The 1833 Horace Whitehorn House - 23 Vandam Street

 

In 1833, Israel and Sarah F. Clark were living in the two-and-a-half story house at 21 Vandam Street that Clark, a mason and builder, had erected in 1826-27.  That year, Daniel Turner erected four similar homes at 23 through 29 Vandam Street.  Israel Clark purchased 23 Vandam Street, next door to his home, as an investment property.

Although the Greek Revival style was gaining favor by then, Turner remained faithful to the Federal style seen in the earlier buildings (like the Clark house) along the block.  Two stories of red, Flemish bond brick sat upon a brownstone basement.  The elegant entrance included fluted, Ionic columns and delicate carving around the transom.  Two dormers perched above the cornice.

Clark's first tenant was real estate broker Ichabod Hoit, whose office was at 71 John Street.  In 1836, he advertised space in the basement for rent as an office, noting it was "well calculated for a physician or a lawyer."

During the first years of the 1840s, the house was apparently operated as a boarding house.  Living here in 1843, for instance, were two carpenters, Andrew Switzer and James Willis and their families, and Sidney Youngs, a tailor.

Around 1845, Horace Whitehorn moved his family into 23 Vandam Street.  Born on April 21, 1808 in Newport, New York, Whitehorn was a tailor.  He married Deborah Blanchard on April 18, 1832 and the couple had two sons: John, born in 1834; and Steven, born in 1837.  Horace's tailoring establishment was at 90 Bowery.  Also living here by 1850 was Horace's brother, Samuel Whitehorn, a clothier on William Street.

On August 26, 1854, Horace was "returning from a trip to the West," according to The New York Times.  He had stayed the night in Poughkeepsie and at 8:00 that morning went to the train station.  As he was purchasing his ticket to New York City, "he discovered that his pocket-book had been abstracted," said the newspaper.  The theft was newsworthy in that the pocketbook contained "$2,200 in bank notes and drafts,."  The amount would equal about $82,400 in 2025.

Within a few years, the Whitehorns relocated to Warren, New York.  The Vandam Street house saw a series of occupants throughout the next decade.  Clerk and firefighter Jacob Marcellus lived here in 1865-66; followed by Ebenezer D. Hoyt.  Born in 1824 in Norwalk, Connecticut, Hoyt's first American ancestor, Simon Hoyt, arrived in America in 1629.  Ebenezer D. Hoyt died in the Vandam Street house on September 13, 1871.

The residence was purchased by Morgiana W. Farrell, the widow of Henry Farrell.  Her three young adult children, Eleanor B., Edward and Jesse, moved in as well.  Eleanor was a teacher in the Boys' Department of School No. 20 on Chrystie Street.  The family took in one boarder at a time.

The quiet of 23 Vandam Street was upset on the night of October 1, 1876, when the Farrell brothers became embroiled in a quarrel.  The New York Times reported, "A fight followed, during which Edward stabbed Jesse in the back beneath the left shoulder, and in the left hand, with a pocket-knife."  Edward fled the house before police arrived.  

The police surgeon who attended Jesse described his wounds as "of a dangerous nature."  The Times reported that Jesse, "refused to inform the Police as to the origin or cause of the quarrel, and said it was a family affair, in which he was as much to blame as his brother."  Two detectives were detailed to look for Edward.

Following Morgiana Farrell's death, 23 Vandam Street was sold "by order of the executrix" in 1888.  It was resold two years later to John Brosnan for $12,000 (about $415,000 today).  Brosnan simultaneously purchased 20 Vandam Street and used both properties for rental income.

Living at 23 Vandam Street in 1892 was the family of Peter Quinn.  He owned two liquor stores, one at 109 Varick Street and the other at 188 Bleecker Street.  The following year, Patrick and Celia Burke McGowan leased the house.  Patrick McGowan was a clerk--the nebulous term ranging from a low level office position to a highly responsible one.  The couple had a son, John.  Living with the family was Celia's 22-year-old brother, Michael Burke.

Burke was a laborer on the subway when the family moved in, but by 1893 he was unemployed.  That year, in August, he was afflicted with what The Evening World described as "intestinal troubles."  The newspaper said that because of the condition, "frequently at night [he] would walk down to the piers near the foot of Canal street."

On the night of September 11, 1893, Alexander Gill and John Rohan were "sitting under the old city dump at Canal street," according to The Evening World.  The men saw Burke walk out on the pier and gaze at the water for a few minutes.  He then walked "on to the dumps and sat down near the edge," said the article.  "Suddenly he took off his hat and slid into the water."

Gill and Rohan, along with two others, ran to the spot, but Burke had disappeared beneath the water.  A police officer got a boathook and eventually fished Burke's body out of the river.  The Evening World reported that Celia McGowan did not think her brother "intended to commit suicide, but thinks he was overcome by weakness and fell into the water."

