_Approaching the Plaza_
Stretches of the Avenue--Approaching the Plaza--The Great Hotels--Old
St. Luke's Hospital--"Marble Row"--Some Reminiscences of Mr. John D.
Crimmins--Men and Manners of Sixty Years Ago--Early Transportation--The
Saint Gaudens Sherman Group--The Cryptic Henry James--The Fountain of
Abundance.
One August day I sat beside
A café window open wide,
To let the shower-freshened air
Blow in across the Plaza, where,
In golden pomp against the dark
Green, leafy background of the Park,
St. Gaudens's hero, gaunt and grim,
Rides on with Victory leading him.
--_Bliss Carman, On the Plaza._
Approaching the Plaza, besides the churches, clubs, and the various
houses associated with the name of Vanderbilt, there is conspicuous the
cluster of great hotels. To sum up the nature of these hostelries
briefly, imagine an Englishman. "We now crossed their Thames over what
would have been Westminster Bridge, I fancy, and were presently bowling
through a sort of Battersea part of the city," was the way in which the
British butler in Mr. Harry Leon Wilson's "Ruggles of Red Gap" described
part of a hazy, riotous ride about Paris. Later, the same worthy, come
to our own New York, indicated the hotel of sojourn by the information
that it overlooked "what I dare say in their simplicity they call their
Hyde Park." Beneath the caricature there was a sound understanding of
the workings of the British mind. So if an Englishman contemplating a
visit seeks advice in the matter of hotels there is the obvious short
cut. Certain of the less pretentious places in the side streets and
overlooking the minor parks may be described as "the sort of thing you
find about Russell Square." The Waldorf-Astoria, the Knickerbocker, the
McAlpin, or the Astor as "like the Cecil, Savoy, or the Northumberland
Avenue Hotels." The vast, expensive edifices of public welcome in the
neighbourhood of the Plaza as "something rather on the order of
Claridge's and the Carlton."
These hotels are the St. Regis and the Gotham on opposite corners of the
Avenue at Fifty-fifth Street, the Savoy and the Netherland on the east
side of the Avenue at Fifty-ninth Street, and the huge new Plaza Hotel
facing them from across the square. When the St. Regis was first opened
popular fancy ascribed to it a scale of prices crippling to the average
purse. The idea was the subject of derisive vaudeville ditties. When a
"Seeing New York" car approached the Fifty-fifth Street corner the
guide invariably took up his megaphone and called out, "Ladies and
gentlemen! We are passing on the right the far-famed St. Regis Hotel! If
you order beefsteak it will cost you five dollars. If you call for
chicken they will look you up in Bradstreet before serving the order!"
St. Luke's Hospital, now crowning Morningside Heights, opposite the
Cathedral of St. John the Divine, was formerly on the land now occupied
by the Gotham and the adjoining University Club. A photograph in the
Collection of the Fifth Avenue Bank shows the old Hospital as it was in
1867. The point from which the picture was taken was in the middle of
Fifty-fourth Street, east of the Avenue. At the north-east corner an
iron rail fence separates the hospital grounds from the sidewalk, but
the other three corners are vacant lots. To the west, on the south side
of Fifty-fourth Street, a solitary house looms up. It is No. 4, now the
residence of John D. Rockefeller, Sr. Near the Hospital, until 1861, was
the Public Pound. The Hospital was opened May 13, 1858, with three
"Sister Nurses" and nine patients. Its cost was two hundred and
twenty-five thousand dollars. It was a red brick building, facing south,
and consisted of a central edifice with towers. The cornerstone of the
present St. Luke's was laid May 6, 1893.
"Marble Row" was the name given for years to the block on the east side
of the Avenue between Fifty-seventh and Fifty-eighth Streets. John
Mason, at one time president of the Chemical National Bank, bought the
land from the city in 1825 for fifteen hundred dollars. Mason was
another of the early New Yorkers who foresaw the future possibilities of
the real estate of the island. Buying mostly from the Common Lands of
the City, he purchased sixteen blocks from Park to Fifth Avenue, and
from Fifty-fourth to Sixty-third Street. When he died, in 1839, he left
a will cutting off with small annuities both his son James Mason, who
had married Emma Wheatley, a member of the famous Stock Company of the
old Park Theatre, the favourite "Desdemona," "Julia," "Mrs. Heller" of
her day; and his daughter Helen, who had also married against his
wishes. The will was contested, and eventually the block between
Fifty-seventh and Fifty-eighth Streets passed into the hands of Mrs.
Mary Mason Jones. In 1871 she erected on the land houses of white marble
in a style that was a radical departure from the accepted brown-stone
type. At once they became known as the "Marble Row." Mrs. Mary Mason
Jones, in her day a social leader, lived in the house at the
Fifty-seventh Street corner. Later the dwelling was occupied by Mrs.
