1860 Refinement -- No. 361 West 20th Street

As Clement Clarke Moore sold off building plots within his family’s former country estate, Chelsea, Don Alonzo Cushman and James Wells were greatly responsible for the development of the new neighborhood.  In 1833 Cushman purchased the large property on Ninth Avenue between 20^th and 21^st Street and constructed a commodious home for his family.  Behind was a substantial garden.

Cushman erected rows of speculative, high end homes in Chelsea, such as his distinctive Cushman Row.  Begun in 1839 the string of elegant Greek Revival rowhouses on West 20^th Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues were just steps away from the Cushman house.

 

Almost two decades later Cushman started another project, three brownstone-faced houses on West 20^th Street directly behind his garden.  Stretching from No. 359 through 355, they rose three stories above English basements.   Tall dormers sat behind the bracketed cornices.  The elaborate entrances and the handsome double doors in their rope-carved enframements spoke of the comfortable financial status of their intended owners.

Two years later Don Alonzo Cushman chose profit over family comfort when he built a fourth, matching house in what was his garden.  No. 361 was completed in 1860, an identical match to its earlier neighbors.

Of the carved facade decoration, only those of the entrance survived the 20th century.

The new house saw a succession of owners.  By the early 1880s William Hastings called it home; followed by Alfred Ogden and his family.  Ogden traced his American lineage to jurist David Ogden (born in 1707).  A historian at the University of Michigan’s William L. Clements Library, where the family’s papers are preserved, later said “During the early years of the Republic, the Ogden family of New Jersey and New York parlayed ability, family, fortune, and political resilience into social and economic power.”

Alfred was born in 1815 in New York City and studied at Columbia College.  He rose to Vice President of the Oriental Insurance Company, a position he held until the firm’s closure in 1886.  He and his wife, Caroline, had two sons.

Ogden was 71 years old when the Oriental Insurance Company was dissolved and The New York Times noted that shortly afterward “his health became impaired.”  Alfred retired, living on in the 20^th Street house with his aging wife and servants.

On February 22, 1898 he died in the 20^th Street house at the age of 83.  In reporting his death, The New York Times reminded readers that he was “of the old New York family of that name.”  His social status was reflected in the fact that his funeral was held in the fashionable Trinity Chapel, and his burial was in the venerable Trinity Churchyard among the graves of Manhattan’s elite.

Just over a year later, on Saturday, December 9, 1899, Caroline died at the age of 79.  As had been the case with Alfred, her funeral was held in Trinity Chapel.

The house became home to Albert D. Horton, who was appointed a City Surveyor in 1910.  By 1920 Dr. F. Homer Curtiss lived here.  A 1909 graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, Curtiss founded The Universal Religious Fellowship, Inc. which attempted to scientifically support the theory of reincarnation.  He issued four pamphlets on the subject which were later, in 1949, combined into a book by the Universal Religious Fellowship entitled simply Reincarnation.

On February 13, 1920 The Pennsylvania Gazette reported that Curtiss would be absent from No. 361 West 20^th Street for an extended period.  The article announced he “is leaving on a transcontinental lecture tour which will probably take him to Australia and around the world.”

Curtiss was followed in the house by another spiritual—if more traditional—type.  On May 22, 1935 the Rev. Felix Lossing Cirlot received his Doctor of Theology degree from the nearby General Theological Seminary in Chelsea Square.  Like Curtiss, he was an author and would publish religious-based books like Christ and Divorce, The Early Eucharist, and Apostolic Succession at the Bar of Modern Scholarship.

When Reverend Cirlot left No. 361 West 20^th Street it was the end of the line for the comfortable house as a private home.  The 1940s saw the once-gracious residence operated as furnished rooms.  Retired postal worker George C. Snead lived here in 1947.  When he returned home late on the night of June 12 that year, he was accosted in the hallway by two men, one armed.

When the thugs discovered that he had only $4 on him, they beat the 60-year old and left him there.   Snead walked to the 20^th Street Station House to report the assault.  While he spoke to the desk sergeant, Detectives Samuel Bress and James Costello were on patrol.  They noticed two suspicious teenagers at the corner of Ninth Avenue and 20^th Street, just steps from No. 361.

The New York Times reported the following day, “Just as the detectives walked up, the two ran.  During the chase, the detectives said, 18-year-old William Dejesus drew a pistol and pulled the trigger three times, but it failed to fire.”

Dejesus and his cohort, 16-year old Henry Williams, were hauled into the station house.  And there was George C. Snead.  The Times reported that the teens admitted the crime and “twenty other hold-ups and a burglary.”  The hooligans were held at $7,500 bail each—a substantial $80,000 today.

