The Belmont Garage - 113-115 East 84th Street

By the early 1880s well-to-do families were moving northward into comfortable brownstone rowhouses east of Central Park.  While the wealthiest of these constructed private carriage houses near their mansions; others required boarding stables for their vehicles and horses.  In response, George J. Baab demolished two old houses at Nos. 113 and 115 East 84th Street in the spring of 1884 to make way for a new stables.

The site was well chosen, sitting between Park and Lexington Avenues at a time when the railroad down Park Avenue literally defined the right and wrong side of the tracks.  A boarding stable here would be conveniently close its clients' homes; yet unobtrusively east of Park Avenue.

Baab, who was a dentist, was familiar with the neighborhood.  He lived and worked at No. 164 East 83rd Street.  Baab hired architect John McIntyre to design the 51-foot wide stables.

The completed structure cost the dentist $12,000--or around $300,000 today.  McIntyre's handsome design relied mainly on brick for ornamentation.  The skinny, stylish openings and the twin carriage bays of the ground floor were traced in projecting brick.  Brick modillions lined up below the thin stone cornice that introduced the upper floors.  The elliptically arched upper windows wore brick eyebrows.  A complex stepped corbel table supported the parapet with its decorative pediment.

Baab's boarding stable was leased to a proprietor as he focused on his dental practice.  His brother, Frank, was studying dentistry in 1891 and was at Baab's office, alone, when a young woman entered.  She told him she had a decayed wisdom tooth which was causing her intense pain.  She insisted she did not want it pulled; but wanted something to ease the pain.

The dental student felt he could handle the case without waiting for his brother.  He directed the patient into the chair.  According to Items of Interest (a monthly magazine for the dental trade) in July 1891, "She was very nervous, and young Mr. Baab had just put his finger on the tooth when it gave a throb that caused her jaws to join each other with great speed.  They were stopped by Mr. Baab's finger."

The woman's bite drew blood and no doubt mortified, "She said her tooth was better and went away."  Frank Baab's bite wound healed, but a few days later "the young man's jaw worked as if it needed oiling."   George Baab called in a doctor, who diagnosed his brother with impending lockjaw.  By now he could no longer walk and his chances of recovery looked slim.  Eventually, however, he beat the odds (at the time only 10 to 15 percent of lockjaw patients were healed).

William H. Merriam ran a livery stable further downtown at No. 142 Park Avenue as late as 1894.  He moved to the 84th Street building, most likely to expand his business.  It turned out to be a bad idea.  On April 15, 1898 Deputy Sheriff Radley received executions for $2,091 against Merriam; and 12 days later he "sold out" the liveryman's carriages and horses.

At the turn of the century the Star Stable was leasing the building from the Baab family.   On the morning of February 27, 1906 two men, Edward Klein and Michael Yagle, rented a runabout (a light buggy) and horse.  The commonplace transaction turned out to be anything but.

Klein and Yagle leased a buggy similar to this.

The next day The New York Times reported "It was a big black horse named Billy that caused the trouble."  As the men were driving along 58th Street between Sixth and Seventh Avenue, the buggy's front axle broke, spooking the horse.  "In three jumps Billy changed his gait from an easy trot to a full gallop."  Klein was at the reins and nothing he could do could control the horse.

When they crashed into a light wagon at Seventh Avenue, both Klein and Yagle were thrown out.  Although bruised and dazed, they got up in time to see Billy crash into another vehicle at Eighth Avenue, then continue on.

"The horse was blind with fright, and took no account of a big van drawn by two horses advancing in his path," wrote the newspaper.  A terrific crash followed, shattering the pole and knocking the horses to the ground.  Although the van men were only slightly hurt, their horses were not so lucky.  "The splinters of the pole pricked their skins, and the kicks of Billy, who had maintained his footing, added to their discomfort."  Even this did not stop Billy.

Untangling himself, he bolted westward.  And then the episode became even wilder.

Producers Williams and Walker were staging a show at the Majestic Theatre that included eight donkeys.  A group of boys was leading them toward the theater just as Billy came galloping toward them.  As The Times put it, they "interfered with the runaway's progress."

When the horse banged into one of the donkeys as he flew past, the animal "kicked up its heels, threw off the small boy leading it, and, with ears laid low, headed straight for the Subway kiosk."  The donkey charged down the stairs, barely missing a woman carrying her baby, and made for the platform.  Subway employees encircled and calmed the animal "as soon as they saw that the donkey was not a passenger in disguise."

In the meantime, Billy was still terrorizing the streets above.  Despite the buggy shafts, some splinters from the previous crash, and leather straps dangling from him, he charged full speed through traffic and pedestrians.  Policemen in pursuit yelled ahead to warn children playing in Billy's path, and at one point he barely missed a collision with a street car.

Finally, a freight train rumbling along Eleventh Avenue proved too much of an obstacle.  A policeman grasped him by the bridle, "the only whole piece of horse equipment left," and the excitement came to and end.

By 1908 automobiles were edging out horse-drawn vehicles as the preferred mode of transportation.  In February that year Mary Baab hired architect J. W. O'Connor to update the building to accommodate motor vehicles.  The $3,000 in renovations for the lessee, The Belmont Garage, included reinforced concrete beams.

Later that year, on Sunday morning, November 22, banker Leo Speyer was informed that his expensive automobile "was found piled up in the gutter in front of the Plaza Hotel," according to The Evening World a few days later.  "One of the wheels was broken and whoever had taken it out evidently had a good time."  The driver who had a good time was not Speyer, who had until then assumed his vehicle was safely parked in the Belmont Garage.

The mystery deepened that afternoon when Linsday Tappan, a partner in the law firm Tappan & Bennett, send his chauffeur to pick up his car at the garage.  It was not there.

Detectives Barbieri and Haggerty brought Michael Keene into the Jefferson Market Court on November 24.  He was the foreman at the Belmont Garage.  When the detectives arrested him at his home that morning, he confessed to having taken both cars on joy rides.

As amazing as the survival of McIntyre's 1884 elements--the large fanlight and brickwork, for instance-- is the century-old black-and-gold garage sign.

The Baab family still owned Nos. 113-115 East 84th Street when Mary Baab renewed Belmont's lease in 1918.  The company was paying $6,500 a year rent at the time, or about $8,500 per month today.

