The 1892 Middle Church House - 50 East Seventh Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

In 1891, the Middle Collegiate Church hired architect Samuel B. Reed to design its newest church building, at 112 Second Avenue.  This would be its third structure.  The congregation was established in 1729  at Cedar and Nassau Streets.  In 1859 it moved north to Lafayette Place and Fourth Street.

Included in Reed's commission was the designing of the multi-purpose Middle Church House around the corner at 50 East 7th Street.  While he designed the church in the Gothic Revival style, he turned to Romanesque Revival for the church house.  Five stories tall above an English basement, the upper four floors were clad in beige Roman brick.  Reed faced the first floor with undressed limestone--the same material used for the church.  The asymmetrical design included grouped windows at the second and third floors within an arch crowned with a stone eyebrow.  The charming fifth floor design was composed of a tower-like western portion with a triple arcade and pyramidal cap, while the eastern portion was distinguished by a wide dormer with a hipped roof, fronted by a stone balcony.

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Inside were living accommodations for the minister and his family, an auditorium for lectures and services, a gymnasium, Sunday school rooms, and administrative offices.

The year 1918 was especially noteworthy for Reverend Edgar Franklin Romig.  He was ordained in March, was married to Ella Woodruff Dutcher on May 11, and was appointed minister of Middle Collegiate Church in 1918.  Rev. Romig and his bride moved into the Middle Church House.

Romig had a fascinating past.  Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania on March 22, 1890, he graduated valedictorian from Franklin & Marshall College in 1911 and graduated from the Union Theological Seminary in 1918.  (He would earn an M. A. degree from Columbia University in 1923.)  From 1913 to 1916, he was an instructor at Syrian Protestant College (now American University) in Beirut, Syria.  In August 1914 he served in the American Consulate in St. Petersburg, Russia.

At some point, the building became the repository of William Leverich Brower's extensive collection of historical memorabilia.  A catalogue published in 1926 said, "This collection comprises one hundred and thirty prints and photographs of persons and places chiefly identified with the earlier history of the City and Nation."

The 1930 Year Book of the (Collegiate) Reformed Protestant Dutch Church of the City of New York outlined some of the activities offered in the Middle Church House.  In addition to the "large number of boys and young men at the Sunday School services," said the article, there were Sunday school classes for girls and young women.  Young men were offered physical education and health classes, and a Boy Scouts troop was organized here in 1929.

photograph by Carole Teller

As the East Village neighborhood changed, the offerings within the Middle Church House adapted.  In May 11, 1960, for instance, The Villager reported, "A film, 'Voices Across the Miles,' will be shown...in the Middle Church House" on May 17.  The following year, on February 2, 1961, the newspaper reported on the Middle Collegiate Church's upcoming production of Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana.  The article mentioned that dramatic soprano Susan Griska, who would be singing the lead role, "is directing the costuming and staging of the production in the Middle Church House."

Neighborhood outreach was reflected in programs hosted here.  A "Game Night" for the benefit of the Warwick Fund was held here on October 19, 1962.  (The Warwick Fund, administered by the American Philosophical Society, helped orphans of World War II.)  As early as the following year, volunteers from the Society of Illustrators offered art classes to teenagers here as part of the Blue Curtain Youth Program in the neighborhood.  And on April 4, 1983, as reported by The New York Times, the second East Village Arts Festival would open here.  The article said, "Artists, musicians, dancers and other performers who live in the East Village will take part."

With the AIDS crisis ravaging New York City in 1986, Celebrate Life Meal for Persons Living with HIV/AIDS was established here.  At a time when HIV victims were often seen as pariahs, Reverend Gordon R. Dragt, explains in his One Foot Planted in the Center, the Other Dangling off the Edge,

Every Monday night a meal was served, vegetables and groceries were distributed, people were greeted and hugged, a social worker, nurse and nutritionist were available, entertainment was provided, and special event parties were planned.

Around 1987, the Divine Theater was established in the auditorium, staging productions like Bertolt Brecht's theater-dance piece, Dog and Bone in November that year.  The name was changed to the Cooper Square Theater in 1989.  The venue would continue to offer performing and visual arts.  On May 11, 2001, The New York Times reported, "A choreographic collective, De Facto Dance," would be performing for two days at "Middle Collegiate Church Performance Space, 50 East Seventh Street."

Tragedy came on December 4, 2020 when Middle Collegiate Church was destroyed by fire.  Executive minister Amanda Ashcroft summed up the catastrophe to the New York Post.  "This has been a year already with racial inequity, economic inequity, a global pandemic and now our church is burning."

