photograph by Anthony Bellov
Born in Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany in 1851, John P. Schuchman arrived in New York City in 1868. He became an attorney and was highly active in the Lower East Side German community, known as Kleindeutschland. He sat on the Tenement House Committee in the 1890s, which worked to improve the conditions of the working-class. His involvement in the German community was greatly reflected on April 17, 1894 when he signed a 13-year renewable lease on 190 Third Avenue, known as Scheffel Hall. In 1891 he was appointed a judge in City Court.
In 1900, Judge Schuchman purchased the two vintage houses at 126 and 128 East 12th Street between Third and Fourth Avenues. On March 11, The New York Times reported that John G. Prague had filed plans for "a six-story brick and stone flat" on the site. He pr0jected the construction cost at $60,000, or about $2.37 million in 2026.
The commission was unusual for Prague for several reasons. The prolific builder-architect worked almost exclusively on the Upper West Side where he created more than 200 private rowhouses, and he most often worked for himself.
Prague was known for his ebullient decorative elements. Interestingly, for The Schuchman he focused only on the first floor. Above a short stone stoop, he blended brick and brownstone to create a stark contrast of sharp angles (created by the crisp quoins around the openings) and sensuous Romanesque carved ornaments. The keystone of the foliate carved, concave-arched entranceway took the form of a female head from which swirling ornaments spread Medusa-like. Unlike most Medieval inspired carvings of the Romanesque Revival style, Prague's boiled with movement.
The stone carver made the decorations come alive--seeming to spume from the portrait keystone. The bases of the engaged columns are vibrant with flame-like movement. photograph by Anthony Bellov
Prague was unexpectedly reserved in the mid- and upper sections. Faced in yellow ironspot brick, their square-headed openings wore uninspired, flat brownstone lintels. The top floor sat within molded cornices.
There were four apartments per floor in The Schuchman, which was described by the New York Herald as "a bachelor apartment house." An advertisement described: "Five rooms and bath; hot water, elevator, steam heat."
Among the first to move in was its owner, Justice John P. Schuchman. Other residents were middle-class professionals--at least one doctor and several lawyers. Another initial tenant was Willis H. Alling, who used his apartment as his studio. He advertised, "teacher of piano and organ, interpretation in singing, Concert and Studio Accompanist."
Although patent attorney Jacob N. McIntyre was "a sufferer from paralysis," as worded by The New York Times, he continued working and had offices in the Temple Court Building. He hired Signey C. Olesen as his nurse and housekeeper in 1895. But when he moved into The Schuchman he dismissed her. The unemployed woman was infuriated.
On January 3, 1901 McIntyre (who "uses an ear trumpet," according to the New-York Tribune) was arrested. Signey C. Olesen accused him of stealing a $300 pair of diamond earrings from her. She also charged, "that through the entire six years of her service, although she was to receive $20 a month, she received only about $50 in all from Mr. McIntyre."
The two faced off in court on January 11. Olesen asserted that the 65-year-old had given her the earrings "in lieu of salary." McIntyre countered that, "he simply let her wear them once, and that he never gave them to her." The case was dismissed because there was no hard evidence against McIntyre.
At the time, 58-year-old Dr. David Cory shared a first-floor apartment with a man identified only as "a Mr. Ryan." The physician suffered with alcoholism. Were his patients to discover that their doctor had a drinking problem, Cory's career would be ruined. On July 30, 1901, police found him "in a state of alcoholic coma" on Fourth Avenue at 14th Street. He was taken to the Belleville Hospital alcoholic ward where he said his name was "John Correy" and his contact was "Mrs. Ryan," at 126 East 12th Street. He was released the next day.
On August 19, Dr. Cory was found drunk and unconscious again. Once again he was taken to Belleville Hospital, but this time he died "less than thirty minutes after he was admitted," as reported by the New York Herald. A reporter visited his apartment at The Schuchman, but "Mr. Ryan was not at home," said the New York Herald.
Justice John P. Schuchman retired from the City Court on January 1, 1902. Two years later, on the evening of September 28, 1904, he returned home and "met a man on his way out. The man was carrying the hall carpet on his back," reported The Evening World. When Schuchman asked Edward Conner what he was doing, he responded that he was merely "taking the floor covering out to dust it."
Using street slang that he no doubt picked up during court cases, Judge Schuchman said, "I think that you intend to dust with the carpet." ("To dust" meant to hurry off or flee.) Schuchman attempted to detain Connor, but he "fought vigorously." The uproar attracted Policeman Kepko who arrested the would-be carpet thief. In court Connor confessed, "If I'd knowed a judge lived in the house I'd have passed it by. I suppose I'll have to do me bit now." (To "do one's bit" was to serve a jail sentence.)
