The 1914 Municipal Building - 1 Centre Street

 

photograph by Momos

As early as 1884, the city's government had outgrown the 1812 City Hall building.  Plans for a Municipal Building that would "contain the different departments that are now housed in rented quarters," as described by the Real Estate Record & Guide in October 25, 1890, were varied.  The article said that the Municipal Building Commission had considered sites on St. Mark's Place and East 6th Street, but had decided on City Hall Park, which was already owned by the city.  The New York Times explained that several structures, including City Hall, the Post Office and the Court House, would have to be demolished.

A vote in the State Senate on February 25, 1890 challenged the idea.  The New York Times reported that legislators balked at the loss of a public park.  They further argued, "The City Hall is architecturally and historically too valuable, and the Court House and the Post Office are too substantial and costly to be removed."  (The sensitivity to City Hall's architectural importance, or even its recognition, was highly unusual for the time.)

A year later, however, the plan looked promising.  On March 28, 1891, The New York Times reported that Mayor Hugh J. Grant was pushing hard for the plan.  The article explained:

He was fully aware of the fact that there was opposition to the scheme of tearing down the old City Hall, but so far as he had been able to determine this was the expression only of sentimentalism which should not be allowed to stand in the way of the city's progress.

Ready to fight the mayor, said the article, was the Architectural League of America, which "would condemn the proposition to tear down the old City Hall."

City Hall seemed doomed following a two-hour meeting in the private office of the new mayor, Thomas Gilroy, on March 28, 1893.  The Municipal Building Commission and the Advisory Committee of Architects agreed with Gilroy and his predecessor.  A site map was released showing the proposed $4 million structure sitting directly on top of the City Hall site, its northern wings engulfing the Court House.

The New York Times, March 29, 1883 (copyright expired)

A contest for the design of the Municipal Building was opened shortly after, with the deadline for submission at noon on September 1, 1893.  The 130 architects had toiled in vain, as it turned out.  The battle to save City Hall was far from over.

Andrew Haswell Green was well known to New Yorkers.  He had been highly involved in the development of open spaces including Central Park, Riverside Drive, and Morningside Park.  He wrote a lengthy, pleading open letter to the Parks Commissioners in February 1894.  It said in part:

The City Hall presents an example of fine architectural taste.  In design and construction it is faultless as any structure in the city, while its historical and biographical relations involve events of paramount interest and personages of dignity and estimation, and, as has been well said, "It stands to-day unsurpassed by any structure of its kind in the country."  It should continue to stand, as for nearly a century it has stood, ample, commodious, and convenient.

It would be more than a decade before a committee agreed to  find an alternative site for the Municipal Building, and to preserve the Court House and City Hall, and renovate the park.  Finally, on May 9, 1908, the Record & Guide published a rendering of the new building, designed by William M. Kendall of McKim, Mead & White.  The site, facing City Hall Park on the east side of Centre Street, had proved a challenge for him.

The article said, "The peculiar shape of the lot...at the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, made the architectural problem, as well as the problem of light and air an unusual one."  Also challenging was "the problem of construction over the subway without interfering with the passage of trains."  Kendall had chosen "the classic style" for the building, said the article, "following the accepted traditions of buildings of a civic character throughout the country from the earliest times down."

McKim, Mead & White released the above rendering on May 8, 1908.  Real Estate Record & Guide (copyright expired)

As construction progressed, on June 27, 1909 The New York Times began an article saying, "New Yorkers thrive on superlatives."  It reminded readers of the Municipal Building's unique elements: "a subway running through its basement, an elevated railroad on its second floor, with streets on every side of it, and one passing directly through it."  

On December 27, 1909, Mayor George B. McClellan, Jr. and Bridge Commissioner James W. Stevenson oversaw the laying of the four-ton, Maine granite cornerstone "of what is to be the largest, most elaborate, and most ornate municipal building of any city in the world," according to The New York Times.  The article said construction would be completed by January 1912 at a cost of "about $14,000,000."  (That figure would translate to nearly $500 million in 2026).

