McKim, Mead & White's 1893 Cable Building - Broadway and Houston Street

photograph by Beyond My Ken

The rapid-fire development in the decades following the Civil War opened new neighborhoods to the east and west of Central Park.   The various street car companies rushed to add tracks and expand their services.  But with extended routes and more cars there came a problem.   The horses were often overworked and stifling summer heat took its toll.  One passenger wrote that the trip from Manhattan to Harlem could take an hour and twenty minutes providing that “no horse balked or fell dead across the tracks.”

The Chicago City Railroad Company found a solution to the problem when it opened its cable traction system in January 1882.   New York City firms took notice, among them the Broadway Cable Railroad Co., which joined other street railroad companies in converting from horse to cable power.

It was no small process, and in addition to the laying of miles of cable was the erection of facilities to power the system and pull the streetcars.   John D. Crimmins, a director in the Broadway Cable Railroad, Co. remarked on the grueling process during an on October 21, 1892.  He was interviewed by George Alfred Townsend "about the cable railroad system which he has been so largely instrumental in constructing on Broadway," as reported in the Record & Guide.  

"When will the Broadway Cable railroad be opened?" he was asked.

"I think not before December next.  It is the hardest job of the kind that has been done in this country."

The laying of the cable was especially difficult at corners and turns.  The "shive pit" at the corner of Houston Street and Broadway alone was 20-feet deep.  It was at this intersection that the company's massive headquarters building, sitting atop its powerhouse, was already rising.

The neighborhood had been among Manhattan's most exclusive residential districts in the 1830s.  No. 621 Broadway, for instance, had long been the home of Gerard Stuyvesant, son of Nicholas Stuyvesant and nephew of Peter Gerard Stuyvesant.  He fought commercial encroachment until his death in 1859.

But now Broadway was lined not with two- and three-story brick houses, but modern lofts and stores.  The Broadway Cable Railroad Co. had commissioned McKim, Mead & White to design its new structure, which would be given the obvious name The Cable Building.   The plot engulfed much of the block with 127.6 feet fronting Broadway, 200 feet along Houston Street, and another 128.8 feet on Mercer Street.   It would take nearly three years to complete construction.

The architects faced the challenge of housing mammoth equipment below ground--the four wheels pulling the steel cables were 32-feet in diameter--without disturbing the commercial and business tenants above.  The New York Times explained the solution:  "The foundations are entirely distinct and separate from those of the power room, containing the engines and machinery of the cable railway. As a consequent, not the slightest tremor or vibration can be felt in any part of the building."

Completed in September 1893, the Cable Building rose eight floors above street level.  A two-story limestone base supported beige brick embellished with Beaux Arts terra cotta decorations.  The tripartite design featured regimented arches at each of the three levels.  A chamfered corner at Broadway and Houston Street provided additional sunlight to the upper floors and allowed for an extra shop window at sidewalk level.

The arched motif ended, for some reason, abruptly above the Broadway entrance portico. The architects made certain to include Broadway Cable Railroad Co. cablecars in their rendering.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, November 12, 1892 (copyright expired)

On December 19, 1893 The New York Times wrote "The massive appearance of the structure is relieved by the graceful sweep of its broad arches, the tasteful ornamentation of caps and bases of piers, the mullions, the pillared entrance, and the magnificent cornice, which gives a sightly sky line."

The "pillared entrance" pointed out by the article was enhanced by 11-foot high bas reliefs of two classically-clad women on either side of a round opening containing a clock.  They were executed by sculptor J. Massey Rhind.

The striking entrance was featured in The American Architect and Building News on June 16, 1894 (copyright expired)

The offices and factories within the building received natural light not only from the exposed three sides; but from a 3,000 square foot interior light court.   Tenants could get from one side of the building to another by using the "glass-enclosed galleries" on each floor that straddled the light court.  

There were two passenger elevators and two freight elevators.  The freight entrance was on Mercer Street and the architects prevented the possibility of trucks jamming the street by included a "delivery room."   "Here trucks can drive in and load and unload under cover on a platform alongside the elevators," explained The Times.

The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide called the structure "magnificent" and said "its architecture expresses distinctly the highest achievement of the art in this country at this time."  

The Broadway Cable Railroad Co., which became the Metropolitan Traction Co. a year later, took up most of the eighth floor, along with its related companies.  The entire ground floor retail space was taken by William Vogel & Son.    Until now the firm had limited itself to manufacturing men's and boys' clothing for other retailers in its factory at No. 10 White Street .  Now it opened its own massive retail store.

The Evening World, September 20, 1893 (copyright expired)

On September 17, 1893 The New York Times remarked on the imposing new emporium.  “If the spacious ceiling were of a blue tint, its 1,200 electric lights would make it look like a couple of acres of the firmament dragged down and anchored in Broadway for the special benefit of William Vogel & Son’s imposing enterprise.”  

On April 17, 1895 The Evening World (no doubt prompted by a monetary inducement) offered a glowing review.  "Every man who wears substantial, stylish clothes and furnishing goods should visit the great store of William Vogel & Son, 611 to 621 Broadway...This firm manufactures its stock, and every garment is tested and sold at reasonable prices."

The article pointed out the sporting apparel.  "Wheelmen may find bicycle suits here in many styles, including the League pattern, and breeches in the bloomer and golf patterns, made of twills, chevlots and fancy tweeds.  Such 50-cent pretty neckwear is seldom seen in a Broadway house for the same money."

The upper floors filled with a wide variety of tenants, including architect Louis Korn; the building materials dealers Livingston & Nesbit; J. L. Walker & Co., makers of neckwear; the Pacific Rubber Company; real estate operators Lalor & Beringer; Knickerbocker Silver Company; the Royal American Enamel Company; and D. M. Schoenfeld, jewelry, among many others.

Less than three years after its opening, a fire broke out on the third floor of the Cable Building at about 6:00 on the evening of April 22, 1896.  The building was still heavily occupied.  Despite its fireproof design, The New York Time reported "It burned rapidly, and soon spread through three offices.

In the panic that ensued, there was a shocking absence of manly gallantry.  "There was a general rush for the elevators by those still in the building," reported the newspaper, "and it was reported that the men in their anxiety to reach the street crowded out the women, who took to the freight elevators."

While businessmen rushed to safety, the wife of the janitor, Mrs. Charles Kammerer, took control of a freight elevator.  She "did not hesitate to return to the floors above after carrying down the first lot of passengers."

The building suffered $5,000 damage (about $147,000 today); while the total loss to tenants, much of it from water damage, was about $20,000.

The Cable Building was the scene of tragedy on January 16, 1897.   Charles Rothchild had worked for the cloak manufacturer Benjamin & Caspary until 1896 when he struck out on his own.  His timing was bad, however.   The country was still suffering the effects of the Financial Panic of 1893 and, according to The New York Times on January 17, 1897, "The season...was disastrous, and, after spending most of his savings, Rothchild gave up the business three weeks ago."

When he left his Brooklyn home that morning he was despondent and his wife, fearing the worst, followed him to the Cable Building.

The Times reported "Just before 10:30 o'clock, Edward Lynch, an employe[e] of the Metropolitan Traction Company, was looking into the lightshaft from the east side, when he saw Rothchild at the western window.  The man cast aside his black derby and then looked down the shaft."  Lynch next noticed him on one of the shaft bridges.  "Rothschild raised the window, and, without looking out, jumped through the opening.  Lynch cried out.  Many persons who have offices abutting the shaft were attracted by the yells of Lynch, and saw Rothchild falling."

