Having turned from fur trading to real estate, John Jacob Astor I purchased Richmond Hill, the country estate of Aaron Burr near Greenwich Village, following the latter's fatal duel with Alexander Hamilton. He took over Burr's long-term land lease of the sprawling estate from Trinity Church and by 1817 had leveled the property and laid out streets, including Charlton Street, named for Dr. John Charlton, president of the New York Medical Society.
Beginning in the mid-1820s, Astor erected scores of neat Federal style homes on the property. Similar to its neighbors, 33 Charlton Street was two-and-a-half stories tall with two prim dormers punching through the peaked roof. The single-doored entrance sat above a short stoop.
It appears that 33 Charlton Street was the victim of arsonists with a grudge against Astor. When two unfinished houses at 32 and 35 Charlton Street were burned at 6:00 on the morning of October 13, 1828, The Daily Advertiser noted, "A few months ago, several houses were destroyed by fire at the same place." Gilliam S. Bogert was already living at 33 Charlton Street, and decades later the Year Book of the Holland Society explained that he "had just established his home in Charlton Street, the old Richmond Hill site, but a disastrous fire soon afterward destroyed the house and most of the family records."
Bogert rebuilt the brick-faced house. A flour merchant whose business was on Dey Street, Gilliam S. Bogert traced his Dutch ancestry to New Amsterdam. He and his wife, the former Maria Moore, had at least four children, Philip E., Stephen Gilliam, Abram H., and Anna, the youngest, born in 1838.
Boarding with the Bogert family at least from 1839 through 1841 was lumber merchant Jabez E. Safford. In 1845 the Weir family boarded with the Bogerts. Edward and George R. Weir ran a stable down the block at 14 Charlton Street.
Maria Bogert died on April 9, 1845 at the age of 40. Her funeral was held in the parlor two days later. Three years later, Gilliam fell ill. On November 29, 1848, The Evening Post reported he had died "after a protracted illness" at the age of 48. His funeral, too, was held in the house.
Considering that the children were young--Anna was only ten at the time of her father's death--it is possible that extended family helped rear them since they continued living here. Living next door at 31 Charlton Street were Mary Bogert, the widow of John A., and her son Henry, who was a bookkeeper. The Weir family, too, was still boarding in the house and Mrs. Weir most likely lent a hand.
In April 1849, a young man "calling himself William H. Hunter, alias, Smith, alias Post," according to the New York Herald, entered the Weir stable and hired a horse to go to Harlem. Instead, however, he sold the horse to a Mr. Banfield on Third Street for $40. George R. Weir valued the horse at $100 (just over $4,000 in 2024 terms). Weir later identified Hunter, who was arrested for horse theft. The New York Herald commented, "There are several charges of grand larceny against him, from different boarding-houses about the city, where he has taken board, and in the night he robbed the boarders and cleared out."
In 1851, cabinetmaker Francis Moore and his family replaced the Weirs as boarders. By then, Philip E. Bogert was working as a salesman. His brother Stephen Gilliam was soon involved in the lumber and shipping business, a partner in Bogert & Morgan. According to the Year Book of the Holland Society in 1907, the firm had "contracts for supplying ships for the Government during the Civil War." Stephen would later become involved in railroads, as well.
But none of that would happen while Stephen was living at 33 Charlton Street. In 1852, the house and the 13 years left on the land lease were sold at auction for $3,050 (about $124,000 today). Interestingly, it was purchased by the Bogerts' boarder, Francis Moore.
Living with the Moores was Francis's widowed mother, Fanny. She died at the age of 79 on October 8, 1853. Once again there was a funeral in the parlor.
Boarding with the Moores in February 1855 were Peter Brunor and his wife. On the afternoon of February 22, both families were away when burglars broke into the basement door with a jimmy. The Evening Post reported, "Finding no person to hinder them, they commenced ransacking the house from top to bottom. They broke open all the drawers throughout the house, and scattered the various articles about the floors. The rascals escaped with five hundred dollars' worth of property."
The Moores's dining room was looted of silverware worth about $3,000 in today's money, and "a number of small things valued at about $25" (about $900 today). But it was the Brunors who were hit the hardest. The thieves found the couple's jewelry, making off with Mrs. Brunor's diamond rings and her husband's watch, rings, "sleeve-buttons," and other items. Brunor's gold watch alone was valued at the equivalent of $5,820 today.
Around 1868, the Moores moved to Hudson Street. That year William J. Bancker, listed as a carpenter, occupied the house. The Bancker family would retain possession for nearly two decades and it was almost assuredly William Bancker who raised the attic floor to full height and replaced the areaway fencing with fashionable Italianate ironwork. Interestingly, the Flemish bond brickwork was carried on into the new third floor, an added cost that was not structurally necessary, but was cosmetically pleasing.
Around the same time, one of the houses directly across the street replaced the parlor windows with a bay window. The same might have been done here. At some point, an iron beam was installed above the parlor level, possibly to accommodate the large window. It was filled in in the early 20th century, the running bond brick a stark testimony to the mysterious alterations.
The supporting beam can be readily seen in this 1941 photograph. Image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.
Although they retained ownership of the property, it appears the Banckers left around 1874. The house was occupied by three Irish families--the Eggans, Keenans and McGinns. John M. Eggan was a hatter, John Keenan a real estate agent, and John McGinn a printer.
Tragically, John McGinn and his wife lost their infant son, Edmund Meade McGinn, on August 13, 1876. The funeral of the four-month-old boy was held in the house on August 15.
On May 19, 1878, John Keenan placed a classified ad in the New York Herald that read, "Lost--On Thursday, in Carmine St., a brown Spaniel Bitch. Liberal reward for recovery."
