The 1886 353 and 355 West 123rd Street

 

In May 1885, architect M. Louis Ungrich began sketching out "ten three-story and basement brick and stone private dwellings" on West 123rd Street between Morningside and Manhattan Avenues for developers Frank Tilford and F. K. Keller.  Ungrich designed the row as alternating, five mirror-image pairs--A-B, C-D, A-B, C-D, and A-B.  

Among the A and B models were 353 and 355 West 123rd Street.  The 16-foot wide homes were clad in red brick and trimmed in brownstone above the stone-faced basement level.  The iron areaway fencing and stoop railings included light-hearted squiggly spindles, typical of the Queen Anne style.  A prominent bandcourse and an intermediate cornice defined the stories.  The two houses shared an elaborate terra cotta panel of swirling vines around a shell at the third floor, and a terra cotta rondel of a flower backed by a sunburst decorated each gable.

On November 24, 1886, Tilford & Keller sold 353 West 123rd Street to real estate operator John W. Hutchinson for $15,000--about $500,000 in 2025.  Days after the family moved in, a near disaster occurred.

On December 7, The New York Times reported, "Fire broke out at 4:30 o'clock yesterday morning in the basement of No. 353 West One Hundred and Twenty-third street...occupied by J. W. Hutchinson and routed the family out."  Hutchinson estimated the damage at about $20,000 in today's money.

The Hutchinsons' residency was short lived.  In May 1889, they sold the house to banker Cornelius Brinkman Outcalt and his wife, the former Irene Augusta Curtis, for $14,250.  The couple had three children, Cornelius Jr., Louis Clark, and John C.--aged 18, 15 and 7 years old, respectively, at the time.  

(The couple had earlier suffered intense grief.  Their first child, Marie Cecilia, died at the age of five in May 1873.  Then, in unspeakable tragedy, Paul Curtis and Gussie Whitney died on October 13 and October 25, 1884.  They were seven and four years old.)

Cornelius B. Outcalt was born on April 21, 1851.  On May 25, 1861, at the outbreak of the Civil War, he enlisted in the 7th Regiment, New York State Militia, listing his age at 21.  How an officer could mistake a ten-year-old for an adult is puzzling, but Outcalt was enlisted as a private and served for 30 days.  

When he and the family moved into the West 123rd Street house, he was the cashier of the National Exchange Bank, but he shortly afterward retired.  He became the center of a bizarre mystery in 1895.

On February 21, Outcalt attended a dinner hosted by the newspaper The Fourth Estate.  While there, he met William Sammons, the brother of the newspaper's editor, who was described by the New York Herald as "something of a politician."  Outcalt did not return home that evening.  The Sun reported, "They [i.e., Outcalt and Sammons] drank a great deal of wine, and the next day both were missing."

Four days later, a message was telephoned to a drugstore near the Outcalt house informing the family that Cornelius was "at the Orawaupum Hotel, in White Plains, with a stranger," as reported by the New York Herald.  The Sun said that Irene and Cornelius, Jr. traveled there with Detective Brock, a friend of the family.

They found Outcalt, disoriented, in one room of the hotel.  The Sun said he "had the appearance of being sick and dazed."  Sammons was asleep in the adjoining room.  When Brock arrested him, Sammons protested that he would not be arrested.  "But you are arrested," he was told.

The New York Herald reported, "White Plains was in a great excitement over the arrest.  It was reported that Simmins [sic] had been drugging his companion and that a deep mystery was about to be unveiled."  Back home, on February 26, a reporter from The Sun visited the Outcalt house.  The journalist wrote, "He was about to explain the matter when his wife interfered, and prevented him from saying."  Sammons was later acquitted and the details of the supposed kidnapping were never revealed.

The following year, on February 4, 1896, Irene Augusta Outcalt died in the house.  In reporting her death, one newspaper commented, "In her early days, Mrs. Outcalt was one of the belles of metropolitan society."  In March 1898, Cornelius, Jr. sold the house to Thomas Daniels.

In the meantime, John Sullivan and his wife, the former Elizabeth A. Mars, lived next door.  John died at 355 West 123rd Street on May 19, 1896 at the age of 79.  The New York Herald said his death came "after a lingering illness, which he bore with Christian fortitude."  Following his funeral in the parlor, a solemn requiem mass was held for him at the Church of St. Joseph at the corner of Columbus Avenue and 125th Street.

