The Geo. Nichols House -- No. 108 E. 37th Street

photo by Alice Lum

At the 19^th century dawned, the sprawling country estates of Manhattan were doomed.  The relentless northward expansion of the city spurred the 1811 Commissioners’ Plan which laid out the regimented grid of streets and avenues.  One by one the farms and estates were developed with houses, stores and churches.

What had been the country estate of Robert and Mary Murray held out until 1847 when their descendants created the Murray Hill Restrictive Agreement.  It ensured that development of the land would be limited to upscale brick or stone residences, churches and private stables.

Among the homes built in the Murray Hill area was the rowhouse at No. 108 East 37^th Street erected for Jacob Voorhies, Jr. around 1866.  Voorhies was a “grader” of roadways and with the rapid development of Manhattan at the time of the Civil War, he was not only a busy man; he became a very wealthy one.  As a matter of fact, it was Voorhies himself who had graded the roads in the neighborhood.  In 1863 he petitioned the City Council “for extension of time to complete the grading of Twelfth-avenue from Thirty-seventh-street to Forty-second-street.”

Like the other homes on the block, the Voorhies home was four stories high over an English basement.  A broad brownstone stoop rose from the sidewalk.  The new, fashionable neighborhood was populated by some of the most respected names in Manhattan society.  Voorhies was well-known in yachting circles.  He was a member of the Brooklyn and the New York Yacht Clubs and owned “the celebrated Madeleine and other fast yachts,” according to The New York Times.

With the opening of the summer season of 1871, the Newport community was intrigued by the addition of the “Cliff Cottages”—an experiment in luxurious rental properties.  The New York Times said “These are nine in number, a little south of the bathing beach; adjoining is a hotel for the exclusive accommodation of those occupying the cottages.  The grounds are tastefully laid out, each family having separate grounds and flower-beds, and which are kept in order by the association.  Stables are provided also, with servants’ apartments at the hotel.  Surely it is a novel idea.”

Among the wealthy families to take one of the cottages that first season were Jacob Voorhies and his wife.  Their neighbors that summer included Livingstons, Lawrences, Stokes and equally moneyed families from Providence, Hartford and Philadelphia.

On the night of November 29, 1871 the jewels of New York’s wealthiest socialites glistened in the glow of the Academy of Music’s chandeliers as a grand ball was held in honor of the visiting grand Duke Alexis of Russia.  Leslie’s Illustrated Paperreported “At nine-o’clock, the guests began to arrive, and during the next hour carriages were continually driving up in front of the Academy.  At ten o’clock the interior of the building presented one of the most magnificent scenes that has ever been witnessed in the city.  The brilliantly illuminated decorations and elegantly dressed ladies combined to entrance and bewilder the spectator.”

The elaborate decorations were evidenced by the Grand Duke’s table.  “The table was tastefully arranged with a profusion of choice and natural flowers.  The ornamental confectionery and other designs on the table included two temples of the Czar Alexander; two monuments of Washington, with cupids and American flags on top; two imperior meringues, with American eagles and flags of both nations, and two ships of war, made of nougat and spun sugar.”

Jacob Voorhies and his wife were there that night, rubbing shoulders with the cream of New York society, including Caroline Astor, several Roosevelts, Livingstons, Schermerhorns, nine Morgans and no fewer than six Vanderbilts.

In January 1878 Jacob Voorhies, Jr. died in the house on East 37^th Street.  It became home to Edward R. Carpentier, whose name was often spelled “Carpenter” in newspapers.  He died in the house on Sunday evening, June 10, 1883 at the age of 62.  Carpentier’s brother, Horace Walpole Carpentier, moved from California to New York and took up residency in No. 108 East 37^th Street.

The colorful Horace W. Carpentier, had traveled to California during the Gold Rush.  He was a “Major General” of the California State Militia, became Oakland’s first mayor (he was ousted by angry citizens when it was discovered he had finagled complete control of the waterfront for his own profit), and was president of the California State Telegraph Company and the Overland Telegraph Company.  It was Carpentier who sent the first transcontinental telegraph message—addressed to President Abraham Lincoln.

Now in New York, Carpentier shared the 37^th Street house with his young cousin and ward, Maud Alice Burke.  The attention of the press would be focused on the household when Prince Andre Poniatowski of Poland arrived in New York in 1892 and showed interest in young Maud.  The Prince’s brother, Prince Charles, had married Maud Ely Goddard of New York a decade earlier, and it appeared this prince was following his lead.

Although Prince Andre insisted to reporters that “he did not come to America to seek a rich wife and that he refrained from talking to rich girls,” he quickly proposed to Maud Burke in February 1893.  Maud accepted and The Evening World commented that “Prince Poniatowski came rather prominently before the public through his announcement.”

Royal titles did not impress Horace Carpentier, however, and he vehemently opposed the engagement.  Maud was no match for her guardian and The Evening World said “After many varying reports that the engagement was off, then that it was renewed, it was finally authoritatively declared to be broken, and Miss Burke returned to California.”

