The 1888 Matthew C. Henry House - 138 East 95th Street

 

In 1960, before being protected within the Carnegie Hill Historic District, the house was given an unsightly rooftop addition, visible from the street.

Developers and builders William J. and John P. C. Walsh embarked on an ambitious project in 1887, breaking ground for 12 rowhouses that would nearly engulf the entire southern blockfront of East 95th Street between Park and Lexington Avenues.  Designed by C. Abbott French & Co., each Queen Anne-style home was different yet harmonious.  They created a charming streetscape of colors and materials, oriels and gables, and other decorations.

The $10,000 worth of stone used in erecting the homes was purchased from M. C. Henry & Co., according to the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide on October 8, 1887.  The "old reliable and successful firm of stone cutters," as described by the journal, was headed by Matthew C. Henry and John Gaynor.

Construction on the row was completed in 1888.  Interestingly, when the Walshes placed the two easternmost houses, 136 and 138 East 95th Street, at auction in October 1889, Matthew C. Henry purchased them for $14,000 each (about $492,000 in 2026 terms).

Henry and his wife, Maria, briefly occupied No. 138.  The couple had a country home in New Rochelle.  Like the others, 138 East 95th Street was three stories tall above an English basement fronted by a dog-legged box stoop.  The upper floors were faced in beige brick and trimmed in terra cotta and sandstone.  The parlor floor openings with their curved corners sat below substantial, blocky lintels--the color of the stone so similar to the brick that they nearly disappear.  Between the door and window was a large terra cotta plaque containing a shield, and charming terra cotta tiles of sunflowers filled the gap below the window.

The late New York Times journalist Christopher Gray would call 138 East 95th Street a "potpourri," pointing out "its great oriel bay designed with 12-pane transoms and curved sides, and flanked by a checkerboard brick wall."  Originally, another terra cotta panel or rondel decorated the gable under the cornice.

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, September 23, 1876 (copyright expired)

Interestingly, in 1890 Henry excavated the basement floor, lowering it to accommodate "dining rooms."  The exact purpose of those rooms is unclear.  

The Henrys sold 138 East 95th Street to Ivan and Hilda Frank in June 1891 for $16,500 (about $587,000 today).  Frank was the principal in Ivan Frank & Co., makers of children's clothing.  The couple had one daughter, Minna Vera, and a son, Lawrence.

Minna's wedding to Sigmund Lang Newman took place in Sherry's on January 26, 1910.

Frank, who was still living with his parents, went into real estate development.  On June 15, 1912, for instance, The New York Times reported that he had purchased 104 through 110 West 29th Street.  "Mr Frank is in Europe at present, but it is understood that...a twelve story modern fireproof loft building is to be erected."

In 1913, the Franks moved to 176 West 87th Street and leased 138 East 95th Street to Morris (sometimes spelled Morice) and Bella Bernhard Schwartzkopf.  Born in New York City in 1857 and 1861 respectively, Morris and Bella had two children, Clara S., born in 1895, and Irving Morris, born in 1898.  Morris was a partner in the cigar box manufacturing firm, Schwarzkopf & Ruckert.

Irving Schwartzkopf entered the U.S. Army in 1916, the same year that his sister's engagement to Harry M. Benjamin was announced.  Clara's wedding took place on June 1, and it is unclear whether Irving was able to attend.

Ivan Frank died on April 9, 1918.  The East 95th Street residence became a rooming house.  While the tenants were respectable, they were not merchant class like the earlier residents.

Living here in 1920 was John Ryan, who worked as a motorman on a trolley.  He was involved in a serious accident on September 15 that year.  The New-York Tribune reported that 13 passengers "were hurt last night when the car crashed into a Broadway trolley in front of the car barns at 129th Street and Amsterdam Avenue."  All of the passengers required medical attention, but only one was hospitalized.

Ryan told authorities that his brakes "were not working right."  When another trolley pulled out of the car barn, Ryan crashed into it.  According to the New-York Tribune, he said "the collision occurred before he could stop his car."

Sara S. Steele, who lived here in 1922, was typical of the other residents.  She worked as a nurse for the City of New York.  Another roomer, named Peterson, was looking for employment that year.  His ad read, "Butler, valet, bachelor apartment or small family; good references." 

At some point around this time, the terra cotta ornament in the gable was removed.  Why it was remains a mystery.

