Medicine, Socialists, and Theater - the Oft-Altered Merrill Williams House - 83 E. 4th Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

In the 1830s, a few developers lobbied the city to rename a block or two upon which they had erected high-end residences.  If they were successful, the blocks acquired a sense of exclusivity.  The 1836 Longworth's American Almanack explained, "Part of Fourth [Street], between the Bowery and Avenue 2d, has the soubriquet of Albion-place."

Among the homes along Albion Place was that of stockbroker John W. Stebbins and his family.  Their Federal-style house was faced in Flemish bond brick and sat above an English basement.  Originally two dormers pierced its peaked roof.  

Interestingly, the Stebbins family listed their address as 409 Fourth Street in 1836, rebuffing the Albion Place name.  And, equally interestingly, all of the subsequent occupants followed suit.  Visitors and mail carriers, nevertheless, would have other issues with which to contend in the upcoming years.  In 1850 the address was changed to 425 Fourth Street, and in 1864 to 83 East 4th Street.

Born in 1807, John W. Stebbins was a partner with his brother H. G. Stebbins in the brokerage firm Stebbins Brothers at 50 Wall Street.  Despite his young age, he was also the president of the Mercantile Library Association.  His residency here would be short-lived.  On June 4, 1837 he died at the age of 30 "after a protracted illness, according to The Evening Post.  His funeral was held on June 6 "from his late residence 409 Fourth st., Albion Place," said the newspaper.

When the property was scheduled to be sold at auction in February 1846, it was described as:

The elegant two story and modern attic brick house, No. 409 Fourth st, having basement and entire under cellars, tea room in rear, front and back stair ways, croton water in kitchen and second floor in closets.  It is altogether a first class modern house.

The mention of Croton water was significant.  Indoor plumbing, made possible by the Croton Reservoir, was not available before 1842.  So this house was among the very first to have the luxury--not to mention the "closets" on the second floor.  Water closets, or toilets, were an expensive indulgence.

The house was purchased by Henry A. and Rosalie Heiser.  At the time, Henry ran a dry goods business on Pearl Street.  He changed course in 1851, turning to shipping.

That year was one of joy and tragedy for the Heisers.  A baby boy, Russell, was born in May 1851 and he died just before turning four months on September 8th.  His funeral was held in the parlor the following afternoon.

The widowed Dr. Merrill Whitney Williams purchased the property in 1855.  Born in 1801, he married Eliza B. Duyrea in June 1826 and began his practice the following year.  Eliza died in 1844.  Moving into the house with Williams was his only surviving child, Elizabeth Ann (known as Lizzie), who was 20 years old in 1855.  (Two children John Duryea and Harriet Emma, died in childhood.)  Also living here was Williams's unmarried sister, Emma.

Emma Williams died in the house at the age of 74 on December 1, 1867.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on the 3rd.  

The room was the scene of a much happier event four months later.  Elizabeth was married here to merchant and banker Robert Macy Gallaway on April 20, 1868.  The newlyweds started their lives together in the East 4th Street house.

Dr. Merrill Whitney Williams died on December 3, 1873 at the age of 72.  Robert and Elizabeth left 83 East 4th Street within a few months.

By the time of Williams's death, the once-refined neighborhood of upscale private residences was quickly filling with immigrants and tenements.  No. 83 East 4th Street became a boarding house.

Among the first boarders was German-born Carl Denninghoff.  Born in 1835, he came to America in 1857 and found a job as a "drug clerk."  He lost his job in 1874 and 18 months later was still unable to find work.  On October 26, 1875, the New-York Tribune reported, "He was found dead in his bed yesterday afternoon, and had left a note stating that he had committed suicide."  Denninghoff had swallowed "an overdose of morphine."

While the upper portion of No. 83 continued as a boarding house, in 1881 Charles Steckler leased the basement for the Steckler Association, a political club.  On November 19, 1882, the New-York Tribune reported that, "having refurnished its rooms," the organization had a house warming.  The article said that Frederick H. Conkling "spoke of the principles of the two great parties, and he treated at length the Jeffersonian doctrines."

The following month, Charles Steckler was presented with a $1,000 diamond ring here in "recognition of his services."  (It was a generous tribute, worth about $32,500 in 2026 terms.)

By 1885, the boarding house portion was operated by a Mrs. Betz, described by The Sun as "a stout, good-natured German woman."  In January that year, a "German cripple and a tall, good-looking German with a broad moustache" climbed the stoop with a 16-year-old German girl."  They asked Mrs. Betz if she had a room for the teen.  The two men, they explained, were Marie Probanski's cousins and they had come with her "to vouch for her respectability."  

The Sun said that Marie's "fair, pretty face and bright brown eyes at once won the landlady's heart."  The mustached man paid a week's rent and the two left.  Marie found work as a seamstress and shortly became close friends with another boarder, actress Anna Rando.  After a few weeks, Marie confided into Anna.

