The 1838 Jacob Weeks House - 64 East Third Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

Builder John Hanrahan erected two identical, brick-faced homes at 56 and 58 Third Street (renumbered 62 and 64 East 3rd Street in 1867) around 1838.  The 18-foot-wide residences were designed in the emerging Greek Revival style.  Intricate cast iron stoop railings wrapped the newels, which sat atop stone drums.  Typical of the style, the entrance was slightly recessed behind sturdy pilasters that supported a heavy stone entablature.  The doorway was flanked by narrow sidelights and topped by a three-part transom.  The third floor openings would have been slightly shorter than the others, and a simple wooden cornice would have completed the design.

Robert Carnley, the original owner of 58 Third Street, either quickly sold or rented the house to coal merchant Jacob Weeks.  He was born on Mott Street on June 25, 1803 and The New York Times later recalled, "His parents were English Quakers, of thrifty and industrious habits, and inculcated in their son almost from the cradle those lessons of economy and attention to business that laid the foundation of a large fortune."

Weeks operated three coal yards--on the Bowery, Greene Street and Houston Street.  He added another profession to his listing in the 1840 city directory: "builder."  The New York Times explained, "the universal up-town movement of population decided him to embark in real estate operations.  At that time, he occupied a modest mansion in Third-street."

In the rear yard, as was common at the time, was a smaller house.  Such structures were often used as rental income.  A Black family occupied the rear house of 58 Third Street in 1840.  They were terrified that spring when their son went missing.  An announcement in The Evening Post on May 20 read:

Missing--On the 5th instant, a colored boy, nine years old, named Lawrence Williams, left his home in a manner so mysterious that it thought he was kidnapped.  His complexion is rather light, has an impediment in his speech, and when he went away he was poorly dressed and barefooted.  Any information respecting him, left in the rear of 58 Third street, with his father Thomas Williams, would be gratefully received by his anxious parents.

Thomas M. Cornwell was a trusted clerk of Weeks and as early as 1843 he and his wife, Georgeana, boarded in the East 3rd Street house.  On April 27 that year, the New-York Tribune reported a shocking incident, saying that Jacob Weeks had been arrested "and committed for stealing $19 from the drawer of Thos. Cornwell, 58 Third-street."  The article prompted an immediate reaction from Jacob Weeks.

In fact, the perpetrator was David Roberts.  The following day, the newspaper published an apologetic correction, "owing to the mistake of our informant," and stressed that Jacob Weeks was "a highly respectable man."

The amiable employee-employer relationship was apparently strong and 15 years later the Cornwells were still living with the Weeks.  In October 1857, Georgeana gave birth to their first son, Thomas Jr.  Tragically, he died eight months later on May 15, 1858.

The Cornwells moved out shortly afterward.  Jacob and his wife remained until 1865.  By then, his real estate development business was flourishing.  For instance, he erected "a row of magnificent residences," as described by The New York Times, that engulfed the western blockfront of Fifth Avenue between 57th and 58th Streets.  (They would be replaced by the sprawling Cornelius Vanderbilt II mansion.)  When Jacob Weeks died on September 9, 1881 in his mansion at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 58th Street, he left an estate estimated "at from $3,000,000 to $4,000,000," according to The Times.  It would translate to about $95 million on the lower side in 2026.

In the meantime, the East 3rd Street house was rented to the David H. Goodman family.  Goodman ran a clothing business at 116 Chambers Street.  He and his wife suffered an unspeakable tragedy shortly after moving in.  On August 19, 1865, The New York Times reported that their five-year-old son, "was accidentally run over, and instantly killed" by a streetcar at Third Street and Second Avenue.

The Goodmans were replaced in the house around 1867 by Edward Mehl, who operated two saloons--one at 661 Broadway and the other at 156 Fulton Street--and his family occupied 64 East 3rd Street.  The Mehls remained at least through 1871.

The house was owned by William Hoertel as early as March 12, 1876 when he offered, "To Let--A second floor, furnished, suitable for a gentleman and wife; or will let separate to single gentlemen."  Hoertel quickly changed his mind, however, and two months later he sold the house to Jacob and Marie A. Kessler for $12,000 (about $362,000 today).

The Kesslers operated it as a boarding house.  Among the residents in 1879 were Conrad Latus, a meat dealer in the Centre Market; Michael W. Meagher, a stenographer; and Herman Wellhausen, who worked as a clerk.

