A little history on The Hotel Kauterskill From the Coxsackie Union News, February 1, 1952 $1,500,000 Hotel Built for Spite by Mabel Parker Smith Far yonder on South Mountain stands The structure built by Hardings hands. The cock that crew defied him twice; Ill build a hotel in a trice! Then up the towering hillside went, To build a hotel he was bent. He bought the lands stretched near and far Which then belonged to John Scribner... Verses from credited to Ezra Cornwall Solitary as the Catskill Mountain House stands against the green facade of its mountains toady it seems fantastic to recall that it was ever dwarfed, overshadowed and outdone by a rival which, in its day, lorded it over the high horizon. One of the most spectacular tales in the lore of the region is that of a feud on a colossal scale which raged for nearly half a century along the mountain skyline until it literally burned itself out in a blaze of fury one quiet September evening in 1924. Almost forgotten by the older generations and quite unknown to youngsters and newcomers is the fact that at the peak of its glory and for many years thereafter, the preeminence of the Mountain House was challenged by what was probably the most grandiose, expensive and extravagant competition known to the resort business of that day or this. Larger Than Mt. House The competition took shape on the brow of South Mountain between the summers of 1880 and 81 more than two miles distant from and several hundred feet higher than the Mountain House, when the Hotel Kaaterskill rose towering, sprawling, glistening in its mid-century modernity in startling contrast to the timeless beauty of the classic columned Mountain House. More than three times the size of the Mountain House, the Hotel Kaaterskill was publicized around the globe as the worlds largest mountain hotel, and every detail of appointment and service was proclaimed to be in accord with that boast. The Mountain House survived the challenge and remains a cherished landmark while there are few, who, less than 25 years after destruction of the Kaaterskill, could even locate its site on the ever grown promontory it once dominated. Spite House The Kaaterskill was a spite house from the first and when it burned the smoke from its $1,500,000 pyre had a fancied odor of sadly overdone chicken to those who knew its story. Word of the fire reached Catskill shortly before dark with an appeal by phone for all available fire fighting equipment. I went to the fire. The sky was just beginning to clear after long, heavy rains and once we turned off the Haines Falls Beachs Corners road into the Laurel House road thence into the Kaaterskill spur there were fire apparatus, cars and trucks mired all along the way. The narrow, rutted road was through such thick, arched woods with the holocaust at its terminus that it seemed like driving straight into the mouth of a roaring blast furnace. The flames which were reported to have been seen after dark to the east across the Massachusetts line levelled (sic) the great house to a white hot furnace pit in less than two hours. The Fire The fire occurred only a week after the close of a season which seemed to have promised a return of some measure of departed glories. However, insurance on the structure was said to have been either fractional of non-existant and, with both its vengeful builder and the many against whom rivalry was directed long since dead, there were no longer means nor sentiment to restore it. Conceived in a millionaires fit of pique because an invalid wife was denied fried chicken for breakfast at the Beach Mountain House in the summer of 1880, the story goes, the Kaaterskill sprang into being almost over a winters night. It had the fabulous fortune of George W. Harding of Philadelphia behind it. Harding was a patent lawyer of note and had served as Commissioner of Patents in the Lincoln administration. For fifteen summers he had brought his family to the Mountain House. It is more than likely, as suggested by Ezra Cornwalls fragmentary doggerel above, that the chicken-for-breakfast incident was only the culmination of a series of complaints irking the proud and complacent proprietorship of the Beaches. On his part Harding left no mistake that in his estimation he was not being accorded the consideration due a guest of his means and long patronage. When C.L. Beach in pompous defiance, told Harding to build his own hotel if he wanted fried chicken at odd times, Harding accepted the challenge. In answer the 1,200 room Hotel Kaaterskill opened to guests in July 1881. Tradition says it was the summer capital of two presidents. Newspaper accounts of 1883 which I read at the time of the fire reported that Ulysses S. Grant was a summer guest of the house with his family that year, the reception to their honor being described at that time as the the most brilliant these lordly altitudes have ever known. Mr Harding, it was reported, deeded to the General a summer home, Boulder Rock, one of the highest points in the Catskills. In 1884 it was the summer residence of President Chester A. Arthur. France, England, Germany and South America, as well as virtually every city on this continent sent their summer quotas of nobility, dignitaries and social elite to the luxurious hostelry above the clouds. Famous visitors Novelist Oscar Wilde, Lillian Langtree, famed English actress, John Wanamaker, who deserted his beautiful villa at Cheltenham, Pa., to enjoy the salubrious air of the Catskill, and William Belden, for whose twelve horses the stables had to be remodelled, are a few of the names which crowded its registers in those first extravagant, expanding summers. The tale of the Harding spending spree to make good a boast