The Marietta Zanfretta House - 22 Charlton Street

 

George Paulding erected three identical, brick-faced houses at 20 to 24 Charlton Street in 1826.  Each just under 19-feet wide, they were two-and-a-half stories tall.  While more upscale homes on the block had elegant doorways with fluted columns and leaded sidelights, these had modest entrances with simple pilasters and transoms.

No. 22 appears to have been initially rented.  In 1827, the families of Dr. John F. Gray and James Perkins, a broker, shared the house.  It was no doubt Dr. Gray who placed the anonymous ad in the New York Morning Courier on June 3, 1828:

Notice--German Anatomy--Whoever bought a volume of Explanation of Mayer's Anatomical Plates, at Henry's auction room, in February or March, last, will find a purchaser of the same (if disposed to sell) by calling at 132 Fulton, or 22 Charlton street.  The volume in question is a small folio and in the German tongue.

The two families soon moved on--the Grays to 28 Vesey Street and the Perkins family to 37 Charlton Street.  In 1830, the Joseph Finch family occupied 22 Charlton Street.  They suffered a heartbreaking loss on August 30 that year, when their seven-month-old daughter, Elizabeth Margaret, died.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on September 1.

It was most likely while a new tenant was moving in in 1836 that thieves made off with unusual items.  An notice in the New York Morning Courier on May 27 read:

10 dollars reward--stolen from No. 22 Charton street, one Brussel Rug, red, white and yellow ground, 10 or 12 yards, three-fourth damask Venetian stair carpet.  Also, large blue table cloth cover.  Pawn-brokers and others are requested to stop if offered for sale, and shall be entitled to the above reward.

A rapid succession of tenants came and went through the next decades.  In October 1870, a "well-to-do Texas family named Denis" arrived in New York "and took up their residence at 22 Charlton street," according to The New York Sun.  Their eldest son, Edward, was about 15 years old and found a job in a bookstore near the Cooper Union.  The New York Sun said, "His habits were studious and domestic."

On April 10, 1871, Edward left work and headed home.  Four days later, The New York Sun reported he, "was seen at Eighth street and Fourth avenue, but since that time he has been missing.  His employers speak of him in the highest terms."  It is unclear if the teen was ever found.

No. 22 Charlton Street finally found a long-term resident around 1880 in Marietta Zanfretta, also known as Madame Siegrist.   Born in Venice, Austria, in 1832, The World said, "She had been a marchioness, a clown's wife, an acrobat, a tight-rope walker, a dancer, a chanteuse, an impresario, a modiste, an artist and what not besides."  

An early cabinet card depicted Maria Zanfretta in costume.

She grew up in a family that performed in circuses and became a favorite of audiences because of her skill on the tightrope.  She performed pirouettes and somersaults above enthralled audiences.  Following her marriage to Francois Siegrist, the two organized the Zanfretta Troupe, which included Marietta's brother, Alexander; and Francois's brother, Auguste.

Francois Siegrist died in 1878.  On May 17, 1881, The New York Times recalled, "Mrs. Marietta Siegrist...under the stage name of Marie Zanfretti [sic], some years ago was a performer on the tight-rope, and her husband was noted as a pantomimist.  Mrs. Siegrist is reported to be well off.  She lives in good style in Charlton-street, in a house which she owns."  Living with Marietta in the Charlton Street house were Alexander Zanfretta and Marietta's grown daughter, Blanche Siegrist, a "serio comic" whose stage name was Anneta L. Siegrist.

In March 1881, Marietta took in a boarder, Themoleon Calteau, described by The New York Times as, "a young Frenchman, who claims to be an educated electrician."  Blanche Siegrist, whom The Times said was "a young and prepossessing woman," caught Calteau's romantic eye.  Blanche spurned his "marked attentions," but Themoleon Calteau was undeterred.  He "continued his attentions until they became persecutions," according to the newspaper.

Finally, on Sunday evening, May 15, Marietta called her boarder into the parlor.  Blanche was already there.  When Marietta told him he could no longer remain in her house, he snapped, drawing a large revolver from his coat.  Blanche screamed and ran to her room, directly over the parlor.  According to Marietta, Calteau exclaimed, "Ah, that is it.  Since you will not give your daughter to me no one else shall have her."

When he heard Blanche's footsteps over his head, he fired three times into the ceiling.  The New York Times reported, "The bullets passed through the ceiling of the parlor and the floor of the room above, but without doing any further damage."  Calteau threw the revolver to the floor and ran out of the house.  He was arrested shortly afterward.

In 1883, Marietta married Francois (known as Frank) Victor Kenebel.  He listed his profession as "actor" as the time, and as "manager" in 1892.

In the meantime, Blanche had married the well-known athlete William J. "Billy" Madden, a champion boxer, trainer and manager.  He was, as well, an author, playwright and sports promoter and until 1891 ran the Athletic Hall.  By the fall of 1892, Blanche was back in the Charlton Street house.  On September 17, The Evening World reported that she sought, "her most novel divorce suit from a common law marriage."  As it turned out, according to Blanche, "Billy fixed up a fake marriage certificate at the store of his friend George Block in Harlem, to fool her mother, who couldn't read English.  They lived together a long time, and acknowledge each other as man and wife."

