The Mansion on Eagle Street
New York Governors and Their Elaborate Home, 1875 - 1913: Part I
The New York State Executive Mansion
The state owned home of a public official, whether it’s 10 Downing Street in England or the Rashtrapati Bhavan in India, is inherently synonymous with the office held by its primary occupant. Historians will claim when describing the electoral success of a U.S. presidential candidate for example, that they “captured the White House”. These are more than just famous old buildings, they’re enduring symbols of authority. They transcend eras, occasionally shape-shifting through the hard work of unsung laborers, all the while serving as silent witnesses to pivotal events in their respective nation’s history and the making of world-shaking decisions.
Recently, my fascination with these storied homes merged with another special interest of mine— U.S. gubernatorial history. Particularly that of my home state, New York.
Since the middle of the 19th century, the Executive Mansion in Albany has housed thirty-two of the state’s fifty-seven governors. In this essay, we will be exploring the life of this iconic property during the “gilded age” and next week, in the “progressive era” that followed. We will also be looking at the executives themselves of course, their family and friends, personalities and accomplishments, as well as their lasting impact on politics, and the circumstances that led to their rise in the first place.
Governor Tilden Holds a Reception for William Cullen Bryant, Feb. 1875
It’s yet another cold, dark night in February 1875. A procession of horse-drawn carriages carrying respected state senators and their wives, assemblymen, members of the business community and the capital city’s aristocracy, rushes by— heading south, towards the ostentatious home of the governor. Around 8:30 p.m., they arrive to see nearly 2,000 guests are already crammed into the numerous rooms and corridors, spilling out onto the front lawn.
Situated in the lobby at the top of the central staircase, an orchestra plays gorgeous, romantic music that emanates throughout the house. Men, strapped into tuxedos or elaborate military uniforms, are forced to raise their voices over the loud, gleeful exclamations of others, as women laugh and banter, their necks adorned with brilliant diamond jewelry. The governor’s staff, acting as waiters, struggle to maneuver through the crowd while holding trays piled high with finger food. A grander spread is laid out in one of the rear parlors for those still on the hunt for sustenance.
Despite how it may seem, all this fuss is not for the governor’s benefit. Instead, that honor belongs to his esteemed acquaintance, poet and political activist, William Cullen Bryant.
Eighty-years-old with a long, grey beard as chaotic as it is extravagant, Bryant shakes hand after hand in the south room. He’s flanked on one side by Mary Pelton, the governor’s older sister— a widow, who runs the household with the assistance of her adoptive niece, Adelaide. On the other side, is the governor himself, Samuel J. Tilden. An extremely private, frail and careful man from an old colonial family, he would rather have his nose buried deep in a favored book than host an exhausting social event like this. Hours later, to his chagrin, spirits remain high. Finally, at 2 a.m., his visitors begrudgingly cease dancing and begin their journey home.
Like many of those who had already and would later assume the governorship of New York, Tilden was a wealthy man. By this time he owned a brownstone-fronted duplex and an adjacent mansion overlooking Gramercy Park in Manhattan. By the end of the decade he would also possess “Greystone”, a 33-acre estate in Westchester County. George Smith, a friend, would remark that he “although a bachelor, found in the course of time that he required more space than his house afforded him.” Perhaps for this reason (and an aversion to long daily commutes), Tilden sent his nephew William Pelton to negotiate a rental agreement with a man named Robert L. Johnson in Albany shortly after he was elected governor in November 1874.
It was known locally that the state had been keeping an eye on Johnson’s home at 138 Eagle Street for a while, hoping to acquire it for the use of whoever the sitting governor may be. Earlier on, governors-elect were forced to spend the winter searching for a temporary home, which was never an easy task. Their search reportedly began in the 1830s, about the same time the residence had been constructed on top of an orchard, half a mile from the original Capitol Building by Thomas Worth Olcott, president of the Mechanics’ and Farmers’ Bank. It had been a comparatively simplistic Italianate structure at first. But when it fell into Robert Johnson’s hands in the 1860s, he added Napoleon III style details to the exterior, including bay windows, a Mansard roof and a corner tower. Furthermore, an eighty foot long private carriage house and stable, connected to the southwest side via speaking tubes, was completed just before Tilden moved in. His rent was $9,000 annually.