Maud may have realized that her guardian was correct in his assessment of the prince when, just a few months later newspapers reported “It is authoritatively announced that Prince Andre Poniatowski, of Poland, the former fiance of Maud Alice Burke, will marry Miss Sperry, daughter of the Stockton (Cal.) millionaire.  Miss Sperry’s father owns the Stockton Flour Mills and controls the California flour trade.”

In the end, Horace Carpentier got his way and Maud Alice Burke got her title.  At 4:00 in the afternoon of April 17, 1895 she married Sir Bache Cunard in the house on 37^thStreet.  The groom’s family was “largely interested in the Cunard Steamship Line” and by marrying a baronet, Maud became Lady Cunard.

Horace, at the time, was not well and on April 18 The New York Times mentioned that “When the engagement of the couple was announced about a week ago, it was understood that the wedding would take place in June.  Only two days ago, it is said, was it decided to hasten the wedding.  The wedding was a very quiet one, owing to the illness of Mr. Carpenter [sic].”

The newlyweds sailed off to England on the steamship Lucania, leaving Horace alone in the house until his aged niece, Maria Hall Williamson moved in.  Maria, who was the widow of General James A. Williamson, was ten years younger than her uncle.  She died in the house at the age of 80 in January 1916.

Two years later, on January 5, 1918, the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported that “General Horace W. Carpentier, who donated a chair of Chinese language and literature at Columbia University about sixteen years ago, plans to give his fine dwelling at 108 East 37^th street to Barnard College, when he dies.”  Carpentier’s donation gave him use of the house until his death; and, oddly enough, “It is also stipulated that for six years after his death, it will continue in possession of one he will name at some future time.”

If newspapers thought that the pre-mortum bequeath meant that Carpentier’s health was failing, he vociferously denied it.  Two weeks after the announcement, The Sun reported “Gen. Horace M. Charpentier [sic], hale and hearty in his ninety-third year, was walking blithely about his home at 108 East Thirty-seventh street, expressing a militant opinion concerning newspapers that insisted upon visiting him with serious illness.  The General said his health was bully and that, after all, there was a touch of kindness in the references to his illness that gave to the error some mitigation.”

Despite his protests, Carpentier died in the house on January 31.  The strong-minded millionaire donated the bulk of his estate to colleges and universities and generally ignored family.  Saying that “in my well-considered opinion, I have heretofore been fairly liberal in their direction,” he explained that the fact that he did not give his next of kin more than $2,000 was “not through oversight or failure of memory.”

Most surprising was his ignoring Maud in the will.  She had broken her engagement to the Polish prince under threat of being disinherited.  Now, apparently, Carpentier felt she was faring well enough without his money.

Before the year was up, the house was purchased by J. P. Morgan, who lived nearby at the corner of 37^th Street and Madison Avenue.  The Sun reported on December 24, 1918 that Morgan purchased the house “to preserve the residential character of the section.”  Perhaps the best way to ensure that the character of the neighborhood was preserved would be to move his newly-married daughter into the house.

Jane N. Morgan was married to George Nichols on November 14, 1917.  Nichols was a partner in Minot, Hooper & Co., cotton goods dealers.  A clubman and yachtsman, he owned the yacht The Edythe and held memberships in several of the city’s exclusive clubs.

The title to No. 108 East 37^th Street was transferred to Jane and in 1921 architect Charles A. Platt was commissioned to make over the outdated Victorian.  For two decades wealthy Murray Hill homeowners had been updating their expensive properties by stripping off the brownstone facades and recreating up-to-date homes.  No. 108 would soon join them.

Platt removed the stoop and moved the entrance to sidewalk level.  The old brownstone front was replaced by a neo-Federal façade of red brick and white stone trim.  The reserved, formal design featured splayed lintels, handsome paneled double doors below a leaded transom, and Flemish bond brickwork.  The renovations were completed, according to The New York Times, in 1922.

photo by Alice Lum

Five years later George Nichols brought Platt back to add an addition on the roof.  The family would stay in the house for three decades; during which time the newspapers followed George’s yachting activities, the daughters’ engagements and marriages, and the comings and goings from Newport and Long Island summer homes.  Then, on December 10, 1950, The New York Times reported that Jane had sold the house to the Murray Hill Management Corporation.

The new owner wasted no time in announcing its plans to convert the house “into luxury apartments.”  Completed in 1951, the conversion resulted in two apartments per floor and a doctor’s office on ground level.  Another renovation in 1987 left the doctor’s office intact; but resulted in two duplexes—on the second to third and sixth to penthouse floors—a single apartment on the fifth and two apartments on the fourth floor.

photo by Alice Lum

Charles Platt’s proper 1921 exterior, however, is little changed. 