In 1887, the McGowans had a baby.  About the same time, they sublet the second floor to a widow, Augusta Heirle.  She lived there with her parents, a Mr. and Mrs. Lynn.  The New-York Tribune described the accommodations saying, "There are three rooms on the second story of the house, a front room, a middle or dark room and a rear room."

Fire was a constant threat in the 19th century.  That became frighteningly clear in the winter of 1898.  On February 12, The Evening Post reported, "A lamp exploded last night in the home of Patrick McGowan, No. 23 Vandam Street."  Happily, a passing policeman rushed in and helped extinguish the fire.

There would be another, more serious explosion in the house the following year.  On April 23, 1899, the New-York Tribune reported that men from the Consolidated Gas Company "were busy yesterday afternoon fixing the meter and pipes of the house."  One of the men was in the "dark room" on the second floor.  Augusta Heirle and her mother were in the rear room having dinner.

"Suddenly there came a tremendous explosion," said the article.  "The house was violently shaken; all the windows on the second floor and attic were blown out, pictures were thrown from the walls and Mrs. Heirle and Mrs. Lynn were thrown from their seats to the floor."  Downstairs, Celia McGowan thought the house was about to collapse.  "She ran terrified with her eighteen-months-old child in her arms," said the New-York Tribune.  Simultaneously, three firefighters from Engine Company No. 30 happened to be passing.  They rushed into the house, fully expecting to find a fire, but there was none.  The second story worker, who was only slightly cut on the nose, had the presence of mind to shut off the gas immediately.  In the meantime, the explosion was heard for blocks around and "a great crowd gathered" outside the house.

In 1900, John Brosnan sold 23 Vandam Street to Mary T. Brennan.  She continued to lease it to the McGowans.  John McGowan was a young man by now and that year he was managing St. Anthony Catholic Church's amateur baseball team.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Patrick McGowan died here on February 17, 1902 at the age of 50.  Celia and her sons continued to lease the house through 1905, when Mary T. Brennan sold it.  The dwelling saw a series of owners throughout the post-World War I years.  It was purchased in 1924 by William S. Coffin, who was buying up scores of properties in the district at the time.  Although Coffin converted almost all of the vintage houses to apartments, often altering them with shed dormers, he left 23 Vandam Street relatively untouched and sold it to his tenant, a Mrs. Cusack, in April 1924, shortly after he purchased the property.

The house remained a single-family home until 1974, when it was converted to apartments--one per floor.  A renovation completed in 1985 returned the upper three floors to one residence, with an apartment in the basement level.

photographs by the author

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The 1861 Lee B. Anderson House - 35 Stuyvesant Street

 

The Director General of the West India Company in New Netherlands, Peter Stuyvesant, established two farms far north of the settlement in March 1651.  A lane that separated Bouwerij #1 and #2 would eventually become Stuyvesant Street.  In 1803, Stuyvesant's great-grandson, Petrus, erected a Federal-style house at what would be numbered 21 Stuyvesant Street as a wedding present for his daughter Elizabeth and Nicholas Fish.

When East 10th Street, part of the rigid street grid of the 1811 Commissioners Plan, was opened in 1826, the diagonally-running Stuyvesant Street created an odd shaped parcel, the triangular point of which Elizabeth Stuyvesant retained as her garden.  Four years after Elizabeth's death on September 16, 1854, Matthias Banta purchased the point for development.

Historians attribute the resultant rowhouses to James Renwick, Jr., who had designed the magnificent Grace Church about three blocks to the west in 1846.  Completed in 1861, the Anglo-Italianate, five-story-and-basement homes varied from 16- to 32-feet-wide and (because of the triangular plot), their depths ranged from 16- to 48-feet.  Like its neighbors, the rusticated brownstone basement and first floors of 35 Stuyvesant Street sat below four stories of red brick trimmed in brownstone.  The tall, fully-arched windows of the second floor held hands by means of a stone bandcourse.  Each of the architrave frames of the upper openings were treated slightly differently.

Margaret Russell VanDuzer, who most likely leased 35 Stuyvesant Street, operated it as an upscale boarding house.  High end boarding houses accepted a limited number of residents.  In 1863, VanDuzer's boarders were the families of John Joseph Clarke and Benjamin Constable, both drygoods merchants.

In 1871, Margaret VanDuzer leased 126 West 10th Street as her boarding house, and Eliza A. Roe, the widow of George Roe, took over.  Five years later, Clara A. Dunbar, another widow, operated the boarding house.

Charles Merriweather moved into rooms here in 1888.  Born in Louisville, Kentucky in 1856, his father was W. H. Merriweather, described by The New York Times as "a rich pork packer."  Charles graduated from the Forest House Military Institute.  Despite his affluence, he did not have a sterling reputation.  The New York Times said, "he was reared in luxury and idleness."  The New York Press was even more direct, saying he "was graduated as a bachelor of sciences, but was indolent and wayward and did not continue his studies.  He did continue his dissipations, however, and finally embraced the stage as a means of livelihood."

