The 1874 Bloomingdale Turnverein - 341 West 47th Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

Substantial German immigration into New York City began in the 1830s and continued to grow.  In the 1850s, around 800,000 Germans arrived, and while many dispersed to rural areas like Pennsylvania or Ohio, thousands settled in Manhattan's Lower East Side, creating Kleindeutschland, or Little Germany.  A smaller group, however, established a community further north in Hell's Kitchen, just below Bloomingdale Square.

In 1850, a group of German men organized the Bloomingdale Turnverein, or Bloomingdale Gymnastics Club.  They established the club in a vintage building at 341 West 47th Street.  In addition to being an athletic venue, the Bloomingdale Turnverein was (perhaps more importantly) a social club.  It routinely hosted outings and picnics in the summer months, and receptions and balls in the winter.

On June 28, 1869, the New-York Tribune reported that the gymnasium at 341 West 47th Street had been deemed unsafe, noting "Bloomingdale Turnverein, owner."  Apparently, adequate repairs were made to the structure, but two years later, on September 20, 1871, The New York Times reported, "The Bloomingdale Turnverein has recently established a boys' Turn school, and contemplates the erection of a new Turn hall."  (A Turn school-and-hall was a place where German youths could learn and play sports, similar to The Y today.)

The old structure was demolished and a four-story-and-basement, brick-faced edifice erected.  Looking much more like a rowhouse than a clubhouse, its transitional design straddled the Greek Revival and Italianate styles.  Above the stoop, Doric pilasters flanked the arched entrance and upheld an entablature and molded cornice that hailed visitors in German.

The openings originally wore molded lintels, and miniature brackets upheld the sills.  The fascia of the foliate-bracketed cornice announced "BL. Turnverein" and a parapet reflected the date of the ground-breaking: 1873.

In 1940, the window details had been shaved off, but most of the 1874 elements survived.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In January 1873, as construction progressed, the Bloomingdale Turnverein released its annual report.  Although having only 150 members, its capital was $12,000, or about three-quarters of a million in 2026 dollars.  "The Turn school, established by the society, is attended by 175 boys and 38 girls," reported the New-York Tribune.

The building was designed to generate rental income, as well.  In addition to the Bloomingdale Turnverein's clubrooms and gymnasium, the structure held several meeting rooms.  They would be rented by a variety of organizations over the coming years--political, social and ethnic groups, for instance--that used them as their clubrooms on specific weeknights, or for one-time meetings.

On March 29, 1874, an advertisement in the New York Dispatch offered:

To Let--An Elegantly Furnished Lodge-Room (with parlors attached), in the New Hall of the Bloomingdale Turnverein, No. 341 West Forty-seventh street.  Inspection invited.

The halls immediately became popular.  On February 25, 1876, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported, "The XVIIth Assembly District Republican Association held their regular monthly meeting last evening at No. 341 West Forty-seventh-st."  A resolution that night reflected the substantial German presence in the Hell's Kitchen neighborhood.  It said in part:

It would be wise to admit the President of the German Republican Central Committee, and the Chairman of the German Republican Central Committee, as ex-officio members of the Central Committee of the Regular Republican Association.

And on June 29, 1884, the New York Dispatch announced that the Masonic Park Lodge No. 516 "meets first and third Tuesdays, at Turn Hall, No. 341 West Forty-seventh st."

A major holiday for German immigrants was Pfingst-Montag, or Whit Monday.  On May 22, 1877, the New-York Tribune reported, "The celebration of Pfingster began Saturday at noon, when all German workmen stopped work and prepared to take part in the religious observance of Sunday.  Monday and Tuesday are given entirely to holiday amusements, such as picnics, parades, festivals, balls, and athletic exhibitions."  The article said, "The Bloomingdale Turnverein paraded through the streets in the upper part of the city in the morning, and then enjoyed a picnic at Lion Park."

The annual Pfingst-Montag celebrations were always covered by the press.  Five years later, on May 30, 1882, the New-York Tribune reported on the festivities held at Jones's Woods.  "There were athletic contests and exhibitions of all kinds by members of the New-York and the Bloomingdale Turn-Vereins," said the article.  "A band of wind instruments played continually while the games and contests were going on, and in the dancing pavilion an orchestra furnished music to the crowds of young people who danced all the afternoon and until late at night."

Rooms for socials like this one by the Victoria Coterie were rented on a one-time basis.  The New York Globe, January 27, 1883 (copyright expired)

On November 29, 1887, the New York Herald announced that the West 47th Street building had "become inadequate" for the Bloomingdale Turnverein, "owing to the increase in members and scholars."  The club had raised funds to obtain a "larger and more suitable building."  

Another German organization, the New York Central Schuetzen Corps (or shooting club), took over 341 West 47th Street.  The group embarked on a major trip in the spring of 1890.  Forest and Stream reported on May 22, "The New York Central Schuetzen Corps, which will start for the great international shooting festival on June 3, held a farewell meeting and banquet at its rooms, 341 West Forty-seventh street, on the evening of May 14."  That international event was being held in Berlin.  "Their departure will be celebrated by a big all-day German picnic in Hoboken," said the article.

Like the Turnverein, the Schuetzen Corps leased lodge rooms.  Among those renting space in the early 1890s were the Ornamental Plasters' and Shop Hands' Society, the Colored Republican Club, and the West Side Athletic Club.  The latter group held "a stag" on November 11, 1893.  The event included boxing, including "a special bout of six rounds between Harry Martin and Jack Russell."

The changing demographics of Hell's Kitchen was reflected in Irish groups taking space here in the early years of the 20th century.  The New York Philo-Celtic Society began leasing space beginning around 1906.  That year, on April 24, The New York Times reported that it "will produce, in Gaelic...'An Posadh' at the Lexington Avenue Opera House."  The play (the English title of which is The Marriage) "shows the Irish people in their everyday life," said the article.

