The 1902 McLean House -- No. 7 East 75th Street

photo by Alice Lum

At the turn of the last century the real estate firm William Hall’s Sons focused on erecting high-end homes in the city’s most fashionable neighborhoods.  In 1901 construction began on two five-story mansions at Nos. 5 and 7 East 75^th Street, steps, just steps from Fifth Avenue and Central Park.

The developers had commissioned the architectural firm of Welch, Smith & Provot to design the houses.  Completed a year later the houses gracefully complimented one another; each mimicking the general design of its neighbor, yet flexing their own architectural identities.

The two houses (No. 7 is to the right) were designed as a pair -- 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=24UAYWR8TIAQ&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

Like its sister, No. 7 was a French Beaux Arts town house worthy of Paris.  Clad in limestone it featured two stone balconies with heavy carved balustrades and oversized, stylized acorn finials.   The steep, copper mansard was punctured by elegant dormers with arched, carved pediments.  Inside were 26 rooms and ten baths.

Two years after construction was completed, the house was purchased by James McLean.   How long McLean, who was Vice President of Phelps, Dodge & Co., lived in the house is unclear; but in 1915 he was leasing it to Stephen Guion Williams.   Williams was a lawyer and partner in the Williams and Guion Black Star Line.  He had the distinction of having earned the first Ph.D. from Columbia University in political science in 1883.

A tall, heavy iron fence provided elegance and security -- photo by Alice Lum

Also in the house were Williams’ wife, the former Charlotte Grosvenor Wyeth, and her four daughters from a previous marriage.   Following Frances Hawthorne Wyeth’s wedding to E. Kenneth Hadden in the nearby St. James’s Church on Madison Avenue and 71^stStreet (which was filled with “a large and fashionable assemblage,” according to newspapers), a reception was held in the mansion.

The New York Times reported that the newlyweds received in the drawing room “against a background of white lilies and roses and under a canopy of white and yellow Spring flowers.”  It mentioned, too, that following their honeymoon of “several weeks” in the South, the couple would be living just a block away, at No. 7 East 76^thStreet.

In December 1916 James McLean announced that “negotiations are pending” for the sale of the house and told reporters that the unnamed buyer intended it to be a Christmas present.   At the time the building was assessed at $170,000—about $2.5 million today.

Before long the name of the person giving the extravagant Christmas gift became known.  The wealthy Dr. James Henry Lancashire and his family had been living at No. 1015 Fifth Avenue.  Daughter Helen had recently married Umberto M. Coletti, the Managing Director of the Italian Immigration Society and moved to Rome.   The couple’s only son, Ammi Wright Lancashire was in Europe at the time, accompanying war correspondence E. Alexander Powell on a tour of England and France; leaving only the Lancashire’s youngest daughter, Lila, in their new house with them.

The 29-year old Ammi had studied at the prestigious Phillips Academy in Andover, and then graduated from the Sheffield Scientific School in 1911.  Now, already in Europe, he was commissioned as Ensign on July 5, 1917, the day before the United States entered the conflict.  The Navy sent the privileged young man back to New York, assigned to desk duty in the Cable Censor Department.   

The handsome 31-year old Navy man fell victim to the Spanish influenza -- photograph "Phillips Academy, Ancover in the Great War" 1919, (copyright expired)

Later Claude Moore Fuess, writing in “Phillips Academy, Andover, in the Great War,” said “Desk work, however, was not what he desired; in the spring of 1918 he applied for sea duty, and was transferred to the U.S.S. ‘Kansas.’”  Ammi Lancaster left his parents’ home on East 75^th Street, never to return.

1918 was a dark year; not only because of the war, but because of the Spanish influenza pandemic that was taking hold.   Within a year more people would die from the flu than in the war—a death toll estimated at between 20 and 40 million people.  In that single year more people died of influenza than had succumbed in the four-year period of the Black Death Bubonic Plague during the Middle Ages.

While Lancashire’s ship was still in the Philadelphia Navy Yard, he contracted influenza.  His condition worsened into pneumonia.   He died on September 27, 1918 in the Philadelphia Naval Hospital.

Following their period of mourning the doctor and his wife continued their social lives.  They summered in Manchester-by-the-Sea where they maintained an estate, Graftonwood.  Sarah Hale Wright Lancashire was a member of the Dante League of America—a group whose purpose was “to promote the study and knowledge of Dante and to prepare for a suitable celebration of the 600^th anniversary of his death in 1921.”

Mrs. James Henry Lancashire -- Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

Even after that anniversary the League was going strong.  On the evening of February 26, 1922 at 8:30 Sara hosted “an authors’ reading by members of the Dante League of America.”    That summer daughter Helen and her husband spent the summer in Manchester with her parents; then the two couples sailed on the Majestic to Italy in October.

Offensive air conditioning units pierce the fanlights over the French doors.  The bulbous rustication of the first floor transforms into planar treatment on the upper floors. -- photo by Alice Lum

By 1933 the Lancashires were leasing the 75^thStreet mansion to Frederick N. Watriss.  Society’s focus was not so much on Watriss and his wife, the former Brenda Frazier, but on his step-daughter Brenda Diana Duff Frazier, known most often as Diana.

