The 1844 Cornelius G. Vanriper House - 28 Jones Street

 

In 1843, construction of a row of Greek Revival-style homes along Jones Street near Bleecker Street was commenced.  Although essentially identical, each of the brick-faced homes, completed in 1844, was erected by different owners.  Among them was 28 Jones Street.  Dorothy Peterson spent $3,700 for the project, including the land, or about $156,000 in 2025.

Like its neighbors, it was three stories tall above a brownstone English basement.  The upper floors were faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  The single-doored entrance featured paneled pilasters, sidelights, and an ample transom above a denticulated cornice.

Peterson leased the residence to Cornelius Gerrrit Vanriper (sometimes spelled Van Riper).  His wife, the former Caterina B. Demerest, was active in charity work and was a manager of the newly formed Ladies Benevolent Society, which was organized in the winter of 1843, just before the family moved into 28 Jones Street.  Cornelius and Caterina had four children.  As late as 1850, at least one of them, Anthony, still lived with his parents.  He made his living as a carpenter.

The following year, the Vanripers moved nearby to 12 Jones Street and 28 Jones became home to John A. Berdan, a "casemaker," or furniture builder.  As was common, in the rear yard was a small house.  Along with the Berdans, three tenants were listed here.  Benjamin C. Knapp ran a fancygoods store on Bleecker Street, Joseph B. Harriot was in the flour business on Charles Street, and the Mills family likely occupied the rear house.

Little George Mills attended the Ninth Ward School on Greenwich Street.  On the morning of November 22, 1851, the primary department teacher, Miss Harrison, "was suddenly seized with a paralysis of the tongue," reported The Evening Post.  (Today we would recognize the symptoms as that of a stroke.)  Thinking that she needed a glass of water, one of the students ran into the hallway calling, "Water!"  Pupils in other classrooms assumed a fire had broken out, and panic ensued.  Screaming "Fire! Fire!" the students stampeded into the halls and onto the stairway.

The staircase, unable to handle the weight of the throng of children, collapsed.  The New York Times reported that scores of children plummeted to the stone floor.  "In this way, the area was instantly filled, and there they lay, one upon another, to the depth of ten or twelve feet."  The Evening Post reported that 49 children were killed and many more severely injured.  Among the dead was George Mills.

In 1855, Dorothy Peterson sold 28 Jones Street to Richard J. Yereance, a builder-carpenter.  He married Charity E. Mabie on July 20, 1834 and the couple had one daughter, Catharine Louisa Edsall, born in 1838.  By 1860, Catharine was teaching at the Ninth Street Church School on West 4th Street.

Catharine's days of teaching ended in 1863, when she married Everardus Warner on November 4.  The newlyweds remained in the Jones Street house.  Warner was a partner with Abraham Warner, presumably a brother, in a stationery business.  

On September 5, 1865, Charity E. Yereance died at the age of 59.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on the 7th.  Richard moved to Charlton Street, where he died two years later.

Catherine's parents had transferred the title of the Jones Street property to her in 1862.  At the time of Richard's death, the Warners had a one-year-old baby girl, Ida Louisa.  In 1867, Abraham Warner moved in with the family (possibly into the rear house).   The following year, another baby, Everadrus B., was born, and in 1871 Edgar E. arrived.

By the time of Edgar's birth, his father had changed course, now listing his profession as "gas."  On December 21, 1875, Everardus added to his resume by enlisting in the 71st Regiment of Infantry.  (He would change his job again in the 1880s, becoming an undertaker.)

A disturbing incident occurred on November 12, 1877.  Mrs. Alfred Van Buren, described by the New York Herald as "a very attractive looking lady," visited the Warners.  She and her husband lived on East 126th Street in Harlem.  She left that evening and, said the newspaper two days later, "since then has not been heard from.  She was of sane mind and lived happily with her husband, who is anxious for her safety."  

Three weeks later, on December 6, The Morning Democrat reported, "Mrs. Alfred Van Buren...started on Jones street on the 12th of November, to take a Third avenue car for her home.  She was suffering from neuralgia and the Lord only knows what [has] become of her."  The story was circulated as far away as Iowa, but the missing woman was never found.

The Warners sold 28 Jones Street in 1887 to Edward and Annie Bachmann.  Edward was a piano manufacturer.  The couple rented the second floor to George Gross and his wife.  Living with them were their two unmarried daughters.  The New-York Tribune described Gross as "a German truckman," and The Evening World said he did, "a good business as a carman, owning half a dozen horses and as many trucks."  

Unfortunately, the 54-year-old suffered a stroke in 1888.  The New-York Tribune said it, "ruined his health, and his business did not pay."  One-by-one, Gross liquidated his assets, selling his last horse in January 1889.  The following month, on February 3, Gross suffered another stroke.  One of the daughters, Lizzie, who was visiting friends in Irvington, New Jersey, was sent for.  She arrived home on the evening of February 6.  The Evening World said, "the father appeared very glad to see her.  He talked a great deal about his ruined business, but was finally persuaded to retire."

The following morning, Gross arose at 6:00 and had breakfast, "but acted as if he was out of his mind," reported The Evening World.  He rested on the sofa for an hour, then went to his room.  Shortly after 8:00, while the women were in the kitchen, Lizzie heard a gunshot.  They women ran to the bedroom to find Gross dead.  The Evening World remarked frankly, "Mr. Gross was undoubtedly insane."

The Bachmanns continued to rent space in their home.  An advertisement in The Sun on January 29, 1893, read, "Third floor, 3 rooms, with improvements; private house.  28 Jones st."  

In 1905, the couple sold 28 Jones Street to the Cooperative Social Settlement Society of the City of New York.  The group was founded in the house next door at 26 Jones Street by Mary Kingsbury Simkhovitch and opened on Thanksgiving Day 1902 as Greenwich House.

The rear yard of 28 Jones Street was called "The Farm."  The Commons, March 1905 (copyright expired)

Dr. William H. Tolman, in his 1903 The Better New York, explained that the Greenwich House works, "on a different basis from that ordinarily adopted by social settlements.  It believes that the neighborhood about a settlement should be represented on the board of managers, and also believes in the co-responsibility of residents, workers and non-residents."

