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Showing posts with label gilbert A. Schellenger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gilbert A. Schellenger. Show all posts

Saturday

The 1897 Aldrich Mansion -- No. 271 W. 72nd Street



In 1890 developer Spencer Aldrich began construction on New York City’s third skeleton-framed structure—the 12-story Columbia Building at No. 29 Broadway designed by Youngs & Cable.  Completed a year later, the massive chateau-like structure featured a rounded tower, pointed-capped dormers and a three-story roof that drew the eye upward.  Aldrich obviously was attracted to the style, which was manifested similarly in his town home five years later.
Aldrich's Columbia Building rose high above the other Broadway buildings -- photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWMYZS0A&SMLS=1&RW=1366&RH=631

Aldrich was born into wealth.  One of four children, he was the son of Herman D. and Elizabeth Aldrich.  His father was a principal in McCurdy, Aldrich & Spencer, deemed by The Insurance Times to be “the leading house in the American dry goods commission business.”  In an astonishing coincidence, Herman and his best friend and business partner Robert H. McCurdy died on the same day, from the same disorder: valvular disease of the heart. 

By the time Spencer Aldrich and his wife chose the 50-foot long building plot at the northeast corner of West 72nd Street and West End Avenue the neighborhood had already begun filling with stylish homes.  But none would outdo the Adrich mansion.

Gilbert Schellenger sat down in 1895 to design the house—a Romanesque fantasy of turrets, gables, arches and chimneys that commanded the corner.  Four stories high, it was completed in 1897 and stretched nearly three times the width of a conventional townhouse.  Schellenger used a variety of materials to create a masterwork.  A turn-of-the-century sketch shows the entrance—a deep, arched portico set on clustered pillars above a side-turned stoop—squarely centered within the West End Avenue elevation.  Nevertheless, the house took the address of No. 271 West 72nd Street.

A light-colored scar, just left of the green awning, marks the site of original entrance portico.

Aldrich was not only a major developer, but was for a time the President of the Real Estate Exchange.  He and his wife, the former Harriette Holley Dall, had five children, four of which were girls.  As could be expected, entertainments in the house would center around the feminine members of the household as they reached coming-out age.  And it would not be long.

In the meantime, however, the Aldrich family spent their summers at their Long Island estate near Babylon on the Great South Bay.

Two years after moving into their new mansion, it filled with the chatter of wealthy women as Harriette gave the first of debutante receptions on December 16, 1899.  This was for daughter Louise.   Her sisters would follow close behind.  Mary Austen Aldrich was feted in the house in 1902 and Helen Hudson Aldrich’s and Maude Holley Aldrich's debutante receptions were in 1905.  
 

The narrower, 72nd Street facade was no less impressive.
Six months later the house was abuzz again as plans were prepared for Louise Dall Aldrich’s marriage to William Meissner.  The ceremony took place in the Church of All Angels on June 16, 1906 with the bride’s uncle, Rev. J. Nevitt Steele, officiating.  The New-York Tribune noted that the bride’s down was “trimmed with old point d’Alencon that had been used on the gowns of three other brides in her family.”

Ushering in church that day was Spencer Wyman Aldrich, Jr.  Spencer would graduate from the University of Virginia the following year.  He would find himself ushering in the Church of All Angels once again, on October 28, 1909, as sister Helen married the impressively-named Talcott Hunt Clarke.

Brooklyn Heights had its own high society circles.  A few days prior to Helen’s marriage, on October 24, 1909, the New-York Tribune assumed “It is likely that a number of people from the Heights will cross the river on Thursday next for the wedding…of Miss Helen Hudson Aldrich and Talcott Hunt Clarke of Buffalo.”  Following the ceremony Brooklynites and New Yorkers alike filed into the 72nd Street mansion for what The Sun called “a large reception.”

Schellenger's complex upper floor included both brick and copper-clad dormers pointing in different directions; unique chimneys and decorative cresting.

In 1911 the family apparently traveled, for the house was leased at $7,000 for the year—about $170,000 today.  In January that year the mansion would be the scene of a terrifying incident.  On January 20 The New York Times reported “In the morning crowd traveling down town from the Bronx in a subway express yesterday there was a young negro, who resented the jostling to which all the straphangers were subjected.  He finally drew a knife, and before he fought his way to the open [doors] at Seventy-second street, had slashed two of his fellow passengers, a girl and a man.”

The incident started when the swaying car caused one, then another, of the passengers to bump against Vernon Graham who was standing by the subway car’s doors.  When Mary McAuley, a stenographer, was thrown against him, he made a remark that, according to The Times, “was so offensive,” that another passenger Daniel McGowan, “ordered him to hold his tongue.”