Among those who heard the screams was Mrs. Rothchild.  Running to the hallway she exclaimed "It is my husband!" and tried to reach a window.  She was held back by several tenants, one of which tried to convince her it was a "Mr. Smith," not her husband.  She broke away and saw her dead husband on the pavement below.

"She became violently hysterical, and finally started to climb out of the window to kill herself," said The Times.  She was subdued by tenants and taken to St. Vincent's Hospital.

In November that year a one-room office was leased to Charles G. Willoughby.  While growing up on a farm he had become fascinated with cameras.   Now he tried his hand at selling cameras and related products.  While he did well from the start, he became among the first to offer roll film, which was replacing the difficult glass plates.  It turned Willoughby's adequately-successful business into a booming enterprise.  It quickly outgrew the one-room operation in the Cable Building and by mid-century was among the largest camera dealers in America.

Just eight years after the building was completed, the cable car system for which it was erected was obsolete.  On May 25, 1901 the last of Metropolitan Railway Company's cables was taken up.   The Times reported "Nearly a thousand of the Metropolitan Street Railway Company's men last night removed the cable from Broadway to prepare for the installation of electricity on that thoroughfare."

Old street car men watched the process with nostalgia.  "When the end was passing by them over the wheels fully twenty of them clustered about that spot touched, each in turn, the departing steel rope, with the audible: 'Good-bye, cable.'"

The Art Metal Works was producing decorative home items here in 1906  Notions and Fancy Goods, January 1907 (copyright expired)

The building continued to be home to a variety of firms.  Among the tenants in 1906 were A. F. O'Connor, "atomizers and toilet novelties;" paper dealers White & Wickhoff Mfg. Co.; and the the Kelsey-Herbert Company, makers of "toilet mirrors and French stag ware."

Notions and Fancy Goods, July 1907 (copyright expired)

Little by little more millinery firms moved into the Cable Building, including the Florence Hat Company, headed by Jonas F. Durlacher.   He and his wife were delighted when his daughter, Adah, caught the eye of a double-titled French nobleman, the Marquis de Fauconcourt and Count d'Ollone.  The Times reported that he explained to Adah "he had inherited the titles of Marquis and Count, an that he had much wealth."

The couple was on their honeymoon in Atlantic City on November 3, 1909 when a telegram arrived at The New York Times Paris office.  A suspicious reporter had been digging into the Count's story.  The cable came from the Vicomte d'Ollone who said flatly that the bridegroom was an imposter.

With a copy of the message in hand, a reporter rushed to the Durlacher house in Brooklyn.  Jonas Durlacher was offended, saying "I don't believe a word of it" and insisted that his new son-in-law had produced passports to prove his pedigree.  "When he asked me for permission to marry my daughter a few weeks ago I told him that I would not consent to it unless he proved beyond doubt that he was all that he represented himself to be.  You see, I did not propose to have any bogus titles going into my family."

Durlacher marched to the telephone and demanded that the couple return to Brooklyn.   When they arrived the following day the Count responded "Preposterous!" to the accusations.

But later, in private, Henry Marie Gustave d'Ollone was forced to admit he had made up the story.  Although shocked and humiliated, Adah told reporters "that she still dearly loved her husband, and would not think of giving him up.  She had married him for love, she said, and not for titles or money."

The revelation caused problems for her father, however.   On October 20 Durlacher had been arrested on larceny charges.  Walter Schmidt of the Weideler Feather Company accused him of getting money "under false pretenses."  The Times reported "Mr. Durlacher publicly stated in police court that if Mr. Schmidt would not press the charge he would soon have plenty of money to pay, as his daughter was about to marry a wealthy French nobleman."

The day after d'Ollone's confession Durlacher was back in jail, held on $1,000 bail.

In 1926 Joseph Ruff ran his merchandising export business, Joseph Ruff & Co. from the Cable Building.  He was married to the daughter of the well-known merchant Jacob Rosenthal.  When Ruff went to Mexico City on August 23 that year, his father-in-law came along.

Rose Ruff received a frightening telegram on September 13 from her husband that read "Pappa kidnapped.  No danger.  Expect release today."  

On Sunday, September 12 Rosenthal, Ruff, and two friends, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Zahler, were in an automobile, traveling from Cuernavaca to Mexico City, when it was overtaken by bandits.  Everyone but Rosenthall was released.  Ruff waited nervously in his hotel room for three days before a letter arrived, demanding that 20,000 pesos be delivered by horseback to a spot on the road near where Rosenthal had been kidnapped.

Ruff told officials at the American Embassy and the local police, and asked permission to delivery the ransom.  But the Mexican authorities refused and sent two under-cover soldiers in hopes of capturing the gang.  It was a fatal move.

On September 15 the bandits recognized the approaching men as troops.  Not wanting to be captured with their hostage, they brutally murdered the elderly American with machetes.

A year later, almost to the day, Joseph Ruff died in his Woodmere, Long Island home.  The Times noted "Mr. Ruff was much shaken by the experience [of Rosenthal's murder], but his family said last night that his death was due to other causes."

In 1929 17-year old Helen Protovin initiated a surprisingly early example of sexual harassment charges against Henry Kahn.  The 41-year old was a resident buyer with offices in the Cable Building.  She went to his office in February answering a want-ad for a stenographer.  She was hired on the spot; but the next day "he made improper advances to her."  The teen rushed out and went to the police.  Kahn was arrested for disorderly conduct.

Although by now the greatest percentage of tenants were in the millinery business, there were at least two publishers here.  Fairchild Publishing had moved in around the turn of the century.  The publisher of journals related to the apparel, textile and home furnishings industries, its Women's Wear Daily, Daily News Record and The Retailing Daily became essential within the industries, and remain so into the 21st century.

The International Confectioner, founded by T. F. Harvey, was a trade journal for the candy and baking industries.  It remained in the Cable Building for decades, until Harvey's son, George U. Harvey, was forced to sell in June 1931.

By the Depression years the building had sprouted fire escapes.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library

Things were hard for the owners of the Cable Building, as well, at the time.  On January 12, 1930 The New York Times had reported "The eight-story commercial structure known as the Cable Building...will be sold at foreclosure proceedings on Jan. 30."

In the 1930s the United States saw a rise in Socialist and Communist organizations; one which sparked a backlash by conservative citizens.  On September 1937 a newly formed group, the Knights of Progress, opened its headquarters in the Cable Building,

Lewis B. Smith, the head of the group, said it was "dedicated to Americanism" and intended to combat "any subversive activities, schemes or plans aimed at the sanctity and security of these United States of America."   Among those targeted was President Franklin D. Roosevelt.   In reporting on the opening of the headquarters on September 14, 1937, The New York Times wrote "Assailing the Communists in particular, Mr. Smith asserted that his organization would "definitely show a direct tie-up between the Communist party and the present New Deal Administration."

The change in the Noho neighborhood in the last half of the 20th century was perhaps best exemplified when the cavernous former machine rooms below ground were converted to the Angelika Film Center in 1989.   Indicative of the trendy new neighborhood, the theater continues to screen independent and foreign films.

The ambitious 1893 copper cornice, somewhat surprisingly, survives.  photograph by the author

The McKim, Mead & White structure survives nearly intact--an imposing presence on the Broadway and Houston Street corner after 125 years.

many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for suggesting this post.

