Louis Comfort Tiffany’s Gift to American Art: The Laurelton Hall Foundation

Louis Comfort Tiffany’s Gift to American Art: The Laurelton Hall Foundation

In 1919, famed artist and designer Louis Comfort Tiffany turned his passion for beauty into a living gift for generations of American artists. With the establishment of the Louis Comfort Tiffany Foundation, he opened eighty acres of his Long Island estate, Laurelton Hall, along with a million-dollar endowment, to nurture creative talent.

Tiffany’s idea was simple yet groundbreaking: provide artists with inspiring surroundings, access to great works of art, and freedom from daily cares so they could fully dedicate themselves to their craft. The Foundation’s first trustees included leading figures in American art such as sculptor Daniel Chester French and architect Cass Gilbert, with Stanley Lothrop appointed as director.

Laurelton Hall was no ordinary estate. Tiffany himself had designed and built it, from the architecture and gardens to the rugs, furniture, and even the smallest decorative details. The property blended wild nature with cultivated beauty, and its galleries overflowed with Tiffany’s collections of fine and applied arts from around the world.

The Foundation welcomed artists aged 18 to 80, offering private rooms, shared meals, studios, and access to the grounds for just $10 a week — with fellowships for those unable to pay. Tiffany’s vision rejected rigid academic “schools” in favor of encouraging individuality, imagination, and craftsmanship across painting, sculpture, jewelry, and decorative arts.

While open first to men, the program planned to expand to women and eventually run year-round. Tiffany and his director aimed to create a haven for “real workers” in the arts — those with discipline and dedication — while steering clear of the pitfalls that often plagued artist colonies. However, it wasn't until 1946 that the foundation shifted its focus from operating an artists' retreat to awarding grants to artists that facilitated a more inclusive approach, allowing for the admission of women artists.

About 10 years later in 1957, Laurelton Hall was destroyed by fire and it was no longer in use as an artist's retreat. However, some architectural elements from Laurelton Hall were salvaged and are now preserved at the Charles Hosmer Morse Museum of American Art in Winter Park, Florida. In 2010, the museum opened new galleries to display these artifacts, providing a glimpse into the grandeur of Tiffany's estate.

After the fire that destroyed Louis Comfort Tiffany's Laurelton Hall in 1957, the estate's 600-acre grounds were sold and subdivided. The original mansion was never rebuilt, and much of the land has been developed into residential properties. However, a few remnants of Tiffany's grand estate still exist today, including: The Minaret (Smokestack): The tall, tower-like smokestack from the estate's power plant remains standing. This structure, often referred to as the "minaret," is one of the most visible remnants of Laurelton Hall and is pictured on the left in the background. The Loggia also survived: A loggia, or covered porch, from the estate is one of the last remaining pieces of the original Laurelton Hall.

The Wild Man of Calverton: Beckwith on the Loose in 1894

 

The Wild Man of Calverton: Beckwith on the Loose in 1894

In the spring of 1894, Eastern Long Island was gripped by a strange and unsettling story: a “wild man” was loose in the woods around Riverhead and Calverton. Known to authorities as Arthur Beckwith, a lunatic who had escaped from a private asylum in Flushing, NY called Sanford Hall. Beckwith was described as a 50-year-old man with a dark complexion and a full gray beard — a look not uncommon among rural farmers of the day, which complicated efforts to locate him.

Two New York detectives had been stationed in Riverhead for several weeks, making daily forays into the countryside after scattered reports from frightened locals. Residents were on edge. Children were kept indoors. Strangers were scrutinized.

Farmer Barney Smith of Calverton claimed he spotted the man on Fort Pond Hill. As Smith approached, the wild man dashed into the woods. Smith followed the trail to the long-abandoned Gillett homestead, where signs indicated someone had recently taken shelter.

The next day, Butcher Clark of Calverton had an unexpected visit from a ragged stranger who asked for food. Clark handed over a meal, which the man snatched before sprinting across a field and disappearing into the woods. Clark later suspected he had encountered Beckwith himself.

Fear spread across the community. Rumors swirled that the wild man had stopped several women and children on the road, attempting to kiss them. Although the detectives raised the reward for Beckwith’s capture to $900, few locals were willing to take up the chase, wary of confronting a possibly violent madman.

The old Gillett house was placed under watch. If Beckwith was not apprehended soon, the detectives warned, a formal posse would be organized to scour the woods and bring the wild man to justice.