The 1908 Roosevelt Houses -- Nos. 47-49 East 65th Street

The Sara Delano Roosevelt-Franklin Delano Roosevelt House -- photo Cromwell International

Sara Ann Delano, who could trace her ancestors to the Mayflower, married the wealthy widower James Roosevelt in 1880. They had one son, Franklin.   When James Roosevelt died in 1900 the domineering Sara doted even more on her already-spoiled son.

Sara poses with Franklin in a highlands outfit in 1887 -- photo Franklin D. Roosevelt Library

Two years later the Harvard student, Franklin, met his distant cousin, Anna Eleanor Roosevelt. In 1903, after a reception and dinner at the White House (President Theodore Roosevelt was Eleanor’s uncle), the two began seeing one another. A year later, in November, Franklin proposed.

Sara Delano Roosevelt was not pleased.

On her insistence, the engagement was not announced for a month while she argued against the marriage. Then, in 1904, Sara swept her son away on a cruise in the hopes that separation would bring him to his senses. It didn’t.

“I know what pain I must have caused you,” Franklin wrote to his mother, referring to the engagement, “I know my own mind, and known it for a long time, and know that I could never think otherwise.”

Much to Sara’s disappointment, the couple was married on St. Patrick’s Day 1905 with President Roosevelt giving way the bride.

The newlyweds took an apartment and then left for a three-month honeymoon. They returned to find that Sara Roosevelt had started plans for a double townhouse for the three of them – Franklin and his new wife on one side, she on the other.

Designed by architect Charles A. Platt the house was completed in 1908. Situated on East 65th Street near 5th Avenue, it was a stately red brick Neo-Georgian structure with a limestone first-story. The arched doorway with double wrought-iron doors framed a handsome fanlight. The foyer beyond contained the doors leading to the separate residences.


The house during the FDR Presidency - photo NYPL Collection

 At the second floor, with its four tall-multi-paned windows, a wrought-iron balcony extended the width of the structure. A striking carved cartouche between the third and fourth stories added visual interest.

Sara, known by society as Mrs. James Roosevelt, took up residence in No. 47, while Franklin and Eleanor moved in next door at No. 49. Totally dominating the couple’s lives, she chose their furniture and décor and hired their household staff.

Sara with her young daughter-in-law in 1908 -- photo Franklin D. Roosevelt Library

The couple stayed in the house when they were in New York, which as the years passed, became less and less.

In 1918 the Spanish Flu pandemic swept the globe. More than a quarter of the world’s population was infected and between 50 and 100 million died. On September 17 of that year, Franklin Roosevelt, now Assistant Secretary of the Navy, arrived in New York after two months abroad. Roosevelt had contracted the dreaded disease aboard ship which now had worsened with a slight case of pneumonia. Rather than being taken to his own home where Eleanor was waiting, he was taken to his mother’s side of the residence.

Only three years later, in August of 1921, Franklin was abruptly stricken with polio. After two months of hospitalization, he insisted on going to East 65th Street, rather than the more private Hyde Park estate upstate. Here, in the fourth floor bedroom, he spent months in a resolute struggle to recover and resume his political and social life.

Gradually Franklin and Eleanor spent less time at No. 49 until, by 1928, the family was there only sporadically. After her husband’s election to the White House, Eleanor preferred to spend her time in New York at an apartment at 20 East 11th Street in Greenwich Village. Finally, in October, 1934, The New York Times reported that “President Roosevelt's town house at 47-49 East Sixty-fifth Street is for rent. A rectangular sign saying so, freshly coated with cream-colored paint and lettered in bright ultramarine, was hung to the right of the arched doorway yesterday morning.”

Mrs. James Roosevelt, however, remained firmly entrenched. Sara gave regular teas in support of her many charities and the door to her side of the residence welcomed a steady stream of New York socialites until 1941.

Perhaps the first hint that things were not well was when, on September 5th of that year, Eleanor gave up her 11th Street apartment and moved back into the home on 65th Street (which The New York Times noted “has stood unoccupied for most of the period since her husband went to the White House in 1933). Eleanor told the press her move was in part economical but that she “will be next door to the President’s mother, who has not been in good health.”

Two days later Sara Delano Roosevelt was dead.

A week later Eleanor Roosevelt instructed the real estate firm of Pease Ellian, Inc. to put the house on the market. In October, the President and Eleanor went through the house for the last time to select “furniture and bric-a-brac that he wants to transfer to his home at Hyde Park on the Hudson,” reported The Times.

The house was acquired in 1942 by a group who presented it to Hunter College as a social and interfaith center. Franklin Roosevelt expressed his happiness the home’s new use, which was to foster “mutual understanding among Protestant, Jewish and Catholic students.” The joined houses, he said, brought “memories of joy and sorrow.”

Eleanor Roosevelt spoke at the dedication ceremonies.

photo by Alice Lum

The President personally furnished the library and presented a large number of books. The two dining rooms were combined as were the two parlors; but otherwise the interiors were kept essentially intact.

Today the dignified double home that Sara Delano Roosevelt built looks just as it did in 1908. It is a fine example of early 20th Century townhouse architecture and an important piece of American history.