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Showing posts with label clarence f. true. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clarence f. true. Show all posts

Monday

The Amelia Bingham House -- No. 103 Riverside Drive

photo by trulia.com
As the 19th century came to a close, developers were busy building luxurious row houses along the new Riverside Drive. The breathtaking views of the Hudson River and the palisades on the opposite shore made the site spectacular. Yet the wealthy New Yorkers who settled here would not be among the inner circle of society.

Decades later the Works Progress Administration’s “New York City Guide” would say “Riverside Drive, like Wall Street, is a national symbol of wealth, but unlike Wall Street it has never quite deserved its reputation. From the 1890’s until after the World War, to be sure, it was popular with the newly rich, whose ornate gray and brownstone battlemented houses bore witness to economic success; yet, lacking an old-family tradition, it never rivaled streets like Fifth Avenue in the esteem of fashionable society.”

Among those gray and brownstone houses were six quaint residences designed and built by Clarence F. True between 1898 and 1899 between 83rd and 84th Streets with financial help from famous actor Joseph Jefferson. True developed much of Riverside Drive on a speculative basis and his Elizabethan Revival style became his hallmark. While the design of each of the houses was individual, they flowed cohesively, creating a charming row. True received permission from the Commissioner of Buildings in 1898 to build over the property lines; resulting in an undulation of bowed fronts and projecting porches.

In the midst of the row was No. 103, an L-shaped five-story mansion with a steep tile roof, side courtyard (a rare luxury in the city), and a deep bowfront.

part of the row before losing their bowfronts and porches -- photo NYPL Collection
On April 23, 1902 Joseph Jefferson purchased the house for $40,000 in foreclosure actions against True. Jefferson, who is widely credited with first saying “There are no small parts, only small actors,” is also remembered in the nicknaming of The Church of the Transfiguration as “The Little Church Around the Corner.”  In 1870 when Jefferson tried to arrange the funeral for his actor friend George Holland at, presumably, Marble Collegiate Church he was rebuffed because of the deceased’s profession. Being told that there was a little church around the corner “where they do that sort of thing,” Jefferson replied “God bless the little church around the corner.”
Actor Joseph Jefferson in 1903 while he owned No. 103

The actor sold the house in 1906 to financier Elbridge Gerry Snow, Jr. and his wife Maud. Snow doubtlessly regretted the purchase when Charlotte Y. Ackerman, who owned the lot just south of the row, won a court case in which she argued that the projecting bowfronts and porches encroached on the public street and lowered her property value.

The courts ruled that the owners had to remove the fronts of their homes. Snow commissioned architects Clinton & Russell to design a new façade, using the materials from the demolished original. Completed in 1911, the new front was a flat ironspot brick wall with limestone trim. The architects retained the original flavor of True’s design by including the arched, recessed entranceway, the original second story windows and the arched fourth-story windows and keystones. The cornice was nearly identical and the peaked red tile roof was salvaged.

No. 103 (with awnings) after the 1911 renovation flattened its front -- photo NYPL Collection
A ground-floor arched service entrance was installed where the courtyard wall had been.

Shortly after the renovations were completed, the title was transferred to actress Amelia Bingham. The feisty and colorful Bingham was a favorite on the New York stage and she set about sprucing up the outside of the mansion. On two small balconies above the first floor (now gone) she perched three heroic-sized statues and two large busts – the one directly over the entrance being of Shakespeare. The redecoration prompted The New York Times to call it “one of the really unique residences in the city,” and it became a sightseeing attraction – popularly called “the house with the statues.”

In 1916 the New York Central Railway proposed laying tracks below Riverside Drive along the Hudson. Amelia Bingham was enraged. She hosted a meeting of the Woman’s League for the protection of Riverside Park in the house.

The actress was firm. “We must turn to these splendid men –oh, let’s say they’re splendid, anyway—and tell them to have mercy on our happiness…But if they persist I shall sell my home for what I can get and move where I won’t have to listen to steam shovels for ten years, for, I tell you, there are lots of us who can’t wait the generation it will take the trees to grow again in our beautiful front yard.”