Swept into office on a pledge to tackle corruption, and saddled with a term length of only two-years to effect change, Tilden incited a war with the “canal ring”, a group of contractors and politicians who were intentionally overcharging the state for repair work on the canal system. Indictments occurred, as well as the establishment of a canal commission. This achievement— coupled with his known role in the downfall of the eras king of graft and greed— William Magear Tweed— helped Tilden secure the Democratic Party’s nomination for president in 1876. Only one governor from the Empire State had ever been elected president before (Martin Van Buren in 1836) although plenty more had tried and failed. Disaster struck in September though, when Tilden’s older brother Moses abruptly died of a heart attack. A devastating loss— right before the election. Moses had been an assemblyman for a single year to assist his brother’s aspirations in 1869, and then moved back to their hometown, New Lebanon, to facilitate the construction of what would become the Lebanon Springs Railroad. Unfortunately, that effort left him in financial peril and Tilden (who spent $200,000 of his own money on the project) generously supplemented his brother’s income from that point on. Yet, as the sun went down on election day a month later, the governor had seemingly managed to defeat his rival, Governor Rutherford B. Hayes of Ohio, in an extremely (and I mean extremely) close race. But political wheeling and dealing ensued and, in one of the most controversial moments in our nation’s electoral history, the presidency was handed over to Hayes instead by a newly appointed executive committee voting along party lines. Tilden promptly retired from politics in June 1877 after delivering his concession speech to the Manhattan Club, a social group coincidentally founded in part by President Van Buren.
Governor Lucius Robinson, Tilden’s bearded successor, pushed the legislature to buy the Executive Mansion that same year for $45,000. He also appointed Fredric Olcott, a son of the property’s original owner, as State Comptroller. Like Tilden, Robinson was a Democrat fervently opposed to Tammany Hall, a Democratic political machine based in New York City, formally led by the aforementioned William M. Tweed. This cost him reelection in 1879 (the governor’s term length was extended by the constitutional commission of 1872-73) because Tweed’s own successor, Grand Sachem “Honest” John Kelly decided to dispute the notion that his organization had become weak by running against the governor. This split the vote and consequently allowed the Republican nominee, Alonzo B. Cornell, to beat them both.
Cornell, son of the founder of the university that bares his name, had been moving up the political ladder in New York for over twenty years. He did so by aligned himself with Republican Party boss Senator Roscoe Conkling, one of the most influential figures in Washington who controlled patronage appointments at the U.S. Custom House. The Custom House was the largest source of revenue for the federal government at the time. Cornell became chairman of the state Republican Party in 1870, elected assemblyman for the 11th district three years later, and was tapped for speaker during his first term (which was rare). He was also a delegate to the 1876 national convention, where he played a part in Rutherford Hayes’s nomination for president. Then, on his way out the door, President Ulysses S. Grant appointed him naval officer of the Port of New York, under the jurisdiction of the Custom House.
After his inauguration in March 1877 Hayes withdrew the last federal soldiers from the south, officially ending post-civil war reconstruction, and turned his attention to civil service reform. By the summer, he signed an executive order barring federal office holders from contributing to political campaigns or otherwise taking part in party politics. This placed him firmly in the crosshairs of both parties in congress, but specifically Senator Conkling, who benefited from the system as it was.
Determined to take down Conkling by targeting the source of his power, the president authorized an investigation into the Custom House. When John Jay (grandson of New York’s 2nd Governor John Jay) handed him a report suggesting that the Custom House was overflowing with political appointees (20% of which were expendable), Hayes attacked. He ordered the U.S. Treasury Department to inform Cornell that he would have to resign his party chairmanship if he wanted to continue being a naval officer. He demanded the same of Conkling’s other henchmen, Chester A. Arthur (Collector of the Port of New York) and George H. Sharpe (Surveyor of the Port of New York). They refused, but successors were nominated anyway (Bradford Prince, Theodore Roosevelt Sr. and Edwin Merritt respectively)— only to be promptly rejected by Conkling’s Senate Commerce Committee. The full senate rejected Prince and Roosevelt soon after, only confirming Merritt because Sharpe’s term had expired. Roosevelt died of intestinal cancer a couple months later in February 1878, devistating his 19-year-old son, Theodore Jr., who had been unaware of his father’s condition while away at Harvard.
