The Lost Union Dime Savings Bank - Sixth Avenue and Broadway

 

Real Estate Record & Guide Supplement, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

Founded in 1859, the Union Dime Savings Institute started out in unassuming offices at Canal and Varick Streets.  Eight years later, it moved to larger quarters at Canal and Laight Street.  Then, in October 1874, despite the country's being mired in the crippling Financial Panic of 1873, the trustees laid bold plans--to move the bank northward to the trapezoidal plot facing the small park that would be named Greeley Square in 1892.

Thirty-six-year-old Stephen Decatur Hatch was given the commission to design the new building.  The architect had designed the elaborate, Second Empire style Gilsey House Hotel three blocks to the south on Broadway in 1868.  He turned to the popular style again for the Union Dime Savings Bank building.

On September 30, 1876, The New York Times reported on the progress of construction, saying the "large and commodious building at the junction of Broadway, Sixth-ave., and Thirty-second-st...when completed, will be an ornament to the upper part of the city."  The article predicted the cost of construction to be $250,000, and said the figure would have been much higher had the economic conditions not drastically cut labor costs.  The Sun chimed in, saying the cost of the land was $275,000, "making the total outlay $525,000."  That figure would translate to about $15.4 million in 2024.

Five floors tall above a basement level, the building was clad in Westchester marble.  "There are also seventeen large pillars of polished Nova-Scotia stone placed on the three sides of the building, which lend a grace and beauty to the whole exterior," said the article.  A three-story, six-sided clock tower wore crown-like, cast iron cresting.  Upon its completion, The Sun described the Union Dime Savings Bank building on January 22, 1877 as "by far the finest structure of the kind in the city."

Nine months after opening in its new home, rumors began circulating that the bank's costly marble palace had overstretched its resources.  On October 24, 1877, the New York Herald said, "The story that the new building was 'too heavy to carry' was repeated with certain additions."  The rumors turned to panic and the New York Herald headlined the article, "Panic-Stricken Depositors Make a 'Run' on a Savings Bank."  The article said that long before opening, "a large crowd of anxious depositors had congregated in the vicinity of the bank and lined the sidewalk opposite, skirting the little garden park at the junction of Sixth avenue and Broadway at Thirty-second street."  Police had to be called in to control the near-riot.

The Sixth Avenue Elevated had opened by 1889 when this photo was taken.  King's Handbook of New York City (copyright expired)

The following day, the New York Herald ran a one-line article, saying, "The run on the Union Dime Savings Bank showed no signed of abatement, and will probably be renewed this morning, notwithstanding the confident assurances of its officers."  Eventually, reason ruled and on November 30 the newspaper concluded an article saying, "The Union Dime's directors are in a pretty safe condition, but there is no margin for wild investment."

Just under three decades after opening its doors, on August 7, 1906 The New York Times reported that the Union Dime Savings Bank had sold the property for $1 million (equal to nearly $35 million today).  The trustees had purchased a plot at 40th Street and Sixth Avenue as its new home.  The article said, "The bank will continued to occupy its property at Broadway and Thirty-second Street until May, 1908."

The majestic structure was worthy of its own stereoscope slide.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

In fact, the bank did not move out until February 1910 when its new structure was completed.  In the meantime, the property had been resold.  On February 27, 1910, The New York Times reported, "The new English owners will not take title to the old Union Dime building until May 1.  Rumors that the edifice was to be torn down were set at rest yesterday when a representative of the company stated that it was not the intention of the owners to make any improvement for five years at least."

The majestic marble structure survived until 1928.  On November 4, The New York Times published an article on the flurry of construction going on in the district.  It said in part that a project that "will probably not be long delayed, will be the demolition of the old Union Dime Savings Bank Building."  The article commented, "This has long been one of the interesting landmarks of the city."

The article had predicted correctly.  The Union Dime Savings Bank Building was demolished to be replaced by a seven-story, Art Deco commercial building designed by Starrett & Van Vleck which survives.

photo by acronson

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The William Henry Knapp House - 65 Bedford Street

 

In the mid-1830s, a row of nearly identical brick-faced homes was erected on the west side of Bedford Street between Morton and Commerce Streets.  Each two-and-a-half stories tall, their Federal design included prim dormers at the attic level.  No. 65 was sold to Justus Earle around 1835.  Sitting above a brownstone basement, its entrance was especially handsome, with narrow sidelights and paneled pilasters flanking the door under an ample transom.  Earle apparently purchased the house as an investment property.  He and his family lived at 46 Cortlandt Street and rented 65 Bedford Street.

By the early 1850s, William Henry Knapp and his family lived here, taking in boarders.  Knapp was a tailor whose shop was at 823 Broadway.  In 1855, George W. Backus, who owned a livery stable; and Joseph A. Starr and his family lived with the Knapps.  Starr was a butcher whose shop was on Warren Street near the North (or Hudson) River.  The tight quarters within the house were suggested by Starr's advertisement in the New York Herald two years later.

Board Wanted--For a gentleman, his wife, one child and sister-in-law, in a private family; west side of the city, below Bleecker street, preferred; will furnish their own rooms; partial board for the gentleman.  Address, stating terms and location, J. A. Starr, 65 Bedford street, New York.

Starr's mentioning that his family would supply their own furnishings is rather surprising.

William Knapp and his wife had at least one son, Charles Henry, who was attending a public school in 1858.  The family remained here through 1860, after which Charles W. Lord moved in.  

An educator, Lord taught in the boys' department of School No. 38 on Clarke Street near Broome.  He lived at 65 Bedford Street for nearly a decade.  Then, in 1869, after the Knapps left, the residence became a middle-class boarding house.  Among the residents in 1870 and 1871 were Stephen B. Smith, a policeman, and Willard Badger.  