The young bachelor Charles R. Buffalow lived here as early as 1905. On February 25, 1907, he gave himself a dinner "on the anniversary of his 22d birthday," as worded by The New York Age. The article said his twelve guests "were entertained in a most charming manner." The lifestyles of The Schuchman residents were reflected in Buffalow's menu that evening. The article listed the "relish course" as including oysters, blue points on the half shell, sherry and salted almonds. For the soup course there was green turtle soup, deviled crabs, fish, and white wine. The entree included roast filet beef, mushrooms, petit pols pommes and champagne; and asparagus vinaigrette was the salad course. The dessert course was "biscuit tortoni and dematasse [sic] cordials."
John Schuchman rented an apartment on January 9, 1908. He had, apparently, not thoroughly vetted his new tenant. Schuchman arrived home three nights later to find police in the building. "What is all this excitement about?" he asked. "I am John Schuchman, formerly Justice of the City Court. I own this apartment house and live upstairs."
To his surprise, Police Captain Shaw responded, "I am raiding a poolroom. These men are prisoners." (A poolroom was an illegal gambling operation.) The New York Herald said, "The ex-Justice said he found it hard to realize that such a thing as a poolroom had got into his house."
Among the prisoners were Dan O'Rourke, alias Diamond Dan, and George Wilson, alias Chick Trigger, both well-known Bowery figures. The New York Herald said the police "found racing sheets and other things connected with the ponies" in the apartment.
On May 2, 1908, The New York Sun reported that around 7:30 the previous evening John P. Schuchman was driving a runabout (a light buggy) on Lenox avenue. Suddenly, "his horse took fright at an automobile near 117th street and dashed into a trolley car." The impact was significant. The article said that the horse "hit the car squarely amidship and the Judge was thrown through the side window of the car." Astoundingly, Schuchman was catapulted through the trolley car window. "He landed in the aisle, knocking over in his flight Ethel Douglas, 7 years old." The New York Times remarked, "Mr. Schuchman's entrance caused a panic among the passengers."
The little girl was not injured, however Schuchman was removed from the trolly unconscious. Shaken up, he was treated for cuts on his head, face and hands on the site. His horse, sadly, broke a foreleg and had to be shot.
Later that year, John P. Schuchman moved back to Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany. He died there in 1914.
The residents of The Schuchman continued to be professional. Living here in 1914 was John B. Golden, a Democratic Assemblyman. He sat on the assembly's committee of Codes and Public Education.
William Boland and his wife, Magdalen, lived here in the post-World War I years. Born in 1843, Boland served in the Civil War. In 1924, he was one of the last 300 surviving veterans of that war living in New York City. During the city's Memorial Day parade on May 29 that year, "Those who had fought in the three wars within the generation's span shouldered guns again," said The New York Evening Post.
Despite his advanced age, William Boland marched with the Lloyd Aspinal Post. In its extensive coverage of the military event, The New York Evening Post recounted a touching moment. It said that when his unit reached the reviewing stand, "William Boland, eighty-one...looked searchingly around for a lavender hat. The owner of that bonnet also was looking for him. They spied each other at the same time." The article continued:
Mrs. Magdalen Boland, her little hat bobbing clambered down from the stand as her husband stepped from the ranks. They stood in front of the reviewing stand and kissed. Then Boland ran to join his company.
By the Depression years, several of the tenants of 126 East 12th Street showed activist tendencies. On September 28, 1935, two residents, 21-year-old William Castle and 22-year-old John Lamarr, were arrested as part of a mass demonstration. The group, the National Students League, had been protesting a motion picture that, according to The New York Times, "shows a radical youth in an unfavorable light in comparison with a conservative American."
The 1936 Official Report of the Special Committee on Un-American Activities listed several residents of 126 East 12th Street as registered Communist Party members.
The arrest on March 6, 1937 by Federal agents of resident See Too, who operated a retail business, was shocking. That afternoon, the freighter Taybank arrived in Brooklyn from Shanghai with crates consigned to See Too. Customs officials "seized 600 tins of prepared smoking opium," reported The New York Times. Agents said that the importance of the raid did not lay in the amount of the drug captured, "but in the fact that the raid had broken the link of a major smuggling ring with world-wide activities stretching from Shanghai to New York."
The New York Times reported, "The dark, chunky See Too sat in the outer room of headquarters of the special agents [and] at 5 o'clock last night he was still there, puffing on a long cigar, his face expressionless."
At around the time of See Too's arrest, the ground floor of 126 East 12th Street was given a coat of stucco.
A more drastic modernization came in the 1960s or 1970s when the intermediate and terminal cornices were removed.
Happily, a restoration initiated in 2017 included the installation of approximate replicas of the cornices, the removal of the ground floor covering, and the cleaning and repairing the masonry.
many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post













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