The 1860 Joseph Murray House - 175 East 73rd Street

 

image via douglaselliman.com

In 1860, E. H. Robbins completed construction of six 20-foot-wide rowhouses on East 73rd Street between Lexington and Third Avenues.  Three stories tall above English basements, they were clad in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Although they were intended for middle-class families, Robbins splurged by giving the homes elaborate cast iron porches.  The parlor level featured floor-to-ceiling parlor windows and the scalloped fascia of the cornice echoed the segmentally arched windows of the third floor.

In 1862, Joseph Murray, who listed his profession as "machinery" at 126 Broadway, purchased 22 East 73rd Street (renumbered 175 in 1867).  The Murray family took in at least one boarder during their residency.  John Callaghan, possibly a relative, lived here in 1868.

On February 15, 1873, the New-York Tribune reported that Joseph Murray had sold 175 East 73rd Street for $15,500.  The price would translate to about $430,000 in 2026.  The buyers were Dr. Charles Smith Robert and his wife, the former Adelina Trudeau.  The couple was married on January 29, 1867 and had four children: Mary, who was six; five-year-old Lelia Adelina; Francis Berger, who was three; and Caroline Elizabeth, who was one year old.

Robert was born in Mastic, Long Island on March 5, 1839.  He entered Yale College in 1858, but left during his junior year to pursue medicine.  He graduated from the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1864, just in time to serve in the Union Army as an assistant surgeon.  The New York Herald would later remark, "Mrs. Roberts [sic] is an unusually refined and accomplished woman of French extraction."

Like their neighbors, the Robert family maintained a domestic staff.  In 1875, they employed a laundress, a cook and a nurse.  The staff undoubtedly also included at least one maid, and likely two.  The Robert family's country home was in Westport, Connecticut.  

In April 1875, Robert listed the Westport estate for rent.  Simultaneously, three domestics advertised for new positions.  The moves suggested that the Robert family would be spending an extended period away, possibly in Europe.  (Families who were away for extended periods often dismissed their domestic staffs, other than the lady's maid and valet, to be replaced upon their return.)

A spectacular cast iron porch, like the surviving example at 171 East 73rd Street, once fronted the parlor of No. 175.  photograph by the author

While the Roberts were away, 175 East 73rd Street was occupied by the John S. Patterson family.  Patterson was a lawyer and he and his wife, Emily, would be here through 1877.  During their residency, they experienced a tragedy.  On May 4, 1876, their son William Fisher died at the age of 27.  His funeral was held in the parlor on May 6.

The Roberts continued to lease 175 East 73rd Street.  Following the Pattersons, Baptiste E. Wehner, who ran a storage warehouse on West 33rd Street, occupied the house.  And in May 1880, Charles Robert leased it to Jacob Thalman.  By the time the Robert family returned to 175 East 73rd Street in the mid-1880s, Robert had retired.  

On October 9, 1889, Leila Adelina was married to Charles H. Hallock.  The newlyweds moved to Moriches, Long Island, where they had a daughter. 

Leila's marriage would not survive.  According to Hallock in September 1893, "We were very happy until last January, although we had occasional 'spats.'  About the middle of that month I noticed that she had changed in her manner toward me."  Leila began spending time away from their home, traveling to Manhattan to visit her parents or to Brooklyn to see other relatives.  Hallock became suspicious that her frequent trips were not innocent when she talked in her sleep about "Bert."

The relationship continued to devolve.  Hallock said later, "She finally locked me out of our house on one occasion.  Then she blackened my eyes, and once said she wished our three-year-old child was dead."  Leila perceived an escape from her situation in the summer of 1893 when she received $1,800 from the estate of an aunt.  She told Charles that she was going to the Chicago World's Fair, packed her suitcases, and on September 2 he drove her to the train station.

Leila joined Berthold Popper, an usher in the Academy of Music, and the two went on to Chicago.  Leila's relationship with Popper was even shorter than that with her husband.  Once there, Popper abandoned her.  On September 6, 1893, just days after arriving in Chicago, Leila Robert Hallock "blew her brains out," as worded by the New York Press.  

Charles Hallock begrudgingly told the New York Herald, "She has dishonored my name, but I shall probably have her body brought here and buried in the graveyard at Center Moriches, where her father has a plot."  (Berthold Popper was convicted  of "illegally marrying Mrs. Leila Hallock" on March 22, 1894.)

Shortly after the tragedy, the Roberts sold 175 East 73rd Street to Daniel Healey.  Their decision was, no doubt, influenced by the many stables that were replacing the private homes along the block.  Healey was a blacksmith and on July 22, 1896, The New York Times reported that he was making $700 in alterations to the house.  The basement was now converted to a blacksmith shop, a convenience for the nearby carriage houses and stables.

Living above a commercial space did not deter Tracy and Frances Lyon.  Born in 1865 and 1866 respectively, the couple had four adult children.  The affluence and social standing of the family was evidenced in daughter Frances Tracy Lyon's wedding to Sidney E. Brewster on October 17, 1923.  The New York Times said the newlyweds were "socially prominent," noting that Frances was a member of the Junior League and Brewster was a descendant of Elder William Brewster of the Mayflower.

Like Leila Robert Hallock, Frances and her husband moved to Long Island.  And like Leila, Frances's marriage would end tragically.  At around 7:00 on the evening of June 22, 1926, Frances telephoned her parents.  The New York Times reported, "She told her mother that her husband had beaten her and that she was going to come home."  The servants told investigators later that "a quarrel had been going on all day."  Then, shortly after Frances called her parents, the servants heard shots.  They rushed to Frances's bedroom to find both of their employers dead.  Brewster had shot his wife in the chest then turned the gun onto himself.

