The 1854 Seba Smith House - 46 Stuyvesant Street

On April 1, 1854, builder John L. Smith sold the newly-erected house at 46 Stuyvesant Street to optometrist Samuel Elliott for $10,700 (about $401,000 in 2025 terms).  Smith had acquired the oddly-shaped lot a year earlier.  His handsome Anglo-Italianate facade successfully disguised the triangular-shaped interior layout.

The entrance, above a short stoop, was centered within a rusticated brownstone base.  The openings of the red brick-faced upper levels wore simple stone lintels.  A bracketed Italianate cornice finished the design.

If Samuel Elliott, ever lived in the house, his residency was short-lived.  In May 1855, he moved to Staten Island and sold 46 Stuyvesant Street to Seba Smith for $17,000, making a tidy profit.  

Seba Smith was a humorist and author, and his wife was author and poet Elizabeth Oakes Smith (who went professionally by her first initial).  Also living with them was their adult son, Appleton Oaksmith and his wife, Isofta.  (All six of the Smiths' sons were given the merged surnames of their mother and father.)  Mary Alice Wyman, in her 1927 Two American Pioneers--Seba Smith and Elizabeth Oakes Smith, writes, "The sons, now grown to manhood, were at home intermittently when not occupied in business elsewhere."  The second eldest son, Sidney Oaksmith, was consul to Haiti at the time.

Born in Maine in 1792, Seba Smith founded the Portland Courier in 1830.  His series of satirical books about the fictional character Major Jack Downing, the first of which was published in 1830, were highly popular.

Seba Smith, from the collection of Northeastern Illinois University

Elizabeth Oakes Prince was born in Portland, Maine in 1806 and married Seba Smith in 1823.  (She was 16 and Smith was 30.)  Her early poems like the 1841 "A Corpse Going to a Ball" and "The Sinless Child," published the following year, were widely read.  By the time the family moved into 46 Stuyvesant Street, she was writing essays on women's rights that urged for equality in political, educational and economic opportunities.

This portrait Elizabeth Oakes Prince Smith was painted by John Wesley Paradise around 1845, from the collection of the National Gallery of Art

 Wyman writes, 

In the Stuyvesant Street house...Mrs. Oakes Smith did much entertaining and included among her literary guests several other foreign patriots who had visited this country for help or who, because of political troubles in their own land, were living as exiles.

Indeed, in her autobiography, E. Oakes Smith writes, "Italians,  Spaniards, Cubans were amongst our guests, and in an unheroic period filled the imagination of my household with heroic ideas--with admiration for men and women who could turn their backs upon ease and frivolity, and give place to earnest, self-sacrificing endeavor."  The subjects discussed, she said, included women's suffrage, civil rights and slavery.

When the family moved into the Stuyvesant Street house, 27-year-old Appleton listed his profession as "merchant."  A year later he was described by the New-York Daily Tribune on October 14, 1856 as, "the Representative of Nicaragua in this country."  William Walker had established himself as president there and he made Appleton Oaksmith Minister Plenipotentiary to the United States.

A year later, the Oaksmiths suffered tragedy.  On September 6, 1857, Buchanan, the only child of Appleton and Isofta, died a month before his first birthday.  His funeral was held in the parlor on September 8.

In 1858, the Smiths hired 12-year-old Rosa Simpson as a servant girl.  They paid her $2 per month wages to her father, John Simpson.  Two years later, Rosa ran off.  In what today might be called "tough love," Seba Smith charged the teen with vagrancy and she was sent to the House of Refuge.  He said that "after a suitable time for her reformation," he "proposed to adopt her and take her from that Institution."

On January 31, 1860, John Simpson sued the Smiths, alleging they "forcibly detained [Rosa] at No. 46 Stuyvesant-street" and that "Mrs. Smith was an improper person to have the care of the child."  Rosa Simpson testified on the Smiths' defense.  Calling her, "an intelligent little girl," The New York Times reported that she stated, "that she would rather remain with Mr. Smith's people than return to her relatives; she was well treated and comfortable where she was, and her father had no means for her support."

The Smiths left 46 Stuyvesant Street in 1860 after purchasing a Colonial home in Patchogue, Long Island that year, which they named "The Willows."  A year later, in December 1861, Appleton Oaksmith was captured by Union forces on Fire Island for colluding with the Confederacy.  Somewhat astonishingly, given his mother's marked stance against slavery, he was accused of using former Nicaraguan ships for gun-running and transporting slaves.  The Smiths were outspoken regarding his innocence.

In the meantime, 46 Stuyvesant Street became home to the Charles L. Curtis family.  A hardware merchant, Curtis also volunteered with Hook and Ladder Company No. 4.  Soon after moving his family into the house, he traveled to Washington D.C. with two other firefighters in hopes that their newly-formed Second Regiment Fire Zouaves would be accepted by the Union.  Although firefighters were exempted from the draft, he and 700 others formed the regiment.  The volunteer soldiers served throughout the conflict.

The Curtis family remained at 46 Stuyvesant Street through 1864, when 15-year-old Charles Frederick Curtis was attending Public School 35.

Dr. Lansing P. Munson briefly followed the Curtises.  In 1865, he advertised his office hours as 8:00 to 10:00 a.m. and 4:00 to 7:00 p.m.  Later that year, however, on October 11, an advertisement in the New York Herald offered, "A fine office to let--suitable for a physician or dentist."

The house became home to State Assemblyman Thomas J. Creamer.  Born in Ireland in 1843, he came to America as a boy and attended public schools.  After working in a drygoods firm, he was elected to the State Assembly in 1865, the same year he moved into 46 Stuyvesant Street.

