The Hotel Albert - University Place and 11th Street

 

Midway between two elegant residential enclaves--Washington Square and Union Square--the block of East 11th Street between University Place and Broadway was lined with elegant Greek Revival and Italianate homes in the mid-1850s.  In 1875, businessman Albert S. Rosenbaum hired architect James Irving Howard to convert three of them--32 through 36 East 11th Street--into a hotel.  (The addresses would be renumbered 46 to 50 later.)  Containing 120 rooms, the Hotel St. Stephen was opened in 1876 under the proprietorship of hotelier William Ryder.

An advertisement on October 8, 1876 read:

11th St. West, Nos. 32, 34, 36--Elegant Rooms, newly furnished, stationary washstands, ample closets, all conveniences, with or without Board; terms very moderate; strictly first class.  Hotel St. Stephens [sic].

The History and Commerce of New York called the St. Stephen, "one of the best appointed hotels in a city noted for its superior hotel accommodations."  Rates "are $1.00 per day and upward," said the article.  The base figure would translate to about $35.50 in 2026.

Soon after opening, the hotel was nearly the victim of a sneak thief.  On November 28, 1876, Henry Bird checked in.  That evening, a clerk, De Witt Bogardus, walked through the halls "to see if everything was right," according to the New York Herald.  He saw Bird, "leave his room and stealthily secret something under the carpet of the main corridor."  Bogardus summoned Detective Slevin who discovered that Bird had hidden a pair of "nippers."  Slevin said they "are used by hotel thieves for opening room doors."  When Bird could not provide an explanation, he was arrested for carrying burglars' tools.

In 1882, Albert S. Rosenbaum increased his enterprise by erecting the Hotel Albert, an apartment hotel, abutting the St. Stephen at the corner.  Henry Janesway Hardenberg (who was simultaneously working on the Western Union Telegraph Building and a long row of houses on West 73rd Street off Central Park West), was the architect.  As he had done in his Dakota Apartment two years earlier, he creatively blended styles--in this case French Renaissance and Queen Anne.  William D. Ryder now managed both properties for Rosenbaum.

An advertisement on November 5, 1883 called The Albert, "One of the finest furnished and safest apartment-houses in New-York City."  Almost as a post script, "Also, Hotel St. Stephen," was added at the bottom.

Stereopticon slide by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The two venues coexisted--the St. Stephen as a transient hotel and The Albert as an apartment house.  Perhaps the first artistic figure to patronize either of them was writer Robert Lewis Stevenson, who occupied rooms in the St. Stephen in 1888.  In January 1919, The New York Times recalled his posing for Auguste Saint-Gaudens for his "medallion portrait."  The article said, "His method of 'sitting for his portrait,' however, was to lie, always smoking his inevitable cigarettes, in his bed in the old Hotel St. Stephen."

Living in The Hotel Albert in 1890 were Charles and Anne G. Rhind and their 47-year-old daughter Frances.  They were members of "one of the oldest Southern families in the city," according to The Evening World, and "belong to an ultra-fashionable set."  

At around 1:00 on the morning of December 14, T. P. Sorrenson, who was staying in the St. Stephen and whose rooms looked into the courtyard, "saw a white object pass his window," as reported by the New-York Tribune.  The object, it turned out, was Frances Rhind in a suicidal plunge. 

Living in The Albert in the 1890s was author Kate Douglas Wiggins, best known for her novel and stage play Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.  

An seventh floor was added to the Hotel Albert in 1891 and by 1895 the two operations were merged as the Hotel Albert-St. Stephen.

An 1896 ad touts the combined hotels. (copyright expired)

The operation continued to expand.  In 1903 the architectural firm of Buchman & Fox was hired to design a 12-story addition at 67 University Place.  The architects' design made no attempt to meld into the earlier structure.  An advertisement in the September 1906 issue of American Education listed the room rates at "$1 per day up.  100 rooms with private bath $2 per day up."

