 1909 he took a severe turn for the worse, and fell into unconsciousness on April 27.  He died three days later without regaining consciousness.

Caroline did not remain in the house she had planned and shared with her husband.  Beginning in October 1910 she leased it to a succession of well-heeled tenants.  In June 1912 Franklin Delano Williams signed a lease "for a term of years."

Williams was a cotton goods merchant with a highly-interesting background.  He was born in Hong Kong in 1855.  His father, Franklin D. Williams, Sr., was a founder of the China export trading firm Wetmore, Williams & Co.  The family moved to Boston in 1861 where Franklin was educated.  He married Ruth Morse and the couple had one child, Mary Nelson Williams.  She was married in Boston in 1882 to lawyer Henry Ware Putnam.

Williams became a member of the cotton manufacturing firm Wellington, Sears & Co.  The family spent their summers in their Newport estate known as Wyn Wyc Cottage.  When they moved into the 81st Street house they had been living in New York only about three years.

After a lengthy illness, Williams died on February 4, 1914.  Ruth received a trust fund of $100,000, which amounted to nearly $2.5 million in today's dollars.

Caroline Fellowes continued to lease the house.  In 1915 it was rented by J. F. A. Clark, a member of the brokerage firm Clark, Childs & Co.   Like the Williams family, the Clarks summered in Newport.

Caroline Suydam Whitney Fellowes died in her stylish apartment at No. 1049 Park Avenue at the age of 70 on September 22, 1922.   She had sold No. 4 the year before to esteemed architect John Russell Pope.

Even if Pope had not been an acclaimed architect, his and his wife's names would have been well known, socially.  Both Southerners by birth, they were considered by The New York Herald to be "a prominent part in the summer life of Newport."  John's father, also named John, was a successful portrait artist whose subjects included Henry Ward Beecher, actor Edwin Booth, and Secretary of War Edward McMasters.  Sarah Pope was the daughter of millionaire Pembroke Jones and Sarah Wharton Green. 
 
Somewhat interestingly, Pope had also purchased the 50-foot wide lot on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 96th Street around the same time where, according to the New-York Tribune, he "intended to erect a home on the site for his own occupancy."
 
The Popes' change in plans may have had to do with the devastating tragedy which occurred shortly after they took possession of No. 4.   Around the first of March, 1922 little 7-year old Sarah Pope complained of stomach pains.  Within the week, on March 6, she had died of peritonitis.

Rather surprisingly, only five weeks later the house was the scene of the wedding of Sarah Pope's mother.  Pembroke Jones had died in January 1919.  On April 11 Sarah Green Jones married an old family friend, Henry Walters, described by The New York Herald the following day as "railroad executive, yachtsman and noted art connoisseur."

Two years later another family wedding would take place here.  John's sister, Minga, married Robert Halsey Patchin on April 4, 1924.  Both the bride and groom were widowed and the ceremony in the 81st Street house was subdued.  The Times noted that "relatives and a few intimate friends will be present."

On October 6, 1925 Pope received a notable commission when it was reported he had "won the competition for a design for the Roosevelt Memorial to be erected in Washington."  It was the first of several important D.C. structures he would design, including the Jefferson Memorial, the National Archives, and the West Building of the National Gallery of Art.

The Popes' two daughters, Jane and Mary, were in their teens now and were being readied for society.  On April 24, 1930 the New York Evening Post mentioned that the family "are sailing for Europe tomorrow on the Majestic.  They will return the middle of the summer to go to Newport."  The family may have made their trip somewhat short because Mary's 19th birthday was in August and her debut would soon follow.  

John Russell Pope - from the collection of the Library of  Congress

Sarah Walters gave her granddaughter a lavish birthday present in Newport--a new coupe automobile.  One week later, at around 6:00 on the evening of August 18, Mary was driving her new car with Adelaide F. Whitehouse along for the ride.  At the corner of Eustis Avenue and Old Beach Road, she collided with the car driven by James W. Sullivan, Jr.  According to Sullivan's report, after Mary's car struck his, it "swerved and turned over two or three times."  Adelaide was thrown from the car, but Mary was trapped inside.

She suffered a skull fracture and was taken to the Newport Hospital where she died.

Five years later, in August 1935, Jean Landon Pope's debut was celebrated with a ball in August 1935 at the Popes' Newport estate, The Waves.  (John had designed the lavish Newport in 1927.)

On August 27, 1937, John Russell Pope died at the age of 63.  His reputation as an architect was deemed by The Times as "international."  King George VI of Britain referred to his Tate Gallery in London as "the world's finest sculpture gallery."

