The Lost Astor Building - 10-12 Wall Street

 

from King's Photographic Views of New York, 1895 (copyright expired)

On January 15, 1881, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide commented that John Jacob Astor's recent purchase of 10 and 12 Wall Street showed "what heavy blocks of money are going in that direction [i.e., downtown]."  Astor had paid half a million dollars for the old buildings (about $15.4 million in 2024).  In a separate article, the Record & Guide noted, "The buildings will be torn down in May, when present leases expire and a grand office structure, 44x120, having probably eight or nine stories, will replace the present buildings."

But Astor temporarily put his plans on hold.  Perhaps reacting to his new tenants' entreaties, just over a week later the Record & Guide reported that he told them, "if they will remain on a four years' lease, he will not pull down the structures on the 1st of May."  The deal came with a price.  "Two tenants who now pay $4,500 each per annum have been raised to $10,000 each," said the article.

There would be no more reprieves.  In 1885, Astor demolished the vintage structures and hired Henry Jayneway Hardenbergh to design a replacement office building.  (Hardenbergh would work with Astor's son, William Waldorf Astor, in designing the Waldorf Hotel in 1893, and with William's cousin, John Jacob Astor IV, in 1897 in designing the Astoria Hotel next door.)

Hardenbergh blended Romanesque Revival and German Renaissance Revival styles.  The ground floor was faced in undressed "Scotch stone" with two polished gray granite pillars flanking the entrance.  The upper floors were clad in red brick and trimmed in terra cotta.  The midsection of Hardenbergh's tripartite design included four-story arches that embraced metal bays.  The top section took the form of a steep mansard fronted by a terra cotta encrusted gable flanked by dormers.

Although publications like Ernest Ingersoll's A Week in New York (a sort of guidebook), called the Astor Building "splendid," some architectural critics were less enthusiastic.  On February 5, 1887, the Record & Guide applauded Hardenbergh's merging of the first and second floors.  "The device is clever and effective, uniting the basement [i.e., ground floor] and marking it off from the superstructure, as could not have been done if it had consisted of two entirely separate stories."  But the critic felt that placing the central piers upon "dwarf columns" was "clearly a mistake."  He brutally opined, "The carving of the basement is feeble and ineffectual, and the bead and reel moulding at the intrados of the arches in the second story is really childish."  Overall, however, the article said the defects "are very pardonable, for they are defects in a generally successful and satisfactory piece of work."

Among the initial tenants was the banking and brokerage house of John H. Davis & Co., which moved into the Astor Building in November 1886.  The firm was founded in 1866 and for 17 years had operated from 17 Wall Street.  Bankers' Magazine noted, "This house has a wide reputation for honorable dealing...and both old friends and new will be pleased with the improved facilities now offered."  The firm would remain here for decades.

The Financial Review, 1888 (copyright expired)

Millionaire Calvin S. Brice ran his empire of railroads from his office here.  He owned ten railroads by the time he moved into the Astor Building.  He was, as well, involved in the National Telegraph Company and the Chase National Bank of New York.

Brice's office was the meeting place of the sub-Committee of the World's Fair Committee on Finance on October 17, 1889.  The other members were William Steinway, S. D. Babcock and Morris K. Jesup.  After the meeting, Brice told reporters the members would reconvene at his Fifth Avenue mansion that evening to finalize a complete report.  New York was competing with Chicago, St. Louis and Washington D.C. as the site of the proposed 1893 World's Fair.  No doubt very disappointing to Brice and his committee members, Chicago was awarded the honor.

Hardenbergh's rendering of the Astor Building.  Real Estate Record & Guide Office Building Supplement, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

William H. Roberts and Neil McCullum organized the Finance Trading Company in 1892 "and opened carpeted quarters in the Astor Building," as reported by The Sun.  At the time, "confidential clerks" were highly valued employees, today's equivalent of executive assistants.  The role was almost exclusively held by men.  The Finance Trading Company, however, "were extremely fortunate in selecting a confidential clerk.  They secured for that place a willowy woman, fair and young," said The Sun on August 26, 1892.

The newspaper reported that the previous day, the young woman "sat at the President's fine new roll-top desk, in the President's fine new swinging chair, and complacently told the stream of callers who asked for Mr. Roberts that the gentleman would not be in until to-morrow."  The reason that neither William Roberts nor Neil McCullum were in the office was because they had been arrested.  The previous day, The Evening World reported they were accused of running a "bogus bank" and having swindled their clients.

Along with the many bankers and brokers in the building, there were law firms.  Among them was Woodward & Mayer.  Partner J. M. Mayer graduated from Columbia Law School in 1886.  The Scroll commented on Mayer's dashing good looks in its December 1892 issue.  "He is the same man whose face every lady looking at the Atlanta and Burlington convention picks out and asks, 'Who's this?'"

J. M. Mayer was considered a heart-throb.  The Scroll, December 1892 (copyright expired)

Attorneys Thomas F. Gilroy, Jr. and Robert L. Wensley operated from the Astor Building in 1894 when Gilroy's engagement to socialite Natalie Hale was announced on November 22.  The engagement was notable not only because of Natalie's social position (The Evening World said she "comes from a family that has been prominent in society for two hundred years"), but because Gilroy's father was the Mayor of New York City.  The Evening World remarked, "The Mayor seemed pleased at his son's engagement."

Thomas F. Gilroy, Jr. The Evening World, November 23, 1894 (copyright expired)

Having the mayor as his father proved lucrative and eventually humiliating for Gilroy.  He was appointed City Chamberlain with an annual salary of $5,000 (about $165,000 today) and his firm received plum city commissions.

