Martin Ferdon's 1895 646 West End Avenue

 

In 1895 developers Powers & Welcher hired architect Martin V. B. Ferdon to design a five-story flat house at No. 646 West End Avenue, just north of West 91st Street.  At 28-feet wide and 100-feet deep, the structure went up with blazing speed--completed within just four months.

Ferndon married Renaissance Revival and Romanesque Revival in designing the building.  The brawny, uncut stone blocks that faced the first floor and the clustered columns upholding the arched entrance, for instance, drew from Romanesque.  But the delicate carvings within the spandrel panels were pure Renaissance Revival.

The treatment of each of the upper floors was slightly different, with the arched top floor openings echoing those of the first floor and creating a happy balance.  Ferdon had the unusual opportunity to add fenestration and jutting bays to the south elevation because of the old lane which was not included in either this property nor that of the plot to the south of it.  The venerable pathway had originally joined the Bloomingdale Road to what is today the West Side Highway.

Each of the apartments in the building contained eight rooms, all of which, because of the lane, received natural ventilation and light.  Tenants enjoyed not only electric lights, but a passenger and a service elevator.

The building filled with white collar tenants, among the earliest of which was German-born musician Hermann Hans Wetzler.  His apartment doubled as his studio, where he taught "piano, harmony, composition and organ."  (His organ lessons were no doubt conducted elsewhere, although he very likely had a "parlor organ" in his suite.)

Hermann Hans Wetzler, Baker's Biographical Dictionary of 20th Century Classical Musicians

Wetzler did not rely solely on lessons for his income.  He was as well the organist at Trinity Church and a favorite among socialites for their musicales.  As the summer season drew to a close in 1897, for instance, the Newport, Rhode Island Herald noted:

There has been more good music this season at Newport than ever before.  Among the numerous musicales those given by Mr. and Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont, at Belcourt, were the most prominent.  Mrs. Belmont had engaged Mr. Hermann Hans Wetzler, of New York, to arrange and conduct her musicales and to play the beautiful large organ in her house, and showed rare artistic judgement in this choice, as well as n the general management of her musical entertainments.

A few weeks later, on September 22, 1897, the Musical Courier announced "Mr. Wetzler has returned and is again busy at his charming residence studio, 646 West End avenue, where there is a constant procession of pupils and musical folk."

Dr. Frank S. Grant and his wife lived in the building at the same time.  Born in Akron, Ohio in 1852, he was educated and the College of the City of New York and the College of Physicians and Surgeons.  He was the medical director of the Provident Savings Life Assurance Society, his financial success being reflected in his memberships to the Atlantic Yacht and the New York Canoe Clubs.

Other tenants included De Wit C. Baker, a long-time member of the New York Southern Society; merchant Albert E. McMulkin; and attorney George A. Heaney.  McMulkin was a partner in Francis McMulkin & Co. founded by his father in 1861.  The firm dealt in meat and poultry at the West Washington Market.  

Attorney George A. Heaney was a graduate of Columbia Law School and had offices at No. 15 William Street.  In 1903 the new Superintendent of Buildings, Henry S. Thompson, appointed him as his secretary.  The position added a yearly salary of nearly $75,000 in today's money to Thompson's income.

On the cold morning of February 18, 1904 The Globe and Commercial Advertiser ran the front page headline: "Peril After Main Breaks / Flood on Upper West Side Block Endangers a Number of Lives."  The article went on to report that the largest water main in the city had burst at around 4:00 that morning at Broadway and 92nd Street.  It "not only did thousands of dollars worth of damage to the neighboring property, but caused all heat to be stopped, narrow escapes from drowning in the basement flats, [and] loss of all early morning supplies of milk, rolls, and eggs to the tenants."

The article noted "At 646 West End avenue, an apartment house, the basement was flooded for five feet."  The janitor's apartment was there, and he, of course, was peacefully asleep.  "Janitor Buskey had a narrow escape," said the newspaper.

Onlookers watch the spouting water from the basement of No. 646 West End Avenue.  The Evening Telegram, February 19, 1904 (copyright expired).

The Evening Telegram added "Through this house most of the water found an exit after travelling through the cellars in that block.  The water burst open the basement door with such pressure that it spouted up to a height of several feet and appeared not unlike a geyser."

In 1914 Dr. Katherine Arends moved into an apartment and opened her medical practice here.  Three years later, on the night of May 21, 1917, she attended church services.  While she was away a burglar sneaked into her apartment by means of the fire escape.

When Katherine returned and opened her front door, she saw the shape of a man in the dark room.  Rather than scream and run, the 50 year old woman attacked.  The New-York Tribune reported "When Dr. Arends discovered the intruder she grappled with him and cried for help.  He struck her in the face, but she continued to hold him until he had choked her."

The confrontation was so intense that it was heard on the sidewalk and passersby notified an officer.  Patrolman Kies broke open her door and revived Arends, who was unconscious.  She was taken to Mount Sinai Hospital with a broken nose, scratches and bruises.  While the would-be thief escaped, he did so empty-handed.

As it turned out, Katherine's burglar was a psychopath.  His normal scheme was to answer ads placed by single women looking to share their apartments with another female.  Posing as the brother of a fictitious young woman who needed a place to live, he gained entrance.  Once inside the apartment he brutally attacked his victims before stealing their valuables.

