The Dr. John E. and Katherine MacKenty House - 111 East 61st Street

 

Adolphus Smedberg and his wife, the former Mary Ludlow Morton, were both born in 1835.  They had a son, Harry Ashton, and were living in the newly built, brownstone-fronted house at 111 East 61st Street in 1872 when their second son, Adolphus, Jr., was born.  Apparently sharing the residence with the Smedbergs were Adolphus's sister and her husband.  William Adams, Smedberg's brother-in-law, died here on January 21, 1876 at the age of 61.

The Smedbergs appear to have moved in 1878, when Harry was attending Columbia.  The following year, the Ellison family occupied the house, and by the mid-1880s, it was home to the Wattles family.  On December 23, 1886, the New-York Tribune announced, "Mrs. Wattles held a large reception and tea yesterday from 4 until 6 o'clock, at No. 111 East Sixty-first-st., to introduce her daughter, Miss Wattles.  Over two hundred guests called."

Harris D. and Elizabeth B. Colt, real estate operators, purchased the "four-story stone front dwelling," as reported by the Real Estate Record & Guide, in 1901.  They leased it to a succession of well-to-do families.

In an article titled "Some Recent Flittings" on November 11, 1906, for instance, The New York Times noted, "Mr. and Mrs. John Wesley Peale [moved] to their new house, 111 East Sixty-first Street."  

Following the Peales here were Charles A. Shearson, his wife, the former Jessie McCullough, and their adopted son, Charles, Jr.  Born in Galt, Ontario, Canada in 1856, Shearson came to New York in 1903.  He was a member of the New York Cotton Exchange and a partner in the cotton brokerage firm of Shearson, Hammill & Co.  His brother, Edward, also lived in the East 61st Street house.

In the early 20th century, births, deaths, and minor operations took place within the homes of the affluent.  On the evening of January 22, 1910, the 54-year-old Edward A. Shearson, Sr. underwent an appendicitis operation in his bedroom.  He did not survive.

In August the following year, Arthur A. Fowler and his wife, the former Elizabeth Bonright, signed a lease.  They appear to have remained here until May 29, 1919, when the house was sold to Dr. Alfred Wild Gardener and his wife, Mary E., for $60,000 (about $1 million in 2025 terms).

Shortly after Mary's death in February 1923, Dr. Wild sold 111 East 61st Street to Dr. John Edmund MacKenty and his wife, the former Katherine Gilman.  Before moving in, they hired architect Edward S. Hewitt to drastically remodel the outdated brownstone.

Hewitt stripped off the facade, removed the stoop, and pulled the front forward to the property line.  The new projected portion rose four stories.  The fifth floor sat back to provide a screened sleeping porch.  Hewitt's spartan neo-Georgian design included a handsome marble entrance with engaged columns and an elegant swan's neck pediment and urn.  The Flemish bond brick of the upper floors were trimmed with marble sills and reeded lintels, their ends decorated with carved rosettes.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Born in 1869, MacKenty married Katherine in 1898 in Washington D.C.  She was the daughter of Colonel Jeremiah H. Gilman and Katharine Rogers.  The couple had two children, John Gilman, and Katharine (known familiarly as Kit).  Kit was married to Reverend Wilhelminus B. Bryan, Jr. and lived in Springfield, Massachusetts.

Dr. John Edmund MacKenty had joined the medical faculty of McGill University in 1892.  He was now the senior surgeon at the Manhattan Eye, Ear and Throat Hospital.  His medical office on the ground floor was part of the renovations to 111 East 61st Street.  In 1925, the year they moved in, he invented a device that enabled "a person whose larynx had been removed to speak," as described by the New York Evening Post.  

It may have been Katherine's growing up in a military family that prompted her interest in the Army Relief Society.  In 1925, she was elected assistant treasurer of the organization.  She was also highly involved in the Women's City Club.  That same year, she was elected its director.

John Gilman MacKenty had graduated from the Sheffield Scientific School of Yale University in 1923.  When the family moved into 111 East 61st Street, he was working with the Radio Corporation of America (later RCA).  On February 27, 1926, his engagement to Katharine Walker was announced.  His marriage would not only add another Katharine to the family, but another connection to the military.  Katharine's grandfather was Colonel Aldace F. Walker.

Dr. MacKenty routinely submitted technical articles to medical journals, and in 1927 published two books, Cancer of the Larynx and Nursing in Diseases of the Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat.

On the night of December 11, 1931, MacKenty died in the East 61st Street house.  He was 62 years old.

Katherine leased the ground floor office to Dr. Otto V. M. Schmidt.  She remained here until suffering a fatal heart attack on November 29, 1938 at the age of 62.  Her funeral was held in the house on December 1.

On April 27, 1939, The New York Sun reported that Katherine MacKenty's estate had sold 111 East 61st Street to Regency Hall, Inc.  The article described the residence as "containing fifteen rooms and four baths," adding, "The house will be used for combination residence and doctor's office."

The office was used by several physicians.  Dr. William Lawrence Gatewood was here in 1946, and Drs. George A. Friedman and Nathan Millman were listed here in 1948 and 1949 respectively.

The end of the upper floors as a single-family home came in 1953 when they were converted to apartments.  Doctors in the ground floor office came and went throughout the subsequent years, perhaps the longest to remain being Dr. Percy Ryberg, here in the 1960s and '70s.

There are still apartments above the doctor's office today.  Although callous replacement windows disfigure Hewitt's neo-Georgian design, the house otherwise looks much as it did when the MacKentys remodeled the vintage 1870s rowhouse.

photograph by the author

A Tenement, A Saloon and a Synagogue - 169 Suffolk Street

 

Having a secondary structure in one's rear yard in the early 19th century was common.  It might be a workshop--carpenter or blacksmith shop, for instance--or a small stable or house for rental income.  But by mid-century the demographics of the neighborhood around Suffolk and East Houston Streets was teeming with newly-arrived immigrants, resulting in the rear building at 169 Suffolk Street to be much different that those early examples.