The date of the ground breaking and "BL. TURNVEREIN" were announced atop the building. via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Society's staging of the play in Gaelic was notable.  Determined that Irish roots and culture were not diluted in their new country, it held language classes here.  On October 30, 1909, The Gaelic American reported, "The classes for the study of Irish, which are under very competent teachers, will be held all during the winter on Sundays from 3 to 6 P.M. and on Thursdays from 8 to 10 P.M. at 341 West Forty-seventh street."

Also renting a lodge room at the time were the County Mayo Men's Association and the Irish Counties Athletic Union.  There was a bit of scandal within the former in the spring of 1907.  The group had held a ball the previous St. Patrick's Day.  A review of the books showed that $300 of ticket sales, which were received by the secretary, John T. McIntyre, was not accounted for.  Now, treasurer Peter J. Delaney, discovered that McIntire had collected $30 in dues from members, but never turned it in.  (The total embezzlement would equal nearly $11,500 in 2026 terms.)  On April 9, 1907, McIntire was arrested and jailed.

When Theodore Stucky purchased the building, he renamed it Unity Hall.  While groups continued to lease space as their clubrooms, Stucky gradually wooed theatrical concerns as the nearby Times Square increasingly became the center of Manhattan's theater district.

Stucky suggested that lodge rooms could be used as rehearsal halls.  Masonic Standard, June 3, 1916 (copyright expired)

While Irish groups continued to gather here (in 1919, for instance, The Loyal Orange Order of Protestantism held its meetings here), increasingly theatrical groups rented space.

On June 14, 1919, for instance, The Moving Picture World reported, "The Film Social Club, the membership of which is made up of the operating forces of the various film exchanges, gave its first dance and vaudeville entertainment at Unity Hall, 341 West Forty-seventh street, New York on Thursday evening, May 29."  

Meetings held here two months later were more serious.  Actors nationwide went on strike.  On August 19, 1919, a meeting of the Actors Equity Association was held here that "may result in the mediation of the actors' strike," said the New York Herald.  

Theodore William Stucky was described by the New York Herald as being "identified with the activities of the French colony in this city for many years."  The newspaper said he "owned considerable property on the West Side, among his holdings being Unity Hall...the scene of rehearsals for many big Broadway productions."

Stucky was not merely taking advantage of the building's proximity to the entertainment district, he was fully entrenched in the theater.  He organized the Cercle d'Art Francaise (French Art Circle) and was a major financial supporter of the Operetta Francaise.  (The New York Herald clarified, "Mr. Stucky, despite his associations here, was not a Frenchman.  He was born in Switzerland.")  

In the fall of 1920, Cercle d'Art Francaise produced the opera La Mascotte.  The 16-member cast played in New England and in Washington D.C., but when they opened in Worcester, Massachusetts, it failed and the entire cast and crew were stranded.

Resultantly, Stucky was greatly concerned about finances.  A bachelor, he lived on Riverside Drive, but his office and that of the Cercle d'Art Francaise were at 341 West 47th Street.  The building's superintendent, Frederick Carter, and his family lived in an apartment, most likely in the basement.  On February 5, 1921, Stucky saw Carter's five-year-old daughter in the hallway.  The New York Times reported, "Mr. Stucky picked up the child and, after kissing her several times, began to weep.  'My darling,' he said to the child, 'I am glad you haven't the worries I have.'"

He had told Carter that he had been threatened by creditors and "feared for his life."  At around 4:00 on the afternoon of February 5, Catherine Valo noticed a man pacing back and forth near a bench on which she was sitting at the foot of the Queensboro Bridge.  Shortly afterward, she saw the man climb the railing and jump.

Valo ran to a policeman.  At the point when the man jumped, he found a coat containing "several papers," according to The New York Times.  One was a card printed, "Theodore W. Stucky" on the front.  On the other side, in French, was written, "My Dear Friends: I am sick and am going to end my life."

Irish groups continued to rent spaces in Unity Hall.  An announcement in The Advocate on October 25, 1924 read: "Reception and Dance of the Cork, Kerry and Limerick Boys at Unity Hall, 341 West 47th St., near 9th Ave.  Every Saturday Night.  American and Irish dancing."  And nearly three decades later, on May 30, 1953, the newspaper reported on the "largely attended meeting of the Cork Ladies in the Irish Counties Athletic Union Hall, 341 West 47th St."

In 1942, the Theatre Showcase opened here in one of the former lodge rooms that had previously been converted to a wedding chapel.  On March 20, 1942, Saroyan's one-act play Across the Board on Tomorrow Morning opened.  Four months later, on July 14, The Goldfish Bowl premiered.

In the late 1960s, composer Harvey Schmidt and his partner and lyricist Tom Jones converted the Theatre Showcase to Portfolio Studio.  Schmidt and Jones, best known perhaps for The Fantasticks, were also the creators of musicals like I Do, I Do; 110 in the Shade; and Celebration.  On June 7, 1970, The New York Times said, "they have set up their own theater, Elizabethan stage, dressing rooms and offices."

On December 6, 1974, the newspaper reported that Schmidt and Jones "will present 'Portfolio Revue,' the first of their four original musicals making the team's workshop theater, a converted brownstone, a public showcase."  Four months later, on April 10, 1975, the newspaper announced, "The new Tom Jones-Harvey Schmidt musical, 'Philemon,' reopens tonight...for a six-week run at the team's Portfolio Studio."

Portfolio Studio made way for The 47th Street Playhouse the following year.  On July 15, 1976, In Dublin's Fair City, a revue, opened in the remodeled venue.

