Francis A. Minuth's 1889 19 Bedford Street

 

Cast iron piers on each side of the ground floor are all that remain of the 19th century storefront.

When Bedford Street was laid out in 1799, the Greenwich Village neighborhood around it was still rural.  Why the road was named for a London street, given the recent war with England, is a puzzle.  Bedford Street was lined with prim, Federal Style homes in the 1820s.  But by the third quarter of the century, the neighborhood saw an influx of immigrants, sparking a flurry of construction of apartment buildings.

Julius Ritter purchased the vintage house at 19 Bedford Street, between Downing and Hancock Street, in 1888.  (Hancock Street would later be eradicated by the extension of Sixth Avenue.)  He commissioned German-born architect Francis A. Minuth to design a five-story store-and-flat building on the site.  Completed the following year, the structure cost $14,000 to build, or just under half a million in 2025 dollars.

Minuth designed 19 Bedford Street in the Renaissance Revival style, cladding the four upper floors in red brick.  The brownstone trim included Renaissance-inspired architraves.  Those of the second floor wore molded cornices, the center of which was capped with a classical triangular pediment.  At the fourth floor, a pretty Juliette balcony supported by a single foliate bracket decorated the center opening.  Terra cotta shells filled the arches above the top floor windows, and a bracketed cornice with a paneled and swagged fascia completed the design.

The residents of 19 Bedford Street and the neighborhood in general witnessed a thrilling incident on April 29, 1915.  Police Sergeant Camille Pierne and Policeman Dennis Mitchell were on patrol at the corner of Houston and Hancock Streets that night when they heard a gunshot.  They pursued a man  who ran from Hancock onto Bedford Street, and then into 19 Bedford.  Before entering the building, Sergeant Pierne instructed Mitchell to enter 21 Bedford Street and then cross to No. 19 on the roof.

As Pierne started up the staircase, he dropped down as a bullet whizzed by his head.  The New York Evening Telegram said, "Pierne answered the shot from his revolver and plunged on upstairs."  At the top floor, the sergeant saw his query disappear up the ladder and through the scuttle to the roof.  Pierne reached the rooftop just in time to see the man "climb over a barb wire fence separating the roof from that of 21, " reported The New York Times.

When Officer Mitchell emerged from the scuttle of No. 21, he faced the "man running toward him pistol in hand," according to The New York Times.  Mitchell fired once, missing his assailant.  In the meantime, Sergeant Pierne had gotten tangled in the barbed wire, slowing down his progress.  Mitchel and the man got into a wrestling match.  The New York Times said, "In the street below a crowd which had seen the chase start shouted and yelled with excitement as each moment the men seemed about to fall into the street."  

Finally, Pierne got free of the barbed wire and "threw himself upon the man," said The Times.  "Between them the policemen dragged him back from the roof's edge and finally got him down to the street."  As it turned out, the gunman was 21-year-old Benjamin Lotta, who ran a barbershop at 18 Cornelia Street.  The target of Lotta's original shooting was never found.

Edward Neary, who lived here in 1923, maintained pigeon coops on the roof.  On the evening of May 25, he was "flying pigeons," as reported by the New York Evening Telegram, when he noticed smoke pouring out of the apartment building at 40 Downing Street.  Minutes earlier, a fire had broken out in the kitchen of Mrs. Louis Sibi on the second floor of that building.

By the time Neary arrived at the scene, Mrs. Sibi and her two children, Albert and Arthur, one and two years old respectively, were at the window.  She was screaming for help.  Neary rushed into the burning building and grabbed the boys.  He carried them down the rear fire escape, while Nicoli Pepetti, who owned the building, carried Mrs. Sibi down.  

Neary was hailed a hero, credited with saving the boys' lives.  The New York Evening Telegram reported, "the flames had swept up the stairways, 'mushrooming' on each floor."

A renovation completed in 1940 replaced Francis A. Minuth's 1889 cast iron storefront.  A plate glass show window flooded the interior with natural light, and rather unattractive concrete blocks took the place of the original storefront's cornice.

The 1940 ground floor renovation resulted in an ugly scar between the first and second floors.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Living in the building at the time was Mary Young, a widow.  Four years earlier, in February 1936, she had to be hospitalized.  Her attorney, Michael J. Horan, persuaded her to give him power of attorney.  Over the next four years, Horan "drew $10,000 from her bank accounts," reported the New York Evening Post.  The attorney was indicted on grand larceny in February 1941.  He was summoned to the prosecutor's office where he "suffered nervous prostration."  His condition prevented his being immediately jailed, and he quickly disappeared.   On September 25, the New York Evening Post reported, "An eight-state alarm has been sent out for Horan, missing since he walked out of his home at 106 Washington Pl. on Feb. 18."