Diana’s parents had divorced.  Her father, Frank Duff Frazier, died on June 21, 1923 and his will directed that she was “not to receive more than $1,800 while under her mother’s care and influence,” as reported in The New York Times.

By the time Diana reached 14 years of age, however, her necessary expenses were higher than that amount—at least by her mother’s estimations.   So in 1934 Brenda Watriss went to court to plead for additional funds from Frazier’s estate.

“In her petition to the court Mrs. Watriss said Brenda was being brought up in the style of living adopted by her father during his life time, that he had maintained homes at Palm Beach and other places and that his living expenses amounted to $150,000,” reported The Times.  “Mrs. Watriss said the child had an income of more than $100,000 a year from the estate of her father and her paternal grandmother, Clara Duff Frazier.

“She pointed out that the child traveled frequently abroad and required a governess or companion.   She said the girl lived with her at the home of her husband, Frederick Watriss, and his two sons.”   Because the boys were most often away at school, Brenda felt that Diana should be regarded as one of the four principal persons occupying the house “and that she be charged with one-fourth of the household expenses which amounted to $45,186.”

Diana’s mother projected the teenager’s personal expenses for the year ending June 21, 1935.  On the list were “clothing, $3,600; music, $600, school, $1,500; skating and dancing lessons, $100; doctors, medical supplies, $1,500; governess, $1,500; dentists, $2,400; secretarial and clerical services, insurance, attorneys’ fees and miscellaneous extras, $1,500; club dues, $400; charitable contributions, $250; gratuities, $200; Christmas gifts, $250; amusements, parties, etc., $1,200; travel and Summer vacation, $3,500; books, toys and school supplies, $600; and pocket money, $104.”

Also included in the tally of items the girl was expected to pay for were “Servants, including chauffeurs and extra help for parties, $10,180; maintenance of automobiles, $4,500; interest on mortgage, $6,600; taxes, $5,000; insurance, $500; gas and electricity $700” and a nearly-endless list that included elevator inspection.

In the end Surrogate James A. Foley granted her mother, as guardian, $30,000 a year for the Diana’s “maintenance and support.”  The sum would amount to about half a million dollars today.

In 1938 Brenda introduced her daughter to society in a debutante party in the Ritz-Carlton Hotel with more than 1,000 guests attending.  The astonishingly-beautiful girl was a favorite of society and the press alike.   When she appeared at a social function wearing a strapless evening gown, the reaction was not shock but emulation.  She sparked a new fashion trend that swept the nation.

The Lancashires owned the mansion until 1938.  On October 1, 1940 The New York Timesreported that “A client of the Apartment Renting Company, Inc.” had leased the house from the Bank for Savings.  Before long the grand home would be converted to apartments.  In 1945 the Department of Buildings noted that there were four apartments each on most floors.

photo by Alice Lum

Despite the conversion the mansion is little changed on the outside--an elegant page from a polite period of debutante balls and dinner parties.

The 1900 Alfred G. Jennings House -- No. 2 East 82nd Street

photo by Alice Lum

At the turn of the last century encroaching commerce pushed New York's millionaires northward up Fifth Avenue along Central Park.  Brothers William and Thomas Hall took full advantage of the lucrative opportunity.  Both contractors and developers, they bought up long swathes of real estate and built speculative high-end residences.

A generation earlier such developments would have appeared as long rows of identical or nearly-identical brownstone rowhouses.  The Halls were savvy enough to recognize that by now residents in this exclusive neighborhood wanted individuality in their homes.  They often worked with architect Alexander M. Welch of the firm Welch, Smith & Provot to achieve both harmony and individuality in their rows of mansions.

In 1898 construction was begun on adjoining mansions on Fifth Avenue between 81^st and 82^nd Streets, Nos. 1007, 1008 and 1009; as well as No. 2 East 82^nd Street around the corner.   No. 2 East 82^nd Street was completed in 1900 and, despite its ample size and commanding architecture, it was diminished by the sprawling No. 1009 FifthAvenue next door.

Welch simultaneously designed the three houses at Nos. 1007 through 1009 Fifth Avenue.  The corner mansion, No. 1009, would become home to Benjamin Duke. photo NYPL Collection 

Welch used matching materials—red brick and white limestone—to complement the two residences.  The rusticated bases were in near perfect alignment, the cornice of No. 1009 flowed smoothly into the fifth floor balcony of No. 2, and the iron railings of that balcony visually coursed into the stone balustrade next door.  The handsome and dignified No. 2 East 82nd Street with its tall iron fence held its own beside its massive big brother next door.

Four years before construction began on the homes, wealthy Brooklynite Albert Gould Jennings was married to the daughter of wealthier John D. Crimmins.  Suzanne Beatrix Crimmins, 22 years old, was described by The New York Times as “a handsome blonde.”  Susie, as she was known, had grown up amid luxury in a mansion at No. 40 East 68^th Street. The 25-year old groom was the son of the founder of the Jennings Lace Works and had graduated from Princeton in 1890.  The New York Times noted that “He is the owner of a handsome brownstone residence 313 Clinton Avenue, Brooklyn.”

The wedding was held in the Crimmins country home, Collender’s Point, in Darien, Connecticut.  The ceremony was officiated by Archbishop Corrigan, assisted by Bishop Tierney of Harford, Father Rogers of Stamford, “and a number of priests from that diocese,” said The Times.  “The ceremony closed with the Papal benediction.”