The addition was depicted in an advertisement in American Education in September 1906 (copyright expired)

In 1918, the Knott Hotels took over the management of the complex.  It wasted little time to disassociate the vintage St. Stephen buildings from the hotel operation.  On May 19, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that the A. S. Rosenbaum estate had leased the Hotel St. Stephen building, "a landmark of the University place section," to the Bonar Phelphs Company, "manufacturer of straw hats."  The article said the firm intended to "convert the hotel into a mercantile structure."

 from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

With the loss of significant income-producing square footage, the operation, like a kudzu vine, again expanded southward.  In 1922 The Caterer reported, "The Knott Hotels will add 150 rooms to the Hotel Albert...The annex will be ready for the fall."  The six-story building, at the northeast corner of University Place and 10th Street opened in 1924.  Designed by William L. Bottomley with Sugarman, Hess & Berger, it, too, did not attempt to meld into the earlier structures.

An announcement in The New York Evening Post informed the public, "We have opened [a] new addition of 119 rooms in Hotel Albert.  This addition faces Southwest at corner of University Place and 10th Street."  The "permanent occupancy" rooms and baths rented for $75 to $100 a month.  (The most expensive rent equal to $1,840 in 2026.)

By the 1960s, rooms in the Hotel Albert were rented by the week.  An advertisement in July 1970 listed the rents for a room with private back starting at $40 a week, and for rooms with shared baths starting at $23.

An article in The Villager on August 28, 1969, recounted the hotel's celebrated guests over the decades.  "It is believed that Jennie Lind, Edwin Booth and Thomas Edison were patrons of the hotel," said the article.  At the time of that article, embedded letters spelling out "Hotel St. Stephen" were still visible in the stone sidewalk on East 11th Street.

The article missed a few names.  Decades later The New York Times columnist Christopher Gray would recall,

Hart Crane wrote part of his 1930 poem "The Bridge" while there, and Thomas Wolfe used it as inspiration for the Hotel Leopold in his 1935 novel "Of Time and the River...It became the crash pad for rock musicians, checking in the Electric Flag, Canned Heat, Cream, Paul Butterfield and the Blues Project.

In 1975, the Rockrose Development Corporation acquired the complex.  It evicted the residents and on December 30, 1976, The Villager reported that the developer "is trying to recapture, if not its most glamorous past, at least a touch of the elegance that was associated with the Hotel Albert a half-century ago."  The now-vacant buildings, said the article, "are being renovated into luxury apartments for what the developers call 'brownstone-type' living with the advantages of doormen and elevators."

The architecturally dissimilar buildings that made up the Hotel Albert retained the historic name following the renovation.  Originally rental apartments, the Albert became a co-op in 1984.

photographs by the author

The 1837 Jonas Wood House - 285 East Third Street

photograph by Carole Teller

 

In 1837, just 26 years after the Commissioners' Plan laid out on paper the streets that would dissect lands owned by Nicholas and Elizabeth Fish, ship carver Charles Dodge erected a row of six brick-faced homes on the north side of the newly opened Third Street between Avenues C and D.  Three stories tall and 22-feet-wide above English basements, the houses reflected the emerging Greek Revival style.  The builder arranged them as three mirror-image pairs that shared a stoop divided by a wing wall and iron railing.  The side-by-side doorways were framed by brownstone pilasters that upheld a single-layered entablature and molded cornice.

Attorney Jonas Wood first occupied 285 Third Street (the "East" in the address would be added in the early 1860s).  Highly involved in local politics, he had run for assemblyman in 1833.   He was, as well, a "trustee of the funds" of the Eight Ward Mutual Assurance Association.

The house saw a succession of residents through the 1840s and 1850s.  Charles H. Hillard was listed here in 1845; Robert I. Furney, a teacher in Public School No. 13 on Madison Street in 1847; and engineer Charles Garrison in 1850 and '51.

In 1852 Frances M. Murray and her daughters moved in, almost assuredly leasing the house.  Born in 1797, she was the widow of Thomas Murray.  

The two eldest daughters, Frances J. and Anna Murray, worked in Public School No. 22 on the corner of Stanton and Sheriff Streets in 1852.  Francis was the principal of the Girls' Department and Anna was a teacher.  Their positions were reflected in the women's salaries.  Francis earned $600 a year, and Anna $200.  (The figures would translate to $23,000 and $7,680 in 2026.)  Their younger sister, Louisa, would also become a teacher and in 1858 she worked at P. S. No. 15 on Fifth Street. 

