Abortion, Murder and Kindness--347-351 West 44th Street

 

By the last quarter of the 19th century, the Hell's Kitchen district was "one of the most miserable and crime-polluted neighborhoods in this City," according to The New York Times.  On September 18, 1892, a police sergeant told the newspaper, "You were always on the defensive and carried your life n your hand if you made the streets safe for decent people.  If you chose to skulk and let the hoodlums have their own way, you were a good fellow, and never wanted for a cigar or a drink, and I have heard that some officers profited to a greater extend by being discreetly deaf, dumb, and blind."

But certain developers attempted to upgrade the neighborhood by erecting decent tenement buildings.  Five months before The New York Times article, William F. Rorack purchased the old Eagle Brewery property on West 44th Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues.  On February 18, 1892, The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that he would build eight "five-story brown stone flats"--five at 345 to 353 West 44th Street and the three others directly behind them on West 45th Street.

This photograph of the Eagle Brewery complex was taken in 1892, just before William Rorack demolished the buildings.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society.

The buildings were completed before the year's end.  Faced in brownstone and designed as a blend of R0manesque Revival and Renaissance Revival styles, they were nearly identical--their details varying only in the stone carvers' creativity.  Each entrance was flanked by layered columns, the front panels of which were decorated with elaborate Renaissance Revival carvings.  A single Corinthian capital capped the hybrid columns.

At some point, an Art Deco-style entrance door, in stark contrast to the 19th century architecture, was installed at No. 351.

The second floors were faced in vermiculated, rusticated stone.  The windows at this level were enhanced with bold, carved voussoirs.  The openings of the third and fourth floors were embraced by molded arches, each of the outer examples capped with individual mascarons, or portrait keystones.  The top floor windows were separated by paneled Corinthian piers.

Finely executed mascarons cap the outer windows of the fourth floor.

The buildings filled with working class families, their economic status reflected in position-wanted ads.  On December 4, 1892, for instance, an advertisement in The New York Times read, "Butler--By thoroughly competent, sober, and industrious man in private family; best recommendations from last employer.  Address Galbrun, 347 West 44th St."  

Among Galbrun's neighbors in the building that year was Charles H. Paulding.  The elderly man had an illustrious military background.  A veteran of the War of 1812, his maternal grandfather, Isaac F. Russell, had been aide-de-camp to Major General Morgan Lewis in the Revolutionary War.

A young unmarried woman who found herself pregnant at the time was in serious trouble.  Affluent women often slipped out of town on "pleasure trips" until the birth.  Residents of Hell's Kitchen, on the other hand, did not have that option.

Alice Whitney, who lived at 351 West 44th Street, worked as a stenographer and typist in a downtown lawyer's office.  The Evening World described her as "said to possess remarkable beauty and intelligence."  In January 1893, she sought the services of Dr. Gray-Blinn (who also practiced under the names of Blinn, Gray and Smith).  Two years earlier, in January 1891, he was arrested for performing an abortion.  Out on bail, he and his wife fled to Sweden.  Because the patient recovered, no charges were pressed and Gray-Blinn returned to New York City.

Gray-Blinn botched the abortion on Alice Whitney, leaving her in a precarious condition.  On January 20, the New York Herald reported that the physician "was arrested last Sunday, charged with performing a criminal operation."  He was released on $3,000 bail (about $110,000 in 2026).  The article said, "It is reported that Miss Whitney's condition is steadily improving."

But at a time when infection and internal injuries were less well understood than today, the 22-year-old's condition soon worsened.  On February 7, The Evening World reported that the coroner had been notified that "Miss Alice Whitney was suffering from the results of malpractice at 351 West Forty-fourth street, and would probably die before night."  

The following day, the New-York Tribune reported that Alice had died in her apartment.  The article said she had not revealed the name of "her betrayer" (the man who had impregnated her).  On the same day, The Evening World headlined an article, "Dr. Gray-Blinn Has Fled."

At least three of the residents of the row found a less arduous way of making a living than domestic work or physical labor.  An advertisement in the New York Journal on September 17, 1896 read, "Professor Fred Carlson.  Spiritualist, medium; magnetic treatment; good helper.  351 West 44th st."  Four months later, on January 11, 1897, an advertisement in the same newspaper offered, "New Year well begun by consulting Wanetha; she is the ladies' favorite, 351 West 44th st."  And on October 15, 1899, an ad in the New York Journal and Advertiser read, "Mme. Ross, palmist, seventh daughter; naturally gifted; 25 cents.  347 West 44th st., one flight up, back."