The 1904 Eddy Palmer House - 11 West 73rd Street

In the fall of 1902 developers W. W. & T. M. Hall commissioned the well-known firm of Welch, Smith & Provot to design a row of upscale townhouses that would stretch from No. 3 to 11 West 73rd Street.  Brothers William and Thomas Hall were highly active in developing the uptown neighborhoods on both sides of Central Park, and often worked with the architects.

According to the Record & Guide on November 22, 1902, the "4 and 5 story and basement dwellings" were projected to cost a total of $150,000--in the neighborhood of $863,000 each today.

No. 11 anchored the row at the western (near) end.

The stately row was completed in 1904.  Each of the upscale homes was slightly different; but they flowed together as a harmonious whole.  No. 11, at the west end of the row, was a surprising blend of French and American architecture--with a Beaux Arts limestone-faced base decorated with carved swags.  The double doors, above the sweeping low stone stoop embraced by curving iron railings, were guarded by elegant iron grills.

In sharp contrast, the second through fourth floors echoed early American roots.  The neo-Federal facade was faced in Flemish bond red brick; their headers charred to intimate age.  Limestone keystones within the splayed brick lintels were elements of the Federal style.  The fifth floor took the form of a copper-covered mansard where two dormers featured Doric pilaster and triangular pediments.

The houses sold quickly.  On October 1, 1904 The New York Times reported that W. W. & T. M. Hall had sold No. 11 and added "This house is one of five recently completed by this firm of builders and is the third to be disposed of within a few weeks."  The buyer of No. 11 was Eddy Palmer, who paid $50,000 or just under $1.4 million in today's dollars.

Eddy and his wife, Emma, had three children, sons Lubin and Solon, and daughter, Irene.  Eddy was a partner in his father's perfume and cosmetics company, the Solon Palmer Company.  Founded in 1847, the firm's products competed with French perfumes and powders; a significant struggle given the infatuation of upper class women for all things French.  Less affluent female shoppers, however, made the company a huge success and its owners wealthy.

While Emma was involved in a few social groups--she was a member of the Universal Sunshine Society, for instance--her husband seems to have remained focused on business.  His name does not appear on the membership lists of social or political clubs, and the family's name rarely appeared in society pages for their entertainments.

An exception was on October 26, 1910 when Irene was married to James Oliver Boon of Nashville, Tennessee in the Church of All Angels on West 81st Street and West End Avenue.  Lubin, now married, and Solon were among the ushers.  Understandably the church was filled with out-of-towners.  The New-York Tribune noted that the "ceremony was followed by a reception at the home of the bride's parents."

Eddy Palmer added to his investments by purchasing real estate.  In June 1917, he paid about $700,000 for the newly-erected 13-story apartment house at No. 420 West End Avenue.

Palmer died at No. 11 on February 25, 1934.  His estate, just over $33.5 million today, went mostly to his sons.  Emma received a life interest in the 73rd Street house (valued at about $3.4 million by today's standards) and "personal property."

The road ahead for the Palmer mansion looked bleak in 1955 when it was described in Department of Building document as having 18 "furnished rooms."  But Edward J. and Joy Hornick came to its rescue in 1959.

They did a renovation that resulted in a doctor's office and apartment (to be "used conjunctively" according to the Department of Buildings) on the first floor, and a single family residence above.  The 1904 exterior was untouched but for one striking addition.

Two bronze silhouette portraits of Franklin D. Roosevelt and Sigmund Freud on marble roundels were installed within the tympani of second floor windows.  The men were admired by Hornick for their history-changing contributions.

Roosevelt's cigarette and holder are executed in full relief.

Dr. Edward J. Hornick, Jr. was chief of clinical psychiatry at the Manhattan Psychiatric Center on Wards Island, as well as clinical professor of psychiatry at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine at Yeshiva University, and the New York University School of Medicine.  Born in  Pittsburgh, he had graduated from the University of Pennsylvania's School of Medicine and the Columbia University Psychoanalytic Center.

The ground floor office and apartment were leased to  friend and colleague, Dr. John W. Thompson.  He, too, was a professor of psychiatry at Albert Einstein College; but he was internationally known as an authority on mental disorders caused by "disasters and persecution"--conditions that fall into the modern term Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  The New York Times later said that "In his private practice, at 11 West 73d Street, he preferred to treat the psychotic, or most severely disturbed, patient."

Following World War II he was the chairman of the Committee for the Rehabilitation of Victims of Manmade Disasters.   He founded a "therapeutic community," as described by The Times, near Paris to treat concentration camp survivors.   With other American physicians and psychiatrists, he was successful in encouraging the German Government to compensate concentration camp victims.

Dr. Edward J. Hornick died of cancer at the age of 66 on September 25, 1984.  The following year, on August 23, John W. Thompson suffered a heart attack while on vacation in St. Thomas, Virgin Island.  He was 59 years old.  Their deaths ended a remarkable chapter in the history of No. 11 West 73rd Street.

Joy Hornick remained in the house into first years of the 21st century.  Today passersby sometimes pause to examine the bronze portraits on the handsome facade.  Not all of them get the names right.

photographs by the author

The Lost Wm. B. Leeds Mansion - 987 Fifth Avenue

photo from Fifth Avenue New York City, 1911 (copyright expired)

William W. and Thomas M. Hall were prolific developers at the turn of the last century.  At a time when millionaires were lining Fifth Avenue across from Central Park with lavish palaces, the brothers joined the trend with speculative residences that held their own among the custom-designed mansions.

In 1899 they purchased the plot at 987 Fifth Avenue, just south of 80th Street, and commissioned the firm of Welch, Smith & Provot to design an opulent townhouse.  The $86,000 purchase price of the lot was evidence of the exclusive nature of the neighborhood.  It would equal about $2.6 million today.

In the meantime, a remarkable story had played out in the Midwest.  William B. Leeds was born in Indiana in 1856.  The New-York Tribune would later say of him, "His parents were poor and he made his first business venture in a very humble role--that of florist in his native town of Richmond."   In 1883, following his marriage to Jeanette Irene Gaar, the daughter of a Richmond banker, he was given a job with the Pennsylvania Railroad by a relative of his new wife.

In an astonishing Horatio Alger-worthy story, while working as a train conductor Leeds met and became friends with Daniel G. Reid who had a similar job on the railroad.   Within a few years the two young men left the railroad, pooled their savings, and purchased the controlling interest in a small tin plate mill in Richmond.  Energetic, ambitious and resourceful, they grew their business, acquiring more and more mills until they had formed the American Tin Plate Company which dominated the industry.

In 1901, the partners sold their corporation to the United States Steel Company for $46 million (about $1.3 billion today).   Leeds and Reid both returned to the railroads--now as controlling owners and executives of several lines.

Like his partner, William B. Leeds moved to New York City.  He had obtained a divorce in 1900 and, as reported by the New-York Tribune, "soon after Mr. Leeds married Mrs. Nannie May Stewart Worthing, also of Richmond, who had obtained a divorce from her husband, George Worthington."  The implication of extra-marital dalliance was clear.  His son by his first marriage, Rudolph, was sent off to the exclusive Phillips Andover Academy in Massachusetts.

Now William shopped for a new home, what The Virginia Enterprise deemed on April 19, 1901 "a gift for his bride."  That gift was No. 987 Fifth Avenue.   In March he paid W. W. & T. M. Hall $260,000 for the new mansion--more than $7.5 million in today's dollars.   The architects had produced a five story bowed-front confection of brick and limestone.  Its Beaux Arts facade was frosted with fussy French inspired decorations--broken pediments, garlanded cartouches, and iron window railings.  A stone balcony with wrought iron railings girded the fifth floor.  It along with the heavy bracketed cornice and crown-like balustrade gave the mansion a somewhat top-heavy appearance.