She said she had come from Poland the previous August to visit her father and find work in America.  He found her a job as a servant, but she "gave it up because she wasn't strong enough," explained The Sun later.  She said her father eventually became abusive over her not working and she ran away.  Whether her story was true would never be known.

At 4:00 on the morning of February 11, 1885, Mrs. Betz was awakened by noises from Marie's room.  "She found the girl vomiting violently.  Beside her bed lay a little white envelope marked 'Arsenic--Poison.'"  Marie died shortly afterward.

As the boarders were gathered around the dining room table that night, "a short, dark-bearded German burst into the room, accompanied by a stout, rosy-cheeked woman."  The man was Marie's father, Joseph Probanski, and the woman her stepmother.  They had been searching for Marie for a month.  Joseph' story was far different from his daughter's.

The tall, 27-year-old man with the moustache, he said, was Oscar Lang.  "He is a scoundrel and a married man.  I'll fix him for this," he said.  He told Mrs. Betz, "He put the girl in this house so that I couldn't find her, and meant to ruin her.  She had a good home in my house with her stepmother."

Police searched for Oscar, but were initially able to find only his brother, Paul (the "cripple" who had appeared on the stoop that first day).  Paul added to the confusion of Marie's story.  He denied that Oscar was married, and said, "Her father swore at her, and told her to leave the house if she couldn't earn money...He wouldn't have had anything to do with sheltering her if her father had acted like a father to her."

The Steckler Association remodeled the basement level again in 1885.  Calling it "a strong political East Side organization, on April 27, the New-York Tribune reported it "received their friends in their newly renovated rooms at No. 83 East Fourth-st."  The article noted, "Many prominent politicians and business men were present."

The space became Frederick Bengal's "coffee-house," around 1890.  Charles Henry Parkhurst was not so sure that coffee was the only thing being traded here.  The clergyman and reformer founded the Society for the Prevention of Crime in 1891 and in November 1893 he sent word to Captain Doherty of the Fifth Street police station "that the coffee-houses in his precinct were nothing but gambling resorts."  During the last week of November, Doherty made raids on seven such places, including that of Frederick Bengel, who was arrested.

The post-World War I years saw the neighborhood become the center of labor and Socialist groups.  No. 83 East 4th Street was home to the Unemployment Council by 1921.  On December 4 that year, The New York Times explained, "The Unemployment Council is made up of delegates from various unions."

Within a year, the Organization of the Unemployed, the United Labor Council and the Workers' Party of America operated from the building.  On March 11, 1922, The Daily Worker reported on the 15 million people starving from famine in Russia.  "Can you witness this suffering without raising a hand to help?" asked the article.  It said that a "vast relief army is being mustered in New York City" and one of the stations where donations could be left was at 83 East 4th Street.

Around 1939, the attic was raised to a full floor.  Its wall of windows was topped with a stepped parapet.  The brick was painted white and the basement and parlor floor were converted to Royal Hall, a meeting and entertainment space.  On October 31, 1943, The New York Times reported that the United Nations Folk Dance Group met here once a week.

A canvas marquee sheltered patrons of The Royal in 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A decade later, the Royal Hall became the Royal Playhouse.  On October 30, 1953, a new play The Wedding Present by Ken Parker premiered here.

The Royal Playhouse was a short-lived venture.  In 1954, the Fourth Street Theatre opened.  It lasted until the Writers Stage Theater took over around 1960.  

In 1967, the New Dramatists Workshop operated within the building.  Two attendees of a performance of Megan Terry's Keep Tightly Clothed in a Cool Dry Place on March 23 that year were undercover officers.  In one scene, four actors--Yale University drama students--used an American flag as a blanket, threw it on the floor and rolled in it.  They were arrested for "desecrating an American flag."

On February 27, 1969, The New York Times reported that the Playwrights Unit, headed by Edward Albee, Richard Barr and Charles Woodward, had purchased 83 East 4th Street for $77,000 (about $675,000 today).  Barr and Woodward were the producers of the highly successful The Boys in the Band, and Albee was a Pulitzer Prize dramatist.  The article said, "The organization gives new dramatists an opportunity to see their scrips presented on a professional basis without the commercial pressure of paid public performances and newspaper criticism."  The theater space was now known as The Next Stage.

In 1972, the Players Workshop opened here, described by the New York Amsterdam News on October 28 as "a new performing arts center."  It offered courses and workshops in drama, dance, costume design and sewing.

A letter to the editor of The Villager printed on June 26, 1975, said that "the old Playwright's Unit theater is now operating under the name of Wonderhorse."  A product of The Alive Company, "a music-oriented performing theater group."  (The writer noted that when Wonderhorse was not in use, The Next Stage could use the space.)