The terra cotta ornament had been pried off the gable as early as 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

No. 138 returned to a single family house when it was sold in October 1951.  It became home to siblings Gilbert and Doris Francklyn, born in 1870 and 1887, respectively.  The Francklyns, who never married, came from high society.  Their father, Charles Gilbert Francklyn, was born on Washington Square.  He was the grandson of Samuel Cunard, the shipping magnate and founder of the Cunard Line.  Their mother was Susan Sprague Hoyt, who was born in the Hoyt mansion at 94 Fifth Avenue.

Charles Gilbert Francklyn died in 1929 and Susan in 1932.  Included in Gilbert's and Doris's inheritance was the family's country home, Redcroft, in Southampton, erected by their father in 1897.  

Gilbert was a retired executive with the Consolidated Gas Company (of which his father had been a director).  A poet, Doris had been a teacher.  

Moving into 138 East 95th Street with the Francklyns was Jean Cammann, a close friend of Doris, who had begun living with the siblings as a teenager in 1940.  At the time, she was attending the Barmore School.

Jean also had a sterling social pedigree.  She made her debut in 1949 "at the Junior Assemblies in New York and the Tuxedo Autumn Ball in Tuxedo Park," said The New York Times.  It is unclear why Jean lived with the Francklyns rather than her mother, Mrs. Philip G. Cammann.  But the situation ended on July 11, 1953 when Jean was married to Arnold Guyot Dana in a notable society wedding in Southampton.

Gilbert Francklyn died in the house at the age of 87 on June 15, 1957.  In reporting his death, The New York Times remarked: "Educated at Eton and at Christ College, Cambridge, England, he had been a famous Cambridge rowing star in the Eighteen Eighties."

Two years later, on August 6, 1959, Doris died at the age of 72 at the Southampton estate.  The Daily Item reported on August 17 that she divided her estate equally to Jean Cammann Dana and "another friend, Alice L. Schrieber."

The new owners of 138 East 95th Street added a studio addition to the roof.  Because the Expanded Carnegie Hill Historic District would not be established until December 1993, there was no restriction against visible, intrusive structures at the time.  The house continues to be a one-family home.

photographs by the author

C. Abbot French's 1889 100 West 76th Street

On May 5, 1888 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide announced that "C. Abbott French & Co. are preparing plans for a large flat...to be built by Lawrence Kelly on the southwest corner of 9th [later Columbus] avenue and 76th street.  It will be of brick and stone and will have modern improvements, the first floor containing stores."  Those modern improvements would have included running hot and cold water and electricity.

The six-story structure was completed the following year.  C. Abbott French & Co. had blended two currently-popular styles, neo-Grec and Queen Anne.  And while the overall bulk of the building was rather ponderous, decorative elements and stone bandcourses relieved the mass.

Above the storefronts on the Columbus Avenue side, the building was sectioned horizontally by bandcourses and vertically by chimney backs.   The latter were decorated with brick rustication at the second and third floors, carved stone panels and eye-catching portrait heads.  Rough-cut stone was used for the quoins of the corners and of the second floor openings, and the top floor windows of the central section wore arched tympani upheld by thin engaged columns.  Every window boasted a variety of colorful stained glass transoms.

The stained glass transoms were produced in a variety of designs; the matching pairs signifying that they were in the same room.

The 76th Street entrance was off-set within the undressed brownstone base.  A sideways porch was sheltered from the elements by a deeply-overhanging stone roof decorated with neo-Grec incised flowers.

The sprawling apartments filled with professional, upper-middle class residents.  Among the most celebrated was Dr. Henry Richardson Rogers.   In its June 1889 issue The American Magazine said of him "Probably there is no man professionally before the public whose life has been so eventful and full of interest as that of Dr. Rogers."  The article began by telling of his early exploits in Cairo and Cuba, how he sailed a ship to New York from Cuba after all its officers had been shot and he had just been "struck down by yellow fever."  Now, it said, after years of labors and study, he had developed important medicines, what he called "Royal Remedies."

The American Magazine, June 1889, copyright expired

But before long Dr. Rogers would be known less for his remedies than for his communications with the dead.  On November 25, 1895 The New York Times reported "Central Office detectives last night arrested Dr. Henry R. Rogers, a pretended Spiritualist, and his accomplice, Matilda Chadwick, at a seance at their house, 100 West Seventy-sixth Street, and they are locked up at Police Headquarters."   Also arrested was Elias Whitmore.

Rogers charged $1 admission, a hefty $30 today, with the promise that deceased loved ones would appear.  After Neil Gerard complained to police that he felt he had been a victim of a scam, he went back accompanied by undercover Detectives Brown and Frye, one of whom carried a warrant in his vest pocket.