Thomas J. Creamer, The American Government: Biographies of Members of the House of Representatives of the Forty-Third Congress (1874) copyright expired

In 1867, the Creamers took in two veteran boarders--John G. Brosnahan, of the U.S. Navy; and A. H. Fisher, of the U.S. Army.

The following year, Creamer was elected to the New York State Senate and served to 1871.  He was elected to Congress in 1873.  At the end of his term on March 3, 1875, he returned to the Stuyvesant Street house.

Early in October 1878, an attempt to steal the body of millionaire Alexander Turney Stewart from its tomb was made.  The following month, on November 14, the crime was successful and Stewart's body was held for "a large ransom," as reported by The New York Times.

Now, Creamer connected two incidents outside his window to the crime.  On November 16, The New York Times reported, "Ex-Senator Thomas J. Creamer...told to a Times reporter yesterday two seemingly important stories...concerning the mysterious boarders of No. 44, next door, and their departure on Thursday morning with a black trunk, supposed to contain the remains of A. T. Stewart."  Creamer recalled that on the night of the first attempt, he had been reading on his sofa on the second floor at around 2 a.m. when a carriage pulled up to his front door.  "He saw three men get out of the carriage and talk to the driver."

Not appearing to be nosey, he returned to his reading.  But when the carriage did not leave, he got up, opened the window and asked the driver what he wanted.  The driver drove off, but returned a few minutes later.  The three men returned, got into the carriage and left.  The Times said, "Mr. Creamer thinks that this was the occasion of the first attempt, and that the driver, seeing him watching so persistently, drove around as a signal of danger, which caused the robbers to desist."

On the night of the actual robbery, Creamer had a houseguest, "an old lady, of the highest respectability, whose name the ex-Senator would not mention."  Creamer was out of town and the guest arose early the following morning.  At 7:20, she heard a carriage pull up.  Thinking it might be Creamer, she looked out of the second floor window.  Two men came out of 44 Stuyvesant Street.  "They carried a black leather trunk, which they handled very carefully, yet appeared to be in a great hurry," recounted the article.  They loaded it into the carriage and the drove "rapidly off" towards Second Avenue.  The New York Times added to the story, saying, "a peculiar smell was discovered in the room vacated by the mysterious strangers, and they left their water running behind them as though to wash down all traces of some dirt which they had been cleaning into the basin."

William J. Morris purchased 46 Stuyvesant Street in November 1880 for $9,950 (about $306,000 today).  He leased it to a "Mrs. Feltheimer" who operated it as a boarding house.  

In 1890, Annie Steinhof arrived from Germany and was hired here as a servant.  Each month she deposited her wages into the Dry Dock Savings Bank, "trying to save money enough to send for her father and mother and sister, who are living in poverty in Germany," explained The New York Sun later.  Among the boarders the following year was Joseph J. Mulligan.  He was friendly to Annie and, despite being born in Ireland, "used to try to talk to her in German," said the newspaper.

She told him about her dream to bring her family to America, and on March 6, 1891, she told him she had saved up $100.55, enough to buy steamship tickets.  Mulligan baited the girl, musing that while he was "a first-class printer," he had no money, yet Annie, "who could not write her own name," had enough to start a small business.  Indignant, Annie wrote her name on a sheet of paper to prove she was not illiterate.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Shortly after the incident, Mulligan and his roommate left the boarding house.  On March 19, Annie went to the bank to deposit her $10 wages for February and discovered $60 had been withdrawn.  It was taken out on March 7.  Above Annie's signature on the blank page, Mulligan had written a letter, authorizing the holder to withdraw the funds.  Mulligan was arrested on March 24.  Annie's hard-earned funds were gone, but he "offered to repay the money by installments if spared prosecution."  

The Morris family retained possession of 46 Stuyvesant Street until 1921 when they sold it to Herman Groh.  It operated as a rooming house for decades.  

George Monisco roomed here in the fall of 1931 when he suffered a bizarre accident.  The 51-year-old could not sleep on the night of September 18.  At 4:30 a.m., he got up and took a walk to John J. Murphy Park along the East River.  The New York Sun reported, "he fell over an iron fence on the retaining wall and into the water."  Monisco flailed in the water as the current carried him about a block, to 16th Street.  His cries attracted three employees of the Willard Parker Memorial Hospital, who dived into the river and pulled him 40 feet back to shore.  He was taken into the hospital, "suffering from submersion," said the article.

A renovation completed in 1961 resulted in a duplex apartment in the cellar and first floor, and one apartment each in the upper floors.  The house, with its extraordinary history, survives virtually unchanged.

photographs by the author

The Greatly Altered Cephas G. Thompson House - 30 Lexington Avenue

 

photo by Allen Sheinman

John Watts, Sr. served as a member of the Colonial Assembly and the King's Council.  In 1747, he acquired the 130-acre country estate of his father-in-law James DeLancey.  He named the property Rose Hill after the Watts ancestorial home near Edinburgh, Scotland.  The sprawling property ran from the East River to about what today is Park Avenue South, and from 21st to 30th Streets.

A loyalist, Watts lost Rose Hill Farm to the Committee of Forfeiture after the Revolution.  John Watts, Jr., a patriot, was permitted to re-purchase much of the land.  By his death in 1836, he had begun parceling off portions as the expanding city slowly encroached into the district.  By the time John Watts, Jr. died in 1836, he had already begun parceling off portions of the Rose Hill estate.  

In 1832, Lexington Avenue and Irving Place were opened.  Between them, Samuel Ruggles would create Gramercy Square, opened in 1849, a private, landscaped park surrounded with elegant mansions.