In June 1928, architect Francis Livingston Pell purchased 174 East 73rd Street.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted, "After extensive alterations the purchaser will use the property for his own occupancy."  That was partially true.  Pell's alterations resulting in a "store" in the basement level, one apartment each at the parlor and second floor, and a "non-housekeeping apartment" on the third.  (The term meant there was no kitchen.) 

The cast iron porch was removed in the renovations.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Pells moved into one of the apartments.  Born on September 23, 1873, Pell was a descendant of founding father James Duane.  He studied architecture in Rome and Paris after receiving his Ph.B. in architecture from the Columbia University School of Mines in 1895.  He married Ellen Van Buren Morris on October 9, 1899.  Her pedigree matched that of her husband.  The daughter of Stuyvesant Fish Morris and Ellen James Van Buren, she descended from the Fish, Morris and Stuyvesant families and was the great-granddaughter of President Martin Van Buren.  They had three sons, Francis Jr., Stuyvesant Morris, and Walden.  Their country home was in the Lenox, Massachusetts.

The occupants of the "non-housekeeping" apartment were equally prominent.  Anna Giralt Farrar Goldsborough was born in New Orleans in 1882.  She married Richard Francis Goldsborough in 1904 and had four children.  She and her unmarried daughters, Lucinda Davis and Ellen Roy, moved into the top floor apartment following Richard Goldsborough death in 1929.  

When Anna Goldsborough announced Lucinda's engagement to William Fitz-Randolph Ballard on December 14, 1929, The New York Times remarked that Lucinda was a great-grandniece of Jefferson Davis and was "a direct descendant of Nicholas Goldsborough, who settled [in] Maryland in the middle of the seventeenth century" and of Colonel Tench Tilghman, "aide-de-camp to George Washington."

Five years later, on March 8, 1934, Anna Goldsborough announced Ellen Roy's engagement to Talbot Otis Freeman.  Almost simultaneously, the Pells announced Stuyvesant Morris Pell's engagement to Katherine Louise Weston.  As Stuyvesant's marriage in Dalton, Massachusetts neared on December 19, 1935, The New York Evening Post said, "there is much interest in the event among local fashionables and members of the exclusive little coterie that make up the Berkshires colony."

The Pell and Weston families were apparently already close.  Two years after the wedding, the bride's mother was a long-term houseguest here.  On October 29, 1936, The New York Sun reported that Clarissa Wardwell Hewlett "is now residing with Mr. and Mrs. F. Livingston Pell at 175 East Seventy-third street."

In 1940 Pell converted the the basement into half of a duplex apartment with the parlor level.  At the same time, the third floor apartment received a kitchen.  The Pells remained here until April 1944, when they sold the property to Wooster Properties, Inc.  The firm resold it in May the following year to a investor.

The house was sold in 1978 for $170,000, according to Observer.  A renovation completed the following year resulted in four cooperative duplexes.  During the remodeling, the parlor and second-floor windows were shortened.  

An out-of-focus 1980 tax photo reveals the shortened parlor windows.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In July 2006, fashion designer Steve Madden and his wife, Wendy Ballew, purchased the the rear, lower duplex for $3.6 million.  Three years later, they bought an upper apartment for $2.2 million.  In 2010 they purchased another, and in February 2011 bought the last apartment, now owning the entire property.  The Maddens returned 175 East 73rd Street to a single-family home.  They remained here until 2019, selling it for $9.1 million according to The New York Post on January 23.

Max Muller's 1905 169 Rivington Street

photograph by Carole Teller

As early as 1904, Dr. Moses Duckman and his family shared their home at 169 Rivington Street with Professor Abraham Hochman.  Born in 1868, Duckman and his wife, Rebecca, had four daughters, Miriam, Naomi, Ethel and Grace, and two sons, Simon and Bert.

Abraham Hochman was a local celebrity of sorts.  His "professor" title did not come from his teaching, but his purported extraordinary powers.  He was a clairvoyant.  On May 3, 1904, for instance, he appeared in the Essex Market police court to give bail for one of seven men arrested for burglary.  The magistrate asked, "What is your business?"

Hochman replied, "I am a mind reader.  I am Professor Abram Hochman of 169 Rivington Street."  He explained to the magistrate that he had read the accused's mind and knew that, while he was in the room at the time of the crime, he was not a part of it.  He added:

"I can also read your mind.  You will discharge him when the case comes up before you tomorrow.  Therefore, I have no hesitation on going on his bond.  If he were guilty, I would know it and I would not bail him.

The Duckmans and Hochman would have to find temporary accommodations soon after that encounter.  Moses Duckman acquired the property next door at 171 Rivington Street, demolished both structures, and hired architect Max Muller to design a store-and-tenement building on the site. 

Completed in 1905, the 40-foot-wide building rose five stories above a basement.  The basement's notable height accommodated two commercial spaces that flanked the stone stoop.  Muller faced the upper floors with variegated beige brick and cream-colored terra cotta.  Molded intermediate cornices divided the facade into three sections.  Terra cotta was molded into elaborate Italian Renaissance-style ornamentation including Scamozzi columns with intricate bases on either side of the entrance, paneled Corinthian piers that framed the first floor windows, elaborate faux balconies with triangular pediments at the second floor, and arched pediments embellished with ornate cartouches at the fourth.

