The Mori Restaurant Building - 144-146 Bleecker Street

 

In 1830, Thomas E. Davis began erecting what would be fashionable homes on both sides of Bleecker Street between Thompson and Laurens Street (later West Broadway and then LaGuardia Place).  As they neared completion in 1831, he began a similar project, lining both sides of East 8th Street between Second and Third Avenues with upscale residences.  A consummate marketer, he lobbied the city to rename the two blocks, hoping to enhance their sense of exclusivity.  In 1833 his Bleecker Street block was renamed Carroll Place, and in 1835 the East 8th Street block became St. Mark's Place.

Each of the Carroll Place homes was 25-feet wide and three-and-a-half stories tall.  In February 1833, just before 146 Bleecker Street was renumbered 7 Carroll Place, an advertisement in The Evening Post offered the house for rent:

The house was erected in 1830, in the most elegant and substantial manner, and is three stories high, of brick and slated roof.  There is a building in the rear containing a tea room and library, and a well and cistern in the yard.  The house is every way calculated for a large and fashionable private family.

That house saw a relatively rapid turnover in well-to-do tenants until it was sold for $10,000 to Dr. William R. Power in January 1845.  The price, equal to about $430,000 in 2026, reflected the exclusivity of the block.

Power was born in Ireland in 1798 and was described as a "distinguished practitioner."  His wife, the former Mercy Hepburn, had recently died and his purchasing of 7 Carroll Place might have had much do to with his marital plans.  He married Aliana Diane Worthington in 1846.

Although William had no children with either of his wives, in 1857 lawyer John T. Power was listed at the address.  He was presumably a relative.

William R. Power died "after a short but severe illness," according to the New-York Daily Tribune, on September 14, 1858.  His funeral was held in the parlor on the 16th.

Aliana Power left Carroll Place shortly afterward.  An auction of the furnishings held on March 8, 1859, hinted at the high-end lifestyles of the Carroll Place residents.  Included were "rosewood parlor suits, covered in rich silk brocatel and plush...Chinese china vases, chandeliers, sideboard, morocco arm chairs," and such.

In the meantime, the house next door at 5 Carroll Street was originally home to the Henry Floyd Tallmage family.  Born in Connecticut on June 11, 1787, he and his wife, Maria Canfield Adams, had five children.   The family sold the house to Dr. John Augustine Smith on April 15, 1841.

Born in 1782, Smith had served as president of the College of William & Mary from 1814 to 1826.  (He resigned when his proposal to move the college from Richmond to Williamsburg was refused.)  Now back in New York City, he became president of the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1831.

Dr. John Augustine Smith, from the collection of the New York Society Library

Smith married Lettice Lee in 1809 and they had five children, at least one of whom, Richard Augustine (who went by his middle name), lived with his parents.  Augustine was in the paper business on Nassau Street.

In addition to his practice and his lecturing on anatomy at the College of Physicians and Surgeons, Dr. Smith edited the Medical and Physiological Journal.  Among his works were the 1840 Select Discourse on the Functions of the Nervous System, his 1846 The Mutations of the Earth, and Moral and Physical Science, published in 1853.  Notably, he was an outspoken supporter of scientific racism, that used phrenology (the "science" of reading bumps on one's skull) to rationalize white supremacy.  He was a vocal exponent of repatriating Blacks to Africa. 

By the outbreak of the Civil War, things had changed in the neighborhood.  No longer ultra-fashionable, affluent residents left Carroll Place and in 1860 the block reverted to Bleecker Street (although both addresses would be used for some time).  In 1861, rented rooms were being offered in both 144 and 146 Bleecker Street.

In 1870, Thomas N. and William B. Doutney established an "eatinghouse," The St. Lawrence, in the basement of 144 Bleecker Street.   Unfortunately, as Thomas recalls in his 1893 autobiography Thomas N. Doutney: His Life-Struggle and Triumphs:

I listened to the bad advice of a dissolute companion, and introduced liquor on my premises, first secretly, then openly, as an article of traffic.  In short, my restaurant became, what too many restaurants already are, a drinking-saloon, a cursed rum-shop.

Thomas and his "dear, good brother William," lost the business.  The saloon was taken over by Korne & Bere.  

In the meantime, the conditions within the rented rooms of the once-luxurious mansions were ghastly.  An article in the New York Herald on February 7, 1871 described the plight of a "woman and five little children at No. 144 Bleecker street."  The journalist said, "No food or fuel has been seen in the little room which these miserable ones occupy for several days, and yesterday the mother, rendered desperate, attempted suicide."

On July 20, 1896, the New York Journal reported, "Women, some of them wives and mothers, who had been caught in the raid on the pool room [an illegal race betting den] at No. 146 Bleecker street, Saturday night, were prisoners in the Jefferson Market Court yesterday."  Prior to the time of the article, the parlor windows of the house had been replaced by bay windows, as noted in a sketch in the article.