Chauffeurs at the time were necessarily mechanics as well.  One apparently lost his job in 1920 and used the Belmont Garage as his address for potential employers.  His advertisement in The Sun on September 5 read: "Chauffeur-Mechanic, Japanese, long experience, first class, Fiat, Renault, Lancia, Loco., Cadillac, wishes position private; city, country; highest reference; sober, capable, Japanese chauffeur."

More than a century after Mary Baab renovated the 84th Street building for the Belmont Garage it is still here.  Other than the gaping entrance at ground level, little has changed to McIntyre's livery stable design.

photographs by the author

Olde England off the Park -- 17 East 84th Street

Having learned his trade in the architectural office of his father, George Brown Pelham, George Fred Pelham opened his own office in 1890.   His son, George Fred Pelham, Jr., joined the firm in 1910. 

Pelham's designs for apartment buildings, rowhouses and hotels were impressive; but not especially out of the ordinary.  He routinely turned to the same historic styles being used by any number of New York architects--Renaissance Revival and Gothic Revival, for instance.  

In 1922 the Sagamore Realty Co. commissioned Pelham to design a half-million dollar apartment house in Bronxville, New York.  His neo-Tudor fantasy was a striking blend of half-timbering, rubble stone and slate tiling.

Pelham's rendering of the Bronxville project had noticeable similarities to 17 East 84th Street.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, October 7, 1922

Simultaneously, the architect was working on plans for a nine-story apartment building for the 2069 Broadway Corp, to be erected at Nos. 17 and 19 East 84th Street.  Designed in what the Record & Guide called "the style of Elizabethan period of English architecture," the upscale structure would share many of the charming details of its Bronxville cousin.

Completed in 1923, the $300,000 building (around $4.2 million today) was intended for the wealthy residents of the mansion-filled block.  There were just two apartments per floor, each containing five to seven rooms, along with a sprawling penthouse.

The two-story base was faced in rough-cut stone.  Here the slightly off-centered doorway was balanced by a matching, pointed-arched window.  Centered above was a carved coat of arms of two rampant lions flanking a crown-topped shield--the product of a designer's romantic imagination.

Above a projecting stone bandcourse the facade separated into two distinct but equally-charming sections.  To the west, stucco and copper-clad half-timbering created a Tudor cottage effect.  Behind the acute gable was a slate-tiled mansard.  The more severe section to the east was faced in ruddy Flemish bond brick.  Its top two floors, Elizabethan-fashion, were outlined in stone quoins.  A castellated parapet sat ready for pouring boiling oil on unwelcome invaders of East 84th Street.

As the building neared completion, a sign advertised apartments "7 Rooms, 3 Baths; 6 Rooms, 2 baths." from the collection of the New York Public Library

No. 17 quickly became home to some of New York's most recognized names in society.  George Leary, Jr. had grown up in privilege.  The family mansion was at No. 1053 Fifth Avenue and young George was well-known among the yachting and tennis set on Long Island.  His parents' Southampton summer home, Hawthorne House, was completed in 1920.  Gossip, the "International Journal of Society," called it "a pretentious affair so far as spacious grounds and larges rooms on the inside of the house are concerned."

Following George's fashionable wedding to Sarah Thomson in St. Patrick's Cathedral (performed by Archibishop Patrick Hayes, later Cardinal Hayes), the couple moved into No. 17 East 84th Street.  They remained here for years.  Despite the spacious proportions of their apartments, the guest list for the dinner and dancing to celebrate their anniversary in 1925 required larger accommodations.

Dinner was served in a private suite of the Park Lane Hotel.  "The dance followed in the Tapestry Room," reported The New York Times, "the guests for it coming on from other dinners."  Those guests bore the surnames of some of Manhattan's most elite: Dodge, Remsen, Brokaw and Goodhue among them.

Several renowned publishers and physicians were early residents.  Perhaps the most famous doctor was Bela Schick, who married Catharine C. Frieds in 1925.  The couple would live at No. 17 for decades.

A pediatrician, Schick's name lives on in the Schick Test which essentially brought an end to diphtheria as a fatal disease to thousands of children annually.  But he was also known for his touching ability to relate to his young patients.  The New York Times noted later "Visitors to a sick child in the hospital were often astonished to see the distinguished-appearing Dr. Schick in a white medical jacket squatting on the floor, his hands sticking up from his head like ears, waggling his fingers."

Although he and Catharine never had children, he held firm opinions as to their rearing.  In his 1932 book Child Care Today, he offered guidance to parents like "Love the child--that is the most important implement of discipline," and "The attitude of parents toward sex education may be summed up in these words: No emphasis and no secrecy."

It was not all work for Schick.  He and Catharine routinely appeared at concerts and traveled frequently.

Among the prominent publishers in the building was Pascal Covici, of Covici, Friede, Inc.  In 1928 he was dismayed at the Government's censorship of D. H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover.  Considered pornographic, it was banned in the United States.  But before the Custom House began confiscating the book, Covici had acquired a copy.

He wrote to the author, saying in part "Sincerely, I believe it to be the most vital piece of fiction I have read in the last ten years.  It would be a tragic loss to literature if your book would not be brought out in some way or other in America."

The phrase "in some way or other" was significant.  He offered to publish Lady Chatterly's Lover in the U.S. "if some of the phrases that seem to offend out Custom House officials were taken out."

The Great Depression had little effect on the upscale building.  In 1938 management reported that it was fully rented and had been for the four previous years.  Nevertheless, in November 1941 the building's owners, the Harlem Savings Bank, announced that architect J. M. Berlinger had been hired to remodel the penthouse "into two three-room apartments."

The elderly Sarah Wisner Lockwood had been living alone here since her husband's death in 1927.  I. Ferris Lockwood had been bursar of the New York Public Library.  Sarah was well-known for her charity work and had founded the New York branch of the Girls Friendly Society in 1894.

The Lockwood's daughter, Priscilla, had married Alfred F. Loomis in Grace Church on June 5, 1921.  Perhaps because of her mother's advancing age, the Loomis family moved into the building from their home at No. 122 East 76th Street in 1941.  Loomis, like George Leahy, Jr., was well-known in yachting circles.  He was the author of several books on sailing and his various vessels, docked near their country estate, The Orchard, in Huntington, Long Island, raced regularly in regattas.

Sarah Wisner Lockwood died in her apartment on October 24, 1944 at the age of 94.  Her son-in-law, Alfred, was serving as a commander in the U.S. Naval Reserves in the war at the time.

