Wednesday, August 26, 2026

A Georgian Transformation - 213-215 West 13th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1851 George P. Rogers and William C. Rhinelander erected two three-story-and-basement homes on West 13th Street between Seventh and Greenwich Avenues.  Their basement and parlor levels were clad in brownstone and the upper floors faced in red brick and trimmed in stone.  Nos. 141 and 143 West 13th Street (renumbered 213 and 215 in 1868) were initially rented, resulting in relatively short residencies for their early occupants.

Real estate agent William H. Terry and his family lived in 141 West 13th Street in 1853.  Living next door in 1855 and 1856 was the family of dry goods merchant Max Weil.

Charles Fox, who operated a "caps and fur manufactory" on Canal Street, moved into 143 West 13th Street and would remain through 1869.  The Campbell family next rented the house.  Andrew J. Campbell was a blacksmith and Henry Campbell listed his profession as "iron."  (The related professions suggests that they worked together.)  When the Campbell family left early in 1872, an advertisement in the New York Herald on April 24 offered: 

To let--A three story high stoop house, 215 West Thirteenth street, in perfect order, with carpets, mirrors, cornices and gas fixtures, near Seventh avenue; immediate possession; $1,500; very cheap.

That yearly rental would translate to about $3,400 per month in 2026.

The advertisement was answered by widowed Lawrence Mingey.  He and his late wife, Mary, had eight sons, at least two of whom--Walter and Lawrence A.--moved into the West 13th Street house.  

A married daughter and her family also shared the house.  On July 4, 1873, their 18-year-old daughter, Mary Agnes McCann died.  Her funeral was held in the parlor.

The Mingey parlor would be the scene of another funeral before long.  Lawrence A. Mingey, the youngest of the brothers, died at the age of 27 in Raleigh, North Carolina on May 1, 1874.  His body was rushed back to West 13th Street and his funeral was held on May 3.

Walter Mingey was a successful and enterprising businessmen.  When the family moved into 215 West 13th Street in 1873, he operated a saddlery on Staten Island and a butcher business on Grove Street.

In the meantime, the family of Henry Strouse leased the house next door in 1867.  Among their servants German-born Sophia Woelt.  A 42-year-old German man, Albert Garagnon, became infatuated with her and "frequently importuned [her] to become his wife," according to the New York Herald.  Sophia, however, "often refused him on account of his being previously married."

Between 6:00 and 7:00 on the morning of February 11, 1868, Garagnon arrived at the house.  He and Sophia quarreled and Garagnon drew a revolver and fired two shots at her.  Both bullets missed Sophia.  "He then took a razor from his pocket and cut his own throat," said the newspaper.  Garagnon died on the spot and the New York Herald concluded, "Disappointed love, so far as has yet been ascertained, is the cause assigned for the dreadful act."

Max Goepp and Simon Sterne were partners in the law firm Goepp & Sterne.  Their office was at 35 Wall Street.  On September 10, 1870, they purchased 213 West 13th Street--each owning a 50 percent share--and moved in.  The attorneys remained here until Goepp's death on May 12, 1872.  

The house was rented after that, but the unusual ownership caused problems.  In 1875 a relative, Charles Goepp, sued Simon Stern "to restrain defendant from collecting the rent of property 213 West 13th street."

The house was sold to David Richey, who continued to lease it.  In January 1886, he hired architect Gilbert A. Schellenger to add a fourth floor and a four-story addition to the rear.  Richey quickly sold the remodeled building to Mary Stappers for $19,000 (about $663,000 today).  By then, 215 West 13th Street had been raised to four floors, as well.

When Charles Rubinger purchased both buildings in June 1909 for "about $200,000," according to The New York Times, they were described as "two four-story single flats."  Then, in 1925, they were combined.  Rubinger's architect gave the cojoined buildings a neo-Georgian make-over.  The stoops were removed and an elegant entrance created at grade.  Within a columned portico, the doorway echoed an 18th century country mansion with multi-paned sidelights and a refined fanlight.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

At the same time, a fifth floor was added above a cornice upheld by corbels and decorated by a row of dentils.

Splayed Georgian-inspired lintels decorate the midsection openings.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1938, architect Joseph Lau renovated the interiors, resulting in four apartments per floor.  They quickly attracted literary figures.  Anaïs Nin and her husband, engraver and filmmaker Hugh Parker Guiler were perhaps the first.  Born Angela Nin, she had started writing detailed journals at the age of 13.  By now she was known as a writer of novels, short stories and erotica.  She and Guiler were married in 1923.