The end of theatrical performances here ended in 1982 when the building was purchased and emptied in anticipation of conversion to residential purposes.  At the time, police were dealing with a rash of pipe bombings.  In 1981, there were 12 non-terrorist and 11 terrorists explosions.  The next spring, on May 13, 1982, The New York Times reported, "So far this year, the police said, there have been six bomb explosions attributed to 'non-terrorist' actions and six explosions attributed to terrorist groups."  One of the most recent was "in a vacant building at 341 West 47th Street," said the article.

photograph by Carole Teller

The renovation was completed in 1985, resulting in two condominium apartments per floor.  All remnants of the Bloomingdale Turnverein were erased, including the parapet and frieze, and the German inscription above the doorway.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The St. Francis Court - 583 Riverside Drive

image via eqarchitects.com

On September 29, 1905, the architectural firm of Neville & Bagge filed plans for a six-story "brick and stone tenement" at the northeast corner of Riverside Drive and 135th Street.  (The term "tenement" at the time referred to any multi-family structure.)  Designed for developer J. V. Signell & Co., it would cost $150,000 to erect, or about $5.5 million in 2026 terms.

Completed in 1906, Neville & Bagge's overall neo-Colonial design included a two-story limestone base that supported four floors of variegated Flemish bond brick.  Charred header bricks gave the illusion of age.  Turret-like rounded bays gave dimension.  A handsome stone balustrade sat atop the bracketed cornice.

Apartment Houses of the Metropolis, 1908 (copyright expired)

The St. Francis Court had six apartments per floor ranging from five to eight rooms.  The 1908 Apartment Houses of the Metropolis noted that the finishes were "in hardwood, oak, mahogany and curly birch," and the bedrooms "in white enamel [with] mahogany doors."  

Apartment Houses of the Metropolis, 1908 (copyright expired)

Because electrical service was not reliable, the apartments had both gas and electric lighting.  The upscale amenities included "long distance telephone in each apartment."  Rents ranged from $720 to $1,500 per year, or $4,400 per month for the most expensive by today's conversion.

Among the initial residents were the Powers family, who had recently relocated from Maysville, Kentucky.  Mrs. Powers, who was a widow, lived here with her young adult children, Mary and John J.  

Mary Powers attended the exclusive Brantwood Hall girls' finishing school in Bronxville, New York.  She graduated in June 1910.  A classmate, Eda Bigger, was also from Maysville, Kentucky.  Rather than immediately returning home, Eda spent the summer in the Powers apartment.  The New York Times remarked, "Both are members of prominent Kentucky families, and were well-known in the social circles of Lawrence Park, Bronxville, during the school season."  

On July 9, Mary and Eda took a train to Bronxville to have lunch with two classmates.  The four young women chatted after lunch until Mary and Eda realized they were in danger of missing the 4:19 train back to New York.  As they neared the station, the southbound train was already at the platform.  The New York Times reported, "although the gates were down, and despite the cries of many commuters who were horrified to see a northbound train approaching on the other track, they ran around one of the stanchions holding an arm of the gate."   Mary and Eda, who were 20 and 22 years old respectively, were struck by the northbound train.

Eda Bigger was thrown 20 feet while Mary Powers was caught underneath the engine and dragged several hundred feet.  Her left leg was severed below the knee and her skull fractured.  The New York Times wrote, "The shoes of both young women were torn from their feet, and their costly Summer gowns were almost torn into ribbons."  The train crew treated the two women and then rushed them in automobiles to the Lawrence Hospital.

The New York Times reported that Mary's mother was notified by telephone.  She "went from New York on an express train.  She was on the verge of collapse and was looked after by friends," said the article.  Two days later, the newspaper reported that Mary had died.  "Her body will be shipped to Maysville, Ky.," said the article.  It noted, "Miss Eda Bigger...passed a favorable night, but the heat had a bad effect and last night her condition was far from favorable."

Frederic and Elise Timme were also early residents.  Elise was born in Germany in 1837 and she married Frederic in 1908.  Frederic was her second husband, her first, Charles Boettcher, was deceased.  Elise died on November 10, 1911 and her will raised eyebrows.  Her estate was valued at about $4 million in today's money, "principally of realty," according to The New York Times.  She left $10,000 (about $340,000 today) to the German Hospital and Dispensary "in memory of her former husband."  She additionally left the equivalent of $954,000 to Charles Boettcher's nieces and nephews.  The New York Times reported that she "divided her furniture...between Lizzie Brown and Agnes Fuechsel."  (What Frederic Timme was going to sit and sleep upon is unclear.)

Elise did not ignore Frederic in the will.  He inherited a life income of a $25,000 trust fund and "a talking machine appraised at $100."

Unmarried resident Isabel Rea, who lived here in 1912, typified the progressive young women of her generation.  On November 10, The Sun reported on the 20,000 women who participated in the suffrage parade on Fifth Avenue.  The lengthy article said in part:

The sidewalk crowds said a mighty "A-ah!" and thousands of hands clapped as Miss Isabel Rea of 583 Riverside Drive now came along as Joan of Arc astride a white horse panoplied in crimson plush.  Joan of Arc wore glittering armor and carried a long sword.  She led the Joan of Arc's division with President Nellie B. Van Slingeria of the league heading the long columns of foot soldiers.

At one point, Isabel suffered a brief wardrobe malfunction.  "At Thirty-fourth street Joan of Arc had trouble with her sword, but again Inspector Lahey came to the rescue and recovered it," said the article.

Clara Skolnik moved into the St. Francis Court in 1913 after leaving her husband, violinist Gregor Skolnik.  The couple was married in 1907 when Gregor was 19 and Clara was 31.  Shortly afterward, Gregor realized he had made a mistake.  On September 13, 1913 he filed for separation.  His complaint said in part: "Since the marriage [he] has never eaten a meal at home cooked by anyone other than himself, the defendant absolutely refusing to cook or provide for the plaintiff in any way."  