Like many middle-class widows, Frances M. Murray took in boarders.  Living here that first year were Frederick Bevin, a real estate agent, and seaman David Hall.

Frances M. Murray moved to 817 East 4th Street in 1864.  She died there on March 8, 1869.

No. 285 East 3rd Street continued to house boarders.  Living here in 1864 were William Raise; Jacob Basch, a turner (the operator of a lathe to make items like spindles); and cigarmaker Samuel Goldberg.  Nicholas Baum, a smith, occupied the smaller house in the rear yard.

Although William Raise still listed his address at 285 Third Street that year, he was off fighting with the Union Army.  On July 15, 1864, he and 127 other Union guards were transporting 833 Confederate prisoners of war from Point Lookout, Maryland to Elmira, New New York on a 17-car train pulled by a wood-burning steam locomotive.

At around 2:45 p.m. the train collided head-on with a coal train at Shohola Township, Pennsylvania, about 19 miles from Port Jervis, New York.  At least 51 Confederal soldiers and 17 Union guards were killed instantly or within a day after.  The next day, the Troy, New York Daily Whig reported that among those who were injured, but not killed, at "Shin Hollow," was William Raise.

The Levy Hirsch family first occupied 285 East 3rd Street around 1867.  A cigarmaker, his family also took in boarders.  In 1868 tailor Michael Durmann occupied the rear house; and Simon Falk and Andrew Lynch lived with the Hirsches.  Simon Falk listed his profession as "segars," suggesting that he worked for Hirsch; and Lynch was a carpenter.

Jacob Kettner, who purchased 285 East 3rd Street around 1872, most likely knew Levy Hirsch.  He, too, operated a cigarmaking business.  Joseph R. Kettner worked for his father.  Boarding with the family in 1873 were fruit dealer Daniel M. Vineberg, and Maximilian Kutz, a real estate agent.

In 1876 George Davis, a police officer, boarded here and he would remain through 1879.  It was possibly his influence that prompted Joseph Kettner to leave his father's cigar business and apply to the Police Department.  In 1879, he was accepted as a patrolman earning $1,000 a year (about $33,000 today).

In March 1900, the Kettner family leased 285 East 3rd Street to Jacob and Rosa Lewis.  Jacob, who was in the clothing business, dabbled in real estate.  On May 19, 1905, for instance, The New York Times reported that he was making $5,000 in alterations to a "five-story brick tenement" at 218 East 7th Street; and in September 1909 he updated two "four-story brick tenements" on Avenue A.

The Kettner family sold the house to Abraham Heiler around 1909.  He continued to lease it to the Lewis family.  In June 1910, Heiler modernized the house by adding indoor plumbing and, importantly, "toilets."  The renovations cost him the equivalent of $52,400 today.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

After Morris Beck purchased 285 East 3rd Street in October 1921, it became a rooming house.  The Depression years saw mostly German families living here.  Among the residents in 1932, for instance, were the Waldstreichers, who operated a grocery store at 256 East 3rd Street, and Dr. Leo Rosenberg.

The third quarter of the 20th century started badly for 285 East Third Street.  When a two-alarm fire broke out in June 1972, The New York Times described it as being vacant.

But then, as early as 1984, I. Reed Books operated from the house.  And by the mid-1990s, Steven Cannon's "Gathering of the Tribes" was here.  It included the Tribes Gallery and space for emerging artists to network, trade ideas, and expose their works.

On January 5, 2001, in reporting on its latest exhibition, The New York Times journalist Holland Cotter described the Tribes Gallery, saying in part:

Tribe's latest offering has ambitions as big as the venue is small.  Organized by Christine Wang, it squeezes inself into three rooms, climbing up walls and spilling from shelves.  Three dozen or so international artists, several well known, jostle for attention.

On May 23, 2012, Stephen Rex Brown, writing in The New York Times, began an article saying, "Yesterday the founder of the art space at 285 East Third Street, Steve Cannon, was served with a formal '10-day notice of termination' for 'continued use of the premises as an office and art gallery, which is contracted to the lawful usage permitted by the certificate of occupancy for the building."