The seeming overkill of priests may have been John Crimmins’ way of making a statement.  The fervently Roman Catholic Crimmins was allowing his daughter to marry a Presbyterian.  The Times said “in order to have the ceremony performed under the rites of the Catholic Church [Jennings] had to promise that his wife should have the full freedom of practicing her religious faith, and to allow his children to be reared in the Roman Catholic faith.”

Although Jennings’ business was in Brooklyn, life in the outer borough apparently did not appeal to his new wife.  The couple purchased No. 2 East 82^nd Street while the mansion was still under construction.  It was completed in 1900 and entertainments—often involving Crimmins family members—began.

The American Architect printed a photograph of the Jennings House in 1903.  A servant waits on the sidewalk for a carriage and greenery is planted on the 2nd floor balcony.  The periodical got the architect's name wrong, citing Ernest Flagg.  (copyright expired)

Susie’s sister, Constance, was introduced to society In 1902.  On December 12 the Jennings hosted a dinner for her in the house.  It was followed the next day by a “coming out reception” in the Crimmins mansion.

The following year Susie threw a dinner party for her brother, John D. Crimmins, Jr., and his fiancée, Lillian Stokes Holmes, in anticipation of their upcoming wedding later in the week.   The entire wedding party was invited.

Unlike many wealthy New Yorkers who built sumptuous summer cottages and estates, the Jennings preferred to lease impressive quarters in different resorts.  With daughter Janice and son Albert Gould Jr. they summered in Tuxedo Park, Bar Harbor, Newport and Southampton.   In 1910 they arrived in Bar Harbor, having rented “Bowling Green” for the season.

Despite appearances, not all was happy within No. 2 East 82^ndStreet.  Susie Crimmins Jennings was a modern woman, independent and opinionated.  Albert Gould Jennings had more old-fashioned ideas concerning a woman’s place in the home.  It all boiled over in July 1912.

As the summer season approached, Albert packed his bags and sailed to Paris.  He would not returned to New York a married man.  The New York Times reported that “He accused his wife of accepting invitations without consulting him and altogether showing a too independent spirit.”

Susie Jennings filed a counter-charge of incompatibility.   It would appear that John D. Crimmins used his substantial influence for, somewhat surprisingly considering the couple had two children, the marriage was annulled on October 22, 1913.

Apparently as part of the arrangement, four months earlier Suzanne Jennings sold the house on East 82^nd Street to the "recently formed" Roxanne Realty Company.   The new company was owned by Albert Gould Jennings.

Alfred returned to the house on East 82^nd Street and before very long married Marion Stoddard.  The marriage was, at least from a religious point of view, more compatible.  Marion was the daughter of the Rev. Dr. Charles Augustus Stoddard, an author and distinguished Presbyterian clergyman.

In 1917 a son was born in the house, Wyllys Burr Jennings.  In the meantime, the infant’s step-brother, Albert Junior, served in the United States Navy during the war.  Upon returning he moved back into the 82^ndStreet house with his father and stepmother.  Albert graduated from Princeton in 1919 and the athletic young man gained memberships to the Brook and Turf and Field, Racquet and Tennis Clubs.

Marion took the reins of social entertainments.  One again the house was the scene of receptions, teas and dinner parties.  On April 22, 1920 she gave a luncheon for Elizabeth Coleman who had recently become engaged to Marion’s relative Stoddard Hoffman.

Marion Jennings was a large stockholder in the Silver King Ginger Ale Company, presided over by State Senator James J. Walker.  Most likely through her influence, young Albert was made Secretary of the company.  A few years later Albert Junior struck out on his own, taking an apartment for himself at No. 146 East 49^th Street.

No one on New York society was more shocked than Albert and Marion Jennings to learn in the spring of 1925 that Albert Gould Jennings, Jr., had been surreptitiously  married.  “The secret marriage last Fall of Albert Gould Jennings Jr…a member of a family socially prominent in this city, to Mrs. Helen B. Rueping, a wealthy divorcee, was reported yesterday and it was said that the couple were planning to go abroad,” reported The Times on March 8, 1925.

“Mr. Jennings Sr. and Mrs. Jennings, stepmother of the young man, said last night they knew nothing of the marriage.”

Young Albert provided more gossip to New York drawing rooms when the marriage fell apart.  A Special Cable to The New York Times arrived from Paris on June 27, 1929.  It read in part “Mrs. Albert Gould Jennings…filed today a petition for divorce in Paris from her husband, who is a wealthy New York resident and is prominent in the American colony here.” 

By the spring of 1937 Alfred Gould Jennings, Sr. was apparently leasing the mansion.  Broker John F. Bowles, Jr. was living in the house when, on April 8, he married Jeannette Horlick Simmons in the chapel of Riverside Church.  Both wealthy in their own right, The New York Times announced that “After their wedding trip, the couple will divide their time between this city and Greenwich.”

The following year Albert Gould Jennings sold the house that had been his home for nearly four decades.  The unnamed buyers paid the $95,000 asking price in cash.  In reporting the sale The Times noted that the house “contains an elevator, and at the rear looks out upon a permanent garden on Eighty-first Street.”  The article mentioned the elite neighbors.  “Near by are the homes of Orlando F. Weber, Ogden H. Hammond and Angelica T. Gerry.  Recently Garardo Machado, former President of Cuba, purchased a private house across the street.”