Gregor's weight dropped from 175 to 130 pounds, partly, said the complaint, "to the mental strain" from "language with which his wife addressed him on his return home from late rehearsals."  Her jealousy extended to his 18-year-old sister, a violin prodigy whom he was training.  When he suggested that he would have the marriage annulled, Clara told him "she would shoot him if he tried to do so."

Clara insisted that he give up music and go into business.  That resulted in disaster.  The New York Times reported, "he lost several thousand dollars."  When he was at the verge of bankruptcy, Clara left him and moved into the St. Francis Court.  She earned $100 a week as a dress designer (about $3,250 today).  Skolnik said she "was in a position to bear part of his business losses" but "refused to do so."

As it turned out, Clara's walking out had positive results.  On September 14, 1913, The New York Times reported that Gregor Skolnik "will be concertmeister of the Chicago Opera Company during the coming season."

Mrs. Abbie Manion had an extra bedroom in her apartment in 1913.  She rented it to Leopold Sulzberger, described by The Sun as "a quiet man of 45 years."  As it turned out, Sulzberger chose the St. Francis Court location because he "was very much in love with a young woman of the neighborhood," as reported by The Sun.  He would be called a stalker today.  

Sulzberger sat for hours every day on a bench in Riverside Park.  He confided to a policeman named Manning that he suspected the young woman he loved "of accepting the attentions of other men."  He explained that he would sit there "to see who her callers were and to learn whether she was in the habit of going out with other men."

On the morning of January 2, 1914, Mrs. Manion smelled gas coming from Sulzberger's room.  She found a policeman, who coincidentally was Officer Manning.  He broke open the bedroom door and immediately recognized the unconscious Sulzberger as the man to which he had spoken in the park.  He was taken to the Knickerbocker Hospital where, although his condition was deemed serious, he was held as a prisoner, charged with attempted suicide.

At the time, Clifford L. C. Porter shared an apartment with his widowed mother, Katherine, and his maternal grandmother, Lucy Paget.  The 19-year-old was studying law while also working for the publishing firm George H. Doran Company as a proof reader.  The New-York Tribune said, however, "What they didn't know was that he had great ambition to excel as a writer himself, and that when he went home at night he would sit up until 3 o'clock in the morning, sometimes, toiling at his writing."

At 3:00 on the afternoon of July 1, 1915, two shots rang out in the Porter apartment.  The New-York Tribune reported that Lucy Paget was home, "but, old and deaf, she heard nothing."  But the building's superintendent, August Carter, heard the shots.  He called the manager, and they went to the apartment.

The men forced young Porter's door, which was locked, and found [Clifford] lying on the floor, fully dressed, with two bullet holes in his head.  A 32-calibre automatic Colt revolver lay beside him.

Clifford Porter, who was now 20 years old, had ensured that his suicide would be successful.  The New York Herald reported that before shooting himself, "he had taken fatal doses of aconite and gelsemium."  Porter's supervisor at work said he "could think of no reason for the deed."  Lucy Paget told reporters that the young man "had been studying too hard."  She insisted that he was not in love.

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

A celebrated tenant at the time was playwright Howard Prentiss Taylor, who lived here with his wife, the former Agnes Chalmers.  Born in Louisville, Kentucky in 1839, he went to San Francisco as a boy where he got a job as a "printer's devil" at the newspaper The Argonaut.  (A printer's devil was an apprentice who did tasks like mixing inks and retrieving type.)

He later erected the Grand Opera House in San Francisco and was its manager for many years.  He later worked closely with Sam Clemens and collaborated with him in converting A Connecticut Yankee at the Court of King Arthur into a stage play.  Among the numerous plays he wrote were The Little Pauper, Nell Gwynne, The Pulse of New York, and The Jolly Widow.  His final book was The Idiosyncrasies of Mark Twain.

In 1910, Taylor began suffering from rheumatism.  He died in his apartment here at the age of 78 on July 7, 1916.

America's entry to World War I made heroes of at least two residents.  On July 12, 1918, The New York Times reported on the ceremony on the grounds of a château on the banks of the Marne--"the first large presentation of distinguished service crosses awarded to members of the United States Marine Corps for their heroic deeds in the fighting northwest of Château-Thierry in the month of June."  Among the marines so honored was the St. Francis Court resident Surgeon Ray C. Farwell.

The following month, on August 18, The Sun began an article saying, "Christopher W. Ford of 583 Riverside Drive, New York, a Lieutenant in the Lafayette Escadrille, fast is approaching the 'ace' class of American aviators."  In the past four months, Ford had shot down four German aircraft and had been awarded the Croix de Guerre.

Lieutenant Christopher W. Ford, The Sun, August 18, 1918 (copyright expired)

Oil salesman John N. Redmond, who lived here as early as 1919, arrived in New York City in 1914 from North Dakota.  He

first caught the attention of law enforcement in September 1919.  Several brokerage firms had received bomb threats and on September 10 The Sun reported that they "were traced yesterday by the police to John N. Redmond, 38, of 583 Riverside Drive."  The article said he was committed to the psychopathic ward of Bellevue Hospital for observation.  Detective Sergeant John F. McCoy explained that Redmond "believed himself to have been victimized by Wall Street brokers and 'defrauded of millions.'"

Redmond somehow escaped prosecution, but he was soon back in jail.  On April 8, 1920, he was arrested in the Robert Treat Hotel in Newark, New Jersey.  For the past five years he had been sending "amatory" letters to a socially prominent Newark woman--more than 500 of them.  Oddly enough, said the article, "he never has met the woman, nor she him."  The New-York Tribune described the letters as "obscene" and The Sun added that they caused the woman to have a nervous breakdown.