 Real Estate Record & Guide (copyright expired)

The article went on to describe Kendall's design, saying it would rise 25 floors to an eight-story tower.  "The general style is to be French Renaissance...The ornamental front of the building on Centre Street, with a long row of fifty-foot pillars, will be broken in the centre by an arched arcade through which Chambers Street will be run through the building."  Kendall strayed from the French Renaissance with that arcade, which was inspired by the ancient Arch of Constantine in Rome.

photograph by Jgrenaldy

Constructing a massive building adjacent to the subway was not only challenging, but dangerous.  On June 4, 1910, The New York Times reported that the east side of the excavation for the Municipal Building's foundation collapsed.  "A mountain of sand behind the shoring suddenly shifted and buried three workmen," said the article.  "Some of the timbers knocked over two others."  One of those workers, James McClellan, was buried to the neck and pinned by timbers.  The article explained, "further movements of the sand threatened to bury him completely."  Two priests, Father John Curry and Father Luke J. Evers, were lowered into the pit where they gave the last sacraments to McClellan.  Three hours later, fortunately, he was extricated and removed to a hospital.

Three months later, on September 3, a second cave in took place, this time on the western side.  It undid significant work.  The New York Times reported, "The sewer and water pipes along the line of the cave-in were torn away."  Happily, this time no workers were injured.

Within months after that setback, the building began taking shape.  On April 23, 1911, McKim, Mead & White announced that the tower of the structure was "designed in the modern classic style, and will be built of Maine granite of a light tone."  Not yet decided, according to The New York Times, was "a figure to top the tower."  The firm said "a number of figures are being considered."

Disaster struck again on June 28, 1911.  The New York Times reported, "The highest blaze ever fought by the Fire Department...was discovered early last evening on the twenty-fifth floor of the new Municipal Building, now in course of construction."  The stand pipes did not yet extend above the 21st floor.  The article said, "The firemen tried to extinguish the fire by throwing on sand, but the blaze was beyond their control."  The fire fighters were also endangered by the fact that the floors at that level were not yet floored over.  They "were compelled to walk in line and carry a lighted lantern," said the article.  Hoses were hauled up from the 21st floor stand pipe and eventually the fire was extinguished.

The next week, on July 3, the building was topped off.  "Just before stopping work last night," reported The Times, "several hundred iron workers on the new Municipal Building...unfurled a large American flag to show they had reached the highest point of the structure."

On May 8, 1913, Adolph A. Weinman's gilded statue, Civic Fame, was installed atop the tower.  Although the building was still under construction, the first tenants moved in seven months later.  

Not everyone was happy with Kendall's results.   On January 22, 1914, Mayor John Purroy Mitchel told a meeting of the Sinking Fund Commissioners, "The building was planned badly in its original conception and is largely a waste of space as now constructed."  The board's commissioner noted, "this undoubtedly can be attributed to the fact that the site was a bad one in the beginning."  The president of the Board of Aldermen added his thought.  "We have the building and we must make the best of it."

On January 22, 1914, the New-York Tribune wrote, "If the protests of city department heads are to be believed, the fine white Municipal Building is a fine white elephant; cost to date, some $15,000,000; and value for the original purpose, doubtful."  The article admitted, "The Municipal Building is good to look at."  But it added, should it not adequately fulfill the needs of the city departments, "Miss New York on the top of the tower may have cause to hide her face in her robes for shame at the waste."

A vintage postcard shows the Municipal Building as the highest structure in the district. (copyright expired)

Borough President Marcus M. Marks came to Kendall's and the building's defense.  The Evening World reported on February 23, 1924, "He pointed to the wonderful capacity of the building with its fourteen acres of net floor space, its thousand offices, supplying 5,000 employees with plenty of natural light, and figures that office space in the new structure will cost the city...$1.33 per square foot, as against an average price of $1.76 per square foot paid during the past two years for rented space."

original photograph from the author's collection

Another complaint was almost unbelievable.  On June 21, 1914, the New York Herald reported, "Don't believe anybody who tells you that it's an optical illusion which makes you think that Miss Civic Virtue, or whatever the official name of the bronze lady on the top of the Municipal Building tower is, has hiked her gilt skirts up hysterically during the past few days and is trying to stand even higher on her pedestal than heretofore."  

As construction began, two cats "fell into the excavation," said the New York Herald.  And then, "nature took its course."  By the time the building opened, "the cats in the building grew so numerous that something had to be done."  The newspaper said that the city had eliminated to date 63 feral felines.  The problem now, said the article, "mice frolic gayly" within the building.

photograph by Ken Lund

Despite the early denunciation of the structure, the Municipal Building (renamed the David N. Dinkins Manhattan Municipal Building on October 15, 2015) has become an architectural landmark of the lower Manhattan skyscape.  William M. Kendall's ability to conform his design to the awkward footprint, his striking entrance arcade, and the structure's soaring presence topped with Civic Fame is integral to the City Hall and Foley Square architectural neighborhood.

