The Richard Grant White House - 118 East 10th Street

 

In 1861, Richard Grant White moved his family into the newly built house at 186 Tenth Street (renumbered 118 East 10th Street in 1867).  It sat upon a triangular parcel of land purchased by Matthias Banta from the Stuyvesant family in 1854.  Banta's architect (most historians attribute the homes to James Renwick, Jr.) had to deal with the irregular plots, resulting in the five-story-and-basement houses ranging from 16- to 32-feet-wide and from 16- to 48-feet deep.  The Anglo-Italianate-style homes were completed in 1861, the year the Whites purchased their new residence.

Like its neighbors, the rusticated brownstone basement and first floor of the White house sat below four stories of red brick trimmed in sandstone.  The tall, fully-arched windows of the second floor were connected by a stone bandcourse.  Each of the architrave frames of the upper openings were treated slightly differently.

Born in 1822, Richard Grant White was a globally recognized Shakespearean scholar.  He traced his American ancestry to John White, a founder of Cambridge, Massachusetts and of Hartford, Connecticut.  Although he studied medicine and law (he was admitted to the bar in 1845), by the time he purchased the Tenth Street house, he was the musical critic for The Courier and Enquirer, and had already published his 1854 Shakespeare's Scholar and the 1859 Essay on the Authorship of the Three Parts of Henry VI.  He would be described by the 1901 New York University; Its History, Influence, Equipment and Characteristics as, "one of the foremost literary and musical critics of his date."

Richard Grant White, from the 1901 New York University; Its History, Influence, Equipment and Characteristics (copyright expired)

Grant was married to Alexina Black Mease on October 16, 1850.  The couple had two sons, Richard Mansfield, born in 1851 and named after Grant's father; and Stanford, born in 1853.

The parlor of the East 10th Street house was most likely the scene of lively artistic discussions.  Among Richard G. White's acquaintances were Louis Comfort Tiffany, Frederick Law Olmsted, and John LaFarge.  It may have been those gatherings that sparked young Stanford White's interest in architecture.

The outbreak of the Civil War affected Richard White's career, at least temporarily.  In 1861 he was appointed Chief of the United States Revenue-Marine (later the U.S. Coast Guard).  He would serve in that post until 1878.

In the meantime, Stanford White pursued a career in architecture.  With no formal training, he became an apprentice in the office of Henry Hobson Richardson in 1871 at the age of 18.  While his professional life progressed (he would become Richardson's principal assistant), the young man's personal lifestyle was a concern to his parents.  Mary Cummings, in her Saving Sin City, says Stanford White and his friends "preferred the company of models and chorus girls to that of dowagers and debutantes."  She writes:

He was living with his family at 118 East 10th Street but seldom came home.  One night he was hurrying off in swallowtail and knee breeches to a society event, the next he was headed for the libidinous downtown wilds, leaving his father to lament that he was absent at breakfast, rarely present at dinner, and then after dinner "he don't stop at home more than ten to fifteen minutes but is off to the Benedick."

Stanford White, photograph by George Cox, ca 1892 (copyright expired)

Stanford White left East 10th Street in 1878 for a year-and-a-half tour of Europe.  When he returned in 1879, he joined Charles Follen McKim and William Rutherford Mead to form McKim, Mead and White.  His parents had sold 118 East 10th Street to Charles Nicholson the previous year.  They moved to 330 East 17th Street where Richard Grant White died on April 5, 1885.  In reporting on his death, The New York Times called him a "variously accomplished man."

The house was owned by two more owners in quick succession.  After William L. Stow purchased it for $14,000 in October 1884 (about $462,000 in 2026), the dwelling was operated as a boarding house. 

Among the residents in 1886 was singer Louise Pauline, described by The Sun as the "prima donna of the Carlton Opera Company."  In May that year, the company took the production of The Bohemian Girl to Philadelphia.  The New York Times reported that on May 29, "just before the curtain rose on the first act," Louise fainted.  She was taken to her dressing room where her costume was removed by two other singers.  Louise would later say, "They took $1,500 which was concealed in my bodice, and gave it to the stage manager, Mr. [Charles] Fais, for safe keeping."  (It was an astounding amount of cash to be hidden in one's underclothes--equal to about $51,000 today.)

Upon returning to 118 East 10th Street, Louise Pauline asked Fais for her money.  "He gave it all back except $90," she told the courts.  He could not explain the shortfall, "and offered to return to Philadelphia and investigate," reported The New York Times.  After waiting a week, Louise had Charles Fais arrested.  The Times said, "When taken into custody, however, he offered to make good the loss."

The boarders continued to be respectable, for the most part.  In 1890 they included Mary E. Brady, a teacher in the primary department of Grammar School No. 30.  Edward Bagwell and Frank Tuttle also lived here at the time.   

On July 8, 1890, The Evening World reported on the stifling heat wave, predicting, "Old Sol is rendering himself liable for malicious mischief to-day."  The previous day, the "malicious mischief" of the dangerous heat resulted in 39-year-old Edward Bagwell's collapsing on a Christopher Street streetcar.  He was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital for treatment.

Later that year, on the night of September 3, Frank Tuttle was walking along the corner of Bond Street and the Bowery when he "lurched against" Jack Ashton and "made an impolite remark."  The World reported, "Mr. Ashton returned a merry response and Mr. Tuttle, unfortunately, took that as an evidence of weakness, so he rushed rudely forward and attempted to toss Mr. Ashton into the air."  Tuttle had chosen the wrong man to attack.  The article said, 

But Mr. Ashton is as quick with his fists as he is at repartee, and he dealt Mr. Tuttle that which is known at Bond street and the Bowery as a "biff on the kisser."  Mr. Tuttle made a second attempt, and, this time, instead of being the thrower, he became the throwee.