In 1896, an illegal betting den occupied the basement of 146 Bleecker.  The elegant Federal doorway was intact, and bay windows had been added, most likely prior to 1861.  New York Journal, July 20, 1896 (copyright expired)

In 1884, a year after arriving in New York City from Florence, Italy, Placido Mori opened his "eating place" in the former Korne & Bere saloon space in 144 Bleecker Street.  The Journal described Mori & Lorenzi's cafe in 1896 as "a cheap restaurant and drinking place much frequented by the Italians of the district."

It became a meeting place for labor and political groups.  On November 24, 1891, for instance, The Evening World remarked, "The Columbus Labor Club, cloak makers...has its headquarters at present at 144 Bleecker street."  On October 27, 1898, the Third Assembly District Republicans held an "Italian parade through the Italian colony and a meeting at 144 Bleecker street," as reported by The Sun.

In November 1900, authorities refused to allow the play Senza Patria (or Without a Country), written by anarchist Pietro Gori, to open.  Throngs of angry native Italians, many of them anarchists, rebelled.  The New York Times reported, "The Anarchists then held an impromptu indignation meeting on the sidewalk, and then several hundred went to Mori & Lorenzi's café, 144 Bleecker Street, which was by common consent designated as a meeting place."

No. 144 was sold several times before Mori purchased the building in 1910.  The Italian immigrant had done well for himself.  On April 23, 1920, the New York Herald reported, "Placido Mori is the buyer of the residence at 21 Washington Square North."  It was one of the most fashionable addresses in New York City.

Among Mori's regular patrons at the time was architect Raymond Hood.  Their close owner-patron relationship would soon become owner-client.  On December 12, 1920, The New York Times reported that Placido Mori "recently bought the adjoining parcel at 146 to add to his establishment.  The article mulled, "The supporters of prohibition may discern in this fact that the prevention of serving red wine, without which no Italian restaurant meal was supposed to be complete...has not yet driven the habitués of these eating places to other resorts."

Mori hired Raymond Hood to combine the houses and remodel the exterior.  He placed a row of Doric columns along the sidewalk level and added a setback penthouse.

Famed photographer Berenice Abbott took this photograph in November 1935.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The observation made by The New York Times that Prohibition had not affected the Italian restaurant was premature.  As it turned out, Mori went on dispensing alcoholic beverages.  On September 16, 1922, the newspaper reported that Prohibition Chief John D. Appleby "sent seven general dry agents yesterday afternoon to Mori's Restaurant."

In the room in the rear of the second floor the agents seized a large quantity of liquors, wines and beer.  The agents said they never saw a more sorrowful staff of waiters than they passed in the dining room as the seized goods were carried out.  The sight of good wines leaving the restaurant, famous in the days gone by for its wine, was more than some of the waiters could stand.

Only four months later, on January 15, 1923, The New York Times reported on another raid.  After seizing 58 bottles of wine and ten bottles of whisky, Placido Mori was arrested.  The article said that police "then went upstairs to the apartment of Louis Funai...from which they took away 18 bottles of champagne, 247 bottles of wine, 15 bottles of gin, 4 bottles of kimmel [sic] and one gallon of wine."

Placido Mori died on July 18, 1927.  In reporting his death, The New York Times remarked that his restaurant "had become noted as a picturesque resort."

Living upstairs at the time was sculptor Thomas Hudson Jones.  He and architect Lorimer Rich were cooperatively working on designs for the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington.  Jones was still living here in December 1928 when Secretary of War Dwight F. Davis announced that their design had been accepted.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Albert Mori operated the restaurant until January 1938, when he filed for bankruptcy.  The New York Times remarked, "The restaurant started as a small bar and eating place.  It expanded until it finally occupied the entire building, a rambling, old-fashioned structure."

The space became Free World House as early as 1944, operated by the International Free World Association.  On June 4, 1944, the group announced that a program of "democratic principles for Europe" would be put into effect "as soon as the Allied armies invade the continent."  A less political event had taken place a month earlier when, on May 28, The New York Times reported, "The second open show of the Village Art Center is current[ly] at Free World House...with more than a hundred oils, water-colors and drawings, by almost as many artists."

It was possibly during the occupancy of the anti-Fascist International Free World Association that five murals by Louis Quintanilla were installed.  Quintanilla arrived in New York in 1938 to create his grouping, called Love Peace Hate War.  (Somewhat ironically, he was the house guest of war correspondent Jay Allen in Placido Mori's former home on Washington Square.)  The paintings were commissioned by the Spanish Government for the Spanish Pavilion of the 1939 World's Fair.  The individual panels were Flight, Pain, Hunger, Soldiers and Destruction.