Within three years the house would be converted to furnished apartments.

The Alfred and Marion Jennings were now living at No. 4 East 95^th Street and their son, Wyllys Burr Jennings became an Army pilot when the war in Europe broke out.  On August 26, 1944 the 27-year old navigator was shot down over Ludwigshafen, Germany.

In the late 1970s an apartment building was constructed at No. 1001 Fifth Avenue, extending down 81^st Street where the Jennings gardens had once been.  It created a problem with zoning restrictions.  On April 29, 1979 The Times reported that “In March, workmen began blocking up rear windows and the doors in two floors of vacant apartments in the converted townhouse at 2 East 82^nd Street.  This was in accordance with a requirement to bring the five-story building within the maximum allowable floor area for the site, which it shares with the recently constructed apartment house at 1001 Fifth Avenue.”

The windows of the upper floors of the mansion were sealed off with unsightly cinder blocks.  After several meetings between the construction company, the Buildings Department and the Planning Commission, an agreement was made whereby the blocks would be removed and curtains hung to block the windows.   It was a decidedly more attractive solution.

In 1982 the house was home to actress Meryl Streep’s character Brooke Reynolds in the psychological thriller film Still of the Night.   In the motion picture, Dr. Sam Rice, played by Roy Scheider, visited the house to discern if he could trust the mysterious woman.

Around half a century earlier Mother Joseph Butler of the Order of the Sacred Heart of Mary purchased the Jonathon Thorne mansion nearby at No. 1028 Fifth Avenue to be used as a “select school for girls in connection with Marymount College at Tarrytown-on-Hudson.”  In 1936 the school expanded by acquiring the mansion next door at No. 1027, and 14 years later purchased the adjoining house at No. 1026.

Now, in 1999, the Marymount School eyed the former Jennings house at No. 2 East 82^nd Street for use as its Middle School.  The school was especially taken with the intact interiors of the house, which complemented the Fifth Avenue mansions it already owned. The problem was that developer Peter S. Kalikow had already purchased the mansion with intentions of converting it into a garage for the new apartment building at No. 1001 Fifth Avenue.

After six months of negotiations, the school purchased the property for $9.5 million.  A $7 million renovation was initiated with careful attention to the preservation of the intact interior detailing—ornamental plasterwork, mantels and wood paneling.

The renovations were completed in 2003, earning Richard Ciccarelli, independent architecture and planning professional the Lucy G. Moses Award for NYC Landmarks Preservation.  The private school continues to operate in the building.

The 1898 James A. Burden Carriage House -- No. 75 E. 77th Street

On May 21, 1897 The New York Times reported on the sale of six building lots stretching westward from the northwest corner of Park Avenue and 77^th Street.  Henry Hilton had sold the property to brothers William W. and Thomas M. Hall.  As the Upper East Side rapidly developed, the two speculators were among the busiest—responsible for dozens of structures in the neighborhood.

The Halls purchased the real estate on the north side of East 77^th Street for a purely pragmatic project.  As Manhattan’s millionaires threw up grandiose mansions along Fifth Avenue they would require private stables.  A wealthy bank or lawyer would own several expensive vehicles, six or more horses, and a small staff of grooms or coachmen.  The location—two blocks from the avenue—was perfect:  close enough for a quick response when a carriage was called for; yet far enough away that the noises and odors could not waft into refined sitting rooms.

The brothers put their architect of choice, Alexander M. Welch of Welch, Smith & Provot, to work on the string of upscale stables.  Their long-standing collaborations would produce a variety of structures more glamorous than homes for horses.  Two years later, for instance, they would team up to produce the lavish mansion purchased by Benjamin Duke at No. 1009 Fifth Avenue.

Private carriage houses reflected the wealth and status of their owners.  Welch, therefore, treated each structure differently while maintaining a harmonious architectural flow.  Each one three stories tall, they shared the same overall layout and proportions.  And each one boasted the extra architectural attention necessary to attract moneyed buyers.

Centered along the row, completed in 1898, was No. 75.  Welch treated the red Roman brick almost as modeling clay.  The long, thin bricks were laid with precise craftsmanship and many were customized for their place in the structure.  Bullnose bricks formed rounded edges to the openings and long bricks that tapered to a wedge-shape created the first floor arches.

The Romanesque Revival façade was relieved with limestone trim—three carved eyebrows above the arches connected by foliate ornaments, bandcourses, plain pilasters between the paired windows above, and two exquisitely carved discs set into the brick.

Inside, the stalls and cabinetry were fashioned of oak.  Six horses could be housed in the rear while the vehicles would be stored closer to the front.  Perhaps because of the unpleasant but necessary manure pit in the back lot, upstairs quarters for the coachmen and their families faced the street.  The rear of the second floor contained a hayloft.

The carriage house was especially convenient for James Abercrombie Burden, Jr. who lived at No. 2 East 77^th Street, just off Fifth Avenue.  Burden had married Florence Adele Sloane three years earlier in Lenox, Massachusetts.  Florence was the great-granddaughter of Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt and daughter of the fabulously wealthy William D. Sloane.  Burden’s family’s fortune was made in the iron works founded by his grandfather in Troy, New York.  At the time of the wedding, the young groom had an annual income of more than $1 million.