But on May 7, 1895, The Evening World reported that a meeting of the aldermen the previous day had resulted in "an attack upon Thomas F. Gilroy, Jr."  It was revealed that in January 1888 Gilroy and Wensley were commissioned by the Mayor's Office to compile city ordinances.  The firm received $5,100 and Gilroy was paid an additional $5,000 as counsel.  After seven years "during which the firm named was evidently hard at work," according to The Evening World, the report was submitted on May 6, 1895.

The Law Committee "finds that the compilation is practically worthless," reported the article, and stressed that the work could have been handled "by a subordinate in the offices of the counsel or under clerk of this Board."

John Jacob Astor III died in 1890.  The Astor Building was inherited by William Waldorf Astor.  After a vicious feud with his aunt Caroline Schermerhorn Astor, William relocated his family to England.  He continued, nevertheless, to manage his vast Manhattan properties.

On July 2, 1915, The New York Times reported that he had given his son, John Jacob Astor V, $7 million in Manhattan real estate, including the Astor Building.  The newspaper described the Astor Building as, "an old one...but it has always been kept in modern condition and is a popular office structure."

In February 1919, John Jacob Astor V hired architect Charles E. Birge to design a replacement structure.  He filed plans in February 1919 "for the erection of a thirty-two story structure on the site of the old building," according to the Record & Guide.  The cost was projected at $1.5 million (about $26.4 million today).

Instead, however, Astor sold the property to The Bankers' Trust Co.  "On the site of the newly acquired property the trust company will erect a thirty-two story addition to its present structure," said the Record & Guide.  Designed by Trowbridge & Livingston, the Bankers Trust Company Building survives.

photograph by ChrisRuvolo

Henry J. Hardenbergh's 1889 121 East 89th Street

 

The socially prominent Rhinelander family traced its American roots to Philip Jacob Rhinelander, who arrived in the New World in 1686.  In 1886, an offal dock sat on Rhinelander land at the northwest corner of 89th Street and Lexington Avenue.  (An offal dock was where the waste from slaughter houses and the carcasses of dead horses and other animals were brought to await removal by the city.)  Two years, later, the Estate of William C. Rhinelander replaced the odorous facility by hiring architect Henry Janeway Hardenberg to design six private homes on Lexington Avenue and a four-story flat building around the corner at 121 East 89th Street.

Hardenberg had designed the impressive Dakota apartment building at 1 West 72nd Street eight years earlier.  This flat building would be considerably less ambitious, but nonetheless architecturally striking.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta, Hardenberg drew on Northern Renaissance prototypes for his design, while sprinkling it with Queen Anne elements.  The fourth floor sprouted phoenix-like from a swagged cornice and broken pediment above the two-story mid-section.  Its window was flanked by Doric pilasters and capped by a triangular pediment.  Two terra cotta rondels embellished the vertical parapet that took the place of a terminal cornice.

The 20-foot-wide structure was completed in 1889.  Its four apartments--one per floor--filled with financially comfortable families.  

Among the first were Samuel R. Ives and his wife, the former Frances Louisa Way.  Ives was born in Ohio in 1835 and married Frances in 1861.  Although he was just 54 years old when the couple moved into the new building, Ives was already retired.  Unfortunately, he would not enjoy his new apartment for long.  He and Frances went to Matamoras, Pennsylvania (just across the River from Port Jervis, New York) for the summer in July 1890.  Ives died there on August 1.

Francis Marion Tichenor and his wife, the former Elizabeth R. Cornell, were also original tenants.  Francis was born in 1840 and Elizabeth in 1846.  They were married on October 8, 1879.  Like the Rhinelanders, Francis Tichenor traced his American roots to the 17th century, his original ancestor, Martin Tichenor arriving in the New Haven Colony prior to 1644.  Francis was a respected attorney, having been admitted to the bar in Newark in 1866.

Elizabeth lost an interesting piece of Victorian jewelry in January 1891, most likely on a shopping trip.  Her advertisement in the New York Herald on January 10 was detailed:

Lost--In the vicinity of 14th St., a gold Bracelet, two animal heads, diamond eyes and small diamond in mouth of one animal; liberal reward.  Mrs. F. M. Tichenor, 121 East 89th st.

She advertised again later that year.  This time she was looking for domestic help.  Her ad in the New-York Tribune on September 26 read, "Housework--A young girl to do general housework in small family; one to sleep home preferred.  Tichenor."

While the Tichenors preferred that their maid did not live with the family (almost assuredly their cook did), the Reautchleck family's servant girl did.  The arranagement landed Andrew Reautchleck in jail on March 29, 1892.  The Evening World explained he, "was held in Harlem Court to-day charged with having last night forced an entrance to the bedroom of Mary McGinty, a servant in the same house."

Edward P. Phelps and his family lived here by 1893.  Phelps was the auditor for the Denver Iron and Coal Company at 51 Wall Street.  That summer, he hired Frank Guinevan to paint the apartment.  When Guinevan left on June 11, Phelps quickly noticed that his valise was missing.  Inside were valuable business papers, including four United Coal Company mortgage bonds and three shares of the company's stock--worth a total of $4,300 (about $150,000 in 2024).

Phelps reported the theft and Guinevan was arrested on June 15.  The Sun reported, "When searched at the Police Headquarters all the bonds and stocks were found in his possession."