Cora Walters, who had a former husband and two children in Philadelphia, occupied a four-room apartment at 347 West 44th Street as early as 1912.  A waitress, she rented one of her two bedrooms to James Lord and his wife.  The 44-year-old Cora had a drinking problem.  On September 26, 1912, according to The Evening World, she "had been treated for alcoholism."  

Around the same time, Raymond Murphy temporarily moved in.  (It is unclear where he slept, since the apartment had only two bedrooms.)  Now a painter, Murphy had previously been a professional pitcher with the Philadelphia National League.

At around 6:00 on the morning of October 4, 1912, Murphy and Lord told two policemen that they had just found Cora Walters's body in her bedroom.  The officers quickly became suspicious about "the many bruises on the body of the dead woman," as reported by The Evening World.  The Lords explained them, according to The New York Times, by saying that Cora "had been drinking heavily for three weeks, and the bruises were caused by falls."

Coroner Holtzhauser, however, was not so sure.  He told reporters, "The bruises on the body were not more than six hours old and do not look to me as if they could have been caused by fall."  He added that Cora was found on her back with her right hand raised "as if to ward off a blow."  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle noted, "according to the police...several suit cases and the contents, consisting of papers, were found strewn about the room."

Holtzhauser had the Lords and Murphy detained and he ordered an autopsy.  The results were apparently inconclusive and no arrests were made.

Joseph Farrell, who was a laborer, lived at 351 West 44th Street at the time of the incident.  In April 1913, he "was hit with a blackjack," according to the New-York Tribune.  After the incident he started "acting strangely."  Farrell's unusual behavior climaxed on the night of July 11.  At around 6:00, he went on a rampage, "wrecking his own apartment with a sledge hammer," then running through the hallway, smashing the doors of other apartments.  Farrell's next door neighbor, Christopher Bauer, tackled him in the hallway.

The New-York Tribune reported, "Policeman Seiffert found the two struggling, but Farrell wrenched himself free and struck Bauer and Seiffert down, and ran into his apartment and locked the door."  As Seiffert and Bauer broke in the door, they heard a horrific crash.  The article said, "Farrell had jumped through a window without raising the sash."  The frenzied man landed in the rear yard and suffered a fractured skull.

The passing decades did not lessen the problems of residents along the row.  Anita Sobotina and Sophie Pelansky, two  members of a Russian ballet troupe, lived at 351 West 44th Street on June 20, 1916 when they were arrested for shoplifting items of silk lingerie in a Broadway store.  

Stephen Moniodes, a busboy in Janssen's Hofbrau restaurant, lived in the building ten years later.  On March 14 1926, he was arrested after he grabbed a carving knife and terrorized a dozen employees in the kitchen, "shouting he would kill everybody present," according to The New York Times.  Several cooks managed to force him into a closet and call the police.  The article said, "He was taken to the psychopathic ward at Bellevue suffering from temporary derangement."

Jack Gentle, who lived in No. 351, worked as a waiter in a restaurant.  Unfortunately for him, it was also a speakeasy.  On February 11, 1927, he was arrested when the basement restaurant was raided by Prohibition agents.  And on March 15, 1935, resident Fred M. Melton was arrested for "stealing government checks" and cashing them.  Secret Service agent Alan G. Straight called him, "one of the cleverest forgers in the country."

Not all the residents of the row were, of course, on the wrong side of the law.  A touching letter arrived at The New York Times's Hundred Neediest Cases Fund on December 15, 1924 from A. Perez, who lived at 349 West 44th Street.  Written in broken English, his note read:

I send.  I have nothing but this money that could save from weekly salary.  My gift will be smallest among the others but best-intentioned.  I have heartbroken for not to any more to cause because I am as poor as they are.

    Yours truly, A. Perez, 349 West Forty-fourth Street.

    Hotel Astor pantryman, this is my job.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

By the turn of the century, 351 West 44th Street was operated as a single room occupancy hotel.  Tenants reported that they paid $150 a week "for small rooms with no kitchens," according to The New York Times.  In 2004, there were several small fires in the building, according to occupants.

Another fire broke out in the fifth-floor room of Lassan Bavo on the night of January 28, 2005.  Bavo told reporters, "I took the bucket I use to wash my socks and started trying to put it out.  Then I just gathered some stuff and ran out the fire escape."