A year earlier, the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation had begun a push to have 285 and 287 East 3rd Street designated individual landmarks.  It cited the importance of No. 285 in Black History (because of its connection with Steve Cannon and the Gathering of the Tribes), and the significance of both buildings as being "highly intact Greek Revival" examples.

photograph by Carole Teller

The last two survivors of Charles Dodge's 1837 row, the pair has managed to escape the brutalization or demolition of similar relics in the East Village.  Neither has landmark protection at this writing.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The Schuchman Apartments - 126 East 12th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

Born in Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany in 1851, John P. Schuchman arrived in New York City in 1868.  He became an attorney and was highly active in the Lower East Side German community, known as Kleindeutschland.  He sat on the Tenement House Committee in the 1890s, which worked to improve the conditions of the working-class.  His involvement in the German community was greatly reflected on April 17, 1894 when he signed a 13-year renewable lease on 190 Third Avenue, known as Scheffel Hall.  In 1891 he was appointed a judge in City Court.

In 1900, Judge Schuchman purchased the two vintage houses at 126 and 128 East 12th Street between Third and Fourth Avenues.  On March 11, The New York Times reported that John G. Prague had filed plans for "a six-story brick and stone flat" on the site.  He pr0jected the construction cost at $60,000, or about $2.37 million in 2026.

The commission was unusual for Prague for several reasons.  The prolific builder-architect worked almost exclusively on the Upper West Side where he created more than 200 private rowhouses, and he most often worked for himself.

Prague was known for his ebullient decorative elements.  Interestingly, for The Schuchman he focused only on the first floor.  Above a short stone stoop, he blended brick and brownstone to create a stark contrast of sharp angles (created by the crisp quoins around the openings) and sensuous Romanesque carved ornaments.  The keystone of the foliate carved, concave-arched entranceway took the form of a female head from which swirling ornaments spread Medusa-like.  Unlike most Medieval inspired carvings of the Romanesque Revival style, Prague's boiled with movement.

The stone carver made the decorations come alive--seeming to spume from the portrait keystone.  The bases of the engaged columns are vibrant with flame-like movement.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

Prague was unexpectedly reserved in the mid- and upper sections.  Faced in yellow ironspot brick, their square-headed openings wore uninspired, flat brownstone lintels.  The top floor sat within molded cornices.

There were four apartments per floor in The Schuchman, which was described by the New York Herald as "a bachelor apartment house."  An advertisement described: "Five rooms and bath; hot water, elevator, steam heat."  

Among the first to move in was its owner, Justice John P. Schuchman.  Other residents were middle-class professionals--at least one doctor and several lawyers.  Another initial tenant was Willis H. Alling, who used his apartment as his studio.  He advertised, "teacher of piano and organ, interpretation in singing, Concert and Studio Accompanist."

Although patent attorney Jacob N. McIntyre was "a sufferer from paralysis," as worded by The New York Times, he continued working and had offices in the Temple Court Building.  He hired Signey C. Olesen as his nurse and housekeeper in 1895.  But when he moved into The Schuchman he dismissed her.  The unemployed woman was infuriated.

On January 3, 1901 McIntyre (who "uses an ear trumpet," according to the New-York Tribune) was arrested.  Signey C. Olesen accused him of stealing a $300 pair of diamond earrings from her.  She also charged, "that through the entire six years of her service, although she was to receive $20 a month, she received only about $50 in all from Mr. McIntyre."  

The two faced off in court on January 11.  Olesen asserted that the 65-year-old had given her the earrings "in lieu of salary."  McIntyre countered that, "he simply let her wear them once, and that he never gave them to her."  The case was dismissed because there was no hard evidence against McIntyre.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

At the time, 58-year-old Dr. David Cory shared a first-floor apartment with a man identified only as "a Mr. Ryan."  The physician suffered with alcoholism.  Were his patients to discover that their doctor had a drinking problem, Cory's career would be ruined.  On July 30, 1901, police found him "in a state of alcoholic coma" on Fourth Avenue at 14th Street.  He was taken to the Belleville Hospital alcoholic ward where he said his name was "John Correy" and his contact was "Mrs. Ryan," at 126 East 12th Street.  He was released the next day.