James A. Burden purchased No. 75 upon its completion.  The convenience of its location would be short lived, however.  Apart from the $700,000 worth of gifts the Burdens had received on their wedding day was the promise of a new home from Florence’s father, William D. Sloane.  In 1901 he commissioned architects Warren & Wetmore to produce a magnificent residence further up Fifth Avenue at No. 7 East 91^st Street.

The mansion was completed in 1905 and the Burdens moved north from East 77^th Street.  Nevertheless they retained the carriage house for several more years; possibly leasing it to another well-heeled family.

In 1907 the family using the stable cut back on staff expenses as they planned an extended European trip.  Living upstairs at No. 77 East 75^th Street were at least two employees; one with his family.  In April that year one coachman got his walking papers.  He placed an advertisement in the New-York Tribune on April 21 looking for employment.  “Coachman—First class recommendations; married, one child; will be disengaged May 1, present employer going abroad.”

Two months later a groom received notice.  On June 25, 1907 he too placed an ad in the New-York Tribune.  “Thoroughly competent in the care of fine horses and carriages; highest written and personal recommendations; will be found willing and obliging.”

Finally on December 31, 1909 The New York Times announced that the Burden “family private stable” had been sold.  By now automobiles were nudging out horse-drawn vehicles as the preferred mode of transportation and throughout the city carriage houses were being converted to garages.  The high-tone neighborhood in which the Burden stable sat no doubt prevented its being reduced to a commercial garage.  As the decades wore on, most of the surviving Upper East Side carriages with their handsome facades were converted, instead, to private dwellings.

And so it would be for No. 75.  In 1930 Robert Nagel leased the building and converted it to a one-family home with private 5-car garage at street level.  The residence was updated in 1971 when a partial fourth floor was constructed at the front of the building and an open air atrium was constructed inside.

The facade is a masterpiece of brickwork.  A set of shallow stone steps creates the illusion that this was meant as a home for people--not for horses.

Another ambitious renovation occurred in 2005 which, like the former changes, carefully left Welch’s striking façade with its wonderful brickwork intact.  Other than the regrettable barracks-like rooftop addition of 1971 the James Burden carriage house survives charmingly unspoiled.

photographs by the author

The 1899 Francis Stetson House - No. 4 E. 74th Street

photo by Alice Lum

In the final years of the 19^th century, brothers William A. and Thomas M. Hall busied themselves with speculative development in the Fifth Avenue neighborhood along Central Park.   William was Director of the Publishers’ Paper Co., but his income was greatly increased by the construction and sale of luxurious mansions for the city’s wealthiest citizens.

In 1898 they commissioned architect Alexander Welch of Welch, Smith and Provot to design a magnificent residence at No. 4 East 74^thStreet.  Welch would be responsible for several mansions built by the Hall brothers, and this one would be among his finest.

Completed a year later, it was imposing.  A rusticated limestone base was dominated by a bowed portico supported by garland-swagged columns.   A carved stone balcony above the entrance introduced the two-story bay with small-paned windows.  Limestone quoins along the side of the structure and the bay contrasted with the warm red brick.  To preserve the proportions, the sixth floor was set back so as to be nearly invisible from the street.

Behind the overhanging cornice hides the sixth floor -- photo by Alice Lum

The newly-completed mansion was purchased by Francis Lynde Stetson and his wife, the former Elizabeth Ruff.  Stetson was a highly-regarded and successful corporate attorney, the head of the firm Stetson, Jennings & Russell, and who had formerly been the law partner of Grover Cleveland.

Francis Lynde Stetson -- photo Library of Congress 

Stetson was involved in important causes of the period.  He was a member of the American Forestry Association, founded in 1875 to promote conservation of existing forests—an amazingly early example of environmental awareness.  He was also a member of the National Association for the Study and Prevention of Tuberculosis at a time when the disease devastated crowded urban areas like New York.

Elizabeth Stetson’s health began to decline around 1914 and she took on 19-year old Margery H. Lee as her secretary.  As her condition worsened, the young woman moved into the Stetson mansion in 1916.  What followed would raise the eyebrows of wealthy socialites throughout the city.

A chubby face is worked into the carved cartouche above the fourth floor windows -- photo by Alice Lum

Elizabeth Ruff Stetson died in the house on April 16, 1917.   Less than five months later, on September 6,  Stetson, now 71 years old, adopted the 22-year old woman as his daughter and heir to his fortune.  He explained to a reporter fromThe Sun in a telephone interview that “My wife was very fond of Miss Lee.”  He also noted that she “shall continue to bear her own name and to be known thereby.”

If the arrangement was unexpected by New York society, it was also unexpected by her father.  The Sun reported that “Miss Lee’s father, when seen at his Germantown home, expressed surprise at his daughter’s adoption.”

In December 1918 Stetson fell ill.  He was confined to the house on 74^thStreet until, finally, on March 8 seemed to improve.  The New York Times reported that “He is able to sit up and spends much time every day in his library.”

The newspaper’s assessment of his condition, however, was optimistic.   On February 5, 1920 the New-York Tribune reported that he was “confined to his residence at 4 East Seventy-fourth Street, suffering from thrombosis, involving a partial paralysis.”  The newspaper could not resist mentioning that Miss Margery H. Lee was his heir.

