The 1883 Frank B. Houghton House - 30 West 130th Street

image via zillow.com

In 1844, when Harlem was still dotted with farms and country estates, John Jacob Astor I acquired a portion of two farms for $10,000 (about $445,000 in 2026).  Upon his death in 1848, the blockfront that would become West 130th Street between Fifth and Lenox Avenues was inherited by his son, William Backhouse Astor.  It passed to William Backhouse Astor, Jr. in 1875.  

The blockfront would become lined with 28 private homes, erected in three groups.  Architect Charles Buek designed the first--8 through 22 West 130th Street--in 1880.  They were completed in 1881 and the following year ground was broken for the second group, 22 through 38.  (The final section, 40 through 62, would be completed in 1883.)  No doubt to reduce costs, it appears that the builder simply followed Charles Buek's original designs in erecting 22 through 62 West 103rd Street, since there is no architect of record.  The resultant row was called "the Block Beautiful" in Claude McKay's 1928 novel Home to Harlem.

30 West 130th Street is the second from left.  image via streeteasy.com

Designed as mirror-image pairs separated by a carriage drive that accessed the rear yards, the homes were three stories tall above short basements.  Their neo-Grec-style facades were clad in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Generous gardens fronted delightful wooden porches.  Dentiled brick cornices sat above brick friezes decorated with recessed quatrefoil designs.

Astor retained possession of the houses, leasing them as rental income.  His first tenant of 30 West 130th Street was Frank R. Houghton, a real estate agent, and his widowed step-mother, Virginia Patten Houghton.  Frank was born in Halifax, Vermont in 1825 to Royall and Sarah Farrell.  Sarah died in 1851 and Royall married Virginia Patten in May that same year.

In the spring of 1886, Virginia Patten Houghton was in Pass, Mississippi where she died "suddenly," according to the New-York Tribune, on April 3.  Her funeral was held in the 130th Street house on April 10.

There would be another funeral in the parlor before long.  Frank Houghton moved away soon after his step-mother's death and the next tenant, Peter Asten, died in the house at the age of 84 on January 16, 1887.  His funeral was held two days later.

The house next became home to Thomas C. and William McAlpine Wiswall, partners in the Pennsylvania-based Wiswall Paint Co., and their families.  Thomas C. Wiswall was the company's president and a sergeant in the Seventh Regiment of the New York National Guard.  He and his wife, the former Mary Brown, had no children.

Thomas C. Wiswall, Seventh Regiment Gazette, October 1923, (copyright expired)

William McAlpine Wiswall was born 1841 in Troy, New York but was educated in Port Austin, Michigan.  The New York Times would recall that one of his teachers was James A. Garfield.  William's wife was Louisa Bishop Chatterton, and also living here were Louise's parents, Thomas and Adeline M. Bishop Chatterton.  

Thomas Chatterton was born in New Haven, Connecticut in 1818 and started out as a merchant tailor there.  The New Haven Morning & Courier would recall, "he rapidly won favor, patronage and success, but his energetic spirit craving a larger field, he removed to New York."  Chatterton engaged in the wholesale, ready-made clothing business.  He retired in the 1880s.  Each year, Thomas Chatterton would return to New Haven to spend his summers at the Branford Point House.

Louisa Bishop Wiswall died in the house on September 26, 1895 at the age of 51.  Interestingly, her funeral was not held in the parlor, but at the Church of the Puritans on 130th Street at Fifth Avenue.

In 1897 Thomas Chatterton was the treasurer of the first panel of the Sheriff's Jury, a non-judicial group that assisted the Sheriff's Department in administrative work.  In January 1898, the 80-year-old attended the group's annual dinner at Delmonico's and during the evening he became ill.  He died in the 130th Street house two weeks later, on February 6.  His funeral was held in the parlor on the 9th.

Adeline Bishop Chatterton survived her husband by four years.  She died at the age of 79 on February 7, 1902.  Her funeral, too, was held in the house.

William Astor bequeathed the 130th Street row to his grandchildren, Mary, James and Sarah Van Alen.  In 1902, they sold 30 West 130th Street to Fannie and Ferdinand Braun, who operated it as a boarding house.

Among their early residents were William P. Kelly and his family, who would remain at least through 1909.  The parlor of 30 West 130th Street, which had frequently been used for funerals, was the setting of Emma Foord Kelly's marriage to Samuel Pierre Hull on October 24, 1906.

A less respectable boarder was Louisa Marcarious, who was arrested in her rooms on April 20, 1907.  Born in New Orleans in 1883, she was described by The New York Times as being "well dressed and is apparently an educated woman."  She was charged with "receiving stolen goods" from her accomplices, described by the newspaper as "two negroes" who "seemed uncouth companions for the refined-looking white woman."

The complainant against Louisa Marcarious and her cohorts was Margaret Melbourne, who said, "her home had been robbed of silverware and other property on June 4, 1906."  Some of her stolen silverware was discovered in "the rooms of the Marcarious woman and her companions."  The article said that another burglary victim had been asked to inspect "the loot recovered" in hopes they could identify "plunder stolen from his house."