The Lost Harley Thomas Procter Mansion - 11 East 52nd Street

 

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In 1879, Harley Thomas Procter was inspired by a passage from Psalms 45:8, "All their garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces whereby they have made thee glad."  He personally redesigned the paper wrapper of his firm's P&G White Soap, and marketed it as "Ivory Soap."  A decade earlier, Procter had revamped Procter & Gamble's marketing scheme by running full-page, colored advertisements for its floating bars of soap, rather than current "calling card" advertising.  By the turn of the century, he had amassed a significant personal fortune.

Born in Cincinnati on December 1, 1847, Procter was the son of William Procter, co-founder of Procter & Gamble.  In 1870, he married Mary Elizabeth Sanford and the couple would have four children, Harley Sanford (who died in childhood), William, Lilian Sanford, and Rodney.

Harley Thomas Procter, from Advertising Hall of Fame

Procter retired "from active connections with the affairs," as described by The New York Times, of Procter & Gamble in 1895.  Five years later, he laid plans to move his family to Manhattan.  On the north side of East 52nd Street, between Fifth and Madison Avenues, were several private carriage houses.  On September 23, 1900, The New York Times reported he had purchased two of them, 13 and 15 East 52nd, for "the erection of a new house by Mr. Procter."  Designed by Don Barber, the sumptuous Beaux Arts mansion was completed in 1903.

As construction of that residence neared completion, on January 17, 1903 the Record & Guide reported that Procter had purchased the 25-foot-wide, two-story stable next door at 11 East 52nd Street from Elizabeth C. Oakman.  He paid $80,000 for the property, nearly $3 million in 2025 terms.  By erecting a first-class residence on the site, he could choose his next door neighbor.

The architectural firm of Trowbridge & Livingston designed a French Renaissance Revival mansion on the site.  The style had been increasingly popular after C. P. H. Gilbert created French Renaissance chateaux like the Fletcher mansion at 2 East 79th Street and the Edward Converse residence at 3 East 78th Street.  Six stories tall, its lower three floors were understated.  The decoration of the sedate, planar limestone facade relied on delicate carving around the arched entrance and above the grouped windows of the second floor.  The mood changed at the top three levels.  Introduced by an open-work, full-width stone balcony, the openings at this level wore elaborate crocketed pediments.  They were flanked by engaged colonettes that sat upon carved faces.  The top two floors took the form of a steep, slate-shingled mansard.

The Procter's only daughter, Lilian, had married Fritz Wilhelm Hoeninghaus in 1901.  By the time William married Emily Pearson Bodstein on February 3, 1910 in Grace Church, the family was living in 11 East 52nd Street.  Getting the timeline slightly wrong, on May 23, 1912, the New York Herald explained, "Mr. Proctor seemed to lose interest in the house [i.e., 15 East 52nd], placed it on the market for sale and built a smaller residence at No. 11 East Fifty-second street."

Rodney Procter was married to Beatrice M. Sterling in Grace Church on January 17, 1912.  Harley and Mary Procter, now empty-nesters, rarely appeared in the society columns.  They spent their summers at Shadowbrook, their "famous garden estate," as described by American Gardening, in Lenox.

For decades, Procter had suffered with diabetes.  On May 16, 1920, The New York Times reported, "Harley T. Procter, who for many years carried on the business of Procter & Gamble, manufacturers of Ivory Soap, died early yesterday morning of diabetes at his home, 11 East Fifty-second Street."  He was 73 years old.  Procter left an estate of $3.6 million, according to The American Perfumer.  The figure would translate to about $42.5 million today.

Mary remained in the mansion for two years.  Then, on November 18, 1922, the New-York Tribune reported that the Procter estate sold the property for $225,000 (about $4.2 million today).  By then, the neighborhood, once home to millionaires like the Vanderbilts and Goulds, was commercial.

Before the end of the year, the mansion was renovated for business purposes.  Architects George and Edward Blum converted the first through fifth floors to showrooms, and the attic (now called the penthouse) to an apartment.