The residents were no doubt thrown into panic when Willard Badger was diagnosed with small pox in 1871.  He was removed to the Small Pox Hospital on Blackwell's Island where he died in February 1872.  That spring he posthumously became involved in an investigation by The New York Times into "the abuses said to exist at the Small Pox Hospital."  An investigative reporter interviewed a number of persons who had business with the institution.  The journalist reported on April 18, 1872, "Much of the scandalous chicanery here exposed is due to the existence of an undertaker's 'ring,' which covers the institutions on Blackwell's Island."  

The reporter interviewed A. J. Case, who had removed Badger's body to Evergreen Cemetery on February 19, 1872.  He said that he was compelled "to pay $5 as fees to the Island and Morgue men," before the coffin was released.  (The fee would translate to about $125 in 2024.)

Most likely restricted by the size of the house, the proprietors never took in more than three boarders at a time.  In 1876 they were William H. Hanlon, a carpenter; casemaker Franklin Hebbard (casemakers constructed packing crates); and Daniel Putney, a broker whose office was at 4 Hanover Square.

Around 1879, Thomas Hulbert purchased 65 Bedford Street.  Hulbert was a "currier," or hide tanner, and he and his wife, Susanna, continued to take in one or two boarders at a time.  (Daniel Putney continued living there through 1880.)

On a cold night in 1883, the Hulberts' boarder William Roberts had a narrow escape.  He was coming home about 11:00 on January 16 when "near his home," according to The Sun, he "was accosted by a man who begged for the price of a night's lodging."  Roberts took out his purse to give him money, at which point the man grabbed the purse.  "Roberts resisted," said the article, "whereupon his assailant shot him in the left leg, and then ran away with the purse."  Roberts was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital where he was treated.  He lost his purse containing the equivalent of $141.00 today.

Johanna C. Muller lived here in 1899.  The widow, who was 89 years old, fell down the staircase on June 25 that year, receiving a "concussion of the brain."  Her injuries were too much for the aged woman, and she died six days later.

Dr. Gertrude N. Light occupied 65 Bedford Street in the early years of the new century.  She was a member of the Women's University Club.  At a time when women in the medical profession--other than nurses--were still relatively rare, Dr. Light was appointed a sanitary inspector by the city in December 1902.  Sanitary inspectors, for the most part, visited tenements and reported on infectious diseases and unhealthful conditions.  She was listed at 65 Bedford Street at least through 1904.

At the time, Greenwich Village was the epicenter of Manhattan's artistic community.  Following World War I, scores of vintage houses were altered to accommodate artists' studios, with vast windows that captured natural light.  In 1925, engineer Guy W. Culgin was hired to renovate 65 Bedford Street.  The attic was raised to a full floor with a wall of glass that flooded the interior with light.

There were now two "non-housekeeping" apartments in the basement (meaning they had no kitchens), one apartment on the parlor floor, and two each on the second and third.  An advertisement offered:

Comfortable apartments, remodeled, strictly first class; steam heat, all conveniences; 1 room, tiled bath, closet, $50; 2 rooms, bath, housekeeping, $75 up; ideal for business people or couples.

The parlor floor apartment was, understandably, the most expensive.  In 1925 it was advertised as "large apartment, whole floor, about 5 rooms, including small kitchen, $125."  The rent would translate to $2,175 per month today.

Among the initial residents were newlyweds Francis Richard Borroum Godolphin and his bride Isabelle Simmons.  The couple was married on July 25, 1925 and on October 14 The Princeton Alumni Weekly announced they "are now living at 65 Bedford St., New York City, where Frisco is again teaching Latin and Greek at N.Y.U., studying for his Ph.D. at the same time."

Francis Richard Borroum Godolphin, from the coll3ection of the Rutgers School of Arts & Sciences.

Born in Del Rio, Texas on April 8, 1903, "Frisco" Godolphin graduated magna cum laude from Princeton in 1924.  Two years after moving into the Bedford Street house, he and Isabelle relocated to New Jersey where he joined the Princeton staff.  He would go on to become dean and professor of classics there, and the author of numerous academic works, including the 1942 The Greek Historians and The Latin Poets, published in 1949.

Another erudite resident was Irma Vanderbeck, who lived here in 1927.  A member of the National Pan-Hellenic Congress, she was the editor of  The Dial, a magazine that promoted modernist literature. 

Author, political staffer and journalist Billy Lee Brammer moved into an apartment here in January 1960.  In her 2018 Leaving the Gay Place, Billy Lee Brammer and the Great Society, Tracy Daughtery noted that shortly after moving in, he wrote to his future wife, Nadine Ellen Cannon, "The Village is pleasant and not exactly the wicked and reckless place it is advertised to be."

Billy Lee Brammer in 1966, photo by Bob Simmons.

Born in Dallas, Texas in 1929, he would later serve on the staff of Senator Lyndon Baines Johnson.  His novel The Gay Place was published in 1961.

A renovation completed in 1987 resulted in "class A" apartments (meaning they required leases).  In 2011 the house was remodeling to a two-family home.

photograph by the author

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The Benjamin G. Disbrow House - 123 West 130th Street

 

In January 1885, the architectural firm of Cleverdon & Putzel filed plans for four neo-Grec style houses at 117-123 West 130th Street for developer Samuel O. Wright.  The Record & Guide mentioned that three of the "brown stone houses" would be 19-feet wide, while one would be a foot narrower.  

No. 123 West 130th Street, like its identical siblings, featured impressive architrave window frames with prominent sills and cornices.  The double-doored entrance sat within an engaged portico with Tuscan columns that upheld an imposing entablature decorated with carved designs.  

Benjamin G. and Sarah M. Disbrow purchased 123 West 130th Street on May 1, 1890.  The couple had four adult sons, Griffin B., George A., Dr. Robert N., and Charles A.  Benjamin would not enjoy his home for long, dying on March 19, 1892.