Theater groups came and went.  In 1991, the New York Theatre Workshop purchased the property and moved in the following year.  (The group's principal performance venue is at 79 East 4th Street.)  No. 83 East 4th Street became a 75-seat "black box space" for readings, the organization's administrative offices, and a workshop.  The group continues in the vintage house today.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The Frank and Elizabeth Larom House - 219 West 78th Street

 

The extended Hall family were builders and developers.  William Hall began the tradition that was continued by his sons William W. and Thomas M. Hall.  (They operated both as William Hall's Sons and W. W. & T. M. Hall).  Joining in the familial trend were Arlington C., and Harvey M. Hall, who worked together; and William H. Hall Jr. and T. R. A. Hall.

In 1890, the latter two purchased ten building lots on the northern side of West 78th Street between Broadway and Amsterdam Avenue.  They hired the architectural firm of Thom & Wilson to design upscale, three-story and basement homes on the site.  Completed in 1891, they wore Romanesque Revival pants and Renaissance Revival shirts.

Among them was 219 West 78th Street.  Its basement and parlor levels were clad in chunky, undressed brownstone blocks, typical of the Romanesque Revival style.  Beefy carved stoop newels continued the motif.  Thom & Wilson introduced the Renaissance at the parlor floor with sumptuous fruit-and-flower carvings in the single lintel that connected the windows and above the doorway.  Formal fluted columns with complex capitals flanked the entranceway.

The second and third floors discarded any hints of Romanesque.  The windows within the planar brownstone surface were framed by shallow quoins and capped with lintels carved with intricate swags of fruits and flowers.  A pressed metal cornice with paired corbels completed the design.

On October 6, 1892, only two of the homes were still unsold, including No. 219.  An advertisement in The Evening Post for the "3-Story High-Class Houses" read:

For sale--206 and 219 West 78th St.; remainder of row of ten thoroughly seasoned; ready for decorating; restricted neighborhood front and rear.  Liberal mortgage.

The mention of "restricted neighborhood front and rear" meant that commerce (like stores) was prohibited on the 78th and 79th Street blocks.

The house underwent a quick succession of owners until about 1896 when glove importer Frank William Larom and his wife, the former Elizabeth Elmira Shute, moved in.  Born in 1862 and 1867 respectively, the couple was married on December 14, 1887.  They had two children, Irving Hastings and Edith Emerson.  

Elizabeth had deep American roots and was a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution and the National Society of New England Women.  Her father, builder William Shute, had erected the Grand Opera House.  Like most wives of affluent businessmen, Elizabeth was involved in charitable work.  She annually donated items to the New York State Woman's Relief Corps Home for orphans and wives of veterans.  In 1896, for instance, she donated "1 blanket, 5 tidies, 13 books, dolls and toys."  ("Tidies" were embroidered pieces of cloth used to protect the backs of upholstered furniture.)  The 1914 Woman's Who's Who of America would mention that Elizabeth "interested in animal welfare."  (She was a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.)  It also noted that she was "against woman suffrage."

Edith Emerson Larom was 12 years old when she died on April 21, 1905.  The little girl's casket sat in the parlor until her funeral there on April 24.

The 1914 Social Register listed Irving Hastings Larom as living in the Cottage Club at Princeton University.  Known as Larry, upon his graduation the following year, he relocated to the Far West with Winthrop Brooks (of the Brooks Brothers family).  They established Valley Ranch near Cody, Wyoming.  A dude ranch, he advertised in part, "You'd enjoy wearing ranch clothes, the cowboys, the ranch work, the saddle-leather atmosphere of the place."

Now empty nesters, Frank and Elizabeth sold 219 West 78th Street in December 1918 to Dr. Ferdinand G. Kneer and his wife, the former Annie L. Thoe.  Kneer had been the pathologist at Harlem Hospital, and was now a surgeon at St. Katherine's Hospital.  Additionally, he was also president of the Kneer-Kuhl Co. and an amateur photographer and a pioneer in the creation of colored "optical lantern" slides.  He used those in illustrating his lectures.

Ferdinand G. Kneer died on June 17, 1927.  His funeral was held in the parlor three days later, followed by services in the Church of the Transfiguration on East 29th Street.  Annie did not remain in the house for long.  She sold it in February 1929 to the Monel Holding Corporation.  The New York Times remarked that the buyer "will remodel the premises into small suites."

Something went awry with the negotiation, however.  The Monel Holding Corporation was still leasing the property from Annie L. Kneer as late as 1934.  On November 13, 1938, The New York Times reported that Annie L. Kneer had leased the house to a new tenant for five years.  "The tenant will alter the building," said the article.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The residence was remodeled again after the Feingold Realty Corporation purchased it in September 1962.  "The buyer, an architect, plans to alter the building into small apartments, one of which he will occupy," reported The New York Times.  That architect was Alexander Feingold.  He reconfigured the interior to seven apartments while preserving the exterior appearance. 

