The 1897 Donac - 402 West 20th Street

photo courtesy of Brown Harris Stevens

Angelica Barraclough Faber was one of 13 children of Don Alonzo and Mathilda Charity Smith Cushman.  Cushman, a close friend of Clement Clarke Moore, began developing plots on the former's country estate, Chelsea, in the early 1830s.  Upon Cushman's death in 1875, he left significant real estate to his children in equal shares.

Angelica's husband, Gustavus William Faber, died in 1895.  Like her father, she turned to real estate and in February 1897, bought out her siblings to acquire full ownership of the vacant lot at 402 West 20th Street, just west of Ninth Avenue.  She hired esteemed architect C. P. H. Gilbert (who had designed several Cushman buildings) to design a flat building on the site.  His plans, filed on April 2, projected the construction cost at $15,000, or about $585,000 in 2026 terms.

To the east of the plot sat 169 Ninth Avenue, which Don Alonzo Cushman erected in 1845 and which hugged the 20th Street property line.  To the west was the 1830 house at 404 West 20th Street, which sat back to allow for its stoop.  Gilbert cleverly transitioned the two by concaving the western corner of his building, creating an elegant architectural link.  

C. P. H. Gilbert's design gracefully transitions from property line to set-back.  photo courtesy of Brown Harris Stevens

Faced in beige brick, Gilbert's tripartite neo-Colonial design included splayed lintels and paneled quoins.  Above the entrance, a stone entablature announced the building's name, Donac, a nod to Angelica's father (Don A. C.).  A three-story faceted bay filled the mid-section of the concave section.  It provided a small stone balcony to the fifth floor apartment.

Perhaps because the Donac faced the General Theological Seminary, several of the tenants were involved with the Episcopalian church.  Among the initial residents was Adelaide Oliver, who had lived across the street at 4 Chelsea Square with her husband, the Rev. Dr. Andrew Oliver.  On October 19, 1897, as construction of the Donac neared completion, Rev. Oliver died.  Adelaide could see the seminary and her former home from the window of her new apartment.

Adelaide Inlay Oliver was born in Hartford, Connecticut in 1832.  She died in her Donac apartment on November 17, 1898 and her funeral was held in Trinity Chapel on November 21.

As early as 1908, John Wilson Wood and his wife, the former Harriet Roe Drom, lived here.  Born in New York City in 1866, he was the executive secretary of the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States.  He was in charge of domestic missionary work in North America.

The Woods would remain in the Donac for decades. The 1929 American Biography noted, "Mr. Wood makes his home at No. 402 West Twentieth Street, in that charming part of New York City known locally as Chelsea."

Harriet died in the apartment in 1931, and eight years later John Wilson Wood married Regina Lustgarten, who had been a missionary in China for years.  John and Regina Wood still lived here on August 7, 1947, when he died at the age of 81.

In the meantime, author Edward Sim Van Zile and his family occupied an apartment as early as 1913.  Born on May 2, 1863, Van Zile married Mary Morgan Bulkeley in 1886 and they had five children.  An article about Van Zile in Book News Biographies in 1904 said, "for the past ten years, Mr. Van Zile has been known to the reading public through many short stories, novelettes and a few novels."

Edward Sims Van Zile ca. 1917, from the collection of the Library of Congress

Among the books written by him at the time of that article were the the 1890 A Magnetic Man and Other Stories; Don Miguel, and Other Stories, released in 1891; and the 1903 A Duke and His Double.

The Van Ziles' parlor was the scene of daughter Sally's marriage to Dr. Walter F. Scott on June 3, 1913.  The home wedding was, apparently a compromise.  The New York Times reported, "As Miss Van Zile is a Protestant and Dr. Scott a Catholic, the wedding ceremony will be performed by Mgr. [Michael J.] Lavelle of St. Patrick's Cathedral."  (The family moved next door to 404 West 20th Street, leasing it from the Cushman family, soon after.)

The staid atmosphere of the Donac was rocked in 1958.  Poet Hettie Cohen worked as a subscription manager at the Record Changer when author and poet LeRoi Jones applied for a job.  The two bonded, were married the following year, and leased an apartment in the Donac.  Hettie, in her How I Became Hettie Jones, recalls the Friday night, "just after we moved to Chelsea," that the couple attended a poetry reading by Jack Kerouac.  She writes:

Our new house was a straight mile downtown, just off Ninth Avenue, and we had nothing but party space to offer, so after the reading we just brought the audience home, to 402 West Twentieth Street, a once elegant six-room parlor facing the weatherbeaten brick of the Episcopal Seminary.

Hettie Jones writes that that Friday night never ended.  "Soon we had a studio couch and a folding cot, one or two weekly boarders, twenty or more weekend regulars, occasional bases for hundreds."  The Jones apartment fostered what became known as the "Twentieth Street poets," a group of Beat Generation poets, including figures like Jack Kerouac, Robert Creeley, Allen Ginsberg, and Gregory Corso.

LeRoi and Hettie Jones with Jones's parents in 1963.  Kas Heppner/Metropolitan Photo Service

In 1957, the couple founded the literary magazine Yugen and established the publishing firm Totem Press.  Not surprisingly, they published works by their friends--like Ginsberg, Kerouac and Frank O'Hara.  In 1962, they left the Donac to move into an apartment at 27 Cooper Square.

photo courtesy of Brown Harris Stevens

The building was purchased in 1981 by Marion Buhagiar, who initiated a facade cleaning and restoration.  Essentially unchanged externally, it was recently offered for sale, the realtor telling me it "can now be offered as a single-family home if desired."

