The 1902 The Braender Apartments - 418 Central Park West

 

image via streeteasy.com

Born in Germany, Philip Braender arrived in New York as a youth.  At the turn of the last century, he was a visible player in the development of the Upper West Side.  In 1901 he commissioned architect Frederick C. Browne to design a ten-story "brick flat" at the southwest corner of Central Park West and 102nd Street.  Browne's plans projected the construction cost at $400,000--a significant $15.6 million in 2026.

Completed the following year, The Braender's French Renaissance design was splashed with Spanish Baroque Revival touches.  Clad in gray brick above the two-story stone base, The Braender's turret-like rounded bays and corbeled cornice were inspired from French chateaux and gave the building an exotic charm.  A lacy cast iron balcony girded the third floor and intricate Baroque-style terra cotta ornaments decorated the third, fourth and tenth floors.  At the ninth were balconies "capped with red Spanish tile in strong contrast to the prevailing color," as described by The World's New York Apartment House Album.

The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Braender's H-shape plan created a deep courtyard, which was entered "through a high columned archway, elaborately carved and ornamented," as described by The World's New York Apartment House Album.  Residents entered under a glass and iron marquee into a coffered ceilinged foyer that opened into a veined-marble lobby.

There were typically three apartments per floor ranging from five to twelve rooms with one to three baths.  Rents ranged (by today's conversion) from $1,650 to $3,300 per month.  An advertisement boasted that The Braender was "not exceeded in dignity and architectural beauty by any similar structure."

The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Braender's tenants were affluent and professional.  Among the early residents were Charles Herbert Stoddard and his wife, the former Frances Henrietta Thebault.  An attorney, Stoddard was also the president and director of the Builders' Construction Company.

Also in the building at the time were Carlos Benito Figueredo, Consul General of Venezuela, and his wife Louise Calcafio.  The New-York Tribune called Louise "one of the belles of Caracas."  The couple had one child, Gloria.  On May 5, 1907, the New-York Tribune reported that the Figueredos "celebrated their silver wedding last night at their home."  The article said that there were  a "hundred or more guests at the dance and dinner."

Mrs. A. Guiterrez, a widow, lived here with her daughter, Lola, as early as 1914.  Like all their moneyed neighbors, they summered in fashionable resorts.  They traveled to Winthrop, Maine during the first week of July that year.  About a week later, on July 13, they attempted to walk across the train trestle near the hotel.  The New York Times reported that they "were struck and killed tonight by a train on the Main Central Railroad."  The article said that the horrific incident occurred "in the view of guests on the hotel piazzas and in boats on the lake."

On February 22, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that the new owner, Frederick Bangerter, had "devised a tenant ownership plan for the Braender."  The plan to convert the building to a cooperative moved forward with lightning speed.  An advertisement a month later urged, "own a select apartment in a palatial home, with all the modern comforts--steam heat, hot water, day and night elevator service, etc., etc."  Fifty of the apartments had been converted while, according to the advertisement, "The income of the remaining 25 apartments pays in full for taxes and all other running costs and charges."

Surprisingly, by the time Wurts Bros. took this photograph, the iron cresting had been removed from the cornice.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The Braender's most celebrated tenants at the time were the Stoner family.  Dr. James Buchanan Stoner was born in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 1861.  He was known nationwide for his work against epidemics, starting with the smallpox epidemic of 1888.  He married educator Dr. Winifred Sackville on February 3, 1900 and their only child, Winifred Sackville Stoner Jr. was born in 1902.  (Because her daughter, who would earn prominence on her own, bore her identical name, Dr. Stoner was often referred to as Mother Stoner.)

Winifred Jr. was a prodigy.  Under her mother's tutelage, she was able to speak multiple languages by the age of ten.  At the age of nine, she passed the Stanford University and University of Wisconsin-Madison entrance exams.

On December 26, 1921, the Stoners announced their 19-year-old daughter's marriage to Charles de Bruche.  The couple was married in the Stoner apartment four months earlier, "with none but the family present," explained The New York Times.  The article said, "Miss Stoner wishes to avoid publicity having as a young girl had columns published about her education, the books and the verses she had written and the eight languages she could speak before she was twelve years old, owing to her mother's remarkable system of education."  The newlyweds, said the article, "will divide their time between Paris and New York when they are not traveling."

Winifred and Charles de Bruche were in Mexico the following summer.  De Bruche had told his bride "that he was a composer, poet and member of a noble French family, entitled to call himself a count," according to Winifred Jr.  Less than a year later she told a reporter that she learned "that he was not of noble birth and was not a person of good repute."  De Bruche disappeared and in August Winifred received a telephone call from his friend, Frank Davis, telling her that her husband "had been killed in Mexico City" in an automobile crash.