The Loomis family would remain in the building for years; their names appearing regularly in the society columns.  The children received the upbringing expected in wealthy families.  Sarah, known as Sally, debuted in the ballroom of the Cosmopolitan Club on November 2, 1946.  She attended the exclusive Chapin School, then Bryn Mawr College, and was, of course, a member of the Junior League.

Sarah's brother, Alfred Worthington Loomis, was married to Louise Harding Earle in St. John's Protestant Episcopal Church in Cold Spring Harbor, Long Island, in May 1950.  The same church was the setting of Sarah's wedding the following year, in April, to Ward Clarke Campbell.


On November 19, 1967 while Bela and Catharine Schick were on a cruise to South America, the doctor was stricken with pleurisy.  He was brought back to New York on November 30 and he died exactly one week later at the age of 90.  The distinguished couple had lived in what The Times called their "spacious apartment" for approximately four decades.

George Fred Pelham's quaint apartment house is little changed since it elbowed itself in among private mansions in 1923.  A modern awning obscures the details of the entrance; but overall its charming personality survives.

photograph by the author

The King Mansions - 16 to 20 East 84th Street

When Daniel Leroy and is wife, the former Susan Elizabeth Fish moved permanently from their elegant home at 20 St. Marks Place to Newport, their daughter Mary Augusta was still in her teens.  In 1849, when she was 20 years old, she married another Newport resident, Edward King.

King had already made a fortune in the China Trade, dealing in tea and silk, and had extensive real estate holdings both in Newport and New York City.  The King mansion, design by Richard Upjohn in 1845 and completed in 1847, was the largest and most impressive house in Newport at the time.

The Edward King house in Newport -- Architecture of Country Houses, 1850 (copyright expired)

When Edward died in September 1875, The New York Times remarked "His wealth is estimated at $5,000,000."  The massive estate would equal about $111 million today.  The article added "a wife and eight children survive him."

Before the century was out, Mary Augusta King would repeatedly attend the funerals of her children.  Both Edward and Elizabeth died in 1878, Alexander in 1885, and Leroy in December 1895.

In 1897 Mary Augusta purchased plots at Nos. 16, 18 and 20 East 84th Street, between Fifth and Madison Avenues, from Frederick A. Constable.  The following year she transferred the titles to her two children--George and Edith (who had married Louis Butler McCagg in 1892), and to Leroy's widow, Ethel Rhinelander King.

On April 30, 1899 architects Clinton & Russell filed plans for three separate mansions--each to cost $40,000 (in the neighborhood of $1.2 million today).   The plans listed the owners as George G. King at No. 16, Edith E. McCagg at No. 18, and Ethel R. King at No. 20.

Completed in 1900, the three harmonious homes melded neo-Georgian and neo-Federal elements--harbingers of the domestic architectural trend soon to come in New York.  Somewhat surprisingly, Nos. 18 and 20 were designed as balanced, mirror image mansions; while George's house seemed the uncomfortable tag-along.

Edith's and Ethel's homes were mirror images.

Above the planar limestone bases, all three houses were clad in Flemish bond red brick.  They shared matching stone cornices and similar Ionic Scamozzi porticoes.  A common balustrade ran along the roofline, behind which were copper-clad dormers.  But there the uniformity ended.

Nos. 18 and 20 shared a handsome neo-Federal balcony that stretched the width of both houses.  The architrave surrounds of the second and third floor openings were carved with neo-Georgian motifs of swags and classical urns.   The windows of No. 16 were noticeably different, with bold brackets upholding prominent cornices.  Too, unlike the arched doorways of its neighbors, entrance of No. 16 was rectangular, and the carved swags above it much less elaborate.  Even the areaway ironwork of George King's house had nothing in common with Nos. 18 and 20.

George Gordon King's mansion had its own personality.

The fortunes of all three families were substantially increased following Mary Augusta's death in May 1905.  After generous bequests were made to various institutions, like the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, her estate was divided equally among George, Ethel and Edith.

Interestingly, six years after the families moved in, on June 30, 1906, the Record and Guide reported that architects Robertson & Potter had drawn plans "for extensive alterations to the two 6-sty dwellings 18-20 East 84th st. for Louis B. McCagg, 18 West 84th st, and Mrs. Le Roy King."  What the extensive alterations are is unclear, but obviously George King did not join in the project.

The families lived harmoniously side-by-side for decades, each entertaining in grand style.   As with all wealthy families, the introductions of their daughters involved glittering events.  On April 16, 1911, The New York Times announced that Mrs. George Gordon King would be giving a dance in the house for "the Misses King."  In December 1913 the first of the receptions for Augusta McCagg were held next door at No. 18; and on in November 1914 Annie King gave a tea dance in No. 16 to introduce Violet.

Ethel's sister, Helen, had married Archdeacon Lewis Cameron.  Following their deaths, Ethel took their daughter, also named Helen, into her 84th Street home.  Her debutante reception was held here on November 27, 1916.

Ethel's family saw a flurry of weddings and receptions beginning on December 4, 1920.  A reception was held in the house following the wedding of Ethel's niece, Frederica Rhinelander, to Harold Morton Landon in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.  Five months later Ethel's son, Le Roy, was married to Mary Isabel Lockwood in a fashionable St. George's Church ceremony.  The New-York Tribune called the wedding "brilliant" and noted "It was attended by prominent members of New York society and the Newport set."  Then, on December 12 that same year, Helen Cameron married Reginald Bishop Lanier in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.  The reception was held in the 84th Street mansion.

In the meantime, all three families carried on their social routines; summering in Newport or traveling to Europe.  On October 14, 1921, for instance, the New-York Tribune announced "Mrs. George Gordon King and her daughters, Miss Dorothy Gordon King and Miss Violet Gordon King, who were abroad throughout the summer and early fall, have returned and are at their home, 16 East Eighty-fourth Street."

Not long after the women returned home, George Gordon King fell ill.  He died in the 84th Street mansion on March 30, 1922 at the age of 64.  His multi-million dollar estate, like his mother's, included large bequests to religious institutions.  Annie received all of the real estate and $10,000 in cash.  The children, Violet, Edward and Dorothy (all of whom still lived at No. 16) received $25,000 each--about a third of a million in today's dollars.

The King family's ownership of the three houses was soon to come to an end.  On May 12, 1925 Ethel died in No. 20.  Although the family had built the Chapel of St. Columba in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, her funeral service was held in the Chapel of St. Ansgarius because it was larger and could accommodate the many mourners.