The residential tenor of Gramercy Park spread up Lexington Avenue.  Upscale, high-stooped brick and brownstone homes were erected before the outbreak of the Civil War, including that of Cephas Giovanni Thompson at 20 Lexington Avenue (renumbered 30 in 1867).  The three-story-and-basement Italianate home was faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.

Cephas Giovanni Thompson created unusual group portrait of his family around 1857.  from the collection of the Boston Athenaeum.

Born on August 3, 1809 in Middleborough, Massachusetts, Thompson was the son of American painter Cephas Thompson.  Cephas Giovanni and his wife, the former Mary Gouverneur Ogden, had three children.  He took his family to Italy in 1852 and lived and worked there for seven years.  While there, Thompson became close friends with expatriate American author Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Upon relocating to New York City in 1859, the Thompsons moved into the newly-built Lexington Avenue house.  That year Thompson listed his profession in the city directories as "historical and portrait painter."  The Lexington Avenue house was hung with a striking art collection, described by The New York Times later as, "the fruit of many years of careful selection of Mr. C. G. Thompson...while residing in Rome, Florence, Naples, and other European cities, and contains examples of the production of the great masters in this particular branch of art from the fifteenth century down to the present day."

Cephas Giovanni Thompson, from Book of Artists, 1870 (copyright expired)

In March 1865, Thompson advertised the house for sale.  It was purchased by Thomas J. McCahill as an investment property.  That year, it was shared by the families of Edward J. Anglim, a drygoods merchant, and James H. Hollingshead, a partner in the electrotyping firm Gay & Hollingshead.

In 1867, Ann R. Rivers leased the residence.  The widow of William Rivers, she operated it as a boarding house.  Living with her were her adult children, Guy and Mary.  Four years later, on January 5, 1871, Thomas J. McCahill transferred the title of 30 Lexington Avenue to Ann Maria Palmer.  It would not be long afterward that she discovered that she had a problem tenant.

On June 9, 1872, the New York Dispatch reported the scandalous details of the divorce proceedings of William H. Kimball, "a wealthy dealer in refined oils," and his wife, Anna.  Among the scurrilous charges against Kimball was that:

...on the morning of the 10th day of January, in the year 1872, at a house of assignation and prostitution, situated at No. 30 Lexington avenue, in the city of New York, kept by a woman known as Mrs. Rivers, did commit adultery with a woman.

Not surprisingly, the shocking publicity ended Ann R. Rivers's enterprise.  Within a few months of the article, Maria Brown, another widow, was operating the boarding house.

Around 1896, the ground floor of 30 Lexington Avenue was converted for business purposes.  The stoop was removed and a cast iron storefront installed.  In 1898,  a stationery store occupied the front and the Sanblom bicycle store was in the rear.

The ground floor was remodeled to a saloon in the summer of 1901 by Edward Lowry and Joseph Regan.  The Evening World said on November 19, "The men are less than forty years old and have been friends for years.  A few weeks ago they opened the saloon in partnership and no one supposed that their relations were not amicable and pleasant."  The problem was, as the newspaper explained, "Lowry had no money and [Regan] put up the necessary cash."  The lopsided business relationship quickly degenerated into animosity.  Within weeks, Lowry started sending Regan threatening letters.  On November 10, Regan's wife discovered and read one of the opened letters.  "She became frightened," reported The Evening World.

The newspaper continued, "Last night, Regan says, he went to the saloon to tell Lowry to stop writing the letters, when the two got into an argument."  Lowry pulled out a revolver and fired at his partner, the bullet piercing Regan's coat collar.  The Evening World reported that the bullet, "inflicted only a trifling wound."  

According to the bartender, John Page, Regan took out his revolver and fired three shots at Lowry.  Despite Lowry's being hit in the arm, head and stomach, a physician at Bellevue Hospital stated that his condition "is not serious."   Regan was arrested and Patrolman Stephenson told the court, "he had found a dirk knife and a dagger on Regan, besides the revolver."

Not surprisingly, Regan's and Lowry's saloon was short-lived.  The space became home to the headquarters of The Armenian Union of America.

The estate of Ann Maria Palmer sold the property in 1908.  As early as 1913, the former Armenian Union of America space was occupied by the 12th-14th Assembly District Headquarters.  Not everything was politics within its confines.  On February 18, 1915, for instance, the New York Evening Call reported, "The monthly entertainment and dance of the 12th-14th A. D. will take place Sunday evening, February 21, at headquarters, 30 Lexington avenue."  The group shared the space with the Young People's Socialist League.

In March 1915, Catherine Sheridan leased the commercial space "for use as a physical culture restaurant," according to The Sun.  The physical culture trend at the time promoted healthful living and nutritional foods.  The increasingly Armenian population of the district was reflected in Pavillion d'Orient, an Armenian Restaurant, occupying the space in the post World War I years.

A renovation completed in 1937 created a store in the ground and former parlor floors.  While traces of the 1890s cast iron storefront remained, an arcade-style show window was installed at the sidewalk level.  The slightly-projecting store space was given a charming shingled roof that was copied in the replacement of the 1850s cornice.  The Department of Buildings demanded that the second and third floors remain "vacant."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

At mid-century, the store space was occupied by Parkside Cleaners.  Briefly, in the early 1970s, it was home to the New Moravian Church.  