The 1914 Municipal Building - 1 Centre Street

 

photograph by Momos

As early as 1884, the city's government had outgrown the 1812 City Hall building.  Plans for a Municipal Building that would "contain the different departments that are now housed in rented quarters," as described by the Real Estate Record & Guide in October 25, 1890, were varied.  The article said that the Municipal Building Commission had considered sites on St. Mark's Place and East 6th Street, but had decided on City Hall Park, which was already owned by the city.  The New York Times explained that several structures, including City Hall, the Post Office and the Court House, would have to be demolished.

A vote in the State Senate on February 25, 1890 challenged the idea.  The New York Times reported that legislators balked at the loss of a public park.  They further argued, "The City Hall is architecturally and historically too valuable, and the Court House and the Post Office are too substantial and costly to be removed."  (The sensitivity to City Hall's architectural importance, or even its recognition, was highly unusual for the time.)

A year later, however, the plan looked promising.  On March 28, 1891, The New York Times reported that Mayor Hugh J. Grant was pushing hard for the plan.  The article explained:

He was fully aware of the fact that there was opposition to the scheme of tearing down the old City Hall, but so far as he had been able to determine this was the expression only of sentimentalism which should not be allowed to stand in the way of the city's progress.

Ready to fight the mayor, said the article, was the Architectural League of America, which "would condemn the proposition to tear down the old City Hall."

City Hall seemed doomed following a two-hour meeting in the private office of the new mayor, Thomas Gilroy, on March 28, 1893.  The Municipal Building Commission and the Advisory Committee of Architects agreed with Gilroy and his predecessor.  A site map was released showing the proposed $4 million structure sitting directly on top of the City Hall site, its northern wings engulfing the Court House.

The New York Times, March 29, 1883 (copyright expired)

A contest for the design of the Municipal Building was opened shortly after, with the deadline for submission at noon on September 1, 1893.  The 130 architects had toiled in vain, as it turned out.  The battle to save City Hall was far from over.

Andrew Haswell Green was well known to New Yorkers.  He had been highly involved in the development of open spaces including Central Park, Riverside Drive, and Morningside Park.  He wrote a lengthy, pleading open letter to the Parks Commissioners in February 1894.  It said in part:

The City Hall presents an example of fine architectural taste.  In design and construction it is faultless as any structure in the city, while its historical and biographical relations involve events of paramount interest and personages of dignity and estimation, and, as has been well said, "It stands to-day unsurpassed by any structure of its kind in the country."  It should continue to stand, as for nearly a century it has stood, ample, commodious, and convenient.

It would be more than a decade before a committee agreed to  find an alternative site for the Municipal Building, and to preserve the Court House and City Hall, and renovate the park.  Finally, on May 9, 1908, the Record & Guide published a rendering of the new building, designed by William M. Kendall of McKim, Mead & White.  The site, facing City Hall Park on the east side of Centre Street, had proved a challenge for him.

The article said, "The peculiar shape of the lot...at the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, made the architectural problem, as well as the problem of light and air an unusual one."  Also challenging was "the problem of construction over the subway without interfering with the passage of trains."  Kendall had chosen "the classic style" for the building, said the article, "following the accepted traditions of buildings of a civic character throughout the country from the earliest times down."

McKim, Mead & White released the above rendering on May 8, 1908.  Real Estate Record & Guide (copyright expired)

As construction progressed, on June 27, 1909 The New York Times began an article saying, "New Yorkers thrive on superlatives."  It reminded readers of the Municipal Building's unique elements: "a subway running through its basement, an elevated railroad on its second floor, with streets on every side of it, and one passing directly through it."  

On December 27, 1909, Mayor George B. McClellan, Jr. and Bridge Commissioner James W. Stevenson oversaw the laying of the four-ton, Maine granite cornerstone "of what is to be the largest, most elaborate, and most ornate municipal building of any city in the world," according to The New York Times.  The article said construction would be completed by January 1912 at a cost of "about $14,000,000."  (That figure would translate to nearly $500 million in 2026).

 Real Estate Record & Guide (copyright expired)

The article went on to describe Kendall's design, saying it would rise 25 floors to an eight-story tower.  "The general style is to be French Renaissance...The ornamental front of the building on Centre Street, with a long row of fifty-foot pillars, will be broken in the centre by an arched arcade through which Chambers Street will be run through the building."  Kendall strayed from the French Renaissance with that arcade, which was inspired by the ancient Arch of Constantine in Rome.

photograph by Jgrenaldy

Constructing a massive building adjacent to the subway was not only challenging, but dangerous.  On June 4, 1910, The New York Times reported that the east side of the excavation for the Municipal Building's foundation collapsed.  "A mountain of sand behind the shoring suddenly shifted and buried three workmen," said the article.  "Some of the timbers knocked over two others."  One of those workers, James McClellan, was buried to the neck and pinned by timbers.  The article explained, "further movements of the sand threatened to bury him completely."  Two priests, Father John Curry and Father Luke J. Evers, were lowered into the pit where they gave the last sacraments to McClellan.  Three hours later, fortunately, he was extricated and removed to a hospital.

Three months later, on September 3, a second cave in took place, this time on the western side.  It undid significant work.  The New York Times reported, "The sewer and water pipes along the line of the cave-in were torn away."  Happily, this time no workers were injured.

Within months after that setback, the building began taking shape.  On April 23, 1911, McKim, Mead & White announced that the tower of the structure was "designed in the modern classic style, and will be built of Maine granite of a light tone."  Not yet decided, according to The New York Times, was "a figure to top the tower."  The firm said "a number of figures are being considered."

Disaster struck again on June 28, 1911.  The New York Times reported, "The highest blaze ever fought by the Fire Department...was discovered early last evening on the twenty-fifth floor of the new Municipal Building, now in course of construction."  The stand pipes did not yet extend above the 21st floor.  The article said, "The firemen tried to extinguish the fire by throwing on sand, but the blaze was beyond their control."  The fire fighters were also endangered by the fact that the floors at that level were not yet floored over.  They "were compelled to walk in line and carry a lighted lantern," said the article.  Hoses were hauled up from the 21st floor stand pipe and eventually the fire was extinguished.