After boarding here for at least four years, on July 1, 1883 Conrad and Catharine Latus purchased the house for $11,500.  Their young adult daughter, Kate, taught in the Primary Department of Grammar School No. 4 on Rivington Street.

As early as 1887, Dr. John F. Sherman lived here.  He operated his practice from the house, likely in the basement level.  He was called to a rooming house on the Bowery in January that year to attend Alice Collins, a 19-year-old girl who had attempted a self abortion.  She died on January 29 and Sherman "refused a death certificate," instead referring the case to the coroner.  The coroner's inquest discovered that Redfield Clarke, an actor, "had betrayed the girl."

Dr. John F. Sherman was intimately aware of "betrayal."  Five years earlier, when he was 24 years old and living with his mother and step-father on Clinton Street, he met a 15-year-old girl, Matilda L. Stowell.  The New-York Tribune said "he betrayed her under promise of marriage."  When Sherman's step-father, George Sherman, heard that he had "ruined" the teen, he threatened "to break every bone in his body," according to the New-York Tribune, if the young doctor did not marry her.  And Matilda's family threatened "with incarceration in Ludlow Street Jail."

The wedding took place on June 3, 1882, but the couple never lived together.  Now, on January 22, 1889 Sherman sought an escape from Matilda when she sued for support.  He applied in court to annul the marriage "on the ground that he was intoxicated when it took place," as reported by the New-York Tribune, and that he had been under intense pressure and threats.  Sherman told the court that he "is so upset by the persistent demands of his wife that he should live with her and by threats of publicity that he is unable to carry on his business as a physician."  (It is unclear how the case played out.)

Real estate operator Anna Maria Fronmuller purchased the house in April 1891 for $16,250--equal to about $578,000 today. Exactly one year later, on April 2, 1892, the Record & Guide reported that she had hired architects Boekell & Son to make the equivalent of $124,000 today in renovations.  The house was enlarged with a three-story extension in the rear, "interior alterations" were made, and the exterior was given a Queen Anne-style re-do.

Decorated pressed metal cornices were applied over the lintels, and an elaborate entablature and pedimented cornice was placed over the entrance.  It was echoed in the corbeled terminal cornice with its triangular pediment.

64 East 3rd Street originally matched No. 62 next door.  When this photograph was taken in 1940, workers were painting the brick.  The Greek Revival stoop ironwork was intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The residents in the renovated home were middle-class.  On May 16, 1901, for instance, the Morning Telegraph reported, "Julius Harburger pushed his little cart Tuesday from 104 Second Avenue, his old home, to 64 East Third street, where he will abide in the future."  Harburger was an assemblyman, and in the cart were "the manuscripts of all the speeches" he had made "during the last thirty-one years," according to the newspaper that added, "He wouldn't let any one else touch them."

Julius Harburger was born on February 22, 1851.  He was elected president of the Tenth Assembly District in 1876 and to the New York State Assembly in 1876.  He would go on to become Coroner of New York City in 1905 and Sheriff of New York County in 1911.

Julius Harburger, from the collection of the Library of Congress

Harburger's wife, Hattie, was also politically active.  On October 6, 1901, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Julius Harburger, wife of Assemblyman Harburger, and President of the Women's Democratic Club of the east side, presided at a meeting of the auxiliary Committee of the club" in the house.

Following the Harburgers in the house in 1902 was Dr. Solomon Goldenkranz, the city coroner.  (Ironically, Harburger would replace him in that position three years later.)  In 1902 Goldenkranz was disgruntled with the changes in the neighborhood.  He told a reporter from the New-York Tribune in August:

There is a row of houses in the next block where the passer on the street would have no difficulty in picking out evidence of the presence of vicious people.  Then in the cafes and billiard rooms there is a great deal of gambling going on.  These little German cafes, as well as some of the bigger Raines law hotels, are the resorts of people of this sort.

The mention of "Raine law hotels" referred to saloons that operated rooms upstairs for prostitution.

There was at least one person who was aggravated by Goldenkranz's appointment to coroner and, according to Goldenkranz, he "was conspiring to kill him."  So when two mysterious packages arrived at 64 East 3rd Street on December 6, 1901, Goldenkranz was certain they were bombs.  The New York Press reported that while "picking his steps with extreme care," he took the unopened packages to the Fifth Street Police Station.  He gently placed them on the desk and whispered to Acting Captain Churchill, "Infernal machines! I received them this morning in the mail."

Churchill refused to accept them and said, "We'll go right around to court."  He also refused to carry them, directing Goldenkranz to do so.