Seen here in the mid-1980s, the building had little changed since the 1937 re-do.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The last relic of pre-Civil War life on the block, a significant renovation came to 30 Lexington Avenue in 1997.  Two stories with a peaked roof were added and a coat of stucco applied to the brick.  Traces of the 1890s iron storefront survive.  A renovation in 2013 resulted in one apartment each on the third through fifth floors.

many thanks to reader Allen Sheinman for suggesting this post

The William and Caroline M. Sewell House - 320 Lexington Avenue

 

photograph by Ted Leather

The developing Murray Hill district drew millionaires like the Phelps and Dodge families in the 1840s.  By the outbreak of the Civil War, Lexington Avenue between 38th and 39th Streets was lined with the handsome residences of affluent bankers, brokers, attorneys and merchants.  Among them was the Sewell residence at 292 Lexington Avenue (renumbered 320 in 1867).

Faced in sandstone, the four-story-and-basement Italianate residence featured an arched, double-doored entrance above a high stoop.  Its triangular pediment sat upon scrolled brackets.  Almost assuredly, the full-height parlor windows were originally fronted by a cast iron balcony.  Prominent cornices sat atop the architrave frames of the openings.  The fourth floor took the form of a slate-shingled mansard.

William Sewell, Jr.  (original source unknown.)

Born in 1810, William Sewell, Jr. was Chief Engineer of the United States Navy.  He and his wife, the former Caroline Matilda Dunscomb, had three children, Julia Elizabeth, Walter Dunscomb, and Henry.

Sewell's engineering expertise went further than military vessels.  On April 14, 1860, for instance, The New York Times reported on the launching of the Adriatic, "the most comfortable passenger-ship in service."  The article mentioned that it was outfitted with the "fresh water condenser of Mr. Sewell," as well as the "excellent life-preserving pillows of Mr. William Sewell, C.E."  (Two buoyant pillows were connected, "as to be easily slipped on under the arms, and firmly secured.")

The Civil War demanded much of Sewell's talents.  On April 7, 1863, the Harbor Defense Commission met to discuss means of protecting New York Harbor.  The New York Times reported, "Mr. William Sewell submitted a communication and charts explaining a plan for blockading the harbor against the entrance of a hostile fleet."

Before the end of the war, Sewell retired.  He died in the Lexington Avenue house at the age of 55 on May 12, 1865.  His funeral was held in the parlor on May 15th.

Caroline Matilda Dunscomb Sewell (original source unknown)

Julia Elizabeth was married in Trinity Chapel to Adam Scott Cameron on June 2, 1874.  The couple moved into the Sewell residence.  They would have two sons, Walter Scott, born in 1875, and Aubrey Sewell, born in 1877.

Adam Cameron was in the "pumps" business.  Also moving into the house around this time was John L. Cameron, a relative, who listed his profession as "treasurer."  Walter D. Sewell became a physician around 1877.

On October 15, 1877, one month before Aubrey Sewell Cameron was born, Adam Scott Cameron died at the age of 37.  His funeral was not held in the house, as might have been expected, but at Trinity Chapel, where he and Julia had been married just three years earlier.

Caroline and Julia would appear in the society columns for years.  On January 8, 1881, for instance, The Daily Graphic announced, "Mrs. Sewall [sic] and Mrs. Cameron, of No. 320 Lexington avenue, leave shortly for Aiken," and on March 25, 1888, The World reported, "Mrs. Cameron, No. 320 Lexington avenue, gave a luncheon on Tuesday morning."

In July 1888, Caroline hired the architectural firm of D. & J. Jardine to enlarge the house with a one-story rear extension.  

Julia Elizabeth Sewell Cameron.  (original source unknown)

The women's entertaining was vividly described by The New York Times on March 17, 1892, which wrote:

The luncheon table around which Mrs. Cameron of 320 Lexington Avenue had twelve guests yesterday at 1 o'clock was a "dream in pink and lavender."  A great mound of Catharine Mermet roses and lilacs from the greenhouses of Siebrecht & Wadley occupied the centre of the table, and at each lady's right was an imported basket of the most delicate china with raised hand-painted forget-me-nots and roses upon them.  To these were tied bunches of Catharine Mermet roses with pink ribbons.

Dr. William Dunscomb Sewell still lived with his mother and sister.  He operated his private practice from the house, most likely in the basement level.

Caroline Matilda Sewell died of pneumonia on December 4, 1896 at the age of 72.  Julia inherited the Lexington Avenue house.  At the turn of the century, she leased it to William Watson Shippen, Jr. and his wife, the former Alice Gerald Wood.  

Born in 1858, Shippen was secretary-treasurer of the Hackensack Water Company, an engineer of the Lackawanna Railroad, and a director of the First National Bank of Hoboken.  He and Alice were married in 1886 and had a son, Edward, who was born the next year.

Living with the couple were William's unmarried sisters, Ettie, Georgia, Sofie Morton, and Caroline.  Like the women in the house before them, they routinely appeared in the society columns.  On January 18, 1902, for instance, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. W. W. Shippen and the Misses Shippen, 320 Lexington Avenue, received yesterday."

In the summer of 1907, the Shippens embarked on a thorough housecleaning.  On June 6, the "big wagon of the Vacuum Cleaning Company" arrived and parked in front of the house.  The Evening World explained,

The cleanser on wheels had been standing in front of No. 320 Lexington avenue, while its apparatus, carried into the house by means of air pipes and operated by the electric plant in the wagon, was furbishing walls and floor coverings.

When the cleaners were done, the wagon, "which runs by its own power," according to The Evening World, made a U-turn on the avenue to leave.  "At that instant a [street] car came rushing down the hill," said the article.  It struck the wagon "with terrific force."  The three-man crew of the cleaning company was severely injured, and two of them later died.

The Shippen family remained here until March 1916, when Julie Cameron leased it to James Geraghty.  By then, the stretch of Lexington Avenue had changed from an upscale residential neighborhood to one of shops, apartments and commercial buildings.  At the end of World War I, the former Sewell house was operated as rented rooms.