Elizabeth A. Sullivan died three years later, on April 21, 1899.  The house was sold to Nathan Pollock, a clothing manufacturer.  He declared bankruptcy on January 28, 1901, after which the house was operated as a boarding house.  Among the residents in 1904 was a piano teacher, who advertised, "Teacher of piano desires pupils; Dr. Mason's system of touch and technique; terms moderate.  Studio 355 West 123d st."

Edward S. Root lived in the house as early as 1908.  Born in 1857, he was Fire Chief of the 24th Battalion and the head of E. Root & Co., "electrical subway engineers and contractors."

By then, 353 West 123rd Street was a rooming house.  During the 1907-08 academic year, three students attending the Jewish Theological Seminary of America roomed here, as well as did Rabbi Joseph Hevesh, a graduate of the seminary.

An interesting roomer in 353 West 123rd Street was Rev. Francis Le Baron.  Born in Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1824, he came from "a family which traces its ancestry to the first Francis Le Baron, who came to New England among the earliest settlers," according to The Sun.  After serving as a Unitarian clergyman, "he left the church when he was 30 years old to engage in literature," said the newspaper.  Among his works were A Discourse on the Death of Abraham Lincoln, Atheism Among the People, and The Poet and His Song.  Among his celebrated friends were Oliver Wendell Holmes, James Russell Lowell, Ralph Waldo Emerson, sculptor Daniel C. French, and Edward Everett Hale.

On the morning of February 16, 1911, well after the time that Le Baron normally got up, someone checked to see if the 87-year-old was alright.  He had died during the night.  The Sun reported, "Mr. Le Baron lost his fortune some years ago.  His friends in New York are arranging for the removal of his body to Boston, where it will be cremated."

Later that year, an advertisement in the New York Evening Telegram advertised 353 West 123rd Street for rent.  "Furnished 11 room house, exceptionally clean; good neighborhood, $75 rent; account sickness."  The monthly rent would translate to about $2,480 today.

The roomers in both houses were still professional.  Among those living at 355 in 1917 was Dr. Otto Lorenzi.  A graduate of Sibley College of Cornell University, he was an engineer with the Combustion Engineering Corporation.  And living next door was Fernando Staud Ximenes, who was on the interpreting staff of American Institute of International Law.

In 1941, the paneled outer and inner entrance doors were intact in both houses.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Both buildings continued to be rooming houses through mid-century.  A renovation to 355 in 1966 resulted in one apartment in the parlor level, with furnished rooms throughout the rest of the building.  It was most likely during that remodeling that the brick was painted (ironically enough, brick red) and the brownstone details at the parlor level painted white.

No. 353 was converted into a two-family residence in 1983, with duplex apartments on the basement and parlor levels, and second and third floors.  

photographs by the author

The 1886 Mary Howe Nolen House - 349 West 123rd Street

 

Architect M. Louis Ungrich was busy in the spring of 1885.  On May 30, the Record & Guide reported that he was "preparing the sketches" for six apartment buildings for Henry Muhlker, ten rowhouses for F. K. Keller and Frank Tilford, and a tenement for Augustus Eichele.  

The houses for Keller and Tilford, on the north side of West 123rd Street between Morningside Avenue and Manhattan Avenue, were intended for middle-class residents.  Just 16-feet-wide, they were completed in 1886.  Three stories tall above stone basements, they were faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta.  Ungrich designed the Queen Anne-style homes in five mirror-image pairs in an A-B-C-D-A-B-C-D-A-B configuration.

Among the D models was 349 West 123rd Street.  Slightly more understated than the A and B models, Ungrich gave it a splash of Renaissance Revival with terra cotta lintels over the doorway and parlor window.  The parlor level openings sat within quoined stone frames.  Interestingly, the proportions of the window nearly matched that of the doorway and the two lintels were nearly identical.  The openings of the second and third floors shared single stone lintels, and a sloped shingled roof covered the attic level.

Keller and Tilford initially leased 349 West 123rd Street.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on March 29, 1887, offered: 

Handsome New House, 349 West 123d St., near Morningside Park, decorated, ten rooms and bath; three years' lease.

The new occupants seem to have been adherents of the Temperance movement.  The restriction of alcohol in the household may have been too much to bear for their cook.  The well-trained culinarian was specific in looking for a new position.  On February 1, 1888 she advertised in The New York Times:

$40--Cook; Professional from Ems. (Imperial Medal of Merit); in first-class family; no children; no abstainers.  Call at 349 West 123d-st.