In the darkened room Gerard again asked for his sister's ghost.  A white-robed figure appeared in the doorway.

"Are you Emma?" Gerard asked.

"Yes, I'm Emma."

At that point Detective Frye grabbed the ghost and Detective Brown seized Rogers.  The doctor grabbed a hatchet and tried to strike the detective, but missed.  Elias Whitmore attempted to rescue the ghost, Matilda Chadwick, from her captor and he, too, was arrested.

When the trio appeared before the Yorkville Police Court the following day, detectives had laid out an array of evidence, including, according to The Times, "a blond wig, a very much soiled shroud, which had once been white; a black sweater, some yards of mosquito netting, and several pairs of soiled white kid gloves."  In addition to fraud charges, Rogers faced another for assault for his hatchet attack.

From the beginning things did not look good for Rogers.  Before the session began Magistrate Crane said "I believe that man Rogers is one of the biggest scoundrels in this country.  For years he has been getting money out of credulous people by trick and device," and he told Rogers's lawyer, "You appear to be an intelligent man and I would advise you to have nothing to do with this prisoner.  You say you were at the flat last night when these mock manifestations took place, and it is inconceivable to me how you can still put any faith in such a charlatan."

The hearing went on, nevertheless, and Rogers explained that the spirit of Emma Gerard, when touched by human hands, had fled, materializing into Matilda Chadwick.  And as for the hatchet attack, it was nothing of the kind.  He was on his knees trying to open a small cupboard with the hatchet when he was jumped upon and assaulted with his own tool, wrenched from his hand.

Matilda, however, came clean.  Described by The Times as "over fifty years old, and who looks as though she had had many sorrows," confessed that she was paid $5 for each seance in which she impersonated a spirit.  "I had to do something," she said, "as my husband abandoned me six years ago, and does not support me, and I have three children to take care of.  It was either this or dishonor."

She told how she would conceal herself in a cabinet, dressed in various costumes, then appear through the curtains.  Mary, Rogers's wife, stood just outside the curtains in the dark and would whisper the name of the spirit she was supposed to be.

Mary E. Rogers obtained a divorce on January 6, 1897 and twenty days later Henry married the 67-year old widow Harriet Eliza Beach in Cairo.  Harriet's former husband was Alfred E. Beach, editor of the Scientific American, who had died in 1896 leaving her millions.   Rogers had gained her confidence through seances, evoking spirits like a Greek youth Amorona who had reputedly died 2,000 years earlier.

Her children were concerned that she was being duped by the known con artist.  They attempted to have her estate turned over to their control six months after the wedding, but they were too late.  The New York Times reported later "There was evidence [that] Mrs. Beach-Rogers, on the day of her marriage in Egypt, conveyed to her husband all of her property for the consideration of $1."

Harriet filed for divorce early the following year.  Mary Rogers had remarried as well.  Her new husband was William Cauldwell, the former proprietor of the Hotel Empire.  In a bizarre twist Harriet was now living with the couple--so that both of Dr. Rogers's wives were now living in the same home.

In the meantime the building continued to house respectable tenants, like Elizabeth H. Lindsay, "teacher of voice culture," here by 1907.  The contralto paid what would be considered affordable rent for her large apartment.  An advertisement in The Sun on September 13 the following year offered "eight large rooms, corner, $900 to $960."  Rent for the more expensive apartment would equal about $2,250 per month today.

At the time Pedro Rubio, Jr., president of P. V. Rubio & Co., dealers in the "mahogany and fine wood trade," lived here.  Sharing the apartment was his sister, Castora Amanda, and 12-year old Hilaria Orlaineta.  Pedro and Castora were born in Peru, the children of whom The New York Times called "one of Peru's ablest and best-known lawyers."  Hilaria Orlaineta, for whom Pedro had guardianship, was from Mexico.  According to The Times, in 1905 she had been "committed by her parents at Tabasca, Mexico, to the care of Mr. Rubio."

Well-executed portraits start down onto Columbus Avenue

A somewhat bizarre situation arose in September 1908.  Castora was engaged to Almazor Puga, who lived in Peru.  The couple posed a difficult question to City Clerk Scully on September 24--whether or not he would marry them by proxy.  New York officials admitted that marriage by proxy was "perfectly legal" in Peru, but agreed that such a marriage would not be recognized by the courts of the United States.  Federick Bergmann, former Consul General of Peru, had power of attorney for Puga and offered to stand in for him at the civil service ceremony.  It appears, however, that Castora was forced to travel to Peru to be married.