Sarah inherited the entire estate, valued at $812,974 (around $13.6 million today).  Pope had explained in his will that Jean Landon Pope, his only surviving daughter, "is otherwise provided for" and said "I am confident that my wife will act for her best interests."

A reception was held in the 81st Street house following Jean's wedding to Navy war hero Anthony B. Akers in St. Thomas Episcopal Church on November 28, 1942.  Now alone, Sarah lived on here until 1949 when she sold it to Benjamin Gladwin.  He announced his intentions "for converting [it] into eleven modern apartments."

The renovations were completed in 1950, with two apartments each in the basement through fourth floors, and a single apartment on the fifth.

Outwardly little has changed to the house since Cornelius Fellowes made his dramatic changes in 1906.

photographs by the author

The Oscar Saenger House - No. 6 East 81st Street

Brothers William B. and Ambrose M. Parsons hired architects Thom & Wilson to design a row of 11 brownstone residences on East 81st Street between Fifth and Madison Avenues in 1883.  The high-stooped, neo-Grec homes were completed the following year.

No. 6, just steps from Central Park, was sold to wealthy meat packer Charles White.  The family's new home was four stories tall above the English basement, and its openings were enhanced with distinctive architrave surrounds which included scrolled base supports, Eastlake-style carvings on the brackets and transom panels, and tiered cornices.

Charles White died at the age of 78 on Friday, December 13, 1889.  His funeral was held in the house three days later.  By the turn of the century it appears that the White family was leasing the house; which had become home to William F. Wilson.  He died on June 22, 1903 at the age of 66.

In the meantime, vocal instructor Oscar Saenger and his family were living at No. 51 East 64th Street.  Born in Brooklyn to German-American parents in 1868, he had studied at the National Conservatory of Music of America and in 1891 became the baritone soloist for the New American Opera Company in Philadelphia.  The following year he married organist Nayan (known as Charlotte) Welles.

Saenger gave up the stage to devote himself to coaching.  His tutelage was just one segment of a student's education.  And the proper training for a singing career was both time consuming and expensive.

In 1910 he explained the process in The American History and Encyclopedia of Music.  "Preparation for an operatic career involves a weekly outlay for at least two vocal lessons, two opera class rehearsals, two language lessons, either French, German or Italian, a lesson in stage deportment, one lesson in musical theory and the cost of an accompanist or coach for from four to six hours' private practice."

He said "The pupil who provides wisely must count on spending $1,500 a year for at least two years, to cover the period of preparation."  That would amount to about $38,600 a year today.  Saenger's fees were, apparently, well worth the cost.  The American History and Encyclopedia of Music called him "the wizard of vocal teachers, whose students are to-day the favorites at the great opera houses here and in Europe.  Nothing more valuable than this master's treatment of his subject can be imagined."

In May 1911 Saenger purchased No. 6 East 81st Street from Charles White's daughter, Georgianna, for $75,000 (just under $2 million today).   By now the old brownstones in the Central Park neighborhood were decidedly out of style.  One by one they were being razed or remodeled into modern residences.

Within three months architects Marvin, Davis & Turton had drawn plans for updating the former White house.  The renovations, which would cost $15,000, included rearranging the floorplans and replacing stairs on the interior.  Outside, the stoop would be removed and the facade of the lowest two floors extended to the property line.  Above the extension, the plans called for a third-floor "sleeping porch."

Sleeping porches were important in the decades before air conditioning.  Entire families would move bedding onto the porches to escape the suffocating heat of summer.   But such a "porch" in the Saenger mansion would be highly unusual.  Not only would it be on the front of the house (they were normally hidden in the rear); but it would be a rarity in such a high-end home.  Few wealthy families required a sleeping porch because they closed their mansions and spent their summers in resorts like Newport or Bar Harbor.

But the Saenger family obviously intended to use their house year-round.  The architects were directed to transform the roof--normally disregarded by upscale families--to a garden and entertainment area.

Oddly enough, what appears as an elegant, full-width balcony was termed a "sleeping porch" by the architects.

The remake was somewhat surprising.  The lower two floors, clad in light stone, were modernly neo-Classical.  The entrance was now directly at sidewalk level and the second floor was dominated by three sets of handsome leaded glass French windows below transoms.  They were protected by Adams-style wrought iron railings and separated by Ionic columns and pilasters.  Directly above the hefty cornice at this level was the matching iron railing of the sleeping porch.  Rather startlingly, the renovations stopped here.  The stylish Edwardian transformation stopped short, giving way to the old 1884 facade.