Louis Butler McCagg had been retired from his legal practice almost since moving into No. 18 East 84th Street.  He and Edith focused their attention instead on philanthropies and social life.   The couple was at their Newport villa, Morning Side, on September 20, 1929 when son Edward arrived from New York to spend the weekend.

Louis was not at home.  He had gone out on his customary walk after breakfast.  When he had not returned by noon, family members went out to look for him.  Edward was joined by the family physician, Dr. Charles D. Easton.  The two men found McCagg's body on the shore at the foot of the cliffs.

A special report to The New York Times said "The belief is that Mr. McCagg, who was subject to dizziness, was walking along the rocks and fell, striking his head, and toppled into the water.  The tide was high at the time."  McCagg died from accidental drowning.

The George Gordon King mansion had become home to Alfred Barmore Maclay, his wife the former Louise Fleischmann, and their daughter Georgiana, by the late 1930s.  Mcclay's collection of Early American glass was well known; but it was his passion for thoroughbred horses for which he was famous.  The president of the American Horse Show Association, his summer estate Killearn Farm on Long Island, was often the scene of horse shows.

Following Ethel King's death No. 20 was leased before becoming home to the Charles Howland Russell, Jr. family in the mid-1930s.  As it had been during Ethel's life, it continued to be the scene of society events.  On October 17, 1939, for instance, The New York Times reported "Mrs. Charles Howland Russell, Jr. gave a tea yesterday at her home, 20 East Eighty-fourth Street, for several young women of society."

Three years later, with World War II raging in Europe, she hosted a meeting of the Women's Council of the Navy League.  More than 100 women were present in the mansion that afternoon.

The first of the mansions to be converted to apartments was No. 16.  Alfred Maclay died on May 27, 1944 and his estate sold the house in May the following year.  The New York Times said "There are twenty-two rooms and five baths at present in the house, which contains an electric elevator."  The new owners announced plans for altering the mansion "into a twelve-family building with suites of one and two rooms."

In 1948 No. 18 was converted to two apartments per floor; and the following year No. 20 followed suit with two apartments on each level.  While the lower four floors of Nos. 18 and 20 remained little changed; gruesome picture windows upset the balance and integrity of the George Gordon King house.  In all three cases the penthouse additions are architecturally barbaric.

photographs by the author

The Ogden Mills Reid Mansion - No. 15 East 84th Street

Ambrose Lanfear Norrie came from a wealthy family.  His father, Gordon, owned copper and nickel mines and the family mansion sat at No. 377 Fifth Avenue.  So society's attention was piqued when Ethel Lynde Barbey's parents, traveling in Paris, announced her engagement to Norrie on May 15, 1895.  Ethel was the daughter of Henry and Mary Barbey.  Her maternal grandparents were Peter Lorillard and Catherine Griswold, who came from two of the wealthiest and most venerable of New York families.

Norrie quickly took steps to provide a suitable home for his new bride.  The former house of General James Grant Wilson, at No. 15 East 84th Street, was demolished and the esteemed architectural firm of Renwick, Aspinwall & Owen was put to work designing a fine mansion spanning the plots at Nos. 13 and 15.

Architectural Record, December 1903 (copyright expired)

Completed in 1899, the limestone villa rose four stories.  The architects cleverly provided an abundance of light and ventilation by setting the entrance far back from the property line--creating an L-shaped structure.  A glass and wrought iron canopy--looking much like a porte cochere--protected visitors from the elements along the walk from sidewalk to doorway.

A crisp cornice above the first floor supported a handsome projecting band that simulated a balustrade.  The viewer's eye was drawn to fourth floor where an arcade of arched openings wrapped the facade.  Each window was separated by elaborate, overblown iron brackets that supported an overhanging tiled roof which evinced a Mediterranean flavor.

Visitors entered the stained-glass filled vestibule.  Architectural Record, December 1903 (copyright expired)

Norrie was educated as a mining engineer, and was a director of the Buffalo, Rochester & Pittsburgh Railway Company, and of the Ohio Mining and Manufacturing Company.  He owned large interests in the Norrie mines and in iron and coal mines.  But business was not his focus.  He was better known as a "club man," holding memberships in the exclusive Union, Calumet, Metropolitan, Down Town, Riding, Racquet and Tuxedo Clubs.

The "hallway" had a rather man-cave atmosphere.  Architectural Record, December 1903 (copyright expired)

The Norries's names appeared in newspapers only for social reasons.  They summered both in Newport and in in "Pequot Colony," in New London, Connecticut; and traveled to Europe.  (Ethel's sister, Helene was the Countess Hermann de Pourtales; and her sister Eva was Baroness de Neuflize.)  The guest list at Ethel's many dinners and receptions at No. 15 East 84th Street included some of the most recognized names in Manhattan society.

The ballroom (here furnished as a drawing room) was French in decor.  Architectural Record, December 1903 (copyright expired)

On December 11, 1910, just after returning from Europe, Norrie contracted pneumonia.  He died eleven days later.  His funeral was held in the house on December 29.

Norrie's estate, valued at $842,117 (about $21.7 million today), hinted at his lifestyle.  The New York Times reported "He owned at the time of his death about $4,000 worth of wines and liqueurs."  Included in the list were bottles of 1906 Chateau Yquem Sauterne worth $1,528.56.

Following her mourning period, Ethel resumed her social schedule, hosting dinners followed by bridge, musicales or other entertainments.  Then, in April 1914, she sailed for Paris ostensibly to visit her sister.  A month later, on May 20, The New York Times reported that "according to word received here" Ethel had announced her engagement to Count Odet Armand Marie de Jumilhac of Paris.  "Count de Jamilhac is a member of a well-known titled family of France," said the article.  "He is a relative of Duke de Richelieu."

On December 31, 1916 The Times mentioned "Mr. and Mrs. Charles F. Hoffman have given up their residence at 620 Fifth Avenue and have taken the house of the Countess Jumilhac of Paris, at 15 East Eighty-fourth Street."  The following year, on November 18, The Sun reported the couple had arrived from Newport and "are in their new home" here.

Charles Frederick Hoffman, Jr. and his wife, the former Zelie Preston, continued to lease the house from Ethel until June 1919 when she sold it to the couple.  It was assessed that year for $175,000, or $2.75 million today.  Ironically, two months later, on August 28, Charles died in the family's summer estate, Armsea Hall, in Newport.

Newspapers were astonished by one stipulation in Hoffman's will.  The Hoffman's only child, Marian, who was 17 years old, was to receive an income of $50,000 per year and that amount had to be "expended annually" in order "that Marian may keep up the state of life suitable to one in her situation."  The schoolgirl was also in line to receive a trust fund of more than $1 million left by her grandfather upon her coming of age.