By 1891, both Arthur and his brother, Leonard Forbes Beckwith, had been committed to asylums. Their once-substantial family estates—Arthur's alone, in 1895 was valued at nearly $500,000 (equivalent to over $18 million today)—were placed under the guardianship of attorney Allen Evarts. Troublingly, there were accusations that Evarts may have misappropriated their funds. Even before this, Leonard had faced allegations of mismanaging their sister Helen’s estate. However, Arthur was also accused of misappropriating his brother's estate! What a mess and I'm sure it was a difficult task to understand the truth behind all of the allegations.

1894 wasn't the first time Arthur was hospitalized for mental illness. A year before, he was a patient of Buell's Sanitarium in Litchfield, CT which he also escaped. He was found in Cuba and brought back to New York City, placed into the asylum in Flushing and then escaped again and sparking this manhunt. 

What really happened behind the closed doors of the Beckwith family's legal and financial affairs? Who were the Beckwiths, and where did their significant fortune originate? There are more questions than answers about a once-prominent family, considered Aristocrats of the time, whose legacy slipped into obscurity—and scandal. 

Leonard and Arthur were the sons of Nelson Marvin Beckwith (pictured), an import merchant of New York City and avid abolitionist. His wife was Frances Forbes. He died at. his residence of 75 5th Ave in NYC, an Avenue with strong ties to the Gilded Age. Sadly his home was demolished by 1926. 

Leonard Forbes Beckwith (1844-1895) became the Chief Engineer of the New York Telephone Company. Leonard and Arthur, together, received a patent for a "Coke Oven" in 1870. At his father's death, Arthur was labeled an Artist, however he may have been confused with another Arthur Beckwith of the time who was, in fact, an artist. 

Arthur was never found again and was presumed officially dead c.1906.

I have to wonder if the Beckwith brothers suffered from mental illness or if all that transpired were a form of control by their family and associates to perhaps gain hold of their fortunes. Did Arthur survive and assume a new identity on Long Island, leaving his fortune behind him? What do you think?

A Sporting Season: Horse-Hunting with Hounds on Long Island, Fall 1916

 A Sporting Season: Horse-Hunting with Hounds on Long Island, Fall 1916

In the fall of 1916, Long Island’s South Shore witnessed a surge in the popularity of horse-hunting with hounds. Prominent hunt clubs such as the Meadow Brook Hunt and the Smithtown Hunt drew large gatherings of skilled riders and eager spectators alike. These hunts, which included both live-fox chases and drag hunts following laid scent trails, became a defining feature of the island’s autumn social and sporting calendar.

Among the devoted participants was Harvey S. Ladew of Brookville, an avid equestrian already riding to hounds by 1914. Ladew embodied the spirit of the sport—elegant, daring, and deeply committed to the tradition of mounted hunting. He would go on to be known nationally for his love of fox hunting and later for creating the famed Ladew Topiary Gardens in Maryland.

The terrain of Nassau and Suffolk Counties demanded bold, agile horses capable of clearing high timber fences at speed. The pace of Long Island hunts was notably fast and thrilling—so much so that Theodore Roosevelt, reflecting on his own experiences with the Meadow Brook pack, compared it to leaping a series of five-bar gates at full gallop.

What began as a pastime for the elite quickly grew into a celebrated spectacle, blending sport, society, and the natural beauty of Long Island’s open countryside. The 1916 season marked a golden era for the island’s hunting culture—one that left a lasting impression on both participants and observers.

🐎 About Harvey S. Ladew

• 
  Harvey Smith Ladew II (1887–1976), originally from Manhattan and Long Island, was an avid fox‑hunting enthusiast beginning around 1914. He hunted extensively on Long Island before moving to Maryland in 1929.

• After World War I, he withdrew from his family’s leather‑goods business and fully embraced equestrian pursuits. He even rode to hounds on both sides of the Atlantic within a remarkable 72‑hour span — flying via amphibious plane to do it.

• Though later known for his Ladew Topiary Gardens in Maryland, his interest in fox hunting was lifelong, particularly during his Long Island years.

Tragedy in the Pines: The Mysterious Death of Arthur McFalls, 1912

 

Tragedy in the Pines: The Mysterious Death of Arthur McFalls, 1912

On a quiet November morning in 1912, the peaceful woods near Brookhaven, Long Island, became the scene of a tragic and haunting discovery.

Arthur McFalls, a 38-year-old hunter and Adirondack guide, was found dead along the Yaphank Road, his head destroyed by a shotgun blast. The weapon lay beside him, and in his hand was a forked stick, apparently used to trigger the gun—a clear sign of a premeditated act. The man who found him was Lorenzo Jones, a local resident of Brookhaven.