At another meeting Bingham pled, “For all these years I have loved to sit in my front window and get drunk with the beauty of Riverside Park. I have lived on the Thames, on the Seine, on the Rhine, and always come home to get drunk again on the glory of Riverside Park.”

The colorful stage actress Amelia Bingham -- photo NYPL Collection
A year later Bingham was in danger of losing her view not because of the New York Central Railway but because her home was in foreclosure. The actress had failed to pay a second mortgage of $25,000 and, when the actress was ordered to vacate the property or pay rent of $250 per month, she refused to do either.

The crisis passed but in 1925 more drama visited Amelia Bingham in her Riverside Drive home. Two young robbers gained entrance and forced the maid at gunpoint to lead them upstairs. There Bingham, her seamstress and her maid were bound with silk stockings while the robbers ransacked her bedroom, making off with $1,500 of jewelry and valuables.

In the meantime, the quick-witted Amelia sat on a bag containing $20,000 in cash and valuables and chatted casually with the thieves to distract them. It was “just like the stage,” she explained later when questioned on her cool-headedness.

The remarkable actress died in the house on September 1, 1927 and the following year her sisters sold it.  Dr. John A. Harriss, the Special Deputy Police Commissioner in charge of traffic moved in. An authority on street traffic problems, he invented the traffic signal light system and came up with the innovative idea of one-way streets. Dr. Harris died of a heart attack in the house in October 1938.

In 1942 the storied house, which now boasted a self-service elevator, was sold for $14,000 cash – the amount of the outstanding mortgage. The house at the time was assessed at $32,000, $27,000 of which was land value.

No. 103 Riverside Drive managed to escape being divided into apartments, although its interiors have been highly altered. In November 1997 the house was purchased for $13.475 million by financier Richard Schneider and his wife Tami.

Original interior details -- fireplace, wainscoting, paneled stairhall and archway treatments -- survive.  photo by trulia.com
In 2010 the amazing and unique home with a colorful past was put on the market for $21.5 million before being taken off again a few months later.

Wednesday

The 1897 Miner Mansion -- No. 40 Riverside Drive



photo by Alice Lum

In her 1904 book A Loiterer in New York, Helen W. Henderson describes the completed Riverside Drive.  “When one turns through many busy byways, from the banal city straggling northwest from Columbus Circle into the romantic windings of the Riverside Drive, the whole face of nature assumes a different aspect.  This priceless view of the Hudson, then revealed, saved by some miracle from the base uses of commerce, yet terribly menaced by railroad encroachments, as we are daily reminded, is one of the enchanting reserves of New York, the one instance, as one might say, in which advantage has been taken of the inherent beauty of the island formation.”

The “enchanting reserves” took decades to complete.  Along the curving Drive that followed the contour of the cliffs rose mansions that rivaled Fifth and Madison Avenues.  Their breathtaking views of the Hudson across Riverside Park were unrivaled.

By the time Helen Henderson wrote about the Drive, architect Clarence True had clearly made his mark here.  Responsible for scores of houses on the Upper West Side, by the mid-1890s he was working both as developer and architect.  Much of the flavor of the area—Flemish gables, hefty turrets and whimsical balconies—were the result of his preference to historic architectural styles.  While True turned to historic styles for inspiration, he was not a slave to historical accuracy; preferring to create a picturesque and charming structure rather than a reproduction.  The New-York Tribune said of him “Mr True is noted for boldness and originality in his building enterprises, and has probably done more toward the introduction of new styles and plans in our local domestic architecture than any other architect.”

In 1897 Clarence True completed a row of houses that included the 32-foot wide mansion at the northeast corner of Riverside Drive and 76th Street.  Constructed of buff-colored brick on a base of limstone, the French Renaissance residence was five stories tall with 17 rooms, an elevator and four bathrooms.  True took full advantage of the corner plot by designing a nearly-circular bay that separated the two nearly planar elevations on either side.