Earlier in 1911 Charlotte celebrated Oscar's birthday.  On January 18, 1911 The Musical Courier reported "Mrs. Oscar Saenger gave a very unique entertainment on Sunday evening, January 8, to celebrate her husband's birthday.  First a dinner served twelve old friends...then later in the evening other friends were bidden.  A program consisting of a dramatic presentation written by their daughter was offered."  It was a foreboding of things to come.

Oscar Saenger's teaching studio was in the 81st Street house and the stream of operatic luminaries who came and went through its doors was impressive.  Many of his students went one to illustrious careers, including Leon E. Rains, the leading basso of the Royal Opera of Dresden; Joseph Regneas (who was so indebted to his coach that his professional name was Saegner spelled backwards); Joseph S. Bernstein; Florence Hinkle; Riccardo Martin; Berenice de Pasquali; and, Metropolitan Opera star Marie Rappold.

Marie Rappold quietly married Rudolf Berger of the Berlin Royal Opera Company (described by The New York Times as "the Kaiser's favorite tenor) on July 2, 1913.   While friends anticipated a wedding on July 3, the groom "objected to a formal wedding" and the couple sneaked away to be married a day early.

Instead of attending a wedding, the newlyweds' friends arrived at the Saenger house "where an informal reception in the gardens on the roof awaited the bride and bridegroom on their return from New Jersey," reported The Times.

The soprano told reporters that the hurried affair caused at least one near disaster.  In rushing to New Jersey, Berger had forgotten the ring.  A friend, Rudolf Witrofsky of Berlin came to the rescue.  "He was wearing a heavy gold band ring, and he suggested that I borrow the ring for the occasion," Marie explained.  "It was a little large, but I took the ring, and then the man married us."

In 1916 Oscar Saenger devised an ingenious marketing scheme to teach vocal lessons to the masses.  He teamed with the Victor Talking Machine Co. to produce a set of ten records, described as "a complete course in vocal training."  A separate set was offered for Soprano, Mezzo-Soprano, Tenor, Baritone, and Bass.  A Victrola advertisement noted "The Oscar Saenger Course in Vocal Training for any of the voices mentioned above, may be procured from any Victor dealer at $25--the cost of a one-hour lesson at the Saenger Studio in New York."

In 1917 Oscar Saenger posed with his own Victrola player between him and a student in the second floor studio here.  Note the small-paned leaded windows which survive.  photo from the collection of the Library of Congress.

The income from his private sessions and his Victor records was much needed.  The Saengers' daughter, who had taken the professional name of Khyva St. Albans, still had dreams of being a famous playwright and actress.  Oscar funded elaborate productions, none of which made his daughter a star.

The Saengers had a houseguest in the form of Swami Paramahansa Yogananda who established his headquarters here for a some time.  The mystic guri arrived from India in 1920 to introduce westerners to eastern meditation and philosophy.  He attracted a following among the opera set, including tenor Vladimir Rosing, soprano Amelita Gali-Curci, and aspiring singer Clara Clemens Gabrilowitsch, daughter of Samuel Clemens.  And, obviously, Oscar Saenger.

As Charlotte and Khyva traveled in their expensive attempt to establish Khyva's career, Oscar was diagnosed with cancer in 1927.  Reportedly at the Swami's suggestion he was moved to the Washington Sanitarium in Washington, DC.   He died there on April 20, 1929 at the age of 60. His body was returned to the 81st Street house where Swami Yogananda performed the funeral services.  (Oddly enough, not long afterward Khyva accused the Yogananda, the never-ending house guest she and her mother had brought into the picture, of taking advantage of them and ordered him out.)

Music lovers nationwide were most likely shocked when, a month after Saenger's death, the details of his estate were publicized.  While the famous and beloved instructor had left generous bequests--like the $2,000 "equivalent of a year's salary, to 'my faithful secretary,' Lillian Suwalsky"--Khyva's dreams of acting fame had drained the family's finances.  The New York Times reported "The estate of Oscar Saenger...may be too small to carry out bequests."  It noted that Charlotte "may receive not more than $500."

Charlotte and Khyva left East 81st Street, which was sold for unpaid taxes.  Khyva never gave up; and eventually reinvented herself as an American born Russian ballerina with the name Zara Alexeyewa Khyva St. Albans.

