The Lost Hotel Beresford - CPW and 81st Street

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, September 21, 1889 (copyright expired)

In 1889 Alva S. Walker pioneered a new concept in multi-family living on the Upper West Side.  On September 21 the Real Estate Record and Guide said his Hotel Beresford, which was nearing completion at the northwest corner of Central Park West and 81st Street, marked "the new mode of living due to the desire to avoid the cares of housekeeping."

This would be Alva Walker's second "apartment hotel."  His recently-built Hotel Winthrop on Seventh Avenue and 125th Street, was reportedly "remarkably successful."

In December 1888 he purchased the four Central Park West plots from former Park Commissioner John D. Crimmins for $110,000--more than $2.8 million today.  At the time the Record & Guide reported "Mr. Walker will at once commence the erection of first-class dwellings or an elegant apartment house."

The term "at once" was accurate.  Walker commissioned architect Theodore E. Thomson (who was most often known professionally as Theo E. Thomson) to design his six-story structure which rose with blinding speed.  Less than six months after Walker purchased the plot, the roof of the $200,000 building had been completed.  By September 1889, carpenters and plasterers were working on the finishing touches.

The Record & Guide explained the concept of the Beresford as it prepared to open.  "It is what is in the future to be known as an 'apartment hotel.'  That is, it is comprised of a number of suites for families and bachelors, which they occupy just as though they lived in an apartment house like the Dakota, the Osborne, the Rutland, or any other first-class flat.  But it differs from them in this respect, that no cooking is done in any of the suites, as everyone eats in a large dining-room, the meals in which are cooked, served and supplied by the owner and manager of the building."

That dining room was on the top floor.  "It is delightfully located, as it places the guests, while they are taking their meals, in full view of Central and Manhattan Parks, the Museums of Art and Natural History and other objects.  To dine under such conditions must surely aid both appetite and digestion," opined the Guide.  Residents paid $7 each per week for their meals--a little over $185 today.

But it was not merely the cook's job that was eliminated at the Hotel Beresford.  The building supplied "chamber and waiting service" that would otherwise have been the duties of private maids. 

"All one requires to do is to eat, drink, sleep and pay one's check when it becomes due, the cares of house-keeping being shouldered upon the proprietor of the hotel," said the Guide's writer.  "Ladies who have for years been breaking their hearts over their troubles with servants will no doubt welcome with open arms the new era of apartment hotels which has just dawned upon us."

There were 34 apartments in the Hotel Beresford with rents ranging from $1,200 to $1,800 per year, or around $4,000 per month today for the largest apartments.  New Yorkers lined up to sign leases.  In September 1889 Alva Walker told a reporter "The Beresford is now half rented, though the building will not be finished till October 1."  And seven weeks after the opening he announced that all apartments had been rented "and there is a reserve list of applicants."

The Hotel Beresford's residents were white collar professionals--doctors, brokers, bankers, and lawyers, for instance.   Their new apartment was an outward sign of the prosperity of Johnson Blakeley Creighton and his wife, the former Sarah Tracy, who had been married around 1882.  Creighton came from a respected naval family.  His grandfather was Rear Admiral Silas H. Stringham, and his father was Commodore J. Blakeley Creighton.

At the age of just 16 Creighton, known popularly as Jack, took a job as a clerk on Wall Street with the brokerage firm of J. T. Bates & Co.  Before long he had risen to cashier and seven years later was a partner in W. P. Wright & Co.  The same month that the Creightons moved into the Hotel Beresford, he formed his own brokerage firm, J. B. Creighton & Co.

The Creightons' lifestyle was typical of the Beresford's residents.  They summered in Larchmont, New York, and Creighton was a member of the exclusive New-York Athletic Club and the Manhattan Club.  But the 30-year old was hiding deep secrets; most likely even from his wife.

Almost a year after moving in, on October 23, 1890, Creighton did not come home.  Earlier that day he had spent time talking with the clerk in the drugstore at 82 Broadway about the relative strengths of different kinds of poison.  About an hour and a half later he returned and sauntered casually around the store before being noticed behind the drug case in the back.  When he left there was a bottle of morphine hidden in his pocket.

He had dinner at Rodman's restaurant that evening, then started to leave without paying.  The cashier reminded him and Creighton reportedly replied "Money! Take all you want.  I have no further use for it."

When the janitor opened Creighton's office door to clean up at 5:30 in the morning, he found the broker dead on a lounge.  He had left four letters, one of which, addressed "To whom it may concern," read

I have been through a good square business fight, have lost the battle, and now, when my poor brain is aching with pain, and so badly that it has taken poor Jack's best efforts to hold his head above water, I give way to the word of God and end a life that in the future would no doubt be useless."

After his signature he added the line "Be careful and notify my wife kindly."

It was discovered that Creighton had been playing the stock market for several years, almost always being on the losing end.  Creditors were closing in now, and he was unable to pay.  His funeral was held in the Beresford apartment.

The success of the Hotel Beresford was such that in April 1892 Walker purchased the plot behind the building, running to the 82nd Street corner, for $150,000.  He announced his intentions to build a ten-story extension and told reporters that "Every improvement will be placed in the building, and when it is finished it will be connected with the Hotel Beresford."

The annex would have 64 apartments--nearly double that of the original building.  In August, as the structure took form, the Real Estate Record & Guide took note of the design.  "The front is plain and unpretentious, being of brick, with brownstone trimmings, and corresponds in design to the main building, which was the pioneer apartment hotel built west of Central Park."

The dining room in the original building was remodeled into apartments, and the new dining room was located in the ninth floor of the addition.  The tenth floor contained small apartments for residents' servants.  The plans estimated the construction cost at $350,000--nearly $9.5 million today.

Thompson's rending of the addition was in harmony with the original building.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The architect, C. A. Thompson, had indeed closely mimicked Theo E. Thomson's original design.  The severe angles of the bays--intended not only for dimension but for added ventilation--were carried out on both the Central Park West and 82nd Street elevations.  Rather interestingly, neither of the entrances faced the park, but the side streets.  The architects' purpose in the placement may have been simply to provide more park views to the residences.