But when Marietta refused to lend him money on July 15, 1892, "Billy got mad" and the next day the notice of his marriage to Eileen McGuinness at Mechanicville, New York was published.  Despite the notice, there was no record of the marriage with the village clerk.  Blanche stressed that despite the lack of marital documentation, Billy and Eileen were living together and "therefore she asks for a divorce," said The Evening World.

Alexander Zanfretta, called by the New York Herald "a professional dancer and acrobat," would also be having domestic problems before long.  His second wife, Emma, was a dancer.  The newspaper said, "The Zanfrettas, husband and wife, appeared at Miner's Eighth Avenue Theatre in the spring of 1895."  During that appearance, they met railroad mogul Andrew Anderson, Sr. and his wife.  Before long, Mrs. Anderson, was imploring her husband to cease his attentions to Emma Zanfretta.  The New York Herald reported, "Zanfretta says his wife on May 1, 1895, left him, and took up her residence with Anderson not long afterward.

Zanfretta moved back to Marietta's house.  A year later, he was appearing at a Coney Island music hall, when he looked into the audience and saw his wife and Anderson.  Following his act, he changed into his street clothes, went into the auditorium, and "struck Anderson several times in the face, continuing the assault until he was dragged away," according to the New York Herald.  In August 1897, he began divorce proceedings and filed damages against Anderson.

On March 20, 1898, The World began a lengthy article saying, "The head and progenitor of the most numerous and talented family of dancers, pantomimists, acrobats and chanteuses in all the world, died unnoticed in this city the other day."  Marietta Zanfretta Siegrist Kenebel had died on February 8.

The Charlton Street house almost immediately became home to James Drury.  He was the secretary of the Continental League, which railed against the United States' imperialistic expansion beyond the North American continent.  On January 9, 1899, The Evening Post reported that the group met "to oppose the permanent retention of the Philippine Islands and entangling alliances with any European Power."

In 1919, William Sloane Coffin and his wife, Katherine, began buying up vintage houses in the neighborhood.  In August alone, they purchased 14 properties, including 22 Charlton Street.  They raised the attic to a full floor, giving it paired sets of casement windows.  The Coffins sold the remodeled house in November 1921.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The vintage house was renovated again in 1987, resulting in a basement apartment and single-family home on the three main floors.  It drew the attention of entertainer Taylor Swift in the winter of 2014.  On January 15, Metro reported she "checked out" the $6.25 million property.  The star told Vanity Fair that she buys, "houses near every boy I like."  In the end, she did not purchase 22 Charlton Street.

photograph by the author

Frederick C. Zobel's 1905 13 and 15 West 24th Street

 

At the turn of the last century, the former occupants of the refined brownstones that lined the block of 24th Street between Broadway and Sixth Avenues had mostly moved northward.  In their place came commercial buildings.  On May 19, 1905, Andrew J. Kerwin, Jr. purchased the "two four-story dwellings" at 13 and 15 West 24th Street, as reported by The New York Times.  The combined plot was 52-feet-wide.

Kerwin commissioned Frederick C. Zobel to design the 11-story replacement on the site.  Completed in the spring of 1906, its vast, arched entrance (offset to accommodate a storefront) sat within a portico with polished blue granite columns.  Recessed within a limestone frame, a trio of tripartite windows at the second floor were separated by cast iron columns.  The stone bandcourse directly above was sumptuously carved as a sheaf of fruits.

The brick-faced midsection was introduced by three sets of modified Palladian windows, their center arches replaced with Renaissance pediments.  The two-story top section finished the design with three triple arcades.

With the building completed, Andrew J. Kerwin, Jr. quickly turned his focus to erecting another.  On July 19, 1906, the New-York Tribune reported that he had sold 13-15 West 24th Street and, "will begin the erection on May 1, 1907, of an eleven story loft building" at 27 through 35 West 24th Street.

The block overlapped with the apparel and the pottery-and-glass districts, the latter centered on West 23rd Street.  The handsome loft-and-store building at 13-15 West 24th Street attracted tenants from both industries.

Among the first to move in was Lynch & Notman, which made decorative housewares.  In its August 1907 issue, Glass and Pottery World remarked, "A glimpse into the showroom of Lynch & Notman...quickly shows the visitor that here are goods which would undoubtedly attract the attention of particular people," and cooed, "This firm is turning out some of the most exclusive and finest work possible to produce."  Among the items listed in the article were, "colonial and Russian brass candlesticks, hand-hammered and spun jardinieres and fern pans, electric portables, sconses [sic], etc., in bronze, and carved wood in antique gold finish."

On the apparel side, occupying space in 1912, for instance, were Hynard & Meehan, makers of waists and dresses.  Also in the building were Rappaport & Gottlieb, coat makers; and men's silk neckwear firm Bachrach Co.

The mix continued in the post-World War I years.  Hynard & Meehan was still here, boasting in an advertisement in 1920 that "our factory is turning out 600 to 750 charmeuse, crepe meteor and tricotine dresses made up in the latest models."  

That year, Frank M. Katz & Co. signed a lease.  On September 30, 1920, The Pottery, Glass & Brass Salesman reported that its 6,000-square-foot space "will permit of an unusually fine display of merchandise," that included, "lamps, toilet articles, baskets, etc."

Also operating here in 1920 were Max Zweigenthal, makers of "graduation dresses, georgettes, organdies, and also printed georgettes, taffetas and satin dresses," according to an ad in June; as well as furrier Abraham Keizer & Bro.; and milliner Adolph Wimpfheimer & Co.