Pedro and Hilaria were in the newspapers two years later when the girl, now 14, disappeared.  She had left the apartment wearing three dresses, one over the other, and The New York Times suggested "there is a possibility that she may have started to walk to her old home in Mexico."  She had some small change on her when she disappeared, what police said was "enough to take her only a dozen miles or so on her way to Mexico."

But Pedro was not so sure that was her plan.  "He thinks she may have run away with a boy friend," said the newspaper.  "Several months ago Mr. Rubio discovered that she was receiving the attentions of a young druggist's clerk whose first name is Victor.  Mr. Rubio told his ward that she would have to stop meeting him."  It is unclear whether the runaway was found.

Mrs. Annie B. Hyatt, the widow of wealthy carpet dealer George E. L. Hyatt, was listed in the building by 1905.  She and her 41-year-old son, James V. A. Hyatt, quarreled in 1913.  Annie got over the spat, but James did not.  Despite what she called "her fruitless search," she never saw him again.

Annie lived on at No. 100 West 76th Street for three decades until her death on December 28, 1932.  She left her entire estate to the two daughters of her attorney, ignoring her son.  Her will said in part "I have watched and waited in vain for his return but as I have been nothing to him in life, I can be nothing to him in death."

Other tenants in the building included etcher Elias M. Grossman and his wife, Josephine.  Born in Russia, he had grown up on the Lower East Side, studying art at the Educational Alliance.  Before he was 25-years-old his work had been accepted for exhibition at the National Academy of Design, the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and similar institutions.

He was especially known for his drawings of aged Jewish persons and by the mid-1940's his works were owned by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the New York Historical Society, the New York Public Library, the Library of Congress and the Fogg Museum.  Grossman died on September 19, 1947.

Somehow the wonderful carved Victorian entrance doors have survived.

The last quarter of the 20th century saw a variety of boutiques in the ground floor.  Designer Koos van den Akker's shop was here by 1972; One Woman Boutique in 1978; and the Danny Noble boutique opened on July 15, 1987.   In 1995 Milanese fashion designer Martino Medali opened his boutique here.

The fashion shops shared spaces with home goods stores.  In 1997 Broden Store was here and the following year Bel Decor opened.

The storefronts have been modernized and replacement windows keep the drafts out upstairs.  But overall little has changed to C. Abbot French's 1889 structure.  And, thankfully, when the windows were replaced those marvelous stained glass transoms were preserved.

photographs by the author

From Violins to Chevy Chase to Zen - 124 East 95th Street

By the late 1880's development on the Upper East Side had reached as far as Goat Hill--presumably named because its steep slope made it unworkable for planting, but quite satisfactory for grazing goats.   In 1887 developer brothers William J. and John P. C. Walsh set out on an ambitious project of a row of 12 residences on the south side of the 95th Street block between Lexington and Park Avenues--numbers 116 to 138.

The architectural firm of C. Abbott French & Co. turned to the popular Queen Anne style for the individual, yet harmonious homes.  Seen more frequently on the west side of Central Park, the often-whimsical style played with historic elements, materials, shapes and colors.

Nearly in the center of the row was No. 124.  Completed in 1888, its parlor level was crowned with an exuberant terra cotta swan neck pediment filled with flowing ribbons and a garland of roses in full bloom.   Its upper curves touched the hooded metal bay of the second floor.  The three-bay arcade of the third floor had a continuous terra cotta eyebrow and was flanked by interesting panels of waffle-like brickwork.  Within the triangular pediment above was a swirling mass of terra cotta vines and flowers that disguised a growling "green man."

Most often lost to the passerby, a snarling "green man"--so called because he is composed of foliage--hides within the terra cotta decoration.

The 19-foot wide house contained 10 rooms and one bath.  An extension into the rear yard accommodated the butler's pantry.  After leasing it for a few years, real estate operator James D. Putnam sold it to Christoper D. Sullivan in May 1901.  He resold it on January 3, 1902 to Henry and Emma Skalmer for $14,525--in the neighborhood of $427,000 today.

Now retired, Skalmer had been well-known on the concert stage.  A violinist, he had been a member of the New York String Quartet with Sam Franko, Sebastian Laender and Arthur Severn.  The group routinely appeared in concert venues like Steinway Hall.

Henry and Emma had six children: Morris, Mark, Joseph, Lilian, Gussie, and Blanche.  By the time the family took possession of No. 124 it appears only Morris, Mark and Blanche were still living with their parents.