Disbrow's death created a contentious rift in the family.  On October 16, 1892, The New York Sun headlined an article, "Mr. Disbrow Left Two Wills."  One will was executed on February 7, 1891 and the other on January 18, 1892.  The first left Sarah "the income of certain property for life," and gave Griffin "$1,500 and some furniture in the family residence."  He and George (who received the upright piano) were given the bulk of the estate.  Their brothers, Charles and Robert, each received $4,500 (about $155,000 in 2024).  The will explained, "I have not given more of my property to my two sons, Charles and Robert, on account of their undutiful conduct to my wife and to me."

A month before their father's death, Charles and Robert had apparently made amends and he had written the second will.  Now Griffin and George faced off in court against their brothers and their wives.  They contested the second will, alleging "undue influence" of their brothers "while Mr. Disbrow was in feeble health and of unsound mind."  Robert and Charles simultaneously contested the first will.

Within a month, things got more complicated (and heated).  On November 16, The Evening World reported that two more wills had been discovered.  "The Disbrow family was apparently full of discord, and Benjamin made four wills during the last year of his life," said the article, which predicted, "a fight over the disposition of his property...bids fair to continue many months."

The property that was to provide Sarah income for life was a rental building at 108th Street and Lexington Avenue.  And that, too, resulted in family drama.  Griffin managed the property for his mother.  Five years after her husband's death, Sarah sued to have Griffin removed as trustee.  Her lawyer said he "employed himself as agent to collect the rents and has paid himself for such services."  In addition, Griffin told his mother that repairs to the building "ate up all the profits," according to The World on November 14, 1897.  

Griffin and Sarah would face off once again three years later.  On November 8, 1900, The New York Times reported, "A somewhat remarkable controversy between a mother and her son recently received final decision in the Court of Appeals."   On April 27, 1892, a month after Benjamin Disbrow's death, Sarah transferred title to 123 West 130th Street to Griffin "in consideration of love and affection and the sum of one dollar."  Then, in 1897 she sued to reverse the transfer.  The judge at the time ruled, "Mrs. Disbrow was unquestionably misled as to the nature and effect of the instrument."

Griffin appealed.  On November 7, 1900, the court ruled that although, "she was an inexperienced woman, and she leaned upon her son Griffin," there was no evidence that he had exerted undue influence.  The judges, reported The New York Times, "were constrained" to return ownership of the house to Griffin.

Sarah M. Disbrow moved to the Brooklyn home of her son, Robert.  She died there on May 23, 1912 at the age of 82.

Former Tammany Hall leader and Supreme Court Justice Peter Aloysius Hendrick and his wife, the former Julia Sherwood, lived at 123 West 130th Street at least through 1907.  Born in Penn Yan, New York in 1858, Hendrick came to New York in 1887 and "for a time [was] personal counsel to Charles F. Murphy," the Tammany boss.  He was appointed to State Supreme Court in 1906 earning the equivalent of $612,000 per year in today's money.

The Hendricks were followed in the house by William J. Farrell.  He was president of the William J. Farrell Company, described by The New York Times as "one of the largest dealers in dressed poultry, butter, and eggs in the city."  

Farrell, who was unmarried, was at Fort Covington, New York on June 18, 1919, when he suffered a "stroke of apoplexy," according to The New York Times.  (The term referred to what today is known as a stroke.)  The article said, "Specialists from New York were rushed to his bedside, but they could do nothing for him."

The house was inherited by Annie M. Farrell and Mary Ellen Higgins, presumably his sisters.  They sold it in April 1921 to Samuel and Florette Graham.  Samuel died nine months later, on January 20, 1922.

In 1941, the stoop railings and newels survived.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1941 the house was converted to unofficial apartments.  Among the initial residents were Alice and Samuel Simmons.  Samuel left to fight in World War II, and on February 23, 1946, The New York Age reported that Alice, "has been informed that her husband, Samuel has been promoted to the grade of corporal.  He is serving as a dispatcher with the 810th Engineer Aviation Battalion near Manila."

By the turn of the 21st century, the once-proud house was operated as a single-room-occupancy building.  Then, a renovation completed in 2004 resulted in a three-family residence.

photograph by the author

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The Gustavus and Carrie Maas House - 130 East 72nd Street

 

In March 1881, developer John Graham & Sons commissioned prolific architect John G. Prague to design four upscale homes on the south side of East 72nd Street between Lexington and Park Avenues.  Prague was taking a step away from his familiar turf.  He is best remembered today for the hundreds of homes he designed on Manhattan's West Side. 

Each of the 20-foot wide, four-story homes cost $20,000 to construct (about $615,000 in 2024).  Atop the high stoops were prominent porticos supported by square, paneled columns.   The fascia panels between the scrolled brackets of the cornices were elaborately carved.

In March 1883, John Graham sold 130 East 72nd Street to Charles Stern and his wife, the former Amelia Metzler.  Born in Germany in 1831, Stern came to New York as a young man and opened a wine business.  By now he was one of the largest wine importers in the country.  He and Amelia had four children, Alfred, Louise, Emily and Josephine.

In 1896, the Sterns moved to Los Angeles, California.  They sold 130 East 72nd Street to Gustave Maas for $30,500 on April 29.  (The price would translate to about $1.14 million today.)  Maas was born in Frankfurt, Germany in May 1850.  He had married Caroline (known as Carrie) Heimerdinger in Vienna Hall on Lexington Avenue and 54th Street on November 27, 1884.  Shortly after moving in, Gustave transferred title to the property to Carrie.

The couple had three daughters, Manuela F., who was eight years old in 1896; and twins Edith Helen and Catherine, who were five.  Also living in the house was Gustave's widowed mother, Rachel Regina Ochs Maas.  (In 1899, another daughter, Agnes C. would arrive.)