Louisa Marcarious was an anomaly among the otherwise upstanding boarders, like the family of Thaddeus Moriarty, for instance, who occupied rooms in 1911.  Daughter Theresa S. Moriarty was president of the Ladies' Ursuline Provincial Auxiliary, a philanthropic and social group.  And on June 23, 1911, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Thaddeus Moriarty and Miss Theresa S. Moriarty of 30 West 130th Street are at the North End Hotel, in Ocean Grove, N.J., until the end of August."

Susan L. Pierce purchased the house in March 1921.  She operated it as a rooming house, and among her first roomers was Elbert Butler.  He was arrested on February 1, 1923, for spitting in a subway station.  In imposing a $5 fine, the infuriated magistrate railed, "It is a disgrace the way every subway station is filled with men smoking and spitting on the platform and the track bed and nothing is done about it."

The wooden porch was painted in several colors in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Reords & Information Services.

By the World War II era, the Harlem neighborhood was predominantly black and racial tensions were high throughout the city.  On March 19, 1943, The New York Times began an article saying, "While three Negro youths were being held in the stabbing early yesterday of a 17-year-old youth in a Harlem 'racial' fight, it was announced that 150 rookie policemen have been assigned to the Harlem area."

The incident began when, according to police, "a gang of twenty Negroes crowded around Nick Adams, 17, of 42 East 129th Street, as he was standing in front of his house."  One of the teens demanded, "Are you a white boy?"

Adams replied, "I'm a gypsy."

The gang attacked and Adams attempted to fight back until he was fatally stabbed in the back.  Police arrived in time to arrest three of the gang members, including 19-year-old James Green who lived at 30 West 130th Street.

In 1981, the house next door was vacant and boarded up, a fertile target for vandals.  photograph by Andrew Dolkart via the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission.

By the last quarter of the 20th century, the house next door was vacant and neglected.  Although the Landmarks Preservation Commission sued the owner in an effort to pressure him to repair the seriously dilapidated structure, it was demolished in 2021, leaving No. 30 isolated along what was now known as Astor Row.

image via streeteasy.com

Today there are 11 apartments in 30 West 130th Street.  More than a bit bedraggled, it nevertheless survives as part of a forward thinking community-planned project by one of Manhattan's wealthiest 19th century figures.

The Hotel Albert - University Place and 11th Street

 

Midway between two elegant residential enclaves--Washington Square and Union Square--the block of East 11th Street between University Place and Broadway was lined with elegant Greek Revival and Italianate homes in the mid-1850s.  In 1875, businessman Albert S. Rosenbaum hired architect James Irving Howard to convert three of them--32 through 36 East 11th Street--into a hotel.  (The addresses would be renumbered 46 to 50 later.)  Containing 120 rooms, the Hotel St. Stephen was opened in 1876 under the proprietorship of hotelier William Ryder.

An advertisement on October 8, 1876 read:

11th St. West, Nos. 32, 34, 36--Elegant Rooms, newly furnished, stationary washstands, ample closets, all conveniences, with or without Board; terms very moderate; strictly first class.  Hotel St. Stephens [sic].

The History and Commerce of New York called the St. Stephen, "one of the best appointed hotels in a city noted for its superior hotel accommodations."  Rates "are $1.00 per day and upward," said the article.  The base figure would translate to about $35.50 in 2026.

Soon after opening, the hotel was nearly the victim of a sneak thief.  On November 28, 1876, Henry Bird checked in.  That evening, a clerk, De Witt Bogardus, walked through the halls "to see if everything was right," according to the New York Herald.  He saw Bird, "leave his room and stealthily secret something under the carpet of the main corridor."  Bogardus summoned Detective Slevin who discovered that Bird had hidden a pair of "nippers."  Slevin said they "are used by hotel thieves for opening room doors."  When Bird could not provide an explanation, he was arrested for carrying burglars' tools.

In 1882, Albert S. Rosenbaum increased his enterprise by erecting the Hotel Albert, an apartment hotel, abutting the St. Stephen at the corner.  Henry Janesway Hardenberg (who was simultaneously working on the Western Union Telegraph Building and a long row of houses on West 73rd Street off Central Park West), was the architect.  As he had done in his Dakota Apartment two years earlier, he creatively blended styles--in this case French Renaissance and Queen Anne.  William D. Ryder now managed both properties for Rosenbaum.

An advertisement on November 5, 1883 called The Albert, "One of the finest furnished and safest apartment-houses in New-York City."  Almost as a post script, "Also, Hotel St. Stephen," was added at the bottom.

Stereopticon slide by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The two venues coexisted--the St. Stephen as a transient hotel and The Albert as an apartment house.  Perhaps the first artistic figure to patronize either of them was writer Robert Lewis Stevenson, who occupied rooms in the St. Stephen in 1888.  In January 1919, The New York Times recalled his posing for Auguste Saint-Gaudens for his "medallion portrait."  The article said, "His method of 'sitting for his portrait,' however, was to lie, always smoking his inevitable cigarettes, in his bed in the old Hotel St. Stephen."