A stately entrance hinted at the elaborate interiors -- photo by Alice Lum
The new mansions were sold to wealthy businessmen.  No. 337 West 76th Street was sold on November 17, 1897 to a vice-president of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad; just three days after The New York Times had reported that “The purchase of a Riverside Drive residence by Henry C. Miner stands at the head of a small list of dealings in private dwellings.”  That house was No. 40 Riverside Drive and cost the new owner $125,000—over $3 million today.

Henry C. Miner had one of the most varied resumes of his day.  After graduating from the American Institute School he became a pharmacist.  The New-York Tribune would later say “He grew tired of the drug business and studied medicine under his brother, Dr. Edward Miner.”  When the Civil War broke out he enlisted as a pharmacist in the Mechanics and Artisans’ Regiment.

Following the war he became an agent for Professor De Courcey who lectured on medical subjects.  Then, in 1864, he became manager for Signor Blitz, a magician and bird trainer.  Then he managed the Thayer & Noyes Circus.  When the American Institute opened its fair in the Crystal Palace in 1868, Miner served as Secretary.  Still bored, he thought perhaps his career should be in police work.

Henry Miner joined the police department and was stationed at the Mercer Street Station.  “This was even more unpleasant than being a drug clerk and Mr. Miner decided to get into something else,” said the Tribune.

The ever-resourceful “Harry” C. Miner built and managed a series of theaters including the London Theatre in the Bowery, the Fifth Avenue Theatre, Miner’s Bowery Theatre, and Miner’s Eighth Avenue Theatre among others.  In addition, he founded the Henry C. Minter Lithographing Company, a drugstore on the Bowery and one on West 125th Street (operated by the Henry C. Miner Drug Company); held large interests in locomotive companies and controlled the Piedmont Cable Road of Oakland, California.  And with all of this he still had time to serve a term in Congress.

Henry C. Miner -- New-York Tribune, February 23, 1900 (copyright expired)
Miner and his wife of thirty years, Julia, had four grown sons when Julia died in 1894.  Less than two years later the 64 year old Miner met the much younger actress Annie O’Neill while she was playing in “His Wife’s Father” in Washington.  In February 1896 their engagement was announced and they were married within the year.

The newlyweds moved into the Riverside Drive mansion; but all was not serene on the family front.  Miner’s sons were vehemently against the marriage and a rift developed between them and the millionaire.  The Evening World reported “Mr. Miner did not attempt to conceal his bitterness toward his sons after he married Miss Annie O’Neill, a well-known actress…He declared that the young men had not only opposed his marriage, but had persistently slighted their stepmother.”

Also in the house with the Miners and their staff was Annie's mother.  Although Henry was an active member of the New York Athletic Club and visited the clubhouse frequently, the family was socially quiet. 

The Evening World said “The house is filled with beautiful furniture, rich hangings and rare bric-a-brac.  Mrs. Miner’s apartments, on the third floor, overlooking the Hudson, are luxurious, and in these are many interesting souvenirs of travel, picked up in this country and abroad.  A fine library is a feature of the Miner house.”

The population in the mansion increased when Harry Miner became a father again.  Little John L. Miner was born on January 10, 1900.

A few weeks later, on Wednesday February 22, the new father spent the evening playing billiards at the New York Athletic Club.  He returned home around 1 a.m., rose around 10 in the morning and spent the day at home.  Around 3:00 he decided to go out driving, as he did every day, and ordered his carriage.  While he waited, he asked the butler to bring a cup of tea and suggested to Annie that she call her mother down to join them.

The New York Times reported “Mrs. Miner left the room to comply with his suggestion, and as she did so Mr. Miner arose from the chair in which he was sitting and started to walk to the table on which the butler had placed the tea tray.  As he moved he staggered and turned pale.”

According to the New-York Tribune, “He had just strength to reach a chair and call: ‘Annie, Annie, come quick! I feel so queer!’”

Annie, her mother, and the servants did what they could for him and messengers were sent for Drs. Steven Edson and George Rogers, both of whom lived nearby.  Another servant rushed to find a priest.  When the doctors arrived at the house, Miner was unconscious.  According to The Times, “Father Taylor of the Church of the Blessed Sacrament had been sent for, but he arrived too late to see Mr. Miner alive.”