Morris was an established dentist, and it was now Mark who was known to concert goers.  On March 23, 1902 The New York Times announced "Mark Skalmer, the 'cellist, announces a concert for next Wednesday evening at Mendelssohn Hall, in which he will be assisted by Miss Hildegard Hoffmann, soprano, and Leopold Winkler, pianist."

On July 26, 1919 the Skalmers announced Blanche's engagement to contractor Joseph Harry Goldblatt.   Following her marriage, Morris stayed on in the house with his aging parents.

Henry Skalmer died in the 95th Street house on November 28, 1924.   The Depression seems to have been financially stressful for Emma and she remortgaged the house several times before losing possession in the 1930's.  Morris came to the rescue, taking the title back from Margaret D. Geyelin in March 1939 with a new mortgage equal to about $335,000 today.

Emma Skalmer died in January 1944.  The 94th Street house became home to the family of stockbroker Otto Culman.  Culman had married Muriel MacGuire in a quiet ceremony in the home of the bride's parents, Dr. and Mrs. Constantine J. MacGuire, at No. 120 East 60th Street on April 9, 1921.

Otto's father, William Culman, was vice president of the Atlantic Macaroni Company and former president of the California Wine Association.  His funeral service on Monday September 22, 1941 was held in the 95th Street house.

Although their names appeared in the Social Register, Muriel preferred to work rather than while her afternoons away with teas and lunches.  She was the manager of Kathleen, Inc., a dress shop owned by her sister.

The Culmans had two children, Kathleen and Peter.  Both would go on to notable careers.  

Educated at the St. Lawrence Academy and the Brearley School, Kathleen attended Smith College and graduated from the Minnesota State Teachers College.  She had left the 95th Street house in June 1943 following her marriage to Robert Blair Ridder.  Greatly influenced by her mother, she became an activist for women in sports, politics and education.  The author of three books, an autobiography entitled My Feminist Life; one about her mother, A Woman Ahead of her Time; and Kathleen Inc, the story of the dress shop Muriel ran with her two sisters.


Kathleen was a major financial contributor to Ridder Arena, the first women's ice hockey facility in the country,   She served on the American Bar Association's accreditation committee tasked with reviewing American law school academics.

Peter showed a proclivity for the stage when he was young.  Decades later The Baltimore Sun noted "His interest in the theater began early.  When he was a child, he spent summers with his older sister in St. Paul, Minn., where he entertained family members and friends with heartfelt renditions of 'Danny Boy' and staged shows in his sister's barn."

His first public appearance was impromptu at best.  In 1948 when he was 10 years old, he went to his first Broadway show, Where's Charley?, with this grandmother.  Their seats were close to the stage, in the fourth row.  Peter knew all the words to the song "Once In Love with Amy" and when Ray Bolger began singing it, the boy rose from his seat and joined along.  Bolger reportedly never missed a beat and continued on--soon accompanied by the entire audience.  In the 1980's Bolger laughingly recounted the story to a journalist.

Peter went on to be the managing director of Baltimore's Center Stage.  He held the position for more than three decades and was credited for making it one of the most prominent regional theaters in the country.

The Culmans sold No. 124 in May 1946.   It became home to the Everitt family.  Charles Raymond was educated at the University of Oxford.  His ancestors had settled in Ipswich, Massachusetts in the early 18th century.  The family still maintained a country home, Miles River Farm, there.  It was there that Everitt died on May 23, 1947.

Everitt and his widow, the former Helen Goetzmann, had four children, Rae Alexander, Jeanne, Charles Bell, and Samuel Agar. Jeanne's wedding to Stewart Richardson on December 8, 1951 was held in the house. Her brother, Charles, gave her away and Rae was her only attendant. A reception was held at the Cosmopolitan Club.

By the time of Samuel's wedding on October 27, 1962, Helen had moved permanently to Hopewell, New Jersey. The 95th Street house had become home to psychiatrist John W. Cederquist and his wife, the former Cathalene Parker Crane and her children from her first marriage to Edward T. Chase, Ned and Cornelius Crane. The Cederquists would have three other children, Pamela, Catherine, and John.

Cathalene, a concert pianist and librettist, had grown up in an academic and privileged environment. She had been adopted by her step-father, Cornelius Vanderbilt Crane, who, in addition to being an explorer and archaeologist, was the head of the Connecticut-based Crane Company.