When Mary Young died in her apartment here at the age of 93 in 1949, Horan was still on the lam.  Ten years after he first disappeared, on July 18, 1951, The New York Times reported, "Michael J. Horan, 78-year-old disbarred attorney, appeared yesterday in General Sessions and eloquently defended himself against an accusation that he had mulcted a widow of her life savings."  

In 1953, the city condemned 19 Bedford Street as well as several other neighboring buildings.  The move was part of the plan first proposed by Parks Commissioner Robert Moses in 1928.  He envisioned an eight-lane highway, the Lower Manhattan Expressway, that would run from the Holland Tunnel to the Manhattan and Williamsburg Bridges.

Robert Mose's plan would have created Verrazano Street and eliminated the Bedford Street block.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Moses's vision would include the creation of Verrazano Street, which would run through the Bedford and Downing Street neighborhood.  In 1957, a demolition permit for 19 Bedford Street was issued.  But Moses's grand project stalled.  Residents of 19 Bedford Street remained in their apartments, unsure of their futures here.

Twenty-nine years after the building was condemned, on November 13, 1980, The Villager reported on the city's plan of "demapping" of Verrazano Street--in other words, erasing the never-built thoroughfare from the map.  The tenants, who had been renting month-to-month from the city, were nervous.  Two months later, the newspaper reported, "Most of the rents in the buildings are very low and a large number of tenants are low-income or elderly people.  If the street is demapped, the buildings could be sold and the tenants evicted."

Of course, Verrazano Street was demapped and, happily, Robert Moses's extraordinary Lower Manhattan Expressway was scrapped.  No. 19 Bedford Street was sold by the city and the purchaser converted the building to five co-operative apartments, one per floor including the former storefront.  In eliminating the ground floor shop, a veneer of brick covered the unsightly concrete blocks of the 1940 renovation.

photographs by the author

The 1837 Rev. A. S. Francis House - 69 Bedford Street

 

The block of Bedford Street between Commerce and Morton Streets was a flurry of construction activity in 1836.  Prim, two-and-a-half story homes were rising along both sides.  Among them was a row of six houses constructed by John C. Hadden, a builder, and Sylvanus Gedney, a carpenter.  They formed the construction firm Hadden & Gedney.  The row was completed in 1837.  It appears that Hadden owned 69 Bedford Street, since he paid the taxes on the property.  Faced in Flemish bond brick, it featured a handsome entrance with narrow sidelights and a transom.

The house became home to Rev. A. S. Francis, pastor of the Bedford Street Methodist Episcopal Church which was almost directly across the street.  An interesting tradition at the time was the "pastor's visit," which, unlike the name suggests, had nothing to do with the minister visiting the homes of his congregants, but of their descending upon his house.  It was a sort of welcoming custom.  On January 27, 1838, an announcement appeared in the Morning Herald reading, "A Pastor's Visit--Will be given to the Rev. A. S. Francis. 69 Bedford street, on Monday afternoon and evening, the 29th of January.  You and friends are invited."

Among the participants was the renowned actor Edwin Forrest.  He told the Morning Herald,

On Monday evening I attended, according to a friendly invitation, the social and religious soirée given to the Rev. A. S. Francis, of 69 Bedford street, by his very excellent and respectable congregation, composed of a large number of worthy citizens, with their good wives, and pretty, smiling, charming daughters.  It was a perfect novelty.

Rev. Francis's residency would be short.  In 1840 Rev. Phineas Rice and his family occupied 69 Bedford Street.  He and his wife, the former Mary Howe, had six children, ranging in age from Thomas H., who was 22 years old in 1840, to Ephraim, who was 12.

Rev. Phineas Rice.  (original source unknown)

The Rices, too, would occupy the house for only a few years.  By 1845, 69 Bedford Street was home to Rev. I. C. Cheney.

Cheney was followed by the family of James Wright by 1851.  Born in 1798, Wright was a letter carrier.  He and his wife, Mary S., had at least two children, Maria J. and Gilbert.

It was common for families to take in boarders.  Although the house may have been snug for the four family members, the Wrights shared their home with Thomas W. and Mary F. Chadwick by 1853.  Chadwick had a china store at 232 Bleecker Street.  The couple had a toddler, James Howard.

Late in the winter of 1854, James Howard Chadwick contracted what The New York Times described as a "disease of the throat."  He died at the age of three years and seven months on March 7.  His funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

In 1855, Marie J. Wright was teaching in the Primary Department of School No. 45 on 24th Street between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.  Her brother was now a clerk and also volunteered with the Amity Hose Company, No. 38.

More than a century before air conditioning would become common, wealthy families escaped the city each summer to fashionable resorts or country estates.  Middle- and working-class families, on the other hand, suffered through the sweltering heat.  Each day newspapers listed the victims of heatstroke.

On July 19, 1866, the New York Herald titled an article "The Hot Weather," and reported on the ongoing heat wave's effects on the "already prostrate Gothamites."  The previous day, horses and citizens had fallen in the streets.  On the list of casualties, the article noted, "Mary Boyle, servant at No. 69 Bedford street...died suddenly of heat."