When he took rooms at 35 Stuyvesant Street, he was working as a theatrical agent.  He began a dalliance with a servant girl in the house, and when she became pregnant he married her "to save her name," according to The New York Press.  The New York Times reported, "his downfall dates from this event, as she proved to be ungrateful and worthless."  In January 1889, he left her.  The New York Press explained, "he cynically took up the profession of a gambler and did well until a streak of bad luck cleaned him out in May."

On August 23, 1890, contractor Edward Cunningham and Policeman Cullen were standing on East 15th Street near the East River.  They saw, "a handsome, slim and neatly-dressed man" walk down the dock, tear up a letter, and plunge into the water.  He was pulled out "after he had sank twice," according to The New York Times, and taken to Bellevue Hospital where Charles Merriweather was resuscitated and arrested.  (Attempted suicide was a jailable offense.)  The newspaper said, "Two hours later he was none the worse for his bath and able to tell [his] very interesting story."  (He had torn up the letter, he explained, to destroy his identity.)  What happened to the "worthless" Mrs. Merriweather and her child is unclear.

In the late 1890s, a Mrs. Weischert leased the boarding house.  The Sun, in 1899, described it as "one of the clean and respectable furnished-room houses which are common in the German section of the city."  Living here was German-born Alexander Weiser, who had loaned Mrs. Weischert part of the money needed to purchase the lease.

Directly behind 35 Stuyvesant Street was the rooming house of another widow, Laura Aster, at 126 East 10th Street.  Her husband died in 1889 and in 1898 she leased the 10th Street house "and supported herself by letting out furnished rooms," according to The Sun.  

Alexander Weiser somehow became acquainted with Laura Aster, who was about 40 years old.  The Sun said, "he used to visit her, coming through the gate in the rear fence."  The Morning Telegraph said that letters discovered later made it "evident that Weiser and Mrs. Aster...had intimate relations."  Weiser became infatuated with the widow and began "importuning Mrs. Aster to marry him ever since he knew her," said The Sun.  Laura Aster, however, was less smitten.

In the meantime, issues over the loan made things between Weiser and Mrs. Weischert become tense.  The Sun said they quarreled and "the difficulty [led] to his being turned out of the house."  He sued, and was awarded part of the money.  

His leaving the Stuyvesant Street house did not dampen his ardor for Laura Aster and Weiser became a stalker.  The Sun said he, "paid unremitting attentions to Mrs. Aster, visiting her and writing letters to her."  She told her brother that his attentions "were distasteful to her," and said, "He acts as if he's crazy about me.  I wish he would stop bothering me.  I don't want him around."

At around 10:00 on the morning of September 16, 1899, a delivery boy, who came daily, arrived at the East 10th Street house.  Getting no answer at the door and finding it locked, he got a box and peered into a window.  He saw the bodies of a man and Laura Aster on the floor.  He and a street cleaner attempted the doors and windows.  "This drew an immense crowd," said The Morning Telegram.  A police officer came around to 35 Stuyvesant Street and through the rear gate (just as Weiser was accustomed to), and forced the rear door.  It appeared that Weiser had shot Laura Aster in the back of the head while she was cooking.  Weiser then shot himself in the left temple.

On December 18, 1901, Josephine McCarthy, described by The Evening World as, "a pretty girl, twenty-two years old," took a furnished room here.  She asked to be called at 6:00, but when a servant knocked on the door, she did not answer.

Later a friend, Marie Vloff, arrived.  The Evening World reported, "when she also failed to arouse her she said that something was wrong."  The door was forced open and Josephine was found unconscious.  Gas was found to be leaking from a stove.  Despite Marie Vloff's insistence that Josephine had money and "had no trouble," the physician who arrived said he believed she had attempted suicide.  Josephine McCarthy was held in the prison ward at Bellevue Hospital.

This 1941 photograph predated the now-famous wisteria vine by more than a decade.  image via the NYC Department of Records & Information Services.

A similar incident occurred three years later.  By now Charles Dosetla operated the rooming house and among his tenants were the Thomas family.  Frederick A. Thomas was a student in a business college.  When his father returned to their rooms around 6:00 on January 23, 1904, he found the 17-year-old, "lying on the bed partly dressed and unconscious."  It appeared that Frederick disconnected the gas tube from the stove and attached it to a table lamp.  Without lighting it, he lay down on the bed.  The New York Times explained, "The regulator on the lamp was turned so as to allow the gas to escape."  This time the incident was deemed accidental.  Sadly, doctors at Bellevue Hospital said, "he has small chance of recovery."