The brick-faced house at 169 Suffolk Street was erected around 1853.  It was 23-feet wide and three stories tall above an English basement.  The tenement building in the rear was two stories taller.  The sharing of a building lot with a house and a tenement seems to have been unusual, bordering on unique.  A horsewalk at sidewalk level that tunneled through the front house provided access to the rear building.

The horsewalk can been clearly seen in this 1941 photograph.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The main house was shared by at least two working-class German families in 1853.  Henry Keofman was listed as a "pedler," and Louis Rosenberg was a tinsmith.  While not affluent, the occupants were not impoverished, as was reflected in an advertisement in the New York Herald on November 8, 1855:

Dog Lost--A large white poodle, with black ears and black round spot on back.  A liberal reward will be paid on returning him to 169 Suffolk street, third floor.

Among the residents that year was Charles Hoffman, who listed his profession broadly as "music."  He would remain here at least through 1859.  At least eight families, all German, occupied the rear building that year.  Three were shoe or boot makers--Christien Brenck, Frederick Hein, and Reinhard Vogel.  Two, Nicolas Gering and Peter Ruffer, were cabinetmakers.  The others were Andrew Buhring, a cigar maker; Conrad Groh, a tailor; and Antoine Shultz, a smith.  

A major tenement fire on Elm Street in 1860 initiated a law that required buildings that housed eight or more families to have fire escapes.  The rear building at 169 Suffolk Street received a violation in 1863 and a subsequent visit by the inspector noted, "fire-escapes in course of construction."

 

At the time of the inspection, Conrad Groh had occupied his rooms in the tenement for at least five years and, surprisingly, would remain for decades.  His rooms were held for him, apparently, when he left the next year to fight in the Civil War.  Groh was not the only resident to serve.  In 1864, William Herwig, Phillip Buehler, William Dieterlich, Casper Hoffman and John Ehrhard joined him in enlisting in the Union Army.

Nine families were crowded into the front house in 1861.  Among them was Joseph Becherer, a turner (a person who made wooden spindles and such on a lathe).  Two others, turner John Ehrhard and Leonard Pfaff, who listed his profession as "sawing," worked with Becherer at 171 Suffolk Street.  

The three men assuredly knew Paul Kratt and Andrew Schwarzwalder.  Kratt ran a beer saloon at 171 Suffolk Street and Schwarzwalder made fishing rods at the address.  By 1864, Paul Kratt had moved his saloon to the basement of 169 Suffolk Street and he and his wife, Eva, moved into the main house.  By 1867 Andrew Schwartzwalder and his family were also  living here.

Paul Kratt had problems in keeping on the right side of the law, at least initially.  On April 23, 1867, The New York Times reported that he had been arrested for keeping his saloon open on election day, and on June 16 the following year, the newspaper reported that he had been arrested for having the bar open on Sunday.

The two buildings continued to house mostly German-born working class tenants.  In 1880, Conrad Groh (who happily had survived the war) was still listed in the rear building after more than two decades.  Among his neighbors in the building were three carpenters, a framer, a shoemaker, and a tailor.  Similarly, sharing the front house with the Kratts were another saloon owner, Bernard Neuberger, two shoemakers and a tailor.  

Emma Wilkenson and her husband had a baby in February that year, whom they named William.  Emma worked as a servant at 445 West 56th Street.  She was arrested there on September 12, 1880.  The previous evening, seven-month-old William "died suddenly and under suspicious circumstances," as reported by The Evening Post.  Emma was arrested "on suspicion of having caused the child's death."

Emma's employer promised that if she were released, he would make certain that she would be present at the coroner's inquest.  Happily for the young mother, The Evening Post reported, "An examination made by the Coroner satisfied him that the child died from natural causes."

Paul Kratt died in 1881 and his intrepid widow took over the business.  Eva Kratt was listed as the owner of the saloon as late as 1892.

The conditions within the rear tenement were not necessarily as wretched as so many others at the time.  When the wife of one family had their fifth baby in 1888, the Society of the Lying-In Hospital visited their rooms, supplied help, and reported the situation:

 Rooms clean and tidy.  Husband a tailor out of work; was taking care of his wife and four small children.  No one to attend to patient.  Nurse will visit her every day and bathe the baby.  Scrub-woman to scrub and wash.  Have baby clothes, diet ticket and 25 cents for soup.  Second visit, scrub-woman busy.  All clean and the clothes washed.

Boys of tenement families went to work by, at least, their teen years.  Joseph Rauch, who was 16 in 1894, worked as an apprentice for a printer on Worth Street.  On January 18 that year, his employer sent him to purchase a "large can full of turpentine, to be used in the office," as reported by The Evening World.  Rauch was "lugging" the can back to the office when he was surrounded by 12 teens "who guyed him because he had to work while they could play," said the article.

One boy snatched his hat and ran away and another put a chunk of ice down the back of his shirt.  A third tried to wrest the can of turpentine from him.  In the struggle, the cork few off and Rauch's coat sleeve was saturated with the turpentine.  Despite the attacks, Joseph Rauch continued on his way, until Frank Mania sneaked up from behind and dropped a lighted match into the open can.

The Evening World reported, "Immediately there was an explosion that frightened the boys so that they all ran away."  Rauch's turpentine-soaked coat sleeve ignited.  The newspaper titled its article, "Rauch Was A Human Torch" and said he screamed, dropped the can and ran with a "stream of fire flaring in the air."  Fortunately, a cool-headed passerby put out the fire, but not before Rauch's arm and hand were badly burned.  Frank Mania was tracked down and arrested, but he was released the following morning for lack of evidence.