Living in The Hotel Albert in 1890 were Charles and Anne G. Rhind and their 47-year-old daughter Frances.  They were members of "one of the oldest Southern families in the city," according to The Evening World, and "belong to an ultra-fashionable set."  

At around 1:00 on the morning of December 14, T. P. Sorrenson, who was staying in the St. Stephen and whose rooms looked into the courtyard, "saw a white object pass his window," as reported by the New-York Tribune.  The object, it turned out, was Frances Rhind in a suicidal plunge. 

Living in The Albert in the 1890s was author Kate Douglas Wiggins, best known for her novel and stage play Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.  

An seventh floor was added to the Hotel Albert in 1891 and by 1895 the two operations were merged as the Hotel Albert-St. Stephen.

An 1896 ad touts the combined hotels. (copyright expired)

The operation continued to expand.  In 1903 the architectural firm of Buchman & Fox was hired to design a 12-story addition at 67 University Place.  The architects' design made no attempt to meld into the earlier structure.  An advertisement in the September 1906 issue of American Education listed the room rates at "$1 per day up.  100 rooms with private bath $2 per day up."

The addition was depicted in an advertisement in American Education in September 1906 (copyright expired)

In 1918, the Knott Hotels took over the management of the complex.  It wasted little time to disassociate the vintage St. Stephen buildings from the hotel operation.  On May 19, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that the A. S. Rosenbaum estate had leased the Hotel St. Stephen building, "a landmark of the University place section," to the Bonar Phelphs Company, "manufacturer of straw hats."  The article said the firm intended to "convert the hotel into a mercantile structure."

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

With the loss of significant income-producing square footage, the operation, like a kudzu vine, again expanded southward.  In 1922 The Caterer reported, "The Knott Hotels will add 150 rooms to the Hotel Albert...The annex will be ready for the fall."  The six-story building, at the northeast corner of University Place and 10th Street opened in 1924.  Designed by William L. Bottomley with Sugarman, Hess & Berger, it, too, did not attempt to meld into the earlier structures.

An announcement in The New York Evening Post informed the public, "We have opened [a] new addition of 119 rooms in Hotel Albert.  This addition faces Southwest at corner of University Place and 10th Street."  The "permanent occupancy" rooms and baths rented for $75 to $100 a month.  (The most expensive rent equal to $1,840 in 2026.)

By the 1960s, rooms in the Hotel Albert were rented by the week.  An advertisement in July 1970 listed the rents for a room with private back starting at $40 a week, and for rooms with shared baths starting at $23.

An article in The Villager on August 28, 1969, recounted the hotel's celebrated guests over the decades.  "It is believed that Jennie Lind, Edwin Booth and Thomas Edison were patrons of the hotel," said the article.  At the time of that article, embedded letters spelling out "Hotel St. Stephen" were still visible in the stone sidewalk on East 11th Street.

The article missed a few names.  Decades later The New York Times columnist Christopher Gray would recall,

Hart Crane wrote part of his 1930 poem "The Bridge" while there, and Thomas Wolfe used it as inspiration for the Hotel Leopold in his 1935 novel "Of Time and the River...It became the crash pad for rock musicians, checking in the Electric Flag, Canned Heat, Cream, Paul Butterfield and the Blues Project.

In 1975, the Rockrose Development Corporation acquired the complex.  It evicted the residents and on December 30, 1976, The Villager reported that the developer "is trying to recapture, if not its most glamorous past, at least a touch of the elegance that was associated with the Hotel Albert a half-century ago."  The now-vacant buildings, said the article, "are being renovated into luxury apartments for what the developers call 'brownstone-type' living with the advantages of doormen and elevators."

The architecturally dissimilar buildings that made up the Hotel Albert retained the historic name following the renovation.  Originally rental apartments, the Albert became a co-op in 1984.

photographs by the author

The 1837 Jonas Wood House - 285 East Third Street

photograph by Carole Teller

 

In 1837, just 26 years after the Commissioners' Plan laid out on paper the streets that would dissect lands owned by Nicholas and Elizabeth Fish, ship carver Charles Dodge erected a row of six brick-faced homes on the north side of the newly opened Third Street between Avenues C and D.  Three stories tall and 22-feet-wide above English basements, the houses reflected the emerging Greek Revival style.  The builder arranged them as three mirror-image pairs that shared a stoop divided by a wing wall and iron railing.  The side-by-side doorways were framed by brownstone pilasters that upheld a single-layered entablature and molded cornice.

Attorney Jonas Wood first occupied 285 Third Street (the "East" in the address would be added in the early 1860s).  Highly involved in local politics, he had run for assemblyman in 1833.   He was, as well, a "trustee of the funds" of the Eight Ward Mutual Assurance Association.