The criminal careers of roomers Louis Libby and William Shapiro ended in August 1912.  Russian-born gangster Herman M. Rosenthal, a.k.a. the Black Ace, turned informant and narrowly escaped an assassination attempt in July that year.  Despite a warning by the district attorney to stay low, he went to the Metropole Cafe, a Tenderloin district nightclub, on July 15.  At around 1:30 a.m., Rosenthal was told that someone wanted to see him outside.  He stepped out and was gunned down. 

The license plate of the getaway car was tracked to Libby.  On August 12, The Sun reported that it, "led the police to 35 Stuyvesant street, where Libby and Shapiro, owners of the automobile, were feigning sleep."  The Kingston Daily Freeman reported, "William Shapiro, the chauffeur who drove the automobile which carried the assassins to and from the Hotel Metropole for the murder of Herman Rosenthal, had turned states evidence and would make a full confession."  The article said he "would name every man who rode in the car and tell every fact that he knew in connection with the killing."

The house changed hands a few times over the subsequent years until 1958, when Lee B. Anderson purchased it.  An arts education teacher, Anderson had begun collecting Gothic Revival American furniture and accessories at a youth, far before the style was considered collectible.  He filled the house with a remarkable collection of Civil War Era paintings, furnishings and bric-a-brac.

Lee B. Anderson in the Stuyvesant Street house.  from the collection of the Lee B. Anderson Estate

The house and his collection were included in an exhibition "The Gothic Revival Style in America, 1830-1870" at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston, and was featured in articles in The New York Times, House & Garden, World of Interiors, and Art & Antiques.

Anderson's bedroom and first floor.  Arts & America, 1971

It is unclear whether Anderson planted the wisteria vine that would climb its bricks over the subsequent decades.  If not, it was young when he purchased the house.  Anderson carefully cultivated it, earning him a 2003 Village Preservation Award for "making the Village a more beautiful place."

Janet Bryant photographed the wisteria in May 2021.  image courtesy of Jane Bryant

Artist and collector Hunt Slonem told Andriane Quinlan of Curbed in 2023, "Everybody and their dog came there."  He rolled off the names of Andy Warhol, fashion designer Halston, Cher, Lee Radziwill and actress Sylvia Miles as examples.

photos from Arts & America, 1971

By the first years of the 20th century, Glenn Zecco shared the house, acting as Anderson's caretaker.  Lee B. Anderson died in 2010, leaving the Lee B. Anderson Memorial Foundation to support institutions that advance the appreciation of decorative arts.  Glenn Zecco remained in the house until 2023, when it was sold.

many thanks to reader Janet Bryant for suggesting this post

photographs by the author

Buchman & Kahn's 1926 Hoffmann Building - 79 Madison Avenue

In 1914, millionaire real estate operator Robert W. Goelet announced that he would erect a "16-story brick fireproof store and loft building" on the northeast corner of Madison Avenue and 28th Street.  Architects Warren & Wetmore projected the cost of the project at $350,000.  The firm had recently designed the new Grand Central Terminal, which was completed the previous year.

For some reason, however, the project did not go forward.  Instead, eleven years later, the 79 Madison Ave. Corp., headed by Harris H. Uris, acquired the property and hired Buchman & Kahn to design an office and loft building on the parcel.  On June 6, 1925, the New York Evening Post reported that the architects, "have placed the estimated cost at $3,500,000 for land and building."  The figure would translate to about $60.8 million in 2025.  The article noted, "The building is expected to be ready for occupancy about February 1, 1926."

Buchman & Kahn designed the 16-story building in the Renaissance Revival style.  The three-story base was faced in stone.  The first and second floors were designed as a segmental arcade, the spandrels of which were filled with deep red, veined stone.  The reeded pilasters of the third floor were decorated with carved bands.  They upheld a remarkable intermediate cornice that smacked of Egyptian lotus capitals.  It was adorned with full relief, carved rosettes.

Above the 12th floor--decorated with stone and terra cotta panels--were two setbacks, at the 13th and the 14th through 16th floors.

photograph by Sigurd Fischer from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The New York Evening Post remarked, "The architects have introduced every detail of modern business building design in the layout and plan, including ceiling heights of unusual liberality, [and] four freight and four passenger elevators."  The most noticeable ceiling height of "unusual liberality" was the ground floor, which was nearly double height.  It was leased to the Equitable Trust Company in January 1926.

The Hoffmann Building attracted a variety of tenants.  Initial lessees were apparel-related firms like The Rubber Reducing Corset Co. and Barton's Bias Narrow Fabric Co.  Publisher G. K. Hanchett was also an initial tenant.  The firm published periodicals like Good Hardware and Progressive Grocer.  Other early tenants were accountant Leonard Levine; the French-based fabric firm of Seydoux & Michau; and Anderson, Meyer & Co., Inc., dealers of antimony.  (Antimony is a gray metal, used in alloys.)

The Corset and Underwear Review, April, 1926 (copyright expired)

G. K. Hanchett remained in the building well into the Depression years.  Another publisher, Frederick Warne & Co., which dealt in children's books, leased space in 1944.