On September 1, the New-York Tribune reported, "Funeral services for Charles Philippe de Bruche, husband of Winifred Sackville Stoner jr., were held yesterday at 418 Central Park West, the home of his wife's parents."  The ceremony was, apparently, more accurately described as a memorial service, since there was no body.

Dr. James Buchanan Stoner died on July 22, 1925.  In reporting his death, The New York Times recounted his long history of fighting epidemics throughout the United States.  It noted, additionally, that he was a relative of President James Buchanan.

The Braender's heavily-veined marble lobby remains virtually intact.  image via cocoran.com

After Winifred Stoner de Bruche married Louis Hyman, her mother continued to occupy The Braender apartment.  In 1925 she was a member of the Citizens' Committee for Music and published the monthly Mother Stoner's Bulletin, which outlined the Stoner philosophy of education.  In 1925 she founded the League for Fostering Genius.

On August 21, 1927, a reporter from The New York Times visited Mother Stoner's apartment for information about her daughter's divorce from Louis Hyman.  She said that she hoped Winifred would join her "to carry on the work of helping young genius."  And indeed, the mother and daughter initiated "a genius hunt covering all the United States and most of the Western Continental Europe" that month, as reported by the newspaper.

Mother Stoner explained to the reporter that there "are six classes of people:

Idiots, she said, were like jellyfish and common weeds; destructionists were often clever but dangerous, like the boll weevil and poisonous weeks; morons were like pigs and vegetables; the hyper-morons (or norms) were those with 16-year mentalities with whom the world is largely filled...The only two classes worth preserving were the geniuses, she said...and the progressionists or builders.

(She explained that progressionists included "men who constantly seek to make their business more efficient."  They included "newspaper men, bankers and highway robbers.")

The following month, on September 20, 1927, The New York Times reported, "'Mother' Stoner returned from Philadelphia yesterday to her home at 418 Central Park West.  She reports that she discovered six geniuses and 300 talented children during her Philadelphia stay."  The article added, "Winifred 2d is now in Paris, looking for geniuses there, her mother said."

Now divorced, Winifred Jr. moved back to 418 West Central Park West.  She received an arcane telephone message in November 1929, "suggesting that she go to the lobby of the Hotel Ansonia."  She did and saw her long-dead husband, Charles de Bruche there.  The New York Times said that he "was living at the Hotel Bretton Hall."  On December 12, the newspaper said she had filed suit to annul her marriage because she "finds herself still the wife of De Bruche."

This photograph of Winifred Jr. may have been taken in the Braender apartment.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

In 1931, Winifred Jr. married Earl Winston Harrison and moved to Los Angeles.  Later that year, on November 10, Winifred "Mother" Sackville Stoner died in her Braender apartment at the age of 49.  In reporting her death, The New York Times listed her books, which included Natural Education, Mother Stoner Nursery Rhymes, Arithmetic Through Play, Games With Aims, and Castles in Spain.  

Somewhat overshadowed by the Stoners in the building were prominent residents like Dr. Maurice H. Harris and his wife, the former Kitty Green.  Born in London in 1859, Harris was ordained a rabbi in 1882.  He had been rabbi of Temple Israel since 1885.  On February 8, 1925, the congregation hosted a tea and reception in appreciation of his 40 years of service.

Dr. Sergius Ingerman lived here as early as 1934.  That year he sent a telegram to President Franklin D. Roosevelt that said in part, "We implore you to use your influence to bring about the cessation of the mass executions in Soviet Russia."  Born in Russia in 1868, Ingerman was a specialist in eye diseases and a member of the American Academy of Ophthalmology and Otolaryngology and the New York Academy of Medicine.  

Dr. Sergius Ingerman, from House of Wisdom

More importantly, he was highly active in the socialist movement and a founder of the Russian Social Democratic Society.  His wife, Anna Amitin, died in 1931.  Their only child was Dr. Eugenia Ingerman.  Interman remained in The Braender until his death in 1943.

That year the building was sold to New York Savings Bank, which reconverted it to rental apartments.  The New York Times reported that it "was remodeled by the bank into eighty-eight suites."

Among the residents at the time were Dr. Walter L. Hervey, a retired member of the Board of Examiners of the Board of Education, and his wife Antoinette Bryant Hervey.  Antoinette was described by The New York Times as the "dean of women photographers in New York."  

A graduate of the Clarence H. White School of Photography, Antoinette Hervey made a 25-year photographic record of the construction of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine.  In doing so, she sometimes climbed the scaffolding high above the ground to get her shots.  In 1938 she donated her 3,000 prints to the Cathedral and a duplicate set to the New-York Historical Society.

John Thompson and his wife lived in a sixth-floor apartment here in the mid-1960s.  Thompson was a director of the Fairfield Foundation, which promoted international cultural exchanges.  Through that institution, the couple became acquainted with Nathan Nakasa, a 25-year-old Nigerian journalist who arrived in America in 1964 as a Neiman Fellow at Harvard University. 