New York Herald, August 24, 1922 (copyright expired)

Resident Delores Dixon shocked the nation when she filed suit against baseball star Babe Ruth on March 13, 1923 for $50,000 "on the ground that he is the father of her child," as reported by The New York Times.  The newspaper described Dixon as "19 years old, an orphan, without brothers or sisters," and was "being kept in seclusion."  Her lawyer had notified Ruth of the accusation in November.  After the "home run king" conferred with his wife, they agreed to fight the case in court.  Babe Ruth called Dixon's allegations "blackmail."

Delores Dixon's attorney told reporters that she had met Ruth in the spring of 1922.  "He used to be with her four and five times a week, taking her out frequently in his car."  But the two would not face off in court.  A month later, on April 28, The New York Times reported that Dixon's suit had been withdrawn.  Babe Ruth's attorney, Hyman Bushel, explained to reporters that Delores "admitted that the suit was the outcome of a 'frame-up.'"

Living here in 1956 was Robert Moscowitz, who was 70 years old and blind.  Around 7:00 on the night of June 29, he left 583 Riverside Drive heading to Lena Trunk's "cider stuble" at 221 East 83rd Street.  (A cider stuble was a bar that served only cider.)  Just before he arrived, 28-year-old Edward Sobek barged in and flourished a toy pistol.  He demanded that Lena Trunk give him $50.  Instead, Lena "dashed out the door and called the police."  Unaware of the situation, Moscowitz walked in.  Edward Sobek beat and robbed him of his $1.65 and inexpensive wristwatch and fled.  He did not get far.  Shortly after police arrived, they captured Sobek.

George Xavier lived here as early as 1976.  The 23-year-old worked as a parking lot attendant.  On the night of October 16 that year, he was playing cards with several men in front of 236 West 52nd Street.  An argument ensued and Xavier was fatally stabbed.

A renovation completed in February 2003 resulted in the Dorothy Day Apartments.  It was likely at this time that the stone balustrade was removed from the roofline.  The building now holds 70 affordable apartments for families in need.  It also provides an early childhood education center and on-site employment office.  Also in the building is the Rio II Gallery.

The Lost William Devoe House - 84 Carmine Street

 

The extension of Seventh Avenue resulted in a chamfered corner.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society.

Construction of the new Trinity Church was completed in 1790.  It replaced the 1697 original that was burned during the Revolution.  Historian Martha Lamb, in her 1877 History of the City of New York, noted that among the vestrymen who resolved "to set apart a pew in Trinity Church for the President" on March 8, 1790, was Nicholas Carman.  

Carman owned a large amount of land north of the city.  Three decades after he signed that resolution, streets were laid out on his property, one of which was named Carmine street, named for him despite the misspelling.  As early as 1827, Federal style homes were being erected along Carmine Street.  

Typical of them was 84 Carmine Street a two-and-a-half story, brick-faced house.  Twenty-feet wide, its entrance above a two-step porch most likely had narrow leaded sidelights and a transom.  Piercing the peaked roof were two dormers in the front and one in the rear.  The muntins of their round-arched windows created elegant, interlocking pointed arches.

As early as 1851, William H. Devoe and his wife, the former Susanna Hadden, occupied 84 Carmine Street.  Devoe was a principal in Devoe & Taylor, shipjoiners.  (Shipjoiners employed skilled craftsmen to manufacture the interior finished carpentry of vessels--like the cabinetry of staterooms, cabins, and such.)  

Living with the couple was Susanna's widowed mother, Catherine Hadden.  They rented unused rooms, as well.  An advertisement in the New-York Tribune on February 24, 1852 read, "To Let--The upper part of the House No. 84 Carmine-st.  Apply from 11 A.M. to 3 P.M.  Rent $160."  (The figure would translate to about $550 per month in 2026.)

The Haddens' tenants in 1851 were Albert Weber and his wife.  Weber was a well-known pianomaker on West Broadway.  The following year, August H. and Harriet N. Poe moved in.  Tragically, on Christmas morning that year, their only son, Charles Augustus, died.  His funeral was held in the house the following afternoon.

A son, William H. Devoe Jr., was born here on June 3, 1853.  

Catharine Hadden died at the age of 69 on September 21 "after a short illness," according to the New York Daily Herald.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on the morning of the 23rd. 

It might be that Catharine was the only musician in the family.  A week before her death, an advertisement in the New York Daily Herald read:

Great Sacrifice--An exceedingly fine-toned rosewood pianoforte, not three months used and fully warranted, with stool and cover, will be disposed of at an immense sacrifice, at 84 Carmine street, (on the Sixth avenue railroad).

(The Sixth Avenue streetcar was the closest public transportation at the time.  Varick Street ended at Houston Street and Hudson Street did not have a streetcar line.)

There would soon be another funeral in the house.  Little William H. Devoe Jr. died on November 22, 1855 at two years old.

The Devoes left Carmine Street around 1858, and their former home became a boarding house.  Living here that year were John H. Cooke, who listed his profession as "segars;" seaman Lewis Turin; and a newly-arrived woman from France.  She advertised on April 25, 1858:

A Parisian lady, having great experience in teaching her language, wants a few more scholars for private lessons.  Terms moderate.  Inquire at 84 Carmine street, near Varick.

The Moses Sammis family moved into the house in 1860.  Born in 1819, he and his wife, the former Harriet Anna Crocker, had nine sons and a daughter.  Son Clark Sammis would recall to the Brooklyn Eagle in 1909 that at the time of his parents' marriage, Moses "was known through Brooklyn in the old days as Colonel M. Sammis, and the product of the marriage was a very large family."

Moses Sammis's brothers were well-known in theatrical circles.  William and George were theatrical managers (George was the manager of the Grand Opera House).  Moses, on the other hand, took a more civic job.  He was a letter carrier when the family moved into 84 Carmine Street, and by 1864 he was a tax collector for the city.  