Zelie leased the mansion to Howard W. Maxwell and his wife, Helen.  The family's summer estate was in Glen Cove, Long Island.  Their son, Howard, Jr. had served in the air forces of the Navy during the war and had just graduated from Princeton.

Excitement over young Howard's upcoming marriage to Betty Jackson came to an abrupt end on May 23, 1921.  The ceremony was to take place at the summer estate of the bride's parents, Inisfad, near Roslyn, Long Island.  All the arrangements had been completed and a special train was contracted to take the guests to and from the wedding.  Then the New-York Tribune reported "Announcement has been made of the breaking by mutual consent of the engagement."


The Maxwells would soon have to find a new city residence.  On March 12, 1922 The New York Herald hinted at rumors that "the big house of the Charles F. Hoffman estate" had been sold to Edward H. Doheny, president of the Mexican Petroleum Company, Ltd., of Delaware.  The article said "Mr. Doheny attracted attention recently as an independent oil operator."

Five days later the newspaper confirmed the rumors.  Doheny had paid $300,000 for the house and three-story garage directly behind the property at Nos. 16-18 East 85th Street.  Doheny wasted no time in updating the residence, installing a new oil furnace and a replacement elevator in September.

In addition to oil, the 29-year old Dohney was deeply involved in motion pictures.  He owned an estate, Greystone, in Beverly Hills, California which, according to The New York Herald on March 12, 1922, "penetrates a canyon not far from Miss [Pauline] Frederick's home, but a frieze of eucalyptus hides it from public view.  In the same neighborhood Mme. [Alla] Nazimova has a yellow citadel."

The same newspaper noted in July that year that it was Doheny who backed the career of swashbuckling silent star Douglas Fairbanks.  The article said he "is said on good authority to be the financial figure who enables Doug to jump from rooftree to rooftree with a clear mind, so he won't miss his step."  The newspaper said that Doheny "poured all the money into 'Robin Hood' like oil."

Edward and Lucia Doheny - photo via fineartamerica

Doheny's life would play out like a Hollywood thriller.  In 1924 he was entangled in the Teapot Dome investigation as the messenger who carried the "little black bag" containing $100,000 in cash to Secretary of the Interior Albert B. Fall.  The money was reputedly a bribe to induce Fall to sign over the Navy's oil reserves to Doheny's father.

It was possibly his indictment and the long trial that prompted him to sell the 84th Street mansion to Elizabeth Mills Reid, widow of editor and diplomat Whitelaw Reid, in 1927.  

By now Doheny's former chauffeur, Hugh Plunkett had risen to what The New York Times called his "confidential secretary and companion."  A designated guest bedroom in the Beverly Hills mansion was often used by him.

On the night of February 16, 1929 Plunkett arrived at Greystone in an agitated state.  Around 10:30 Doheny called his physician, Dr. E. C. Fishbaugh and asked him to come by.  Plunkett, he said, had a sore throat and "hysteria."

When Fishbaugh arrived the five Doheny children were asleep.  Lucia Doheny told the doctor her husband and Plunkett were in the guest bedroom.  As she and the doctor headed down the hallway, Plunkett burst forth, shouting "You stay out of here!" and slammed the door.  A moment later a gunshot was heard.

Fishbaugh sent Lucia back to the living room and forced his way into the room.  Doheny's body was on the floor, in his pajamas.  He told investigators later, "To the best of my recollection Plunkett was fully clothed."

In the meantime, Elizabeth Mills Reid had immediately transferred title of the 84th Street mansion to her son, Ogden Mills Reid.  Whitelaw Reid had left an estate of nearly $20.5 million in 1912 and  Elizabeth was intent on distributing most of it to her two children before her death, thereby circumventing estate taxes.  She had earlier presented Ogden with the title of her massive country estate, Ophir Hall, in Purchase, New York.

Reid hired architect Lafayette A. Goldstone to remodel the former Norrie mansion.   The Italian Renaissance remake, completed in 1928, left no trace of the Renwick, Aspinwall & Owen villa.  The full facade was pulled forward to the property line and the entrance centered.  The restrained design depended on elegance rather than ornament to made its statement.

Lafayette A. Goldstone's 1928 rendering included costly limousines and well-dressed passersby.

Above the rusticated limestone base, only the openings of the piano nobile were graced with Renaissance pediments.  A stone cornice separated the fourth and fifth floors; while a sixth floor sat back, nearly hidden from street level.

Reid's wife, Helen, had been his mother's private secretary.  Educated at Barnard, she earned the position of vice-president of the Tribune and reportedly had as much to do with the day-to-day running of the newspaper as her husband.

Ogden Mills Reid - from the collection of the Library of Congress

Inside the remodeled mansion were irreplaceable works of art.  Included were a Charles Wilson Peale portrait of George Washington; a Gainsborough painting of Lady Glenorchy; a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn of the Countess of Aboyne; and an oil portrait by 17th century Spanish artist Francisco Zurbaran.

Of the many social events hosted by Ogden and Helen, perhaps none was so notable as the luncheon on April 23, 1931.  King Prajadhipok of Siam and his wife, Queen Rambhai Barni, were guests of Ogden's mother.  The New York Times reported that the king "set up the temporary capital of Siam yesterday at Ophir Hall."

On April 24 the newspaper reported "The royal couple unexpectedly left Ophir Hall late yesterday morning...In the car with the King and Queen were the Siamese Minster to the United States, Prince Amoradat Kridakara, and Admiral Mom-Chao Thavara Chayant, physician in ordinary to the King."

The limousine was headed to the Reid mansion on East 84th Street.  There a luncheon, termed "informal," was served.  The Times noted "it was understood that there were no guests other than the immediate party."

Afterward Helen took the Queen shopping on West 57th Street.  "The visit was so unostentatious that many of the employes of the shop did not know of it."  The Queen apparently enjoyed her shopping trip, because later in the afternoon "several bundles and hat boxes arrived at Ophir Hall."

The King and Queen met up later at the Reid mansion and remained for tea.  This time there were a few guests, including Raymond B. Stevens, adviser on foreign affairs to the Siamese Government, and Ralph Hayes, president of the Transamerica Corporation.

