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Even today, having your wedding covered by a prominent newspaper is a coup. For socially prominent Brooklynites in the late 1900’s, the Brooklyn Daily Eagle was the paper of note, and anyone who was anyone had their wedding ceremony and reception covered by the society pages of the paper. If you were a bride of a certain standing, you could expect to see a flowery, yet accurate description of your dress, your jewelry, the flowers, your bridesmaids and perhaps the decoration of the church. The writer would then go on to effusively describe your reception, and list the notable guests. Oh, and they would also mention your new husband, his occupation, and list his groomsmen. The writer may even mention your honeymoon plans. That was the normal way of things. But what if you were marrying one of Brooklyn’s finest, most sought after, and best self-promoting, social climbing architects? What if you became Mrs. Montrose Morris?

At 8pm on November 14th, 1889, Miss Florence Gould Travis walked down the aisle of the Marcy Avenue Baptist Church, in Bedford, to meet Montrose Morris at the altar. The bride was accompanied by a maid of honor, four bridesmaids and two flower girls, the latter her younger sisters. Mr. Morris had six ushers and his best man at his side. Florence was dressed in white faille francaise, with an embroidered front of white mousseline de soie and pearls, and a satin brocade train. She had a long veil attached to a crown of orange blossoms, and carried a bouquet of white chrysanthemums. She was walked down the aisle by her father, her bridesmaids and maid of honor were also beautifully dressed and the flower girls scattered rose petals before her. The organist was fine, the wedding march from Lohengrin was played for the procession, and they were married by the Reverend W.C.P. Rhoades. This description takes a couple of paragraphs in one of the longest wedding articles I’ve ever seen in the Eagle. The rest of this substantial article consists of a room by room, detailed description of the Morris house at 234 Hancock Street. And there were a LOT of rooms.

The Marcy Avenue Baptist Church was only two blocks away from the Morris home, and guests were invited to the lavish reception at 234 Hancock Street. The house in point of architectural beauty and elegance of internal decoration, can probably compare favorably with any of its size in the state and was especially designed and built by Architect Morris for his bride. Stained glass paneled doors led one into the entrance hall with coffered oak ceilings, high wainscoting and and a recessed seat with armorial bearings. This lead to the large reception room and library two stories high with a balcony which led to the second floor rooms. The balcony was supported by heavily carved brackets. Down below, in the reception room, there was a large fireplace with inglenook seating and built-in book cases. A staircase rose up on one side, surrounded by pillars. Two iron crane lanterns lit the stairs. And there’s more: In the center of the paneled ceiling, which is twenty-two feet high, is a stained glass dome lighted by artificial light as well as from above. At the end of the reception hall is a stained glass window representing lily ponds with reeds and cattails and trees on the other side, with mountains rising in the distance.

The rest of the parlor was ornate with fabric hangings, built-ins, carpeting and hand painted wall coverings, draperies, and chandeliers and sconces of ormolu, gold and onyx. Then one entered the octagonal dining room, which had hand painted metal walls, taken from a castle in Germany, with paneled ceilings, with the same hand painted metal inserts inset inside the panels. Rounding out the room was a fireplace and built-ins, and a bay window, the entire room sumptuously swathed in silk draperies. The reporter got the run of the house, going upstairs to inspect the bedrooms, bathroom and sitting room, all quite elegant and ornate, although much more subdued than the parlor floor. The sitting room was quite elegant, decorated in the popular Japanese influenced Aesthetic Movement style.

On the third floor, in the front of the house, a billiard room awaited male guests. This 20′ square room had an 18′ ceiling. The side walls, above the dado, are ornamented with bamboo decorations and a mountain and sky effect in the background. Around the sides of the room are twelve Corinthian columns, supporting the entablature which carried the domed ceiling, the center of which is a large glass dome, illumined at night by artificial light. Suspended from the dome is a polished iron chandelier which hangs on four ropes through rings at either corner, supporting four lanterns over the billiard table. To the right is a large Dutch fireplace with chip tile of light shade, bearing above it a high cabinet mantel exhibiting a carved panel. In the center of which appear the inscriptions, ‘good friends, good fire and good cheer.’ A stairway led to another balcony from which the ladies could watch the game. Around the side walls of the room built-in benches with plush covered cushions, were built into the wainscoting. Another bedroom and bath took up the rest of this floor. The top floor had a guest room, dressing room, servant’s room and trunk room. The basement (ground floor) held the kitchen, butler’s pantry, store room, wine cellar, furnace and servant’s office. A service stair also ran up the back.

The article goes on to say that guests were extremely impressed by this opulent showplace, and said What a lucky bride, until they saw the beautiful Mrs. Morris, surrounded by flowers which were arranged everywhere in the house, and her bridesmaids, and they said lucky man! The couple went to Chicago, San Francisco, Mexico and Cuba for their honeymoon of nine weeks. They were showered with expensive gifts of gold, silverplate and jewelry, and ended their reception with a supper taken on the balcony of their billiard room, with their closest guests below, receiving showers of flowers and rice from well wishers. The couple would eventually have three children and remain married until his death in 1916. Florence would move to Long Island, where she died in 1933. Both are buried in Green-Wood Cemetery.

This spectacular house did not survive. It burned down in the 1970’s. We can only wonder how much of this grand detail survived up until then. We can do better than simply imagine what it looked like, however. There is one surviving photograph, published in an architectural journal. We know Morris used his house as a showroom, and it was his best marketing tool. So much so that many of the elements of this house were used again in his other commissions. His wainscoting, paneled ceilings and inglenook and hooded fireplaces are in most of his homes, and can be seen today. His grand billiard room, with the balcony and carved fireplace, with good friends, good fire and good cheer can be seen in the newly restored billiard room in the Hulburt Mansion, now the Poly Prep elementary school, on Prospect Park West in Park Slope. He also replicated his two story reception room in the house he built next door to his, on the corner of Marcy Avenue, at 232 Hancock Street. Although much altered, due to a fire in this house as well, 232 retains many of the design elements that his house had, including in the basic design of the facade. The few photographs that exist showing the two houses side by side, looking, as Montrose Morris houses often do, like a larger single entity. The fire that created the empty lot that now remains destroyed what may have been one of the most interesting and spectacular homes in all of Brooklyn. Ironically, even the Marcy Avenue Baptist Church is gone. Renamed Concord Baptist Church in 1929, the original building burned down in 1952, replaced by the large modern church that stands today, now one of the largest and most powerful black churches in the city. How the world changes.


What's Your Take? Leave a Comment

  1. Mopar, those hooded fireplaces seemed to have been very popular in the 1890’s. Montrose Morris used them a lot, but so did Magnus Dahlander, George Chappell and others. In the above photos you can see the original in MM’s house, there on the left, with the built-in seat, and the fireplace in the lower left photo also has the little hooded roof. Morris doesn’t do this, but the hooded fireplaces in Dahlander’s houses seem to be transitional between late Victorian and Arts and Crafts, often with large square solid glazed tiles and ornate ironwork on the fireplace opening and surround. Cool stuff, but a lot to dust.

  2. Monstrose, any idea what year or decade the hooded fireplace is from? 1890s also?

    (We have a nearly identical fireplace, minus the hood, that doesn’t match the other fireplaces in our circa 1893 house.)