The extended columns give the appearance of having always been there.  photograph by Carole Teller

The shaken congregation rallied.  After holding services online and in East End Temple, plans were initiated to convert Middle Church House to the new worship space.  Recently completed, the facade was deftly altered by the removal of the stoop and lowering of the entrance to grade.  The architects seamlessly extended its engaged columns and installed a two-paneled transom to fill the resultant void.  A double-doored entrance to the worship space was installed to the side.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1893 248 West 23rd Street

 

Contractor and real estate developer Isidore Hoffstadt and his wife, Bettie, often worked as a team--Bettie handling the business side and Isidore the construction.  On May 15, 1893, the New York Herald reported that Bettie Hoffstadt had spent $28,000 for the 25-foot-wide, four-story brownstone at 248 West 23rd Street.  On the site, Hoffstadt erected a six-story business building.

The structure went up at lighting speed and construction was completed before the end of the year.  The pace was made possible by the pre-fabricated, cast iron faceted bay that engulfed most of the second through sixth floors.  Above a cast iron base, the bay nestled between beige brick piers decorated with terra cotta tiles and carved "capitals."  A commercial take on Italian Renaissance Revival, the design was capped by an elaborate pressed metal cornice.

Immediately upon its completion, the Hoffstadts sold 248 West 23rd Street to William C. G. Wilson for $86,000, or about $3.2 million in 2026 terms.  The building's early tenants included two disparate lighting companies--The Incandescent Gas Lamp Co. and the Standard Electric Light and Novelty Co.

On March 15, 1894, the cumbersomely named The Plumbers' Trade Journal, Gas, Steam and Hot Water Fitters' Review reported on the former firm's innovation in lighting.  "This burner they claim will distribute the gas evenly allowing a large volume of oxygen to unite with the gas and gives a brilliant mellow light."

The Sun, November 18, 1897 (copyright expired)

In reporting on the Standard Electric Lamp & Novelty Company on September 5, 1896, Western Electrician noted, "The company has prepared a large number of new designs in miniature incandescent lamps for decorative purposes that are very beautiful and of various shades of color and forms."  In addition to the firm's cutting edge technology in electric lighting, it also manufactured "complete X-ray outfits," according to the article.

Other tenants by the turn of the century were Samuel Budd, who made "fine custom shirts;" Demmerle & Co., makers of automobile apparel like cloth caps and dusters; Bennett & Felt, "dealers in mantels," and the somewhat shady The Animal World and The Humane Alliance.

The latter organization was headed by E. C. Vick.  His operation came crashing down when he was arrested on February 25, 1901 for "using the United States mails for fraudulent purposes," according to The New York Times.  Vick placed advertisements in newspapers nationwide that promised that "he would give to all who wished them pet animals of all species" for free.  But there were conditions.

First, the recipient had to take a pair of animals, one male and the other female, and "agree to sell to The Animal World the first of the progeny."  The recipient also had to purchase a $1 membership to The Animal World and the Humane Alliance.  But when the prospective subscriber send off his $1, instead of receiving his pair of gray squirrels or Belgian hares or even Shetland ponies, he received a letter that said, "on receipt of the requisite number of subscriptions to the publications...the animals would be shipped forthwith."  

According to Post Office Inspector Sutton, letters of complaint had come pouring into his office, "by the score from all parts of the country."  Vick defended himself, saying that his arrest was "a mistake" and that he would show that "everything was on the square."

Uncontestedly "on the square" was Demmerle & Co.  Having started out manufacturing cloth caps for automobile drivers, by 1903 it was designing and making entire outfits.  On October 1 that year, the Cycle & Automobile Trade Journal reported on the company's new invention--a "combination garment...intended for use as an overcoat or as pants and coat."  The ankle-length coat could be modified by wrapping the lower portions around the legs, creating "pants."  The article said, "Where it is necessary to straddle a steering pillar to manipulate foot levers, this coat will be found very useful in cold weather as both limbs are protected against the cold and wind."

The lower portion Demmerle automobile coat could be converted to pants.  Cycle & Automobile Trade Journal, October 1, 1903 (copyright expired)

Demmerle & Co. introduced another innovation in automobile apparel that year--"the first automobile gown."   The Evening World explained on January 23, 1903, "The proper attire for the feminine motorist is more difficult to determine than any other style of garment."  At the request of "Mrs. Vanderbilt" (the article did not specify which of the Vanderbilt women), Demmerle & Co. had designed "a tailor suit of tan suede."  The article said the socialite requested "something that would be warm and comfortable and at the same time display her shapely figure."

Demmerle & Co. created this custom-made "automobile suit" for Mrs. Vanderbilt.  The Evening World,  January 23, 1903 (copyright expired)

The Vanderbilt suit sparked an entire line of women's apparel for automobile travel.