The Reids experienced two unrelated but equally disturbing events involving servants.  In September 1936 25-year old Herbert J. Marlow was hired to work in the house.  Two months later, on November 6, he went to the Hotel Bristol on West 48th Street and jumped to his death from the 10th floor.  Reid's personal secretary, Polly Howell, was called to the scene to identify him.  He had left five notes, one of this was addressed to Ogden Reid, and another to Polly.

Edna Tellin, a maid, lived in the Reid mansion.  The 47-year old left the house two weeks after the tragedy on her day off.  She never returned.  It was obvious she had not simply abandoned her position, since there was $264 in cash in her room and $10,000 in her savings account.

On December 31 her body was discovered in the Harlem River.  The cause of death could not be established.  The Times reported "The police estimated the body had been in the water about a month.  It bore no marks of violence."

Ogden Reid developed an ulcerous throat in December 1946.  He was treated at the Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center and seemed to have responded well.  But he developed pneumonia and died on January 3, 1947.

Reid's estate, valued at just under $9.5 million, included generous bequests to servants and employees.  Polly Howell received $5,000 (about $53,000 today), as did four others, including E. Edward Ridout, who managed Ophir Farm.  Other staff members in the 84th Street house received $2,500.

The Reids' sons, Ogden Rogers and Whitelaw, were both still living in the 84th Street house with their mother.  The property was now assessed at $340,000.

On August 19, 1949, just months before Helen sold the house, it appears exactly as it does today.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Helen sold it in July 1950 to the American Jewish Congress.  The group announced that it would used the mansion as "national headquarters for the executive offices of both the congress and the World Jewish Congress."  Named the Stephen Wise Congress House in memory of the deceased rabbi who had headed both Congresses, Rabbi Irving Miller said it "would house an assembly hall for conferences of scholars and social scientists."

When the Stephen Wise Congress House was dedicated on April 15, 1951, President Harry Truman sent a tribute.  For half a century the Stephen Wise Congress House was the venue for dynamic discussions about issues like Zionism, refugees, and Palestine.  Exhibits of Jewish artists were routinely staged here.

In 2004 the mansion was sold to the Institute for the Study of the Ancient World.  Run by New York University, it is a center for scholarly research and graduate education of ancient civilizations.  Both doctoral and postdoctoral programs are offered.

photographs by the author

The William K. Dick Mansion - 7 East 84th Street

A garage had been carved into the limestone base by the early 21st century photo via abovethelaw.com

In the first decade following the end of the Civil War, builder Philip Braender got into the speculative development frenzy on the Upper East Side.  By 1892 he would be responsible for more than 1,500 structures here and elsewhere in the city.

In 1884 construction began on No. 7 East 84th Street.  Designed by prolific architect John Brandt, the high-stoop, brownstone house was four stories tall above the English basement.  While its architecture was little different from scores of brownstones rising in the neighborhood, its 25-foot width and interior appointments made it an upscale residence.

Braender sold the completed house to Algernon Sydney Jarvis.  As was customary, the title was put in the name of his wife, Nathalie.  Born in 1810, at the age of 28 Jarvis had been employed by Nathaniel Pearce in his tobacco inspecting business.  Jarvis not only became partners with Pearce, he married his daughter.  The couple would have two daughters, Anna and Helen.

Before then, in 1834, the adventurous young man signed on as supercargo--the representative of a merchant ship's owner responsible for the cargo--on the brig Margaret Oakley.  During that voyage a small uncharted island was discovered off the coast of New South Wales.  It was named Jarvis Island.

By the time the family moved into the 84th Street house, Jarvis was wealthy.  He owned extensive properties, and was a director in the Manhattan Eye and Ear Infirmary, and the American Agricultural Society.

The Jarvis summer estate was in White Plains, New York.  Nathalie and Algernon were there on June 31, 1895 when Algernon died.  The New York Times reported that the cause of the 85-year old's death was "general debility, due to his advanced age."

Nathalie remained in the East 84th Street house, her comings and goings reported in the society columns.  Her substantial fortune was reflected in the sale in 1902 of an entire block of property in Jersey City.  Known as the Old Inspection baseball grounds, she sold it for $60,000--more than $1.7 million today.

In 1906, after she had lived in the house more than two decades, Nathalie recognized that her brownstone house was architecturally outdated.  Like many of her neighbors she laid plans to update.


On November 3 architect Augustus N. Allen filed plans for "extensive alterations."   The renovations would not only strip off the brownstone front and remove the stoop; but add "electric wiring" and remodeled interiors.  The changes would cost Nathalie $35,000--more than $950,000 today.

With the entrance moved to sidewalk level, the mansion was now officially five stories tall.  While neo-Georgian style homes were appearing in the neighborhood--most notably the Andrew Carnegie mansion--Duncan's red brick and limestone design drew inspiration from English Regency structures.  The entrance was centered within the rusticated stone base.  The headers of the Flemish bond brickwork of the mid section were charred to give the illusion of age.

A projecting bay at the third floor rose from stone loggia below.  The bay was decorated with delicate Adam motifs--bowls of fruit, fluted pilasters and sunburst medallions.  The cornice of the bay supported an iron-railed balcony.  The large copper-clad dormer of the fifth floor sat behind a pierced stone railing.  It was supported by an exquisitely-carved and complex cornice.

The Regency style was carried into the staircase hall. photo via corcoran.com

In February 1909 Nathalie sold the house to Gustav Abraham Wertheim and his wife, the former Lucile Stern.  The couple had been married five years earlier.   Born in Amsterdam to a wealthy banker, he and his brother, Henri, came to America and entered the financial business. 

As the moneyed family traveled extensively, they leased the house--in 1913 to Olney B. Mairs, in 1916, to W. B. Duryea, and in 1919 to J. T. Thompson, for instance.   By now the family name had changed.  In 1914 Gustav and Henri petitioned the courts to legally their surnames to include their mother's--van Heukelom.  And so when Gustav sold the house late in July 1919 his name was listed as Gustav Wertheim van Heukelom.

The mansion became the home of its most socially-visible occupants, William K. Dick and his wife the former Madeleine Talmage Force and widow of John Jacob Astor.

Madeleine Talmadge Force Astor Dick - from the collection of the Library of Congress

Madeleine was five months pregnant when she and Astor headed home from their honeymoon on the RMS Titanic.  Astor and his valet died in the sinking; Madeleine, her maid and nurse survived.

When she married her childhood friend, millionaire William K. Dick, in June 1916 she necessarily relinquished ownership of the massive Astor mansion on Fifth avenue and income from a $5 million trust fund.