The last of a string of complaints came from the widowed Juanita Tramanna.  The New-York Tribune reported "as in the former cases, [he] represented that he had a sister working in Wall Street, who was looking for a room...When Mrs. Tramanna led him to it he flung her down and beat her almost into unconsciousness.  He nearly tore her clothes from her in his frantic search for jewelry, but finally was frightened away by her screams."

In a period of three months he had stolen more than $3,000 in jewelry (nearly $60,000 in today's money) from women whom he also savagely battered.  Detectives laid a trap, placing eight decoy ads in newspapers then stationing an officer in each apartment.  One of those was in the apartment of Juanita Tramanna's sister, Martha Trautman.  Juanita waited silently in the bedroom with Detective Richard Golding.  And finally a knock came at the door at 8 p.m.

Martha answered it to find 18 year old John Horvath, who explained that his sister needed a room and he was there to pre-inspect it.  As soon as he was brought into the parlor, Golding confronted him.  The detective immediately noticed that Horvath was missing three teeth, as had been described by his victims.  As he started to handcuff the teen, Juanita Tramanna burst out and shouted "That's the man!"

The distraction gave Horvath an opening.  He "sank his teeth in the detective's arm.  Through the door they struggled and out into the small reception hall, were Horvath managed to wrest Golding's blackjack from him and brought it down across the detective's right eye, almost felling him."  Tenants poured out from their apartments to assist the officer.  One ran to the street to find help.  The New-York Tribune reported "Detectives Finan and McGowan arrived in time to aid in beating Horvath into submission."

Horvath's resolute resistance sent two officers to the hospital.  "Golding, whose arms were a mass of bite wounds, and Cannon, suffering from scalp lacerations, were taken to the Knickerbocker Hospital."  When Horvath was brought to trial on a long list of charges, Dr. Katherine Arends testified against him.

A renovation completed in 1920 reduced the size of the apartments to three rooms and a bath.  An advertisement in The New York Times on January 27 that year announced "Just Completed - Possession At Once" and touted "Real Kitchens."  Rents ranged from $1,320 to $1,800, or about $1,916 per month for the most expensive in today's dollars.

Despite the smaller apartments, the tenants continued to be professionals.  Among the initial residents was economist Lewis H. Haney, who had been a member of the exclusive Cosmos Club since February 1917.  Members of the social club had distinguished themselves in "science, literature and the arts, a learned profession or public service."  

Other tenants in 1921 were oil man J. Edward Jones, a graduate of the University of Kansas; and Dr. Warren B. Chapin, described by the New York Evening Post as a "well-known diagnostician."  He had graduated from Princeton in 1885 and then from the Medical School of New York University.

Housing laws at the time prevented landlords from discriminating against families with children; however the practice was still rife.  In 1921 the Daily News sent investigative reporters, masquerading as apartment hunters, into the field.  On October 21 the newspaper's findings said in part, "At 646 West End Avenue, three furnished rooms, in the back of the house, rent for $160.  But the superintendent scowled inhospitably at the mention of children.

"Miss Von Winkle, the owner, positively will not take children," he said.  "If you have children you must leave them somewhere else.  The last tenant had a child who broke up the furniture and ruined the wall paper.  No more children here."

That year the well-to-do attorney Allen T. Hopping and his wife, the former Genevieve McMaster, separated.  Genevieve moved into her mother's three room apartment at No. 646 West End Avenue with their four year old daughter, Mary Genevieve.  Genevieve found a job in a wholesale millinery firm making $35 a week.

Allen took Genevieve to court in a custody battle that would last six years.  As it turned out, neither would triumph.  On March 23, 1927 The Yonkers Statesman reported that Supreme Court Justice Mahoney had given custody of the now 10-year-old to her grandmother, Emma Louise Tilton Hopping of Hastings-on-the-Hudson.

Emma was the widow of millionaire Andrew Howard Hopping who had left her his entire estate.  The ruling said "These are advantages which could not be given either by the father or mother.  In my opinion the child should not be deprived of them solely because of the opposition of the mother, whose chief objection arises from an alleged love for the child and a desire to have her constant companionship."  He called Genevieve's motives, "selfish."

Sadly for Genevieve, she was allowed to see her daughter only on the last weekend of each month, and could have her from 4:00 p.m. on Christmas Day to the same time on December 31.

No doubt the most celebrated tenants were the New York Yankee's pitcher Vernon Louis "Lefty" Gomez and his wife, Broadway star June O'Dea.  The couple was married on February 26, 1933 and leased an apartment in the building. 

Lefty had debuted on the mound for the Yankees on April 29, 1930.  According to him, trouble between the couple had to do with their conflicting careers.  He wanted her to accompany him on road trips, but she desired to continue her stage career.  According to June, it had more to do with the hurler's drinking and "self destruction" problems.

Vernon "Lefty" Gomez and June O'Dea smile for the cameras.  original source unknown

She said in court in May 1938 that twice she had pulled him from a window sill before he could jump.  And once while driving home from a Brooklyn game he said to her "Maybe it would be a good thing if I would wreck this car and kill us both."  June claimed that when he drank, his temper overtook him.  She testified, according to The New York Sun, "One day, during the pitcher's 1935 season, he tried to beat up two Negro boys at their apartment on 646 West End avenue, but she managed to get him into the house.  That was the time she received the black eye."  Despite the highly-publicized proceedings, the couple reconciled and had two daughters and two sons.