Later in the year, after congress adjourned, Hayes fired both Cornell and Arthur with recess appointments of Merritt and Silas Burt (Charles Graham took over as surveyor). But subsequently, to Hayes’s presumable dismay, over the next two years Cornell was elected governor of New York and Chester Arthur was elected vice president as Republican congressman James Garfield’s running mate.
Alonzo Cornell’s inauguration was at noon on January 1st, 1880 in Albany. Fresh snow blanketed the ground, and was already melting by the time the Executive Mansion was opened at 3 p.m. The new governor, his mother, his wife Ellen, sisters-in-law Emma Case and Esther Hastings, alongside the wives of prominent Republicans like Charles E. Smith and former U.S. Rep. John Lawson, then greeted a seemingly endless stream of constituents for over three hours.
Cornell’s tenure was similar to that of the men who’d recently proceeded him in two ill-fated ways. First, he became extremely sick after moving into the mansion. Governor Tilden was typically under the weather anyway, so no one raised an eyebrow during his term when he got sick. Robinson also struggled with his health, but apparently chose not to think much of it. Near the end of August 1881, Cornell was diagnosed with “malarial poisoning” and the physicians tending to him blamed the house. A plumber was immediately hired to look into it. That individual, who’s name was not mentioned in the New York Times article discussing the incident, discovered that the half-and-half cement drain installed by Thomas Olcott was broken in several places, allowing raw sewage to leak into the water supply. To fix this, Cornell spared no expense. New cast iron pipes caulked with lead were installed as well as a new eight-inch vitrified drain. A trench was dug and then abandoned when it was determined to be insufficient due to lack of water there, and the basins and closets were updated.
The second thing he had in common with the mansion’s former inhabitants (and no less disappointing to him than drinking filthy water, I’m sure) was that he, like them, failed to capture a second term. Worse yet, he wasn’t even nominated. Though not for poor service or lack of respect among the electorate. The exact opposite actually.
By now, Republicans were openly fractured into two factions. Senator Conkling’s “Stalwarts”, supporters of political machines and the use of patronage to retain their influence, and reformer-types known as “Half-Breeds”. Once in office, Governor Cornell surprised the Stalwarts by refusing to play ball with them, denying them access to coveted jobs in Albany. As a result, then-President Chester Arthur (who had ascended after the assassination of President Garfield in the fall of 1881), Conkling and robber baron Jay Gould (a rival of Cornell’s) conspired against him. At the state convention in late September 1882, their scheme triumphant, Arthur’s Secretary of the Treasury Charles Folger walked away with the party’s gubernatorial nomination by a margin of eight votes.
Democrats assembled at Shakespeare Hall in Syracuse, New York two days later. U.S. Rep. Roswell Flower was neck-in-neck with retired union general and former Rep. Henry Slocum. Once it became clear after several rounds of voting that Slocum was going to take the lead, the various opposing factions within the party (including Tammany) threw their support behind everybody’s second choice, obscure Buffalo mayor, Grover Cleveland, who was championed by Edgar Apgar (the deputy treasurer of NY who had been a driving force behind Samuel Tilden’s gubernatorial campaign). Cleveland would win a decisive victory when pitted against Sec. Folger in the general election.
On November 7th, after all the votes were tallied, the governor-elect sent his brother Will a letter stating the following: “The policy I intend to adopt is to make the matter a business engagement between the people of the state and myself, in which the obligation on my side is to perform the duties assigned to me with an eye single to the interest of my employers. I shall have no idea of reelection or any higher political preferment in my head, but be very thankful and happy if I can well serve one term as the people’s governor.”