Another of the Hotel Beresford's original tenants in 1889 were millionaire John J. Morris, his wife, and their adult son.  He came from the colonial Morris family "of Revolutionary fame," according to on newspaper.  His father, Jacob, was a Federal Lieutenant in the War of 1812.

After a varied career--he had served as Alderman and Excise Commissioner, and headed a highly successful grocery business--Morris contented himself with retired life.  He remained a member of the West Presbyterian Church, known as "Dr. Paxton's Church," on West 42nd Street.  Each Sunday he would stroll across Central Park to catch the streetcar south.  But he never made it to services on May 14, 1893.

He walked down Central Park West to the 72nd Street entrance to the park.  But rain had fallen the night before and, according to The New York Times, "the road was ankle deep in mud."  Rather than sully his fine shoes he walked along the stone-paved gutter alongside the roadway.  A Central Park policeman took exception to his walking outside the designated path.

Morris explained why he was not walking on the pathway, but the policeman said it was against the park rules.  The former alderman refused to step into the mud and was arrested.  If Morris expected to deal with a more logical mind at the police station, he was disappointed.  The New York Times wrote "The Sergeant in charge at the police station administered a sharp rebuke to the prisoner and ordered the officer to take him to court."

The astonished judge dismissed the case and Morris hurried to church.  But he entered just in time to hear the closing hymn.  Later The New York Times reported "Much indignation was expressed by friends of Mr. Morris over the occurrence, but Mr. Morris declined to prosecute the policeman who arrested him."

Less than a year later, in April 1894, Morris became ill.  He was taken to the Chambers Street Hospital where he died two months later.  His widow and son, W. H. Morris, remained on in the Hotel Beresford.

The original structure's entrance opened onto 81st Street.  The taller annex opened onto 82nd.  A nanny pushes a baby tram along a very quiet Central Park West.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Directly below the Morris apartment was that of the Olin D. Gray family.  Gray was president of the Gray Lithographing Company  His wife, Lydia Blossom Gray, was active socially.  In February 1895, for instance, society columns noted that "Mrs. Olin D. Gray of the Hotel Beresford has sent out cards for Tuesdays in February."

Following Lydia's February "at homes," she and their daughter, Laura, went to St. Louis.  On the night of April 27 Olin left their apartment, headed to the theater.  But on the way there he was passed by galloping fire trucks headed north.  Concerned, he decided to go back home, where he found the flames erupting from his fifth floor apartment.

The building's alarm system had worked perfectly.  It was W. H. Morris who discovered the fire.  "He ran down to the hotel office, and an alarm was rung in.  The electric bells in all the rooms in the building were set ringing," reported The New York Times.  Olin Gray was not so fortunate.

"Every article of furniture in his rooms was destroyed, as well as some valuable oil paintings.  His loss is estimated at $10,000," said the newspaper.  The damage would be nearly $300,000 in today's dollars.  The Grays left the Hotel Beresford, moving into a rowhouse across the park at No. 40 East 80th Street.

Another couple highly visible in social circles were James M. Drake, a partner in the banking firm of Drake, Masten & Co., and his wife.  Like the Morrises, their apartment was on the fifth floor.  The Drakes were patrons of music and literature and their apartment was regularly the scene of musical entertainments and readings.   Their golden wedding anniversary in 1901 was deemed by The New York Times as "one of the great events in the history of the hotel."

Despite their advanced ages and having reared four children, the Drakes remained sweethearts.  The New York Times later recalled "It had been a habit of Mr. Drake every morning on his way to business, rain or shine, to walk over to the park wall, where he would lift his silk hat and bow good-bye to Mrs. Drake, who would watch him from the window."

Residents said that when Drake returned home, he would not pause to chat in the corridors until he had gone to the apartment to greet his wife.  The romance did not end with Mrs. Drake's death in the spring of 1906.  Every morning he would pause at the Central Park wall, turn and tip his hat to the empty fifth floor window.

Soon, though, the broken-hearted old man said that he could not stand the loneliness of the Beresford apartment and he moved out in October that year.  A month later he died at the age of 82.

Alva S. Walker and his family, naturally, lived in the Hotel Beresford.  He had been faced with a difficult decision in 1903 when an employee embezzled a large amount from him.  Walker had hired him around 1893 and said he had implicitly trusted him and put him in charge of large sums of cash.

Walker discovered the skillfully-conducted thefts "largely by accident."  While one report set the amount at $50,000, Walker called that an exaggeration; although he would not say how much was stolen.  His troubling conflict was whether or not to prosecute.  "He hesitated about performing what he thought was a public duty, because of his pity for the man's innocent wife and six children," explained The New York Times.  Walker told reporters "The employee had squandered the money on the races, and there was no possible way of recovery."

photo from the collection of the Library of Congress

Five years later Walker's name would again be in the papers, but this time for a scandalous reason.  On August 20, 1908 The Sun received a wire from Worchester, Massachusetts informing "Alva Walker, a wealthy New York City septuagenarian, owner of the Hotel Beresford at Eighty-first street and Central Park West, was arrested yesterday with a party of ladies for endangering his life and the lives of others by climbing Mount Wachusett in an automobile over a closed route."

Despite admitting owning the car and knowing that he was violating State laws by trespassing on the closed road, The Sun said "Walker threatens suit for false arrest."

Alva Walker died in his Hotel Beresford apartment on February 15, 1911 at the age of 74.  in 1919 his estate sold the building to real estate operators Bing & Bing.

Years earlier, in 1900, retired merchant and Civil War veteran Seth W. Johnson and his wife Ella, moved into a seventh floor apartment.   They maintained a country home in Greenwich, Connecticut.  Their son, John A. Topping, was chairman of the board of Republic Iron and Steel Corporation.

Ella was 69 years old in 1918 when she developed heart trouble.  It became serious enough that for a time she had nurses day and night in the apartment.   But by the summer of 1920 she seemed to have greatly improved.