Gustave and Carrie immediately hired architect Hugo Koehler to make improvements to the house.  His plans, filed in June 1896, called for new plumbing and increasing the height of the rear extension by one story.  The extensive renovations cost the owners the equivalent of $374,000 today.

Rachel Regina Maas died on February 12, 1900 at the age of 79.  Her funeral was held in the drawing room three days later.

Like many well-to-do New Yorkers, the Maas family had made the switch from carriages to motorcars by 1907.  That year, on March 31, their chauffeur, Eugene Bugnet, was "caught by Policeman Cunningham at 136th Street and St. Nicholas Avenue," according to The New York Times.  Bugnet was arrested for speeding the touring car at 18 miles per hour.

On August 20, 1911, the New York Herald reported on Manuela's engagement to Edward Necarsulmer.  The article noted, "Mr. and Mrs. Maas have a villa in West End, and their home in New York is at No. 130 East Seventy-second street."  (West End was an upscale community of Long Branch, New Jersey.)  A graduate of the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, Manuela's fiancé was an architect.  Among his works was the Hebrew Infant Asylum of New York.  The couple was married on November 20.

Having an architect in the family had its advantages.  On July 25, 1913, Necarsulmer filed plans for a massive renovation to the Maas house.  Inside, an elevator was installed.  Outside, John G. Prague's Victorian design was transformed into a modern, American basement dwelling.  

Taking a page from the book of Frederick Junius Stern, well-known for remodeling outdated brownstones to up-to-date, often fanciful residences, Necarsulmer removed the stoop and lowered the entrance to street level.  As Stern often did, he slathered the façade with stucco and gave the openings jagged brick surrounds.  At the second floor he installed charming leaded and stained-glass windows, and gave the third floor a romantic hooded oriel with faux balconies.

The original appearance of 130 East 72nd Street can be seen in the as-yet unaltered house to the right in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Maas family remained here until March 1922, when they sold the house to attorney Mortimer Henry Hess and his wife, the former Marion Newman.  The couple had one son, Mortimer, Jr.

Born in July, 1889, Hess was an expert in tax, estate and trust laws.  He earned his law degree from Columbia University in 1911 and began practicing law in 1913.  A co-founder of the law firm of Hess, Segall, Popkin & Guterman, he was, as well, the chairman of the law committee of Temple Emanu-El.

Like many other socialites, Marion Hess turned her focus from teas and receptions to public service during World War II.  Hers, however, was a bit surprising.

On December 7, 1943, The New York Sun began an article saying, "If there is a particle of waste fat floating around in any household in Greater New York Mrs. Mortimer H. Hess means to have it."  She had discovered that common cooking fats could be used to make glycerin, which went into the manufacturing of munitions.  The article said,

And so that no New York housewife can live in her ivory tower, remote from needs of the hour and forgetting that our fighting forces must have that used fat to keep them supplied with war materials, Mrs. Hess has enlisted a special committee which will pound home the message that every drop of fat is worth salvaging.

The Sun called Marion "a pretty unusual person."  Among the traits that set her apart, said the article, was her ability to keep the same live-in maid for 29 years.  

At the time of the article, the four 1882 houses still retained the restrictive covenants in the deeds that demanded they be used only as private dwellings.  A judge, on April 27, 1940, had ruled, "The court has considered the fact that this restriction might be removed by the consent of all four owners."

By the second half of the century, that consent had been reached.  In 1964, 130 East 72nd Street was converted to apartments.  A duplex in the basement and first floor shared part of the lower section with a doctor's office, and each upper story held one apartment.

Unfortunately, the once-contrasting brick has been painted the same white as the stucco, seriously detracting from Edward Necarsulmer's picturesque design.

photographs by the author

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George Keister's 1899 35-37 East 20th Street

 

John H. E. Whitney was born in New York City on July 30, 1840.  He became an expert engraver but in 1861, as noted decades later by The Printing Art, "the Civil War opening at this time, patriotism took the place of self-interest and we find instead of a wood engraver, a 'Hawkins Zouave.'"  Following the conflict, Whitney returned to New York and to engraving, becoming an expert in his craft.  Whitney lived in a high-stooped brownstone at 37 East 20th Street.  He died there on November 22, 1891.

At the time of his death, Whitney's once-refined residential block was seeing change as commerce inched northward into the neighborhood.  Six years later, in July 1897, the Knickerbocker Realty Improvement Company was formed for "the erection of business buildings which are to be constructed and operated by the company," as reported by Building & Architecture in New York.  Its first project was the demolition of the former Whitney house and its neighbor at 35 East 20th Street, and the erection of an eight-story loft-and-store building.

Only a month into the firm's existence, its architect George Keister filed plans.   Unlike many of the mercantile buildings at the time, which were faced in cast iron, the 50-foot wide structure would be clad in limestone and granite.  Prominent cornices marked the entrances that flanked the vast ground floor show window--one to the upper floors and one to the store.  The rusticated second floor was distinguished by a frieze of interlocking palmettes and a striking, classical caryatid between the show windows.  Bowed balconettes at the fourth floor almost assuredly had stone or iron railings, removed later to accommodate fire escapes.  Two-story arcades at the top section featured elaborate Corinthian capitals and foliate keystones.  A bracketed cornice completed the design.

A sedate caryatid looks out at 20th Street from the second floor.  The two blank spaces on either side of the classical urn in the panel directly below would have held the name of the ground floor store.

The building would have a wide variety of tenants.  As construction neared completion in October 1898, The Jay C. Wemple Company leased the store and basement "for a term of five years," according to The Sun.  The firm's residency would be far longer.