A satchel beside McFalls held the key to his identity. Inside were letters, a comb and brush, a drinking glass, and a New York State hunter’s license for 1912 issued in Rondout, NY. Through these belongings, authorities traced McFalls back to his family—most notably a sister, Mrs. William Hart of Tarrytown, New York, and another, Mrs. W. D. Davis of 105 West 45th Street in Manhattan.

McFalls had recently been visiting his half-brother, Charles Maltman, in Yaphank. He left his brother’s home at 8 a.m. on November 6, telling him he was heading to Brookhaven to catch a train back home. He never made it to the station.

A letter found in his satchel confirmed suspicions of suicide. Addressed to his sister in Tarrytown, the note revealed McFalls’s intention to return to “the woods with a light heart.” He bequeathed to her property he owned in Rondout, giving a final, sorrowful glimpse into a man burdened by unknown troubles.

While the details of what led McFalls to take his own life remain a mystery, his story echoes through the pine barrens of Long Island more than a century later—a somber reminder of the personal struggles hidden behind even the most rugged and self-reliant of men.

James Tatterson and the Birth of Bridgehampton’s Cotton and Wool Industry (1805)

 James Tatterson and the Birth of Bridgehampton’s Cotton and Wool Industry (1805)

In 1805, James Tatterson helped usher in a new era of industry in Bridgehampton, Long Island, when he established a cotton and wool manufacturing operation. This early American factory represented a significant technological and economic milestone, especially for a largely agrarian East End community.

An Innovative Industry for Its Time

During the early 1800s, textile manufacturing was still in its infancy in the United States. Tatterson’s work came just a few years after Samuel Slater (pictured) introduced the first water-powered cotton spinning mill in Rhode Island in 1790. Tatterson’s operation, though smaller in scale, followed the same revolutionary path: harnessing water power to spin, card, and process raw fibers into finished materials.

Tatterson secured a U.S. patent on December 7, 1805 for a "Machine for Preparing and Hackling Tow", indicating a mechanical advancement in refining flax or hemp fibers for textile use. This kind of machinery played a crucial role in replacing tedious hand labor with faster, standardized mechanical processing.

Business Partners: John White and Jesse Hedges

Tatterson wasn’t alone in this endeavor. He worked alongside John White and Jesse Hedges, who were also involved in paper manufacturing. While details about White remain scarce, Jesse Hedges appears to have operated a store in Bridgehampton, likely located near or adjacent to the industrial activity around Mill Creek. This creek was not only the site of their manufacturing but also the site of one of Long Island’s earliest water-powered mills.

The Water Mill: From Howell to Industrial Hub

The mill that powered Tatterson’s factory had a long history. It originated with Edward Howell, one of the founding settlers of Southampton in the 1640s. The Town of Southampton granted Howell 40 acres along Mill Creek, and by 1644, a gristmill was likely in full operation. In 1726, permission was granted to move the mill further south along the pond to its current location. A dam and roadway were constructed, laying the groundwork for later industrial use.

By the early 1800s, this historic mill had transitioned from a purely agricultural function to a more industrial role. The consistent water power made it an ideal site for running Tatterson’s hackling machinery and likely supported the paper manufacturing activities of Hedges and White as well.

The Legacy

Though small in size by modern standards, Tatterson’s cotton and wool factory marked an important moment in Long Island’s transition from subsistence agriculture to mechanized industry. It also foreshadowed the larger industrial expansion that would soon sweep across the United States.

Very little remains today of the original buildings, but the legacy of innovation endures through local history and the enduring landmarks of Bridgehampton and Water Mill.

Raising Blue Points: Then and Now in Great South Bay

 

Raising Blue Points: Then and Now in Great South Bay

The rich, briny waters of Long Island’s Great South Bay have long been home to one of the most prized delicacies in American seafood: the Blue Point oyster. A 1909 article from The National Magazine highlighted just how specialized and labor-intensive Blue Point oyster farming was even then—and how strictly regulated the name "Blue Point" had to be.

“Only 9,000 acres are under cultivation in the entire Blue Point district,” the article noted. “Yet from these 9,000 acres come 700,000 bushels of oysters annually… Less than one-sixth of the annual crop is native to Great South Bay.”

