The Philip Rhinelander House - 16 East 55th Street

On April 15, 1904 the American Carbonator and American Bottler reported that "Max Schaefer, the oldest lager beer brewer in the United States, died at his residence, 16 East Fifty-fifth street, [on March 23rd] in his 85th year, and though possessed of wonderful vitality was unable to survive an attack of pneumonia, which developed on the previous Sunday."  The house in which the wealthy brewer died sat between Fifth and Madison Avenues, steps away from the elegant St. Regis Hotel still under construction.

Schaefer's son, Rudolph, sold the four-story house in December that year to developer Thomas J. McLaughlin for $73,000.  Within two months architect Clement B. Brun had filed plans for a modern "five and six-story" residence on the site.  The $30,000 construction costs brought the total outlay for McLaughlin to $3 million in today's money.

The structure was completed late in 1906.  Brun had created a red brick neo-Federal residence trimmed in limestone.  The stone-faced first floor sat above a short stoop flanked by hefty limestone newels.  An iron-railed balcony fronting two sets of French doors stretched the width of the house at the second floor.  The fifth floor took the form of a mansard roof with two stone dormers above the substantial stone cornice.  A partial sixth floor sat back, unseen from the street to preserve the proportions of the house.

An advertisement in the New York Evening Post on January 26, 1907 described a "New modern English basement house" with "Otis elevator."  The advertisement assured potential buyers that the St. Regis Hotel would be their only possible commercial neighbor:  "Restricted private house location in front, rear and sides."

No. 16 became home to Philip Jacob Rhinelander and his family.   The Rhinelanders were one of the oldest and wealthiest families in New York.  Philip's father, William, had grown up in the refined brick and marble mansion at No. 14 Washington Square and the family could trace its American roots to Philip J. Rhinelander who arrived in 1689.

Philip and his wife, the former Adelaide Kip, had four children, 11-year old Philip Kip, 9-year old Thomas Jackson Oakley, 7-year old Adelaide, and Leonard Kip, who was just 4.   The couple's first child, Isaac Leonard Kip Rhinelander, died in infancy in 1895.

Adelaide's pedigree was no less impressive than that of her husband.  She was the daughter of Dr. Isaac Lewis Kip and Cornelia Brady Kip and their first ancestor in America was Hendrick Hendricksen de Kype, who arrived in New Amsterdam around 1637.  Her grandfather, William V. Brady had been elected mayor of New York in 1847.

No. 16 (with the American flag) sat within a row of refined residences.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The family's summer home was in fashionable Tuxedo Lake, New York.  It was there on September 10, 1915 that an unspeakable tragedy occurred.  Adelaide was in her dressing room at around 1:00 that afternoon preparing to go out.  Her maid had just left the room.  The New York Times reported "Mrs. Rhinelander, wearing a loose-fitting house gown, was engaged in dressing her hair.  For this purpose she lighted the small spirit lamp that stood upon the dresser beside her."

The maid heard screams and rushed back.  Before she reached the room the screams had stopped.  The lamp had exploded, covering Adelaide with burning fuel.  The maid "found Mrs. Rhinelander unconscious, with her hair burned off and her clothing blackened by fire."  She had apparently first tried to tear her gown off, then wrapped herself in the bedspread to extinguish the flames.

Local physicians and the Rhinelander family doctor from New York City were summoned.  They worked over Adelaide throughout the night, but she died just after 1:00 on the morning of September 11.

Although he retained possession of the 55th Street house, Philip Rhinelander never returned following his wife's death.  He leased it within a few weeks to Mrs. John W. Blodgett; the following season he rented it to Harriet Alexander (who had grown up in the massive mansion at No. 4 West 58th Street, next door to Cornelius and Alice Vanderbilt).  Following her marriage to Winthrop Aldrich, head of Chase National Bank, that year the couple remained through 1917.  In 1918 it was home to Marshall Field, of Chicago, and his wife.

By then the neighborhood around No. 16 was growing increasingly commercial.  on June 28, 1919 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide advised that Rhinelander had leased the house to society milliner and dressmaker Peggy Hoyt.  

The article noted "its interior is done in French Renaissance, representing the best efforts of the late Stanford White, the marble staircase and the marble mantel in the foyer being particularly notable examples."  While the writer described the style accurately, it is doubtful that Stanford White worked on another architect's interiors at the height of his career; not to mention the fact that he died in June 1906 while the house was still under construction.

A Peggy Hoyt advertisement featured a sketch showing the original stoop and first floor appearance.

Peggy Hoyt worked with the original domestic configuration of the house for three years.  Then, in March 1922 Philip Rhinelander hired architect J. H. O'Brien to extend the building to the rear, remove walls and update the plumbing.

