The 1909 Esperanto - 229 West 105th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1908 developer Lorenz Weiher acquired the five lots at 227 through 235 West 105th Street between Amsterdam Avenue and Broadway.  He commissioned the architectural firm of Moore & Landsiedel to design a "six story brick and stone tenement" on the site, as described in the firm's plans.  (The term "tenement" at the time referred to any multi-family residential building.)  Construction, which was completed the following year, cost Weiher $125,000, or about $4.45 million in 2026.

Moore & Landsiedel drew from Colonial precedents, embellishing the Roman brick clad upper facade with dramatically splayed lintels and scrolled keystones, and prominent stone quoins that emphasized verticality in the extremely wide structure.  The architects also broke up the horizonal plane by placing the entrance to the east and balancing its heavy stone enframement with a duplicate to the west--the latter embracing two windows.  The four-story midsection sat between intermediate cornices and the top floor was capped with a bracketed and corbelled cornice.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

An advertisement for the Esperanto in August 15, 1909 described "5 or 6 rooms and bath."  Because financially comfortable New Yorkers fled the city in the summer months, the ad noted, "Concessions for summer."  The advertised rents ranged from $660 to $840 per year--the equivalent of $1,950 to $2,500 per month today.

The residents were affluent enough to have domestic help.  Hulda Maske, described by The New York Times as "a servant girl," worked for and lived with a family here.  On her night off on October 18, 1909, she went with three men and two women in an automobile to the Bronx.  Early in the morning, the car struck a telegraph pole on Jerome Avenue.  The Times said, "The women fainted, and all the party were bruised and cut, but apparently none was hurt enough to go to the hospital."

After being treated by an ambulance crew, Hulda and her friends went back to Manhattan "by trolley."  The next day, Hulda complained that her head began to ache.  She was taken to Harlem Hospital where she was diagnosed with a skull fracture.

Among the early residents were Reverend Thomas W. Martin and his wife.  Born in 1837, Martin was ordained by Bishop Henry C. Potter in 1863.  For years he had been rector of Trinity Church in Hewlett, Long Island.  

Walter Bertrand Walker and his wife, the former Mary Creecy Lawton, moved into the Esperanto following their wedding in The Plaza on February 14, 1911.  An attorney, Walker was a 1903 graduate of Yale College and a partner with classmate George Leonard.  The young lawyer was, somewhat surprisingly, a trustee of the American College for Girls in Constantinople, Turkey.  His bride was graduated from Ely School in 1906.  

Baron Paul von Eglinitzki lived here following his divorce from the former Helen Nicholson in July 1915.  The couple was married on June 1, 1907 and their only child, Katharine, was born in 1909.

Von Eglinitzki was born in Germany in 1876.  The New York Times said that his ancestors "could be traced back to the fourteenth century" and that he "was for six years in the German Army, two years in the Thirteenth Huzzars and four in the first guard Field Artillery, of which the Kaiser was the Colonel."

Now living in the Esperanto, he was a stockbroker with Charles R. Flint & Co. with offices in the Park Row Building.  The New York Herald noted, "the Bureau of Investigation of the Department of Justice also had its offices" in the building.  The bureau suspected that the baron was more than a stockbroker.  

On March 14, 1919, The New York Times ran the headline, "Baron Paul von Zglinitzki [sic] and Others Sent to Fort Oglethorpe," and reported, "He was arrested yesterday after having been watched by Government secret agents for a year."  The New York Herald explained that he was suspected "of having negotiated for the shipment of munitions in Mexico."  

The baron and the other six German nationals were sent to the Government internment camp at Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia.  But because the Armistice had been signed on November 11, 1918, Von Zglinitzki would likely not be held there very long.  The New York Herald said that prisoners who "escaped arrest until so near the end of the war" would most likely be released from internment camps and deported "when peace is ratified." 

A widower, John H. Conway lived here at the time.  Born in 1843, he was a Civil War veteran and the last surviving crew member of the Monitor, which famously fought the Merrimac off Hampton Roads.  An ardent Democrat, he was formerly president of the Horatio Seymour Democratic Club and was treasurer of Tammany Hall in the 1870s.  He was appointed Deputy Tax Commissioner in 1893.  Conway still held that position on August 1, 1919 when he died in his apartment at the age of 76.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

George H. Whaley, president of the dye-making firm John Campbell & Co., lived here with his wife until his romantic eye roamed.  He became infatuated with his stenographer, May M. Croke.  In 1919 he gave her money to take a three-week vacation and while she was gone, he induced his wife to divorce him so he could marry May.  (Whaley moved to the Hotel Breslin and his wife remained in the Esperanto apartment.)  When May returned from her vacation, Whaley gave her a $2,200 diamond engagement ring and the title to a house at 301 West 88th Street.

