Showing posts with label henry Phipps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label henry Phipps. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Beleagured Terra Cotta -- No. 42 West 18th Street




In 1851 Goold Hoyt traveled to Washington D.C. for his wedding to Camilla Scott, the daughter of General Winfield Scott.  The newly weds would eventually settle in the upscale, four-story house at No. 45 West 17th Street, between Sixth and Fifth Avenues.  Directly behind the residence, facing 18th Street, was the couple's two-story carriage house.

Hoyt, whose family arrived on Long Island from Holland in the 17th century, was "a leading merchant of this city," according to The New York Times, and a founder of the Merchants' Exchange.  Camilla was described by The Sun as having "the same blonde beauty and haughty bearing that distinguished all [Winfield Scott's] daughters."

Camilla died in February 1882 and Goold in 1883.  At least one son, Winfield Scott Hoyt, remained in the 17th Street house.  His social eminence was reflected not only in his memberships to exclusive social clubs like the Union Club, Manhattan Club, and the Racquet Club; but in his close relationships with Manhattan's wealthiest citizens.

On July 24, 1892, for instance, he was a guest on William K. Vanderbilt's yacht, the Alva while summering in Newport.  The vessel was described by The Sun as "the largest and finest pleasure craft that ever glided down the ways of an American ship yard."

All but some of the 56-member crew were asleep at around 8:00 that morning when they were awakened by a deafening crash.  A freighter had smashed into the Alva, causing the millionaires and the crew to scramble into lifeboats.  The Sun reported "in twenty minutes the Alva sank, carrying with her a fortune, but fortunately there was no loss of life."

At the time the neighborhood around Hoyt's house had drastically changed.  Sixth Avenue, just steps away, was now lined with palatial retail emporiums as the Metropolitan Elevated Railway chugged along above.

As the turn of the century approached, two another millionaires arrived in New York City.  Partners Henry Phipps and Andrew Carnegie were from Pennsylvania where they had amassed vast fortunes in steel.   When J. P. Morgan bought the Carnegie Steel Company in 1901, Phipps walked away with the equivalent of $100 million today.

Phipps turned his attention to real estate and on January 11, 1907 bought the Hoyt house and stable.  Two months later he announced that he would built a six-story loft building on the plot.  His choice of architects was interesting.

In 1903 Phipps had leased a Scottish castle and during his stay hosted George Crawley as a house guest.  At the time Phipps was in the process of erecting his massive Fifth Avenue mansion, designed by Trowbridge & Livingston.   That project dragged on and Phipps had numerous complaints about the architects' work.   He showed Crawley the plans and was impressed by the designer's suggestions.  When he returned to New York, he brought Crawley along to consult on the house.

Phipps' son, John, was perhaps more impressed with Crawley.  He asked him to design his country estate, which would be called Westbury House.    Because he was not a trained architect, Grosvenor Atterbury was contracted to work with Crawley on the technical aspects.  The neo-Georgian mansion is a familiar landmark and Crawley's masterpiece.

Now Henry Phipps hired Crawley to design his loft building.  The plans, which described it as "of brick, with terra cotta trimmings," was estimated to cost $90,000--a little more than $2.3 million today.

The phrase "terra cotta trimmings" was a bit of an understatement.  The 18th Street facade was entirely faced in the gleaming white material above the cast iron storefront.   Neo-Gothic industrial buildings were cropping up around the city and Crawley joined the trend.  An immense four-story arch embraced vast factory windows, allowing an abundance of natural light.  Above a projecting, bracketed cornice, the sixth floor carried on the Gothic motif with square-headed drip moldings.

Decades of neglect have resulted in cracked and missing terra cotta.

The 17th Street elevation was distinctly treated as the back door.  No attempt at ornamentation was made, and the decidedly industrial facade was faced in beige brick.

Completed in 1908, the building filled with tenants related to the apparel and dry goods trades.  The Riverside Silk Works took the block-through store, and the lofts were leased by firms like the Eastern Supply Company, makers of women's hats and hat linings, clothing makers Ben Schiff & Bros., and the Massachusetts Thread Mills.

The 17th Street elevation was unmistakenly designed as the rear of the building.

Even as the new building opened, the Ladies' Mile shopping district was dying.  Roland Macy had started the northward migration of stores in 1902 when he moved his department store to Herald Square.  The last holdout, the massive former Siegel-Cooper department store, the side of which faced No. 42 West 18th Street, closed in 1918.