The next week, on July 3, the building was topped off.  "Just before stopping work last night," reported The Times, "several hundred iron workers on the new Municipal Building...unfurled a large American flag to show they had reached the highest point of the structure."

On May 8, 1913, Adolph A. Weinman's gilded statue, Civic Fame, was installed atop the tower.  Although the building was still under construction, the first tenants moved in seven months later.  

Not everyone was happy with Kendall's results.   On January 22, 1914, Mayor John Purroy Mitchel told a meeting of the Sinking Fund Commissioners, "The building was planned badly in its original conception and is largely a waste of space as now constructed."  The board's commissioner noted, "this undoubtedly can be attributed to the fact that the site was a bad one in the beginning."  The president of the Board of Aldermen added his thought.  "We have the building and we must make the best of it."

On January 22, 1914, the New-York Tribune wrote, "If the protests of city department heads are to be believed, the fine white Municipal Building is a fine white elephant; cost to date, some $15,000,000; and value for the original purpose, doubtful."  The article admitted, "The Municipal Building is good to look at."  But it added, should it not adequately fulfill the needs of the city departments, "Miss New York on the top of the tower may have cause to hide her face in her robes for shame at the waste."

A vintage postcard shows the Municipal Building as the highest structure in the district. (copyright expired)

Borough President Marcus M. Marks came to Kendall's and the building's defense.  The Evening World reported on February 23, 1924, "He pointed to the wonderful capacity of the building with its fourteen acres of net floor space, its thousand offices, supplying 5,000 employees with plenty of natural light, and figures that office space in the new structure will cost the city...$1.33 per square foot, as against an average price of $1.76 per square foot paid during the past two years for rented space."

original photograph from the author's collection

Another complaint was almost unbelievable.  On June 21, 1914, the New York Herald reported, "Don't believe anybody who tells you that it's an optical illusion which makes you think that Miss Civic Virtue, or whatever the official name of the bronze lady on the top of the Municipal Building tower is, has hiked her gilt skirts up hysterically during the past few days and is trying to stand even higher on her pedestal than heretofore."  

As construction began, two cats "fell into the excavation," said the New York Herald.  And then, "nature took its course."  By the time the building opened, "the cats in the building grew so numerous that something had to be done."  The newspaper said that the city had eliminated to date 63 feral felines.  The problem now, said the article, "mice frolic gayly" within the building.

photograph by Ken Lund

Despite the early denunciation of the structure, the Municipal Building (renamed the David N. Dinkins Manhattan Municipal Building on October 15, 2015) has become an architectural landmark of the lower Manhattan skyscape.  William M. Kendall's ability to conform his design to the awkward footprint, his striking entrance arcade, and the structure's soaring presence topped with Civic Fame is integral to the City Hall and Foley Square architectural neighborhood.

The 1902 Henry Herman Westinghouse Mansion - 313 West 105th Street

 

Real estate developer John C. Umberfield purchased vacant land on the north side of West 105th Street between West End Avenue and Riverside Drive in 1900.  Architect William E. Mowbray designed seven high-end residences for the site in the French Beaux Arts style, configuring his three designs in an A-B-C-B-C-B-A configuration.

The row was completed in 1902 and among the C models was 313 West 105th Street.  Its American basement design placed the centered entrance, which sat atop a three-stepped porch, within a rusticated base.  A delicate French-style railing at the second floor introduced a three-story projecting angled bay.  Engaged Scamozzi columns upheld a dramatic, broken pediment over the central window of the second floor.

John C. Umberfield sold the 21-foot-wide residence in February 1902 to Kate A. Burbank.  Her ownership would be short.  On October 30, 1903, The Sun reported that Kate sold 313 West 105th Street "to a Mrs. Westinghouse."

"Mrs. Westinghouse" was Clara Louise Saltmarsh Westinghouse, the wife of Henry Herman Westinghouse.  Born in 1854 and 1853 respectively, the couple was married in 1873.  They had two daughters, Clara Catherine, who was 20 in 1903; and Marjorie Caldwell, who was eight.  (Another daughter, Florence Erskine Westinghouse, died in 1890.)

Henry and his brother, George Westinghouse, were the sons of George Westinghouse, Sr., a patentee and manufacturer of farm equipment.  Like George, Jr., according to The New York Times, Henry "inherited a talent for mechanical development."  In 1883 he invented the single-acting steam engine and continued to design devices connected with air brakes and steam engines.  (His brother invented the air brake.)  In 1883, Henry co-founded the engineering firm of Westinghouse, Church, Kerr & Co.  The New York Times would later remark, "This company marketed the single-acting engine in every country where steam power is used."

When he founded Westinghouse, Church, Kerr & Co., Henry had already been associated with the Westinghouse Air Brake Company for a decade.  When he and Clara purchased 313 West 105th Street, he had been a vice-president of that firm for four years.

The family had another residence in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and their country estate, Grasmere, was on Cayuga Lake in the Finger Lakes district of central New York State.   

Henry Herman Westinghouse (1853-1933) original source unknown

The drawing and dining rooms of the West 105th Street house were routinely the venue of entertaining.  But the dinner party of "intimate friends and members of the family" on February 16, 1906, was special.  The New-York Tribune noted that "there were twenty-covers" and said that during the dinner, Clara Catherine's engagement to Charles William Fletcher was announced.

Six months later, on August 26, the New-York Tribune reported that the invitations to the wedding had been issued.  It would take place, said the article, "on the evening of Wednesday, September 12, at their summer home, Grasmere, Kidder's Ferry, on Cayuga Lake."  It would be a prestigious event.