On the morning of June 13 she, her nurse Effie Swanson, and her husband began packing trunks in preparation to leave for Greenwich.  At one point Ella felt tired and said she would go into an adjoining room for fresh air.  Johnson and the nurse heard the window being raised, and went on with the packing.

A few minutes later the sounds of shouting from the street reached the apartment.  The Times reported "Mr. Johnson, who is nearly 80 years old, called to his wife, asking what the shouting was about.  When he got no answer, he hurried into the room.  It was empty."

The New-York Tribune added "He rushed to the window and saw her body lying in the court below.  She had been killed instantly."  Effe Swanson, who had been Ella's nurse for about five years, thought perhaps she had suffered an attack of vertigo and lost her balance on opening the window.

By 1928 the Hotel Beresford was decidedly out of date.  The Active Properties Company purchased the property in March that year and in August demolition began.  A worker on the project, James Blancett, was checking the cellar when he heard cries.  Checking further, he found a mother cat with four kittens, about a week old.

Blancett notified the S.P.C.A.  An agent arrived and took the mother away, inexplicably leaving the kittens behind, "worse off than they were before," according to the demolition worker.  Working against time, Blancett tried to coax the feral kittens out; but they scurried away whenever he approached.

"He tried leaving milk and appetizing bits of liver where they could find it," reported The New York Times.  "This proved satisfactory to all concerned...Blancett improvised a comfortable nest for them out of an old pillow stuffed into a bushel basket."  Meanwhile, the razing of the building continued overhead.

Finally two kittens became trusting enough that Blancett was able to remove them and they were quickly adopted by families in the neighborhood.  The others, however, remained suspicious.  Blancett said on August 22 that he had only about two weeks to tame the kittens before the building came down around them.

The Upper West Side neighborhood rallied.  On weekends when Blancett was off, women brought the milk and food.  And everyone nervously watched the progress of the demolition.

Finally, almost at the two-week deadline, Blancett was able to remove the kittens.  More than 60 persons had sought to provide homes for them.  The story newspaper readers had been following for weeks had a happy ending.

In place of the Hotel Beresford, Emery Roth's massive The Beresford apartment house rose.

In 1931, before air conditioning, Emory Roth's The Beresford is studded with canvas awnings. photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The 1929 Beresford - 211 Central Park West

 

photo by David Shankbone

In 1928, four decades after it opened, the once-lavish Hotel Beresford was out of date.  In August the H. R. H. Construction Co. demolished the Victorian landmark, and began construction on a modern, upscale replacement.  Engulfing the blockfront from West 81st to 82nd Streets, the structure was designed by  the eminent apartment building architect Emery Roth.  

The 23-floor structure was completed on September 13, 1929.  Roth had produced an imposing structure based on the Late Italian Renaissance, with added Baroque elements.  Its great, yellow brick mass rose above a limestone base to three towers that perfectly disguised the water tanks--normally an eyesore.

The extravagant lifestyles of the wealthy during the 1920's were reflected in the floorplans.  The 182 apartments--some of which, with 12 rooms, were the size of a townhouse--contained servants' rooms, cedar-lined storage closets, sun porches, dressing rooms, and service hallways separated from the main living quarters.   The New York Times said, "Living rooms average 20 by 30 feet.  Each apartment has a separate service elevator and service foyer."

Writing in The New Yorker on November 23, 1929, Marcia Clarke Davenport was relieved that one could still find "really large rooms, really high ceilings; and you can pay--very, very well for them."

In 1931, before air conditioning, The Beresford sprouts canvas awnings. photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Six weeks after The Beresford opened, the Stock Market crashed.  The Great Depression would eventually have devastating consequences for the building's owners, but its monied residents, on the other hand, seem to have been little affected.  

The initial tenants were widely varied.  Their wide range of professions was reflected in three of the initial famlies: Maurice S. Benjamin; David Israel and his wife, the former Lilian Ratner; and Jack Donahue, his wife, Alice Stewart, and their three daughters.  Benjamin was a partner in the stock brokerage firm of Benjamin, Hill & Co.; Isarel was the founder and president of David's Specialty Shops with ten stores around the country; and Donahue was a highly popular dancer and entertainer.

Two views of the Maurice S. Benjamin apartment.  Photos by Samuel H. Gottscho, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Jack Donahue once said that in the neighborhood of Boston where he grew up, "the boys didn't worry about what they were going to do when they grew up--you were going to be either a dancer or a fighter."  He chose dancing.  The New York Sun later said his "dancing feet brought him fame and fortune as a favorite of the musical comedy stage."

He debuted in New York in 1912 in The Woman Haters, performing a tap dance with a whisk broom.  By the 1920's he was a Broadway star.  When he and his family moved into The Beresford in 1929, he was starring in Sons o' Guns.  The show went on the road in the fall of 1930.

Jack Donahue was considered by some, "the greatest dancer in the world."  The New York Sun, October 1, 1930.

During that tour Donahue was afflicted with a sinus infection.  On October 1, 1930, The New York Sun reported, "Overwork, however, coupled with a weakened condition, caused by other ailments, made him collapse last Thursday in Cincinnati.  He was forced to leave the show and come to New York for treatment."  But back at The Beresford, he refused medical attention.

"I'll be all right, after a rest," he told his family and friends.

He had tragically underestimated his condition.  At 5:45 on the morning of October 1, he died at the age of 38.  The New York Sun said, "The end came suddenly.  The immediate cause of death was heart disease and a chronic kidney ailment, it was announced."

Living in The Beresford at the same time were organists Jesse Crawford and his wife, the former Helen Anderson.  The couple played the twin organ console at the Paramount Theater.  On February 3, 1933 the Times-Union wrote, "The private life of Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Crawford chime together as smoothly as the melodious notes of music they evoke, in concert, from the depths of their gigantic twin organ."  Living with them in their The Beresford apartment were their daughter, Jessie, and their wire-haired terrier, Honey.  Helen was, as well, a song writer, whose works include So Blue and The Moonlight Reminds Me of You.

