The 1883 Frank B. Houghton House - 30 West 130th Street

image via zillow.com

In 1844, when Harlem was still dotted with farms and country estates, John Jacob Astor I acquired a portion of two farms for $10,000 (about $445,000 in 2026).  Upon his death in 1848, the blockfront that would become West 130th Street between Fifth and Lenox Avenues was inherited by his son, William Backhouse Astor.  It passed to William Backhouse Astor, Jr. in 1875.  

The blockfront would become lined with 28 private homes, erected in three groups.  Architect Charles Buek designed the first--8 through 22 West 130th Street--in 1880.  They were completed in 1881 and the following year ground was broken for the second group, 22 through 38.  (The final section, 40 through 62, would be completed in 1883.)  No doubt to reduce costs, it appears that the builder simply followed Charles Buek's original designs in erecting 22 through 62 West 103rd Street, since there is no architect of record.  The resultant row was called "the Block Beautiful" in Claude McKay's 1928 novel Home to Harlem.

30 West 130th Street is the second from left.  image via streeteasy.com

Designed as mirror-image pairs separated by a carriage drive that accessed the rear yards, the homes were three stories tall above short basements.  Their neo-Grec-style facades were clad in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Generous gardens fronted delightful wooden porches.  Dentiled brick cornices sat above brick friezes decorated with recessed quatrefoil designs.

Astor retained possession of the houses, leasing them as rental income.  His first tenant of 30 West 130th Street was Frank R. Houghton, a real estate agent, and his widowed step-mother, Virginia Patten Houghton.  Frank was born in Halifax, Vermont in 1825 to Royall and Sarah Farrell.  Sarah died in 1851 and Royall married Virginia Patten in May that same year.

In the spring of 1886, Virginia Patten Houghton was in Pass, Mississippi where she died "suddenly," according to the New-York Tribune, on April 3.  Her funeral was held in the 130th Street house on April 10.

There would be another funeral in the parlor before long.  Frank Houghton moved away soon after his step-mother's death and the next tenant, Peter Asten, died in the house at the age of 84 on January 16, 1887.  His funeral was held two days later.

The house next became home to Thomas C. and William McAlpine Wiswall, partners in the Pennsylvania-based Wiswall Paint Co., and their families.  Thomas C. Wiswall was the company's president and a sergeant in the Seventh Regiment of the New York National Guard.  He and his wife, the former Mary Brown, had no children.

Thomas C. Wiswall, Seventh Regiment Gazette, October 1923, (copyright expired)

William McAlpine Wiswall was born 1841 in Troy, New York but was educated in Port Austin, Michigan.  The New York Times would recall that one of his teachers was James A. Garfield.  William's wife was Louisa Bishop Chatterton, and also living here were Louise's parents, Thomas and Adeline M. Bishop Chatterton.  

Thomas Chatterton was born in New Haven, Connecticut in 1818 and started out as a merchant tailor there.  The New Haven Morning & Courier would recall, "he rapidly won favor, patronage and success, but his energetic spirit craving a larger field, he removed to New York."  Chatterton engaged in the wholesale, ready-made clothing business.  He retired in the 1880s.  Each year, Thomas Chatterton would return to New Haven to spend his summers at the Branford Point House.

Louisa Bishop Wiswall died in the house on September 26, 1895 at the age of 51.  Interestingly, her funeral was not held in the parlor, but at the Church of the Puritans on 130th Street at Fifth Avenue.

In 1897 Thomas Chatterton was the treasurer of the first panel of the Sheriff's Jury, a non-judicial group that assisted the Sheriff's Department in administrative work.  In January 1898, the 80-year-old attended the group's annual dinner at Delmonico's and during the evening he became ill.  He died in the 130th Street house two weeks later, on February 6.  His funeral was held in the parlor on the 9th.

Adeline Bishop Chatterton survived her husband by four years.  She died at the age of 79 on February 7, 1902.  Her funeral, too, was held in the house.