The Evening World, on February 27, wondered about the state of the will and the $2 million estate: “Mrs. Miner, it is said, has persistently pleaded the cause of his sons, and has urged him to overlook his grievances and to make ample provision for them.

“If he adopted his wife’s suggestions, the four sons by the first marriage will receive comfortable fortunes, and there will be no cause for a contest.  The birth of a son about six weeks ago will involve a complication, unless Mr. Miner, as thought probable, specially provided for this contingency last Summer or made a later will.”

Thanks to Annie’s gentle intervention, Henry C. Miner’s four grown sons were included in his estate of around $2 million.  His infant son, John, however, was not.  Miner had not gotten around to amending his will. 

Despite for former animosity between the grown sons and the former actress; the settlement of the estate was amicable.  On February 28 The New York Times reported that the provisions of the will “are entirely satisfactory to all the members of Mr. Miner’s family, and that there will be no contest.”  The estate was divided among Annie and the sons in five equal portions; and little John Lansing Miner who was not included in the will was provided for “by agreement of all parties.”

The youthful widow Annie Miner -- The Evening World, November 25, 1901 (copyright expired)

The will instructed that “Mrs. Anne O’Neill Miner is also to receive the testator’s residence at 40 Riverside Drive, New York, free of all encumbrance, together with his horses and carriages, and other provision for her maintenance.”

Three months later Annie was looking for a new butler and placed an advertisement in the New-York Tribune.  She insisted he be “German with good references” and offered wages of $45.

photo by Alice Lum
Within the year, however, Annie hung a yellow "For Sale" sign in the front window.  On November 25, 1901 The Evening World reported on Annie's inducement to sell.  "'I have my own ideas of a house,’ Mrs. Miner said when asked to give her reasons for disposing of the property, ‘and I intend carrying out these ideas.  Oh, yes, I know this house is very charming and of course beautifully situated.  But I have a longing to make a home which shall be just to my taste in every particular.’”

For her dream home Annie Miner said “First of all, the neighborhood must be unexceptionable.”  Her choice of a four-story home on the northwest corner of Madison Avenue and 63rd Street apparently signaled a change of mind.

The sign in the reception room window did not produce a buyer and on December 7, 1901 the Riverside Drive residence and its furnishings were sold at auction.  Auctioneer C. E. Smith called the sale of the “magnificently furnished mansion” an “unparalleled display of rich effects and luxurious appointments, principally made to special order, and assuredly unsurpassed in any offering made this season.”

The house was purchased by Alan W. Wood, Pittsburgh steel tycoon “for something over $100,000.”  And the sale was an eerie case of déjà vu. 

Just before the Civil War broke out, Alan W. Wood had prepared to marry Sallie Suter (whom the New-York Tribune said “had no lack of admirers”).  Both came from prominent Pennsylvania families and Wood’s father owned the Conshokocken steel rolling mills. 

On the day before the wedding Sallie disappeared.  The New-York Tribune reported “When she returned she told her friends she was the wife of Theodore Mohr, who had been working in her father’s home, as a painter’s apprentice, and made love better than any of the students.”

Despite the scandal and humiliation, Wood remained friends with Sallie.   He married, had six children and amassed a fortune of between $15 and $20 million in the steel industry.  In the meantime, Sallie’s daughter, Goldie Lillian Mohr, grew to be a beautiful young woman and moved to New York where she took to the stage at the turn of the century.

“My face is my fortune,” she told a reporter.  “Without my beauty I could not get an engagement on the stage.  As it is, I can earn $25 a week for a season of forty weeks.  I can hold my beauty and my place on the stage for twenty years.  That is $20,000 and $10,000 for increased salary due to added experience and the total value of my beauty if $30,000.”

As it turned out, Goldie Mohr would not have to depend on the stage for her income.  Now, widowed, her mother’s former fiancé turned his attentions to her.  The romantic relationship between the chorus girl and their father caused heated animosity among Alan Wood's now-adult children.