A somewhat colorful tenant was Frank J. Moore, called the "dean of clubhouse commissioners."  He and his wife, the former Anna Moore, had a grown daughter, Alice.  The millionaire had started out as a jockey and stable agent in the 1880's.  He eventually "handled betting transactions for many of the country's most prominent turf followers," according to The New York Times.

Two views of the David and Lilian Israel apartment.  Photos by Samuel H. Gottscho, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

A disturbing incident occurred in 1932.   With the investigation into the kidnapping of the Charles Lindbergh baby still making headlines, Louis Marx and his wife began receiving letters threatening to kidnap their two little children.  The writer initially demanded $20,000, then raised the price to $50,000--just under $100,000 in today's money.

The investigation ended with a shocking discovery.  The letters had been written by Marion Harris, the family's live-in English nursemaid.  She confessed to the scheme, insisting that she worked alone.  Surprisingly, Louis Marx appeared at her hearing, not as her accuser, but "as a friend of the defendant," according to The Sun on March 27, 1933.  "This is not a vicious woman," he told the judge.  "she loved my children and gave them excellent care."

The arresting officer was not so sympathetic.  The Sun remarked that his "long experience has tended to make him a little hard boiled."  He countered that while she was demanding what amounted to ransom, "she gave each of them a black pill which had the effect of running up their temperature."

Marion Harris became hysterical, sobbing, "I was forced by these policemen to sign that confession.  I should never have done it."

Hyman H. Butler and his wife, the former Rachel Ellenbogen, moved into The Beresford when it first opened.  He was the founder of a nationwide chain of 23 clothing stores.  They maintained a country home, Pinehurst Farms, at Crystal Lake, at Averill Park, New York, where Butler bred Hackney thoroughbreds.

Rachel Butler died following a long illness on December 14, 1954.  In her memory, in July 1956 Butler donated 62 acres of land to the Averill Park Central School District as the site of a new school building.  Hyman Butler would remain in the apartment until his own death on May 13, 1970.

The Beresford was converted to co-ops in 1962, by which time it was filling with celebrated names.  Among them was internationally renowned concert violinist Isaac Stern and his wife, Vera.  The couple was greatly upset when Jacob Goldfarb purchased the apartment directly above them in 1962 and began renovations.

On June 14, 1963 the Buffalo Courier-Express reported, "A concert artist must be undisturbed in his early morning sleep and rest.  That's what violinist Isaac Stern contended Thursday in asking a State Supreme Court injunction against what he called 'unbearably loud noises'" from the Goldfarb apartment.  The Sterns were asking $50,000 damages suffered in the months-long renovations.

Television personality Allen Funt was in court the following year.  The creator and host of "Candid Camera" sued the co-op board when it refused his request to glass in his terrace.  His suit, filed in September 1964, sought $600,000 in damages, and said the refusal was "capricious, arbitrary, unreasonable."

Among the Funts' neighbors was the family of Seymour and Eda Mann.   Mann owned a gift and home accessories firm, notable for its mass production of porcelain dolls, designed by Eda, who also designed textiles.  Their daughter, Erica, graduated from Barnard College in 1963 with a master's degree in English Literature.

The Mann apartment was the scene of Erica's wedding to Army Captain Allan Jong on February 27, 1966.   Erica Jong would achieve fame as a novelist, poet, and satirist, especially known for her 1973 novel Fear of Flying.

Another celebrated tenant was motion picture actor Rock Hudson, who lived in the penthouse apartment on the building's southeast corner.  He died at the age of 59 in October 1985.  The apartment was purchased in 1998 by Nicholas J. Clay who told a reporter from The New York Times, "We basically ended up having to completely redo the whole of the inside of the apartment" to make it "more of a family apartment."  The Clays sold it to actress Glenn Close and her partner, biotechnology entrepreneur David E. Shaw, in 2005 for just under $6 million.

In the meantime, comedian Jerry Seinfeld had paid $4.35 for the Isaac Stern apartment in February 1998.  At the time, other well-known residents included operatic soprano Beverly Sills, actor Tony Randall, author Helen Gurley Brown, and film director Sidney Lumet.  In reporting that Seinfeld still had to pass the co-op board's approval, The New York Times journalist James Barron quoted a resident who said, "No one's particularly worried--the building already has a celebrity quotient."  But Barron wondered, "But Kramer will be able to wander in?"

Beverly Sills had moved into The Beresford in the 1930's and shared it for decades with her daughter, Meredith Holden Greenough.  Among her neighbors were author and composer Mary Rodgers, daughter of Richard Rodgers, and her husband Henry Guetell, a theater producer and film executive.  Robin Finn of The New York Times said their apartment "often resonated with song and sound from the Steinway grand piano tucked into the front corner of the living room."  Among the "impromptu performers" at their gatherings, according to Finn were "Stephen Sondheim, Harold Prince, Julie Andrews, Itzhak Perlman, Bernadette Peters, Diana Ross and Lang Lang.  Even Woody Allen attended a fete or two."  Finn added that Beverly Sills "had a standing invitation."

For decades apartment 19E, a terrace duplex, was home to actress Phyllis Newman and husband Adolph Green.  They reared their two children, Amanda (who went on to become a Broadway songwriter and performer) and Adam (later a theater critic) here.  Green died in 2002 at the age of 87, followed by Newman in September 2019 at 86.   

Two months later, the children put the apartment on the market for $24 million.  In reporting the move, The New York Times reporter Vivian Marino noted that the couple had hosted glittering parties in the duplex.  "Lauren Bacall and Glenn Close (a neighbor) were among their guests, as were Groucho Marx and Milton Berle, and the musical luminaries Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim, Jule Styne and Isaac Stern (their next-door neighbor)."

Two views of the Newman-Green apartment.  photos by Denis Vlasov, The New York Times, November 22, 2019

In 1982 Tony Award winning actor Roger Rees and his playwright husband Eric Elice purchased "a four-room aerie" in The Beresford.  Then, in 2005, they bought the two-bedroom apartment directly above and created a duplex.

Other celebrity residents over the years included former tennis great John McEnroe, singer-songwriter Patty Smyth, and actress-singer Diana Ross.

photo by Ad Meskens

Despite the passage of time, apartment buildings along Central Park West never lose their panache.  A five-bedroom "house-like residence," as worded by a realtor, in The Beresford recently appeared on the market for $40 million.

