The John T. Farley House - No. 303 West 90th St

photograph by the author

Builder Terrence Farley was described by the Bulletin of the Building Trades Employers' Association as "prominently identified with the improvements of the upper west side in the early eighties, following the opening of the elevated road."  His sons, John T. and James A. Farley, continued the business, forming T. Farley's Sons.  By 1898 T. Farley's Sons had established a reputation for its high-end structures.  They were responsible, for instance, for the mansions of Jacob H. Schiff, Frank J. Gould and William Guggenheim.

That year they began construction of seven high-end rowhouses which wrapped the northwest corner of West End Avenue and 90th Street.  Prolific architect Clarence F. True received the commission and, in keeping with his architectural flair, he married two distinct historical styles--Elizabethan Renaissance and Flemish Renaissance Revival--to create an eye-catching row.

While several of the homes sprouted elaborate carved decoration and distinctive Flemish gables, No. 303 West 90th Street was reserved, nearly to the point of severity.  Especially wide at 24 feet, the handsome arched entrance sat below an ornate carved cartouche which announced the address.  The bowed limestone facade at the second and third floors was banded in wide flat courses and featured two stone and iron balconettes.  Above it all the pitched roof was covered in red tiles and distinguished by two prominent dormers with arched pediments.  Attractive wrought iron fencing defined the areaway.

As the project neared completion in October 1899 the Farleys placed an advertisement in the New-York Tribune.  "These houses contain several novelties, and are designed and built to please the most FASTIDIOUS, and are constructed in the best manner possible.  The location is the very choicest and MOST FASHIONABLE in New York, and in the immediate neighborhood of the handsomest and most expensive improvements."

One of the seven, however, would not be offered for sale.  John T. Farley kept No. 303 West 90th Street for his family.   Farley and his wife had four sons.  

John Farley's fortune afforded him and his family a lifestyle similar to his wealthy clients.  He was a member of the Westchester Country Club, the Larchmont Yacht Club, and the Suburban Riding and Driving Club.  He was also  a member of the Coney Island Jockey Club.   The New-York Tribune explained that while he was "not prominent in the racing world," he was "a lover of good horse flesh."

The Farleys hosted a formal card party in the house in 1901.  Note the cove ceilings.  While interior decorating taste required perfect symmetry in the window treatments, it did not extend to the artwork on the walls.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The health of the 46-year old builder deteriorated in 1904, but did not seem to be the cause of excessive worry.  Then, on Wednesday, January 4, 1905 he suffered a fatal heart attack in the 90th Street house.   The Record & Guide noted "his sudden death was a surprise to his family and friends."

The house was briefly leased to James Shewan and his family.  Shewan had come to New York from his native Ireland in 1869 at the age of 21.  The following year he married Ellen Curley and the couple had two sons and four daughters.

Apprenticed as a ship's carpenter in Ireland, he started a dry dock and ship repair business in New York.  By the time he moved into the 90th Street house with Ellen and one daughter The Evening World described him as "rated as many times a millionaire" and noted he "has a great country estate at Cold Spring Harbor, L.I."

The Shewan family, which had "a prominent place in society," dealt with an embarrassing situation in April 1906.  James Shewan, Jr. lived in an "expensive apartment in Cross Chambers, No. 210 Fifth avenue," according to The Evening World.  He was thrown into a panic on the afternoon of April 26.

Yvonne du Mont, wife of the wealthy New Orleans rubber manufacturer Edgar R. du Mont, was described by the World as "a strikingly pretty young woman, and always appeared to be well supplied with money."  She had come to New York about a week earlier to attend a family wedding and took an apartment in the Belleclaire,  on Broadway at 77th Street.

She was found in her rooms by hotel attendants, "suffering from the effects of two corrosive sublimate tables she had swallowed."  She asked them to send word to young Shewan.  Newspapers were quick to following the movements of the socially-prominent young man.

"He hurried to the hospital and most of the night he was at the side of her cot, working with the doctors and half hysterical in his pleadings to save the young woman's life," reported the newspaper the following day.  Naturally, society was puzzled at his involvement with the married woman.

When a reporter stopped him as he left the hospital, "he was surprised that his identify had become public."  He answered questions saying "Oh, I'm merely a friend of--her husband's."

And that husband's business partner quickly attempted to squelch rumors of impropriety between Yvonne and Shewan.  "She had no trouble whatever," said C. H. Taylor.  "She and her husband were the chummiest of chums, and I know that they love each other very much."