The Bennetts lived at 121 East 89th Street by 1894.  On September 13 that year, The New York Press somewhat callously reported, "Twas a mosquito gave an estate of $6,500 to Mrs. Agnes R. Bennett of No. 121 East Eighty-ninth street.  Her husband, a traveling man, was bitten by one and died from it on August 13.  The will was probated yesterday."  Bennett's estate would translate to about a quarter of a million in today's dollars.

Timothy J. Bresnan, a retired fire chief, and his wife moved in around 1902.  Bresnan received a yearly pension of about $60,300 by today's terms.  

On June 6, 1909, the couple went on a day trip to Rockaway Beach.  Their excursion would end dramatically.  The next morning The New York Times reported that Bresnan "stood in the roadway with his wife, at Highland Avenue and the Boulevard...at 11:45 o'clock last night, waiting for a trolley car to take them home."

Just as the trolley approached, a speeding, chauffeur-driven automobile with four passengers "came whirling toward them."  Bresnan pushed his wife to the curb and jumped in the opposite direction onto the trolley car.  The Times said, "The automobile glided between Mr. Bresnan and his wife, both narrowly escaping being run down."  A short distance up the block, the chauffeur stopped the car.  When he saw the irate Bresnan running toward him, he tried to restart the automobile, but the former fire chief was too quick for him.  He "jumped to the running board, and, with a vigorous swing, hit him in the face."

"That's for trying to run us down," Bresnan said.

Bresnan returned to his wife and boarded the trolley.  As it passed the automobile, the chauffeur, "one of his eyes beginning to swell," jumped aboard.  He and Bresnan "engaged in a lively fight."  The article said, "The passengers, many of them women, were in a panic."  Eventually, the chauffeur said he had had enough excitement for the night and jumped off.  "Ex-Chief Bresnan says he got the number of the automobile," reported The New York Times.

Among the Bresnans' neighbors were the Leopold Birnbaums. Both were born in Hungary in 1844.  They were married in 1861 and immigrated to New York with their five children in 1882.  Leopold Birnbaum was an accomplished engraver when he arrived.  Rather than working for a larger firm, he opened his own practice.  His clients included some of the leading jewelers of the city before his retirement in 1896.

The Birnbaums.  New York Herald, April 28, 1911 (copyright expired)

The Birnbaum apartment was well-filled on the night of April 28, 1911 in celebration of the couple's 50th anniversary.  The New York Herald reported, "A family dinner will be held in the evening, at which their five children and twelve grandchildren will be present.  To-morrow a reception will be held for friends."

The following year resident Harry Stillings suffered public embarrassment.  Early in July, he dropped into Frank Abrahall's saloon at 545 Third Avenue.  He had been preceded by what The New York Times called, "two visits to Abrahall's saloon of a police 'stool pigeon.'"  Suddenly, Police Lieutenant Becker's "Strong Arm" squad burst into the saloon and arrested Abrahall; his bartender, William Sheridan; and Harry Stillings as "common gamblers."    

Happily for Stillings (but not before his reputation had been tarnished), two weeks later, on July 21, The New York Times reported that he had been released "for lack of evidence against him and because he did not fit the description" in the informant's affidavit.

The floor-engulfing apartments continued, for the most part, to be occupied by respectable families.  Joseph Root and his wife lived here in the 1920s.  Mrs. Root was corresponding secretary of the East Side Clinic for Women and Children.  

Before it was painted, the facade's mixture of brick, brownstone and terra cotta created a contrast in color.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In the 1940s, Gordon S. Ierardi and his wife, the former Jean Coburn, lived here.  Ierardi graduated from Harvard in 1939 and initially joined the McGraw-Hill Publishing Co.  In 1940 he moved to John Wiley & Sons, Inc. where he would become "one of the foremost psychology editors in the nation," according to The New York Times.  Eventually, he would rise to the position of assistant vice president of the firm.

The building was renovated in 1984, although the configuration of one apartment to a floor was preserved.  It was possibly at that time that the red brick façade was painted white.  Other than that and replacement windows, Hardenberg's delightful flat building is outwardly little changed.

photographs by the author

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

The Lost Fifth Avenue Estates Bldg - 787 Fifth Avenue

 

The New York Architect, 1907 (copyright expired)

On September 20, 1902, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported, "The Fifth Avenue Estate Co., owners of the plot at the corner of 5th av and 60th st, will immediately begin the erection of a 15-story hotel from plans by H. J. Hardenbergh."  (Henry J. Hardenberg would design the Plaza Hotel a block away three years later.)  The article placed the projected cost of construction at a staggering $2.5 million--more than $91 million by 2024 conversion, and mentioned, "The ground floor will be occupied by the Van Norden Trust Co."  (The revised plans would be 10 stories, instead of 15.)

Hardenbergh's scheme for the Fifth Avenue Estates Building was an exuberant and unlikely marriage of Italian Renaissance and Beaux Arts.  As it neared completion on June 25, 1904, the Record & Guide commented, "The exterior of light cream brick and white marble is harmonious with its neighbors, and does not kill the beautiful Metropolitan clubhouse opposite."  

A double-height portico supported by paired Ionic columns sheltered the entrance.  The three-story rusticated marble base and brick mid-section drew inspiration from the Italian Renaissance with a stone Juliette balcony and arched and triangular pediments.  Above the iron-railed balcony that girded the eighth floor, the viewer was transported from Italy to France.  The two-story mansard ornamented with Beaux Arts dormers and cresting commanded attention from blocks away.