Arnold Seligmann and Emile Rey installed their art and antiques gallery, Arnold Seligmann, Rey & Co., in the lower floors.  Emile Rey was born in Mulhouse, France and established himself as an expert in Gothic ivory carvings and Italian Renaissance period bronzes.  Among his clients upon his arriving in America were J. Pierpont Morgan and Thomas Fortune Ryan.  Arnold Seligmann first opened an art gallery in Paris in 1879 with his brother, Jacques.

The Art News, October 31, 1924 (copyright expired)

The gallery remained here at least until the 1940s.  By 1952, American Listings, Inc., a real estate office that handled upscale homes and country estates, operated from an upper floor.  The Austrian State Tourist Department occupied offices here on January 3, 1958 when the Buffalo Courier Express advised that the "detailed program of the Salzburg Festival" was available here.

Blum & Blum's renovations little affected the exterior appearance.  from the Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1965, the Government of Austria purchased the property and converted it to the Austrian Cultural Center and the residence of the Austrian Consulate General.  Three decades later, on February 21, 1993, Christopher Gray announced in The New York Times, "The Austrian Cultural Center is proceeding with permit applications for its new headquarters, a futuristic 20-story building at 11 East 52nd Street designed by Raimund Abraham, an Austrian architect."

Although Gray asserted that the former Procter mansion, "is attractive, but not really a candidate for landmark designation," he lamented, "its demolition signals a change more important than the loss of any individual building: one by one, the last vestiges of Midtown East's character as a neighborhood of mansions and town houses is being lost."

photograph by Madnessofarts

The new building was completed in 2002.

Charles T. Mott's 1887 258 West 73rd Street

 

William J. Merritt headed the real estate development firm William J. Merritt & Co. and often acted as his own architect.  But for the ambitious row of 19 four-story-and-basement houses he planned on the south side of West 73rd Street between Broadway and West End Avenue in 1887, he hired architect Charles T. Mott.

Completed in 1887, the row was a romantic take on French Renaissance architecture.  Nestled among the streetscape of turrets and battlements was 258 West 73rd.  A broad stoop with solid wing walls originally led to the brownstone-faced parlor level.  The third and fourth floors, clad in rough faced brick, were dominated by a charming angled bay, the balcony of which was crowned with a stone railing with pierced quatrefoil openings.  The fourth floor took the form of a tiled mansard, fronted by two dormers with elaborate French Renaissance crockets (still intact at the house's former twin at 250 West 73rd Street).

For some reason, the house sat vacant for two years.  On November 7, 1889, an advertisement in the New York World noted it was the only house for sale on West 73rd Street.  It was described as an "elegant 4-story house, 20 x 100; dining-room extension, new, never occupied; opposite Mayor Grant's."  (Hugh Grant was the city's youngest mayor, elected at the age of 30 in 1888.)

Robert A. Hollister purchased the house for $40,000 (about $1.37 million in 2025), apparently as an investment.  Living here in 1891 was the family of R. J. McCabe.

Early in March that year, Mrs. McCabe hired a 40-year-old English woman, Kate Mary Trigg, as a chambermaid and waitress.  (A waitress in 19th century homes served in the parlor and dining room.)  The 40-year-old had been living at the Young Woman's Christian Home on East 15th Street.  

Kate Mary Trigg often complained of severe headaches.  Just two weeks after taking the job, on the morning of March 27, she "packed up her effects and left the house, telling her employer that she was going away for good," as reported by The Evening World.  That night, reported the newspaper, a "well-dressed woman...attempted to commit suicide by throwing herself into a small creek in the Salt Meadows near Newark Bay Bridge."  Luckily, Trigg was seen by three employees of the Jersey Central Railroad who rescued her.  The article said, "Her mind is believed to be affected."

The following year, D. Laurence Shaw and his wife, the former Agnes Moen, purchased the house.  Shaw was a wholesale dealer in spices and baking powders at 62 College Place (today's West Broadway).  He also owned a "summer hotel" in Lakeville, Connecticut.  He and Agnes had a newborn son, D. Laurence, Jr. when they moved in.  

Anges immediately began staffing the house and on March 4, 1892 advertised, "Waitress Wanted--Swede or German preferred; must be competent.  Call, before 1 P.M. at 258 West 73d St."

Tragically, a month later, on April 18, the couple's baby boy died.  His funeral was held in the house on April 21.