The parlor was yet again the scene of a funeral on February 21, 1864.  Three days earlier, Jay J. Sammis, the youngest son of Moses and Harriet, had died at the age of four.  Later that same year, the Sammis family moved to Brooklyn.

Perhaps because 84 Carmine Street was relatively remote from major streets, its parlor floor was not converted to a shop.  Owner John Flanagan leased the house.  Printer George Gregory and his family lived here from 1868 to '69, followed by another printer, Peter Vanbeuren.  Flanagan's tenants continued to rent unneeded space.  An advertisement in the New York Daily Herald on April 12, 1868 offered, "Furnished comfortable attic room to let--For one or two gentlemen or a single lady, for light housekeeping."

The advertisement was telling.  Because the attic was now being rented, the families obviously no longer had a live-in servant.  And offering a room to an unmarried lady was shocking at the time. It suggests that the neighborhood was already declining.

Joseph Lamb and his family moved in in 1873.  Lamb was in the furniture business with locations at 59 Carmine Street and 223 West Houston.  He was a partner with Richard Lamb, presumably a brother.  In 1878, son Frederick William Lamb was enrolled in the City College of New York.

While the previous tenants did not have a servant, the Lambs did.  An advertisement on May 20, 1880, read, "Wanted--A girl to do general housework in a private family; must be willing to go in the country; wages $12 per month."  (The monthly salary would equal $380 today.  And the mention of going to the country disclosed that the Lambs maintained a summer home.)

John Flanagan sold the house at auction on November 23, 1885 for $9,300 (about $313,000 today).  The ground floor became home to the Saint Bartholomew's Hospital and Dispensary following its incorporation in December 1888.  Its presence reflected the changes within the Greenwich Village neighborhood.  In its January 26, 1889 issue, The Medical Record reported that the dispensary provided "the free treatment of the diseases of the genito-urinary organs, both venereal and non-venereal, and of the skin."

The house was sold again in November 1898.  Mrs. Delli Fitzsimmons, who leased it in May 1904, operated it as a rooming house.  The following year, on December 1, 1905, the New-York Tribune reported that the tenants "were thrown into a panic last night when fire broke out in the cellar and filled the building with smoke."  Patrolmen Bunn and Walker rushed into the house and woke up the residents.  "As soon as the tenants were aroused they rushed from their apartments, shouting and struggling to get to the street," said the article.

Mary Sexon lived in the attic.  When she did not respond to the rapping of the policemen's nightsticks on the door, they broke it in.  "Mrs. Sexton was lying unconscious, overcome by the smoke which filled the rooms," reported the New-York Tribune.  She was removed to St. Vincent's Hospital where she was revived.

As early as 1910 a Frenchwoman, Jeanette Borrine, operated the "lodging house," as described by The New York Times.  Lodging houses were the lowest form of accommodations, and rooms were rented out on a daily basis.  No amenities other than a bed were provided.

On January 6 that year, a couple--Deaf Lilly and Billy the Gink--rented the attic room.  The New York Times explained, "the Frenchwoman, who had known her years ago, gave her lodging."  The newspaper said that Lilly once "was the beautiful wife of 'Big Barney' in the days when every one in McGurk's 'Suicide Hall' would push their tables back to the wall while the couple waltzed down the middle."  Lilly earned the nickname in those days as "The pride of the Stevedores."

But that was 15 or 20 years earlier.  "Big Barney" disappeared and Lilly resorted to prostitution to survive.  She was repeatedly arrested and sent to Blackwell's Island until, according to The New York Times, "she was scarcely admitted to the places where she had once reigned as queen."  Her new husband was a drunk and a brute.  The newspaper explained that he was known as Billy the Gink "because somebody once knocked out his right eye."

Two days after they moved in, another lodger, Maggie Whalen, told Jeanette Borrine, "Lilly took an awful beating to-night.  I could hear Billy walloping her."  On January 12, 1910, Borrine "began to worry at Lilly's non-appearance," so she entered the room.  The New York Times reported, "Deaf Lilly was found dead yesterday lying half under her bed in the little furnished room at the top floor."  The article said that police were looking for Billy the Gink.

At the time, discussions to extend Seventh Avenue (which began at 11th Street) south to Varick Street were being held.  In 1913, work began on a two-pronged project--the extension of the avenue and the construction of the Seventh Avenue subway.  Like a titan-sized lawn mower, the work cut a swatch through Greenwich Village, erasing scores of buildings and leaving others with sections sheared off.

No. 84 Carmine Street nearly escaped the project, although it skimmed a few feet off the western corner, resulting in the doorway and second-floor window to be placed at an angle.

84 Carmine Street (right) barely escaped the construction project.  Shelby White & Leon Levy Digital Library

Following the minor renovations, Vincenzo Cesareo moved into 84 Carmine Street.  He opened his Universal Scientific Institute in the ground floor.  Describing his business as a "school of hypnotism," he was also listed in the 1914 Directory of Publishers, Printers and Authors Issuing Books.

Cesareo's residency here would be short-lived.  On April 24, 1915, the New York Herald reported he was sentenced "to three months in the penitentiary for unlawfully practising [sic] medicine by hypnotizing patients into the belief that they were well."  The article said that Cesareo not only "used his own spiritual powers to persuade persons that his treatment was actually improving their health, but he employed his wife as the medium whose oracular utterances guided the patient to a cure."

A renovation completed in 1923 resulted in a commercial space on the first floor, home to the National Flexible Packing Co.'s general offices, and a single apartment in the upper floors.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The greatly altered, venerable structure survived until 1996, when it and the apartment building next door were replaced by a single-story structure.

