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 one 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 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

The Ideal Hosiery Building - 339 Grand Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

John Jacob Astor I amassed $250,000 in the fur trade by 1800 (nearly $6.5 million in 2026).  He turned to real estate and by the late 182os was erecting scores of Federal style dwellings.  Among them were five three-and-a-half-story houses on Grand Street at the southwest corner of Ludlow Street, completed around 1830.

Like the others, the corner building, 339 Grand Street, was clad in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  The peaked attic was punctured by a single, centered dormer.  A store occupied the ground floor.

James Nelson and his family occupied the house in 1830.  An umbrella maker, he operated his shop here, as well.  In 1837, Mrs. M. D. Hodge, who recently arrived from London, moved in.  On November 17 that year, the Morning Herald said "the beautiful Mrs. Hodge" created "the most elegant Chenille hats in New York."  The article continued:

This lady's store is sought for by all fashionable families in want of such an article.  Mrs. H. is attentive, polite, pretty, and excellent in her business.

Articles continuously mentioned Mrs. Hodge's appearance.  In reporting on her "splendid Victoria Gipsey Hats" on April 4, 1838, the Morning Herald noted, "I am told that both Mrs. H. and her hats are uncommonly beautiful."  The quality of her headwear was certified that year when the American Institute awarded her a "diploma" (an ornate printed award) for "a fine specimen of chenille hats, made without a stitch."

It does not appear that Mrs. Hodge lived above her store.  The Gordon family occupied the upper floors as early as 1840.  Harriet Gordon died here on January 31, 1841 at the age of 40 "after a very long illness," according to the New York Morning Courier.  Her funeral was held in the house the following morning.

Astor continued to have a relatively quick turnover in commercial tenants.  In 1841, Arthur H. Sherman ran his stationery store here.  On December 9, the New-York Tribune reported, "A boy named James Murphy was arrested to-day and committed for stealing a pack of blank cards worth 25 cents from Arthur H. Sherman, No. 339 Grand-street."  And as early as 1847, James Cunningham's stove business occupied the store.  A long-term tenant moved in around 1850.  Jeremiah L. Sackett installed his drygoods business in the store and moved his family into the upper floors.  

By 1854, Jeremiah L. Sackett moved his family to University Place, but he continued to operate his drygoods store here.  In 1855, title to 339 Grand Street was transferred to Astor's granddaughter, Cecilia Langdon de Nottbeck.  By then, a three-story structure had been erected in the rear yard at 57 Ludlow Street.  

Replacing the Sacketts in the upper floors was the Crosson family, while the family of William H. Anderson, a joiner, lived in the upper floors of 57 Ludlow by 1855.  (A joiner was a skilled carpenter.)

Another funeral was held in the Grand Street house in 1855.  Robert N. Crosson died on January 27 at the age of 24.

When 57 Ludlow was erected, a wrought iron fence protected the areaway in front of the basement.  The Anderson family still occupied the upper floors on August 8, 1857 when William Jr., who was six years old, fell from a second floor window.  The New-York Tribune reported that he suffered, "a severe flesh wound on the back part of the head, about three inches in length and half an inches in depth."  The New York Times added, "his left leg was dreadfully lacerated by being caught in one of the iron spikes of the railing in front of the house."

William E. Vanhorn and his family lived in 57 Ludlow Street as early as 1864.  It was a highly convenient location, since he worked as a clerk in Jeremiah L. Sackett's store around the corner.  The Vanhorns would remain here until 1872, when Sackett closed his store after more than two decades.

The store became home to Joseph Freund & Co., dealers of beddings and feathers.  Run by Jacob, Lazarus and Moses Freund (presumably the sons of Joseph Freund), they had two other stores--one at 365 Eighth Avenue and the other at 359 East Houston.  None of the brothers lived in the Grand Street or Ludlow Street buildings.

Joseph Freund & Co. diversified into "linengoods" in 1886.  Their business and the building were threatened by fire on September 2, 1893.  The New York Herald reported, "Fire caused a panic at half-past seven o'clock last evening in the fancy dry goods store of Saul Brothers, at 335 Grand street, and that of their immediate neighbor, C. Wagner, at No. 337."  The article said that Grand Street was packed with "Saturday night shoppers" when suddenly, "purchasers and employes [sic] ran screaming out of the place.  One of the girls fainted and was carried into a nearby store."