The Suffolk Street property was sold in April 1898 to Morgan J. O'Brien, who owned several tenement buildings.  The Kratt saloon became home to a tie manufacturer.  The following year, on August 24, a help-wanted advertisement in the New York Journal and Advertiser sought, "Operators on ties.  Friedman, 169 Suffolk st."

John Huttner lived here in 1904 with his wife and four children.  The 40-year-old worked as a driver at the coal yard of Muhlenberg & Co. on South Street.  He suffered a horrific accident on July 12 that year.  The New York Times said he was taking a load of coal from the yard when he was somehow thrown from the wagon to the ground.  The article said, "the wheels of the cart passed over him, killing him instantly."

Following Morgan J. O'Brien's death, his properties were sold at auction on February 14, 1907.  The announcement described 169 Suffolk Street as "the three-story and basement front and five-story rear brick tenements."

Among the tenants in 1910 were Nathan Hyman, a buttonhole maker, and his family.  A string of incidents that year caused Hyman excruciating misery.  It started with a city-wide cloakmakers strike that put him out of work and he fell behind in his rent.  Then, in August his wife died and a few days later Katherine K. Phelan, his landlady, summoned him to court on a eviction notice.

Hyman appeared in court on September 1.  He faced the judge weeping.  Justice Snitkin asked, "What's the matter?"  The New York Times recounted, "While he remained in his house mourning the seven days that is required by Jewish law he was summoned to court.  He was weeping because he had been forced to break this law, he said."

In 1915, Julius Bleiberg moved his plumbing business into the basement level.  His occupancy would be short lived.  He moved in 1917.  Assuredly it was because the property had been sold the previous year to Anshei Polen Talmud Torah congregation.  While the rear building continued to be rented as a tenement, the house was converted to a synagogue and yeshiva.

In 1918, the yeshiva had 100 boy students and three teachers.  Described by The Jewish Communal Register of New York City as a "communal weekday school," its pupils studied from 4:00 to 7:00 on weekday evenings, and from 10 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. on Sundays.

The congregation added a new cornice crowned with Stars of David.  image via the NYC Dept. of Records & Information Services.

The president of Anshei Polen Talmud Torah at the time was Henry Michael Greenberg, who was born in Russia in 1852.  He immigrated to the United States in 1872 and became president in 1914.

Among the residents of the rear building in 1936 were Sam Katz, who was annually listed by Government as a Communist Party sympathizer, and Steve Czoney.  The 53-year-old Czoney invited two friends over, William Chma and Samuel Womowsky, on September 7 that year when things got out of hand.  The following day, The New York Times reported that Chma and Czoney were "in critical condition today at Gouverneur Hospital from stab wounds allegedly inflicted by Samuel Womowsky."  (Womowsky was arrested and how his victims fared is unclear.)

By the Depression years, the synagogue was home to the Ottynier Society and the Society of Gwozelte.  The building was threatened on June 6, 1938 during Shavuoth services.  The Evening Post reported that during the Ottynier Society's services in the basement, "Burning wax set fire to a newly painted candelabrum, and the flames spread to a wall."  The New York Times said, "While six prayer-shawled members  carried out the Torah scrolls, about forty other worshipers fled to the street."  

Firefighters extinguished the blaze, which left "slight damage," according to The Evening Post.  The New York Times added, "In rooms directly above the basement, seventy five members of the Society of Gwozelte continued a similar service undisturbed."

The synagogue left in the second half of the century and in 1972 the building was converted to one apartment and a "fine art studio" on each floor, according to Department of Buildings records.  It was most likely during the renovations that the cornice was removed.  (The rear building was demolished in 1940.)  

photographs by the author

The 1852 Catherine Stapleton House - 321 Second Avenue

 

The upper floor windows were almost assuredly originally framed in stone.  photograph by Ted Leather

The first of the mansions that would encircle Gramercy Park (or Gramercy Place as it was sometimes called) began rising in the early 1840s.  A decade later, the high-tone tenor of the neighborhood had spread northward and in 1852 a row of identical homes were erected by the wealthy Stuyvesant family along the western side of Second Avenue between 18th and 19th Streets.

Four stories tall, they were two bays wide.  Unlike the English basement style homes that were proliferating throughout the city, their Anglo-Italianate design forewent high stoops.  Their arched entrances sat just above the sidewalk.

Likely a full-width cast iron balcony originally fronted the second floor windows.  photograph by Ted Leather

No. 321 Second Avenue became home to dressmaker Catherine Stapleton, who was most likely a widow.  The best of the dressmakers at the time created the wardrobes of wealthy socialites and earned significant incomes.  Catherine had a boarder in 1853, Samuel Durand, a moulder (a maker of castings or, sometimes, a brickmaker).  He may have occupied the smaller house in the rear yard.

Boarding with Catherine Stapleton by 1859 were Hannah Merritt Smith and Joseph Seymour Mathews, his wife Elizabeth, and their infant daughter, Fannie.  Mary Cleary, the widow of James Cleary, occupied the rear house.  Catherine Stapleton offered the parlor on June 5 that year for Hannah Smith's wedding to Caleb Green Dunn.

J. Seymour Mathews was a commissioner of deeds and an engrossing clerk within the Aldermen's Office.  (As an engrossing clerk he checked departmental entries for accuracy.)  He received a bonus of sorts on December 1, 1859 of $250 "for extra services," according to the Proceedings of the Board of Aldermen.  The windfall would translate to about $9,730 in 2025.

In June 1860, Manhattan society was captivated by the arrival of the first Japanese Delegation of the United States.  The 76 ambassadors were called "the Japanese princes," by newspapers.  J. Seymour Mathews was given a crushing responsibility.  He and Simon Myers were appointed "the principals in charge of the visit."

On June 30, 1860, five days after the the Japanese delegation left New York, Charles DeForest Fredricks created this portrait of Simon Myers and J. Seymour Mathews (right).  from the collection of Getty Museum.