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The Lost Cooper-Hewitt House - 9 Lexington Avenue

 

image via ringwoodmanor.org

In the first decades of the 19th century Peter Cooper almost single-handedly constructed his wooden house at the corner of 8th Street and Fourth Avenue.  (He moved the house 20 blocks to the north in 1820.)   By 1846, the 55-year-old had come a long way.  He had invented the Tom Thumb, the first steam locomotive in America; served as a city alderman; ran a highly successful glue factory; owned the Canton Iron Works and the West Point Foundry; and held several patents.  That year he erected a stately mansion at 9 Lexington Avenue, one block north of fashionable Gramercy Park.

Peter Cooper, from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Three stories tall above an English basement, the residence was designed in the emerging Italianate style.  A broad stone stoop rose to the centered entranceway (the enframement of which clung to the waning Greek Revival style).  The elliptically arched openings wore what appear to be cast iron lintels, and atop the roof was a quaint belvedere.

Cooper and his wife, the former Sarah Raynor Bedell, had two children, Edward and Sarah Amelia (known familiarly by her middle name).  Two years before moving into the mansion, the family had nearly lost Edward.

A student at Columbia College, he traveled to Europe in 1843 with his mathematics professor, Abram Stevens Hewitt.  On the return voyage a year later, they were shipwrecked.  Hewitt returned the young man safely home and he became a close friend of the family.  He visited the house often, both officially (he continued to tutor Edward) and as a guest.  By 1850 a romance was blossoming between Hewitt and Sarah Amelia, and in 1855 they were married in the Lexington Avenue mansion.

The newlyweds initially moved to Trenton, New Jersey, where Hewitt and Edward Cooper co-managed Peter Cooper's Trenton Ironworks (later renamed Cooper & Hewitt).  But in 1858, the Hewitts were listed at 9 Lexington Avenue with the Cooper family.   The couple would have seven children.

The families summered at Ringwood, the 19,000-acre estate purchased by Peter Cooper in 1853.  The purchase had a pragmatic side to it, since the property guaranteed a supply of iron ore for the foundry.  

The sprawling main house on the Ringwood estate.  image via ringwoodmanor.org.

Perhaps because of his own limited education, Peter Cooper strongly endorsed adult education.  He professed that education should be "as free as water and air."  In 1853 he broke ground for the Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art.  Abram Hewitt was closely involved.  He supervised the construction, which was completed in 1859.   Cooper's endowment made the school free for working class students.  In a revolutionary step, he welcomed women and Blacks as students.  The school included a free library and a massive lecture hall.  

Cooper became active in the anti-slavery movement and was a vigorous supporter of the Union cause during the war.  He was, as well, concerned with the Indian Reform movement and helped organize the United States Indian Commission, dedicated to the protection and "elevation" of Native Americans.

An ardent proponent of paper currency, Peter Cooper helped found the Greenback Party and in 1876 was its candidate for President.  His political stance made his mansion the target for one journalist, Francis R. Porter, in 1880.  On December 11, The New York Times reported that Porter, "who smashed the windows in the vestibule of the residence of the Hon. Abram S. Hewitt, at No. 9 Lexington-avenue, in order, as he said, to revenge himself on the venerable Peter Cooper, was arraigned on an indictment accusing him of malicious mischief."

The article noted, "The prisoner, in conversation with the court officers, said he expected to realize a handsome revenue from the sale of his paper.  The trial, he said, would be a spicy one.  George Francis Train and himself, he said, would have Mr. Cooper and Mr. Hewitt on the witness stand."

On April 4, 1883 Peter Cooper died in the mansion.   His funeral was held in All Souls' Unitarian Church nearby at 20th Street and Fourth (later Park) Avenue.

In the meantime, Abram S. Hewitt had entered politics in 1874 when he was elected to the U. S. House of Representatives.  Two years after his father-in-law's death, in 1885, the Hewitts hired architect Stanford White to remodel the Lexington Avenue mansion.  He removed the now-outdated stoop, and lowered the entrance to a the former basement level.  Because the doorway was now below sidewalk level, the columned portico, which provided a balcony to what had had been the entrance, took on rather squat proportions.  

from Old Buildings of New York City, 1907, (copyright expired)

The New York Sun deemed the 35-room Hewitt mansion "Probably the most artistic as well as beautiful house in New York," saying it "has been thoroughly remodeled and refurnished from top to bottom."  Stanford White had designed the interiors in French motifs, so popular in the 1890's.

"The great drawing room, which is perfectly square, is decorated in Louis XVI style, and for the most part is furnished with articles of the same period," said the article.  The walls were covered in crimson damask silk, which matched the draperies.  From the domed ceiling hung a large alabaster lamp, mounted in gilded bronze.  The New York Sun said, "Among the exquisite articles in the room is a Louis XV harp, gilded and carved, with its sounding board covered with beautifully painted flowers and musical instruments."

Adjoining the great drawing room was the Louis XV style "small drawing room."  The article said, "in its furniture are seen three distinct styles in vogue during the reign of that monarch."  The walls were covered in greenish-gray silk, and the silk draperies were an exact copy of the "bedroom hangings designed by Phillippe de la Salle and presented to the Dauphin, afterward Louis XVI" upon his marriage to Marie Antoinette.

Departing from the French motif was the Renaissance style dining room.  The wood paneled ceiling and walls were copied from a baronial mansion in England.  The New York Sun said, "The carved furniture and window hangings are an exact reproduction of the period.  Crimson is the prevailing tint."  Most notable was the painted frieze of women and children playing with fruits and flowers.  "It was purchased by Mr. Hewitt off the walls of a decaying Venetian palace."