The house saw a succession of residents through the 1840s and 1850s.  Charles H. Hillard was listed here in 1845; Robert I. Furney, a teacher in Public School No. 13 on Madison Street in 1847; and engineer Charles Garrison in 1850 and '51.

In 1852 Frances M. Murray and her daughters moved in, almost assuredly leasing the house.  Born in 1797, she was the widow of Thomas Murray.  

The two eldest daughters, Frances J. and Anna Murray, worked in Public School No. 22 on the corner of Stanton and Sheriff Streets in 1852.  Francis was the principal of the Girls' Department and Anna was a teacher.  Their positions were reflected in the women's salaries.  Francis earned $600 a year, and Anna $200.  (The figures would translate to $23,000 and $7,680 in 2026.)  Their younger sister, Louisa, would also become a teacher and in 1858 she worked at P. S. No. 15 on Fifth Street. 

Like many middle-class widows, Frances M. Murray took in boarders.  Living here that first year were Frederick Bevin, a real estate agent, and seaman David Hall.

Frances M. Murray moved to 817 East 4th Street in 1864.  She died there on March 8, 1869.

No. 285 East 3rd Street continued to house boarders.  Living here in 1864 were William Raise; Jacob Basch, a turner (the operator of a lathe to make items like spindles); and cigarmaker Samuel Goldberg.  Nicholas Baum, a smith, occupied the smaller house in the rear yard.

Although William Raise still listed his address at 285 Third Street that year, he was off fighting with the Union Army.  On July 15, 1864, he and 127 other Union guards were transporting 833 Confederate prisoners of war from Point Lookout, Maryland to Elmira, New New York on a 17-car train pulled by a wood-burning steam locomotive.

At around 2:45 p.m. the train collided head-on with a coal train at Shohola Township, Pennsylvania, about 19 miles from Port Jervis, New York.  At least 51 Confederal soldiers and 17 Union guards were killed instantly or within a day after.  The next day, the Troy, New York Daily Whig reported that among those who were injured, but not killed, at "Shin Hollow," was William Raise.

The Levy Hirsch family first occupied 285 East 3rd Street around 1867.  A cigarmaker, his family also took in boarders.  In 1868 tailor Michael Durmann occupied the rear house; and Simon Falk and Andrew Lynch lived with the Hirsches.  Simon Falk listed his profession as "segars," suggesting that he worked for Hirsch; and Lynch was a carpenter.

Jacob Kettner, who purchased 285 East 3rd Street around 1872, most likely knew Levy Hirsch.  He, too, operated a cigarmaking business.  Joseph R. Kettner worked for his father.  Boarding with the family in 1873 were fruit dealer Daniel M. Vineberg, and Maximilian Kutz, a real estate agent.

In 1876 George Davis, a police officer, boarded here and he would remain through 1879.  It was possibly his influence that prompted Joseph Kettner to leave his father's cigar business and apply to the Police Department.  In 1879, he was accepted as a patrolman earning $1,000 a year (about $33,000 today).

In March 1900, the Kettner family leased 285 East 3rd Street to Jacob and Rosa Lewis.  Jacob, who was in the clothing business, dabbled in real estate.  On May 19, 1905, for instance, The New York Times reported that he was making $5,000 in alterations to a "five-story brick tenement" at 218 East 7th Street; and in September 1909 he updated two "four-story brick tenements" on Avenue A.

The Kettner family sold the house to Abraham Heiler around 1909.  He continued to lease it to the Lewis family.  In June 1910, Heiler modernized the house by adding indoor plumbing and, importantly, "toilets."  The renovations cost him the equivalent of $52,400 today.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

After Morris Beck purchased 285 East 3rd Street in October 1921, it became a rooming house.  The Depression years saw mostly German families living here.  Among the residents in 1932, for instance, were the Waldstreichers, who operated a grocery store at 256 East 3rd Street, and Dr. Leo Rosenberg.

The third quarter of the 20th century started badly for 285 East Third Street.  When a two-alarm fire broke out in June 1972, The New York Times described it as being vacant.

But then, as early as 1984, I. Reed Books operated from the house.  And by the mid-1990s, Steven Cannon's "Gathering of the Tribes" was here.  It included the Tribes Gallery and space for emerging artists to network, trade ideas, and expose their works.

On January 5, 2001, in reporting on its latest exhibition, The New York Times journalist Holland Cotter described the Tribes Gallery, saying in part:

Tribe's latest offering has ambitions as big as the venue is small.  Organized by Christine Wang, it squeezes inself into three rooms, climbing up walls and spilling from shelves.  Three dozen or so international artists, several well known, jostle for attention.

On May 23, 2012, Stephen Rex Brown, writing in The New York Times, began an article saying, "Yesterday the founder of the art space at 285 East Third Street, Steve Cannon, was served with a formal '10-day notice of termination' for 'continued use of the premises as an office and art gallery, which is contracted to the lawful usage permitted by the certificate of occupancy for the building."