Peggy Hoyt posed for this drawing of her wearing one of her signature hats in 1922.  Women's Home Companion, September 1922 (copyright expired)

Peggy Hoyt was, in fact, Mrs. Aubrey L. Eads.  On February 18, 1922 the Watertown Daily Times said "She is a former society girl, who, when she had to earn her living in the business world, decided to attempt millinery designing.  Within two years the best dressed women in New York were buying their hats from Peggy Hoyt instead of from Paris.  Last season Mrs. Hoyt began to design costumes as well, and her success has already made her the supreme arbiter of American fashion."

The Peggy Hoyt showrooms retained much of the Rhinelander interiors--including the sweeping marble staircase.  from the collection of the Henry Ford Museum

Peggy Hoyt died in 1937 but her husband continued running the business; at least for a while.  He quickly made a decision which raised eyebrows.  On September 22 that year The Herald Statesman reported that he had hired notorious playboy Tommy Manville at the staggering salary of $175,000 per month by today's standards.  "The merry asbestos heir, who has millions of his own, said he was glad to get the job because the firm employed 36 models," said the article.

Eads put a positive spin on the appointment.  "Mr. Manville wants to go into a woman's business and he starts with us Monday...He is going to sell, do press agent work and act as a contact man.  He is really a swell egg."

Before very long Peggy Hoyt, Inc. was no more.  After submitting fake accounts for the company to the Madison Industrial Corporation and receiving $17,000 in fraudulent loans, the 47-year old Eads skipped town in 1940.  He was found in Hollywood and brought back to New York for trial.   He pleaded guilty on March 6, 1941.

When Eads bolted, the Rhinelander estate sold No. 16 to Prince and Princess Gourielli in the fall of 1940.  The New York Times noted on September 21, "The buyers will occupy the property after remodeling work is carried out."

The renovations were completed the following year and The New York Sun reported "An establishment where men may improve their looks--the Old World Apothecary Shop--opened in town today, but if you think it's designed for sissies you're mistaken."  Princess Gourielli, who was also known as Helena Rubenstein, explained,"There's a difference between beautifying men and grooming them.  We're going to groom them, scientifically."

The couple catered to women as well.  Their cosmetics included "herbal compounds of the ancient apothecaries and new pharmaceutical formulas."  Men were offered "lotion for rough hands, after-shaving talcum and a product to keep the hair in place."

The article noted "The three floor establishment at 16 East 55th street includes a main floor, a reproduction of a white marble-floored apothecary shop (complete with those globes of colored water so dear to all old-time drug stores) and a gift shop dominated by a display of the Princess's collection of early American glassware which is not for sale.  The men's scalp and hair clinic and the Men's Shop are on the second floor."

The "Old World Apothecary Shop" still retained the Rhinelander ceilings and plasterwork.  photograph by Gottscho-Schleisner, Inc. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The New York Times did not mention Prince Gourielli in reporting on the opening of "Mme. Helena Rubinstein's Old World apothecary shop" on September 21.  "The shop occupies the entire building on the site and has been decorated with works of art including American and Mexican primitive portraits, collections of glassware and other objects d'art."  The opening preview celebration included a benefit dinner.  "Five hundred persons are expected to attend the supper party," said The Times.

As apparel items were added to the offerings, the store became known as The House of Gourielli.  The Sun, May 16, 1946,

In 1947 the Gourellis leased the building to fashion designer Oleg Cassini.  He opened with a fashion show on September 16 that year.  The Times described the event saying "Emphasis was placed on the glamorous and picturesque in a collection of custom evening and cocktail fashions...This designer, who recently returned from Hollywood, used heavy satins in combinations of rich colors."  It was the first of many fashion shows to come in the Cassini salon over the next few years.

Then, in 1954 the Gourellis were back.  On November 16 The New York Times announced "A masculine version of that female sanctum, the beauty shop, will open today.  Called the Gourielli Men's Shop, it is behind a discreet town house facade at 16 East Fifty-fifth Street."

The store was more than a grooming spot, however, and offered clothing as well.  The newspaper said the apparel "is conservative, strongly influenced by Savile Row with a trend to the Edwardian style, with the exception of the 'bright but not loud' sports wear."

It was a male-only domain.  "Finished with a black and white marble floor and counters in the Roman bath tradition, the entrance lobby to the shop is the only room that women will be permitted to enter," said The Times article.

The four-chair barber shop area resembled a men's club with thick carpets, a ticker-tape machine, plus "an oxygen machine, to which men can resort for a pick-me-up, said to alleviate a hang-0ver."  

Shopping at Gourielli's was not an inexpensive venture.  In the summer of 1955 striped broadcloth shorts went for $12.50--about $117 today.