Among Duckman's first tenants was, perhaps not surprisingly, Professor Abram Hochman.  He had barely settled into his new home when he appeared in newsprint again.  On May 23 the stable of Abraham Baumwald, a peddler, was broken into and his horse and wagon were stolen.  The theft put Baumwald out of business.  On June 1, The Sun reported, "On Tuesday night a man with long hair, who announced himself as Prof. Hochman of 169 Rivington street, went to the station house and said to the sergeant in charge: 'I know where Baumwald's horse is.'"

Upon questioning, Hochman explained, "I read it by my mind."  Police did not scoff at the revelation.  Hochman's reputation was well established.  They went to 136 Hester Street, as Hochman directed, and found Baumwald's stolen horse.

Hochman's talents were more often used for finding husbands than for stolen horses.  In her 2024 Mortimer and the Witches, Marie Carter writes that Hochman was referred to as "The Richest Man on Rivington Street" and explains, "Thanks to Hochman's affordable fees and high success rates, the press often reported he was trailed by 'wildly gesticulating women.'"

Professor Abraham Hochman, The Jewish Calendar 1910 (copyright expired)

Professor Abraham Hochman's visions and predictions ran the gambit.  He accurately predicted the winners of upcoming horse races for members of his club, the Florrie Sullivan Association; foretold Theodore Roosevelt's victory over Alton B. Parker in the 1904 Presidential election; and predicted the Japanese victory over Russia in the 1904 Russo-Japanese War.

On February 24, 1906, the New-York Tribune reported, "Dr. Moses Duckman transferred title as a gift yesterday to Nos. 169 and 171 Rivington-st...to Rebecca Duckman his wife."  It was around the same time that the Duckman family moved to Brooklyn.

Elaborate terra cotta Renaissance Revival details embellish the building.  photograph by Carole Teller

Nathan Flauman's saloon occupied one of the basement spaces as early as 1909, and he and his family lived in one of the upstairs apartments.  At the same time, Abraham Goldman and his son, Louis, ran a clothing business in Brooklyn.  According to Assistant District Attorney Wasservogel later, "the two were hard pressed for money and in some way ascertained that Nathan Flauman, a wealthy saloon keeper, at No. 169 Rivington street, was seeking a husband for his only daughter, Mary."  The younger Goldman, who was married with three children, posed as an eligible bachelor and "ingratiated himself into Father Flauman's good graces and offered himself as a husband for his daughter," as reported by The Evening World.

The couple became engaged and Flauman held an engagement party on July 13, 1909.  Before Nathan Flauman and the heart-broken Mary discovered the scheme, he had given Louis Goldman $1,500--nearly $55,000 in 2026 money.  Flauman had him arrested for grand larceny.  While the jury acquitted Abraham Goldman, Louis was convicted.

The incident was not the last time that the trusting saloon keeper was bamboozled.  On March 31, 1910, Jacob Bellis, aka Max Blumfield, entered the saloon carrying a machine.  He told Nathan Flauman that the contraption would produce money.  To prove it, Bellis placed a blank piece of paper into the machine, poured in some chemicals, and turned the crank.  The New York Times reported, "In a few minutes a crisp $10 bill came out."  He repeated the demonstration and Flauman became interested.  Bellis then set his hook.  He took out a $100 bill, placed it into the machine with a sheet of paper, turned the crank and the original rolled out along with a new bill.

The New York Times reported, "As Flouman [sic] was suspicious; Bellis took him to a bank, where he changed the two $100 bills."  The Evening World said, "So Flauman beat it to the Fourteenth Street Bank and reduced the deposits of that institution by $4,780, his entire balance.  Then Miss Mary dug into her own lisle thread safe deposit vault and came to the front with $200 more."  That evening Bellis and his partner arrived at the Flaumans' apartment.  As the accomplice dickered over the machine, he held up the sponge soaked with chemicals and said to the family, "Just smell this; hasn't it a sweet odor?"

The Evening World reported, "It had.  It was chloroform, and straightway the family went into its golden dream.  When it awoke both the money and men were gone.  Adding insult to injury, they even took along the furniture."

Mary Flauman went to the police, but got no results.  Then, a year later, she saw Bellis and a woman on Third Avenue near 14th Street.  "He took to his heels down Second Avenue," reported The New York Times.  Mary chased after him, shouting.  A crowd caught him, reported The Evening World on April 6, 1911, noting, "If he is convicted he may get twenty years."

Two months earlier, Abram Hochman had again faced a judge, but this time in his own defense.  On February 22, 1911, Detective Szerlip told Magistrate Breen "that Hochman had told him that we would be the recipient of a large sum of money from the estate of his deceased uncle and that this money would come to him quicker if [he] would throw a match over his shoulder and think of his father," as reported by the New York Herald.  Hochman was accused by the detective of being a fortune teller.

This time, Hochman did not profess extrasensory powers.  The New York Herald recounted, "Hochman said that his business was publishing rather than fortune telling and that he was the publisher of a book entitled 'The Jewish Almanac,' which was in the libraries of the New York University, Yale and other institutions."  He denied ever telling Szerlip about his upcoming windfall.  Hochman's sister, Eugenia, corroborated his testimony.  Magistrate Appleton dismissed the case for insufficient evidence.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Insurance broker Maylich Breihart and his wife, Bertha, moved into 169 Rivington Street around 1918.  They had two sons, Bernard and Charles, and two daughters, Pauline and Sadie.  The enterprising couple filed bankruptcy separately on December 18, that year, but they were not defeated.  On January 8, 1920, Maylich was one of three partners who incorporated the Clibart Realty Corporation.  He was highly involved in Jewish charities and organizations, with memberships in a dozen groups including the Burshtiner Sick and Benevolent Society, the Home of the Sons and Daughters of Israel, and the Independent Kalischer Sick and Benevolent Society.