By the time firefighters arrived, both buildings were ablaze and "the flames were shooting up through the roof and had caught on the corner of No. 339 Grand street, the ground floor of which is occupied by J. Freund & Co., linen importers."  Although 335 and 337 were devastated, firefighters arrived in time to save 339 Grand Street from serious damage.

The Evening World, May 21, 1902 (copyright expired)

After being in business here for three decades, Freund & Co. closed in 1902.  It was replaced by George and Max Weiner's millinery shop.  The shop would remain until October 14, 1919.

In the Depression years, a children's apparel shop occupied the store.  The storefront was remodeled and an arcade entrance installed.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

On August 10, 1950, The New York Times reported that Edward W. de Nottbeck had sold 339 Grand Street to the 339 Grand Street Corp.  It ended the Astor family's 120-year ownership of the property.  The Ideal Hosiery company leased the building and placed a vibrant red metal sign over the shop.  The firm purchased the building in 1965.

The Ideal Hosiery sign was still vibrant in 1995.  The upper floors were being used as storage.  (original source unknown.)

Like Jeremiah L. Sackett and Joseph Freund & Co., Ideal Hosiery remained here for decades.  On August 21, 2018, The New York Times reported that Ideal Hosiery had placed the building on the market for $7.2 million.

photograph by Carole Teller

The faded metal signage still clings to the facade of 339 Grand Street.  The venerable structure was designated an individual New York City landmark in 2013.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post.

The 1890 Julius and Henrietta Steinfelder House - 1215 Park Avenue

 

On June 29, 1889 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that architects Flemer & Koehler had filed plans for eight stone-fronted homes on Park Avenue, wrapping around the northeast corner of 94th Street.  The project would cost developer Edward T. Smith $112,000 to erect; or about $492,500 per house in 2026 terms.

Almost immediately, J. A. Henry Flemer and his partner, V. Hugo Koehler, would be at work filling the northern half of the block.  Completed in 1890, their blend of historical styles seamlessly melded with the earlier homes.  Flemer & Koehler reached deep into their grab bag of styles in designing No. 1215, just south of East 95th Street.

The basement and parlor floors were faced in undressed brownstone, typical of the Romanesque Revival style.  And yet, the carved panels of the stoop newels and those under the windows and above the entrance drew inspiration from the Italian Renaissance.  The brick pilasters with terra cotta Corinthian capitals that flanked the second floor windows, too, were Renaissance Revival in style, but the pretty foliate terra cotta bandcourse above them was Queen Anne.  The fully-arched openings of the third floor, with their molded, terra cotta lintels and prominent keystones, harkened to the earlier Italianate style.  The architects' judicious choices created a handsome hybrid.

The two-story rounded bay provided a sleeping porch to the third floor.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

On May 8, 1883, the New York Herald reported that realtor Julius Friend had sold "the three-story and basement dwelling, No. 1,215 Park avenue, 20 x 69, to Samuel Steinfelder."  (It was certainly not a coincidence that Julius Friend and his family, who were close friends with the Steinfelders, lived around the corner at 135 East 95th Street.)

Samuel Steinfelder was a "wealthy silk and ribbon importer," as described by The World.  His wife, Henrietta, was a former school teacher, described as "a fine-looking woman of middle age."  The couple had five daughters, Rita J., Rosalie H., Ruth A., Hattie E., and Maude S.  The newspaper added, "The family are wealthy, well connected and move in the highest Hebrew social circles in the city."

It was not long after the family moved in that tensions--and eventually a rift--grew between the Steinfelders and the Friends.  Hattie Steinfelder "seemed to take a fancy to young Mrs. [Carrie Kohn] Friend," explained The Sun on March 24, 1894, "and she spent much of her time at the Friends' house."  According to Carrie Friend, Hattie would confide about "her troubles at home."  Henrietta Steinfelder thought that her private family politics was none of Carrie's business.  The World explained at the same time, "According to Mrs. Steinfelder she became tired of having her maternal authority interfered with by an outsider and the result was a quarrel between the two ladies in September, since which time they have not spoken."