The salary she required (presumably monthly) would translate to about $1,360 in 2025.

The house and the one next door at 351 were sold in May 1890 to Annie B. Wakefield.  She resold No. 349 four months later to Mariam Howe Nolen, the widow of George H. Nolen.  She had three children, George Jr., Spencer, and Mary Howe.  

Mariam Nolen worked as what today would be called a real estate agent.  She took in a boarder to augment finances.  Living with the family in 1894 was John L. Florence, a commissioner of deeds.  (The civil service position was similar to today's notary public.)

Spencer Nolen died at the age of 28 on March 21, 1896.  His funeral was held in the house three days later.

It was almost assuredly through Mariam's real estate work that she became acquainted with "Mrs. D. H. Nellis, known as Mrs. Blakely" as described by The Sun.  Mrs. Blakely was a member of the Real Estate Exchange and she rented houses owned by W. E. D. Stokes and collected his rents.  On February 4, 1898, she appeared in court to answer a complaint from the owner of a livery stable for an outstanding bill of $75.  During the proceedings it was revealed that she had several other outstanding financial obligations.  The Sun quoted her testimony:

My mother lent me $1,500, which I used for personal expenses.  I borrowed $900 from Mrs. Nolan [sic] of 349 West 123d street; $400 from Mr. F. Barnes, a stock broker, last October; $400 from Mrs. Duke of 255 West Seventy-second street.  I used all for expenses.

The amount Mariam Nolen loaned her would translate to about $35,100 today.  Whether she ever recouped the loan is unclear.

Sarah Hortense Herrington boarded with the Nolen family at the time.  She died on May 8, 1898 and her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

By then, Mary Howe Nolen was a force among the kindergarten movement.  A graduate of Hunter College, she worked with the Department of Education overseeing kindergarten classes.  Her diplomatic but stern oversight was reflected in a letter the 28-year-old wrote to a teacher, Adele Miln, in 1899, that said:

Please be prepared next Wednesday morning to show the teachers how you adapted "Marching to Jerusalem" to the playground without chairs.  You had chalk circles on the floor.  I shall have to trouble you to bring your own chalk and any other portable equipment necessary.  Also please bring a list of playground games that are especially successful with small boys.  If you do not err, yours is a boys' playground so you will have need to plan these carefully for yourself.  I do not want to put any extra labor upon you, but you are always helpful and willing, so don't fail me.

In 1902, Mariam transferred title of 349 West 123rd Street to Mary.  She held the title of Supervisor of Kindergarten at the time.

The Nolens continued to take in a boarder.  In 1902 Andrew J. Smith lived here, and in 1912 Ernest A. Needham boarded with the family.  Needham was a retired commission merchant and in failing health.  

On the night of September 3, 1912, he walked into the dining room and poured carbolic acid into a glass and drank it.  The act was witnessed by Mariam Nolan, who "ran to the street and summoned policeman Singer," as reported by The Sun.  Singer "found Mr. Needham on a couch in the dining room."  He was transported to the J. Hood Wright Hospital where he was deemed to be "in a serious condition."  It was so serious, in fact, that a priest was called.  Mariam told reporters, "He has been in poor health and seemed much discouraged about it."

Ernest A. Needham survived the attempt.  He died in the house a year later, on November 12, 1913.  The New York Times mentioned, "funeral private."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

There would be two other funerals in the parlor in rapid succession.  Three months later, on January 22, 1914, George H. Nolen died; and the following year, on June 25, 1915, Mariam Howe Nolen died.  Her funeral was held in the house on June 27. 

By the post-World War I years, Mary Howe Nolen was president of the Parents' Kindergarten Association of the Model School.  The group was founded in 1889 "to establish some model kindergartens in districts where the children were in greatest need of them," as explained by The Outlook in 1912.  Mary would head that organization into the mid-1920s.

Mary Howe Nolen died on March 25, 1948 at the age of 77.  

The Nolen house became home to Alonzo B. Morris, a real estate operator.  By the second half of the 20th century, it had been converted to a two-family home and it continues as such today.

Although the stone and terra cotta have been painted, the exterior of the Nolen house is virtually intact.  And, somewhat surprisingly, the original interior shutters still hang in the upper floor windows.

photographs by the author