Gourielli's was replaced the following year by Richard Cheatham's "salon for gentlemen," which opened on December 3.   The New York Times said "It looks like a men's club" and like its predecessor, offered both apparel and grooming services.  Upstairs was a salon "where a man can get a haircut, shoeshine, steam bath, manicure or electric massage."

A press preview marked the opening of "a luxurious salon" in the house on January 3, 1961.  Michel Kazan had opened his first salon in Paris in 1934.  By now he was well-known among beauty editors and Manhattan's socially elite.

The Times said "Michel Kazan's new salon is a six-story house with magnificent decor that was supervised by Gene Moore."  Moore had left much of the Rhinelander interiors intact, as revealed in opening day photographs.

On April 22, 2017 the Anton Kern Gallery opened in the somewhat miraculously-surviving former mansion.   While the exterior of the Rhinelander house is remarkably intact, the interiors were less fortunate.

photographs by the author

The John Junius Morgan House - 64 East 77th Street

Around 1877 a row of skinny houses was erected on the southern side of East 77th Street, for (it seems) developer James. V. S. Woolley.  They were located just east of the soot-belching trains of Fourth Avenue (later Park Avenue) which would not be lowered below ground for years.  The residences, which were a mere 12-feet, 6-inches wide, were literally considered to be on the wrong side of the tracks.  Yet at four stories tall they were intended for upper-middle class families.  Faced in brownstone they were most likely designed in the pervasive Italianate style.

No. 64 became home to the Robert J. Clyde family.  Clyde and his wife, Julia, had a daughter, also named Julia.  He was perhaps best known for his military involvements.  He was a lieutenant in "The First Brigade of the Boys in Blue" which was made up of the First, Second, and Third Regiments of the New York Reserves.  They were Black regiments but their officers, like Clyde, were all white.

The difficulties of living in a still-developing neighborhood taxed Clyde's patience in the spring of 1881.  He fired off an indignant letter to Alderman Perley on March 11 that read:

Won't you use your utmost endeavors to have a crosswalk laid at Seventy-seventh street and Fourth avenue, both, crossing Fourth avenue; the mud is at least eight to twelve inches deep.  You promised all last year to have this done, but did not do it; please hurry it through.
                         
By 1888 Martin Logan lived in the house.  That year he obtained a patent for his improved "self-draining floor for stalls."  His design placed a recess in the center of the horse stalls fitted with wooden, detachable slats.  The waste flushed out in the cleaning of the stalls ran directly into a covered gutter that ran along the front.

Scientific American, Architects and Builders Edition, November 1888 (copyright expired)

No. 64 was sold in October of 1903 to Josephine Lazarus.  She contracted architect George A. Freeman to update the house.  The significant project, which included adding indoor plumbing, took more than a year to complete.

Josephine sold the updated residence in April 1908 to Mary Tooker Best, the widow of Army Colonel Clermont Livingston Best.  Mary's purchase of No. 64 was, perhaps, prompted by her daughter, Annie Livingston Best's upcoming marriage to Elizur Yale Smith.  

Nearly two decades earlier, when Mary and Clermont were married in Mary's Newport "cottage" on Bellevue Avenue on September 29, 1884, The New York Times raised an eyebrow at the lop-sided social match.  It entitled the announcement "Col. Best Secures A Bride Worth a Million," and ended the article saying "Col. Best is a native of New-York and a graduate of West Point.  The bride is about 33 years of age, and is worth $1,000,000 at least in her own right."  (The groom was, incidentally, 27 years older than his bride.)

Col. Best died on April 7, 1897 at the age of 73.  Annie was 10 years old at the time.  Mary sent her to France to be educated.  By the time of her debut into society in 1905 she was an accomplished pianist--so much so that Mrs. William Astor pointed her out for "special attention" at her mid-season ball.

Now the Bests moved into No. 64 East 77th Street and Annie's wedding took place seven months later, in November 1908.  But the mother and daughter would soon share the house again.  Annie left Elizur Yale Smith after a few months.

Following her divorce, Annie got permission to resume her maiden name, but the appellation "Mrs." remained.   Her engagement to Arthur Carroll was announced on June 10, 1910.

The wedding took place in the 77th Street house on September 10.  The following day The Sun explained "It was intended to have the wedding in Newport, where Mrs. Best has had a cottage during the past summer.  It was found impossible however, for Mrs. Best to find quarters for all the guests she expected to invite."  The article added "Mrs. Annie Best is a very fair blond with a delicate complexion."

The New York Herald noted "the house was simply decorated with palms, ferns and cut flowers...After the ceremony there was a small reception and a luncheon."  The article mentioned that after their "short wedding trip" the couple would "make their home in this city."  They moved in with Mary in No. 64.