A year earlier, the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation had begun a push to have 285 and 287 East 3rd Street designated individual landmarks.  It cited the importance of No. 285 in Black History (because of its connection with Steve Cannon and the Gathering of the Tribes), and the significance of both buildings as being "highly intact Greek Revival" examples.

photograph by Carole Teller

The last two survivors of Charles Dodge's 1837 row, the pair has managed to escape the brutalization or demolition of similar relics in the East Village.  Neither has landmark protection at this writing.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1916 Remsen Building - 148 Madison Avenue

 

photograph by acronson

Born on February 7, 1856, Dr. Charles Remsen was the grandson of Benjamin Remsen, who served as secretary to Thomas Jefferson.  In 1915, he commissioned Wallis & Goodwillie to design a 16-story commercial building at the southwest corner of Madison Avenue and 32nd Street.  The firm's plans projected the cost at $200,000--about $6.6 million in 2026 terms.

The Remsen Building's tripartite design included a four-story, terra cotta-clad base.  Above each entrance (and enlivening what would otherwise be a monotonous quilt of plain and foliate tiles) were complex triptych Gothic arches in front of leaded glass.  Crowning the center of each was a commanding Gothic hood.

photograph by acronson

The upper building was faced in gray brick, its spartan nine-story midsection nearly unadorned.  The 13th floor anticipated the much more decorated top section.  A terra cotta cornice below the center windows--three bays wide on Madison Avenue and six bays wide on the side elevation--and a Gothic curtain of trefoil rondels ran above them.  Triple height terra cotta pilasters supported a projecting band course below the cornice, decorated with Gothic quatrefoils.

photograph by frog17

As construction neared completion, on December 31, 1916 The New York Times mentioned "the Remsen Building has ten of its sixteen floors leased."  Saying that its "Gothic treatment arrests attention in this mercantile centre," the article added, "No manufacturing is allowed."  Charles Remsen intended that the new building would house only "showrooms."  

The Evening Post, November 11, 1916 (copyright expired)

Among the to first to move in was I. A. Harris & Brother.  On December 10, 1916, the New-York Tribune reported that the firm "are to be the tenants of Dr. Charles Remsen's building."  The firm manufactured dresses.  The ground floor store was leased to the Egypt Silk Mills Corporation.  Other initial tenants were Perling & Maer, makers of coats and suits, which occupied the seventh floor; Isidore Levy & Co., "sport suit" manufacturers; and Halprin-Silverman Co., makers of dresses.

The New York Times, April 1, 1919 (copyright expired)

One tenant that was decidedly not in the apparel field was James C. Crane, distributor and representative of cosmetics.  It was, for instance, the sole agent of Creme Elcaya, which it advertised as "a non-greasy disappearing toilet cream that would protect and beautify the skin under face powder."  When America joined World War I, James C. Crane's personal office did double-duty as the headquarters of the Liberty Loan Committee.

Wholesale dry goods and apparel firms continued to lease space in the post-World War I years.  C. H. D. Robbins Company, makers of women's "high class dresses," was here in 1920; Floerscheimer Company occupied space by February 1921 when a city-wide strike by the Dress and Waist Manufacturers' Association resulted in loud picketers along the Madison Avenue sidewalk.  The Morgan Knitting Mills, Inc. signed a lease early in 1923; the following year the newly formed Leibler-Goldsmith Company moved in (The New York Times said it "will make tailored dresses for misses and young women and also more mature garments); and by 1926 the Mohawk Knitting Mills, Inc. occupied space here.

Hubert, Moulton & Company, Inc. had its showroom here as early as 1929.  The firm produced fabrics for drapery manufacturers.  It advertised its new offerings in the January 1930 of The Upholsterer and Interior Decorator using terms only its customers could decipher.  It boasted its new "echatones," for instance.  "A superb line of 36 inch Cretonne, processed by etching, entirely different from ordinary printing.  In the newest colors."

The New York offices and showrooms of the Susquehanna Silk Mills, Inc. were here by 1924.  Like a scene plucked from a Western movie, on the morning of May 1 that year, armed robbers held up the firm's truck and got away with $35,000 of silk goods.  (The heist would translate to about $659,000 today.)  

Two New York City Police detectives went undercover, posing as silk salesmen.  They successfully caught the three men--all respected businessmen--who were behind the holdup.  Two were silk merchants and the other an attorne

A different type of tenant took over the entire ground floor in 1933 when A. Beshar & C0., Inc. moved in.  Formed in 1898, the firm imported Oriental rugs and carpets.  Other major lessees in the building in the 1930s were J. H. Erstein & Brother, "ribbons and general merchandise," which occupied the third and fourth floors; upholstery fabrics dealers Rousmaniere Williams Corporation; and Barbizon Corporation, makers of the Barbizon brand of women's undergarments.