Stanford White transformed the original entrance into a stately balcony with chest-high railings.  The gas lamps were added during Hewitt's term as mayor.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

On March 4, 1887, Abram S. Hewitt took office as mayor of New York City.  With his new role, the Lexington Avenue mansion was expectedly host to prestigious figures.  But perhaps none was more distinguished than the guest of honor at an afternoon reception on May 21, 1887, Queen Kapiolani of Hawaii.  The New York Times reported, "The house was handsomely decorated, and the broad marble stairway leading from the entrance hall to the main drawing rooms was appropriately flanked with incense-breathing clusters of Spring blossoms."

The Queen and her substantial entourage arrived about 4:30.  "She was met at the door by the Mayor, who escorted her upstairs to where Mrs. Hewitt and her daughters, assisted by the Misses Cooper, were engaged in welcoming their guests."  Only a few others had arrived, but by 5:00, said the article, "they began coming thick and fast, and the Mayor was kept busy introducing New-York's fair women and brave men to her Majesty, who expressed herself as delighted with everything she saw."

It was an highly important social and political incident and any glitch could have international ramifications.  Outside was an army of police officers who kept everyone within a two-block radius moving along.  The streets were closed to any vehicles except those bringing guests.

In the winter of 1899, the Hewitts had a prominent houseguest.  On February 24 The New York Times reported, "Lord Charles Beresford is the guest of ex-Mayor Hewitt at his residence, 9 Lexington Avenue, where he will remain about a fortnight."  The article added, "It will be remembered that Mr. Hewitt, when Mayor, married at the City Hall, Lord Charles Beresford's present sister-in-law, Lady William Beresford, to the late Duke of Marlborough."

A year earlier, on February 17, 1898, the Hewitts had given a most innovative entertainment.  The New York Times explained it "took place in the form of a 'plant party," and was attended "by several hundred of the city's wealthiest and most fashionable people."  Each of the well-dressed guests represented a vegetable.  The article said:

The edifying spectacle of richly costumed and bejeweled women carrying about on their persons imitations of various representatives of the vegetable kingdom, from squash and lettuce to meteor roses and orchids, and of men in conventional evening dress, with similar additions, was something enough out of the ordinary to interest the people concerned, and also plenty of others who were not favored with invitations.

At the time, the Hewitts' unmarried daughters Sara and Eleanor had taken their places in high society, as evidenced in an announcement in The New York Times on March 17, 1901:

Perhaps the most original entertainment of the coming week will be that to be given on Tuesday evening by the Misses Hewitt at their residence, 9 Lexington Avenue.  There will be a little play, and an especially good opera singer has been engaged to sing.

In December 1902 Abram S. Hewitt became afflicted with obstructive jaundice.  On January 11, 1903, his doctors released a statement saying, "Mr. Hewitt has continued to grow progressively weaker.  He sleeps most of the time, and suffers little pain."  The extended family members were called to the house.

Newspapers published daily updates on his condition.  On January 13, for instance, The New York Times rather insensitively reported, "The condition of ex-Mayor Abram S. Hewitt, who lies near death's door at his residence...remained practically unchanged at 2 o'clock this morning."

Hewitt lingered until January 18.  According to reports, he removed the oxygen tube, which had helped him breathe, from his mouth and uttered, "And now, I am officially dead."   His funeral was held on January 21, The New York Times describing the services as "doubly impressive in their dignified simplicity and the absence of all ostentation."  

The Hewitt mansion as it appeared around the time of the former Mayor's death.  image via ringwoodmanor.org.

Sarah Amelia and her unmarried daughters lived on in the mansion.  Following the tragic sinking of the R.M.S. Titanic on April 15, 1912, Sarah and her daughter-in-law Mary (the wife of Edward Hewitt) helped organize the Women's Relief Committee.  Within four days the group had collected more than $12,000--around $330,000 today--to help the survivors.  On April 19 The Evening World noted, "the next meeting of the Women's Relief Committee will be held to-morrow morning at 11 o'clock in the home of Mrs. Abram S. Hewitt, No. 9 Lexington avenue."

Sarah Amelia Cooper Hewitt photo via ringwoodmanor.org

The group was Sarah's last philanthropic effort.  She died at Ringwood Manor on August 14, 1912.  The Evening World reported that she had "inherited $3,000,000 from her husband."  That amount would top $82.5 million today.

The New York Times reported, "Under her will...Sarah C. and Eleanor G. Hewitt [receive] equal shares in 9 Lexington Avenue, and its furnishings."  Each of her children received 600 acres of Ringwood Major "that her children might also live near each other in the country."  

The will also instructed Sarah and Eleanor "to collect all papers relating to their grandfather, Peter Cooper, and their father, Mayor Hewitt, and to edit these in the form of biographies, of which they should hold the copyrights."  It directed that all profits from those books should "be used in decorating the museum of the Cooper Institute."

The Hewitt sisters never married.  They acted in unison, appearing in society pages always as the Misses Hewitt.  In listing the events of the week on January 24, 1915, for instance, The Sun noted, "FRIDAY--The Misses Hewitt, 9 Lexington avenue, a musicale."  

Passionately conservative, they hosted a meeting of the New York State Association Opposed to Woman Suffrage in the house in April 1918.

from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Eleanor, known to the family as Nellie, died in 1924.  Six years later, on October 16, 1930, Sarah died in the Lexington Avenue mansion, "where she had been confined to her bed since an operation performed in 1928," according to The New York Times.  Sarah was 71 years old.

Of her siblings, only Erskine and Edward Hewitt survived her.  Erskine was the principal beneficiary of her nearly $6 million estate.  She was generous to two of the servants.  William Donnelley received a bequest of $200,000 in today's money, and Anna Engesser received, "a bequest of $1,000 and the income from a fund of $30,000."  The trust fund would equal about $600,000 today.

Erskine was the youngest of the Hewitt children.  Never married, he moved into the Lexington Avenue house and maintained a summer estate on Lake Cupsaw in Passaic County, New Jersey.  He died in the country home on May 22, 1938 at the age of 67.

Six months later, the mansion was opened to the public for a three-day auction--from November 9 through the 11th.  The New York Sun reported, "A quantity of the original rosewood and mahogany furniture, placed in the house when it was built, appears in the sale.  Most of this is in the American Empire style and is found both in the bedrooms and downstairs rooms."