The Depression years were not kind to the former Saenger house and in 1935 it was repossessed by the Bank for Savings.  It was vacant six years later when a builder purchased it "for remodeling into a ten-family house," according to The New York Times on October 20, 1941.  The announcement placed the cost of renovations, resulting in two apartments per floor, at $25,000.

Among the residents here in 1973 were 20-year old Linda Rubin and 35-year old Robert Antonelli.  The pair joined a daring scheme in September that year when they and three others climbed a drain pipe and broke a window to the second floor apartment of Peter Salm at No. 9 East 68th Street.  An heir to a Standard Oil Company fortune, Salm owned an impressive art collection.

Salm was gone during the weekend of September 22 and 23; giving the burglars plenty of time.  The heist, spurred by art dealer Jean Zimmerman, who owned the Gregoire Galleries on Madison Avenue, totaled 32 paintings.  The crooks did not enjoy their spoils long.  A week later police recovered seven of the paintings, valued at $200,000, and arrested all six persons involved.

In 1998 the Saenger residence was reconverted to a single family home.  The house with the colorful history and a split personality facade survives much as it looked when one of America's most notable operatic coaches made his mark on it in 1911.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Steve Best for suggesting this post

The Seymour Strauss Mansion -- No. 18 East 81st Street

While the architectural partnership of Arthur M. Thom and James W. Wilson would produce some prominent civic structures, among them the 1894 Manhattan Criminal Courts building and the Harlem Courthouse; they were best known for their rows of brownstone-fronted homes.  In 1883 construction began on one such project, on 81^st Street between Fifth and Madison Avenues.

The Italianate-style residences were four stories tall above an English basement.  Their identical high stone stoops lined up, creating a regimented residential block similar to scores of others throughout the better neighborhoods of New York.  The houses were commissioned by developer brothers Ambrose and William Parsons and completed in 1884.

Among the row was No. 18.  The Parsons brothers sold it to real estate operator Isaac Phillips, who purchased it as an investment.  He resold it a few months later to Henry Werner and his wife, Sarah.  Born in Prussian, Werner had come to New York when he was 13 years old.  A well-known dealer in hides and leather since 1864, his office was at No. 26 Spruce Street.  The couple had six children and had been living on East 65^th Street, near Lexington Avenue until now.

Werner's partner, Simon Strauss, lived in Europe and handled the buying of goods, mostly in Germany and France.  The success of their enterprise was evidenced in 1886 when they reported doing $3 million in business—more in the neighborhood of $78 million in 2016.

The Werners’ stay in their comfortable new home would last just over a decade.   On Sunday May 8, 1898 Henry died in the house at the age of 56 from what The New York Times deemed “a complication of diseases.”  His funeral was held in the parlor at 10:00 a.m. two days later.

The house became home to Charles and Rosine Cahn.  The couple lived quietly on East 71^st Street, their names appearing in society pages only to report their arrival each summer in some fashionable Catskills resort hotel.   Six years after Henry Werner’s, the funeral of Rosine Cahn was held in the house on June 30, 1904.

At the time of Rosine’s death changes were taking place in the Central Park-Fifth Avenue neighborhood.  Manhattan’s mansion district, formerly firmly ensconced below 59^th Street, now stretched for blocks beyond 81^st Street.  The new lavish marble and limestone facades shamed the traditional, cookie-cutter brownstones.

The Cahn residence was only 22 years old when, on November 3, 1906, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported “The 4-story dwelling, 18 East 81^st st, is to be remodeled into an American basement.  Possession to the property will not be taken until May 1, 1907.”

While the new owners, Seymour and Ada Strauss, waited for Charles Cahn to vacate, they commissioned the architectural firm of Cleverdon & Putzel to draw up plans for the remodeling.  The architects would strip off the brownstone façade and remove the stoop, allowing them to pull the front wall to the property line.  This provided a significant increase in living space within.

When renovations were completed late in 1907, there was no hint of the former Victorian rowhouse.   The elegant French residence, now clad in white limestone, held its own with the Fifth Avenue mansions around the corner.  Cleverdon & Putzel managed to bring the richness of the Beaux Arts style to the design while resisting the temptation of excess ornamentation. 

The double-doored entrance was centered between two hefty scrolled console brackets which supported a stone balcony at the parlor level.  Handsome carvings embellished the openings and brackets.  Above the elaborately-carved cornice rose the copper-covered mansard, interrupted by two hefty hooded dormers.