Rather surprising to some society columnists, Nonnie (familiarly known as Nancy) managed to slip into fashionable circles rather quickly.   On December 10, 1903 The Saint Paul Globe rather meanly wrote "Another member has been admitted to the ultra-fashionable set.  The newest 'arrival' is Mrs. William B. Leeds, the wife of the tinplate millionaire.  Mrs. Leeds forced her entry through the Long Island set, and, thanks to the Belmont family, she was introduced to every one worth while...Two years ago the second Mrs. Leeds did not exist for the New York set.  When Mr. and Mrs. Leeds settled in the house in No. 987 Fifth avenue, her neighbors said: 'Who, pray, is Mrs. Leeds, anyway?'

Nonnie "Nancy" Leeds - original source unknown

The catty columnist continued, "But Mrs. Leeds did not unbend and the neighbors saw a correctly gowned and graceful young woman going to and from her splendid victoria.  In Palm Beach last spring she put forth her claim as candidate for the right set.  Her husband is said to be worth $30,000,000 and this was her passport."

The neighbors included Hugh A. Murray (left), William J. Curtis next door, and the twin mansions of brothers Irving and Horace Brokaw.  from Fifth Avenue New York City, 1911 (copyright expired)

Nancy entertained lavishly in her new home and in the summer estate William leased on Long Island.  Her charm won over socially important women like Mrs. George Gould, Mrs. Henry H. Flagler and Mrs. Perry Belmont.  The Saint Paul Globe said "soon Mrs. Leeds was seen motoring with Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt Jr., and coaching with the Whitneys."

The Indianapolis Journal described her as "petite, with very delicate features.  She dresses remarkably well, prefers tints rather than colors, and is an extremely dainty figure in organdie or any light fabrics."

While Nancy was busy edging her way into high society, her husband focused on spending money.  On February 10, 1902 he launched his new 261-foot yacht the Norma, named for Nonnie.  The vessel, which cost him $500,000, had electric lighting and heating, and telegraph.

The Evening World reported that each of the vessel's eight state rooms had its own bath.  "A very elegant library extends the full width of the ship.  Galley, pantry, dining-room and smoking-room are situated in the main deck-house.  The women's sitting room is on the shade deck."  Leeds "elegant quarters" included a private office, state-room and bath.

Even though Leeds already owned a country home in Lakewood, New Jersey, in February 1902 he paid Thomas F. Young $200,000 for 400-acres near Theodore Roosevelt's Sagamore Hill in Oyster Bay, Long Island.  The Evening World reported "Mr. Leeds intends to build a large country place in the fashionable colony."  

The Music Room is pictured above.  Below is the Dining Room with its stained glass windows, beamed ceiling and highly unusual marble mantel.  photographer unknown from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In the meantime, young Reginald had managed to spark a news story that was reported across the country.  In the fall of 1902 both William and Nancy were ill.  While she rested in the Fifth Avenue mansion, William went to Hot Springs, Arkansas late in September to recuperate.

Sixteen-year old Rudolph read with interest the reports on the ongoing coup in Columbia.  In mid September he slipped away from his prep school "to help General Uribe-Uribe overthrow the government there," according to the Iowa newspaper the Evening Times-Republican.

The teen managed to get to Colon, where he purchased a ticket for Panama.  But by now his father had learned of his adventure.  Leeds contacted the American Consul General at Panama, H. A. Gudger, who was waiting when the train arrived.

"So when Mr. Leeds, full of martial enthusiasm, left the train and approached the first native who looked like a rebel, asking to be directed to the nearest camp, he was promptly captured by Mr. Gudger."  Reginald was packed onto the next steamship to New York.

William's masculine library (above) was a contrast to Nancy's very French "salon."   photographer unknown from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Reginald had a new half brother at the time.  William B. Leeds, Jr. was born on September 19, 1902.  Nancy redid one room of the mansion into a "playroom," a boy-cave that would make even an Astor or Vanderbilt child envious.

One end of little William's playroom shows shelves for toys which, when carefully put away, could be hidden behind curtains.    photographer unknown from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

A large staff of servants meant that motherhood did not interrupt Nancy's social calendar.   In February 1903 she took a risk which was sure to make the social columns when she planned a benefit "winter garden party" on Lincoln's Birthday at the Lakewood estate.  The New-York Tribune, on February 8, asked "What will happen in the event that a blizzard should chance to come, is of course a question, but the plan is to have a corps of young women in summer gowns and shade hats serve at tea tables among the trees on the lawn, while other summery young ladies wander about among the throng selling home-made candy, cake and valentines, and fancy and useful articles."
 
That summer, while the Oyster Bay house was being constructed, the Leeds summered in fashionable Saratoga.  The Indianapolis Journal noted that Nancy "has already made many friends at Saratoga...among her friends are Mrs. Sydney Smith, Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Oliver H. P. Belmont."

William Leeds was operated on for appendicitis that year.  He seemed to have come through the procedure with no problems; but then on December 3, 1905 The New York Times reported that he "is suffering from partial paralysis as a result of an operation for appendicitis performed two years ago."  The newspaper insisted, however, that "his condition was not serious and he was not even confined to his bed."  Leeds recovered, but it was obvious that the paralysis was not a result of his operation, but a stroke.

William and Nancy continued to broaden their social horizons, including buying the former Frederick W. Vanderbilt cottage, Rough Point, in Newport for half a million dollars.  But Leeds's health problems continued.  Towards the end of 1906 he suffered another stroke which again resulted in partial paralysis.  He traveled to Paris to consult a specialist.  (While her husband recuperated, Nancy went shopping, spending $340,000 on pearls at the Paris jewelry shop of Bernard Citroen.)

After about a year in France, the Leeds returned to New York in November 1907.  Two weeks later William suffered yet another stroke.  Once again his condition was downplayed in the press.  The New-York Tribune, on November 24, assured "The physicians who attended Mr. Leeds said that quiet and rest for a few days would put him in shape again."

William, Nancy and little William returned to Paris.  On the morning of June 23, 1908 the 52-year old died in their suite in the Hotel Ritz.  The New-York Tribune mentioned "Intimate friends in Paris to-day estimated his wealth at $35,000,000.

Four days later a funeral was held in Holy Trinity Church, "the American Church in Paris," according to the New-York Tribune.  The newspaper noted "Many prominent Americans were present."

On July 1 Leeds's casket was taken aboard the German steamship Kronprinz Wilhelm.  It arrived in New York on July 7 and the following afternoon a second funeral was held in the Fifth Avenue mansion.

William B. Leeds A National Register of the Society, Sons of the American Revolution, 1902 (copyright expired)

William's will left nearly his entire estate to Nancy and William, Jr.  Rudolph, now 22 years old and married, received $1 million--a relative sliver of the total which prompted The Richmond Palladium to opine "It would surprise none of Mr. Leeds' friends if the proceedings for probate were followed by a spirited contest."

But Rudolph accepted his father's decision, saying "The will of my father has been read and I am perfectly familiar with its contents.  The provisions of this will are entirely satisfactory to me."

Following her period of mourning, Nancy resumed her social life.  She sent William Jr. to the New Jersey estate where he attended the Montclair Academy.  He was reportedly surrounded by a staff of 20 servants and was escorted everywhere by two private detectives.   The six-year old had his own chauffeur and footman.