A passing policeman arrested both men.  At the station house, neither wanted to make a complaint.  The World ended its article saying, "In a few moments that entente cordiale which should always exist between gentlemen was re-established, and the snowy dove of peace cooed and spread her pin-feathers over the happy little group."

Annie Nicholson operated the boarding house at the time.  She proved to be more than a match for 25-year-old Joseph Braham on the night of February 6, 1893.  Described by The Evening World as a "sneak thief," he attempted to leave the house that night with a $60 overcoat.  Annie Nicholson thought not.  She overpowered the young man and held him until a policeman arrived and arrested him.

Boarding here that year was actress Ella Dunbar who was playing the leading female role in A Winning Hand.  The company went on the road on October 16, 1893, but the reviews were devastating.  Just over a week later, she was back.  With no receipts, the cast did not get paid and Ella had to leave her jewelry with the hotel as a guarantee for her room fare.  Additionally, she had to put up the check for her trunk with the railroad for her passage.

At the turn of the century, the neighborhood had declined.  The condition was reflected in the change in boarders.  Margaret Delahunty worked at the Hot Air Club at 7 East 22nd Street within the notorious Tenderloin district.  On November 6, 1904, undercover officers entered the nightclub.  The Sun reported that 27-year-old Margaret Delahunty and 21-year-old Mable Miller, "stepped out on an improvised stage and began to sing and dance.  The crowd voted the performance slow."

One of the women replied, "Think so? Well, there!" and kicked off her slipper.  "In the course of the next five minutes the performers removed one garment after another."  Responding to a call from the officers, "a squad of Tenderloin sleuths rushed in and arrested everybody."  

George Berger and his family occupied rooms here in 1911.  A clerk, according to him, he was having problems supporting his family.  On the afternoon of June 21, he sneaked into the apartment of W. J. R. Johnston, a magazine writer, at 215 West 108th Street.  Mrs. Johnston returned home to find him there.

"I guess I got into the wrong apartment," he said.

"I am sure you did," she answered.  

The woman confronting him was no retiring housewife.  "Take off that coat and let me see what property of mine you've got in your pockets," she demanded.  The Sun reported, "She called for help and the neighbors began to arrive.  They found the man backed up against the wall with Mrs. Johnston guarding him."

Police officer Murrell arrived with his gun drawn.  Mrs. Johnston realized that she was dealing with a meek, inexperienced burglar.  "You can put that gun back in your pocket," she said, "He's perfectly harmless."

More experienced in burglary was Harry Stein, a 26-year-old roomer who listed his profession as a salesman.  On August 16, 1916, he was arrested during a burglary in the Bronx with two accomplices.  The New-York Tribune reported that Stein tried to escape, but "a shot into the air stopped" him.

When Stein got out of jail, he returned to 118 East 10th Street and to his life of crime.  On October 1, 1916, he appeared in court to plead guilty of another burglary.  The Evening World said he and his accomplice had "long police records."

By the end of World War I, the rooming house was operated by a Mrs. Lewis.  A woman who gave her name as Helen Curtis took a room in 1920.  According to Mrs. Lewis, she left at the beginning of summer "to take a position as checker in a tea room."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

On September 23, old Helen Bolger was admitted to the Manhattan Eye, Ear and Throat Hospital.  She gave her address as 118 East 10th Street.  During a throat operation that night, she died.  The 24-year-old was the wife of a merchant mariner, Thomas Bolger, who had just returned from sea.  In a bizarre turn of events, Helen Bolger and Helen Curtis were the same woman and why she was living in Mrs. Lewis's rooming house under an assumed name is a mystery.

On June 9, 1958, The New York Times reported that 118 East 10th Street had been purchased by S. P. Sloane and Lloyd Hauser.  "They plan to modernize the building into ten apartments," said the article.  Instead, the renovations resulted in just four apartments--a duplex in the basement and first floor, one apartment each on the second and third, and a duplex in the fourth and fifth floor.

Among the residents in the early 1970s were Huibert Zuur and Edward J. Austin.  The young men had worked together for Halston for some years.  In 1973, they launched their own women's clothing line: Austin-Zuur.  On September 9, 1974, Enid Now reported in The New York Times, "The partners show their collection in their glass, brick and wicker duplex apartment at 118 East 10th Street."

From the exterior, the house where one of the world's greatest Shakespearean scholars and one of America's greatest architects lived for decades is little changed since 1861.

photographs by the author

The William Sackett Jr. House - 123 East 10th Street

123 East 10th Street (left) is identical to its next door neighbor.

Once part of Director General Peter Stuyvesant's farm, or bouwerij, the block of East 10th Street between Second and Third Avenues saw an explosion of development in the early 185os.  Robert and Franny Carnley moved into a newly built house at 191 Tenth Street and in 1854 Robert erected two matching homes next door at 193 and 195 (they would be renumbered 123 and 125 East 10th Street in 1865).

Four stories tall and two bays wide above a low basement, their rusticated first floors held fully arched openings.  Full-width cast iron balconies fronted the second floor windows.  The red brick-faced upper floors featured elliptically arched openings with molded stone lintels.

Carnley originally rented 193 Tenth Street.  His first tenants were the family of James P. Harper, a grocer, who remained through 1857.  They were replaced by the Kendall family.  Merchant Joseph A. Kendall operated an enterprise at 30 Barclay Street and Rufus W. Kendall ran a dry goods business on Vesey Street.

On January 20, 1864, the Carnleys' daughter, Frances (known as Fanny), married William H. Sackett, Jr.  The couple initially moved into the Carnley house, but by 1866 they owned and occupied 123 East 10th Street next door.  Sackett operated a furniture business at 397 Eighth Avenue.

Like many families, the Sacketts took in a boarder.  Living with the family in 1868 was Luke Wisely.  He unwisely decided to take a swim in the East River at the foot of East 17th Street on July 2 that year.  The New York Times reported that he "undressed himself to bathe...and on jumping in struck his head on a rock, sustaining severe injuries."  Wisely was taken to Bellevue Hospital and it appears he recovered.