The same year that Wood purchased the house, he sold his steel business to the United States Steel Corporation and retired.  He furnished the former Miner mansion with costly antiques, including a salon suite of Louis XVI furniture.  The furnishings were said to cost “more than $100,000”--equal to what he paid for the mansion itself.  Perhaps because of his family’s intense objections, however, he would not marry Goldie until March 1905.

Even before “he caused much gossip in social circles by marrying…Miss Goldie Lilian Mohr, at that time a member of Weber & Fields’s company,” as the New-York Tribune put it, Wood’s name appeared in local newspapers.  When bicycle policeman Kielly noticed the millionaire’s limousine speeding “at a lively pace” in the Bronx on the night of September 17, 1904 he pursued the vehicle and arrested the chauffeur, Joseph Romero.

The steel magnate was displeased with the inconvenience and shouted out to the cop “You will go out the first of October to make room for a good policeman.”

Two days later when Romero appeared before the judge, he protested “What could I do?  I had to obey my boss’s orders.”

The magistrate was inclined to agree and told Policeman Kielly “You should have arrested the owner of the automobile.  If you arrest any owners who are caught this way, I’ll hold then for trial all right.”

Perhaps as an appeasement, following the marriage Alan Wood “turned over his residence at No. 40 Riverside Drive to his children and lived with his wife at the Barnard, in Central Park West, in what might be called a modest apartment for a man of his wealth,” said The Evening World.  The autumn-spring couple lived quietly.  “They were infrequent visitors at the theatres and the restaurants where the gayety of Broadway life blossomed at midnight.  There was no flaunting of diamonds and fine raiment in the faces of her former associates by the wife of the elderly Pittsburg steel magnate.”

Goldie Mohr's face was her fortune -- The Evening World August 14, 1905 (copyright expired)

Five months after the wedding Alan Wood was operated on at Roosevelt Hospital for appendicitis.  On August 13, 1905 the New-York Tribune ran a headline “Alan W. Wood Seriously Ill.”  The following day he died.

On August 15 Goldie Mohr Wood left her apartment on Central Park West to look at her husband’s embalmed body for the last time.  The New-York Tribune said “she exhibited much grief.”  Another difficult hurdle lay in store.  “She will meet at the funeral to-day, for the first time, sons and daughters of Mr. Wood, who were offended by her marriage to their father and who may possibly contest his latest will, if it is found to give her too large a share of his estate,” said the newspaper.

The settlement of the estate was expectedly uncomfortable and contentious and the real property was liquidated as quickly as possible.  On Wednesday April 18, 1906 the mansion on Riverside Drive was once again put up for auction.  The auctioneer advertised the property as “one of the handsomest dwellings on Riverside Drive.”

It was purchased by Max D. Brill, a founder of Brill Brothers men’s clothing firm.  A self-made man, Brill left New York in 1880 at the age of 14 to make his way in the West.  Seven years later he returned and, with $300, started a clothing business with his brothers Maurice and Samuel.  By the time Brill purchased the Riverside Drive house, he was making millions.

The Brills raised four daughters and a son in the house and Mrs. Brill was as well known for her political activities as for her social and philanthropic works.  She was chairman of several women’s Republican committees and in 1928 was personally thanked by President Coolidge for her work.

In the 1920s the Brills had erected a bug-proof enclosure on the roof of the circular bay -- photo by Wurts Bros from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYW5HS8DM&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

The Brills stayed on in the house for decades, eventually seeing the engagements and marriages of their children.  In the meantime, 1920 appears to have been a difficult time for Mrs. Brill in terms of staff.  In February she advertised for a “Butler and useful” and later that year for a “Ladies’ Maid, willing to go to West End, Long Branch, N.J. for the summer.”

On April 22, 1934 Mrs. Brill died in Mount Sinai Hospital at the age of 56.  Her husband would survive four more years, dying of a heart ailment at the age of 72 on January 29, 1938.  Seven months later the house was sold to the Riverside School.  The New York Times noted “The dwelling will be altered for school uses.”