Cleveland is Inaugurated in the Capitol, Jan 1883
Cleveland kept an “open door policy” at the Executive Mansion, which some noted was fairly dangerous at the very least in an age not too far removed from the unexpected slaughter of two sitting presidents. Never-the-less, this was a move emulated by governors with similar populist tendencies in the future. And, it should be said, it was also itself a send-up to the so called “father of the Democratic Party” Andrew Jackson, who did much of the same while he was living in the White House. Cleveland, unsurprisingly, also pushed back against pressure from state Democratic Party bosses who expected political favors and appointments, refusing to cow-tow to threats. He rarely slept or socialized and shirked the use of the traditional gubernatorial carriage. He preferred walking back and forth from the Executive Mansion to the Capitol Building every day— and working until the early hours of the morning. Regarding the mansion itself, the governor made little use of it. The only notable addition was a billiard table, and the only existing amenity he used was the work desk. He traveled frequently, visited his former home in Buffalo at least once a month and usually on the weekends, as well as New York City. In August 1883 Cleveland spent three weeks in the North Woods on a hunting trip organized by his childhood friend, Josiah K. Brown. He kept in contact with Albany through the use of a telegraph during a brief stopover in the Blue Mountain Lake region. At one point, a detective from Massachusetts was sent to track him down to acquire a signature on a warrant for the extradition of adulterer James Otis Kaler (adultery was illegal at the time).
Cleveland worked across the aisle, building a bi-partisan coalition based on integrity and good-government. Collaborating with Republican Theodore Roosevelt Jr. (now a state assemblyman) for instance, he signed a bill into law that ended the practice of state employees paying dues to political parties in New York. He also signed the first conservation measures to protect Niagara Falls, an action derided previously by Governor Cornell.
The electorate made it known they appreciated his work and Cleveland’s star rose rapidly, not just in New York but nationally. As the convention to decide the Democratic nominee for the presidency approached in 1884, many still hoped former governor Tilden would make a comeback. This was unrealistic. Tilden had become reclusive in his old age and suffered a debilitating stroke. Their gaze next fell on Cleveland. Tilden actually backed this up, penning a letter of support that singled the governor out as the heir to his legacy of anti-corruption. In November, a faction of Republicans nicknamed “Mugwumps” crossed party lines— earning Cleveland a narrow win over Republican nominee James G. Blane. For a while, the president-elect rested at the Executive Mansion, while his transition team worked with President Arthur’s people to get everything in order. In December, before he left the city, 200 guests were invited to a rare Christmas-time gathering at the Eagle Street residence, including Daniel Manning (chair of the state Democratic Party), Edgar Apgar and Dudley Olcott (another son of the mansion’s first owner). Cleveland’s sisters, Elizabeth and Mary Hoyt, lent a hand with the preparations. Previously, Hoyt had stayed at the mansion to take care of Cleveland while he was plagued with rheumatism in his knee the previous June.
The private, backroom inauguration of the next governor, then- lieutenant governor David B. Hill, was quite fitting in retrospect considering the kind of man he would prove to be. Like Tilden and his immediate predecessor, Hill was a relatively unsociable bachelor- which meant the Executive Mansion would be no less quiet than it already was during his stay. A machine loyalist, Hill rolled back many of the reforms put in place over the years— and used political patronage to gain power and influence far greater than that of any of the governors we’ve previously discussed. Keeping in line with this theme, he vetoed a ballot reform bill that the Republicans in the legislature had proposed. It wasn't all bad though, he supported a restriction on maximum working hours and signed a bill protecting 715,000 acres of forest land (which eventually became the Adirondack Park in 1885). He was reelected to a full term later that year and again in 1888, defeating Rep. Ira Davenport and former Sen. Werner Miller respectively.