The couple's problems continued when D. Laurence Shaw was forced to declare bankruptcy on July 20, 1894.  The New York Times noted, "Papers were also filed yesterday against Mr. Shaw to foreclose a mortgage of $5,000 on his house, 258 West Seventy-third Street."  It was auctioned on December 24 that year.  Foreclosure sales usually resulted in deals, but property on the West 73rd Street block was in high demand.  The New York Times remarked, "the bidding was quite brisk and the purchaser had to pay $35,000 for the house, very near its real value."

The buyer was W. L. McCorkel.  Living with him and his wife was their adult son, Henry H., who was a commissioner of deeds.  Their residency would be short-lived.  McCorkle sold the house to William C. Adams on October 21, 1897.  Adams was the president of the S. F. Adams Realty Co. and of W. C. Adams & Co.

Just before 6:00 on the morning of December 20, 1898, fire broke out in the house of Charles H. Raymond next door at 260 West 73rd Street.  The blaze swept through the house, trapping the occupants, several of whom jumped from upper floor windows.  One of them was Mrs. Raymond's sister, visiting from Ohio for Christmas.  She plunged to the sidewalk, fatally fracturing her skull.  The body of Harriet Fee, the cook, was found on the third floor.  Four people, including the Raymonds, were taken to the hospital seriously injured.  

The fire had been discovered in the pantry by a chambermaid named Mularkey.  She notified Harriet Fee who rushed upstairs to awaken the others in the house, while Mularkey ran into the street to get help.  "The maid ran up and down the street, shrieking, and several neighbors, hearing her, ran out," reported the New York Evening Post.  As the drama played out next door, the hysterical woman, suffering from shock, was taken into the Adams house.

The Adams family remained here until 1907, when they sold 258 West 73rd Street to Julia A. and Albert L. House.  Albert was a stockbroker.  The couple hired architect Frank Hausle in December that year to install a new bathroom.

The couple's affluence was reflected in a notice in The New York Times on August 22, 1909.  "Lost--A lady's Tiffany watch, diamond and pearl studded; owner's name inside; please return to Mrs. A. L. House, 258 West 73d St.; suitable reward."

Living with the Houses in 1910 was Isabelle Evesson.  She and her sister, Estelle, were partners in the Bassford Estate Corporation, formed to recover compensation for their grandfather's massive real estate holdings.  On April 25, 1907, the Montana Standard said, "these two Evesson sisters, year in and year out, are making their fight for untold millions."

Isabelle Evesson, The Players Blue Book, 1901 (copyright expired)

While they litigated the estate, the sisters performed on stage.  Isabelle had appeared in the original cast of the 1887 Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with Richard Mansfield; and among her other Broadway appearances were Papa's Wife in 1899-1900 and Anna Karenina in 1905.

The Houses had an esteemed houseguest in 1910.  On January 15, The Mining World commented, "Lazard Cahn of Colorado Springs, Colo., dealer in mineral specimens, will be at 258 West 73d street, New York city, for the next few months."  A well-known chemist and geologist, Cahn first identified the mineral Cahnite, named for him.  

Lazard Cahn in his laboratory around 1930.  from the collection of the Pikes peak Library District

Shortly before noon on May 8, 1914, Albert L. House stepped off a southbound Fourth Avenue streetcar at 19th Street.  The New York Times reported, "as Mr. House got off the car he stepped in front of the oncoming truck and was knocked down and kicked by the horses."  House was taken to the New York Hospital where he died later that night.

Julia House sold 258 West 73rd Street around 1918.  It was converted to bachelor apartments (meaning they had no kitchens) the following year.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to below grade.  The two ornate dormers were replaced by a tall shed dormer.  The Department of Buildings noted, "not more than 15 rooms to be used for sleeping purposes."  An advertisement for one apartment described, "Handsomely furnished, two rooms and bath apartment; all conveniences; direct private telephone; summer porch."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Among the tenants in 1923 was David Arnof.  That year he became involved in a mystery surrounding his brother, Jacob, who had gone to South America early in 1920 with a friend, Harry Wolfe.  Jacob had obtained a job as a clerk with the Buenos Aires office of the United States Shipping Board.  Letters from Jacob came regularly until the end of 1920, then they stopped for about three months.  On November 26, 1923, The Oshkosh Northwestern said, "When letters began arriving again, members of the family said the handwriting had changed entirely and no mention was made of intimate family affairs."