James Wright died at the age of 69 on December 29, 1866.  His funeral was held in the house on January 2, 1867.  Mary S. Wright remained here into the early 1880s.

Thorne W. and Anna Williams purchased 69 Bedford Street in April 1894.  The following year, in July, they hired architect John Guilfoyle to renovate the house.  It was most likely at this time that the attic was raised to a full floor and a neo-Grec cornice installed.

Anna Williams died in July 1908.  It is unclear how long Thorne remained here, but in 1926 owner John Falatino hired architect Robert A. Fash to convert the house to "non-housekeeping" apartments, meaning they had no kitchens.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to the basement level.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Occupying one of the apartments as early as 1934 was 22-year-old sculptor Edward Mansky.  

Early on the morning of December 2, 1937, three men fired shots at Owen McLaughlin, a stevedore at Pier 36 on the Hudson River.  In a similar attack earlier, Joseph Kirby, John Johnson, and Arthur Meehan had sought work at the pier on Vandam street.  When told there was no work, they "drew a revolver and fired two shots which lodged in the wall of the office," as reported by The New York Sun.  

The newspaper said, "Later that day a milkman found three .22-caliber revolvers in the hall of 69 Bedford street while making a delivery."  Forensic tests showed that the bullets recovered from the wall had come from one of the weapons.  Detectives arrested the three men whom they alleged "had discarded the weapons in the Bedford street tenement."

Victor Bockris interviewed writer and artist William Seward Burroughs II extensively for his book With William Burroughs, A Report From The Bunker.  Regarding his time here in 1943, Burroughs said,

I lived five months at 69 Bedford Street.  That was when David Kammerer lived around the corner at 35 Morton Street.  Sixty-nine Bedford Street was on the second floor; it was a furnished apartment; it had a couch and a few chairs and a table; it had a closet; kitchen, and bathroom.  Very mediocre.  I lived there by myself.  That was when I was working as a bartender and later as a private detective.  I didn't do very much.  I was working most of the time.  I had two jobs.  I spent a great amount of time at home in the pad.

That year Burroughs became friends with Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and David Kammerer, whom he mentioned in the interview.  Bill Morgan, in his I Celebrate Myself, The Somewhat Private Life of Allen Ginsberg, writes, "The quartet of Allen, William, Lucien [Carr], and David spent hours hanging out together around the local bars like Chumley's...Their lively conversations ran the gamut from philosophy and art to drugs and sex."  

On August 17, 1944, The New York Times reported that Burroughs and Jack Kerouac had been arrested as material witnesses in the murder of David Kammerer.  He had been fatally stabbed by Lucien Carr, in Riverside Park. 

In 1950, the house was converted to apartments, two each on the first and second floors and one on the third.  A subsequent renovation completed in 2009 returned 69 Bedford Street to a single family home.  The stoop was restored and a period-appropriate entranceway fabricated.

photograph by the author

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

The Gershom Nathan House - 73 Bedford Street

Joshua Isaacs owned considerable land in Greenwich Village in the decade following the Revolution.  In 1799 he began construction of his substantial free-standing home at the corner of the recently opened Bedford and Commerce Streets.  Two years later, Isaacs transferred title of 77 Bedford Street and the abutting vacant lots to his son-in-law, Harmon Hendricks.  Following Hendricks's death in 1821, the Bedford Street properties were left in trust to his daughter, Hettie, who was married to Aaron L. Gomez.

Charles Oakley was perhaps the most prolific builder in the district in the 1830s.  In 1836 he leased the lots at 73 and 75 Bedford Street from the Hendricks-Gomez family.  He erected two Greek Revival style homes on the sites, each two-and-a-half stories tall and faced in Flemish bond brick.  

The doorway of 73 Bedford sat above a short stoop and was flanked by narrow sidelights.  A squat attic level took the place of the dormers that would have been seen in the Federal style of a few years earlier.  The ends of the paneled, brownstone lintels were given modified Greek key designs.

The first occupant of 73 Bedford Street was silversmith Charles M. Williams.  He had been a partner of John I. Monell in the mid-1820s in Monell & Williams, but seems to have been working alone by now.  

The silver top of this cut glass canister in the collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art is stamped with Charles M. Williams mark.

Charles M. Williams disappears from directories in 1837, suggesting he died that year or shortly afterward.  The house became home to Henry and Eliza Haines.  Their only son, John Henry, died on February 4, 1839.  His funeral was held in the parlor the following day.

The next year, Deborah Coley, the widow of William G. Coley, and her son William Jr. occupied 73 Bedford Street.  William ran a fruit business at 195 Washington Street.  The Coleys would remain into the late 1840s, after which another widow, Diana Traphagen, leased the house.

Diana was the widow of William D. Traphagen.  Living with her was her daughter Ellen D., who became a teacher in the early 1850s.  In 1854 she taught in the primary department of School No. 41 on Greenwich Avenue at Charles Street, earning $175 a year (about $6,500 in 2025).