The Chelsea neighborhood continued to experience decline and crime at mid-century.  In 1953 Puerto Rican-born Peter Parasi rented a furnished room in No. 361.  The 57-year old had made his living as a dishwasher; but in June that year was out of a job.

Five years earlier Parisi had been injured in a traffic accident and hired attorney Morris Nadel to represent him in a damage suit.  The case was settled out of court on October 25, 1951 for $10,000.  Nadel took half the settlement as his fee.

Now, with his $5,000 spent and without a job, Parisi was desperate.  He applied for home relief from the Welfare Department in 1953.  The agency required documentation of his financial need.  And so on June 18 Parisi went back to Morris Nadel’s office to ask for a letter confirming he was destitute.

While the lawyer’s secretary typed the letter, she heard the two men arguing.   When Miss Analfitano’s intercom buzzed, she responded to Nadel’s office.  She found her employer on the floor with a deep stab wound to the abdomen.   He died within 20 minutes.

Other employees in the office held Peter Parisi who later admitted “losing his temper and knifing the lawyer.”  Parisi would not be returning to his room in the West 20^th Street house.  He was arrested on a charge of homicide.

In 1968 the house was converted to two apartments in the basement and parlor floors, and one each on the floors above. 

Although the brownstone details of the windows have been shaved off—as with the others in the Cushman row—No. 361 retains its original dormers and beautiful entrance.  The carved doors (which survive at No. 357) have been replaced with glass-paned replacements, expected in an apartment building.  Nevertheless, the house that took over Don Alonzo Cushman’s rear garden retains the elegance of a much different, pre-Civil War, West 20^th Street.

photographs  by the author

English Muffins and Burglars. -- No. 161-163 9th Avenue

Don Alonzo Cushman traced his roots in America to Robert Cushman who landed in Plymouth on the Fortune in 1621.  By 1792 when Don Alonzo was born, the family worked a farm in upstate New York.  But farm life did not play a part in the ambitious boy’s plans.

He traveled to New York City to find his fortune.  By the time the 23-year old married in 1815 his dry goods business on Pearl Street was a success.  He moved to Greenwich Village, where he eventually became acquainted with Clement Clarke Moore and real estate operator James N. Wells.

Moore’s family estate, Chelsea, north of Greenwich Village had been doomed as a bucolic retreat since the 1811 Commissioners’ Plan laid out on paper the regimented grid of streets and avenues above 14^th Street.  Early on James Wells worked hand-in-hand with Moore to develop Chelsea as a residential neighborhood.

Don Alonzo Cushman recognized Chelsea as an up-and-coming neighborhood.  In 1833 he bought property on Ninth Avenue between 20^th and 21^st Streets and constructed a commodious home for his family within a spacious garden.   After helping found the Greenwich Savings Bank, he gave up his dry goods business altogether and focused on real estate and banking.  In 1839 he began his most memorable project—the string of elegant Greek Revival homes on West 20^th Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues that would become known as Cushman Row.

Cushman embarked on a less ambitious project four years later when he erected the double store-and-residential building at Nos. 161-163 Ninth Avenue, between 19^th and 20^th Streets.  Each shop owner and his family would live above his store in the three-story, two-bay wide residential space.  The relatively-new Greek Revival style had done away with the peaked roof and dormers of the Federal style, providing a full-height attic floor. 

As early as 1852 Samuel P. Armstrong lived in No. 163.  A house painter, he ran his business, Armstrong & Vanbramer, from the shop.   Starting around 1855 it was also used as the neighborhood polling place each year.  In 1865 the polling spot was identified as the “furniture-store” at No. 163; referring to Martin Furey’s cabinet making business which had taken over the space.

By the 1870s both addresses had become multi-family homes.  In 1876 Elizabeth Fraser lived upstairs in No. 161 and ran her “variety” store in the shop.  City directories listed her as “widow of John.”  Also living in No. 161 was David C. Munson, a carpenter; Charles H. Putnam, a “truckman;” and Edward Adams who earned his living as a clerk.

Next door, by 1872, Samuel Hanna had established his neighborhood bakery in No. 163.  Among the residents upstairs were Janet Bowden, “widow of Thomas,” and her son, Thomas E. Bowden.  By 1876 William Knapp, who moved in upstairs, had taken over Samuel Hanna’s bakery business.  He appears to have had only one employee in the tiny bakery, George A. Bellows.  By now Thomas Bowden had secured a job, listing himself in directories as “segarmaker.”