Paran Stevens.
To "Fifth Avenue" is owed the following description of the
neighbourhood of the present Plaza in the middle of the last century. It
is from the reminiscences of John D. Crimmins, who has been already
quoted in the course of this book. Mr. Crimmins's father was a
contractor and at one time in the employ of Thomas Addis Emmet, whose
country-seat was on the Boston Post Road near Fifty-ninth Street.
[Illustration: SOUTH OF WHERE "ST. GAUDENS'S HERO, GAUNT AND GRIM, RIDES
ON WITH VICTORY LEADING HIM," MAY BE SEEN THE FOUNTAIN OF ABUNDANCE,
AND, IN THE BACKGROUND, THE NEW PLAZA HOTEL]
Says Mr. Crimmins: "In the immediate vicinity were the country-seats of
other prominent New Yorkers, such as the Buchanans, who were the
forebears of the Goelets, the Adriance, Jones, and Beekman families, the
Schermerhorns, Hulls, Setons, Towles, Willets, Lenoxes, Delafields,
Primes, Rhinelanders, Lefferts, Hobbs, Rikers, Lawrences, and others. A
little farther to the north were the country-seats of the Goelets,
Gracies, and the elder John Jacob Astor. With all these people, who were
practically the commercial founders of our city, my father had an
acquaintance. The wealthy merchants of New York at that period
frequently invested their surplus in outlying property and left its care
largely in the hands of my father, who opened up estates, as he did the
Anson Phelps place in the vicinity of Thirtieth Street, which ran north
and extended from the East River to Third Avenue. He also opened up the
Cutting and other large estates. When I was a lad, as I was the oldest
son, my father would take me to the residences of these gentlemen,
several of whom had their permanent homes on Fifth Avenue or in the
vicinity. At that period, these wealthy citizens conducted much of their
business at their homes. James Lenox had his office in the basement of
his house at Fifth Avenue and Twelfth Street. R.L. Stuart attended to
much of his business at his residence, Twentieth Street and Fifth
Avenue, and the same may be said of the Costers, Moses Taylor, and
others. These men had no hesitation in receiving in their homes after
business hours the people whom they employed. I remember distinctly
before gas was generally introduced how very economical in its use those
who had it were. In the absence of the butler the gentleman of the house
would often walk to the door with his visitor and then lower the gas.
The estates of many of these wealthy merchants were rented to market
gardeners. And it was not an unusual sight to see a merchant drive in
his carriage to the vegetable garden, select his vegetables, and carry
them to his table, showing the economy and simple manners of the people
of that older day as compared with our present extravagance.
"After the Board of Aldermen had acceded to the petition of the
residents of Fifth Avenue for permission to enclose a part of the
roadway in a closed yard or area, it was not an uncommon sight to see
many of the older men standing at their gates, in high stocks, white
cravats, cutaway coats with brass buttons, greeting their neighbours as
they passed along the Avenue--a custom which survived to about 1870,
when the white cravat, too, passed into history. The improvements on
Fifth Avenue, north of Thirty-fourth Street, began with the erection of
the Townsend house, which was a feature of the city and shown to
visitors. The location was the foot of a high hill.
"On the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fiftieth Street, where the Cathedral
now stands, stood the frame church, thirty by seventy feet, in which I
was baptized in May, 1844. A path and a road led to the Post Road which
ran east of the church and bordered the Potter's Field. To the north was
the Orphan Asylum, and farther on was another cattle yard, Waltemeir's,
a family well known to cattle men. From Fiftieth Street to St. Luke's
Hospital at Fifty-fourth Street there were a few frame houses, and the
ground extending to Sixth Avenue was used for market gardens. Old maps
of New York show the lanes crossing this section at the time, much like
the country roads we see today thirty or forty miles distant from the
city. Walls ran along these roads with an occasional house with its
gable of the old Dutch type. Mr. Keyser, who dealt in ice gathered from
ponds, occupied the site of the present Vanderbilt houses, Fifty-first
to Fifty-second Street. The Decker house of Dutch architecture occupied
the block between Fourth and Fifth Avenues, Fifty-sixth to Fifty-seventh
Street.
"Peter and Robert Goelet I recall very well. Those who called on Peter
Goelet would find him in a jumper, bluish in colour, such as we see
mechanics wear, with pockets in front. He loved to be occupied and
always had a rule and other articles in his pockets. His brother,
Robert, was the grandfather of the present Goelets. Peter was the elder
and a bachelor. They accompanied each other on walks, Peter, the more
active of the two, in front, and Robert a pace behind. They dealt
directly with their tenants and those whom they employed in taking care
of their properties. I can recall them coming on foot to my father to
have him repair a sidewalk or fence. I doubt if these men in their day,
except for ordinary living expenses, spent five thousand dollars a year.