The Auburn, New York Democrat reported, "The affair was elaborate in detail and was witnessed by about 900 guests and relatives from New York, Pittsburg, Boston, Schenectady and Atchison, Kansas."  The article mentioned that after their "automobile tour," the newlyweds "will be at home at 313 West One Hundred and Fifth street, New York, after November 15."

The following year, Henry and Clara sold the mansion to clothing manufacturer Hugh M. Mullen and his wife, Jessie C.  The couple had a daughter, Genevieve Lillian, born in 1887.

The family had barely settled in when Genevieve's engagement to Guyon Locke Crocheron Earle was announced.  On December 30, 1908, The Sun reported, "The marriage will be celebrated at the Mullen home on January 27.  

While the society reporters normally focused on the prospective bride, this engagement was different.  The son of the late General Ferdinand Pinney Earle, Guyon Earle grew up in "Earle Cliff," known today as the Morris-Jumel mansion, and in the family's Staten Island country home, Guyon Mansion, erected in 1673.  New Yorkers were also well-acquainted with the family through General Earle's proprietorship of hotels, notably the New Netherlands and the Hotel Normandie.

The wedding took place in the 105th Street house on the night of January 27, 1909.  As the Westinghouses had done, the Mullens soon sold the mansion.  In May 1910, Hugh and Jessie moved to the fashionable Sugar Hill section of Harlem, purchasing a house at 20 St. Nicholas Place.  They sold 313 West 105th Street to John Ewing and his wife, the former Grace MacKenzie.

John Ewing was born in Scotland on May 21, 1848.  When he was three, his parents immigrated to New York City.  He graduated from the College of Pharmacy and in 1877 partnered in the drug business of Doyle & Ewing.  He later founded Ewing & Co. with his brother-in-law Alexander MacKenzie.  Grace was the daughter of George R. MacKenzie, president of the Singer Manufacturing Company.

The couple was married on October 3, 1876.  Their first child, Grace MacKenzie, died at the age of five in 1885.  Their son, George Ross McKenzie, was 27 years old when they purchased 313 West 105th Street.  The Ewings' country home, Bramble Brae, was in Glen Spey, New York.

The couple was at Bramble Brae on July 29, 1914, when John died at the age of 66.  Grace remained at 313 West 105th Street until September 1920 when she sold it to British Lt. Colonel Lloyd, sparking a rapid-fire turnover in ownership.  

On December 10, 1924, The New York Times reported that Milton and Edward Schreyer had purchased the house for $55,000, saying they "intend to make extensive improvements and occupy."  (The price would translate to just over $1 million in 2026.)  They Schreyers lost the property in foreclosure and it was sold at auction to John B. Antonapolos for $40,950 on January 12, 1927.

Antonapolos leased the house the following year to the Master Institute of United Arts.  In reporting the deal on July 27, 1928, The New York Times remarked, "The institute owns the plot at the north corner of 103d Street and Riverside Drive, where it is erecting a fifteen-story structure."

The porch and its hefty wing walls were intact when this tax photograph was taken.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Russian-born Nicholas Roerich and his wife, Helena, had arrived in New York City eight years earlier.  The mystic and artist described himself as a master in the theosophist belief in ancients who could transmit messages and knowledge to believers.  (Reportedly, it was he who urged follower Henry Wallace, Secretary of Agriculture under Franklin Roosevelt, to persuade the Treasury Department to add the mystic pyramid of the Great Seal to the dollar bill—a change that was enacted in 1935.)  In addition to the institute, the couple had founded the Roerich Museum in 1923.

At the time of the lease signing, Nicholas was out of the country, "the head of the Roerich American expedition to Tibet," as explained by The New York Times on July 15, 1928.  His 5,000-word letter that Helena had received the previous day was the first anyone had heard from the expedition in 13 months.  He explained that they had been captives for five months in Tibet, "during which five of his men died and ninety caravan animals perished."

The Master Institute of United Arts and the Roerich Museum operated from 313 West 105th Street, staging exhibitions and lectures.  On January 27, 1929, The New York Times commented, "The Roerich Museum at 313 West 105th Street contains about 800 paintings by Mr. Roerich, including the panorama of his Asiatic travels.  The facilities remained here until the completion of the Master Building at 310-312 Riverside Drive. 

John Antonapolos signed a three-year lease for 313 West 105th Street to Pantelis Sioris on December 1, 1930 at $4,500 per year (about $7,000 per month today).  Before being leased in February 1939, it had been converted to multiple units--two apartments through the fourth floor and six furnished rooms on the fifth.

A substantial renovation came in 1963, when the former mansion was converted to apartments, three per floor.  The porch was removed, the main entrance and the service entrance remodeled as windows, and a new doorway installed where a window had been.

Then, in 1999, a penthouse level, unseen from the street was added.  It, combined with the fifth floor, created a duplex apartment.  There are 15 units in the building today.

photographs by the author

The Lost 1826 New York Theatre

 

image by Alexander Jackson Davis by Imbert's Lithography, from the collection of the New York Public Library

On November 25, 1783, George Washington gathered his entourage at the Bull's Head Tavern on the Bowery before re-entering the city upon the evacuation of the British.  The tavern was acquired by Henry Astor, brother of John Jacob Astor, two years later.  In 1824, he moved the operation uptown and assembled a group of businessmen who sold shares "for erecting a theatre on the grounds of Bull's Head."

The group commissioned 40-year-old architect Ithiel Town to design the structure.  Town was among the first American professional architects, and his rekindling of historic styles like Gothic and Greek would transform American tastes in architecture.

On June 19, 1826, The Evening Post reported, "The ceremony of having the corner stone of the new Theatre on the site of the old Bull's Head Tavern, took place on Saturday afternoon."  Mayor Philip Hone officiated, "assisted by a number of distinguished individuals," said the article.  A leaden box inscribed with the date held "a variety of articles, such as boxes and medals, also several valuable newspapers of the latest dates."  

