Monday, February 10, 2025

The Lost Manhattan Life Insurance Bldg - 64-68 Broadway

 

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

On May 14, 1892, the Record & Guide announced, "The Manhattan Life Insurance Company means to have the finest building on their new site at Nos. 64 and 66 Broadway, and 17 and 19 New street, that architectural and building skill and money can assure them."  An open competition, said the article, "ought to result in a structure in every way creditable to the company and the city."  The specifications included "a building of sixteen stories on Broadway and seventeen on New street."

The competition drew the attention of Francis H. Kimball and George Kramer Thompson.  Both were early proponents of steel framed construction.  The pair partnered as Kimball & Thompson and would remain together through 1898.  The firm's first design won the commission for the Manhattan Life Insurance Building.

Kimball & Thompson's task was more daunting on the engineering side than the design.  On July 11, 1893, The Syracuse Daily Journal noted, "This is to be the highest office building in the world."  Therefore, said the article, Kimball & Thompson was, "introducing an interesting process for securing permanent and stable foundations in yielding soil or where quicksand abounds...It is nothing more or less than the sinking of caissons to bed rock."  (It took George Kramer Thompson's personal guarantee that the process would work before the Commissioner of Buildings gave approval.)  Fifteen massive caissons, varying "in size from 10 feet in diameter up to nearly 25 feet square" were sunk into the bedrock.  

While the skyscraper rose, William Harvey Birkmire published his 1893 Skeleton Construction in Buildings.  In it, he mentioned, "The new building erected by the Manhattan Life Insurance Company at 64, 66, and 68 Broadway, New York, is undoubtedly one of the most conspicuous and the highest office-building in the world."  The Renaissance Revival-style building would be clad in limestone on the Broadway elevation, and light-colored brick and terra cotta on New Street side.

Skeleton Construction in Buildings, 1893 (copyright expired)

Ground was broken on September 1, 1893.  Completed in 1894, the Manhattan Life Insurance Company rose 16 floors on the Broadway side, capped with a three-story tower.  In the spandrels of the two-story, arched entrance were cartouches inscribed with the year of the company's founding, the year of the building's construction, and the seal of the firm.

The building had five hydraulic elevators for the public and two electric elevators that were reserved for the Manhattan Life Insurance employees.  "All the floors, halls, and corridors are laid with mosaic," said Birkmire, "and tile are [sic] largely used throughout."

Because office workers in 1892 were essentially all men, Kimball & Thompson needed to provide only one restroom per floor.  Skeleton Construction in Buildings, 1893 (copyright expired)

The soaring height of the Manhattan Life Insurance Building inspired awe and, in some instances, alarm.  On March 22, 1894, The World commented, "Almost without exception the constant stream of passers-by pauses momentarily to survey the impressive height of the new Manhattan Life Insurance Company's building."  Even the workmen who had erected the edifice had "punctuated their enjoyment of the contents of their dinner-pails by frequent glances at the graceful lines of the enormous creation of steel and stone that towers 350 feet above them."

As the steel construction rose, in 1893 the Insurance Record captioned this illustration, "Push dem clouds away."  (copyright expired)

When the building was being erected, meteorologist Farmer Dunn from the Weather Bureau in Washington D.C. "arranged with the insurance people for the tower," related the New York Journal & Advertiser.  The Metropolitan Life Insurance Company provided the 19th-floor room in the tower rent-free as a weather observatory.  A curious condition of the contract was that the terms would last, "so long as Farmer Dunn was in charge."

A stereoscope slide shows the Manhattan Life Insurance Building soaring above the neighboring structures.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

New Yorkers regularly received updates from the lofty heights.  During a stifling heat wave in 1896, for instance, the New York Journal & Advertiser reported on August 7, 

The air New Yorkers breathed at noon yesterday was loaded with moisture to within 13 per cent of complete saturation.  That air was heated to 91 degrees on top of the Manhattan Life Insurance building, where the Government's weather observers are, and to 105 degrees on the pavements, where the thousands sweltered.

Two months later, Cardinal Francesco Satolli, the Papal Delegate in the United States, visited New York City.  On October 14, The Sun reported, "The Weather Bureau in the Manhattan Life Insurance building engaged the Cardinal's attention after luncheon, and he saw how Mr. Dunn's weather gauges worked."  The priest was shown the path of an upcoming storm and Dunn "promised to send him a forecast of the weather for the week which he will spend on the ocean."

In the summer of 1898, "unpleasantness," as termed by the New York Journal & Advertiser, developed between Farmer Dunn and Weather Bureau Chief Willis L. Moore in Washington D.C.  Dunn resigned and was replaced by a Mr. Emery.  On August 26, the newspaper reported that the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company had cancelled the gratis arrangement with the bureau and was now demanding $3,000 a year "for the privilege of dishing up weather for New York or move."  (The annual rent would translate to about $112,000 in 2025.)  The Weather Bureau refused.  Two months later, on October 18, the New York Journal & Advertiser reported that Forecaster Emery had moved the observatory to the American Surety Company building.

In the meantime, tenants in the building were varied.  Perhaps the most unexpected was the offices of the Cuban Junta.  On January 29, 1896, The Journal reported on the sinking of the steamship J. W. Hawkins, "outward bound, with $200,000 worth of arms and ammunition that were destined for the Cuban revolutionists."  Also on the ship were 120 men "going to fight for the revolutionary cause."  All but six were drowned.  The survivors were brought to the Cuban Junta offices here.

