The Enigmatic 359 Sixth Avenue

 

photo by Jason Kessler

In 1832, Henry Bayard erected a Federal-style, brick faced style house at 55 Sixth Avenue (renumbered 359 in 1925), just south of Barrow Street.  (That spur of Barrow would be renamed West Washington Place the following year.)  Bayard offered it for sale in 1833, describing it as, "the two story Brick House, with slate roof."  It either did not sell or the buyer defaulted and on January 8, 1834 it was sold at auction.  The announcement gives us a detailed description:

The substantial and convenient modern built 2 story brick house and lot, no, 55 Sixth Avenue, one door below Barrow St.— The house is nearly new, covered with slate, and has accommodations for a large family.  In the rear of, and adjoining the house, there is a 2 story brick building, forming convenient apartments opening from each story; besides a subcellar under the principal building, and a spacious and airy kitchen.  There are 11 rooms, six of which are furnished with grates.

(The term "grates" was interchangeable with "fireplaces" at the time.)  The house became home to the Thomas Hardy family.  A merchant, he would not remain here especially long.  An advertisement in The Evening Post on January 16, 1839 offered the house for sale, "in excellent order."  It was purchased by Peter A. Hegeman, who had been living next door at 53 Sixth Avenue for several years.

The family nearly lost their home on June 1, 1848.  The Evening Post reported, "The roof of the dwelling of Peter A. Hegaman [sic], No. 55 Sixth Avenue, took fire about 1 o'clock yesterday, from a spark from an adjoining chimney, which was burning.  Damage about $50."

By 1860, Martha Covert, the widow of Daniel H. Covert, ran a boarding house here.  The few tenants were white collar, like William E. Blakeney, a dentist; and milliner William J. Demarest, who lived here in 1858 and 1859.

Around 1863, the ground floor was converted to a commercial space.  It may have been at this time that the attic was raised to a full floor and pressed metal lintels were installed over the windows.  A handsome Italianate cornice with scrolled brackets completed the make-over.  The removal of the stoop and lowering the first floor to ground level cut the windows of the former parlor level in half.  The remainders were bricked in, resulting in what has been described as a "half-story" above the storefront.

The shop became home to Frederick J. Lindeman's toy store.  It was replaced in 1867 by the Jeitles Brothers "segar" shop, run by Arnold and James Jeitles.

An advertisement appeared in the New York Herald on April 1, 1869, that read, "$700--Partner wanted in a money making business.  $5,000 can be made yearly and no risk.  Inquire of Mr. Smith, 55 Sixth avenue, in the store."  The required investment would translate to more than $16,000 in 2024.  But "Mr. Smith" may well have been a scammer.  The ad appeared in September, signed "Mr. Felton," and again in November, signed "Mr. Wilson."

Mr. Smith, alias Mr. Felton, alias Mr. Wilson, was almost assuredly William H. Brandon, who had taken over the cigar store from Jeitles Brothers.  The Evening Telegram said he was "better known as handsome Billy Brandon, who has figured so often in the police courts of the city that his career is pretty well known to the public."  The newspaper added, "So admirably are his plans concocted that he has never once been convicted."

But Brandon's luck changed in the fall of 1870.  The Evening Telegram described his place of operation, saying, "No. 55 is a cigar store with a sample room back of it."  Late in October, Louis Aguero, a cigarmaker who lived on Bleecker Street, made a sales call.  "Brandon told Aguero that he would take $200 worth of the cigars, and directed him to bring them round," reported The Evening Telegram.  He returned on November 1 and had just laid the goods on the counter when two men barged in brandishing firearms.  The gunmen identified themselves as United States marshals and took Brandon and Aguero into custody.  One took the pair away while the other took charge of the supposedly contraband cigars.

On the way to the stationhouse, the marshal took his captives into a saloon, where Brandon offered him a $30 bribe to be let off.  The marshal accepted and demanded the same amount from Aguero.  "This the Spaniard refused, saying that he wanted to be arrested, in order that he might learn what all this was about," said the article.  He insisted that his cigars had the requisite government stamp and there was no reason for his arrest.  

With that, Brandon and the fake marshal fled.  Aguero saw the "marshal" board a Sixth Avenue streetcar.  He returned to 55 Sixth Avenue, where Brandon told him the other marshal had taken the cigars--worth just under $5,000 today--as evidence.  Aguero's next stop was the office of attorney Abraham Webb.  On November 3, The Evening Telegram reported, "A summons was issued for Brandon, and the case will come for examination at Jefferson Market, when it is to be hoped that Brandon will meet with his just deserts."  The cigar shop was soon taken over by Louis Xigues.

In 1872, the furnishings of the upper floors were auctioned and, it appears, the storefront renovated.  On March 29, 1873, an ad appeared in the New York Herald offering, "To Let or Lease--Three story brick building, with new store and cellar, 55 Sixth avenue, for some respectable business; terms reasonable."  The building was valued at the time by real estate appraiser Nelson S. Flock at $18,000 (about $473,000 today).