Catherine Stapleton's parlor was the scene of little Fannie Mathews's funeral on December 5, 1861.  She died on December 3, one day after her second birthday.

Three months later, Joseph Seymour Mathews died here on March 19, 1862 at the age of 38.  His funeral was held in the Seventh Street Methodist Episcopal Church near Third Avenue.

By 1868, Thomas Ingham, an iron merchant, and his family occupied 321 Second Avenue and would remain until 1875 when Felix Marx moved in.  Marx ran an "eatinghouse" at 185 Church Street at the time.  By 1879 his son, J. L. Marx had joined him and they opened a second restaurant at 438 Broome Street.

Felix Marx leased 321 Second Avenue in 1881 to G. F. Abraham, who operated it as a boarding house.  Among his initial tenants was Rev. Griffith H. Humphrey.  The 32-year-old bachelor had been the pastor of the Welsh Presbyterian Church on East 13th Street for four years.  The Sun described the young minister as "a tall, slender man, with a full brown beard."  

In July 1882, Laura A. Jones came to New York from Llanberis, Wales.  She found a room in a boarding house on Eighth Avenue and became a member of the Welsh Presbyterian Church.  The Sun reported, "She was looking for employment and made frequent calls with this object on Mr. Humphrey at his residence, 321 Second Avenue."  The newspaper said, "He says he requested her not to call so often."  Her repeated visits, however, resulted in "much talk about their acquaintance."  By the early months of 1883, rumors were so rampant that Humphrey "requested the church to investigate the matter," according to The Sun.

Laura Jones was interviewed by church elders in April.  She told them that Rev. Humphrey had proposed marriage.  A few days later, she wrote to the deacons and retracted her statement.  Then, a few days after that, she asserted that Humphrey had again proposed to her.  When called to testify to that in person, she again retracted her statements.  She was expelled from the church "for falsehood."

With her out of the picture, Humphrey most likely thought he was free from scandal.  In the summer of 1883 he was married.  But Laura Jones reappeared.  On December 17 she sued Humphrey for $10,000 for breach of promise (about $323,000 today).  Her illegitimate child was born on December 30.

Rev. Humphreys was arrested at his residence on February 13, 1884 "on Miss Jones's complaint that he was the father of her child."  She told the court that "she had no means of support and was likely to become a charge on the county."  The trial revealed shocking testimony.  Boarders in the house where Laura Jones lived said they had seen her in bed with Ellis Owens, another boarder.  A Mrs. Crook testified that when Laura was first in a "delicate condition," she "asked her about Mr. Humphrey, and Miss Jones said there had never been anything wrong between them."  Rev. Griffith H. Humphrey was absolved of any crime.

Living here in the early 1890s were T. R. Fell, a stenographer who worked in the Mayor's Office; and Charles Walton, who worked for a painter and decorating firm.  Walton was estranged from his wife.  His employer, Leopold Freund, was known to the courts for abusing his employees with litigation.  The Evening World said Freund "has come to be known as a professional complainant."

Early in July 1894, Freund procured a summons on a charge "of stealing a pair of overalls" against Walton.  Walton did not appear in court and so on July 13, a court officer appeared at 321 Second Avenue.  The New York Times reported, "At Walton's home...he was told that the man he sought was at his wife's home, 116 Seventh Street."  What he was not told was that Walton was dead.

The article said that when the officer arrived to the wife's home, he "found preparations for a funeral in progress."  The article said:

The woman who answered the door bell explained that when Walton was served with a summons he took it so much to heart he went to his room and killed himself by inhaling gas.  Walton had lived apart from his wife, but when she heard of his death she had his body brought to her home.

The same day, Freud appeared in court against another employee, Henry Paul, whom he accused of stealing painting materials.  In the courtroom were friends of Walton who told the judge "that Freund had hounded the old man and thus drove him to suicide."  Justice McMahon responded by dismissing the complaint against Paul and ordered Freund out of court.  "You have fooled this Court long enough and you will do so no longer," he said.

Nellie Thomas worked as a salesperson and lived here as early as 1904.  Starting around 1902, John A. Price, a theatrical agent, became enamored with her.  On January 21, 1905, The Sun said, "for the past three years he has been paying court to Miss Thomas with poor success."  In fact, Price had become what today would be called a stalker.  The article said, "His attentions became so annoying that she caused his arrest six months ago, and he was put under bonds to keep the peace."

"Under bonds" was what today would be known as a restraining order.  During that time, Nellie began dating a young man.  On January 19, 1905--the same date that the restraining order expired--the two went out.  They were walking along East 17th Street when Price appeared.

"Hello, Nell.  Don't you love me any more?" he said.

"Don't you speak to me.  I don't want anything to do with you," she replied.

"I love you as the flowers love the sun.  You are driving me crazy, and I don't care what happens to me unless I get you for my wife.  Shoot me, throw me in the river, but don't say you won't be my wife.  Chase this young fellow away and say you love me."

Nellie said, "I've told you dozens of times that I'd never marry you.  If you speak to me again, I'll have you arrested."

At the time, Detective Bradley was walking on the opposite side of the street.  He later testified that he "saw Price raise a heavy cane and strike the young woman on the head with it.  The blow cut her scalp open and knocked her to the sidewalk."  Price ran down the street with Nellie's companion and Bradley in pursuit.  He was arrested a few blocks later.

Nellie's head wound needed stitches.  Later she signed a formal complaint.  In court Price told the judge, "Yes, I'm guilty.  Do with me as you like.  If I can't get my Nell, I don't want to live."

Nellie asked the prisoner, "Why did you beat me so?"

"Because I love you.  Do as you like with me."

Then, as is often the case with the victims of physical abuse and emotional control, Nellie began to soften.  She told the court, "He wants to marry me, Judge."