Among other firms in the building that year were E. K. Pedrick & Co., a contracting firm; the Pelletreau Lithographing Co.; and the Manhattan Investment Company, a brokerage firm headed by George E. Carpenter.  Arthur M. Pelletreau's business involvement was not limited to lithography.  He was a partner with George E. Carpenter.  Both men were arrested on January 25, 1896.  The Journal reported they "will appear to answer a charge of grand larceny in the Centre Street Court to-morrow morning."  They were accused of swindling a client, John Kroder, out of $10,000.

The skyscraper was worthy of a picture postcard at the turn of the last century.

At the turn of the century, the Manhattan Life Insurance Company Building was mainly home to brokerage firms.  The ground floor was home to the Knickerbocker Trust Company.  In 1907, the Knickerbocker became part of a shady deal organized by F. Augustus Heinze and Charles W. Morse to corner the market of the United Copper Company.  The scheme disastrously failed on October 15 when the share price of United Copper crashed.  Morse and Heinze were ruined and depositors began a run on the Knickerbocker Trust Company.

Six days after the collapse, president Charles T. Barney was asked by the board to resign.  The next day, the Knickerbocker was forced to suspend operations.  Unlike his co-conspirators, Barney was not ruined financially.  His personal fortune was estimated at the time to be $2.5 million--or about $80.3 million in 2025.  But he was disgraced and humiliated and on the morning of November 14, he shot himself in his mansion at 103 East 38th Street.  The scandal greatly precipitated the Financial Panic of 1907, the greatest economic disaster until the Great Depression.  

Three years earlier, the Manhattan Life Insurance Company added a narrow extension to the north, just two bays wide.

On February 18, 1928, The New York Times headlined an article, "66 Broadway Sold; Long A Landmark."  The buyer was the Central Union Trust Company, which owned the adjacent property.  Real estate operators who predicted the vintage structure would be razed would be proven wrong.  One of the first skyscrapers in the country, it would survive nearly four more decades.  

In his 2008 The American Skyscraper 1850-1940, A Celebration of Height, Joseph J. Korom, Jr. writes, "Then, catastrophe arrived when the building was only 69 years old; in a 1963 act of utter desecration, the Manhattan Life Insurance Building was demolished."

Saturday, February 8, 2025

The Museum of the City of New York - 1220 Fifth Avenue

 

photo by Beyond My Ken

Born in Scotland in 1862, Henry Collins Brown arrived in New York City in 1871.  With an unexpected interest in the city's history, he began accumulating articles and other information about New York City as a teenager.  In 1913, he wrote one of his many books to come, Book of Old New-York, and in 1916 revived the 19th century Valentine's Manual of New York (tweaking the name to Valentine's Manual of Old New York).  He additionally wrote articles on New York City history and architecture for The Sun.  

Around 1920, Brown began lobbying support for a city museum.  In 1923, he assembled a board of directors and incorporated the Museum of the City of New York.  The Parks Commission loaned Gracie Mansion for its use.  On April 30, 1924, the New York Evening Post reported, "the old mansion, which is to be known as the Museum of the City of New York, will eventually be fitted up in authentic furniture of the early days of New York, and contributions are being received from descendants of the original Gracies and other settlers of that period."  The Museum published a monthly bulletin, The New York Gazette, the name of William Bradford's newspaper founded around 1725.

The New York Gazette, 1925 (copyright expired)

Brown's residency at the museum he envisioned and, essentially, created was turbulent and short-lived.  In 1926, he was removed.  The following year, a competition among five architects was held for designs for a permanent home for the museum.  The city had provided the Fifth Avenue blockfront from 103rd to 104th Streets with the caveat that the museum would raise $2 million by June 1, 1928 for construction and continued maintenance.

On April 15, 1928, The Brooklyn Eagle reported that Joseph H. Freedlander had won the competition.  Among the guidelines had been that the building "must not cost more than $900,000," said the article.

The Museum released Freedlander's accepted rendering in 1928.  Brooklyn Eagle, May 17, 1928 

The New York Times, on April 8, 1928, described the plans as, "a U type structure of Colonial design with a formal Colonial garden located between the wings, facing Central Park.  On the north and south sides of the garden will be arcades suitable for outdoor exhibits of Colonial doorways and other works, and in the west ends of the structure there will be niches for statues of De Witt Clinton and Peter Stuyvesant."

A future addition to the rear, said the article, would complete "the H type layout [and] will double the capacity of the building and will include a rear courtyard."  Freedlander told reporters that the future extensions were designed that they "may be erected without tearing down or remodeling any part of the main section."

The New York Times mentioned, "There will be a special carriage entrance for visitors on the 103d Street side of the building.  This feature of the plans provides space for a ladies' retiring room, a smoking room and space for museum receptions."

The advent of the Great Depression was likely a factor in Freedlander's original design being tweaked.  The three arched entrances on Fifth Avenue were replaced with a sweeping staircase, for instance.  The construction cost $1.5 million, according to The Sullivan [Missouri] News on February 5, 1931.  As the building rose, the newspaper described, "The building...is in Georgian Colonial style and the same style prevails throughout the interior.  In the entrance hall is a circular staircase of solid marble construction without steel support."