Demmerle & Co. did not rely solely on their in-house designers.  On May 21, 1904, Automobile Topics reported, "Mr. L. Mendelsohn, of Demmerle & Co., 248 West Twenty-third street, sailed on Tuesday for Europe...He expects to study the situation in the automobile clothing trade abroad and will return with many novelties."

The Clothier & Furnisher, August 1907 (copyright expired)

Mendelsohn's trip might have surprised many in the industry.  The previous month, 248 West 23rd Street was ravaged by fire.  Boys playing in the vacant lot next door on April 14, 1904 built a bonfire.  It spread into the building through a first floor window.  The New York Times reported that the fire "raged on the first, second, and third floors for nearly half an hour."  The Demmerle & Co. employees were quickly evacuated, but the 50 young women who were employed in Samuel Gordon's shirt factory on the top two floors were trapped.

The Times said the women "became panic-stricken.  A few of them were induced by three policemen to climb out over the roof to safety, but the majority were taken down in the elevator."  Hugh Norton, known by the building's occupants as Hughey, was the elevator operator.  According to The Spectator, he "stuck by his elevator and ran it up ten times through smoke and flame until every one of the imprisoned girls was brought down to safety."  The New York Times reported, "When the last of the girls were safe in the street the elevator man fell in a faint, completely exhausted."  

In response to Norton's actions, according to The Spectator on April 21, "Andrew Carnegie has just established a fund of $5,000,000 from which such heroes are to be rewarded."

Edward Rhine moved his Rhine & Co. into the building in 1907.  The Millinery Trade Review reported that the firm had "increased their facilities for the manufacture of millinery linings, as well as their sales of millinery lining silk."  

The company had barely settled in when an employer, fabric cutter Joseph Moses, approached Edward Rhine, "with the proposition that for $700 he would give Rhine information leading to the arrest of employees in his establishment who were robbing him," reported the New York Herald on May 26, 1907.  Rhine notified the police and a detective provided him a marked $10 bill and instructed him to make an appointment with Moses.

Rhine met Moses at the corner of Nassau and Fulton Streets on the night of May 25.  After taking the bill, Moses told Rhine that "if he would watch the corner of Bleecker and Carmine Streets later in the evening he would discover a dishonest employee."  At that point, undercover detectives arrested Moses.

Detectives then went to Bleecker and Carmine and waited.  Two men met on the corner, one with a suitcase and the other with a large bundle, and entered a saloon.  The man with the bundle was Sephan Nilan, an employee of Edward Rhine.

The detectives followed the pair into a back room.  The New York Herald said they "found four men clustered about a table, upon which were displayed about $500 worth of fine silks and feathers."  All four were arrested and, according to the article, police would release Moses the next day.

Fairchild's Men's Wear Directory, 1907 (copyright expired)

In 1912, Demmerle & Co. employed 78 workers, 29 of whom were females and 3 were teenagers between 14 and 16 years old.  By then, the firm had expanded into full automobile wardrobes, including footwear and chauffeurs' uniforms.

The Savoy Waist and Dress Company occupied the top floor in 1914 when another example of heroism during a fire took place.  At around 6:00 on the night of October 15, Mabel Snedecker, the firm's owner, discovered that the back stairway was in flames.  A series of full-width, balcony-like fire escapes fronted the 23rd Street facade and Schnecker directed her workforce of 60 young women toward the fire escapes.  As they exited the building, they saw that "hundreds of persons" had gathered on the street below, "according to the New York Herald.  The article said, "In the excitement two girls fainted."

The building-wide, platform-like fire escapes that saved the lives of the Savoy Waist and Dress Company employees were still in place in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Calling their employer a "heroine," the New York Herald said, "They were carried down the fire escape to safety on Miss Snedecker's back before the firemen arrived."  The newspaper said that, while the fire was confined to the top floor, the Savoy Waist and Dress Company factory was "entirely destroyed."

In 1914, the ground floor space became home to the American Soda Fountain Company.  It would remain at least into the 1920s.

By the early Depression years, apparel firms had migrated northward and 248 West 23rd Street began seeing a different type of tenant.  In February 1930, for instance, the Skinnell Silver Plating Company moved into the building.

In the mid-1960s, A Dinnerman Storage occupied at least one of the lofts, and in 1974 the Printmaking Workshop was in the building.  The New York Amsterdam News explained on July 20 that year that the organization "endeavors to make art a part of each student's life experience--using their own creative images as the catalyst."

Healthy Chelsea, a health food store, occupied the ground floor space in the mid-1980s.  It remained until 2009, replaced by a dentist office, a frozen yogurt shop, and finally a tax consultant firm in 2015.  

