De Lemos & Cordes's 1890 247-251 Elizabeth Street

 

The architectural firm of De Lemos & Cordes would be best known for the Beaux Arts commercial buildings it designed in the 1890s, like the massive Siegel-Cooper Department Store on Sixth Avenue.  In October 1889, six years before designing that building, De Lemos & Cordes filed plans for a much different commission--two five-story store-and-tenements at 247 through 251 Elizabeth Street.  Interestingly, because the two buildings would occupy three 20-foot wide plots--splitting the middle plot in half--the southern building had two addresses, 247-249, while the identical northern building went by 251 Elizabeth Street.

At a time when tenement buildings often displayed overblown ornamentation, De Lemos & Cordes designed the two buildings in a dignified take on Renaissance Revival.  Faced in red brick above the cast iron storefronts, the buildings were divided into three horizonal sections by terra cotta intermediate cornices--each decorated with a frieze of terra cotta ornaments.   A frieze of blind rondels and fluted pilasters ran below the terminal cornice.  Each of the buildings cost $18,000 to construct--equal to about $615,000 in 2024.  There were two apartments per floor in each building, and two stores each at ground level.

The new structures sat within what newspapers called the "Italian community" and nearly all the tenants had Italian surnames and, most likely, spoke Italian as their first language.  

Among the initial residents of 251 Elizabeth Street were Antonio Gravallese, a tailor, and his family.  He had left his wife and children in Italy and established himself in New York before sending for them in 1886.  Life in America was good for the family.  The Evening World commented, "All the family were industrious and they prospered.  The eldest daughter married a young Italian tailor and then Filomena went out to sew and help swell the family treasury."

Filomena was 18 years old in 1891, described by the newspaper as, "a pretty, plump, red-cheeked Italian girl."  Boarding with the family was Antonio Cerriglio.  Although he did not have a regular job, The Evening World said he "made money nevertheless in speculating and acting as a real estate agent."  Unknown to the family, who considered him "more like a relative than a boarder," he was falling in love with Filomena.

Filomena found a job working in a shop where she had caught the eye of Cyrille Buhot, "a dashing Frenchman, thirty-three years old," according to The Evening Word, which added, "It is little wonder that her brilliant black eyes and cherry lips captivated Cyrille."  The two fell in love and, after Cyrille found a better paying job in a Fifth Avenue tailoring shop, he asked Filomena to marry him.

The proposal caused heated arguments in the Gravallese apartment.  Filomena's father reportedly said, "Do not wed a Frenchman.  Wed one of your own countrymen.  You are too young to marry, anyway."  The love-struck teen rebelled, threatening to elope.  In the meantime, Antonio Cerriglio listened in, his jealousy mounting.  Not long afterward, in April 1891, he stalked the couple along the Bowery.  The Evening World said he, "glowered threateningly."

On May 8, Antonio Gravallese and Filomena argued again, this time because she stayed out late.  The following day, Filomena and Cyrille decided to get married secretly.  As she waited outside Cyrille's boarding house, Filomena noticed Antonio Cerriglio.  When Cyrille appeared, she whispered, "See! There is Cerriglio following us.  I fear he means harm."

Cyrille replied, "Never mind, let us hasten along."

They had walked about a block when Filomena heard the report of a pistol.  As she whirled around, Cerriglio fired two more shots into Cyrille's back.  The young assassin turned to flee, but ran directly into the arms of Detective Sergeant Cosgrove.

The Gravellese family was shocked.  The Evening World said,  "Her family had never considered [Cerriglio] as Filomena's lover, thinking she was too young to marry."  The article added, "They knew little about Buhot, but objected to his attentions to Filomena simply because he was a Frenchman and not an Italian."

In 1893 a small pox epidemic broke out on New York City.  City officials struggled to educate tenement house residents about vaccinations.  The often ill-educated group distrusted the life-saving inoculations.  On April 30, 1894, The Evening World reported that 15-month-old Victoria Francesco, whose family lived at 251 Elizabeth Street, was one of six new cases of the disease.  A month later, on May 21, 1894, The Evening World headlined an article, "More Small-Pox Patients," and listed among the afflicted 37-year-old Mary Farra, who lived at 247 Elizabeth Street.  Somewhat interestingly, the article noted she "recently left the Ward's Island Insane Asylum."  She and little Victoria Francesco were now transported to another facility, the North Brother Island quarantine hospital.  

Like Antonio Cerriglio, the Italian-born residents of the buildings often settled their differences violently.  On June 13, 1896, Marie Nuccio was told that a neighborhood woman, Marie Franz, was repeating unkind rumors about her.  She stormed off to the Franz apartment at 129 West Third Street "for the purpose of asking what Mrs. Franz meant by spreading reports detrimental to her character," said The New York Times.

"Before she and Mrs. Franz had talked for three minutes they were pulling each other's white hair and punching each other in the face," said the article.  Zeni Franz came to his wife's aid just as a passing policeman heard the uproar and intervened.  While Franz was released because he "had only interfered to save his wife," Marie Franz was arrested on a charge of assault.

At the turn of the last century, the two commercial spaces in 247-249 Elizabeth Street held the Banco Italiano and Nicola Centocosti's cafe.  The private bank was run by Dominico Bonomolo.  Like Nicola Centocosti, he and his family lived in the rear of the commercial space.

The rooms behind the bank were apparently well-filled.  According to The New York Times, living with Dominico Bonomolo and his wife, Gracia, were "his cousins, his aunts, and a bright green parrot."  On January 16, 1900, Gracia Bonomolo attempted to light the kitchen stove using kerosene.  The Times said she, "absently spilled the oil, and when she added the lighted match the partition and its hangings blazed up."