The American Hatter, March 1922 (copyright expired)

Even after the Garment District moved to Midtown, apparel factories continued to rent space in 13-15 West 24th Street through the third quarter of the century.  By then, the Madison Square neighborhood was experiencing a renaissance.  In 1983, the upper floors were converted to sprawling residential spaces.

An advertisement for a 4,500-square-foot co-op in 2005 described it as having, "keyed elevator to private landing; dining area, renovated eat-in kitchen with center island, exposed-brick walls, marble baths, mahogany doors."  The price at the time was $3.5 million.

While the block has changed, outwardly Frederick C. Zobel's stately loft building, essentially, has not.

photographs by the author

The 1926 The Richmond - 147-153 West 79th Street

 

In 1925, the Felco Realty Corp. demolished three high-stooped brownstone houses to make way for a modern apartment building.  Designed by J. M. Felson, The Richmond was completed the following year at a cost of $700,000--just over $12 million in 2025.  A 1920s take on Spanish Renaissance architecture, its somber, dark brown brick facade was enlightened with brilliantly colored terra cotta elements.

The cream-colored details of the entrance sat upon an orange background.  In place of capitals, the Renaissance-inspired pilasters terminated in shields held by nude youths.  Above the doorway was an elaborate heraldic design, and three urns perched upon the cornice.

photograph by Eden, Janine and Jim (cropped)

A faux balcony at the third floor echoed the entrance pilasters.  Intricate filigree screens fronted heraldic shields over each window, above which were terra cotta knights flanked by children's faces.  Rondels of bas relief Renaissance busts floated above the central windows of the fourth floor.  A second faux balcony, this one in the form of an elaborate arcade, appeared at the 13th floor.  A modest terra cotta cornice originally crowned the 15-floor design.

An advertisement boasted that the apartments came with refrigerators rather than ice boxes.  "Unusual apartments in 'The Richmond.'  Large, convertible 4-room apartments and a Special Doctor's Apartment.  Mechanical refrigeration.  Moderate rents."

It appears that several of the early residents were young couples.  On December 17, 1926, for instance The American Hebrew reported, "Mr. and Mrs. Jerome M. Ahrens, upon their return from a Californian wedding trip, will reside at 147 West Seventy-ninth Street, New York.  The bride was the former Ethel Baer."  Another young couple were David and Doris Loeb, who lived on the sixth floor.  

David Loeb was a bond salesman.  When he returned to the apartment early in the morning of May 8, 1931, Doris was not there.  The Brooklyn Eagle reported, "Mrs. Doris Loeb, 30...was killed early this morning when she either fell or jumped from the dining room window...to a rear courtyard."  The Evening Post said, "Detectives said there was no sign of a struggle and Mrs. Loeb probably had been in bed prior to her fall."  (Why Doris plunged from the dining room if she had presumably been in bed was not addressed.)  David Loeb declared, "his wife was in good health, and could ascribe no reason for her death," added The Evening Post.

It may have been the difficulties of the Depression years that prompted a few residents of The Richmond to go astray.  On October 11, 1933, the Yonkers Herald Statesman reported that four men, including 38-year-old John B. Wagner, had pleaded guilty "to charges of bookmaking."  Wagner and his cronies were dealt leniently by Judge Charles W. Boote.  The article said, "They were placed on probation for indefinite periods."

Another resident would be in trouble three years later.  On February 4, 1936, the Brooklyn Eagle reported that 36-year-old Adrien Marcus and a co-conspirator had been charged "with attempting to extort $1,000 from Otto Bresse of 533 West End Ave., Manhattan, by posing as police officers."

An impressive resident was Fanny Holtzmann, who briefly moved into her parents' apartment here in the fall of 1934.  Fanny received her law degree from Fordham University in 1922, and focused on clients involved in the theater, eventually becoming the most influential attorney in the industry.  

On October 3, 1934, the Jewish Daily Bulletin reported, "Fanny Holtzmann is back.  Back from London, scene of one of the greatest and most dramatic legal triumphs--her victory over Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in the suit of Princess Youssoupoff for libel in their production of 'Rasputin and the Empress.'"  Holtzmann had won a cash settlement "that has been estimated variously at from a quarter to three-quarters of a million dollars" for the princess, said the article.

Fanny Holtzmann.  from the collection of Fordham Law School

Holtzmann had represented actress Ina Claire in her divorce from stage star John Gilbert in 1931, and had negotiated the contracts of the likes of Noel Coward, Gertrude Lawrence and George Bernard Shaw.  Fanny's father, Henry Holtzman, had been an influential Brooklyn attorney.  The Jewish Daily Bulletin remarked, "Of late years, however, her father has resided in Manhattan at 147 West Seventy-ninth street, which address is also the home of Broadway and Hollywood's favorite Portia."

The "Portia" referred to in the article was assuredly well-acquainted with Fanny Holtzmann.  Actress Marion Cunnar Evensen first played the role of Portia in Julius Caesar in 1917.  In 1934, the year of the article, Evensen met actress and director Eva Le Gallienne.  The couple would remain life partners until Evensen's death in 1971.

Another theatrical resident was writer and producer Reginald Rose.  He and his wife, the former Barbara Langbart, were married in 1943.  While living here, he wrote Twelve Angry Men, which he initially sold as a television drama, in 1955.  It would be adapted for the screen in 1957.  In his 2021 Reginald Rose and the Journal of 12 Angry Men, Phil Rosenzweig mentioned, "In early 1955, Barbara Rose became pregnant with twins.  That spring, the family moved from their small apartment on 147 West Seventy-Ninth Street to a larger one at 151 West Eighty-Sixth Street."