The journalist waxed poetic, saying the box would be a link to the future, "when some musty antiquarian will be called on to decypher [sic] the forgotten characters in which the literature of the present age is recorded in these, then invaluable relics."

Construction cost $175,000 to build, according to Thomas A. Bogar in his Thomas Hamblin and the Bowery Theatre.  (The figure would translate to about $5.7 million in 2026.)  Town had produced a dignified, two-story structure inspired by classic Greek temple designs.  Atop a broad flight of stairs, two heroic, fluted Doric columns fronted the recessed entrance.  Triglyphs decorated the frieze below a triangular pediment.  To appear as marble, the brick facade was covered with hand-veined stucco.

image most likely by Alexander Jackson Davis, from the collection of the New York Public Library

The theater would hold 3,000 patrons.  It included concessions, including three saloons and a ladies' lounge.  A notice in the New-York Evening Post on September 30, 1826 offered:

New-York Theatre--Bowery--To let, the saloon, punch room, pit and gallery bars and fruit stands for the New York Theatre.  These places will be let separately at public auction to the highest bidder, on Wednesday, the 2d day of October next, at 12 o'clock noon, at Morse's Hotel.

The New York Theatre opened in October 1826.  The saloons within the venue and the resultant behavior of the more rowdy attendees prompted the drama critic of The Evening Post to raise concerns for the female patrons.  He suggested on October 26 that the boxes should be priced higher than the seats in the pit.

The boxes are certainly the most quiet and orderly, and in some respects the most convenient of the two, and should therefore be set at a higher price.  Besides, the boxes are the only place for ladies, and something should be done to protect them from the troublesome neighbourhood of persons who now may not scruple to intrude among them.

The critic suggested "that a price of a seat in the boxes should be raised to six shillings, or that of a seat in the pit lowered to three."  The management was paying attention.  Five days later, a notice appeared in The Evening Post that announced the new rates of 75 cents for boxes and 37.5 cents for the pit.  (The cost of a box would equal $24.50 today.)

On November 25, 1826, exactly 43 years after Washington assembled his retinue at the Bull's Head, the site was commemorated in the New York Theatre with a "Grand Military Gala Night."  An announcement in The Evening Post said it would be in "celebration of the Evacuation of this city by the British Army," adding, "It is expected that the theatre will on this evening be honored by the presence of his Excellency the Governor and suite, and several Officers of distinction.  The front of the Theatre will be splendidly illuminated."

watercolor by Alexander Jackson Davis, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The success of the New York Theatre caused a logistical problem.  On December 20, 1826, Mayor Philip Hone announced new traffic laws, "in order to prevent the difficulty and confusion which has existed among the carriages in attendance at the New York Theatre."  To keep vehicles moving, among his seven directives was that the theater would employ an attendant "to open the doors and let down the steps of the carriages, and no driver will be permitted on any pretence [sic] to leave his box."

Among the first actors to appear was Edwin Forrest, who performed in the role of Damon in Damon & Pythias on November 21, 1826.  The Evening Post remarked, "This very promising young actor has already gained great credit."  Two months later, however, the critic was less generous.  "His voice, however, wants cultivation, and there is occasionally too much violence of declamation and extravagance of gesture."

Forrest, according to Thomas A. Bogar, was paid $28 a week (about $915 today).  By the end of the season, he was earning $200 per week.

Forrest's large income was by no means routine for most actors.  To support them, theaters would hold "ticket nights," on which all the ticket sales went directly to the actors.  Loyal fans would mob the theaters on those nights to support their favorite actors.  

The practice horribly backfired on July 19, 1827.  That night two of the cast members were taken sick.  The New York Courier reported, "consequently, a dance was omitted, and one farce substituted for another."  The audience was enraged.  The article said the theater "was a disgraceful scene of riot and disorder at this elegant establishment."  Several of the "beautiful lamps" were broken and some other damage done.  The newspaper said, "We do not believe that any blame can attach to the manager; he did all his power, and endeavored to explain all things, but when did ever a furious mob listen to reason."

The Evening Post's journalist who imagined that the New York Theatre and the leaden box within its cornerstone would last far into the future was woefully mistaken.  On the night of May 26, 1828, a fire broke out.  Before morning, Ithiel Town's handsome Greek Revival edifice was burned to the ground.

Joseph Sera's Greek Revival design honored its predecessor.  Bourne Views of New York, 1828 (copyright expired)

On its site, a new venue, the Bowery Theatre, designed by Joseph Sera, was erected.  Completed in 1828, it burned in 1836.

The 1890 Isaac Bitterman House - 131 East 95th Street

 

Real estate operator Francis Joseph Schnugg hired architect Frank Wennemer in 1889 to design eight rowhouses along East 95th Street near Lexington Avenue.  Completed the following year, the 17-foot-wide homes reflected a mixture of historic styles, mostly neo-Grec and Romanesque Revival.  Wennemer gave No. 131, however, a splash of Gothic Revival.

Three stories tall above a high English basement, the parlor and basement levels were faced in planar brownstone and the upper floors in variegated beige brick.  Drip moldings above the openings--elliptically arched at the parlor and square-headed at the second--were typical of Gothic Revival.  The round-arched windows of the top floor with their brownstone voussoirs were Romanesque.  And the frieze of the pressed metal cornice was decorated with neo-Classical swags.

Real estate operator Isaac Bitterman purchased three of the newly completed houses from Schnugg, paying the equivalent of $770,000 each today.  He retained 131 East 95th Street for his family.

Unlike many families in the neighborhood, the Bittermans did not appear in society columns regarding dinner parties, receptions or summer travels.  Even when they announced their daughter's engagement in the New York Herald on June 17, 1894, they were brutally succinct: "Paul Hirschfield to Hattie Bitterman, of No. 131 East 95th st.  No cards."