The storefront has been modernized with unflattering panels, however the upper floors remain essentially intact.  Although there was never an official renovation to residential, there are six apartments in the building today.

photographs by the author

A Severe Transformation - 1 West 103rd Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1892, developer J. C. Barth completed an ambitious project -- the erection of nine "five-story brick and stone flats" on Central Park West.  Designed by Edward Wenz in the Romanesque Revival style, the buildings stretched from 103rd to 104th Street.  Seven of them faced the avenue and two opened onto the side streets.  Wenz faced the buildings in yellow Roman brick atop a striated brownstone base.  Each of the entrances sat below layered arches upheld by clustered columns.  Here, the architect used historic license by adding Renaissance inspired decorations.

Brutalized today, the former entrance originally had a glass transom.  The intricate carvings on either side once continued into the now blank upper panels.  photograph by Anthony Bellow

The southern building, 1 West 103rd Street, attracted a variety of tenants, including several theatrical figures.  Among the first was actor and manager Harry Hine, who, with his wife, were original tenants.

Two years prior to moving into 1 West 103rd Street, Hine received a windfall.  On June 6, 1890, The Times-Democrat said he "left Hallen & Hall's 'Later On' in St. Paul as soon as he heard of his good fortune and came straight to New York."  That "good fortune" was his inheriting $50,000 from Horace S. Lanfair.  The amount would translate to about $1.8 million in 2026.

The Indianapolis News called Hine, "one of the best known of the younger generation of American theatrical managers."  He would not enjoy newly found wealth, however, for long.  At the time of his inheritance, he was already showing symptoms of consumption, known today as tuberculosis.  He became ill in the fall of 1892 and died in his apartment on February 12, 1893. 

Alfred W. Barthelmess married actress Caroline Harris on September 2, 1893.  The newlyweds moved into 1 West 103rd Street where their only son, Richard Semler Barthelmess, was born on May 9, 1895.  Alfred died at the age of 34 on May 5, 1896.  Caroline not only continued her stage career, she tutored her son in the dramatic arts.  

Actress Caroline Harris and her actor son, Richard Barthelmess.  (original source unknown)

Both would go into silent films, and Richard would become a well-known silent film actor, starring opposite Lillian Gish in D. W. Griffith's Broken Blossoms and Way Down East.  He would go on to co-found the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and be nominated twice for the Academy Award for Best Actor.

Celebrated actress Alice Fischer and her Shakespearean actor husband William Harcourt King lived here as early as 1902.  Alice was born in January 1869 and debuted on the stage in 1887.  The following year she first appeared on Broadway in the role of Minna in Little Lord Fauntleroy.

Born in 1866, King was known to audiences as William Harcourt.  He and Alice were married on May 7, 1893.

Alice Fischer suffered a frighting incident on the night of October 16, 1902.  After her performance that night, she was heading home in a carriage on Fifth Avenue when, at around midnight, a man in evening dress walked directly in front of the vehicle and was nearly run down.  The man "grabbed the bridle and began to abuse" the cabman, reported The New York Times.  When the driver "whipped up his horse to go on," the angry pedestrian pried a brick from the pavement and hurled it at the cab, breaking the side window and striking Alice's face.  He then dashed into the University Club.

The New York Times reported that Alice "drove up to the West Forty-seventh Street Station...bleeding from a severe cut on her cheek."  After reporting the incident and giving police a description of the attacker, said the article, "Miss Fischer drove away, saying she was going to a doctor to have her wound dressed."

Alice Fischer, from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Alice's personal maid was Sally Pate, and their relationship had an unexpected start.  On March 29, 1899, Sally arrived from Atlanta, Georgia to audition for Williams & Walker, a minstrel company "that made a specialty of good singing and dancing," according to the New York Herald.  But her train was delayed by three hours and when she arrived at the theater, the role had already been cast.

The dejected would-be entertainer "looked about for some other theatrical engagement," said the newspaper.  Finding a position for a female Black entertainer was difficult, at the time.  Alice Fischer, who heard of her plight, realized that as much as did Sally.  The next day Sally was working for Alice Fischer as her "lady in waiting," as worded by the New York Herald. 

Now, eight years later on April 16, 1907, Sally was still living  and working for Alice and William.  That night she was married in the drawing room here to William Henry Bunn.    

The entrance to 1 West 103rd Street is at the left, on the side street.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The next morning, Alice left for Chicago on tour and, apparently, William accompanied her.  Bunn worked at the ice cream counter of a West 103rd Street pharmacy and the newlyweds had no money for a honeymoon.  The New York Herald said that Alice had given them the use of "the entire flat while the actress is in Windtown."