In October 1906, the Commissioners of the Sinking Fund authorized the city to lease the parlor floor of 28 Jones Street for school purposes.  The rent was $450 per year.  Run by Greenwich House staff, Greenwich Handicraft School had 80 pupils by 1908.  The American Art Directory explained that year, "Its object is to train women and girls in lace-making, weaving, and allied crafts, and to foster in its neighborhood an appreciation of the beautiful."

In 1917, Greenwich House moved into its new building at 27 Barrow Street.  The Cooperative Settlement Society leased apartments in the house, among the earliest tenants being Charles Bates Sticker, an electrical engineer with Wright-Martin Aircraft Corp. on Long Island.  In 1919, Anna Cook lived here.  That year the Mount Holyoke Alumnae Quarterly reported that she "has a position at Hickson's in New York, finishing garments, as a stepping-stone to designing."

Essentially nothing has changed to 28 Jones Street since this photograph was taken in 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1921, 26 and 28 Jones Street were incorporated as Greenwich House Co-operative Apartments, Inc.  Living at 28 Jones Street in 1922 were Katharine Fowler Pettit, an alumna of Bryn Mawr College, and her husband, Walter William Pettit.  Around that time, Arthur Piper and his wife, the former Augusta Louise Coleman moved in.  He was the managing editor of The Survey, a semi-monthly periodical, and treasurer of Survey Graphic, a monthly.

At mid-century, attorney James H. Black and his wife lived here.  And as early as 1982, playwright and author Tony Buttitta was a resident.  Born in 1907 in Louisiana, Buttitta first published plays in the 1920s.  He co-founded the literary magazine Contempo in 1931.  Through that position, he became acquainted with writers like George Bernard Shaw, William Faulkner, Ezra Pound and Sherwood Anderson.  Among the works he published while living here, are the 1982 Uncle Sam Presents: A Memoir of the Federal Theatre, 1935-39; and The Lost Summer: A Memoir of F. Scott Fitzgerald, in 1987.

Little has changed externally to the house after more than 180 years.  Today there are four units in the building.

photographs by the author

The 1844 Stephen and Jane Webster House - 30 Jones Street

 

In 1794, Dr. Gardiner Jones laid out a short lane in Greenwich Village and gave the block-long road his own name--Jones Street.  Half a century later, in 1843, John Moore purchased the property at 30 Jones Street upon which one of a stylish row of Greek Revival houses was being constructed.  The house was completed in 1844.  Its three stories of red brick sat above a brownstone basement.  Typical of the style, the house was trimmed in brownstone and capped with an understated cornice.

Moore apparently purchased the house as an investment and never lived here.  It was operated as a boarding house in 1845, home to blue collar tenants.  Living in the smaller house in the rear yard were Elizabeth Simons, a widow, and Philip P. Ruger, a carman (a driver of a delivery vehicle).  Living in the main house were another carman, Joshua Barton; James Hull, who listed his profession as "gas;" and Marvin Rowland and Jacob B. Skaats, a carpenter and cooper, respectively.

John Moore sold the property in 1848 to William Waring.  The Waring family's residency was short lived.  In 1851, Stephen and Jane Webster purchased 30 Jones Street.  The couple had a son, Samuel A. who worked as a clerk in 1853.  Stephen was a wholesale grocer in the Erie Building.  That structure, erected in 1848 by the Erie Railway, filled a block on the Hudson riverfront.

Stephen Webster operated his wholesale grocery business from the Erie Building.  from Between the Ocean and the Lakes by Edward Harold Mott, 1899 (copyright expired)

It was common at the time for families who had extra space to take in boarders.  In June 1856, the Webster family advertised, "A suite of furnished rooms on second floor to let, with board; gas in the rooms.  Also, two furnished rooms, for single gentlemen, with full or partial board.  Convenient to stages and cars."  (Most families avoided taking in single women in order to preserve their respectability.)

The Websters moved to Bleecker Street in 1862, selling 30 Jones Street to John McLachlan.  Four years later, on March 8, 1866, an advertisement read, "For Sale--The three story and basement high stoop brick House, 30 Jones street; house 21x45...modern improvements and wash house on rear end of lot."  

It was purchased by David and Ellen R. Smith.  Smith was a speculator in railroad stock.  The couple welcomed a baby daughter, Mary Ella, on September 14, 1867.  Tragically, the toddler died on February 27, 1870, at two-and-a-half years old.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on March 1.

David Smith was inadvertently pulled into a murder case that kept newspaper readers nationwide rapt in 1872.  At around 3:40 on the afternoon of January 6, Smith was sitting at a restaurant, Chamberlain & Dodge, when millionaire oil and railroad man Edward S. Stokes approached.  Smith later testified, "He came up and shook hands with me, and asked me to take a drink.  We walked up to the bar, and he then began to speak of this horse race."  The two made small talk and then parted ways.  

Stokes walked to the nearby Grand Central Hotel and fatally shot his business partner and nemesis in a love triangle, Jim Fisk.  Although Smith's interaction with Stokes was one of the last before the murder, he was unable to supply valuable testimony to either the defense or prosecution.

The Smiths sold 30 Jones Street in 1875.  It was resold in March 1881 to Frederick M. and Julia Schmidt.  Frederick was born in 1847.  The couple paid $9,000 for the property, about $277,000 in 2025.  The Schmidts had two daughters.

By 1894, the house in the rear yard had been replaced by a single-story structure, which the Schmidts used for storage of "pictures and household goods," according to the The Evening World.  The newspaper described it as "separated from the house by a small courtyard."   

At around 10:00 on the morning of April 14, 1894, Frederick noticed smoke coming from a window in the storeroom.  The Evening World reported, "He rushed into the courtyard and broke open the door.  At a glance he saw that the fire was climbing up the wall on one side of the building."  Schmidt tried to smother the flames with a blanket, but the fire had grown too large.  His clothing caught fire and "when his wife reached his side, attracted by his cries, he was a mass of flames."

