The Grant House
Brooklyn Life was a magazine chronicling the activities of the borough’s blue bloods from 1890 to 1931. I came across a copy dated June 15, 1895, the annual summer “Outing Number.” Flipping through its moldering pages, I came across a lively article titled “Some Notable Summer Hotels.” It offered a broad survey “in picture and print of some of the more notable of the great houses which for the next few months will be the homes of thousands of people of wealth and refinement.” Listed among these esteemed resorts was the Grant House, “situated on the southern edge of Jefferson Heights in the village of Catskill, about three hundred feet above tide water, overlooking the famous valley of the Hudson and the Catskill Mountains.”
Despite its proximity to my longtime home in the Land of Rip Van Winkle, I had never heard of the Grant House before. It was time to look into a bit of its history. So I drove down the mountain to the Vedder Research Library in Coxsackie to poke around in the archives of the Greene County Historical Society.
Back in the day, the Grant House was one of the premier hostelries in the region, rivaling its competitors—the Catskill Mountain House and Hotel Kaaterskill—in luxury if not in elevation. The structure was put up in 1868, very close to a spot favored by the late Thomas Cole for its prospect. He made at least ten paintings based upon the view from here, including the celebrated River in the Catskills (1843). The artist, however, was no enthusiast of 19th century “progress” and likely would not have welcomed the sprawling hotel with its accommodations for three hundred guests and 
their servants. As described in the Brooklyn Life article: “The grounds of the hotel embrace about thirty acres, carefully laid out in walks, drives, etc.; a large orchard of fifteen hundred fruit trees—apples, cherries, pears, etc., in abundance, ‘in their season.’” The hotel was also renowned for its cuisine. In the Historical Society archives, I came across a brochure for the 1902 season at the Grant House, in which it is announced: “Mr. Leon Despland, proprietor and manager of the Hotel Despland, Daytona, Fla., has been engaged as steward, and will bring with him a competent chef and staff. Every assurance is given that the table this year will be beyond criticism.” The brochure’s author also points out that “the water used at the hotel is from a pure spring on the hotel grounds” and the golf course was “undoubtedly the best hotel course in the Catskills.” Other amusements for guests included: “Good fishing for black bass, pickerel and trout in the creek, lakes and mountain streams; Hunting for rail, snipe and ducks on the Hudson in September; Music morning and evening, dancing every evening and a Saturday night hop; Billiards, bowling, ping-pong and croquet; also a fine tennis court on which two tournaments are annually played.” The hotel’s popularity continued through the years. An article in the Brooklyn Eagle dated August 18th, 1923 mentioned that a “mammoth clown carnival is taking place at the Grant House lawn this afternoon.” And on the same day, the New York Times reported that by evening the blue blood merrymakers had moved inside and were “frolicking at a masquerade in the ballroom.” The Grant House sure sounds like it was a fun place.
Disheartening then to discover that this venerable hostelry burned to the ground on the very evening of the reported clown carnival: Saturday, August 18th, 1923. A fire broke out around 10:30
p.m. due to faulty wiring in a tower atop the fourth floor of the hotel. The flames spread rapidly. At the time, most of the guests were frolicking in the ballroom. Their revels were brought to an abrupt halt. The now-bewildered rollickers were ushered out in surprisingly orderly fashion. A few who had retired early were roused from their slumbers and fled to lawn in their nightclothes. Miraculously, no lives were lost. “The fire was a most spectacular one,” reported a local newspaper, “being seen for miles around, situated as it was on high ground. Not a stick of this handsome structure was to be seen the next morning, all that remained of the building being sheets of tin which composed the roof, and the bricks of the chimneys—truly a complete loss.” Well, not a complete loss—the laundry building and the ice-house were saved, and the lighter shrubbery suffered only a mild searing, “but the handsome elms about the grounds are thought to have been killed by the intense heat.” The reporter notes that the Grant House “commanded one of the most extensive views of any hotel in the Catskill region . . . truly a wonderful location, and Catskillians will hail with joy the fact that a modern fire-
proof hotel is among the possibilities for the future.” Alas, that’s not quite what happened.
The Grant House was woefully under-insured and the cost of rebuilding was far beyond the owner’s means. It wasn’t long before he sold the property to the county, which needed a site for a new hospital. The 25-bed Greene County Memorial Hospital opened its doors in 1932. It operated for more than sixty years, serving residents and visitors alike, before being consolidated with the hospital across the river in Hudson and services moved over there.
Today the old Greene County Memorial Hospital building still stands in Jefferson Heights, though barely recognizable amid the hodgepodge of architecturally regrettable additions that have been tacked onto it over the years. This ungainly structure now houses a medical arts complex. Next door is a rest home that touts on its web page “exquisite landscaping” and “gracious surroundings.” Past the rest home is a line of unkempt vegetation, behind which is a small pet cemetery fallen into desuetude. A short walk from there leads to an apartment complex, then a funeral parlor. Such are the present-day establishments that occupy the grounds of the erstwhile Grant House. Somewhere, on the far side of all this progress, one can still find that notable prospect favored by Thomas Cole.
©John P. O’Grady
Originally appeared in The Mountain Eagle on June 8, 2018