Anaïs Nin (original source unknown)

Writing in her diary on September 12, 1940, Nin wrote, 

After much searching I found an apartment I could afford.  Sixty dollars a month, a skylight studio, on the top floor of 215 West Thirteenth Street.  Five flights up.  A very large, high-ceilinged room, half of the ceiling an inclined skylight, the whole length of it, twelve windows in all.  A small kitchen, with barely enough room for stove and icebox.

Also moving in that year were Shirley Jackson and Stanley Edgar Hyman.  The writers met in 1938 and moved in shortly after their marriage in 1940.  Shirley Hardie Jackson, born in 1916, would be best known for her mystery and horror novels and short stories.  Stanley Edgar Hyman, who was three years younger, was a literary critic.

Shirley Jackson, from the dust jacket of We Have Always Lived in the Castle.

Arthur McCaffery and his wife lived here at midcentury.  Born in 1899, his wide-ranging resume included radio writing, acting, and directing.  In 1947 he wrote Cape Cod on the Subway and collaborated on theatrical and musical comedy productions.

An avid fisherman, he and his wife owned a 30-foot cruiser.  The couple hosted several guests on their boat on Sheepshead Bay on May 22, 1954, when a gale blew in.  In battling the weather conditions, McCaffery suffered a heart attack.  The New York Times reported, "Mrs. McCaffery had other fishermen summon Coast guard assistance for her husband."  Happily, although "strong winds and waves up to ten feet" hampered the rescue, McCaffery was taken ashore for treatment and recovery.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

From the street, the handsome, combined rowhouses are nearly unchanged since their significant 1925 remodeling.

many thanks to Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

Tuesday, August 25, 2026

The 1893 Henry A. Caesar House - 19 West 76th Street

 


Developer Cornelius W. Luyster broke ground for five high-end townhouses on West 76th Street just west of Central Park West in 1892.  Completed the following year and designed by John H. Duncan in the Renaissance Revival style, they were four-stories tall above English basements.

The basement and parlor levels of the westernmost house, 19 West 76th Street, were faced in planar brownstone.  A dog-legged stoop decorated with swirling volutes and rondel-filled panels rose to the double-doored entrance.  It and the parlor windows were flanked by shallow pilasters decorated with carved anthemions.  The upper portion was clad in variegated beige brick.  The second floor was dominated by a three-sided oriel that provided a balcony to the third.  Windows at that level sat within molded brownstone architraves, while those at the fourth were surrounded by elaborate terra cotta frames, their cornices topped with swan's head pediments crowned with urns.  Above a terra cotta frieze, the cornice was supported by foliate brackets of the same material.

Duncan changed from brownstone trim to terra cotta at the top floor with satisfying results.

John H. Uhlman was the original owner of the 25-foot-wide residence.  He sold it to Henry A. Caesar and his wife, the former Laura F. Unger, in March 1902.

Born in Brooklyn on May 15, 1856, Caesar was educated abroad and founded H. A. Caesar & Company, factors and commercial bankers, in 1886.  He was also a director of the Germania Life Insurance Company and the Chemical Bank and Trust Company.  He and Laura had three sons, Paul N., born in 1889; Harry I., born in 1891; and Charles U., who arrived in 1897.  The 1908 Men of America mentioned, "His favorite recreation is big game hunting."

The Caesars' 39-acre summer estate, Lauriston (named for Laura) was in Rumson Borough, New Jersey.  The mansion on the property was designed by Leon Cubberly in 1870.

The mansion at Lauriston today.  image via Preservation New Jersey

Harry I. Caesar was married to Doris Porter in St. Thomas's Chapel on December 27, 1913.  The bridal party included socially elite surnames like Slocum, Townsend, Symington, and Hoagland.

The family remained at 19 West 76th Street until April 1917 when they sold the house to Solomon Marcuse Stroock and his wife, Hilda Weil.  The couple were married in 1904 and had three children, Minette, Robert Louis, and Alan Maxwell.  

Stroock was born on September 22, 1873 of German immigrants.  He graduated from the College of the City of New York in 1891, received his Masters degree from Columbia University in 1892, and his law degree from Columbia Law School in 1894.  After being in partnership with attorney M. Warley Platzek since 1896, in 1907 Stroock established a law office, Stroock & Stroock, with his brother, Moses.

Solomon Marcuse Stroock, The Jewish Tribune, November 25, 1927 (copyright expired)

Stroock was highly involved in Jewish affairs.  He was chairman of the board of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America and a member of the American Jewish Historical Society.  In 1903, he contributed to the latter's American Jewish History, an academic journal that focused on the history of Jews in the United States.

Like the Caesars, the Stroocks left the city during the summer social season.  On May 20, 1921, for instance, The American Hebrew reported, "Mr. and Mrs. Sol. M. Stroock of 19 West Seventy-sixth street will spend the summer at Ossining, N. Y."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

On August 30, 1939, The New York Times titled an article, "19 West 76th St. Leased."  The article said the "lessee will occupy the house after improvements are made."  That was stretching the truth.  The unnamed tenant converted the residence to unofficial apartments.