On December 5, 1920 the aged attorney died.  The gossip and speculation that Margery Lee would be the sole heiress to the Stetson estate were proved untrue when the lawyer’s will was probated.   Williams College received over $1 million of his $3 million estate.  The institution received the bequeath on the condition that it would “keep in good order of the Williams College cemetery and the grounds and monument of my beloved wife and myself.”   A long list of charities and organizations received bequests including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the New York Botanical Society, the Bar Association, the Lying-in Hospital and the Young Men’s Christian Association.

As for Margery Lee, she could not complain.  She received a trust fund of $300,000—equal to about $3 million today.

photo by Alice Lum

The house at No. 4 East 74^th Street, assessed at $140,000, also went to Williams College.  The following year the mansion was purchased by Edward L. Ballard, the Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Merchants Fire Assurance Corporation of New York.  The Ballards had one daughter, Elizabeth, and in December 1927 she was introduced to society.  Along with the entertainments in the mansion, her mother gave a luncheon in the Florentine Room of the Park Lane for Elizabeth.  The guest list included not only the girls of wealthy New York families, but some from Philadelphia and Boston.

The Ballards maintained a summer estate, Graeloe, in Ridgefield, Connecticut.  There on September 3, 1936 the beautiful Elizabeth G. Ballard married James M. Doubleday, the Vice President of the First National Bank of Ridgefield.  The New York Times noted that “After their wedding trip Mr. Doubleday and his bride will make their home in New York.”

That home would be No. 4 East 74^th Street.

Doubleday obtained a position with the New York Trust Company and a year later, in 1937, a son was born to the couple.  That same year they purchased a 40-acre estate in Ridgefield near the Ballard home.  The joyful events of 1937 came to an end on New Year’s Eve when Edward Ballard died.  He left an estate of about $2 million.

Elizabeth sold the house in April 1940 to Mrs. Theodore Grubb.   Grand mansions in the post-Depression years were often viewed as white elephants and the new buyer would hold onto the property only long enough to convert it into apartments—one per floor.  In July 1942 investor Mary E. Crocker bought the altered home.  Interestingly, in reporting the sale The Times reported that it was built “from plans by Andrew McKenzie,” the architect responsible for the 1905 New York Times Building.

photo by Alice Lum

The house saw the arrival and departure of a variety of residents; but none was more celebrated than Russian artist Marc Chagall and his wife who arrived in 1943.   Chagall was not the hot artist in New York that he had been in Paris; although he was given a major retrospective in 1946 by the Museum of Modern Art.

Although the Chagalls lived in the most exclusive part of town, the artist was most comfortable in the Lower East Side, chatting with Jewish immigrants and reading Yiddish-language newspapers like the Forward.

The Stetson mansion was converted once again in 1948 when Dr. H. Bakst installed his office and apartment in the lower floors.  Finally in 1995 it was reconverted to a single-family home as increasingly multimillionaires discovered the prestige and luxury of returning the grand mansions to private homes.

The Lost 1901 Wm. Hall Mansion -- No. 1008 5th Avenue

Montgomery Schuyler pronounced Welch's over-the-top architecture "vulgar" -- photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The approaching tide of New York’s millionaires up Fifth Avenue was well under way when brothers William and Thomas Hall purchased the blockfront between 81^st and 82^nd Streets with the intention of erecting four speculative and spectacular mansions.  The developers commissioned Alexander Welch of Welch, Smith and Provot to design the residences

Completed in 1901, each stood on its own architecturally; but they created a harmonious whole.   The grandest, a brick and limestone beauty that stretched down 82^ndStreet, would become the home of Benjamin and Sarah Duke.  The mansion next door, at No. 1008, was purchased by William A. Hall.

Benjamin Duke would move into the house on the corner, next door to William and Sarah Hall -- photo NYPL Collection

William Hall was Director of the Publishers’ Paper Co.  He and his wife, the former Sarah Jewett Adams, had one son, Melvin.   Their robust Beaux Arts house was deemed by architectural critic Montgomery Schyler “vulgar,” but its location and neighbors firmly established the Halls’ social standing.   The deed was placed in Sarah’s name, and she filled the house with the expected French furniture, antique tapestries and expensive turn-of-the-century bric-a-brac.

Sarah Hall filled the entrance with a variety of furnishings--including a table placed oddly in front of the fireplace.  -- photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Just seven years after moving in, the Halls leased the house with all its furnishings.  The Sun, on September 15, 1908, noted that “Capt. James Pierre. Drouillard, a newcomer to the wealthy colony east of Central Park leased a handsome fireproof residence at No. 1008 Fifth avenue, contracting to pay $20,000 a year rental.”

The Drouillards leased the house with all the furnishings, including those in the dining room as pictured in 1905-- photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Captain Drouillard, who had distinguished himself in the Boxer Rebellion and Spanish-American War, could afford the rent—which amounted to about $360,000 today.  His new bride, the former Ada Sorg had inherited a hefty $10 million from her father, Ohio tobacco manufacturer and politician Paul J. Sorg.  The captain entered the steel and fiber industry when he left the army and, according to The New York Times, “is also rich.”

