The 1890 Rosemont - 210 West 105th Street

photo by Anthony Bellov

Architect John C. Burne designed two identical apartment buildings in 1889 at 210 and 212 West 105th Street between Amsterdam Avenue and The Boulevard (renamed Broadway in 1899).  Each would cost the developer, Diedrich Tragman, $20,000 to construct, or about $631,000 in 2026.  The outlay was too much for Tragman's resources and on May 10, 1890 was forced abandon the project.  The buildings were described in court papers as, "two five-story unfinished double flats in process of erection, requiring for the purpose of their completion an expenditure of about six thousand dollars."  (The term "double flat" referred to the configuration of two apartments per floor, east and west.)

The eastern building, 210 West 105th Street, was dubbed the Rosemont.  It and its counterpart were a happy marriage of Romanesque Revival and neo-Grec styles (the former appearing at the first and fifth floors).  The brownstone-framed entrances above short stoops were flanked by paired windows engulfed by vast arches.  Intricate swirling carvings filled the spandrels of the entrances.

Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta, the three-story midsections featured neo-Grec-style stone lintels and foliate terra cotta bandcourses and decorative panels.  The elements of the top floors included a dramatic brick arch above two fully arched openings.  It was supported by paired brick pilasters with terra cotta capitals.  A highly unusual pressed cornice with geometric horizonal and vertical lines completed the design.

An early advertisement in the New York Herald described, "Six fine rooms and bath; halls heated; select, small family; every room light; most attractive residence portion in the city.  Rent $23."  The monthly rent would translate to about $820 today.

The tenants were middle class, including Augustus Johnson, a locomotive engineer with The New York Central & Hudson River Railroad; Samuel Hamilton, an engineer with the Consolidated Gas Company, and inspector of buildings and retired police officer Michael Tully.  

Samuel Hamilton was born in 1840 and joined the Consolidated Gas Company in 1877.  He and his wife, Mary Ann, had a son and two daughters.  On the morning of June 3, 1900, he was inspecting the powerful machinery in the company's engine room on West 44th Street when something went terribly wrong.  The New York Times reported, "he was seen to stagger and fall into a pit in which a five-foot fly wheel was making 150 revolutions a minute."  The New York Herald added, "His body was whirled around by the wheel and when the machinery was stopped, he was dead."  Samuel Hamilton's funeral was held in his Rosemont apartment on July 5.

Following his retirement from the Police Department, Michael Tully had turned to construction.  (Incidentally, he received an annual police pension of $600, equal to about $23,500 today.)   In addition to that work, he was appointed an inspector of buildings in 1895.  He was still living here in July 1901 when he broke ground for a six-story brick tenement and store on West 26th Street.

Mary Ann Sullivan was also still occupying her Rosemont apartment that year.  She died on December 2, 1901 and, as had been the case with Samuel, her funeral was held in the apartment two days later.

Like Michael Tully, Daniel Brady was a contractor.  On September 28, 1910, he, his wife and their three children attended a funeral.  Just as their carriage crossed the plaza at Fifth Avenue and 59th Street, it collided with an automobile.  The New York Times reported, "The horses took fright and started south, running straight for the Vanderbilt mansion at Fifty-eighth Street."  

Three carriage drivers--Paul Anderson and George and Joseph Nathan--bolted into action.  The Nathans jumped on either side of the team and Anderson bravely darted "directly in front of the plunging horses to seize the bridle."  Happily for the Brady family, the team was eventually subdued and no one was injured.

Helen Wall Stevenson, who was known to audiences at Helen Cayvan, was described by The Evening World as "a prominent show girl."  She moved into the Rosemont with her two-year-old daughter, Muriel, in 1910.  

Helen Wall Stevenson, The Evening World, January 13, 1911 (copyright expired)

Helen was estranged from her husband, Clarence A. Stevenson, whom she married in 1907.  The Evening World reported, "Young Stevenson created a stir...by marrying Helen Wall Cayvan."  The "stir" had to do with Stevenson's being the step-son of wealthy Dr. Francis J. De Giers, owner of the Hotel Collingwood.  The couple's domestic problems started in May 1910 when, according to Helen, Clarence "deserted her."  Their troubles worsened that autumn when Helen "was found in the company of Kenneth E. Blair, a college student," in a Philadelphia hotel, according to The Evening World.