The Drapery Sketch Book, 1914 (copyright expired)

In 1901, E. Haertel & Co., "retailers of high-class fur garments and furs," as described by Cloaks and Furs in May that year, moved into its "handsome new showrooms" here.  Also in the building were H. Curtis, makers of The Curtis Hose Supporter; and the Brooklyn Chair Company.  The latter's factory was, as the name suggested, in Brooklyn.  Among the "high grade goods" offered in 1903 were "office chairs, dining chairs, bedroom chairs, Mission chairs, slipper chairs, and ladies' desk chairs," as well as "a line of good reed rockers."

This 1903 Curtis ad bordered on racy.  Beauty & Health, May 1903 (copyright expired)

Alonzo E. Wemple was secretary of the Jay C. Wemple Company.  He and his wife and two daughters lived in a handsome house at 180 West 59th Street.  The wealthy window shade manufacturer was a member of the Atlantic Yacht, the New York Athletic and Brooklyn Clubs.

At 4:45 on the afternoon of May 17, 1904, Wemple entered Shanley's restaurant at Broadway and 42nd Street.  The New York Sun reported that he "ordered a light luncheon.  He told the waiter that he felt ill and asked that a glass of water be brought to him as soon as possible."

The Evening World said, "The music was playing and about him everywhere was life as it is known on Broadway.”  The carefree atmosphere was about to darken.  The New York Sun reported, "After Mr. Wemple had drunk the water he collapsed in his chair."  A physician who was dining a few tables away ordered Wemple taken to an apartment upstairs.  He died there a short time later.

The wide variety of tenants continued.  Kate E. Tirney ran a purchasing agency in the building at the time of Wemple's unexpected death.  In January 1904 she began publishing Shop Talk, a monthly magazine "on feminine attire and the contents of the shops," according to the New-York Tribune on January 31.

The premier issue of Shop Talk.  (copyright expired)

Oriental carpet merchants and importers Sjun & Tehelram also operated from 35-37 East 20th Street at the time.  In 1904, Hadji Hassonoff, a Turkish-born Brooklynite, brought $250,000 worth of rare rugs into the country and dropped them off with the firm, presumably on consignment.  The value would translate to a staggering $8.9 million in 2024.

On April 1, 1905, Sjun & Tehelram went out of business.  Upon hearing the news, Hassonoff went to 35-37 East 20th Street two days later to retrieve his rugs.  The offices were locked and dark.  Then, two days later, he recognized Frederick Comp, the 40-year-old bookkeeper of Sjun & Tehelram, going into the office of carpet broker Charles H. Climper at 10 East 17th Street.  He followed him and discovered "two beautiful rugs set out for sale" in Climper's office, according to The New York Times.  The newspaper said, "he almost shouted for joy, and he lost no time in claiming them as his own."

Hassonoff found a police officer and returned.  He pointed to one, saying, "This one is 500 years old.  It is made by hand.  It is 16-1/2 feet long and 7 feet wide, and it is worth more than $10,000.  This smaller one is worth over $8,000."  As Policeman Tyndale took Frederick Comp into custody, Hassonoff grabbed him by the shoulders demanding, "Where are my other rugs, you?"

The cornice survived in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Comp pleaded that he had not seen his employers in days and that he had he been instructed to sell the two rugs on commission.  He and Climper were arrested for selling and receiving stolen property.  Whether Hassonoff ever regained his other valuable rugs is unclear.

Around 1906, hospital supply firms began taking space in the building.  The first was the Greenpoint Metallic Bed Company, whose Brooklyn factory manufactured "metal bedsteads and furniture; hospital supplies; operating tables; dressing, water and instrument sterilizers; metallic and glass cabinets."

It was soon joined in the building by the Watters Laboratories and the Hospital Supply Co. of New York.  Both firms manufactured medical instruments.  The latter advertised itself as "The largest manufacturers of Hospital Furniture Sterilizers."  

The Post-Graduate, April 1911 (copyright expired)

The building saw an influx of new tenants in 1915.  They included the Gutman Novelty Company; Simon Durlacher; Rosenberg & Rosenberg, makers of "novelties and muslin underwear;" Edwin Horrax, "notions and small wares;" and the Apartment House Decorative Co., which leased the fifth floor in April that year.

Jay C. Wemple died in 1917.  In its June issue that year, The Upholsterer and Interior Decorator announced that Charles Breneman & Co., had purchased "the business, including the good-will, trade-marks, etc." of Jay C. Wemple & Co.--the first tenant of 35-37 East 20th Street.  William T. Haywood, who had been president of Jay C. Wemple & Co., was apparently not offered a position by the new owner.  He opened a competing company in the same building.  The article noted he "has started in business for himself under the name of William T. Haywood, Inc., with general offices and salesrooms at 35-37 East Twentieth Street, New York."

Hand Book of the Upholstery and Allied Trades, 1921 (copyright expired)

The post-World War I years saw apparel manufacturers in the building.  These were not the run-of-the-mill clothing makers, however.  The Universal Dolls Outfitters leased the fourth floor in November 1919.  The following year, in June, it advertised for, "Experienced crocheters and knitters on infants' and doll's sacques, bootees, etc."  The successful applicants (who were required to submit samples of their skills) would work from home making doll clothes.

Similarly, Cupid Knitwear Co., Inc. created knitted outerwear for dolls.  The miniature sweaters and coats were sold to toy wholesalers.

Playthings magazine, June 1926 

All of the building's tenants would have to find new space in 1947.  On January 23 that year, The New York Times reported that the Expert Cloth Sponging Co., had purchased the building.  The article noted that the firm would occupy all eight floors.

As the neighborhood changed once again in the third quarter of the 20th century, Hadler Galleries occupied the former Jay C. Wemple & Co. space.  The New York Times reported on a one-man show of weaver Lewis Knauss's works on September 30, 1975, for instance.

