Above the second floor, the noteworthy facade survives. photo by Alice Lum |
On December 13, 1861 Albert Seeley Roe married Rhuamy (known to friends and family as Amy) A. Chamberlain in the parlor of the bride’s parents at No. 432 4th Street. The young groom would soon become successful in the lard refining business and a partner in Chamberlain, Roe & Co.
In the decades following the Civil War, as the Roes
established their family, both the Upper East Side and West Side saw a flurry of
development. Albert and Amy chose the
west, and in 1883 were living at No. 337 West 58th Street. That year would be tragic for the family when
12-year old Jessie Carpenter Roe, their second daughter, died of “brain fever”
on Sunday May 27.
Three years after the tragedy, Albert Roe set architect
Arthur Bates Jennings to work designing a rather monumental rowhouse at No. 174
West 72nd Street. Architects
working on the Upper West Side at the time flexed their creative muscles to
create wonderfully playful upscale residences.
The Roe mansion was completed two years later in 1886. Jennings produced a stone-fronted house that
refused to forced into an historical box.
Romanesque Revival coexisted with a touch of Flemish Revival, topped
with a slate-covered mansard roof. The
house sat above a tall English basement.
No two openings were alike and the architect skillfully incorporated
arches, gables, engaged columns and carvings to achieve his four-story fantasy.
Albert Roe was considered a leader in the New York lard
refining industry. A few years earlier,
when reports circulated that lard additives like tallow, water and cottonseed
oil were being added to the product; reporters sought out Roe’s opinion. Roe insisted that it was not New York
refiners to blame. Although adulterating
lard was indeed a common practice, the inferior product was intended for “the Cuban
and West Indian trade;” not for Americans.
“The trouble about the adulteration of lard,” said Roe, “originates
with the lard-renderers like Armour & Co., of Chicago, and other firms in
the West, and not with the refiners, who are as much annoyed by it as are the
consumers.”
Within the decade Roe would add the railroads and stocks to
his resume, becoming a Director of the New York, Ontario & Western Railway
Company, and the brokerage firm of Compton & Roe.
With Amy and Albert in the new home were their sons,
Alexander, Irving and Frank; and two daughters, Laura and Aurelia. The mansion was the scene of a happy
reception on February 12, 1896 following the wedding of Laura Bosworth
Chamberlain Roe to Henry Burr Anthony in St. Agnes’s Chapel on West 92nd
Street.
Young Alexander Vinton Roe was sent off to Princeton
University where he should have graduated in 1895. Known as “Shad,” he did not make it through
his sophomore year; and instead dropped out to go into business with his
father. He was made a member of Compton
& Roe before leaving to start his own firm.
In 1901 Albert commissioned the highly-regarded
architectural firm of Janes and Leo to update the residence. The changes, according to The New York Times,
on April 25, would cost him $1,500—about $40,000 today.
Alexander was still living with his parents and around this
time. He gave up on his own brokerage office and returned to what was now Millett,
Roe & Hagen. The Princeton
University Decennial Record tactfully said he “finally has achieved the dignity
of being the Board member of Millett, Roe & Hagen, a good firm, with offices
in the Drexel building.” The record
added the tongue-in-cheek comment “Roe is, and always has been, an amateur of
good horses, and if he ever gets married he is going to send his boys to
Princeton.”
Next door to the Roes lived Dr. Julian P. Thomas. Both Thomas and his wife were well-known amateur
balloonists and their home was a popular attraction for tour buses—known as “rubberneck
wagons.” As each bus passed, its guide
would announce the aerialist’s home. It was
an annoyance to the residents of the upscale neighborhood, not the least of
which was Alexander Roe.
On January 10, 1907 The Sun comically described a guide’s narrative. “Onr
lef twe’ve th’ome uv Dr. Julian-thomas thwell known ballonster. Tha’s doctor settinon th’ stoop in thwhite
duck soot!”
Alexander complained to the reporter “And then the doctor
stands up and bows to the applause of the jays on the rubberneck wagon.” The broker was as much irritated with the
doctor’s response as with the tourists. “Some
summer evenings the doctor isn’t home.
He used to go down to a roof garden when the Fays were in town and often
responded to requests for some of the audience to come upon the stage to help
the Fays with their experiments. But on
other evenings, when he is on the steps, he bows gracefully to the plaudits of
the rubber wagon. It’s very annoying.”
Despite the aggravation of a celebrity neighbor, the Roes
stayed on in their stone residence. It
was there, on November 19, 1916 that Amy Aims Chamberlain Roe died at the age
of 78. Her funeral was held in the house
on December 1. Less than a year later,
on August 3, 1917 83-year old Albert died in the house.