William Astor bequeathed the 130th Street row to his grandchildren, Mary, James and Sarah Van Alen.  In 1902, they sold 30 West 130th Street to Fannie and Ferdinand Braun, who operated it as a boarding house.

Among their early residents were William P. Kelly and his family, who would remain at least through 1909.  The parlor of 30 West 130th Street, which had frequently been used for funerals, was the setting of Emma Foord Kelly's marriage to Samuel Pierre Hull on October 24, 1906.

A less respectable boarder was Louisa Marcarious, who was arrested in her rooms on April 20, 1907.  Born in New Orleans in 1883, she was described by The New York Times as being "well dressed and is apparently an educated woman."  She was charged with "receiving stolen goods" from her accomplices, described by the newspaper as "two negroes" who "seemed uncouth companions for the refined-looking white woman."

The complainant against Louisa Marcarious and her cohorts was Margaret Melbourne, who said, "her home had been robbed of silverware and other property on June 4, 1906."  Some of her stolen silverware was discovered in "the rooms of the Marcarious woman and her companions."  The article said that another burglary victim had been asked to inspect "the loot recovered" in hopes they could identify "plunder stolen from his house."

Louisa Marcarious was an anomaly among the otherwise upstanding boarders, like the family of Thaddeus Moriarty, for instance, who occupied rooms in 1911.  Daughter Theresa S. Moriarty was president of the Ladies' Ursuline Provincial Auxiliary, a philanthropic and social group.  And on June 23, 1911, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Thaddeus Moriarty and Miss Theresa S. Moriarty of 30 West 130th Street are at the North End Hotel, in Ocean Grove, N.J., until the end of August."

Susan L. Pierce purchased the house in March 1921.  She operated it as a rooming house, and among her first roomers was Elbert Butler.  He was arrested on February 1, 1923, for spitting in a subway station.  In imposing a $5 fine, the infuriated magistrate railed, "It is a disgrace the way every subway station is filled with men smoking and spitting on the platform and the track bed and nothing is done about it."

The wooden porch was painted in several colors in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Reords & Information Services.

By the World War II era, the Harlem neighborhood was predominantly black and racial tensions were high throughout the city.  On March 19, 1943, The New York Times began an article saying, "While three Negro youths were being held in the stabbing early yesterday of a 17-year-old youth in a Harlem 'racial' fight, it was announced that 150 rookie policemen have been assigned to the Harlem area."

The incident began when, according to police, "a gang of twenty Negroes crowded around Nick Adams, 17, of 42 East 129th Street, as he was standing in front of his house."  One of the teens demanded, "Are you a white boy?"

Adams replied, "I'm a gypsy."

The gang attacked and Adams attempted to fight back until he was fatally stabbed in the back.  Police arrived in time to arrest three of the gang members, including 19-year-old James Green who lived at 30 West 130th Street.

In 1981, the house next door was vacant and boarded up, a fertile target for vandals.  photograph by Andrew Dolkart via the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission.

By the last quarter of the 20th century, the house next door was vacant and neglected.  Although the Landmarks Preservation Commission sued the owner in an effort to pressure him to repair the seriously dilapidated structure, it was demolished in 2021, leaving No. 30 isolated along what was now known as Astor Row.

image via streeteasy.com

Today there are 11 apartments in 30 West 130th Street.  More than a bit bedraggled, it nevertheless survives as part of a forward thinking community-planned project by one of Manhattan's wealthiest 19th century figures.

The William Cune Holbrook House - 10 West 130th Street

 

image via city realty.com

The forward thinking John Jacob Astor I accumulated land in Harlem in 1844 for $10,000 (about $445,000 in 2026).  Formerly part of two farms, it sat vacant and when Astor died four years later, the block that would eventually be girded by 129th and 130th Streets and Fifth and Lenox Avenues passed to his son, William Backhouse Astor.  He, in turn, bequeathed it to his sons, John Jacob Astor III and William Backhouse Astor Jr.  William received the 130th Street portion of the property.