Mrs. du Mont recovered, but her reputation did not.  In September 1911 she was spotted on Broadway by Mrs. George Harwood Barrett, the "beautiful young Boston wife of the portrait painter," as described by the Richmond, Virginia Times Dispatch.   The Barretts lived, at the time, in "magnificent apartments near Riverside Drive."

The unsuspecting Yvonne du Mont was "publicly caned" by the irate woman.  According to the Times Dispatch, "She portrayed Mrs. Dumont in the dual capacity of New Orleans society leader and as a 'vampire,' who makes periodical visits to this city to take part in affaires du coeur, free from the irksome supervision of her husband."

In the meantime, the Shewans left West 90th Street in 1907, leasing the furnished mansion of Mrs. W. E. Woodward at No. 58 west 71st Street.  No. 303 became the unhappy home of Allen Lawrence Story and his young wife, the former Helen Hilton, who were married that year.  The bride was just 16 years old and The New York Times said "The marriage was a runaway affair and created much excitement in Washington society circles, in which the bride's parents were so prominent for many years."

Story was the son of well-known and outspoken Mrs. William Cummings Story who was frequently quoted in newspapers for her "strong opinions" on topics such as her stand against pacifism.  Helen had inherited money from the estate of her grandfather, United States Circuit Court Judge Henry Hilton.  The couple had a daughter, Ruth, in 1908; but the relationship quickly deteriorated.

Despite his privileged background, according to Helen Allen "refused to contribute anything toward the household expenses from his income.  She was obliged to pay everything and eventually her husband "stayed for the most part at the home of his mother" at No. 86 Gramercy Park.

On September 26, 1911 Allen arrived with his brother, Harold Story, saying he wanted to retrieve some of his old clothes.  Little Ruth's nurse, Dikka Carlsen, was holding the toddler in her arms when the men entered the house.  According to Helen later, "they took the child from the nurse by violence and shoved her away when she tried to stop them."  Dikka ran after the car, but, according to Helen, "her husband and his brother beat her off and made away with the child."

Ruth was taken to Mrs. William Cummings Story's residence.  Every time Helen tried to see her daughter, she was told Mrs. Story was out.  The New York Times reported on November 29 that "She says she has learned that Mrs. Story has ordered that she shall not be admitted to the Gramercy Park house."

Helen took legal action against Allen, and on November 28 Supreme Court Justice Seabury ordered him to produce Ruth in court.  Helen told reporters that she believed "she has an excellent chance of getting the custody of her daughter."

The house that had once seen society dinners and other entertainments was, by 1931, a rooming house operated by Kurt Heppe.  That year it would be the scene of a sensational shootout straight from a gangster movie.  Years later Heppe told a reporter that running rooming houses was "anything but dull," adding "You meet such interesting people."

Perhaps the most interesting was 19-year old Francis Crowley whom Heppe described as a "model tenant."  The teen had rented the rooms on the top floor under a fictitious name, and for good reason.     

Born on October 31, 1912 to an unmarried German immigrant and, reportedly, a policeman.  He was immediately put up for adoption at the "baby farm" run by Mrs. Annie Crowley.  Annie kept the infant, giving him her surname.  The New York Times would later say she "brought him up as well as she could."

But Crowley was challenged.  The newspaper described him as "undersized, underchinned, underwitted--he never could learn to read and write in any but the crudest fahsion and he never developed beyond the mental age of ten and a half--the world would never have known he existed if he had not turned to crime.  And having vanity, he turned to crime."


Crowley ran away from home in his teens and fell in with gangs.  He was fascinated with automobiles, which he frequently stole.  His foster brother, John Crowley, was no doubt partially responsible for his violent criminal path.  In 1925 John was involved in a shoot out with Patrolman Maurice F. Harlow, in which both men died.

Francis became bolder, participating in a shoot out in front of the American League Headquarter in the Bronx in February 1931.  Shortly after that, when Patrolman George Schaedel tried to arrest him, Crowley shot and seriously wounded him.  Before long he earned the street name "Two-Gun Crowley."

His closest friend and crime partner was Rudolph "Fats" Duringer, a truckman.   Early in the morning of April 27, 1931 the Crowley was driving a stolen car.  Inside were Duringer and a dance hall hostess named Virginia Brannen.   Duringer's motives are fuzzy--rape and robbery were both suggested--but for whatever reason he shot Virginia in the head and they dumped her body near St. Joseph's Cemetery in Yonkers.