Mary ceded the social spotlight to her daughter, who entertained often and lavishly.  An amusing diversion among society women in the early years of the 20th century was the recreation of famous paintings by dressing in costume and posing before appropriate backdrops within an enormous frame.   Annie held what the Amsterdam Evening Recorder called "a picturesque carnival of antics" at No. 64 on January 30, 1912.

"Famous women stepped from portraits by old masters and joined grand dames of the Colonial period in patches and powdered hair, Turkish noblemen and gypsies, German peasants, fanciful characters, French students and even the typical Parisian apache.  It was as colorful a company as has gathered in any house in New York this winter, although it numbered less than a hundred all told."  

Annie dressed as the Goddess of Night in black chiffon gown glittering with gold and silver stars.  Arthur wore the costume of a Turkish nobleman "which his grandfather had brought from the Orient complete in all its details."  Mr. and Mrs. Irving Brokaw arrived as "Spaniards of the sixteenth century."  Other guests included the Reginald C. Vanderbilts, the Dudley Olcotts, James Deering and his wife, and society architect Francis L. V. Hoppin and his wife.

Later that year, just days before leaving the Newport cottage, the family faced near tragedy.  Mary had already sent most of the servants back to New York, along with much of the silverware.  On the night of September 24 Annie smelled smoke and rushed through the hallways to awaken the others.   She went into hero mode as the blaze worsened.

The New York Times reported "She rushed to her mother's room and carried her to safety.  She then got an old colored cook out of the burning house."  Annie rushed back to her own room, threw cash and jewelry into a bag and tossed it out the window before escaping.  (The bag was never found.)  The mansion with its expensive furnishings, tapestries and artwork was completely destroyed.

Annie's entertainments always included the highest echelons of society, as well as visiting European titles.  She gave a reception in the 77th Street house on the afternoon of December 18, 1913 for Condessa del Sera, for instance, and a month later, on January 14, 1914, The New York Herald reported "bringing together more than a hundred of her friends, Mrs. Arthur Carroll gave a dinner and dance last night at her house, No. 64 East Seventy-seventh street, for Count and Condessa Emllio del Sera."

By 1916 Mary had transferred the title to No. 64 to Annie.  On December 3, 1917 The Evening Post reported that she had leased the house to Charles Astor Bristed and his wife, the former Grace Ashbury.  A nephew of John Jacob Astor and had inherited the millionaire's former country estate, Hell Gate, on the Upper East Side.  He demolished the Astor mansion just after the Civil War and was responsible for laying out 88th and 89th Streets on the former estate.

Because of the war in Europe Grace and her daughters M. Symphorosa and Grace Astor moved into the rented house without Charles.  On January 27, 1918 The Sun reported "Mrs. Charles Astor Bristen and the Misses Bristed have left Lenox and are at 64 East Seventy-seventh street.  Mr. Bristed is with the United States forces in France."

Grace was active in the war effort, most notably the Junior Book Committee which gathered new and used books to send to the front.  She pleaded in an article in April 1918 "There are hundreds of thousands of books lying idle here at home doing no one any good.  Let's give them to our men' it's a way of doing our bit."  The Sun advised "books old and new may be sent to the Junior Book Committee's president, Miss Grace Astor Bristed, at 64 East Seventy-seventh street."

On June 10, 1919 the New-York Tribune reported that Sherman Post Haight had purchased No. 64.  It came at the breaking point in Annie's marriage to Arthur Carroll.

They divorced and on January 21, 1920 Annie married William Sackett Duel.  Her new husband had two sons, 15-year old William, Jr. and 13-year old Robert Ensor.  The family, including Mary, moved to the Duell estate, Hillcroft, in Meadowbrook, Pennsylvania.

The family sold Hillcroft in 1923 and returned to New York--surprisingly back to East 77th Street.  On May 24, 1923 The New York Times reported "Mrs. Mary Tooker Best...died of heart disease yesterday at the home of her son-in-law, W. Sackett Duell, 64 East Seventy-seventh Street."

Annie's luck with marriage was not good.  She divorced Duell on February 15, 1925 and would go on to have two more husbands.  

That year William Card Moore, described by The New York Times as a "wealthy New York broker and Yale graduate," purchased No. 64.  He and his wife, Virginia, hired the architectural firm of Treanor & Fatio to give the vintage home a total makeover.  

The stoop was removed and the entrance moved slightly below street level.   The brownstone facade was stripped off to be replaced by two stories of red brick.  A steep, two-story mansard sat back, providing outdoor space.

It does not appear that the Moores ever lived in the house, but leased it to well-do-to tenants.  Immediately after the renovations were completed it was rented to William MacNeil Rodewald, and the following year was sold to Henry J. Simonson, president of the United States Bond & Mortgage Corporation, and his wife Helen.  They paid the Moores $68,000 for the house, approximately $965,000 today.