Solomon Marcuse Stroock suffered a fatal heart attack while he and Hilda were at the Greenbrier Hotel in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia on September 11, 1941.  The West 76th Street house was sold to James H. Cruikshank, who resold it in November 1942 to George Lawall.  In reporting on the latest sale, The New York Times mentioned, "The building contains nineteen rooms and eight baths."


A renovation completed in 1974 resulted in 14 apartments.  None of the alterations, happily, affected the exterior.

photographs by the author

Monday, August 24, 2026

The Lost Daly's Restaurant Building - 20 East 42nd Street

 

The Brickbuilder, October 10, 1916 (copyright expired)

Born in Ireland in 1865, Bernard Daly arrived in New York City in 1883.  Although he never dabbled in politics, according to The New York Times years later, he "was a personal friend of many Tammany Hall figures."  Among those were Tammany bosses John F. Curry and Charles F. Murphy.

In 1885, Daly opened a saloon on Eleventh Avenue and West 42nd Street.  He lost the business in bankruptcy in 1908, creating a problem for Judge Hough.  He appointed a businessman who was not affiliated with the courts to "carry on the business," according to the New York Herald.  The article explained, "A lawyer remarked that Uncle Sam running a liquor saloon would not please the Prohibitionists."

Bernard Daly began anew, opening a restaurant and bar in a renovated three-story townhouse at 20 East 42nd Street, just east of Fifth Avenue.  Daly subleased the space from the New York Real Estate and Security Company, which was renting the property from Caroline Cochard, who lived in Paris.  Spaces in the upper portion of the building were occupied by offices, at least two of which held well known architects--Emery Roth and Oscar Lowinson.

In 1913, the New York Real Estate and Security Company failed.  The New York Times reported on January 17, 1914, "Agnes Daly, wife of Bernard Daly, the tenant of the property," had leased the old building.  The New York Herald noted that the lease would extend for 19 years.

The Dalys hired architect John Philip Voelker to remodel the vintage house into a romantic, five-story-and-attic building.  The Daly Restaurant would occupy the lower three floors of the Tyrolean-style structure, and the upper portion would hold apartments.  Voelker was assisted by architect Oscar Lowinson.  (The latter's fees were covered by Caroline Cochard.)  Lowinson was charged with designing the striking glass-and-iron marquee, an extension in the rear, and (less glamorous) the plumbing.

Voelker gave the side piers a striated effect by alternating red brick and stone.  A long arcade fronted the second floor and three grouped windows dominated the third.  The upper floors sat back, allowing for a crenellated balcony at the fourth floor.  The step-gabled attic was decorated with half-timbering.

Oscar Lowinson worked "in co-operation with Jack Abrams & Bro., Inc.," on the up-to-date plumbing, according to The Plumbers' Trade Journal, Steam and Hot Water Fitters' Review on September 15, 1915.  The journal called it "a very fine installation of modern plumbing work," and described, "The changes and alterations consist of providing extensive kitchen plumbing equipment, a six-station bar 67 feet long, two commodious toilet rooms, one in the basement for men and one on [the] second floor for women."

Unlike his previous saloon, Daly's was a proper restaurant and barroom.  The New York Times would recall in 1933 that it "was noted for many specialties both in its cuisine and at its bar, one of the longest in the city at that time."

The price for the above meal would translate to about $38 in 2026.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Shortly after the restaurant opened, tragedy occurred.   Myles Carroll, who was employed by the Knickerbocker Ice Company, drove his ice wagon to the restaurant on September 22, 1914.  Court papers documented that he was delivering ice in the cellar when "the ice tongs slipped and a 300-lb cake of ice fell upon him, striking him in the abdomen."  The injured man died in a hospital six days later.

Like the modern plumbing, Bernard Daly kept up with technological advances.  Early in 1916, he converted the kitchen from coal ranges to gas.  In its April 1916 issue, Gas Logic published two photographs, explaining:

It was an over-night change of kitchen.  The chef and his three assistants left Daly's Restaurant, No. 20 East Forty-second Street, after the coal fires had been "drawn."  The next morning the chef was prepared to cook the meals of 500 customers on Gas Ranges.

Kitchen workers among the coal-fired equipment. Gas Logic, April 1916 (copyright expired)

The kitchen with its gas-fed equipment.  Gas Logic April 1916 (copyright expired)

Although the article's photographs did not reveal dramatic transformations, it noted, "The heat in the Daly Restaurant kitchen had always been excessive...That kitchen is cool and comfortable today."