On May 6 Crowley and his girlfriend, 16-year old Helen Walsh, were sitting in another stolen car when two policemen approached the car and asked for identification.  Crowley responded by fatally shooting Hirsch and seriously wounding Yodice.

The case drew to a head when police showed a photograph of Crowley to Kurt Heppe.  He identified the wanted man as his top floor tenant.  The day after murder of Officer Hirsch, "more than 100 policemen...armed with tear gas, axes, shotguns, rifles, machine-guns and pistols, besieged the place," reported The Times.  Inside the apartment were Crowley, Duringer and Helen Walsh.

The Brooklyn Standard Union estimated the number of police on West 90th Street that day at 300.  A crowd of about 1,000 civilians grew around the perimeter of the two-hour siege, "the most spectacular waged by New York police in a generation."


Astonishingly, Crowley, Duringer and Helen received only superficial wounds.  Kurt Heppe later told a reporter "after his gun battle with the police we picked 900 bullets out of the mattresses, the woodwork, the walls, the ceiling and the floor."
]

Smug and dapper, Francis Crowley posed in prison.  photo from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Rudolph Duringer was executed for the murder of Virginia Brannen on December 10, 1931.  Helen, who had testified against Crowley, attempted to see him on May 5, 1932, the day he was scheduled to be executed.  Still furious, he refused, adding "I hear she's running round with a cop and she wants to sell the story to a newspaper."  Francis "Two-Gun" Crowley was electrocuted in Sing Sing that night at the age of 20.

Life in No. 303 West 90th Street was much quieter after that.  In 2013 it was reconverted to a single family home.   Clarence True's original double entrance doors survive, as does the handsome wrought iron fencing.   The house's sedate facade successfully keeps secret the colorful story of a petty gangster and a sensational shoot-out which played out here.
 

The Duane Everson House - No. 131 West 71st Street

Developers John T. and James A. Farley were highly active on the Upper West Side in the 1880s and ’90, often utilizing the architectural firm of Thom & Wilson.   Interestingly, the brothers used both the professional names of “J.T. & J. A. Farley” and “Terence Farley’s Sons.”

As an example, two announcements appeared on March 29, 1890 in the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide.  One noted “Terence Farley’s Sons will erect four four-story private dwellings on the plot on 71^st street, between 9^th and 10^th avenues, adjoining St. Andrew’s Church…architects, Thom & Wilson.”  The other announced “Thom & Wilson are the architects for the seventy-story flat, to be built by J. T. & J. A. Farley, on the block bounded by the Boulevard, 10^th avenue, 69^th and 70^th streets.”

The four houses would be built on vacant land stretching from No. 131 through 137 West 71^st Street recently purchased by the brothers from St. Andrew’s Church.  The projected cost for each was $22,000 (about $590,000 in 2016).  At a time when the exterior decoration of many homes could be deemed excessive; Thom & Wilson produced four refined and restrained Renaissance Revival residences.

The eastern-most, No. 131, was separated from the church by a service walkway.  Like its neighbors, it was four stories tall above an English basement.  The brownstone of the rusticated basement continued to the parlor level.  The brownstone stoop forewent the more expected iron for solid stone railings and newels.  Three stories of red brick were trimmed in brownstone.  The architrave openings were delicately decorated with carved chains and beadwork; and between the parlor and second floor an exquisite carved frieze displayed open-hulled nuts, a pineapple and even a bursting ear of corn.

No. 131 became home to the family of well-known educator Duane Shuler Everson following his marriage to Marie Louise Fergusson in 1895.   He started his career at Columbia College in the 1860s where he was Secretary to the President, as well as a tutor in Latin and Greek Language and Literature.  In 1883 he established the Duane S. Everson’s College School for Boys, which prepared well-heeled young men for higher education.  Everson’s financial and social status was evidenced in 1892 when he was accepted into the Union League Club. 

Everson and Marie Louise would have two children, Helen and Duane R. Everson.  As he grew, young Duane seems to have coveted his father’s issue of the New-York Tribune for its weekly “For Little Men and Little Women” section.  In it puzzles and challenges were posed to the young readers who could win prizes such as a dollar or a sterling pin.