Their move, said The Tribune, “practically completes the severance of the family of the late Congressman Paul J. Sorg from their old home in Middletown Ohio."  Sarah’s only brother, Arthur had already made New York City his legal residence and Captain Drouillard was in the process of doing the same.

The newlyweds moved into the Fifth Avenue mansion in 1909; but the honeymoon would not last long.  A few months later storm clouds gathered.  Ada would later relate that her husband had chosen the house and signed the lease without her knowledge.  “I had nothing to say about it,” she told reporters.

Tensions between the pair came to a head in September 1910.   Later, in July 1914, Ada would tell the court that “there was a misunderstanding between us that resulted in Capt. Drouillard leaving.”  As she explained it, “We had gone to a certain affair together and came back separately.  After that my husband never stayed there over night, but we attended dinners and teas together and my husband went to the theatre with me as late as last September.  After we separated I paid the household accounts and the rent.  Before that my husband paid them.”

Ada Sorg Drouillard remained in the house along with her brother-in-law until 1912.  She moved up the avenue to No. 1014 Fifth Avenue and continued her odd relationship with her husband.  “We never knew…whether we would live together again,” she later recalled.  “It was just one of those cases where we might have made up any day and again we might not.”   She frequently consulted him regarding household and business matters and he was in charge not only of the Drouillard estate, but the Sorg estate as well.

In the meantime the Hall family was enjoying their wealth and traveling extensively.  On January 23, 1913 Sarah and her son Melvin “steered their car into its Broadway garage,” as reported in the New-York Tribune.  Parking one’s car would normally not induce press coverage; but in this case it signaled the end of a 33-country road trip—the first ever attempted by amateur drivers.

When the Halls sailed from New York on June 10, 1911 they took along their 4-cylinder phaeton motorcar.   Sarah and her son did not originally intend do a two-year global automobile tour.  “They motored through England and Wales and then through nearly every country in Europe,” said The Tribune.  “From Naples their automobile was shipped to Bombay, and they spent several weeks driving through India.  They wore out dozens of tires on the roads to Ceylon, Sumatra, Java and the Malay Peninsula.  They motored up through Cochin China and southern China to Hong Kong, then through Japan and the Philippines.”

Now that they were in the Far East, the closest port to New York was California.  “Landing in San Francisco, the motorists traveled through northern Mexico, and then came home by way of the Santa Fe trail and through Denver, St. Louis, Pittsburgh and Washington.”   Their 40,000-mile trip “wore out 117 tires and burned up 5,000 gallons of gasoline, but suffered no serious mishaps,” said the newspaper.

Now home, Sarah checked on her vacant house at No. 1008 Fifth Avenue.  And she was not pleased with her findings.

Not only did Captain Drouillard receive a divorce suit that year, he was sued by Sarah Hall for damages inflicted on the house and furnishings.  The New York Times reported that the complaint claimed “that through carelessness and inefficiency $9,000 worth of damage was done to the furnishings.  An extra $850 is demanded in order to restore the billiard room to its former condition, Capt. And Mrs. Drouillard, according to the complaint, having divided it into bedrooms.”

Ada Drouillard described Sarah Hall's antique chairs as "rotten." -- photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Because the Drouillards were now amicably divorced, Ada was sued as well.  She appeared in court on July 6, 1914 and scoffed at the allegations.  She had, she said, made a “mental inventory” upon leaving and all was in proper order.  “The only thing that was broken was a plaster bust of a lady, which was smashed by my maid a few days before we left, and the broken pieces were left there,” she said.

While Sarah listed damages and losses including holes in the rugs, stains on the upholstery, a missing tea set, artwork and a lamp; Ada vehemently accused her landlady of providing shoddy furnishings.

The holes in the entrance rug were already there, she insisted, and she hid them with jardinieres.   She described the two leather screens in the dining room as “on their last legs” and told of the rickety condition of other pieces.  “A month after she occupied the house she gave a party and in the midst of the gayeties the divan in the library broke and the guests went through to the floor.  Then Mrs. Drouillard had new springs put in, she said,” reported The Sun.

She testified that she had never seen a “brass smoking lamp, a number of ivory miniatures or a South American tea set,” reported missing.  She complained that the draperies were “just in shreds,” and she had to cover a stained leather couch with a silk rug.  A desk had lost its gilt and couldn't be used in a strong light.

“The mahogany piano was so stained it showed just plain wood.  It was out of tune and sounded tinny.  The keys were yellow, the legs were scratched and it was absolutely a disgrace.  It was even better looking when we came out than when we went in.”

Interesting electric light fixtures in the form of opaque glass seashells hang in the second floor stair hall -- photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Sarah Hall no doubt bristled in the courtroom when Ada Drouillard described a number of antique chairs as “rotten.”

After the war, William and Sarah spent less and less time in New York, preferring their Paris home.  Melvin, who graduated from Princeton in 1910 and rose to the rank of major in the army, was now employed in the American Embassy in London.  He married Josephine Johnson in Paris on November 14, 1922.   The Hall ties to New York were essentially severed.