Bernard Daly's first trouble with authorities came in 1918.  To conserve oil and coal for the war effort, the Federal Government instituted "Lightless Sundays and Thursdays."  On those nights, no exterior lighting other that street lights was allowed.  Storefronts and displays were ordered shut off.

The electric sign outside Daly's Restaurant burned brightly on Thursday night, March 29, 1918.  The infraction cost Daly dearly.  The following day, The Evening World reported, "Ten firms...had their electric current turned off to-day by order of Deputy Fuel Administrator Edwin O. Norma. for violation of the 'lightless Thursday' rule last night."  Among those businesses was Daly's Restaurant.  The article said that it was Daly's second offense, and he received a warning the first time.

Another war restriction would get Daly into hot water.  Eight months later, in November 1918, the Government passed the Wartime Prohibition Act, banning the sale of intoxicating liquors.  At 7:00 on September 17, 1919, according to The New York Times, "dinner was being served and the restaurant upstairs and the barroom was crowded."  About 50 patrons were eating in the dining room.  The article added that the cabaret and dancing room on the second floor "was well filled."  Suddenly Federal agents entered and "quietly walked to the end of the bar and told the man behind the bar there that he was under arrest."

The agents spread throughout the premises.  The New York Times said, "Those in the barroom were startled when a file of some half a dozen men, each displaying a gilt badge, started down the bar, moving aside the bartenders and gathering up the stock.  Flasks, demijohns, and bottles were passed back to the end of the counter."  In all, four of Daly's employees were arrested.  The New York Hotel Record added that the agents, "took with them to the Federal Building about four gallons of gin, whisky, brandy, and sherry."

Disgusted, Bernard Daly sold his business and his lease.  The New York Times later reminisced, "Persons in many walks of life frequented Daly's Restaurant and Grill.  Society folk, politicians, stage celebrities, authors and commuters mingled there.  For the last of these a late afternoon drink or two of ale often meant running for a Grand Central train."

(A calmer Daly would soon have seller's regret.  "Not long afterward, however, he opened another Daly's Restaurant and Grill at 17 East Fifty-ninth Street," said The New York Times.)

The ground floor of 20 East 42nd Street became a C. & L. Luncheonette, and the second floor was leased in February 1920 to Irving Chen and Chin Goon, "who will occupy the premises with a first-class Chinese-American restaurant," reported The New York Times.

The restaurants' tenancies would be short-lived.  On December 10, 1922, The New York Times remarked on the proposed "erection of the 20 East Forty-second Street Building" on the site as part of the "peak of the building movement in the Terminal zone."  

The replacement building.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Daly's Restaurant Building was demolished to be replaced by a six-story structure designed by Dennison & Hirons, completed in 1924.  That structure survives.

many thanks to reader Doug Wheeler for prompting this post

Saturday, August 22, 2026

The Unrecognizable Augustus Kountze Mansion - 238 Madison Avenue

 

photograph by Ted Leather

Born in Ohio on November 19, 1826, Augustus Kountze worked in his father's grocery store as a young man.  With greater aspirations, he traveled west in 1854--first to Iowa and then to Omaha, Nebraska in 1855.  Starting in real estate, he branched out to banking and railroads.  On June 14, 1859, he married Catharine Ruth.  Their romance almost assuredly had been conducted by letters for the past five years, since Catharine, too, was an Ohio native.

By 1861 Kountze was influential and wealthy.  He owned the Omaha Horse Railway Company, was treasurer of the Nebraska Territory, and of the State of Nebraska from 1861 through 1869.  By the time he and Catharine moved to New York City in 1872, he had amassed significant land holdings throughout the Midwest and West.

In Manhattan, Augustus Kountze and his brothers, Charles, Herman and Luther, established the Kountze Brothers Bank, of which Augustus was the senior member.  He was, as well, president of the Boston, Hoosac Tunnel and Western Railway Company, and a principal of the Omaha and Northwestern Railroad. 

Augustus Kountze, from the collection of The Stephen H. Hart Research Center

Augustus and Catharine established their home at 21 West 48th Street, just west of Fifth Avenue.  Then, in 1889, they purchased the 35-foot-wide brownstone mansion at 238 Madison Avenue.  Four-stories tall above an English basement, its stoop rose to a columned portico.  The mansion's neo-Grec design included beefy lintels with incised decorations.  Paired corbels supported the cornice.

Before moving in, the Kountzes made substantial interior renovations.  As the work progressed, Catharine visited the showrooms of Pottier & Stymus, one of New York City's most celebrated cabinetmakers, which outfitted the mansion with suites of elegant furniture.  Tax records placed the value of the furnishings at $23,691.80, or about $865,000 in 2026 terms.   The Kountzes filled the mansion with valuable paintings, sculptures and "bric-a-brac."  The same tax documents valued the "paintings &c." even higher than the custom-made furniture, at $24,200.