When the train stopped at the 96th Street station, Mary McAuley needed to get off in order to transfer to the local.  But to do so she had to pass Graham.  She saw him pull a knife.

“Look out!” He has a knife in his hand,” she cried to McGowen.  It infuriated the already upset Graham who, according to the girl, tried to strike her with the knife.  When she dodged the blow, he struck again.  “She staggered a little and then fainted, her body falling through the doorway to the station platform,” saidThe Times.

Daniel McGowan leaped to the platform behind the attacker and attempted to wrestle him to submission.  He was met with stabs to the neck and hands.  Vernon Graham had a good lead on the infuriated pack that chased him from the subway; and although badly injured, McGowan led the crowd.

When the fugitive reached the corner of West 72ndStreet and West End Avenue, he saw the grill-work door to the basement of the Aldrich mansion opened and ducked in.  When McGowan and Policeman Murphy who had joined in the chase arrived, they found “a frightened servant, who had retreated to the corner of the kitchen.”  The servant pointed to a locked pantry door.  “They broke it down and found their quarry, back to the wall and still showing fight,” said the newspaper.  “Murphy closed upon him and the chase was over.”


Things returned to normal at No. 271 West 72ndStreet.  That year Spencer Wyman Aldrich, Jr. became engaged to Imogen Gaither.  The following year, with nearly all of their children married and gone, the Aldriches moved to No. 29 West 50th Street.

The 72nd Street mansion briefly was home to J. Clark Read, administrator of Camp Champlain, a summer camp for boys, and secretary of the Berkley School.  But by 1916 the William Carleton Shanley family lived here.

Shanley and his wife, the former Mary Ledwith, had three children; William Carleton Bayley Shanley, Jr., Bernard and Grace.  A tragic accident occurred for the family on December 12, 1916 when the Shanley limousine, driven by chauffeur Edward Simpson, struck and knocked down Mrs. Charlotte Ryan on West 32ndStreet.

Mrs. Ryan initially brushed off the accident, saying she was not injured and had no time to go to the hospital because she was Christmas shopping.  Finally she was convinced to go to the French Hospital.  “There it was learned that she had been injured internally.  She died soon after she got there,” reported The Sun the following day.

In the Shanley’s household staff in 1919 was James C. Boyd.  At the time the homes of Manhattan’s wealthiest citizens had been plagued by a thief who counted among his victims Harold S. Vanderbilt and Mrs O. H. P. Belmont.  Before Boyd left the Shanley’s employ in January, they too had been robbed.

On April 7, 1920 police nabbed James Boyd.   He gained entrance into the mansions by obtaining a job—he was Mrs. Belmont’s butler—then leaving after a few months.  When he was arrested he admitted to having taken $160 worth of Mrs. Shanley’s jewelry.

At the time of the robbery William Junior was serving in the United States Army as a Second Lieutenant.  During the war he had been deployed overseas.  He had graduated from Princeton in 1916, just prior to the U.S. entrance into the war; and would later graduate from Columbia Law School.

While he was fighting abroad, Mollie Kelly, daughter of the wealthy sugar mogul Hugh Kelly, helped the war efforts by working in the canteen division of the Mayor’s Committee of Women on National Defense.  In 1922 William had rejoined the civilian sector and was practicing law.  On November 24 that year he and Mollie Kelly announced their engagement.  The Evening Worldheadline announced “Betrothal Announced of Popular Girl Here to Wm. C. Shanley Jr.”

The Evening World called Mollie "A Popular Girl" November 25, 1922 (copyright expired)
The last of debutante entertainments in the 72ndStreet mansion occurred on December 17, 1927.  The all-female reception for Helen Lois Shanley was followed by a theater party to which eligible young men were invited.

The years following the Great Depression were not kind to the Aldrich mansion.  In 1951 the big old house was considered neither historic nor architecturally important.  It was considered a big old house.

That year alterations were completed which resulted in stores at ground level, a doctor’s office and stores on the floor above, and four apartments on the upper stories.  The imposing entrance stoop on West End Avenue was chopped off and the rough-cut stone façade was broken through for retail space.

In the first decade of the 21st century the old mansion got a bit of a facelift when Architecture Restoration Conservation oversaw a restoration of sorts.  The corner turret was rebuilt, a new slate roof was installed and the stone and brickwork were cleaned and repointed.

The completed project, which highlights the remains of Shellenger’s wonderful design, makes the vandalism to the lower floors seem even more barbaric.  Fortunately, however, New Yorkers need only look up to savor a glimpse of what was.

photographs taken by the author

The 1895 Renaissance Revival Nos. 60-62 Lispenard Street

photo by Alice Lum
In the early 18th century when city alderman Anthony Rutgers purchased the large section of land north of the city, much of which we now know as Tribeca, the area was mostly unusable marshland.   Shortly after receiving a grant on the land in 1730 he began draining the swampy meadow.