On August 19, Dr. Cory was found drunk and unconscious again.  Once again he was taken to Belleville Hospital, but this time he died "less than thirty minutes after he was admitted," as reported by the New York Herald.  A reporter visited his apartment at The Schuchman, but "Mr. Ryan was not at home," said the New York Herald.

Justice John P. Schuchman retired from the City Court on January 1, 1902.  Two years later, on the evening of September 28, 1904, he returned home and "met a man on his way out.  The man was carrying the hall carpet on his back," reported The Evening World.  When Schuchman asked Edward Conner what he was doing, he responded that he was merely "taking the floor covering out to dust it."

Using street slang that he no doubt picked up during court cases, Judge Schuchman said, "I think that you intend to dust with the carpet."  ("To dust" meant to hurry off or flee.)  Schuchman attempted to detain Connor, but he "fought vigorously."  The uproar attracted Policeman Kepko who arrested the would-be carpet thief.  In court Connor confessed, "If I'd knowed a judge lived in the house I'd have passed it by.  I suppose I'll have to do me bit now."  (To "do one's bit" was to serve a jail sentence.)

The young bachelor Charles R. Buffalow lived here as early as 1905.  On February 25, 1907, he gave himself a dinner "on the anniversary of his 22d birthday," as worded by The New York Age.  The article said his twelve guests "were entertained in a most charming manner."  The lifestyles of The Schuchman residents were reflected in Buffalow's menu that evening.  The article listed the "relish course" as including oysters, blue points on the half shell, sherry and salted almonds.  For the soup course there was green turtle soup, deviled crabs, fish, and white wine.  The entree included roast filet beef, mushrooms, petit pols pommes and champagne; and asparagus vinaigrette was the salad course.  The dessert course was "biscuit tortoni and dematasse [sic] cordials."

John Schuchman rented an apartment on January 9, 1908.  He had, apparently, not thoroughly vetted his new tenant.  Schuchman arrived home three nights later to find police in the building.  "What is all this excitement about?" he asked.  "I am John Schuchman, formerly Justice of the City Court.  I own this apartment house and live upstairs."

To his surprise, Police Captain Shaw responded, "I am raiding a poolroom.  These men are prisoners."  (A poolroom was an illegal gambling operation.)  The New York Herald said, "The ex-Justice said he found it hard to realize that such a thing as a poolroom had got into his house."  

Among the prisoners were Dan O'Rourke, alias Diamond Dan, and George Wilson, alias Chick Trigger, both well-known Bowery figures.  The New York Herald said the police "found racing sheets and other things connected with the ponies" in the apartment.  

On May 2, 1908, The New York Sun reported that around 7:30 the previous evening John P. Schuchman was driving a runabout (a light buggy) on Lenox avenue.  Suddenly, "his horse took fright at an automobile near 117th street and dashed into a trolley car."  The impact was significant.  The article said that the horse "hit the car squarely amidship and the Judge was thrown through the side window of the car."  Astoundingly, Schuchman was catapulted through the trolley car window.  "He landed in the aisle, knocking over in his flight Ethel Douglas, 7 years old."  The New York Times remarked, "Mr. Schuchman's entrance caused a panic among the passengers."

The little girl was not injured, however Schuchman was removed from the trolly unconscious.  Shaken up, he was treated for cuts on his head, face and hands on the site.  His horse, sadly, broke a foreleg and had to be shot.

Later that year, John P. Schuchman moved back to Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany.  He died there in 1914. 

This turbulent corner carving is alive with writhing leaves and vines.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The residents of The Schuchman continued to be professional.  Living here in 1914 was John B. Golden, a Democratic Assemblyman.  He sat on the assembly's committee of Codes and Public Education.

William Boland and his wife, Magdalen, lived here in the post-World War I years.  Born in 1843, Boland served in the Civil War.  In 1924, he was one of the last 300 surviving veterans of that war living in New York City.  During the city's Memorial Day parade on May 29 that year, "Those who had fought in the three wars within the generation's span shouldered guns again," said The New York Evening Post.