A residential hotel, the Fifth Avenue Estates Building had one sprawling apartment per floor, which, said the Record & Guide, "are expected to bring extremely high rentals."  A description in Van Norden Advertising said, "no expense has been spared to make the apartments the finest in the city," and described:

The arrangement of rooms gives direct access from the Foyer to the Drawing-room, the Library and the Dining-room, without passing the Bedroom doors, thus isolating the private portions of the suite; although, if desired, the rooms on Fifth Avenue may, by a slight rearrangement, be used for Living Rooms.

There were three servant rooms in each apartment--the cook's room, which adjoined the kitchen, and two maids rooms.  In the mansard level was a butler's room for each tenant, an arrangement that kept the domestic staffs separated by gender.  Van Norden Advertising noted, "Each apartment has its own trunk room, coal storage, and laundry situated outside of the suite itself."

The expansive apartments had the amenities of a private house.  The New York Architect, 1907 (copyright expired)

The Fifth Avenue Estates Building filled with wealthy, socially prominent tenants.  Among the first were the Edward C. Wallace family, brothers John Schaffer and Howard Phipps, and Anne Weightman Walker.

Edward Copeland Wallace and his wife, the former Antoinette Knapp, had a son Edward K.  Antoinette was the daughter of Joseph P. Knapp, the founder of the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company.  Wallace was president of the Milliken Bros., one of the world's largest iron and steel manufacturers.  Its plant on Staten Island engulfed 175 acres.  

Wallace and his son, who was 14 years old at the time, had been involved in a highly publicized trial in June 1902.  Edward C. Wallace drove his automobile "at fully thirty miles an hour," according to The New York Times, in Nyack, New York, terrifying the horse pulling the buggy of Edward G. Lovatt and his wife.  The horse bolted, overturning the buggy and injuring the passengers.

Vehicular speed would have a more tragic outcome for the Wallace family in the spring of 1906.  Edward K. Wallace, who was a sophomore at Yale, and classmate Caleb E. Bragg were racing their motorcycles on Jerome Avenue in the Bronx.  Wallace's front wheel struck the streetcar tracks and he was thrown over the handlebars to the pavement.  The New-York Tribune reported that his skull was fractured and that Bragg "picked him up and carried him to Fordham Hospital in an unconscious condition."

Three days later, The Evening World reported, "His father has been with him since the time of the accident almost continuously."  The article said, "Officials of the institution refuse to say that the young man cannot live the day out, but offer no encouragement."  Edward K. Wallace died on May 3.  The New-York Tribune noted, "He was wealthy, having nearly $1,500,000 in his own right, and being heir, it is said, to nearly $10,000,000 more."

Anne Weightman Walker was the widow of Robert J. C. Walker.  Upon his death in 1903, she inherited $10 million, and when her father, William Weightman (known as "the quinine king"), died the following year, she received another $60 million, real estate and a partnership in his drug company.  Her total cash inheritance within the 12-month period would equal $2.5 billion today.  The New York Times referred to Anne Weightman Walker as "one of the wealthiest women in the world."

Anne Weightman Walker Penfield, from the collection of the Library of Congress.

On February 26, 1908, Anne Walker was married in St. Patrick's Cathedral to Frederic Courtland Penfield by Archbishop John Murphy Farley.  The New York Times noted that Penfield, "for a number of years was American Minister Resident and Consul General to Egypt.  As an author he is known chiefly by his books, 'East of Suez' and 'Present Day Egypt.'"  The newspaper reported, "In celebration of her marriage Mrs. Penfield announced through her attorney in Philadelphia last night, gifts aggregating $1,000,000 to relatives and institutions."

"Immediately after the ceremony a wedding breakfast was served at the bride's home, 787 Fifth Avenue," said the article.  The couple left the city, possibly going to Anne's Philadelphia home, Ravenhill, for two weeks.  The New York Times reported, "at the end of March [they] will sail for Europe for a stay of several months in Italy, France, and Spain.  On their return they will live at 787 Fifth Avenue."

The Penfield apartment was a center of entertaining.  On January 16, 1910, for instance, The Sun reported, "Mrs. Frederic Courtland Penfield, one of the wealthiest matrons in town, will give a big tea on Tuesday afternoon at her home, 787 Fifth avenue.  There will be singing by members of the Metropolitan and Manhattan opera companies.  Mr. and Mrs. Penfield passed last winter in the Orient and had several guests with them on their tour."

On March 12, 1911, The Sun reported, "Countess de Sibour is the guest of Mrs. Frederick [sic] Penfield at 787 Fifth avenue and will remain until she leaves for Europe a fortnight hence."

Frederic Courtland Penfield, around 1913.  from the collection of the Library of Congress.

The Penfields left their apartment in 1913 after Frederic was named United States Ambassador to Austria-Hungary by President Woodrow Wilson.  The couple moved to Vienna, leaving their apartment in the Fifth Avenue Estates Building in the hands of selected servants.

In the meantime, John Shaffer Phipps and the former Margarita Celia Grace lived here; as did his brother Howard.  They were eldest and youngest sons, respectively, of steel magnate Henry Phipps and Annie Childs Shaffer, whose magnificent mansion was at 6 East 87th Street.  

John and Margarita had married on November 4, 1903, and had four children, John Henry Howard, Hubert Beaumont, Margaret Helen, and Michael.  Phipps earned his law degree at Harvard in 1899.  He had purchased a farm in Old Westbury, Long Island in 1901, and after marrying Margarita, hired George A. Crawley to design their sumptuous mansion there, Westbury House.