By the time Julia dragged Frederick onto the lawn, their daughters, one 19 and the other 22 years old, had arrived.  The article said, "The three women succeeded in tearing the burning clothes from Schmidt, but not before his body, face and hands had been frightfully burned."  The daughters suffered burns to their hands.

Neighbors, attracted by the commotion, helped carry Frederick into the house.  In the meantime, despite the neighbors protests, Julia insisted on re-entering the burning building to salvage "a valuable picture."  When the fire fighters arrived, she was still there.  The Evening World reported, "Partially overcome by smoke, she was carried out of the place.  Her hands and hair were scorched."  The fire fighters opined, "that rats gnawed matches that were in the building and thus caused the fire."

On October 23, 1906, Julia Schmidt died.  Her funeral was held in the house on October 25.  One year later, on October 15, 1907, Frederick Schmidt sold 30 Jones Street to Stefano and Adelaide Rolandelli.  By 1911, the couple was leasing the house to Greenwich House, which also operated at 26 Jones Street.

Greenwich House was founded in November 1902, "for the establishment and maintenance of a social settlement [for] social, educational, and civic improvements, to be carried on in conjunction and association with the people residing in the neighborhood."  The 1911 Handbook of Settlements noted,

The district in which the house is situated is known as the old American quarter.  Its outward signs are the small three-story house, the small shop, the picturesque and winding streets; and permeating all, the note of torpor and decay.

The Greenwich Settlement operated from the house until about 1922, when the Rolandellis converted it to apartments.  Artist Reginald Marsh lived here on September 7, 1923 when he and Elizabeth Burroughs took out a marriage license.  The Brooklyn Daily Star mentioned that the 25-year-old artist's intended bride "is well known among the younger set of the North Shore."

Author Sue Jenkins Brown and her husband, James Light, had lived here for a year at the time.  Their apartment was a center of the Village arts community.  In his The Life and Work of Ludwig Lewisohn, Ralph Melnick describes one of Sue Jenkins Brown's gatherings:

It was a "young party," with some whose reputations were already developing--Brown's husband James Light (known to Ludwig [i.e., Lewisohn] from his involvement with the Provincetown Players), Malcolm Cowley, Kenneth Burke, their wives, and others of their group, possibly Hart Crane, William Slater Brown, Allen Tate, and Matthew Josephson.

In 1924, Sue Jenkin Brown loaned her apartment to poet and essayist Allen Tate and novelist and critic Caroline Gordon.  Nancylee Novell Jonza writes in The Underground Stream, The Life and Art of Caroline Gordon, "Sue gave Carolyn and Allen the use of her apartment at 30 Jones Street, and the couple began telling friends and family that they were married."  (The two would marry the following year.)  

The occupants of the apartments in the three houses at 26 to 30 Jones Street purchased the properties cooperatively in 1929 as the Greenwich House Co-operative Apartments, Inc.

Many of the owners continued to be involved in the arts.  On April 14, 1934, for instance, The New York Age reported, "The Theatre Union, an organization that is out to break down all the barriers that are hampering the progress of universal art...gave a very successful tea last Sunday afternoon at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Gratton, 30 Jones street, on the eve of the opening of their second venture, 'Stevedore.'"

Essentially nothing outwardly has changed since this photo was taken in 1941.  via the NYC Dept. of Records & Information Services.

Maria Muldaur would become a leading figure in the American folk music revival in the 1960s.  But before finding fame, she lived here.  In her Bob Dylan, Intimate Insights from Friends and Fellow Musicians, Kathleen Mackay recalls,

When Muldaur ran away from home in 1960, she actually ran to the building at 30 Jones Street where she was staying during her current visit to New York.  She took a job as a mother's helper for one of the families in the building.  It gave her free room and board while she finished high school.  At the time, the Village was a mecca for people "to be running away to" as Muldaur put it.

Outwardly little changed, today 30 Jones Street with its remarkable history contains two residences.

photographs by the author

The 1844 Abram Bassford House - 26 Jones Street

 
Jane S. Paradise moved into the three-story house at 26 Jones Street in 1844 at a time when Greek Revival was nudging aside the Federal style in architectural domestic fashion.  One of a short row of nearly identical homes, the construction and lot of 26 Jones Street cost the developer $3,800, or about $160,000 in 2025 terms.  It was faced in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Its entrance sat within a frame of stone pilasters that upheld an unusually high entablature.  The elegant doorway was flanked by narrow sidelights and an ample transom allowed natural light into the foyer.

The original entrance frame survived as late as 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of  Records & Information Services.

It is possible that Jane S. Paradise operated the residence as a boarding house in the early years.  Living here in 1845 were Julius Cogswell, a currier; and James Meinell, Jr., whose profession was listed as "tools."  Robert Morris, a peddler, occupied the smaller house in the rear yard that year.

Before long, however, Abram Bassford purchased 26 Jones Street.  Born around 1795, Bassford dealt in billiard tables and piano fortes.  His substantial operation was reflected in his three locations at 63-65 Centre Street, 8 Ann Street, and 603 Broadway.  An 1851 advertisement boasted that the Bassford billiard table was "best in the world--first premium at World's Fair."  (The spectacular Great Exhibition was held in Hyde Park in London.)  By the time of the ad, Abram Bassford, Jr. was affiliated with the company.  Two years later, the American Art Journal noted, "Abram Bassford's Grand and Square pianos were awarded the prize medals at our first World's Fair, held at the Crystal Palace, New York."

Bassford and his wife had at least three other children, a son and two daughters.  William K. Bassford was described by  the American Art Journal as, "the distinguished American song composer."  Born on April 23, 1839, William was for a time the organist of St. Bartholomew Church.  He wrote several secular songs, a mass, and a two-act opera, Cassilda.

Abram Bassford was involved in a puzzling conflict with the city in 1858.  Bassford submitted his bill to the Finance Committee of the Board of Education for "a piano-forte now in use in Ward School No. 3, in the Ninth Ward."  Without giving a reason, the minutes of the Board noted on May 5, 1858, "Resolved, That the bill of Abram Bassford, for a piano, be not paid by this Board."