An interesting tenant here as early as 1905 was Ottoman Zar-Adusht Ha'nish, described by the New York Herald as "the Public Instructor of Mazdaznan Philosophy in America."  Ha'nish was not only its instructor, but he was the founder of the neo-Zoroastrian religious movement.  Among its tenets were a vegetarian diet, "intestinal hygiene," and fasting.  

One of his students, Mrs. Brownie Rathbone Weaverson, took the practice too far, according to police, who arrested her on March 18, 1905 "for practising [sic] medicine and attempting to cure a gangrene leg."  In reporting the incident, the New York Herald called Ha'nish, "the head of Mrs. Weaverson's cult."

Terra cotta panels depict fearsome chimeras.  photograph by Anthony Bellov.

An advertisement in The New York Times in 1907 offered a seven-room corner apartment with bath at $75, or about $2,700 per month today.  The ad mentioned that the apartment had a "fine view."

The building was updated in July 1919.  The owner, H. S. Proctor, hired architects DeRosa & Pereira to do "improvements" that cost him the equivalent of more than $1.8 million today.  Presumably, the renovations included electricity and improved plumbing.

Tenants continued to be professional and upper-middle-class.  Among them in the 1920s was journalist Edward E. Marriott.  Born in England in 1862, he came to America as a boy.  In the 1890s, he was hired as a reporter for The New York World.  In 1918, he joined the editorial staff of the New York American.

On January 6, 1944, The New York Times reported that the nine buildings, including 1 West 103rd Street, had been purchased by Herbert H. Bachrach and Ira Rosenstock.  The article said they were "modernized into 110 apartments of small units."

The 1971 project resulted in staggering contrast in material and architectural styles. photograph by Anthony Bellov

That renovation could not compare with the changes that were completed in 1971.  Almost all of the 1892 facade was stripped away.  (By conserving sections of the exterior, the developers did not have to conform to "new building" conditions.)  The original entrances on 103rd and 104th Street were preserved--more or less--and bricked up.  Although described as a remodeling because of the various surviving elements on the side street elevations, the  term "facadism" would be more accurately applied to the project, but even then only by the most generous definition.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The Lost Henry Ammon James Mansion - 735 Park Avenue

 

from the collection of the New York Public Library

British-born architect Frederick Junius Sterner arrived in New York City in 1906.  He purchased an architecturally outdated brownstone on East 19th Street and transformed it into a Mediterranean-style villa with a stuccoed facade and red tile roof.  Within five years, he had remade numerous high-stooped brownstones around the city into modern mansions for numerous wealthy patrons.  

Henry Ammon James would add his name to Sterner's client list in 1916.  On January 29, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported that Sterner was designing renovations to the old brownstone at the northeast corner of Park Avenue and 71st Street.  The plans included the removal of walls and stairs, "rearrange [the] roof," creation of "new areas," and installing modern "plumbing, wiring and heating."  The remodeling would cost James $25,000, or about $756,000 in 2026 terms.

The vintage four-story-and-basement house, built in the 1870s, originally faced 71st Street.  Sterner reconfigured the layout, placing the entrance on Park Avenue.  The "new areas" in his plans included extending the building to the north.  Sterner transformed the high-stooped house into a modern Elizabethan Revival-style townhouse.  Two projecting, two-story bays distinguished the Park Avenue elevation, and multi-paned, leaded windows throughout gave the house a sense of antiquity.  The otherwise symmetrical design was upset by the peaked attic level with its disparate sized gables.  It stopped short of the northern extension.

Hemry Ammon James, Yale College Class of 1874, 1870-1912 (copyright expired)

Attorney Henry Ammon James was a widower.  Born in Baltimore on April 24, 1854, he was educated by a private tutor before entering Yale.  He married Laura Brevoort Sedgwick on September 21, 1891 and they had two children, Dorothy, born in 1892, and William Ellery Sedgwick, born in 1895.  Laura died on November 1, 1907.  

In addition to his law practice, James was the president of the East Hampton Electric Light Company.  The family's country home, which Henry and Laura built the year they were married, was in East Hampton, Long Island.  

A postcard depicts the James' sprawling, shingle-style summer house.

William Ellery Sedgwick James went by Ellery.  When the family moved into the remodeled mansion, he was attending Yale University.  He and Louise R. Hoadley were engaged to be married in Southampton in June 1917, but, as was the case with hundreds of couples across the country, the war in Europe changed their plans.  On April 14, 1917, The New York Times said, "as Mr. James has joined the officers' reserve corps of Yale University the date for the wedding has been advanced."  The couple was married in St. Bartholomew's Church on April 25.