A note from Mayor Cleveland to Hill, 1882
Governor Hill, despite his ambition and evident lack of a personal life, pushed for a tremendous amount of alterations to the Executive Mansion during his tenure. You see, years prior, in 1867, work had commenced on a new state Capitol Building. It quickly spiraled out of control and way over budget. Thomas Fuller, a Canadian architect hired to direct the project, was fired after about a decade and replaced by Leopold Eidlitz and Henry Richardson. Days after taking office, Cleveland released an expenditure report to the public. In it, he estimated construction costs had, up until that point, totaled $14,222,998. He fired Eidlitz and Richardson that same year and hired another architect, Isaac Perry, to oversee what he hoped would be the final stage of work on the building. It would not be finished until the final year of the century, 1899, and by then the total cost had ballooned to $25,000,000. Governor Hill, utilizing Perry for his own convenience while he worked on the Capitol, hired him to also renovate the ornate and expansive Executive Mansion, which he complained was too small for his liking. It’s size was nearly doubled by the time Isaac was finished in 1887- rendered unrecognizable with a new Queen Anne aesthetic.
The governor’s presidential aspirations were very apparent to all. In 1888, when Cleveland was evicted from the White House by voters in favor of Republican Benjamin Harrison, Hill became the head of the state Democratic Party. In 1890, when they took control of the legislature, Hill made a move to raise his profile, and had his allies elect him U.S. senator. Then, intending to hand New York’s executive branch directly to his crony, Roswell Flower, he announced he would not vacate the governorship until after the gubernatorial election in November 1891. Flower won of course, assisted by Hill, and once he was firmly in control of the state, he re-appointed many of the same men who had already been serving in Hill’s administration.
Concurrent with his departure from the capital, the New York Times published the following scathing statement on Governor Hill. “For this was the day upon which the city and state were to lose the contaminating presence of a man who will go into history as the most corrupt, perhaps, and certainly the most unscrupulous governor that New York has ever had.”
Hill’s presidential campaign kicked off on February 22nd 1892, George Washington’s birthday. He called a state “snap convention”. The goal was to generate buzz for himself going into the national convention in June. The urban delegates that were aligned with him were able to make it since the event was held in the city, but the rural ones that may have opposed him had a tougher time, forced to travel through the ice and snow. This backfired however, when most of the country reacted to the news of this machination with disgust, and on the exact same day former president Cleveland gave a rousing speech at the University of Michigan, which attracted significant attention and derailed Hill’s ambitious plans. Cleveland was then nominated by the Democrats and elected to a second non-consecutive term as president in November, while Hill was voted out of office in a landslide at the end of his senatorial term in 1897, replaced by influential Republican and former senator, Thomas C. Platt.
Platt, who had been a Republican since the party’s formation, was a strong supporter of Senator Conkling and the Stalwarts throughout the 1870s. When President Garfield fired Edwin Merritt as Collector of the Port of New York in 1881, both men resigned from the senate in protest, assuming they would be re-appointed by the state legislature. This effort failed due to the machinations of the Half-Breed opposition. Garfield was then assassinated by a disgruntled Stalwart, decimating their faction’s reputation nationally. Conkling, who abstained from alcohol and tobacco- and kept himself fit with a rigorous boxing routine, died in 1888 from an infection after attempting to walk three miles home from his Wall Street law office during the “Great Blizzard”. Platt meanwhile, rebuilt the Republican machine.
On the day of his inauguration in 1892, Roswell Flower and his wife, Sarah, rebooted a beloved tradition that had been neglected by his crafty predecessor, Hill. They received guests from 3 p.m. to 4 p.m. at the Executive Mansion. Sarah Flower’s presence was of particular note to one excited reporter, who remarked that the mansion was “losing somewhat of its bachelor barrenness and is beginning to look like a comfortable home.” Sarah claimed she was looking forward to entertaining lavishly, which she did as often as she could. She added furnishings and hung personal photos. Governor Flower, who self-limited his workday to five hours in length, had lunch every day at the residence. He kept a large quantity of cigars and chewing tobacco on hand. He also had the gallery of gubernatorial portraits moved from the second floor to the new Capitol Building— aware the mansion was far from fire proof.
Thank you for reading. Next time, we will be continuing our journey- briefly touching upon the terms of governors Levi P. Morton (1895-1896) and Frank Black (1897-1898) before diving head first into the gubernatorial election of 1898, a significant turning point in New York State and national history.