Three months later, the Bittermans sold the house to Alexander A. Jordan, who resold it in 1898 to Jacob and Eda Newberger.  Newberger was a director of the Chilton Special Machine Co. and a commissioner of deeds.  The couple had at least two daughters, Cora and Sadie.

While the staffs within the homes of wealthy families had specific duties--chambermaid, server, or lady's maid, for instance--those who worked for middle-class families took on several tasks.  On April 10, 1899, Eda Newberger placed an ad in the New York Journal and Advertiser that read: "Cook--Jewish girl that can cook, wash and iron; private house.  131 East 95th st."

Cora Newberger's engagement to Jake Kahn was announced on March 25, 1900, and on December 14, 1902 Sadie's engagement to Alexander Steinhardt was announced.

Now empty-nesters, on April 5, 1906 Jacob and Eda Newberger sold 131 East 95th Street to Frank Berkley Rapp and his wife, the former Anna G. Reilly.  Frank was a member of the General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen of the City of New York, and Anna invested in real estate and owned several other properties on this block.  Their country home was in Belmar, New Jersey.  The couple had three daughters--Frances A., Gertrude Rose Marie, and Katherine Ursula--and two sons, Harry Anderson and W. J. Rapp.

W. J. Rapp was an ambitious businessman.  In 1917 alone, he co-founded three corporations, the silk fabrics firm of J. & G. Schofield, Inc.; the Anglo-Oriental Shipping Co.; and the Sterling Silk Mills.

The first of the Rapps' daughters to marry was Frances, whose engagement to Irvin Carlyle Davis was announced on August 7, 1917.  The newlyweds moved into the East 95th Street house in what must have been snug conditions.

Gertrude Rose Marie Rapp's engagement to William W. C. Griffin was announced in January 1920 and the wedding took place in the Church of St. Francis de Sales on April 7.  Gertrude's sister, Katherine Ursula, was her only attendant.  

The church in which Gertrude's wedding was held would be the scene of her father's funeral the following year.  Frank Berkley Rapp died on August 31, 1921 and his funeral was held on September 3.

Like the Bittermans, the Rapp family's names rarely appeared in the society pages.  A rare exception was an entertainment that Frances hosted on February 20, 1925.  The New York Times reported, "Miss Marie Heide Leyendecker...was the special guest at a bridge and tea given yesterday afternoon by Mrs. Irvin Carlyle Davis at her home, 131 East Ninety-fifth Street."

The year 1927 was a socially important one for the Rapps.  On January 12, Anna announced Katherine Ursula's engagement to Joseph Lewis Rusch; and two weeks later, Harry Anderson Rapp's engagement to Elizabeth Regine Reilly was announced.

Exactly one year later, on January 12, 1928, The New York Times reported that Anna Rapp had swapped her house with that of Walter K. and Charlotte Earle at 134 East 92nd Street.  Before the Earles moved into 131 East 95th Street, they made substantial changes.

The couple hired architect John H. Knubal to update the residence.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to slightly below grade.  The original doorway was seamlessly converted to a window.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Walter Keese Earle was 41 years old and his wife, the former Charlotte Fellows Harding, was 40 when they moved into 131 East 95th Street.  A specialist in trial law, Earle received his law degree from Harvard University in 1912 and had been a partner in the law firm of Shearman & Sterling since 1919.

The family maintained a country home in Oyster Bay, Long Island.  Fascinated by whaling, Walter was the founder of the Whaling Museum Society in Cold Spring Harbor and was the author of Scrimshaw Folk Art of the Whalers.

Charlotte was active in religious and historical organizations.  She was chairman of the Altar Guild of Christ Episcopal Church in Oyster Bay, and was a member of the National Society of Colonial Dames and the Daughters of the American Revolution.  She was also president of the Friends of Raynham Hall, a Revolutionary War shrine on Long Island.  

The couple's children, Anne French, Morris and Margaret, were 13, 11, and 8 years old in 1928.  On December 2 that year, The New York Times reported, "A daughter was born to Mr. and Mrs. Walter K. Earle of 131 East Ninety-fifth Street on Wednesday."  The little girl was named Louise Harding.

Anne French Earle attended the private Chapin School before enrolling in Bennington College.  Her parents introduced her to society at a dinner dance in 1933.  A member of the Junior League, her engagement to Roy R. Buxton Attride of London was announced in October 1936.  The wedding took place in St. John's Protestant Episcopal Church in Cold Spring Harbor on June 26, 1937.

Margaret W. Earle was introduced to society during the winter season of 1939-1940.  By the time of Louise Harding Earle's debut on November 30, 1946, the family had moved to 1172 Park Avenue.

No. 131 East 95th Street became home to Vincent Sardi (born Melchiorre Pio Vincenzo Sardi), his wife Eugenia, and their adult children, Anna and Vincent, Jr.  

Born in Italy on December 23, 1885, Sardi went to sea at the age of 10 and by 12 was working in restaurant kitchens in London.  He emigrated to the United States in 1907, getting a job as a waiter.  In 1921 he and his wife, the former Eugenia Pallera, opened The Little Restaurant on West 44th Street.  Patrons routinely called it "Sardi's," and so the couple changed the name.

By the time the couple moved into 131 East 95th Street, Sardi's was world-famous, and The New York Times called Vincent, "host to the theater world."  The dining room of Sardi's, famously lined with the signed caricatures of Broadway stars, repeatedly appeared in scenes in motion pictures and television dramas.  The couple also owned Sardi's East at 123 East 54th Street.  In 1947, a year after purchasing 131 East 94th Street, Vincent retired and Vincent, Jr. took over the restaurant's management.

At 2:00 on the morning of November 22, 1968, Vincent Sardi took his beagle along East 94th Street between Second and Third Avenues when he was set upon by a thug.  He told a reporter from The New York Times, "He caught me with my hands in my pockets and he got off a beautiful shot.  He took a dog chain I carried--partly for protection--and used it on me."