The second half of the century saw the tenant list of 79 Madison Avenue filling with focus-related groups.  The City Youth Board was here in the late 1950s through mid-1960s.  At the same time, the Committee for the Monroe Doctrine and the Committee of One Million Against the Admission of Communist China to the United Nations were here.  The 1970s and 1980s saw the Council for Agencies Servicing the Blind, the National Association of Social Workers, and the New York Coalition for Safety Belt Use leasing space.

Image by Wurts Bros., 1936, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In the meantime, Dodd, Mead & Co. signed a lease for the eighth floor in September 1966.  The New York Times reported that the book publisher, "will use the space for new editorial, executive and business offices beginning in February."  The firm would remain for decades.

Occupying space at the time was the public relations firm Marvin Liebman Associates.  During the 1964 Presidential campaign, the firm did the public relations work for the Barry Goldwater organization.  

Two interesting tenants here as early as the 1980s were Sparkman and Stephens, Inc. and the German Wine Information Bureau.  Sparkman and Stephens, Inc. offered an upscale service--chartering more than 350 yachts including captain and crew.  According to Joanne A. Fishman, writing in The New York Times on May 30, 1982, the winter charters were mostly in the Caribbean.  In the summer months, however, they "run mostly in New England, the Mediterranean, the Baltic, off Norway, Sweden and Denmark and the English Coast."

Buchmand & Kahn placed intricate sunflower screens above the entrance doors. photograph by Sigurd Fischer from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

As its name implied, the German Wine Information Bureau disseminated the nuances of German wines.  In November 1985, New Yorkers who were seriously interested in learning about them could enroll in the German Wine Academy here.  Its five-month seminars took the enrollees to the vineyards and wineries of the German wine regions.  The German Wine Information Bureau operated here at least through 1988.

F. Schumacher & Co. became an important tenant beginning in the late 1980s.  Established in 1889, the privately held textile firm designs and manufactures wall coverings, drapery fabrics, and other interior design elements.  When the interior of Radio City Music Hall was restored, F. Schumacher & Co. reproduced the 1931 original carpets and wall coverings.

On June 30, 1995, Newsday reported that F. Schumacher & Co. "is expanding at 79 Madison Ave. by leasing an addition 16,000 square feet to house office and showroom space."

Modernization of vintage buildings most often attack the lower floors, obliterating the original designs as mismatched storefronts are installed.  But 79 Madison Avenue happily escaped that fate.  Although the magnificent entrances have been streamlined and their ornate screens scrapped, overall Buchman & Kahn's 1926 structure survives intact.

photographs by the author

The 1901 Laura B. and H. B. Anthony House - 247 West 101st Street

 

The real estate development firm Egan & Hallecy worked with architects Neville & Bagge several times.  Among their speculative projects were six rowhouses on the north side of West 101st Street between Broadway and West End Avenue.   Neville & Bagge created a balanced row of three designs in an A-B-C-C-B-A plan.  Begun in 1900, the homes were completed the following year.

Among the B models was 247 West 101st Street.  Its formal Renaissance Revival design included a columned portico above a three-step stoop.  Above the rusticated limestone base were three floors of sandy-colored Roman brick (painted white today).  An ornamental railing fronted the second floor windows, and a bowed oriel at the third floor gave dimension.

The initial occupants of 247 West 101st Street were H. B. and Laura B. Anthony.  Anthony was an 1879 graduate of Brown University.  Their residency was relatively short, and the George Herbert Clarke family moved in sometime after 1905.

Clarke married Elizabeth Drummond on November 12, 1902.  Born in 1874, Clarke was two years older than Elizabeth.  They had two sons, George Cheever Clarke II, born in 1903; and John Drummond Clarke, born in 1908.  Moving into the 101st Street house with the family were George's widowed father, George Cheever Clarke, and Mina Dodds Drummond, Elizabeth's widowed mother.  

George Cheever Clarke was born in 1844.  In 1861, he joined the drygoods firm E. T. Tefft & Co..  It was later renamed Tefft, Weller Company and Clarke became its president in 1901.  He was, as well, the chairman of the advisory committee of American Lloyd's, vice-president of the Colonial Assurance Company, and was involved in other insurance firms.  He died at 247 West 101st Street on January 11, 1911 at the age of 67.

One year later, almost to the day, Mina Drummond died on January 10, 1912.  There would be one more Clarke family funeral in the parlor.  Five-year-old John Drummond Clarke died on May 17, 1913.

The Clarkes sold 247 West 101st Street to Joseph (born Giuseppe) and Annetta Gatto Villari in March 1916.  The couple was born in Sicily in 1882 and 1887 respectively and were married in San Filippo Superiore in 1905.  The couple had eight children.  