Reginald Rose.  image via IMDb.com

Following the death in December 1964 of famed steamship designer Vladimir Yourkevitch, his widow, the former Olga Krestovsky Petrovsky, moved into The Richmond.  Vladimir Yourkevitch is best remembered today for his masterful Art Deco liner, the S. S. Normandie.  He and Olga had arrived in New York City in 1935 on that vessel's maiden voyage.

This 1935 postcard depicts the S. S. Normandie, which carried Olga and Vladimir Yourkevitch to New York.

Born 1891 to Russian officer and novelist Colonel Vsevolod Krestovsky, Olga was educated at the Smolny Institute in St. Petersburg.  She earned Serbian and French decorations and the Russian Cross of St. George for her nursing work during World War I in Serbia, Cannes, and Moscow.  She and her first husband, Nicholas Petrovsky, fled to Serbia and then to France after the Russian Revolution.  Following her divorce, she married Yourkevitch in Paris.  Olga Yourkevitch died while living here on December 6, 1976 at the age of 85.

Among Yourkevitch's neighbors in The Richmond had been Dr. Herman Max Sternberg and his wife, the former Emmy Malles.  Born in Austria in 1901, Sternberg was "a member of a notable medical family," according to The New York Times.  "His father, Prof. Maximillian Sternberg, was a professor of medicine at [the University of] Vienna, and his uncle, Prof. Carl Sternberg, was a professor of pathology there," said the newspaper.  Not surprisingly, Herman Sternberg attended the University of Vienna, graduating in 1925.

Arriving in New York City in 1939, the orthopedic surgeon became associated with the Hospital of Joint Diseases, the Long Island College of Medicine, the Prospect Heights Hospital in Brooklyn, and Mount Sinai Hospital.

At some point after mid-century, the terra cotta cornice of The Richmond was removed.  Despite the loss and the unsympathetic treatment of facade repairs, the building's splashy Spanish Renaissance-style terra cotta decorations are show-stoppers.

photographs by the author

The Lost Cornelius Vanderbilt I House - 10 Washington Place

 

Frank Leslie's Illustrated Magazine, January 1877 (cropped, copyright expired)

In January 1877, Frank Leslie's Illustrated Magazine recalled, "Cornelius Vanderbilt was born on Staten Island on May 27th, 1794.  His father owned a farm on the island and also a rude ferry-boat on which the future commodore and railroad king plied an oar."  When young Vanderbilt was 18 years old, he owned his own boat and the foundation of his massive fortune was laid.

At 19, Vanderbilt married his first cousin, Sophia Johnson.  They would have 13 children.  Although his formal education ended when he was 11 years old, Vanderbilt grew his empire by ruthless ambition and innate business acumen.  By the end of the 1830s, he dominated the Long Island Sound steamship business, owned substantial Manhattan and Staten Island real estate, owned the Staten Island Ferry, and through cutthroat dealings had begun acquiring his first railroads.

In 1839, Sophia pressured her husband to move the family from Manhattan to his birthplace in New Dorp, Staten Island.  (His father, Cornelius van Derbilt, died in 1832 and his mother, Phebe Hand Vanderbilt, was living there alone.)  Always one to follow his own wants, however, in 1845 Cornelius purchased the 44-foot-wide plot at 10 West Washington Place (the "West" would be dropped from the address later) from Matthew Morgan for $9,500.  Morgan had already erected his mansion on the abutting property at 12 Washington Place.

Vanderbilt's property ran through the block to West Fourth Street.  Working with builder Benjamin F. Camp for the designs, he planned a double-wide mansion with a commodious carriage house in the rear lot opening onto Fourth Street.  Ground was broken in May 1845 and construction was completed in November 1846.  The New York Times placed the cost at $55,000, including construction and real estate.  The figure would equal $2.68 million in 2025.

Sophia Vanderbilt was inconsolable about the thought of moving back to Manhattan and leaving the fresh air of the farmland.  Cornelius, however, could make his wife bend to his demands.  Edward J. Renehan, Jr., in his Commodore, The Life of Cornelius Vanderbilt, explains,

…when she protested too loudly about being taken from Staten Island to occupy the new Washington Place residence nine months out of the year, Vanderbilt threatened to have her committed to an asylum in Flushing.  When a trip to Canada with a daughter and son-in-law did nothing to calm Sophia’s nerves or tone down her protest, Vanderbilt made good on the threat.  Sophia remained incarcerated for three months until, after the apparent intercession of Phebe Hand  [Vanderbilt] and Sophia’s surrender in the form of an announced willingness to live in Greenwich Village, she was finally released.

The Greek Revival-style Vanderbilt mansion was faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Four stories tall and four bays wide, it held its own with the aristocratic mansions a block-and-a-half away on Washington Square.  The entrance was flanked by free-standing columns that upheld a classical triangular pediment.  The parlor windows opened onto two balustraded balconies.  The New York Times deemed, "It is reckoned to be one of the strongest and best constructed buildings in the City."

Between the carriage house and the mansion, reported The New York Times, was "a small paved court-yard."  The article described the expanse of rear building, saying, "The stable is large and well ventilated, and in a large open space in the centre, under the same roof, there is an oval dirt track on which the horses may be exercised when the weather is too inclement for them to be taken out."