The brick and marble structure was dedicated on January 11, 1932.  The Brooklyn Eagle called it, "rich and impressive," and said, "It is a handsome building of a lavishness in material and detail not paralleled elsewhere among recent buildings."  The critic, however, was unsure about Freedman's choice of architectural style.  "The advisability of using a definite period for a museum which endeavors to be undated, that does not stress any particular period, is open to question."

photograph by Wurts Bros. 1932, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York 

In addition to the paintings, maritime collection, and thousands of New York-related relics, period rooms (called "alcoves") were installed.  On May 16, 1935, The Nassau Daily Review reported on the newly opened Cherry Street Alcove.  The article said the "delightful alcove" was "furnished correctly with furniture and appointments dating from the year 1760 to the year 1770." 

When John D. Rockefeller, Jr. demolished his father's former mansion at 4 West 54th Street in 1938 to make way for the Museum of Modern Art, two of its rooms and their original furniture were installed here.  The following year, the Dutch Alcove opened.  On November 28, 1939, The New York Times wrote, "The latest addition is a foreroom or living room of a New York Dutch house, with heavy beamed ceiling, Dutch door, casement window, and wide floor boards."

In 1938, The New York Times remarked that the museum's annual attendance topped 200,000 and the building was already no longer sufficient.  Nevertheless, the expansion to the rear, most likely because of the ongoing Depression, was deferred.

Just over a decade after the building was dedicated, the bronze statues of Alexander Hamilton and De Witt Clinton, sculpted by Alexander Wienman, were placed within the marble niches outside.  Mayor Fiorello La Guardia was the chief speaker at the unveiling on January 13, 1941.

The New York Times, January 14, 1941

By the turn of the century, the museum's collection had outgrown the building.  In 2000, the Board of Directors voted to relocate the museum to the former Tweed Courthouse.  Mayor Mike Bloomberg, however, upset those plans by designating the former courthouse as the headquarters of the Board of Education.

On November 6, 2005, Christopher Gray began an article in The New York Times saying, "The on-again off-again expansion project of the Museum 0f the City of New York is on again--and this time it seems to be for certain."  The article said that construction "to build into its wide backyard, as was originally planned," would commence the next month.  Simultaneously, work to renovate and modernize the interiors of the original building began.  (The interior renovations would take a decade to complete.)  Designed by James Stewart Polshek & Associates, the two-story addition was dedicated in February 2008.

Two years later, "as part of the ongoing expansion and modernization" of the museum, as reported by Antiques and The Arts Weekly on April 7, 2009, the two Rockefeller rooms were deinstalled and donated to two institutions--the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts and The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

photograph by Beyond My Ken

Joseph J. Freedlander's dignified Georgian structure was designated an individual New York City landmark on January 24, 1967.  In its designation report, the Commission disagreed with The Brooklyn Eagle's 1932 assessment, saying, "the Late Georgian Style, employed for the Museum, is appropriate for a building whose contents depict the history of New York City, the first seat of the Capitol of the United States, when the English Georgian Style was still dominant in this City.

Friday, February 7, 2025

The Abraham Parsell House - 46 Macdougal Street


Little remains of the house's 1826 Federal style appearance.

Around 1826, the two-and-a-half story house at 46 Macdougal Street was completed.  Faced in red Flemish bond brick, its peaked roof would have been punctured by one or two dormers.  In 1827, it was home to miniature painter Abraham Rykers Parsell and his wife, the former Mary Richards.

Parsell was born in Somerset, New Jersey in 1791.  He and Mary were married in 1819 and they had a son, John H. Parsell, who was six years old when they moved in.  (Two other children, William G. and Mary Elizabeth, had died.)  

Miniature portraits had been popular in America for decades.  Parsell's success and significant following were reflected in his working for years from the Macdougal Street house, rather than traveling from city to city as most miniaturists did.  His oval paintings on ivory were placed in pendant frames or in lockets.

This miniature was almost assuredly painted in the Macdougal Street house.  image via leslieantiques.com

In 1845, John, who was now 24 years old, was listed in directories as an "artist."  That career choice may have been more his father's wish than his own.  Six years later, now married to Mary Starr, he was living on Commerce Street and had changed his profession to "letter carrier."  He would continue to work for the post office for decades.

With their son gone, the Parsells took in roomers, a common practice.  Their ad in the New York Herald in 1853 read, "Boarding--Two or three single gentlemen can be accommodated with bedrooms and sitting room in a private family, where only two or three boarders will be taken, breakfast and tea, and dinner of the Sabbath.  Terms moderate."

As the ad specified, Mary Parsell was taking in roomers, not running a boarding house.  Her tenants would receive one meal per week--on Sunday.

Abraham Parsell died here on February 10, 1856.  His funeral was held in the house three days later.  

Mary apparently went to live with her son and daughter-in-law and 46 Macdougal street was leased to Rev. Duncan Dunbar.  He and Abraham Parsell were born the same year, in 1791, but many miles away from one another.  Dunbar was born in the northern Highlands of Scotland.  He moved to Aberdeen at the age of 19, where he married Christina Mitchel.  She was described by The Baptist Encyclopedia of 1881 as, "a lady of a gentle, loving disposition, and of deep, earnest piety."  The couple immigrated to America in December 1823 and on June 10, 1828 Dunbar accepted the pastorship of the Macdougal Street Baptist Church.  In 1850, he left to serve at a Philadelphia church, but returned to the Macdougal Street congregation in 1853.