Bertha Briethard died at the age of 64 on January 18, 1921.  Her funeral was held in their apartment the following day.  Maylich survived her by a year, dying of pneumonia at the age of 65 in Mt. Sinai Hospital on May 21, 1922.  His funeral, too, was held in the apartment.

As early as 1923, the office of attorney Eugene Moss occupied one of the commercial spaces.  He was admitted to the bar in 1921 and would practice here at least through 1931.

At midcentury, Samuel Braun was the landlord of 169 Rivington Street.  He owned three other buildings in the Lower East Side.  On March 29, 1960, he was fined $400 "for permitting a defective gas range and for failure to provide proper heat" at 169 Rivington Street, as reported by The New York Times.  This was not the first time that Braun had been in trouble.  The article said that the previous year he had been cited for "fraudulently applying for rent increases" and "has had thirteen previous convictions for Health Code violations."

photograph by Carole Teller

There are 12 residential units in 169 Rivington Street today.  Max Muller's dignified treatment of a tenement building survives essentially intact, all the while masking the astonishing history that has played out inside.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1891 Alberta Apartments - 202 West 81st Street

 

Born in Funchal, Portugal in 1838 and a veteran of the Civil War, George W. Da Cunha lived with his wife, Rosina, in New Jersey in the last quarter of the 19th century.  But that did not stop him from designing and erecting some of the most notable Manhattan buildings of the period.  Looking back at his early career in 1917, The Montclair Times recalled that he "built a number of buildings which at that time attracted considerable attention for originality of design and style of construction."

In 1891, Da Cunha acquired the lots at 202 and 204 West 81st Street and filed plans for "two five-story and stone flats" on the site.  Each of them was projected to cost $40,000 to construct, or about $1.46 million in 2026 terms.  The project was a husband-and-wife effort, with Rosina W. Da Cunha listed as the owner of record.

Completed within the year, the two buildings--The Alberta and The Madria--were distinctly different.  The Alberta at 202 West 81st Street was designed in the Romanesque Revival style with light-hearted touches of Queen Anne.  Its double-doored entrance sat within a yawning maw above a four-step stoop.  It was flanked by large gas lanterns supported by ornate cast iron brackets.  The first and second floors were faced in rough cut brownstone.  The paired windows of the first floor were fronted with half-bowls carved with Romanesque designs.  Small Queen Anne-style panes outlined the upper half of the second floor openings.

Impressive gas lanterns flank the arched entrance.  The transoms of the first-floor windows most likely held stained glass.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The upper three floors were faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Queen Anne and Romanesque Revival coexisted at the top floor.  Here the stone corner ornament and the arched eyebrows that rested on an intricately carved bandcourse were purely Romanesque Revival.  The small window panes, the offset gable, and the terra cotta fans within the tympanums were Queen Anne.

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

An advertisement offered, "seven and eight rooms to a suite; all improvements; decorated, steam heat, hot water; furnished and hall attendance."  It boasted that the parlors were finished "in white and gold."  Rents ranged from $55 to $75 (nearly $3,000 per month in today's terms for the most expensive).

Among the early tenants were Dr. Rollin B. Gray and his wife, the former Lydia Dutcher Whitney.  Born in Randolph, Pennsylvania in 1840, Gray received his medical degree from the Homoeopathic College of New York in 1871.  He and Lydia had two children, Anita and Marian.  (Two other daughters, Lillian and Elizabeth had died at the ages of five and one, respectively.)

Dr. Rolling B. Gray, from Gray Genealogy, 1887 (copyright expired)

Several years after moving into The Alberta, Dr. Gray caused panic among mothers and nannies throughout the Upper East and West Sides.  On June 30, 1901, the New-York Tribune began an article saying, "Dr. Rollin B. Gray, who for years has had a practice among people on the west side of Central Park, says that Manhattan's great breathing space is a bad place to take young children, because of malaria."  Gray had convened reporters to his office here to sound the alarm.  He told them that in the past few days he had treated two babies who "were stricken with malaria while being wheeled through the park."  Gray explained that mosquitoes, which carried the disease, were breeding in the stagnant pools and decayed vegetation of the park.

He quickly faced vehement opposition.  One park policeman told a reporter from the New-York Tribune, "This is the greatest place for babies that ever was.  They thrive on the fresh air and enjoy the shade just as much as older people.  Thousands of babies are brought here every day.  Do you suppose that we would not have heard of it before if the park was reeking with malaria?"  A more authoritative opinion came from the Board of Health.  While admitting that there were mosquitoes in the park, an official said that "Central Park mosquitoes are not the malaria carrying kind."  The article added, "the officers say that Manhattan is remarkably free from the disease."

In the meantime, the residents of The Alberta were, like the Grays, upper-middle class.  Each of the families had at least one servant.  On September 24, 1899, for instance, one resident advertised for a "competent and reliable German governess."

The Alberta was purchased in 1901 by the wife of James Daniel.  Daniel was described by the New York Herald as "a traveling salesman for a stove company," and his wife, said The New York Times, "is said to be wealthy."  The couple, who had a rocky relationship, moved into an apartment here.