Later that year, in December, William and Fannie welcomed a son, Robert Carnley Sackett.  Tragically, the boy died at the age of one-and-a-half on June 23, 1870.  His funeral was held in the house two days later.  (The couple would have two other children, Emma Carnley and Isabel Thompson Sackett.)

The Sacketts left 123 East 10th Street in 1871, but retained ownership.  The Donoho family occupied it in 1872.  Sisters Mary and Margaret, who were 25 and 28 years old respectively, worked in Archer & Anderson's bookbindery at 81-85 Centre Street.

At 5:20 on the afternoon of Christmas Eve 1872, a fire broke out in the Centre Street building.  On December 26, The New York Times reported, "It was hoped that all had been rescued from the building by the firemen, police, and others, who were soon on the spot, but there now seems no reason to doubt that seven or eight persons lost their lives."  The girls' brother, John Donoho, searched at the Franklin Street Police Station and the Park Hospital for the women with no success.  Four days after the inferno, the New York Herald reported that the Donoho sisters were among the seven bodies still not recovered from the ruins.

The following year, the Barker family rented the house.  William H. Barker worked in City Hall, as did Edward P. Barker, who was a deputy park commissioner.  (Edward was appointed in 1858 with an annual salary of $480, or about $19,000 in 2026.)  William J. Barker listed his profession as a clerk in 1873, but ran a storage business on Washington Street by 1876.

The Barkers remained here at least through 1880.  The house saw a rapid succession of renters until Dr. Richard W. Muller moved in around 1892.  Born in 1860, he was considered a specialist in diseases of the scalp and hair.  

Muller originally rented at least one room in the house and his first tenant was Charles Moehling, described by The New York Times as "a well-educated and highly-cultured German."  Moehling was the head bookkeeper at the banking house of Ladenburg, Thalmann & Co. 

If Dr. Muller was hoping for engaging conversation with his roomer, he was disappointed.  The highly-private Moehling spent his evenings in his room, studying and writing.  He contributed several lengthy articles on finance and literature to local German-language newspapers.  Muller remarked later, "in all the time Mr. Moehling was in my house, I never exchanged five minutes' conversation with him.  He lived entirely to himself, like a hermit, almost."

On the morning of February 22, 1894, Moehling left home unusually early.  Instead of going downtown to his office, he went to Central Park.  Around 11:00 that morning, Park Policeman McKenna found the body of the 50-year-old in a clump of shrubbery.  He had shot himself in the left ear with a 32-calibre pistol.  Next to the dead man was a note that read,

My name is Charles E. Moehling, and I occupy a furnished room in the house of Dr. R. W. Muller, 123 East Tenth Street.  I desire that my body be taken to Charles Diehl’s undertaking shop in Essex Street.

No one could imagine why the bookkeeper had taken his life, although Dr. Muller noted, “The servant in the house said she had noticed him several times feeling his way about the house, as if he were losing his sight, and it may be because of his failing sight and utter friendlessness that led him to take his life.”

Dr. Muller had two roomers in 1895, attorney Reginald H. McMinn and Ellen M. Coe, the head librarian of the New York Free Circulating Library.  The New York Herald described Ellen as "a handsome woman of about 45."  She was appointed head librarian when the Free Library was organized years earlier.  While living here, she met one of Muller's well-respected patients, Dr. Joseph H. Rylance, rector of the nearby St. Mark's Church in the Bowery.

Rev. Rylance's wife died in 1885.  Now, on February 15, 1895, he announced that Ellen M. Coe "would shortly become his wife," as reported in the New York Herald.  The high-profile engagement was covered in several newspapers, resulting in a barrage of reporters rushing to the Free Circulating Library.  Ellen was ready for the onslaught.  When a reporter from The Evening World attempted to interview her, "a bright-eyed, rose-checked young woman" told him, "Miss Coe wishes me to say that she is very much distressed at the publicity given to her name, and she refers inquirers to the Rev. Dr. Rylance."

Ellen Coe's marriage resulted in a vacancy.  On August 16, 1895, an advertisement in the New-York Tribune read, "Cosily furnished rooms; one or two gentlemen; conveniences, private house; reasonable."

By 1899, Dr. Daniel Cook took over the lease of 123 East 10th Street.  An 1867 graduate of the University of New York, he advertised his office hours as 8 to 10 a.m. and 5 to 7 p.m.  Cook's reputation earned him a well-known clientele.  On April 14, 1899, for instance, the New York Journal and Advertiser reported that boxing manager Martin Julian was in "very critical condition with typhoid pneumonia."  The article said, "This famous promoter of pugilistic events is being attended by Dr. Cooke, of No. 123 East Tenth street."

Cook remained here until June 1904 when Frances Sackett sold the house to Bernhard Schneller.  (Schneller simultaneously purchased No. 125 from Henry H. and Harriet W. Holly.)  

Schneller's first tenant was yet another physician, Dr. Alfred H. Stiebeling.  Born in 1866, Stiebeling would create headlines three decades later.  His six-year-old granddaughter would die in 1927 and on July 12, 1937 The Berkshire Eagle would title an article, "Doctor Takes Poison at Grave of Granddaughter."

In the meantime, the respectability of some occupants of 123 East 10th Street had declined.  On June 1, 1914, the New York Press reported that George Borden had been arrested as one of the four men who committed a jewel heist from an Avenue A store.

Charles Kirchman rented a room here in December 1914.  He told the landlady that his name was William Dillon and that he had just lost his job with the Brooklyn Rapid Transit Company.  (It is unclear why he disguised his identity.)  Three weeks later, Kirchman was still unable to find employment.  On January 25, 1915, he wrote a letter to his sister, saying in part, "My last prayer is that God will deliver my soul into a better world than the one I am leaving."  The next day, The Evening World reported, "His body was discovered to-day in the gas-filled room."