The gallery's existence was indicative of changes to come.  A renovation completed in 1981 resulted in apartments above the ground floor.  It was possibly at this time that the cornice was removed.  Rather than leave a blank scar, as most owners did at the time, the architects fashioned a parapet.  It was a laudable, if wholly unsuccessful, attempt to disguise the architectural loss.

photographs by the author

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La Riviera Apartments - 230 West 99th Street

 

image via apartments.com

J. C. Burne acted as both architect and real estate developer when he planned an apartment building at the southeast corner of Broadway and 99^th Street just before the turn of the last century.  Above the two-story stone base, five stories of beige brick were trimmed in terra cotta.  His Renaissance Revival design included elaborate Italian style pediments over certain openings.  Burne placed the entrance at 230 West 99^th Street within a stately portico upheld by paired columns.
 
Called La Riviera, its apartments contained eight “very large, sunny rooms,” according to an advertisement.  They rented for $1,000 per year, or about $2,858 per month in 2024.  The residents ranged from businessmen—like Louis Heidenheimer, who owned a hops business on South William Street—to artists and musicians, like soprano Ethel Crane and organist and composer Charles B. Hawley.
 

from Empire State Notables, 1914 (copyright expired)

The widely talented Hawley was born in Brookfield, Connecticut and began playing the church organ there when he was 12 years old.  By the time he moved into La Riviera, he was the music director and solo basso at the Broadway Tabernacle Church.  In addition, he was a vocal instructor and composer, having written popular songs like "Spring’s Awakening,” “Ah! ‘tis a Dream,” and “The Sweetest Flower that Blows.”
 

In April 1904, resident Mrs. Vienna Gano found herself in serious legal trouble.  A Christian Scientist, Mrs. Gano accepted “patients” whom she would cure by faith.  Among them was actress Loretta Young, who came with a disturbing problem.  (This stage actress should not be confused with the later motion picture star of the same name.)  She was engaged to be married to actor Earl Dewey in May and in mid-April had undergone an operation performed by Dr. Charles M. Tobynne.  The police became involved when Young died on April 20.  It appears, since both Tobynne and his nurse were arrested, that the procedure had been an abortion.  The New York Times reported, “a subpoena was issued for Mrs. Vienna Gao of La Riviera Apartments, 230 West Ninety-ninth Street, a Christian Scientist, to whom Miss Young had applied for treatment, but who, according to Detective Short, stated that she had abandoned Miss Young’s case because the actress lacked faith.”

 
Another early resident was James Curran, president of the James Curran Manufacturing Company.  Born in 1841, he was a veteran of the Civil War.  According to the Building Trades Employers’ Association Bulletin in December 1905, “For the past forty years he was actively engaged in the business of steam heating, having installed the steam heating plants in many of the public and large office and commercial buildings in this city.”
 
Actress and singer Bertha Shalek lived in La Riviera by 1908.  Born in Chicago on January 2, 1884, she first appeared on stage “as a violinist,” according to the 1908 Who’s Who on the Stage.  Her debut in the title role of Carmen came in 1903 at the Providence Opera House.   The article noted that in the fall season of 1907 “she was with the Van den Berg Opera Company at the West End Theatre, New York.”
 

Bertha Shalek in costume in a 1906 publicity photo.  from the J. Willis Sayre Collection of Theatrical Photographs of the University of Washington.

Joan Schon, who also lived here that year, was marginally involved in the theater.  She was a masseuse and among her well-known clients was opera star Emma Calve.  Their relationship was both professional and social.  The New York Press said on January 9, 1908, “Miss Schon is a great friend of Calve.”
 
When Joan’s dentist, Dr. Allison W. Harland, discovered the friendship, he sought to profit from it.  The Sun explained, “he felt he would get the singer as a customer if Miss Schon would recommend him.”  Joan considered the request and said she would speak to Madame Calve.  The newspaper added that she cautioned, “But, I will not do that for a song.  I must get something out of it.”  Dr. Harlan promised Joan Schon he would give her one-third of any bill paid by Calve.
 
On March 17, 1907, acting on Schon’s recommendation, the diva visited Dr. Harlan’s office.  Her bill totaled $900 (nearly $29,000 today).  The Sun said that Madame Calve was “so pleased with the work that she paid without a murmur.  She told her friend Joan about it.”  When Joan visited the dentist for her cut, according to The Sun, he told her, “it would be a breach of professional ethics for him to pay for even friendly 'touting.'"  And so, the dentist and the masseuse ended up in court.
 
The building’s most colorful resident was Professor W. Bert Reese, a mentalist who had appeared (according to him) before several crowned heads of Europe.  Around the time of Joan Schon’s lawsuit, he visited Thomas A. Edison uninvited and, according to the inventor, “gave him information which he lacked, concerning certain ingredients needful in his storage batteries.”  The two men had not previously met.  

Having reservations, Edison later sent a telegraph to Dr. W. H. Thomson which read, “See Prof. W. Bert Reese, 230 West Ninety-ninth Street, New York City.”  The New York Times recalled on November 13, 1910, “Dr. Thomson tested him and found him genuine.  Being a fair-minded man, he wrote at once to Mr. Edison and told him that the mind reader, or whatever he may be, had done extraordinary things.”
 

W. Bert Reese, Psychical Research Review, Volume III No. 2 August 1917 (copyright expired)

Reese would be tested again in January 1913.  An undercover female detective appeared at his apartment, “representing herself as a single woman burdened with wealth and real estate, but troubled far more by her inability to attract mankind,” said The New York Times on January 18.  He advised her not to sell her real estate, saying he thought it would “increase twofold in value, owing to the election of a Democratic President.”  Although he refused payment of any kind, she arrested him for fortune telling.
 
At the station house, detectives poked fun at the 62-year-old.  Eventually, Reese asked one, Detective Sussillio, “to write down on a piece of paper any question he desired answered,” said The New York Times.  Sussillio wrote down his question, showed it to another detective, and folded it away. 
 
“You have asked me to tell you the first name of your mother.  Her first name is Pauline,” said Reese.
 