In the courtroom, Magistrate Mott scoffed, "Afraid of them, are you?  Pooh!  I'll open them."

As the court attendants stared, Mott opened the first package.  "There was revealed a piece of gaspipe, four inches long.  From one end protruded matches," said the article.  The mob whispered, "A bomb!"

Mott opened the second package.  It contained another piece of lead pipe.  But, like the first, it had no powder and no fuse.  The dummy bombs were apparently sent to Goldenkranz simply to alarm him.

During the World War I years, the Hartwell family occupied 64 East 3rd Street.  Early on, Albert Sydney Hartwell volunteered to fight in the war because of his family's ties to France.  The New-York Tribune said, "His mother is French, and he went overseas long before the United States declared war."  The young man fought on the French front and "was twice wounded in both legs when his ambulance was hit by shells and was gassed once," said the newspaper.

On June 5, 1919, The New York Times reported that 4,000 troops had arrived at Hoboken on the transport ships Patricia and St. Louis.  "The most decorated man on the St. Louis was Private Albert Sydney Hartwell of 64 East Third Street, who wore on his breast the Distinguished Service Cross, the Medal Militaire, and the Croix de Guerre with four stars."  The article added, "He is 21 years old."

The estate of Anna Fronmuller sold 64 East 3rd Street in January 1922 to Dr. Joseph I. Singer.  The New-York Tribune noted that he "plans extensive alterations."

photograph by Carole Teller

By the late 1960s, the house had been converted to four cooperative apartments.  The Greek Revival ironwork was replaced with modern examples and the 1892 entrance decoration was removed.  The 1838 interior doorway remains reasonably intact.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The Music School Settlement (Maryhouse) - 51-55 East 3rd Street

 

Around 1835, Jonathan Wilt erected three two-and-a-half story, Federal-style homes at 51 through 55 Third Street (the "East" would come later).  Three bays wide and faced in brick, they would have had short stoops and their peaked roofs would have been pierced by dormers.  The paneled lintels (only one of which survives unscathed) were an added touch.

The original residents were middle class.  Peter R. Morgan, whose family occupied No. 51 in 1836, was a tinsmith.  His next-door neighbor by 1840 was Edward H. Arthur, a bank teller; and Theodore Banks lived at 55.  He listed his profession simply as "merchant."

Expectedly, the homes went through a series of ownerships over the coming decades.  In 1853, the Winterton family occupied No. 51.  William Winterton ran a coal business and William B. Winterton was an attorney.  Living next door were the Goodmans.  Max and Samuel Goodman were merchants, Samuel listing his business as "clothing."  The family was still here in 1863 when David H. Goodman suffered a horrible tragedy.  Without giving specifics (like the boy's name), The New York Times reported on August 19:

A son of Mr. David H. Goodman, of No. 53 Third-street, was accidentally run over, and instantly killed, last evening, in Third-street, by car No. 11 of the Second-avenue line.  The boy was 5 years of age.

Joseph and Elizabeth Demmer owned 51 East 3rd Street as early as 1876.  Demmer operated two "eatinghouses," one on Lispenard Street and the other on Canal.  The couple sold the house to Robert and Maria Bley in 1886 for $13,000 (about $447,000 in 2025 terms).  They hired architect Julius Kastner to built a piazza (or back porch) soon afterward.

It was about this time that the attics of all three houses were raised to a full story.

In the 19th century, a common method of disposing of inconvenient relatives was to have them committed to an asylum.  On July 6, 1889, Christian Grotrian, who lived at 53 East 3rd Street, committed his wife, Louise, to the Bloomingdale Insane Asylum.  He then moved Mrs. Mina Fischer into the house, allegedly as his housekeeper.

Christian Grotrian died in January 1892.  The World reported, "He was wealthy and owned $50,000 worth of real estate."  (The figure would translate to $1.78 million today.)  On October 12, the newspaper noted, "Mina Fischer lived at the Grotrian house.  She is in possession [of it] now."  Also in the East 3rd Street house was, presumably, Louise Grotrian's jewelry.  The World said her, "collection of diamonds was valued at $10,000."  And The Sun reported, "He left $20 a week for his wife's maintenance."

When a visitor called at the asylum, Louise asked her, according to The Sun, "where her dresses and diamonds were.  She said she had only old clothes at the asylum and that she didn't think her husband should have put Mrs. Fischer in charge of everything."  Another time, a visitor, Mary (known as Lulu) Schaffer, visited Louise accompanied by Mina Fischer.  Louise told Lulu, "Mrs. Fischer has my fur cape on."