According to Mrs. Daniel, her husband "was a hard drinker and went on sprees two or three times a month," recounted The New York Times.  She said, "when in this condition he usually went to stay with his friend [William H.] Messenger.  He was never violent when drunk, but simply had the good taste to stay away from home until sober."  

And so, when James did not return home on the night of August 17, 1903 and was still absent five days later, Mrs. Daniel was not especially concerned.  And, indeed, during that period James Daniel was staying with William Messenger on East 138th Street.  On August 21, the two went to Coney Island, where they continued their week-long bender.  When they returned to Manhattan, reported the New York Herald, "they decided not to go directly to Messenger's room, but to rest at the pier at the foot of East 132nd Street."  The drunken men were "skylarking," according to witnesses.  Suddenly, the 36-year-old Daniel jumped into the water "clothes and all."

After swimming around for a few minutes, Daniel was not able to climb out of the water.  The New York Herald said he "tried to cling to the piles supporting the piers."  By the time policemen jumped in to rescue him, it was too late.  James Daniel was pulled from the water unconscious and died shortly afterward.  (Messenger was arrested for intoxication.)

Police went to The Alberta apartment to notify his wife.  (The New York Times parenthetically said it "is a handsome four-story [sic] structure built for private apartments and the property of Mrs. Daniel).  The newspaper said she "didn't seem much surprised."

Typical of the residents at the time of Daniel's death was financier Edward R. Holden, the head of E. R. Holden & Co., and an owner of a mine and a smeltery. 

The building continued to attract upper-middle-class residents.  On January 29, 1911, for instance, The New York Times reported, "The Misses McCarthy, 202 West Eighty-first Street, gave a musicale on Thursday evening at their home."  

Among the sisters' neighbors in the building at the time was Brigadier General Franclyn Elbert Davis.  Born in Brooklyn in 1858, he received a bachelor's degree from St. John's College, a Ph.G. from the Massachusetts College of Pharmacy, and a medical degree from the University of Victoria Medical College.  His astounding resume included military surgeon, pharmacist, director of the National Volunteer Emergency Services, and author.  The 1916 One Thousand American Men of Mark Today said, "He has traveled all over the world, and was the first man to introduce into this country serums from the Institut Pasteur, Paris, and to introduce oxygen apparatus for the life saving of the miners."

Around 1912, the building was renamed The Maryland.  The residents continued to be respectable and upstanding.  Living here by 1918 were clergyman and poet James Benjamin Kenyon and his wife, the former Margaret Jane Taylor.  Born in 1858 in Frankfort, New York, he entered the Methodist Episcopal ministry in 1878.  Among his books of poetry were the 1887 In Realms of Gold; At the Gate of Dreams, published in 1892; and the 1895 An Oaten Pipe.

The post-World War I years brought a more working class tenant list.  Living here in 1921 were Robert Ryan, a "night worker," as described by The Evening World, and his wife.  The couple had a serious scare that year.  On the morning of November 15, Ryan returned from work to find his wife in convulsions.  She told him that she "had taken bichloride of mercury by mistake."  The Evening World reported, "She was taken to the Knickerbocker Hospital and is expected to recover."

The once sprawling apartments were dissected into rented rooms as early as 1923.  On September 12 that year, Detectives Martin Owens, Thomas Horan and John Cronin followed Irving Cohan and Joseph Levine, who were suspected in an armed robbery, to a third floor apartment.  When no one answered their knock, Horan and Cronin waited in the hallway while Owens went to the roof, climbed down the rear fire escape and entered through a window.  He opened the door for his partners.  The New York Times reported, "The air was acrid with fumes from a quantity of opium simmering on a gas burner.  A complete opium layout was found on a table."

The detectives arrested Esther Kaplan, a.k.a. Newberg, and five men.  In addition to the opium and equipment, they discovered two firearms.  "Both were fully loaded, and the lead bullets in the revolver were criss-crossed with lines to cause them to mushroom upon impact," said the article.

The following year, resident Benedict Radus, who listed his profession as a real estate agent, was arrested with three other men in a conspiracy to rob wealthy Dr. Hugo J. Loebinger.  Radus told the doctor he could acquire $43,000 worth of stolen Liberty bonds and a large sum of Russian gold rubles "which could be obtained at about one-quarter their value," explained The New York Times on August 26, 1924.  When Loebinger arrive at Radus's apartment with $7,000, the other two conspirators had a satchel containing magazines and newspapers "arranged in bundles in the shape and size of Liberty bonds."  The trio was prepared "with coils of rope and a pistol," said police.  The plan fell apart when Loebinger escaped.

Wilfred Lillback rented rooms here in 1927.  The son of a Brooklyn clergyman, he had been arrested in 1924 for a hold-up.  His lawyer at that time pleaded for clemency because "an accident to his head when a child had made a criminal of him."

On January 20, 1927, Policeman Sullivan noticed three trunks and three automobiles at the curb of 202 West 81st Street.  When he questioned them, one of the men explained they were moving.  Unconvinced, Sullivan "forced the man to take him to the apartment."  Inside, he found Lillback and another man in "a room full of stolen clothing."  Lillback and his accomplices, Charles Hayes and Will Abramson were arrested and charged of committing nine burglaries in Brooklyn.

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

James J. Barrett and Joseph Robert Sylvester, who were 23 and 19 years old respectively, shared a furnished room here in 1950.  Sylvester, despite his age, had three felony convictions.  On the afternoon of April 29, they and another man, Robert Adelman, attempted to stick-up the Jewel Chest on Sixth Avenue.  The jewelry store had been purchased only a month earlier by Jacob Wasserman, a survivor from the Nazi concentration camp where his parents were killed.  The trio botched the robbery and Wasserman was shot.  The perpetrators fled in separate directions.

