The 1904 Van Cordlandt - 1240 Park Avenue

 

photo by Deansfa

In the late 19th century, the soot-belching locomotives that ran down the middle of Park Avenue made the thoroughfare unappealing.  But with the trains converted to electricity, magnificent residences and upscale apartment buildings began appearing along the avenue.   In 1903, William F. Rohrig broke ground for a six-story apartment building, The Van Cortlandt, at the northwest corner of Park Avenue and 96th Street.  Designed by George F. Pelham, it was completed the following year at a cost of $195,000, or about $7 million in 2026.

Although The Van Cordlandt turned its shoulder to the busy avenue, its entrance on East 96th Street took the more enviable address of 1240 Park Avenue.  Pelham's tripartite Renaissance Revival design included a rusticated limestone base and an off-set entrance portico.  Its paired, polished granite Scamozzi columns upheld a substantial entablature that announced the building's name. It was crowned by a stone balustrade.

image via streeteasy.com

The brick-faced, four-story midsection was trimmed in limestone.  The Renaissance motif was carried out with arched and triangular pediments, occasional cornucopia-framed windows, and faux balconies.  Pelham emphasized horizontality at the top section with two running bandcourses.  A distinguished stone balustrade ran along the bracketed cornice.

The areaway was protected by high, wrought iron fencing.  The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1904 (copyright expired)

The Apartment Houses of the Metropolis described:

The suites are of seven, eight and nine rooms with two baths.  Parlors and libraries are finished in mahogany, whilst the dining-rooms are in unique quartered oak, with a high wainscoting and Dutch plate shelving.  The ceilings have oak beams.

There were four apartments per floor, the rents for which ranged from $1,050 to $1,400 per year--or $3,150 to $4,200 per month today.

The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1904 (copyright expired)

The Van Cordlandt filled with well-to-do residents.  Among them was Mrs. Mollie Anderson who became entangled in a debacle worthy of a silent film comedy on the afternoon of December 8, 1913.  That day the city experienced a gale with 88-mile-per-hour winds.  The following day, The New York Times reported, "Many persons were injured, much damage was done to property."  Mollie Anderson was unfortunate enough to have had ventured out.

She was walking along West End Avenue between 70th and 71st Street when, according to The New York Times, "she had occasion to open her handbag."  A gust of wind blew $50 in small bills into the air.  (The amount would translate to more than $1,600 today.)  As Mollie ran to gather up the bills, two rings--one containing five diamonds and the other a wedding ring--tumbled out of her bag "and were carried along by the wind," said the article.

Her increasingly panicked scrambling made the situation worse.  Two bank books fell out of her purse and were blown away.  Mollie's cries attracted a crowd as well as Patrolman Moskowitz.  People ran through the windstorm snatching at bills.  Mollie Anderson's struggle did not end well.  The New York Times reported, "The patrolman found only $17 of the $50 lost.  The bank books were found by a boy, but the rings, if found, were not returned."

Among the socially visible couples in The Van Cortlandt during the Depression years were Dr. William Wallace Whitelock and his wife, the former Baroness Mary von Stockhausen of Berlin.  The couple had one son, Otto von Stockhausen Whitelock.  Their country house, Tre Terrazzi, was in Pelham Manor, New York

An educator and author, Whitelock was born in Baltimore in 1870 and traced his ancestry to Sir Bulstrode Whitelock, the 17th century Governor of Windsor Castle, and to Richard Stockton, a signer of the Declaration of Independence.  Having received his Ph.D. from the University of Munich in 1893, he worked for The New York Times, interviewing celebrated figures like Thomas Hardy, H. G. Wells, George Moore, Rudyard Kipling, and Zola.  Starting in 1915, he was a contributor to the weekly humor magazine Life.  Among his several books were the  1903 The Literary Guillotine, the 1907 Foregone Verses, and a novel, When Kings Go Forth To Battle, published in 1907.

Born Baroness Mary Louise von Stockhausen in London, Mary Whitelock was educated in England, France and Germany.  She was presented at the Bavarian Court, the Austrian Court and the Court of St. James at the turn of the century, and in 1905 was given a private audience by Pope Pius X.