In 1918, an earthquake severely damaged the 1835 Cathedral of Ponce in Puerto Rico.  Despite no apparent ties to the Sicilian-born Annetta and Puerto Rico, she stepped up to help the restoration efforts.  On February 8, 1919, The Sun reported, "Mrs. Joseph Villari, 247 West 101st street, will give a dance at the Hotel Plaza next Tuesday evening for the benefit of the Cathedral of Ponce."  

The house was photographed by Wurts Bros. on May 28, 1944.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

It is unclear why Villari went to Des Moines, Iowa for an extended trip that following winter.  He died there on July 2, 1920.

The Villari children were well educated.  One of them sought a summer job in 1923, placing an ad in The New York Times that read: "Tutor-Companion to boy during Summer; going country; former Columbia student; Christian, congenial, pleasing personality, commands French, Spanish fluently; highest references.  Write Villari, 247 West 101st St."

In the fall of 1928, Annetta moved to Pelham Manor and leased the 101st Street house in September to Mrs. A. Cummings.  The lease was for five years.  

A year later, on September 30, 1929, Annetta was operated on for acute appendicitis.  She died three days later.

By the outbreak of World War II, 247 West 101st Street was operated as rented rooms.  Among the residents in 1940 was Sylvia Keanfeld, whose name appeared on the list of members of the Communist Party compiled by Government's Special Committee on Un-American Activities.

A renovation completed in 1972 resulted in apartments.  A subsequent remodeling in 1996 returned the main portion of the house to a single-family residence, with a basement apartment.

photographs by the author

The Lost Bank of Commerce - 31 Nassau Street

The newly completed Bank of Commerce building towered over the New York Clearing House to the left.  Real Estate Record & Guide, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

Established on January 1, 1839, the Bank of Commerce was the largest bank in the country by 1863.  On January 27, 1894, the Record & Guide reported that the bank had purchased the Holland Trust Company's property at 33 Nassau Street.  It abutted the Bank of Commerce's marble-faced, Italianate structure at the northwest corner of Nassau and Cedar Streets.  The bank's president, W. W. Sherman told the Record & Guide, "the bank would certainly not build this year, but would, doubtless, soon thereafter."  The article said, "He thought that when they did build, it would be in harmony with the style of the projected Clearing House building."

When this photograph was taken, the bank's handsome 1855 Italianate structure was soon to go.  King's Views of New York, 1893 (copyright expired)

On May 1, 1896, the New-York Tribune reported, "The old National Bank of Commerce Building, at Cedar and Nassau sts., is to be torn down at once for the erection of a tall office and bank building."  The article mentioned, "In consequence, tenants who have had quarters there for many years will have to move."  The bank leased temporary space in the Syndicate Building at Nassau and Liberty Streets.

James B. Baker was hired to design the 18-story bank and office building.  His Renaissance Revival, tripartite design included a limestone clad, four-story-and-basement base.  The double-height Nassau Street arched entrance was flanked with intricately carved pilasters.  The brick-faced midsection was distinguished with grouped openings within 11-story arches.  The top section was clad in limestone, the grouped windows of  the 16th and 17th floors separated by paired columns.

Karl Bitter sculpted the allegorical figures Commerce and Mercury in the spandrels above the entrance.  When they were installed in the spring of 1897, they "attracted a great deal of attention," according to The Sun on May 18.  In fact, it was only one of "heroic figures" that sparked controversy.  The Sun said the male example was "the classical Mercury with the winged cap."  The figure of Commerce, however, which was "very slightly clothed," was "subjected to criticism unfavorable to its anatomical correctness."  The Sun said, "Both figures were almost immediately veiled."

For the next two weeks, passersby heard "the sound of chipping marble behind the screen."  Underneath the draping, Bitter was "flattening some of the contours of the female figure."

Bitter made his Commerce less sensuous.  American Architect and Building News, May 14, 1898 (copyright expired)

The New-York Tribune came to Bitter's defense, saying on May 23, "the much-talked-about spandrels which Mr. Baker introduced over the entrance to the Bank of Commerce Building are not only artistic in themselves but of the utmost importance to the general effect of the Nassau-st. front."

Less controversial was the ceiling painting by Charles Yardley Turner in the entrance hall, Commerce Presiding Over an Exchange of the Products of Wealth and Industry.  This Commerce was fully clothed, described by The New York Times on November 7, 1897 as "Madonnalike."  The critic summarized his lengthy article saying, "As an example of purely decorative composition and delicate color Mr. Turner has surpassed himself in this ceiling."

photograph by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

As the building neared completion, the massive banking vault was scheduled to be delivered.  Unfortunately, Cedar Street had been excavated to lay pipes and, according to The Sun, "The men who did the work left the street in bad shape for eighteen-ton loads."  On April 17, 1897, the truck carrying the steel frame for the vault door "blocked up Cedar street in front of the Clearing House building" the entire day.  One of the rear wheels had sunk into the roadway to the hub.