Early in 1921, Jacob drew a draft on his father's account for $500 (about $8,500 today).  In 1922, he drew another $250, and on August 6, 1923 he cabled his father for $25,000, saying "the family would be disgraced if it was not sent."  In addition to his desperate demands for money, the family's suspicions were heightened by "strange phrases" in Jacob's letters, his failure to mention his five siblings, and by photographs that only slightly resembled him.

Jacob Arnof was accused of defrauding his employer of 400,000 pesos in November 1923.  Shortly afterward, he committed suicide.  But a note found with the body was signed by Harry Wolfe.  It said he "wanted to clear the name of his friend."  According to the note, Jacob Arnof had drowned on November 7, 1920 while the two friends were canoeing.  Wolfe took over his identity for three years, using his passport and possessions.  During that time he embezzled from the United States Shipping Board, and deceived Arnof's family into supplying him with cash.

On December 27, 1923, the Republic City News reported, "Whether the body of the suicide is that of Arnof or of 'Harry Wolfe' will not be definitely established until David Arnof of New York...arrives in Buenos Aires."  In South America, David Arnof discovered the extent to which Wolfe had gone to carry out the deception.  The two friends resembled one another, but Jacob Arnof had a scar on his face.  On January 19, 1924, the Adelaide, Australia newspaper the Saturday Journal revealed that Wolfe "burned on his cheek with acid a scar similar to Arnof's scar."

A bit beleaguered today, there are nine rental units within the building.  In addition to the 1919 remodeling, an obtrusive drain pipe that snakes down the facade and protruding window air conditioners disguise the fact that it was once the home of wealthy families.

photographs by the author

The Joseph J. O'Donohue, Jr. House - 262 West 73rd Street

 

In the 1880s, the Upper West Side experienced a flurry of construction as developers erected long rows of brick and brownstone rowhouses.  Among them was William J. Merritt, the principal in Merritt & Co.  He would be responsible for scores of residences in the area, designing many of them himself.  In 1888 alone, Merritt & Co. advertised 38 new houses, including both sides of the block of 73rd Street between West End Avenue and Broadway.

The four-story houses on the southern side, from 246 to 272 West 73rd Street, were not designed by Merritt.  A year earlier, he commissioned prolific architect Charles T. Mott, with whom he often worked, for the project.  The outcome was striking.  Mott drew inspiration from the French Renaissance, particularly, according to architectural historian Andrew S. Dolkart, the medieval castle Pierrefonds.

The romantic row evokes images of damsels and knights.

The picturesque assemblage of dormers and towers, oriels and mansards created a romantic streetscape.  Among the row was 262 West 73rd Street.  Its basement and parlor levels were faced in brownstone.  The brick-clad upper floors were almost completely consumed by a rounded bay, girded above the third floor by a complex, copper balustrade.  The fourth floor was capped with a conical tiled roof.

The house became home to William Stevens Louderback and his wife, the former Emma Beekman.  The family moved in just in time for a triple celebration.  On November 13, 1888, The New York Times reported, "Mr. and Mrs. W. Stevens Louderback celebrated their silver wedding last evening at their new residence, 262 West Seventy-third-street."  The New-York Tribune noted, "The anniversary was of three-fold interest, as it was as well the occasion of their daughter's introduction to society, and a housewarming.  Miss Etta Louderback assisted her mother to receive."

The triple entertainment was a sparkling opening of the new residence.  "Several hundred guests were present," said The New York Times.  Among the high society figures present was millionaire heiress Helen Gould.

The Loudebacks' residency would be short.  In August 1891, Joseph J. O'Donohue, Jr. and his wife, the former Marie Louise Bruner, purchased the house.  The couple was married on October 27, 1887 and had two sons, Joseph, 3d, who was three years old, and Henry, who was a newborn.  Two daughters would be born in the house--Marie in 1896, and Ethel in 1901.  The family's summer home was in Elberon, New Jersey.

O'Donohue's father was well known to New Yorkers.  A millionaire grocery dealer, he had been a member of Tammany Hall since 1856.  Joseph, Jr.'s business interests were wide-flung.  He was president of the Brooklyn and North Ferry Company, president of the Agatine Shoe Hook and Eyelet Company, vice-president of the General Realty and Mortgage Company, and a director in two railroads, an insurance company and other corporations.

The family was deeply religious and Marie involved herself with Catholic charities.  She was, for instance, president of the Ladies of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul.