On May 29, 1904 his name was published as one of seven children who solved a puzzle.  Three years later, in May 1907 when he was 12 years old, he wrote to the newspaper:

“Dear Editor:  I received my fountain pen this morning for which I thank you very much.  I am sure I shall enjoy it, because I have always wanted one.  Thanking you again, I remain, your faithful reader, Duane R. Everson.  PS—I am writing this letter with the pen.  No. 131 West 71^st street, New York City.”  

Duane was not finished with his diligent puzzle-solving and in October that year he won a “boy’s Tribune watch.” 

A foliate panel, flanked by blank open book-like cartouches, includes a snarling lion.

Among Duane S. Everson’s students at Columbia had been William H. Sage, who graduated in 1871.  His class members had included esteemed New Yorkers Stuyvesant Fish, R. Fulton Cutting. Oscar S. Straus and George B. De Forest.  Sage spoke at the 1921 graduation exercises, the 50^th anniversary of his own.

The New York Times reported on his remarks on May 29, saying in part “The only known to be living who gave instruction to the class, Mr. Sage said, is Duane S. Everson, tutor in Greek, who is regularly at the meetings of the Union League Club, of which he is an enthusiastic member.”

Only a few months later, on Saturday, December 17, Duane Shuler Everson died in the 71^st Street house.  His funeral was held there the following Monday morning at 10:00.

Neither Duane nor Helen married and remained at No. 131 West 71^st Street with their mother.  Nearly three decades after her husband’s death, Marie Louise Everson died in the house on Sunday, February 5, 1950.  Her funeral was held in the parlor the following Tuesday afternoon. 

Unlike so many of the 19^th century homes in the neighborhood, No. 131 remained a single-family residence; the Emerson family retaining ownership until 1980.  In the meantime, the other three houses in the original Thom & Wilson row had been demolished for a rather unexciting apartment building.

Subsequent expected modernization mostly preserved the original interior details.  The house was placed on the market around 2015 for just under $10 million.  The rather lonely survivor of a more elegant period joins forces with the former St. Andrews Church to create a charming anachronism which interrupts a string of mostly mundane apartment buildings.

photographs by the author

The 1901 Wm. Colgate Mansion -- No. 5 East 82nd Street

photo by Alice Lum

At the turn of the last century Joseph A. Farley was busy building mansions.  The son of Terence Farley, a well-known builder, Joseph started his own business around 1895.  He focused on high-end residences in the Riverside Drive and Fifth Avenue neighborhoods, sparing no expense on the opulence his customers would not only expect, but demand.

In 1900 he began work on two abutting homes at Nos. 3 and 5 East 82^nd Street.  Although the pair shared the same building permit; the architects, Janes & Leo, treated the design of each separately.  The lavish Beaux Arts homes were completed a year later.  No. 3 was almost immediately sold to millionaire banker Solomon Loeb, who presented it to his daughter and son-and-law, Nina and Paul Warburg.

Nos. 3 and 5 (right) East 82nd just after completion in 1901.  The undeveloped plot next door is protected by a rather primitive, in comparison, picket fence.  photograph from the collection of the New York Public Library

No. 5 sold just as quickly.  The five-story limestone bowed façade featured Parisian-style elements like the elegant French windows with arched transoms at the second floor, the elaborate stone-and-iron balcony with carved cherubs, and the slate-covered mansard roof set between high chimneys. 

On April 5, 1901 The New York Times reported on its sale to William G. Park for $150,000 – about $3.2 million in today’s dollars.  Park had recently relocated to New York from Pittsburgh and a few days later The Times mentioned that the sale, along with Park's other recent purchases, “showed his liking for New York realty for speculative and investment, as well as residential, purposes.”

Although there was some speculation that Park may move into the new house, it would not be.  Two weeks later The Times said the purchase was “for resale and not for occupancy.”  On July 21 Park sold the house to Marion Graham Knapp, the wealthy widow of Henry C. Knapp.

photo by Alice Lum

But the socialite would not reside in her elegant new home long.  Readers of the society pages read with interest on July 12, 1904 the announcement from London that Marion was engaged to Lord Bateman of Shobdon Court.   The 48-year old William Spencer Bateman-Hanbury had been a Captain in the Second Life Guards and the marriage would bring to Marion what New York socialites coveted most—an aristocratic title.

Twelve days later the couple was married in St. George’s Church on London's Hanover Square.  Marion was given away by John R. Carter, Second Secretary of the American Embassy.