Upon entering the residence, there were two "large and commodious" parlors on the right.  To the left was the reception room and beyond that was the dining room. 

Nathaniel Jocelyn painted Vanderbilt's portrait in 1846, the year the family moved into 10 Washington Place.  from the collection of the National Portrait Gallery of the Smithsonian

Interestingly, the décor reflected Vanderbilt's egocentric personality.  The New York Times described the artworks:

The most valuable of these is a bust of the Commodore, in white marble, by Powers.  In a niche in the lower great hall is a statuette in Parian marble, a copy of the statue, in heroic size, cast in bronze, by Capt. Albert De Groot, for the Vanderbilt memorial in front of St. John's Park Depot.  In the dining-room is a picture of the Commodore in a road wagon, wearing a white hat and driving a favorite span of horses.

To the front of the second floor were two identical spaces, each 20 by 20 feet--Vanderbilt's frescoed ceiling library and a sitting room.  The latter was "plainly, but elegantly furnished," and hung with portraits of Vanderbilt, Sophia, and Phebe.  In the rear of the second floor were Sophia's dressing room and boudoir, and Cornelius's bedroom and private office.  The third floor held the children's bedrooms and on the fourth floors were servants' rooms.  In the basement, along with the kitchen and service rooms, was a billiard room.

Cornelius surveys a servant with three of the girls in a parlor.  Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, January 20, 1877 (copyright expired)

Despite decades of tensions between Cornelius and Sophia, they were described as a warm, loving couple during their 50th anniversary celebration held in the house on December 19, 1863.  The Sun reported, "Since their first marriage day, the career of this happy couple has been one of an almost unchequered success.  With nothing but youth, good looks, mutual affection and unconquerable energy as their portion then, now they are blessed with a wealth and influence, second to none other private citizen in the country."

After speeches and tributes, "The band of music now struck up a march, and the party moved to the supper room."  Following dinner and more celebrations, the night was closed "by a splendid serenade from the Seventh Regiment Band."

Sophia Johnson Vanderbilt.  (original source unknown)

George W. Vanderbilt had been given leave from the Army to attend the event.  Although he was the youngest of the boys (after William Henry and Cornelius Jeremiah), George was his father's favorite.  Born on April 10, 1839, he graduated from West Point in 1860.  After the Civil War broke out in April 1861, Vanderbilt saw combat and was promoted by President Abraham Lincoln to 1st lieutenant of the 10th Regiment U.S. Infantry on June 14, 1861.  Three months before his parents' golden anniversary, he was promoted to captain.

George Washington Vanderbilt.  His eldest brother, William Henry, would name one of his son after him. (original source unknown).

Through Cornelius Vanderbilt's influence, George was allowed to travel to Nice, France to recuperate from battle wounds and illness.  He was there on December 31, 1863 when he died at the age of 24.  Vanderbilt's body was shipped to 10 Washington Place, arriving a month later.  His military funeral was held in the parlors on February 5, 1864.

Four years later there would be another funeral in the parlor.  On August 20, 1868, the New York Herald reported, "the residence of Commodore Vanderbilt, No. 10 Washington place, was yesterday morning thronged with relatives and friends of the family, who had assembled for the melancholy purpose of paying the last tribute of respect to the remains of the late and much lamented Mrs. Vanderbilt."  Sophia Johnson Vanderbilt had died on August 17 at the age of 73.

By 1865, Mary Eliza Crawford and her daughter, Frank Armstrong Crawford, relatives of Cornelius Vanderbilt, had relocated to New York City from Mobile, Alabama.  (Frank was named prior to her birth in honor of her father's business associate, and so she went through life with a man's name.)  Now, months after Sophia's death, Vanderbilt pursued his cousin relentlessly.  Although Frank (who was 45 years younger than Vanderbilt) initially rebuffed his proposals while he was in mourning, she finally relented.

Frank Crawford Vanderbilt, from the collection of the Vanderbilt University

On August 25, 1869, just eight days after Cornelius Vanderbilt's mourning period elapsed, the New York Daily Herald began an article saying, "The gossip that has been current in the newspaper for several months, that the venerable Cornelius Vanderbilt, the world-wide known millionaire and railroad king, was seriously contemplating matrimony, has been verified.  He was married at eight o'clock on Saturday morning last, at London, Canada, to Miss Frank Crawford."

While Vanderbilt was tepid regarding religion, Frank was an ardent Presbyterian.  She and her mother had been acquainted with Rev. Charles Force Deems in Mobile.  Now also living in New York City, Deems had organized the Church of the Strangers, which was worshiping in a chapel at New York University.  

Just months after her wedding, Frank Vanderbilt invited Rev. Deems to 10 Washington Place.  In his 1897 Autobiography of Charles Force Deems, the minister wrote, "The commodore had never been a member of any church, had been a very worldly and even profane man; but he had from his earliest childhood the most unshaken faith in the Bible."  In the parlor, Cornelius Vanderbilt offered Deems $50,000 to buy the Mercer-Street Presbyterian church, just a block from the Vanderbilt mansion.  

Interestingly, Vanderbilt's wife's devoutness had not changed his lack of passion.  When Deems said, "Commodore, if you give me that church for the Lord Jesus Christ, I'll most thankfully accept it," Vanderbilt's business-like reply was, "No, doctor, I would not give it to you that way, because that would be professing to you a religious sentiment I do not feel.  I want to give you a church, that's all there is.  It is one friend doing something for another friend.  Now, if you take it that way I'll give it to you."