On June 13, 1864, Abram Bassford, Sr. died "suddenly," according to The New York Times.  The term suggested a heart attack or stroke.  His funeral was held in the parlor on June 15.  At the time, both daughters were married.  One of them had wed grocer Henry Evesson, Jr. and the couple was living with the family at the time of Bassford's death.

It appears that Abram Bassford, Jr. was not able to attend his father's funeral.  He was a member of Company C, 12th Regiment, which was present at the surrender at Harper's Ferry in September 1862.  On October 3, 1865, The New York Times reported that Bassford had been promoted to first lieutenant.

By 1867, the Rev. Selig Lisner family occupied 26 Jones Street.  Sons George and David were partners in George Lisner & Brother.  They operated three fancygoods stores at 301 Canal Street, 323 Canal Street, and 837 Broadway.  (Fancygoods stores were different from a general or drygoods store in that they sold a range of items like ribbons, buttons, ceramic figurines and such.)

That year Moritz and Adeline Meyers boarded with the family.  Interestingly, Adeline was a partner with her husband in their shoe business.  When they moved on in 1869, an advertisement on April 1 listed, "To Let--The lower part of a fine private house, with all modern improvements, 26 Jones street, near Sixth avenue and Fourth street."

The advertisement was answered by Joseph and Hannah Alden.  He was a butcher in the Clinton Market.  Hannah died here at the age of 68 on November 20, 1873.  Her funeral was held in the house on November 23.  Joseph remained here until 1874, when the house was sold to Adam May, a milk dealer.

The Mays took in several boarders.  Living with the family in 1876 were two widows, Eliza Brown and Clara Rice, and John H. Morten, a carpenter.  In 1879, the Allen family boarded here.  Edward was a carpenter, Eugene was a laborer, and George Allen was an express driver.  Two other drivers, John Britton and Joseph Mason, also boarded with the Mays.

George and Emma Schenk were boarding here in March 1899 when they purchased 26 Jones Street from Adam May.  The price was $11,006, or about $412,000 in 2025 terms.

The Schenks leased the house to Greenwich House.  Described by its founder Mary Kingsbury Simkhovitch as a "Cooperative Social Settlement Society," it opened on Thanksgiving Day in 1902.  Among the trustees were reformer Jacob Riis, Carl Schurz and Felix Adler, and financial supporters included Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney and Frieda S. Warburg.

According to Gerald W. McFarland in his Inside Greenwich Village, 

The house at 26 Jones Street needed a thorough cleaning, interior painting, repairs, and the services of a pest exterminator before it was ready for occupancy in November 1902.  Simkhovitch had recruited a staff of fifteen residents, eight women and seven men...She, her family, and five women residents moved into 26 Jones, with the young women assigned small bedrooms on the building's third floor.  A visitor during the first year reported that each woman was provided with the bare necessities (a chair, a table, a chiffonier, a bed, and bedding) and encouraged to supplement these items with 'pictures, rugs, hangings, desks, etc." acquired on her own.

The work within the impoverished neighborhood was reflected in an article in The Evening Post on June 12, 1903.  "The residents of Greenwich House, a social settlement at No. 26 Jones Street, are anxious to have two baby carriages, which they could lend to poor women of the neighborhood who are now unable to take their babies to the adjacent parks."

Dr. William H. Tolman, in his 1903 The Better New York, noted that the Greenwich House works "on a different basis from that ordinarily adopted by social settlements.  It believes that the neighborhood about a settlement should be represented on the board of managers, and also believes in the co-responsibility of residents, workers and non-residents."

A grainy 1905 photograph captures prim shutters on the windows as children played on the sidewalk and street.  The Commons, March 1905 (copyright expired) 

After renting the property for three years, on October 21, 1905, the Record & Guide reported that George Schenck had transferred title to The Co-operative Settlement Society of City New York.

An article in the 1905 issue of The Commons explained that "clubs, classes and social gatherings meet" here, and in "the basement there is a middle room absolutely dark by day but having a big old-fashioned fireplace in it.  This is the comfortable den where the settlement household gathers after dinner for coffee and where those who are not rushing away to committees or clubs, may sit down and gossip awhile."

The rear house, in which Robert Morris lived in 1845, was rented "by one of the residents who uses it as a studio and generously allows the rest of the household to come and sit by the open fire," said the article.  It noted, "This little hidden building is typical of the charm of this old quarter, speaking of the past that is giving place to a new and different life."

When Greenwich House moved into 26 Jones Street, the neighborhood was one of the densest in the city.  Mary Kingsbury Simkhovitch told The Commons, "Since that time the racial character of our block was changed radically."  Of the 296 families on the street, she said, "115 are Italians."  She pointed out, "There are living in Jones Street today representatives of eight different nationalities."

Children played by the rear yard of 26 Jones Street, while in the background others can seen in the "sand box."  The Commons, March 1905 (copyright expired)

Among the services provided to these immigrant families was the Tenants' Manual.  The handbook gave information about laws regarding "eviction, desertion and non-support, installment sales, child labor, etc."  Other information included, "prevention of the spread of diseases," along with the locations of museums, schools, places of amusements, and such.  Here women and children were instructed in classes of sewing, cooking, "fresh air work," and there was a kindergarten.  By the time of The Commons article, Greenwich Settlement had expanded into 28 Jones Street.  The rear yard of that property was described as "The Farm."

The varied ethnicity of the neighborhood was reflected in an exhibition here in 1908 of items that immigrants had brought from their native lands.  The New-York Tribune reported on May 28, "Wonderful bed covers, aprons and towels and strange looking caps, all loaded with embroidery; curious carved things of wood; brasses that no collector can see without getting green with envy."  The items originated not only from the expected countries like Italy and Ireland, but included brasses from Russia, a bronze mirror from China, and a Viking bowl from Norway.

In 1917 Greenwich House moved into its new building at 27 Barrow Street.  Around 1940, 26 Jones Street was renovated to three apartments.  It was most likely at this time that the pilasters of the entrance frame were shaved flat.  

No. 26 Jones Street and the two abutting houses were owned cooperatively by eight families.  Among the residents of No. 26 were James Hammond Black, a partner in the Wall Street law firm Sowers, Herrick & Black, and his wife, Irma Simonton Black.  She was a writer and editor of children's books.