For the next few decades professional tenants came and went.  Among them in the 1940's was Charles Joseph Herman, the chief clerk of the Upper Park Avenue Branch of National City Bank, in charge of operations.  And when World War II broke out, John T. Brickley left No. 646 to join the Marine Corps.

In 1941 the stand-alone structure was overshadowed by its neighbors.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Brickley had attended Dean Academy in Franklin, Massachusetts where he was a star football player.  He got his talent naturally, his father Charles E. Brickley having been "one of Harvard's gridiron immortals," according to The New York Sun.  Another student, Rodney D Sadler was never able to get a regular position as tackle on the team, overshadowed by "the huge form of John T. Brickley," according to The New York Sun.  

In an amazing coincidence, the two men were in the same Marine regiment, stationed in the South Pacific. They participated in the battle of Guadalcanal and now their old rivalry resumed.  The New York Sun reported on June 29, 1943, "Today Private first class Sadler is a second string tackle on a Marine regiment eleven--still trying to take the 'Varsity' assignment away from his friendly rival, Private First Class Brickley, U. S. M. C."

In the early 1980's the building was purchased by the West Side Kollel Torah, or Kollel Yisroel V'Shimson.  A synagogue was installed in the basement level.  It was the destination of jeweler Moses Dyckman each day as he attended the 6:45 service before he headed to work.

On the morning of September 15, 1981 Dyckman was walking to the synagogue when a car pulled up and two men dragged him into it.  Later the man's family received a telephone call demand for $10 million in ransom.  While the kidnappers waited, detectives received a tip that led them to an abandoned building in Harlem.  There they found the 86-year old handcuffed, gagged and with a paper bag over his head, but unharmed.

Unaware that Dyckman had been rescued, the kidnappers continued calling his home, eventually negotiating a drop-off point and a scaled-down ransom amount.  News coverage tipped off the crooks and they temporarily escaped capture.  But on October 7, 1981 The New York Times reported that two men had been arrested and a third, whose identity the police knew, was being sought.

The owners completed a renovation in 1984 that resulted in four apartments per floor, and another in 2009 that converted the first floor to classrooms, offices, and two apartments.

photographs by the author

The Lost De Peyster House - 10 Queen Street (Pearl Street)

 

This detailed watercolor was produced by Abraham Hosier, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Johannes De Peyster arrived in New Amsterdam around 1633 (although one source says 1647).  According to his descendent, John Watts De Peyster in 1888, "He was possessed of large means for the period, and brought out with him massive silver plate, exquisite articles of jewelry, and at once took a prominent position in his new home."  

His eldest son, Abraham De Peyster, became even more prominent in the community.  After the British took over New Netherlands in 1664, he became an alderman in 1685, mayor of New York in 1692, a judge of the Supreme Court, Treasurer of the Provinces of New York and New Jersey and a life-long member of the King's Council, and in 1700 was Acting Governor.

Abraham "possessed a very large property, and was noted for his benevolent, enterprising, hospitable and patriotic use of it."  In 1699 he donated part of his land as the site of the new City Hall, and the following year erected "the finest mansion in New York, which was filled with the richest furniture and adornments, and a large amount of beautiful silverware," according to John Watts De Peyster.   (Some historians place the date of construction at 1695, but that seems doubtful given the architectural style.)

The residence sat on Queen Street (renamed Pearl following the American Revolution) opposite Cedar Street.  The grounds engulfed the entire block, in the rear of which were the coach house and stable.

Three stories tall plus an attic floor, the mansion's Georgian design reflected the latest domestic fashion of England.  It was 80-feet wide and 59-feet deep.  Directly above the double-doored entrance was a Palladian window with French doors that opened onto a balcony.  Historian Martha Joanna Lamb noted in her 1877 History of the City of New York, "This balcony was for nearly a century the favorite resort of the governors of New York when they wished to hold military reviews."

New York State Governor the Earl of Bellemont, inspects the troops from the balcony.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Lamb was detailed in her descriptions:

The rooms of the house were immensely large (some of them forty feet deep), and the walls and ceilings were handsomely decorated.  The furniture was all imported, and was elaborately carved and very costly...The style of life of the family was the same as that of the European gentry of the same period.  They indulged in elegant hospitalities and costly entertainments, the chief people of the city and province, and stately visitors from the Old World, were often grouped together under this roof.

Abraham De Peyster's wife was his second cousin, Catharina De Peyster.  She had 16 household servants to assist in the lavish entertainments (nine of whom were "negro slaves," according to Lamb).  Her guests drank from cut glass and ate off imported china.  On the walls around them were hung paintings by old masters.

Abraham De Peyster from the collection of the New York Public Library

The De Peysters had four children, Catherine, Elizabeth, Abraham and Pierre Guillaume.  That they lived like European gentry was reflected in De Peyster's silver-trimmed coach, emblazoned with the family coat-of-arms.   Four matched "grays" pulled the vehicle.  And Martha Lamb recalled "the livery of his servants was a blue coat, with yellow cape, cuffs, and lining, and yellow small-clothes; the button-holes worked with yellow, and the buttons plain velvet."

Abraham, Sr. died on August 3, 1728.  Abraham, Jr., who was born in 1696, inherited the estate, popularly known as the "Great Garden of Colonel De Peyster."  He had married Margaret, the eldest daughter of Jacobus Van Cortlandt and Eve Philipse in 1722, the year after he was appointed Treasurer of the Province.  The large residence would prove useful, as the couple had eleven children.