And then in May 1931 Simonson sold No. 64 to John Junius Morgan.  He was the only child of Juliet Pierpont Morgan and the Rev. John B. Morgan.  Juliet was the sister of financier J. Pierpont Morgan (her marriage to someone with the same surname eliminated the nuisance of changing her stationery and calling cards).  Upon his mother's death in 1923 Morgan had inherited her entire estate.

By the time John Junius Morgan moved in, the skinny house was hemmed in by soaring apartment buildings.  via NYC Department of Records & Information Services

Morgan shared the house by the mid-1940's with Gertrude Bigelow, the widow of wealthy real estate man Talmon Bigelow.  He had committed suicide in 1927 at the age of 29; officials attributing his action to "shell shock" from World War I--what today we would call post traumatic stress disorder.

It seems that Gertrude's adult son also lived in the house.  On January 16, 1945 The New York Sun's society page featured a photo of a handsome couple with the caption "Miss Dale Thompson...in the Wedgwood Room of the Waldorf-Astoria with Talmon Bigelow, son of Mrs. Talmon Bigelow of 64 East 77th Street."

The exact relationship between John and Gertrude is unclear.  Following his death at his country estate in West Chilington, Sussex, England on March 16, 1949, The New York Times reported "To Gertrude J. Bigelow of 64 East Seventy-seventh Street, he bequeathed the use of his house at that address for a period of five years, without rent or other charges."

Perhaps because of its narrow proportions, the house was never divided into apartments.  In 2008 plans were filed for "interior demolition" of the single-family house.  Today the Luxembourg & Dayan Gallery discreetly operates from the home.

photographs by the author

The Daniel Hoagland Carpenter House - 39 Bethune Street

Even before her marriage to Divie Bethune, Joanna Graham had devoted her life to charitable works.  With financial help from her husband, she founded institutions like the Society for the Relief of Poor Widows with Small Children, the Infant School Society and the Society for the Promotion of Industry Among the Poor.  When she ceded land in Greenwich Village for a street, it was named in her honor, Bethune Street.

In 1846 a three-story, brick faced house was erected at No. 39 Bethune Street.  Three bays wide, the Greek Revival style residence sat above a shallow porch.  A horsewalk--or narrow passage to the side--led to the rear yard where a second structure was located.

It was the picture frame factory of John Sigler (also spelled Siegler in some documents) before long.  On September 29, 1853 The New York Herald reported that "a fire broke out in the shop of Mr. John Sigler, at the rear of No. 39 Bethune street."  The New York Times added "The flames were discovered by the workmen just as they were quitting work and, with the assistance of two or three fire companies, the fire was extinguished before doing much damage to the building.  The loss on the stock of Mr. Siegler is estimated at $360."  The loss would equal more than $12,000 today.

Daniel Hoagland Carpenter was married to Hester Van Zile in 1853.  Shortly afterward they moved into No. 39.  The couple would have five children. 

Carpenter's American roots stretched back to colonial times.  The New York Times later remarked "An ancestor, William Carpenter, was with Roger Williams in the founding of the Providence colony, and he, with Alice Carpenter Bradford, wife of Gov. Bradford of Massachusetts, and others, purchased land from the Indians at what is now Oyster Bay, L. I. in 1677."  

Daniel Carpenter and his partner I. H. Wilson, now operated their lumber business and steam mill, D. H. Carpenter & Co., in the rear factory building.  Lumber from Carpenter's establishment would be used in major structures like the Fifth Avenue Hotel and the Brick Presbyterian Church.


Daniel Carpenter was active in community affairs.  And he, as well, seems to have had little patience for saloons which operated in the neighborhood on Sundays.  He made a complaint against Isaac B. Smith in the summer of 1854 resulting on a raid.  Smith, his bartender, and his customers were arrested--nine persons in all--and each fined $2.50, around $77.50 today.

On September 26, 1860 Carpenter and I. H. Wilson announced the dissolution of their partnership.  The New York Evening Express noted "D. H. Carpenter will continue the business at 39 Bethune Street."  

The rear building was large enough for Carpenter to rent space.  On April 17, 1863 an advertisement in The New York Herald offered "A light, high ceiling room, fifty by twenty feet, to let cheap, with steam power.  A wood worker preferred.  Inquire of D. H.Carpenter, 39 Bethune street, New York."  That same year, on July 24, he advertised "Cabinet Maker Wanted--This morning apply to D. H. Carpenter, 39 Bethune st., N.Y."

In 1867 Carpenter purchased a home in Maplewood, New Jersey, initially, it seems, as a summer house.  The family was still living on Bethune Street in 1869 when 15-year old Marion entered the June Introductory Class of the City University of New York.  But by 1875, although he still ran his mill from the rear factory, Carpenter had moved his family permanently to Maplewood.