Living here in 1934 was 23-year-old waiter Charles E. Folsom, the son of a Boston newspaper editor.  On January 15 that year, he pleaded guilty for the murder of Abraham Borsun.  Folsom and another striking union worker, George Johnson, shot Borsun during labor tensions.  According to Folsom, they only intended to frighten Borsun by shooting at him.  Instead, they killed him.  The Ossining, New York Citizen Sentinel reported, "Folsom faces a sentence of from 20 years to life imprisonment at Sing Sing."

A renovation completed in 1939 resulted in apartments and furnished rooms throughout the building.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to the former English basement level.

The original entrance was converted to French windows.  A "Rooms to Let" sign hangs above the doorway.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Living here in 1982 was Kuno Laren, the chairman of the board of the Sentry Armored Car Courier Company.  In June that year, he and two other officials stole $100,000 from a $500,000 revolving fund the firm maintained for one of its customers.   A month before Laren and his co-workers were arrested on January 12, 1983 for the crime, one of the company's armored cars was robbed of $11 million.  In arresting the trio, District Attorney Mario M. Merolo said they "could not be ruled out or excluded as suspects" in the December theft.

The building was remodeled again in 1988.  In the renovation, the Italianate frame was removed from the former doorway.  Despite the loss, the removal of the stoop and a restaurant in the basement level, the Sewell house retains much of its domestic appearance.

many thanks to reader Ted Leather for suggesting this post

The Nippon Club (Iglesia Adventista) -- 161 West 93rd Street

 

photograph by Jim Henderson

On May 14, 1905, The New York Times reported, “Leading Japanese residents of New York yesterday organized the Nippon Club, which will occupy a handsome house at 44 West Eighty-fifth Street, now a private residence.”  The newspaper noted that the Nippon Club would be the only large organization of its kind outside Japan.  “The membership will include Japanese bankers and merchants, those represented in the professions and the Government service.”  The club was founded by Japanese chemist Jōkichi Takamine.  (His development of the enzyme taka diastase, which breaks down starch, had garnered him a fortune of $30 million, according to the Japan Times decades later.)

After having leased the West 85th Street house for six years, on November 18, 1911, the Record & Guide reported that the Nippon Club had purchased the houses at 161 through 165 West 93rd Street, noting, "A 3-story clubhouse will be erected from designs by John V. Van Pelt."  Instead of demolishing the structures, however, on March 1, 1912, The Sun reported that Van Pelt had "filed plans for extensive alterations to the three three story dwellings," adding, "The entire interior will be remodelled [sic] and the facade rebuilt."

The interior, after the removal of all party walls, will have a large public dining room on the main floor, with a Sukiyaki room on the third floor and several large reception rooms.  All of these rooms are to be finished in cedar wood, being carved and designed in the Japanese style.  The three buildings will be converted into one structure, with the main entrance in the middle.

The renovations cost the club $30,000, or about $972,000 in 2025 terms.  Van Pelt blended the Chicago School and Arts & Crafts styles.  Interestingly, his plans included faience (glazed ceramic tiles) "under and over each window."  Instead, the final geometric designs were all done in two-toned brick.  Stealing Van Pelt's architectural show was the projecting cornice, described by Edison Monthly in 1915 as "the only discoverable hint of Asia."  Indeed, according to The Sun, "The roof will be of the peaked style covered with corrugated terra cotta tile, thereby giving the building its pagoda appearance."

image by frog17 via wikimapia.org

The Nippon Club moved into its new home in September 1912.  The Japan Society Bulletin said it, "boasts all American fittings from billiard room to office, in addition to several floors furnished in Japanese style, where the tired business men feel again the spell of home in far Nippon."  As the bulletin suggested, the motif was expectedly Japanese with fusuma, or sliding screen doors, and Japanese-style furnishings including teakwood tables, bronze statues, and hand-made Japanese lanterns.  There were a ballroom, billiards room, library, dining room, smoking room, and parlors.  

Obviously, not all of the furnishings were Japanese in style.  postcard image courtesy of Lynne Miller

Items brought from the former clubhouse, according to The Sun, were "paintings on silk and velvet, fine specimens of the pillar print or kakemono-ye, a lot of tableware, including sets of beautiful, fragile Imari and lacquered tables and dishes."  The article noted, "The thing that the club places most value upon, for patriotic reasons, is a scroll from the Mikado presented to the club by Admiral Count Togo, last and most distinguished of Japanese visitors."

The club was fashioned after exclusive New York gentlemen's clubs, and The Sun remarked on January 21, 1912, "The first thing that will strike the curious inquirer is the astonishing resemblance the club bears to American clubs of the best type."  One notable difference, however, was the tradition that members honored upon arriving.  "But the Japanese member is not so likely to insist upon its ranking as upon the great comfort if affords.  To the Nippon he may go at evening after the day's work is done and slip on his night gown and rest," said The Sun.  The article explained:

Not our kind of night gown, but a ukata [sic], which is a loosely, hanging kimono of light weight material that drops straight from the shoulders and is girt about the waist by a thin cord.  The ukata [sic] is cool and comfortable.

The club routinely hosted dignitaries and countrymen.  On the evening of February 24, 1915, the Nippon Club held a dinner for visiting officers of the Japanese Navy.  Among the members present were the Consulate General of Japan, T. Nakamura; and several Japanese-born bankers.  Not invited was a young man, Yataro Tanaka, who "wanted to pay his respects to the officers," according to The Sun.  In attempting to do so, he upset the traditional decorum within the club.  According to the club's manager, A. H. Ohnishi, at 10:30, "He rushed into our parlor, where was thirty-one full dressed guests, and spoiled all their happiness."  