At the time of Feingold's purchase, the neighborhood had severely declined from the era when Frank and Elizabeth Larom first stepped from their carriage in front of the stoop.  Thirty-five years later, Feingold still lived here.  He recalled his early years in the house to The New York Times journalist Christopher Gray in 1995, saying, "the block was plagued by prostitution and drugs."  Feingold and his neighbors turned things around.  Gray reported, "An early step forward, around 1966, was the planting of trees by the Department of Parks, followed by brick enclosures Mr. Feingold's firm designed for the tree pits a few years later."

There are still seven apartments in the building.  And Thom & Wilson's interesting hybrid design is amazingly intact.

photographs by the author

The Lost 1826 Masonic Hall - 316 Broadway

 

from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On April 18, 1826, the Masonic Hall Association announced in the New-York Evening Post its intention "to commence building a Masonic Hall, for the accommodation of all the lodges and other masonic bodies in this city, in the ensuing month."  The article offered "subscriptions to the stock of said association" for $10 each--about $330 in 2026 terms. 

The cornerstone was laid on June 24, 1826.  The Evening Post remarked that New Yorkers had witnessed, "for the first time, we believe, in twenty years, the novel and interesting spectacle of a Masonic Procession."  The article mentioned that inscribed on the stone, along with names of the trustees and builders, was, "Brother Hugh Reinagle, Architect."  The New York Times added, "Many thousands of our citizens were present to witness the ceremony."

The $10 stock certificates depicted Reinagle's rendering.  from the collection of the New York Masonic Library.

Reinagle was not an architect, but a well-known landscape painter.  Nonetheless, his Masonic Hall was one of the first Gothic Revival structures in America.  The New York Times would recall in 1856, "At the time of its erection, it was looked upon as a prodigy of American architecture." 

Sitting on Broadway between Duane and Worth Streets, the building was completed in 1827 at a cost of $50,000, or about $1.7 million today.  It was faced in "eastern gray granite," according to The New York Times.  Two triple Gothic-arched arcades flanked the main entrance, which was ornamented with Gothic crockets.  A row of stone quatrefoils introduced the second floor, which was dominated by a central arched window 22 feet high and 10 feet wide.  The New York Times described it as being, "divided into small diamond-shaped window panes in leaden frames."  The third floor sat between an intermediate cornice and slightly projecting band course.  A rose window distinguished the fourth floor and the crenelated roofline sprouted crocketed pinnacles.

Geo. P. Hall & Son depicted the residential neighborhood around Masonic Hall in 1830.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Historian Rufus Rockwell Wilson would recall in his 1903 New York: Old & New, "A costly Gothic structure, its first floor was given up to a single spacious apartment, intended for public meetings, concerts, and balls, while its third story was arranged for the meetings of the fraternity from which it borrowed its name."  Visitors entered a long hall that extended through the length of the building.  The Grand Saloon--95 feet long, 20 feet high and 47 feet wide--on the second floor was described by The New York Times as "the most splendid apartment of the kind in the United States."  According to the newspaper, Reinagle had based its design on the Chapel of Henry VII in Westminster Abbey, saying:

The ceiling was beautifully ornamented, and fancifully divided into light arches with numerous decorations...Open-work columns supported arches which projected from the side walls, between which were false windows wreathed with flowers cut in stone, and carved corbels, and other architectural adornments.

There were historic-themed spaces.  The New-York Tribune (which described the Grand Saloon as a "splendid memorial of feudal age, and venerated relic of the early arts,") said that the Great Doric Hall was "equally distinguished for its simplicity, its beauty, and commanding size."  Another of the semi-public spaces, according to the article, was the Reading-Room Library.

New Yorkers had an opportunity to see selected spaces on November 30, 1827.  An announcement in the New-York Evening Post said:  

The public is informed that the Gothic Saloon in that splendid edifice, the Masonic Hall, will be opened for inspection on Wednesday...at which time the whole of the decorations, Grand Lodge furniture, hangings, &c., used at the dedication, can be seen.  The Chapter Lodge and Banqueting rooms can be viewed at the same time.

Tickets to tour the three areas cost 25 cents, or about $8 today.

Certain meeting rooms were available for rent.  On October 30, 1828, for instance, the Republican Electors of the Sixth Ward held a meeting for promoting the nomination of "the election of General Andrew Jackson" for President.  The following year, a meeting of the Friends of the American System backed Henry Clay for the U.S. Senate here.

