This is related … sort of…
In Riverside Park #MyNeighborhood once stood The Claremont, a "charming" country inn. Originally a private residence--from 1860 until it closed in 1948, it was a retreat of sorts from the heart of the city. Located in what was once called by most “Harlem Heights,” The Claremont stood on one of the highest pieces of ground on the upper western part of the island of Manhattan. The spot was, in fact, the site of a tavern in colonial times and closeby the location of The Battle of Harlem Heights (fought on September 15, 1776).
The Claremont featured a large garden terrace on its south side where dances were held (today there is a playground in that spot). The Color Photo I took while standing on what would have been the front lawn of The Claremont. Fog completely hides The Hudson River in the background though large trees (also hidden in the photo) also mainly hide the view of the water even on clear days now. The Black & White photo is from a 1902 Postcard of the inn. The ground plaque is also pictured and reads: "Site of the Claremont Inn. Erected in 1788 as a residence, the building became a public tavern before the Civil War. It was acquired by the city in 1875 and was operated as a restaurant until its demolition."
Of course much of the history of the spot goes untold in the brevity of plaques and signs - so too with short little essays like this. For example, The house, before it became an inn, was entangled in international happenings, Napoleónic ones at that. In 1808 Napoleon Bonaparte successfully invaded and took control of the seat of Spanish government, sending King Ferdinand VII into exile and house arrest in France. Napoleon then placed his brother Joseph on the Spanish throne. The Spanish despised the invader monarch, calling him Pepe Botellas (Joe Bottles) and were all too glad to see him flee in 1813 when his brother’s fortunes failed and Ferdinand returned.
Unfortunately for the Spanish, King Pepe absconded with a good deal of the Crown Jewels and made his way to New York City where, you guessed it — he purchased The Claremont, where he lived in opulence, with the mansion serving as a headquarters for exiled and expatriate French elites. Eventually as do so many, he moved out of town and across the river to New Jersey.
The Claremont was in its heyday as a destination in the late 1800s into the early 20th century. Before it became part of Riverside Park the promontory was breezy, cool, and chic. The grande patio could seat hundreds and bands played and high society danced. Like so many things entertaining, fundamentalism crushed The Claremont and it was dealt a death blow by Prohibition. Now the tomb of Ulysses Grant is the only prominent memorial in the area (though a few plaques remind the most curious of past glories). In 1875 the city purchased the enterprise but by the late 1940s administrators decided to demolish it and today dog walkers, children playing, and Central American volleyballers tread cluelessly over the history. I circle Grant’s Tomb and pass through the ghost of The Claremont most days now though and I do my best to imagine. Maybe one day I’ll pour out a glass there in honor of Joe Bottles.