In December, Louise Grotian, who was now 50 years old, pleaded to be released from the institution.  The Sun reported that Superintendent Lyons, "admitted that he had offered to release her last summer if some one would agree to care for her."  Apparently no one had come forward.  Louise appeared before Judge Pryor on December 16, 1892.  She was backed up by friends who "testified that she talked sensibly to them," according to The Sun.

Unfortunately for Louise, she became emotional in court.  She disrupted the proceedings by saying in part (in broken English), "I swore I would stay by [Grotrian] whenever there is hair on my head, and I declared his name ever since.  I will suffered for him when he married me for a true wife."  The Sun reported, "After a little more of this imperfect English, Judge Pryor said he thought they had heard enough."  Louise was deemed insane and returned to the asylum.

Immediately after Louise's removal from the courtroom, "a row occurred among the factions of each side in the case," reported The Sun.  Enraged that Lulu Schaefer had testified against her, "Mrs. Mina Fischer, sole executrix of the will of Grotrian, said, shaking her fist at Mrs. Lulu Schaefer: 'I've won, and I'll have my revenge on you."

In the meantime, No. 53 was being operated as The Jewish Mission by D. Landsmann.  Landsmann founded the mission on July 12, 1883.  In his 1896 Lutherans In All Lands, Rev. J. N. Lenker wrote that Landsmann worked "with great zeal among orthodox Jews, who had but recently arrived from Russia, Galicia, Poland, and Hungary."

The Jewish Mission ended here in 1903 when the house and 55 East 3rd Street were acquired by the Society of Music School Settlement.  Founded by Emilie Wagner in 1894, her goal was to provide music and culture to immigrant children.  Architect Grosvenor Atterbury was hired to convert the vintage houses to a single "three-story and basement brick and stone Settlement House," as described in his plans in June 1904.  The alterations were significant--entailing the refiguring of the interior walls, the removal of the stoops and eliminating the doorway of No. 55, and creating an arched, Colonial-inspired entrance at 53 East 3rd.

In its June 1904 issue, The New Era remarked that the settlement, "is soon to be quartered in the large and commodious building at Nos. 53-55 East Third Street, which is now being remodelled [sic]."

Within five years, the Music School Settlement had outgrown its new home.  In 1909, 51 East 3rd Street was acquired and the architectural firm of Bosworth & Holden was commissioned to integrate it into the complex.  At the same time, they added a floor to No. 55 and gave the buildings matching, projecting cornices.

Wreaths decorate the windows as students pose outside the building in the snow in 1917.  Musical America, February 24, 1917 (copyright expired)

In 1913, a piano tuning class for the blind was initiated here.  The Outlook for the Blind reported in autumn that year, "The first class started with eight pupils; the number has now increased to 40."

The Outlook, February 22, 1908 (copyright expired)

The 1916 Status and Value of Music in Education said that 800 children were enrolled here and explained, 

They are taught piano, violin and 'cello, sight reading, musical theory, ensemble playing and singing.  They pay twenty-five cents a lesson, and scholarships are given to those too poor to pay.  Success has been so great that thousands have been turned away.

The Outlook, February 22, 1908 (copyright expired)

The Music School Settlement orchestra gave an annual Spring Concert in Aeolian Hall.  On April 18, 1920, The Sun reported, "A hundred boys and girls of the cliff dwelling [i.e. tenement] section of New York called 'the lower East Side'...gave a sophisticated audience one of the surprises of the winter."  The article said that many of the society folk "went in a complacent sort of way because of the request of some friends, they had made out annual checks for a settlement house they had heard much about."  Expecting mediocrity, they were stunned.

The Outlook, February 22, 1908 (copyright expired)

The performances of the 6- to 14-year-old musicians were "an eye opener," said the article.  "It was a concert that satisfied a refined musical sense and amazed some persons in the audience who still regard the 'lower East Side' as a sort of foreign land."

The Junior Orchestra rehearsing in the Music School Settlement.  Musical America, February 24, 1917 (copyright expired)

In 1974, the Music School Settlement moved to East 11th Street.  The East 3rd Street property was acquired by the Catholic Worker Movement, which christened it Maryhouse.  It was founded in 1933 in part by journalist, social activist and  anarchist Dorothy Day.  Maryhouse offers shelter to the homeless.  