The sprinklers failed to activate and 38-year-old William Tutay, who lived two rooms away from the Bavo's, jumped from a window that opened onto the airshaft.  He landed on a "recessed area level with the basement floor," said The New York Times.  He was dead when fire fighters found him.  The fire chief remarked, "If the sprinklers worked, he would not have had to jump."

The easternmost building was demolished in 1925 and replaced later by a rather startling edifice.

No. 345 West 44th Street was demolished in 1925, and No. 353 was so drastically modernized later that it is nearly unidentifiable as one of the 1892 row.  The passing of time, however, essentially ignored the three middle buildings.  Other than replacement windows and an unexpected Art Deco entrance door at 351 West 44th Street, the exteriors of the historic tenement buildings survive nearly untouched.

many thanks to reader Tony Willging for requesting this post

photographs by the author

The 1871 Jacob J. Lissner House - 125 East 78th Street

 

Among the early developers who began transforming the mostly rural land east of Central Park at the end of the Civil War was Nicholas McCool.  Around 1871 he erected a row of three-story, brownstone-fronted homes on the north side of East 78th Street between Lexington and Fourth Avenues (renamed Park Avenue in 1888).  The three-bay-wide homes were identical--their brownstone stoops protected by substantial cast iron railings and newels.  On either side of the fully arched entrances were foliate carved corbels that supported Renaissance-inspired triangular pediments.  Smaller versions sat upon the parlor floor windows.

McCool sold 125 East 78th Street to real estate operator Dennis Loomie, who, in turn, rented it to the family of Samuel Trishet.  Trishet and his wife had at least one small daughter.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on May 28, 1872 read: "Dressmaker wanted who understands making children's dresses, at 128 East 78th st, near 4th av., steady work."

On April 27, 1874, Loomie sold 125 East 78th Street to Jacob J. Lissner for $17,000.  The price would translate to about $496,000 in 2026.  The obscure Lissner did not list a profession in city directories.  Six years after purchasing the house, he and his family moved to Madison Avenue and 99th Street.

The family of John Byrnes next moved into 125 East 78th Street.  Born in Dublin, Ireland, Byrnes was the principal of the National Surety Company and was well-connected with Tammany Hall.  He and his wife, Rose, had at least three children: Matthew, Mary Cecelia, and Thomas F.  The family's country home was in Babylon, Long Island.

Despite the family's affluence, John Brynes had a stain on his reputation, one not forgotten by The New York Times.  Three years earlier, in 1877, he was appointed the city's Chief of the Supply Bureau and the following year he was Tammany Hall's nomination for Alderman.  The newspaper sneered at his nomination, saying that Byrnes, "is a fair sample of the class of men Tammany Hall seeks to place in power in this city."  The article then dragged out a shocking incident that occurred in 1869.  On July 31 that year, he had "exposed his person" to a young woman "in a most indecent manner," reported The New York Times.  He told her he "would like to have some pleasure with her," according to the victim.  She broke free and had Byrne arrested.

The children were young adults in 1897 and on October 20 that year Cecilia was married to Joseph W. Lawrence in the Church of Jean Baptiste on East 74th Street near Lexington Avenue.  John Brynes's earlier indiscretion seems to have been forgotten.  The social status of the two families was reflected in the reception held in the East 78th Street house.  Among the guests, as recorded by the New-York Tribune were "Miss Chambers, Miss Fish and the Misses Bayne," along with other recognizable society surnames like Kennelly, Sniffen, Trainor and Schuyler.

John Brynes's ties to Tammany had been advantageous to his son, Thomas, who was appointed Police Commissioner in 1880, the year the family moved into 125 East 78th Street.  But in 1895, the new president of the New York City Police Commission, Theodore Roosevelt, forced Thomas to resign as part of Roosevelt's purge of corruption within the department.  Thomas Byrnes would later become an insurance investigator.

Thomas F. Byrnes, Professional Criminals of America, 1886 (copyright expired)

Thomas Byrnes attempted to re-enter Tammany politics in 1903 as a nominee for mayor.  On September 12, The New York Times said that Byrnes's name was "stricken off" the list of candidates, saying that he was "one of the best known Tammany men in the city and a man who for thirteen years [sic] has lived at 125 East Seventy-eighth Street."

On January 27, 1912, The New York Times reported, "John Byrnes has sold...his residence at 125 East Seventy-eighth Street."  The purchaser was Marie C. M. Winter, whose country home was in Woodbury, Long Island.