The war did not interrupt Ellery's schooling and he graduated later that year.  But shortly afterward he left his bride at home and went overseas with the American Expeditionary Force.  He would see battle in France with the 324th Field Artillery.

Sterner placed the service entrance in the northern extension, directly under the conservatory.  The American Architect, December 12, 1916 (copyright expired.

Dorothy's engagement to George Griswold Haven was announced on February 2, 1925.  It would be an extremely short engagement.  Three days later, The New York Times reported that the couple had been married the previous morning in St. George's Church.  "When Mr. and Mrs. Haven return from a wedding trip they will live at 6 East Fifth-third Street, which has been Mr. Haven's home for many years," said the article.  George G. Haven was the president of the Metropolitan Opera House Real Estate Company and the senior member of the banking form of Strong, Sturgis & Co.  Dorothy was his second wife, his first having died a few years earlier.

Thousands of diamond shaped panes composed the openings.  The American Architect, December 12, 1916 (copyright expired)

Five months later, on July 21, 1925, George and Dorothy had breakfast in their East 53rd Street mansion at 8:00.  Afterward, Dorothy left to go shopping.  An old friend, Dr. E. Eliot, stopped by unannounced at around 10:30.  The butler informed him that George was in his room.  "I'll go up and see him," responded Eliot.  He entered the bedroom to find George's body on the bed.  The New York Times reported, "He had shot himself through the jaw.  The bullet had lodged in the brain, killing him instantly."

Henry Ammon James died at the East Hampton estate on the afternoon of August 2, 1929 "after a long illness," as reported by The New York Times.  The newspaper noted that he "was a member of the University, Century, Metropolitan, Maidstone, Garden City, National Golf and Jekyll Island clubs."

James left an estate, according to The New York Times, of $2,993,392, or about $57.7 million today.  The bulk of the estate was divided, essentially, equally between Dorothy and Ellery, although Ellery received the Park Avenue mansion and its contents.

Two months later, on October 1, The New York Times reported that Ellery had purchased the abutting house at 103 East 71st Street.  The move was potentially intended to protect the mansion from developers.  But if that were the case, James changed his mind.

In August 1930, he sold the corner properties to developer Michael E. Paterno.  The New York Times reported that he intended to erect an apartment building on the site.  

William Ellery Sedgwick James died at the age of 37 on November 26, 1932.  

Seven years later, the syndicate named 737 Park Avenue Corporation had acquired the additional properties necessary to go forward with the apartment building project.  On November 25, 1939, The New York Times reported that workers "started this week to demolish six old private residences to make way for an eighteen-story apartment house which will go up on that corner."  Designed by Sylvan Bien, the replacement structure was completed in 1940.

photo by Godsfriendchuck

many thanks to Doug Wheeler for suggesting this post

The Mori Restaurant Building - 144-146 Bleecker Street

 

In 1830, Thomas E. Davis began erecting what would be fashionable homes on both sides of Bleecker Street between Thompson and Laurens Street (later West Broadway and then LaGuardia Place).  As they neared completion in 1831, he began a similar project, lining both sides of East 8th Street between Second and Third Avenues with upscale residences.  A consummate marketer, he lobbied the city to rename the two blocks, hoping to enhance their sense of exclusivity.  In 1833 his Bleecker Street block was renamed Carroll Place, and in 1835 the East 8th Street block became St. Mark's Place.

Each of the Carroll Place homes was 25-feet wide and three-and-a-half stories tall.  In February 1833, just before 146 Bleecker Street was renumbered 7 Carroll Place, an advertisement in The Evening Post offered the house for rent:

The house was erected in 1830, in the most elegant and substantial manner, and is three stories high, of brick and slated roof.  There is a building in the rear containing a tea room and library, and a well and cistern in the yard.  The house is every way calculated for a large and fashionable private family.

That house saw a relatively rapid turnover in well-to-do tenants until it was sold for $10,000 to Dr. William R. Power in January 1845.  The price, equal to about $430,000 in 2026, reflected the exclusivity of the block.

Power was born in Ireland in 1798 and was described as a "distinguished practitioner."  His wife, the former Mercy Hepburn, had recently died and his purchasing of 7 Carroll Place might have had much do to with his marital plans.  He married Aliana Diane Worthington in 1846.

Although William had no children with either of his wives, in 1857 lawyer John T. Power was listed at the address.  He was presumably a relative.

William R. Power died "after a short but severe illness," according to the New-York Daily Tribune, on September 14, 1858.  His funeral was held in the parlor on the 16th.

Aliana Power left Carroll Place shortly afterward.  An auction of the furnishings held on March 8, 1859, hinted at the high-end lifestyles of the Carroll Place residents.  Included were "rosewood parlor suits, covered in rich silk brocatel and plush...Chinese china vases, chandeliers, sideboard, morocco arm chairs," and such.