Cornelius was confined to the house beginning May 1876.  Speculation about his dire condition resulted in his obituary published in several newspapers on October 17.  Only assertions from his physicians and the patient himself successfully debunked the story.

Less than four months later, however, the end came.  Cornelius Vanderbilt died in his bed at 10 Washington Place on January 4, 1877.  The mogul left an estate of $193 billion in 2025 terms.

The scene on Washington Place on the day of Vanderbilt's funeral.  Frank Leslie's Illustrated Magazine, January 1877 (copyright expired)

As part of her inheritance, Frank took title to 10 Washington Place and $500,000 in bonds.  A bizarre incident occurred four years later, on April 23, 1881.  That day a man, described by the New York Dispatch as, "advanced in life, and with long, grizzly, unkempt hair that had not felt the shedding of a comb in a decade; a long, crispy iron beard, made stiff with lager--a street-gauger--a rope around his waist to keep his breeches up, and his shoes (sandals) strapped to his feet," climbed the stoop of the mansion and rang the bell.  He told the butler, Thomas Odell, he wished, "The Queen of the Earth, Commodore Vanderbilt's widow."

Odell replied, "Get out."

After a period, he returned.  The newspaper said he, "made a demand for 'the Queen of the Earth, Commodore Vanderbilt's fascinating young widow,' as his wife."  This time he was arrested.  The interloper explained to the judge that an angel had whispered, "O, King of the Earth, go claim the Commodore's widow as your wife, and make her Queen of the Earth, and the millennium will come."  He was sent to the Tombs where he was examined regarding his sanity.

Frank attended the funeral of Phoebe Vanderbilt, Cornelius's sister, on April 25, 1885.  She "caught a cold from standing on the damp ground at the cemetery," reported The New York Times.  

On May 3, 1885, The Sun reported that “Mrs. Frances [sic] Vanderbilt of 10 Washington place, widow of the Commodore, who is sick with pneumonia, is getting worse.”   Two days later, The New York Times announced that she had died at 9:00 the previous morning.  Her funeral was held at the Church of the Strangers, the building that her husband had made a gift to Rev. Deems.

The Evening World, February 8, 1890 (copyright expired)

The Vanderbilts sold the mansion in 1890.  On February 8, The Evening World reminisced, "Once there stood a row of wide four-story and basement brick houses, with brown-stone stoops and window-trimmings, on the south side of Washington place."  Now, said the article, "the most notable one was sold the other day to a merchant for over $200,000.  He intends to tear down the house about the first of May, and build a mammoth emporium in its stead."

The Eighth Ward Hotel - 188 Spring Street

 

The facade is partially obscured in 2025 by construction netting next door.

Around 1824, Nathanial Paine erected three Federal-style houses at 166 to 170 Spring Street (renumbered 186 to 190 Spring Street in 1848).  Three-and-a-half stories tall, the peaked roofs of each had a single dormer.  A commercial space occupied the ground floor of the center house and a narrow horsewalk, or passageway, that tunneled through the structure accessed a smaller building in the rear.

The upper floors appear to have been originally operated as a boarding house.  Living here in 1827 were John Beraun, a hairdresser; Cyrus Fairchild, who was a cartman; grocer Josiah Merritt; carpenter Jacob Noble; and shoemakers Isaiah Sickels and Alan H. Brown.  Sickels and Brown most likely worked for Henry Travis, whose shoe store was in the ground floor.  In the rear building, Burgess & Smith ran a tailor shop.

On April 26, 1832, according to the American Rail-Road Journal, the property was sold at auction for $2,600 (about $94,600 in 2025 terms).  The buyers, William Lewis and his wife, almost immediately leased it.  An advertisement in the New-York Evening Post on June 5, 1832 offered, "To Let, the three story brick House No. 168 Spring street, calculated for a dwelling and store; rent very low and possession given immediately."

It was leased to John F. Davis, a captain in the 1st Regiment of the U.S. Volunteers of New York.  Davis was highly involved with Tammany Hall and converted the store space to "Captain Davis's Large Room," sometimes called the Davis's Long Room, a tavern and meeting place for Eighth Ward Democrats.  Rooms continued to be rented in the upper floors, which Davis named the Eighth Ward Hotel.

Davis's signing of the lease came in time for the 1832 elections.  On November 6, The Evening Post reported that the Eighth Ward Hotel would be the polling place for the ward.

At a meeting here on March 14, 1834, the Eighth Ward Democrats passed a series of resolutions.  Among them were, "Resolved, That Mr. Martin Van Buren, Vice President of the United States, we recognize a true Democrat, one ever willing and ready to sustain his country at the call of the people," and, "Resolved, that the attempt by our political adversaries to corrupt the voters by raising, as they boast they have done, a fund of 20,000, while it exhibits the depravity of our opponents, shews that they illy understand and cannot appreciate the virtue of the American people."

A reporter from the New-York Tribune (an anti-Tammany newspaper) attended a meeting "at Captain Davis's Large Room" on June 25, 1844.  His article cast an unfavorable light on the speaker, Dr. Chetou, who addressed the concerns of tavern owners over the Temperance-leaning mayor.  "He told them this was not the first time that their rights had been invaded," said the article, "A similar attempt was made in 1828 to prevent them from selling on Sunday."