He had gotten both the question and the answer correct.
 
In night court, Magistrate Krotel questioned the female detective.  The New York Times reported, “after learning that she had put false questions to Reese told her she could not complain at receiving false answers.”   Reese was released.
 
He was not so lucky two years later when another undercover detective came to his apartment.  This time he accepted five dollars from Adele Priess.  He began his plea in court, “No, I am not a low fortune teller, I’m an entertainer.  I have entertained James J. Hill, William Travers Jerome and Charles Dillingham.  The crowned heads…”  He was cut off at that point by the Magistrate who asked whether he had accepted the five dollars. 
 
“That was just part of the entertainment,” Reese responded.
 
He was released under $1,000 bond and ordered “not to entertain that way for a year.”
 
The Reeses were still living here in 1926 when W. Bert Reese died in Europe.  His widow continued to live in their apartment.
 
By 1913, Lucille Dreyfous and Florence Dreyfous occupied an apartment.  The 45-year-old Florence was an artist who exhibited two watercolors, A Boy and Mildred, in the landmark International Exhibition of Modern Art that year.  She had studied at the Chase School of Art and under Robert Henri at the Henri School of Art.  The Brooklyn Museum of Art included her work in its 1921 watercolor exhibition.
 

Florence Dreyfous's A Boy's Portrait was typical of her style.

On the night of June 1, 1920, a burglar entered the apartment of Gilbert Kuh and his wife by shimmying up the dumb water.  He made off with “jewelry and wearing apparel valued at several hundred dollars,” according to the New-York Tribune.  Working on the statement from the building’s janitor that he saw the crook stashing “part of the loot in the courtyard of the building,” a detective hid in there in the shadows.  The plan worked.  Before dawn the thief returned to recover his booty.  John Buckley, a 29-year-old tile layer, was arrested.  He denied any knowledge of the crime.
 
Three weeks after the incident, the New-York Tribune reported that La Riviera had been leased to the West Ninety-ninth Street Corporation for 84 years.  The article noted, “The lessees have filed plans for extensive alterations…including the remodeling of the ground floor into stores.”  The renovations resulted in three stores on the Broadway side.
 

The cornice survived as late as 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1954 the corner store was home to the office of optometrist Murray M. Smolar.  Appropriately, today a branch of Cohen’s Fashion Optical occupies the space.  Coincidentally, 2616 Broadway, which was the Hong Liquor Store in the third quarter of the 20^th century, today houses Cork & Barrel, another liquor store.

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The Lost Charles Lanier House - 30 East 37th Street

 

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

James Franklin Doughty Lanier was born in North Carolina on November 22, 1800.  His earliest ancestor in America was Thomas Lanier, who arrived with his friend, John Washington, in Virginia in 1655.  (Washington's great-grandson, George, would become America's first President.)  

In 1849, James Franklin Doughty Lanier moved his family to New York City.  His first wife, Elizabeth Gardner, had died in 1846 and he married Mary McClure in 1848.  Lanier, who started out practicing law, turned to banking in the 1830s and became president of the Bank of Indiana in 1833.  The year he moved his family to New York, he co-founded the banking firm of Winslow, Lanier & Co. with Richard H. Winslow.

The Laniers moved into a fine residence at 16 West 10th Street.  Charles Lanier was 12 years old at the time.  Two years after he married Sarah E. Egleston on October 7, 1857, he was taken into his father's banking firm.  The newlyweds remained in the West 10th Street house, increasing the population with a son, James Frederick Doughty Lanier III, born in 1858; two daughters, Sarah Egleston, born in 1862; and Fannie who arrived two years later.

Sarah Egleston Lanier was pregnant again in 1870 when she and Charles left West 10th Street for their own opulent, double-wide mansion at 28-30 East 37th Street.  Elizabeth Gardner Lanier would be born there on October 29, 1870.

Charles Lanier later in life.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

The family's brownstone fronted, Italianate house rose four stories above an English basement.  The arched entrance sat within a Corinthian columned portico.  In a highly unusual move, the architect chamfered the western corner.  His doing so strongly suggests the Laniers' property extended a few feet into a narrow garden between the mansion and the carriage house of the former Isaac Newton Phelps mansion which was erected on the Madison Avenue corner in 1854.

The drawing room of the mansion was the scene of Sarah's marriage to Francis Cooper Lawrance, Jr. on the afternoon of December 14, 1881.  The choice of a house wedding rather than a more socially visible ceremony was, no doubt, because of James F. D. Lanier's death three months earlier.  The New York Times said, "The wedding was private, owing to recent deaths in the bride's family, and the guests were limited, therefore, to near relatives and most intimate friends."

The family's summer estate, Allen Winden, was in Lenox, Massachusetts.  Fannie married Francis R. Appleton in Trinity Church there on October 7, 1884.

The residence at Allen Winden was designed by Peabody & Stearns in 1882.  from Lenox, 1886 (copyright expired)

James F. D. Lanier III was the next to marry.  His wedding to Harriet Bishop in the West Presbyterian Church on West 42nd Street was a socially prominent affair.  On November 25, 1885, The New York Times reported, "In the rear of the church was a grouping of luxuriant tropical plants, palms and ferns stretching above the organ loft.  The pulpit was buried under a mass of roses."  Among the long list of socially elite guests at the wedding and reception were Mrs. Stuyvesant Fish, Mrs. Oliver Belmont, Mrs. Seward Webb, Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. D. O. Mills and Ogden Mills.

As his father had done, James brought his bride to his parents' home.  Two sons would be born in the East 37th Street house--Charles Day in 1886, and Reginald Bishop in 1888.

Four months before James's and Harriet's wedding, Charles had hired builder G. Mulligan to install a bay window on the parlor floor.  The handsome alteration cost him the equivalent of $19,600 in 2024 terms.