Westbury House was the country home of the John Shaffer Phippses.  photo by Etsfma

Howard, who would not marry until 1931, was a director in the Mellon National Bank and the Union Trust Company of Pittsburgh.  Following his graduation from Yale in 1907, he purchased the 127-acre estate adjoining Westbury House.  Like his brother, he was a member of the Long Island horse set, and both exhibited their thoroughbreds in the annual National Horse Show Association of America.  He occupied the existing house on the Long Island estate during the summer season until his marriage to Harriet Dyer Price, after which they hired architect Lewis Greenleaf Adams to design their mansion, Erchless.

An advertisement in The Sun on August 26, 1917 offered a 13-room, 4-bath apartment for $9,000 a year (equal to about $17,800 per month today).   Three months earlier, the Penfields had returned to their apartment.  The war in Europe had necessitated their leaving Vienna.  When they arrived on May 16, Penfield joked with reporters, "There are only two to whom I can tell the complete story of my diplomatic experience, and they are President Wilson and the Secretary of State.  If I do otherwise, I'll be fired."

Prior to the severance of diplomatic relations, Penfield had "represented the interests of nearly all the Allied Powers in Vienna for a considerable period," said The Sun.  In appreciation, on January 28, 1920, the French Consul-General, Gason Liebert presented Penfield with "a Sevres vase almost four feet high with an inscribed bronze base" on behalf of the French Government.

Shortly after their return to the United States, the Penfields began leasing Hopewell Hall in the Thousand Islands each summer season.  On June 11, 1922, the New York Herald reported the couple "have again leased Hopewell Hall."  But this year they would not occupy the mansion.  Three days later the newspaper reported, "Frederic Courtland Penfield, who was Ambassador to Austria-Hungary just prior to the war, is under medical care in his home, 787 Fifth avenue."  The article said, "he has congestion of the brain, which may have been induced by his strenuous diplomatic activities of the days before the break with Austria-Hungary."

Frederic Courtland Penfield died in the Fifth Avenue Estates apartment on June 19, 1922.  His funeral was held in St. Vincent's Ferrer Catholic Church on Lexington Avenue.  On June 27, The New York Times reported that his estate "is mentioned as '$200,000 and upward,' but it is said that the actual value will amount to several millions of dollars."  The bulk of the estate was left to Anne.  Among the other bequests, he left $25,000 (nearly half a million in 2024 dollars) to one of the couple's long-time servants, Mary Quigley.

The Fifth Avenue Estates Building in 1938.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

In 1959, architect H. I. Feldman filed plans for a 35-story office building on the side of "several" structures, including the Fifth Avenue Estate Building.  Although that building was never erected, in 1963 the 18-floor and penthouse apartment building, the Park V, designed by Emery Roth & Sons was completed on the site.

photograph by Godsfriendchuck

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

The 1884 Dakota Apartments - 1 West 72nd Street

In 1992 nearly a century of black grime was removed from the building, exposing Hardenbergh's warm palette of brick and stone.  photo by Ajay Suresh

Although it was inventor and actor Isaac Merritt Singer who founded the Singer Sewing Machine Company; it was Edward Cabot Clark who made it a success.  Clark had been Singer's attorney since 1848 and the two became business partners.  A marketing genius, Clark's innovative ideas--like accepting trade-ins for newer models--made the Singer Company an enormous success and the partners millionaires. 

Edward Clark diversified into real estate development and quickly turned his attention to the rocky, mostly undeveloped Upper West Side.  He was outspoken in his intentions to make the West Side as affluent as the East.  He encouraged landowners to work together, mutually investing in property, and issuing restrictive covenants on construction.  

In 1880 Clark embarked on an ambitious project—the erection of a first-class apartment building that would engulf the blockfront of Eighth Avenue (later Central Park West) between 72^nd and 73^rd Streets.  His speculation was both aggressive and risky. Years later The New York Times would remind its readers that the area "was in the heart of a squatter's shanty district, where goats and pigs were more frequently encountered than carriages in the muddy streets." 

Architect Henry Janeway Hardenbergh’s plans, filed on October 1, 1880, called for an eight-story “Dorchester stone and brick Family Hotel” with an estimated cost of $1 million (more than 24 times that much in today’s dollars).   Clark christened his projected building The Dakota.  Manhattan lore is fond of saying that Clark’s friends chided him that it was so far away from the established city that it could be in the Dakota Territory.  But in fact, the name was almost assuredly merely a product of Clark’s fascination with the West. 

Clark was faced with the challenge of attracting moneyed residents to an apartment building at a time when multifamily living was considered middle-class at best.  And so, his apartments would offer everything found in an upscale private home.   The ceiling heights ranged from 15.5 feet on the first floor to 12 feet at the topmost.   No two of the scores of fireplaces were identical, and imposing scale was emphasized throughout the building.  Some drawing rooms were 20 by 40 feet, and the parlors, libraries and dining rooms were sumptuous.  Floors were inlaid with cherry, oak and mahogany.  The Manufacturer and Builder reported that the apartments would have “from five to twenty rooms in each; some are supplied with kitchens, and others have only dining-rooms.  On the main floor, at the Eighth avenue and Seventy-second street corner, is to be a large restaurant, including a dining hall and café, with private dining-rooms connected.” 

Entrances are located on the four corners of the courtyard.  At the southeast corner were the restaurant, private dining rooms and cafe.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

The most lavish apartment was intended for Clark and his family.  Its drawing room was the size of a ballroom—24 by 49 feet—with two massive crystal chandeliers and fireplaces at either end.  It contained a total of 17 rooms and 17 fireplaces.  The expensive details included silver-plated doorknobs and hinges.

Clark would never see his apartment completed.  On October 14, 1882, Edward C. Clark died of malarial fever, two years before the end of construction.  But his project forged ahead without him.