But problems soon arose.  George Whaley "employed detectives to shadow her."  They discovered, in part, that May had used some of the money Whaley gave her for her vacation on Monte F. Jacobs "and was with him part of the time," according to The Times.  The embittered George Whaley "instructed the detectives to give [Effie Elizabeth Jacobs] the evidence they had."  Jacobs's wife then sued May Croke on September 22, 1920 for $100,000 damages, "charging alienation of the affections of her husband."  George Whaley now had neither wife nor girlfriend, and a significant dent in his bank account.

Two residents were victims of audacious thievery in 1924.  The first took place in the apartment of Bernie Woods where a wedding was held on June 22.  Among the guests was 15-year-old Anna Treloar, presumably accompanied by her parents.  Anna left the ceremony early, according to police.  Later, expensive wedding gifts were discovered missing--a platinum watch, an onyx ring and silver cuff links.  On August 10, Anna was arrested and at the time she was wearing the platinum watch.  "The girl was held for the Children's Society, reported The New York Times.

The following month, on September 15, Detectives Cronin and Barrett thought that 21-year-old Loretta Floyd was acting "suspiciously" as she came out of the building with a suitcase.  Loretta was a maid in the apartment of Irving Finkelstein and his wife.  When they had her open the suitcase, they discovered, "valuable silk dresses, lingerie and other wearing apparel," reported The Evening Mail.  Loretta was charged with grand larceny.

The building continued to house middle-class professionals, like dentist Ernesto Calvo, here as early as 1928; and John G. Broady, an attorney with the firm Chadbourne, Stanchfield & Levy in 1930.

Abraham Adolph Rozen and his wife, Eva, came to America in 1941 and moved into 229 West 105th Street.  Abraham had been a leader among Polish Jews in Paris before leaving Europe.  Now he was a partner in a textile exporting concern.  The couple was still living in the building when Rozen suffered a fatal  heart attack at the age of 63 on March 10, 1954.

Elizabeth Horvath West lived here with her married daughter, Joyce Kaiden, and Joyce's five-month-old son in September 1960.  (The whereabouts of Joyce's husband is unclear.)  Elizabeth, who was 38, was estranged from her husband.  The Daily News described her as a "120-pound brunette-dyed-blonde."  On the night of September 6, she and three men, including 32-year-old Robert Hannigan, were seen at a rear table in the Castilian Room on East 75th Street.  

Elizabeth Horvath West, Daily News, September 8, 1960

Robert Hannigan was a bartender and convicted gambler.  He had been negotiating with the owner to buy the Castilian Room for about six months.  The Daily News said that Elizabeth was apparently meeting with him "to discuss the possibility of becoming hatcheck girl there in the fall."

The last of the club's employees left around 4:20 a.m.  A refuse collector entered at 5:50 and discovered the bodies of Elizabeth West and Robert Hannigan.  The Daily News said, "The killer shot Mrs. West three times, once in the abdomen, once in the neck and once in the head, the last slug penetrating the brain."  Hannigan's body was on the floor under a pay phone.  A dime on the carpet suggested he had tried to make a call when he was ambushed.

It appeared that Elizabeth was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Hannigan was "in the hole," according to the club's owner, "for $2,000 in business debts and a $7,000 mortgage."  Police thought that the money was the motive.  Elizabeth was murdered because she could have identified the killers.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The 1960s saw at least two activists in the building.  On October 2, 1961, Joseph Brandt was called to Washington to testify before the House Committee on Un-American Activities.  Brandt was a member of the National Assembly for Democratic Rights.  The Long Island Star-Journal reported that he "invoked the Fifth Amendment 60 times in refusing to answer questions."  And on May 18, 1968, 21-year-old Steven Goldfield was arrested with two other Columbia University students when they refused to leave a building on 114th Street while other students protested outside.

In 1970, The Besma Women's Association was founded here.  On May 27, 1972, the New York Amsterdam News reported on the group's upcoming annual Debutante Cotillion in the Grand Ballroom of the Statler Hilton.  The organization's headquarters is still in the building today.

The six-over-one windows survive in some apartments.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The name Esperanto was dropped decades ago.  But the apartments still contain five and six rooms and the exterior is essentially unchanged.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for prompting this post