Springsteen & Goldhammer's 1929 140 East 95th Street

 

In 1928, a year before the Stock Market Crash, the newly formed 1470 Lexington Avenue Corporation purchased the four-story apartment building at the southwest corner of Lexington Avenue and 95th Street.  The vintage structure was demolished to be replaced by a six-story apartment and store building.  Designed by Springsteen & Goldhammer, the romantic Mediterranean Revival-style structure was completed in 1929.

Storefronts lined the avenue and the residential entrance opened onto 95th Street.  The building's midsection was faced in beige textured brick and trimmed in cast stone.  Other than the corner, which rose to a charming tower, the top floor was clad in stucco.

Springsteen & Goldhammer's picturesque details included cast stone Renaissance-inspired frames at the second floor, with heraldic shields and pyramidal crockets.  

The upper portion was drawn from the historic buildings of Siena, with round-arched corbel tables, red tiled roofs, and romantic tower windows.

An advertisement offered apartments of two, three, or four rooms.  It described, "Charming rooms.  New electric refrigerators.  24-hour elevator service.  Well maintained building."  

The apartments filled with middle- and upper-middle class residents.  Among the first was Joseph W. Steinberg, a politically active Republican.  On April 18, 1931, The New York Times reported on the inaugural meeting of the Fifteenth Assembly District Republican Club.  The speeches lambasted the Democratic Governor Franklin D. Roosevelt, one speaker saying that the city had suffered his "dodging and double-crossing tactics."  The newly-elected president, Walter S. Mack, Jr. accused Tammany Hall as having become a "racket."  Joseph W. Steinberg was elected a vice-president that night.

Another early resident was Geoffrey V. Thomas, who managed the properties owned by the Central Savings Bank.  His responsibilities ballooned in the 1930s, as the Depression forced the bank to foreclose on more and more real estate.

James D. Covington and his wife were initial tenants.  Covington's complaint in 1932 was, interestingly, not the economic conditions so much as the poor quail hunting in the Northeast.  On November 26, The New York Sun ran a lengthy article that called the tri-state hunting conditions "almost ideal."  Covington, a native of Georgia, refuted that and complained about quail hunting on Long Island.

"First off, the scarcity of game here makes it doubly hard to satisfy a Southern hunter," he told the reporter.  Back home, he said, "It was no trick to bag the limit of twenty-five birds per person per day." 

In the 19th century, beer breweries made fortunes for German immigrants like George Ehret, Peter Doelger and Jacob Ruppert.  Prohibition closed down those businesses and their sprawling brewery buildings sat shuttered.  But four years after 140 East 95th Street was opened, Prohibition was repealed and several of those facilities stirred back to life.

Among them was the Ruppert Brewery, the traffic and field manager of which was Charles Reichert, who lived here with his second wife, Delores.  In the spring of 1949, the delivery truck drivers walked off the job and the sidewalks outside the brewery at Third Avenue and 92nd Street became a sea of picketing strikers.

Late on the afternoon of May 13, Dolores went to the brewery and threaded her way through the 500 pickets and into the building.  At around 6:00 the couple left.  As they made their way through the mob, the drivers "exchanged words" with Reichert.  His replies were not well received by the out-of-work union members.  Two drivers "punched him in the face," as reported by The New York Times.  Reichert had Patrick Skully and Mortimer J. Monohan arrested for simple assault.

Living here in the 1950s was Nathan B. and Ethel Gurock.  Born in 1901, Nathan was a graduate of the New York University Law School.  He served as a secretary to State Supreme Court Justice Irving L. Levey for 14 years before becoming a general law assistant to the court justices.  In 1959 he was appointed a special referee of the State Supreme Court.

An interesting resident was Herman Davidowitz, who lived here with his wife, the former Rebecca Blank in the 1960s.  Born in Szeget, Hungary in 1897, Davidowitz arrived in America in 1921.  He founded Cravats by Dee, Ltd, a tie manufacturing firm.  He and Rebecca had two adult sons, Rabbi Moshe L. Davidowitz and psychologist Dr. Jacob Davidowitz.

Herman started collecting Judaica as a hobby.  The New York Times reported that it, "soon took him to many countries as he gathered menorahs of silver, bronze, brass, gold and clay; coins; embroideries; illustrated manuscripts; marriage contracts; scrolls; paintings, and other objects of Jewish religious and secular life."  

Rebecca died in 1964.  A few days later, when asked by The Jewish Press where he got the money to purchase his collection, Herman replied, "What others spent for pleasures, to go to the mountains or to Florida, my late wife and I invested in our collection."  In March 1967, he sold 190 items at the Parke-Bernet Galleries, Inc., realizing $60,840 (about $571,000 in 2026).

Shortly afterward, Davidowitz began plans to establish a tie business in Haifa, Israel and relocate there.  In January 1969, he embarked on a trip to Israel relating to those plans.  He made a stop-off in Florence, Italy on the way "looking for additions to his large collection of Judaica," according to The New York Times.  While there, on January 16, he suffered a fatal heart attack.  His funeral service and burial were held in Haifa.

Other than the remodeled avenue storefronts, Springsteen & Goldhammer's charismatic structure is little changed since it opened during the first year of the Great Depression.

photographs by the author

The 1855 Peter Gibson House - 139 East 18th Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

By the end of the 1840s, Gramercy Square (known today as Gramercy Park), was ringed with fine mansions.  Its refined tenor spilled into the neighboring blocks, and in 1855 D. Hennessy completed five brick faced houses two blocks away, on the north side of East 18th Street between Third Avenue and Irving Place.

Four stories tall above short basements, they were just two bays wide.  The segmentally arched openings wore handsome cast iron lintels, chosen from a local foundry's catalog.  Each house had its own bracketed cornice.

Among them was 106 East 18th Street (renumbered 139 in 1865).  It became home to builder Peter Gibson and his family.  