But the artwork would never be exhibited at the fair.  The Spanish Republic fell and the Fascist Francisco Franco regime demanded that the paintings be returned to Spain.  Reportedly, Quintanilla told officials that a flood in his studio had destroyed the panels.  It appears that he sold or donated the works to the Free World House.

Quintanilla's Hunger (top) and Soldiers, were two of the panels installed at Free World House.  images from The Art and World of Louis Quintanilla

The Free World House remained here until 1956, when the building was converted to the Renata Theatre in the lower two floors and apartments and offices on the top two.  As construction neared completion on November 14, 1956, The New York Times explained that the venue would present "contemporary European plays."  The auditorium would hold an audience of 250.

Among the last performances in the Renata Theatre was a one-person production, An Evening With Ethel Waters, described by The New York Times on April 9, 1959 as a "musical memory."

from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Within a year, the space had been converted to a movie theater, the Bleecker Street Cinema.  It was a neighborhood fixture for decades, finally closing in August 1989.  On November 4 the following year, The New York Times columnist Christopher Gray mentioned, "It is now a gay porno house."

It was during that rather seedy period that the Quintanilla murals were "rediscovered."  On one of the panels, a black arrow reading "Exit" had been scrawled.  According to the artist's son, Paul, "In the early nineties an attempt was made to retrieve them, but the amount of money offered didn't satisfy the owner of the pornographic movie house."  The paintings, therefore, remained in abused condition until February 2, 2007 when the University of Cantabria in Santander, Spain purchased them.  They were restored and now hang at the university. 

The ground floor space became the Elbow Room around 1997.  Offering live music, it remained into the 2000s.  A renovation to the storied building in 2011 resulted in retail space on the ground floor and apartments above.

photographs by the author

The 1826 Abraham B. Vanderpoel House - 38 Dominick Street

 

photo via New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission

In 1821 the by-then fetid canal, originally established to drain the swampy Lispenard Meadow, was covered over, creating Canal Street.  Quickly afterward, streets to the north opened and development began.  Among the first streets to open was Dominick Street, named in honor of George Dominick who fled France in the mid-18th century and became a vestryman of Trinity Church and a captain of the militia.

The new street sat upon land owned by Sarah Livingston, the wife of Robert Livingston.  She had inherited it from her grandfather, Anthony Lispenard.  On March 10, 1826, she sold 12 vacant lots along Dominick Street to Smith Bloomfield who filled them with prim, two-and-a-half story brick-faced homes.  

Among them was 39 Dominick Street.  (Confusingly and inexplicably, the odd and even street numbers were flipped in 1867, and No. 39 got the new address of 38.)  Like its neighbors, its Federal design included a doorway flanked by fluted wooden columns, narrow sidelights and a generous transom.  Two dormers pierced the peaked roof.

Abraham Barent Vanderpoel moved his family into the house in 1827, apparently renting from Bloomfield.  Born in 1788, he listed his profession as "custom house officer."  He and his wife, the former Harriet Goodwin, would have three children: Mary Vanburen, Sarah and Barent. 

The Vanderpoels left the house around 1835, initiating a series of occupants.  Dry goods merchant James L. Brinckerhoff was here in 1836, followed by Isaac N. Seymour and his family by 1840.  Seymour was the treasurer of the Delaware & Hudson Canal Company.  The family remained through 1858.

Abby J. Gorham, a widow, moved into the house in 1859 with her son Shabael C. Gorham.  The family had deep American roots, tracing their origins to John de Gorram who arrived on the Mayflower.  Never married, Shabael died at the age of 41 on November 23, 1861.  The New York Times noted, "Funeral services will be held at the house of his mother, No. 39 Dominick-st., on Monday."

The family of fish dealer Samuel H. Wood occupied the house from 1863 until 1867.  On February 23 that year an announcement in the New-York Tribune reported that the property "now known as No. 38 in Dominick street" would be auctioned.  It was purchased by Samuel Giveans Trusdell.

Trusdell was a partner in the coffee business Trusdell & Phelps.  He married Phebe Jane Edsall in 1863.  Born in 1835 and 1840, respectively, they would have one child, Samuel Edsall, who was born in the house in 1868.

The family would remain here for decades, taking in at least one boarder over the years.  Katie E. Moore lived with the Trusdells in 1884.  She was a teacher in the primary department of Grammar School No. 10 on Wooster Street.

In 1886, the home's Federal architecture was decidedly passé.  On April 3, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported that Phebe (who was the owner of record) had hired architects and builders J. Hankinson's Son to raise the attic to a full story.  The renovations cost the Trusdells $1,100, or about $37,800 in 2026.  Interestingly, while the contractors gave the remodeled house a fashionable Italianate cornice, it did not touch the vintage doorway.

As late as 1940, the doorway, with its slender columns, was essentially unchanged since 1826.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Samuel Edsall Trusdell died at the age of 28 on April 29, 1896.  His father survived him by four years, dying in the Dominick Street house on December 27, 1900 at the age of 65.  