The following year, Julius Segletti occupied a room here.  On Saturday night, July 15, he took his sweetheart to a dance hall on East 8th Street.  As they prepared to leave, 22-year-old Carrol Marres approached and asked, "May I dance with your lady?"

Segletti replied, "She's too tired."

"But just one dance wouldn't harm.  May I?"

"No," replied Segletti.

Marres walked away.  Fifteen minutes later Segletti and his girlfriend left the hall.  As they walked along Avenue A between 7th and 8th Streets, Marres rushed up from behind.  He drove a knife into Segletti's head.  He died of a fractured skull in Bellevue Hospital.  Marres was captured the following day and Segletti's girlfriend, whose name was withheld, identified him as the murderer.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Living here at midcentury was life-long bachelor Colonel Julian Fairfax Scott.  Born in Maryland in 1877, he was a member of the New York National Guard.  In 1909, he was appointed Cleaning Commissioner in charge of the Bronx.  He died in the house on November 14, 1953.

Scott was followed at 123 East 10th Street by Dr. Edward Campbell Berger and his wife, Ethel.  An osteopathic physician, Berger graduated from the Philadelphia College of Osteopathy.  During World War II he served with the U.S. Army in North Africa and Italy.  While living here he was with the administrative department of the Outpatient Service of the Osteopathic Hospital and Clinic of Le Roy Hospital.

Both 123 East 10th Street and his architectural twin have survived in remarkably pristine condition.

The venerable house was never converted to apartments and remains a single-family home today.  Its exterior appearance is essentially unchanged since 1854.

photographs by the author

The 1867 Emilie Steinbach House - 106 East 10th Street

 

photograph by the author

In 1867, developer James Mulry completed construction of three identical homes at 106 through 110 East 10th Street on land leased from the Stuyvesant estate.  Designed by D. & J. Jardine, the brick-faced homes rose four floors above rusticated brownstone basements.  

A bit more strait-laced than many upscale Italianate-style rowhouses at the time, these were proper and restrained.  At the parlor level, where some architects placed full-height parlor windows fronted with lacy cast iron balconies, the Jardines' windows sat upon brownstone panels.  And rather than the elaborate foliate brackets and arched pediments above other Italianate-style entranceways, these houses received straightforward cornices.

More expected of the style, the brownstone lintels of the windows were capped with handsome molded cornices atop foliate brackets, and each house wore individual Italianate cornices with fussy leafy corbels.

James Mulry initially leased 106 East 10th Street to Pedro San Juan, who operated a "segar" business on East 14th Street.  Then, in 1871, Emilie (know familiarly as Emma) Steinbach, the widow of Christian Steinbach, leased the house.  Moving in with her was her adult son, Albert.  Like most of her neighbors, Emilie took in select boarders.  In 1873, for instance, William D. Nichols, an iron dealer, and a woman who called herself Madame Selby (despite her being English), boarded here.

On March 9, 1873, Madame Selby placed an unusual notice in the New York Herald:

An English lady of experience, about returning to France, where she has resided many years, would take with her several young ladies desiring a finished education in music or the fine arts, offering them every comfort and elegant society, as she is highly connected in the artistic world.  For particulars, please call from 2 to 4 P.M. or address Mme. Selby, 106 East Tenth street, New York.

Later that year, Albert Steinbach was the victim of an 18-year-old thief and presumably was forced to come home in the winter air without a coat.  On December 14, The New York Times reported that John D. Ricco had been arraigned "for stealing a coat and scarf, valued at $23, from Albert Steinback [sic], of No. 106 East Tenth street."  (The cost of the pricey garments would translate to about $625 in 2026 terms.)

Popular actor Edward Job Arnott and his wife, Emma Elizabeth Champness, were members of Wallack's Theatre troupe.  They were married in June 1874 and engaged rooms from Emilie Steinbach.  (Arnott failed to tell his bride that he had earlier abandoned his wife, also named Emma, and their two children in England in 1873.)  Theirs would not be an idyllic marriage.  On November 25, 1877, the New York Herald reported that Emma had begun divorce proceedings, charging in part that Edward "so ill-treated deponent and struck her so often again that [she] could not live with him."  Moreover, she accused him of having "carnal connection" with Rose Lyle "at divers times and places" and with other unnamed women.

The handsome leading man was a scoundrel off stage.  from the archives of The Lambs

In court, Edward Arnott coldly testified that he had never been married to Emma and "never agreed or contemplated a marriage with her."  Importantly, he said, "I was already a married man, and told her so in the early days of our acquaintance."  

Unfortunately for Emma Arnott, the judge ruled, "I must exercise my discretion by denying the present application."  Edward Arnott, while continuing his successful acting career, went on have additional bigamous marriages and scandals.

Around 1881, James Mulry leased the house to J. C. Ketcham.  The banker was highly involved in the Royal Arcanum, a fraternal organization.  On December 16, 1883, The New York Times reported on the meeting of the club at its Council Room on East 15th Street.  "At the close of the meeting a collation was provided at the house of Treasurer Ketcham, No. 106 East Tenth-street," said the article.

Ketcham and his family left in 1886, after which Mulry leased the house to Kate E. Wagner.  She sublet it to a "Mrs. Wenreth" who operated it as a boarding house.

Among her first boarders was Charles M. Plumb, the organizing secretary of The Central Committee for Protecting & Perpetuating the Separation of Church & State.  The group was formed by citizens concerned about the erosion of the Founding Fathers' principle.

Edward Arnott's messy divorce hearing had been the only taint to the respectable reputation of 106 East 10th Street until the arrest of 23-year-old Charles Deira on May 18, 1896.  At 3:00 that morning, S. P. Benedict, who lived at 61 Charles Street, awoke to see Deira standing by his bed.  The Sun reported, "Benedict demanded what he was doing there, and sprang out of bed."