On the afternoon January 8, 1911, Helen dropped Muriel off with a Mrs. Cunningham.  When she returned to pick her up, Mrs. Cunningham explained that Clarence Stevenson, his mother and stepfather, had appeared with a "legal-looking document" that purported to be a court order.  They took Muriel with them.  Helen, "evidently in deep distress," said The New York Times, rushed to Police Headquarters and reported that Muriel had been kidnapped by her father.  She was told that the police could not interfere, "as it was the father who was alleged to have aided in the removal of the girl," explained The Times.  Helen was advised "to take the matter to court."

Six months later, on July 11, 1911, The Evening World began an article saying, "There was a new ripple on the choppy matrimonial sea of young Clarence A. Stevenson and his chorus girl wife."  Earlier, newspaperman George Flannery had accompanied Helen to the De Giers' summer home near Sea Gate to serve Stevenson with a subpoena.  He subsequently sued the entire Stevenson-De Giers family for assault.  He testified in court that "after she had served the subpoena, Dr. De Giers, his wife and young Stevenson had assaulted him."  The Evening World reported, "The two men, he said, had struck him in the face and Mrs. De Giers had scratched him."  Dr. Francis De Giers counter-sued, charging that Flannery had "struck him with a cane."

Astoundingly--given the times and Helen's profession and her reported cavorting with a college man--on June 29, 1911, The New York Times reported that the jury had ruled in her favor.  The article added that since her separation, she "had been a member of the Prince of Pilsen company, and had appeared in other Broadway attractions."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A prominent resident was politician and secretary of the Knights of Columbus, Charles J. Stuart.  When America entered World War I, he went to France as a representative of the Knights of Columbus to boost the morale of the 82nd and 89th Divisions.  His good will trip turned into deadly combat.  The Evening World reported, 

In the Argonne forest, Stewart [sic] said, he went forward with cigarettes, candy and paper for the troops, exhausted his supply, and, as the hand to hand fighting caused his life to be endangered, he secured a gun and fought through the engagement.

Unfortunately, said the newspaper, "he was gassed and sent home."

Charles J. Stuart, The Evening World, February 18, 1919 (copyright expired)

Sadly, shortly after returning to 210 West 105th Street, he and his wife suffered grief.  On December 1, 1919, their daughter Anna Agnes died.  Her funeral was held in the apartment on December 5.

The following year Stuart ran unsuccessfully for assemblyman on the Tammany Hall ticket.

Patrick J. Hurley lived here at the time.  Known as Paddy, he and Daniel and Connie Hurley had opened the Hurley Brothers & Daly saloon at 1240 Sixth Avenue in 1892.  When the Volstead Act was enacted, the headstrong Irishmen simply moved the bar to the rear of their building with an unmarked entrance and installed a florist shop in the front.  They did not fool two especially clever Federal agents, Izzy Einstein and Moe Smith, however.  On May 8, 1922, The New York Times said that the agents "with many disguises" had "unequaled records for trapping violators."  The previous day they had discovered the clandestine bar and slapped a fine on Patrick J. Hurley.

Artist Charles F. Beck lived here in 1924 and within the decade Ben Benn moved in.  Born in Russia in 1884 as Benjamin Rosenberg, he studied drawing and painting at the National Academy of Design from 1904 to 1908.  According to his biography by the Smithsonian Institution, Benn was "best known as a modern painter who assimilated in his early style the influences of Matisse, Picasso, and Kandinsky."  He was living here in 1925 when his first one-man show was held at the J. B. Neumann Gallery.

At midcentury, the neighborhood around 210 West 105th Street had become heavily Hispanic.  Soto Canedo, who worked as a stevedore, lived here in 1949.  On April 22 that year, the Staten Island Advance reported that the 34-year-old "suffered an internal injury yesterday when he fell about 12 feet into a hatch while working...aboard the SS Athenia."  Canedo recovered in Staten Island Hospital.

Vincent Magraner, who lived here in 1960, attended the United Puerto Rican-Hispano Parade on May 15 that year.  The 44-year-old was among 18 persons arrested for "disturbances," as reported by The New York Times.

image via apartments.com

As was the case in 1890, there are still just 10 units in the building.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post