Like his father, Abraham was conspicuous in public affairs.  He held his position as treasurer for 46 years, until his death in 1767 at the age of 71.   The estate passed to his eldest son, James, who had married Sarah Reade, daughter of Joseph Reade, one of the king's counselors.  The pair would have 13 children.  Their stay in the Queen Street mansion was short.

It was sold in 1769 to the Honorable Henry White, member of the Governor's Council and one of the founders of the Chamber of Commerce.  His wife was the former Eve Van Cortlandt, daughter of Frederick Van Cortlandt and Frances Jay.  Ardently loyal to the British crown, trouble came for White at the onset of the American Revolution.

As a vocal Loyalist, his properties were confiscated in 1779.  He fled with the British Army in 1783, leaving his wife behind in New York.  Eve moved into a house at No. 11 Broadway she had inherited from her father.  Henry White died shortly after leaving New York while Eve lived on to the age of 98, dying in her Broadway house on August 11, 1836.

In the meantime, on March 29, 1784 the Commissioners of Forfeitures were directed to "set apart such a house as the Governor might choose for a residence."  Governor DeWitt Clinton chose the former De Peyster mansion.  

Ironically, in 1786 it was purchased by Henry White's son, Henry White, Jr. (the grandfather of Caroline Schermerhorn Astor).  He continued leasing it to the state as the Governor's Mansion, for which he was paid an annual rent of 300 pounds.

The first business building had appeared next door when this etching was made around 1800.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

In 1797 the capital of New York State was moved to Albany.  By 1819 it seems that few recalled the former prominence of the Pearl Street house.  An advertisement in April that year offered the property for lease, describing it simply as "The three story House, No. 10 Pearl-street."

Two additional doorways have been carved into the base and business buildings have crowded in on both sides of the former mansion in this early 19th century depiction.  The once-famous balcony is gone.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

As commercial interests continued to crowd the neighborhood, the former De Peyster house was converted for business purposes.  Once touted as "the finest mansion in New York City," it survived until 1856.  The massive Emery Roth & Sons designed office building, completed in 1960 and known as 80 Pine Street, sits on the site today.

The 1855 No. 556 Broadway

 

The upward expansion of New York City was rapid during the first half of the 19th century.  In the 1830's the Broadway neighborhood around Prince and Spring Streets was an exclusive residential area.  But by the mid 1850's the wealthy homeowners were moving on, their handsome homes either converted or demolished for businesses.  In 1854 the house formerly occupied by Dr. Joseph T. Murphey was demolished and construction of a modern commercial building begun.

Documents regarding the owner and the architect have been lost, however the four-story building, completed in 1855, was striking.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in stone, its Italianate style building featured fully-arched openings upon molded sills, attractive eyebrows with foliate corbels, and a bracketed cornice with a scalloped frieze that followed the rhythm of the arches below. 

The original tenant of the ground floor shop was Gershom Lockwood, a tailor.  Upstairs was J. F. Luhme & Company, makers of scientific apparatus.  It was run by Hugo Goebler and among its employees was William A. Rorke, who wore two professional hats--glassblower and chemist.

Based in Berlin, J. F. Luhme & Company was founded in 1825 and had branches in St. Petersburg and Vienna.  Goebler (who was the brother-in-law of W. I. Rohrbeck, a Berlin executive), he had come to New York the same year that construction began on the Broadway building.  

In 1859 Gershom Lockwood moved his tailoring shop next door to No. 558.  His former space became the "eatinghouse" and beer saloon of Charles and Anna C. Wolf.  J. F. Luhme & Company now shared the upper floors with Crouch & Fitzgerald, dealers in trunks and bags, and Amedee Peyrot, who dealt in platina, an alloy of platinum and other metals.

Crouch & Fitzgerald's factory was in Brooklyn.  The advent of the Civil War meant additional business for firms like theirs.  On August 29, 1861 The New York Times reported that army officers had examined the firm's "new and ingenious trunk" called the Hardie's Combination Army and Excursion Trunk.  

The remarkable invention, when closed, appeared to be a normal trunk, 30 inches long, 21 inches wide and 20 inches high.  Opened in one configuration it made a large table capable of seating four men.  Or, "by throwing it open, it affords a cushioned settee" and by "raising one half of it, at an angle of 45°, with a brace to hold it in position, it forms a high-backed easy chair."  It could also convert to a six-foot long bed, with mosquito netting or a "nice writing-desk."  The article said that "several were ordered on the spot."

In 1862 the restaurant space once again became home to a tailor shop, this one run by John W. McKinley.  As many merchant tailors did, he gave work to journeymen who worked from home.  In November 1862 Henry Klumpp applied for work, giving a false name and address.  He was given fabric to make six coats and was to return with the finished goods the following Friday.  Instead he went directly to the pawnshop of Hamilton & De Long on East Broadway.  The goods were discovered there and Klumpp was tracked down, arrested and found guilty of grand larceny.

McKinley not only created his own goods, but imported high-end menswear.  On May 7, 1870, for instance, he advertised in the New York Daily Herald announcing "English Coatings--New Styles Just Received by McKinley, Merchant Tailor, 556 Broadway."

By then J. F. Luhme & Company had been gone from the building for five years.  In place of scientific instruments now were hats and apparel.  Clapp & Braden, millinery goods, was here in 1867, joined by women's clothing importer Clarence F. Moulton by 1870.  