He then descanted at length on the influence and respectability of Rum-sellers, and contended that they had more property and more money invested in their business than all the Stock Gamblers in Wall street.  You have come here, said he, this afternoon to perform your duty, to maintain your rights, which a party placed in power by our partialities have encroached upon.

Davis's Large Room continued to serve as a polling place each year and as the Democratic Ward headquarters.  By 1846, it was also the headquarters of the 1st Regiment U.S. Volunteers.

In 1850, the rear building was home to the Charles J. Holder piano shop, established in 1834.  The English-born Holder's piano-fortes were high-quality instruments.  He won a silver medal at the 1852 and 1853 American Institute Exhibitions, and in 1852 C. A. S. Holder, presumably a son, was recognized for "a superior piano-forte case."  

An advertisement in The New York Times on April 23, 1853 said Holder's, "splendid 7-1/2 octave Instruments...are now eliciting the admiration of professors and musical families" and predicted, "these instruments are destined to supersede the Grand Piano, as they possess all their melody and power, and are afforded at half their price."

One can imagine the difficulty workers encountered in moving pianos through the narrow horsewalk.  Nevertheless, Charles J. Holder would occupy the rear building through 1860.  By then, Thomas Holder and Elbridge G. B. Holder were involved in the business.

In addition to its traditional pianos, in 1868 the firm was manufacturing celestas, also known as bell pianos.  The instruments produced a sound similar to a glockenspiel.  On May 3, 1868, the New York Herald headlined an article, "A Musical Offender," and reported that Henry Ennver, "a young man, twenty-one years of age, recently in the employ of Mr. Charles J. Holder, of 188 Spring street," had been arrested "on the charge of stealing one hundred and fifty pounds of gong bells."  Ennver confessed to the theft and to having sold them for $10.

In the meantime, in 1845, most likely in response to his Tammany loyalty, John F. Davis was appointed an officer of the U.S. Customs House.  His new responsibilities may have eventually made it impossible to run the hotel, as well.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on April 21, 1853 read, "To Let or Lease--The House No. 188 Spring street, known as the Eighth Ward Hotel, with fixtures and furniture for sale.  The reason for selling out is, that the proprietor has other business to attend to."

In 1870, the rear building was leased to Crawford Monds, who operated C. Monds, carpenters and builders.  The commercial space in the main building became the variety store of Frederick Eckhardt, who now owned the property with his wife, Anna.  In 1879 Frederick transitioned to selling milk.

Lewis (sometimes spelled Louis) Eckhardt ran the "creamery" business by 1880 while Frederick managed his real estate holdings.  On July 23, 1881, The Evening Post reported that "Lewis Eckhardt, an extensive milk dealer at No. 188 Spring street," had been charged by Dr. John B. Isham, an inspector of the Board of Health, for adulterating his milk.  Isham told Justice Bixby, "that one third of the cream had been removed and eleven per centum of water had been added."  

The Eckhardts operated the milk business from the property into the first years of the 20th century.

image for the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

By the World War I years, the building was updated with a veneer of running bond brick and the removal of the dormer.  The family of Seung Gong, who ran a laundry in the store space, lived in the upper floors.  A Chinese-run laundry would remain through World War II.

A significant renovation completed around 1962 converted the ground floor to residential.  The horsewalk was incorporated into the space and the ground floor was given a wooden veneer.  A rooftop shed dormer was installed at the same time.

photographs by the author

The 1931 Madison Ave. Baptist Church / Roger Williams Hotel - 129-131 Madison Avenue

 

In the early 1920s, a new concept began sweeping metropolitan areas--the "skyscraper church."  Congregations from coast to coast were demolishing their old structures and erecting apartment or office buildings that incorporated a ground floor church space.  In theory, the congregation would reap tremendous income from the rental properties.  It was a notion that would catch the attention of the Madison Avenue Baptist Church at the southeast corner of Madison Avenue and 31st Street.

The 1855 Madison Avenue Baptist Church, from the collection of the New York Public Library

Organized in 1838 as the Rose Hill Church, in 1849 it changed its name to the Lexington Avenue Baptist Church.  Three years later it moved into a red brick structure at 154 Lexington Avenue.  Only six years later, in 1858, the congregation relocated into a Romanesque Revival-style structure at Madison Avenue and 31st Street.  The church was renamed the Madison Avenue Baptist Church.  

In 1929, with the Great Depression ravaging the country, the congregation faced a decision.  The trustees leased its property to the newly formed Madison Avenue-Thirty-first Street Corporation.  It demolished the vintage church and hired architects Jardine, Murdock & Wright to design a 15-story residential hotel on the site.  A restriction in the deed demanded that the new building would include a sanctuary for the Madison Avenue Baptist Church.  Rev. John Sanders Bone later explained it was the only way "to maintain itself in an area where it could have survived because of the terrific costs, and to provide a 'witness' in the business community in the heart of the city."

Perhaps as a nod to the former church structure, Jardine, Murdock & Wright designed the hotel-church in a 1930s take on Romanesque.  The sanctuary was located at the southern part of the property, with a three-story limestone face and an impressive arched entrance.  The stained glass windows from the demolished church, executed by Franz Xavier Zettler sometime after 1870, were salvaged and installed into the new sanctuary.

On October 12, 1931, The New York Times reported, "The new Madison Avenue Baptist Church, built into the lower floors of the Roger Williams apartment hotel...was formally opened yesterday morning."  The hotel was named for Roger Williams, who founded the First Baptist Church in America in 1638.