Writing in The Catholic Worker on March 1, 1981, David Beseda and Ruth Clements said, 

The overwhelming needs of the people in the street have exerted continuing pressure on our lives at Maryhouse as we try to keep our doors open to those in need.  Like other houses of hospitality, we rarely have an empty bed these days, and since we are trying to live together as a family there is always a tension between keeping a quality of life in the house that is peaceful and personal and, on the other hand, wanting to respond to everyone that comes to us.

Looking somewhat bedraggled today, Maryhouse continues to assist and house those in need.

photographs by the author

Tenement to Mansion - The 1901 47 East 3rd Street

 

Real estate developers Miller, Mofsenson & Brill erected a five-story apartment building at 47 and 49 East Third Street in 1901.  Designed by Michael Bernstein, its Renaissance Revival design included intricate carving around the entrance frame, which was capped with a prominent, bracketed cornice.  Bernstein contrasted the beige Roman brick of the base with four floors of red brick.  Their elaborate stone and terra cotta decorations included ornate panels, window ornaments, and faux balconies flanked with fluted columns and topped with impressive arched pediments.  A complex cornice crowned the design.

Typical of the working and lower-middle class tenants of 47 East 3rd Street were Isaac Chelsky and Abraham Bartnofsky, who both worked for the United States Condensed Milk Company.  They attached address labels to milk orders for the delivery drivers.  

Another early resident was Abraham Weise.  In the fall of 1904, an out-of-town friend visited and on September 23 Weise took him around town on a trolley car to see the sights.  The Morning Telegraph reported, "Passing Thirty-ninth street there is a sharp turn.  Weise was pointing out to his friend the Casino when the turn was made, and Weise lost his balance and fell from the car."  The would-be tour guide broke both his legs.  Later he told a reporter, "It's the first time in twelve years that I have been on Broadway.  The Bowery for me, when I get out of the hospital."

Alexander J. Barth, a barber, endeavored to better his life by becoming an attorney.  He took the Regents' examination twice--failing both times.  Frustrated, he hired a substitute to take his third test.  Unfortunately, his goal to be a lawyer would not come to be.  His subterfuge was discovered when two informants came forth.  On June 9, 1911 he confessed and was fine $100.  (It was a significant penalty for the barber, equal to about $3,500 in 2025 terms.)

Edward Barnes, who was 19 years old, lived here in 1922.  On May 14 that year, he and four cohorts, one of whom drove a taxicab, went looking for a victim.  They found one in 30-year-old Joseph Zaliski who was headed home at 1 a.m.  At the corner of East 3rd Street and Second Avenue, Barnes and two others jumped out of the cab and beat and robbed Zaliski.  The Evening World reported that they, "broke his nose and closed his eyes with blackjacks and fists and took $112 from his pocket."

Zaliski's cries were heard by an ambulance driver, known as Red.  He picked up a policeman on the street and pursued the fleeing taxicab with the ambulance's siren blaring.  When the cab pulled over, the driver said, "What's the big idea?  We don't want no ambulance."

Red replied, "No, but you're liable to want one in a minute.  Here's a load of cops want to talk to you."  Policeman Henry Hagen stepped out of the ambulance with his gun drawn.  Edward Barnes and his accomplices were arrested.

A more respectable tenant who lived here in the 1920s was J. Bolotoff.  He worked in theatrical make-up.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

As the 20th century drew to a close, the tenor of the East Village neighborhood changed.  Once populated with struggling immigrants, it was increasingly becoming a hip district with trendy shops and restaurants.

In 2003, Alistair and Catherine Economakis purchased 47 East Third Street.  The New York Times reported, "The building has 15 apartments, with tenants paying rents of $500 to $950 a month."  Almost immediately, the couple notified their tenants that their leases would not be renewed.  On June 26, 2005, The New York Times explained, "the couple planned to live in the building with their infant son and take over all 11,600 square feet."

The plans would result in a 60-room mansion with "five bedrooms, six bathrooms, a den, a playroom, a gym, a library, a study area, a dining room, a kitchen and a living room," said the article.  At the time, the tenants were battling the evictions.

Three years later, on December 12, 2008, The Independent reported that the nine remaining tenants, fearing they would lose in court, conceded to a buyout.  Each received $75,000 for vacating their apartments by the end of August 2009.  

In 2012, as renovations were still ongoing, the Economakis family moved into the building.  Construction of what is now a single-family home was completed in 2017. 

many thanks to reader Carole Teller for suggesting this post.

photographs by the author