"I'm in the wrong house, I guess," said Deira.  "I thought this was 61 Perry street."

Benedict spat, "I don't believe you."

"You must excuse me.  I made a mistake a block," said Deira and he rushed out of the house.  Because he was in his night clothes, Benedict did not follow.  However, the sight of a man running down Charles Street at 3:00 in the morning raised the suspicions of a policeman.  Deira was arrested and charged with attempted burglary.  The Sun said, "He entered Benedict's house by means of a skeleton key."

More than 30 years after he constructed 106 East 10th Street, James Mulry's estate sold it at auction to Frederick Henssler on January 19, 1899.  Henssler paid the equivalent of $238,000 in today's money.

 

Shortly afterward, Herman A. Fisher, his wife and daughter, rented rooms here.  Fisher was the treasurer of William Wicke & Co., a maker of cigar boxes and cigar ribbons.  On the night of November 20, 1900, Francis Dillon was walking along 164th Street in the Bronx when he came across a man lying in a vacant lot "with a bullet hole in his right temple," as reported by The New York Times.  It was 40-year-old Herman Fisher.  The New-York Tribune noted, "The police believe the man committed suicide."

The following year, resident E. C. Curtis, who was a paperhanger, experienced what could be described only as a wild ride.  He was removed from the house in an ambulance on the night of May 18, 1901, after he "became suddenly ill from kidney trouble," according to the New-York Tribune.  At the corner of 21st Street and Second Avenue, the ambulance was blocked by a lumber truck and so the driver "steered the horse on the sidewalk."  Curtis's ride to the hospital became violent.

The ambulance swung from side to side as it went up and then down the curb, and the reins broke.  The driver picked them up, and had to reach away out of the wagon to hold them.  He drove as fast as the horse could go.  The horse knew the way, and dashed through the gateway of Bellevue so fast that the traces [the straps that connected the horse to the ambulance] broke.

In December 1904, Frederick Henssler leased 106 East 10th Street to Rosetta Hertz, who continued to lease rented rooms within the house.  Although never converted to apartments, the owner was given a violation in 1937 for operating a "multiple dwelling."

Little changed on the outside, today the handsome structure is a single family home.

The 1845 John Allen House - 119 East 10th Street

 

In the early 19th century, Joseph Russell was active in real estate operations within the district that had once been the Stuyvesant farms.  In 1845 he erected a high-end speculative residence at 189 Tenth Street (later renumbered 119 East 10th Street).  Faced in brick, the 26-foot wide, three-and-a-half story house sat upon a brownstone basement.  The ornate iron stoop railings gracefully wrapped the finial-topped newels, which perched upon fluted stone drums.  The double-doored entrance sat within an earred brownstone frame, and the upper floor openings sat upon diminutive brackets.  

Merchant John Allen and his family occupied the house as early as 1850.  His drygoods business was located at 115 Broadway.  The family remained here until the spring of 1858.  On April 27 that year, an auction of the household goods was held and its announcement reflected the refinement of the Allens' home.  It listed "elegant rosewood suites in purple velvet plush, carved rosewood quartette and marble top centre tables" and "very handsome bedroom suites, elegant large mahogany bookcases, wardrobe and secretary."  A "very costly French mantel 21-day clock" had originally cost the Allens $150 (more than $6,200 by 2026 terms).

Louis Durr acquired the mansion (one of scores of investment properties he would eventually accumulate).  A wealthy gold and silver refiner, Durr was known for his art collection, which included works by Titian, Rembrandt, and Vandyke.

Durr initially leased the house to William H. and Susan E. Philips.  The parlor was the scene of the funeral of their only child, Elizabeth Dimon Philips, on April 12, 1859.  Real estate operator Daniel T. Macfarland rented the house the following year.

Deborah A. Ellison leased 119 East 10th Street in 1861 and operated it as an upscale boarding house.  Her tenants that year were Albert Gilbert, a clerk; and James M. Thorburn and his family.  Thorburn operated a seed business, James M. Thorburn & Co., at 15 John Street.

The boarding house was taken over the following year by Deborah Tigh (sometimes spelled Tighe).  Like Deborah Ellison, she took in only a few, select boarders.  Adele Bassié lived here in 1865.  She was a drawing teacher in the girl's department of School No. 22 on Stanton Street.  Other boarders over the ensuing years were William Walker, a trimmings merchant; and shoe manufacturer B. Reed.

Another widow, Susan S. Bond, operated the boarding house starting in 1874.  Her 25-year-old son, J. Edwin F. Bond, lived here as well.  Tragically, the young man contracted pneumonia shortly after they moved in and he died on February 3, 1874.  His funeral was held in the parlor on February 6.

As her predecessors had done, Susan took in only about two boarders (and, in some cases, their families) at a time.  Jennie A. Moran was here in 1875 and 1876.  She was an assistant in the primary department of Grammar School No. 13 on East Houston Street, earning $525 per year (about $17,000 today).

Louis Durr died in 1880 and the following year 119 East 10th Street was one of the scores of properties sold at auction to liquidate his estate.  It was purchased by John J. Smith for the equivalent of about $332,000 today.  (It turned out to be a bargain price and within a few years would demand double that amount.)

The residence saw a relatively quick turnover in owners.  Smith's son, Kinsland Smith, sold it to Henry A. and Cornelia R. Spaulding in March 1884.  They resold it the following April to Andrew Maquire for $20,000 (about $673,000 today).

Interestingly, the Macquires' daughter, Grace, taught in the primary department of Grammar School 13, the same school in which Jennie A. Moran taught while she boarded here in 1875.