As early as 1914, Marie Winter leased the house to Reverend James Nevett Steele and his wife, Helen Hudson Aldrich.  Born in 1850 and 1851, respectively, the couple maintained a country home in East Hampton.  Steele was vicar of Trinity Church and a prolific hymnist.  

Rev. James Nevett Steele, The Churchman, May 8, 1897 (copyright expired)

Several of the hymns Steele wrote are still highly popular in American churches.  Among them are "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts," "Just as I Am, Without One Plea," and "Nearer My God, to Thee."

Marie C. M. Winter had moved back to 125 East 78th Street before 1917, when she was looking for a new cook.  Her advertisement on October 7 read, "Cook--Good plain cook; young.  English, Scotch or Swedish preferred; must have good reference and want a permanent position."

Marie Winter sold 125 East 78th Street in February 1921 to George and Grace Middleton Roberts.  George Roberts was a partner in the law firm Winthrop, Stimson, Putnam & Roberts.  Grace was the daughter of Clifford L. and Grace B. Middleton and an alumna of Smith College.  The couple had two daughters, Constance and Rosamond Graham.  Their country home was on Great Peconic Bay in Long Island.  

The Robertses updated the house.  The stoop was removed and the entrance, along with its original brackets and entablature, was relocated to below grade.  Guests approached the doorway under a handsome lantern hung from a wrought iron arch supported by iron posts.  The architect deftly transformed the former doorway into a precise copy of the windows at that level.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Roberts sisters were educated in the private Brearley School.  Constance was studying at Smith College when she was introduced to society at the Colony Club in December 1936 at a "reception and tea dance," as reported by The East Hampton Star.  She married Robert Louis Hoguet Jr. in August 1940 in East Hampton.

Rosamond's time in the limelight came four years later.  On December 26, 1944, The New York Sun reported that her debut took place "at the roof of the St. Regis."  

The Robertses announced Rosamond's engagement to Donald Arthur Jr. on August 21, 1946.  The East Hampton Star noted that after graduating from Smith in 1944, "She did postgraduate work with the National institute of Public Affairs in Washington and has since been with the Tenant Relocation Bureau in New York."

Nine months later, The East Hampton Star reported, "Mr. and Mrs. George Roberts, who were in East Hampton last week, are moving in May from their house at 125 East 78th St. to 139 East 79th St."   The couple sold the house to photographer Hans Henry Namuth.

Born in Essen, Germany in 1915, Namuth focused on portraiture, often choosing artists as his subject.  Among the painters he photographed were Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Mark Rothko and Rauschenberg.  He also made portraits of architects like Philip Johnson, Frank Lloyd Wright and Louis Kahn.

Namuth captured Jackson Pollock at work in his studio.  from the collection of the Hans Namuth Estate

In 1967, 125 East 78th Street was remodeled.  There were now a dress shop in the ground floor and one apartment each on the upper stories.  A one-year renovation initiated in 2019 returned the structure to a single family home.

photographs by the author

Bernstein & Bernstein's 1901 202 East Sixth Street

photograph by Carole Teller

Starting in 1867, reformers worked tirelessly during the 19th century to enhance living conditions among tenement dwellers.  Fire safety, ventilation and sanitary conditions were gradually improved.  The ultimate statute was the New York State Tenement House Act of 1901, passed on April 12 that year.  Referred as the "New Law," it required central courtyards that replaced the earlier airshafts, and demanded that tenements sit upon more than one building lot.  

Brothers Michael and Mitchell Bernstein comprised the prolific architectural firm of Bernstein & Bernstein.  They were, perhaps, best known for designing tenement buildings.  In 1901 developer William Shulmann commissioned them to design another at 202 and 204 East 6th Street just east of Third Avenue.

The Renaissance Revival style, six-story structure was faced in red brick and heavily trimmed with terra cotta.  It cost Shulman $35,000 to construct, or about $1.37 million in 2026 terms.  The residential entrance above a three-step stoop was flanked by polished granite Scamozzi columns that upheld over-sized scrolled brackets.  Above the highly carved entablature was a molded cornice.  A pressed metal frieze of swags ran atop the three storefronts.