Moulton used an innovative marketing tool on January 25, 1871--live models, a forerunner of the fashion show to come.  His punny advertisement read "Dew Drop Inn at 556 Broadway, and behold the finest looking ladies, dressed in gorgeous costumes; from 6 till 12 P.M. Admission free."

As other tenants came and went--S. Goldsmith & Co., straw hat makers were here in 1873, and milliner Phoebe Black and artificial flower dealer Davis & Stein here here in 1876, for instance--Crouch & Fitzgerald remained.  On Christmas Eve 1874 the firm targeted last-minute shoppers, saying they "are offering a large Christmas stock of fine leather goods, including satchels, pocket-books, cigar-cases, &c."

Andrew Fitzgerald lived in Brooklyn where he was a leading politician.  Among his closest friends was Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.  In 1878 Fitzgerald began experiencing liver trouble.  The New York Daily Herald reported "Dr. Chapman, deemed his case one of great stubbornness" and "determined to salivate him, and did so, with very serious consequences."  "Salivating" was a process intended to relieve constipation.  Unfortunately, it involved giving the patient a mercury-based enema.

"In a short time Mr. Fitzgerald was unable to swallow anything whatever, and said he would rather die than endure the torture of a renewed attempt."  And so the doctor turned to "enemas of condensed food."  Eventually Fitzgerald ordered the physician out "and vowed he would never have another [enema]."  The family sought the counsel of Rev. Beecher, who referred them to his family doctor, named Searle.

Searle attempted a dangerous and new procedure--a blood transfusion.  He found a "stout, hardy, rugged man" as a volunteer.  "The healthy man's arm was tapped and his red, rich blood flowed freely into a funnel held to receive it."  Fitzgerald's vein was opened and five ounces of blood was pumped in by a syringe.  The newspaper touted "The experiment was entirely successful and the instrument worked to a charm."  Unfortunately for Fitzgerald, he died shortly afterward.

The Evening Post, October 22, 1879 (copyright expired)

In December 1889 the owners had a two-story cast iron storefront installed at No. 556 Broadway.  The material allowed for vast expanses of glass which washed the interiors with natural light.  The modern addition clashed architecturally with the more delicate original design above.  The estate of William Backhouse Astor, Jr. purchased the building in 1897 and the following year joined it internally with Nos. 552-554.

Among the tenants was Fishel, Nessler & Co., jewelry manufacturers.  Established in 1885 by Henry W. Fishel and his brother-in-law, S. C. Nessler.  The New York Times remarked that the firm "began the manufacture of jewelry on a large scale."  Nessler retired in 1898 and Henry's brother, Theodore H. Fishel, replaced him as partner.

The brothers embarked on an ambitious scheme of establishing a chain of jewelry stores across the country.  They quickly opened six stores in several cities.  "The idea was that the retail stores would dispose of the surplus stock from the factory."  It was a disastrous endeavor.  The New York Times said that "in a short time...the Fishels lost between $75,000 and $100,000."  

The situation was kept a carefully guarded secret within the industry.  Then, on Tuesday, November 1, 1910, with a receiver about to be appointed by the court, Henry W. Fishel disappeared.  The New York Times said "The disappearance of Mr. Fishel became noised about the jewelry trade on Wednesday, but no one outside of his immediate family knew that business worry had led the manufacturer to leave home."

On Thursday Theodore Fishel received a letter from his brother, saying that he was at the Hotel Grand in Jersey City and asking him to come at once.  When he got there, a clerk's passkey was needed to enter the room.  "Lying on the bed was Mr. Fishel.  He was very weak, and could scarcely speak above a whisper."  The despondent 47-year old had swallowed Paris green, often used as rat poison.

Fishel was arrested for attempting suicide and, after his brother posted $500 bail, was taken home "in a dangerous condition."  He survived and the following year the firm was reorganized.

Vincent Astor made renovations to the storefront again in 1913.  Architect M. Joseph Harrison's remodeling seems to have been limited to the ground floor stores.

The appearance of Astor's new storefront (left) can be seen in this photo from around 1920.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Following World War I the building saw men's apparel firms as tenants, like The Broadway Neckwear Co. and the Royal Shirt Co. 

The Clothier & Furnisher, March 1922 (copyright expired)

Goldman-Gershon Sales Co. operated its store from the ground floor during the Great Depression years.  In 1933 it paid $266.67 per month rent, or about $5,260 in today's money.  The store was the target of armed robbers on the night of January 23, 1944.  The Daily News reported "Two police, well-dressed gents entered the offices of the Goldman-Gershon Sales Co., 556 Broadway at Spring St. at 6:30 last night and asked to buy some of the firm's general merchandise.  Then they drew pistols and demanded money."  The criminals escaped with the equivalent of just under $10,000 cash in today's money.

The Broadway neighborhood suffered decline for the next few decades, before experiencing a renaissance in the last quarter of the century.  Trendy shops, galleries and restaurants filled the neighborhood now known as Soho.  Today a branch store of the Canadian-based Aldo shoe and accessories chain operates from the much-altered storefront.

photographs by the author

The 1853 Andrew L. Vanvaler House - 142 East 30th Street

 

In 1853 builder and developer Thomas Kilpatrick erected the three-story house at No. 100 East 30th Street (renumbered 142 in 1868).  The 25-foot wide Anglo-Italianate residence featured a covered, full-width cast iron balcony at the floor.  Unusual for New York City, it smacked of the ornate iron porches of Nos. 3 and 4 Gramercy Park, most likely designed by esteemed architect Alexander Jackson Davis a few years earlier.  