A recent arrival in New York City was Samuel Bath Thomas, who arrived in 1874.  Along with his personal effects, he brought his most valuable possession—a muffin recipe.   Thomas’s muffin was totally unlike anything Americans were accustomed to and it would lead to his fortune in his new country.

In 1880 Thomas took over the bakery at No. 163 from George Knapp.  He sold only to commercial establishments, advertising delivery “to hotels and restaurants by pushcart.”  Before long Thomas’s English muffins were a tremendous success, prompting Thomas to open a branch bakery around the corner at No. 337 West20th Street.

Working in Samuel Thomas’s small, hot bakery may not have been the best of jobs.  In 1900 a State inspection listed three male employees at No. 163, each working an average of 72 hours per week.

By now the store at No. 161 was home to M. Voight & Sons, “bellhangers,” who nebulously described their work as “electric work, bell hanging, etc.”    

In the crowded rooms upstairs in No. 161 in 1903 lived 44-year old Mary Herrol her husband and their six children.  When Mary learned she had an incurable disease in January that year, she became depressed.  On Saturday night, January 31, she slashed her throat with a table knife.  She died in Roosevelt Hospital the following Tuesday.

More than a little excitement occurred at No. 161 in 1910.  The Chelsea neighborhood had been plagued for weeks by what newspapers dubbed the “dumbwaiter burglars.”  Early on the morning of November 9 three detectives from the 20^th Street Station House followed three suspicious characters who disappeared into No. 161.

Ironically, the rooms they broke into belonged to Patrolman Henry Bauersmith and his wife and family, who were away.  The thieves, Joseph Carroll, James Edwards and Joseph Franks, headed out of the apartment after about 20 minutes, “carrying a suit case that seemed to be heavy,” according to The New York Times the following day.

The New-York Tribune reported “When told to throw up their hands by Detectives Young and Brown, the burglars fired six shots in reply.  The noise brought Patrolman Callahan and Dwyer…and the burglars were overpowered and arrested.”  The thugs were later tied not only to a string of burglaries, but to a recent murder.

Twelve years later another notorious burglar would not be ransacking No. 161; but living there.    John Haughey had a record of 13 arrests and prior burglary convictions in 1922.  The Evening World said “He has been placed on probation twice, twice has received suspended sentences, one for violation of parole, and has been tried for homicide and discharged.”

In January that year Haughey was wanted on charges of assault and robbery, after he and two cohorts beat and robbed jeweler Charles Niehauser on January 4 in his West 83^rd Street shop.  On January 9 he proved that he was not only dangerous, but stupid. 

That day one of the gang’s followers was on trial for burglary in Brooklyn County Court.  John Haughery and his two accomplices showed up in court to watch the trial.  They left the courtroom in handcuffs.

1922 was a much happier year for Edward A. Wilson, who also lived at No. 161.  When he entered a contest in The Evening World in October, he won the “Special Prize”—a new Ford motorcar.  (It was a much grander prize than the next place prize of $25.)

In the 1960s Nos. 161-163 were given a make-over that replaced the 19^th century storefronts with blank walls during a conversion to apartments.  The misguided owners made alterations which drew enraged comments from the Landmarks Preservation Commission in 1970.  “Expert guidance could have aided the owner in producing a more appropriate design than that which combines a pseudo-mansard roof with splayed Georgian lintels and a Mediterranean style entrance door.”

Later owners may have read that blistering critique.  The entrance gained a reproduction Greek Revival enframement which, while it would be more appropriate in a high-stooped row house, is at least a sympathetic effort.

In the meantime, that the little building which introduced Americans to the English muffin survives at all after nearly 175 years on bustling Ninth Avenue is amazing.

photographs by the author

Nearly Untouched -- No. 416 West 20th Street

Don Alonzo Cushman traced his roots in America to Robert Cushman who landed in Plymouth on the Fortune in 1621.  By 1792 when Don Alonzo was born, the family worked a farm in upstate New York.  But farm life did not play a part in the ambitious boy’s plans.

He traveled to New York City to start his fortune.  By the time the 23-year old married in 1815 his dry goods business on Pearl Street was a success.  He moved to Greenwich Village, where he eventually became acquainted with Clement Clarke Moore and real estate operator James N. Wells.

Moore’s family estate, Chelsea, north of Greenwich Village had been doomed as a bucolic retreat since the 1811 Commissioners’ Plan laid out on paper the regimented grid of streets and avenues above 14^th Street.  Early on James Wells worked hand-in-hand with Moore to develop Chelsea as a residential neighborhood.