The main house was altered for a packing box factory run by James Fagan and A. W. Loomis.  On June 1 John McLellan and his wife, Euphemia, purchased the property for $9,500, just over $250,000 today.  Within the year they hired architect James E. Ware to renovate the house.  His plans, filed on January 29, 1886 read "factory building, altered for tenement." 

When Gustavus Isaacs purchased the property at auction in March 1899 the Real Estate Record & Guide described it as a "3-story brick tenement."  At the same auction he purchased the two-story tenement at No. 747 Washington Street.  Exactly ten years later he sold the properties to the newly-organized  Zurich Silk Finishing Company, which simultaneously purchased Nos. 33 through 37 Bethune Street.

The old horsewalk still separated the new factory from No. 39.

Oddly enough, while a substantial silk finishing factory was erected at Nos. 33 through 37 and at 745-747 Washington Street, the vintage house at No. 39 Street survived as the firm's office.  

A 1911 advertisement discretely removed the 1846 house from its depiction (where the empty lot appears at the corner); however the old D. H. Carpenter & Co. factory is included.  Silk magazine, November 1911 (copyright expired)

In 1912 the Zurich Silk Finishing Company of America merged with three other firms to form the Silk Finishing Company of America.  The former residence continued to house its business offices.  

For decades to come workers would receive an envelope of cash on paydays.  That practice necessitated at least one employee to make a weekly trip to the bank to withdrawal the payroll, making him a tempting target for robbers.

On December 21, 1912 paymaster Charles Weber and assistant paymaster Edmund Wyder made their regular Saturday morning trip to the Security Bank of New York on Ninth Avenue at 14th Street.  Because they had given the workmen an unusual mid-week advance so they would have money for Christmas gifts, the payroll was only $1,194, about half of normal.  It was nevertheless a significant $32,000 in today's money.

As they headed back to Bethune Street, two black touring cars were positioned on either end of the block.  Two men loitered on the sidewalk where the paymasters would have to pass.  And as they did so they were ambushed and bludgeoned with blackjacks.  The drivers of the automobiles reacted quickly, picking up the robbers and making off with the payroll.

Just over a week later police were close on the trail of the criminals.  The Sun said on December 30 "The detectives have traced the affair to a former employee of the silk mills who was discharged three weeks previous to the holdup."  It added "the arrest of a band of Harlem Italians...is hourly expected."

Dry Goods Guide, August 1920 (copyright expired)

It December 1920 $125,000 worth of silk in today's dollars was stolen from the factory next door.  A reporter from the New-York Tribune visited No. 39 three months later and was told "that the four employees who told of the robbery have good records and have the company's confidence."  It was apparently well-founded confidence because on March 25 four young men were arrested in connection with the robbery.

The Silk Finishing Company of America left Bethune Street in 1923.  An advertisement on August 9 offered simply "factory for rent."  Finally, three years later, Domestic Engineering and the Journal of Mechanical Contracting announced "C. F. Biele & Sons Co. has recently moved its office and factory to new and larger quarters at 33-39 Bethune street, in New York City, whither they removed from 379 West Twelfth street."

The firm had been organized in 1867 and produced show cases for department stores, museums and private collections among other clients.  In 1938 The New York Sun wrote "The Charles F. Biele & Sons Co., calling itself simply 'artisans in metal, glass and wood,' and usually referred to casually as makers of show cases and vitrines, is far from being as humdrum as it sounds."  The article clarified, "Important private collectors, such as Benjamin Altman...have called upon Biele for special cases; President Roosevelt for his ship model collection; Theodore Roosevelt for his japanese art objects and the present John D. Rockefeller."

A 1940's tax photograph reveals a painted facade.  The wooden shutters overlap one another in their opened position.  via the NYC Department of Records and Information Services.

Charles Biele was not only a designer, but a licensed architect.  He personally oversaw the custom orders.  The Sun noted "Biel has made cases for the Metropolitan [Museum of Art] for more than thirty-five years and for the Morgan Library going back to the elder J. P. Morgan."

Amazingly, as its predecessors had done, Charles F. Biele & Sons used the little brick house for its offices.  The firm was here until its dissolution in 1943.

In 1987 a renovation returned No. 39 to a single family residence.  It was placed on the market that year for $1 million; its realtor boasting four bedrooms, three baths, four fireplaces and "atrium and garden."

The renovation leaves no trace of the home's varied uses or of its miraculous survival.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Ken Biele (and relative of Charles Biel) for prompting this post

The 1915 Hotel Nobleton - 126 West 73rd Street

In the first years of the 20th century neo-Gothic style business buildings clad in gleaming terra cotta began popping up across the city.  The most notable, of course, was architect C. P. H. Gilbert's masterful Woolworth Building, completed in 1913.  That same year a fledgling developer, Edward West Browning, completed what was just his second building.  The 30-story World Tower was designed by Buchman & Fox in the same style and materials.