As was the case with almost all clergymen, both congregants and strangers might knock on his door at any hour, seeking solace or service.  The parlor, therefore, was sometimes a makeshift chapel.  On November 3, 1858, for instance, The Family Herald reported that Rev. Dunbar had married Robert Allen and Ellen Lenihan "at his residence, 46 Macdougal street," on October 9.

Rev. Duncan Dunbar died on July 18, 1864.  John Parsell moved back into his childhood home.  Living with him and Mary were their 15-year-old son, Theodore P., and Mary's mother, Mary Starr.  The 84-year-old widow died on August 9, 1865, shortly after they moved in.  Her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

John was still listed as a letter carrier in 1874 when Theodore was working as a clerk.  That year John hired builder Jackson Stymuts to enlarge the house with a rear extension.

The following year, John H. Parsell set off on an astounding adventure.  He left New York headed to California, going through Panama and Mexico to get there.  Interestingly, his detailed journal does not mention his wife, who apparently remained at home in New York.

Before leaving, Parsell sold 46 Macdougal Street to George Clipp, who immediately raised the attic to a full floor with an Italianate-style cornice.

George Clipp was in the piano business.  Living with the family in 1876 were Frederick Klein, a clerk; and Patrick Callahan, who was a hatter.  

Clipp did not enjoy his remodeled home for very long.  He died on January 4, 1877 at the age of 69.  Interestingly, his funeral was not held in the house, as would have been expected, but at St. John's Chapel on Varick Street.

The house was purchased by Hannah R. and George N. Earl, who lived in Little Falls, New Jersey.  They leased the house for just over a decade, selling it to Anna Kroeger for $10,500 in August 1889.  (The price would translate to about $359,000 in 2025.)

Kroeger operated 46 Macdougal Street either as a boarding or rooming house.  Her tenants were middle-class professionals.  In 1897, for instance, they included John Maher, a marshal; William F. McGuiness, who was a clerk; and printer William F. Higgins.  Owen McCarton, who also lived here, listed no profession, suggesting he was retired.

When Anna Kroeger transferred title to 46 Macdougal street to Adaline S. C. Kroeger in March 1911, the Department of Buildings described it as a tenement (the term covered all multi-family buildings).  Adaline would not retain ownership for long.  In 1914, she sold it to Pietro Nervo and Giuseppe Balbiani, partners in the P. Nervo, Balbiani & Co. bakery.

The pair hired architect Frank E. Vitolo to alter the ground floor for their bakery.  Six years later, they purchased the house next door at 44 Macdougal and brought Vitolo back to expand the bakery into both buildings.  

The Nervo and Balbiani families lived in the converted houses for decades.  The men eventually anglicized their names to Peter and Joseph, respectively.  On March 10, 1966, The Villager reported on Andrew S. Balbiani's admittance to the engineering and architectural firm Tippetts-Abbett-McCarthy-Stratton.  The article mentioned, "The Balbiani family lived at 46 Macdougal St., where his late father, Joseph, was partner in a bakery, P. Nervo, Balbiani and Co. for 30 years.

The joined ground floors of 44 and 46 Macdougal street were the bakery shop for decades.

In 1971, the bakery space was converted to a commercial art gallery.  By 1994, the Mission Grill occupied the space.  The restaurant marketed itself as "Cali-Mex food with 'square meal' portions."  

A renovation completed in 2009 resulted in a single-family home.  

photographs by the author

Thursday, February 6, 2025

Old St. Patrick's Convent and Girls' School - 32-36 Prince Street

 


During British rule, Roman Catholic worship was illegal in New York City.  And although anti-Catholic sentiments were still strong after the Revolution, the Roman Catholic population was such that on April 8, 1808 the sprawling diocese of New York was created--covering all of New York State, New Jersey, and several Long Island counties.  On May 14, 1815, the first Catholic cathedral in America, St. Patrick's, was dedicated at Mulberry and Spring Streets.

Two years later, Bishop John Connolly reached out to Elizabeth Seton, the founder of the Sisters of Charity in Emmitsburg, Maryland.  Hers was the first religious community of women in the United States, and in 1810 she opened St. Joseph Academy Emmitsburg.  In 1814, she sent sisters to establish an orphanage in Philadelphia.

In his 1877 A Popular History of the Catholic Church in the United States, John O'Kane Murray writes:

In 1817, Bishop Connolly, of New York...applied to the Superior-General of the Sisters of Charity, at Emmittsburg [sic], for some Sisters to take charge of an orphan asylum in his episcopal city.  The new mission was confided to the pious and zealous Sister Rose White, and two companions.  On the 13th of September they took charge of St. Patrick's Asylum, corner of Prince and Mott [sic] streets. 

Murray was mistaken regarding the original site.  
The "humble" structure, as he worded, sat at Prince and Mulberry Street.  When the nuns arrived in 1817, they cared for 30 Catholic orphans.  (The purpose of a Catholic orphanage was to prevent the foundlings and orphans from "being lost to the faith" in a Protestant institution.)

In 1824, land at the corner of Prince and Mott Streets, overlooking the churchyard of St. Patrick's Cathedral, was donated by C. Heeney as a site for a permanent structure.  When Bishop John Connolly died on February 6, 1825, construction had already begun.  On October 14, The Evening Post reported on the "charity sermon" to be preached by Rev. Mr. Power two days later at St. Peter's Church on Barclay Street.  The article said, "a collection [will be] taken up, the proceeds of which will be appropriated towards building the Orphan Asylum now erecting at the corner of Prince and Mott streets."