The family briefly took in a roomer in 1857.  Their advertisement in the New-York Tribune on September 29 read, "106 East 18th-st., near Irving-place--One or two nicely-furnished rooms or two handsome parlors, to let to gentlemen only, without board, in a modern-built house, with a private family."  The ad was answered by James M. Hamilton, a retired merchant.  It appears that the Gibsons valued their privacy more than the income, and no other roomer was listed after 1857.

The Gibson family moved to 132 East 19th Street in 1859 and the 18th Street house became home to Gustave Herter and his wife, Anna.  Herter listed his profession as, "furniture, 547 Broadway."  It did not reflect his talents.

Born in Germany in 1830, he and his half-brother, Christian Augustus Ludwig Herter, who was nine years younger than he, learned cabinetmaking from their father.  Gustave Herter arrived in New York City in 1848 and established his furniture-making shop.  Around the time that he and Anna purchased 106 East 18th Street, Christian arrived in New York and joined the business, renaming it Herter Brothers around 1864.

Herter Brothers designed and manufactured high-end furniture.  Their remarkable pieces both followed and set fashionable trends, and caught the eye of America's wealthiest patrons.  By the late 1860s, they not only created the furnishings of America's mansions, but decorated the rooms around them.  When President Ulysses S. Grant and First Lady Julia Grant moved into the White House in 1869, they commissioned Herter Brothers to redecorate the Executive Mansion.

This illustration titled "A Corner in the Drawing Room" shows a portion of Herter Brothers' furniture and decoration of William Henry Vanderbilt's Fifth Avenue mansion. Mr. Vanderbilt's House and Collection, 1883 (copyright expired)

By 1873, Herter Brothers was, perhaps, the foremost furniture maker and interior design firm in the country.  With their success came affluence.  That year Gustave and Anna left 139 East 18th Street.  Their furnishings--no doubt all of which came from the Herter Brothers workrooms--were sold at auction on April 16 and among the offerings were, "fine Parlor, Chamber [i.e, bedroom], Library, Hall, Dining Room and Kitchen" furniture, described by the auctioneer as "elegant."

The house was briefly operated as a boarding house until Dr. William W. Hurd, a dentist, moved in in 1876.  Hurd and his family remained until 1884, when Richard Cary Morse purchased 139 East 18th Street.  

Richard Cary Morse, from the collection of the Springfield College Archives.

Born in Hudson, New York on September 19, 1841, Morse was a nephew of inventor Samuel F. B. Morse.  Although he studied at the Princeton and Union Theological Seminaries, he never pursued active ministry.  In 1869, he became involved with the Y.M.C.A.

On June 21, 1883, Morse married Jane Elizabeth Van Cott.  She would regularly be hostess to Y.M.C.A. leaders.  In his autobiography, My Life With Young Men, for instance, Morse writes:

In 1884, and several succeeding years, the Secretaries, on coming to the city for the annual dinner, spent the day in our home at 139 East 18th Street...The morning and afternoon were spent in our parlor and library on the second floor, going over each man's work for the year past, and the program of his department for the coming year.

Richard and Jane Morse remained here until around 1898, after which 139 East 18th Street was operated as a boarding house.  It was run by Mrs. Mollie Galler by 1917.

Two boarders who arrived in 1919 had much in common.  With the war ended, former soldier Antonio de Blaza returned to New York.  He took a room here and found a job as a porter in the Hilliard Building, an office building at 55 John Street.  And in August, Army Sergeant Ernest W. Gooch rented a room.   A native of Indiana, he had been reassigned to the Army Recruiting Office at East 14th Street and Third Avenue.

Sergeant Gooch was dealing with dark demons.  Four weeks after moving in, on September 15, 1919, Gooch committed suicide by shooting himself in his room.   The New-York Tribune reported, "Two sealed letters addressed to his company commander were found."

Another tragedy occurred a month later.  On October 17, The Sun reported that Antonio de Blaza "was caught between the elevator and the shaft opening on the first floor landing" at his job.  "Firemen were called to extricate him, but before he was released he was dead."  The article mentioned, "He was unmarried and had recently returned from service overseas."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Luke Chess, who rented a room here in 1921, worked as a mechanical engineer for the Standard Oil Company.  In the early hours of September 13, he was awakened by a knock on his door.  Two men and a woman "demanded his jewelry," according to Chess.  The would-be robbers were unprepared for his reaction.  

Suspicious of the unexpected visit in the middle of the night, Chess had pulled out his revolver before answering the door.  The New York Times reported, "Clad in pajamas, Luke Chess...chased two men and a woman from his apartment at 139 East Eighteenth Street early yesterday and fired several shots after them."  One of the men escaped, but Gladys Kaufman and Charles Banno were apprehended.

Seven days later two another residents appeared in the newspapers, for a much different reason.  On September 30, 1921, the Daily Star reported that the four men responsible for the theft of ten automobiles recently had been arrested.  Among them was "James Stapleton, alias Rogers, alias Frisco, of 139 East Eighteenth street, Manhattan," said the article.  Another gang member, James Hall, who also lived here, was already in jail, "having admitted committing three hold-ups in Manhattan."

John Cole, who lived here in 1937, worked at the Horn & Hardart Automat at 115 East 14th Street.  He was on the picket line outside on Christmas night that year when he and another striker, George Russo, became annoyed with the police officers, "calling them 'rats and finks' and causing a crowd of more than 500 to gather, after they had been warned to desist," reported The New York Times on December 29.  The fingerprints of both men revealed that they had previous convictions.  Their calling officers derogatory names landed them in the workhouse for 60 days.

photograph by Carole Teller

A renovation completed in 1989 resulted in a duplex apartment in the basement and first floors, two duplexes that shared the second and third floors, and one apartment on the fourth.  The configuration was amended in 2010 when the top three floors were combined as a triplex apartment.

many thanks to reader Carole Teller for suggesting this post