The ground floor became home to an "eatinghouse" run by William F. Smallwood and John W. Hill.  The two lived nearby on Sullivan and Thompson Streets, respectively.  Living above the restaurant in 1876 were James H. Mathews, an undertaker, and his wife Caroline.  She ran a laundry in the basement of the building.  The couple would remain at least through 1880.  Also living here that year was Cornelius A. Chrisstoffels, a cigar merchant; machinist Charles Baker; and Michael Doyle, who was a janitor.

 

In 1883, the ground floor of 55 Sixth Avenue was home to A. Freudenhammer's grocery store.  Described by the New York Herald as "a stout, good natured German," he complained to the reporter about scam artists who preyed on small businessmen.  On November 14, 1883, the newspaper quoted him saying, 

I have been in business here three years and I handle everything in the grocery line.  My trade is mostly with poor people and small boarding houses.  Oh, those boarding house people!  What trouble and loss they cause small storekeepers.  I have lost a good deal of money through them.  One landlady skipped off owing me $200.  Another disappeared leaving an unpaid bill of $100.  They play their little game very well, for they move into a neighborhood, run up bills, and then in a few months suddenly cross to New Jersey, where they are out of reach of their grocer, baker and butcher.

 

Freudenhammer was gone by 1893, when the shop was home to George H. Rozelle's butcher shop, the Sixth Avenue Meat Market.  In the meantime, residents came and went upstairs.  Among the most colorful, perhaps, was Elizabeth Bourke, who lived here in 1909.

On June 20, 1909, Mrs. Bourke read a notice in a newspaper that read, "Healthy blonde boy; can't keep; for adoption.  Call afternoons 414 West 19th St."  She answered the ad, telling Alma Williams, who was a widow, that she was "a woman of means, and that her husband was in the West," according to The New York Times, which added, "She told Mrs. Williams she lived at 223 West Seventh-fourth Street."  Elizabeth Bourke took a liking to Charles Williams, described by the newspaper as "a bright, curly headed youngster."  The two women agreed that Mrs. Bourke would adopt him, and Elizabeth promised to bring him around to see his mother every Wednesday.

Later, Alma Williams went to the West 74th Street address and discovered there was no one there named Bourke.  She notified police and a search was begun for Elizabeth Bourke and the kidnapped boy.  A few days later, Detective John McSherry saw a woman matching Elizabeth's description and a curly headed boy walking along Charles Street.  He followed them to the St. Agnes Nursery, where the woman dropped off the boy and left.

The nursery's matron told the detective that the boy's name was Charles Bourke, although she added, "The lady who left him sometimes called the boy, Mary."  She gave him Elizabeth's true address on Sixth Avenue, where she was arrested for kidnapping.

In the Jefferson Market Court, Elizabeth explained she gave the fictitious address to prevent the mother from bothering her.  She still intended to bring the boy around to his mother weekly.  And she also disclosed, "I had a little girl, Mary, who died.  The boy reminds me of her.  I put her clothing on him and at times called him Mary."  The magistrate ruled there was no intention of wrongdoing and the case was dismissed.  The New York Times reported, "Both women left court smiling, and the boy, it was said, would remain with Mrs. Bourke."

In 1919, two college students, Jack Kriendler and Charlie Berns, opened a "cup joint" called the Red Head at 359 Sixth Avenue.  The term referred to a speakeasy in which liquor was served in coffee cups.  Because the renumbering of Sixth Avenue six years later changed 55 Sixth Avenue's address to 359 Sixth Avenue, legend persists that this building was the original home to the speakeasy that would later become the 21 Club.

The ground floor was home to Emma's Rotisserie in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The ground floor of 359 Sixth Avenue would be a restaurant for the rest of the century.  At mid-century it was Ernesta's, described by Eleanor Early in the 1950 New York Holiday as "a humble place where I have had good food."  It as replaced by Bravissimo.  The 1962 The Mademoiselle Career Girl's Guide to New York described, "Italian specialties, as you might guess, but also Spanish, Indian and international dishes at this crowded, casual Greenwich Village hangout."

A long-term tenant arrived in 1965 when Ida and Ed McLaughlin and Frank Campbell opened McBell's Irish Pub.  Shortly after its opening, on June 17 The Villager columnist Elizabeth Byrd said, "First of all, and very important to me, the restaurant is not self-consciously Irish.  There is no malarkey and there is dignity."  McBell's would become a Village destination, surviving over three decades.

In 2011 Tertulia, a Spanish restaurant, opened.  It was supplanted by a Nikkei restaurant, Llama San in 2019.  

photo by Jason Kessler

In the meantime, the story of a speakeasy in the building was not entirely without foundation.  Long-time Greenwich Village resident Jason Kessler recently told me, "Years ago, you’d go up a flight, and then another short flight.  There was a speakeasy there.  Bookshelf-lined warrens with comfy sofas where you could get credible martinis.  It didn’t last long; I suppose it couldn’t have."

many thanks to Jason Kessler for suggesting this post

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