There were two entrances, explained by The Buffalo Commercial decades later on May 7, 1908.  It said that Kilpatrick had produced "the first flat-house in what is now Greater New York."  In fact, it was less a "flat house," by today's terms, than a "double."  The owner would have the advantage of rental income from other half.  In the rear was a two-story carriage house which would be described in 1872 as having "room for three horses and three carriages."

The newly-completed house was purchased by Andrew L. Vanvaler, who dealt in mahogany and also ran a hoople factory.  Hooples were the current fad in children's toys--the 1850's equivalent of hula hoops or skateboards.  A hoople was a large wooden hoop which a child rolled down a sidewalk by pushing it with a flat wooden stick.  The farther the hoop traveled without falling over, the more successful its owner.

A girl with her rolling hoop, or hoople, and stick.

The other side of the house was occupied by the Coffin family.  Both Edward and William H. Coffin listed their professions as "clerk."  The Coffins moved out in 1862.  Prior to their leaving they placed a detailed advertisement in the New York Herald seeking "Part of a House wanted--By a family of three persons only, in a quiet and respectable neighborhood, on the east side of the city, between Thirtieth and Fiftieth streets; a basement kitchen in connection with other apartments [i.e. rooms] would be required."

By 1867 William S. Wait moved his family in.  He apparently was continuously seeking new business opportunities.  That year he ran a stables on Fourth Avenue.  By 1870 when the family of George N. Sanders took the second part of the house, Wait was also running two coffin stores, one on the Bowery and another on Christie Street.

George N. Sanders was apparently retired by now.  His son, George, Jr. was an attorney with an office at No. 9 Broad Street.

William S. Wait remained at No. 142 through 1880.  By now his stable business had expanded to three locations.  The following year John W. Martin moved in.  An officer in the Court of Common Pleas, he earned a yearly salary of $1,200--about $31,000 in today's money.  The Martins would remain in the house until 1895.  

On the other side lived the family of Charles R. Cuyler.  In the fall of 1887 he and other local residents were irate over a nearby brothel.  The Maison Tortoni, run by "a French madam known as Madam Chaude," was just feet away at the corner of Lexington Avenue and 30^th Street.  In 1887 Cuyler added his name to a petition against granting the “hotel” a liquor license.

The petition explained to officials that the Maison Tortoni was not at all a restaurant nor hotel, but “is in fact principally for the purpose of assignation and acts of the grossest immorality and licentiousness, and these acts are practiced nightly in this house, which is provided with separate wine-rooms, each of which is supplied with a bed, and where wines and liquors are served to the men and women frequenting the place.”  The family's indignation was further explained by Frank Cuyler's position as a Sexton of the Fourth Avenue Presbyterian Church.

The building was purchased in 1895 by Dr. George W. Thompson.  He was highly involved in the local Democratic party when not practicing medicine.

On September 16, 1896 he was called to a case far to the north on East 142nd Street at the home of a midwife, Mrs. C. Becker.  There "a young Danish woman, known only as Miss Smith," was in seriously condition.  The Sun reported "When he reached there he found the girl dying.  He at once went to a drug store and telephoned to the Coroner's office for a Coroner to take the girl's ante mortem statement."  (An ante mortem statement was legally necessary to charge the person responsible for the girl's injuries.)  

She told Dr. Thompson she had been injured by falling from a bicycle.  In fact, as Thompson no doubt readily discerned, she was suffering from a botched abortion.  He later said "she was very stubborn, and would tell absolutely nothing about herself or her friends."

When he returned to the house from the drugstore, he found that Mrs. Becker had ordered her horse and carriage brought around and had fled.  The girl died about two hours after Thompson arrived.  Police now wanted to find Mrs. Becker, "whom they consider responsible for the girl's death," and "the man responsible for the girl's condition."

In June 1899 Dr. Thompson was called to what The Sun deemed a "queer case of poisoning."  Harvey Moshier ran a trunk and bag store at No. 408 Third Avenue.  He and wife of just seven months, Pauline, lived above the store.  While they were visiting Moshier's mother upstate on Sunday, June 25 Pauline became ill.  The following morning she complained of heart pains.

On Tuesday afternoon a neighbor heard her moaning and found her with severe pain around the heart.  "I wish my husband were here," she said.  A few minutes later she fell unconscious and Dr. Thompson was called.  As he treated her, the 35 year old woman died.  The Sun reported "Being unable to obtain a history of the case he diagnosed it as cerebral apoplexy [i.e., a stroke]."  But there was something more sinister going on.

Coroner O'Hanlon determined that she had died of carbolic acid poisoning.  The Sun said that he was "of course, unable to determine whether the poison was taken with suicidal intent or not."  Nevertheless, no one expected that a suicidal woman would draw the painful process out over a three-day period.  Harvey Moshier quickly attempted to deflect suspicion.  The Sun reported he "scouts the suggestion that his wife committed suicide."  He told police that in the seven months of their marriage "they never had a quarrel."

The Thompson family retained possession of the house for years.  Their daughter, Ethel, received her teaching certificate from Normal College in 1901.  In December 1916 Dr. Thompson hired the well-known architectural firm of James B. Snook Sons to renovate the carriage house to a garage.

In September 1919 Dr. Thompson purchased the house just steps away at No. 136 East 30th Street and sold his home of a quarter of a century.  It continued to house two families at a time until 1930 when it was converted by the architectural firm of Scott & Prescott for its offices.  The rear building was now described by the Department of Buildings as a "tenement."