Admired by her beauty, she was a favorite model for prominent artists, and at one point a portrait of her by Stroese was placed on exhibition in the Crystal Palace.  Additionally, she was an accomplished singer and debuted in Paris with the Concerts Lamoureux and was later offered a contract with the Metropolitan Opera Company.

As a young woman, Mary Louise translated English works into German and French.  It was during that time that she met William Whitelock and they were married in London in 1901.

The Whitelocks' entertaining was widely followed by the society columns.  On December 31, 1937, for instance, The New York Sun reported that the couple "have returned to their residence at 1240 Park avenue, and will entertain at a reception on Sunday."  Among the guests that afternoon was Mary Dimmick Harrison, the former First Lady.  

Mary Harrison was a close friend of the Whitelocks.  The following year, on April 25, 1938, The Sun reported, "Dr. and Mrs. William Wallace Whitelock gave a dinner last night at their home, 1240 Park avenue, in honor of Mrs. Benjamin Harrison."

Also socially visible were Colonel George Chase Lewis and his wife, the former Louise Manning.  The couple had two daughters, Flora Louise and Virginia.  On December 29, 1938, The New York Times reported that the Lewises "gave a tea dance yesterday at the Officers Club on Governors Island.  The event served as a coming-out party for Miss Virginia J. Lewis."  The article mentioned, "Her sister, Miss Flora Louise Lewis, made her debut in the same setting several seasons ago."

At the time of her debut, Virginia Lewis was a freshman at Bryn Mawr College.  Possibly inspired by her father's military career, as war spread across Europe, she turned her attention to America's defense.  On June 27, 1940, The New York Times reported on the swearing in "of three volunteers into the first New York rifle squad of the America First Assembly of Women."  Among the volunteers was Virginia Lewis.  She and the other two girls had trained for six months.

A fascinating resident at the time was Caroline Sanders Truax, the widow of former New York State Supreme Court Justice Charles H. Truax, who died in 1910.  Caroline was one of the first women admitted to the New York State bar.  Born in Cincinnati, she was a graduate of the New York University Law School.  She practiced law briefly, turning her attention to conditions in what was then termed insane asylums.  The New York Times remarked that she "did much to better the conditions of inmates, making a study of American, English and Oriental asylums."

Like Mary Louise Whitelock, Caroline Sanders was a beauty in her youth.  She married Charles Truax in 1896 and on a tour of Europe (possibly their honeymoon), they visited the studio of French artist Jean-Léon Gérôme.  It resulted in Caroline's posing for the artist.  The portrait, with Caroline depicted as Sappho, a Grecian poet, was well received and when it arrived in America, was exhibited several times.

Gérôme's portrait of Caroline Sanders Traux hung in the Van Cordlandt apartment.  from the collection of Bowdoin University.

In the meantime, the Whitelocks continued to host glittering dinner parties and receptions.  On May 2, 1938, The New York Post reported on their dinner party in honor of composer Aurelio Giorni.  There were 22 "distinguished" guests, including pianist George Copeland.  This dinner party would stand out.

During a gathering in the apartment earlier that year, Copeland boasted that "his long residence in Spain and his experience with Spanish herbs and spices qualified him to rank among the best spaghetti cooks in New York."  The New York Post reported, "Mrs. Whitelock immediately challenged his contention on the ground that her many years of residence in Italy gave her a claim to the title."  

And so, this dinner party included a contest.  Copeland prepared his spaghetti and Mary Louise hers.  The article explained:

The spaghetti was brought in by two white-capped chefs, bearing two silver platters, one containing Mr. Copeland's effort, and the other Mrs. Whitelock's.  Each guest member of the jury received a portion from each salver, and was required to determine which he or she preferred.  They were given through the salad and desert courses to record their votes.

The article concluded, "needless to say the hostess saw to it that Mr. Copeland won."

In 1939, Dr. William Wallace Whitelock was struck "by a drunken vagrant on the street," according to The New York Times.  He never fully recovered from his injuries and the following year, on January 28, 1940, died in the couple's Van Corlandt apartment at the age of 70.  

The New York Times reported on June 26, 1949, "Mrs. William Wallace Whitelock, the former Baroness Mary Louise von Stockhausen, who was a prominent figure in early twentieth century literary, artistic and musical circles, died on Friday at Tre Terrazzi...after an illness of several months."