Nearly all the tenants of the Remsen Building continued to  be textile and fashion firms.  In the 1960s, for instance, Vogue Lingerie operated here.

image via loopnet.com

The entrance doors and ground floor windows have been changed.  Happily, despite not having landmark protection, none of the terra cotta details have been vandalized by modernization.  Their intricate designs create a striking presence on the Madison Avenue corner.

The James and Euphemia Russell House - 44 West 87th Street

 

Having trained in the architectural firm of Duggin & Crossman, Charles Buek established Charles Buek & Co. in 1880.  The development-construction firm doubled as its own architect.  Within a decade, Charles Buek & Co. was one of the most well-known firms in the industry.  On February 21, 1891, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the firm "will shortly commence the erection of six four-story brick and limestone front dwellings on the south side of 87th street, 100 feet east of Columbus Avenue."

Completed in 1892, Nos. 40 through 50 West 87th Street were designed in a refined version of Romanesque Revival.  No. 44 West 87th Street was twenty-three-feet wide, and its basement and parlor levels were clad in rough cut limestone.  A dog-legged box stoop mirrored that of its next door at No. 46.  The two-story midsection was faced in brick.  Grouped windows at the second floor were framed in limestone, distinguished by pilasters with ornate Corinthian capitals.  The fourth floor sat atop an intricately carved cornice.  Its slightly projecting center section held paired openings.  Their limestone frame was anchored by large, swirling volutes.  Directly above was a triangular pediment with a charming daisy rondel.

James and Euphemia Russell purchased the mansion from Charles Buek in February 1893 for $44,500, or about $1.4 million in 2026 terms.  Born in 1827 and 1841 respectively, the couple had four children, Marguerite, George Dunlap, May Isabelle, and Rachel (known as Ray) MacMaster.  The family's country home, Sunny Side, was near Mount Vernon, New York.

George, who had married the previous year, was the only sibling who did not move into the West 87th Street house.  May and Ray were single, and Margaruerite was married to her father's business partner, Charles S. Rees.  The men composed James Rees & Sons, Co., "boiler, engine and steamboat builders," and Russell & Rees, which operated the Continental Brewery.  

Charles S. Rees was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on December 5, 1860.  He graduated from Western University of Pennsylvania. 

Described by The New York Times later as the Russells' "palatial residence," 44 West 87th Street was filled with valuable artwork and antiques.  An inventory held in 1906 described "a valuable collection of Oil Paintings, comprising about one hundred canvases, many by prominent American and Foreign artists."  The parlor, or "salon," was furnished in "Marie Antoinette and Louis Seize," and the music room in Louis XVI.

The Russell women were highly involved in the Woman's Wards of the New York Post-Graduate Hospital.  Margaruerite Rees was president, Ray MacMaster Russell was secretary and treasurer, and Euphemia was an associate member.

Just two years after purchasing 44 West 87th Street, James Russell died.  

Isabelle married Isaac Hallam Jenney in 1898.  (The bride was 17 and the groom 26.)  The couple moved into the West 87th Street mansion.  Isaac Jenney was born in 1871 "in the American consular residence at Bogata, Columbia," as explained by the New York Herald, and graduated from Yale in 1892.  When he married May, he was working as an importer.  Two years later, on February 24, 1900, Marie Jenney was born.  

Society was abuzz in the spring of 1902 when Ray MacMaster Russell's engagement to millionaire Hector H. Havemeyer was announced.  The ceremony was to be held in the Madison Avenue Reformed Church and The New York Times said it "will be a large wedding."  And, indeed, on April 17 the New York Herald headlined an article, "Miss Ray Russell Becomes A Bride / Throng at Church to See Ceremony Which Made her Mrs. Havemeyer."  A who's-who of high society attended the ceremony, including Goulds, Gilseys, Ballards and Mackays.

Before long, Havemeyer, his friend, Peter Gilsey, and Isaac Hallam Jenney formed the real estate company, Gilsey, Havemeyer & Jenney.  

The extended family left 44 West 87th Street in 1902, although Euphemia retained possession.  She leased the house for the winter social season of 1902 to author and playwright Frances Hodgson Burnett.  In her 1927 biography, The Romantick Lady (Frances Hodgson Burnett), Vivian Burnett writes, "Situated in the middle of the block, it was far enough from heavy traffic to give Mrs. Burnett something of the quiet she needed."

Frances Burnett posed for photographer Herbert Rose Barraud in 1886 (copyright expired)

Born in 1848, Burnett had written the children's novel Little Lord Fauntleroy in 1886.  She would later produce two other popular children's works, the 1905 A Little Princess and The Secret Garden, released in 1911.  

The following year, Euphemia leased 44 West 87th Street to Ernest Benjamin Fahnestock and his wife, the former Abby Caroline Rhodes.  Fahnestock was the vice-president and general manager of the Fahnestock Transmitter Co.

Not surprisingly, when Euphemia Russell placed the house for sale in 1906, it was handled by Gilsey, Havemeyer & Jenney.  The property was sold to Dr. Abram Richard Stern and his wife, the former Stella Lichtenstein, in May.