The magistrate responded, "So he tried to woo you with a club, eh?"

"It was only a cane, Judge, and I don't know as I want to press the complaint."

Nellie sat for a few moments, then walked over to Price.  "The two began talking earnestly," reported The Sun.  Nellie approached the bench and said, "Judge, we are going to get married.  Jack is a good fellow, and I know he didn't mean any harm."  The pair left the courtroom together.

On August 14, 1920, The New York Times reported that the Rutherfurd Stuyvesant estate had sold "the four-story dwelling 321 Second Avenue to Henry Braveman."  When he sold it a month later, the Record & Guide described the property as a "four-story tenement house."

In 1941 the stone details had been removed and the third floor windows shortened.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The building was renovated in 1922 to bachelor apartments.  The Certificate of Occupancy demanded, "not more than two families cooking independently on premises."  It was likely during the remodeling that the stone frames of the windows were replaced by brick.

photograph by Ted Leather

There were subsequent renovations over the next decades.  Today there are five apartments in the building.

many thanks to reader Ted Leather for suggesting this post

The 1827 James R. Sayre House- 29 Charlton Street

 

A mason, James R. Sayre erected a home for himself and his family at 29 Charlton Street in 1826.  At the time, the former country estate on which it stood was seeing a flurry of development as dozens of Federal-style residences similar to Sayre's were being built.  Moving into the new house with the Sayre family were James Barnes, a mason, and John Voorhees, who was a carpenter.  It is quite possible that the two men helped build 29 Charlton Street.

Similar to its neighbors, the house was two-and-a-half stories tall.  Faced in Flemish bond brick, its peaked roof would have had two dormers.  The single-doored entrance below a handsome leaded transom was framed by delicate rope molding.

The house became home to another mason, James Webb, in the mid-1830s.  His family, too, took in a boarder.  In 1836 it was David King, a carter.  By 1845, James Webb had moved down the block to 43 Charlton Street and No. 29 was occupied by Thomas D. Rice, an actor.  

Eliphalet Bootman and his family purchased the house around 1850.  Born in 1803, Bootman was a partner in the painting firm Bootman & Smith, which had offices at 309 Spring Street and 31 Corlears Slip.  Highly involved in public education, for years Eliphalet was a commissioner of the Board of Education.

He and his wife, Catharine G., had two sons, Robert W. and Lieff.  Both young men worked in their father's business, Robert as the firm's accountant.  While it appears his parents worshiped at St. John's Chapel,  Robert was involved with St. Ambrose Church on the corner of Prince and Thompson Streets.  In 1852, he was appointed the treasurer of The Friendly Society of St. Ambrose Church.

Living with the family by 1859 was Snap, a "black and tan dog."  On November 13 that year, the Bookmans placed an ad in the New York Herald, saying that Snap had been lost or stolen.  They offered a $5 reward (about $190 in 2025) to anyone returning him.

In 1860, Eliphalet took over the operation of Bootman & Smith, renaming it E. Bootman & Sons.  Lieff no longer lived with the family at the time, suggesting that he had married.

Around 1862, Bookman raised the attic to a full floor.  His builder, somewhat surprisingly, carried on the Flemish bond brickwork.  Rather than a foliate-bracketed cornice, so popular at the time, the house received a simple wooden cornice with no-nonsense corbels.

Eliphalet Bookman died on November 4, 1869 at the age of 66.  His funeral, interestingly, was not held in the parlor of the family's home, but at St. John's Chapel. 

Shortly afterward, Elizabeth Thompson moved into the house with Robert and Catharine.  Apparently a relative of the family, she was the widowed mother of Elizabeth Hathaway Thompson Peck.  Both the Thompson-Peck and Bookman families had roots in Newburgh, New York.  Elizabeth died on February 2, 1876 at the age of 91.

Robert W. Bookman, who appears to have never married, remained highly involved with St. Ambrose Church.  In 1878, Taintor's Route and City Guides: City of New York listed 29 Charlton Street as the headquarters for the Friendly Society of St. Ambrose Church for the Relief of the Aged.

By then, another of the Thompson-Peck family, Thomas L. Peck, was sharing 29 Charlton Street.  And in 1881, following the death of her husband, Robert Edgar, Elizabeth Thompson Peck and her daughter, Helen Hathaway Peck, moved in.

Catharine G. Bootman died on May 1, 1884 at the age of 76.  Her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

Robert Bootman was now outnumbered by Pecks in his longtime home.  Thomas L. Peck was listed here as late as 1891.  The house was the scene of Helen's wedding reception on January 7, 1897.  She was married to Lester T. Parsons in St. Luke's Chapel on Hudson Street.  The New-York Tribune noted, "The reception was attended by about one hundred guests."  The newlyweds moved far north, to 26 Manhattan Avenue in Harlem.

On June 3, 1903, Robert W. Bootman died.  His funeral was held in the house on June 5 and, like the Bootmans and Pecks previously, he was buried in Newburgh, New York.  The house was bequeathed to John E. Gunn and his wife, the former Rose Carmichael.  Gunn's father, Rev. D. G. Gunn, had been pastor of St. Ambrose Church in the 1870s.

After John E. Gunn's death in February 1917, the house was purchased by Ellen Millett Hoyt, the widow of Russell Pratt Hoyt who died in 1905.  Living with her were her two unmarried daughters, Frances Millett and Grace Elizabeth.  They were 51 and 44 years old in 1917 respectively.

Living with the Hoyts from 1918 to 1920 was Collier's magazine editor and writer, Lucian Cary.  He had begun as a reporter for The Chicago Tribune in 1910, and had joined Collier's in 1916.  He would go on to become a well-known novelist, short story writer, and a leading authority on firearms.