Despite his advanced age, William Boland marched with the Lloyd Aspinal Post.  In its extensive coverage of the military event, The New York Evening Post recounted a touching moment.  It said that when his unit reached the reviewing stand, "William Boland, eighty-one...looked searchingly around for a lavender hat.  The owner of that bonnet also was looking for him.  They spied each other at the same time."  The article continued:

Mrs. Magdalen Boland, her little hat bobbing clambered down from the stand as her husband stepped from the ranks.  They stood in front of the reviewing stand and kissed.  Then Boland ran to join his company.

By the Depression years, several of the tenants of 126 East 12th Street showed activist tendencies.  On September 28, 1935, two residents, 21-year-old William Castle and 22-year-old John Lamarr, were arrested as part of a mass demonstration.  The group, the National Students League, had been protesting a motion picture that, according to The New York Times, "shows a radical youth in an unfavorable light in comparison with a conservative American."

The 1936 Official Report of the Special Committee on Un-American Activities listed several residents of 126 East 12th Street as registered Communist Party members.

The arrest on March 6, 1937 by Federal agents of resident See Too, who operated a retail business, was shocking.  That afternoon, the freighter Taybank arrived in Brooklyn from Shanghai with crates consigned to See Too.  Customs officials "seized 600 tins of prepared smoking opium," reported The New York Times.  Agents said that the importance of the raid did not lay in the amount of the drug captured, "but in the fact that the raid had broken the link of a major smuggling ring with world-wide activities stretching from Shanghai to New York."

The New York Times reported, "The dark, chunky See Too sat in the outer room of headquarters of the special agents [and] at 5 o'clock last night he was still there, puffing on a long cigar, his face expressionless."

At around the time of See Too's arrest, the ground floor of 126 East 12th Street was given a coat of stucco.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A more drastic modernization came in the 1960s or 1970s when the intermediate and terminal cornices were removed.

The cornices were gone as early as 1980.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Happily, a restoration initiated in 2017 included the installation of approximate replicas of the cornices, the removal of the ground floor covering, and the cleaning and repairing the masonry.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

Sewing Women, Socialists and Theater - 85 East 4th Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

Developers sometimes lobbied the Board of Aldermen to rename a block or two upon which their new upscale homes sat.  Their goal was to create the sense of exclusivity.  In 1836, Longworth's American Almanack noted, "Part of Fourth [Street], between the Bowery and Avenue 2d, has the soubriquet of Albion-place."

Among the fashionable homes on the block was 411 Albion Place, aka 411 Fourth Street.  Erected around 1834, it was two-and-a-half stories tall above an English basement.  Clad in Flemish bond brick, its Federal design included a peaked roof punctured with two dormers.  (The address would be a moving target for letter carriers and visitors.  It was changed to 427 Fourth Street in 1850, and to 85 East 4th Street in 1864.)

Hanna Brown lived here as early as 1836.  Born in 1774, she was the widow of Adam Brown.  Hanna had moved here from 38 Rivington Street.  After living here alone with her servants several years, she began suffering what The Evening Post would call, "a lingering illness."  She died at the age of 65 on December 16, 1839.  Two days later, a one-line notice appeared in the Morning Herald:

The widow of the late Adam Brown, a highly respected and deeply lamented lady, will be buried today, from 411 Fourth street.

(The fact that only the Adam Brown's name, not Hanna's, was mentioned in her funeral notice would be highly surprising and offensive today.)

Four months later, on April 21, 1840, Hanna Brown's things were auctioned in what today we would call an estate sale.  Auctioneer E. H. Ludlow described, "splendid fashionable furniture," damask and silk window curtains, and bronze candelabras among the offerings.

The house next became home to the Graydon family.  Born in County Tyrone, Ireland around 1781, John Graydon ran a "tingood" business on Beaver Street.  He married Elizabeth Whitley around 1803 and the couple had nine children, at least five of whom lived with their parents.  John W. was an attorney; Joseph and Samuel ran a dry goods business on William Street, William was listed in directories as "merchant" at 61 Cedar Street, and Jane Graydon Sherrerd was the young widow of Archibald Sherrerd, who died in 1836, three years after their marriage.  The Graydon family's country home was in Ridgewood, New Jersery.

It was likely the Graydon's who replaced the Federal style doorway (which was now falling from fashion) with an up-to-the-minute Greek Revival example.  Engaged, fluted Doric columns upheld a substantial entablature and cornice.