It is unclear how long Phebe, who died in 1926, remained here.  In 1929, George Tombini leased 38 Dominick Street, and by 1940 the Campone and De Sapio families shared the house.

It was well-filled.  Pasquale Campone and his wife, Antonette, had five children, Rose, Pasquaela, Doris, Betty and Anthony.  Gerard De Sapio was married to Antonette's sister, Marinetta.  An Italian immigrant, he owned a trucking business.  The couple had two sons.

Anthony Capone was born in 1914.  He worked as a shipping clerk for the Equitable Trading Corporation, a wholesale liquor distributor on Hudson Street.  In 1936 he and eight other employees devised a scheme to augment their salaries.  It worked for several years, but then on July 13, 1940, The New York Times reported that the group had been arrested for the theft of "about $50,000 of liquors from the concern in the last four years."

Anthony's cousin would make a name for himself in New York politics.  Born on December 10, 1908, Carmine Gerard De Sapio attended St. Alphonsus parochial school and briefly attended Fordham College.  He often loaded freight at his father's business.  While in his teens, he contracted iritis, an inflammation of the eyes.  It necessitated his wearing dark glasses for the rest of his life, and they became his trademark.

The teen became involved with the Daniel Finn's Huron Club in Greenwich Village.  It was a center of Tammany power within the district.  De Sapio became Finn's "lieutenant."   By 1937, he had amassed enough power within Tammany to organize the Tamawa Club, challenging Finn's leadership in the district.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Carmine De Sapio married Theresa Natale in 1937 and he moved out of 38 Dominick Street.  By 1949 he was the "boss" of Tammany Hall.  His downfall came in the 1960s when, according to The New York Times, "Denounced as corrupt and authoritarian, he was abandoned by onetime allies."  In 1969 he was sent to prison, convicted of bribery charges.

In 1954, the Capone and De Sapio families converted the ground floor to a restaurant.  When Marinetta De Sapio died at the age of 76 on October 25, 1965, The New York Times remarked that she had lived "for many years at 38 Dominick Street."

Around 1987, the restaurant space became Sagebrush Canyon, which featured live jazz music.  By then, the ground floor windows had been replaced by a single opening.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The restaurant Alison on Dominick Street opened in 1990, its atmosphere described by The New York Times as "harmonious and comfortable and the soft lighting very seductive."  It remained until 2002.

The four 1826 houses were considered for landmark designation in 2012.  No. 38 is at the right.  photograph by Jason Kessler

A renovation completed in 2010 returned 38 Dominick Street to a single family home.  As a nod to the now lost Federal-style doorway, two disproportionate Ionic columns were shoehorned into the entrance.  Today its entablature is inscribed "Post Modern" in Greek lettering.

photograph by Jason Kessler

It and the other three remaining houses of Smith Bloomfield's 1826 row were considered by the Landmark Preservation Commission for landmark designation in May 2012.  The owners of No. 38 strongly testified against its designation, citing the drastic alterations to the nearly 200-year-old building.  The LPC agreed and only 32 to 36 Dominick Street were given landmark status.

many thanks to reader Jason Kessler for suggesting this post

The Lost Julius W. Tiemann House - 2648 Broadway

 

When Herman Newell Tiemann (son of Julius) took this photograph in 1901, the end of venerable house was near.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

Sprawling summer estates dotted the upper portion of Manhattan Island in the 18th century.  Others were established following the Revolution, like that of Archibald Gracie on the East Side, begun in 1798.  Around the same time, a dignified, two-story frame country house was erected on the Bloomingdale Road far north of the city.  Its Federal style architecture included a raised basement, columned veranda, and an octagonal cupula atop the slightly hipped roof.

An advertisement in the New York Herald on September 19, 1854 read:

To Let--A large house and four acres of land, on Bloomingdale road, between 100th and 101st streets, and possession given immediately.

The tenant filled the house with elegant furnishings.  When the family moved out in April 1868, an auction was held of "all the magnificent household furniture in the mansion," as worded by the announcement.  Among the items were "rich rosewood and walnut Chamber [i.e. bedroom] and Parlor suits; Velvet and Brussels Carpets, Pier Mirrors, rosewood Piano," and such.

At the time of the ad, Julius William Tiemann was a partner in in D. F. Tiemann & Co., founded by his father Johan Anton (known as Anthony) Tiemann in 1807.  The firm operated the Manhattan Paint & Color Works near the Hudson River around 120th Street.  Born in 1817, Tiemann grew up in the family's town house at 40 East 23rd Street and in their summer home in Manhattanville, which was not far from the plant.

The Illustrated American Biograph, 1852 (copyright expired)

Julius W. Tiemann married Marie Antoinette Megie on March 28, 1860.  The couple would have 12 children.  Tiemann purchased the Bloomingdale Road estate while retaining their town home at 125 West 43rd Street.