Seymour A. Strauss was associated with the men’s and boys’ clothing manufacturer Heidelberg, Wolff & Co. located at No. 644 Broadway.  The fact that his father-in-law, Isaac N. Heidelberg, was a partner in the firm was, no doubt, not a coincidence.  The Strausses had two daughters, Margaret and Ethel.

The entrance was originally centered, where the confusing window now appears.

Ada Heidelberg Strauss was accustomed to living comfortably.  Her father’s fortune was estimated at just under $1 million.  Marriage had not changed that.  The family maintained a summer estate, called Breezypoint Camp, at Lake Placid.  During the winter season, as was the case with wives of other wealthy businessmen, Ada busied herself with philanthropies and teas while Seymour worked.

In the spring of 1914 Ada Strauss traveled to Berlin to take part in the week-long benefit activities of the American Woman’s Club there.  On April 25 The New York Times reported “Frivolity was announced to be the leit motif of the dansant and cabaret held at the Hotel Adlon this week.”   As a side note, the newspaper mentioned “The town continues to fill up with American tourists, who have found Berlin this week immersed in sunshine and an almost homelike humidity.”

The American visitors, including Ada Strauss, would not be coming back to Berlin for many years.  Two months later the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand triggered the outbreak of war.

International conflict could not stop romance, however; and in May 1917 The American Jewish Chronicle reported that Seymour and Ada had announced the engagement of Margaret Virginia Strauss to Robert I. Plaut.  Within the month the couple was married at the Plaza Hotel and left for a “motor honeymoon” through the Berkshires.

Ethel became engaged in August 1924.  In reporting the event, The Times mentioned, Miss Strauss is spending the Summer with her parents at their country home.

When Ada died in the 81^st Street mansion early on the morning of May 1, 1929, Seymour Strauss was left alone with only the company of his domestic staff.   Nevertheless, he remained here another seven years, finally selling it in May 1936 to William Kingsland Macy and his wife, Julia.

Macy, known familiarly as “King,” had been a wholesaler and importer.  But with the outbreak of war he had served with the United States Food Administration and the War Trade Board from 1917 to 1919.  Following the war he was president of the Union Pacific Tea Co.    

Wm. Kingsland Macy -- from the collection of the Library of Congress

His wife came from one of New York’s wealthiest and most prominent families.  Julia’s grandfather, William Dick, had made a fortune in sugar refining.    Her brother, William Karl Dick, drew attention to the family name on June 22 1916 when he married Madeleine Astor, the widow of John Jacob Astor IV who was lost in the RMS Titanic disaster.

William Kingsland Macy’s career went in a radically-different direction after moving into the 81^st Street house.  He was already involved in politics and had served as a delegate to the Republican National Convention in 1928.  Politics were now becoming his life’s work.

The year the family moved into No. 18, he was an integral part of the investigation of the New York State Banking Department.  In 1931 he was active in promoting the Seabury inquiry regarding the political operations of New York City. 

In October 1937 William and Julia announced the engagement of their daughter, Julia Kingsland Macy, to W. Cary Potter.  The Times took the opportunity to detail her impressive social pedigree.  “She is a niece of Mrs. Horace Havemeyer, Mrs. Irving K. Hall, Dick and Adolph M. Dick, and is the sister of William Kingsland Macy Jr. and J. H. Dick Macy.”  Her fiancé was the grandson of the famous and powerful Episcopal Bishop Henry Codman Potter, once as central in society as any Astor or Vanderbilt.

Things did not work out for the Potters, and a just a few months after their Reno divorce in the summer of 1945, Julia married Air Force pilot Lt. Charles H. Thieriot, Jr. in September.  This ceremony was, understandably, less elaborate and took place in the 81^st Street mansion “in the presence of immediate relatives.”

The following year William Kingsland Macy was elected to the New York State Senate.  He would remain a force in Republic politics until 1951; his first defeat for reelection coming in 1950.  When Macy stepped down from the political spotlight, he and Julia left East 81^st Street as well.

In 1951 the mansion was converted to apartments.  The central entrance was removed and converted to a window.  It was an understandable and unsuccessful attempt to disguise the alteration.  In 1976 designer Ward Bennett was commissioned to re-do the interiors of one apartment in his contemporary, distinct style.  The 1907 details were stripped out and the apartment was given his starkly sleek signature.

Nothing remains of the Cleverdon & Putzel interiors in this apartment.  photo Observer

Despite the lost doorway and the replacement windows, the elegant Beaux Arts townhouse looks from the street much as it did when Seymour and Ada Strauss gave an unexceptional brownstone a most exceptional make-over in 1907.

photographs by the author