Leonard Lispenard purchased the land in 1746, incorporating it into the Lispenard Farm.  It then became part of Lispenard’s tremendous holdings that stretched to the Hudson River, called Lispenard Meadows.   As the city inched northward and streets were laid out, the Lispenard name became attached to some of them:  Leonard’s children, Leonard and Anthony both gave their names to streets; and the small road running parallel to Canal Street to the south was given the name Lispenard Street.

In the first quarter of the century Lispenard Street was lined with modest brick homes, most of which would last only a few decades.    By the time of the Civil War commercial buildings were replacing them as Canal Street and Broadway became important business thoroughfares.    As the century drew to a close, two small houses—each two stories tall—still held on at Nos. 60 and 62 Lispenard Street.  They had been converted to serve as John H. Ireland’s Star Hotel—a somewhat seedy establishment with often-questionable goings on.

On June 12, 1894 the New York Building & Improvement Company purchased the buildings and began plans for an impressive new office and loft building.  Gilbert A. Schellenger received the commission, although his was commonly thought of as a residential architect.  In No. 60-62 Lispenard he would prove that he was up to the task of major commercial buildings as well.

The architect produced a seven-story Italian Renaissance beauty.    Rusticated stone piers at street level were separated by decorative and utilitarian cast iron store fronts.  Above the stone second story, the building rises in buff-colored brick with elaborate carved stone panels delineating the fourth through sixth floors.  The arched openings of the top two floors—four at the sixth balanced by eight at the seventh—complete the design that would be more expected on an avenue than a tiny side street.
photo by Alice Lum
Construction was completed in 1895 and a variety of tenants filed in.  Among them was the John W. Doubleday manufacturing firm.  Working with him were his sons Charles Albert and John M.   

The often repeated Tribeca legend is that former mayor and entrepreneur William Russell Grace ran his business from the building; but Grace had purchased the former Cotton Exchange building at 1 Hanover Square in 1885 and remained there until his death in 1904.

Classical motifs such as urns and cornucopias decorate the panels -- photo by Alice Lum
Firms that certainly were here, however included the factory of C. H. S. Jaffray (who was fined in 1904 by building inspectors for neglecting to light the halls and stairways leading to the workrooms), and P. W. Lambert &amp, Co., that manufactured “fancy leather goods.”  By 1906 the firm was so successful that it moved to the building next door, eventually taking over the entire building and leasing additional factory space again in No. 60-62.

With the millinery and apparel districts nearby on Broadway, the building naturally attracted manufacturers in these or related trades.   In 1910 Schulman & Shapiro was doing business here when the company was charged with employing children under 14 years of age.  The same year America’s Textile Reporter noted the consolidation of two large “balers, folders, and packers of dry goods.”  Upon the death of Col. William H. Hubbel, whose loft was in the building, the Duane Street firm of Hinman & Taylor purchased the business.  “They now have a plant second to none as far as equipment is concerned,” said the Reporter, “and are in a position to double and roll goods by machinery in a manner equal to the best work turned out by the mills, and at low prices.”



photo by Alice Lum
The Dominican Leather & Shoe Manufacturing Company was here along with Joseph Weinstein & Co. in the first decades of the century.  As the age of the automobile arrived, several of the textile and apparel companies turned their attention to the new opportunities—like automobile covers and lap robes.  Among them was the B. E. Mfg. Company which was here in 1913.

Although the building continued to attract mainly apparel and textile firms, there were others as well, like the Boxner Medicine Company.  In 1918 Boxner’s “medicinal preparations” were made for both domestic and foreign trade.

Another tenant, Fisher Stevens Service, liked the building so much that they bought it.  On September 24, 1920 The New York Tribune reported on the sale by owner Hyman Benowitz.   Two years later Leiman Brothers would be renting in the building, making “pumps for automatic feeders, folders and labelers.”
photo by Alice Lum
The dignified building hiding on little Lispenard Street continued to be home to apparel manufacturers throughout the decades.  Federal Sportswear, for instance, was here during the Depression years. 

But with the rediscovery of Tribeca at the turn of the new century, things changed in the Canal Street neighborhood.   In July 2005 No. 60-62 Lispenard Street was converted to nine upscale condominium residences.  Inexplicably called “The Wanamaker” (perhaps as a nod to the great department store that stood several blocks north on Broadway), its apartments retain the exposed 19th century cast iron columns and high ceilings.  The huge spaces – running from 2,500 square feet to 3,700 square feet—were brought into the 21st century with fireplaces, central heating and air conditioning and recessed lighting.

But the exterior of Gilbert Schellenger’s handsome and hidden Renaissance-inspired building remains nearly unchanged after nearly a century and a quarter of use.