Outside of the paint business, Tiemann was highly involved in civic affairs.  He was, for instance, the president of the Twenty-second Ward Council of Political Reform in 1871.  In August 1881, he co-founded The Drug, Paint and Chemical Exchange, described by New Remedies as "a new organization in this city to facilitate the business of these allied industries."

By the mid-1890s, the Tiemann's residence that once sat upon four acres was surrounded by business and residential buildings.  Around 1896, Tiemann sold the property to N. Reynal, who lived in White Plains, New York.  He converted the house to The Arbor, an inn and meeting place. 

The Arbor was the gathering spot for political dinners and meetings.  On October 30, 1899, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported that the Independent Club of the 21st District would hold a dinner that night.  The New York Times noted, "The Rev. Dr. John P. Peters, pastor of St. Michael's Episcopal Church, and Acting President of the Club, presided."  The location was highly convenient to Reverend Peters, since he listed his address here, apparently renting rooms upstairs.  (The same year that that dinner was held, the former Bloomingdale Road was renamed Broadway and The Arbor received the address of 2648 Broadway.)

Decades after the Tiemann house was demolished, filmmaker Stanley Kubrick painted a romanticized conception.  This black-and-white depiction was published in Look magazine's article "Art by Celebrities."  via the Museum of the City of New York.

Other organizations that used The Arbor as their headquarters were The Speakers' Club and The Citizens' Union.  When the latter held its convention on October 1, 1901, The New York Times remarked that it "was held at 'The Arbor,' 2,648 Broadway.  There were about sixty delegates present, and reporters were barred."

The end of the line for the venerable house came in 1907.  On January 9, The New York Times reported that the Franklin Building Company had leased the blockfront on the "east side of Broadway, between 100th and 101st Streets" for 21 years.  The newly formed company "will erect stores and offices on the Broadway front and a garage on the remainder of the plot" on the site, said the article.

Those resultant structures were apparently what were known as "taxpayers"--most often low rise, temporary buildings erected to garner enough rental income to pay the property taxes.  They were demolished in 1925 and replaced with a 15-story and penthouse apartment building.

The Lost William Devoe House - 84 Carmine Street

 

The extension of Seventh Avenue resulted in a chamfered corner.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society.

Construction of the new Trinity Church was completed in 1790.  It replaced the 1697 original that was burned during the Revolution.  Historian Martha Lamb, in her 1877 History of the City of New York, noted that among the vestrymen who resolved "to set apart a pew in Trinity Church for the President" on March 8, 1790, was Nicholas Carman.  

Carman owned a large amount of land north of the city.  Three decades after he signed that resolution, streets were laid out on his property, one of which was named Carmine street, named for him despite the misspelling.  As early as 1827, Federal style homes were being erected along Carmine Street.  

Typical of them was 84 Carmine Street a two-and-a-half story, brick-faced house.  Twenty-feet wide, its entrance above a two-step porch most likely had narrow leaded sidelights and a transom.  Piercing the peaked roof were two dormers in the front and one in the rear.  The muntins of their round-arched windows created elegant, interlocking pointed arches.

As early as 1851, William H. Devoe and his wife, the former Susanna Hadden, occupied 84 Carmine Street.  Devoe was a principal in Devoe & Taylor, shipjoiners.  (Shipjoiners employed skilled craftsmen to manufacture the interior finished carpentry of vessels--like the cabinetry of staterooms, cabins, and such.)  

Living with the couple was Susanna's widowed mother, Catherine Hadden.  They rented unused rooms, as well.  An advertisement in the New-York Tribune on February 24, 1852 read, "To Let--The upper part of the House No. 84 Carmine-st.  Apply from 11 A.M. to 3 P.M.  Rent $160."  (The figure would translate to about $550 per month in 2026.)

The Haddens' tenants in 1851 were Albert Weber and his wife.  Weber was a well-known pianomaker on West Broadway.  The following year, August H. and Harriet N. Poe moved in.  Tragically, on Christmas morning that year, their only son, Charles Augustus, died.  His funeral was held in the house the following afternoon.

A son, William H. Devoe Jr., was born here on June 3, 1853.  

Catharine Hadden died at the age of 69 on September 21 "after a short illness," according to the New York Daily Herald.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on the morning of the 23rd. 

It might be that Catharine was the only musician in the family.  A week before her death, an advertisement in the New York Daily Herald read:

Great Sacrifice--An exceedingly fine-toned rosewood pianoforte, not three months used and fully warranted, with stool and cover, will be disposed of at an immense sacrifice, at 84 Carmine street, (on the Sixth avenue railroad).

(The Sixth Avenue streetcar was the closest public transportation at the time.  Varick Street ended at Houston Street and Hudson Street did not have a streetcar line.)

There would soon be another funeral in the house.  Little William H. Devoe Jr. died on November 22, 1855 at two years old.