Nancy spent less and less time at No. 987 Fifth Avenue.  On January 1, 1911 The Sun reported "Mrs. William B. Leeds now has a home in London.  Few American hostesses have entertained so elaborately as she since the end of her period of mourning allowed her to give parties.  She has been welcomed there with a cordiality that indicates that she will probably find it to her taste to live there permanently."

Later that year, in July, The Sun mentioned that Rough Point "has been closed most of the time."  But it was rumored that Nancy would make a brief appearance in Newport.  "The expectation is now that Mrs. William B. Leeds will spend a few weeks at the resort.  She has a home in London and has taken a place in Scotland."

By the time of that article Nancy had sold No. 987 to Walter Lewisohn.  In reporting on the sale the Record & Guide pointed out that the Leeds had spent about $70,000 in "interior decorations and alterations."  The New York Times added "Although the house was magnificently fitted up by the Halls, Mr. Leeds added a marble hall and staircase and refitted the interior."  Included in the $350,000 sale price was "a portion of the furniture collected abroad by Mr. Leeds," said the Record & Guide.

photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

As a side note, Nancy married Prince Christopher of Greece in 1920, becoming Princess Anastasia of Greece and Denmark.  While visiting his mother the following year William met the 17-year old Princess Xenia of Greece.  Within 24 hours they were engaged, causing Nancy to weep for three days and nights, according to reports.

Walter Lewisohn and his wife, the former Selma Kraus, had one son, Walter, Jr.  Lewisohn was 31 years old when he purchased No. 987.  The Yale-educated broker was also vice-president and director of the Salt Lake Copper Co., an officer in the Tennessee Copper Co. and the Lewisohn Exploration & Mining Co., and a partner in the firm of banking firm Lewisohn Brothers.

The Lewisohns maintained a summer estate new Eatontown, New Jersey.  Selma's entertainments in the Fifth Avenue house were often grand, like the dance and supper she gave on Tuesday, January 27, 1914.

The entrance hall (above) and the first floor landing   photographer unknown from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Walter and Selma were drawn into a murder investigation in 1920.  They had dinner with Joseph Bowne Elwell and Selma's sister, Viola Kraus, on June 10 at the Ritz-Carlton Roof, then attended the midnight show at the New Amsterdam Theatre.  After the show everyone went their separate ways.

The following morning Elwell was found in the front hall of his home with a bullet hole in his head.  On June 14 the Lewisohns, Viola and her estranged husband were taken to the Elwell house for questioning.  The were released without suspicion; however the taint of the investigation remained for years.  The case was  never solved.

Shortly afterward Lewisohn suffered heavy losses in the stock market.  It was all too much for him to handle and on May 22, 1923 Selma committed him to the Blythewood Sanitarium for the Insane in Greenwich, Connecticut.

With her income gone and the Lewisohn fortune greatly depleted, Selma took to the operatic concert stage as Mme. Marie Selma.  She sold No. 987 to Elizabeth Carmichael in 1920 for $375,000.   Carmichael leased the furnished house to wealthy tenants like Colonel John F. Daniell, charging $40,000 a year.  But following the Stock Market crash, she lost it in foreclosure to the Franklin Savings Bank in May 1933.

After it sat vacant for more than five years, the bank sold the mansion in December 1939.  Writing in The New York Times, Lee E. Cooper said the old residence "has joined the long list of fine old Manhattan homes which are marked for early demolition."  But it received a reprieve of sorts, instead being converted to three- and four-room apartments within the year.

By the time No. 987 was sold again in 1959 the balustrade was gone and a sixth floor had appeared, set back on the roof.  Rather surprisingly it survived for nearly a decade.  Then, on January 31, 1968 The Times announced that the three old mansions at Nos. 985, 986 and 987 Fifth Avenue had been purchased by developer Bernard Spitzer.

Within the year the once elegant homes were gone, replaced by the 25-story 985 Fifth Avenue.  Among the building's most visible residents was the builder's son, New York Governor Eliot Spitzer.

The John & Hannah Burrows House - 112 West 17th Street

Originally a stone stoop led to the parlor floor.  Very close inspection reveals the scares of the openings just above the  storefront awnings.

On November 30, 1850 auctioneer A. J. Bleecker advertised the "private sale" of the property at No. 82 West 17th Street.   Included was "The Front and Rear House and Lot Ground."  Back buildings were common at the time.  Sometimes they were a small stable or shop; but in this case it was a two story wooden house with a brick basement.

Bleecker's announcement described the newly-constructed main house as "built of brick, 3 stories high, with basement and counter cellar, finished in good style, with marble mantels in parlor, &c."  It featured an attractive convenience--running water--described as "Croton water throughout."  Bleecker noted that the houses had been custom-built, stressing "both built by the owner."

The red brick main house, designed in the lately popular Greek Revival style, was trimmed in brownstone.  Its no-nonsense wooden cornice included a simple fascia board and blocky brackets.

The property did not sell until March the following year, bringing $6,000 at auction, just under $195,000 today.  It became home to John and Hannah Burrows, a respectable middle-aged couple.

Upon her husband's death in 1857, Hannah rented rooms for income.  Her advertisement on January 18, 1858 read "A widow lady, having more room than she needs, can accommodate a gentleman and lady with a neatly furnished back parlor; board for the lady; no other boarders taken."  Why Hannah offered to feed the woman but not the man is puzzling.

Her first boarder was "Miss Tice" who was possibly a school teacher.  She moved in at a time when New York City was plagued with a rash of burglaries.  And not long afterward, in May 1857, she became a victim.

Two months later, on July 25, The New York Herald wrote "Since the arrest of Cancemi, the Italian burglar and murderer, persons who have lost property within the last few months, have been besieging the property clerk of the Police Commissioner with description of their lost property and applications to see if any of it is among the articles found in Cancemi's possession."  Among those besiegers was Miss Tice.   Her list of expensive-sounding stolen goods was identified as Lot No. 56:

Miss Tice, 82 West Seventeenth street, lost about two months since: Red crape shawl, white [crepe shawl], silk velvet cloak, set of furs, tan colored silk dress, black silk basque, 3 mantillas, plain and figured; figured silk dress, 8 lockets, one with a likeness and chain; 7 breastpins, 3 pair earrings, 2 bracelets, cameo.

Hannah Burrows was 62 years old in 1858 and it appears she needed help now that she was taking in more boarders.  An advertisement in The New York Herald on January 26 that year sought "A girl to cook, wash and iron...must be cleanly and active."  Hannah offered wages of between $4 or $5, presumably depending on experience.  It was acceptable pay for an unskilled girl, equal to about $150 a week on the higher end.

The following year another widow, Mrs. Bloodgood, had taken rooms in the house.  On December 2 she suffered an emotional loss when she dropped her pocketbook in an Eighth Avenue street car.  Inside were a pair of gold earrings, $1.65 in change and "an old American silver dollar."  She placed a plea for their return in The New York Herald offering a $5 reward.  "The Pocketbook and silver dollar were the gifts of a deceased husband," she explained.

Hannah rented the rear house to black families.  There were four families living in the two-story building in 1861.  That fall a horrific accident occurred.

Peter Johnson and his wife lived in the second floor.  She was about 40-years old and severely afflicted with rheumatism.  Alone on the evening of September 30 between 8:00 and 9:00, she was carrying a lit kerosene lamp when she fell.  The New York Herald reported "One of the occupants of the lower part of the house heard Mrs. Johnson scream murder, and ran upstairs.  On entering the room witnessed [her] on the floor, in one blaze of fire, and the flames at the same time rushing out of the bedroom."