As Greenwich Village developed and became more populous, Don Alonzo Cushman recognized Chelsea as an up-and-coming neighborhood.  By the early 1830s the newly-laid streets of Chelsea saw brick homes going up; designed in accordance with the restrictive covenants Moore included in the residential deeds to ensure a higher class of homes.   

In 1833 Cushman bought property on Ninth Avenue between 20^th and 21^st Streets and constructed a commodious home for his family within a spacious garden.   After helping found the Greenwich Savings Bank, he gave up his dry goods business altogether and focused on real estate and banking.  In 1839 he began his most memorable project—the string of elegant Greek Revival homes on West 20^th Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues that would become known as Cushman Row.

The homes, stretching from No. 406 to 418, were completed in 1840.  The high-end Greek Revival residences offered potential owners the latest and best in the architectural style.  Sitting ten feet back from the sidewalk, they were protected by heavy and exquisite iron fences crowned with rows of palmettes.  The entrances to the English basement were concealed beneath the broad brownstone stoops, which in turn were distinguished not only by rich iron railings, but wonderful candelabrum newels.

The entrances were set deeply within the brownstone enframements.  Three stories of red-brown brick rose to a wide fascia board pierced with small attic windows encircled by carved wreaths.  Within, the rooms would be outfitted in costly woods, ornamental plasterwork and elegant marble mantels.

Wreaths encircled the attic openings.

Among the identical homes was No. 416 which, like its neighbors, was home to highly respectable citizens throughout the 19^th century.  In the 1870s it was home to Professor James Weir Mason.   The teacher graduated from the College of the City of New York in 1855 and taught in private schools for 13 years before giving up education to work in the insurance business.   Then, in 1879, he returned to teaching when he was appointed Professor of Pure Mathematics at City College.

By the early 1890s Francis E. Laimbeer owned No. 416.  Highly involved in local politics, the Republican was an Assemblyman in the 27^th District when he ran for re-election in 1896.  Although Laimbeer was religious and highly-respected—he sat on the Board of Deacons of the Collegiate Reformed Protestant Dutch Church—his apparently less-than-benevolent views on race caused him trouble.

On September 7, 1896 The New York Times reported that “The colored Republican County Committee has refused to indorse Assemblyman Francis E. Laimbeer…for re-election because of some offensive remarks about the colored race which Mr. Laimbeer made several months ago.”  Although the committee unanimously supported all other Republican candidates, “Chairman Butler and an overwhelming majority declared they would not vote for Mr. Laimbeer under any circumstances.”

The beautiful candelabrum newels are topped by cast iron pineapples, signifying hospitality.

Laimbeer would not stay on much longer in the 20^th Street house.  It quickly became home to Jonathan Little Hyde.  A prosperous jeweler, he had married Carriet C. Dart on February 28, 1849 in the Brick Presbyterian Church.  The couple had three sons and two daughters. Now a widower, the elderly man was the last surviving member of the jewelry importing firm of John E. Hyde & Sons which was founded by his father, John E. Hyde, in 1825.  Following his father’s death Jonathan and his brothers, John Joseph and William H. Hyde, had became partners.

The company was best known for the Jules Jurgensen watches it imported and sold.  After John Hyde died in 1890, followed by William’s retirement, Jonathan Little Hyde continued the business alone.  At the age of 72, Hyde suffered his first stroke.   Nevertheless, he worked on until February 1, 1896 when his health forced him to close the business.

On June 2, 1899, now 78 years old, Jonathan Hyde suffered a fatal stroke in the house on West 20^th Street. 

By now most of the spacious homes in Chelsea were being converted to rooming houses or were being replaced by modern apartment buildings.  In 1904 aspiring artist Natalie A. Johnson was living at No. 416 West 20^th Street when she won first prize for her design of a book cover in a competition held by the International Studio.

In 1938 the house was converted to one apartment per floor.  Amazingly, the house survived throughout the 20^th century with little interior alteration.  The Greek Revival moldings and pilasters of the parlor level were preserved, as were the original parquet floors, marble mantels and original interior window shutters.  Outside, the priceless ironwork is intact, including the now-rare candelabrum newels.

In 2012 the house was offered for sale for the first time in four decades.  The astounding condition of the interiors prompted the realtor to suggest it was “an ideal candidate for re-conversion to single-family status.”

 

The interior details survive including the hefty marble mantels, woodwork and plasterwork.  Note the Greek key design border of the parquet floors.  photo http://www.stribling.com/properties/3459696

No. 416 remains sympathetically divided into apartments (the original hallways and interior doors are all intact); a wonderful relic of Chelsea’s early days of development.

non-credited photographs taken by the author