The Kountzes' residence sat within one of the most fashionable sections of the city.  Taking up the northern half of the block was the massive Theodore A. Havemeyer house, and diagonally to the east at 231 Madison Avenue was the William E. Dodge mansion.

Iron fencing and a pair of carriage gates separate the Theodore A. Havemeyer property (right) from the three mansions to the south.  The Kountze residence is the middle house, just right of the lamppost.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.


Katherine Ruth Smith, the daughter of Catharine's sister, had lived with the Kountzes since 1860, when she was six years old.  The New York Times later remarked, "Although she was never legally adopted, she was regarded as their daughter."

The family moved into their renovated mansion in time for Katherine's 1892 wedding.  As the date neared, Augustus became ill, The New York Sun saying he "has not been a thoroughly well man for several weeks past."  Nevertheless, Katharine was married to Karl Walther Neuhoff "in the Louis XVI room" of the Kountze mansion on April 7, 1892.

The New York Herald called it the "prettiest of the spring weddings thus far," adding, "The large front drawing room was decorated with Marguerites, lilies, azaleas, hydrangeas, and purple orchids."  Those orchids may have inspired Catharine Kountze's outfit.  "Mrs. Kountze, in a gown of purple velvet, trimmed with passementerie and white lace, held the bridal bouquet of lilies of the valley," said the article.

The reception was brief--lasting from 4:30 until 6:00--but it was too much for Augustus Kountze.  Six days later, on April 13, The Sun reported that he "was taken with a chill on Thursday night at the wedding reception of his wife's niece, Miss Katharine Ruth Smith, which was held at his house.  That night he was carried to his bed, to which he has been confined every since."

Kountze lingered for three weeks before dying "of a complication of disorders," as worded by the New York Herald, on April 30, 1892.  The funeral was held in the Madison Avenue mansion on May 4.  The delay made it possible for some mourners to reach New York City.  Among those attending the funeral, for instance, was Colorado Senator Henry M. Teller.

Interestingly, the deed to 238 Madison Avenue was not in Catharine's name, as was common among affluent couples, but in her husband's.  Augustus's will declared that Catharine was given "for life" the use of the residence, "furniture, &c., paintings, &c."

Katharine and Karl Neuhoff remained in the mansion with Catharine.  A mysterious burglary took place on December 11, 1904.  The New York Times said the family was at dinner and the servants occupied when "a sneak thief" somehow entered the house.  Catharine told police that valuable articles were left behind, prompting police to surmise (ungrammatically) that the burglar "hurriedly took only what he thought he could realize a smug sum on and fled before the family left the dining table."  The items stolen, said the article, "included a mink collar and muff, a silver smelling bottle, two rare porcelain boxes and one gold bonbon box, a gold-framed lorgnette, a gold chain, and a chain of gun metal."  The value would translate to about $37,300 today.

The Kountze mansion continued to be the setting of polite entertainments.  On January 23, 1914, Catherine hosted a dinner, and on March 25, 1915, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Karl W. Neuhoff of 238 Madison Avenue gave a luncheon yesterday, followed by a matinée party."

Considering the conflict raging in Europe, one event in the house was especially newsworthy.  On March 29, 1916, the New York Herald reported that Karl Neuhoff "gave a small dinner at his home, 238 Madison avenue, last evening in honor of Count Johann von Bernstorff, the German Ambassador."  Among the other 12 guests were Dr. Heinreich F. Albert, the fiscal agent of Germany, and Captain Ewald Hecker, head of the German Red Cross.  The article mentioned, "After the dinner the members of the party went to the Metropolitan Opera House to witness a German production of a Shakespearian play."

The year prior to that function, the Havemeyer mansion was demolished to be replaced by a 16-story business building.  With the once exclusive Murray Hill neighborhood being invaded by commerce, in April 1917 Augustus Kountze's estate placed 238 Madison Avenue on the market.  The changes to the neighborhood were reflected in the realtor's advertisement.  It said in part, "Can be used for business or profitably altered for business on lower floors with apartments above."

Catharine Kountze and the Neuhoffs moved into the Plaza Hotel where Catharine died the following year on April 28, 1918.  The new owner leased the Madison Avenue mansion to the National Emergency Relief Society.  The house would be used as the society's headquarters and for use by "soldiers or sailors," according to The Evening World.


This photograph taken around 1928 shows the business building on the site of the Havemeyer mansion.  The National Emergency Relief Society had not altered the former Kountze house, two doors to the south.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

The society welcomed servicemen stopping in Manhattan on their way to or from the war.  On November 28, 1919, for instance, The Sun announced a dance "for men in uniform" to be held here that evening.  The National Emergency Relief Society remained a few years following the end of the war.  On January 2, 1920, it held one of its final servicemen's dances.