Originally, three stores occupied the ground floor.  via NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The second floor windows were flanked by Corinthian pilasters decorated by trailing bellflowers and topped with lintels with cartouches surrounded by wreaths.  Elaborate terra cotta panels connected the second and third floor windows, the latter embellished with intricate triangular pediments.  The fourth and fifth floor windows wore top-heavy terra cotta lintels and pediments.  Paneled brick piers separated the openings of the top floor and a corbeled cornice with a swagged frieze ran along the roofline.  Rather confusingly, Bernstein & Bernstein strayed from the Italian Renaissance in the two central bays.  Here the windows sat below flared Colonial Revival stone voussoirs.

Renaissance Revival and neo-Colonial window treatments coexist side by side.  photograph by Carole Teller

One of the store spaces became a restaurant.  On September 2, 1904, Michael Connelly, a driver for the E. Mass Bottling Company, pulled his wagon to the curb to deliver an order of beer.  While he was busy inside, according to the New York Herald, "A crowd of urchins amused themselves tickling the animals and poking them with sticks until the team ran away."  The article noted, "There was a story that some of the boys stuck pins into the horses."

The panicked horses galloped to Second Avenue.  In avoiding a trolley car, they bolted across the sidewalk and crashed into the stores of money broker Emil Kiss, at 104 Second Avenue, and tailor S. Kleiner next door.  The storefronts were two steps below the sidewalk.  The New York Herald reported, "The horses leaped down into this, pulling the wagon after them, and one of the animals fell sidewise into Kiss's show window, scattering foreign gold coins and paper money as far as the middle of Second avenue by his frightened kicks."  The wagon ended up inside Kleiner's tailor shop.

There was a scramble for the bills and coins in the street.  The New York Herald said (although Kiss had not yet tallied his losses), "He had just spent $100 for elaborate sign painting on the window and put in some showy brass fixtures, which were wrecked."  Next door, Kleiner had "a lot of fine cloth and new clothes" in his window.  The goods were now "filled with little cuts by glass splinters."  The horses, happily, while injured, "can be saved," said the article.  Expectedly, the wagon and the barrels of beer were "damaged."

Meantime, inside the restaurant was a coin-operated music box, the early 20th century version of a juke box.  The proprietor decided to sell it in 1908.  His advertisement in the New York Evening Telegram on August 1 read:

Largest size Regina music box; changes tunes automatically; cost $400; all new; $100.  Restaurant, 202 East 6th st.

The coin-operated Regina music box would have been similar to this model.  image via M. S. Rau Antiques

The expensive instrument would have cost the restaurant owner the equivalent of $14,000 today.

The newly-formed Schorr & Popsk moved into one of the storefronts in 1911.  In its January 1912 issue, The Sheet Metal Shop announced its opening and described the firm as a "new sheet metal and roofing business."

Living here at the time were immigrants, many of them Russian and German Jews.  

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Henry Schemby lived here in 1915.  The 42-year-old worked as a handyman for a Brooklyn doctor.  On January 23, that year, The Daily Standard Union reported, "while cleaning the slush off the stoop of Dr. Robert Scott...to-day, [Schemby] was seized with epilepsy and fell, receiving lacerations of the scalp."

Born in Russia, S. Podolsky was living here prior to his homeland's being wracked by world war and revolution.  On December 16, 1917, The New York Times titled an article, "Jews in Russia Seek Their Friends Here."  The article went on to say that throngs of Russian immigrants here were seeking news from their relatives, as well.  Among those urgently trying to find information on his relatives in Russia was S. Podolsky.

One of the three shops became a storefront mission as early as 1919.  It also served as what today would be called a homeless shelter.  The New York Charities Directory in 1920 described Mission Hall saying,  "Gospel services carried on nightly and at times worthy women and men are given lodgings; coffee and rolls served nightly."

John Kassman's saloon-restaurant became merely a restaurant after the enactment of Prohibition.  On the night of October 26, 1924, a man entered and announced that he was a Special Service Division detective.  He displayed a badge and demanded to make an inspection, "because of a number of complaints that he had received," according to Kassman.  Although Kassman did not object, the agent whispered that "trouble could be adjusted with money."  

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Discreetly, Kassman directed one of his employees to find a policeman.  Shortly afterward, Sergeant Kelly and Patrolman Falls responded.  John Carney attempted to confirm his authority, but was unable to convince the officers.  As they were interrogating him, an object fell on the floor.  "It was a gold shield bearing the inscription, 'Special Officer,'" reported The New York Sun.  The 28-year-old was arrested for impersonating a Special Service Division detective.

A restaurant occupied the space into the 1940s.  By 1940, R & W Trucking Company occupied the middle storefront while the other held a barbershop.