Young Cornelius Chase was an apparent handful. After being kicked out of the exclusive Riverdale School on the Upper West Side, he was sent to a boarding school in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Cornelius rarely used his given name, being known instead by the nickname his grandmother gave him, "Chevy."  Beginning around 1967 he embarked on an acting and comedy career and Chevy Chase would become a household name after the debut of Saturday Night Live in October 1975.

The charming rowhouse never underwent a conversion to apartments. Just before the turn of the century it became home to Rev. Diane Ryoko Shainberg.  Rev. Shainberg established the Carnegie Hill Zen Center in the house, primarily meeting once a week. The 2000 book The Buddhist Guide to New York explained "the participants sit for two periods of meditation, listen to a sermon from Diane, and hold discussions with each other. Once a month there are full-day sittings, as well as another entire day a month devoted to ZPO [Zen Peacemaker Order] sitting, coordinating, and Bearing Witness activities."

photographs by the author

The Queen Anne Holdout at No. 406 West 52nd Street

In 1861 nine-year old Adam Huston came to New York from County Derry, Ireland, with his parents.  At the time the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood had filled with poor Irish immigrants who had fled the Irish Potato Famine and were attracted by work on the docks and Hudson River railroad.  Another Irishman, John Cassidy lived there in a two-story wooden house and store at No. 406 West 52^nd Street.  Cassidy, a native of Slane, County Meath, died in the house on Thursday, November 4, 1869 of typhoid fever.

In the meantime, Adam Huston attended public schools.  He then went immediately into the plumbing business and, according to A Standard History of Freemasonry years later, applied “himself with determination to learn all its details, and succeeded so well that it was not long before he was recognized as being ‘as good as a journeyman.’”

Adam Huston -- The Plumbers' Trade Journal, 1907 (copyright expired

In fact, he was so successful that in 1882 he partnered with another Irish-born plumber, James R. Corbitt, to form Huston & Corbitt Co.  Within five years the men had established their firm as one of the leading plumbing contractors in the city, and laid plans to construct their own business building.

On December 28, 1887 they took title to the old frame house and store once home to John Cassidy.  Despite the gritty neighborhood, the property cost the plumbers $5,000—about $130,000 in 2016.  They commissioned architect C. Abbott French to design a multi-purpose building on the site; one both commercial and residential.

C. Abbott French & Co. was responsible for scores of rowhouses and other buildings in Manhattan.  Earlier that year French had designed a remarkable row of 12 Queen Anne style residences on East 95^th Street.  For Huston and Corbitt the architect turned to the same style on a less grand scale.

C. Abbott French filed plans on January 27, 1888 calling for a brick “dwelling and store” at a cost of $12,000.  The delightful structure was completed within the year—five stories of brick, iron and terra cotta like nothing else in the neighborhood.   Huston & Corbitt Co. would operate from the ground floor “store” space; while the upper floors were residential, including one two-story apartment. 

French’s design had striking similarities to architect C. P. H. Gilbert’s four-story apartment house at No. 348 West 23^rd Street completed about a year earlier.  A three-story angled bay of pressed metal included rope-twist colonnettes, a panel of honeycomb design and one of scattered nubs, leaded transoms, and a foliate cornice influenced by the Aesthetic Movement.   Atop the bay a delicate, lacy cast iron cresting sat like a diadem.  French saved Huston & Corbitt money by executing much of the decorative detail in brick.   At the top floor, for instance, he repeated the honeycomb motif, created a corbel table and a layered cornice all in brick.  A whimsical false gable in cast metal at this level provided a cottage-like feel.

A slathering of paint disguises details like the stone keystone and bands, now barely discernible.

Before long the relationship between Huston and Corbitt moved from professional to familial.  On April 30, 1889 Adam Huston married Annie Corbitt and the newlyweds moved into the two-story apartment at No. 406 West 52^nd Street.  Rather surprisingly, C. Abbott French also lived in the building until around 1904; and William Truitt Godfrey, a notary public, was here at least from 1896 through 1900.

The firm's advertisement in the 1893 Catalogue of Exhibition for the Architectural League of New York was exceptionally understated.  (copyright expired)

Huston & Corbitt Co. continued to thrive.  In 1901 the company was awarded the contract to install the plumbing in the huge Ardsley Hall apartment building on Central Park West and 92^nd Street.  Interestingly, an inspection by the State of New York that year showed only three full time employees—the third most likely was a bookkeeper or other office worker.  The army of plumbers it would take to fulfill a project like the Ardsley Hall commission were apparently hired as contract workers.