Ellen Millett Hoyt died here on October 1, 1920 at the age of 76.  Two years later, an advertisement in the Yonkers, New York Statesman read,

The Misses Hoyt announce the opening of their dancing classes in the Nappeckamack Club, Saturday morning, October 28th.  Classes for children and adults in fancy, folk, aesthetic, national, ball room and toe dancing.  For terms and further information address The Misses Hoyt, 29 Charlton Street, New York.

Grace Hoyt sold the house in 1926.  It was home to diverse residents over the next decades, including D'Arcy Parrott Reynolds, a 1920 graduate of Princeton University.  While living here in 1933, he organized Parrott & Stewart, an investment counseling firm.

Daniel A. Reed and his wife lived here at mid-century.  In 1959, they participated in the annual Greenwich Village Garden Tour.  On April 23, The Villager announced that among the nine "hidden gardens" on the tour was "Mr. and Mrs. Daniel A. Reed's garden and pool."

The nearly 200-year-old Sayre house remains a single-family home.  

photographs by the author

The Edward and Regina Steindler House - 311 West 107th Street

 
Perez M. Stewart and H. Ives Smith were prolific developers on the Upper West Side in the last quarter of the 19th century, erecting dozens of high-end rowhouses.  In 1897 Stewart & Ives hired architect Clarence F. True to design a row of seven residences at 305 through 317 West 107th Street.  Completed in 1898, True designed them in a balanced A-B-C-D-C-B-A plan.

The centerpiece, 311 West 107th Street, was 20-feet wide and, like its siblings, five stories tall.  Faced in gray brick and trimmed in limestone, its lower three floors were bowed, providing a stone-railed balcony to the fourth floor.  A graceful French-style balcony fronted the French windows of the second floor.  The fifth floor took the form of a slate shingled mansard pierced with two arched dormers.

On May 7, 1899, the New-York Tribune reported that Stewart & Ives had sold 309 and 311 West 107th Street to "a well-known merchant."  Benjamin Stern, with his two brothers, Louis and Isaac, owned the Stern Brothers department store on West 23rd Street.  Just before buying these two houses, according to the article, he had purchased several other dwellings on the Upper West Side "for investment."

Stern rented 311 West 107th Street for two years before selling it in September 1902 to Edward and Regina Steindler.  Steindler's life was worthy of a Horatio Alger novel.  Orphaned at four years old, he lived in the Cleveland Orphan Asylum until he was 12.  The pre-teen traveled to New York City and got a job as an errand boy in a tie factory.  He slowly rose through the company to be a "commercial traveller" (today's traveling salesman), "getting a high salary," according to the New-York Tribune later.

In 1893 he organized the New York Curtain Company.  It "arranges advertisements for theatre curtains," described The New York Times.  (The stage curtains of vaudeville theaters were slathered billboard-like with advertisements.)  Steindler was also president of the Block Light Company and of the American Paste Company.  "He is also interested in mines, and is said to be the second largest individual owner of mines in the Dominion of Canada," according to the New-York Tribune in 1907.

Regina was known to her family and friends as Regi.  Moving into the house with the Steindlers were Regina's parents, Louis and Sarah Franke.  Louis Franke was a commission merchant.  When he was summoned to testify in a case about water rights upstate in 1903, Franke mentioned, "I live with my son-in-law, 311 West 107th Street, near Riverside Drive; a very fine house."

As well-to-do families left New York City to spend the summer months at country homes or resorts, the men often stayed back to attend business.  They would see their families on the weekends.  And so, when The New York Times reported on the "expected August rush to the Catskills" on August 9, 1903, among the arrivals at the Hotel Kaaterskill were "Mrs. Edward Steindler" and "Mrs. Louis Franke."

Although the Steindlers had no children, they gave a debutante dance in 1906 for Lola P. Kalman, the daughter of Regina's sister.  On April 8, the New York Herald reported that "thirty young people" attended.

On May 17, 1907, Edward and Regina boarded the Kaiserin Auguste Victoria to France.  On the afternoon of June 2, they and eight other Americans who were staying at the Elysée Palace Hotel in Paris decided to motor to Versailles for lunch.  They took three cars, one of which was operated by Edward Steindler.  The New York Times reported, "While the Americans were traveling at an easy rate through the Bois de Boulogne, a heavy racing car bore rapidly down upon the party.  Mr. Steindler turned out too late and the racing car cut his car nearly in half."

The New-York Tribune reported, "Mrs. Steindler was picked up in a semi-conscious condition and taken to her hotel."  The article said she was "severely injured."  The Sun noted, "Mr. Steindler will prosecute Dodey, the racer who was driving the automobile which ran into him."  In reporting on the accident, the New-York Tribune parenthetically mentioned, "Mr. Steindler was the largest contributor to a fund for building the Training School for Nurses attached to Lebanon Hospital, of which he is treasurer."

Regina recovered and back home in New York the couple resumed their philanthropic work.  In the summer of 1910, The New York Sun reported on the upcoming Orphans Automobile Day.  The annual event took Manhattan orphans on a day trip to Coney Island.  The article titled, "Committee Needs More Cars For Orphans Day," mentioned, "The latest offers of cars include four sight seeing cars donated by Edward Steindler of 311 West 107th street, who more than duplicated his contribution of last year."

By then, Steindler had expanded his advertising business into the new motion picture industry.  Among his various positions, he was president of the Moving Picture Advertising Company.

On April 10, 1912, the 49-year-old suffered a fatal heart attack in the West 107th Street house.  Regina took over the reins of at least one corporation and the following year she was listed as a director in the Dorchester-Riverside Company.

Regina Steindler's wealth was reflected in a notice she posted in the "Lost and Found" section of The New York Times on October 18, 1914:  "Liberal reward, diamond and pearl bracelet lost in taxicab Thursday night from Cort Theatre to 311 West 107th st."  The item was, in fact, a collar, described by police as containing, "sixty-four diamonds set singly, ninety-six in clusters, and thirty-one pearls."