The exclusive pre-school accepted students aged four or five and prepared them for elementary school.  Although the mansion was converted to classrooms throughout (an apartment for the caretaker and supervisor was arranged on the top floor); an incredible amount of original architectural detailing was preserved.

The school remained in the house for decades.  When the institution left, the house was divided into two grand, multi-story apartments.  As realtors are wont to do, a romantic back-story was invented that artist Marc Chagall lived here in the 1940s—sharing space, apparently, with kindergarten children.

photo by Alice Lum
The dramatic history that played out within the walls of No. 40 Riverside Drive, however, needs no embellishment.  The mansion was the stage for two fascinating acts in New York City social and theatrical history.

Saturday

The 1897 Carroll Mansion -- No. 86 Riverside Drive

photo by Alice Lum

Clarence True worked in the office of esteemed architect Richard M. Upjohn until 1884 when he struck out on his own.  A few years later, around 1890, real estate developer Charles G. Judson hired True.  The two men had offices in the same building.

At the time the Upper West Side was emerging as Manhattan newest residential frontier as rows of eccentric townhouses sprouted on the streets and hefty mansions appeared on the avenues.  Clarence True threw himself headlong into the frenzy and by the turn of the century would be among the most prolific architects of the Upper West Side.

As the turn of the century approached, Riverside Drive rivaled Fifth and Madison Avenues with its spectacular mansions.  In 1897 Clarence True initiated his own project—acting as both speculator and architect for six lavish residences that wrapped the corner of 81st Street and Riverside Drive.

True often drew on historical styles for his charismatic works and for this group he turned to Elizabethan Renaissance Revival.  Serving as the focal point for the six homes was the hulking No. 86 Riverside Drive at the corner.  The imposing structure rose five stories and stretched 50 feet along the Drive. 

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYW5FLRBT&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&XXXFEP=1
High pointed gables marked both elevations of the rough-cut granite façade.  Romantic stone balconies harkened to chivalrous times.  A deep, arched portico sheltered arriving guests and provided another balcony at the second story.  Commanding attention was the hefty round pavilion at the corner, surmounted by a stone parapet.  A thin two-story chimney rose above the surrounding rooftops.

Inside True carried out the Elizabethan motif with period-inspired plastered ceilings and intricately-carved woodwork.

Intricate woodwork and ceilings reflected the historical style -- photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYW5FLRBT&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&XXXFEP=1

The houses were completed in 1898 and in 1899 No. 86 Riverside Drive was purchased by William Carroll, the principal in William Carroll & Co., manufacturers of fur, wool and straw hats.  Carroll’s family consisted of his wife, Grace, daughter Elsa and son Ralph.  Ralph C. Carroll was enrolled in the private Cutler School at No. 49 East 61st Street where he was the captain of the golf team.
True's Elizabeth motif was especially evident in the portico and second floor window framing -- photo by Alice Lum

Two years later, on January 2, the house was the scene of the wedding reception of Elsa and her new husband, Henry Rowland.  The New York Times described the house as being “decorated with pink roses and foliage” and said “The young couple received in a bower of pink roses, with garlands of the same flowers overhead.”  Among the moneyed guests that afternoon were J. C. Havemeyer, Mr. and Mrs. Hugh Auchincloss and Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Barnes.

The newlyweds moved into the Riverside Drive mansion and the Social Register would list them living here with the family at least until 1914.

Following William Carroll’s death on November 2, 1910, Grace continued living at No. 86 Riverside Drive with her daughter and son-in-law until 1922.   On August 30 of that year, she sold it for $125,000 (about $1.6 million today) to “a New York merchant.”  In reporting the sale The New York Timescalled the residence “one of the most modern houses on the west side.”
photo by Alice Lum

The “New York merchant” was William H. Barnard, the Treasurer of the International Salt Company, President of the Aiken Investment Company, a director in the Avery Rock Sale Company and an officer in many others.  The Times referred to Barnard as a “pioneer and leader in the American salt industry.”