On April 19, The New York Times reported, "After remaining nearly forty-eight hours mired in the mud on Cedar Street...the seven-and-a-half-ton truck, loaded with a twenty-two ton steel door frame for the Bank of Commerce Building, was moved yesterday morning at 9 o'clock."  Two 20-ton hydraulic jacks had raised the truck and four horses had pulled the truck on heavy skids to the rear entrance of the Bank of Commerce Building.

There was one more hurdle in the building's completion.  An Italian-born marble polisher arrived to work in April with "an eruption on his face."  The worker had smallpox and on May 1 John G. Vaughan, a carpenter, was diagnosed with the disease.  Two days later, William H. Lemon, an engine oiler, was removed from his home by the Brooklyn Board of Health.  He, too, had contracted smallpox.  The Sun reported on May 4, "It is not known what became of the Italian who is suspected of having been suffering from the disease.  He must be well or dead by this time."

King's Views of New York 1903 (copyright expired)

The Bank of Commerce moved in on April 1, occupying the lower floors.  The upper floor offices were rented to real estate agents, attorneys, bankers and brokers.  A particularly notable tenant was financier and railroad mogul, Russell Sage.  On April 3, 1897, The Sun reported that he had moved his office into the building.  Karl Bitter's contentious sculptures were still in the forefront.  In reporting on the banker's move, The Sun titled the article, "Russell Sage Moves To-Day / Going Up Above the Bank of Commerce's Colossal Statues."

In 1900, the bank merged with the National Union Bank and three years later the Western National Bank was absorbed. 

Baker carried the Italian Renaissance motif into the interior.  photographs by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

A high profile tenant moved into the building in February 1906.  Joseph P. Day was one of the foremost real estate appraisers and auctioneers in the city.  Also here were the offices of the Rhinelander Real Estate Co.

Russell Sage died on July 22, 1906 at the age of 90.  On November 2, the New-York Tribune reported that his will directed that his employees, "are to receive double the amount of salary paid them in Mr. Sage's lifetime."

On March 30, 1912, The Sun reported, "The buildings along Nassau street are to be shaved of all encroachments on the public way."  Included was the framework of the National Bank of Commerce entrance.  The article said, "it is not known whether the two nude figures over the doorway, which caused comment at the time of the erection of the building, will be allowed to remain or not."  (It appears they were not.)

The 1922 book National Bank of Commerce in New York remarked on the growth and stability of the institution, saying that its "present figure [is] $25,000,000."  Converted to 2025 terms, the amount would equal $454 million.  Seven years later the bank merged with Guaranty Trust Company of New York.  In 1959, Guaranty Trust merged with J.P. Morgan & Co.

1902 photograph by Irving Underhill, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On November 2, 1964, The New York Times reported, "A group headed by Harry B. Helmsley" had obtained funds "to erect a 49-story office building," adding, "The square-block site, bounded by Broadway and Liberty, Nassau and Cedar Streets, is being cleared."  Included in the block, of course, was the Bank of Commerce Building.

William M. Dowling's 1939 Regent House - 25 West 54th Street

photo by Lowell Cochran

In 1935, Nathaniel Wallenstein, head of the Wallenstein Realty Corporation, hired architect George F. Pelham to design an Art Moderne style apartment building at 411 West End Avenue.  In 1938, two years after that structure was completed, William M. Dowling started plans for another building for Wallenstein, at 25 West 54th Street.  His plans projected the cost of the 12-story structure at $450,000--about $9.73 million in 2025.

Dowling's design for Regent House moved away from Art Moderne and towards Midcentury-Modern.  Its spartan, yellow brick facade relied on its geometric shapes and complex casement windows for interest.  The windows of the slightly-projecting central section wrapped the corners, and those of the set-backs were angled.  Sleek metal railings protected the terraces of the upper floors.  The design did not impress The New York Times architectural columnist Christopher Gray half a century later.  On March 12, 2006, he described it as, "just a plain-vanilla box."

The complex windows are seen in this photograph of the newly-completed building.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Among the initial residents were journalist Cecil Broida Brown and his wife, the former Martha Leaine Kohn.  Born in New Brighton, Pennsylvania in 1907, Brown graduated from Ohio State University in 1929.  He and Martha were married in Rome, Italy in 1938 where, in 1940, he was hired by CBS as their Rome correspondent.  That quickly ended when he criticized the Mussolini regime and was ousted from Italy.

In his Cecil Brown, The Murrow Boy Who Became Broadcasting's Crusader for Truth, Reed W. Smith writes that the Browns moved into "a penthouse apartment in a co-op complex at 25 West 54th Street, just north of the Museum of Modern Art."

Brown left CBS in 1943 after a heated disagreement with news director Paul White.  On the air on August 25, Brown editorialized his newscast with the comment, "a good deal of the enthusiasm for this war is evaporating into thin air."  White insisted on non-bias reporting, while Brown said he could not abide with the CBS policy of "non-opinionated" news.  