Henrietta Steinfelder and Carrie Friend may have stopped speaking to one another, but Hattie continued her close friendship.  On March 15, 1894, Hattie and her mother had "a spat," as described by Henrietta.  Hattie rushed out and around the corner to the Friends' house to vent her problems.  At around 10:00 that night, Julius Friend walked her home.  Samuel Steinfelder was waiting at the door, fuming.

"Steinfelder got excited and said things to Friend," reported The Sun.  Among those "things" was the accusation that Friend was engaging in "lover tricks on the street" with Hattie.  The next day Hattie, "departed from her home at 1,215 Park avenue...without leaving word where she might be found."  Not surprisingly, she sought refuge with the Friends.

In the meantime, Julius Friend reported Steinfelder's slanderous comment to police.  The former chums faced one another in a courtroom on March 20.  "Justice Welde dismissed the case and told Friend that he had no right to keep the girl away from her family."  Julius Friend went straight home and told Hattie "he could harbor her no longer."  That was the last anyone saw of the 18-year-old.  At least for a while.

On March 24, The World began an article saying

A self-willed, high-tempered girl, a jealous and exasperated mother, an irate father and a scornful neighbor's wife, with a husband nursing his wounded pride, are the actors in this domestic, serio-comic squabble that has disrupted the social relations between the Steinfelder and Friend families.

Hattie, said the article was, "bright, intelligent, well educated, attractive, but possessed of an all-powerful desire to have her own way in everything."  Four days later, Hattie's hideout was revealed.  She had sought refuge in the home of her aunt, a Mrs. Hahn, at 230 East 49th Street.  Reading of the tempest in the newspapers, Mrs. Hahn sent a message to the Steinfelders.  On March 24, 1894, The Sun reported, "Her aunt will send her home to-day, whether she wants to go or not."

Like other well-to-do New Yorkers, the Steinfelders spent time away from the city during the summer months.  On July 19, 1898, for instance, the Oswego, New York The Daily Record reported:

Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Steinfelder and daughters Misses Rita and Rosalie, of 1,215 Park avenue, New York, are at the Ahwaga House, guests of George and Adolph Newman for a few days.  They are to depart to Sheldrake on Cayuga lake for a stay before returning to their home.

(It is, perhaps, notable that Hattie was not mentioned.)

In 1902, Samuel Steinfelder was appointed to the School Board and by the following year, Rosalie was teaching at Public School 171 on East 103rd Street.

On the night of November 12, 1911, Henrietta walked into a drugstore at 375 Lenox Avenue.  She suddenly collapsed on the floor, stricken with a stroke.  The 63-year-old died before help could arrive.

The following year, on November 5, 1912, The New York Times reported that Steinfelder had sold 1215 Park Avenue.  His realtor, Douglas L. Elliman, was coy about the sale, saying "The buyer is an investor."  In fact, the buyer was Douglas L. Elliman.

Interestingly, the now-retired Steinfelder continued to live in the house, apparently renting it from Elliman.  He died here four months later, on March 25, 1913, at the age of 67.

Elliman next leased the house to Marcus and Maria Neustaedter.  Born in 1871 in Galicia, Austria, Neustaedter arrived in New York City in 1888 and graduated from Bellevue Hospital Medical College in 1896.  Ten years later he earned his Ph.D. from New York University.  When the family moved in, Neustaedter was teaching neurology at Bellevue Hospital Medical College.  He and Maria had four children, Shadoin, Hannah, Theodore Maier, and Leonard.  

Dr. Neustaedter's expertise was called upon in 1921 when a Russian boy was slated to be deported as "an imbecile."  Having survived the Russian pograms, Moische Shulman's father, a musician, escaped Russia with his eldest son in 1913.  Seven years later, the rest of the family (including Moische) left the World War I-ravaged country.  The New York Times reported that on September 21, 1920, "Mrs. Shulman, after much difficulty, came here with four children."  