The new Lady Bateman did not hurry to sell her New York home.  Not until November 19, 1905 was the sale announced.  The buyer was William Colgate, whose grandfather’s soap and candle business had developed into the Colgate-Palmolive-Peet company.  Now 65 years old, the millionaire had retired thirteen years earlier.

Residing with Colgate in the house were his unmarried sister, Hannah, and cousin Harriet C. Abbe.  Hannah had a personal fortune of her own and she invested heavily in railroad stocks and New York real estate.  The spinster heiress owned no fewer than a dozen Manhattan properties.

Just four years after moving into the 82^nd Street mansion, Hannah died here on Sunday March 28, 1909.  The funeral services were held in the house three days later.  The aging William and his spinster cousin continued living in the house with their staff of servants.  Hannah left her brother over $1.3 million.  With no immediate relatives, the remainder of her estate went to charities, and about $62,000 to her cousins, including Harriet.

Harriet was the sister of the esteemed Dr. Robert Abbe who had revolutionized the treatment of cancer in America.  He had brought radium from the laboratory of Madam Curie to New York and introduced radium treatments to cancer patients.  When he died on March 7, 1928 the bulk of his estate went to Harriet as his sole survivor.

The two elderly cousins, William Colgate and Harriet Abbe, lived quiet lives in the 82^nd Street mansion, supporting charities but otherwise participating little in society’s glittering events.  The Great Depression had little effect on the lifestyles of the two millionaires in the hushed rooms behind the elegant French windows.

On March 7, 1932 William Colgate died at the age of 92.  His estate, which included 32 parcels of Manhattan real estate and 1,300 shares of Colgate-Palmolive-Peet stock, went mainly to charity.  Twenty-two public institutions shared nearly $2 million.  Colgate University received about 30 percent of the residuary estate.  Harriet Abbe received $500,000 in cash and “personal bequests” worth $8,516.  Her share of the estate would equal about $7 million today.

At the time of his death the 82^nd Street house was valued at $135,000.  How long Harriet remained in the house is unclear; however The New York Times would later say it was “occupied by [Colgate’s] family up to the time of his death.”

On May 15, 1941 the newspaper reported that the house, “long the residence of William Colgate” was sold by the Central Hanover Bank and Trust.  “The new owner will remodel the mansion into ten small suites, retaining many of the interesting features of the structure, including a recreation room for the tenants.”

Among the “interesting features” were “fireplaces of rare marble, a library paneled in mahogany, an oak-paneled recreation room in the basement, an automatic elevator and a limestone façade.”  Architect James E. Casale was commissioned to execute the conversion which resulted in two spacious apartments per floor.

The caliber of tenants in the newly-renovated apartments was, expectedly, high.  So no one would suspect that the 67-year old stamp dealer, John Von Vorst, would bring unwanted publicity to the address.  But he did.

The German-born Vorst married wealthy Mathilda Grameis of No. 940 Park Avenue on March 8, 1943 and the newlyweds moved into the 82^nd Street house.  Vorst embellished his occupation a bit, telling his bride that he was a diplomatic agent of the Argentine Government.

A more serious problem than fibbing about his profession, however, was that Vorst (who also went by the names Frederick Von Stolberg and John Lorenz Von Vorst) was already married.  Three times.

On February 28, 1936 Louise Borho of No 150 West 87^th Street had married Vorst, who had been in the country since 1914.   When Louise discovered his philandering, she went to the police.  An investigation revealed that when he came to America he left behind a German wife.   Then he married Leda Saynisch.  Then came Louise Borho and finally Mathilda Grameis.

On June 4, 1943 John Von Vorst stood before a judge in General Sessions with three of his four wives present.   Louise and Mathilda “sat together in court, enjoying von Vorst’s discomfiture,” said The Times.  Leda was more forgiving.  The newspaper said she “tearfully pleaded he be freed on a suspended sentence ‘because I’ll be lonely without him.’”

Judge John J. Sullivan was unmoved by Leda’s tears.  Von Vorst was sentenced to up to three years in the penitentiary.  As the polygamist was led out of the courtroom, the judge agreed to initiate annulment proceedings “started by the two smiling wives” immediately.

The mansion underwent another conversion in 1989 resulting in medical offices in the basement and first floor, one apartment each on the second and third floors, and a lavish duplex above.  None of the interior alterations significantly altered the wonderful Beaux Arts façade.  The Colgate mansion remains an elegant relic of the Belle Epoque in New York.