The exuberant terra cotta was originally a cream color.  photograph by Carole Teller

In the last quarter of the 20th century the terminal cornice was replaced with a less ornamental example.  By then, the 1901 storefronts had been modernized.  In 2020, the red brick was painted white and the elaborate terra cotta, the stone voussoirs, and the outlines of the top floor piers were painted black.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1893 Jacob and Emma Wertheim House - 19 West 76th Street

 

Born in Hartford, Connecticut in 1858, Jacob Wertheim came to New York City with his parents as a boy.  He started working at the age of 14 and by 1893 had founded and owned several cigar making companies.  That year, he and his wife, the former Emma Stern, purchased the newly built residence at 19 West 76th Street.

Real estate developer Cornelius W. Luyster had broken ground for this and two other upscale homes a year earlier.  Designed in the Renaissance Revival style by esteemed architect John H. Duncan, 19 West 76th Street was 25-feet-wide and rose four stories above a high English basement.  A handsome dog-legged box stoop, decorated with swirling volutes and rosettes, fronted the brownstone-fronted parlor level where shallow pilasters were carved with anthemions.  The upper three floors were faced in tan Roman brick.  A three-sided brownstone oriel dominated the second floor.  The third-floor openings sat within molded architraves, and the fourth-floor windows were framed in terra cotta, their cornices crowned with urn-topped pediments.  A deeply overhanging cornice with a terra cotta frieze crowned the design.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Jacob and Emma had five children: three daughters and two sons.  The boy who left school to find work had come a long way.  The Brooklyn Eagle said, "he engaged in the cigar business and made rapid progress, organizing one company after another."  Eventually he consolidated them into the United Cigar Manufacturers, one of the largest independent cigar making firms of its kind.  

The Wertheims were generous with their wealth.  Calling Jacob "one of the most prominent Jews in this city," The Brooklyn Eagle noted that he was highly involved in the Federation for the Support of Jewish Philanthropic Societies and the Joint Distributing Committee.

The family's residency was relatively short-lived.  On September 13, 1899, the New-York Tribune reported that Wertheim had sold 19 West 76th Street to "a Mr. Ullman."  The buyer was Jacob Uhlman and his ownership, as well, would be short.  He resold the residence in March 1902 to Henry A. Caesar and his wife, the former Laura F. Unger.  The New York Times mentioned that they "will occupy the house after making extensive alterations."  Those alterations most likely had much to do with modernizations like the installing of updated plumbing and electricity.

Henry A. Caesar was born in Brooklyn on May 15, 1856.  Educated in Europe, he established the banking firm of H. A. Caesar & Company in 1886.  He was, as well, a director of the Germania Life Insurance Company and of the Chemical Bank and Trust Company.  Laura was his second wife.  His first was Mathilde M. Muller, with whom he had two sons, Paul N. and Harry I.  He married Laura in 1894 and they had a son, Charles U., born in 1897.

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

The Colonial Revival mansion at Lauriston.  image via Preservation New Jersey

Form was a weekly magazine that kept affluent American families abreast of incidents in society.  Its masthead explained that it covered "the interests of American Society at Home and Abroad."  On December 27, 1913, the periodical reported that Henry I. Caesar and Dora Porter would be married that day.  The ceremony took place in St. Thomas's Chapel.  The high-society surnames of bridal party reflected the families' status.  Among them were Townsend, Hoagland, Slocum and Symington.

Henry and Laura Caesar sold 19 West 76th Street to Solomon Marcuse Stroock in April 1917 for $70,000.  (The figure would translate to about $1.7 million in 2026.)  

The son of German immigrants, Solomon Stroock as born in New York City on September 22, 1873.  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.  In 1907, he was appointed a Justice on the New York Supreme Court.  He was also a partner with his brother Moses in the law firm Stroock & Stroock.

Solomon Marcuse Stroock, The Jewish Tribune, November 25, 1927

Stroock married Hilda Weil in 1904 and the couple had three children.  Like the Caesars, they spent the summer months away from the city.  On May 20, 1921, for instance, The American Hebrew noted, "Mr. and Mrs. Sol. M. Stroock of 19 West Seventy-sixth street will spend the summer at Ossining, N. Y."

As had been the case in the two previous owners, the Stroocks would not remain here especially long.  On September 17, 1924, The New York Times reported that they had sold 19 West 76th Street "to a buyer for occupancy."  That was only partially accurate.  The house became The Liberta School, a private co-educational progressive school.

