In the 1870s the house at No. 207 East 32nd
Street, between Second and Third Avenues, was home to the Smith family. William Wickham Smith was a tutor and his
daughter, Julia M. Smith, taught in the Primary Department of Grammar School
No. 14.
But a decade later, in 1888, the house was purchased by the Tammany
Central Association. The group was
incorporated that year by Richard Crocker, James P. Keating, and others,
including three magistrates, Judge Pryor Surrogate Ransom and Justice
Fitzimons. Tammany Hall was a powerful
machine and no conflict of interest was noticed when the School Commissioner’s
headquarters for charitable work operated from the 32nd Street house
in 1894.
At the time Richard Crocker’s power and influence had
burgeoned. Following the death of John Kelly, Crocker held nearly uncontested control over
Tammany Hall. On September 21, 1895 a “convention”
was held at No. 207 East 32nd Street to elect a delegate to the Democratic
State Convention. Not unexpectedly,
Crocker was elected. The New York Times
said “his election was followed by a scene of uproarious enthusiasm.”
Richard Crocker -- from the collection of the Library of Congress |
By the turn of the century the old house was no longer
suitable for the Tammany Central Association.
On June 15, 1901 the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported
that architect Robert T. Lyons had been hired to design a new clubhouse on the
site.
The $40,000 structure was completed in 1902. The 28-year old architect had produced a
four-story brick and stone confection that pretended to be a French
townhouse. A rusticated limestone base
sat a few steps above the sidewalk and the
stone stoop was flanked by two cast iron lampposts. A stone balcony stretched the width of the
second floor, matched by another at the fourth floor. Two elaborate dormers gushed through the
mansard roof.
On the top floor was the apartment of Edward J. Sweeney and
his wife, Mary Frances. Well-known to
New Yorkers, Sweeney had been the club’s superintendent since 1894. Born on the Upper East Side in 1866, his
father was a celebrated bare-knuckle boxer who went under the ring name of “Charley”
Holmes. Edward Sweeney had also taken to the
ring, becoming a star featherweight boxer.
He trained other fighters, including John L Sullivan. In 1884 Edward Sweeney and his had father had
opened the highly-popular Sweeney’s Hand-Ball and Racquet Courts on East 35th
Street.
By the time the doors were opened Richard Crocker’s star had
faded. The failure of his mayoral candidate, Edward M.
Shepard, to be elected in 1901 was the last straw in disappointments
to the party. Crocker resigned from
Tammany leadership.
Thomas Murphy became the “executive member” of the Tammany
Central Association. But social groups,
religious leaders and newspapers, indignant over the graft and corruption
enjoyed by Richard Crocker and his cronies, demanded change. The dramatic collapse of Tammany power was
evidenced in W. Bourke Cockran’s address in the 32nd Street
clubhouse on February 1, 1904.
Cockran, ironically, attributed to the Republicans the same offenses
that brought down the Tammany machine. In
part he said “Now again we are threatened by the results of Republican ascendancy, panic overhangs the land, corruption exists in the Government, the
people are levied upon for the party, and blight threatens through a Government
organized for plunder.” He lamented that
the Republicans had tarnished the nation in the eyes of the world. “We have fallen from the position of being
the greatest Nation of the earth…We have reached the point where the country is
regarded as an international hoodlum.”
On Saturday February 9, 1909 Edward J. Sweeney died in his
apartment on the top floor at the age of 43.
His funeral was held in the clubhouse on February 16.
The passing of Edward J. Sweeney was almost symbolic of the
passing of the old days of the Tammany Central Association. Infighting was such that when an election was
held here for the leadership of the district on July 30 that year, threats were
made and security was tight.
The New York Times called it a “stormy meeting” and noted “every
man’s credentials were carefully scrutinized before he was allowed to enter the
room.” William A. Larney, Secretary of the Fire
Department, was not listed as a nominee and the irate politician not only
refused to vote, but addressed the assemblage with threats.
“Some of you know that I have been jobbed and robbed in this
district. The leader of Tammany Hall
Charles F. Murphy, and the executive member of this district promised me half
of the representation of this district.
But did I get it? No!...I tell you that whoever you elect here will have
a fight on his hands. I will go out and
beat him myself.”
The Tammany Central Association would not be in its
clubhouse for much longer. On July 1,
1901 the Record & Guide reported “The old 18th District Tammany
clubhouse at 207 East 32d street, in which Crocker got his first start in
politics, will cease to exist as a political headquarters after this week.” The organization had leased the building to
the Yorkville Municipal Court at an annual rental of $4,000.
Within the month Tammany Central purchased the old
four-story house just down the block at No. 265 East 32nd Street,
which The Sun said it “will alter extensively.”
The former clubhouse would be leased as a courthouse until
1939. During that time cases both
mundane and sensational were heard. In 1923
Charles B. Manville, the 90-year old founder of Johns-Manville, Inc. defended
himself here against Dr. Alonzo Eugene Austin’s $21,000 suit.
The bizarre case began when Manville visited a spiritualist,
Beulah Thompson, after he heard she had given “profitable stock tips” from her
crystal ball to Charles M. Schwab and other moguls. Manville testified that Thompson, who The New
York Times described as “a blonde, slender woman in the thirties,” performed a séance
in “a cabinet” in her home, during which his dead wife’s voice was heard
calling him “C. B.,” her pet name for him.
He further testified that when he asked the medium about a
copper investment he was interested in, she replied “go deeper, go deeper.”
And so he did. And he
convinced Dr. Austin to give him $21,000 to invest in the mining company. Now the elderly executive had the embarrassing
task of publicly discussing his reliance on spiritualism. Beaulah Thompson, incidentally, testified
that she gave Manville no stock tips at all, and that he came to her to cure
his insomnia.
Another sensational case occurred in December 1934 when two
New York City Nazi groups battled it out.
Dr. Hubert Schnuch was president of the League of Friends of New Germany
and had founded the Deutscher Beobachter,
a newspaper called the “mouthpiece of Nazidom in America.” But Anton Haegele who signed the lease on
the newspaper’s headquarters at No, 305 East 46th Street as an “agent”
of the firm, then tried to take control and force Schnuch out.
On December 21, 1934 the
Jewish Telegraphic Agency reported “All hope for an amicable settlement
between the two warring Nazi factions vanished yesterday, with members of both
camps nursing wounds and bruises received in a free-for-all on the preceding
evening, while their leaders turned to the courts for satisfaction.”
In 1939 the City announced that the Municipal Court would
not renew its lease with the Tammany Central Association because it was moving “to
more modern quarters.” The building was
sold at auction in May the following year.
As late as the 1960s the block resembled its 1902 appearance. photo by Edmund V. Gillon from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York |
In 1952 the old clubhouse was converted to offices. It was home to a “testing laboratory and
office” in the cellar; and Slocum Fuller, consulting engineers, on the upper
floors. That firm moved out in
1965.
Here on the second floor New York magazine was founded by
Milton Glaser and Clay Felker in 1968. Milton
Glaser remains in the building in the form of W.B.M.G., Inc. (the initials of
Walter Bernard and Martin Glaser), and Milton Glaser, Inc.
Although the stoop with its cast iron lampposts has been
removed, the old Tammany Central clubhouse is otherwise little changed. What has changed is the block on which it
sits. The French townhouse is glaringly
out of place next to a modern apartment building and a playground—the last
remnant of a much different time on East 32nd Street.
photographs by the author
Have always admired this jewel definitely out of place here in the neighborhood. Could easily fit right in along any upper East Side mansion and be right at home.
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