Nakasa was an outspoken critic of Apartheid.  In his homeland he had edited The Classic, a literary magazine, and was on the staff of the magazine Drum of Johannesburg.  While here he wrote two pieces for The New York Times Magazine.  In 1965, after his one-year fellowship, the South African Government refused to allow him to return home.

The writer, who was living on Lenox Avenue, was understandably depressed.  On July 24, 1965, The New York Amsterdam News wrote, "Told of Nakasa's mood, Mr. and Mrs. John Thompson of 418 Central Park West, asked him over to their apartment Tuesday."  The article said that they talked about his troubles "at length" and attempted to ease his mind.  But shockingly, at around 9:10, Nakasa rushed to a window and jumped.  He died instantly.

Tonal composer Ben Weber lived here within the next decade.  Born in St. Louis in 1916 and never married, he came to New York in 1945.  Among his compositions were the Symphony on Poems of William Blake, the Violin Concerto, the Consort of Winds and the Concert Aria After Solomon.  The celebrated composer died of a heart attack in his apartment at the age of 62 on May 11, 1979.

photograph by Jim Henderson

Nine years before Weber's death, The Braender underwent an alteration.  It was likely at this time that the spectacular cornice was removed and ninth-floor balconies stripped off, leaving the once picturesque structure sadly denuded.

The Lost Scotch Presbyterian Church - 360 Central Park West

 

from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

On July 23, 1892, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the Scotch Presbyterian Church "will shortly commence the erection of a handsome church edifice...on the southwest corner of Central Park West and 96th street."  Simultaneously, said the article, a "lecture room" would be constructed on the north side of 95th Street, just west of Central Park West.  "The church will cost $150,000 and the lecture room $50,000," it said.  The total figure would translate to about $7.3 million in 2026.

The Scotch Presbyterian Church originated following a schism within the First Presbyterian Church in 1756.  After worshipping in several locations, the congregation erected a Sicilian Gothic-style church at 53 West 14th Street in 1852.  Now (despite Dr. Charles Henry Parkhurst saying that the trustees "exhibited cowardice" by abandoning the increasingly commercial West 14th Street), the trustees planned another move.

William H. Hume & Son was commissioned to design what The New York Times promised would be "an imposing Romanesque pile."  Construction on both buildings began in 1892 and by late summer of 1893 the West 95th Street structure was completed.  

The West 95th Street building, like the church, was Romanesque in style.  New-York Tribune, May 31, 1894 (copyright expired)

On September 18, the New-York Tribune reported that the "handsome new Sunday-school room of the Scotch Presbyterian Church...was formally opened yesterday afternoon."  The article noted, "On October 1 the church congregation will begin to worship in the Sunday-school room, which it will use till the completion of its new church...in Ninth-sixth-st., behind the Sunday-school."

On March 31, 1894, The New York Times reported on the cornerstone laying ceremony.  "W. H. Hume, the architect of the church building, spoke briefly, congratulating the officers of the church on the successful beginning of the work."  The newspaper described Hume's plans:

The foundation is of bluestone and the rest of the structure will be of Indiana limestone.  The iron-trussed roof will be covered with Spanish tiles.  The main entrance, on Ninety-sixth Street, will be under three romanesque [sic] arches, above which there is to be a large rose window.  At the northeast corner will be a high square tower.

Nine months later, the structure neared completion.  On December 30, 1894, The New York Times remarked, "The new building of the Scotch Presbyterian Church, Ninety-sixth Street and Central Park West, attracts and rewards the visitor by its solid, impressive architecture and the display of art in the adornments."  The artistic "adornments" included the Scotch thistle motif, which appeared "from the cornerstone to the cornice, over the organ, in the pew ends, and elsewhere."

The article vividly described the 52 stained-glass windows, executed by William Gibson's Sons.  In the center of the "great wheel window over the main entrance," said the article, was "an open Bible with the text, 'Thy word is truth.'"  It was surrounded by seven small round windows.

Completed in 1895, William H. Hume & Son had, indeed, created an "imposing Romanesque pile."  Turning its shoulder to Central Park West, the building faced West 96th Street.  Above a wide set of stone stairs, three arched entrances sat below the complex rose window within a yawning arch.  On the western side of the peaked roof was a romantic turret with a conical cap.  On the eastern side, a formidable bell tower rose high above Central Park West, terminating in a pyramidal cap.

Among the first social functions held by the church was a fund-raising event.  On September 22, 1895, the New-York Tribune said it "has hit upon a novel scheme to raise funds."  Congregants received "the oddest invitation they ever received."  The cards, "printed on coarse wrapping paper of the cheapest quality," invited them to a "Povertie Partie."  Written in Shakespearean-style prose like, "Ye women must wear ye cotton gowne and apron or equally befitting apparel," the invitations explained that the party was inspired by the "hard times which do now prevail."  A list of fines, ranging from 1 to 25 cents, would be levied on guests who violated the dress code, like wearing a scarfpin or silk dress.