Sardi said, "We had quite a fight."  While the two grappled, the dog ran into the nearby garage where Sardi parked his car.  Its nervous yapping alerted an attendant who ran out armed with a metal pipe.  In the meantime, a woman in a nearby house was wakened by the ruckus and called police.

The attacker grabbed Sardi's wallet, hailed a passing cab and jumped in.  Another driver, however, sensing what was going on, blocked the cab.  By now, two more men from the garage had appeared on the scene.  They assisted in capturing the robber, 50-year-old Jackie Cooper.  He was charged with robbery, possession of a dangerous weapon and assault.  A grateful Sardi told The New York Times, "People always say nobody helps you, but the other night about eight people helped me."

Vincent Sardi died at the age of 83 in Saranac Lake, New York on November 19, 1969.  In reporting his death, The New York Times remarked that for 50 years, Sardi's restaurant had been "the club, mess hall, lounge, post office, saloon and marketplace of the people of the theater." 

Upon Vincent Sardi, Jr.'s retirement in 1997, he moved to Warren, Vermont, where he died at the age of 91 in January 2007.

A restoration of the exterior of 131 East 95th Street was completed in 2013.  It included the refabrication of the lost stoop and doorway.

photographs by the author

George Fred Pelham's 1893 332 West 51st Street

 

In September 1890, real estate operator William Ramsey purchased the three, three-story brick houses at 330 through 334 West 51st Street.  Each of them was 20-feet wide, giving Ramsey a 60-foot wide parcel upon which to build.  He would replace the three structures with two flat buildings.

Ramsey commissioned George Frederick Pelham to design the the structures.  In doing so, he was, perhaps, taking a risk.  The 23-year-old architect had just opened his office that year.  Born in 1867 in Ottawa, Ontario, he was the son of architect George Brown Pelham, who brought his family to New York City in 1875.  George had entered his father's firm as a draftsman.  Ramsey's commission was among the earliest--if not the first--he received.

Construction on the identical, Romanesque Revival-style buildings was completed in 1891.  The first and second floors were faced in brownstone and the upper three in orange brick.  The arched entrance, which sat above a four-step stoop, and the panels below the windows were carved with intricate Romanesque-style carvings.  Above a molded cornice, the second floor was faced in planar stone, its openings framed in undressed brownstone and capped with dramatic, flaring voussoirs.  

The third and fourth floors sat between molded intermediate cornices.  Double-height brick piers between the openings were capped with carved medieval-style capitals.  They were connected by layered stone arches, the single spandrel of which was filled with elaborate foliate carvings.  The arched windows of the top floor wore brownstone voussoirs capped with stone eyebrows.  

Described as "double flats," the buildings had two apartments per floor.  An advertisement for both buildings in April 1893 offered, "Elegantly decorated apartments of 7 rooms and bath, all light; steam heat, &c.; rent $45 and upward."  Given the location on the eastern edge of Hell's Kitchen, the rent was somewhat pricey.  The base rent would translate to $1,625 in 2026.

Among the initial residents of 332 West 51st Street were Dr. William S. McMurdy and his wife, Fannie, who were married in 1890.  Born in 1858, McMurdy was an 1881 graduate of Princeton University and earned his medical degree at the College of Physicians and Surgeons. He started his practice in 1889.

Like almost all doctors, McMurdy was called upon day and night.  On April 13, 1895, The Evening World began an article saying, "A small epidemic of insanity swept over Manhattan Island during last night."  Among the "several cases of a more or less violent nature," was that of John Kane, a driver for Hook and Ladder Truck 21.  Two years earlier, he suffered a head injury while fighting a fire and "since that time he has been acting queerly," explained The Evening World.  In January 1895, his condition became so severe that he was put on sick leave.

At 1:00 on the morning of April 13, Kane told his wife that "he was going out to find the captain of his company and kill him."  Alarmed, Mrs. Kane summoned Dr. McMurdy.  When he arrived, Kane told him that he knew that he was insane, but could not stop his murderous impulses.  "He asked, for the safety of his wife and child, that he be taken to a hospital," reported The Evening World.  Kane was taken by ambulance to Roosevelt Hospital and later removed to Bellevue Hospital.

Mrs. E. Lambert, who lived here as early as 1898, was the guardian of her 19-year-old nephew, George Austin.  He left their apartment on August 23 and did not come home.  Five days later Mrs. Lambert was frantic.  The New York Herald reported, "She said she had made a round of all the hospitals of the city and had caused an alarm to be sent out by the police, but has received no tidings of the missing youth."  It is unclear whether Austin was ever found.

The unmarried Marie Quinn was pulled into a bizarre incident involving one of New York City's wealthiest bachelors, Robert Goelet, in November 1903.  Eleanor Anderson, who lived next door at 330 West 51st Street, asked Marie to go to St. Patrick's Cathedral and "vouch for her character" to Father Lavelle.  Marie did so.  (Eleanor was a telegraph operator, the daughter of a Sixth Avenue restaurant owner, and the sister of "the champion oyster opener of Sixth avenue," as described by the New York Herald.)

On November 3, Robert Goelet left his Newport mansion to travel to New York City, "wondering who had put into circulation a story published yesterday afternoon that he had married a Miss Eleanor Anderson of 330 West Fifty-first street," reported the New York Herald.  Goelet told reporters, "I have not the pleasure of the lady's acquaintance.  I never even heard of her existence until the newspaper story of my marriage to her appeared."  Additionally, said the Episcopalian millionaire, "Only once in my life have I been in the Cathedral, and then I only went to look at the place."