The O'Donohues received unexpected house guests early in the morning of February 4.  The New York Times began an article saying, "The families occupying the handsome row of dwellings in Seventy-third Street, between West End Avenue and the Boulevard [i.e., Broadway] were aroused between 12 and 1 o'clock this morning by a fire which was caused by an overheated furnace in the basement of George Crawford's home, 272 West Seventy-third Street."

The family escaped into the cold night in their bedclothes.  While firefighters battled the blaze, which luckily did not extend above the basement level, The New York Times reported, "The Crawford family went to the home of Joseph J. O'Donohue at 262 West Seventy-third Street for the night."

Interestingly, O'Donohue's uncle, James O'Donohue, lived with the family by the turn of the century.  (This despite the fact that his son, Louis V. O'Donohue was a well-to-do manufacturer and banker.)  Born in 1830, James was at one time City Chamberlain and was a member of the coffee firm John O'Donohue's Sons before his retirement.  He died here at the age of 71 on December 12, 1901.

By 1911, Henry was enrolled at Princeton University and Joseph, Jr. was associated with his father in business.  On May 27 that year, Joseph was married to Rose Mildred Taylor in the Church of the Blessed Sacrament on West 71st Street.  

When The Sun reported on the Monmouth County Horse Show on July 29, 1915, it mentioned that Joseph J. O'Dohonue, Jr. was first vice-president of the association.  It also noted that his parents were among the viewers "in the boxes and on the lawn."  No mention of Rose Taylor O'Donohue was made.  That was because, as reported by The Evening World four months later, since April she had "been living in Reno in luxurious apartments."

Joseph, Jr. was now back in the West 73rd Street with his parents.  On October 16, 1915, The Evening World reported that Rose Mildred Taylor O'Donohue, "prominent in New York and Washington society," had been granted a divorce.  She charged her 27-year-old husband with "desertion and non-support."  The article said O'Donohue was said to be out of the city and "his father would say nothing about the case."

Joseph, Jr. was granted duel custody of the couple's son, Joseph J. O'Donohue, 4th.  He would live in the 73rd Street house six months of the year.

Ethel Louise was the first of the O'Donohue daughters to marry.  On May 30, 1920, The Sun reported that her wedding to Alwyn Ball 3d had taken place in the Louis XVI suite of the St. Regis Hotel.   "Miss O'Dohonue was once identified with the summer life in Elberon, N. J., where her parents had a villa, but for three summers they have had a place in Greenwich, Conn.," said the article.

The following year, on October 9, the O'Donohues announced Marie Gladys's engagement to C. R. Coster Steers.  The couple was married on November 7, 1922.

Joseph and Marie hosted a dinner party on December 20, 1925.  Among the monied guests was Thomas M. McCarthy, the treasurer of the wholesale grocery firm Austin Nichols & Co.  The Christmas week party ended tragically when, after dinner, the 74-year-old McCarthy suddenly became ill.  The New York Times reported he, "died a few minutes later, presumably from heart disease or acute indigestion."

As with all well-to-do New Yorkers, the society columnists followed Joseph and Marie O'Donohue's movements.  In July 1927, The Sun reported, "in June [they] will go to Bretton Woods for the Summer," and the following year, in July, the newspaper said that they would be taking Joseph J. O'Dohonue, 4th along with them "to the Apawamis Club at Rye for part of the summer."

Marie Bruner O'Donohue died on December 29, 1928.  Joseph remained in the house and it appears that his grandson was living with him full time by now.  On February 1, 1930, the Rye Chronicle reported, "Mr. Joseph J. O'Donohue, well known member of the Apawamis Club, gave a dinner Tuesday evening at his home 262 West Seventy-third Street to celebrate the birthday of his grandson, Joseph J. O'Donohue 4th.  Following the dinner Mr. O'Donohue took his guests to the theatre."

In 1941, the tile roof was intact.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

After living here for 44 years, O'Donohue sold 262 West 73rd Street in 1935.  (He died two years later.)  Architect Frederick S. Keeler was hired by the new owners to convert the house to furnished rooms.

It was purchased by architect Henry J. Gazon in January 1954.  It continued to be a rooming house until a renovation completed in 2012 resulted in ten apartments.

While little survives of Charles T. Mott's interiors, outwardly the picturesque house is greatly intact.

photographs by the author