Two years later, the rector, David G. Wylie, and his family moved into the new "manse" next door to the church on West 96th Street.  It was designed by Jardine, Kent & Jardine.

A sliver of the new rectory can be glimpsed at the right.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The Scotch Presbyterian Church, deeply rooted in the British Isles, was the scene of two mourning services for world leaders in 1901.  In his sermon on January 27, Reverend Wylie memorialized Queen Victoria and pointed out the late monarch's viewpoint on women.  He said in part, "she was interested in everything which tended to elevate woman.  She was a queen in her home, and believed that home was pre-eminently woman's real sphere, where she should shine as a queen."

Eight months later, on September 16, The New York Times reported on Wylie's sermon following the assassination of President William McKinley.  He said that the name of the fallen President would "be closely associated with those of Washington and Lincoln--an immortal triumvirate."

The Central Park West elevation.  Streetcar tracks run down the middle of the stone-paved avenue.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society.

Earlier that year, on July 28, the decorum of Sunday service was shattered.  During Reverend Wylie's sermon, a woman suddenly stood up.  The New-York Tribune reported, "Tearing her collar from around her neck, she placed it around her head and exclaimed: 'I am going to be married to Mr. Rockwell.'"

Wylie stopped speaking, the congregants turned to face the disturbance, and an usher rushed over to the woman.  The New-York Tribune described her as "tall, black haired and neatly attired in a white waist and a black skirt."  When the usher attempted to restrain her, she "fought desperately, and succeeded in tearing the lining entirely out of the man's coat."  She was finally carried to the vestry room where she continued to attempt to "get at the usher, especially after the unfortunate man, in his efforts to quiet the woman, told her that he was Mr. Rockwell."

An ambulance took Pearl Rockwell to the Harlem Hospital.  She was later transferred to Bellevue Hospital and placed in the "insane pavilion."  There it was learned that the 40-year-old and her husband were estranged.  "It is thought that grief over the separation unbalanced her mind," explained the New-York Tribune.

Rev. Dr. David G. Wylie, New-York Tribune, September 17, 1904 (copyright expired)

Reverend Wylie, like other pastors throughout the city, was highly opinionated and announced his views from the pulpit.  On July 3, 1904, for instance, he laid out the evils that threatened the United States.  He said in part:

One of our National evils is Mormonism.  Another is divorce.  The next menace is that of the saloon.  Corporate greed offers a menace not to be forgotten...There ought to be a greater regard for human life in this country than there is at present.  Our street railways are a source of danger because of the gross carelessness often exhibited.  The automobile threatens the lives of children, women, and old people.

In 1907 the Scotch Presbyterian Church merged with the First Reformed Presbyterian Church.  That congregation moved into the West 96th Street edifice and on March 16, the New York Herald confirmed that the consolidated congregations would operate "under the name of the Scotch Presbyterian Church."

David G. Wylie had married Jennie McWilliam in 1884.  The couple had four sons, Howard M., David R., John McWilliam, and Robert Sterling, and one daughter, Jennie D.  The family found themselves in the national spotlight when John went missing.

On April 26, John Wylie, who was 15 at the time, and his best friend, 16-year-old Buster Gutelius, sold their bicycles and took the $25 they obtained to buy train tickets to Port Jervis, New York.  The duo later explained that they "were in search of some needed outdoor recreation."

When the boys failed to come home from school that Friday afternoon, their parents had reported them missing.   By Tuesday the New York newspapers reached the Mill Rift Post Office near the Pennsylvania border.  The boys, who had established a camp within a cave, purchased an axe, some eggs, and other rations, from the general store that shared space with the post office.  

When Wylie and Gutelius returned, Postmaster Maloney compared their faces with the photographs.  Rather than confronting them and risking scaring them away, he quietly mailed off a letter to Rev. David G. Wylie.  On the morning of May 3, Dr. Wylie and another son arrived at the post office while the Gutelius family waited nervously on Central Park West for word.

Maloney sent a neighbor, Samuel Wilson, to the mountain cave with word that the postmaster needed to see him.  Leaving Buster cooking bacon and flapjacks, John Wylie rushed to town.  When he entered Maloney’s store, he was confronted with his father and brother.  The quixotic adventure was over.

The New York Times wrote, “Dr. Wylie was much impressed by the natural habitation, and was delighted to find that the boys had been living in a comfortable manner.  However, they had but $2 left.”

The following morning the New-York Tribune ran a headline reading “Cave Boys Come Home.”  The newspaper advised “The erstwhile cave men, or cave boys, did not willingly leave their subterranean retreat in a mountainside near Millville, Penn., but they came back at the earnest persuasion of Dr. Wylie.”