The architects and the developer would soon work together again.  On June 6, 1914 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted that the estate of William E. Hoe had sold Browning his 25-foot wide home at No. 126 West 73rd Street.  The notice added, "Mr. Browning has bought in the last month three other dwellings in the immediate neighborhood."

Later that year real estate operators Earle & Calhoun commented "Investors are beginning to realize that the West Side has become a big apartment house center and are buying private house sites for improvements with such structures."  And that was the impetus behind Browning's grabbing up of houses in the area.

On June 20 the Record & Guide announced "Buchman & Fox...are preparing plans for three apartments to be built by Edward W. Browning."  In fact the firm was essentially designing just one.  Browning's cost saving plan was ingenious.  By erecting three identical 13-story buildings the cost of terra cotta molds was reduced by two-thirds, as was, no doubt, the architectural fee.  Construction costs of each was projected at $60,000, or just over $1.5 million today.

Among them was the Hotel Nobleton on the site of the Roe house.  (The others were on 72nd Streets, Nos. 118 and 42.)  In its September 1914 issue The Clay-Worker described the "three Tower apartment hotels" as another innovation by Browning.  "The buildings will mark a new era in hotel construction, and testify to Mr. Browning's original ideas with reference to building."  And article added "The facades of the buildings will be English gothic, with ornamental terra cotta used throughout."

Intricate terra cotta tiles incorporate a profusion of Gothic designs.  Edward Browning's monogram appears in the central quatrafoil above the second floor.

Residence hotels, or "apartment hotels," were essentially a melding of the conveniences of hotel living (there were no kitchens in the apartments, for instance) with the long-term leases of an apartment building.  Residents enjoyed maid service and the use of hall boys who carried packages and delivered mail.  A common dining room was used by all tenants, the price of their meals included in the rent.

Like its identical siblings, the Hotel Nobleton had four suites per floor, "consisting of two rooms, foyer, hall and bath, with parquet floors," said The Clay-Worker.  Each floor contained four apartments.  The ground floor dining rooms opened onto a courtyard, described by the magazine as "Roman sunken gardens, so that in hot weather guests may eat in the gardens if they desire."

Among the initial residents was the rather peculiar Louis Graveure, who had moved in shortly after the building's completion.   In actuality, the actor and baritone was Wilfrid Douthitt.  He had made his New York City debut the year before in The Lilac Domino.  But when he rented his apartment in the Nobleton Hotel, he did so under the name of Louis Graveure--insisting he was not Wilfrid Douthitt.  He claimed that unlike the English-born Douthitt, he was Belgian.

Douthitt launched a new career under his assumed name.  On October 7, 1915 a reporter from the New-York Tribune showed up at his door in the Nobleton.  "Monsieur Louis Graveure still denies he is Wilfrid Douthitt, the light opera barytone, whom he so greatly resembles," said his article.  "He says, moreover, that he exceedingly dislikes the publicity given him.  When asked if he would submit to examination by members of 'The Lilac Domino' company, in which Mr. Douthitt was the star, Monsieur Graveure said he would refuse any such proposal."

The singer was scheduled to sing within the month and he now threatened to cancel if the harassment continued.  "'I have been made a fool of and don't like it.  I am not Wilfrid Douthitt, and I don't see why I should be called upon to prove it.  Perhaps, now, I shan't give my song recital in Aeolian Hall after all."

Wilfird Douhitt aka Louis Graveure.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Graveure did sing and on October 21 the critic from The New York Times began his review with a barb.  Included in the ticket price, he said, was "the privilege of guessing whether the singer was the man the program announced him to be, or another."  Although unconvinced (as was apparently nearly everyone) that Graveure was "newly discovered" as the recital announcements claimed, the critic was diplomatic.  "On the whole, Mr. Graveure is an interesting artist, whose recital showed a distinct improvement in aims and methods over the single concert appearance of his British ally, Mr. Douthitt, last season."

An advertisement in the New-York Tribune in September 1921 described the Hotel Nobleton as "The Hotel of Sunshine, Light and Air Accessible, Residential and Quiet."  The apartments were leased "handsomely and tastefully furnished" for $65 a month and up--just over $900 a month today.

The hotel was the scene of a heart-pounding incident on January 16, 1921.  Around midnight burglars "looted" the apartment Frederick Cowan, as worded by The New York Times.   They entered from the roof, but were spotted by a nearby resident, who called the police.  "There are burglars on the roof.  Send right away.  You can catch them."

The Times reported "Reserves and detectives raced to the scene and in a few minutes the block was surrounded."  Detectives discovered a clothesline tied to the Nobleton's chimney.  It led to the open sixth-floor window of Cowan's apartment.  They hid behind the chimney, waiting for the culprits to climb back up the rope.