Irma Simonton Black joined the faculty of Bank Street College of Education in 1942.  She created a series of school books that transitioned the well-known Dick and Jane type of primers to contemporary urban settings.

After 40 years at the Bank Street College of Education, Irma, who was the chairman of publications and communications for the facility, planned to retire in August 1972.  In June that year, James traveled to Savannah, Georgia to attend a wedding.  He returned on June 18 to discover a tragedy.

Two hours before he arrived, two neighbors, Hope Dibbell and Tony Buttita, noticed a broken window in the basement.  They went to the Blacks' third floor apartment where they found the door open and Irma's dead body, clad in pajamas, on the living room floor.  Police surmised the 66-year-old had surprised a burglar in the apartment.  The New York Times reported that the murdered author "was stabbed with a scissors and a large knife as well as with a carving fork."

There are still three units within the house.  Other than the modified entrance frame, the venerable residence and an important part of Greenwich Village history is outwardly little changed.

photographs by the author

The Chas. Miller House - 31 Jones Street

The original entrance was directly above the industrial lighting fixture.

 
In 1825 Charles Miller purchased the large house at the corner of Herring and Jones Streets from Peter and Diana Walker.  Diana's brother, John Brower, had built it in 1813.  If Miller lived in the house on what would later become Bleecker Street, it was not for long.  Around 1828, he completed construction on a more modest two-and-a-half story home directly behind, at No. 31 Jones Street.

Most likely faced in red brick, its entrance was above a stone stoop.  Two tall dormers, expected of the style, punched through the peaked roof and would have provided sleeping rooms for one or two servants.

In 1838 the family of Moses I. Quinby moved into in the house.  A Quaker, Quinby was born in Northcastle, New York in 1794.  He married Esther Field on October 19, 1814 and the couple had four children, Walter, George, Mary Jane and Aaron. 

Moses went into the dry goods business with his nephew, Josiah, in 1817 at No. 394 Pearl Street.  But he changed course in 1832 when he opened a grocery at No. 1 Morton Street, near Bleecker.

The Quinby family was listed in directories through 1841; but it seems they had moved away by the time Moses died of diabetes on April 6, 1843.  The house subsequently converted to a rooming house.

On September 26, 1843 The New York Herald reported that the Coroner had held an inquest into the death of "a colored man named Cesar Tredwell, a patent sweep, of 31 Jones street, who died in a fit at the corner of Downing and Bleecker Streets."

Slavery had been abolished in New York in 1827.  By now the city's black population was centered in Greenwich Village, and before long the Minetta Lane area, about three blocks east, would become known as Little Africa.  Tredwell's occupation of patent sweep was not a glamorous one.

Two patent sweeps, as depicted in the 1828 children's book The New-York Cries, in Rhyme. (copyright expired)

City law required that chimneys be swept once a month.  The job was done mostly, at least according to The U. S. Democratic Review in 1846, by blacks.  The filthy process made use of ropes and brushes and very often required descending into the sooty chimneys.

The boarding house had blue collar tenants of different races.  In 1855 painter C. J. Simmons and carpenter John W. Turhune roomed here.  Both were volunteer members of the Empire Hose Company No. 40, at No. 70 Barrow Street.   The Irish-born laborers were presumably white.

On November 26, 1874 a boarder was found unconscious at the corner on Bleecker Street.  The New York Times reported that the 52-year old Edward Bosworth was taken to Bellevue Hospital.   Whatever caused him to collapse, Bosworth did not survive it.  He died on December 1.  The New York Herald noted "Friends are invited to attend the funeral at 31 Jones street, on Thursday afternoon, December 3, at one o'clock."

By 1889 the boarding house was being run by Mrs. Fanny Washington, described by The Evening World as "a handsome mulatto woman" who was just 19 years old.  Among her boarders was Bertie Croker (also described as mulatto).  Bertie was carrying on a romance with Julius H. Carpenter and he moved into her room--a shocking disregard for social proprieties.

After six years of living together, Bertie tired of Julius and sent him packing.  Brokenhearted, the young lover set off on a determined quest to regain Bertie's affections.  Today it would be deemed stalking.

A telegram arrived for Bertie one night signed by a man named Singleton.  In it he informed her that Carpenter had died.  Carpenter apparently waited for a grief-ridden Bertie to come running to his home.  She did not show up.

The Evening World reported on July 11, 1895, "A few hours afterwards a letter was received from the alleged corpse denying the report, and assuring her that the writer was never in better health."

For Bertie and Fannie it was the last straw.  "The women decided that this strain on their feelings must cease, so they had Carpenter arrested," said The World.

Fannie told the judge that Carpenter had "caused her great annoyance through his persistence in forcing his attentions on Miss Croker after they were no longer desired."  The newspaper added "Miss Croker corroborated the testimony against her discarded lover."

The man who was arrested "for loving persistently" lamented to the police that he had spent $3,000 on Bertie since they met.  After promising the court that he would cease annoying the women, he was released.

It appears that by now the tenants here were mostly, if not all, black.  In the fall of 1902 the Rev. J. T. Jones came to New York City on behalf of the Georgia Colored Industrial and Orphan's Home near Macon, Georgia.  The facility was founded "for the friendless children of the colored race."  While some of its expenses were defrayed by the farm worked by the orphans; there was always a need for clothing and funding.  The New York Times noted "While in the city the Rev. Mr. Jones will stay at 31 Jones Street."

A significant trend was taking hold in Greenwich Village at the same time.  Artists, writers and musicians flocked to what was becoming Manhattan's Bohemia.  By the outbreak of World War I the residents of Jones Street once again were mainly whites.  In 1917 Rose Wilder Lane and Berta Hoerner rented rooms in No. 31 Jones Street. 

The daughter of author Laura Ingalls Wilder (famous later for her Little House on the Prairie books) and Almanzo Wilder, Rose would make her own way in the literary and political world.  She would later be credited as one of the founders of the American Libertarian Movement.   She and Berta, who was an artist, fit perfectly into the Greenwich Village milieu.  But both were in New York only temporarily and soon left Jones Street for California.