Reverend David G. Wiley would suffer unspeakable tragedy  in 1910.  On October 8, he conducted the funeral of John McWilliam Wylie, whose adventure had captured America's attention three years earlier.  The New York Times remarked, "members of the [United Boy's Brigade of America], his classmates in public, high, and Sunday schools will be present."

Jennie McWilliam Wylie fell sick upon his son's death.  Less than a month later, on November 4, she died.  The New-York Tribune said that it was thought that the loss of her son had "hastened Mrs. Wylie's death."

After occupying the pulpit of the Scotch Presbyterian Church for 23 years, on February 23, 1914, The New York Times reported that Wylie had resigned to take the position of Secretary of the Board of Church Erection of the Presbyterian Church in the United States.  (On October 1 that year, the newspaper reported on his engagement to Martha Richter Thomas.)

The Reverend Dr. Robert Watson was installed as the new pastor on January 10, 1915.  Two years later, the congregation's name was changed to the Second Presbyterian Church.

In the post-World War I years, congregations nation-wide began embracing a new concept: the skyscraper church.  Parishes replaced their church edifices with office or apartment buildings that incorporated worship space within the lower floors.  On January 17, 1928, The New York Times reported that the Second Presbyterian Church would lease its property "to the Vinross Realties Company, Inc."  The article explained that the developer would replace the church with "a fifteen-story apartment building, which will house and support the church and its various activities."

Demolition of the 33-year-old church structure began in 1928.  It was replaced by 360 Central Park West, designed by Rosario Candela.

image via streeteasy.com

A Severe Transformation - 1 West 103rd Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1892, developer J. C. Barth completed an ambitious project -- the erection of nine "five-story brick and stone flats" on Central Park West.  Designed by Edward Wenz in the Romanesque Revival style, the buildings stretched from 103rd to 104th Street.  Seven of them faced the avenue and two opened onto the side streets.  Wenz faced the buildings in yellow Roman brick atop a striated brownstone base.  Each of the entrances sat below layered arches upheld by clustered columns.  Here, the architect used historic license by adding Renaissance inspired decorations.

Brutalized today, the former entrance originally had a glass transom.  The intricate carvings on either side once continued into the now blank upper panels.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The southern building, 1 West 103rd Street, attracted a variety of tenants, including several theatrical figures.  Among the first was actor and manager Harry Hine, who, with his wife, were original tenants.

Two years prior to moving into 1 West 103rd Street, Hine received a windfall.  On June 6, 1890, The Times-Democrat said he "left Hallen & Hall's 'Later On' in St. Paul as soon as he heard of his good fortune and came straight to New York."  That "good fortune" was his inheriting $50,000 from Horace S. Lanfair.  The amount would translate to about $1.8 million in 2026.

The Indianapolis News called Hine, "one of the best known of the younger generation of American theatrical managers."  He would not enjoy newly found wealth, however, for long.  At the time of his inheritance, he was already showing symptoms of consumption, known today as tuberculosis.  He became ill in the fall of 1892 and died in his apartment on February 12, 1893. 

Alfred W. Barthelmess married actress Caroline Harris on September 2, 1893.  The newlyweds moved into 1 West 103rd Street where their only son, Richard Semler Barthelmess, was born on May 9, 1895.  Alfred died at the age of 34 on May 5, 1896.  Caroline not only continued her stage career, she tutored her son in the dramatic arts.  

Actress Caroline Harris and her actor son, Richard Barthelmess.  (original source unknown)

Both would go into silent films, and Richard would become a well-known silent film actor, starring opposite Lillian Gish in D. W. Griffith's Broken Blossoms and Way Down East.  He would go on to co-found the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and be nominated twice for the Academy Award for Best Actor.

Celebrated actress Alice Fischer and her Shakespearean actor husband William Harcourt King lived here as early as 1902.  Alice was born in January 1869 and debuted on the stage in 1887.  The following year she first appeared on Broadway in the role of Minna in Little Lord Fauntleroy.

Born in 1866, King was known to audiences as William Harcourt.  He and Alice were married on May 7, 1893.

Alice Fischer suffered a frighting incident on the night of October 16, 1902.  After her performance that night, she was heading home in a carriage on Fifth Avenue when, at around midnight, a man in evening dress walked directly in front of the vehicle and was nearly run down.  The man "grabbed the bridle and began to abuse" the cabman, reported The New York Times.  When the driver "whipped up his horse to go on," the angry pedestrian pried a brick from the pavement and hurled it at the cab, breaking the side window and striking Alice's face.  He then dashed into the University Club.

The New York Times reported that Alice "drove up to the West Forty-seventh Street Station...bleeding from a severe cut on her cheek."  After reporting the incident and giving police a description of the attacker, said the article, "Miss Fischer drove away, saying she was going to a doctor to have her wound dressed."