In 1880, architect Charles Buek designed the first of three groups of houses that would line the block.  Nos. 8 through 22 West 130th Street were completed the following year.  The full project would be finished in 1883, creating a charming streetscape that would prompt Claude McKay to call the row "the Block Beautiful" in his 1928 novel Home to Harlem.

Buek designed the homes in mirror-image pairs, each pair separated by a carriage drive that accessed the rear yards.  Three stories tall above short basements, their brick facades were clad in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Harking to the district's rural cottages of a generation earlier, Buek sat them back from the property line, creating prim gardens and abling him to add delightful, spindle-decorated wooden porches.  The lintels were decorated with simple neo-Grec rosettes.  Rather than using a more costly pressed metal cornice, Buek designed a dentiled brick version above a brick frieze decorated with recessed quatrefoil designs.

Astor retained possession of the houses, eventually passing them to his grandchildren, Mary, James and Sarah Van Alen.  In the meantime, they were used as rental income.  

The first occupants of 10 West 130th Street were Colonel William Cune Holbrook and his family.  Born in Brattleboro, Vermont on June 14, 1842, Holbrook was the son of Vermont Governor Frederick Holbrook.  He graduated from Harvard Law School and served in the Union Army throughout the Civil War.  A member of the law firm Barret, Brinsmade & Barret, he married Anna Chalmers in 1872.

When they moved into 10 West 130th Street, the couple had two surviving children--three-year-old Margaret, and one-year-old Marion Goodhue.  Two sons, William Bradford and Chalmers William, would arrive in 1884 and 1887 respectively.  (Two sons, William Jr. and Richard Knowlton had died in infancy.)  Sadly, William Bradford Holbrook died at the age of one-and-a-half on June 28, 1886.  

Also living in the house was George Chalmers, possibly Anna's brother or nephew, who was graduated from Yale University in 1886, and Charles B. Tooker, a coal and feed dealer.   Tooker was apparently a boarder and would list his address with the Holbrooks through 1888.

Anna Holbrook was an active supporter of the Harlem Day Nursery on 116th Street and Second Avenue.  The New-York Tribune deemed it, "one of the most practical of the charities of Harlem."  Anna's involvement was reflected in an article in the New-York Tribune on April 10, 1892, which said, "A musical entertainment and a pastoral operetta called 'Little Bo-Peep' will be given in aid of the Harlem Day Nursery on Wednesday afternoon and evening at the home of Mrs. Holbrook, No. 10 West One-hundred-and-thirtieth-st.  The programme will be given entirely by children."

In June 1895, William Cune Holbrook was appointed by Mayor William Lafayette Strong as a justice "of the new criminal court," as reported by The Medico-Legal Journal.  According to The New York Times, his salary was the equivalent of $333,000 in 2026.

Justice William Cune Holbrook, Men of Vermont: An Illustrated Biographical History of Vermonters and Sons of Vermont, 1894 (copyright expired)

In January 1898, Anna began suffering "brain trouble," as worded by The New York Times.  That summer, the family traveled to Brattleboro, Vermont where William's widowed father still lived.  Anna's condition worsened and she fell into a coma.  She died about a week later, on September 29, at the age of 53.

Shortly afterward, Holbrook left the 130th Street house, moving to 16 West 116th Street where he died in March 1904.

In the meantime, 10 West 130th Street was rented to Sidney Buner Mills and his wife, the former Maria D. Freeborn.  Sidney Mills was associated with Rogers, Peet & Co., men's clothiers, and was the secretary of the Louis Berghart-Mills Company. 

Born in 1843 and 1845 respectively, Sidney and Maria had four children, Dewitt Wilde, Marshall Freeborn, Sidney Jr., and Rushton Lenox.  Living with the family was Eliza Freeborn Mills and her son, Benjamin Freeborn Mills.  Eliza was the sister of Maria and the widow of Sidney's brother, Isaac Smith Mills, who had died in 1895. 