The process wasn't about growing oysters from scratch. Instead, juvenile oysters—often from Long Island Sound or Gardiner’s Bay—were brought into the Bay to mature. The water’s unique conditions gave Blue Point oysters their celebrated flavor, shape, and texture. But even in 1909, oyster fraud was rampant: restaurants and distributors were labeling oysters from other regions as “Blue Points.” In response, the New York legislature enacted a law stating:

"No person, firm or corporation shall...sell any oysters under the name of Blue Point oysters other than oysters that have been planted and cultivated at least three months in the waters of the Great South Bay in Suffolk County."

The term Blue Point became legally protected—at least within New York State.

A Short History: The Rise, Fall, and Return of Great South Bay Oysters

According to the article, native oysters in the Bay began disappearing around 1810, and by the 1820s, they were nearly extinct. Prices skyrocketed, and large, old oysters became almost mythical in size. Around 1850, Captain Joseph Avery, a resident of Blue Point, revived the bay's industry by importing seed oysters from Virginia in Blue Point near his childhood home. These successfully spawned, reestablishing the bay as a fertile ground for cultivation.

Blue Point Oysters Today

As of recent data, Blue Point oyster farming still thrives, though on a smaller, more sustainable scale and they are not biologically the same as when they were first planted. Unfortunately, the Hurricane of 1938 wiped out the original harvested oyster species. However, Suffolk County oyster growers today focus on high-quality, boutique production over volume as they were originally intended.

• Estimated current production: Approximately 1 million to 1.5 million oysters per year are marketed under the true "Blue Point" name.

• Area under cultivation: Still roughly 9,000 acres in Great South Bay.

• Employment: Hundreds of workers are still involved in planting, harvesting, and distribution, many of them family-run operations.

Thanks to improved environmental protections, local stewardship, and consumer demand for authenticity, Blue Point oysters have retained their prestige in the culinary world. True Blue Points are now a symbol of Long Island heritage and sustainable aquaculture.

From Modest Beginnings to Million-Dollar Real Estate: The Story Behind 342 E. 29th Street and the Vision of Bernhard von Rappaport

 

From Modest Beginnings to Million-Dollar Real Estate: The Story Behind 342 E. 29th Street and the Vision of Bernhard von Rappaport

Today’s historic spotlight takes us to 342 E. 29th Street in Brooklyn, a modest yet million-dollar home that tells a far grander story than its quiet facade suggests. Built in 1899, this unassuming residence was once home to Bernhard von Rappaport and his wife Susan, key figures behind the Rappaport Realty Co.

Although difficult to fully appreciate through a modern Google Street View, the house stands as a symbol of early 20th-century Brooklyn architecture and the foundation of a family legacy that would help shape suburban Long Island.

A Real Estate Visionary

Bernhard von Rappaport wasn’t just a Brooklyn homeowner—he was a real estate mogul with an eye for opportunity and community development. By 1939, he had already made his mark across several neighborhoods including Flatbush, Bay Ridge, and Bethpage.

That year, local papers reported on one of Rappaport’s most ambitious projects: the Bethpage Parkway Estates.

"Sales of 10 homes since Columbus Day in the new Bethpage Parkway Estates on Hempstead Turnpike at Bethpage, were reported today by B. V. Rappaport, builder..."

The Birth of Bethpage Estates

These homes, located adjacent to the entrance of Bethpage State Park, were designed to be affordable yet stylish, attracting weekend crowds and eager buyers. Designed by Carl Salminen, a Flushing-based architect, the homes reflected English and Colonial influences and came in both bungalow and two-story styles.

Priced around $3,300—the equivalent of roughly $70,000 today—each home featured:

• A large living room, dining room, kitchen, and two bedrooms

• Space for two additional rooms upstairs

• A detached garage

• 60x100 landscaped lots

• Modern amenities like brass and copper plumbing, fully equipped linoleum kitchens, and poured concrete waterproofed foundations

Streets and sidewalks were also installed, making it a fully planned and livable neighborhood from the start.

A Builder with Vision

By the time of this 1939 article, Mr. Rappaport had:

• Filed plans for 26 more homes

• Already begun construction on 12

• Was completing foundations for another 12

• Controlled more than 800 lots in the area

He wasn’t just building homes—he was building neighborhoods.

From Brooklyn Brownstone to Long Island Dream

The story of 342 E. 29th Street is a powerful reminder that real estate history isn’t just about buildings—it’s about the people who dreamed big, saw possibilities where others didn’t, and changed the fabric of our communities.

Next time you pass by a quiet Brooklyn street or a suburban Long Island block, think of Mr. Rappaport and the legacy he left—starting from a modest home in Brooklyn and growing into a builder of dreams.

Do you live in one of the homes built in the Bethpage Estates? I would love to see a picture or hear a story from you!