Tanaka was ousted, but two hours later he returned.  He broke into the front door, creating chaos amid the dignified event.  In the West Side Court, A. H. Ohnishi complained that he, "broke our front door and got into our club house.  He threatened our men by the violation at so late last night and there was no reason with him to do such things."  Tanaka was fined $5 for disorderly conduct.

postcard image courtesy of Lynne Miller

Consul General Nakamura and other members hosted a dinner on November 30 that year in honor of Baron Ei-ichi Shibusawa.  He was described by The Sun as the "foremost business man of Japan" and "to whom more than to any other his nation owes her commercial and industrial transformation, hater of jingoes, friend of peace and of America."  Shibusawa spoke on the ongoing war in Europe, congratulating America "on being the only world power that is not in the great war."  Ironically, given the events that would unfold nearly three decades later, he predicted that Japan and America "will be able to do much in preventing the recurrence of such disastrous calamities to humanity in the future."

The Nippon Club continued to host eminent visitors.  In September 1917, Viscount Ishii "and the other members of the Imperial Japanese Commission" were guests here; on the evening of July 23, 1918, a dinner was held in honor of Prince Yoshihisa Tokugawa; and on November 17 that year, the club hosted a dinner for visiting retired Japanese Army Colonel H. H. Hirayama.

On July 23, 1922, The New York Times reported that Jōkichi Takamine had died, saying he "founded the Nippon Club" and was "widely known for his work for friendly relations between Japan and United States."  Takamine's body was brought to the Nippon Club for a memorial service on July 24.  The New York Times reported that his casket, upon which were crossed Japanese and United States flags, was "surrounded by more than three hundred floral pieces from prominent Japanese and American friends."  The following morning, Takamine's body was taken to St. Patrick's Cathedral for his funeral.

postcard image courtesy of Lynne Miller

Prince and Princess Tokugawa visited New York in 1931.  On April 13, The New York Times reported, "The Nippon Club at 161 West Ninety-third Street, composed of leading members of the Japanese colony here, was eager to have the royal couple visit their clubhouse, and the Prince and Princess found time to do it."  

Three years later, the Prince was back.  On February 27, 1934, The New York Times announced, "Prince Iyesato Tokugawa last night extended greetings to his countrymen in New York at a dinner held in the Nippon Club...The speeches were in Japanese."

On February 11, 1940, a celebration of the 2,600th anniversary of the founding of the Japanese Empire was held here.  The New York Times said that 250 members made "solemn pledges of fealty to Emperor Hirohito."  Consul General Kaname Wakasugi conducted the event.  "Later they rejoiced over buffet tables laden with native delicacies, sang folk songs and toasted the world's oldest dynasty in sake, a rice wine."

A Japanese flag hangs above the entrance awning.  postcard image courtesy by Lynne Miller

Later that year, the clubhouse became involved in at least one Nazi espionage incident.  Born in Germany, William Sebold  became a naturalized U.S. citizen in 1936 and worked in aircraft and industrial plants.  Three years later, he was approached by the Gestapo who persuaded him to cooperate with the Reich.  In the meantime, Everett Minster Roeder was a draftsman who designed materials for the U.S. Army and Navy.  Sebold delivered German instructions to Roeder in various places throughout the city.  According to Norman Ridley in his Spying for Hitler: Nazis Who Infiltrated America, "At the end of October 1940, Sebold received instructions from Germany to send Roeder to a rendezvous at the Nippon Club at 161 West 93rd Street.  This would reveal yet another method that the Abwehr were employing to have stolen documents transported safely back to Germany."

On December 7, 1941, the Japanese launched a surprise attack on the United States fleet at Pearl Harbor.  American reaction was swift.  The next day, The New York Times published a photograph of the steward of the Nippon Club locking the doors under the watchful glare of a policeman.

The New York Times, December 8, 1941

The newspaper reported, "The Nippon Club at 161 West Ninety-third Street was closed by the police.  Twelve Japanese who were there when the police came were escorted to their homes.  Silent crowds watched their departure.  There were no demonstrations."

The clubhouse was seized by the Office of the Alien Property Custodian and it sat dark for more than two years.  On February 6, 1944, The New York Times reported that the Alien Property Custodian had sold the building to the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks.  The article noted that the lodge "would be occupied some time in April after alterations."

Two weeks later, on February 21, an auction of the contents of the Nippon Club was held.  Rampant anti-Japanese sentiments, however, greatly affected the bidding of the rare and valuable items, including eight ceremonial Japanese swords and the custom-made furniture.  A spokesman said, "nobody seemed to be very interested."

The prediction that the Elks would move into the clubhouse in April was optimistic.  It was not until December 16, 1944 that "the mother lodge of Elkdom" dedicated the building, as reported by The New York Times.  The structure and the renovations had cost the fraternal organization $75,000--about $1.3 million today.

Fourteen years later, the Elks sold the property to the American Theatre Wing.  Renovations resulted in rehearsal halls in the basement, first and second floors; offices and half of a duplex apartment on the third; and the top floor of the duplex on the fourth.