The unfortunate woman had already burned to death.  Fire fighters extinguished the blaze, but all the families were essentially wiped out.  The article said "The greater part of their household effects were destroyed by fire and water."  Saying the house was owned by "Mrs. Burroughs" [sic], the newspaper put the damaged to the little building at $500.  Hannah's losses were covered by insurance; but sadly "The tenants were not insured."

Hannah continued to hire young girls to help with the chores.  In August that year she advertised for "A smart, tidy girl to do general housework; must be a good washer and ironer, willing and obliging."  She made certain that applicants did not intrude into the marble manteled parlors.  "Apply at 82 West 17th st.; basement door."

In 1868 West 17th Street was renumbered, and Hannah Burrow's house became No. 112.  She died there on the morning of May 18 that year at the age of 72.  Her funeral was held in the nearby home of her daughter, who was married to John Roberts, Jr., at No. 205 West 18th Street.

The new owners continued to rent rooms, and like Hannah Burrows, were particular in their boarders.  An advertisement in The New York Herald on April 24, 1872 was clear;  "Desirable rooms--three, private house, gas and water, to a good party, without children."  And two years later a similar ad listed "Four cosey unfurnished rooms, on second floor, to a gentleman and wife; house private; no children; water, gas and closets; excellent neighborhood; rent $18."  The rent would equal a little over $390 per month today.

By around 1880 the house became the property of George D. Pitzipio and his wife, the former Adriene Owens.  The Pitzipio family was well-to-do and owned several other buildings throughout the city.  Adriene was the great-granddaughter of Lt. Jonathan Owens, earning her a membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution.

By now Sixth Avenue was a major shopping thoroughfare and the Pitzipios converted the basement level of No. 112 to a shop.  They leased it to George Meylan whose jewelry store lured female shoppers from the retail emporiums on the avenue.  But on Friday evening, March 9, 1888 it attracted a far different group.

Meylan was out and his wife was running the store when four men entered.  The New York Times reported "One of the men engaged Mrs. Meylan in conversation about repairing a clock, while the others remained outside.  When the man came out of the store, the others quickly tied the knob of the store to the railing and then smashed the window."

The crooks had only enough time to grab a single gold watch before being frightened away by passersby who heard Mrs. Meylan's screams.  Someone cut the rope and, with the thieves still in sight, the feisty Mrs. Meylan ran after them.  Undaunted by the breach of feminine decorum, she flew into a saloon on Seventh Avenue and 25th Street where they had disappeared.  By now she was accompanied by a policeman who arrested all four.

Mrs. Meylan was, as it turned out, lucky.  The police identified Willliam (alias "Mule") McGuire, John Redmond, Jame Donohue, and John Thompson as members of the "Rocky Road Gang."

The jewelry store was gone by 1891 when Madame R. Antoinette ran her dressmaking shop here.  Promising good wages, she was looking for a "skirt hand, one able to drape" that year.

In 1893 Madame Antoinette moved her business far north to West 124th Street.  The space was taken by another dressmaker, Madame Marie.  (Dressmakers, no matter how American, quite often gave themselves the fashionable French form of address.)   In May 1897 as the summer season was about to begin, she promised "Every description summer gowns; Paris designs exclusively; moderate prices; short notice."

In the meantime, the Pitzipios leased rooms in the upper floors to a less respectable grade of tenant than Hannah Burrows would have tolerated.  Perhaps the most colorful was Kate Kiernan who lived here by 1902.  Now 56 years old, she was well known to law enforcement on the Bowery.  The New-York Tribune later said of her "She first appeared there when a pretty girl of fifteen, and at once took her place at Suicide Hall, the Fleabag and the other dives."

In the week following Christmas 1902 Father Van Rensselaer of the nearby Church of St. Francis Xavier was at his wits' end.  He complained to the West 30th Street police station of "the practice of dilapidated women entering the church early in the morning and remaining there most of the day."  He told police that some of them begged among the crowds of shoppers on Sixth Avenue, "and made the church their headquarters."

In addition, according to The New-York Tribune, the "pastor asserted they littered the floor with the crumbs of their luncheons, and were uncleanly."  On December 30 Officer Neal Brown went to the church and arrested three women, including Kate Kiernan.

At the station house 70-year old Ann Cox told Sergeant Sweeney that she was homeless.  But when she mentioned that she had been born in County Donegal, Ireland, his eyes widened.  Not only was that the county where he had been born, but it was also the birthplace of Officer Brown.

As Kate listened, the sergeant chastised the arresting officer.  "What do you mean by arresting a girl from your own county, Brown?"  The policeman replied "Really, I didn't know her birthplace, sergeant."

The Tribune reported "Kate Kiernan proudly informed Sergeant Sweeney that she, too, was born in Donegal."

In a somewhat tragic sidenote, Kate Kiernan came to a gruesome end on December 26, 1915.  She was back on the Bowery, at the Tub of Blood Saloon, where, according to the Tribune, she often went.  The newspaper ran the headline "Belle of Old Bowery Killed by Trolley Car" and began the article saying "Faint echoes of the days when the Bowery was gayer than it has been for many years were aroused in the rum-ridden breasts of those who used to frequent McGurk's Suicide Hall, the Fleabag Saloon, and other notorious dives when the mangled body of Kate Kiernan, once gayest of the gay in the life of the district, was extricated from the tracks of a Madison Avenue car at Second Street and the Bowery last night.  The woman did not hear the warning bell."

Before then tailor Harry Feinberg had taken over the store space.  He advertised himself as "ladies' tailor and furrier; moderate prices."  But when he was arrested on August 29, 1906, he was less eager to disclose his profession.

It seems that Feinberg also had a nefarious side when it came to making money.  On that night William Cohen of Brooklyn was walking up Broadway near 29th Street when a gang of men attacked him.  He was knocked to the ground and the thugs began going through his pockets.  As he struggled, his watch was snatched from his pocket and a stickpin pulled from his tie.

His calls for help alerted Patrolman Landis who arrived just in time to see one of the thieves rushing away.  The New-York Tribune reported "He followed with a hundred men at his heels.  The cry 'Stop thief!' was raised and the crowd grew."  Calling the civilians "a large crowd, fresh from the theatres," the newspaper said they finally cornered him in a cafe on 29th Street near Broadway.

It was Harry Feinberg.   Although he admitted his address, he was creative in hiding his business.  "When captured the prisoner said...that he is a pugilist, and is known in pugilistic circles as 'Harvey Fern.'"

George Pitzipio died around 1886.  Following Adrienne's death in 1913, No. 112 was passed to Demetrius G. O. Pitzipio and his wife, Evelyn.   The couple converted the old house to a "tenant factory."  In doing so they installed an iron fire escape on the front of the building.

The Pitzipios' handsome iron fire escapes have a rather French feel.

Demetrius was gone, fighting for the U.S. Navy in 1917.  In his absence Evelyn received a notice from the Department of Buildings ordering that an interior stairway be extended to the roof as a means of escaping fire.   When Demetrius was called to testify in September 1918 as to why the violations were not corrected, the Board of Appeals seems to have been patriotically moved to excuse him.  Citing the facts that he had been serving his country, and that the building was "fireproof" and had fire escapes, the Board dismissed the violations.

When Selmar Pfieffer purchased No. 112 in July 1920, the front building was described as a three-story brick loft and store, and the rear structure as a two-story frame shop.  But it would not remain that way for long.