The basement apartment was rented by critic, author, editor and journalist Harold Edmund Stearns by 1920.  Author H. L. Mencken, in his 1992 My Life As Author and Editor wrote bluntly "Stearns inhabited squalid quarters at 31 Jones Street in Greenwich Village, and dressed so badly that he always looked dirty, but he somehow managed to keep himself supplied with the nauseous bootleg sherry that was his favorite tipple."

While Mencken may have thought Stearns's home "squalid," it was the scene of "discussion groups" that included some of the great thinkers and writers of the day.  Lewis Mumford said in his 1982 Sketches from Life that it was here that he had the "best sustained conversation" he ever participated in.  Sociologist, anthropologist and feminist Elsie Clews Parsons was a regular in the group.

It was while living in the Jones Street apartment that Stearns completed Civilization in the United States: An Inquiry by Thirty Americans.   When he turned the manuscript over to his publisher in July 1921, he left America for Paris.  Author David Reid explained in his The Brazen Age: New York City and the American Empire, that Stearns was "following the succinct advice he had given other young American intellectuals in a previous book: 'Get out.'"

Affie Hammond worked for the Welfare Department from 1934 until December 1939 when she was fired.  She had been a member of the Communist Party from January 1935 until August 1938 when, disillusioned, she withdrew.  According to Hammond, that cost her her job.

She was living at No. 31 Jone Street when she was a witness in the suit of another fired worker, social investigator Doris Stahl.  Stahl charged that her dismissal was the result of her anti-Communist activities.

Hammond's testimony before Supreme Court Justice Lloyd Church on January 29, 1941 was shocking.  She said that between 500 to 600 Communist employees in the Department formed a network.  "Through the Communist network," she said, "it was possible to inform members in one district of the status with relation to the party employees transferred into their district, so that those who were favorable could be helped and those who were antagonistic could be hindered."

By the time Affie Hammond lived in the building its appearance had been altered.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to the basement, slightly below street level.  The brick facade was covered with a stucco-like substance which was scored and stained to resemble brownstone. 

Today the nearly 200-year old house is operated as the Jones Street Guesthouse.  The interiors have been sympathetically renovated.  Despite the 20th century alterations, it still retains much of its Federal flavor; including the miraculously-surviving dormers.

photograph by the author

The John Brower House - 281 Bleecker Street

John Brower worked as an "assessor" for the City of New York in the 1820s.   When the "Walks in Columbia Street from Grand to Stanton Street" were paved in 1825, Brower worked with James Bleecker to do the assessment.  It was a somewhat ironic teaming, for four year later Herring Street, on which Brower's former house stood, would be renamed in honor of Bleecker's father, Abraham Lispenard Bleecker.

Brower had owned the land at the southeast corner of Herring and Jones Streets since 1794; but it was not until around 1813 that he erected the house there.  The Federal-style residence foretold of the major change coming to sleepy Greenwich Village.  Three and a half stories high, it was a commodious 25-feet wide and stretched back 75 feet along Jones Street.  Dormers would have punched through the attic roof. 

Brower's social and political importance was reflected in his 1841 appointment by the governor as a Vice Chancellor of the New York Court of Chancery, the second-highest position in that court system.  But by then he had not owned the Bleecker Street house for nearly 25 years.  In 1817 he transferred it to his sister and brother-in-law, Diana and Peter Walker.

The Walkers sold the property in 1825 to Charles Miller, apparently a "ship carpenter."  During his family's 55-year ownership, the house would see significant change.

In 1820 Arthur H. Rogers had opened a drug store at No. 193 Spring Street.  In 1832 Miller converted to ground floor of No. 281 Bleecker Street for Rogers's second store.  As he took his sons into the business, the name became A. Rogers' Sons.  The pharmacy would be a Bleecker Street fixture for decades.

The street level seems to have accommodated not only the drugstore, but a small grocery.  In 1837 James P. Horton's grocery was here.  By 1841 directories listed Henry Klennen's grocery here; and from 1846 through 1849 it was home to Henry Vanaxte's grocery.  He lived in rooms above the store.

Charles Miller operated the upper floors as a boarding house.  In July 1865 he offered "A nice parlor to let--For a gentleman and wife, with or without board; also a second floor Front Room.  Terms moderate."  The following year in May an advertisement in the New York Herald read "A very pleasant front parlor, furnished, $8 per week; also Hall Room, $10 per month; for gentlemen only."

The $8 per week rent would translate to just under $125 today.  The restriction "for gentlemen only" prevented the possible invasion of women of ill-repute and subsequent problems.

A. Rogers' Sons, like almost all drugstores, were "chemists" as well; mixing and creating medications.  Rogers' best-known remedy, perhaps, was its Citrate Magnesia, advertised for years in popular magazines.  An ad in Puck magazine in 1880 described it as "An agreeable Aperient and Refrigerant.  This well known preparation is highly recommended for Dyspepsia, Headache, Sickness of the Stomach, and all complaints arising from Acidity, Biliousness, and Malarial Fevers.  It cools the blood and regulates the bowels.  It is a favorite medicine for children."

In 1886 A. Rogers' Sons advertised its Citrate Magnesia in The University of the City of New York's Catalogue and Announcements (copyright expired)

In 1880 brothers Arthur and Edward H. Rogers purchased the Bleecker Street building from Charles Miller.  Edward, by now, had his reputation restored.  Years earlier, in 1868, he and his brother, were working alone in his father's Spring Street drugstore when a servant girl entered, requesting "salts and senna" for her employer, James Hamilton.  Edward mistakenly handed her oxalic acid.  Hamilton died soon after.

After the arrests of both Edward and his father and a well-publicized trial, the young druggist was acquitted in what was popularly called The Hamilton Poisoning Case.

The brothers would not retain ownership of No. 281 Bleecker Street for very long.  In 1885 Arthur joined his other brother, James, in establishing the A. H. Rogers & Co. in Genesco, New York.  He and Edward transferred title to the Bleecker Street property to Emily Rogers in 1883.  By the time she sold it to Hugh Slevin in 1890, the drugstore was gone.