Not surprisingly, Diana Traphagen took in boarders.  In 1851, for instance, they were Charles W. Juhnke, a varnisher, and Elizabeth Van Pelt, a nurse.  Elizabeth was the widow of John Van Pelt.

Hettie and Aaron L. Gomez still owned the land on which 73 Bedford Street sat.  On October 28, 1853, their daughter Rosalane (known as Rosalie) was married to Gershom Seixas Nathan.  Diana Traphagen's lease apparently expired in 1858 and the following year Rosalie and Gershom Nathan moved into the Bedford Street house.  (Diana did not move far away.  In 1859 she was living at 67 Bedford Street.)

Like his wife's family, Gershom's had supported the American Revolution.  His father, Simon Nathan, arrived in the colonies in 1773 and immediately threw his support to the cause.  He also was active in the Jewish community and was a trustee of Shearith Israel Congregation.  

Gershom was born on September 26, 1821.  He and Rosalie had seven children, Frances, Clarence Seixas, Stella, Edgar Joshua, Benjamin, Elvira and Solis.

Gershom Seixas Nathan (original source unknown)

Shortly after moving in, Rosalie advertised for domestic help.  Her ad on October 4, 1859 read, "Wanted--A cook; one who understands plain cooking, making bread and to do the washing of a small family; wages $7 per month."  (The broad list of duties would earn the servant the equivalent of $265 a month today.)

On July 12, 1864, five years after the family moved in, Gershom died at the age of 42.  It is unclear how long Rosalie and the children remained at 73 Bedford Street.  She eventually moved far north to 113 West 87th Street where she died on April 16, 1890.

As early as 1871, the former Nathan house was home to Hudson W. Ball, a real estate agent, his wife, the former Katherine Kane, and their son Hudson H. Ball, who was a clerk.  The family rented the house until 1887 when they moved to 51 Morton Street.

Terrence H. Forrest leased 73 Bedford Street in the 1890s, paying $187.50 per quarter, according to Gomez documents.  The rent would translate to nearly $26,000 per year in today's money.  Forrest ran a laundry business on the East Side of Manhattan.  On June 4, 1896, The World said, "In Bedford street, where many of the old settlers still dwell, despite the attractions of Harlem and other newer neighborhoods, Terrence is a man of influence, both social and political."

For several years, according to the article, Forrest had suffered from dropsy (known today as edema).  Nothing had alleviated the condition and, "with each relapse his strength faded away, until he retained hardly any of his former strength."  Finally, in the spring of 1896, Forrest's condition was dire.  The World reported, "It was decided that the last sacraments of the Catholic Church should be administered to the dying man."  

Father McCabe of the Church of St. Anthony of Padua arrived at the house.  Along with the items for administering extreme unction, he brought a relic of St. Anthony in a gold case.  The World reported, "He anointed the sick man's body with it while all around prayed, with heads bowed."  

On June 4, The World recounted, "Almost immediately, it is said, the man rallied, and from that moment grew stronger and stronger until now, his family declare, he enjoys his former health."  Neither Father McCabe nor Terrence Forrest would discuss the matter.  "In the neighborhood, however, the case is much talked about, and Mr. Forrest is looked upon by many as one saved from the grave," said the article.

Forrest's name was back in the newspapers the following year when his turnout (a two-wheeled carriage) ran down bicyclist Annie W. Browne uptown on 62nd Street.  The New York Journal and Advertiser reported, "Her bicycle was wrecked, but she was not injured."  Forrest was initially arrested, "but upon his promise to pay for the damage he was liberated."

The Forrest family remained at 73 Bedford Street through 1899, after which it was operated as a boarding house for more than a decade.  Interestingly, in 1917 Rosalie and Gershom Nathan's son, Clarence Siexas Nathan, leased his childhood home "for a term of years."

In October 1923, the Gomez family began liquidating about a dozen properties, including 73 through 77 Bedford Streets.  On November 18, 1923, The New York Times reported, "Greenwich Village has a new community art center.  It is in Bedford and Commerce Streets, where the noise of motor traffic on Seventh Avenue never penetrates."  A group of artists, writers and performers had bought up the Bedford Street houses and hired architect Ferdinand Savigano to remodel them.

Savigano raised the attic to a full floor, its vertical wall composed of more glass than brick.  Artists' studio spaces like this were highly popular in Greenwich Village.  Seven years later, Bedford Street was widened, requiring the removal of the stoop.  The entrance to 73 Bedford Street was moved to the rear, accessed through a gateway on Commerce Street.

Shorn of its stoop, the former entrance of 73 Bedford Street hovered above the sidewalk in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Living in the remodeled house were Warren C. Clark, an investment statistician and graduate of Williams College; Joseph Cox, the managing editor of Adventure magazine; and Kathleen Keenan (known as Katy to her friends), who was a dietician for Child's Restaurants.  In October 1927, The Lyre of Alpha Chi Omega described Kathleen's "cozy little apartment at Greenwich Village."