Completed in 1826, the dignified, Federal-style structure was impressive.  The architect, whose name is lost, configured the Prince Street elevation into three sections--the end pavilions projecting forward from the five-bay section.  The three-story-and-attic structure sat upon a brick basement level trimmed with brownstone quoins.  The attic levels of the end wings were designed as triangular pediments with round windows, while the center portion sprouted three tall, handsome dormers.  

The building was faced in red Flemish bond brick.  Its brownstone-framed entrance above a wide stoop was equal to that of the finest mansions in the city.  Below an elegant, leaded fanlight, Ionic columns flanked the paneled door against wood carved to imitate stone blocks.  On either side of the leaded sidelights, half-columns disappeared into the wall. 


On the Mott Street side, two prominent chimneys flanked the central gable, which incorporated an arched window.  At the base of the chimneys at this level were two blind quarter-round openings.

On Thanksgiving day 1828, the diocese published a plea in The Evening Post that said in part, "the wants of the Asylum are very pressing; during the coming winter there will be nearly ninety orphans to provide for, and when it is remembered that those are both fatherless and motherless, and have no friends on earth to look to, it is hoped this appeal in their behalf will be favourably [sic] received."

The article said that the Managers of the Orphan Asylum would open the building to the public the following day as "an opportunity of judging of its merit...At the same time, they will have an opportunity to examine the establishment throughout, and to obtain every information respecting the economy and regularity thereof."

The needs for the Orphan Asylum grew rapidly.  The sisters who cared and housed 30 orphans in 1817 were the wards of 140 children by January 1833.  

Four years later, the 11-year-old structure was threatened with demolition.  The aldermen considered a serious proposal in November 1837 that would extend Centre Street northward to meet the Bowery at the intersection of Bleecker Street.  The Street Committee favored the plan, saying it "would affect property less disadvantageously" than other proposals.  Nevertheless, one property that would be disadvantageously affected was the Orphan Asylum, which sat directedly in the path of the project.

At the meeting of the Board of Assistant Aldermen on November 20, 1837, it was decided that the Asylum was more valuable than the Centre Street project.  The minutes noted that the plot that C. Heeney had donated was "for the purposes of an Orphan Asylum, so long as it shall be so applied."  So, were the building demolished, the property would revert to Heeney, "and prove a total loss to the Asylum."  The committee declined the proposition.

And still the population of the Orphan Asylum continued to grow.  On March 9, 1838, the institution's treasurer, John B. Lasala, announced in the Morning Herald, "The public is respectfully informed that there are at present in this Asylum nearly two hundred orphan children, depending entirely on the generosity of our fellow citizens."

By 1845, Archbishop John Hughes recognized the need for two separate facilities--a boys' and a girls' orphanage.  The Roman Catholic Orphan Asylum for boys was completed in 1851 on Fifth Avenue and 51st Street.  The Prince Street Asylum was now a girls-only facility.  On June 15, 1859, a visitor from The New York Times described his visit, saying in part:

There are four apartments used as school-rooms, one of which, for the larger girls, has been newly furnished within two weeks, and is very neat and convenient.  There are two dormitories, capable of lodging fifty children each; they were scrupulously neat, and well ventilated.  The Infirmary, happily, has not, at present, one patient in it.  The Chapel, which is on the Mott-street side of the house, is well adapted for the use of the inmates.  Mass is performed every morning, at which all the children attend.  There are now three hundred and twenty little girls here between the ages of four and thirteen, whose cheerful faces and neatly clothed persons indicate that they are very happy in the care of the sisters of Charity.

The 69th Regiment of the New York State Militia, known as the "Fighting Irish," marched past the Prince Street Asylum (left) in 1861 as they departed to fight in the Civil War.  (At the right is the graveyard of St. Patrick's Cathedral.)  from D. T. Valentine's Manuel, 1862 (copyright expired)

A horrific accident occurred here on April 9, 1868.  Margaret Brown, who was 14 years old, was alone in the refectory that morning.  Somehow, her clothes caught fire from a candle.  Before help could arrive, she was burned to death.

On May 10, 1884, two girls, Teresa Flanigan and Lizzie Girr, 15 and 19 years old respectively, "escaped," as worded by The New York Times.  They made their way to Harlem to find Teresa's aunt, but were unsuccessful.  They gave up and decided to return to the orphanage.  On the way, they coincidentally encountered Thomas Flanigan.  The 40-year-old had previously worked at the orphanage as an engineer (i.e., the worker who tends the furnace and similar tasks.)  The New York Times reported, "He dissuaded them, saying that they would be beaten, and offered to get them situations."

His intentions for the naïve girls, however, were despicable.  He took the teens to the Mount Morris Hotel at 113rd Street and Third Avenue, registering as "Callahan and daughters."  There he sexually assaulted Teresa.  Astoundingly, two days later two relentless police officers tracked down the girls.  Flanigan was arrested and brought to the Essex Market Police Court on June 18.  There, Lizzie testified, "that Flanigan had assaulted her too, but failed," according to The New York Times.  The predator was jailed without bail and the two girls were sent to the House of Refuge.



In 1886, the orphanage was renovated to the St. Patrick's Convent and Girls' School.  Two years later, on August 31, 1888, the New-York Tribune reminded readers, "The property at Prince and Mott sts., known formerly as the Orphan Asylum, is now used by the children of the female department of St. Patrick's parochial school."