A demolition permit for the property was granted in 1939.  But it survived until 1948 when it was razed to make way for a modern apartment building The Park Gramercy, designed by Boak & Raad, completed in 1951.

photo via compass.com

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The Lost J. Hooker Hamersley Mansion - No. 1030 Fifth Avenue

One of the rare photographs of the mansion was this one, published in The Inland Architect in 1899. (copyright expired)

James Hooker Hamersley had the two things necessary for acceptance in Manhattan high society: an impressive pedigree and immense wealth.   He traced his American roots to Robert Livingston the Elder who arrived in 1673 and was granted the Livingston Manor, and to Thomas Gordon who emigrated to America in 1684.

On April 31, 1888 Hamersley married Margaret Willing Chisolm in the Chisholm mansion at No. 76 Clinton Place, Brooklyn.  The California newspaper the Marin Journal described the bride as “a handsome Southern girl.”  The social status of the couple was evidenced in the bridal party.  Among Margaret’s bridesmaids was Mary Schieffelin, granddaughter of William H. Vanderbilt; and Hamersley’s ushers were Oakley Rhinelander, Lispenard Stewart, B. O. Chisolm, and John Hudden.

Five years earlier Hamersley’s cousin, Louis Carre Hamersley had died.  His unusual will would eventually cause social and legal drama for decades.   Louis was married to Lillian Price (known in society, according to the New-York Tribune, as “Lily”).   That marital alliance was not without its own drama—Lillian had originally been wooed by Andrew Gordon Hamersley, Louis’s father.

Louis was especially fond of J. Hooker Hamersley; and so his will directed that Lily would enjoy his $7 million fortune until her death.  Then it was to be distributed among charities unless his favorite cousin had “a male issue.”  If that were the case, the fortunate boy would inherit the millions.

Now Hamersley purchased the four-story brownstone at No 414 Madison Avenue for his bride.  Before long a baby was born—a daughter.  Margaret Rogers Hamersley died in infancy.   Two years later another baby was born and it too, was a girl.  The Marin Journal reported “There was woe in the household after this second disappointment.”

In the meantime, in 1886 Lillian Hamersley had married the 8^th Duke of Marlborough (her stepson, Charles Spencer-Churchill would marry Consuelo Vanderbilt in 1895).   The New-York Tribune noted “She was the first American woman to marry an Englishman of such rank, and the union attracted wide attention.”

Five years after the marriage the Duke in 1892 died in a bizarre incident.  The Tribune explained his death occurred “from the effects of chloroform fumes given off by liniment with which he was bathing the head of the duchess.”

And across the Atlantic that year the Hamersley family and society in general was ecstatic.  On August 6, 1892 The Illustrated American reported “Newport, R. I., had its aristocratic quiet disturbed a few days ago in a most unwonted fashion.  The coachman of Mr. J. Hooker Hammersley [sic], one of the members of the fashionable colony at the elegant capital, was seen to drive through the town at an early hour in the morning, waving his hat frantically and shouting with the enthusiasm of an Indian in warpaint: ‘Hip, hip, hurrah! We’ve got a seven million dollar baby up to our house.'”

Louis Gordon Hamersley was born on July 21, 1892.  The President of the Chemical National Bank, which managed the Hamersley estate, issued a lengthy telegram that said in part “Great joy has come to us in the shape of a bouncing boy, who, from all appearances, is here to stay.”  As far away as California newspapers carried the news of the heir-to-be.  “A halo of romance hangs over the millions of this tiny bit of humanity, and were he to die a vast estate would be dismembered and the portions dropped into the coffers of a score of big charitable institutions,” reminded the Marin Journal.

J. Hooker Hamersley in 1895  His vast wealth would be eclipsed by that of his son.  America's Successful Men of Affairs (copyright expired)

While his own two children were being raised in privileged surroundings, J. Hooker Hamersley was deeply interested in the welfare of the poor and orphaned.  He was a long-time financial supporter of the Newsboys’ Lodging House; and the Children’s Aid Society.

The Society opened its new Summer Home in Bath Beach, Brooklyn on June 18, 1895.  The New York Times said “It is a picturesque little village, this vacation home for New-York’s little waifs, with beautiful views on sea and land in all directions.”  Its dormitory cottages were donated by the likes of John Jacob Astor, Mrs. William Astor and Mrs. William Waldorf Astor.  And the main building was a gift of J. Hooker Hamersley.

The New York Times wrote of it, “The entrance to the park in which the home is situated is through the driveway of a building which, on a private estate, would be the lodge…it is of graceful architecture and finished outside with shingles left in their natural condition.”

The plot of the Louis C. Hamersley millions thickened that same year when the widowed dowager Duchess of Manchester remarried yet again.  Her new husband was Lord William Beresford “of the ancient family of Waterford, Ireland,” according to the Tribune.  Two years later, in 1897, a son was born. 

By now Manhattan’s wealthiest citizens were erecting lavish palaces along Fifth Avenue across from Central Park.  Even Caroline Schermerhorn Astor and her son, John Jacob Astor, had abandoned the brownstone mansion that had been the center of New York society for decades; moving north to Fifth Avenue and 65th Street.

Hamersley followed suit and in February 1897--the same year that William Beresford was born in England--he purchased the old four-story brownstone house on the northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 84^th Street.   Hamersley commissioned architect William B. Tuthill to transform the corner property into a limestone palace.  The nearly two-year project resulted in a massive mansion opening onto 84^th Street.  A happy blend of French and Italian Renaissance, the residence was five stories tall, including the steep mansard roof.   Ornate dormers with spiky finials poked through the roof along with the towering chimneys.  Angled bays on the Fifth Avenue end, petite stone balconies and a Corinthian portico added dimension to the façade.  A tall, elegant iron fence surrounded the property, interrupted only by the stone posts on either side of the entrance steps.

On November 2, 1898 Hamersley sold the Madison Avenue house for $75,000—more than $2 million in 2016.   The New York Times announced the family “will move into their new residence next week.”  It would be four months before the mansion was ready to receive guests.  On March 22, 1899 The New York Times reported on the first entertainment, held the evening before.