But now, a year later, the Special Board of Inquiry of the Immigration Bureau singled out 10-year-old Moische as an imbecile and ordered him deported back to Russia.  The deportation would, of course, necessitate the breaking up of the Shulman family.  The New York Times reported, "If the boy is compelled to return to Russia, it was said that his mother would go with him."  At a hearing on August 27, 1921, Moische's father said that if the Immigration Bureau's stand was upheld, "he would appeal to the President."

Dr. Marcus Neustaedter took the stand in the boy's defense.  He said he was "neither feeble-minded nor an imbecile."  He pointed out that the "boy's studies in mathematics baffled his imagination" and that he had "mastered English and that one teacher had given him a rating of 100 per cent."  Neustaedter urged "it must be remembered that the boy and his mother had been in the war area of dark Russia."  He told the judge, "I think it would be a crime to separate this child from his parents, since he will be potentially a self-supporting member of the community."  The boy was allowed to remain.

The Neustaedter family remained at 1215 Park Avenue through 1923.  The following year, Elliman sold the house to Dr. Eugene Floyd Dubois and his wife, the former Rebeckah Rutter.  Dubois was born on Staten Island in 1882 and was educated at the Milton Academy, at Harvard College, and at the Columbia College of Physicians and Surgeons.  He and Rebeckah were married in 1910 and they had two sons, Eugene and Arthur, and a daughter, Rebeckah.

Dr. Eugene Floyd Dubois specialized "in the mechanisms and diseases of the metabolism," according to the International Rasmus Mailing-Hansen Society.  image from the society's collection

When the family moved in, Dubois was associate professor of the Cornell University Medical College and medical director of the Russell Sage Institute of Pathology.  He was, as well, a director of the Medical Division of Bellevue Hospital.

In 1928, Park Avenue was widened and it was most likely at this time that the stoop was removed from 1215 Park Avenue and the entrance lowered below grade.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Rebeckah was educated in the exclusive Chapin School, the Milton Academy and Vassar College.  On December 4, 1937, The New York Sun reported, "Dr. and Mrs. Eugene Floyd DuBois of 1215 Park avenue, have a reception today at the Colony Club to introduce their daughter, Miss Rebeckah DuBois, to society."  At the time, her brother, Eugene, was working in the editorial office of the Brooklyn Eagle newspaper.

When America entered World War II, all three of the Dubois men joined the Navy Reserves.  Dr. Dubois earned the rank of captain in the Medical Corps, Eugene rose to the rank of lieutenant, and Arthur was a midshipman.  

On April 4, 1944, The New York Times reported that Lt. Eugene Dubois, USNR, was married to Carol Johnston Mali, "in a setting of white spring flowers" in the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church.  Eugene F. Dubois was his son's best man.  The wartime ceremony had a decidedly military atmosphere.  Along with Arthur, the other ushers wore their Army, Naval, and Air Force uniforms.

Eugene and Rebeckah announced the engagement of their daughter to James Robinson Glazebrook on August 22, 1952.  The New York Times noted, "She is a research assistant at Cornell University Medical College."

The family sold 1215 Park Avenue in June 1956 to Max Greenberg.  He initiated a renovation the following year that resulted in apartments.  Today there are five units in the building.  

photographs by the author

The 1909 Esperanto - 229 West 105th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1908 developer Lorenz Weiher acquired the five lots at 227 through 235 West 105th Street between Amsterdam Avenue and Broadway.  He commissioned the architectural firm of Moore & Landsiedel to design a "six story brick and stone tenement" on the site, as described in the firm's plans.  (The term "tenement" at the time referred to any multi-family residential building.)  Construction, which was completed the following year, cost Weiher $125,000, or about $4.45 million in 2026.

Moore & Landsiedel drew from Colonial precedents, embellishing the Roman brick clad upper facade with dramatically splayed lintels and scrolled keystones, and prominent stone quoins that emphasized verticality in the extremely wide structure.  The architects also broke up the horizontal plane by placing the entrance to the east and balancing its heavy stone enframement with a duplicate to the west--the latter embracing two windows.  The four-story midsection sat between intermediate cornices and the top floor was capped with a bracketed and corbelled cornice.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

An advertisement for the Esperanto in August 15, 1909 described "5 or 6 rooms and bath."  Because financially comfortable New Yorkers fled the city in the summer months, the ad noted, "Concessions for summer."  The advertised rents ranged from $660 to $840 per year--the equivalent of $1,950 to $2,500 per month today.