Alice Fischer, from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Alice's personal maid was Sally Pate, and their relationship had an unexpected start.  On March 29, 1899, Sally arrived from Atlanta, Georgia to audition for Williams & Walker, a minstrel company "that made a specialty of good singing and dancing," according to the New York Herald.  But her train was delayed by three hours and when she arrived at the theater, the role had already been cast.

The dejected would-be entertainer "looked about for some other theatrical engagement," said the newspaper.  Finding a position for a female Black entertainer was difficult, at the time.  Alice Fischer, who heard of her plight, realized that as much as did Sally.  The next day Sally was working for Alice Fischer as her "lady in waiting," as worded by the New York Herald. 

Now, eight years later on April 16, 1907, Sally was still living  and working for Alice and William.  That night she was married in the drawing room here to William Henry Bunn.    

The entrance to 1 West 103rd Street is at the left, on the side street.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The next morning, Alice left for Chicago on tour and, apparently, William accompanied her.  Bunn worked at the ice cream counter of a West 103rd Street pharmacy and the newlyweds had no money for a honeymoon.  The New York Herald said that Alice had given them the use of "the entire flat while the actress is in Windtown."

An interesting tenant here as early as 1905 was Ottoman Zar-Adusht Ha'nish, described by the New York Herald as "the Public Instructor of Mazdaznan Philosophy in America."  Ha'nish was not only its instructor, but he was the founder of the neo-Zoroastrian religious movement.  Among its tenets were a vegetarian diet, "intestinal hygiene," and fasting.  

One of his students, Mrs. Brownie Rathbone Weaverson, took the practice too far, according to police, who arrested her on March 18, 1905 "for practising [sic] medicine and attempting to cure a gangrene leg."  In reporting the incident, the New York Herald called Ha'nish, "the head of Mrs. Weaverson's cult."

Terra cotta panels depict fearsome chimeras.  photograph by Anthony Bellov.

An advertisement in The New York Times in 1907 offered a seven-room corner apartment with bath at $75, or about $2,700 per month today.  The ad mentioned that the apartment had a "fine view."

The building was updated in July 1919.  The owner, H. S. Proctor, hired architects DeRosa & Pereira to do "improvements" that cost him the equivalent of more than $1.8 million today.  Presumably, the renovations included electricity and improved plumbing.

Tenants continued to be professional and upper-middle-class.  Among them in the 1920s was journalist Edward E. Marriott.  Born in England in 1862, he came to America as a boy.  In the 1890s, he was hired as a reporter for The New York World.  In 1918, he joined the editorial staff of the New York American.

On January 6, 1944, The New York Times reported that the nine buildings, including 1 West 103rd Street, had been purchased by Herbert H. Bachrach and Ira Rosenstock.  The article said they were "modernized into 110 apartments of small units."

The 1971 project resulted in staggering contrast in material and architectural styles. photograph by Anthony Bellov

That renovation could not compare with the changes that were completed in 1971.  Almost all of the 1892 facade was stripped away.  (By conserving sections of the exterior, the developers did not have to conform to "new building" conditions.)  The original entrances on 103rd and 104th Street were preserved--more or less--and bricked up.  Although described as a remodeling because of the various surviving elements on the side street elevations, the  term "facadism" would be more accurately applied to the project, but even then only by the most generous definition.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The Lost Park Cottage - Central Park West and 70th Street

 

A stone carriage step sits on the curb around 1890. photo by Robert L. Bracklow,  from the collection of the Library of Congress (cropped)

When Calvert Vaux and Frederick Law Olmsted won the Central Park Competition in 1858, Eighth Avenue above 58th Street was undeveloped other than scattered, scraggly garden farms.  On February 26, 1869, The Jewish Messenger commented, 

If any Gothamite of twenty-five years ago had intimated that he had faith in Eighth Avenue lots, he would have been pronounced worthy of confinement at Bloomingdale, the natural end of such speculations.

(The "Bloomingdale" to which the writer referred was the Bloomingdale Insane Asylum.)  But the developing park, the end of the Civil War, and the relentless expansion of the city northward was changing the area.  The Jewish Messenger's article continued, "The suggestion of a grand future for the Western boundary of our Park is no longer regarded as ridiculous--it will be a formidable rival to 'the finest street in the world.'"

The "finest street in the world," at the time, of course, was Fifth Avenue.  And the journalist's prediction that Eighth Avenue (later Central Park West) would become one of the preeminent residential thoroughfares in Manhattan was already proving viable.

Just days before that article, the southwest corner of Central Park West and West 70th Street was purchased for $25,000 (about $594,000 by 2025 terms).  The Jewish Messenger noted that the sale price for the vacant corner lot would have purchased the entire block a generation earlier.

The parcel was resold on December 29, 1876.  A prim, two-story frame building was erected on the site.  The vernacular style structure shared the block with wooden houses erected a generation earlier.