Barrett did not get far.  He was seized by a patrolman nearby.  At the 47th Street police station, he gave up the names and addresses of his accomplices.  Their legal troubles worsened when Jacob Wasserman died from his injuries on May 2.

Later that year, on November 18, 1950, another resident, 30-year-old Carlos Villasnov, was captured as he ran from the Macy's Department store in Jamaica, Queens.  He and two others had just slipped three men's suits from a rack and into a cardboard box.

Renting a room here in 1963 was ex-convict Alberto Gomez.   He had been released from Rikers Island in June 1962.  On July 25, he attempted to cash stolen travelers checks in a Chemical Bank branch in midtown.  The teller recognized the check numbers from a bulletin reporting the thefts.  When he summoned a manager, Gomez bolted.  He was arrested minutes later and charged for "receiving stolen money orders, felonious assault and forgery."

Renovations completed in the late 20th century resulted in five apartments per floor.  In the remodeling, the entrance doors and windows were modernized (sadly with loss of the Queen Anne panes), and the first floor windows shortened.  The entrance lanterns were removed, the gable chopped off, and the terra cotta shells of the top floor removed and replaced with sheet metal.  The masonry was painted as well.

photographs by the author

The Lost Woman's Hospital - 113-141 West 109th Street

 photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

J. Marion Sims was born in South Carolina in 1813.  In the 1840s, he focused on women's conditions and in 1849 successfully developed a procedure to close vesicovaginal fistulas.  In 1853, Sims moved his family to New York City where he hoped to establish a hospital to treat women patients.  An announcement in The New York Herald on May 18, 1854 noted he would speak at a "Lecture on the necessity of organizing a great hospital in this city for the diseases peculiar to females."

Sims faced an uphill battle.  Although respected physicians like Valentine Mott endorsed his cause, wealthy donors "of the sterner sex," as described by The New York Times, balked.  Sims wrote, "I was called a quack and a humbug, and the hospital was pronounced a fraud."

But the millionaires' wives rallied behind The Woman's Hospital, as did The New York Times.  Pointing out on February 7, 1855 that there was no such facility in the nation, the newspaper stressed, "There are hundreds in our midst of poor women, who, for the lack of a few weeks' skillful surgical treatment, are day by day sinking into incurable state of disease...For the sake of science, such an institution is demanded here.  This class of diseases is little known, for it is little studied, and hence comes a great amount of suffering which ought to be avoided."  The first American hospital dedicated to women was opened in New York later that same year.

Originally functioning from a former rowhouse, in 1858 the City of New York offered Sims the block between Lexington and Park Avenues and from 49th to 50th Streets as the site for a proper hospital.  The first section was opened in 1867 and the second, doubling the size, was completed in 1877.  The facility proved inadequate by the turn of the century, and in 1900 the architectural firm of Allen & Vance was commissioned to design a replacement structure.

Allen & Vance released this rendering in 1900.  Real Estate Record & Guide, June 2, 1900 (copyright expired)

The Lexington Avenue site, however, was often wet and was deemed unsatisfactory for the proposed structure.  Allen & Vance's plans were shelved for two years.  Then, on February 15, 1902, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the Woman's Hospital had purchased 24 lots on the Upper West Side--midway between Columbus and Amsterdam Avenues and running through the block from 109th to 110th Street.  (The hospital had sold the East Side property for $450,000, a significant $17.4 million in 2026 terms.)  The article noted, "A new hospital building will be erected from plans by Francis R. Allen, of Allen & Vance, of Boston, on the new site."

The massive structure took four years to complete at a cost equal to $22.5 million today.  Francis R. Allen's original 1900 design was followed.  The architect created a striking French Renaissance Revival-style structure inspired by Loire Valley chateaux.  Faced in two colors of brick above a granite basement level, it rose six stories to a delightful assemblage of mansards and elaborate dormers.  Three slightly projecting sections gave the West 109th Street elevation dimension.  Two prominent wings distinguished the 110th Street side.

The hospital's chapel is seen on the ground floor of the eastern wing on the 110th Street side. 

In 1905, as construction progressed, the New York Charities Directory described: "This Hospital is for the treatment of diseases particular to women, and the new building will have a capacity of 100 beds, of which 25 are free."

The new facility had been opened only a short time before its policy of treating female patients only caused an uproar.  On December 20, 1906, six-year-old Isidor Heller was struck by a truck.  The driver, Robert Boyd, drove the severely injured boy to the nearest facility: the Woman's Hospital.  According to Boyd, when he carried the boy through the door, he was met with a physician who said, "You may leave him here until an ambulance comes, but this is a private hospital and we cannot have such cases brought here."

According to Boyd, "nothing was done" and he put little Isidor Heller back into his truck and drove to St. Luke's Hospital where he died.  On January 5, 1907, The Sun reported that a jury in Coroner George F. Shrady's court the previous day had "censured the management and physicians of the Woman's Hospital" for its "brutal and inhuman" refusal to treat the boy.

photograph by Thaddeus Wilkerson, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Despite the early unflattering press, the Woman's Hospital was highly respected.  It democratically treated women from high society--like Margaret Mary Emerson Vanderbilt, Katherine S. C. Hoyt, and Helen Gould Finley--to theatrical figures, like Irene Castle (wife and dancing partner of Vernon Castle), and actress Edna May Oliver.