The Christian Science Monitor, February 12, 1925 (copyright expired)

Among the students here was nine-year-old Mary Elizabeth Steele, who lived with her mother at 66 West 77th Street.  The prodigy was an accomplished pianist--so accomplished, in fact, that she was invited to give a private concert for President Calvin Coolidge and the First Lady in the White House.  Mary Elizabeth and her mother, Mrs. C. O. Steele, left their apartment on March 17, 1925.  They left Mary Elizabeth's dog, Frisky, with the building's superintendent.  The New York Times remarked that the wire-haired terrier "had been Mary's companion almost since his birth, frequently sitting beside her as her nimble fingers played compositions of Bach, Chopin and other masters."

Mary Elizabeth played the concert on the evening of March 21 and the following day she and her mother were invited to  meet the President at the White House.  On March 27, The New York Times began an article saying, "Her joy at being received by President Coolidge in the White House several days ago was dispelled upon her return to New York, Wednesday night."  The superintendent had lost Frisky.  It is unclear whether Mary Elizabeth's precious pet was recovered.

In March 1926, just one year after moving into 19 West 76th Street, The Liberta School sold the house to Carl and Hulda Steen.  Their son, Jens H., born in 1914, was a scholar.  After graduating from George Washington High School, he received his Bachelor of Science degree in Chemical Engineering from Cooper Union in 1934.  He continued studying at New York University and on July 9, 1936, Louise Whitfield Carnegie, the widow of Andrew Carnegie, awarded him a scholarship for foreign study.  The New York Sun reported, "He will sail abroad...for Sweden, where he will spend [a] year at the University of Lund, majoring in Economics."

The Steens leased 19 West 76th Street in 1939, and sold it in 1942.  The house avoided being converting to apartments until 1974, when it was renovated into a total of 14 units.  The exterior, however, is nearly unchanged after nearly 135 years.

photographs by the author

The Lost 1812 Washington Hall - 282 Broadway

Lithographer George Hayward produced this lithograph in 1853.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

On Independence Day 1809, the Washington Benevolent Society laid the cornerstone of Washington Hall on the southeast corner of Broadway and Reade Street.  (The 1876 Centennial, Illustrated commented, "in earlier times the Negro Burying Ground was located here.")  John McComb Jr., whose City Hall was rising a block to the south, was responsible for the design.

Edwin C. Hill explained in the 1922 The Historical Register, "Although intended to be used as a public hall for meetings and assemblies, it was also kept as a hotel."  Washington Hall would be considered one of the finest structures in the city. 

Construction would take four years to complete.  On July 3, 1812, the Building Committee was disbanded, "except so far as respects a settlement of claims," reported The Evening Post.  The "claims" were the workers' salaries, materials and such necessary to complete the building.  Those, said the article, would be "presented to Mr. John McComb, Junr."

Five months later, an announcement in The Evening Post on December 29 read:

This elegant and spacious Building, situated in Broadway, corner of Reed-Street [sic], is now nearly completed; and will be Let or Leased from the first of May next, or sooner if required.  It is well calculated for a splendid Hotel, having forty one Rooms, thirty-two of which are supplied with fire places.

The article deemed the large 35-by-56 foot meeting room as "the largest and most elegantly finished in the city; and has a large orchestra finished in superior style."  (The "orchestra" was the balcony for musicians.)  There were also six "elegantly finished" rooms for "dining or supper parties."  Two of them were connected by folding doors for larger affairs.  

Americana Illustrated, January 1912 (copyright expired)

Daniel W. Crocker had answered that ad.  He leased the building and on October 18, 1813 announced in The New-York Evening Post that Washington Hall, "is now opened for the accommodation of the public as a Hotel."  He described it as being, "replete with every convenience."  Somewhat oddly, guests would not be sleeping in Washington Hall proper.  Crocker wrote, "The rooms are spacious and airy, and the bed-rooms (in a building separate from the Hotel) are neat, convenient and retired, with one bed in each room."

On the ground floor was the Coffee Room, "in which the daily papers will be kept and which will be open to the public," said Crocker.  He noted that it and the public dining room opened onto Broadway.  On the Reade Street side was the Porter Room, which Crocker described as "not excelled for convenience and cosiness [sic]," adding, "Here refreshments (of every sort) may be had at the shortest notice."  Crocker described the main Assembly Room on the second floor as "the most elegant and spacious" in New York City or, "perhaps in the United States."