The Grand Saloon was the scene of the Scottish themed Thistle Ball on March  18, 1829.  The New-York Evening Post reported, "Two Bag Pipers, and a number of Gentlemen in Highland Costume, will promenade the room before the commencement of the Ball."  This was a benefit event for John Graham, "as a mark of respect for his genius, the emanations of which have so frequently enlivened of public festivals; and also, an alleviation of his affliction, he being entire deprived of sight."

from the collection of the New York Masonic Library

Later that year, in October, a less expected function took place.  The New-York Evening Post reported that a boa constrictor was on exhibition.  "Although but about five years of age, it already measures some seventeen or eighteen feet in length," said the article.  Another snake, an anaconda, had been removed from the exhibition because, "it is now torpid from the process which it is undergoing of changing its skin."  The article proposed, however, "When the shedding shall be completed, an opportunity will probably be afforded to the public of seeing this animal destroy and swallow its quarterly meal."

In 1827, the body of anti-Mason William Morgan washed up on the shore of Lake Ontario.  Shortly after, David Cade Miller published a book that strongly suggested that he had been murdered by Masons.  The book eventually affected Masonic Hall.  Rufus Rockwell Wilson recalled in 1903, "But following the blow given to Masonry by the disappearance of William Morgan, its name was changed to Gothic Hall."

Gothic Hall continued to be the venue of political rallies, temperance meetings, and exhibitions.  On July 26, 1841, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported on the "grand opening fete" of the temperance movement.  Among the activities, said the article, was "an elegant supper, upon Temperance principles, served up in the Doric Hall with the same splendor and magnificent that was displayed in London at the Great Temperance Festival at the Coloseum [sic]."

from the collection of the New York Public Library

On November 29, 1854, an advertisement in the New-York Tribune read: "On Friday, Dec. 1., the marvelous Hybrid, or Bear-Woman, will be exhibited--pronounced by naturalists as a mysterious link combining the Human Species with the Brute Creation."

At the time of the Bear-Woman's appearance here, the end of the magnificent structure was near.  On May 26, 1856, The New York Times reported, "They are tearing down Gothic Hall, in Broadway."  After reminiscing about the building's history and mentioning that it had held the "largest bowling alley in the world," the article said, "The workmen are busily engaged in tearing down the walls of the edifice, and in a few days nothing will remain on the spot but dust and ruins."

Today the Jacob K. Javits Federal Building sits on the site.

image by Ajay Suresh

The 1887 Henry and Helen Hirsch House - 116 East 95th Street

 

In 1887 developer brothers William J. and John P. C. Walsh set out on an ambitious project of a row of 12 residences on the south side of the 95th Street block between Lexington and Park Avenues--numbers 116 to 138.  The steeply sloping site was known as Goat Hill.

The architectural firm of C. Abbott French & Co. turned to the popular Queen Anne style in designing the individual, yet harmonious homes.  Seen more frequently on the west side of Central Park, the often-whimsical style played with historic elements, materials, shapes and colors.

Like its neighbors, 116 East 95th Street was three stories tall above a brownstone fronted basement.  A dog-legged box stoop rose to the segmentally arched doorway, the terra cotta lintel of which connected that of the window creating a graceful wavelike effect.  A cast metal oriel, flanked by basketweave brick panels, dominated the second floor.  The openings of the third floor wore elaborate terra cotta decoration--the outer windows crowned with arches filled with sunbursts and mythical faces, and the central opening topped with a draped swans' head pediment.  Rather than a cornice, the house was completed by an arched brick parapet supported by a complex brick corbel table.

The house had a rocky start.  Its original owner, James R. Cuming, lost it in foreclosure in 1891 to Daniel P. Mahoney.  He immediately sold it to Henry Wallach, who sold it to Irving and Mollie Hirschfeld in May 1895.  The couple paid $16,500 for the house, or about $636,000 in 2026.

The Hirschfelds, too, would not remain especially long.  On April 12, 1902, they announced the engagement of their daughter, Minnie, to Henry Cohen.  Before the end of the year, they had sold 116 East 95th Street to Henry Hirsch and his wife, the former Helen Ella Gattman.

Henry was born in 1839 and Helen around 1845.  They couple, who were married in 1864, had seven adult children.  In July 1903, only months after purchasing No. 116, the couple hired architect J. Berry to make the equivalent of $276,000 today in interior renovations. 

Helen Hirsch, of course, had a small domestic staff.  On March 29, 1906, for instance, she advertised, "A neat girl wanted as chambermaid, assist washing; small private family.  116 East 95th st."

Henry Hirsh died in the house at the age of 77 on May 26, 1916.  His succinct, two-line death notice said, "Interment private."

Four years later, on May 5, 1920, The New York Times reported that Helen Ella Hirsch had sold the 20-foot-wide house.  The buyers were Latham Gallup Reed and his wife, the former Mary Newbold Welsh.