Rushton was 18 years old in 1901 when became involved with a bizarre missing person incident.  Myra Morgan was two years older than he, and The New York Times explained that he had "been a playmate of the girl" in their youth.

The daughter of Dr. G. E. Morgan, Myra disappeared from their Harlem home early in September.  The New York Times said that two weeks later Dr. Morgan learned, "that she had disguised herself as a boy before leaving home."  Indeed, Myra checked into the Hotel Boulevard, registering as M. Morgan.  The newspaper said, 

She was dressed in a neat suit of gray flannel, a derby hat, and low patent leather shoes.  She had clipped her hair short, and as she wore glasses and carried herself with a self-possessed masculine swagger, the hotel clerk never suspected she was not a young man.

Equally duped was C. E. Horton, the assistant manager of the H. W. Johns Manufacturing Company.  The morning after Myra settled into the Hotel Boulevard, Horton hired her in the mailroom.  Horton later explained, "as she appeared to be a bright young man, I gave her a job as mail clerk at $5 a week...and as she was remarkably quick in catching on I thought I had found a very bright boy."

Clark Greenwood had been a mutual of Rushton and Myra during their childhood.  Now he recruited Rushton to help find her.  "They made a blind search of different Harlem hotels until they finally located Miss Morgan," said the article.  Pretending surprise at their "chance" meeting, they arranged to go to the theater that evening.  The boys then reported back to Dr. Morgan, who took his wayward daughter home.

At the time of Myra Morgan's adventure, Marshall Freeborn Mills was attending Princeton University where he was a football star.  He graduated in 1902, assisted in coaching the Princeton football team that year, and coached the New York University team during the 1905 season.  Rather surprisingly, he was listed in city directories as a "decorator" the following year.

As Anna Holbrook had been, Eliza Mills was involved in a nursery.  In 1902, she was a director of the Silver Cross Day Nursery.  And by 1905, she was the first vice-president of The Haarlem Philharmonic Society.

Sidney Buner Mills died died "suddenly" on November 29, 1911 at the age of 68.  His funeral was held in the house on December 2.

Four months later, on April 14, 1912, Maria Freeborn Mills died.  In reporting on her death, The New York Times mentioned that she had suffered "a long illness."

The Mills family left 10 West 130th Street soon after.  The house became home to widowed Joseph Hook Boyd, an appraiser in the Custom House.  Born in 1839, he served in the Lincoln Cavalry during the Civil War.  His employment with the Custom House began in 1885.

While at his desk on the afternoon of July 12, 1915, Boyd was attacked with "acute indigestion."  He was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital where he died a few hours later.  His funeral was held in the parlor of 10 West 130th Street on July 15.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Van Alen family next leased the house to Leroy A. Williamson, an "electrical inventor."  He lived here quietly for a year until, for some unknown reason, he checked into a room in the Hotel Manhattan on February 12, 1916.  

The New York Herald reported, "He remained constantly in the room."  Then, on the night of February 13, "he began to shout and when attendants went in they found him talking incoherently."  Police were called and, as reported by The New York Times, "according to the patrolmen, Williamson said he was dickering with the Allies for the purchase of an electric invention by which German armies could be annihilated."  He told the policemen that "the fortune he would amass by the purchase of this invention would 'make Morgan and Rockefeller look like pikers.'"

Patrolman Wisner patronized the inventor, inviting him to "take a ride in a carriage."  Williamson accepted "only upon the condition that Wisner accept $10,000 and an automobile," said The New York Times.  The "carriage" turned out to be a Bellevue Hospital ambulance.  The New York Herald titled its report, "Inventor Goes Mad In Hotel."