Slevin made significant alterations to the building.  He raised the attic to a full fourth floor, topped with an attractive bracketed cornice.  Matching sills and lintels were placed over all the openings.

Slevin leased the former drugstore to Emil Mesnier, a real estate investor himself and the owner of two saloons--one at No. 339 Eighth Avenue and the other at No. 840 Broadway.  Soon Mesnier owned three saloons.

The proprietorship of the new saloon changed hands repeatedly.  In 1892 Mesnier sold his saloon to John Martin for $8,500 (more than a quarter of a million dollars today); and in 1894 Martin leased it to Anton Schwartz and brothers Max E. and Simon Bernheimer, owners of the Bernheimer & Schwartz brewery.  It was common practice for breweries to operate their own saloons, thereby restricting sales to only their own products.  The Bernheimer & Schwartz saloon would remain until 1908.

A saloon, operated by string of proprietors, would remain here until 1920, the year Prohibition came into effect.  At that time it was run by Joseph Gertner.  In its place David Reichenberg opened a grocery store.

Meanwhile, the upper floors were rented to residents of modest means.  One of them, Robert Kirchner, was 19 years old in 1903 when he was fired as a driver for Z. Piercy, an "expressman" with stables at No. 213 Thompson Street.  The term "expressman" meant that Piercy ran a cartage, or delivery, business.

The disgruntled teen hatched a scheme with another driver, 24-year old Henry Rose.  Among Piercy's regular clients was the wholesale drug firm of Lehn & Fink, on William Street.  When its management began complaining that several packages were not reaching their customers undercover detectives put a tail on Piercy's drivers.

Rose and Kirchner had been careful not to steal packages from Rose's shipments; taking them instead from other wagons.  They did not expect, therefore, to be followed.  But on a Saturday night in June, as they were handing over a box of drugs in E. Hoenig's Carmine Street drugstore, the detectives rushed in.   All three were arrested, Rose and Kirchner for larceny, and Hoenig for receiving stolen goods.

Decades later another resident was being watched; but for far different reasons.  Andrew A. Genovese, who lived here at least from 1936 to 1940, was annually listed on the Government's roster of Communist Party voters.

At the time there was a bakery in the Bleecker Street store.  Then the space became home to Ottomanelli's Meat Market in 1957.  Like A. Rogers' Sons drugstore, it became a destination for decades.  Greenwich Villagers may have been shocked to see the shop close after 32 years, in 1989.  They breathed a sigh of relief when the venerable butcher shop reopened two doors away at No. 285 Bleecker Street a week later.

Today the space that had been a saloon for the 30 years prior to Prohibition is once again a bar, the Blind Tiger.  John Brower's two-century-old building has been owned by the Mongioi family since 1923.

photographs by the author

No. 20 Jones Street

In 1794 Dr. Gardiner Jones laid out a short lane in Greenwich Village.  The block-long road took his name, becoming Jones Street.  Half a century later, around 1844, developer George Schott completed a row of stylish Greek Revival rowhouses on the block.

Like its neighbors, No. 20 was faced in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Three bays wide and three stories high over and English basement, it was intended for a financially-comfortable family.  But this section of Greenwich Village would quickly decline.  By 1857, when William M. and Eleazar B. Brown owned the building, it was already being operated as a boarding house.

Greenwich Village was the center of the black community in the 19^th century.  Nearby Minetta Lane was familiarly called Little Africa.   When Jacob Ramsey, Jr. moved into No. 20 Jones Street around 1880 the tenant list was racially-mixed; there were two other white families in the house.  

Ramsey was going through difficult domestic problems at the time.   He took rooms in the house when he and his wife, Vandalia (called Vannie by friends) separated.  Vandalia suspected Ramsey of cheating and sued for divorce in July 1880.  But when she could produce no evidence, the case was thrown out.

Jacob then sued Vandalia for divorce, claiming that it was she who was unfaithful.   But she was intent on proving her case and preserving her reputation.  She hired a private detective who, unfortunately for her, was not an accomplished sleuth.  Ramsey complained that the detective “has been dogging his footsteps night and day,” according to a newspaper.

It culminated in a confrontation in the Jones Street house at 11:30 on the night of Sunday, October 31, 1880.  That night, after the downstairs doorbell was repeatedly rung, a boarder went to the door.  Two women and two men insisted they needed to see Ramsey.  The boarder was reluctant, but “after some urging,” opened the door and pointed the way to Ramsey’s rooms.

In the group was Vannie Ramsey; her sister, Annie Weller; the private detective, Edward R. Scott; and a friend, Frank Sleeper, a pump manufacturer.  They were positive they would find Jacob Ramsey in a compromising situation with a woman.

The four quietly moved to Ramsey’s door and one of the men knocked on it, saying that “a gentleman wished to see him.”  When Jacob cracked the door open a few inches, the group rushed in, knocking him against the bed “violently,” according to The New York Times.

Ramsey was wearing his trousers, shirt and slippers.  Before he could get to his feet he was threatened with physical violence.  “Sleeper was armed with a formidable looking walking-cane, which he brandished over Ramsey’s head,” said The Times.

As the two women searched the rooms, Scott “then struck him with a club and Sleeper hit him in the stomach with a cane,” reported the The Sun.  Ramsey later complained that when he demanded to know by what authority they had burst into the house, Scott shook the billy club in his face and replied that the weapon was his authority.

Ramsey had all four arrested for assault.  At a hearing on November 5 they pleaded not-guilty and a trial date was set.  Justice Smith instructed Sleeper and Scott to “bring when them the weapons with which they were armed when they broke into the room.”  He also advised Jacob Ramsey that “If you are troubled again in this manner, defend yourself.”

Ramsey’s landlord, Willard C. Hunter, lived in the house.  In October 1882 he demolished a similar house across the street, at No. 17, and hired architect C. E. Hadden to replace it with a three-story brick stable.

Although the S-shaped iron shutter dogs, used to prevented exterior shutters from banging in the wind, appear original; they do not appear in early 20th century photographs.