When the importing firm of Sgueglia, Grondona & Co. declared bankruptcy in 1922, it was apparently the last of the apparel-related occupants in the building.  The Depression years would bring a starkly different type of tenant.  

The storefront was obliterated in the late 20th century.

The building became home to the Freie Arbeiter Stimme in the 1930s.  The longest-running Yiddish-language anarchist periodical in America, it was first published in 1890.  During its 1920 convention, the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America had described the newspaper as "one of the courageous champions of the working class."  It often published literary works, like extracts of militant Alexander Berkman's book Now and After: The ABC of Anarchism.

By the late 1940s the building was home to the National Committee for Labor Palestine.  In January 1948 the Arab Higher Committee Delegation pleaded in writing with the FBI to investigate "all Jewish and Zionist organizations...which are raising funds to buy arms and ammunition and which are supporting the Haganah and Irgun, the Zionist terrorist groups."

Among the specific groups the Delegation fingered was the National Committee for Labor Palestine which, it alleged, was "publicly advertising for raising funds for these terrorist organizations."   A statement was issued from West 18th Street on January 9 denouncing the accusations.

The National Committee for Labor Palestine has been in existence in the United States for the last twenty-five years and is recognized by all labor and professional organizations as a bona-fide body...for its constructive purposes in Palestine and has nothing to do with terrorist organizations."

When the building was leased to the Manhattan Brush Company, Inc. the following decade, it probably seemed that the often-negative spotlight had finally dimmed.  The firm landed sizable contracts with the U.S. Government for supplying paint brushes to the Navy.   From 1958 to 1959 there were 11 such contracts.

But problems arose.  On January 13, 1964 a Federal grand jury returned a 175-count indictment charging the Manhattan Brush Company, "with cheating the Government of $234,838," according to The New York Times.  The Assistant United States Attorney, John W. Mills, described the brushes as "worthless."
The proposed project would preserve the historic facades of Nos. 40 and 42.  rendering by Morris Adjmi Architects via New York YIMBY

In 2016, with the Ladies' Mile district now resurrected as a vibrant shopping and residential area, the 42 West 18th Street Realty Corp. sought a special permit from the city planning commission to erect a high-rise apartment building on the parking lot at No. 38 West 18th Street while also engulfing the vintage structures at Nos. 40 and 42.

/A sidewalk shed has covered the lower portion of the building for years.

As the details are worked out (the Landmarks Preservation Commission gave its go-ahead in 2015), the 1908 building has sat behind a sidewalk bridge for years.  Its once handsome terra cotta facade appear more than a little embattled and the cast iron storefront was long ago obliterated.

photographs by the author

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

The John S. Phipps Mansion-- No. 6 East 87th Street


In 1901, Henry Phipps purchased two five-story flats at 7 and 9 East 87th Street, paying $100,000 for the properties.  His purpose, no doubt, was to do away with the bothersome buildings that abutted his rising white marble mansion at the corner northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 87th Street.

A year later, Phipps commissioned architect Grosvenor Atterbury to design an upscale home directly opposite the site, at 6 East 87th Street.  The generous plot, just under 77 feet wide, provided Atterbury the luxury of including a narrow garden to the side.  This did away with the necessity of a separate service entrance at the front of the house and also provided additional windows.

The five-story mansion, completed in 1904, was faced in limestone.  The New York Times deemed it, “one of the largest and finest homes in the upper Fifth Avenue district.”  Its Beaux Arts design included arched French doors at the second floor (or piano nobile) that opened onto a long stone balcony.  Exquisite ironwork that matched the entrance grillwork decorated more than protected the areaway.

Henry Phipps -- Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide May 13, 1911 (copyright expired)

Atterbury’s plans were inscribed, “house for J. S. Phipps, Esq.;” but John Schaffer Phipps’ parents, Henry and Anne Childs Shaffer Phipps, moved in as well—assumedly awaiting the completion of their mansion across the street.  John had married Margarita Celia Grace a few months earlier, on November 4, 1903.  The newlyweds would summer at their Westbury, Long Island country estate, and temporarily share the 87th Street house with the extended Phipps family in the winter social season.

The exquisite metal entrance grills, like iron lace, matched the areaway fencing.

The entire Henry Phipps family had recently relocated from Pittsburgh.  The original partner of Andrew Carnegie, Phipps retired in 1903 with a fortune that was estimated at $10 million.   

John's and Margarita's new home was, fortunately, commodious.  Also moving into the mansion were his sister Helen and her banker husband Bradley Martin; sister Amy; and his maternal uncle, Robert Shaffer, who was also an associate of Carnegie.  The New York Times would later mention that Shaffer, “lived with his nephew either at the home in East Eighty-seventh Street or at Westbury.”