By 1906 Adam and Annie Huston had four children—Mabel, Walter, Ethel and Amy.  One of the upstairs apartments was now being rented by Dr. Alan G. Terrell and his wife, Estelle.  But things in the Terrell household were not going as well as within the Huston family.

In 1906 Estelle sued Alan for divorce through lawyer George W. Case.  Case was a personal friend of both parties.  The doctor felt divorce was unnecessary and that things could be worked out.  He went to Case’s office at No. 35 Nassau Street, and asked him to arrange for a meeting with his wife.

Estelle never showed up at the arranged appointment.  Later, Case told Dr. Terrell that “his conduct had been such that he could not advise any reconciliation.”

Confused, Alan Terrell became suspicious and had Estelle followed.  He discovered that she and George Case were spending “most of their time together.”   On August 21, 1906 Dr. Alan Terrell filed a counter suit for divorce, as well as a $50,000 suit against George W. Case for alienating his wife’s affections.  The hefty amount for damages would be equal to about $1.4 million today.

The rusticated cast iron piers are all that survive of the original shop space.

On Wednesday, October 2, 1907, Adam Huston began feeling ill.  Within an hour and a half the 55-year old was dead from pneumonia.  His funeral was held at No. 406 West 52^nd Street three days later.  In reporting his death, The Plumbers Trade Journal called him “one of the old-time master plumbers.”

Annie and the children remained in the building for at least a few years.  Mable received her training license as a school teacher in 1909.  And James R. Corbitt continued to operate Huston & Corbitt Co. from here under the old name, at least through 1918.

But by 1923 both the Huston family and the plumbing business were gone.  That year the Prescott Realty Company sold the building to an investor.  It was described at the time as a “five-story tenement.”

In 1929 architects Van Wart & Wein were hired to connect the building internally with No. 771 Ninth Avenue.  Simultaneously the second floor was converted to an office for the ground level store, and the third and fourth floors to a single “housekeeping apartment” (meaning there was a kitchen included).  The top floor became furnished rooms.

The apartments were divided in 1959 to two per floor, including the fifth floor.   It was most likely around this time that S. Wolf opened his paint and wallpaper store in the old Huston & Corbitt Co. space.

The paint store continues to operate at No. 771 Ninth Avenue.  But in 2011 the Department of Buildings closed No. 406 West 52^nd Street for building violations.  Now vised between unexciting modern brick buildings, its survival was a fluke, resulting from the mid-century connection to the Ninth Avenue building.  Today C. Abott French’s Queen Anne relic is painted barn red; yet its delightful design is mostly intact.

photographs by the author

The Moses Baumgarten House -- 136 East 95th Street

On January 29, 1887, the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported, “William J. and John P. C. Walsh intend to erect twelve homes on the south side of Ninety-fifth street, 100 feet east of Fourth avenue, from plans by C. Abbot French.”  The newspaper added that they would be “Queen Anne private residences.”

Since the opening of the Second and Third Avenue elevated trains a decade earlier, development in the area had burgeoned.  The Walsh brothers would get into the act with their dozen upscale homes which stretched from 116 to 138 East 95^th Street.  The men may have slightly overextended themselves, for while the homes were under construction in October 1887, they took out a six-month $10,000 mortgage with M. C. Henry & Co. intended to “secure building materials.”

The houses were completed in 1888.  C. Abbott French’s picturesque row was a visual delight of Queen Anne oriels, quirky openings and terra cotta ornaments.  No two homes were exactly alike, yet they worked together to form a pleasing whole.

Buyers began to take interest, but not quickly enough for the Walsh brothers.  There was the issue of that $10,000 loan.  On November 30, 1889, the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide noted that two of the homes, Nos. 136 and 138, were taken in foreclosure by Matthew C. Henry and his partners, Joseph A. Weeks, Jr. and John Gaynor.  It was a fortuitious turn of events for them—the two vacant houses were valued at $14,000 each.

Nevertheless, it would be a year and a half before M. C. Henry & Co. found a buyer for No. 136.  On June 30, 1891, Moses Baumgarten purchased the house for $17,500—about $470,000 in 2015 dollars.

The 18-foot-wide house was faced in yellow brick.  A stone, dog-legged stoop rose to the parlor floor.  The second floor was dominated by a massive arched opening, its keystone sprouting the base of a Juliette balcony.  On either side somber faces stared down from large terra cotta medallions.  Above it all was a Flemish stepped gable, supported by a brick corbels.