Pfieffer appears to have returned the building to rented rooms.  That year's census showed 30-year old actor Richard E. Cramer living here with his 32-year old wife, Hilda.  Hilda's occupation was listed as "Keeper--Lodging House."  A lodging house was the lowest form of rented accommodations where beds or cots were available by the night for a few cents.  Cramer's theatrical career finally took off and around 1928 he and Hilda moved to Hollywood where he became a familiar face as a supporting actor in Westerns.

In 1931 No. 112 was returned to factory space with a store on the ground level.  As the Chelsea neighborhood experienced a rebirth, so did that shop.  In 1988 it was home to the Chelsea Ceramics Gallery where children attended weekly classes and "let their imaginations roam free," according to co-owner Joy JanSan.

By 1994 the space was home to the Alley Cat Gallery, which also staged intimate theatrical productions.  Currently the shops on either side of the entrance contain Pippin Vintage Jewelry and Pippin Home.  Although the brick has been painted, the stoop long ago removed, and modern storefronts installed; it is not difficult to imagine the house as it appeared in 1850 when the block was lined with similar comfortable dwellings.

photographs by the author

The Audubon Terrace Complex - Broadway and 155th Street

 

The complex as it appeared around 1926  In the foreground facing Broadway are the Museum of the American Indian to the left, and the American Geographical Society  .  photo by Brown Brothers from the collection of the New York Public Library

Arabella Huntington was one of the most colorful and certainly among the wealthiest women in America in the 19th and early 20th centuries.  The long-time mistress of the married and much older  millionaire Collis P. Huntington (she was 19 when they met, he was 44), she bore a son on March 10, 1870.  He was said to be the son of her "husband," John Worsham (in fact he had a wife, Annette, back home in Richmond, Virginia).  Worsham returned to Richmond in 1871 and New York society whispered that Archer Milton Worsham was Huntington's child.

Following Elizabeth Huntington's death from cancer in 1883 Arabella and Collis were married.   Archer, 12 years old at the time of the marriage, took on the railroad tycoon's surname.   While Huntington was known as being uncouth, uneducated and, according to newspapers, "ruthless" and "scrupulously dishonest," Arabella had been educated in private schools, spoke French, and was refined in her speech and manners.

While many American millionaires collected paintings and statuary because it was expected, not because they understood good art from bad; Arabella studied art history and filled their mansion at No. 2 East 57th Street with masterworks by artists including Anthony Van Dyck, Frans Hals, Theodore Rousseau. and Joshua Reynolds.   And when she toured the museums and galleries of Europe, she took young Archer along.  He developed a love for art and architecture that became his passion.

Although Huntington attempted to interest Archer in the railroad business, the young man was focused on art and culture.  When his step-father died on August 13, 1900, the 28-year old found himself suddenly a multimillionaire, with him all the money and time he needed to devote to the arts.

Archer M. Huntington's portrait, by Jose Maria Lopez Mezquita, in in the collection of The Hispanic Museum & Library

In 1904 he embarked on a momentous project.  Enlisting the talents of his architect cousin, Charles Pratt Huntington, he announced on November 25 that he would be erecting a museum building for the Hispanic Society.  Huntington had organized the group, along with four other trustees, just three months earlier.

In announcing the project, the Record & Guide called it "Archer M. Huntington's Princely Gift," and said "Its object is to collect and preserve books, original manuscript, maps, coins and object of art of ancient Spain, especially those connected with its relation to the discover and early history of both North and South America."

The site was Audubon Park, north of the city on 155th Street, just west of Broadway, and across from Trinity Cemetery.  The limestone clad Italian Renaissance-style structure, said the Record & Guide, "will be five stories in height, three being below ground."  The construction cost, estimated at $200,000, rose to $350,000 before completion--making Huntington's total expenditure including the land and endowment around $32 million in today's dollars.

Charles P. Huntington released this rendering in November 1904.  Real Estate Record & Guide, November 26, 1904 (copyright expired)

The Record & Guide reported "The main floor of the building will contain a large reading-room, balconies and a decorative frieze in Moravian tile representing that portion of Spain's history relating to the Americas...The main hall, which will be in marble, will be lighted by a glass dome."  The article added "The terrace will be of brick and marble with a central motive in Moravian tile.  In the large reading room there are to be three tablets representing different periods of the Spanish conquest."  Huntington's personal collection formed the initial core of the collection.

Archer Huntington had only started.  On August 4, 1906 the Record & Guide announced that Charles P. Huntington had drawn plans for the American Numismatic and Archeological Society Building adjoining the Hispanic Society of America museum.  The announcement said the projected structure would be "of handsome design, 3 stories high, with a tile roof and will cost about $55,000."  Huntington was president of the American Numismatic and Archeological Society, and the museum would house its "large collection of coins, medals and tokens" which the Record & Guide touted was "in many respects the most complete and valuable display in the world."

The New York Times reported "The architecture will be of the classic Greek style, the facade being adorned with a spacious porch, Ionic columns supporting a cornice and balustrade.  The main floor and the second floor will be devoted to the library, the meeting halls and exhibition galleries."

An early postcard shows the free-standing Hispanic Museum and the newly-completed American Geographical Society.

When that museum was completed, the two Huntingtons started work on a third building to be home to The American Geographical Society.  The oldest institution of its kind in America, it had been founded in 1851 and incorporated in 1854.  Charles P. Huntington designed the three-story limestone building in the Italian Renaissance style, blending it harmoniously into the rapidly developing complex.

While the American Geographical Society building rose, Dona Manuela de Laverrerie de Barril, the wife of the Spanish Consul General, proposed to Archer Huntington that a Spanish Roman Catholic Church be included in the complex.  The Church of Our Lady of Esperanza would be the second Spanish language Catholic church in New York City.  Once again Charles P. Huntington put pen to paper, designing an Italian Renaissance church facing 156th Street.

On April 16, 1911 The Sun reported not only on the new church, but on the complex in general.  "The dedication to-day of the Spanish Roman Catholic Church of Our Lady of Hope brings to notice one of the most handsome groups of buildings in Greater New York, if not in the State.  It was formerly a high class private residential neighborhood known as Audubon Park, on the very ground where the battle of Fort Washington was fought.  The buildings, of which there are four, in the opinion of experts, are the best examples of architecture of the Renaissance type in America."

A stone staircase cascaded to the road level.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The newspaper hinted that the complex was not yet complete.  Charles Huntington, it said "will have charge of all future buildings that may be erected on the ground of what was formerly Audubon Park."

And indeed, on June 4, 1916 The New York Times announced "Ground will be broken this week for the artistic building to be known as the Museum of the American Indian on the northwest corner of Broadway and 155th Street.  It will be an important and interesting addition to the block, which, under the careful guidance of Archer M. Huntington, has been developed into a distinctive art and educational centre."

Once again Archer Huntington had donated the costs and Charles Huntington had designed the edifice.  The Times remarked "It will be practically a duplicate of the American Geographical Society building on the adjoining 156th Street corner."

Archer was a trustee of the American Indian Museum, founded by George G. Heye whom The Times called "an ardent student and collector of Indian remains."  So passionate was he that his personal collection of "everything interesting bearing on the history and life of the American aborigines represented in their numerous tribes," had amounted to over 500,000 items.  "It is the largest private collection of its kind in the world," said the newspaper.