Another remodeling in 1938 resulted in one apartment in the basement and two each on the upper floors.  One of the units was rented by actress and dancer Joan McCracken in 1944.  Her husband, Jack Dunphy, had been called to military duty.  In her 2003 biography of McCracken, The Girl Who Fell Down, Lisa Jo Sagolla writes:

McCracken focused on settling into her ground-floor garden apartment at 72 Bedford Street.  To McCracken, home was a haven in which to escape.  She had a knack for turning her urban apartments into snug little oases, filled with plants and flowers.  She papered her apartment walls herself, made her own slipcovers, and filled her home with the products of her favorite hobby--antique furniture shopping.  One of her prized pieces was an antique Pennsylvania Dutch cupboard.  Collecting seashells and unusually shaped pieces of driftwood was another of McCracken's hobbies, and her New York apartment sported specimens she and Dunphy had picked up along the shore during their honeymoon in Provincetown.

McCracken had a contract with Warner Brothers, but had been allowed to return to New York to work on the Broadway play Bloomer Girl.  

Joan McCracken as Daisy (right) in the Broadway production of Bloomer Girl.  Life magazine, November 6, 1944.  

Jack Dunphy would never join his wife at 73 Bedford Street.  In 1948 he met Truman Capote at a cocktail party and the two would have a relationship until Capote's death.  Joan McCracken went on to film, Broadway and television roles to general acclaim.  But health complications brought an end to her career.  She died in 1961 at the age of 43.

In 1985, the house was renovated again, at which time the stoop was refabricated.  There are now a duplex apartment in the basement and first floor, and one apartment each on the upper floors.  

photograph by the author

The 1836 Daniel Whitney House - 75 Bedford Street

 

The imposing house erected by Joshua Isaacs in 1799-1800 at 77 Bedford Street on the corner of Commerce Street stood alone for more than three decades.  In 1836, a flurry of construction began that would fill the block from Commerce to Morton Street with similar two-and-a-half story, brick-faced homes.  

Although Charles Oakley was educated as an attorney, he listed his occupation as "merchant" in 1810 when he married Margaret Roome.  But it was his real estate dealings for which he would be remembered.  By now, Oakley had become perhaps the most prolific developer in Greenwich Village.  In 1836, he erected two identical homes at 73 and 75 Bedford Street.  No. 75 was separated from the Isaacs house by an alleyway, or "horsewalk," to the rear yards.  (It would be later be filled in with the city's narrowest house.)  

The 20-foot-wide houses were an early example of Greek Revival architecture.  Low stoops led to the entrances flanked by narrow sidelights.  The paneled brownstone lintels with carved, modified Greek key designs were an unusual extra. 

Luke Gage, a distiller at 182 Christopher Street, moved into the newly-finished house with his wife, Charity Ama.  Only months later, on June 6, 1837, Charity Ama died at the age of 29.  Her funeral was held in the house on June 8.  Luke Gage left Bedford Street by 1840, when the house was home to Samuel D. Vandenbergh.

Vandenbergh listed his profession as a turner, a person who made spindles and similar wooden items.  He would live here through 1853, after which he moved to New Jersey.

In the meantime, beginning around 1845, Vandenbergh shared the house with the family of Daniel Whitney, a builder.  (At some point during this period, Whitney purchased the house.)  Previously, the Whitney family lived across the street at 80 Bedford Street.  Daniel was the son of Brigadier-General Josiah Whitney and his wife Sarah Farr.  Born in Massachusetts in 1786, he married Hannah Shedd on March 10, 1808.  The couple, who would eventually have 16 children, had moved to New York in 1825.

The Whitney's eldest son, Daniel J., went to San Francisco in 1849, most likely having caught the "gold fever."  On April 11, 1850, the New York Daily Herald reported that he had died in San Francisco two months earlier.  He was 41 years old.  

In the meantime, Benjamin Shurtleff Whitney had headed west as well.  He contracted cholera and died in Vincennes, Indiana six months after his brother, on August 6, 1850 at the age of 27.

William M. Whitney was an enterprising young man.  In 1854 he owned a bakery on Bleecker Street and a dry goods store on Cedar Street.  That year his sister Susanna was teaching in the primary department of School No. 41 on Greenwich Avenue.

When William married, he and his wife, Amelia, moved into what must have been snug quarters in 75 Bedford Street.  They had a baby named William Jr. in 1858, but, tragically, the infant died on December 21 that year.  His funeral was held in the parlor the next day.  (William and Amelia later moved into a fashionable home on St. Luke's Place.)