Madeline Morando was a dancer in Eddie Foy's vaudeville company.  (Born Edwin Fitzgerald, Foy was an extremely popular actor, comedian, dancer and vaudevillian.)  The couple were married in 1896.  Madeline was admitted to the Woman's Hospital in December 1908.  Upon hearing the news, her husband jumped into his automobile and sped off toward the hospital.  He would get a police escort, but not before getting a traffic ticket.

On December 11, the New-York Tribune reported, "Edward [sic] Foy Fitzgerald, known on the stage as 'Eddie Foy,' was arraigned...yesterday afternoon, charged with driving a motor car without a number."  He explained to the magistrate that "he was on his way to the Woman's Hospital...to see his wife, who is at the point of death."  He said that in his hurry he did not look at the car and "thought that perhaps his children had taken off the tag."  After hearing his story (which was corroborated by the policeman), the magistrate dropped the charges.  The article noted parenthetically, "At the hospital last night it was said that Mrs. Fitzgerald was resting comfortably."

Mary Craig Kimbrough married author Upton Sinclair in 1913.  On the voyage home from their honeymoon in August, "Mrs. Sinclair slipped on the deck of the steamer...and the fall affected her spine," as reported by The New York Times.  After three months of various treatments, on November 19 the newspaper reported, "it was decided some days ago that permanent relief from her injury could be obtained only by an operation."  Mary Sinclair underwent spinal surgery here on November 18.  The New York Times reported, "It was said last night at the hospital that the operation was a complete success."

from the collection of Columbia University Libraries

Like Mary Sinclair, traditional treatments for Christine Schnell's condition had not resulted in relief by March 1916.  She was admitted to the Woman's Hospital and scheduled to have an examination "to determine whether an operation was necessary," according The New York Times.  Her nurse divulged that the 40-year-old was apprehensive at the idea of surgery and "could not sleep Friday night because of worry over her approaching trial [i.e., examination]."  Christine Schnell's solution to avoid the dreaded operation was drastic.  On March 11, the nurse left the ward for a moment.  In her absence, Schnell jumped from the fifth-floor window.  The article said, "Looking from the window the nurse saw a crumpled body lying in an areaway separating the hospital and the adjoining building."  Christine Schnell had died instantly.

Margaret Vanderbilt was the widow of millionaire Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt, lost in the sinking of the RMS Lusitania in May 1915.  She was admitted to the Woman's Hospital in March 1917 with appendicitis.  A week later, on March 19, the New York Herald reported, "she is recovering rapidly, and it is expected that she will be able to return to her home within a short time."

The Woman's Hospital received unflattering press in January 1922.  Nellie Harris filed a $5,000 suit in State Supreme Court "for the alleged refusal to admit her to the post graduate course for nurses because the plaintiff is a negro," reported the New-York Tribune on January 5.   Nellie Harris had admirable credentials.  A graduate of Freeman's Hospital in Washington, she took charge of the surgical ward in Lincoln Hospital in New York in 1920.  Later she was a nurse in charge of a sanatorium in Harlem.

A 1925 advertisement detailed the courses available.  from the collection of the University of Wisconsin-Madison

When she applied to the post graduate course here in August 1921, she was told the class was full.  When she tried again on December 1, "she was informed that she could not be admitted because of her color," reported the New-York Tribune.  The stalwart nurse's stance was successful.  In its March 1922 issue, The Crisis reported, "Nellie Harris, a colored nurse, has won admittance to the Post-Graduate course at the Woman's Hospital, New York City."  The article noted, "The case was settled out of court."

Mr. and Mrs. Leon Dukas "delayed the trip to the hospital too long" on February 18, 1928, according to officials.  The couple's baby "arrived at the very moment Mrs. Dukas entered the main hall of the hospital," reported The New York Times.  Because the seven-pound girl was not born in their taxi or outside the hospital doors, the infant was honored as "Miss Fourteen Thousand."  The 14,000th baby delivered within the building was celebrated a few days later with a "birthday party" in the maternity ward.  She was crowned and given a gift.

The Woman's Hospital was significantly enlarged in 1929.  Wings were erected at the east and west ends of the building.  They included a new "out-patient clinic building" that opened on March 13, 1929.  The wings were design in sympathy to Francis R. Allen's 1900 design.

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

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A disturbing incident occurred on February 6, 1945.  Catherine Keagen was a 20-year-old white nurse and her supervisor was Emma Miles, a 36-year-old black nurse.  Emma was in charge of the entire fifth floor.  Catherine Keagen, according to Emma Miles, refused to recognize her as her superior.  At 6:00 that morning, Emma snapped.  The New York Times reported that Catherine was in critical condition "with a fractured skull after having been struck on the head with a fire axe wielded by Emma Miles."  

Emma had fled the hospital, but was arrested that afternoon.  She admitted to the attack, explaining that Keagen, "refused to obey instructions."

The hospital instituted an innovation in 1949--a beauty salon.  It opened in February and physicians told reporters that "they had found the beauty service an excellent device for transferring the patient's attention from the discomfort of illness and improving morale."  The New York Times reported, "It humanizes hospitals and helps eliminate tension and anxieties created by unfamiliar and sometimes terrifying surroundings, the physicians said."

In 1952, the Woman's Hospital merged with St. Luke's Hospital.  Thirteen years later, on June 5, 1965, the N. Y. Amsterdam News reported on the dedication "of the new Woman's Hospital at Amsterdam Avenue and 114th Street."  The article reminded readers that the Woman's Hospital was "now a part of St. Luke's Hospital Center."