Starting in 1912, the Van Alens began liquidating the row of homes.  Six years later, on November 1, 1918, an advertisement for 10 West 130th Street in The New York Times read:

Opportunity to live in a fine street in good style for little money; three-story house, two baths; suitable to sublet in rooms or floors to good advantage.

By the time of the advertisement, the demographics of the Harlem neighborhood had greatly changed.  In 1914, more than 50,000 Black residents lived in the district.  No. 10 West 130th Street became a rooming house, with almost all of its tenants Black as evidenced by positions-wanted advertisements posted in 1921.

One of them, which appeared in the New York Herald on April 26, read, "Couple, light colored; cook; wife waitress-chambermaid, city, country; experience."  Another, on November 4, read, "Girl, colored, wishes half time work, mornings or afternoons.  Lucas, 10 West 130th."  

The charming streetscape was deemed The Block Beautiful in 1928.  image via cityrealty.com

Renting a room here in 1925 was Theodore Williams, who worked as a waiter in the dining car of the Atlantic Coast Line Express.  On February 27 that year, another train "crashed into the rear end of the Florida express," reported The New York Age, "smashing and overturning a dining car, and causing the electric engine pulling the local to topple over also."  The two trains immediately caught fire "and burned until there was nothing left."

The article said that there were few passengers in the dining car, "but the waiters and cooks, all colored, were bustling about, busy preparing for the breakfast rush."  Theodore Williams initially survived the disaster, but he died at a hospital later.

Mrs. Mary G. Miles lived here in 1963 when she received a Federal Citation.  She started working as a clerk typist with the Veterans Administration in Washington, D.C. in 1942.  The New York Amsterdam News said she, "improved in her proficiency and acquired additional responsibilities in the duties of her rating."  When the agency moved to Manhattan, she came along and in 1948 she was transferred to the Army Transport Service, and then to the Military Sea Transportation Service in 1950.  On November 29, 1963, she was cited for her two decades "of faithful government service."

A renovation completed in 1967 resulted in one apartment on the first floor and furnished rooms on the upper stories.  After the turn of the century, 10 West 130th Street was restored to a single family house.  It was sold in 2022 for $3.85 million.

Chas. Buek's No. 42 Riverside Drive

 

The vast fifth floor terrace came after a devastating 1920 fire.

Architect Charles Duggin was actively developing the east side of Manhattan in the years following the Civil War with his partner James Crossman.   A young, promising architect, Charles Buek worked for the partners as they designed rowhouses for Manhattan’s middle and upper classes.  When the firm dissolved, Buek established his own practice, as Charles Buek & Co., and took Charles Duggin with him as partner.   Now not only did Charles Buek act as both architect and developer; by the turn of the century he would be the principal in the Charles Buek Construction Company as well.

Buek designed and erected speculative residences throughout the city.  In 1897 he turned his attention to the Upper West Side’s answer to Fifth Avenue—Riverside Drive.  A year earlier prolific architect Clarence True had started construction of high-end Elizabethan Revival mansions which filled the block between 76^th and 77^th Street.   But for some reason one plot, No. 42, was not included.

Buek purchased the plot amid the True houses and in 1897 started construction.  His design was a liberal mixture of historic styles, deemed “Eclectic Renaissance” revival.  Engaged Tudor-style columns flanked the offset doorway.  A swelled four-story bay vied for attention with a double-height angled bay above the entrance.   The fourth floor featured a full balcony over the angled portion and a charmingly diminutive balcony which clung to the rounded bay.  Above the sumptuous copper cornice was a red-tiled roof with elaborate conical dormers.

The 40-foot wide mansion was completed in September 1898 and on October 9 Charles Buek, promoting himself as “architect and owner” advertised it.  Calling it “this magnificent five story American basement Mansion,” he boasted of its “spacious drawing room in ivory, enamel and mahogany; library in old mahogany, dining room in quartered oak, besides imposing entrance hall, reception and billiard room.”