An attorney, Reed was born in Albany on December 10, 1855.  His American pedigree was deep and he descended from members of the Plymouth Colony.  His father was an Episcopalian priest, Rev. Sylvanus Reed, and his mother, Caroline Gallup Reed, "maintained a fashionable girls' school," according to The New York Times later. He studied at Columbia before transferring to Cambridge University where he earned his law degree.

He and Mary were married in 1884.  Latham was 29 and his bride was 25.  The couple had a son, Latham Ralston, and a daughter, Elizabeth Eunice.  When they moved into 116 East 95th Street, Latham Reed had been retired for six years.  The family's country home was in Locust, New Jersey.

Elizabeth, who never married, lived with her parents.  She was, perhaps, more visible in society than her mother.  On October 30, 1928, for instance, The New York Times reported, "Miss Elizabeth Reed...gave a reception yesterday afternoon at the Junior League Club, 133 East Sixty-first Street, for the Countess de la Gabbe, who is here from Paris."

Mary Newbold Welsh Reed died in the East 95th Street house on November 26, 1943 at the age of 84.  Her funeral was held two days later in All Saints Memorial Church in Navesink, New Jersey.

The stained-glass transoms of the parlor level and the charming  multi-paned, Queen Anne-style sashes of the top floor were intact in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1945, Latham Gallup Reed fell ill.  He died "after a brief illness," according to The New York Times, on November 29 at the age of 89.  The newspaper described him as an "internationally known lawyer."

No. 116 East 95th Street was sold the following year in June to Colonel George Leonidovich Artamonoff and his wife, the former Jessie Downing.  Born in Kursk, Russia on April 21, 1902, Artamonoff's father was General Leonid Konstantinovich Artamonoff of the Imperial Russian Army.  George fought in the White Army in 1919 before fleeing to the United States in 1921.

At the outbreak of World War II, Artamonoff was commissioned a major in the United States Army.  The conflict would cut short the couple's residency here.  The New York Times reported that in 1947, he was made "director of the Tokyo office of the Marshall Plan."  He was charged with "restoring economic relations between Japan and countries of Southeast Asia."  The Artamonoffs leased the house until June 1949, when they sold it.  

The subsequent occupants of the residence continued to be affluent--albeit not always as upstanding as their predecessors.  Harold Von Maker lived here in 1968 when was one of eight men, "including Carmine Lombardozzi, the Mafia figure," according to The New York Times, who were arrested by the FBI.  They were charged for conspiracy to steal brokerage checks.

Five years later, on August 16, 1973, The East Hampton Star reported that "Steven H. Maltby, 22, of 116 East 95th Street, New York" had been arrested.  He was charged "with criminal possession of a dangerous drug in the sixth degree (LSD)."

The house, still a single-family home, was renovated in 2020.  It was most likely at this time, that the stained-glass in the parlor floor transoms were removed in the process of replacing the windows.  

photographs by the author

The Peter R. Bonnett House - 6 East 12th Street

 

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Around 1846, two nearly identical, 25-foot-wide Greek Revival homes were completed at 154 and 156 Twelfth Street (renumbered 4 and 6 East 12th in 1855).  Similar to mansions erected on the north side of Washington Square a decade earlier, their wide stone stoops rose to handsome porticos supported by fluted columns with palm leaf capitals.  The floor-to-ceiling parlor windows were, most likely, fronted by cast iron balconies.  The encroaching Italianate style was reflected in a tiny detail--the foliate brackets that co-existed with the Greek Revival dentils of the cornices.

The eastern house was erected by Peter Riker Bonnett, a wealthy grocer whose operation was at 202 Front Street.  Born in 1801, he married 20-year-old Maria Saltonstall in August 1835.  The couple would have eight children: Charlotte Augusta, Louisa, Daniel (who died in 1843 at the age of four), Daniel Blake, Mary Jane, Lucretia Saltonstall, Charles Pierre, and John Bingham.

Sadly, the family had just settled into their new home when John died on May 21, 1846, just two months after his fourth birthday.  His little casket sat in the parlor until his funeral on Saturday afternoon, May 23.

Margaret Targee lived with the couple in the 1850s.  Born in 1814, she was the daughter of the well-known silversmith John Targee, who died in 1850.  Never married, it is unclear whether she boarded with the Bonnetts or was simply a close friend.  She died at the age of 45 on May 25, 1859 and her funeral was held here two days later.

Peter Bonnett died on September 4, 1871 at the age of 70.  Interestingly, his funeral was not held in the parlor, but in St. George's Church three days later.

Maria Bonnett left 6 East 12th Street in 1878.  She rented the house for two years to metal dealer George A. Crocker, starting that year.  Then, in 1881, Reverend Philip A. H. Brown, minister-in-charge of St. John's Chapel, leased the property.  He also sat on the executive committee of the New York Protestant Episcopal City Mission Society, which was listed here.