Two months later, on December 15, two detectives arrested Harry D. Koenig and Frederick Young as they attempted to pawn the item.  Koenig told the police he found it between West End Avenue and Riverside Drive, "and, needing money now, had determined to pawn it."  The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Steinaller [sic] was overjoyed to recover the ornament."

The near-loss was not enough to make Regina more careful.  A notice in The New York Times on March 11, 1916 read, "$200.00 reward [for] return of diamond platinum hairpin, tortoise shell prongs, hinges of gold, lost Feb. 25 between Metropolitan Opera House and 311 West 107th St."  Regina's offered reward would translate to just under $6,000 in 2025.

Louis Franke died in the house on March 24, 1922 and his funeral was held there on the 26th.  Five years later, on October 24, 1927, Sarah Franke died.  Her funeral, too, was held in the drawing room.

After occupying 311 West 107th Street for more than four decades, Regina Franke Steindler died in 1943.  Her estate sold the property in February 1944 to Rabbi A. Bornstein.  A renovation completed in 1955 resulted in an apartment "for rabbi's study," as described by Department of Buildings, and a kitchen on the first floor, two apartments on the second, and apartments and furnished rooms on the upper floors.

The Jewish Journal, June 25, 1945

Among the tenants in 1964 was 19-year-old Columbia student Steven Galper.  He was one of eight civil rights demonstrators arrested on March 20.  Sponsored by the Congress of Racial Equality, 50 demonstrators appeared at the F. & M. Schaefer Brewing Company in Brooklyn to protest alleged racial discrimination in hiring.  Galper paid a $25 fine rather than spending five days in jail.

In September 1966, two other Columbia students, Paul Auster and Peter Schubert, moved into an apartment together.  The two were best friends, according to Auster.  In his Groundwork, Autobiographical Writings 1979-2012, Auster described the space as, "A two-room apartment on the third floor of a four-story walkup between Broadway and Riverside Drive."  Referring himself in the second person, he writes:

A derelict, ill-designed shit hole, with nothing in its favor but the low rent and the fact that there were two entrance doors.  The first opened onto the larger room, which served as your bedroom and workroom, as well as the kitchen, dining room, and living room.  The second opened onto a narrow hallway that ran parallel to the first room and led to a small cell in the back, which served as Peter's bedroom.  The two of you were lamentable housekeepers, the place was filthy, the kitchen sink clogged again and again, the appliances were older than you were and hardly functioned, dust mice grew fat on the threadbare carpet, and little by little the two of you turned the hovel you had rented into a malodorous slum.

Nevertheless, Paul Auster emerged as a novelist, poet and filmmaker.  Among his works are the 1987 The New York Trilogy; The Brooklyn Follies, released in 2005; and the 2012 Winter Journal.

Edward and Regina Steindler's dining room is now part of a two-room apartment.  image via sovereignrealestate.com

Another renovation was finished in 1972.  There are nine apartments within the building.  Despite the alterations, much of Clarence F. True's 1898 interior details survive.

photographs by the author

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The Lost Josiah H. Burton Mansion - 390 Fifth Avenue

By the turn of the last century, the former basement level had been converted to shops.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Josiah Howes Burton was born in St. Albans, Vermont on December 27, 1824.  He married Lucia Maria Clark in 1852 in St. Albans, and relocated to New York City shortly afterward.  Around 1858, the family moved into the newly built mansion at the southwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 36th Street.

The northward migration of wealthy homeowners was just now reaching this far north along Fifth Avenue.  It would not be until the following year, for instance, that the sumptuous John Jacob Astor III mansion would rise on the northwest corner of 33rd Street.  The Burtons' residence would equal or surpass any of the rising mansions.

Faced in brownstone, it was five stories tall above an American basement.  (The American basement plan placed the entrance nearly at street level.)  Designed in the Second Empire style, its fifth floor took the form of a slate-shingled, Parisian style mansard crowned with lacy ironwork.  The offset arched entrance within the rusticated base sat above a short stoop.  The windows on the Fifth Avenue elevation were arranged in threes and set in graceful frames.  Quoins separated the Fifth Avenue bays.

When they moved into their new home, the Burtons had two sons, Clark Candee, born in 1853, and Frank Vincent, born two years later.  Two more sons would later arrive--Robert Lewis in 1860 and John Howes in 1868.

The Burtons' residency was short lived.  The family left 390 Fifth Avenue in 1860 and shortly afterward moved to a 51-acre estate in Newburgh, New York.  

The mansion became home to merchant Thomas George Walker and his family.  Born in 1832, Walker and Lucy Bowman Holbrook were newlyweds, married on October 1, 1860.  Walker's first American ancestor, Thomas Walker, arrived in New York City in 1790, just after the end of the Revolution.  Lucy's American roots were deeper.  Her earliest ancestor was Nathaniel Bowman, who arrived in Massachusetts around 1630.

The Walkers did not leave on a wedding trip, but immediately moved into 390 Fifth Avenue.  That most likely had to do with  the health of Lucy's mother.  Although Lucy's parents, Henry M. and Louisa W. Holbrook, lived in Brooklyn, they were staying with the couple in the Fifth Avenue house.  Louisa died there 12 days after the wedding, on October 13, 1860.  Her funeral was held in the mansion on October 15.

A more joyful event took place in the house the following year when Holbrook Walker was born. 

The mansion was threatened later that year.  On November 24, 1861, The New York Times headlined an article, "Fire In Fifth-Avenue."  The article explained, "A fire was discovered yesterday morning in the residence of Thomas G. Walker, No. 390 Fifth-avenue."  The blaze had started in "an ash-barrel under the back stoop," said the article.  Firefighters extinguished it before significant damage was done.