The house contained ten family and five servant bedrooms, along with five bathrooms, “all richly tiled and fitted with exposed nickelled plumbing.”  The latest in residential convenience was the “electric elevator stopping automatically at every story.”

It would be six months before Buek attracted a buyer; but finally on April 6, 1899 The New York Times reported he had sold No. 42 to William L. Brown.   Brown evidently had no plans to live in the mansion; but used it as rental income.

Among his tenants in the next few years were F. H. Cooper, who signed a lease “for a long term of years” in April 1903; and William Douglas, whose wife gave a musical on March 10, 1906.  But by the time of Mrs. Douglas’s entertainment, the house was no longer being used as a private home.  She had initiated what would be a decades-long tradition by opening the Riverside Drive Boarding and Day School in the mansion.

In 1907 William Brown leased No. 42 to Howard D. Miner and his wife, the former Katherine White.  The couple ran The Graham School—New York City’s oldest private school for girls.  Founded in 1816, it could boast illustrious instructors throughout the years like Elihu Root.  Highly exclusive, its students ranged from primary through college preparatory age and came from the wealthiest families in the East.

The Miners, of course, lived in the house along with their resident students.  It was here on November 26, 1912 that Katherine, only 35 years old, died.  Howard continued with the school, now taking on Katherine’s sister, Mary Josephine White, as assistant principal.

In 1913 the Graham School initiated what some stodgier socialites thought was rather pointless—postgraduate courses.  But the school explained “Many girls finish their regular school work, graduate, do not go to college, and wish a certain amount of advanced study adapted to the older and more developed mind.”

The Sun, on September 14, 1913, explained that female students were not expected to have the academic backgrounds of young men—the understanding of Greek and Latin, for instance.  “But to-day fortunately the classics are also available without the hampering medium of language acquisition.  Good translations from the Greek and Latin are used, and thus, for example, one may become acquainted with the Greek tragedians in substance without the laborious effort of studying Greek.”

 

Buek's many details, like these charming cherubs gazing down, are easily overlooked.

The Graham School left around 1916 and William G. Osgoodby leased the house.  As well as his residence, he used it as headquarters for his somewhat shady International Motor Club, Inc.  He had come up with the idea in 1914 and advertised to motorists that for a “reasonable” fee they could join for life.  He promised that among other benefits was “the club’s influence if they were arrested for overspeeding.”

The initiation fee was $25 and dues ranged from $12 to $250 (the highest amount translating to more than $6,000 today).   His money-making scheme, with “several branches in Massachusetts,” came to a screeching halt on May 23, 1918 when Assistant District Attorney Kilroe knocked on the Riverside Drive door.

The New-York Tribune said that the Assistant D. A. was “acting on information obtained in an anonymous letter.”  After interrogating Osgoodby about the operations of the “club,” his suspicions were confirmed.   The money was going directly into Osgoodby’s pockets.

“Osgoodby, Mr. Kilroe said, admitted that with the exception of about $5, he got most of the initiation and due fees,” reported the Tribune.  Osgoodby was not prosecuted, but he promised “to cease soliciting new members here”

When Henrietta Brown sold the house in February the following year it was assessed at $76,000.  The Sun reported “The buyer is a businessman from New Jersey who will occupy it after extensive alterations.”

That New Jersey businessman was Charles M. Schweinert, president of A. Schrader’s Sons, Inc., makers of pneumatic tire valves.   The 48-year old entrepreneur, indeed, did extensive alterations.   The year-long “fitting up,” as the New-York Tribune described it, would cost Schweinert $150,000.

While renovations were going on, other upscale residents of the block were loudly complaining to the City about the city dump at the river’s edge at 79^th Street.  Every evening rubbish was burned there and neighbors protested about “the offensive odor and danger,” according to the New-York Tribune.  The newspaper noted “complaints brought nothing…except an explanation from the Street Cleaning Department that the rubbish had to be burned because there were not scows enough to handle it.”