 The Evening Post reported, "The occupants of the house rushed shrieking into the street, but Bonomolo rushed to the window of the bank, where there were several hundreds of dollars in gold and foreign exchange, and began throwing the money into a bag."

As passersby watched, Bonomolo was overcome by smoke and fell to the floor.  Seemingly fearing more for the money than for the banker, they smashed the window and "began sweeping the money into their aprons and pockets."  Happily, firefighters soon arrived and extinguished the blaze.  Bonomolo was rescued.  As it turned out, his neighbors had been concerned for his financial well-being.  "None of the money was lost," said the article.

The only casualty was the parrot.  On January 17, The New York Times wrote, "Bonomolo was in his counting room in the afternoon attending to business as usual, while Little Italy filed into the rear room, where the parrot lay in state."

Coffee, wine and pasta were not the only things served at the Centocosti cafe.  On January 26, 1901, two plain-clothes detectives "made a raid" on the establishment.  The New-York Tribune reported, "The policemen say that an Italian gambling game known as 'segment' was being played."  All the patrons escaped, but Nicola Centocosti was arrested.

The Formosa family lived at 247 Elizabeth Street in 1901.  On February 5 that year their son, Rosario, was hanging out with a gang of boys on Varick Street.  The New York Times reported that they, "resolved that it would be a great joke to kill the first policeman who passed.  Rosario was selected by lot in true Mafia style."  The teen was well equipped for the job.  The newspaper noted he, "whetted the edge of a stiletto, placed another in his belt, and unlimbered his trusty revolver."

A pedestrian who overheard the gang warned Policeman Wooley of its intentions.  So when he turned the corner, he had his nightstick ready.  As Formosa lunged with his knife, Wooley knocked it aside with his stick.  Changing to his stiletto, Formosa lunged again.  "Misjudging the location of the officer's vital organs on account of his girth, the point of the weapon landed on the patrolman's belt buckle," said The Times.

Rosario Formosa yelled, "He's got on a coat of mail," and ran, tossing his weapons one-by-one into snowbanks.  Policeman Wooley was right behind and captured the teen after a chase of three blocks.  He was held on $1,000 bail awaiting trial--a significant $37,000 in today's money.

Frank Bareale ran a grocery store in 251 Elizabeth Street by 1906.  At the time, the Italian community was plagued by a terroristic group called La Mano Nera, or the Black Hand.  The Italian-American group used violence, including assassinations and bombings, to extort money from well-to-do Italians.

On December 31, 1906, The Sun reported, "The ten families in the big tenement at 251 Elizabeth street were thrown into a panic early yesterday morning by an explosion under the window of Frank Bareale's grocery store on the ground floor."  The loud boom "alarmed all the tenants, who rushed from the building scantily clad and shrieking."

The significant explosion blew out windows across the street.  Bareale and his wife and three children had been asleep in the apartment behind the store.  He told police that he had never received any Black Hand letters and he knew of no enemies.  The Sun reported, "The police, however, believe that Black Hand agents have been after him and that he is afraid to talk, fearing that they might resort to something more effective."  The article commented, "This is the third explosion that has occurred in the immediate vicinity within the last three months."

The lives of the tenants of both buildings continued to be marked by violence.  On December 25, 1916, the New York Herald reported that Salvatore Costa, a 28-year-old bricklayer who lived at 247 Elizabeth Street, had been arrested for "attempting to shoot Detectives Santanello and Terra."  The article explained, "Costa attacked a drunken man early in the morning at Elizabeth and Prince streets and when they interferred [sic] he drew a revolver and pulled the trigger twice, but the cartridges failed to explode."

By 1912, one of the ground floor spaces in 251 Elizabeth Street was home to the Goritza Social Club.  The Italian-American club was raided in December 1918 and 25 members arrested for gambling.  The New-York Tribune reported on December 16, "Evidence to show that the men had gathered to collect money for the Red Cross was given."  Whether or not the alibi was true, Magistrate Joseph Corrigan dismissed the charges, saying (surprisingly), "If a man wishes to bet on a ball game or a horse race it is his privilege to do so."

Residents of the two buildings, described as "cold water flats," continued to be the perpetrators or the victims of violence over the years.  In February 1920, 20-year-old Michael Romano, who lived at 251 Elizabeth Street, was arrested for armed robbery.  He and an accomplice had entered an elevator at 716 Broadway and held up the passengers.  

Salvatore Lolacano and his wife ran an Italian restaurant at 247 Elizabeth Street that year.  On the night of December 10, 1920, they were counting the day's receipts when the door burst open.  The Evening World reported, "three bullets sped over Mrs. Lolacano's left shoulder and her husband fell dead at her feet."

And on January 23, 1921, Angelo Patriocola was "shot and killed at 249 Elizabeth Street," according to the New-York Tribune.

The original storefronts can be seen in this 1941 photograph.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A renovation completed in 1947 resulted in new storefronts and four apartments per floor.  The second half of the 20th century saw the Italian community being supplanted by Chinese immigrants.

Among the residents of 247 Elizabeth Street in 1973 was the Wong family.  Theresa Wong was 17 years old that year when she attended a party of about 100 Chinese American youths in the basement of a building on West 51st Street on March 18.  At around 3 p.m. five shots were fired through the basement window.  Theresa was shot in the right arm, one of three injured teens.

Theresa Hak-Kyung-Cha and her husband lived at 247 Elizabeth Street in 1982.  On November 5, a woman's body was found in a Lower Manhattan parking lot with a belt wrapped around her neck at around 7:15 p.m..  She was naked from the waist down.  After searching for his wife for two days, Theresa was identified by her husband on November 7.

The ground floor of De Lemos & Cordes's 1889 building has been brutalized.  The upper portion, however, retains much of its original appearance.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post.

photographs by the author

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