Clarence F. True's 1891 161 West 76th Street

 

Clarence Fagan True designed the four upscale rowhouses at 155 through 161 West 76th Street for Duncan C. McKinlay in 1890.  He designed the brownstone-fronted homes in the Renaissance Revival style.  Like the others, the westernmost house, No. 161, was four stories tall above a high English basement.  True was noted for his often eccentric details, and carved onto the dog-legged, box stoop was a fearsome-looking dragon sinking its fangs into a banner.

The stoop detail is patently Clarence F. True.

True striated the parlor level with rough-cut bands upon the otherwise planar surface.  Stylized Corinthian pilasters  carved with vining flowers and a fantastic bird flanked the doorway.  Carved ornaments capped the fully-arched parlor windows and the molded cornice of the entranceway.

The architect treated each of the upper floor openings differently.  The second floor windows wore flush, ornately-carved lintels; those on the third floor sat below large shells; and the fourth-floor windows were embraced by carved panels and lintels.

McKinlay sold 161 West 76th Street to real estate operators Robert P. and Annie G. Martin in 1891.  They advertised:  "To Rent--Handsome new house, No. 161 West 76th st; will be decorated to suit tenant."

Their ownership would be short.  On May 2, 1892 the Martins sold the house to George and Henrietta F. Reid.  It appears that the Reids, like their predecessors, leased it.  

Living here in 1894 was Harriet Hall Valentine Holder, the widow of Charles Hawkes Holder who died in 1892.  Born in 1849, she and Charles had five children.  At least one of them, Suzanne Valentine, lived here.  The parlor was the scene of Suzanne's wedding to Charles Schumacher Jr. on November 28, 1894.

The Reids sold 161 West 76th Street in May 1898.  It became home to the John Paret Jr. family.  Born on September 4, 1835, Paret married Emily Louisa Story in 1859 and the couple had nine children--five sons and four daughters.  The family's country home was in Ellenville, New York.

Paret was the head of the men's clothing firm, John Paret & Co., founded by his father in 1816.

A charming John Paret & Co. trade card.  The reverse would have contained the advertising material.

Rufus Story Paret was the eldest of the sons.  The 35-year-old died here on June 6, 1899 and his funeral was held in the parlor on the 8th.  One month later, on July 27, John Paret died at their summer home.  His body was brought back to Manhattan and his funeral was held in the house on July 29.

At least two sons would continue to live at 161 West 76th Street with their mother.  Walter P. Paret was born in 1872 and was educated at Yale University and Columbia University Law School.  Still unmarried, he was with the law firm of Perkins & Jackson.  His older brother, John, was born in 1867 and graduated from Cornell University in 1893.  He, too, was unmarried.  A banker, he was associated with the Union Trust Company.

The Parets left West 76th Street early in 1902.  As was common at the time, when affluent families relocated they sold everything in their previous home and started over.  An auction of the contents of 161 West 76th Street was held on February 7, 1902.  The announcement listed items like "rich hangings, Gold and Vernis Martin Cabinets, rare and costly Curios."  There were also a "Gold Drawing Room Suite, odd and beautiful Chairs, Turkish Rugs, Oil Paintings by eminent Artists."  A particular Royal Vienna pedestal was valued at $500 and a Royal Dresden vase, described as "one of the largest in the city" was valued at $550.  The combined value of those two items alone would translate to about $40,500 in 2026.

Typical of Clarence True's designs, close inspection of the entrance pilasters reveals a fantastic fowl seemingly plucking at a vine.

The house next became home to Adolph and Sophie Hirsch.  Adolph was a partner in the commodity, fertilizer and chemical commission firm of Heller, Hirsch & Co.  The couple had three children, Herbert Adolph, Ralph Tuska, and Alice M.  

Herbert was attending the Harvard Law School when the family moved in.  He graduated in 1905 and, despite his law degree, he took a job as a clerk with Heller, Hirsch & Company.

Sophie Hirsch died on October 22, 1914.  The following month, on November 27, Adolph transferred title to the house in equal parts to his three children.

The Hirsch family leased 161 West 76th Street to Mary H. Squire in April 1916.  She either shared the house or sub-let it to Florence McMillan, who operated her music studio here.