To maximize floor space in the apartments, Clark and Hardenbergh had eliminated most of the servants’ rooms and relocated them to the top two floors, which they shared with the laundry and trunk storage rooms.  The second floor held apartments for out-of-town guests so the need for guest bedrooms in the apartments was unnecessary, as well.

Cast iron staircases with marble treads were deemed fireproof.  photo by Fred R. Conrad, The New York Times

In its May 1882 issue The Manufacturer and Builder reported on the progress.  “There will be seven hydraulic elevators, and the same number of stairways in iron and marble.  The woodwork will be elaborately carved.”  Hardenbergh assured residents their privacy by placing the entrances within a gated courtyard.  The main carriage gate--a 20-foot high arched entrance--opened onto 72^nd Street.  On the opposite end of the courtyard was a smaller “tradesmen’s gate” where delivery wagons entered, trash and ashes were removed, and through which the servants came and went.  (In the 20^th century the tradesmen’s gate received the romantic name “The Undertaker’s Gate,” despite that it was most likely never used for that purpose.)

The courtyard allowed residents to get in and out of their carriages in privacy.  The Daily Graphic, September 10, 1884 (copyright expired)

On October 21, 1882 The Record & Guide described the style as being “in the main, a reminiscence of French Renaissance.”  Architectural critics have argued the point for more than a century.   It has been described as German Renaissance, Chateauesque, Brewery Brick, and even “Victorian Kremlin.”  In fact, it is a melding of historic styles--Hardenbergh’s own hybrid. 

The Dakota, which the Record & Guide said was “the very earliest attempt on a large scale to attract fashion to the west side of the park,” was completed in 1884.  By then the cost had risen to “between $1,500,000 and $2,000,000,” according to the journal, which added on February 7, 1885, “the rents range from $1,000 to $5,600.”  

For that, however, residents enjoyed upscale amenities.  Maids arrived every day, as did porters who removed the ashes, and replaced coal and firewood for the stoves and fireplaces.  Laundry was taken away and returned freshly cleaned and ironed.  The main floor restaurant was in the style of an English baronial hall; but for those tenants who preferred to eat in, meals would be delivered and served by the restaurant staff.  On the roof was a promenade with gazebos and pergolas and canopied sunshades.  And for the more athletically inclined the adjoining lot to the side held private tennis courts for residents’ use. 

from The Sanitary Engineer, 1885 (copyright expired)

On October 27, 1884 the Daily Graphic entitled an article “A Description of One of the Most Perfect Apartment Houses in the World” and called The Dakota “the largest, most substantial, and most conveniently arranged apartment house of the sort in this country.” 

A glimpse of the rooftop promenade and a pergola can be seen in this 1965 photograph by the Historic American Buildings Survey.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Among the early residents were the family of Theodor Steinway, of Steinway & Sons; music publisher Gustav Shirmer and his wife; John Browning, the founder of the Upper West Side’s exclusive Browning School for boys; and Edward Bascomb Harper, president and founder of the Mutual Reserve Fund Life Insurance Company.  Others included John D. Adams of the chewing gum firm; and engineer John B. McDonald who built the first subway. 

The completed building was surrounded by unpaved streets and vacant lots.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

The New York Sun found the extravagance of some residents inexcusable.  In an article in May 1890 it complained “A tenant with a five years’ lease in the Dakota flats has spent $5,000 in decorating the walls of his apartment.”  (It was a large amount, equal to nearly $150,000 today.)  But those who lived in The Dakota could well afford it.  

It was no coincidence that Frederick G. Bourne, president of the Singer Sewing Machine Company, had an apartment here.  He nearly lost his life on February 23, 1897 when he went for a ride in Central Park.  His relaxing jaunt turned terrifying when his saddle horse was spooked and began galloping down the Park Driveway.  Bourne was thrown to the pavement, breaking his arm.  The Tribune reported “he was taken to his home in the Dakota flats…in a carriage.” 

After the turn of the century the laundry was moved from the top floor to a large boiler room under the tennis courts.  On the afternoon of April 18, 1910 several employees were at work there, including 52-year old Ellen Cleary, who was working on a steam wringer.  Suddenly the massive boiler exploded.  The Evening Telegram reported “A huge piece of iron struck her in the leg and she fell to the floor unconscious.”  All the other employees ran from the room in panic; but when the danger seemed to have subsided, they rushed back. 

“James Williams, an employee of the place, saw the woman was badly injured and made a tourniquet of a sheet, which he placed above the wound to stop the flow of blood.”  An ambulance arrived to find that “the Cleary woman’s leg had been almost torn off and was hanging by shreds of flesh.  He immediately amputated the limb.”  The force of the explosion had broken out several of the lower floor windows. 

The tradition of the heads of the Singer Sewing Machine Company residing in The Dakota continued with Sir Douglas Alexander and his wife, the former Helen Hamilton Gillespie.  Alexander was the sixth president of the firm which he had joined as a clerk in his native Canada in 1891.   Upon his appointment to the Board of Directors in 1896 the couple moved to New York.  He was created a baronet of Edgehill, near Stamford, Connecticut, on July 2, 1921 by King George V.  Lady Alexander died in their Dakota apartment on March 19, 1923.