The Devoes left Carmine Street around 1858, and their former home became a boarding house.  Living here that year were John H. Cooke, who listed his profession as "segars;" seaman Lewis Turin; and a newly-arrived woman from France.  She advertised on April 25, 1858:

A Parisian lady, having great experience in teaching her language, wants a few more scholars for private lessons.  Terms moderate.  Inquire at 84 Carmine street, near Varick.

The Moses Sammis family moved into the house in 1860.  Born in 1819, he and his wife, the former Harriet Anna Crocker, had nine sons and a daughter.  Son Clark Sammis would recall to the Brooklyn Eagle in 1909 that at the time of his parents' marriage, Moses "was known through Brooklyn in the old days as Colonel M. Sammis, and the product of the marriage was a very large family."

Moses Sammis's brothers were well-known in theatrical circles.  William and George were theatrical managers (George was the manager of the Grand Opera House).  Moses, on the other hand, took a more civic job.  He was a letter carrier when the family moved into 84 Carmine Street, and by 1864 he was a tax collector for the city.  

The parlor was yet again the scene of a funeral on February 21, 1864.  Three days earlier, Jay J. Sammis, the youngest son of Moses and Harriet, had died at the age of four.  Later that same year, the Sammis family moved to Brooklyn.

Perhaps because 84 Carmine Street was relatively remote from major streets, its parlor floor was not converted to a shop.  Owner John Flanagan leased the house.  Printer George Gregory and his family lived here from 1868 to '69, followed by another printer, Peter Vanbeuren.  Flanagan's tenants continued to rent unneeded space.  An advertisement in the New York Daily Herald on April 12, 1868 offered, "Furnished comfortable attic room to let--For one or two gentlemen or a single lady, for light housekeeping."

The advertisement was telling.  Because the attic was now being rented, the families obviously no longer had a live-in servant.  And offering a room to an unmarried lady was shocking at the time. It suggests that the neighborhood was already declining.

Joseph Lamb and his family moved in in 1873.  Lamb was in the furniture business with locations at 59 Carmine Street and 223 West Houston.  He was a partner with Richard Lamb, presumably a brother.  In 1878, son Frederick William Lamb was enrolled in the City College of New York.

While the previous tenants did not have a servant, the Lambs did.  An advertisement on May 20, 1880, read, "Wanted--A girl to do general housework in a private family; must be willing to go in the country; wages $12 per month."  (The monthly salary would equal $380 today.  And the mention of going to the country disclosed that the Lambs maintained a summer home.)

John Flanagan sold the house at auction on November 23, 1885 for $9,300 (about $313,000 today).  The ground floor became home to the Saint Bartholomew's Hospital and Dispensary following its incorporation in December 1888.  Its presence reflected the changes within the Greenwich Village neighborhood.  In its January 26, 1889 issue, The Medical Record reported that the dispensary provided "the free treatment of the diseases of the genito-urinary organs, both venereal and non-venereal, and of the skin."

The house was sold again in November 1898.  Mrs. Delli Fitzsimmons, who leased it in May 1904, operated it as a rooming house.  The following year, on December 1, 1905, the New-York Tribune reported that the tenants "were thrown into a panic last night when fire broke out in the cellar and filled the building with smoke."  Patrolmen Bunn and Walker rushed into the house and woke up the residents.  "As soon as the tenants were aroused they rushed from their apartments, shouting and struggling to get to the street," said the article.

Mary Sexon lived in the attic.  When she did not respond to the rapping of the policemen's nightsticks on the door, they broke it in.  "Mrs. Sexton was lying unconscious, overcome by the smoke which filled the rooms," reported the New-York Tribune.  She was removed to St. Vincent's Hospital where she was revived.

As early as 1910 a Frenchwoman, Jeanette Borrine, operated the "lodging house," as described by The New York Times.  Lodging houses were the lowest form of accommodations, and rooms were rented out on a daily basis.  No amenities other than a bed were provided.

On January 6 that year, a couple--Deaf Lilly and Billy the Gink--rented the attic room.  The New York Times explained, "the Frenchwoman, who had known her years ago, gave her lodging."  The newspaper said that Lilly once "was the beautiful wife of 'Big Barney' in the days when every one in McGurk's 'Suicide Hall' would push their tables back to the wall while the couple waltzed down the middle."  Lilly earned the nickname in those days as "The pride of the Stevedores."

But that was 15 or 20 years earlier.  "Big Barney" disappeared and Lilly resorted to prostitution to survive.  She was repeatedly arrested and sent to Blackwell's Island until, according to The New York Times, "she was scarcely admitted to the places where she had once reigned as queen."  Her new husband was a drunk and a brute.  The newspaper explained that he was known as Billy the Gink "because somebody once knocked out his right eye."