The family received an unexpected package at the basement door on June 4, 1855.  The New York Times reported, "The practice of dropping babies has become almost a mania of late in the City.  Monday evening there was one found at No. 427 Fourth-street, and taken to the Almshouse."

It was likely the substantial Grayson population within the house that prompted its enlargement in 1857.  The attic was demolished and a third and fourth floor erected.  Construction was completed in 1858.  The alterations included a fashionable Italianate cornice.

John Graydon died in the Ridgewood house on January 29, 1864 at the age of 83.  His funeral was held in the Fourth Street house three days later.

In 1867, Hannah Hosier operated 85 East 4th Street as a boarding house.  Although well-to-do businessmen like John D. Billings, a lawyer, and piano maker Edington B. Decker, boarded here in 1867; Hannah seems to have catered to college students.  In 1869, six Columbia University students lived here.

Jane E. Carman took over the operation of the boarding house in 1871.  On May 18, the New-York Tribune reported, "The Boarding-House for Sewing Women has been removed from No. 262 East Broadway to No. 85 East Fourth-st."  The house doubled as the headquarters of the Young Woman's Aid Association.

On December 16, 1875, The New York Times reported that Michael Ryan had purchased the house for $14,000 (or about $424,000 in 2026).  He and his wife Agnes operated it as a boarding house and his tenants were highly varied.  Living here in 1879 were the Gantzberg family--Albert was a weaver, Bertha a nurse, and Julius a teacher--as well as Charles Laroche, who was an actor; physician Alexander Weldmann; and a tax collector and two clerks.

The Ryans sold 85 East 4th Street to Charles F. and Marie Kremer in February 1883 for $15,500.  They converted the basement level to the Second Avenue Club.  The Documents of the Senate of the State of New York described it in 1887 as a "club and coffee house."

Two years later, in March 1889, the Kremers leased the house to Paul Wilzig.  By then, the once refined neighborhood was Manhattan's center of the Socialist movement.  Within days of Wilzig's signing the lease, on March 30, 1889 the Record & Guide reported that he had commissioned architect H. W. Fabian to renovate the interiors at a cost equal to $180,000 today.  

The result was Wilzig's Hall, also known as Wilzig's Assembly Rooms.  It quickly became a favorite meeting space.  On June 23, 1891, for instance, The Evening Post reported, "The Convention of the International Machinists' Union of North America was continued this morning at Wilzig's Assembly Rooms."  And on August 31, the New-York Tribune reported, "A meeting of the new Socialist Central Union was held at No. 85 East Fourth-st. yesterday morning, and it was permanently organized under the name of the New-York City Federation of Labor."

The Kremers leased 85 East 4th Street to Robert L. Worm in July 1908.  He converted it to Casino Hall, while continuing to cater to labor and Socialist groups.  On July 30, 1909, the New-York Tribune reported, "A benefit concert and entertainment for the unemployed of this city will be given this evening in Casino Hall, No. 85 East 4th street, under the auspices of the International Brotherhood Welfare Association."

Labor disputes in the early 20th century often involved violence.  In 1910, the Cloakmakers' Union went on strike.  Rather than march in the picket lines, five workers went to Hunter, New York where they found employment.  It did not sit well with union bosses.  The New York Times reported, "When the information was received by the union, men were sent to Hunter to bring back the five members."

Herman Liberwitz was one of those workers.  When the train pulled into Grand Central Station, three of his comrades were able to escape.  Liberwitz and the other man were not so lucky.  They were brought to 85 East 4th Street and beaten by Morris Stupniker, described by the newspaper as a labor union "strong-arm man."  Herman Liberwitz was "beaten over the head with a club and died of a fractured skull the next day," reported The New York Times.  The other man was "badly beaten."

Terrified of "starkers," (the lingo for a union goon who enforced union rules, patrolled picket lines and dealt with strike breakers), workers refused to give any information to authorities.  It would be four years before detectives got enough evidence to arrest Stupniker and union vice-president Max Sigman for Liberwitz's murder in April 1914.  