In May 1905, Amy Phipps sent out her own wedding invitations.  The Pittsburgh Press noted, “The bride-elect has departed from the customs which obtained at the time of the weddings of her sister, Miss Helen Phipps, and her brother, John S. Phipps, and has had her wedding and reception cards prepared in America and issued from her New York home.”

The invitations to the ceremony, to be held on June 28 in St. George’s Church, included tickets to be presented at the door.  It was a means to keep gawkers and riff-raff on the sidewalk and out of the church.   Amy’s was a socially-enviable match.  The groom-to-be, Frederick Edward Guest, was, as reported in The Pittsburgh Press, the “son of Baron and Baroness Wimborne and is a cousin to the Duke of Marlborough, who married Miss Consuelo Vanderbilt.  He is also a relative of the Duke of Roxburghe, who married Miss Goelet.”  The marriage put the wealthy girl from Pittsburgh on a social par with any of New York’s debutantes.

On July 12, 1906, John and Margarita were in Newport when Robert Shaffer left the Westbury mansion for New York.  Around 10 a.m. his chauffeur, Andrew Peters, approached the Long Island Railroad tracks.  Later that morning, The New York Times would report that he was, “unconscious of the approach of the express train at the rate of forty-five miles an hour.”

Shaffer’s limousine collided with the passenger train.  “The machine was demolished, and Mr. Shaffer was hurled fifty feet, landing upon a pile of railroad ties.  An examination showed that almost every bone in his body was broken.”  The 55-year-old bachelor was killed instantly.

Arched French doors open onto a carved stone balcony at the second floor.

By now Henry and Anne Phipps were living in the massive Fifth Avenue mansion at the corner.  A few months before the train accident, John and his wife left the 87th Street house, leasing it to John’s sister Helen and her husband, millionaire Bradley Martin, Jr.  The New-York Tribune on February 27, “will make their home there for some time to come.”

When Amy visited from England in 1912, Helen hosted a lavish party.  On March 10 The Sun reported, “Mrs. Bradley Martin, Jr., gave a dinner last night at her house, 6 East Eighty-seventh street, for her sister, the Hon. Mrs. Frederick Guest, who arrived from England yesterday.”  The 60 dinner guests were joined by others afterward as artists from the Metropolitan Opera entertained.

In December the following year, John S. Phipps sold the 87th Street mansion to his sister.  In somewhat ironic wording, The New York Times reported, “Mr. and Mrs. Bradley Martin, Jr. have purchased the Bradley Martin house at 6 East Eighty-seventh Street.”

As spring blossomed in New York that year, the two Martin children would suffer a loss.  The windows of the mansion were opened to let in the refreshing March air.  It was all too tempting for the children’s pet South American macaw.

“The bird was of exceptional plumage, and being very tame was allowed to roam at will in the children’s part of the house,” reported The New York Times on March 22, 1914.  “Finding a window open the bird flew out across the vacant lot at the rear of the Martin residence.”  Although a reward was offered for the bird’s return, the newspaper said that the children “are mourning the loss of their pet.”

When the Martins placed the mansion for sale in 1916, The New York Times made note of the elite neighborhood.  “Diagonally opposite is the Henry Phipps home, on the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue, and on the southeast corner, separated from the Martin home by the [William Evarts] Benjamin dwelling, is the new house lately finished for the banker, James E. Speyer.  On the vacant plot in the rear, on the north side of Eighty-sixth Street, William Woodward is erecting a large residence.”  The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide added, “At Fifth avenue and 86th street, Morton Plant is now building his new home, which will be completed next year.”


The house was sold for a reported $500,000 to Walter Phelps Bliss.  His father, George Bliss, was a founder of the banking firm Morton Bliss & Co.   By now, Walter's wealth was estimated at about $15 million.  When he married Katharine Baldwin in 1897, William Rockefeller was his best man.  The Bliss family maintained a country estate, Wendover, in Bernardsville, New Jersey.  Walter and Katharine wasted little time in adding their own touch to the 87th Street mansion.  In May 1917, they hired Hiss & Weekes to prepare plans “for the alteration and extension” of the mansion.  The anticipated cost was $7,500.