The edifice was leased to H. C. Borger, who moved his family into the upper floor and operated his Park Cottage, a tavern and restaurant, downstairs.  

Ole Hille came to New York City from Denmark and found a job as a waiter here as early as 1886.  He shared a room nearby with another bachelor.  On the night of February 25, 1887, the roommate panicked when he discovered that Ole had taken laudanum.  The drug, a mixture of opium and alcohol, was considered a panacea at the time.  But it was also a popular and convenient means of suicide.  The roommate rushed out to find a policeman, and Ole was arrested.  (Attempted suicide was a jailable offense in the 19th century.)

After sitting in jail for two days, Ole Hille faced a magistrate in the Harlem Court.  Happily for the Danish waiter, The Sun reported, "Hille said he took the drug for neuralgia.  He was discharged."

Rowhouses had reached the area when the Park Cottage (right) and its neighboring houses were photographed around 1890.  photograph by Robert Bracklow from the collection of the Library of Congress.

The Park Cottage was lost in foreclosure in 1893.  By then, the neighborhood around the wooden building would have been unrecognizable to the journalist from The Jewish Messenger nearly three decades earlier.  Rows of modern houses and apartment buildings surrounded the block and the anachronistic structures upon it faced inevitable doom.

On June 8, 1895, The Sun reported that Congregation Shearith Israel, "recently purchased a parcel of ground on the southwest corner of Central Park West and Seventieth street."  The article said the congregation "is about to erect on this site a new synagogue there."

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

The Park Cottage and at least one of its neighbors were demolished for the striking Congregation Shearith Israel synagogue, designed by Arnold W. Brunner and Thomas Tyron.

The Fred F. French Company's 1917 370 Central Park West

 
 

photograph by Beyond My Ken

Fred Fillmore French founded the Fred F. French Company in 1910 when he was just 27 years old.  At the time, the firm consisted of himself and a boy whom he paid $15 a week.  He succeeded in the real estate business.  In 1917, just seven years after starting out, he formed the 370 Central Park West Company, and filed plans on March 17 for a “six-story elevator apartment” on the southwest corner of Central Park West and 97^th Street.  The property cost $150,000 and construction would add another $300,000, bringing the total outlay for the project to about $11 million in 2025 terms.
 
The Fred F. French Company’s architects designed a charming and romantic whimsy that foretold the neo-Tudor craze that would sweep the nation in the coming decade.  By inserting deep light courts along 97^th Street, they created the feel of a Shakespearean village on a modern scale.  The six stories of “common brick,” were enhanced with Tudor half-timbering, sections of rough plaster, and a mountainscape of gables.
 
The Fred F. French Company wasted no time in marketing the project.  An advertisement in The New York Times on July 24, 1917 read:
 

The apartment house unique, now under construction, S.W. corner 97^th St.  An old fashioned touch to a new fashioned home.  Suites 2 to 7 rooms $650 to $1800.  French Management Corporation.

 
The highest-end rent would equal $3,500 per month in today’s money.
 
Construction was completed within seven months.  Some of the earliest tenants were affected by the war raging in Europe.  On October 6, U.S. Navy Ensign Donald Stewart Tuttle married Eleanor Church Gould in Lyons Falls, New York while on a four-day furlough from the Brooklyn Navy Yard.  The Sun mentioned, “the young couple started by automobile for New York, where they will be at home after November 1 at 370 Central Park West.”
 
Shortly after Helen Windsor Wilson, the widow of David H. Wilson, moved into 370 Central Park West with her son, Stafford Clay, the 25-year-old man was deployed to the battlefront with the 107^th Infantry.  Tragically, Stafford Clay Wilson was killed in battle near Peronne, France on September 29, 1918.
 
Another tragedy occurred here seven months later.  John A. Goodwin, a real estate operator, occupied an apartment with his wife Eleanor.  Following the sudden death of his father early in 1919, a traumatized Goodwin suffered a nervous breakdown.  Like most well-heeled couples at the time, the Goodwins had separate bedrooms.  Eleanor awoke during the night of April 15 to discover a horrific scene.  The New-York Tribune reported that Goodwin “committed suicide…by hanging himself from the hinge of his bedroom door.”
 
One of the most colorful residents of 370 Central Park West was Maud L. Ceballos, an actress whose stage name was Mona Desmond, “the Dresden China Doll.”  She had had a remarkable past.  In 1903 she was taken to police headquarters from a Chicago club following a shooting.  There she and her escort gave fictitious names.  

The following year she eloped with J. Reed Fuller, a Chicago businessman.  The Sun remarked, “His disappearance after their marriage caused considerable comment.”  That “disappearance” resulted in divorce.  A year later she was named in the divorce suit of Edna May and Fred Titus. 
 