Charles P. Huntington's 1916 rendering shows empty land to the rear and includes the earlier American Geographical Society building at right.  The New York Times, June 4, 1916 (copyright expired)

Heye announced "We hope to make the American Indian Museum a great center for the exhibition and study of the early history and archaeology of our country.  It will endeavor to cover its special and individual field in a very thorough manner, being limited solely to America, but embracing both hemispheres, surely a field of study and investigation sufficiently large for the efforts of any single organization."

Archer M. Huntington's vision was almost complete, but it would be finished without Charles Pratt Huntington, who died in 1919.  Archer donated the land and endowments to the Academy of Arts and Letters.  The building was designed by William Mitchell Kendall of McKim, Mead & White.

McKim, Mead & White released its rendering of the courtyard facade in 1921.  The New York Time, July 31, 1921 (copyright expired)

On October 30, 1921 The New York Herald explained "With the laying of the cornerstone of the new home of the Academy of Arts and Letters by Marshal Foch on November 19 will come to fruition the drams of Charles Dudley Warner, Mark Twain, Stedman, McKim, La Farge, Saint Gaudens and MacDowell, who, through the National Institute of Arts and Letters, laid the foundation of the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 1904.


"The structure in the dedication of which Marsha Foch figures as a delegate of the French Academy, will provide a permanent domicile for what Prof. William Milligan Sloane, present o the academy, styles 'the nation's council of literature and art.'"

Architect William Rutherford Mead explained that Kendall had designed the building in the Italian Renaissance style to conform with the existing complex.  There were two entrances, one in the courtyard and the other opening onto 155th Street.  "The facades of Indian limestone and Italian in style are arranged to conform in certain principal lines to the adjoining Numismatic Museum."

The 155th Street facade of the Academy of Arts and Letters

Included in the building was a large library, a meeting room that could seat 50 members, and a large exhibition room conveniently connected to a kitchen for receptions and dinners.  Novelist and playwright Hamlin Garland idealistically told reporters that the "American Academy of Arts and Letters will be proud to be of service either in war or in peace.  It can be counted on to support every movement for elevating our ideals of living, for preserving the beauties of nature and for upholding the permanent standards of art."

On August 11, 1922 the National Sculpture Society announced that Archer Huntington had offered it the use of the undeveloped courtyard lawn opposite the Academy building for "a free out-of-door exhibition of sculpture" to be held the following May.  The exhibition committee had originally intended to use Central Park, but Emil Fuchs explained "The buildings upon the Huntington block will offer a beautiful architectural background to the exhibition and the amount of ground available is so great that it will enable the committee to enlarge its original plan."

He added "The only conditions which Mr. Huntington made for the holding of the exhibition was that it should be the best that American art can produce in sculpture."

The exhibition was monumental, described by The New York Times as "the largest exhibition of sculpture ever held in America" and including more than 800 works.  Landscape artists were commissioned to transform the grounds to best display them.  Among the esteemed artists whose work was displayed was Anna Vaughn Hyatt whose masterful statue of Joan of Arc had been unveiled in Riverside Park in 1915.  The Times described her as among "the twelve greatest living American women" and "one of the foremost women artists in the world."

Huntington and Hyatt worked closely together "for several months," according to a reporter, on the arrangements for the exhibition.  The relationship between Hyatt and Huntington went from artistic to romantic.   Huntington divorced his wife, Helen, and married Anna on March 10, 1923 in her West 12th Street studio, less than two months before the exhibition opened.


The final piece in Huntington's complex, the American Academy building, would fill the lawn where the exhibition was staged.  On November 9, 1938 The Times reported "The American Academy of Art and Letters has received funds to erect a new building facing 156th Street, directly behind the present Academy building.  Completed in 1930, it was designed by Cass Gilbert (a member of the Academy).  It not only followed the Italian Renaissance theme of its predecessors, Gilbert produced a near copy of the McKim, Mead & White building it faced.  Bronze entrance doors executed by sculptor Herbert Adams depicted allegories of Painting, Sculpture, Inspiration and Drama.  Inside were a 730-seat auditorium and an art gallery.

The 1924, while designing an addition to the Church of Our Lady of Esperanza, McKim, Mead & White made over Charles P. Huntington's facade.  The flight of steps was removed and the entrance lowered to 156th Street.  The remodeled front took on a more somber, early Italian Romanesque personality.

The remodeled facade had little to do with the neighboring structures.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In 1927 Anna Hyatt Huntington's heroic bronze statue "El Cid" was unveiled in the complex courtyard, directly in front of the entrance to the Hispanic Museum.  Nine years later, in November, the hall of the American Academy of Arts and Letters was the scene of an exhibition of her works.  More than 170 pieces of sculpture were assembled as a tribute to the artist.  The New York Times remarked "This is announced as the first comprehensive exhibition of work by the only woman sculptor on the membership roll of the Academy."

The neighborhood around the Audubon Terrace complex declined in the second half of the 20th century.   Diminished patronage of the museums was perhaps first evidenced in April 1963 when the American Academy of Arts and Letters auctioned off a collection of 435 items, described by the Library of Congress as "a discriminating assemblage of letters penned by most of the major 19th-century American and British authors."   The letters had been collected and donated by Archer M. Huntington.

A surprising discovery in the storeroom of the Hispanic Society of America in 1986 revealed a 13th-century ivory carving of the Virgin and Child.  Purchased by Archer Huntington decades earlier, it had been dismissed by the trustees because it was French, not Spanish.  When the associate curator of medieval art at the Metropolitan Museum of Art heard of it, he arranged to see it.

"When I first saw it, it was quite dirty," Charles T. Little told a reporters.  "But beneath this veil of dirt was a magnificent piece of the 13th century.  I recognized it as a masterpiece."  Saying that in two decades he had only once seen an ivory or its quality, he estimated that it "would be worth hundred of thousands of dollars."

The Society, however (unlike the Academy of Arts and Letters), refused to part with the relic because it had been part of Huntington's original bequest.  So a long-term trade was worked out between the museums.  The Virgin and Child is now displayed in the Met's Tapestry Hall; and the Hispanic Museum received a silver gilt repoussé plate from Portugal, dating to about 1500.

By the turn of the century few New Yorkers knew about the magnificent collections available in Audubon Terrace.  Samuel Sachs II, director of the Frick Collection called the Hispanic Society of America "one of the great well-kept secrets of New York," in 2003.  While the Frick received about 257,000 visitors a year, the Hispanic Society saw only 20,000.  Margaret Connors McQuade, the Society's assistant curator, explained it frankly:  "People are afraid to come up here."

A decade earlier the Society's director, Theodore Beardsley, more offensive.  When asked by ArtNews magazine why he did not promote the museum's world class collection more enthusiastically to the local community, he cited the residents' "low level of culture."

The openings of the former Museum of the American Indian facing the courtyard have been bricked up.

The Society held on, although the American Geographical Society left Audubon Terrace in 1971 (its building now used by Boricua College), and the Museum of the American Indian relocated to the old Customs House on the Battery in 1993.  When the American Numismatic Society moved to Lower Manhattan in 2004 its building was absorbed by the American Academy of Arts and Letters.   The Hispanic Society of American remained, despite its toying with the idea of relocating in 2006.

And although Felicia R. Lee, writing in The New York Times on November 11, 2011 painted a dismal picture, calling its the Audubon Terrace court "a scruffy plaza," the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Hispanic Society hold on, hoping that the current resurgence of the neighborhood will restore Archer M. Huntington's magnificent vision--once deemed one of the best architectural complexes in America.

non-credited photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Phyllis Winchester for suggesting this post