In 1922, F. A. Lawlor operated his gallery here, selling "paintings, porcelains, bronzes, furniture, ship models."  The parlor floor was home to the National Democratic Club.  It would remain at least through 1928.

A significant remodeling by architect J. A. Berlinger in 1937 resulted in a multipurpose building.  The stoop was removed, two commercial spaces were installed at street level, and the upper floors converted to 14 apartments.  The neo-Grec details, including the cornice, were removed.

In 1940, the Stew Bar moved into one of the store spaces.  It was supplanted in the mid-1950s by Giambelli, an Italian restaurant.  The New York Times food critic John Canaday wrote on January 3, 1957, "'Eating well' at Giambelli means consuming food that ranges from above average to excellent in an atmosphere that is unfailingly delightful."

And, apparently, the restaurant was delightful.  It survived for decades, until Madison Bistro, a "restaurant Francais," opened here in June 1990.

As early as 2005, the Candy Club, a frozen dessert shop, occupied the space next door to Madison Bistro.  Just before  closing up at around 10:00 on the night of August 23 that year, the proprietor was on the telephone with his wife.  Suddenly, a "man dressed in dark jeans, a long white shirt and a white hat" entered and shot the owner twice in the chest, as reported by the Staten Island Advance.  The victim was taken to Bellevue Hospital in critical condition.

Madison Bistro remained through 2024, by which time the Rico Bagel shop had moved into the other space.  Margaux replaced Madison Bistro.

photo via loopnet.com

In the meantime, the brownstone facade of 238 Madison Avenue has been painted.  Squeezed between 20th century commercial buildings, it is the last remnant of the refined period when this Murray Hill block was home to some of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens.

many thanks to reader Ted Leather for suggesting this post

Friday, August 21, 2026

The 1931 Rothman's Pawn Shop Building - 149 Eighth Avenue

 



Born in the Chelsea area of New York City on March 6, 1833, Rev. Stephen Merritt Jr. joined his father's undertaking business in the converted house at 149 Eighth Avenue in 1851.  The Federal-style residence was erected around 1828 and would have been a close match to the abutting houses at 145 and 147 Eighth Avenue.  Following his father's death in 1874, Merritt moved the operation to 219 Eighth Avenue.  

At the turn of the century, Samuel Epstein's glass and mirror business occupied the ground floor of the vintage building.  But the post-World War I years saw it sorely neglected.  The city deemed the structure "unsafe" in 1927, 1929 and 1930.

Apparently that third violation was the last straw for city inspectors.  The building was demolished and the 149 Eighth Avenue Corp. hired architect H. Hurwit to replace it with a one-story store.  Hurwit's Art Moderne design included sharply-angled arcade windows that provided ample display space for window-shopping pedestrians.  Above, a high, scalloped parapet gave the diminutive building a false sense of height.

Hurwit's stylish design was visible for only a short time.  The building was leased to Rothman's Pawn Shop.  Its aggressive signage left only the show windows visible.

Steel supports reinforce the abutting buildings in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The intentional chaos of Rothman's Pawn Shop caught the eye of photographer Berenice Abbott on May 18, 1938.  She snapped photographs of the building as part of her Changing New York, a collection of images funded by the Federal Art Project. 

This image by Berenice Abbott clearly shows the arcade windows sitting on sleek, two-toned Art Moderne bases.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

The Eighth Avenue neighborhood underwent a renaissance in the third quarter of the century.  After having been home to Rothman's for half a century (during which the billboard-sized sign prevented masonry repairs), in 1983 149 Eighth Avenue was converted to an "eating and drinking establishment," as worded by the Department of Buildings.  H. Hurwit's Art Moderne arcade windows were replaced with a flat facade.  The alterations anticipated the August 5th opening of Pat Rogers's and Bob Barbero's restaurant, Rogers and Barbero. 

Two months later, on October 3, The New York Times restaurant critic Suzanne Daley recalled, "Opening night was a blur of handshakes and congratulations."  The owners, she wrote, "had transformed what used to be a pawn shop into a restaurant, covering the crumbling black-brick facade with pale beige stucco, rebuilding the floors and the walls, spending nearly $350,000."

The partners had signed a 15-year lease on the building.  Their goal, they said, was to establish a neighborhood restaurant serving regional dishes and "some of what the American chefs are coming up with."

There was another change taking place in the Chelsea neighborhood.  By the 1990s, the gay community had greatly moved northward from Greenwich Village and at least two gay bars opened along Eighth Avenue.  In 1993, Pat Rogers and Bob Barbero renovated their restaurant and renamed it Food Bar.  The changes were intended to attract a gay clientele.