Apartment Houses of the Metropolis, 1909  (copyright expired)

The residents were affluent enough to have domestic help.  Hulda Maske, described by The New York Times as "a servant girl," worked for and lived with a family here.  On her night off on October 18, 1909, she went with three men and two women in an automobile to the Bronx.  Early in the morning, the car struck a telegraph pole on Jerome Avenue.  The Times said, "The women fainted, and all the party were bruised and cut, but apparently none was hurt enough to go to the hospital."

After being treated by an ambulance crew, Hulda and her friends went back to Manhattan "by trolley."  The next day, Hulda complained that her head began to ache.  She was taken to Harlem Hospital where she was diagnosed with a skull fracture.

Apartment Houses of the Metropolis, 1909 (copyright expired)

Among the early residents were Reverend Thomas W. Martin and his wife.  Born in 1837, Martin was ordained by Bishop Henry C. Potter in 1863.  For years he had been rector of Trinity Church in Hewlett, Long Island.  

Walter Bertrand Walker and his wife, the former Mary Creecy Lawton, moved into the Esperanto following their wedding in The Plaza on February 14, 1911.  An attorney, Walker was a 1903 graduate of Yale College and a partner with classmate George Leonard.  The young lawyer was, somewhat surprisingly, a trustee of the American College for Girls in Constantinople, Turkey.  His bride was graduated from Ely School in 1906.  

Baron Paul von Eglinitzki lived here following his divorce from the former Helen Nicholson in July 1915.  The couple was married on June 1, 1907 and their only child, Katharine, was born in 1909.

Von Eglinitzki was born in Germany in 1876.  The New York Times said that his ancestors "could be traced back to the fourteenth century" and that he "was for six years in the German Army, two years in the Thirteenth Huzzars and four in the first guard Field Artillery, of which the Kaiser was the Colonel."

Now living in the Esperanto, he was a stockbroker with Charles R. Flint & Co. with offices in the Park Row Building.  The New York Herald noted, "the Bureau of Investigation of the Department of Justice also had its offices" in the building.  The bureau suspected that the baron was more than a stockbroker.  

On March 14, 1919, The New York Times ran the headline, "Baron Paul von Zglinitzki [sic] and Others Sent to Fort Oglethorpe," and reported, "He was arrested yesterday after having been watched by Government secret agents for a year."  The New York Herald explained that he was suspected "of having negotiated for the shipment of munitions in Mexico."  

The baron and the other six German nationals were sent to the Government internment camp at Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia.  But because the Armistice had been signed on November 11, 1918, Von Zglinitzki would likely not be held there very long.  The New York Herald said that prisoners who "escaped arrest until so near the end of the war" would most likely be released from internment camps and deported "when peace is ratified." 

A widower, John H. Conway lived here at the time.  Born in 1843, he was a Civil War veteran and the last surviving crew member of the Monitor, which famously fought the Merrimac off Hampton Roads.  An ardent Democrat, he was formerly president of the Horatio Seymour Democratic Club and was treasurer of Tammany Hall in the 1870s.  He was appointed Deputy Tax Commissioner in 1893.  Conway still held that position on August 1, 1919 when he died in his apartment at the age of 76.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

George H. Whaley, president of the dye-making firm John Campbell & Co., lived here with his wife until his romantic eye roamed.  He became infatuated with his stenographer, May M. Croke.  In 1919 he gave her money to take a three-week vacation and while she was gone, he induced his wife to divorce him so he could marry May.  (Whaley moved to the Hotel Breslin and his wife remained in the Esperanto apartment.)  When May returned from her vacation, Whaley gave her a $2,200 diamond engagement ring and the title to a house at 301 West 88th Street.