Scott & Prescott was a partnership of William O. Prescott and David Cairns Scott.  During World War I the firm had received government commissions to design the Army Hospital "for shell-shock patients," the remodeling of the Soldiers' and Sailors' Club of New York, the recreation building for the Navy Aviation Camp at Montauk Point, and the Navy Post Office.

Scott & Prescott remained for just over a decade, selling the property in 1941 to "an investor."  In 1945 the Gallery of Jewish Art opened in the building with an exhibition of paintings by Chagall entitled "Synagogues."  The gallery remained at least through 1947.

The house was little changed from the outside when Scott & Prescott operated here.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

In 1955 photographer Mark Shaw renovated the building, creating a "photo workroom" on the ground floor and a single family house above.  The carriage house was converted to a photographic studio.  Shaw is best known as the White House photographer for President John F. Kennedy. 

In announcing Shaw's death on January 28, 1969, The New York Times remarked "After President Kennedy's assassination, Mr. Shaw turned to filming commercials for television.  He maintained a large studio, known as Mark Shaw International, in the townhouse at 142 East 30th Street."

Thomas Kilpatrick's "first flat house" is as charming today as it was in 1853--a delightful discovery on a Kips Bay side street.

The Former Colored School No. 4 Building - 128 West 17th Street

 

The first Blacks arrived in New Amsterdam in 1626, imported from Africa as slaves by the Dutch West India Company.  During the British occupation of New York City in 1776 the population soared after the Crown promised freedom to slaves who deserted their rebel masters.  It resulted in thousands of runaway slaves flocking into the city.  By 1780 there were more than 10,000 Blacks living in New York.  Finally, in 1827, slavery was abolished in New York.  But freedom did not necessarily translate into improvement in the lives of Black citizens.

The city, of course, was tasked with the education of all children; but integrated classrooms was not conceivable.  "Colored schools" were established, staffed by Blacks.  They were an offshoot of the first African Free School, established in 1787 on Mulberry Street.  Seven Colored Schools were organized in 1834.  

In 1853 Primary Schools No. 27 and 29 shared the new 25-foot wide building at No. 98 West 17th Street (renumbered 128 in 1868).  Three stories tall and faced in brick, it had two entrances--one for boys and the other for girls--as expected in Victorian school buildings.  In the basement was a small living space for the janitress, Mary Sallie.

There were four teachers in each school, all unmarried women.  Their wages in 1855 ranged from $400, earned by H. A. McCormick (about $12,200 a year today), to the $100 salaries earned by Abbie M. Saunders and Eliza Ideson.  How the women survived on the equivalent of $3,000 a year in today's money is remarkable.

The street address was not the only thing about the school building that would change.  By 1861 it was renumbered Primary School No. 14 (H. A. McCormick was still teaching here at the time), and within two years it became Colored School No. 7.  That year it was staffed by seven teachers--four teachers in the Boys' Department and three in the Primary Department.  

By 1866 the name was changed yet again, now known as Colored Grammar School No. 4.  Schools across the city staged a yearly exhibition of the children's work and this one was no exception.  On May 30 that year the New York Herald reported "The exhibition of Colored Grammar School No. 4 took place last evening at the Cooper Institute.  The audience was quite large, and included a few white persons, both male and female, and was well pleased with the exercises embraced in the programme."  The newspaper was careful to point out that the school was "formerly No. 7."

Rather surprisingly, two specialized teachers were added to the staff in 1868.  William Appo, a renowned Black musician, taught music and S. Anna Burroughs taught drawing.  

Graduating from grammar school was an important milestone, especially for Black children who were often pulled from school in order to work and help their families financially.  On March 5, 1869 The Sun reported "In Colored Grammar School No. 4, in Seventeenth street, Mrs. Sarah J. S. Thompkins, the principal, treated her pupils to an inauguration celebration.  Remarks were made by the Rev. Charles B. Ray, Fred Sill, C. E. Blake, Jacob Thomas, and William F. Busler."

The position of music teacher was taken by Joan Imogen Howard, who came from Boston, Massachusetts.  Like William Appo, she was recognized as an accomplished musician.  She was as well an ardent worker for integration and racial rights.  On October 30, 1892 The World reported "Miss J. Imogen Howard, the only colored women on the Board of Lady Managers of the [Chicago] World's Fair, is busily engaged in gathering statistics concerning colored women in New York State.

Joan Imogen Howard, Women of Distinction, 1893 (copyright expired)

Reflecting the innate racism of the time, the reporter asked Howard if it were possible for a Black woman to become a member of "the learned professions here."  Her reaction was visible.  "Miss Howard looked surprised," said the article.  She replied "I know of a great many.  In Brooklyn there are three doctors, each of them enjoying a large practice and doing well...I am personally acquainted with one colored woman who graduated from law school with honors...Miss Ida B. Wells, a young colored girl, is assistant editor of the New York Age, a weekly paper devoted to the interests of the colored people."  She went on to list a number of other successful professional women.

In 1873 the attendance of Colored School No. 4 was 120 pupils.  The school building was showing the effects of two decades of use.  An inspection by the School Board that year found in part: "ceilings cracked through and need repairing; ventilation by windows; water closets of wood, in poor condition; heated by seven wood stoves, properly shielded with tin."