The unflappable Sisters of Charity, accustomed to handling orphans and school children, were not shaken by a mere explosion early on the morning of September 7, 1896.  The New York Times reported, "There were fourteen nuns in the building at the time, but they were in no way frightened by the incident and remained in the house."

The explosion happened in the kitchen when a pipe burst, "tearing a hole in the ceiling and half flooding the apartment with water," and igniting a fire, said the article.  A policeman on the street heard the blast and rushed in, then sent an alarm to the fire department.  Before the fire fighters arrived, the fire "was put out with pails of water."  The Times said, "The sisters in the house were all aroused from their sleep, but only the Superior left her room."

By the early decades of the 20th century, the school admitted boys, as well.  Among the students at mid-century was future filmmaker Martin Scorsese.  As the demographics of the neighborhood changed, the student body included students whose language at home included English, Spanish and Chinese.  Reportedly, as the turn of the century approached, more than 90 percent of the students came from families below the national poverty level.

By 1966, the building had been painted white.  Higgins Quasebarth and Partners LLC via The New York Times.

In 2009, the enrollment of what was now known as Saint Patrick's Old Cathedral School had dropped to just 129 students.  In June the following year, the Archdiocese closed the venerable facility.  

The Archdiocese of New York placed the landmarked structure on the market on December 24, 2013 for $29 million.  On September 4, 2014, Diane Pham, writing in 6sqft, reported that Time Equities had purchased the property for $32 million. "Plans to turn the school into condos have been in the works since October 2013," she wrote.  A second developer, said the article, had joined Time Equities to renovate the building "into two single-family homes and eight luxury condos."


Surviving Federal and later Victorian period interior details were ripped out in the gut renovation.  (Although the building was designated an individual New York City landmark in 1966, its interiors were not similarly protected.)  A four- and six-story addition was erected in the rear.  In the building that once housed indigent orphans are now luxury residences with four or five bedrooms, one of which has 23-foot ceilings in some rooms.

photographs by the author

Wednesday, February 5, 2025

The Unrecognizable Samuel H. Rokenbaugh House - 25 West 24th Street

 


Samuel Henry Rokenbaugh was a merchant at 45 Wall Street and the president of the Hanover Fire Insurance Company.  Around 1855, he moved his family into the house at 25 West 24th Street--one of a row of identical upscale residences.  The 25-foot-wide, brownstone-fronted townhouse rose four stories above a high English basement.  Its Italianate style originally included an arched entrance under a shallow arched pediment, molded architrave window frames, and a bracketed cornice.  Just half a block west from Madison Square and Fifth Avenue, the Rokenbaugh house sat within a highly fashionable neighborhood.

Born in 1812, Rokenbaugh was married to the former Cornelia Elizabeth Scott.  The couple had a son, Henry Scott, born on February 16, 1852.  

On September 22, 1864, Cornelia died in the 24th Street house at the age of 36.  Her funeral was held in the Church of Annunciation on West 14th Street.  

In 1869, Rokenbaugh was leasing 25 West 24th Street to Dr. Jacob Hermann Knapp (who professionally went by his middle name).  The eye and ear specialist had arrived in New York City from Germany the previous year.  Born in Prussia in 1832, he had been Professor of Ophthalmology at the University of Heidelberg.  

Knapp quickly made his mark within the New York medical community.  In 1869, he established the Archives of Ophthalmology, published in English and German; and founded the Ophthalmic and Aural Institute on East 12th Street.

Jacob Hermann Knapp (original source unknown)

Knapp and his wife, the former Adolfine Becker, had a three-year-old daughter, Ida Caroline, when they moved into 25 West 24th Street.  Arnold Herman was born in 1869, and a third child, Cornelia, was born in the house in 1870.

Dr. Hermann Knapp quickly became one of the most esteemed specialists in the country.  On February 27, 1870, The New York Times reported on his lecture at the Cooper Union the previous evening, "Light and Vision, or, especially, How Light is Converted into Thought."  The article called it "a masterpiece of learning."

The Physician and Pharmaceutist, February 1870 (copyright expired)

On the evening of March 14, 1872, Adolfine Knapp was in a carriage on 56th Street near Fourth Avenue (today's Park Avenue) when, according to The New York Times, "the horse became frightened at a train passing along the avenue, and ran off."  Adolfine was thrown from the vehicle and fatally injured.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on March 16.

Two weeks after Adolfine's death, on April 2, 1872, Samuel Rokenbaugh sold 25 West 24th Street to Dr. Herman Knapp for $40,000 (about $1 million in 2025 terms).  

Knapp was consulted regarding especially perplexing cases, or those involving high profile patients.  None, perhaps, was more well-known to Americans than Mary Todd Lincoln, the widow of  the assassinated President.  Lincoln, who was 64, was a neighbor of Knapp, living in 1882 at 39 West 26th Street.  Her physical condition was alarming.  On January 1, 1882, he and a team of specialists including Louis A. Boyd, Meredith Clymer, and W. H. Pancoast made an exhausting examination of Mary Lincoln.  Their findings were discouraging at best.

The Daily Press and Dakotaian published their report on January 18, 1882.  It said in part that Lincoln, "is suffering from chronic inflammation of the spinal cord, chronic disease of the kidneys, and commencing cataract of both eyes."  The physicians said she could not walk without assistance and her condition "will end in paralysis of the lower extremities."  Knapp opined that Mary Lincoln's eyesight, "would gradually grow worse."  Six months later, Mary Todd Lincoln died.  