War upset many of society’s wedding schedules and the Bliss family was not immune.  Daughter Ruth Baldwin Bliss was a member of the Junior League and her wealthy fiancĂ©, Hermann C. Schwab, was a Harvard graduate and member of the exclusive Union Club.  When their engagement was announced in November 1918, he had risen to the rank of captain in the U.S. Army.  The New-York Tribune reported that Ruth would “be an Easter bride.”

The military had other plans.  On March 19, 1919, The Sun reported, “It was originally planned to have the wedding in Easter week, but as Capt. Schwab is obliged to sail for China on April 17, the date has been advanced.”  Instead, the “quiet affair” was held in Grace Church on April 2, followed by a reception in the 87th Street house.

Later that year, the house glowed as debutante entertainments for Ruth’s sister, Katharine, took place.  On December 30, the New-York Tribune described the “small dinner dance” in the house.  “The dinner was one of eighty covers, and, like the dancing which followed, was for the younger set.  A seated supper was served from midnight on.”

On January 10, 1924 the 53-year-old Walter Phelps Bliss rode the Lexington Avenue subway.  Just as approached the Brooklyn Bridge station, the banker slid down in his seat, dead of a heart attack.

Katharine Baldwin Bliss remained in the house.  For years she hosted the sewing classes of the Clothing Committee of St. Luke’s Hospital.  On March 22, 1927, she announced the engagement of Sibyll Baldwin Bliss to Gouverneur Morris Carnochan.  The New York Times said, “The engagement is of wide interest owing to the prominent of both families.”

Finally, in January 1941, Katharine moved to a sprawling Park Avenue apartment and leased the mansion to the Soviet Government for use as a private school for the children of consulate employees.  “The Russian officials pointed out, however, that the house had been taken in line with the Soviet plan of providing suitable school facilities for the children of Russian diplomats and other Russian families temporarily living in this country, the idea being to give them instruction equivalent to that which the Russian children would enjoy in elementary and high schools in their own country,” explained The New York Times.

About 70 Russian children attended school in the former mansion, which was partially converted to living quarters for some teachers.  But the school had barely begun operating when building inspectors reported violations, saying “as a school it needed fire escapes, a sprinkler system to guard against fires, and other special facilities.”  As a private home, these were unnecessary; but now as a multiple dwelling and school facility, they were required by law.

The Russians claimed diplomatic immunity against New York law and refused to comply.  Mayor La Guardia preferred not to rock any diplomatic boats and looked the other way.  But in 1947, with a new administration, the City lost patience when the Soviets refused to pay its water bill.

Threatened with eviction, the Soviet Government went to court.  Then, somewhat abruptly on June 2, 1948, newspapers announced, “The Russian Private School at 6 East Eighty-seventh Street, conducted since 1941 for the children of Soviet Union officials and employes [sic] in the New York area, will be closed when its term ends tomorrow.”  The children, aged 9 to 18 years, were returned to the Soviet Union.

The building was taken over by a much different group, the Liederkranz Club.  A German singing society founded on January 9, 1847, it was originally known as the Deutscher Liederkranz der Stadt New York.  The club flourished, occupying several lavish structures before settling in the Phipps mansion.

The club added its name above the entrance.

On December 28, 1950, journalist and theatrical producer Leslie Havergal Bradshaw attended a private dinner in the club.  Guests were thunderstruck when the well-known figure suddenly died at his table.

The club that carved its name above the entrance remains in the house today—the last Gilded Age mansion on the block.   In Anne Phipps’ garden stands the bronze statue of Polyhymnia, the Greek muse of sacred poetry.  Executed by sculptor Giuseppe Moretti, it was unveiled in 1896 for the 50th anniversary of the Liederkranz Club.  When the organization moved to 87th Street, Polyhymnia came along.

Moretti's statue of Polyhymnia stands in the narrow garden.


photographs taken by the author

Monday, April 7, 2014

The Lost Henry Phipps Mansion -- 5th Avenue and 87th Street


The newly-completed mansion in 1909 -- photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWTYUWVN&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