Born on July 21, 1874, Stern was a graduate of Columbia University's College of Physicians and Surgeons.  He additionally studied in Berlin and Vienna.  At the time of the purchase, he was Adjunct Assistant Attending Physician at Mt. Sinai Hospital.  He and Stella had two children, Richard and Stella Benita. 

Stern's patients ranged from theatrical to society figures.  In December 1907, for instance, he was called to the home of actress Julia Sanderson (who was in private life Mrs. Tod Sloan).  Sanderson had been appearing in The Dairy Maids even though she was feeling unwell.  Finally, she could not continue.  On December 3, The New York Times reported that Stern "diagnosed the case as typhoid."  And when the young and wealthy socialite Mrs. George A. Oppenheimer committed suicide on October 19, 1913, it was Dr. Stern who was called to the scene.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Among the Sterns' domestic staff in 1919 was their governess, 60-year-old Clarice Deckwis.  She left the house on the evening of October 7 and did not return.  At the corner of 106th Street and Fifth Avenue, Clarice had been hit by an automobile and seriously injured.  She was still unconscious in Mt. Sinai Hospital the following night when Dr. Stern identified her.  She had suffered a fractured skull and three broken ribs.

The Sterns remained at 44 West 87th Street until September 1940, when they sold the house to Joseph Kamert for $40,000 (about $894,000 today).  

It appears that Kamert rented rooms in the former mansion, and among his first tenant was Paul Bante.  The 44-year-old iron worker was born in Germany, but was a naturalized American citizen.  Bante brought nationwide attention to 44 West 87th Street when The New York Times reported on July 1, 1941 that he had been arrested as a member of a German spy ring.  He and 32 others were indicted 15 days later, accused "of having acted as agents" for the Nazi Government.   The New York Sun reported on January 2, 1942, that he had been sentenced to 18 months in a Federal penitentiary and a fine of $1,000.

A renovation completed in 2011 resulted in an office in the basement level and eight apartments in the upper floors.

photographs by the author

The Lost 7th Precinct Station House - 247 Madison Street

from the collection of the New York Public Library

On August 2, 1860, the New-York Daily Tribune reported, "A protest was received from various citizens in the Seventh Ward against the purchase by the city of the lots at Nos. 245 and 247 Madison street, for a new Station House in that Ward."  The citizens were not opposed to a new police station in their neighborhood, they were outraged by the cost.  The article said, "the original owner of the property was willing to take $9,000 for the property, but the [city offered] $15,000 for it."  Despite the grievances, the following day the Board of Alderman passed a resolution "to secure the premises Nos. 245 and 247 Madison street...at a price not exceeding $15,000."

The police department's architect produced a stylish Italianate-style station house.  The fully arched openings were, most likely, ornamented with molded lintels or architraves.  Dimension was achieved by slightly projecting the central three-bay wide section.  A corbelled cast metal cornice with a triangular pediment completed the design.  (A separate building in the rear yard housed the holding cells for prisoners.)

from the collection of the New York Public Library

Shortly after ground was broken for the 7th Precinct Station house, the first shot of the Civil War was fired.  The building was completed and fully staffed when one of the darkest periods in New York City history took place--the Draft Riots.  A revolt over the nation's first attempt at a military draft began with a lottery on July 11, 1863.  The first 1,200 names drawn came overwhelmingly from the city's poor and immigrant population.  Wealthy families had bought exemptions to exclude their sons.

At around 6:30 on the morning of July 13, 1863, riots erupted.  The resulting three-day reign of terror and carnage was unlike anything seen in the country before.  Innocent people were murdered, and draft offices, newspaper buildings, and the homes and neighborhoods of the city’s black population were burned.  The 7th Precinct officers were deployed to "sharp fighting," as described by The New York Times, throughout the district.  The newspaper said that on that first day, the officers staged an "attack upon and severe usage of the rioters at Broadway and Amity-street [later Third Street]."  

On the second day, Henry F. O'Brien, the black colonel of the 11th New York Volunteer Infantry Regiment, was spotted on Second Avenue.  He was surrounded by a vicious gang and for more than an hour he was pummeled with rocks and kicked.  He was then carried to a house where he was tortured to death and his body butchered beyond recognition.  Civilians who attempted to intervene were attacked by the mob.

The New York Times reported that Captain Bennett and men of the 7th Precinct were "detailed, with a company of military, to visit Thirty-fourth-street, where Col. O'Brien was so horribly murdered, to recover the body."  

In recapping the mayhem, on August 9, 1863 The New York Times remarked, "The officers and men of this Precinct saw considerable service during the week, and sustained the good repute hitherto attached to them."

In the summer of 1870, three 7th Precinct beat officers--Wild, Shalvey and Jarboe--revealed their sharp focus and concentration.  A year earlier, in April 1869, John Kelly, "alias John Wilson, alias 'Paddy Barry,'" according to The Evening Post, was sentenced to two-and-a-half years in Sing Sing prison.  He escaped six months later.  Kelly managed to blend into the Bowery surroundings for nearly a year.  Then, at around 3:00 on the morning of August 24, 1870, the three officers nabbed him.  The Evening Post reported, "He will be returned to his old quarters to-day."