An intricate marble mosaic "carpet" floor, a stone fireplace, Caen stone walls, and a beamed ceiling gave the Van Cordlandt's lobby a refined air.  image via streeteasy.com

Living here in the early 1960s were William L. Brett and his wife.  Born in Przemysl, Poland in 1913, he was a naturalized American.  The European representative of the George E. Failing Company (a division of the Westinghouse Air Brake Company), he made routine business trips to Poland.

On February 9, 1962, he checked out of his Warsaw hotel to make a trip to Katowice, Poland.  After she heard nothing from him for a week, Mrs. Brett contacted the United States Embassy.  What they discovered was alarming.  The New York Times reported that he "has been held in [a] Warsaw jail for nearly three weeks on a charge of an illegal currency transaction."  It is unclear what the infraction was, but consul A. Gregory Nowakoski Jr., who visited him in the prison, said he "appeared to be in good health."

Among the Bretts' neighbors in the building were George A. Rosette, a former journalist and advertising executive, and his composer wife, the former Marion Savage.  After becoming a reporter for The Baltimore Sun in 1912, George opened an advertising agency the following year.  In 1925 the couple moved to New York and he began writing a column in The New York Daily Mirror, "Muse in Manhattan."  In 1940 he established the Rosette Advertising Agency and in 1946 began producing phonograph records as president of Corona Records, Inc.  The New York Times noted that Marion's songs were recorded by Corona Records.

Unfortunately, the distinguished rooftop balustrade has been removed.  But other than zig-zagging fire escapes that detract from George F. Pelham's design and the need for a gentle cleaning, The Van Cortlandt looks very much as it did in 1904 when it opened.

The Robt. L. Livingston Mansion - No. 12 East 96th Street

A sidewalk shed testifies to interior work in late 2016.

Robert Linlithgow Livingston’s family was among the oldest and most respected in New York.  His first ancestor in America, Robert Livingston the Elder, arrived in Albany in 1674.  The family estate, Livingston Manor along the Hudson River, was expanded until it was larger than the state of Rhode Island.

In 1892, at the age of 18, Livingston entered the banking firm of Kountze Brothers as a clerk.  His position there was bolstered when he married Helen Kountze in Grace Church on December 12, 1902.   In January 1904 he was admitted as a general partner.  Tragically, just one month later Helen died.

The young widower moved into the mansion of his aunt, the Countess Henri de Longier-Villars at No. 311 Fifth Avenue.  Following the expected period of mourning, he resumed the life of a bachelor millionaire.  On one trip to Europe very old money would meet the very new.

Massive fortunes from silver, gold and copper were being made in the Far West.  The wives and daughters of these new millionaires struggled for acceptance by East Coast socialites who most often viewed them as nouveau riche and uncultured.  And so the wife of Dennis Sheedy, Director of the International Smelting Company in Denver, had their two daughters, Marie and Florence, educated in a convent school and took them on extensive trips to Europe.

It was on one such trip and Robert L. Livingston met Marie Sheedy, known by newspaper readers as “the richest girl in Denver.”  A romance bloomed and Marie’s mother seems to have grasped the opportunity.  A telegram to The New York Times from Denver in 1911 noted “Although the Sheedy home is in Denver, the family have spent a great part of the Winter season at the Plaza, in New York, during the past few years.”

After Robert and Marie were “seen frequently” at social affairs and despite the difference in their ages (Livingston was now 34 and Marie was “in her early twenties”), their engagement was announced in December 1910.  The Times mentioned that she “is popular among the younger set in New York” and “attended nearly all of the dances and entertainments given by the younger society girls in New York.”

The couple was married in the Sheedy mansion in Denver on February 15, 1911; a local newspaper calling it “one of the most fashionable ever held in Denver.”  The article noted “The wedding gifts were magnificent, including a residence in New York and a rope of pearls to the bride from her father, who is a mining man.”

Livingston’s remarriage seems to have caused tensions at Kountze Brothers, and he resigned upon his return from the honeymoon.  In 1912 he became general partner in the newly-organized brokerage house of Adams, Livingston and Davis.