While the Dick family was living here, apartment buildings had encroached from the west.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The couple maintained a "country place' known as Allen Winden Farm in Islip, Long Island and traveled extensively.  Madeleine's son, John Jacob Astor, would be joined by two half-brothers, William Force Dick and John Henry Dick, in the house.

The year after the Dicks moved into the 84th Street house it was the scene of an out-of-the-ordinary event: the wedding of Madeleine's sister, Katherine, to Lorillard Spencer.  When and where the ceremony would take place had been the subject of rumors for some time.  It was held in the mansion on December 9, 1922 and The New York Herald pronounced it "one of the notable weddings of the season."  The article noted that Madeleine's "little sons, John Jacob Astor and William Dick, were pages."

William K. Dick - from the collection of the Library of Congress

After 17 years of marriage Madeleine seems to have gotten a wandering eye.  On Monday, June 5, 1933 The New York Times reported "Mrs. William K. Dick, widow of the late John Jacob Astor, who was lost in the Titanic disaster, left last night for Reno."  The article added "At her home at 7 East Eighty-fourth Street Mrs. Dick's secretary declined to discuss published reports that Mrs. Dick's departure was the first step in a plan to divorce her second husband."

Madeleine obtained her divorced on July 21, 1933 and four months later, on November 27 she married the Italian-born actor and boxer Enzo Fiermonte.  Four years later they divorced.

William remained in the 84th Street house.  It was the scene of the wedding of his brother, Adolph, to Polly Campbell on March 9, 1935.  The marriage did not last.  The couple was divorced in Reno in March 1937 "on the ground of cruelty." 

Before long Dick spent less time in the mansion.  In 1941 he leased it to Sir William Wiseman of the banking firm Kuhn, Loeb & Co.  In reporting on the lease The New York Times described the house as "containing twenty-five rooms and seven baths."  Three years later it was leased to Dr. Arthur Rodzinski, conductor of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra.

During World War II the New York Italian Consulate had, obviously, been closed.  On May 6, 1946 it reopened, now in the William Dick mansion.  It remained here until around 1950 when the house became the Hungarian Consulate.  The country paid $18,000 per year rent--equal to about $14,600 per month today.

In December 1951, however, the State Department ordered the closing of Hungarian consulates in response to the imprisonment of four United States pilots forced down over Hungarian territory by Soviet aircraft on November 19.   On December 28 the Hungarian Government, accused of violating the human and diplomatic rights of the American fliers, was given until midnight to close the East 84th Street facility.

The former mansion was subsequently purchased by the Asia Institute for $115,000.  Founded in 1928 to promote research and interest in Persian art and archaeology, it was here only until 1953, the same year that William Dick died.   The house was sold and altered as apartments--one each in lower two floors, and two on the upper stories.

In 2009 the Dick mansion was reconverted to a single family home.  When it was offered for sale in 2013 for $30 million, Robin Finn of The New York Times described it as "an actual mansion."  The house was resold in 2016; but disaster soon struck.

The opulence of the renovated mansion did justice to its history.  photos via corcoran.com

The new owner had filed plans to demolish the interiors and do a "full renovation" at an estimated cost of more than $3 million.  That construction was underway when at around 2:25 a.m. on March 13, 2017 fire broke out.   Three and a half hours later the inferno was under control; but the mansion had been gutted.

In April 2017 sunlight can be seen through the openings.

The dignified 1906 facade stands before a burned-out shell awaiting the next chapter to unfold.

non-credited photographs by the author

The 1903 Benj. A. Sands Mansion -- No. 11 East 84th Street

When real estate operator F. de R. Wissmann sold the 1872 brownstone at No. 11 East 84^th Street for Myer Foster on March 11, 1901, The New York Times remarked “The purchaser will probably erect a new dwelling on the lot.”  The house had been home to Myer Foster and his wife, Eva, for years.  What the journalist probably did not know was that the purchaser was Foster’s own real estate broker.

Later that year, on October 5, the Real Estate Record & Guide commented “Mr. F. De R. Wissmann, believing that there is a demand for high-class English basement dwellings, has undertaken the erection of two of the finest type, at Nos. 9 and 11 East 84^th st, almost adjoining the residence of the late J. Hooker Hammersley.”

The journal approved of Wissmann’s choice of architects.  “Warren & Wetmore, the well-known architects, have been entrusted with the duty of designing these houses, and the result will undoubtedly appeal to that class of people who appreciate well-planned residences suitable for entertaining.”

Those of the “class of people” who sought out residences “suitable for entertaining” were, frankly, rich.  And the architects did not disappoint.  Warren & Wetmore created a stunning pair of limestone clad, Beaux Arts palaces completed in 1903.  No. 11 was a bit more boastful with its bowed, two story bay which sat on a lavish pair of brackets and a centered cartouche.  The elements were entwined with dripping garlands of fruits and flowers, and swirling ribbons.  A stone balcony with handsome iron railings flowed along the fourth story of both houses, bulging out as it followed the lines of the bay at No. 11.   The mansard roofs of each were distinguished with three French, copper-clad dormers.

Wissman pictured both houses in his advertisement when he offered them for sale in April 1903 -- The New-York Tribune (copyright expired)

F. de R. Wissmann boasted in his sales advertisement "The chief distinguishing feature of an English Basement House consists in the Kitchen being placed on one floor alone with the laundry and servants' hall, and not on the entrance floor, which is so objectionable in the American Basement House."  He pointed out that on the entrance floor of these homes, instead, were the dining rooms and "large hall."

Saying the houses were "modern in all points of construction and interior finish," Wissmann detailed "five bath rooms, all opening to the outer air, and not on a light shaft; nine servants' rooms, with a servants' staircase running to the roof, large passenger elevator, 5 master's bedrooms, salon and library."

Wissmann held title to No. 11 for three years, selling what The Times called “the fine dwelling” to Benjamin Aymar Sands in April 1906.  The newspaper noted “Mr. Sands will occupy the house.”  Not only did the 53-year old financier, a member of Bowers & Sands, occupy the mansion, but so did his extended family.

In the house with him and his wife, the former Amy K. Akin, were their daughter, Mary Emily (popularly called May); his unmarried sisters, E. Louise and Anna; brothers Charles Edward and Robert Cornell; and his married sister Katharine and her husband Theodore Havemeyer.