On November 10, 1993, Newsday titled an article "Gays and the Restaurant Scene."  Bob Barbero told the journalist, "A lot of people who come in here now know each other and go from table to table during the course of the night.  It is much more of a social scene, more outrageous than our old restaurant."

The popular Food Bar was both "outrageous" and highly successful.  photograph by Gigi Cohen, Newsday, November 10, 1993.

The importance of Food Bar in the Chelsea gay community was reflected in a benefit held here in June 1999.  The New York Times said, "Kathleen Turner, Martha Plimpton and Joan Osborne will speak at a benefit for the Planned Parenthood Federation of America and Planned Parenthood of New York City."  Following the speeches, said the article, would be "a performance of Part 1 of 'The Cider House Rules.'"



A renovation completed in 2010 included a new storefront and a coat of charcoal-colored paint.  Today a Mexican restaurant occupies the space.

photographs by the author

Thursday, August 20, 2026

The 1926 Barclay Hotel - 111 East 48th Street

 

photograph by Ajay Suresh

The renovation of Grand Central Depot to Grand Central Terminal sparked a burst of development in the neighborhood, known as Terminal City.  A second wave that erupted in the 1920s included a 14-story "stores and apartment hotel," as described in the plans.  Fred Bielsaski was president of the Barclay Park Corporation.  In 1925, the syndicate hired the architectural firm of Cross & Cross to design the $3 million project at the northwest corner of 48th Street and Lexington Avenue.  (
Millionaire architect Eliot Cross not only designed the building, but he sat on the hotel's board of directors with highly-visible moguls like W. Seward Webb Jr., John R. Todd and James M. Todd, and Weld M. Stevens.)

The U-shaped, Renaissance Revival-style structure was completed the following year.  Its midsection atop a three-story stone base was clad in brown brick.  The single-story, stone-faced top section sat upon a molded cornice and was decorated with massive full-relief rosettes and Renaissance-inspired panels.

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

On April 10, 1926, The New York Times reported, "The new Barclay Hotel at 111 East Forty-eighth Street will be formally opened at a dinner and dance on Oct. 21."  But on the day of that article, the first residents were already moving in.  The Barclay Hotel was a residential hotel--meaning that residents had long-term leases, like apartment dwellers, but enjoyed the amenities of transient hotels, like maid service.

New York Evening Post, September 25, 1926 (copyright expired)

Among the initial residents were Morgan Belmont and his wife, the former Margaret Frances Andrews.  Belmont was born in 1892, the son of millionaire August Belmont Jr. and Bessie Hamilton Morgan.  The couple's daughter, Margaret Andrews Morgan Belmont, was born in 1917.  The family's country home was in Westbury, Long Island.

Morgan Belmont in his World War I Army uniform.  War Records of the Knickerbocker Club 1914-1918 (1922 - copyright expired)

Alice Wheelock and Erwin Hoy Watts moved in following their wedding on October 1, 1927.  Alice was the granddaughter of Dr. and Mrs. Morgan Dix on her maternal side and Dr. and Mrs. George G. Wheelock on her father's.  Born in 1903, the young groom was the son of cotton goods magnate Ridley Watts and was a member of the Chemical National Bank.

Radio stations were often installed in upscale hotels and on October 11, 1927, The New York Times reported, "An hour of luncheon music will be broadcast at 1 o'clock daily except Sunday over WABC direct from the Barclay Hotel."

Andrew H. Nutting, another initial resident, was the son of Andrew Jackson Nutting, founder of A. J. Nutting & Co.  The senior Nutting died on September 4, 1924 and his estate was divided equally among Andrew and his two sisters.  Like the Morgan Belmonts, residents of the Barclay Hotel spent their summers in their country homes or fashionable resorts.  On March 13, 1928, The New York Times reported that Andrew H. Nutting had purchased "the Hanna property at Boar's Head, Rye Beach, N. H., and will erect a residence there this Spring."

A postcard depicted the Nutting country home.

Resident Robert J. Upson graduated from Princeton University in 1921.  He joined the National Bank of Commerce in 1923 and became its assistant trust officer in 1927.  The unmarried 29-year-old went to Flushing, New York on March 29, 1928 to visit Charles G. Muller.  The next night at around 11:00, he left in a taxicab heading for the train station to return to Manhattan.

The following morning, his body was found on the elevated railroad crossing about 200 yards from the Flushing station.  Mysteriously, The New York Times reported, "he had been run over by a train at about 11:30 o'clock Thursday evening."