By 1959 the tenant list, while still highly affluent, had somewhat changed.  Nan Robertson, writing in The New York Times on September 7, 1959, grouped the residents into three categories: "the diplomatic corps, upper-echelon show business and publishing."  Included in the diplomatic contingent were the ambassadors to the United States of the Netherlands, Portugal, Finland and the former Ambassador from the Soviet Union.  "Theatrical tenants, to name a few," said the article, "are Boris Karloff, Eric Portman, Judy Holliday, Jose Ferrer and his wife, Rosemary Clooney, Zachary Scott and his wife, Ruth Ford, Jo Mielziner, the set designer, and Sidney Kingsley, the playwright."  C. D. Jackson, a top executive of Time, Inc. occupied the 17-room Edward C. Clark apartment on the sixth floor.

The Dakota still maintained a staff of 52, described by Robertson as "like wondrous fossils from the Age of Gracious Living."  And it was still owned by the Clark family.  One resident said "You never saw a building so superbly maintained.  The bronze is petted, the mahogany oiled, the brass rubbed, the floors waxed."  By now the former warren of servants' rooms on the eight and ninth floors were rented "to a chosen few tenants for $25 and $30 a month."

With motion picture stars inside, The Dakota became a film celebrity in its own right in 1968 with it served as the location of Roman Polanski's psychological horror film Rosemary's Baby.

photo by Half Sigma

In 1973 singer John Lennon and his wife, Yoko Ono, moved into an apartment, adding their names to those of other famous residents like Leonard Bernstein, Roberta Flack and Lauren Bacall.  Two years later, on January 26, 1975 a catty journalist suggested that the two had split up, writing in a Twin Falls, Idaho newspaper "Yoko still lives in their expensive New York City Dakota Apartment and drives around town in the Lennon limo.  John is hanging out with a swinging black dancer on Manhattan's West Side."

Seven years later the couple had acquired five apartments consisting of 26 rooms, plus a ground-floor office.  On the night of December 8, 1980, the Lennons left the building headed to a recording session.  A fan, Mark Chapman, approached John and asked him to autograph a copy of "Double Fantasy," Lennon's latest album.  He did so, writing "John Lennon, 1980."  Several hours later the Lennons returned home.  John stepped back through the gate to the crowd of fans to sign autographs.  Chapman was still there and he emptied his .38-calibre pistol into Lennon's back and left arm.  The former Beatle was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital.

Many of the 1884 interior details remain throughout.  photo via Brown Harris Stevens

Today The Dakota is regarded as America's second most famous address--the first being 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.  While almost ever other Victorian apartment house fell from fashion or, more often, was demolished, The Dakota never lost its upscale reputation.  And, also unlike most, its interiors are for the most part secured.  Residents who wish to modernize their apartments are required to store any architectural elements--like mantels or woodwork--so they can be reinstalled later.

The 1883 James B. Randol House - 17 West 73rd Street

Somewhat beleaguered today, the house was once upscale.  A brownstone stoop originally led to the arched doorway, now a window.

In 1882, two years after sewing machine mogul Edward C. Clark started construction on his Dakota Apartment on Central Park West between 72nd and 73rd Streets, he brought back architect Henry Janeway Hardenberg for another ambitious project.   Hardenberg designed 28 townhouses, stretching from No. 15 to 67 West 73rd Street, between Central Park West and Columbus Avenue.  Their German Renaissance detailing was no doubt purposely intended to meld with the hulking Dakota.

Construction was done in two phases.  No. 17 was within the first group, finished in 1883.  (Nos. 29-67 were completed a year later).   Its high English basement and parlor level were clad in light-colored sandstone; while the upper floors were faced in red brick.  Stone quoins ran up the sides to the mansard attic and brick gable.  The somewhat somber personality of the design was accentuated by the grim bas relief portrait between the second floor openings.

In contrast to the ominous hooded face in the spandrel panel, pretty Esthetic Movement brackets in the form of leaves uphold the molded sills.

Clark did not sell the townhouses; but leased them to upscale families.  No. 17 became home to the James Butterworth Randol family.   A mining engineer, Randol was born in Newburgh, New York in 1836.  He married Christiana Terhune on June 1, 1865 and whisked his bride to the far West.

Randol's uncle, Samuel Butterworth was the general manager of the Quicksilver Mining Company near San Jose and hired him as its secretary.  Upon Butterworth's retirement in 1870, Randol moved into his post with an annual salary of $12,000--a little over a quarter of a million dollars today.  He held the position for 25 years, in the meantime purchasing the Mirabel silver mine.

James Randol was astonishingly progressive regarding worker welfare.  He established company health benefits at $1 per month cost to the workers, and included staff doctors on the payroll.  He built three "Helping Hand Clubs" for employee entertainment, including a 450-volume library.
.
At the time when the population of California was booming, the couple wisely invested in real estate in San Jose.  James was, as well, a director of the Bank of California and several other San Francisco firms.

Upon his retirement the Randols moved back east and into No. 17.   The couple's three children, William Merwin, Mary and Elizabeth were still unmarried.  William, who graduated from Harvard in 1891, was vice-president and manager of the Standard Quicksilver Company.  Now he was president of the New York and Philadelphia Coal and Coke Company.

Christiana had been known as a hostess in California and slipped into that role, on a smaller scale, in New York.   The house was in the center of a social spotlight on November 20, 1900 when Mary's wedding to Charles Carroll, of the historically illustrious Baltimore family, was held here.  Immediately after the reception, the newlyweds left for California where, among their activities, Mary showed off the family's former home, Casa Grande, to her husband on December 8.

In January 1903 William's engagement to Mary Digges Lee of Baltimore was announced.  Mary's family was no less historically important than the Carrolls' and, in fact, the two families had been connected when her ancestor, John Lee, married Harriet Carroll in 1832.  On February 7, 1903 Christiana and Elizabeth hosted a tea for Mary in the 73rd Street house.