When he was a child in Pittsburgh, few would suspect that Henry Phipps would rise to become one of the richest and most powerful men in America.  The son of an immigrant shoe maker, Henry was reared in a gritty and deprived neighborhood.  His life would turn around when he partnered with Andrew Carnegie to found a steelworks at the time when bridges, railroads, and changing construction techniques demanded tons of steel.
As their fortunes grew, both Phipps and Carnegie donated generously to the poorer class from which they themselves came.  While Carnegie built free libraries so young men could access learning; Phipps erected and endowed a hospital for “consumptives” in Philadelphia; the largest facility for tuberculosis patients in the world.  He paid for an agricultural college in India where the poor “could be taught means to prevent the terrible famines that every few years devastate the land and claim thousands of victims by starvation,” said the San Francisco Call. 
And, despite Phipps's close friendship with his partner (he named his son Henry Carnegie Phipps), a moral disagreement between the men ended with an expensive compromise.  Carnegie’s libraries were closed on Sundays.  Phipps believed they should be opened—at least during certain hours.  So in 1890 he announced a gift of $20,000 to the Carnegie Library in Allegheny, Pennsylvania for the purchase of books “with the stipulation that the reading rooms be open from noon until 8 p.m.” on Sundays.
Both Carnegie and Phipps moved to New York City at the turn of the century and in 1901 the Carnegie Steel Company was purchased by J. P. Morgan for $480 million—approximately $13.6 billion today.  The New York Times later estimated Phipps’s share in the sale as $100 million.
In 1899, Andrew Carnegie commissioned Babb, Cook & Willard to design an immense neo-Georgian mansion across from Central Park and rather north of the homes of other millionaires.  His free-standing house would encompass the entire block from 90th to 91st Street, surrounded by lawns, gardens and a high decorative fence.
On January 9, 1901, The New York Times reported that Phipps had purchased “a large plot at the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and Eighty-seventh Street, only three blocks distant from the site on which his business associate, Andrew Carnegie, is erecting a magnificent mansion.”  Phipps had paid Perry Belmont $500,000 for the plot.  But he was not done yet.
He simultaneously purchased the two adjoining building lots on Fifth Avenue from E. H. Van Ingen & Co. for $200,000.  He could now build on a site that measured 100 by 175 feet.
Ten days later, the Deseret Evening News reported that “Mr. Phipps will at once begin construction of a mansion to cost $1,500,000.”  That amount would translate to about $40 million today, not including the cost of the land.
Phipps recognized that the area around his building site would draw Manhattan’s wealthiest citizens.  Already Perry Belmont had approved plans by Whitney Warren for his new mansion on Fifth Avenue at the corner of 92nd Street; and William D. Sloane had recently purchased land from Carnegie on 91st Street where he would build two mansions for his married daughters.  Five months later, Phipps purchased six lots on the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 96th Street as “an investment,” and the two old buildings at Nos. 7 and 9 East 87th Street.  The New York Times said he purchased those two properties “to protect his new residence on the adjoining Fifth Avenue corner.  There is little doubt that they will ultimately be replaced by modern dwellings of a design agreeable to Mr. Phipps, and the transaction, together with several others of similar character recently closed, are significant, as foreshadowing the fate of all flats and antique dwellings on lots along the border of the upper Fifth Avenue colony.”
Phipps chose the architectural firm of Trowbridge & Livingston to design the mansion.  Like Carnegie’s residence, it would take years to complete.  On February 12, 1905 The San Francisco Call said “his new home, now being built, on the corner of Fifth avenue and Eighty-seventh street, will be when finished one of the handsomest houses in America…It is in Italian renaissance style of architecture.”
Four stories tall, while successfully appearing to be three, the stately home sat far back from 87th Street and was approached by a semi-circular carriage drive.  To the east a one-story wing called the “Orangerie” served as the conservatory.  Interestingly, Phipps imported English architect Alfred C. Bossom to design the interiors which may have been a surprising contrast to the formal Italian façade.  The San Francisco Call said “For the furnishing of this superb house the fittings and furniture of an Indian palace were bought outright by Mr. Phipps during a sojourn in India several years ago.”
On April 2, 1905, The New York Times published a sketch of the house, showing a wooden fence surrounding the property.  That would not last.  In 1909 the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported that Henry Phipps had hired architect P. J. Mack to design a “brick wall” at a cost of $100.  The stately enclosure would mimic the parapet and rooftop balustrade of the mansion.

One of Henry Phipps's Indian acquisitions sits in the staircase hall.  A stained glass skylight illuminates the stairwell.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWT8TJKI&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWT8TJKI&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

Earlier that year, Phipps had spent $1 million to establish a fund for the construction of improved tenement houses for working class families.  The multimillionaire saw the conditions which the lower classes endured and set out to improve them.  “Mr. Phipps’ project, when pushed to the logical conclusion which he has in mind, has for its object the complete regeneration of the housing and sanitary conditions of fully three-fourths of the population living on Manhattan Island.  For notwithstanding the fact that the present intent of the movement being inaugurated by his gift is the alleviation of the miseries of the very poor in the abolishment of the dark warrens where they are forced to live under c conditions all but intolerable, the general effect of the bettering of such conditions must ultimately bring with it an improvement in the housing facilities of every family that lives in a flat or apartment house,” explained The San Francisco Call.
Phipps' interest in things Indian is reflected in the unique coffered ceiling --   photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWT8TJKI&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWT8TJKI&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