By 1893 all the tenants in No. 20 Jones Street were black.  Most had come to New York from other areas, looking for a better life in the North.  In 1889 Douglas M. Berwick arrived from Jamaica, leaving his wife and three children behind.  Berwick had been an attorney in Kingston before coming to New York.  Now he worked in a jute factory in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

The former lawyer’s hopes never came to pass.  On July 31, 1893 The Sun reported “Douglas M. Berwick, a middle-aged man and a native of Jamaica, was found dead in his bed yesterday morning at his boarding house, 20 Jones street.”  The coroner attributed his dead to a stroke.

There was another death in the house later that year.  Even in the North, most people of color could find jobs only as servants, laborers, or other lowly positions.  Edward S. Taggart was a porter on New York Central trains.  The 28-year old shared a third floor room at No. 20 Jones Street with another porter, named Elliott.

In November Taggart became ill, and his condition worsening to pneumonia.  Around 4:00 on the morning of November 28 Elliott was awakened by the sound of the window being opened.  He looked around just in time to see his roommate jump to his death.  The Evening World remarked “It is thought Taggart was crazed from fever.”

A resident named Taylor was searching for work in May 1902.  He was careful to identify his race in the advertisement he placed in the New-York Tribune.  “Useful Man – By colored Southern man; experience in gardening, coaching or horses; good reference.”

A year later neither Taylor nor his wife was working.  In April 1903 he placed another advertisement: “Gardener—Cook.  Southern couple, colored; man thoroughly understands gardening coaching and care of horses; wife good cook or houseworker.”

Another couple was looking for work that year.  On June 13, 1903 a tenant named Birchard placed an ad; and like Taylor combined his wife’s abilities with his:  “Coachman and Gardener—Colored; wife good cook; private or hotel; reference.”

A year earlier the Greenwich Settlement House had been organized in a renovated house at No. 26 Jones Street.  The Settlement House movement sought to improve the lives of the impoverished by training them in domestic arts and income-producing trades. 

The conditions of the poor on Jones Street exemplified the desperate need.  In 1902 the infant mortality on Jones Street was, according to The New York Times, “125 to 1,000, more than twice what it was in other parts of the city.”

In 1910 Greenwich House purchased Nos. 18 and 20 Jones Street for use as low-income housing.  Indigent tenement dwellers had little opportunity to enjoy the out of doors; and their children’s play and exercise was limited to the dangerous streets.  The rear yards of the Greenwich House properties were renovated to resolve the problem.

The New York Times announced on May 16 “At 18 and 20 Jones Street a basket ball and handball court has been fitted up for boys, while in the yards back of the Settlement, at 26 and 28 Jones Street, a small park is to be opened for the use of mothers and small children.”

A decision was made in 1918 that the houses at Nos. 18 and 20 Jones Street should be rented not to the needy; but to more affluent tenants to increase the funds of the Settlement House.   A renovation costing $7,000 was initiated that provided “steam heat, electricity and plumbing.”   Completed in December, the new apartments were quickly rented and The Sun listed the eight females who had signed separate leases in December. 

The following month The New York Times remarked on the upgrades to the apartments.  Each house previously brought in a total of $70 per month.  “The results are $310 per month for each house and all the apartments were rented on long leases.”

Although a spacious new settlement house was erected on Barrow Street in 1917; the growing work of the organization taxed the space.  The Jones Street properties filled the need for spill-over work like pottery making, metal work and cabinetmaking.   In 1927 No. 20 Jones Street was renovated and in December The Times noted “The new Crafts Building at 20 Jones Street is taking shape; there the handicraft operations will have more room to develop.”

In 1927 the house at No. 16 had been demolished, to be replaced by the Greenwich House Workshops. Two women shop workers in No 22 take a break to get fresh air.   photo New-York Historical Society

 On November 18, 1929 the Settlement House added another feature to No. 20 Jones Street.  It opened a tea room “where luncheon, tea and dinner will be served every weekday.”  The Times explained that “The purpose of the tea room is to provide a workshop for girls in connection with the Domestic Science Department of Greenwich House, and to offer training both in business and the dining routine of the home.”

Through the tea room girls learned nutrition, cooking skills, serving, the handling of money and accounting, and social skills through interacting with the public—all important abilities in making one’s way in life.

By 1941 No. 20 Jones Street had become the Artists and Writers Kitchen.  The venue staged art sales to benefit struggling artists.   In December that year a “Christmas portfolio” sale was held “to raise funds to provide free meals and other aid for indigent artists and writers,” announced The Times.  Among the nationally-recognized artists who donated works were John Sloan, Arthur William Brown, DeHirsch Marguiles, Peggy Bacon and Gordon Grant.

In 1947 architect Henry T. Howard and his wife, Jane, purchase Nos. 18 and 20 from Greenwich House.  They renovated the two buildings to modern apartments, and removed the outdated stoops.   Skylights were punched through the roofs to provide studio lights.  The renovations were completed in 1949 and two years later the Howards sold the buildings as a package to Tyte-Hanfield Co., Inc.

At some point during this time actor Kirk Douglas lived in a top floor apartment, according to his autobiography The Ragman’s Son.  It was apparently a short stay, since his film career had already begun to take off.

Architect Harley Jones purchased the house in 1994 and rebuilt the lost stoop.  He sold it to Jacinta Orlando and her lawyer husband Gus Samios in 1988.  They did a gut renovation in 2004 that resulted in a basement apartment below a single-family triplex.  Their celebrity tenants in the basement apartment was singer-songwriter Steve Earle and his wife, Allison Moorer.

In September 2010 the house was put on the market for $7.9 million.  The listing created an oddity in real estate offerings.  The owner of the house next door, No. 18—which had been for so much of the 20^th century handled as a package with No. 20—decided to sell; but only if it were sold together with No. 20.  The combined offering was $16.5 million.

No. 18 (left) still manages without its stoop.

Although the Greek Revival doorway to No. 20 Jones Street was long ago lost, with its restored stoop it retains 1840s appearance.  The brownstone sills and lintels and dentiled fascia board survive after a long and sometimes harried history.

photographs by the author