By 1885, Brown shared the house with the offices of the Young Women's Christian Association.  Its "industrial department" gave lessons on sewing, which provided them a means to earn a living.  On March 25, 1886, The Christian Union announced:

The Young Women's Christian Association, now at 6 East Twelfth Street, New York, has an industrial department, where sewing of all kinds is given out to competent workers who are compelled to be self-supporting.  Orders will be received by mail, materials as well as labor furnished.

The Evening Post, December 12, 1885 (copyright expired)

Operating from a residence quickly revealed its shortcomings.  On January 11, 1886, the officers of the Young Women's Christian Association met at the house of "Miss Stokes."  The New-York Tribune explained, "The meeting was held at a private house, as the accommodations of the rooms now occupied by the Association are too small for the officers and their friends."  The article continued, "All the classes connected with the institution have been given up this winter, as there is not room for them in the present quarters at No. 6 East Twelfth-st."

The association moved into new, larger accommodations and Reverend Brown remained here at least through 1890.  By 1895, Reverend Howard Duffeld of the nearby First Presbyterian Church occupied 6 East 12th Street.  The erudite clergyman was a member of the elite Century Association.

Reverend Duffeld left in 1896 and the house was next rented to the socially prominent Augusta Lovett Kingsland Jones.  Born in 1839, her husband, Herman LeRoy Jones died in 1880.  (The Jones family had been at the pinnacle of New York high society since the early 19th century and were reputedly the inspiration of the term, "keeping up with the Joneses.")  Living with Augusta was her son, Herman Jr., and her daughter and son-in-law, Mary Kingsland Jones and William Bradford, Jr.

That the Bradfords lived with Augusta is somewhat surprising.  Mary had wed Bradford in 1891 "without the knowledge of her mother," said the New-York Tribune.  When the extended family moved into 6 East 12th Street, the Bradfords' only son, William Jr., was three years old.

In what must have been an unwelcomed case of déjà vu for Augusta, on March 12, 1896, the New-York Tribune began an article saying, "Society was treated to a mild sensation yesterday by the announcement of the marriage of Mrs. Margaret Dunscombe Hone to Herman Leroy Jones."  The couple was married on February 16 and, according to Herman, they had told their families only a few days before the article.

Herman, assuredly, would have faced a confrontation had he informed his mother before marrying Margaret.  Although she had a sterling social pedigree, being the eldest child of former Mayor Philip Hone, she came with what many socialites would consider unforgiveable baggage.

Known to her friends as Rita, she married Archibald Kennedy Kearny Mackay in 1890.  The event was "one of the fashionable affairs of the winter season," according to the New-York Tribune.  Only weeks later, in May, she divorced him and within one or two days after the divorce was granted, she married an actor, Paul T. Wilkes.  In 1894, Rita divorced Wilkes and, as if society was not already sufficiently shocked, she "appeared on the stage under the name of Virginia Paul," as reported by the New-York Tribune.

The newlyweds moved into the East 12th Street mansion.  Having two Mrs. Herman Leroy Jones at the address caused some confusion.  Newspapers that reported on an incident that took place in the winter of 1899, for instance, did not distinguish which Mrs. Jones was involved.  

On December 7, the New York Herald reported that Mrs. Jones engaged a cab "to do some shopping."  The cabbie, John Downey, became frustrated with his female client.  The newspaper said, "after driving to half a dozen stores his actions became so disagreeable that Mrs. Jones called a policeman and caused his arrest."  The incident drew attention nationwide, partially because well-bred women went to lengths to keep their names out of newspapers for reasons other than social events.

The following day, The Chicago Tribune wrote, "Mrs. Herman Leroy-Jones, society woman, of 6 East Twelfth street...was courageous enough to appear today in the Jefferson Market Police Court."  The article revealed that Mrs. Jones was not only courageous, but sympathetic.  As she noticed tears running down Downey's checks, she paused by him.

"Please, ma'am," he said.  "Do be merciful.  It is the first time I have ever done such a thing, and it will be the last time, believe me, ma'am."

Mrs. Jones first turned to the magistrate and said, "He has been punished enough.  I will not prosecute him."  Then she turned back to Downey and said, "Now, here is the dollar I owe you.  Let this be a lesson to you and all cabmen who are rude to women."

On March 20, 1900, seven-year-old William Bradford Jr. died and, once again, a funeral was held in the parlor of 6 West 12th Street.

Although she provided a home to her children and their spouses and despite her personal wealth, it appears that Augusta Kingsland Jones intended that they stand on their own financial feet.  On January 14, 1903, The New York Times reported that Herman Leroy Jones, "a well-known society man," had filed for bankruptcy, "with liabilities of $87,965 and assets nominal."  (The debt would equal $3.2 million in 2026.)