Phipps and his family eventually moved into the mansion that cost him, in total, around $2.5 million.  Almost immediately it was the scene of meetings and benefits for philanthropic causes.  On November 10, 1909, The Sun reported that the Tuberculosis Preventorium for Children was organized in a meeting held in house.  “The plan of the new institution is to take from the tenements children who have been infected with tuberculosis and restore them to normal health before it is too late,” said the newspaper.

The "Orangerie" sat at the eastern edge of the property.  Above it, a rooftop pergola offered evening respite from summer's stifling heat -- photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWTYUWVN&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

A year earlier Phipps gave $500,000 to start a psychiatric clinic at Johns Hopkins University to study mental diseases, and in 1909 gave $3 million to the University of Pennsylvania for tuberculosis research and treatment.
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, it was common for real estate to  be put in the wife's name; thus ensuring financial stability in the case of the husband’s death.  It was surprising, therefore, that it was not until April 21, 1915 that the title to the mansion was transferred to Anne C. Phipps.  The Pittsburgh Press remarked, “Mrs. Henry Phipps is today the owner of the $2,000,000 residence at the corner of Fifth ave. and Eighty-seventh st.  The deed to the property is on file today and shows that Mrs. Phipps paid her husband the nominal consideration of $100 for the large corner plot, with its costly marble house.”  The newspaper added “The Phipps house is one of the show places of the finest part of the residential section of New York’s leading avenue.”

Henry Phipps, who wore his beard similarly to his friend and former partner Andrew Carnegie, and his wife Anna -- photo from the collection of the Library of Congress

Somewhat shockingly, that same year construction began on a 12-story apartment house abutting the Phipps property on 87th Street.  It signaled the beginning of a disturbing trend which would soon pick up steam.
On September 30, 1916, Phipps hired Philadelphia architect Horace Trumbauer to design the family’s country estate at Great Neck, Long Island.  Situated on 89 acres, it would sit directly opposite Deepdale, the estate of William K. Vanderbilt, Jr.

A double-decker bus passes the Fifth Avenue side by the Phipps mansion on a still-tranquil Fifth Avenue -- photo from the collection of the Library of Congress

The Phipps family had not lived in their marble mansion for a full decade when, on April 8, 1917, The New York Times reported that Daniel Guggenheim had purchased it.  The Philadelphia-born industrialist and his wife had just purchased Howard Gould’s sprawling country estate Castle Gould on Long Island Sound.
Aggressive and determined, Guggenheim enlarged his family’s mining and smelting holdings.  At the time of the purchase he and J. P. Morgan were pushing the neutral United States to enter World War I.  And after the country did enter what was termed The Great War, change continued in Guggenheim’s new neighborhood.

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWTYUWVN&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

On January 26, 1919, The New York Times reported on “the most surprising feature of the realty market last week” which was “that Fifth Avenue was to have another tall apartment house right in the heart of the choicest residential section north of Fifty-ninth Street.  To those who had hoped that this thoroughfare would not again be invaded by apartment house construction for some time to come, the fact that the site selected for immediate improvement was in the Astor mansion block and that the high building will overtop the home of the late Colonel John Jacob Astor, now owned by Vincent Astor, came with the suddenness of a shock.”
The newspaper remembered “It was only a few years ago that the conservative minded residents and owners on the avenue were somewhat dismayed when a bold owner put up a twelve-story house adjoining the marble residence of Henry Phipps…Apartment construction on upper Fifth Avenue would appear to be as ruthless as that of commercial buildings in former home centres prior to the enactment of the zoning law.”

Demolition workers remove the interiors of the Phipps Mansion in 1927 -- photograph by William J. Roege from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWT8TJKI&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWT8TJKI&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

“Ruthless” was a well-chosen adjective.  As the 1920s dawned, developers scrambled to purchase and demolish the marble and granite palaces of Manhattan’s millionaires.  The lavish homes with their costly materials were built to last for over a century, but survived only a fraction of that time.  Less than two decades after the finishing touches were put on the Phipps mansion, it was gone.  Construction on the new apartment house designed by J. E. R. Carpenter was begun in 1927 and finished a year later.

image via compass.com