By now the fashionable West 72nd Street
neighborhood had changed. Apartment
houses and commercial buildings were quickly replacing the mansions of a
generation earlier. The children of Amy
and Albert Roe wasted little time in converting the family house. In 1918 plans were announced to alter the
building. Architect Charles E. Birge
drew up the plans which were executed by contractor R. MacDonald.
Completed a year later, the alterations had removed the
stoop to create what the Department of Buildings termed a “store.” Above were “not more than 15 rooms to be used
for sleeping purposes.”
The converted mansion quickly filled with tenants. On February 1, 1919 The Sun reported that the
Piccadilly Tea Room had taken the street level. In April the second floor became home to La
Vera Shop; and apartments were leased to tenants like Henry Tilden Swan and
Jerome Rosenberg. In reporting on
Rosenberg’s lease, The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide said on March
29 “This completes the renting of the entire building, all leases having been
closed within a period of sixty days.”
For the 3-room apartments tenants paid from $1,200 to $2,500 a year rent—about
$1,200 to $2,300 a month in today’s dollars.
The Piccadilly served family meals for years ---the New-York Tribune, December 12, 1920 (copyright expired) |
The Piccaddilly Tea Room remained in the space for several
years. But by 1935 it had been converted to
a pharmacy. It was here on December 1
that year that 63-year old Harry C. Krowl, head of the English Department of
the College of the City of New York, suffered a fatal heart attack. The bachelor’s identity was confirmed by the
manager of the Ansonia Hotel where he lived.
Four years earlier boxing champion Benny Leonard, known as
the Ghetto Wizard, had embarked on an ill-advised comeback. That endeavor lasted one year before it
was ended on October 7, 1932 by a TKO by future champion Jimmy McLarnin. The former champ now looked for another
means to market his name. In 1937 he leased the lower three floors of the former
Roe mansion as the site for a restaurant.
The architectural firm of Charles N. & Selig Whinston
transformed what had been the Picadilly Tea Room and then a drugstore into a
sleek, ’30s modern interior. On July
19, 1937 The Times reported on its opening.
“The bar and grill is located on the street floor. On the second floor, which has been converted
into an oval mezzanine, is the restaurant, with its east wall covered with
mural paintings. Features of the place
include air-conditioning, indirect lighting and acoustic-treated ceilings.”
A postcard reveals the sleek, modern interior of the restaurant. |
The pugilist-turned-restaurateur found himself in court on
January 7, 1938 after he accosted a waiter over a baked potato. Louis Sacoff sued Leonard saying the former champion
“had punched him for taking the potato for dinner on New Year’s Day.” Sacoff, described by The New York Times as “a
tall and heavy waiter,” had made himself lunch—“a plate of pot roast, together
with the disputed baked potato.” He testified
that Leonard punched him “in reproof for extravagance in taking the potato.”
Leonard was smug in his own defense. He told the judge, “If I had hit him, he
wouldn’t have been able to come for a summons.”
The judge dismissed the case.
Benny Leonard had less success in operating his restaurant
than he did in the ring or in court. On
November 8 that year The Times reported “The store, mezzanine and basement in
174 West Seventy-second Street, where Benny Leonard, the former pugilist, once
operated a restaurant, has been leased to Louis Schindler and Paul Landau, who
will open a bar and grill.”
Throughout the remainder of the century the lower floors
would house a restaurant and the upper floors “furnished rooms.” For decades the street level was home to
Donohue’s, described by one publication as “an Irish dive bar.” Jack Donohue died in 1995 and four years
later Paul Hurley, an Irish immigrant, opened PD O’Hurley’s in the space.
A bit more polished than Donohue’s, PD O’Hurley’s was a
popular spot for sports fans, tourists, and ale and beer drinkers in
general. The routinely good food made it
a well-liked neighborhood spot. Then, as
with many small Manhattan businesses, the landlord increased the rent to the
point that PD O’Hurley’s had to surrender.
On January 15, 2013 it closed its doors after 15 years.
The heavily-altered mansion is all that is left of the once-upscale neighborhood -- photo by Alice Lum |
Today the pub is still vacant. On the second floor is the Fred Astaire Dance
Studios and upstairs are still small apartments. Although the unfortunate brick addition that
obliterated the two lower floors could never have been attractive; the upper
three floors survive—a reminder of when this stretch of West 72nd
Street was lined with architecturally eccentric upscale homes.
that forlorn house looks so out of place now.
ReplyDeleteBetween the 2 story commercial building and the Automat turned bank? What's in place there?
ReplyDelete