The string of Whitney funerals at 75 Bedford Street continued.  Never married, Hannah Maria, the eldest daughter, died on Christmas Day 1859 at the age of 48.  The following year, on October 27, Hannah Shedd Whitney died at the age of 71; and three months later, on January 11, 1861, daughter Lucy Jane died.  She was the wife of George B. Revere and was 43.

Living with their father in 1867 were Warren Webster, who worked for the city as an assessor, and Susanna and Caroline Josephine (who went by her middle name).  Josephine would teach in the same school as Susanna in 1870.

Daniel Whitney died at the age of 81 on April 15, 1869.  Perhaps expecting a large turnout to the funeral of the esteemed builder, the family held it in William's commodious home at 5 St. Luke's Place.

Warren, Susanna and Josephine, none of whom married, lived on in the family home.  They took in boarders, advertising in May 1877, "Two large furnished rooms, second floor; also, attic Room, with or without Board."

The Whitneys sold 75 Bedford Street to Frederick Miner, a merchant, in 1878.  Two sons, Lynes O. and Edwin David, were enrolled in the introductory class of the Commercial Course of New York City College that year.  Another son, Charles L., was a produce merchant in the Washington Market by 1886.

George Pepper and his wife boarded with the Miners in 1891.  Pepper was a guard on the Sixth Avenue Elevated.  On the night of May 10, he and his wife were stopped at the corner of Franklin and Varick Streets by Roundsman Londigran.  The New York Press reported, "The policeman asked him what business he had bringing that woman there, to which he replied that she was his wife and they were going to take the [street] car on Hudson street."  (The officer's implication was that he was with a prostitute.)

According to Pepper, Londigran, "then caught him by the throat and prodded him in the ribs with his club, shouting to take his wife and get home."  Pepper attempted to get the policemen's badge number.  It resulted in another prodding with the club and his arrest.  Pepper made a complaint at Police Headquarters.  The New York Press reported, "Londigran says the complaint is a lie, and that he only did his duty."  Pepper was told the case would be investigated.

The affluence of the Miner family was evidenced in Owen's inclusion in the 1901 Club Men of New York.  He was a member of the New York Country Club.  The family would remain here at least through the first decades of the 20th century.

In October 1923, Spaulding Hall and Cyrus Brown purchased 73 through 77 Bedford Street.  The New York Times noted, "the recently acquired property is being remodeled into studios and apartments."  Architect Ferdinand Savignano added a glass-fronted fourth floor, and flooded the apartments with natural light through vast studio windows installed at the rear.

Vast expanses of glass at the rear of the house filled it with natural light.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

Among the initial residents were Frank K. Gardner and his wife, the former Camilla Winslow Hoff.  Gardner was the general manager of the Cornstalk Products Co.  M. Brooks was a tenant in 1926, when he advertised in The Publishers Weekly hoping to acquire two books, Human Science on Phrenology and Sexual Science, both by Professor O. S. Fowler.

The widening of Bedford Street in the 1930s necessitated the removal of the stoops.  The doorway to 75 Bedford Street was converted to a window and the entrance moved to the rear, accessed on Commerce Street.

All of the houses along the block had lost their stoops in this 1936 photograph.  The doorway of 75 Bedford is now a window.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

The house was renovated again in 1939.  There was now a duplex in the lower floors, and one apartment each on the top two.

A woman sits in front of the house in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A striking renovation completed in 1998 returned 75 Bedford Street to a single family home.  The stoop was restored and the entrance refabricated.  

It was purchased in 2012 by filmmaker James Oakley (who, interestingly, shared his surname with the house's builder) for $5.8 million.  He resold it in 2017 for $7.8 million and the new owner commissioned architect M. N. Ahari to gut renovate the interiors--creating striking modern spaces while eliminating all hint of surviving historic details.

 

photograph by the author

The William Henry Knapp House - 65 Bedford Street

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Billy Lee Brammer in 1966, photo by Bob Simmons.

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

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

photograph by the author

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

The 1821 Deborah Coley House - 66 Bedford Street

 

Laid out in 1799, Bedford Street was named for the London Street of the same name.  In 1821, two years after he purchased land on the street, merchant Isaac Jaques sold several of the plots to builders James Vandenberg and Isaac Freeman.  The partners erected prim Federal style houses on their plots, identical to those they built for Jaques.  Two-and-a-half stories tall, the frame houses were faced in Flemish bond red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Tidy dormers pierced the peaked roof. 

James Vandenberg moved into the house at 68 Bedford Street, while Isaac Freeman took possession of 66 Bedford as an investment property.  Freeman's tenants were middle class, like David Vanpelt, a carter (or delivery driver), and grocer Abraham D. Tompkins, whose families shared 66 Bedford Street in 1836.  