An early cabinet card of Mona Desmond. (copyright expired)

In August 1910, Maud sued Clifford R. Hendrix for breach of promise.  She alleged “he had for three or four years kept on promising to marry me as soon as I got a divorce from my first husband, Mr. Fuller.”  She lost that suit.
 
Maud later married her dancing partner, Larry Ceballos.  Shortly after their divorce in August 1919, she moved into an apartment at 370 Central Park West.  Her name was back in the newspapers on May 8, 1920 when she once again sued Clifford R. Hendrix—this time on his wedding day.  Her $100,000 suit accused him of a second breach of promise.  Maud said he had paid for her divorce and further alleged that he had promised to marry her on August 16, 1919.  At the time, she said, he was in the process of building a house for them in Larchmont, New York.  When Hendrix’s bride, Eugenia Terry received word of the filing, she scoffed, “Some women seem to think they have a lien on men who take them out to tea.”
 
Hendrix told a reporter, “I never promised to marry Miss Ceballos nor did I ever entertain the idea of so doing.  I knew her in my bachelor days, that is all.  She has been married and has been freed.”
 
While she was at it, Maud sued her broker, Frederick B. Florian on December 7, 1921.  She claimed she had given him, “between $6,000 and $7,000 to invest for her,” according to the New York Herald, “and could not get him to return the money.”
 
Maud’s cause against Clifford R. Hendrix began on October 31, 1922.  She was seriously grilled by the defense team about her history of lawsuits and love affairs.  Two days later, the New-York Herald reported she had dropped the charges.  Her attorney, James M. Fisk, explained that the cross-examination had made her so nervous that it was “physically impossible for her to go on with the case.  She just cannot submit to any further examination,” he said.
 
Less controversial were the several artistic tenants in 370 Central Park West.  In 1921, Frederic Warren’s apartment doubled as his studio where he taught operatic voice.  His advertisements offered, “Full preparation for the concert and operatic stage.”
 
Among his neighbors was Helena Marsh, a contralto with the Metropolitan Opera Company.  When she returned home from the theater just before midnight on September 26, 1921, she found her door open, but barricaded from within.  The New-York Tribune reported, “She called a policeman, who with the aid of the elevator boy, forced the door in.”  The burglar had escaped through a window.  “Miss Marsh found her apartment in ruins, $400 in cash and about $5,000 worth of jewelry stolen,” said the article. 

Helena Marsh (original source unknown)

Living in what the New-York Tribune described as “an expensively furnished apartment” at the time was Jacques Roberto Cibrario, a Soviet citizen and “purchasing agent in America for the Russian Soviet government of motion picture machinery and films.”  He was given the job of purchasing American-made films and film-making equipment in 1919 by the Soviet Department of Public Information.  The materials were to be used “in making pictures for the education of the peasants in Communistic doctrine.”  The New-York Tribune explained, “the Soviet rulers had been much handicapped by inability to reach the peasantry through ordinary educational propaganda, since only a small proportion of the public could read.”
 
But now in America and with a fortune in the National City Bank supplied by the Soviet Government, Cibrario seems to have been enjoying the capitalistic lifestyle.  On September 1, 1921, he was indicted on four counts of grand larceny “in connection with the swindling of a good part of $1,000,000 advanced by the Soviets to him for the purchase of motion picture apparatus and films,” said the New York Herald.
 

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The building continued to attract musical and artistic types.  In 1926 Herman Neuman had his studio here.  The wide-ranging musician advertised, “accompanist, vocal coach, piano,” and “Musical Director Radio WNYC.”
 
Operatic and concert tenor and conductor John Hand lived here in 1931 with his wife, the former Ruth Worman.  That year he founded the New York Light Opera Guild to introduce young singers to the press and public.  The Hands’ apartment now doubled as the Guild’s administrative office and de facto audition hall.  On June 24, 1933, The New York Sun explained, “This is an educational and cultural institution for the advancement of American singers, and the stranger in New York, looking for an outlet for his talents, could find no better.”
 
Nine years later, on April 16, 1942, the Kingston Daily Freeman announced that the New York Light Opera Guild would stage Fatinitz early that June.  The article noted, “Preliminary hearings are now being conducted at headquarters, 370 Central Park West, where applications for auditions should be made.”  John Hand and his wife were still living here on October 11, 1956 when the 70-year-old suffered a fatal heart attack.
 
Professor of Economics at Columbia University Arthur F. Burns and his wife lived here in the 1950s.  Born in Stanislau, Austria in 1904, he graduated from Columbia University in 1925, and received his Ph.D. there in 1934.  He had added to his responsibilities in 1945 when he became research director of the National Bureau of Economic Research.
 

image via compass.com

While many of the low-rise buildings along Central Park West were replaced in the 20^th century by soaring apartments, Fred F. French’s picturesque 370 Central Park West survived unscathed, a charming touch of old England among its Art Deco neighbors.