They were simple in their manners and tastes.
"The older generation was noted for industry, thrift, and economy. An
old merchant, an executor of the Burr estate which owned property
opposite the new Public Library, once stated that no man who had a
million dollars invested, could spend his income in a year. Money at
that time brought seven per cent. The contents of an office did not
exceed in cost fifty dollars, a pine desk and table, and a few chairs.
There were no stenographers and typewriters were unknown.
"Transportation was principally by stage. There were car lines on
Second, Third, Sixth, and Eighth Avenues. The men who kept carriages
were few and they generally lived in Harlem or Manhattanville.
Occasionally smart four-in-hands were seen, and I recall Madame Jumel
driving to town and how we boys used to run to the side of the road to
see her pass. Many business men would go to the city driving a rockaway
with a single horse. Few of the streets were paved, and there were but
two classes of pavements, macadam and cobblestones. Where streets were
not paved the sidewalks were in bad condition. In some places the high
banks of earth on either side of the street were washed down by heavy
rains and deposited on the sidewalks.
"Oil lamps were in general use as street lights, and the light was
easily blown out by the wind. The lamplighter was usually a tall man, a
character, and his position was considered an important one. Fifth
Avenue north of Fifty-ninth Street remained undeveloped for years, and
it was not until sometime in the seventies that my father and I finished
grading upper Fifth Avenue. Sixty years ago on both sides were stone
walls where there were deep depressions. There was no traffic except
drovers coming down to market with cattle. There were but two main
thoroughfares, Boston Post Road on the east side, and Bloomingdale Road
on the west side. From the Boston Post Road long lanes led to the
residences of gentlemen who had country-seats on the East River, and
similar lanes led from the old Bloomingdale Road to the country-seats on
the Hudson River. The sites of the Plaza, the Savoy, and the Netherland
Hotels were rocky knolls. A brook which came down Fifty-ninth Street
formed several shallow pools which remained for a number of years after
the Civil War."
Whether or not Saint Gaudens was right in his contention that the proper
place for his equestrian statue of General Sherman was on the Riverside
Drive by Grant's Tomb, without that gilded bronze figure of heroic size
and the Winged Victory leading before, the Plaza would not be quite the
Plaza. Obscured as it is in these days by the vast scaffolding, there is
no true son of Manhattan who passes the corner on his way up the Avenue,
or enters Central Park, who does not turn to look at the chief ornament
of the broad square. The statue was made several years after Sherman's
death, and the sculptor laboured on it for six years, from the time when
he began the work in Paris, to its final unveiling, on Memorial Day,
1903. Of the statue and its surroundings as he saw them on the occasion
of one of his later visits to the city of his birth and boyhood, Henry
James wrote:
"The best thing in the picture, obviously, is Saint Gaudens's great
group, splendid in its golden elegance and doing more for the scene (by
thus giving the beholder a point of such dignity for his orientation)
than all its other elements together. Strange and seductive for any
lover of the reasons of things this inordinate value, on the spot, of
dauntless refinement of the Sherman image; the comparative vulgarity of
the environment drinking it up, on one side, like an insatiable sponge,
and yet failing at the same time to impair its virtue. The refinement
prevails and, as it were, succeeds; holds its own in the medley of
accidents, where nothing else is refined unless it be the amplitude of
the 'quiet' note in the front of the Metropolitan Club; amuses itself,
in short, with being as extravagantly 'intellectual' as it likes. Why,
therefore, given the surrounding medium, does it so triumphantly impose
itself, and impose itself not insidiously and gradually, but immediately
and with force? Why does it not pay the penalty of expressing an idea
and being founded on one?--such scant impunity seeming usually to be
enjoyed among us, at this hour, by any artistic intention of the finer
strain? But I put these questions only to give them up--for what I feel
beyond anything else is that Mr. Saint Gaudens somehow takes care of
himself."
Facing the Sherman group, in the centre of the square, with the
Cornelius Vanderbilt house in the background, is the Fountain of
Abundance, or the Pulitzer Memorial Fountain, designed by Karl Bitter
(his last work), executed by Isidore Konti, and erected in 1915 to the
memory of the late Joseph Pulitzer, for many years proprietor of the New
York "World." The structure is surmounted by the bronze figure of a
nymph, bearing a basket laden with the fruits of the earth. The
Vanderbilt residence which is the background when the Fountain is viewed
from the north is of red brick with grey facings in the style of a
French château of the sixteenth or seventeenth century.