On September 15, 1958, Mayor Robert F. Wagner officiated at the dedication of the new headquarters.  According to its president, Helen Menkin, the new building would permit "our organization to carry out our expansion ideas more effectively."  It held full-time classes for 400 students with a faculty of 40 teachers.  Among the well-known names of the theater who attended the event were Ed Begley, Lawrence Lagner, Miriam Hopkins, and Mrs. Bert Lytell.

photograph by frog17 from wikimapia.org

The American Theatre Wing sold the property in 1968 to a Seventh-Day Adventist Church, Iglesia Adventista Broadway.  The congregation converted the lower floors for worship purposes with residential spaces on the upper floors.

many thanks to reader Lynne Miller who suggested this post

The Lost Robinson Houses - 750 and 752 Park Avenue

 

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

In reporting on the upcoming June wedding of Helen Rebecca Roosevelt and Theodore Douglas Robinson on April 24, 1904, The Sun hinted at the union's social importance.

The couple are cousins and are niece and nephew of President [Theodore] Roosevelt.  The bride-elect is a granddaughter of Mrs. Astor, who may hasten her return from Europe to be present on the occasion.  The Misses Alice Roosevelt and Caroline Drayton and the Misses Whitmore of England, cousins of the bridegroom, will be on the list of bridesmaids.

Helen was the daughter of James Roosevelt Roosevelt, Jr. and the former Helen Schermerhorn Astor.  Her father was the half-brother of the future President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  (Franklin was the son of James Roosevelt I with his first wife, Rebecca Howland, who died in 1876.)

Helen Rebecca Roosevelt Robinson. from the collection of the FDR Library

Born in 1883, Theodore Douglas Robinson was the son of Douglas Robinson, Jr. and Corinne Roosevelt (the sister of President Theodore Roosevelt and aunt of Eleanor Roosevelt).  His material grandparents were Theodore Roosevelt, Sr. and Martha Stewart Bulloch.  The grandparents on his father's side were Douglas Robinson, Sr. and Frances Monroe, a grandniece of President James Monroe.

Theodore Douglas Robinson later in life.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Two years after Theodore and Helen were married, on April 28, 1906, the New-York Tribune reported that plans had been filed for "two fine Park Avenue houses" at 750 and 752 Park Avenue "for Douglas Robinson and Mrs. Helen Roosevelt Robinson."  Designed by Trowbridge & Livingston, the article said, "They will be of Colonial design, the facades of granite at the first story and marble trimmed brick above.  The entrance will be flanked with tall lamps of ornamental metal."  The architects projected the construction costs at $50,000 and $65,000 respectively.  (Although visually mirror images, Theodore's and his wife's house would be slightly narrower than that of his parents.)

Trowbridge & Livingston's neo-Georgian design featured a rusticated base.  Above the double-doored entrances were scrolled keystones carved with a swag.  The upper floors were faced in red brick, their fenestration treated differently at each level.  Fully arched French windows at the second floor were fronted with iron faux balconies.  The marble lintels of the third floor windows were decorated with a centered carved shell, and splayed lintels crowned the fourth floor openings.  The fifth floor took the form of a slate-shingled mansard with stately dormers behind a stone balustrade.

It was common for well-to-do couples to place the title of real property--especially their town and country houses--in the wives' names.  And while Helen was the title holder of 750 Park Avenue, it appears that it was a gift from her father-in-law.  The New York Times explained the "the two fine houses of similar design...were erected by Douglas Robinson, one for himself and the other for his son, Theodore Douglas Robinson." 

On February 15, 1907, as construction neared completion, The Augusta [Kansas] Daily Gazette reported that the two families "have developed an idea which is entirely original."  Should they have a common entertainment, a wall of the piano nobile, or second floor, could be opened.  "By the manipulation of a wall in the shape of wainscoting, reinforced with steel and made fireproof, the two houses will be made one," said the article.

After what was reportedly weeks of planning, Livingston & Trowbridge devised (or more likely, contracted) an apparatus by which, "the massive wall can be moved silently, and, with the application of power supplied by a single pair of hands."  The Gazette explained, "When the wall, which is on the second floor, is sent on its ballbearing attachment two spacious drawing-rooms will be thrown into one."

The Augusta Daily Gazette, February 15, 1907 (copyright expired)

The feature would soon be utilized.  "When the twin houses are entirely completed a reception will be given in the form of a housewarming for the friends of Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, and the movable wall will receive a practical test," reported the article.

Shortly after moving into their respective houses, the Douglas Robinsons had a change of mind.  In September 1908, they sold 752 Park Avenue to publisher Robert Joseph Collier and his wife, the former Sara Stewart Van Alen.  The combined Robinson families, at least temporarily, shared No. 750.  On October 19, 1909, the New-York Tribune reported that the marriage of Corinne Douglas Robinson and State Senator Joseph Alsop on November 4, would be held, "in the new home of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Douglas Robinson, No. 750 Park avenue."

In the meantime, the Colliers moved into 752 Park Avenue.  Born in 1876, Robert Joseph Collier was a partner in the publishing firm founded by his father, P. F. Collier & Son.  The company's most visible publication was the popular Collier's Weekly.  He married Sara Stewart Van Alen in Newport in 1902.  On April 22, 1903, the couple had a son, Robert, Jr.  He died two days afterward.  The Sun remarked nearly two decades later, "They never fully recovered from the loss, their friends say."

This photograph of Robert J. Collier was taken in 1906, two years before he and Sara moved into the Park Avenue house.  The World's Work, 1906 (copyright expired)

The next door neighbors were closely related.  Helen Roosevelt Robinson and Sara Stewart Van Alen were first cousins.  Sara's mother was Emily Astor, the eldest daughter of William Backhouse Astor, Jr. and Caroline Webster Schermerhorn.  Helen's mother, Helen Schermerhorn Astor, was the Astors' second eldest daughter.

Sara Stewart Van Alen Collier.  Harper's Weekly 1902 (copyright expired)

In the spring of 1908, when the Colliers were still living on Gramercy Park, their house was burglarized.  The New York Times said they "were among the many victims of what was known as the 'chloroform gang.'"  According to the newspaper, the incident "unnerved" Sara and prompted the couple to move to Park Avenue.