“The guests at Mr. and Mrs. Hamersley’s dinner last evening, and who numbered over twenty, inspected the new house with much interest.  The feature of the house is the splendid hall, which is fitted in dark woods and hung with old portraits.  A portrait of Sir Hugh Hamersley, Lord Mayor of London, during Queen Elizabeth’s reign, hangs at the foot of the grand staircase, while the surrounding walls are covered with other portraits of ancestors and relatives.”

The Hamersleys spent their summers at their sprawling country seat, Brookhurst, at Garrison-on-Hudson.  Margaret was busy during the winter season with dinners and receptions.  On January 16, 1901 The New York Times noted “Mr. and Mrs. J. Hooker Hamersley have planned to give a series of dinners at their residence, 1,030 Fifth Avenue.”  They would be among the last entertainments James H. Hamersley would enjoy in his home.

On Sunday, September 15 that year he died suddenly at the Garrison-on-Hudson house at the age of 57.  His funeral was held in Grace Church the following Thursday.  In reporting his death The Times noted “Mr. Hamersley’s city home was a new and handsome house he built recently at 1,030 Fifth Avenue.”  The newspaper reminded readers that little Louis C. Hamersley, now nine years old, was in line to inherit not only his father’s fortune; but the $7 million of Louis Carre Hamersley.

Less than three years later, on January 5, 1904, Margaret Chisolm Hamersley died.  Louis and Katherine were now two of the wealthiest orphans in the country.  “In addition to their mother’s estate,” reported The New York Times, “they will also inherit the fortune of their father, James Hooker Hamersley.  They also have a large interest in the estate of their grandfather, John W. Hamersley.”

Margaret had taken steps to ensure that her children would not grow up in someone else’s house.  “Mrs. Hamersley desired that her children should always have a home of their own, and they are now living in the family residence at Fifth Avenue and Eighty-fourth Street,” reported The Times on May 1.

Indeed, the children’s guardian, Katherine Winthrop Kean, had already gone to court to guarantee her wishes.  She asked the Supreme Court to allow them to live in the gigantic house “notwithstanding the necessarily large expense.”  Katherine Kean argued that their incomes from their “considerable fortunes” should be used “so as to allow them to continue to maintain the Fifth avenue household.”

The household would entail eight live-in servants and the continuance of their “companion,” Mrs. Sarah Lowrie.  Sarah, whose enviable position made her the de facto head of the household while the children were minors, put her foot down on a romantic rumor regarding the children in 1908.

Louis and Catherine continued their father’s support of the Newsboys’ Lodging House at No. 14 Chambers Street, and every year they financed the Christmas celebrations.   When Sarah Lowrie suspected that the rumors about the Hamersley children were stemming from the Lodging House, she threatened “It must stop, or it is probable that some patronage will be withdrawn from it.”

The New York Times explained “The story was that the two orphan children, whose father died in 1901 and mother in 1904, had never been told that they were each worth about $50,000,000; and that they had been secluded; that their companions had been strictly chosen, and that they imagined that the big family house belonged to Mrs. Lowrie.”  Sarah dismissed the story as “foolishly ridiculous.”

On January 11, 1909 Lady William Beresford, whom old New Yorkers remembered as Lillian Warren Price, died in Dorking England.  The New-York Tribune reported “The present Louis Hamersley will, accordingly, inherit the entire fortune.  The children…live at No. 1030 Fifth avenue.  Their parents are dead, and both children already possess considerable fortunes in their own names.”

More than 100 relatives had been waiting for Lillian’s death.   The Albany Court of Appeal was inundated with law suits seeking to overturn Louis Carre Hamersley’s will, thereby stripping the teen-aged boy of his massive inheritance.  The main point of contention was that “it was illegal to make provision in a will for some person not yet born.”  The Times noted that as many as 25 lawyers were engaged at one point.

While the legal battle dragged on, the Hamersley children lived on in their lavish home.  In December 1909 Katherine Kean, still guardian, gave a dinner dance in the mansion for Catherine’s introduction to society. 

Finally, on June 3, 1913 newspapers reported that Louis Hamersley had won his inheritance, which after litigation was now $5.785 million—in the neighborhood of $145 million today.  Louis was legally an adult the following year and a sophomore at Harvard.  He purchased a large estate, Maizeland, on Cruger Island near Barrytown, New York where he and his sister intended to spend their summers.

On April 8, 1914 the 21-year old announced the engagement of his sister to Samuel Neilson Hinckley.  The New York Times called the upcoming marriage “of widespread social importance.”  It noted “She has traveled extensively is a talented musician, and has devoted much of her time since her formal debut to her pet philanthropies.”  The newspaper mentioned that she would be spending the early part of the summer at the Barrytown estate, before going to Bar Harbor and Southampton “later in the season.”

The Fifth Avenue mansion was, perhaps, a bit too large for the now-solitary Louis.  In 1916 he leased it furnished to Moses Taylor; in 1919 to J. Carr Dunn of London; and in 1920 to millionaire C. F. Rogers.  In the meantime, Louis Hamersley was spending much time racing his yacht, the Acushia, and entertaining the troops at his country estate.

On September 2, 1921 1,200 crippled war veterans boarded a steamer up the Hudson to Maizeland.  “It’s going to be one glorious old outing for the boys who came back from the war, some of them in sound health and a lot of them without legs or arms, gassed and crippled for life,” wrote The Evening World.   Hamersley had two boatloads of provisions shipped in for the three-day outing.

The following year he gave another massive party.  On September 3, 1922 the New York Herald reported “He has invited all the First Division men who served overseas to be his guests over the holiday.”

Wurtz Bros. photographed the replacement building on November 2, 1942.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

By now Louis C. Hamersley had not lived at No. 1030 Fifth Avenue for at least six years.  In 1923 he commissioned architects James Carpenter and Rosario Candela to design a modern apartment building on the site.  It would include a 23-room penthouse for Hamersley.  The new structure was completed in 1924 and the Hamersley mansion disappeared from memory—unknown to some of the most fervent New York history buffs.