The Macquires took in boarders, but unlike the respected professionals of a few decades earlier, these often found themselves on the wrong side of the law.  Living here in 1898 were Andrew C. Hendricks and C. A. Kendricks.  The New York Sun noted, "there was frequent confusion to the delivery of their mail owing to the similarity of their names."  And that was what happened one afternoon when Andrew Hendricks opened an envelope that was intended for Kendricks.  Inside was a Post Office money order for $15.  Hendricks forged the other man's name, cashed it, and then moved out.  Suspicion soon fell upon Hendricks, who was tracked down and arrested.  The New York Sun reported on July 7, 1898, "He was held in $2,000 for examination."

Frank Hadden, who boarded with the Maquire family in 1900 had a severe drinking problem.  On June 8, he was admitted to the Harlem Hospital with delirium tremens--a life-threatening form of alcohol withdrawal.  His ward was filled with similar cases.  At 11:40 that night, an orderly, Luke Dempsey, was passing through the ward when James O'Donnell, "a bartender of great strength, ill with pneumonia, leaped from his bed in his delirium and caught the orderly by the throat," as reported by the New-York Tribune.

O'Donnell, "with the strength of a madman," according to the article, choked the orderly and threw him to the floor.  The scuffle attracted another orderly.  When he tried to intervene, Frank Hadden and another patient, Robert Whalen, "leaped from their cots and joined the fracas."  That simply excited other patients and within seconds "a miniature insurrection of delirious patients," as described by the New-York Tribune, had broken out.

A policeman, Thomas Fay, who had been guarding a hospitalized convict, rushed to the scene.  One of the patients saw him coming.  "He seized a heavy galvanized cup and hurled it at Fay.  It hit him squarely between the eyes, and he dropped as if shot."  Before long, the "entire hospital was now in an uproar."  A cadre of doctors and orderlies responded and eventually subdued the mob.  The violent patients were strapped to their cots.  The New-York Tribune said, "It lasted half an hour and blood flowed before it ended."

Among the injured was Frank Hadden, who was treated for bruises.  The article noted, "Whalen and Hadden will be transferred to the alcoholic ward at Belleview Hospital this morning."  It is doubtful that he ever returned to 119 East 10th Street.

Andrew Maguire sold the house in 1902.  The tenants did not improve with a change of ownership.  Miguel Pajarin lived here on October 31 when he joined a card party at 206 East 99th Street.  Among the four players was Philip Lemonte, alias Jose Marignette, a Cuban-born cigarmaker.  Something--possibly the accusation of cheating--broke up the party and Pajarin left, "saying he was going to tell the police," as reported by The New York Evening World.  Lemonte followed him and at the corner of Third Avenue, shot Pajarin in the leg.  The wounded man ran into the hallway of an apartment building.  Lemonte followed him and shot him in the heart.  Lemonte was tracked down and charged with murder.

Sadie Green was arrested on September 5, 1904.  Officer McGough charged her with "disorderly conduct and loitering at 16th Street and Third Avenue."  (Disorderly conduct was a polite way of describing prostitution.)  She was fined $10 (about $350 today) and released.

The bad press concerning roomers here continued.  In December 1907, Harry Pelz was caught trying to escape a police raid on a poolroom--or illegal gambling operation--in Harlem.  The New York Times said, "The detectives say they found two poker tables, chips, racing charts, and telephones."

And living here in 1911 was Robert Becker, who worked as the butler in the William Einstein house at 121 East 57th Street.  On March 28 that year, Mrs. Einstein discovered that $8,000 of jewelry was missing.  Three days later a painter, John Grauvogel, was arrested.  He had about one-half of the booty and insisted he did not know it was stolen.  The Sun reported, "He said that he got the jewelry when he accompanied Becker to a room at 119 East Tenth street where the butler was staying."  Becker told him he was going to Chicago.

Respectability returned to 119 East 10th Street with Dr. Joseph Kaufman, who lived and ran his practice here starting in 1912.  The well-respected physician routinely submitted articles to publications like the New York Medical Journal and the Philadelphia Medical Journal.  He would remain here at least through 1917.

Also living in the house as early as 1915 and through 1919 was Blanca Will.  Born in 1881 in Richmond, New York, the well-rounded artist was a sculptor, painter, printmaker, designer and art educator.  She had studied throughout Europe and in Egypt, Turkey and Greece.

Two of Blanca Will's sculptures, a seated girl and an antelope, were recently auctioned.  image via invaluable.com

On July 27, 1920, the New-York Tribune headlined an article, "St. Mark's Church to Modernize Another House for Parishioners" and reported that it had purchased 119 East 10th Street.  The article mentioned, "The church, which is located on the corner of Second Avenue and Tenth Street, is the owner of several properties near the church."

A woman performs the daily chore of sweeping the stoop in 1941.  The finials of newel posts were intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Living here by 1925 were well-known sculptor, Alexander Sterling Calder and his artist wife, Nanette Lederer Calder.  Calder's father was also a sculptor, Scottish-born Alexander Milne Calder.  (The elder Calder's best known work is the statue of William Penn on the tower of Philadelphia's City Hall.)   Alexander and Nanette met at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and were married on February 22, 1895.

Following the family's artistic bent was the couple's son, Alexander "Sandy" Calder, known best for his innovative mobiles.  He exhibited his The Eclipse at the Ninth Annual Exhibition of The Society of Independent Artists at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in 1925.  According to Joan Simon and Brigitte Leal in their Alexander Calder: The Paris Years, 1926-1933, the 1925, "In the exhibition catalogue he lists his address at 119 East Tenth Street, where he periodically lived with his parents."

Alexander Calder exhibited The Eclipse while living at 119 East 10th Street.  from the collection of the Calder Foundation

The Calders were followed by William Barton Chapin, Jr. and his wife, the former Marion Rungee.  When they were married on August 27, 1932, The New York Times mentioned, "The marriage unites descendants of families prominent in Colonial and Revolutionary times."  The couple was visible in Manhattan social circles, and on May 13, 1938, The Sun noted, "The list of dinner hosts and hostesses for tonight is headed by Mr. and Mrs. William Barton Chapin Jr., who will entertain twenty guests at their home, 119 East Tenth street."