The entrance to the Roger Williams Hotel was on East 31st Street.  Its apartments would be called "studios," today.  An advertisement in the Columbia Spectator on May 12, 1932 described, "one room apartments, attractively furnished" with "kitchenette."  Rents were "$40 per month and up," or about $892 in 2025 terms.

Tenants saw a rent hike the following year.  An ad in The New York Sun in 1933 was titled, "You Get All This for $50," and touted, "attractive living room, tile bath, cooking facilities with gas without charge, also electric connections.  Electric refrigeration.  Ample closet space.  Maid service optional."

Despite their relatively small accommodations, the apartments filled with middle-class professionals, like literary agent Minnie Hoover Linton, who moved in on October 28, 1933 with her cat.  Linton, who according to The New York Times, was "distantly related to former President Hoover," was the sister of J. Edgar Hoover.  After having worked as an editor at McGraw-Hill Publishing Company for ten years, in 1929 she co-founded her agency with Nell Martin.

Also an author, Minnie Linton had completed six chapters of her current novel, The Rooming House, when she moved in.  

The 59-year-old was almost totally deaf, a result of an explosion in The Los Angeles Times building where she had worked as a proof-reader.  (Twenty-one other workers were killed.)  Because of her condition, she carried an ear trumpet.

The evening after moving into the Roger Williams, Minnie attempted to visit Nell Martin, but she was out.  She had almost made it back home at 10:00 when she was struck and killed at the corner of Madison Avenue and 31st Street.   

Novelist Henry Miller and writer Anaïs Nin moved into the Roger Williams Hotel in November 1934, according to Robert Ferguson's Henry Miller, A Life.   Ferguson explains, "The main achievement of his stay at the Roger Williams Apartments...was to finish Black Spring, the collection of autobiographical pieces that would eventually become his second published work."

Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin (original source unknown)

Sylvia Morris lived here in 1935 when she suffered embarrassing, nationwide press coverage.  Her repeated visits to Dr. Winfield Scott Pugh raised the suspicions of Pugh's wife, Irma Mary.  One afternoon she was at her husband's office when Sylvia Morris was taken into the examination room.  She later told a judge that there was "complete silence" in the room.  "When other patients were there I always heard commotion."  

Irma Mary Pugh went outside, obtained a stepladder, and peered into her husband's examination room.  In court on January 23, 1936, she pointed to Sylvia Morris and testified, "I saw that woman laying nude on the operating table.  My husband was in his undershirt," as reported in The Decatur Daily Review.

Amelia Sackett moved to New York from Philadelphia after being separated from her lithographer husband, Harry A. Sackett.  She found a job in a doctor's office in Brooklyn and  signed a lease for an apartment on the seventh floor with a friend here in 1939.  Her attempt to move on from her divorce was not successful and she suffered depression.  On November 23, 1939, Amelia rushed toward the open apartment window.  Her roommate grasped her clothing, but the fabric tore and the 66-year-old plunged to her death.

Living here in the post-World War II years was Florence Lundborg.  Born in 1870 in San Francisco, she studied at the Mark Hopkins Institute of Art and in Europe.  An established illustrator and muralist, among her works were murals for the Wadleigh High School in Manhattan and the Curtis High School on Staten Island.  Lundborg died during her sleep in her apartment here on January 18, 1949 at the age of 78.

Florence Lundborg from the collection of the National Archives and Records Administration.

By the third quarter of the century, the Roger Williams (which now accepted only transient guests) had declined.  The management began renovations in 1970, and on October 23, New York Magazine wrote, 

 

It is small and not very attractive--but adequate.  The tiny lobby and many of the rooms are now being redecorated, and the dingy hallways do lead to some pleasant rooms.  Those on the lower floors had been remodeled with wood paneling and all-new bathrooms.  The idea behind the renovation is to achieve the modern, efficient look of a motel room.  That they succeed may be either a plus or a minus in your book.

 

At the time of the article, an unrenovated single room ranged from $14.50 to $19.50 per night.  A remodeled room began at $16.50 (about $129 today).

In 1985, the Red Cross took over three floors of the Roger Williams as an "emergency family center" that could accommodate 30 homeless families, according to The New York Times on June 23.  The Red Cross facility remained at least through 1987.

On December 18, 1992, The New York Times published an article on Manhattan hotels that cost $150 or less per night.  Calling the Roger Williams Hotel a "simple, tidy establishment," it said, "The furnishings are just a step up from college dormitories, but the beds are decent and the prices remarkable."  A room cost $55 per night.

In 1995, the Madison Avenue Baptist Church leased the hotel to Bernard Goldberg, principal of the Gotham Hospitality Group.  Rev. Michael B. Easterling, the church's pastor, explained that of the eight operators who bid on the lease, "the Gotham Group has proposed the strongest renovation program."  The following year, the new proprietors initiated a year-long renovation.

Originally retaining the Hotel Roger Williams name, the renovated building was described in November 2001 by The New York Times saying, "Serene and spare, the 187-room hotel deftly blends European and Asian influences; shoji screens on the windows, Belgian linens on the beds."  The interior design by Rafael Viñoly included "a space for free chamber music performances."

In the renovation, the entrance to the hotel was moved from 31st Street to Madison Avenue.  Recently, the name was changed to Hotel AKA NoMad.

photographs by the author