By the 1890s, commerce had invaded the Madison Square district.  Dr. Knapp left 25 West 24th Street by 1896 and leased it to a proprietor as a boarding house.  Part of the residence (most likely the basement level) was rented to the Automatic Photograph Co., a photographic studio.

Boarding here in 1897 was Joseph B. Falk and his daughter, Sarah H. and his son Benjamin J. Falk.  An insurance agent, Falk was born in Wurzburg, Bavaria in 1807 and came to America in 1848.  Described by The New York Times as, "possessed of ample means," he was highly involved in Jewish charities and was a charter member of the Mendelssohn Benevolent Society, a trustee of Mount Sinai Hospital, the Hebrew Orphan Asylum, and of the United Hebrew Charities.

Sarah H. Falk died here on December 6, 1897.  The high-end status of the boarding house was reflected in her funeral being held in the parlor two days later.  Her father, Joseph B. Falk, died on October 14, 1901.  In reporting his death, The New York Times described him as, "one of the oldest insurance agents in this city."  Benjamin J. Falk would remain in the boarding house at least another three years.

The residents of 25 West 24th Street enjoyed amenities like a bellboy and maid service.  At the time of Joseph B. Falk's death, Ralph Rotch worked here as the bellboy.  That year the teen was given a rare opportunity to go to Europe as the valet of one of the boarders.  But an unexpected incident just two days before the voyage derailed the plans.

On July 25, 1901, the New York Morning Telegraph reported, "Ralph Rotch, the colored bellboy in the fashionable boarding house at 25 West Twenty-fourth street, was going to Europe to-day as a valet to one of the boarders, but he cannot go unless a certain express package is found before the steamship starts."  Two days earlier, a messenger dropped off a package, and Rotch took it to one of the boarder's rooms.  A short time later, a chambermaid took it back downstairs.

The next day, the messenger arrived, said he had delivered the package to the wrong address, and asked to have it back.  "As the bellboy could not find it, he was arrested and locked up on a charge of grand larceny," said the article, "for he had signed for the package."  Whether Ralph Rotch was exonerated is unclear.

Earlier that year, on April 8, Dr. Jacob Hermann Knapp died.  The New York Times called him, "of international repute."  (In 1913, the Ophthalmic and Aural Institute was renamed the Hermann Knapp Memorial Eye Hospital.)

In June 1904, the Knapp estate sold 25 West 24th Street to Belle A. Quay.  The transaction began a new chapter in the former residence.  Just days later, Quay hired architect Frederick C. Zobel to make renovations that would transform the house to a restaurant and hotel.  In July, she signed a five-year lease with the Hotel Carlos Co.   As it turned out, the Carlos Restaurant would be a destination spot for New Yorkers for much longer than that.

A humorous postcard showed New Jersey to the right and the Carlos Restaurant on the left, saying there are no mosquitos at Carlos.  The original appearance of the Rokenbaugh house was little changed.

An advertisement for the six-course Christmas dinner in 1904 at "The Famous Carlos" included the menu.  It started with mock turtle soup, followed by salmon croquettes.  Then came tenderloin of beef a la Florentine, after which was spaghetti Neapolitan style.  The next course was roast Vermont turkey, followed by "Salade en Season" and then "ice cream, cheese, and demi tasse."  The cost was 60 cents--about $20 today.

from the collection of the Seymour B. Durst Old York Library of the Columbia University Libraries.

The Carlos Restaurant was a favorite spot for group dinners.  On April 15, 1911, for instance, The Weekly Underwriter reported, "The fourth annual meeting and dinner of the Barebones Alumni Association will be held Tuesday evening, May 2, at 6:30 o'clock at the Carlos Restaurant, 25 West Twenty-fourth street."  The article said the occasion would be "a time of jolly reunion of all who have taken the fire insurance course at New York University."

The restaurant was redecorated a decade after opening.  On September 27, 1914, the New York Press noted, "Carlo's [sic] No. 25 West Twenty-fourth street, is enjoying continued popularity.  The place has been remodeled and refitted in the old Roman style.  The special features Monday and Thursday evenings are popular."

The Carlos Hotel and Restaurant closed in 1919 and the upper floors were converted to apartments.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on October 17, 1920 (with a restriction unconceivable today) offered, "Two or three apartment[s] with use of regular kitchen, furnished or unfurnished; Christians only.  Top floor, 25 West 24th st."

It was apparently at this point that the stoop was removed, the Victorian details shaved off, and the cornice replaced by a stepped Art Deco parapet.

Part of the former Carlos restaurant was now the home of Miss Smith's Agency.  Her employment bureau filled domestic positions, listed in her February 3, 1920 ad as: "cooks, chambermaids, waitresses, nurses, houseworkers, kitchenmaids, couples."

The tenant list of 25 West 24th Street no longer included the refined, affluent types who lived here at the turn of the century.  On August 6, 1927, the Daily Star reported that two tenants, Chester Yoblowsky and Stanley Zuke, both 25 years old, had been arrested in connection to two bombings in subway stations--"at the B.M.T. station at Broadway and Twenty-eighth street and the Twenty-eighth street station of the Fourth avenue line of the I.R.T. in Manhattan."  The two explosions injured "more than a score of persons," said the article, one of them fatally.