The social spotlight finally landed on Elizabeth (known within the family as Lizzie) in 1889.  On December 13, the New-York Tribune reported, "Mrs. Charles Lanier, No. 30 East Thirty-seventh-st., gave a reception yesterday afternoon for her daughter, Miss Lizzie Lanier."  Among those assisting in receiving were Lizzie's sisters.  The article noted, "About 1,000 people were present."

Two years later, Lizzie married George Evans Turnure in  Trinity Church in Lenox.  The Springfield Daily Republican reported, "a large and fashionable company of guests were present," adding, "The wedding breakfast at the country house of Mr. and Mrs. Lanier was the scene of a delightful gathering immediately after the ceremony."  Astoundingly, the article said, "More than 1000 varieties of roses were used in decorating the entire lower level of the house."

James and Harriet still lived in the townhouse with Charles and Sarah.  In October 1891, they were looking for a governess for their eldest son.  Their ad read, "Wanted--German governess, able to give English lessons to a boy until he goes to school, and take entire charge of him; must have best references."  (The mention of taking "entire charge" of the boy before entering school suggests Charles Day Lanier would be going away to a high-end boarding school.)

Charles had the house updated in 1896, apparently modernizing the interiors.  On March 22, The New York Times reported that his alterations would cost $15,000.  The significant expense would translate to half a million in 2024 dollars.

Up-to-date décor was necessary for the Laniers' extensive entertaining.  The 1895 America's Successful Men of Affairs mentioned, "His wife and he are hospitable entertainers and welcome in the most cultivated circles."  The article listed his exclusive club memberships, including the Union League, the Union, the Metropolitan, Knickerbocker, Century, Tuxedo, and Players' Clubs among others.

In February 1898, Sarah caught the flu and never recovered.  She died in the East 37th Street mansion on April 18 at the age of 61.  Somewhat surprisingly, her funeral was not held in the house, but at the Church of the Incarnation on Madison Avenue and 35th Street.

Equally surprising, ten months later James and Harriet left Charles, still in mourning, for an extended period.  On December 1, The Sun reported they, "will go abroad this month, to remain until the summer at least."  The article noted that earlier they had leased their country house, Sunridge Hall, at Westbury, Long Island, to Clarence H. Mackay and his wife for three years."

In April 1901, James and Harriet began construction of a sumptuous townhouse nearby at 123 East 35th Street.  Two months earlier, Charles had given the family a scare when he was injured in a serious accident.  On the evening of February 14, he and the housekeeper, Miss Bigelow, were being driven in the Lanier coupé by coachman Christopher Hayer to visit Louisa Minturn at 22 Washington Square.  At the corner of Madison Avenue and 29th Street, the hose wagon of Engine Company No. 1 collided with the carriage.  The New-York Tribune reported, "Hayer attempted to get out of the way, but before he succeeded the pole of the hose wagon had pierced the side of the coupé."

The speeding wagon pushed the carriage to the curb and both teams of horses fell to the pavement.  The two drivers were thrown from their seats.  The New-York Tribune reported, "Mr. Lanier was injured on the side and chest and Miss Bigelow suffered considerably from shock."  After being taken to the home of Vernon H. Brown at 95 Madison Avenue, the pair was brought home in a cab.  The newspaper noted, "The coupé was badly wrecked, but none of the horses were injured."

James and Harriet moved into their new home in 1903.  The following year, Charles's grandchildren, Charles Lanier Lawrance and Katherine "Kitty" Lanier Lawrance moved into 30 East 37th Street.  They were 22 and 11 years old respectively.  Their mother, Sarah Lanier Lawrance, died in 1893, the year Kitty was born.  Their father married Susan Ridgway Willing the following year.  After his death in 1904, Susan surrendered the custody of her step-children to their grandfather and moved to Paris with the daughter she had with Francis Lawrance.

On September 21, 1915, Kitty was married to William Averell Harriman in Trinity Church in Lenox.  The reception was held at Allen Winden.  The New York Times said, "breakfast will be served on the porches and at small tables on the terraces...The villa and the grounds are most inviting."  Harriman would go on to become Governor of New York and Under Secretary of State for Political Affairs under Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson.

The younger Charles Lanier had moved to a ranch in Omaha, Nebraska by the time of his sister's wedding.  He died there at the age of 32 on December 4, 1918.

On January 19, 1926, Charles gave "an informal reception" to celebrate his 89th birthday.  Less than two months later, on March 8, The Springfield Daily Republican reported, "News was received here this afternoon of the death at his home in New York city of Charles Lanier, 89, who has made Lenox his summer home for the past 60 years."  The newspaper mentioned that he was "a close friend of the late [J.] Pierpont Morgan and was a member of the little group, informally called the Corsair club, which met on Mr. Morgan's yacht."

The Lanier house became the Harvard Business Club.  While the club occupied the lower floors as its clubhouse, certain unmarried members lived in the upper floors.  It remained here until 1938 when the Dartmouth Club moved in.  In its March 1938 issue, the Dartmouth Alumni Magazine reported, "By the time this appears the ritzy Dartmouth Clubhouse at 30 East Thirty-seventh Street should be in use."  The article mentioned that the "extensive refurbishing was almost completed."

The Dartmouth Club was replaced by the Andrew Furuseth Club in 1942.  The Seafarers Log reported on October 1, "The most sumptuous quarters ever set aside for the exclusive use of the merchant seaman was dedicated today in a ceremony which included prominent speakers from all walks of American life."  The article said, "This entire structure is for the exclusive use of the merchant seamen.  They have only to show their discharges at the door and all facilities are at their disposal."

A postcard depicted activities in the Andrew Furuseth Club--a stark contrast from entertainments during the Lanier years.

The Andrew Furuseth Club would have to find new quarters in 1949.  The former Lanier mansion was demolished to make way for the Emery Roth & Sons designed Morgan Park apartment building, which survives.

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