In the meantime, the house next door at 5 Carroll Street was originally home to the Henry Floyd Tallmage family.  Born in Connecticut on June 11, 1787, he and his wife, Maria Canfield Adams, had five children.   The family sold the house to Dr. John Augustine Smith on April 15, 1841.

Born in 1782, Smith had served as president of the College of William & Mary from 1814 to 1826.  (He resigned when his proposal to move the college from Richmond to Williamsburg was refused.)  Now back in New York City, he became president of the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1831.

Dr. John Augustine Smith, from the collection of the New York Society Library

Smith married Lettice Lee in 1809 and they had five children, at least one of whom, Richard Augustine (who went by his middle name), lived with his parents.  Augustine was in the paper business on Nassau Street.

In addition to his practice and his lecturing on anatomy at the College of Physicians and Surgeons, Dr. Smith edited the Medical and Physiological Journal.  Among his works were the 1840 Select Discourse on the Functions of the Nervous System, his 1846 The Mutations of the Earth, and Moral and Physical Science, published in 1853.  Notably, he was an outspoken supporter of scientific racism, that used phrenology (the "science" of reading bumps on one's skull) to rationalize white supremacy.  He was a vocal exponent of repatriating Blacks to Africa. 

By the outbreak of the Civil War, things had changed in the neighborhood.  No longer ultra-fashionable, affluent residents left Carroll Place and in 1860 the block reverted to Bleecker Street (although both addresses would be used for some time).  In 1861, rented rooms were being offered in both 144 and 146 Bleecker Street.

In 1870, Thomas N. and William B. Doutney established an "eatinghouse," The St. Lawrence, in the basement of 144 Bleecker Street.   Unfortunately, as Thomas recalls in his 1893 autobiography Thomas N. Doutney: His Life-Struggle and Triumphs:

I listened to the bad advice of a dissolute companion, and introduced liquor on my premises, first secretly, then openly, as an article of traffic.  In short, my restaurant became, what too many restaurants already are, a drinking-saloon, a cursed rum-shop.

Thomas and his "dear, good brother William," lost the business.  The saloon was taken over by Korne & Bere.  

In the meantime, the conditions within the rented rooms of the once-luxurious mansions were ghastly.  An article in the New York Herald on February 7, 1871 described the plight of a "woman and five little children at No. 144 Bleecker street."  The journalist said, "No food or fuel has been seen in the little room which these miserable ones occupy for several days, and yesterday the mother, rendered desperate, attempted suicide."

On July 20, 1896, the New York Journal reported, "Women, some of them wives and mothers, who had been caught in the raid on the pool room [an illegal race betting den] at No. 146 Bleecker street, Saturday night, were prisoners in the Jefferson Market Court yesterday."  Prior to the time of the article, the parlor windows of the house had been replaced by bay windows, as noted in a sketch in the article.

In 1896, an illegal betting den occupied the basement of 146 Bleecker.  The elegant Federal doorway was intact, and bay windows had been added, most likely prior to 1861.  New York Journal, July 20, 1896 (copyright expired)

In 1884, a year after arriving in New York City from Florence, Italy, Placido Mori opened his "eating place" in the former Korne & Bere saloon space in 144 Bleecker Street.  The Journal described Mori & Lorenzi's cafe in 1896 as "a cheap restaurant and drinking place much frequented by the Italians of the district."

It became a meeting place for labor and political groups.  On November 24, 1891, for instance, The Evening World remarked, "The Columbus Labor Club, cloak makers...has its headquarters at present at 144 Bleecker street."  On October 27, 1898, the Third Assembly District Republicans held an "Italian parade through the Italian colony and a meeting at 144 Bleecker street," as reported by The Sun.

In November 1900, authorities refused to allow the play Senza Patria (or Without a Country), written by anarchist Pietro Gori, to open.  Throngs of angry native Italians, many of them anarchists, rebelled.  The New York Times reported, "The Anarchists then held an impromptu indignation meeting on the sidewalk, and then several hundred went to Mori & Lorenzi's café, 144 Bleecker Street, which was by common consent designated as a meeting place."

No. 144 was sold several times before Mori purchased the building in 1910.  The Italian immigrant had done well for himself.  On April 23, 1920, the New York Herald reported, "Placido Mori is the buyer of the residence at 21 Washington Square North."  It was one of the most fashionable addresses in New York City.