They were followed in 1837 by Rev. B. Hibbard, who listed his profession as "druggist" rather than clergyman.  While living here, he marketed Rev. B. Hibbard's Vegetable Antibilious Family Pills.  An advertisement in The Evening Post on August 25, 1837 promised in part:

They are highly appreciated for the relief they afford in affections of the Liver and Digestive Organs.  The worst cases of Chronic Dyspepsia, Inveterate Costiveness, Indigestion, Dyspeptic Consumption, Rheumatism, Nervous or Sick Headache and Scurvy, have been entirely cured by a proper use of them.  Also, Liver Complaints, Fever and Ague, Bilious Fever, Jaundice, Dysentery or Bloody Flex, the premonitory symptoms of Cholera, Dropsical Swelling, Piles, Worms in Children, Fits, Looseness and Irregularity of the Bowels, occasioned by Irritation, Teething, &c.

The regular turnover in tenants continued into the 1850s.  In 1851, carman Peter C. Westervelt occupied the house, followed by Henry Bredehoff, a grocer, in 1853 and '54.  Then, in 1855, Deborah Coley, the widow of William Coley, moved into 66 Bedford Street with her daughter Rachel.  At a time when few women were trained for anything other than domestic duties, it was common for widows to run boarding houses to make a living.

Given the size of the house and the fact that boarders often came with other family members, Deborah Coley never took in more than two at a time.  In 1856 they were Samuel Barber and John C. Westervelt, both clerks.  (The term ranged from low-level office workers to highly responsible employees who managed cash.)  

On May 26, 1863, she advertised, "To Let--Second floor, in a genteel two story house, to a family without children.  Inquire at 66 Bedford street.  Rent $12 per month."  That amount would translate to about $300 today.

Following her mother's death in 1874, Rachel Coley took over the operation of the house, continuing to accept respectable boarders like Eugene Lowe, a dealer in plumbers' materials, here in 1876, and Alfred B. Hazard, a clerk, in 1879.

Change came after World War I.  On September 24, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that Albertson Von Zo Post had purchased "the old fashioned house."  He converted it to studio apartments, the Department of Buildings warning, "not more than two families cooking independently on premises." Post removed the three-step stoop and lowered the doorway, which was given a Georgian-style fanlight.  The resultant gap between the top of the new entrance and the sheet metal cornice of the old one (which had been added along with those over the windows in the 19th century) was filled in with brick.

An advertisement in The New York Times on October 19, 1921 read simply, "Studio Apartment.  3 Rooms, kitchen, bath."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1914, Seventh Avenue was extended south to Varick Street, mowing a swath through Greenwich Village.  Several of the resultant triangular-shaped plots, too small for a house or business, became home to gasoline stations.  In 1922, one was erected directly behind 66 Bedford Street.

In 1982, Robert and Sandra Wagenfeld purchased 66 Bedford Street and the Seventh Avenue service station, which had closed in 1970.  They returned the Bedford Street house to a single-family home, and renovated the service station as a guest house.  The properties were purchased by investor Barry Schwartz in 2006.  Five years later, when 64 Bedford Street became available, he purchased that home and joined the two houses internally with a single door at the rear.

photographs by the author

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

The Diana Traphagen House - 67 Bedford Street

 

In 1836, construction began on a row of six neat houses along the west side of Bedford Street between Commerce and Morton Streets.  Although built for several owners, they appear to all have been constructed by John C. Hadden and Sylvanus Gedney of Hadden & Gedney.  

Possibly working with them on the project was carpenter Samuel J. Van Saun, who took title to 67 Bedford Street in the middle of the row.  Faced in Flemish bond brick, it rose three stories above a brownstone basement.  All of the houses were intended as rental properties and No. 67, like its neighbors, would initially see a rapid turnover in tenants.

The residence's respectable, middle-class occupants included Henry A. Halsted, a grocer, here in 1840 and '41.  By 1845 another grocer, Peter Shute lived here, sharing the house with Jacob Bloom, a shoemaker.  In 1851 broker Samuel R. Jacobs and hardware merchant John W. Sullivan rented 67 Bedford Street.

William Veitch and his family moved in around 1853.  The location was convenient, since Veitch was sexton of the Bedford Street Church just steps away at the corner of Morton Street.  The handsome Greek Revival structure had been constructed 13 years earlier.

The Veitch family moved to 71 Bedford Street in 1855, replaced in the house by the family of Anson Davies Fitz Randolph.  Born in 1820 in Woodbridge, New Jersey, he opened his religious book store at 669 Broadway in 1851, publishing and selling religious books, sermons and pamphlets.  He and his wife had at least two sons, Arthur D. F. and Frank F.  

Famed photographer Alfred Stieglitz made this portrait of Anson Davies Fitz Randolph later in life.  Camera Notes, July 1897 (copyright expired)

The family was at Woodbridge, New Jersey in the summer of 1855 when Frank F. Randolph became ill.  He died there at the age of four on September 6.  His funeral was held in the Bedford Street house a few days later.

The first long-term occupant of 67 Bedford Street was Diana Traphagen, who moved in around 1856 with her son James.  Her husband, William D. Traphagen, had died in 1851.  In 1862 James D. Traphagen's profession was listed as "ales."  He could have been a brewer or, more likely, ran a saloon.  That year Diana took in a boarder, carpet merchant William H. Peterson.