On October 1, 1908 decorators were "doing up the house both inside and out," according to The New York Times.  Sara was home, but Robert was on a business trip in the West.  During all the confusion, a thief entered the house around noon and stole two rings valued at $30 from a maid's room on the top floor.  The newspaper said, "They have their suspicions as to the thief, and hope to make an arrest shortly."

The Colliers had two celebrated house guests in 1909.  On January 3, Samuel Langhorn Clemens wrote to Margaret Blackmer, saying in part, "Miss Lyon [i.e., Isabel Lyon, his secretary] & I are going to arrive at Robert Collier (752 Park Avenue) at noon the 20th of this month & remain there the 21 & 22nd & perhaps till the 3.32 [train] the afternoon of the 23d."

Two months later, on March 13, the New-York Tribune reported, "Mr. [Theodore] Roosevelt will be the principal guest at an informal breakfast given by Robert J. Collier at his home, No. 752 Park avenue, this morning.  About thirty men will be present."  (Presumably the former President stopped by the house of his niece and nephew next door, as well.)

Theodore Douglas Robinson was elected to the New York State Assembly in 1911.  Throughout his term, which ended on December 31, 1913, he and Helen lived in Albany and leased 750 Park Avenue to well-heeled families.  In 1911, they rented it to Willard D. Straight and his wife, the former Dorothy Whitney.  They were followed by George S. Brewster and his wife; and finally by William Douglas Sloane and his wife, the former Emily Thorn Vanderbilt.

Peter Fenelon Collier died in 1909 and Robert became head of P. F. Collier & Son.  He and Sara maintained a country estate, Rest Hill, in New Jersey, and a "camp" at Racquet Lake, New York in the Adirondack Mountains.  The couple was at their camp in August 1914 when Robert suffered "an acute attack of uraemic poisoning," according to The Sun.  He was brought back to 752 Park Avenue unconscious in his private train car, Vagabondia.  Days later, on August 28, the newspaper said, "The efforts of several physicians have failed to rouse Robert J. Collier, the publisher, out of the coma into which he lapsed several days ago."

Collier survived the frightening ordeal.  On February 15, 1918, the New York Herald reported that the couple had sold 752 Park Avenue to William Hartman Woodin and his wife, the former Anne Jessup.  The article said, "Mr. Woodin paid close to $300,000 for the realty and furnishings."  The price would translate to about $6 million in 2025.

An 1890 graduate of Columbia University, Woodin was president of the American Car and Foundry Co., and a director of a score of corporations, including General Motors Corporation, Westinghouse Electric International Company and railroads and shipping firms.  He and Anne had four children: William, Jr., Mary Miner, Anne Harvey, and Elizabeth F.

On the afternoon of June 25, 1919, Theodore Douglas Robinson was approaching his doorway when he was attacked by three gunmen.  The Evening World called it a "bold attempt at a hold-up with a revolver in the best resident quarter of New York on a street where many people were moving and less than half a block away from two police officers."  Seventeen-year-old Harold Vogel thrust a revolver against Robinson's body and threatened to shoot him if he did not hand over his money and jewelry.

Passersby rushed to Police Lieutenants Frank Brady and Patrick McCarthy.  The three would-be robbers separated and Edward Henebry and Arthur Plum, 18 and 23 years old respectively, were captured running away.  Vogel cleverly turned back and tried to meld into the growing crowd.  Lt. Brady, however, was not fooled.  The Evening World reported that he "was attracted by a young man who was breathing heavily as if from the stress of running."  Brady pressed his hand over the youth's chest "and found it throbbing."  He discovered a revolver in his pocket.  Brady took him to Robinson, who identified his attacker.

The Woodins' children were growing up at the time.  In December 1919, the couple announced the engagement of Anne Jessup Woodin to Olin Frisbie Harvey.  The couple was married the following year on November 6 and the reception was held in the Park Avenue mansion.  The following month, Elizabeth F. Woodin was introduced to society in the Rose Room of the Plaza Hotel.

Elizabeth's engagement to William Wallace Rowe was announced in April 1922, and her brother, William Hartman Woodin, was married to Carolyne Hyde on December 9 that year.  In reporting on William's wedding, the New York Herald mentioned, "During the war, Mr. Woodin was in the aviation service."  (Three months earlier, William Sr. had been named the State Fuel Administrator.)

In 1924, Theodore Douglas Robinson was appointed Assistant Secretary of the Navy by President Calvin Coolidge.  (The position had previously been held by his cousin, Theodore Roosevelt III.)  Three years later, he and Helen sold 750 Park Avenue to James T. Lee, a real estate operator and the owner of the Hotel Shelton.  If Lee intended the house to be his family's home, he soon had other ideas.

Living in the mansion next door at the corner of 71st Street were George Stephenson Brewster and his wife, the former Eleanor Grant Bosher.  (They were the couple who rented 750 Park Avenue from the Robinsons in 1912).  Lee convinced the Brewsters to give up their home in favor of an upscale apartment building on the site.  On March 14, 1929, The New York Times reported that Lee had purchased 752 Park Avenue from William H. Woodin.  By then, he had also purchased a fourth property adjoining the Brewster mansion on 71st Street.

Lee replaced the properties with 740 Park Avenue, designed by Rosario Candela.  (Interestingly, when the 17-story apartment building by Horace Ginsberg & Associates was erected at the northern part of the block in 1951, it usurped the former address of Theodore and Helen Robinson's home, 750 Park Avenue.)