The mansion was acquired by the Scoville School for Girls in 1927.  The exclusive school was founded in 1882 as the Classical School for Girls.  Its name change came in 1905 when it was purchased by Mrs. Helen M. Scoville.   Helen Scoville instructed her well-heeled students in “music, art, household economics.”  Girls could participate in “gymnasium, riding, outdoor exercise” and social recreation.  An annual “European travel party” introduced the girls to a lifestyle they could expect.

Only five years later, however, the house was sold at auction.  It was purchased by the National Association of Audubon Societies.   The interiors that had already been significantly altered into classrooms and sleeping rooms, were now converted to exhibition halls, a library and committee rooms, and offices.  This new arrangement, too, would be short-lived.

In 1945 The New York Times reported that the house, assessed at $135,000, was sold; to “be altered into doctor’s suites.”

By now the two houses at the southern end of the block had been demolished for a tall apartment building.   The William Hall mansion and its rich history would survive until 1979 when a modern apartment building, not especially attractive, took the place of No. 1008 and its next door neighbor.  The sole remaining survivor of the 1901 row—the Duke mansion—amazingly endures as a private residence.

The Duke mansion sits uncomfortably next to the soaring skyscraper where William Hall mansion stood -- photo by Alice Lum

The 1903 Strasburger House -- No. 5 West 73rd Street.

By the turn of the last century sections of the Upper West Side vied with the fashionable neighborhoods on the other side of Central Park.   Hulking mansions lined the avenues and high-end apartment buildings were marketed to wealthy residents.  In 1902 real estate speculating brothers Thomas M. and William W. Hall had already been busy in the area, erecting rows of upper and upper-middle class homes.

Now they called on the architectural firm of Welch, Smith & Provot to design a string of five brick residences stretching west from No. 3 to 11 West 73^rd Street.   Completed a year later the upscale brick and limestone homes could easily hold their own with their across-the-park counterparts.   Among them was No. 5, just steps from Central Park; a five-story slice of France in Manhattan.

Among the houses in the row, No. 5 stood out.

The Beaux Arts-inspired house stood out from the others in the row with its bold red brick and contrasting white stone.  Above the limestone base, a central two-story bay grabbed attention.  Limestone quoins framed the brickwork, rising upward to the copper-sheathed mansard roof with its striking Palladian-inspired dormer.

The Hall brothers quickly sold No. 5 to Louis Strasburger who was defecting from his east side residence at No. 128 East 61^stStreet for the West Side.    Now retired, the wealthy jeweler had founded the watch and diamond importing firm of Louis Strasburger & Co. in 1869 with his brother-in-law, Charles Adler.  In 1873 when the pair bought out their competitor Chas. Rubens & Co. they became the largest importing watch firm in New York.

Strasburger’s wealth had become such that in 1880 his family were the victims of a series of extortion plots.    Beginning with a letter demanding that Mrs. Strasburger leave an envelope with $60,000 at Broadway and Barclay Street “if you don’t wish to have a funeral in the house,” the threats became even more serious when daughter Rosalie was nearly abducted from school at Dr. Heubsch’s synagogue on Lexington Avenue.

The ongoing threats from German Nihilists, the intervention of detectives, and the near nervous-breakdown of Mrs. Strasburger ended on April 7, 1881 on 61^st Street between Fifth and Madison Avenues with detective and terrorist gunfire and, ultimately, dead Nihilists.

The Strausburgers now, no doubt, planned on a more sedate life on the opposite side of the Park.  Son Byron had taken over the family business, renaming it Byron L. Strausburger & Co. and little Rosa had grown up and married Solomon M. Bloch, a lace importer who conducted his business at Nos. 520-524 Broadway.

By now, however, Bloch’s 30-year old business, S. E. Bloch & Bro. was in trouble.     In September 1903 the debts of the firm had accumulated to $350,000, resulting in its being placed in receivership.  Rosa and Samuel moved into the house on West 73^rd Street with her parents.  Undeterred, Bloch founded the Nottingham Lace Works and started over.  It grew into a successful operation, with offices in New York and a factory in Nottingham, England.

After her parents’ deaths, Rosa inherited the house and the Blochs lived on here with their son, Monroe Percy.  As the country entered the world war, Monroe joined the Communication Service in 1918.

In 1923 Bryan Strausburger fell ill.  Rosa brought her brother to the house on West 73^rd Street to care for him.  But the wealthy diamond merchant, now 57 years old, died on May 13 in the house his father had purchased just two decades earlier.

After Monroe, now a lawyer, married Muriel Bamberger in 1925 Rosa and Solomon Bloch were left alone in the large home.   Following Rosalie’s death, the large house was perhaps too ungainly for Solomon, who moved into the Hotel Warick, ending the family’s tenure in the handsome residence.

In 1885, while Louis Strasburger was still in the diamond and watch business downtown, The American Society for Psychical Research was founded.  The mission of the organization was to explore “extraordinary” or “unexplained” phenomena; what today are commonly called psychic or paranormal experiences.

In 1969 the Society altered the Strasburger house to accommodate “research, offices and reading rooms.”    From its headquarters here, the group seeks to advance understanding of “the far reaching scientific and spiritual questions raised by the mysteries of consciousness.”

The striking exterior of No. 5 West 73^rd Street has been tenderly preserved (other than a rather obtrusive drain pipe that snakes down the façade).   There is no sign or placard to refute that this is not still the home of a successful diamond merchant.

photographs taken by the author