Marie Quinn could not help in the mystery.  She told a reporter that Eleanor had not told her the groom's name.  Father Lavelle was equally unhelpful, saying, "Miss Anderson's matrimonial arrangements...were none of the public's business."  What was certain, however, is that Robert Goelet was not Eleanor Anderson's new husband.

Although the residents of 332 West 51st Street were middle class, they were affluent enough to afford domestic help.  Albert Hartog and his wife employed a maid, Mable Lewis, in 1905.  On September 5, the New York Herald reported, "she disappeared after she had been at work a few days, taking a watch and pin worth $240."  (The value of the items would equal more than $8,800 today.)

As it turned out, this was not Mabel's first offense.  Young women often practiced what police called the "service game," taking domestic jobs just to steal valuables.  "When police looked up the woman's record they found that her picture is in the rogues' gallery and that she has served time for similar thefts," reported the New York Herald.

On September 3, Hartog was walking along Eighth Avenue when he saw Mable at 54th Street.  The New York Herald reported that he, "took her by the back of the neck and marched her to the West Forty-seventh street station, where she confessed."  The pin was recovered, but the watch had apparently been pawned. 

Albert Wilcox and his wife lived here in November 1934, when they had a young houseguest, Private John G. McFadden, a soldier stationed at the Military Academy at West Point.  Among McFadden's extracurricular duties was the "custodianship of the mule that is the Army mascot."  The soldier was on his way to Pennsylvania where the Army-Navy football game was scheduled to be played on December 1 at Franklin Field.  (The New York Times explained, "When the Army team plays out of town...the regular mascot stays at home and a substitute is hired at the place where the game is played.)

McFadden had met the Wilcoxes on a previous visit to New York City.  When he arrived at the train station, they were there to meet him and took him to their apartment for a night's rest.  The visit ended up very badly.

When he awoke, McFadden realized his watch was gone.  He accused Albert Wilcox of theft and had him arrested.  Wilcox denied stealing the watch, but was held without bail on a grand larceny charge.  The New York Times reported on December 3, that McFadden, "missed the Army-Navy football game on Saturday and lost his watch as well."  Private McFadden grumbled, "I wish I had stayed with my mule."

Another resident, elevator operator Al Jenkins, found himself behind bars two years later.  He and his union members were on strike in 1936.  Just before noon on March 4, he and another striker went to the 20th floor of 135 West 26th Street to confront two strikebreakers.  Concealed under their coats  were "heavy axe-handles," as described by The New York Times.  Jenkins and James Caffrey were arrested for felonious assault.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Charles Schwartz occupied an apartment here in 1944.  He and Floyd Markowitz operated a shady business in the vacant storefront of 254 West 49th Street.  Detectives told reporters "they had been watching the store for some time, after learning that illegal liquor was being distributed somewhere in the neighborhood."  On March 3, the Police Commissioner's "confidential squad" raided the space.  The New York Times reported that they "seized fourteen cases of what they declared was bootleg whisky, with counterfeit labels and revenue stamps."  Schwartz and Markowitz were arrested, charged with "possessing untaxed liquors."

By mid-century, 332 West 51st Street was being operated as a furnished rooming house run by Mrs. Frank Davis.  Among her tenants in 1951 was 28-year-old Tillie Goldstein.  Patrons of the Radio City Music Hall in the summer of 1951 might have encountered Tillie carrying a container labeled "Give for Mt. Ebenezer Baptist Church."  On June 4, The New York Times said she had been arrested for "soliciting without a permit."  Tillie admitted she had collected "maybe $300 or $400" for the church.  The Rev. Lafayette W. Rogers, rector of Mt. Ebenezer Baptist Church, said she had donated $8.

Also living at 332 West 51st Street at the time was a celebrity of sorts, Alvin A. Kelly, known nationwide as Shipwreck Kelly.  Born on May 13, 1893 and a World War I Navy veteran, he became famous as "the redoubtable flagpole sitter and stuntman in the Roaring Twenties," as described by The New York Times.  The newspaper recalled:

His greatest feat was his stay on top of a flagpole on the Steel Pier at Atlantic City for 1,177 hours, or more than forty-nine days, in the summer of 1930.  The vogue for flagpole-sitting and goldfish-swallowing dwindled about that time, and it is believed that the record still stands.

Alvin A. "Shipwreck" Kelly as he appeared in 1939.  Associated Press, October 12, 1952

Mrs. Frank Davis told reporters that Shipwreck Kelly "suffered from an asthmatic heart and hardening of the arteries."  At 7:00 on the night of October 11, 1952, he fell onto the sidewalk "a few doors from the furnished flat at 332 West Fifty-first Street where he had been living alone on home relief," reported The New York Times.  He died on the scene, "with a scrapbook full of old newspaper clippings under his arm," said the article.

In the early 2000s, the cornice was missing.  image via google streetview.

Several residents of the rooming house continued to be on the wrong side of the law.  On December 2, 1960, Eric Larson was arrested for attempting "to extort $3,000 from James Muro, a Corona, Queens tow-truck operator," as described by The New York Times.  And in August 1966, 21-year-old Lanny Arbucci was arrested for selling "pep pills and capsules."  Charged with what was perhaps the most disturbing crime was resident Carlos Antrades.  The 33-year-old was arrested in August 1986 with promoting the prostitution of boys as young as 14 years old.

By the early 2000s, the building and its next door twin were seriously neglected.  On December 17, 2014, Manhattan Community Board Four reported complaints of "vermin infestation, lack of building services, non-working bathrooms and sporadic hot water."  Lantern Group purchased both properties for conversion to single-room-occupancy units.  

A full-gut renovation resulted in one-person apartments "available to single persons," according to 6sqft on August 23, 2017.  The article noted the building offered, "24-hour security, an on-site resident manager, community room, backyard, laundry room, and on-site social services for low-income or formerly homeless households with special needs."  Including in the renovation was the reproduction of the lost cornice.

photographs by the author