Among Mori's regular patrons at the time was architect Raymond Hood.  Their close owner-patron relationship would soon become owner-client.  On December 12, 1920, The New York Times reported that Placido Mori "recently bought the adjoining parcel at 146 to add to his establishment.  The article mulled, "The supporters of prohibition may discern in this fact that the prevention of serving red wine, without which no Italian restaurant meal was supposed to be complete...has not yet driven the habitués of these eating places to other resorts."

Mori hired Raymond Hood to combine the houses and remodel the exterior.  He placed a row of Doric columns along the sidewalk level and added a setback penthouse.

Famed photographer Berenice Abbott took this photograph in November 1935.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The observation made by The New York Times that Prohibition had not affected the Italian restaurant was premature.  As it turned out, Mori went on dispensing alcoholic beverages.  On September 16, 1922, the newspaper reported that Prohibition Chief John D. Appleby "sent seven general dry agents yesterday afternoon to Mori's Restaurant."

In the room in the rear of the second floor the agents seized a large quantity of liquors, wines and beer.  The agents said they never saw a more sorrowful staff of waiters than they passed in the dining room as the seized goods were carried out.  The sight of good wines leaving the restaurant, famous in the days gone by for its wine, was more than some of the waiters could stand.

Only four months later, on January 15, 1923, The New York Times reported on another raid.  After seizing 58 bottles of wine and ten bottles of whisky, Placido Mori was arrested.  The article said that police "then went upstairs to the apartment of Louis Funai...from which they took away 18 bottles of champagne, 247 bottles of wine, 15 bottles of gin, 4 bottles of kimmel [sic] and one gallon of wine."

Placido Mori died on July 18, 1927.  In reporting his death, The New York Times remarked that his restaurant "had become noted as a picturesque resort."

Living upstairs at the time was sculptor Thomas Hudson Jones.  He and architect Lorimer Rich were cooperatively working on designs for the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington.  Jones was still living here in December 1928 when Secretary of War Dwight F. Davis announced that their design had been accepted.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Albert Mori operated the restaurant until January 1938, when he filed for bankruptcy.  The New York Times remarked, "The restaurant started as a small bar and eating place.  It expanded until it finally occupied the entire building, a rambling, old-fashioned structure."

The space became Free World House as early as 1944, operated by the International Free World Association.  On June 4, 1944, the group announced that a program of "democratic principles for Europe" would be put into effect "as soon as the Allied armies invade the continent."  A less political event had taken place a month earlier when, on May 28, The New York Times reported, "The second open show of the Village Art Center is current[ly] at Free World House...with more than a hundred oils, water-colors and drawings, by almost as many artists."

It was possibly during the occupancy of the anti-Fascist International Free World Association that five murals by Louis Quintanilla were installed.  Quintanilla arrived in New York in 1938 to create his grouping, called Love Peace Hate War.  (Somewhat ironically, he was the house guest of war correspondent Jay Allen in Placido Mori's former home on Washington Square.)  The paintings were commissioned by the Spanish Government for the Spanish Pavilion of the 1939 World's Fair.  The individual panels were Flight, Pain, Hunger, Soldiers and Destruction.

But the artwork would never be exhibited at the fair.  The Spanish Republic fell and the Fascist Francisco Franco regime demanded that the paintings be returned to Spain.  Reportedly, Quintanilla told officials that a flood in his studio had destroyed the panels.  It appears that he sold or donated the works to the Free World House.

Quintanilla's Hunger (top) and Soldiers, were two of the panels installed at Free World House.  images from The Art and World of Louis Quintanilla

The Free World House remained here until 1956, when the building was converted to the Renata Theatre in the lower two floors and apartments and offices on the top two.  As construction neared completion on November 14, 1956, The New York Times explained that the venue would present "contemporary European plays."  The auditorium would hold an audience of 250.

Among the last performances in the Renata Theatre was a one-person production, An Evening With Ethel Waters, described by The New York Times on April 9, 1959 as a "musical memory."

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

Within a year, the space had been converted to a movie theater, the Bleecker Street Cinema.  It was a neighborhood fixture for decades, finally closing in August 1989.  On November 4 the following year, The New York Times columnist Christopher Gray mentioned, "It is now a gay porno house."

It was during that rather seedy period that the Quintanilla murals were "rediscovered."  On one of the panels, a black arrow reading "Exit" had been scrawled.  According to the artist's son, Paul, "In the early nineties an attempt was made to retrieve them, but the amount of money offered didn't satisfy the owner of the pornographic movie house."  The paintings, therefore, remained in abused condition until February 2, 2007 when the University of Cantabria in Santander, Spain purchased them.  They were restored and now hang at the university. 

The ground floor space became the Elbow Room around 1997.  Offering live music, it remained into the 2000s.  A renovation to the storied building in 2011 resulted in retail space on the ground floor and apartments above.

photographs by the author