By 1958, Dr. Robert D. Richtmeyer occupied the house.  Born in Ithaca, New York on October 10, 1910, he received his Ph.D. in physics from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1935.  In 1940 he was appointed a scientist with the Bureau of Ships of the United States Navy and from 1945 to 1953 served with the Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory where he worked on developing nuclear weapons.  Now, he was a professor of applied mathematics at New York University.

In the mid-1960s, the house served as headquarters of Contemporary Art Associates.  Then, a renovation completed in 1985 resulted in apartments, one per floor.

photographs by the author

The Altered Maximilian and Sarah Raefle House - 112 East 10th Street

 

The house originally matched that of 114 East 10th Street, to the left.  image via streeteasy.com

The far-sighted Commissioners Plan that laid out the future grid of streets and avenues of Manhattan was superimposed on the farms and country estates north of the city in 1811.  The proposed Tenth Street created an acutely triangular parcel with the existing diagonally-running Stuyvesant Street within the former Peter Stuyvesant farms (Bouwerij #1 and #2).  Elizabeth Stuyvesant, the widow of Petrus Stuyvesant, Peter's great-grandson, used the point of the triangle as her garden.  Four years after her death in 1854, Mathias Banta purchased the property.  He erected a row of handsome brick-and-stone houses that lined the V portion of the plot on Stuyvesant and Tenth Streets.

Completed in 1861, the Anglo-Italianate-style homes were five-stories tall above basements.  Josiah Burton purchased 182 East 10th Street (which would later be renumbered 112) for $6,500.  The price would translate to about $239,000 in 2026.  Generally attributed to James Renwick, Jr., like the others, it featured a rusticated brownstone basement and first floor.  They supported four stories of red brick trimmed in brownstone.  The tall, fully-arched windows of the second floor held hands by means of a stone bandcourse.  Each of the architrave frames of the upper openings were treated slightly differently.

Burton leased the house.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on May 8, 1867 read:

To Let--Handsomely furnished four story attic and English basement House; rent $325 per month, 112 East Tenth street, a few doors from Third avenue.

The rent would translate to $7,000 in 2026 terms.

Dr. Maximilian Gustav Raefle answered the ad.  Having served as a surgeon in the Navy during the Civil War, he was currently living at 34 St. Mark's Place at the time.  He, no doubt, rented 112 East 10th Street in anticipation of his upcoming wedding to Sarah Olmsted Bunce on November 13 that year.  Raefle was born in September 1836 in Germany and Sarah was born in May 1844 in Galesburg, Illinois.  The German doctor and his Midwestern bride almost assuredly met and fell in love when he was attending Humboldt Medical College in St. Louis.  (He graduated in 1861).  Sarah's father, James, was a doctor in Galesburg.

Moving into the house with the Raefles were Sarah's older sisters, Frances M. and Caroline Elizabeth Bunce.  A year later, on August 8, 1868, Frances (the eldest of the sisters) died.  Her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

The couple rented unused space in their home.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on September 20, 1870, described:

To Let--An elegant frescoed front parlor with Bedroom.  Also other Rooms, double and single, at 112 East Tenth street, between Second and Third avenues; references.

Among their tenants in 1870 was dentist Rynear O. Moses and his wife.

The parlor was the scene of a heart wrenching ceremony that year.  The Raefles' first child, Maximilian Bunce, was born on January 13.  The baby died five months later, on July 17.  His tiny casket sat in the parlor until his funeral on July 20.

After renting 112 East 10th Street for five years, Maximilian and Sarah Raefle purchased it from Josiah H. Burton on November 6, 1872 for $18,000 (about $477,000 today).

The couple continued to take in roomers.  Living here in 1873 was an erudite and multi-talented young man whose ad in the New-York Tribune on September 22, 1873 read: "A Harvard Graduate, experienced and highly recommended, will instruct a private pupil two or three hours daily in Classics, French, Mathematics, &c.; city references.  Address C. K. No. 112 East Tenth-st."  Two months later, "C. K." advertised, "An experienced tenor desires a position in quartet or as precentor; Protestant church in or near city preferred."

For a second time, Sarah Raefle had to arrange a sister's funeral.  Caroline Elizabeth Bunce died on February 1, 1876 and her funeral was held in the house at 1:00 on the afternoon of February 5.

A daughter, Verona Beatrice, was born to Maximilian and Sarah Raefle on October 18, 1878.  In the meantime, Dr. Raefle's prestige in the medical community grew.  

On December 16, 1879, The Evening Telegram reported on the appointments of deputy coroners.  "Dr. Maximilian Raefle, of No. 112 East Tenth street, was appointed Mr. Brady's deputy," said the article.  Raefle held the position for 11 years, and on October 14, 1890, The New York Times reported that he had been nominated for coroner.  Noting that he voted Republican, the article went on to say:

He lives at 112 East Tenth Street, is a German by birth, and is a physician of first-class reputation.  He is about fifty years of age, and is a Grand Army man, and has already seen service in the Coroners' office, having been Deputy Coroner under John H. Brady some years ago.

Michael Springer, Jr. lived with his parents in "the German quarter of Fifth street in the neighborhood of Second avenue," as described by the New York Herald.  Michael Springer, Sr. ran a butcher shop at 242 Fifth Street and Michael Jr., who was 22, worked as a butcher's boy in the Tompkins Market.

On June 26, 1890, Michael Jr., described by the newspaper as "stoutly built and fair haired," began to complain of the heat.  The article said that he "was suddenly seized with violent spasms and began barking like a dog, rolling about on the floor, snapping and snarling and acting as though he were stark mad."  Police were called to control the young man.  Michael "attempted to fight the policeman, conducting himself in such a violent manner and making such frantic attempts to bite him that [Officer] McEvoy at length thrust his club into Michael's mouth."