Cecil Brown, 1961 NBC Television promotional photo

Following the end of World War II, he worked as a correspondent for ABC and for NBC.  While living here Brown wrote Suez to Singapore, Cecil Brown's Story, a retelling of the sinking of the HMS Repulse in December 1941.  He and Martha left Regent House in 1967, moving to California to teach at Cal Poly Pomona.

On April 20, 1957, The New York Times reported, "A corporation formed by tenants in Regent House, a fourteen-story apartment building at 25 West Fifty-fourth Street, has purchased the property and will operate it on a cooperative basis."  

Among the residents at the time was theatrical booking agent Charles Rapp.  His business, The American Guild of Variety Artists, was in the Brill Building at 1650 Broadway.  (The impressively named firm consisted of a single room and two employees.) He explained to the U.S. Congress Senate Committee on Government Operations in 1962, "I am primarily engaged in supplying entertainment to resort hotels in the Catskill Mountains."  Indeed, he was.  The New York Times later commented, "Mr. Rapp was considered the biggest one-man buyer and supplier of talent in the city...From July 1 to Labor Day, year after year, he booked all but a tiny fraction of the acts in the Borscht Belt."

Rapp started his career when he was 12.  Aware that the son of his building's superintendent could sing and that a caterer (a friend of his father) needed entertainment one Saturday night, he introduced them.  He divided his $10 fee with the singer.

Charles Rapp booked unknown singers, comedians, and dancers, many of whom went onto stardom.  He discovered Jack E. Leonard, Buddy Hackett, Rip Taylor, Alan Kind, Jackie Mason and Henny Youngman among many others.  Two of his clients, Red Buttons and Jan Murray, were working as social directors when he found them.

Among Rapp's neighbors in the building were attorney Sidney S. Bobbe and his wife, author Dorothie de Bear Bobbe.  Born in 1895, Dorothie wrote historical works, including the 1929 Abigail Adams, the Second First Lady; Mr. and Mrs. John Quincy Adams, published in 1930; and her 1939 De Witt Clinton.  She contributed articles to The New York Times Magazine and American Heritage.

photo by Lowell Cochran

Living here in the late 1970s was television host and journalist Ponchitte Pierce.  Born in Chicago in 1942, she started her career as assistant editor of Ebony magazine.  She first appeared on broadcast news in 1967 and in 1973 was made a special correspondent at CBS News.

Ponchitte became close friends with another resident, Megan Marshack.  She was an aide to Nelson Rockefeller, whose office in the vintage rowhouse at 13 West 54th Street was just steps away.  The two women were pulled into a nationwide scandal on January 26, 1979.  At about 10:50 that night, Ponchitte received a panicked phone call from Marshack.  Ponchitte told Jet magazine, "She told me that Governor Rockefeller had suffered a heart attack and she asked me to come immediately to 13 West 54th Street."

Pierce arrived to find her friend trying to perform mouth-t0-mouth on Rockefeller, who had suffered his heart attack during sex.  Pierce said, "It seemed to me that the best thing I could do was call '911.'"  She left immediately afterward and on the way to Regent House, "I saw a police car approaching and I directed the policeman to 13 West 54th Street."  Craig Shirley, in his Citizen Newt, writes, "A longtime Rockefeller aide, Hugh Morrow, appeared and tried to assemble what was left of the old man's dignity before the paramedics, the police and the cream of the New York media showed up."  According to Shirley, Marshack's apartment had been purchased by Rockefeller.

Ponchitte Pierce resided here as late as 1996 when she was included in Notable Black American Women.

Steven M. Kaufmann, who moved into Regent House when the building opened in 1939, was still here in 2004 when he died in his apartment in May at the age of 91.  One of the most colorful residents in the building's history, he had retired at the age of 25.  The New York Times journalist Cathy Horyn interviewed Kaufmann in his apartment earlier that year.  She wrote,

Although I knew that name-dropping would be an inevitable part of a 90-year-old's memories, I was unprepared for what I heard: Gertrude Lawrence, Lena Horne, the 1950s star Ross Hunter, the grande dame Kitty Miller, the investor and art collector Jacques Sarlie, and Rock Hudson.

During the interview, Kauffmann motioned to a chair in his living room.  It was legendary actress Greta Garbo's favorite spot when she visited.  "She used to sit over in that chair," he mentioned.

Kaufmann shared the apartment with his partner of 19 years, Edward DeLuca.  They met in an art gallery in 1985 when Kaufmann was 71 and DeLuca was 24.  Kaufmann told Horyn, "That was the beginning of what I call the glorious years.  All the events in my life cannot compare to what this relationship has meant to me."

photo by Lowell Cochran

William M. Dowling's windows have been replaced.  The laudable attempt to honor the originals falls short.  Nevertheless, the Regent House does not deserve the denigration of "just a plain vanilla box."

many thanks to reader Lowell Cochran for suggesting this post