The socially notable wedding was planned for November, but as the date neared, James Randol became disturbingly ill.   And then, on November 7, the Washington DC Evening Star reported "On account of illness in the family of Mr. Randal [sic] the invitations of the marriage of Miss Mary Digges Lee and Mr. William Merwin Randal [sic] have been recalled.  The ceremony will take place very quietly on November 11 at 'Needwood Forest.'"  (Needwood Forest was the ancestral Lee plantation, originally around 1,500 acres.)

The day after the wedding, the newspaper followed up, saying that "Owing to the grave illness of the bridegroom's father the wedding was a very quiet one."  That concern had been well founded.   Just over a month later, on December 23, 1903, James Butterworth Randol died at No. 17 at the age of 67.

Christiana and Elizabeth remained in the house, alone with their servants.  It was a target of burglars in the summer of 1914, a period when, according to insurance firms, 52 Upper West Side homes had been broken into between May and July.  Frustrated by the inability of police to stop the thefts, The Sun, on July 31, said the burglars used the neighborhood "as playgrounds" and that insurance adjusters declared "that housebreakers were having a picnic in that part of town."

On January 29, 1919 the 74-year old Christiana Terhune Randol died "suddenly" in the house.  Her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.  Elizabeth, still unmarried, left soon afterward.

The Clark family leased the house next to George A. and Dagmar Bolle Weinmann.  They were here less than a year when George died on March 11, 1920.  The house was once again the scene of funeral, this one on March 14.

Like Elizabeth Randol, Dagmar Weinmann left the house.  It became the home of the family of Dr. Alexander Nicoll by May.

A native New Yorker, Nicoll graduated from the College of Physicians and Surgeons at Columbia University in 1903.  During World War I he served in the United States Medical Corps as a lieutenant colonel.  When the family moved into No. 17 he had been director of the first surgical division of Fordham Hospital for three years.  His wife was the former Adeline Burdett Bliss.

The surgeon's cases sometimes made news, but none was more publicized than that of John H. Reid on whom Nicoll operated on May 25, 1921.   Reid had crossed paths with one of the Roaring '20's most notorious figures, Robert Arthur Tourbilon.  The gangster was sometimes called "Ratsy" for his initials, but best known by his alias "Dapper" Don Collins.  Collins was infamous nationwide for his involvement in con games, white slavery, and liquor smuggling.

On the morning of May 15 Reid was a guest at a "breakfast party" in the home of Mrs. Helen Warner in the Bronx.  Things came to a quick end when Collins shot Reid in the face.   Ten days later Nicoll operated to remove bullet fragments from his spine.  The Evening World reported "It was found that one of the bullets fire by Collins penetrated Reid's mouth, passed downward and shattered the fifth cervical vertebrae."   The slippery Dapper Don was still on the loose.

After owning them for four decades, in 1922 the Clark family began selling the 73rd Street houses.  On August 14 Nicoll purchased No. 17.

An operation performed by Alexander Nicoll on April 11, 1923 drew press attention because of his innovative approach to pain relief.  Edward Higgins was awake during his hernia operation and it seems Nicoll was concerned that the local anesthesia would not be effective enough.  He placed headphones on his patient which were connected to a radio.  As he operated, Higgins listened to a comedy show broadcast from Newark, New Jersey.

Because his patient used headphones, Nicoll and his assistants were not distracted.  Higgins, on the other hand, was.  The New York Times reported that he "laughed at one time during the tedious operation at jokes by a comedian."

The debutante events for Margaret Emma Nicoll took place during the 1928-29 social season.  Equally impressive were the events surrounding her wedding to John E. Gerli on April 24, 1932.  Her future in-laws hosted a dinner dance in the Central Park Casino the night before.  The ceremony was held in St. Bartholomew's Church, followed by a reception in the Louis XVI Ballroom of the Park Lane Hotel.

The family remained at No. 17 through the early years of the Great Depression.  It was purchased on April 6, 1936 by Edmund M. Vansleben, "for occupancy."  But like many investors at the time, his assertion that he would maintain it as his own single-family home was not true.

Within the year it had been converted to apartments.  The stoop was removed and the entrance moved to the former basement level.

Christine Zam lived with her husband in one of the apartments in 1964.  The couple decided to take an evening stroll around the neighborhood on Halloween night that year.  As they walked along 82nd Street, a terrifying incident was taking place further uptown.

Monroe Schall and his wife Doris, were parked in front of the apartment house at No. 123 West 93rd Street.  In the car was June Baron.  The three were waiting for June's husband, Leon, to come down.  Suddenly, at around 7:30, an armed man forced his way into the car and ordered Schall to drive.  Within a few blocks, he ordered Schall to stop, took June's purse, pushed her out of the car, then told Schall to drive to 84th Street and Riverside Drive.  There he took Schall's wallet, forced the couple out and drove off with their car.

Speeding through the Upper West Side, he sideswiped a taxi at the intersection of 82nd Street and Broadway.  He lost control and crashed into the window of a store.  In doing so, he hit Christine Zam.  She died on the scene.

The injured culprit ran from the scene, and then tried to hijack another motorist who grappled with the gun.  Before David Barnes was able to wrest control of the weapon away it went off once, missing both men.  The New York Times reported "the thug then leaped out of the car and fled east down 79th Street."

Unexpectedly, the stained glass parlor floor transom survives.

In 1986 No. 17 underwent another renovation, resulting in two apartments per floor.  Despite the abuse, the 135-year old home still has hints of its former glory, when a silver magnate and a radio-playing surgeon lived here.

photographs by the author