Perhaps the conditions were a bit too crowded for Benjamin and Amy.  By the time they announced May’s engagement on July 25, 1908, they were living at No. 58 West 48^th Street.   The rest of the family remained on 84^th Street,

The elegant appointments of the mansion were evidenced on February 18, 1908 when the butler discovered smoke gently wafting from the wainscoting.  The New York Times noted “Miss Anna Sands takes delight in the fine orderliness of her house.  It is a handsome whitestone front, trim without and within.  The floors are polished highly, the furniture beautifully kept, and the wainscoting has the finish which is the pride and joy of folks who like soft tones in fine woods.”  Rather than panic, the butler moved quietly “up the waxed stairs, approached the library and tapped on the door and calmly announced the fact.”

Anna Sands weighed the possibility of firemen and hoses trampling through her home against the threat of a conflagration.  She opted not to have brutish strangers swarming the house.  She telephoned Fire Headquarters and instructed that she wanted only one fire fighter to come to the mansion.  Fireman Reilly was nearby and he ran all the way to the No. 11.  When he found the front door locked, he rang the bell.

The butler made Reilly wait to be announced.  According to The Times, after Anna Sands responded “Show him in,” the fire fighter was instructed to wipe his feet before entering.  He found the hot spot between the wall and the wooden wainscoting, near a large fireplace.  The vigilant butler hovered over him and when Reilly started to rip the “many mirrors in the room” from the walls, the servant stopped him.

In desperation Reilly grabbed the telephone and called his company.  Within minutes the fire engine clattered up 84^th Street.  “Some of the precious wainscoting was ripped away and the fire put out,” reported The Times.  “About $500 damage was done.”

The exasperated Reilly grumbled to a reporter when he got back to the fire station, “It was a cut-glass affair.  We put it out with tumblers of water.”

The entire Sands family was well-known for various reasons.  Both Anna and her sister, E. Louise, were prominent in society and in charitable causes.  Anna was important in Newport society, and E. Louise was highly involved in the Social Service Committee of the Volunteer Hospital.  Charles Edward Sands was the National Court Tennis champion in 1905 and excelled as a racquets player; the only American to win the Racquette d’Or.  And Katherine had married into one of Manhattan’s wealthiest families.  Theodore Augustus Havemeyer’s family owned the largest sugar refining company in the world.

In 1916 the family hired a new "second butler."  Thor Veillegaard was 24-years old, a native of Norway.  The son of wealthy parents, he was cultured, well-mannered and refined—in short the perfect butler.  For months he “wore the Havemeyer livery,” as described by The New York Times, and announced guests, collected their cloaks and hats, and helped run the household.

At some point Anna Sands discovered that a diamond brooch was missing.  Theodore Havemeyer most likely did not notice that some of his expensive shirts and other clothing were disappearing one-by-one; since it was the butler who took care of his wardrobe.

And then, on Thursday, December 7, 1913, Veillegaard failed to show up for work.  When police checked his room in the 84^th Street mansion, they found disturbing evidence.  “Veillegaard had taken some of Mr. Havemeyer’s shirts and other clothing as well, according to the detectives, and they say they found a suitcase packed with still more clothing and left in Veillegaard’s room in the Havemeyer house, against the time when he could remove it conveniently.”

The butler was arrested on December 12 and a search of his bachelor apartment in the Bronx revealed more evidence.  Among the many pawn tickets was one for Anna Sand’s expensive brooch; along with others for her gold watch and stickpin.  As it turned out, the Havemeyers and Sands were the third set of victims.  Veillegaard had also been butler to the Tilford and Stoddard families, and had stolen jewelry and other costly items from them as well.

While E. Louise and Anna summered in Newport, the Havemeyers maintained a sprawling country estate, Cedar Hill, in Brookville, Long Island.  The large old mansion was filled with Theodore Havemeyer’s collection of antique English furniture which he had assembled over many years.   On the morning of December 10, 1927 the Katharine and Theodore left East 84^th Street to spend a weekend there.  They had no hint of what they had occurred overnight.

The New York Times reported “They arrived to find [the house] a smoking ruin from fire.”  A short circuit had sparked a fire, which was discovered by the caretaker.  Because Brookville had no fire department, the volunteer fire department from Locust Valley had to respond.  While they salvaged some furniture; most of the valuable antiques were destroyed.

“Practically all that was saved was a collection of Chinese rugs stored in the attic,” said The Times.  Havemeyer estimated the loss in furnishings at around $50,000 and to the house at $75,000.  The total loss today would amount to approximately $1.8 million.  The resolute couple determined to restore and rebuild Cedar Hill.

In April 1932 Anna Sands underwent an operation in St. Luke’s Hospital.  By now only E. Louise, and Katharine and Theodore were still living in No. 11 with her.  The operation was unsuccessful and Anna died in the hospital on April 9.  Her $500,000 estate would be equivalent to nearly $8.7 million in 2016.  

Two years later, in January, E. Louise became ill.  On May 5, 1934 she died in the East 84^th Street mansion.

The Great Depression and changing trends in high-end living threatened Manhattan’s grand mansions.  By now many had been razed for modern apartment buildings or converted to multi-family homes.  Nevertheless the Havemeyers stayed on in No. 11 with their domestic staff.  Theodore, however, had been in failing health since 1932, the year Anna died.

At 9:00 on the night of July 30 Theodore A. Havemeyer died in Cedar Hill at the age of 67.  Katharine returned to East 84^th Street where she remained for years.  Even as she aged, she remained a social presence.  In December 1941, for instance, she hosted a dinner and dance in the mansion for her debutante niece, Katharine M. Sands.

By mid-century the mansion was home to millionaire grain merchant Rene Eugene Fribourg.  Like Theodore Havemeyer, he was interested in antiques and filled the house with French 18^th century and Empire furniture, a collection of clocks and valuable artwork.  Following his death in 1963 separate auctions were held at Sotheby’s in London; one for the furniture and clocks, one for his art (garnering nearly $3.5 million), and another that handled his outstanding collection of European porcelain.  Many of the items were purchased by world-class museums.

Four years after Fribourg’s death No. 11 East 84^th Street was sold to the Bulgarian Government as its Permanent Mission to the United Nations.  On reporting the sale, The Times pointed out “The six-story mansion…contains 16 rooms, eight fireplaces, and eight bathrooms.”  The Government paid $300,000 for the house.

The elegant entrance doors have been replaced with formidably-solid replacements and bars understandably guard the ground floor window.  Otherwise (with perhaps the exception of obtrusive window air conditioners), the magnificent Beaux Arts palace is little changed since its completion in 1903.

photographs by Alice Lum