had traveled fast and far even while the great lodge was a-building and by the time its six-story twin towers topped the skyline the careless supervision of construction had corrupted many a workman until the stories and even evidence of huge misappropriation and open thievery became a legend. Building There was no counting the cost under the headlong pressure to complete the structure. Materials were ordered and delivered in fabulous quantities. Carpenters engaged in remodelling parts of the establishment forty years later confirmed reports of lathe carried to the top floor and dumped by the bundle between partitions. A large room under the bandstand, which was one of the few adjuncts to escape the flames, remained at that time piled to the ceiling with unused bathroom fixtures of half a century before. Water pipe, it is said, was in enormous oversupply and was often noted under culverts or by the roadside in the evening but had disappeared by morning. But if George Harding was a free spender he also wanted what he wanted for his price. In 1891 the town of Hunter, in which the hotel was located, elected three excise commissioners pledged to no license under the prevailing local option law. With the all-out cunning for which he was noted Harding promptly invited the entire legislature of the State of New York, then in session in Albany, and the Town Board of Hunter along with every other politician and influence-wielder he could summon to a great dinner at the Kaaterskill. He chartered a train from Albany and, with all he could hire in Greene and Ulster counties, conveyed his guests up the mountain. Seated at at dinner they numbered 1,360. Whether they knew they were flies on a giant web I have not seen recorded, but after the lavish wining and dining Harding made a speech, brif, but to the point, Gentlemen, he proclaimed, You here represent the entire legislative power of the State of New York. The Town of Hunter has placed in office men pledged to issue no license to this or any other hotel. You can here and now enact a measure shifting the boundary line of the adjoining towns of Hunter and Catskill just 1,000 feet, thereby removing the Kaaterskill from the Town of Hunter to the Town of Catskill. On the other hand, the Town Board of Hunter may call a special election and put new commissioners in office. Hunter soon found two commissioners disqualified and called a new election. Three commissioners were subsequently elected unfettered by qualms about licensing the sale of liquor. Polish of the Patrons At the time of the fire I copied from an old account in the possession of the late E.C. Titus, early telephone man and electrician serving Catskill and the mountain top area, an excerpt from an inquiry by a prospective feminine guest. She was particularly concerned to know about the gentility and polish of the patrons, how they dressed, were they endowed with classic tastes and refined notions of existence? Her society must be of that class, she said. her room must be on the north side and have a ten foot ceiling. There must be a piano, no mosquitoes, nor any of those horrid, noisy frogs. She wanted spring beds, walnut furniture with marble tops. The table she required to be first class, fully supplied with all delicacies, and the waiters must be colored, in full dress. She could not pay over five dollars a week, she said. If her wished could be complied with as indicated, she would come up for a week or two in August. I never discovered whether the requirements were met. Summer romance is mildly hinted in another notation that Captain Gillett, manager of the Kaaterskill, is going to have a curved telescope made so he can sit on the front balcony and see clear around the world to the back balcony. This is to break up the flirting there by twilight. A New Yorker started the custom of going to the back balcony at 10 oclock to see the Northern Lights. The sentimental young couples soon caught the idea and now every night you can see rows and rows of beautiful Philadelphia girls sitting under umbrellas held by flirting New York fellows. When a good Philadelphia father misses his beautiful daughter he goes straight to the Northern Light balcony. He is sure to find her there busily studying astronomy. Her face and the face of her associate astronomer are not to be seen, but if father walks out into the darkness and says A-hem! the umbrella will drop and four bright eyes will be fixed on the stars. On cloudy nights they say Capt. Gillett has a man go over in the woods and burn pine trees so as to produce an artificial northern light for the young people. I did not believe this until last night when the northern light appeared directly in the West. Then I knew that Capt. Gillett, who is not a scientist had sent the man to the wrong woods. Professor Proctor has been since written to to run the northern light department of the hotel. A hotel with a private astronomer is a new thing. Mr. Titus, who was frequently called to spend several days at a time at the Kaaterskill on electrical work, used to quote plaintive lines he said he had read many times where they were scrawled in the wall of a small basement room used by the house staff. Signed by A Bell Boy, doubtless after the golden era, they recounted bitterly: If by chance your gaze should fall Upon this old and battered wall Below youll find some good advice, Read it once and then think twice. Dont take this to be a joke-- Ten to one youll leave here broke, For of all the dubs that roam at will The worst come here to Kaaterskill! Its take up ice water, take up hot, -- Will you get a tip? Well, I guess not!
Posted on: Mon, 21 Jul 2014 20:48:59 +0000
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