The Baumgarten family was well respected and well-to-do.  Moses owned a successful bakery and dabbled in real estate.  He and his wife, the former Louisa Schlossheimer, were married in 1872 and had three children, Benjamin, Rae and Carrie.  Their place in Jewish society was highlighted when Rae married Adolph Levy on November 9, 1897.

The New York Times reported, “A wedding that aroused considerable interest in Hebrew social circles was that of Miss Ray [sic] Baumgarten…and Adolph Levy of this city, which took place in the Madison Square Garden Concert Hall.”  A reception dinner for 250 guests followed.

The Baumgartens remained in the house at least through 1919, before selling to Gustave Dauer.  Incidentally, while Moses Baumgarten died in 1929, Louisa lived until 1958 having reached the age of 104.

Dauer resold No. 136 to Isaac Cohen in 1921, who made “alterations.”  It may have been at this time that the stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to the basement level. 

An iron railing most likely finished the tiny balcony at the third floor.

By the late 1920s, it was home to the family of trial lawyer Albert Stickney.  Daughter Elizabeth Weston Stickney was educated in the prestigious Chapin School and was a member of the Junior League. 

On March 12, 1929, the Stickneys announced Elizabeth’s engagement to investment broker William Ogden McCagg.  The McCagg family had homes in New York and Newport, and William (he would later be known as W. Ogden McCagg) had attended St. George’s School in Newport.

W. Ogden McCagg was initially employed by the brokerage firm of Winslow, Lanier & Co., then worked several employers through World War II.  The couple's son, William Jr. would become well known as a historian and educator, focusing on Central and Eastern Europe.  In June 1940, the McCaggs purchased the 95^th Street house “for cash” according to the New York Times.  The newspaper noted “The house has a dining room opening onto a private garden and will be altered.”

In 1946, the McCaggs moved to Providence, Rhode Island, selling the 95^th Street house to Francis Adams Truslow.  The 40-year-old had returned the year before from Brazil where he had headed the Rubber Reserve Company, a U.S. Government agency set up, according to The New York Times, “to exploit South American rubber production to make up for the severe losses to the Allies in this field when the Japanese overran Southeastern Asia.”

Truslow and his wife, the former Elizabeth A. Jennings, had four children.  They maintained a summer estate in Cold Springs Harbor, Long Island.  In December 1946, five months after moving into the house, he was elected President of the New York Curb Exchange. 

Francis Truslow was as well known for his athletic and outdoors activities, as in his diplomatic and professional skills.   The New York Times later said of him, “besides being a mountain climber, fisherman and skier, [he] was interested in carpentry, photography and book collecting.”

The family closed the 95^th Street house on July 1, 1951 as they boarded the liner Argentina headed for Rio de Janeiro.  Truslow had been appointed head of the United States-Brazil Joint Commission for Economic Development by President Truman. Francis Truslow would never make it to South America.  Eight days into the voyage Elizabeth found her husband dead in their cabin.  The athletic 45-year-old had died in his sleep.

No. 136 East 95^th Street continued to be a single family residence, becoming home to Robert Yost Hinshaw and his wife Lillias.  Hinshaw was a public relations executive and consultant.  The religious dynamic of the Hinshaw household was interesting.  Robert was a Quaker.  And Lilias (who, incidentally, was the daughter of John Foster Dulles, Secretary of State) was graduated from the Union Theological Seminary in 1958 as a Presbyterian minister.

The Hinshaws had four children—two sons and two daughters.  Daughter Janet met and married Hyon Yoo while she was studying at Columbia University.  Yoo, 22-years-old, landed a job as Professor of Economics at Seoul University in 1959.  He moved to Korea and Janet, pregnant with their first child, planned to join him later.

Janet moved into the East 95^th Street house with her parents and in January 1960 gave birth to David Hinshaw Yoo.  By December, little David was old enough to undertake the long trip to Korea to join the father who had never met him.

After midnight on December 2, just two days before Janet and her son were to depart, she put the baby in his crib.  Because of a chill in the room, she placed an electric blanket over him.  At around 10:45 she checked him and, according to The New York Times, “she saw something was wrong and called for her father who telephoned for an ambulance.”

Tragically, little David Yoo was dead.  Chief Medical Examiner Milton Helpern performed an autopsy and said “that burns had been found.”

In 1968, the Hinshaws moved to Ithaca, New York.  The house remained little changed throughout the rest of the 20^th century.  In 2014 it was sold for $5.8 to “a couple that plans to renovate it for their own use,” according to NY Curbed on September 2, which added, “Hopefully they don’t go too modern with it, because if that façade is any indication there are some nice details lurking inside.”

photographs by the author