At the time, the ladies' tailor Haas Brothers had been attempting to receive payment of his wife's bills.  Now with Jones in bankruptcy, the firm sued Margaret directly.  Mentioning that she lived in "the old Jones mansion," on December 15 The Evening World reported that Margaret "failed to appear for examination in supplementary proceedings to-day."  Her bill, which stretched back to 1897, would equal about $30,000 today.  The article commented, "The Herman Le Roy Joneses are conspicuous in fashionable society."

The pressure apparently took a toll, and Margaret suffered a breakdown.  She was committed to a sanitarium for nervous exhaustion until May 6, 1904.  The Evening World reported that upon her release, "She was under rigid restraint and surveillance in her mother-in-law's mansion, at No. 6 East Twelfth street...She was allowed to go nowhere without some member of her immediate family or a servant in her company."

Ten days after Margaret returned home, Herman thought a trip to the races would do her good.  And so, on the afternoon of May 16, 1904, the couple accompanied millionaire Robert L. Cutting to the races at Morris Park.  What Herman expected to be a pleasant afternoon turned to anything but when Margaret disappeared.

After the first race, Herman and Cutting left Margaret in their box to go to the betting ring.  When they returned, she was gone.  When she did not return after a considerable period, the two men became alarmed.  They searched the ground and the clubhouse and made repeated inquiries, but no one had seen her.  Finally giving up, Herman returned home around 6:00.

About half an hour later, a boy rang the bell with a note from Margaret, written on stationery of the Brevoort Hotel just four blocks away on Fifth Avenue.  In it, according to Robert Cutting, she "declared her intention of leaving her husband and working for her own living."  The two men rushed to the hotel, but the clerk said a woman matching Margaret's description had merely stopped in and used the writing room.

On May 26, Jones received information from a woman who lived in a 22nd Street boarding house that his wife was living there.  He and Cutting went there and examined the room and Jones recognized some of Margaret's clothing.  They waited in the parlor until she returned.  She arrived at about 6:00 that evening and Herman brought her back to 6 East 12th Street.  Neither he nor Cutting would discuss the incident.

The Joneses moved out in 1907 and on April 9 that year, The New York Times reported that the Bonnett Estate had leased the house to Samuel Medlin for five years.  By then, the Lower Fifth Avenue neighborhood had drastically changed as millionaires migrated northward and commerce invaded the once exclusive district.

Medlin converted the basement for commercial use.  In 1909, Morris F. Pfaelzer operated his fur business, M. F. Pfaelzer & Company, here.  He would remain here until 1913 when M. L. Weiss, "dealer in cornices and skylights," moved his operation in.

After being in the family for more than seven decades, on February 19, 1918, the New York Herald reported that Charles P. Bonnett had sold 6 East 12th Street to M. L. Weiss, "who occupies the lower floor of this building."  Weiss resold the house to Thomas Snell who leased it and the house next door at 4 East 12th Street to the Winifred Warren Company in 1919.  The New-York Tribune reported that the firm "will alter the houses into studio apartments."

Among the first tenants was Jessie Franklin Turner, a fashion designer, here in 1919.  Turner established workrooms and showrooms in both houses.  

An advertisement in the New-York Tribune on September 26, 1920, offered an available apartment in 6 East 12th Street: "Two large rooms with bath in Colonial house for studio or professional offices."

In 1925, Belfast-born poet Joseph Campbell and Michael Walsh established The School of Irish Studies in the building.  Among the initial courses it offered were the "History of Ireland from the Earliest Times to the Latest Developments," and "Irish Literature from the Ancient Hero-Tales to Post-James Joyce."  It additionally presented lectures on Irish history, language, literature and art.  It would operate here through 1927.

The canopy of the Blue Heaven Restaurant that resulted from the 1936 renovation can be seen in this 1940 photograph.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

An renovation by architect Hans C. Volz in 1936 resulted in a restaurant, the Blue Heaven, in the basement and one apartment per floor on the upper portion.  It was likely during this remodeling that the upper floor windows were enlarged.  The configuration lasted until 1945 when the basement was converted to an apartment.

The ever-changing basement became the Peridot Gallery, headed by Lou Pollack in 1949.  (It was likely during this renovation that the stoop was removed.)  The gallery featured avant-garde and Abstract Expressionist art.  In the 1960s, writer Robert Phelps and his artist wife Rosemarie Beck occupied an apartment here.  An Abstract Expressionist, Beck's works likely appeared in the gallery downstairs.

The top floor windows would have originally be squat, matching those of No. 4 next door.

The basement level was renovated again in 2009 when it became part of a duplex apartment with the parlor level.  

photographs by the author