In 1872, according to the Sunday Mercury, the staff of the 7th Precinct consisted of one captain, four sergeants, 60 patrolmen, and two doormen.  (A "doorman" was the officer who manned the desk just within the front door to address questions and complaints of civilians who walked in.)  

The following year, the country was plunged into a debilitating financial depression--the Panic of 1873.  It would bring dire consequences to the already impoverished residents of the 7th Precinct.  In reporting on the "destitution" that was spreading across the city, on February 9, 1874, the New York Herald quoted Sergeant Oates.  "He thought there ought to be provision made for the wretched poor, fallen from higher estates."  

While the reporter was there, he looked around.  "Their quarters seemed well ventilated, and, not to be too complimentary, considerably the least disgusting of any of those visited."

Members of the 7th Precinct dealt with gangs and "rowdies."  On July 27, 1875, Officer Thomas F. Regan came upon a group of 15 men fighting at the corner of Madison and Scammell Streets.  Rather than call for assistance, he attempted to break up the melee single-handedly.  The mob immediately turned their focus onto the policeman.  The New-York Tribune reported, "he was knocked down, kicked, and left lying insensible on the sidewalk."  He was discovered and taken to the police station.  Regan's injuries were significant and the newspaper said "he was found to be unfit for police duty for some time."

A heart-warming incident took place here in the fall of 1896.  On October 10, a "shabbily dressed man about thirty years old," as described by The New York Times, was found prostrated in the station house doorway.  The man, Andrew Wyzandt, was deemed to be intoxicated and was locked up.

The next morning Detective Mooney escorted him to the Essex Market Police Court.  Wyzandt walked "feebly" and "stopped at garbage barrels along the walk and searched for crusts and apple cores.  When he found any he put them furtively in his pockets," reported The New York Times.

"Look here," Mooney asked, "are you really hungry?"

"I am starved."

Mooney made a detour in their route to the courthouse.  The article said that he "took him into a coffee saloon and ordered for him some chops, potatoes, rolls, and coffee."  Wyzandt merely stared at the plates when they were brought.  The New York Times said, "Losing patience, the detective held a roll under his guest's nose.  The result was magical.  Wyzandt ate the meal furiously."

Less charitably treated by a different precinct was Samuel Levi, who lived at 145 East Broadway.  On June 13, 1897, he rode his bicycle to the Queens County Park, where he fell and broke his leg.  He was taken to the nearest police station but, as reported by The Sun, "they didn't want him, nor did the hospital near by."  Finally, he was transported to the 7th Precinct Station House, arriving at about 7:30 that evening.  The article said that Sergeant MacSweeny sent for an ambulance and Levi was taken to Gouveneur Hospital "several hours after his accident."

An inspection of the brick cell building on December 13, 1911 discovered disturbing conditions.  Saying there were "two rows of cells back to back, eight on one side and seven on the other, with a passageway all around," it noted, "There are no wash-bowls and no shower baths."  The "toilets" used by prisoners were makeshift privies, "in appearance like a megaphone set into a sewer pipe."  The inspectors concluded, "The whole place is inexpressively bad and a disgrace to the city.  It should be abandoned with as little delay as possible and a modern prison built."

That did not happen and following an inspection two years later, State Prisoner Henry Solomon wrote, "This has long been known as the worst police station in the city."  Once again, he stressed that "modern sanitary" water closets should be installed, adding, "wash basins are also needed."  Instead, the rear jail building was simply shut down in 1916 and prisoners were taken to the 13th Precinct on Clinton Street.

On May 20, 1921, the New York Herald reported, "The old Seventh Precinct police station in 247 Madison street, one of the police landmarks of the city, ceased to exist at midnight last night."  The precinct was absorbed into the Oak Street and Clinton Street stations.

Two weeks later, on June 3, John Finck purchased the property "on behalf of a client," as reported by the Proceedings of the Commissioners of the Sinking Fund.  It was acquired "for the purpose of turning it into a public shower bath."  

The extensive renovations (that cost $53,000, or about $975,000 in 2026) took four years to complete.  On April 30, 1925, The New York Times reported that Borough President Julius Miller would officially open the baths the next day.  

It was probably during the bath conversion that the Victorian details were removed from the openings. via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Saying that the bath was "something very much needed in this densely populated neighborhood, Miller described:

This old police station has been entirely transformed.  The cells in the yard have been torn down, the yard cleared, a pavement laid and it is now a community playground.  There is a waiting room on the first floor, also women's shower room; on the second floor, men's shower room; and on the third floor, men's and women's shower rooms.

The Madison Street Free Baths operated until 1970.  It was demolished for the first section of the Gouverneur Healthcare Services Building.

photographer by Halil Serkan Kutun