Someone ran to 112 East 10th Street and requested Dr. Raefle to assist.  He, however, responded rather coldly (considering his Hippocratic Oath).  The New York Herald recounted, "but he did not respond, saying, it is reported, that the sufferer was a fit subject for an asylum."  Michael Springer, Jr. was taken to Bellevue Hospital where he was later discharged after "recovering from the effects of excessive drink."

Maximilian and Sarah Raefle sold 112 East 10th Street on April 11, 1893 to Franz Kahlenberg for $17,300 (about $622,000 today).  Because the couple had been taking in several roomers, the house was described by the New York Herald as a "five story brick tenement."  

Franz Kahlenberg ran a drugstore at the corner of Essex and East Houston Street.  He had been in business there since 1854.  He and his family continued to take in roomers.  Among them in 1898 was 46-year-old John Williamson.  He was described by The New York Times as "small of stature, and with an unappeased appetite for religious lore," adding, "He is said to be a man of strong religious views, and a devout student of the Bible."  Unfortunately for Williamson, one edict within the Scriptures he ignored was "Thou shalt not steal."

On December 17, 1898, The New York Times reported that he was arrested in the American Baptist Publishing Company's bookstore, "attempting to steal a book."  The bookstore's manager, Theodore E. Schulte, had become suspicious of Williamson because he repeatedly visited the store, reading a page or two from a book, then moving to another, but never buying anything.  That afternoon, Schulte watched him and "was not surprised, so he says, to see him slip a book in his pocket."  At the stationhouse, Williamson tearfully insisted, "They must be mistaken."

Another religiously-inclined tenant was Frank W. Smith, a grand knight of the Knights of Columbus.  He was appointed a commissioner of deeds in 1899, a civil service position similar to a notary public today.  

In the fall of 1900, the attention of Frank W. Smith was directed to another of the 1861 houses, 27 Stuyvesant Street.  He filed a complaint with the police department "of disorderly house, women soliciting."  Smith was accusing the owner of running a brothel in his neighborhood.

Smith was still occupying his rooms here in 1902.  He was highly involved in the organizing of "the annual field day games of the Knights of Columbus," as reported by The New York Times on May 11 that year.  The event, which took place on June 21 at Celtic Park was a huge success.  Smith told the newspaper "that already more than 3,000 tickets of admission have been sold," and projected that "more than 10,000 will be sold before the day of the games."

By that time, Frank W. Smith had a new landlord.  Elias Stone had purchased 112 East 10th Street in August 1901 for $20,000, according to the New-York Tribune.  (The price would translate to about $761,000 today.)

Stone made improvements to the property.  In July 1904, he hired architect David Stone to rearrange the floor plans, install plumbing and new windows.

Elias Stone continued to operated 112 East 10th Street as a rooming house until 1927.  A renovation completed the following year resulted in "non-housekeeping apartments" on the first floor (meaning they had no kitchens), and one apartment each on the upper floors.  The apartments were intended for artists.  The windows on each floor (even the first) were replaced with vast, multi-paned studio windows that flooded the interiors with natural light.  The attic floor was raised to full height and a full-width skylight added.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Among the initial residents was painter, lithographer, and etcher Anne Goldthwaite.  Born in Montgomery, Alabama, she had studied at the National Academy of Design in New York and the Academie Moderne in Paris.  By the time she moved into her apartment here, she had received the McMillin landscape prize of the National Association of Women Painters and Sculptors in 1915; and a medal for etching at the Panama-Pacific Exposition in San Francisco the same year.  The 1929 One Hundred Important Paintings By Living American Artists noted that she was "represented in the Library of Congress, Metropolitan Museum and several other museums here and abroad."

Anne Goldthwaite, from Encyclopedia of Alabama

A journalist from the New York Evening Post visited Goldthwaite's studio in September 1933.  She asked the artist if she were "a bit thrilled" to be the only woman whose work would be included in the 56th exhibition of the Art Students' League.

"And, pray, why should I be?" Goldthwaite replied. "The time surely is past when there was some distinction in being the 'only girl' or the 'only woman' among a lot of men who were doing things.  Thank goodness, there are plenty of us today."

In reporting on Anne Goldthwaite's death on January 30, 1944, The New York Times noted that she had been an instructor at the Art Students' League "for the last twenty-three years," and that her works "are hung in prominent galleries" throughout America and Europe.  The article said, "In France, she numbered among her friends Picasso, Matisse and other prominent contemporary painters."

Among Goldthwaite's neighbors in the building in 1932 had been mining engineer Pomeroy C. Merrill.  He had just returned to America from the Soviet Union.  The Soviet Government hired him in 1930 to direct iron mining operations in the Ural Mountains.  Following World War II, he would go to Japan to help the occupation forces rebuild the Japanese iron ore industry.

After mid-century, art expert David Rosen lived here.  From 1934 to 1954, he headed the conservation and technical research department of the Walters Art Gallery in Baltimore.  He had also been a technical adviser to the Art Institute of Chicago, the Morgan Library, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Winterthur Museum in Delaware, and the Worcester Art Museum.  Born in Russia, he was a sculptor and painter before coming to America in 1913.  An expert in authenticating art works and detecting frauds, among his finds was a Gilbert Stuart portrait of George Washington which he found in a museum basement in 1941.  Rosen was still living here when he died at the age of 80 in 1960.

image via greatjonesrealty.com

The remodeling of 122 East 10th Street greatly altered the original design.  And yet, the handsome and compatible melding of the 1861 and 1928 compositions is extremely successful, resulting in an eye catching hybrid.

many thanks to reader Richard Gombar for suggesting this post