The resourceful Keenan seems to have continually reinvented himself. Listed as a real estate agent in 1875, he was a teacher in 1879-80, and a city marshal in 1881. That year in March, David C. Bancker sold 33 Charlton Street to John and Ellen McDonald for $8,000 (about $246,000 today).
The McDonalds remained in the house for a decade, selling it to Richard Hennessy on May 7, 1891 for $14,250. It was a handsome profit for the couple, earning them about double what they paid.
It does not appear that Hennessy ever lived at 33 Charlton Street, but rented rooms to Italian-born immigrants. Among his first tenants was Negi Gaetano, who found himself before a judge on September 19, 1891. The Press said he "was held for trial at the Tombs yesterday for refusing to pay horse car fare and assaulting the conductor."
G. Siri and his wife, Mamie, lived here in 1896. Siri was politically involved and presumably obtained permission from Hennessy to use the basement or the parlor for meetings. On August 21, 1896, the New York Press reported, "One of the popular clubs in the lower part of the city is the Italian Republican Club of the Third Assembly district. Its quarters are at No. 33 Charlton street. Nearly all the Italians of the better class in the district, and some from other districts, are members of the organization. The club wants all the members it can get. Any one who desires to join may send his application to G. Siri, No. 33 Charlton street."
The residents of the rooming house continued to have Italian surnames through the turn of the century. Living here in 1897 and 1898 were Ignatius Canale, a contractor, and his son Peter; Peter Bacigalupo, a clerk at Ellis Island; and Alfred Rossi.
Decidedly not Italian was John W. Casey, who rented rooms here by 1903 with his family. Born in Ireland in 1856, he had been brought to New York by his parents when he was nine years old. Casey was a "master iron molder." He and his wife Charlotte, had five children, John J., James, William, Lottie and Ella. John J. Casey died "after a short illness" on May 14, 1904.
By 1908, Casey's sons were grown and lived elsewhere. Early that year, John W. Casey was summoned for jury duty. The New York Times reported that he had never, in his 43 years in New York, served on a jury. His wife and daughters, said the article, "saw him off early one morning in the latter part of February to take his seat in the jury box. At night the iron molder returned rather proud of himself."
"'It's a fine juryman I'll make in time,' he told the family and then he recounted the experiences of the day."
Casey sat on the case of Thomas Dickson who sued for damages for the death of his four year old daughter Lili. He enjoyed his jury duty until February 25, when he returned home "silent and depressed." He refused to tell his wife or daughters what had transpired in the courtroom, but went to bed early. The following day, he confided in his sons.
The jury had deliberated for a day and a half, at which point one of the jurors complained he had a business deal to finalize, and further delay would cost him dearly. He convinced the other jurors to come to their decision by a flip of the coin. Casey told his sons,
I couldn't tell the wife and the girls. But, oh, the scoring that Justice Guy gave us! I cannot bear to think of it. And he fined us each $50. You boys must break it to mother and the girls. They'll see in in the papers, if you don't, that I am a disgraced man.
Casey's sons attempted to console him, telling him he was unfamiliar with jury duty and had acted innocently. Their father was not convinced, although admitted he was, indeed, ignorant and that the other jurors told him cases were often settled that way.
"But I know better now. You boys didn't hear the Judge. If you had you might understand. I don't mind the fine, but I am discredited and disgraced, and I cannot bear to meet my former friends," he said.
The entire family tried to raise his spirits. But his depression continued to grow. He ate little, telling his wife that "shame had driven away his appetite." The priests from St. Agnes's Church came to the house, one by one, attempting to cheer him up. They were followed by members of the Society of St. Vincent DePaul, of which Casey was secretary; of the Holy Name Society, of which he was also an officer; and of the Knights of Columbus. No one could get through to him.
Casey stopped going to work. His weight dropped from 296 to 200 pounds within a month. Finally, around March 24 he took to his bed.
The New York Times reported, "News of Mr. Casey's illness spread rapidly through the district in which he had lived for forty-three years. He had been a Sergeant at Arms of the Democratic State Committee, and he had been a delegate to several Democratic National Conventions." Tammany officials came to the house, including "Little Tim" Sullivan, State Senator Dominick Mullaney, and Borough President John F. Ahearn. The New York Times said, "Their well-meant efforts to console and cheer him failed utterly."
Newspapers across the country reported on Casey's death at 4:10 on the morning of March 30. The New York Times titled its article, "Grieved To Death Over Court Rebuke / Went Home to Waste Away."
No. 33 Charlton Street was owned by Mary and Dominick di Milta by 1919. Described as a "three story brick tenement" by the Department of Buildings, it received a $1,500 renovation by the Di Miltas that year. It may have been at this time that the parlor level was restored with the running bond infill.
The couple did interior renovations three years later, hiring architect Ferdinand Savignano to create a "new store room, bathroom, [and] laundry." The alterations cost the Di Miltas the equivalent of nearly $91,000 today.
Among the tenants around this time was the political leader Antonio Dalessandro. Born in 1875, he had been the leader of the "westerly half of the Second Assembly District" for around 20 years. He was also Chief Deputy Internal Revenue Collector. The New York Times noted he "was chief clerk under Timothy D. Healy in the old Coroner's office." Dalessandro died in the house on March 20, 1925.
Another well-known tenant around the same time was Dr. Carlo Pascarelli. He remained here at least through 1931.
In 1969 the house was converted to apartments, one per floor. A three-year renovation begun in 2007 returned the house to a single-family home. The five bedroom, six bath property sold in 2011 for $8.5 million. While nothing remains of the 1820s Federal interiors, outwardly it looks much as it did when the attic was raised in the 1870s.
photographs by the author
no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com
No comments:
Post a Comment