Finally, early in April 1920, Schweinert, his wife, Mary, and their daughter Marjorie were able to move into the redecorated mansion with their domestic staff.  They had been in the house about three weeks when their dinner was interrupted at about 7:10 on the night of April 24.

The New-York Tribune reported “Suddenly a white-faced maid burst into the room and, heedless of the shocked remonstrances of the butler, cried to Mrs. Schweinert, “Please, ma’am, there’s a gentleman at the door and he says the house is afire and he has sent in an alarm.”

The family rushed onto the sidewalk, only to see the entire top floor of their home in flames.  It appeared that embers from the trash fires below the park had landed on the roof, starting the blaze.  As the family stood in shocked disbelief, they watched the top three floors of their newly-redecorated home destroyed. 

Schweinert told a reporter that between fire and water damage, “all the renovating which he had accomplished at such expense of money and patience, was a wreck.”

Despite the disheartening turn of events, Schweinert rebuilt the mostly gutted mansion.  The former tiled roof with its conical dormers was replaced with a flat-faced upper story featuring a series of large arched openings.  The new design resulted in a spacious top-floor terrace.

Schweinert retired in 1922.  In November 1926 he and Mary traveled to London, checking into the fashionable Savoy Hotel.  There, on New Year’s Eve Charles M. Schweinert died at the age of 57.

Mary Schweinert and Marjorie (now married) inherited the bulk of Schweinert’s estate, the gross amount of which was $1.16 million.  Mary lived on in the Riverside Drive mansion, the Schweinert summer estate in Brielle, New Jersey, and a house in Miami.   But it was apparently a lonely life for the widow and she would be drawn into scandalous law suit before very long. 

In July 1927 Edith Jacobs, a young private secretary, met Joseph J. Gottman, a medical student.  A romance ensued and by October they were engaged.  Edith gave her future husband $14,000 of her savings to help him pay for medical school and expenses.

And then Mary Schweinert came along.  When Gottman broke the engagement, Edith sued Mary, alleging “that although Mrs. Schweinert knew Gottman was engaged to the plaintiff she won him away from her by giving him presents, entertaining him at her home here and in New Jersey and Miami, Fla., and took him abroad with her.”

The suit, filed in May 1932, sought the $6,400 Gottman had not yet repaid.  Edith had no expectations that her former fiancé could ever pay the debt since, thanks to Mary, he had “forsaken a gainful occupation.”  She also asked for $250,000 damages to help heal her broken heart.

By now Mary Schweinert was apparently spending less and less time in Manhattan.  The year following the law suit, she converted the Riverside Drive mansion into 12 apartments; keeping one for herself.  She was still living here in 1938 when she went to the Marlborough-Blenheim Hotel in Atlantic City .

On the night of June 5 she entered the Apollo Theatre on the Boardwalk.  Having paid for her ticket, she pressed her handbag under the arm on which she carried her coat.  Later, when she stood up to leave, she realized her handbag was missing.  A search of the theater was made, but the bag was gone.

In the handbag, according to Mary, were not only her platinum spectacles, but five pieces of jewelry valued at $30,000.  Why she would be carrying around jewelry worth half a million dollars by today’s standards was not explained.

Throughout the decades the tenant list in No. 42 Riverside Drive included some celebrated names.  In 1939 opera and concert artist Mme. Grete Stueckgold leased an apartment.  Following Bella Chagall’s death, artist Marc Chagall took an apartment with his daughter; and in the 1950s motion picture and television actor Paul Valentine lived here.

Despite a drywall ceiling, the entrance hall (above) reminds the visitor of the mansion's former grandeur.  Other areas did not survive so well.  photographs by CitySpade

In 2001 the mansion received another renovation resulting in 11 apartments.  Tragically, while the entrance hall retains a hint of the mansion’s former glory, most of the 1920 interiors have been stripped bare.

non-credited photographs by the author