When 21-year old Luke O'Neill, and then 23-year old William Daly, appeared, carrying a bag of Cowan's valuables, the police leaped out.  The Times reported "Daly dropped his bundle and fled toward a skylight, followed by O'Neill, but after three detectives had emptied their pistols the two were captured."  The newspaper described "an exciting chase of the roofs of houses on the south side of West Seventy-third Street."

Later that year Morris Curtis rented what The New York Herald described as "an elaborately furnished apartment."  Like Louis Graveure, he had more than one name.  He also went by Richard Cunningham, Marquis Curtis, and, according to The New York Herald, "half a dozen other names."  The police, however, knew him best as "Gimpy."  His arrest record stretched back to August 1899 when he was jailed for burglary.  He had been released from Sing Sing prison most recently in October.  

On June 12, 1922 The New York Times reported that Curtis, "a quiet, pale gray man in the forties," had answered the doorbell the night before to come face-to-face with Inspector John J. Coughlin, head of the detective bureau.  The men were already quite familiar with one another.  And now Curtis was suspected as having played a part in the robbery of Keith's Royal Theater in the Bronx.

Coughlin had come with three detectives.  As the men talked the Inspector looked around the apartment.  His eyes "came to rest on two pint bottles of colorless liquid on the mantle-piece," said The Times.  "The inspector left his chair, crossed the room and picked up one," assuming it was bootleg gin or vodka.  He was wrong--it was nitroglycerin, used for blasting into safes.   Unwilling to become a victim himself, Curtis advised him of the contents.  "Then he replaced the bottle very, very tenderly beside its companion."

The detectives searched the apartment.  The New York Herald reported "In the apartment were found three loaded German Mauser automatic pistols with two extra clips of shells for each gun; a box of detonating caps, a heavy coil of wire such as used with explosives; three bank books" and three law enforcement badges.  A grip containing burglars tool was also found.

Curtis was arrested on suspicion of the theater burglary, of possessing explosives in a dwelling house, violating the Sullivan Law (i.e., having an unlicensed firearm), and possessing burglar's tools.

The Hotel Nobleton played a key part in a drama that caught national attention in 1924.  Francis Herman Roshek, described by The New York Times as "a well-to-do dry goods merchant," and his wife, Mary, had a 14-year old son, Frank.   The couple's marital bliss hit a bump when Francis suspected his wife of having an affair with Wilbert A. Leonard, the night clerk at the Nobleton.  Leonard was married as well.

The couple separated and Mary took Frank to their new apartment in--not surprisingly--the Nobleton.  Frank was a student at the Collegiate School on West 77th Street.  Following the first day of class on September 23, 1924 he failed to come home.  Inquiries revealed that he had never showed up at the school.  The Times said "investigators attached some significance to a statement by Mrs. Roschek that Franklin had spoken of a hunchback who had accosted him in Riverside Drive."

A nationwide search was launched when no trace of the boy could be found.  His father offered a reward for any information.  

In fact, perhaps upset with the upheaval in the family, Frank had made his way to Washington D.C. where he got a job in a drugstore.  He might have remained missing much longer had he not become ill late in October and telephoned his father to come for him.  Francis brought the boy back to their house on West 81st Street.  Mary flew into a rage.

She went to court charging her husband with kidnapping; and suing for divorce as well, saying he "beat her on many occasions" and had driven her from the 81st Street house "at the point of a pistol."  She said he had been cruel "nearly the entire fifteen years of their marriage."  Francis sued as well, pointing out the extramarital affair with Leonard and producing Hotel Nobleton employees and residents who saw Mary and him together.

Frank, in the meantime, was caught between his parents' bitter battle.  In an unusual decision, when the divorce was granted Francis got custody of his son, with Mary having "an opportunity to see him occasionally."

Another shady tenant of the Nobleton was Harris C. Willis.  He and James Kelbe, who lived in Queens, were arrested on June 5, 1930, charged with operating an unlicensed radio station.   These were not innocent ham operators, but sophisticated gangsters bringing illegal liquor into New York Harbor by ship.

The Standard Union reported that the arrest came after weeks of investigation by Federal agents and the Coast Guard.  "According to Assistant U.S.. Attorney J. Bertram Wegman, the men are believed to be part of a rum-running syndicate and are thought to have been communicating with ships at sea."

In 1969 a renovation resulted in two apartments and half of two duplexes per floor; reducing the number of apartments but enhancing the desirability of half of them.

In 1998 a restoration of the facade was completed by architects Cutsogerge & Tooman.   Buchman & Fox's original plans had not called for adequate steel in the vertical sections between the openings.  Forty of the 55 terra cotta panels were reproduced in fiberglass as new steel was installed behind them.

photographs by the author