Two days after they moved in, another lodger, Maggie Whalen, told Jeanette Borrine, "Lilly took an awful beating to-night.  I could hear Billy walloping her."  On January 12, 1910, Borrine "began to worry at Lilly's non-appearance," so she entered the room.  The New York Times reported, "Deaf Lilly was found dead yesterday lying half under her bed in the little furnished room at the top floor."  The article said that police were looking for Billy the Gink.

At the time, discussions to extend Seventh Avenue (which began at 11th Street) south to Varick Street were being held.  In 1913, work began on a two-pronged project--the extension of the avenue and the construction of the Seventh Avenue subway.  Like a titan-sized lawn mower, the work cut a swatch through Greenwich Village, erasing scores of buildings and leaving others with sections sheared off.

No. 84 Carmine Street nearly escaped the project, although it skimmed a few feet off the western corner, resulting in the doorway and second-floor window to be placed at an angle.

84 Carmine Street (right) barely escaped the construction project.  Shelby White & Leon Levy Digital Library

Following the minor renovations, Vincenzo Cesareo moved into 84 Carmine Street.  He opened his Universal Scientific Institute in the ground floor.  Describing his business as a "school of hypnotism," he was also listed in the 1914 Directory of Publishers, Printers and Authors Issuing Books.

Cesareo's residency here would be short-lived.  On April 24, 1915, the New York Herald reported he was sentenced "to three months in the penitentiary for unlawfully practising [sic] medicine by hypnotizing patients into the belief that they were well."  The article said that Cesareo not only "used his own spiritual powers to persuade persons that his treatment was actually improving their health, but he employed his wife as the medium whose oracular utterances guided the patient to a cure."

A renovation completed in 1923 resulted in a commercial space on the first floor, home to the National Flexible Packing Co.'s general offices, and a single apartment in the upper floors.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The greatly altered, venerable structure survived until 1996, when it and the apartment building next door were replaced by a single-story structure.

The Ideal Hosiery Building - 339 Grand Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

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

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

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

photograph by Carole Teller

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

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post.

The John M. Roesch House - 247 East Houston Street

 

Mary Ellison Lacour occupied the recently-built two-and-a-half story house at 247 East Houston Street in 1834.  She was the widow of Peter Lacour, who was one of the incorporators in 1801 of the French Church Du St. Esprit.  The couple had at least one child, Mary, born on December 26, 1786.

Eighteen-feet wide, Mary's Federal-style house was faced in Flemish bond brick.  The openings wore paneled brownstone lintels and the peaked attic featured two dormers.  In the rear yard was a secondary house, used as rental income.  Among Mary's tenants in 1834 included Elisha Hebbard, who ran a stables; glasscutter Philip McCready; Christian Clink, a carter; and butcher Henry Cornell.

By 1844, both houses had multiple residents.  Living in the main house were John Brown and Michael Lander, who had similar professions.  They listed themselves as "mariner" and "boatman," respectively.  Also in the front house were Henry Snyder, who ran a porterhouse; and shoemaker Abraham Willis.  The rear house was occupied by two widows, Maria Beal and Eliza Jones; Dennis Needham, a "pedler;" and James Valleau, "segarmaker."

Change came to the main house when Morton Hildebrandt converted the basement level for his candy store.  He and his family lived above the shop and were the only occupants in the building.  The Hildebrandt family was replaced by that of Xavier Vallet, who also took over the confectionery store.  Following Xavier's death in 1858, his widow, listed as "F. Vallet," lived here and ran the store at least through 1860.

For years after Mrs. Vallet left, the house was shared with two families at a time.  In 1863, for instance, Isaac Durlach, a glue manufacturer; and Joseph N. Oettinger (apparently retired) occupied it.  The former candy store became home to Meier Katz's plumbing shop, which would remain through 1877.

The main house became a single-family home again when John Roesch leased it around 1879 and opened his barbershop here.  It was possibly at this time that the attic was raised to a full floor.  Interestingly, the builder took care to mimic the Federal style lintels.  Brick dentils ran below the new cornice.

In the fall of 1882, Roesch and his wife wrote to England and invited Philomena Grainal (or Grainel) to live with them.  The 15-year-old was John Roesch's niece.  Described by the New-York Tribune as, "very pretty," she arrived in October and found work as a domestic in "a respectable family at $8 a month," according to the newspaper.  (Her pay would translate to about $253 per month in 2025.)

On Sunday morning, April 29, 1883, Philomena left home and "took along with her an extra dress," according to the family.  She never returned.  Four days later, the New York Herald reported, "An alarm was sent out last night directing the police to look for Philopena [sic] Grainel, fifteen years old, who has been missing since Sunday morning."  The Roesch family suspected foul play, since, as reported by the New-York Tribune, she "is considered to be a respectable girl."