The immense 1906 Woman's Hospital building was demolished, replaced with the Cathedral Parkway Towers apartment building, completed in 1974.

image via apartments.com

The John J. and Emma G. O'Brien House - 208 East 78th Street

 

Howard A. Martin purchased 200 feet of property in 1861 along East 78th Street, which at the time existed only on paper.  His deed included a $128 assessment (about $4,830 in 2026) to open the street.  Martin divided the parcel into 15 building plots, each 13-feet, 4-inches-wide.  His builders, Warren and Ransom Beman (possibly brothers) and John Buckley, were most likely responsible for the charming design of the challengingly narrow homes.   

Martin's project stalled when, that same year, the Civil War broke out.  Thousands of laborers marched off to fight and construction in New York City ground nearly to a halt.  Finally, in 1865 (the year the conflict ended) construction of the 15 identical houses was completed.  Each rose three stories above high basements.  Two bays wide, their red brick facades were trimmed in brownstone.  Each of the openings was fully arched.  Bracketed Italianate-style cornices graced the rooflines.

Possibly strapped for money because of the delay, Martin had sold the uncompleted project to investor William H. Brower.  It appears, because of the regular turnover in occupants, he rented 208 East 78th Street.  

Interestingly, despite its narrow proportions, two families initially occupied the house.  William Rosenberg and Jacob Weinman were partners in three dry goods stores--at 28 West Broadway, 221 First Avenue, and 224 Avenue A.  The families remained until 1869, when an auction of their household goods was held on April 28.  The inventory revealed that these were middle-class families, with items like "walnut and mahogany Parlor and Chamber Suits."

James Campbell, a merchant, occupied the house through 1874, followed by Morris Kuttner and his family.  Kuttner operated a fancygoods store at 201 Church Street.  The family was affluent enough to hire at least one servant.  An advertisement on May 29, 1876 read, "A girl to do housework in small family.  208 East 78th st., near 3d av."

The Morris Jacobson family occupied the house in the 1890s.  Jacobson was a real estate operator and ran his business from the house.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

It appears that Moses Hirsch Sr. purchased 208 at the turn of the century as a wedding present for his son, Moses Jr. and his bride, the former Hannah Rothschild.  He transferred title to the property to the couple in April 1901.  They would suffer heartache four years later.  On February 3, 1905, Ira Arnold Hirsch died at the age of three months.

The following year, on September 17, Moses Hirsch sold 208 East 78th Street to John J. and Emma G. O'Brien.  The couple had one son, Thomas K.

Born in 1862, John J. O'Brien was a fascinating figure.  In 1884 he earned the title of "amateur wrestling champion of the United States," according to The New York Times.  He never totally abandoned the sport.  In May 1905, for instance, he was one of the two judges of the Madison Square Garden "world's championship at catch-as-catch-can wrestling," as reported by The New York Times.

O'Brien sat on the last New York Board of Alderman prior to the consolidation of the boroughs into one metropolis in 1898.  That year he was appointed an official of the Department of Sanitation.  He still held that position when the family moved into 208 East 78th Street.  He was, as well, the head of the John J. O'Brien Printing Co.

John J. O'Brien's expertise in wrestling resulted in his becoming a judge during the 1920 Olympic Games in Belgium.  

Thomas K. O'Brien graduated from Yale University in 1922 and then entered the Fordham Law School.

John J. O'Brien suffered a heart attack in January 1942.  He died in the Misericordia Hospital a week later, on January 21.  By then, Thomas had moved to Pelham Manor, New York and Emma sold 208 East 78th Street to Isaac D. Bachmann.

Isaac D. Bachmann, The New York Times, January 1, 1949

Isaac Bachmann was born in 1878.  In 1900 he co-founded Bachmann, Emmerich & Co., Inc., a textile factoring firm.  He and his wife, the former Aimee Lubelski, had a son, Harold S., and two daughters, Edith and Peggy.  The family's country home was in Mount Vernon, New York.  In 1939, Bachmann left the firm he had co-founded and joined James Talcott, Inc., another textile factor.

Bachmann's health began failing in 1948, and he died in the East 78th Street house at the age of 71 on December 30.  The New York Times said simply that he died "after a long illness."

The house was purchased by Frederick Arthur Collins.  Born in Boston in 1898, he was known as Arthur Collins throughout his adult lifetime.  He was president of Collins, Tuttle & Co., Inc., a real estate firm he and Wylie F. L. Tuttle established in 1954.  Prior to that, Collins had been a vice president and partner in Brown, Harris, Stevens, Inc. for more than two decades.

On March 7, 1953, Collins (who had two sons, Frederick Arthur Jr. and Hunt Turner by an earlier marriage) married Lucia Baldwin.  It was Lucia's fourth marriage.  This one, too, would not last and Lucia left 208 East 78th Street around 1957 to begin divorce proceedings.

Arthur Collins died in the house at the age of 60 on June 16, 1958.  The divorce had not been finalized, and a long court case over the estate between his sons and Lucia began.

In 1964, the four 1865 houses to the west were demolished.  Those at the far east of the row were razed before 1900, replaced with a tenement building.  There were now just five houses, including 208 East 78th Street, that survived.

No. 208 is at the far right.

In 1988, an apartment was installed in the basement.  At some point the homeowners of the row agreed to paint the brownstone trim white, giving the charming residences a unified appearance.

photographs by the author