A persistent Deputy Police Commissioner Frank Lord was not done.  A year later, on May 12, 1915, The New York Times reported that he "went out last night to arrest east side gangsters, who, it is alleged, have been hired to do 'strong arm work,' and even commit murder."  Indictments against 34 men, "eleven of whom were gangsters, and twenty-three labor union officials in the textile trade," had been returned. 

In the meantime, Casino Hall continued to be a popular meeting place.  On June 29, 1914, an obviously unsympathetic New-York Tribune reported, "A number of groups of anarchists and other radical people met yesterday at Casino Hall, 85 East Fourth st."

Later that year, The New York Times reported that the Anarcho-Syndicalist League of Greater New York had been formed here.  "The symbol of the new league is a representation of the pyramid and mailed-fist urn in which were placed the ashes of Caron, who was killed when a bomb exploded in his flat."

On August 4, 1921, the New York Herald reported that B. H. Cohen had leased 85 East 4th Street for 21 years.  The article said he "will remodel it into a catering building."  Cohen initially kept the name Casino Hall.  It also continued to cater to Socialist groups.

On December 16, 1922, for instance, The Daily Worker, published by the Community Party, reported on the "fifth evening of the big six-day Russian bazaar" in Casino Hall.  That night would include a concern by composer and pianist I. Arnstein.

By 1927, the name of the venue was Royal Hall.  On December 2, 1929, The New York Times reported, "The injection of communism into a mass meeting of nearly 300 subway construction workers precipitated a clash yesterday afternoon in Royal Hall."  The article said, "chairs and water classes were used as weapons as scores of workers belabored each other."  Although no arrests were made, there were "plenty of black eyes and bruised noses, and several men were cut by chair rungs."

Another name change came by the early 1930s.  On May 5, 1934, The Daily Worker reported on a "gala entertainment and party for the benefit of the victims of Austrian fascism, at Palm Casino, 85 East Fourth Street."  (Reportedly, the Palm Casino was, in fact, a speakeasy owned by Italian-born gangster Charles "Lucky" Luciano.)

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

After decades of catering to Socialist and labor groups, a portion of 85 East 4th Street became home to the United Ukrainian Organizations of the United States around 1939.  

The space that had seen raucous meetings and celebrations for decades became a theater at midcentury.  On May 7, 1955, The New York Times reported that actor Will Geer would sponsor a tribute to the late Vernon Rice "at the Folksay Theatre, 85 East Fourth Street."  The venue became the Downtown Theatre in 1956, and to the East End Theatre around 1960.

On January 16, 1965, the New York Amsterdam News reported that the American Theatre for Poets had leased the East End Theatre, saying it "plans to remodel the theatre, enlarging the stage, and installing special new lighting and sound systems."  Once again, the theater was renamed.  On August 21, the New York Amsterdam News reported that Arise, Arise premiered "at the newly named Cinematheque East Theatre."

In the meantime, the rest of the building was known as Ukrainian Hall, home to the American-Ukrainian Heritage Society and the East Side Forum.  Appearing in the Forum in September 1967, was editor-journalist James Aronson who spoke on "1968: New Politics and Revolution?"

Less political events, of course, were held here.  On May 3, 1973, The Daily World reported on the Spring Candlelight Dance held here, sponsored by the American-Ukrainian Heritage Society.  Around 1981, Ukrainian Hall was renamed Ukrainian Labor Home.

As a boy, Denis Woychuk was brought to the Ukrainian Labor Home by his father, who was looking for work.  Years later, in 1983 and after becoming an attorney, Woychuk bought the building.  He opened the Kraine Art Gallery here and converted the theater space to the Kraine Theater.

Around 1993, Woychuck opened the Kraine Gallery Bar, aka KGB.  It was followed by a black box theater on the third floor called The Red Room.  That space was remodeled in 2013 as a speakeasy-inspired performance venue.

Sharing the building in the 21st century are the New York Neo-Futurists which, according to The WNET Group's website, "create theater that is fusion of sport, poetry and living-newspaper;" a branch of the New York Comedy Club; and the long-lasting KGB Bar.

photograph by Carole Teller

Despite its many iterations and several unsympathetic alterations like the parlor-floor entrance, it is not difficult to imagine the house when the wealthy Graydon family occupied it a century-and-a-half ago.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

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