Police found Philomena on May 4, but they withheld her location.  Police Superintendent Walling said, "she does not wish her relatives to know where she is, because she says she was ill-treated by them."  Walling investigated the circumstances and concluded, "As there is no evidence that her aunt has any lawful authority over her, I have concluded to respect the girl's wishes."

Around the time of the incident, John Roesch purchased 247 East Houston Street.

Charles Wesself lived at the address in 1892, most likely in the rear house.  On July 22, 1892, The Evening World reported that the 37-year-old, "fell down stairs at his residence at 10.30 o'clock this morning and was instantly killed."

In 1896 Roesch leased the barbershop to the Archer Mfg. Co.  It appears that, although retaining possession of the property, John Roesch and his family moved out in 1897.  That year he rented the property to Dr. Moritz Schwartz for "3 years with 2 years' privilege."

Dr. Schwartz converted the former barbershop space to his dental office.  He seems to have had trouble keeping an assistant, and repeatedly placed ads for a replacement.  On May 2, 1899, for instance, he advertised, "Dentist; good all-around man; short hours," and on August 6, 1901 sought, "Dentist--All-around dentist; short hours, well paid."

A tenant in the upper portion of the building gave a glimpse into the neighborhood in her letter to the editor of the New York Evening Journal in January 1898:

There is a family residing at No. 168 Ridge street that are in dire distress--a father, mother and seven children, and an old grandmother.  I did, and do, all I can for them, but I have my own people to look after.  Knowing what you do for the poor, I thought I would ask you to help them a little.

            Mary De Gamo, No. 247 East Houston street, New York

The Goodwin family rented rooms here in 1902.  The Evening World described their 12-year-old son, Henry, as a "venturesome youth."  Henry was celebrating New Year's Eve when he saw an automobile with well-dressed partiers break down at Houston and Essex Streets.  Despite the crowd on the sidewalks, while repairs were being made to the car, Henry "snatched a chatelaine bag Miss [May] Lewis wore and slashed at Miss Lewis's hand with a long knife."  The Sun explained, "Miss Lewis wore diamond rings.  Apparently the boy tried to cut off the ring finger on her hand."

May Lewis's finger was deeply slashed.  "The boy gave the hand a yank and then, when he failed to get the rings, ran off."  A policeman quickly caught and arrested Henry.  The Sun reported, "The whole automobile party went to the station."  The article said that while she was making the complaint, "Miss Lewis's hand was bleeding so profusely that she became faint."

In 1906, John Roesch updated the house.  He hired architect O. Reissmann to install plumbing (including toilets) and to replace windows.  The renovations cost him $500, or about $18,000 today.

With Morris Schwartz's dental office gone, the basement level became the Fly Leaf Social Club.  On December 1, 1913, The New York Call reported on illegal Manhattan gambling houses.  "Dollar John" Langer ran an operation at 248 East Houston Street and was implicated in the murder case of bookmaker Herman Rosenthal in 1912.  The article said, "Last week Deputy Commissioner Newburger raided a place across the street, at 247 East Houston street, just to convince Dollar John that the police were not joking with him."

Gangster Abraham "Little Doggie" Ginsberg lived here in the early 1920's.  In May 1923, his brother Henry, was arrested for stabbing Abraham Aadbaum.  Abe Ginsberg appeared at the courthouse for his arraignment on May 21 and got into a fistfight with Aadbaum supporters on the sidewalk.  After the arraignment, according to The New York Times, "Court had been hardly cleared...when there came sounds of another scuffle outside the building.  When the combatants, Abraham Ginsberg and Albert Aaronson, once more had been separated it was found that one of Ginsberg's eyes was badly injured."  Ginsberg was jailed for three days.

In May 1926, the Fly Leaf Social Club was raided and 18 men were arrested for illegal gambling.  Surprisingly, Magistrate Weil condemned the police officers rather than the patrons.  He said, "This is outrageous.  What right have the police to invade an old-established club and harass law abiding men?"  The patrons were released.

Among the groups that used the Fly Leaf Social Club space for their meetings during the early Depression years was the Downtown Local of the Alteration Painters Union.  They would soon have to find new accommodations.  In 1936 an alteration merged 247 East Houston Street with the corner building.  The ground floor became the showroom and office of Steinberg & Dubin monuments.

Steinberg & Dubin installed a massive blade sign on the facade and removed the cornices of both buildings.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

While the monument showroom remained at street level, a renovation in 1964 resulted in apartments on the upper floors.  

The Steinberg & Dubin showroom had its few moments of fame in 2007.  A chase scene within the episode "There's No 'We' Anymore" of The Naked City television series took place among the headstones.

photograph by Carole Teller

The scene could not have been filmed a few months later.  A large sign attached to the facade that September read, "Coming Soon.  Remedy Diner."  After decades of displaying tombstones, the space was renovated with a pseudo-Art Deco storefront.  Remedy Diner remains in the space.

non-credited photographs by the author

many thanks to Carole Teller for suggesting this post