Barnard and his wife, the former Lillie Cohu, moved into the Riverside Drive mansion.  Their only child, 24-year old daughter Lilybel, who had married James W. Salisbury in 1913, lived in Bristol, Rhode Island.  Five years after moving in, following an illness of several weeks, Lillie Barnard died in the house on February 10, 1927.

By the mid 1920s apartment buildings had already crept into the area.  The Barnards were living in no. 86 (right) -- photograph from the collection of the New York Public Library
William Barnard would live alone here only a few months before Lilybel moved in.  Her unhappy marriage had come to a highly-publicized end when she obtained a Reno divorce in August 1927.  She explained her forlorn condition to the court, saying she was interested in art, literature and outdoor sports; but her husband had no such interests.  A Nevada newspaper reported “he criticized her every comment, she told the Court.”

The newspaper added “Salisbury objected to her friends, she said and when she had arranged a dinner party at their home at Bristol, R. I., in August, 1926, he demanded that she cancel it at the last minute, and when she refused, charged her with being interested in one of the invited guests, her complaint says.”

Actually, it seems quite possible that Lilybel was interested in someone other than her husband; for five months after her divorce was granted, so was the divorce of Andrew Weeks Anthony a Boston manufacturer.  A few days later, on January 19, 1928 Anthony obtained a marriage license in Boston.  The New York Times sub-headline blared “Boston Manufacturer, Divorced on Wednesday, to Wed Mrs. Lilybel B. Salisbury.  She is Reno Divorcee.”

The vaguely scandalous wedding took place in St. Paul’s Methodist Episcopal Church on West End Avenue at 86th Street at noon on January 22, 1928 with William Barnard escorting his 35-year old daughter down the aisle.  Afterward the understated reception was held in the Riverside Drive mansion.

In describing the wedding, The New York Times could not help commenting with “Both Mr. Anthony and his bride have been married previously and have been divorced.”

Years after the house was converted for institutional use some architectural details survived. -- photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYW5FLRBT&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&XXXFEP=1
On October 15, 1929 William H. Barnard died in the house at No. 86 Riverside Drive.  The Great Depression coupled with changing attitudes concerning hulking private homes meant the end of the road for many of Manhattan’s great mansions.  Blocks of properties were razed to make way for luxurious Art Deco apartment houses; while other homes were converted to apartments or commercial structures.

The house at No. 86 Riverside Drive, however, would hold on for a few more years.  It became home to Kathryn E. Henessey until 1940 when she leased it a political organization with the ungainly name of the 7th Assembly District Regular Republican Organization Club, Inc.  The mansion was used as the group’s clubhouse and headquarters until 1945.

That year it was sold to the Chinese Delegation for International Cooperation and Cultural Relations, along with the house next door at No. 85.  The Times said the group intended “to remodel the buildings for its own use.”  The Delegation moved in along with related organizations; among them the International League for the Rights of Man, the Woochefee Institute which staged exhibitions of contemporary Asian artists, and the Rochdale Institute and the Institute of International Cooperation School.  The two institutes held classes for the “training of cooperative educators and executives.”

Grace Carroll's elaborate interiors were stripped for in-ceiling lighting and modern wall sconces -- photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYW5FLRBT&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&XXXFEP=1
Only four years later, on February 10, 1949 The Timesreported that “The twenty-room residence at 86 Riverside Drive, formerly the home of Katherine E. Henessey and now owned by the Woochefee Institute of New York, has been leased to the Royal Consulate of Iraq for its quarters here.”

When the Consulate of Iraq left, the building once again filled with Asian-related organizations:  The Sino-American Amity Fund, the Free Pacific Association and the East Asian Research Institute.  Then, later, in the 1980s and ‘90s it was home to the National Catholic Press.

Today the Carroll mansion has been dissected into apartments.  The castle-like building that the AIA Guide to New York City calls a “dour and forbidding essay in rock-face granite” still demands attention at the corner of 81stStreet and Riverside Drive.

 
photo by Alice Lum