The Barclay Hotel reserved a number of suites for well-heeled transient guests.  Arthur Morgan Smith was described by The New York Times as a "Harvard graduate and wealthy Clevelander."  On April 10, 1929, he attended a bridge party held by socialite Florence Schuette in the Hotel Marguery.   Smith was smitten by another guest, Mrs. Robert L. Brown, who was staying in the Plaza Hotel.  The party broke up at just before 2:30 a.m.  A guest offered Smith a ride, "but he refused, saying it was just a short distance to his hotel, and he would walk," reported The New York Times.  In fact, Smith was intent on escorting Mrs. Brown to her hotel.

Equally intent on accompanying Mrs. Brown was another guest, Samuel E. Bell, a "well-to-do oil producer."  Bell won the argument, but not before shoving Smith to the pavement as he climbed into a taxi with Mrs. Brown.  Smith was arrested for intoxication a few minutes later on Park Avenue.  Later it became clear that he was not drunk--he had suffered a fractured skull in the fall to the curb.  He died the following afternoon.


Two views of the Art Deco cafe.  photographs by Samuel H. Gottscho, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The ballroom and meeting rooms could be rented by groups or, in some cases, individuals.  Such was the case in February 1937 when Amelia Earhart held a press conference to announce her intentions to fly a Lockheed Electra airplane around the world.  Fred Noonan, a Pan American Airways navigator, she said, would accompany her as navigator.

Ironically, following Earhart's disappearance in July her husband, George P. Putnam, moved into a suite in the Barclay Hotel where he followed the newspaper accounts of the search for his wife.  The New York Times said, "One, bearing the headline 'Sold Down the River,' essentially blamed Putnam for his wife's death, asserting that her failure to find Howland Island was because of inadequate equipment."  According to his assistant, Harold McCracken, "Then he took all the clippings and let them slip out of his hands into a wastepaper basket."

In October 1938, the Cornell Club of New York leased the 30,000-square-foot third floor.  It was accessed by a private entrance at 107 East 48th Street.  On October 17, The New York Times reported that Cross & Cross would remodel the floor "to provide a main dining room and three private rooms, grill, library and lounges, card and billiard rooms and a ladies' department."  There were, as well, 39 bedrooms and suites for resident members.

By midcentury, the Barclay Hotel was increasingly hosting transient guests.  The wealthy visitors, in some instances, became attractive targets for robbers.  On October 11, 1951, The New York Times reported that $10,400 worth of jewelry had "disappeared" from a suite.  Henry Rand, vice president of the International Shoe Company in St. Louis, and his wife and daughter had stepped out.  When they returned around midnight, they discovered the theft. 

Six months later, on April 29, 1952, the newspaper reported, "Jewelry valued at $2,700 was stolen last night from Sheik Asad Al Facih, Saudi-Arabian Ambassador to the United States."  Included in the heist were "an Indian necklace set with rubies and pearls and valued at $2,000, and a man's gold-and-ruby ring valued at $650 and a man's wedding ring valued at $50," said that article.  The total value would translate to about $32,700 today.

At the time of the article, the management offered a unique service to its transient guests.  On November 9, 1955, The New York Times noted, "The Barclay Hotel cares for transient's canaries; boards them in the lobby cage with its own yellow birds and finches."  That cage had become an attraction.  Decades later, architectural critic David W. Dunlap would recall his visit to New York City with his mother at the age of nine in 1962.  They stayed at the Barclay Hotel and Dunlap wrote in his diary, "In the middle of the lobby there is a cage of 9 song birds."

The Barclay Hotel continued to be the permanent home to well-heeled residents over the subsequent decades, among them actress Amy Busby who debuted on the stage in 1889; Municipal Court Justice George L. Genung; and author Norman Beasley.

The Cornell Club moved out in the mid-1960s and the third floor space was next occupied by the Manhattan Club, who moved from its clubhouse, the former Jerome Mansion, on Madison Avenue in November 1966.  

In July 1978, InterContinental Hotels purchased the Barclay Hotel.  The following year, $37 million in financing was acquired "in connection with the purchase and planned renovation," reported The New York Times.  Saying the renovations would be completed in 1981, the article noted, "the company planned to make the Barclay the flagship of its worldwide chain of 80 hotels."

The hotel was renovated again, re-opening in April 2016.  In reporting on the renovations in The New York Times on February 28, David W. Dunlap remembered the cage of canaries and finches, saying, "the song birds are long gone."  The InterContinental designers, however, gave a nod to the beloved fixture.  The new revolving door mimicked the cage with swirling birds.

photo by Pablo Enriquez for The New York Times, April 28, 2016

Two new ballrooms on the second floor necessitated the removal of the lobby's dome.  The exterior of the hotel, "as confident and debonair as Gene Kelly on a dance floor," as described by journalist Christopher Gray, was not touched.

photograph by Jim Henderson

many thanks to reader Kevin Cross for suggesting this post.