On June 3, 1930, the Bayonne Evening News reported that 20-year-old Jesse C. Moore had been arrested for manslaughter in the hit-and-run death of Wesley Hundley.  The article noted that the victim "was a father of twelve children."

In 1941, the ground floor was home to Ray's Luncheonette.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A photograph in the 1970s shows a stucco-like substance on the upper facade, and a windowless faux brick veneer on the ground floor.  By the turn of the century, the building was the La Semana Hotel, its outside painted pink and its blade sign advertising "whirlpools."

In an article titled, "The Worst NYC Hotels According to TripAdvisor Reviews" in Curbed New York on June 27, 2013, journalist Jessica Dailey quoted guests saying, "Overall this room is great if you're drunk or lost and you need a place to stay only for one late night," and, "There was toilet paper hanging from the ceiling and bubblegum stuck over the peep hole on the door from the inside."


A renovation completed in 2018 resulted in a total of 43 hotel rooms.  Called "The Flat," in 2022 the facade of the once refined mansion was painted black, making it the Goth kid on the block.

Tuesday, February 4, 2025

Emery Roth's 1928 Manchester House - 141-145 West 79th Street

 

image via compass.com

On December 6, 1927, the New York Sun reported that Harry A. Hyman “took title yesterday to three four-story buildings 141 to 145 West Seventy-ninth street.”  Among those vintage houses was the home of Daniel Frohman, famous theater producer.  The Frohman family have lived there since 1884.  Hyman had recently formed the 145 West Seventy-Ninth Street Corporation, of which he was president.  The article noted, “The purchaser is to demolish the buildings at once and improve the property with a sixteen-story and penthouse apartment building.”

Hyman had already commissioned apartment house architect Emery Roth to design the building.  Roth’s romantic, 1920s blend of Renaissance and medieval architecture included pointed Gothic arches, heraldic carvings and a brown brick façade peppered with various-sized stone blocks to give the illusion of age.  In an early example of developers’ egoism that would climax with names like Helmsley and Trump being emblazoned on buildings throughout the city, Hyman had Roth include his monogram—H-A-H—on terra cotta shields at the third floor.  Completed in September 1928, the Manchester House had “suites of one, two, three and four rooms,” according to The Sun, which added, “the three and four rooms have dining alcoves.” 

Pianist Paolo Gallico was among the initial residents.  Described by The Musical Monitor as “an accomplished pianist and versatile composer,” his oratorio The Apocalypse had premiered at Carnegie Hall in 1922 to high acclaim.  His apartment doubled as his studio for teaching piano.  Gallico’s son, Paul, Jr. would go on to achieve fame as an author.

Paolo Gallico (original source unknown)

Other early residents were the Abraham Wolf family.  It appears that the Wolfs were opposed to a romance that formed between their daughter, Miriam, and Edwin Freed.  If so, their objections failed.  On May 7, 1930, The Talking Machine & Radio Weekly reported, “the secret marriage last December of Edwin Freed, younger brother of Joseph D. R., Leo and Arthur Freed, well known radio manufacturers, to Miss Miriam Wolf…was announced last week.” 

Living here at the time, were Clarence D. Costello, his wife, and his sister-in-law, Essie Kerns, who was a widow.  Essie, who was about 40 years old, was deeply tormented in the winter of 1930.  On the afternoon of December 1, 16-year-old Daniel Anderson was walking along the Coney Island boardwalk when he saw Essie wade into the icy surf.  The Standard Union reported, “Without taking time to divest himself of his clothing,” he plunged into the ocean after her.  “Screaming, ‘Let me die!’ she fought his efforts at rescue,” said the article.  The teen was able to overpower her, and as he was pulling her in, a deli operator waded in to help.  They carried her to a store in the Half Moon Hotel.  There, other than admitting her name, Essie refused to tell the police anything about herself or her reason for attempting suicide.  “She was taken to Kings County Hospital for observation,” concluded the article. 

An erudite resident was Walter Beardslee Wildman, who taught Latin at the private Trinity School.  An 1898 graduate of Trinity College, he and his wife, Bessie F. Wildman, had a teenaged son, Walter Jr., born in 1915.  Following Wildman’s death, Bessie and Walter remained in the Manchester House apartment.  Like his father, Walter Jr. attended Trinity College and then New York University’s College of Medicine.  The 35-year-old anesthesiologist was still living with his mother here when he became engaged to Patricia Ann Grayson in September 1950. 

image via compass.com

A top floor apartment became home to songwriter and singer Laura Nyro in the late 1960s.  While living here, she wrote hit songs like “Blowing Away,” “Wedding Bell Blues," “Stoned Soul Picnic,” and “Eli’s Coming.”  A consistent visitor to the apartment was her agent, David Geffen.  

Laura Nyro in a 1970s publicity shot.  (original source unknown)

In her 2002 Soul Picnic: The Music and Passion of Laura Nyro, author Michael Kort describes Nyro’s apartment saying, 

A step up in class from her Eighth Avenue place, the apartment was still quite small, essentially one room with a foldout bed, a tiny kitchen, and a piano facing a wall on which she’d placed a heart-shaped mirror.  However, it opened onto a huge terrace, with a large black water tower to one side.

After nearly a century, Emery Roth’s Manchester House is nearly unchanged.  Its picturesque lower façade still charms the passersby who pause to appreciate it.

image via compass.com