But problems soon arose.  George Whaley "employed detectives to shadow her."  They discovered, in part, that May had used some of the money Whaley gave her for her vacation on Monte F. Jacobs "and was with him part of the time," according to The Times.  The embittered George Whaley "instructed the detectives to give [Effie Elizabeth Jacobs] the evidence they had."  Jacobs's wife then sued May Croke on September 22, 1920 for $100,000 damages, "charging alienation of the affections of her husband."  George Whaley now had neither wife nor girlfriend, and a significant dent in his bank account.

Two residents were victims of audacious thievery in 1924.  The first took place in the apartment of Bernie Woods where a wedding was held on June 22.  Among the guests was 15-year-old Anna Treloar, presumably accompanied by her parents.  Anna left the ceremony early, according to police.  Later, expensive wedding gifts were discovered missing--a platinum watch, an onyx ring and silver cuff links.  On August 10, Anna was arrested and at the time she was wearing the platinum watch.  "The girl was held for the Children's Society, reported The New York Times.

The following month, on September 15, Detectives Cronin and Barrett thought that 21-year-old Loretta Floyd was acting "suspiciously" as she came out of the building with a suitcase.  Loretta was a maid in the apartment of Irving Finkelstein and his wife.  When they had her open the suitcase, they discovered, "valuable silk dresses, lingerie and other wearing apparel," reported The Evening Mail.  Loretta was charged with grand larceny.

The building continued to house middle-class professionals, like dentist Ernesto Calvo, here as early as 1928; and John G. Broady, an attorney with the firm Chadbourne, Stanchfield & Levy in 1930.

Abraham Adolph Rozen and his wife, Eva, came to America in 1941 and moved into 229 West 105th Street.  Abraham had been a leader among Polish Jews in Paris before leaving Europe.  Now he was a partner in a textile exporting concern.  The couple was still living in the building when Rozen suffered a fatal heart attack at the age of 63 on March 10, 1954.

Elizabeth Horvath West lived here with her married daughter, Joyce Kaiden, and Joyce's five-month-old son in September 1960.  (The whereabouts of Joyce's husband is unclear.)  Elizabeth, who was 38, was estranged from her husband.  The Daily News described her as a "120-pound brunette-dyed-blonde."  On the night of September 6, she and three men, including 32-year-old Robert Hannigan, were seen at a rear table in the Castilian Room on East 75th Street.  

Elizabeth Horvath West, Daily News, September 8, 1960

Robert Hannigan was a bartender and convicted gambler.  He had been negotiating with the owner to buy the Castilian Room for about six months.  The Daily News said that Elizabeth was apparently meeting with him "to discuss the possibility of becoming hatcheck girl there in the fall."

The last of the club's employees left around 4:20 a.m.  A refuse collector entered at 5:50 and discovered the bodies of Elizabeth West and Robert Hannigan.  The Daily News said, "The killer shot Mrs. West three times, once in the abdomen, once in the neck and once in the head, the last slug penetrating the brain."  Hannigan's body was on the floor under a pay phone.  A dime on the carpet suggested he had tried to make a call when he was ambushed.

It appeared that Elizabeth was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Hannigan was "in the hole," according to the club's owner, "for $2,000 in business debts and a $7,000 mortgage."  Police thought that the money was the motive.  Elizabeth was murdered because she could have identified the killers.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The 1960s saw at least two activists in the building.  On October 2, 1961, Joseph Brandt was called to Washington to testify before the House Committee on Un-American Activities.  Brandt was a member of the National Assembly for Democratic Rights.  The Long Island Star-Journal reported that he "invoked the Fifth Amendment 60 times in refusing to answer questions."  And on May 18, 1968, 21-year-old Steven Goldfield was arrested with two other Columbia University students when they refused to leave a building on 114th Street while other students protested outside.

In 1970, The Besma Women's Association was founded here.  On May 27, 1972, the New York Amsterdam News reported on the group's upcoming annual Debutante Cotillion in the Grand Ballroom of the Statler Hilton.  The organization's headquarters is still in the building today.

The nine-over-one windows survive in some apartments.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The name Esperanto was dropped decades ago.  But the apartments still contain five and six rooms and the exterior is essentially unchanged.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for prompting this post