Sadly, Holbrook Walker died in March 1862, not yet one year old.  Three more children would be born in the mansion: Arthur Lucian, born in 1863; Marion in 1866; and Louis Bowman in 1869.

Lucy Bowman Holbrook Walker died in 1871.  Thomas sold the mansion that year to William P. Seymour.  (Interestingly, on April 2, 1873, Thomas Walker married Lucy's cousin, Louise Jones Bowman.  They would have one daughter, Lucy.)

The Finance and Commerce of New York, 1909 (copyright expired)

William P. Seymour had started his real estate business in 1859.  He specialized in "the most expensive class of property in the City of New York," according to The Finance and Commerce of New York.  

Also living in the mansion was Seymour's unmarried sister.  She sometimes traveled to Europe with their sister, the wife of William K. Merritt.  They did so in 1872, and on March 20, 1873, they were among the 950 passengers who boarded the White Star Line steamer Atlantic in Liverpool, heading home.  The women were among the 50 cabin passengers, the other 900 were in steerage.  The steamship was wrecked off the coast of Nova Scotia on April 1.  Both of William Seymour's sisters were lost in the sinking.

Later that year, Seymour sold 390 Fifth Avenue to William H. Barmore.  Although the neighborhood was still exclusively residential (it would be another 17 years before William Waldorf Astor broke ground for the Waldorf Hotel on the site of the house his father had erected), Barmore converted the mansion to a hotel--the Barmore House.  

Barmore was the son of William Barmore, who had been president of the Knickerbocker Ice Company.  Upon his death, the younger Barmore "inherited considerable property," according to The New York Times.  Prior to opening Barmore House, he had operated a confectionary business and now continued to run a shop in the former mansion. 

Close inspection reveals that Barmore kept the original entrance intact, while installing his confectionary store on the corner.   Trow's New York City Directory, 1879 (copyright expired)

The Barmore House was operated on the European Plan, which meant that meals were not included in the cost of the suites.  A residential hotel, its occupants signed leases.  They could take their meals in the Barmore Restaurant on site, if they liked.  An advertisement read:

Barmore's, 390 Fifth Avenue, southwest corner 36th street.  Elevator and all modern improvements.  Rooms en suite and single, specially arranged for permanent families.

William Barmore's venture came, perhaps, before its time.  He faced financial problems in January 1881, selling the property to John Jacob Astor III for $212,000 (about $6.7 million in 2025).  Barmore continued the hotel, leasing the building from Astor.

It was common for businesses to pay (some might say "bribe") newspapers to print glowing reviews, most often written by themselves.  That was assuredly the case when, on November 13, 1881, The New York Times wrote, "Peculiar circumstances enable the Barmore, No. 390 Fifth-avenue, to furnish a better table d'hôte for $1.25 (with wine) than has ever before been afforded in New-York."

Barmore's marketing was not enough to keep his business afloat.  On January 20, 1882, his creditors held a meeting in the hotel.  The New York Times said his statement showed, "liabilities $15,000 and merely nominal assets."

Astor altered the ground floor to shops and leased space to high end retailers.  In 1888, Rophine Rouis opened his lamp shop in the building.  Described by History and Commerce of New York as "the only manufacturer in this country of lamp shades in floral designs in silk and satin," Rouis also imported, "lamp shades, candle shades, candles, artistic vase lamps and oil chandeliers."  The article said that by moving into its 25 x 75 foot salesroom here, he could sell his "enormous and splendid stock of goods" directly to the public, rather than through dealers.

By the early 1890s, Keller & Co., art dealers and "dealers in German and Italian World's Fair exhibits," according to The Evening World, occupied space here.  The firm was operated by Moritz and Anna Keller.  In 1893, they fired Martin Cuney.  Moritz Keller said later that "a threat had been made that trouble would be made unless Cuney was reinstated." 

Shortly afterward, a shipment arrived for Keller & Co. that included a $1,100 jewel casket.  Although the item was being held in bond and officially in the possession of Customs officials, the Kellers were permitted to exhibit it along with other items from the recently closed Chicago Exposition.  They were on display in The Grand Central Palace, the city's new exhibition hall on Lexington Avenue and 44th Street.

On January 18, 1894, Anna Keller and her former employee, Martin Cuney, were arrested and charged "with a violation of the custom laws in disposing of dutiable goods in bond."  The Evening World reported, "Mrs. Keller is a handsome woman of the Oriental type of beauty.  The fact that she had spent the night in Ludlow Street Jail did not appear to affect her personal appearance to the least."

Customs officials had discovered that the expensive imported casket was gone, and in its place was a $29 substitute purchased from Bloomingdale Brothers.  It appears that Cuney had carried out his threat to make trouble.  He told the court, "he had carried the casket to the Hotel Savoy and delivered it to a Mr. Boehm, under instructions from Mrs. Keller.  He did not know he was doing wrong," recounted the newspaper.  Happily for Anna Keller, the case was dropped by Government officials on February 1.

Another art dealer in the building was Max Williams Co., founded in 1893, which handled "rare engravings and etchings."  Williams was also a publisher and produced reproductions of artworks.  The firm had a branch in London and Paris, as well.  On February 27, 1896, The Independent reported, "at the Max Williams Gallery, 390 Fifth Avenue, [are exhibited] seventy-seven of his etchings and dry points, which are beautiful work.  They range in price, generally speaking, from five to fifteen dollars."

The linen store of William S. Kinsey & Co. occupied space by 1899.  The firm handled embroidered napkins, tablecloths, handkerchiefs, and the like.

The Outlook, December 9, 1898 (copyright expired)

William S. Kinsey & Co. was still operating from 390 Fifth Avenue when the Gorham Manufacturing Company purchased the property in 1904.  They hired McKim, Mead & White to design an office and showroom building on the site.  Designed by Stanford White, the replacement building was completed in 1906.

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York