Edwin C. Hill explained that the Washington Benevolent Society "was not organized as a political association, its members were mostly of the Federal Party."  Because of that, Washington Hall would become the headquarters of the Federal Party.  

Five months before the hotel was opened for business, the Assembly Hall saw its first grand event.  The United States and Great Britain were engaged in the War of 1812.  On February 22, 1812, Captain James Lawrence's USS Hornet sank the HMS Peacock, an 18-gun Royal Navy warship.  Lawrence and his crew visited New York City in May 1813 and the City Council hosted a lavish banquet in his honor.  (One month later, during the battle in which he famously ordered "Don't give up the ship!", Lawrence was fatally wounded.)

Another lavish affair linked to the war was held in the Assembly Room the following year.  Valentine's Manuel of Old New York would recall in 1921:

One of the most notable events of its history was when in 1814 a magnificent ball was given to celebrate the longed-for restoration of peace between England and America.  The superb ballroom was magnificently decorated and was crowded with a brilliant company of the elite of old New York.  The newspapers of the day described the scene as "a picture of feminine loveliness, beauty, fashion and elegance not to be surpassed in America.

Among the groups that rented rooms here was the Bread and Cheese Club, a literary group founded by Fenimore Cooper in 1824.  In its February 16, 1920 issue, The Mentor noted that the club "took its name from the fact that candidates were balloted for by bread and cheese."  Among its members were William Cullen Bryant, Henry Halleck and Gulian Verplanck.

The hotel portion hosted notable figures, none more so than President Martin Van Buren who stayed here in 1839.  On July 7, he was visited by Hannah Gouge.  The 104-year-old, according to The Morning Herald, "retains the possession of all her faculties, and has a most perfect and vivid recollection of her visit to General Washington."  Hannah, who lost three sons in the Revolution, had been presented to every President except Andrew Jackson.

Washington Hall continued to be the venue of glittering balls, prestigious banquets, meetings and entertainments.  On January 26, 1844, for instance, separate articles in the New-York Daily Tribune announced the "special meeting of the Third Ward Clay Club;" an upcoming concert by Sophie Gjertz, "pianist to the Royal Family of Denmark;" and a lecture "of Mr. Shea" that would "possess the deepest interest to lovers of Ireland."

At the time of the articles, the building had recently been "repaired and fitted up at considerable expense," according to the New York Herald, which added it was "decorated in a most superb manner."

Both Sides of Broadway, From Bowling Green to Central Park, New York City, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Assembly Room was booked for a ball on July 5, 1844.  At 7:00 that morning, a small fire was discovered in "one of the chimneys at the back of the building," as reported by the New York Herald.  It was quickly put out and forgotten.  Then, about three hours later, "it was found that the roof at the back immediately over the upper bedrooms was in flames."  The fire spread rapidly and several fire engines were on the scene within minutes.  The newspaper said the firefighters were "followed by a great mob whose evident object was plunder, for they kept running about from room to room making 'confusion worse confounded,' breaking the furniture and pilfering little articles that were lying about."  The New York Herald said that firefighters warned the intruders that they would be trapped by flames if they did not leave "and in a very short time the building was comparatively cleared of these blackguards."

In the meantime, employees rushed to salvage valuable items, like the large portrait of George Washington, some mirrors and furniture.  The New York Herald said in part:

The ball-room was kept locked until the roof began to fall in, and the flames to make their appearance...It was found impossible to save the splendid chandeliers with which this room was adorned, in consequence of the burning fragments which was [sic] continually falling, and the beams from which they were suspended having become ignited.  In a short time afterwards the chandeliers fell, and were utterly destroyed.

On October 16, 1844, The Evening Post reported, "Washington Hall (or rather the ruins of Washington Hall) was sold yesterday for $62,500 to Mr. Stewart, dry goods merchant, of Broadway, who will convert it into handsome stores."  (Department store mogul Alexander Turney Stewart was among the nation's wealthiest merchants.)

On the night of April 7, 1845, Mayor Philip Hone wrote in his journal that Stewart "is preparing to erect on the ground a dry goods store, spacious and magnificent beyond anything of the kind in New York."  He noted, "In removing the rubbish after the hall was burned the corner stone was brought to light and exhumed this morning."

On the site of Washington Hall, Stewart erected his "Marble Palace," which, enlarged, survives.

from the collection of the New York Public Library