An advertisement in the New York Herald on January 24, 1871 read, "Wanted--A girl for general housework in a private family.  Call at 67 Bedford st."  The term "private family" was telling in that, while Diana Traphagen took in as many as two boarders at a time, she was not technically running a boarding house.

An ad on October 2, 1877 read, "A large furnished room, second floor, modern improvements, $13 per month; hall room $7 per month, to gentlemen; private family.  67 Bedford st."  Boarders would be paying the equivalent of $390 per month for the larger room.  Diana's accepting only men was a common practice to ensure that unsavory women did not sully the reputation of the house.

By the last decade of the 19th century, 67 Bedford Street was operated as a boarding house by Lizzie Cullen.  On the evening of September 30, 1899, she and her neighbor Nellie Melford, who lived at 64 Bedford Street, were at the corner of Bedford and Carmine Streets "when they saw a young woman come along, pick up a little child from the street, kiss it, and give it a penny," according to The New York Times.

While others may have found nothing suspicious in the interaction, Lizzie and Nellie did.  As Mary Farrell led the child away by the hand, they followed.  Aware of their presence, Farrell turned and asked if they knew whose child it was.  The Times reported, "They said they did not.  She then expressed the opinion that it must be lost, and said she would try to find where it belonged."

According to the article, the woman went "from place to place" with "Mrs. Cullen and Mrs. Melford following and watching her intently."  When the women saw Police Officer Henry Haggerty, they informed him of their suspicions.  What might have been seen as a case of interfering busybodies turned out to be civilian policework.  Mary Farrell was taken in for questioning.  "She said first the child was her own, and that she was merely playing a joke.  Then she denied all knowledge of the child.  Next she said she knew its mother, and had the baby out for a walk."  The 25-year-old was held on attempted kidnapping.

Lizzie Cullen's tenants were working class.  A boarder living here in 1903 placed an on August 14 that read, "Young man (25) handy with tools, wishes a position of any kind.  P. Martin, 67 Bedford st., New York."

French-Canadian Ludgel F. Tardey lived here in 1907.  He had worked for the Western Electrical Company since 1903.  Described by the Brooklyn Daily Eagle as "an undersized man," he decided to end it all on May 17, 1907 by leaping from the Williamsburg Bridge.  He boarded a Broadway Line streetcar headed to Brooklyn.  When the car was above the East River, Tardey walked to the rear "and started to climb over the dashboard," said the article.  The conductor, Charles Gunstine, and a passenger, Raphael Richards, realized what he was attempting to do and began struggling with him.  The ruckus drew the attention of Policemen James McKenna and James Dobson, who "took charge of Tardey and started with him to the bridge police station."  On the way, Tardey attempted to break free several times.

When he faced Magistrate O'Reilly, Tardey "talked quite rationally," said the Brooklyn Daily Eagle.  He pleaded not to be jailed (attempted suicide was a jailable offense) because he would lose his job.  O'Reilly, however, "thought it best to have the man examined," and he was held.

In 1916 New York City was struck by a devastating epidemic--poliomyelitis, or infantile paralysis.  Doctors were caught unaware and on September 3, Dr. Abraham Zingher explained, "so little did the average practitioner know about poliomyelitis at the beginning of the present sweep of the scourge that many cases were treated as summer complaint or other common illness for several days."  The following day, The New York Times ran the headline, "Experts Train Private Doctors to Curb Plague."  There were 8,197 cases to date and 1,988 deaths recorded at the time.

Earlier, on July 11, a female reporter from the New-York Tribune accompanied an ambulance to a call at 67 Bedford Street.  She wrote, "Crowds of curious folk gathered around when we stopped...and a heavily built woman hurried out to assure us that her child was as good as gold and didn't need to go to the hospital."  The doctor confided, "They all say that.  For some reason they have a dread of sending their children with us."  The doctor examined the six-year-old boy named Johnny, then explained to the reporter, "We can't take this one...the family isn't willing to let the boy go.  Under those conditions we can't force it."  What became of Johnny is unknown.

In 1926, the Greenoak Company, Inc. converted 67 Bedford Street to apartments.  A fourth floor was added, its arrangement of two windows, one twice the size of the other, was copied at the third floor.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to the former basement level.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The apartments were what was known as "bachelor apartments," meaning they had no actual kitchens.  The Department of Buildings warned, "not more than two families cooking independently on the premises."  

The configuration lasted until 1972, when a renovation resulted in a triplex apartment in the lower three floors, and one apartment each on the upper floors.  Then, a remarkable makeover completed in 2012 returned 67 Bedford Street to a single family house.  The entrance was refabricated based on surviving examples in the area, the original fenestration of the third floor was restored, and a wall of studio windows installed at the fourth floor.

photograph by the author

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com