The Manhattan house presented by Dennis Sheedy was a vintage brownstone at No. 41 East 75^th Street.  But by the spring of 1916 the couple anticipated a modern home.  On May 27 that year the Record & Guide noted that Livingston had purchased property on the south side of East 96^th Street, near Central Park, “and contemplates the erection of a handsome five-story residence.”

Seven months later, in December 1916, Odgen Codman, Jr. filed plans for the $60,000 mansion.  The architect and designer had completed his own Parisian-styled mansion almost directly across the street, at No. 7 East 96^th Street, in 1913.  His vision for the block was an enclave of picturesque French residences; and when Livingston purchased his lots, the Codman-designed mansion of Lucy Dahlgren was just being completed at No. 15.   The project led the Record & Guide to note “the addition of Robert L. Livingston to the 96^th street colony,” on September 30, 1916.

Delicate floral festoons drape from bracket to keystone to bracket along the ground floor.

Completed in 1917 the limestone-clad Beaux Arts-style house at No. 12 East 96^th Street sat on a rusticated granite base.  The expected French-style mansard roof brought the 96^th Street elevation to five full floors.  But to the rear, unseen from the street, the mansion was seven stories high.

The Livingston mansion was completed just in time for an addition to the family.  In October 1917 newspapers made note that the Livingstons had closed “The Ledges,” their summer estate in Magnolia, Massachusetts and were at 96^th Street for the winter.   A few weeks later, on November 19, The Sun reported that the couple “are receiving congratulations on the birth of a daughter yesterday at their home, 12 East Ninety-sixth street.  It is their third daughter.”

By 1921 the Livingstons had purchased a new summer estate, Balleylock, in Beverley Farms, Massachusetts.  The family continued to expand.  On May 16 that year The New York Herald reported that the Livingstons “are receiving congratulations on the birth of a son on Saturday evening.  The boy, who will be named after his father, is the seventh descendant in direct line from Robert Livingston of Livingston Manor.”

Exactly one week later The New York Times reported “Robert L. Livingston of 12 East Ninety-sixth Street has taken his three elder children to Balleylock.”   There the estate staff would care for the girls while the dutiful Robert rushed back to Marie.  “Mr. Livingston will return, but, with Mrs. Livingston and their baby, now a week old, he will rejoin the other children late in June.”

In the spring of 1925 Robert L. Livingston caught a cold which progressed to pneumonia.  He died in the 96^th Street mansion on Sunday morning, April 12, at the age of 49.  Marie lived on in the house with the children; however she spent less time here.

On December 3, 1930 The Times reported that Marie, who had been in Pau, France for about a year, “will return here next Summer and go to Callender House, her place in Bar Harbor.  She will occupy her old home at 12 East Ninety-sixth Street next Winter, when she will introduce her daughter [Denise] to society.”

By now, however, Ogden Codman, Jr.’s exclusive French enclave was all but a memory.  Only three private homes survived on a street of modern apartment buildings.  In 1934 the family of Samuel Friedman was occupying the Livingston mansion.  They were still here in December that year when the engagement of daughter Eleanor to Robert Strasser was announced.

But the end of the line for No. 12 as a grand residence was near.  In 1939 it was sold and converted for us by a succession of upscale private schools.  The Emerson School was in the building in the last half of the century.  The exclusive school accepted only 55 students, ages three through five.  The 1971 tuition for five-year olds (about $7,000 in 2016) required an additional $225 for lunch.  The school promised the parents of potential students a “rich reading readiness” program, including lessons in French.

By 1983 the former mansion was home to the Carnegie Hill School; and in 1988 was converted to the All Children’s House, an institution for homeless children.  It was a short-lived experiment and by the turn of the century La Scuola d’Italia “G. Marconi” was using the house—offering bilingual instruction from nursery school through high school age.

In 2015 the school put the property on the market for $21,750,000.  The realtor’s listing noted “The townhouse contains stunning original details, including intricate moldings, multiple fireplaces, a grand staircase, a wood-paneled ballroom, and a wrought-iron balcony.”

Neighbors and preservationists will wait to find out the fate of the remarkably-surviving mansion.

photographs by the author