The tin-lined flues of the cast iron stoves would cause problems at least twice.  On January 6, 1879 The New York Evening Express entitled an article "Scared Colored School-Children" and reported "A defective flue caused a fire this morning in Colored School No. 4, at 128 West Seventeenth street.  The fire occurred just before the assembling of the school, and a panic was thus averted, although the children collected around the building were considerably frightened."

It may have been that incident that prompted Principal Sarah J. S. Garnet to routinely instruct the pupils on how to react to a fire.  (Sarah Garnet was the widow of the Rev. Dr. Henry Highland Garnet, the former Minister to Liberia.)  It proved to be worthwhile instruction.  On February 14, 1883 The Sun reported that another flue fire had broken out.

At around 10:30 that morning children on the second floor noticed wisps of smoke "and became restless."  Mrs. Garnet told a reporter "I had frequently told the children that if fire broke out they would have sufficient warning from me to enable them to walk safely out of the school building.  Their faith in me is what saved them from a panic."

There were a total of 150 children in the building.  Garnet instructed a teacher to arrange the pupils on the second floor in straight lines, while she went upstairs to do the same with the youngest children.  "At a signal the pupils marched down the narrow, wooden stairways and stood quietly in the inner court yard."  One child ran three blocks to the nearest fire station.  The fire was quickly extinguished and the pupils were marched back to their desks.  "They were as busy in the afternoon as though nothing had happened," said The Sun.

In 1884 Joshua S. Lawrence published an article in Ballou's Monthly Magazine entitled "The Negroes of New York."  He praised racial advances, beginning, "What a contrast between now and twenty years ago!  Then they were vassals, now they are clamoring for the offices and other perquisites of a free government."  His out-of-touch assessment was highly biased and he insisted "The negro in this city is not debarred or hindered in any way...Their children are allowed to enter public schools all over the city, besides having separate ones, taught by their own teachers."  

The article pointed out that integration was slowly coming about.  "In order to show that the color line is breaking in this regard, an idea encouraged by the Board of Education, is not to take notice of complaints when two or more negro children happen to be near the offspring of some fastidious parent."  Lawrence mentioned Colored School No. 4, saying it combined "both primary and grammar," levels.

At the time of the article the prospects for the school were dim.  The Board of Education had already proposed closing the school.  The minutes of the Board of Education on March 5, 1884 documented the receipt of a petition "From the Teachers of Colored Grammar School No. 4, asking that said school be continued for a longer period than that assigned by the action of the Board in 1883."  The petition was forwarded to the Committee of Colored Schools.  Its decision was no doubt disheartening.  

The teachers were permitted to continue to teach "in other premises than the school building, but without incurring any expense on the part of the Board."  In other words, if the teachers wanted to continue the school, they were responsible for all aspects of it, including funding.

But there was obviously a change of heart.  The facility continued, now known as Grammar School No. 81.  Sarah J. S. Garnet was still principal and Joan Imogen Howard was still teaching here in 1892.  Another inspection that year reflected the poor sanitary conditions.  It said "the sinks are defective and cannot be cleaned and flushed regularly.  The closets [i.e. toilet rooms] are not ventilated, but are filled with sewer gas and foul air."

The push to discontinue the school in the 17th Street property continued.   In December 1894 Mayor William L. Strong received a resolution from the Board of Education "requesting the sale of property No. 128 West Seventeenth street." By the following year the building was unoccupied.

Finally on March 24, 1896 the City signed a deal with the Civil War veterans of the 73rd Regiment to lease the ground floor as its clubhouse.  Four months later renovations had been completed and on July 6, 1896 the New-York Daily Tribune reported "The members of the Veteran Association of the 73d New-York Volunteers-2d Fire Zouaves--held a celebration in honor of the opening of their new headquarters, No. 128 West Seventeenth-st--the old schoolhouse."  Among the entertainment that night was John J. Moloney, who "gave his bone solo, which elicited much applause."

The club rooms were decorated with war relics, perhaps the most significant of which was the first Confederate war flag captured by the North.  On March 11, 1907 The Yonkers Statesman explained that it had been taken by Corporal Daniel Boone on May 2, 1862 at Yorktown, Virginia.

Other than the sign announcing the Veteran Association, little had changed in the school building.  Note the small-paned windows of the upper floors.  Real Estate Owned by The City of New York, January 1, 1908 (copyright expired)

Interestingly, the city retained possession of the old school house property.  On January 19, 1921 The City Record announced that renovations would be made "to properly place the premises...in a state of occupancy for the Veteran Fire Association."  The 73rd Regiment Veterans remained in the ground floor while $5,000 was spent in renovations on the upper floors for the Veteran Fire Association.

The new residents renamed their portion of the building Firemen's Hall.  Like its downstairs neighbor, it was a social club.  On February 17, 1923, for instance, The Brooklyn Standard Union reported "The Veteran Firemen's Association held its annual banquet last Saturday night, at Firemen's Hall, 128 West 17th street, Manhattan.  There were 300 members and their guests present, and it was a most unique affair."

Around 1941 the remarkable holdout still retained its schoolhouse appearance.  from the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The two organizations remained in the building at least into the 1930's.  A renovation in 1931 made "general repairs to the toilets, urinals and all the fixtures."

The building was later acquired by the New York City Department of Sanitation, which utilizes it today.  At some point a a veneer of yellow brick was applied.  Remarkably, the small paned windows survive.  The little building with its remarkable history is easily passed by today with little notice.

photographs by the author

many thanks to Laurence Frommer for prompting this post