Musical America September 30, 1916 (copyright expired)

In 1920, Mrs. Lulu Freeth Bosworth occupied the house.  She was active in the Professional Woman's League.

The Hirsch siblings advertised 161 West 76th Street for sale in 1921.  The ad on April 28 in the New York Herald read, "Four story high stoop residence, 15 rooms and 4 baths; 19x100; price $33,000; immediate possession."  Two months later, on June 4, the New-York Tribune reported that the Hirsches had sold it to Thomas S. Keatinge.

Alice Hirsch seems to have had seller's regret.  The 1923 American Art Annual's "Who's Who In Art" section listed Alice as having a studio on Washington Square and living at 161 West 76th Street.  Alice would have been renting rooms in her former home.  Another resident at the time was musician Frederic W. Berryman, who, until 1921, was organist and choirmaster of St. Peter's Church in Chelsea.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Among the tenants here in 1938 was Harriet Brown Nielson.  The 35-year-old was described by her attorney, Bernard H. Sandler, that year as "a member of a well-to-do California family, a writer, a linguist and a former Olympic swimmer."  Despite her rather illustrious background, Harriet was experiencing personal problems.

Nielson occupied two furnished rooms.  On the afternoon of February 7, 1938, she met William King, a saxophone player who worked for the Workers Progress Administration.  (His name, it turned out, was actually William Loftus.)  They went to dinner and, according to Loftus, "Mrs. Nielson had several drinks."  On the way to her apartment, they picked up a pint of gin.  When they finished it, they "took a walk and bought a quart of liquor," according to Loftus, "most of which they drank."

At one point, Loftus, a.k.a. King, allowed Harriet's two kittens to escape the apartment.  She flew into a rage and hit Loftus with an empty gin bottle, cutting his face.  According to him, he slapped her and, later, she fell several times and each time he picked her up.  He eventually passed out and when he awoke the next morning, Harriet was dead on the floor.

An autopsy revealed that Harriet, "former Pacific Coast diving champion," as described by the Syracuse Journal, had died of a "homicidal assault."  Dr. Milton Helpern said that Harriet's death was caused by abdominal hemorrhage, "following a traumatic laceration of the liver."  He explained that the injury "was caused by a blow and could not have resulted from a fall."

William Loftus was arrested for murder.  The following month, on March 19, 1938, The New York Times reported that a grand jury, "after listening to four witnesses," dismissed the charge.  What actually led to the former Olympic swimmer's death will never be known.

Frank J. Patti rented a room here in 1944.  The 26-year-old bus driver boarded a Staten Island Ferry on August 5 that year.  He was on the lower deck and "became angry when ordered behind ropes that had railed off part of the deck," as reported by the Staten Island Advance.  So angry was he, in fact, that he slugged 46-year-old deckhand Thomas Cochan in the jaw.

When the ferry pulled into the St. George terminal at 6:00 p.m., Patti was removed by police.  He was charged with third degree assault.  The case was scheduled for trial, but when Frank Patti agreed to pay Cochan "for any damage that had been done," according to the Staten Island Advance on September 7, Cochan dropped his complaint.  (The amount that Cochan agreed upon to ameliorate his injuries was not revealed.)

Also occupying a room here at the time was Walter L. Rowe.  On April 30, 1944, the 57-year-old stepped off the curb at Amsterdam Avenue and 76th Street and was killed by a hit-and-run driver.  Whether the offender was ever arrested is unclear.

In 1968, 161 West 76th Street was converted to apartments, two per floor.  Two decades later, a penthouse level, unseen from the street, was added.  In doing so, one of the fourth-floor apartments was raised to a duplex.

photographs by the author

The 1889 John and Catharine Brosnan House - 146 West 74th Street

 

Real estate was one of the few businesses in which women would thrive in the 19th century.  In 1888, Mary J. Coar hired architect Edward L. Angell to design five upscale rowhouses at West 74th Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues (renamed Columbus and Amsterdam, respectively, in 1890).  Mary Coar was not only the owner and developer of the project, but she was listed as the contractor as well.

Angell's plans, filed in March, described five four-story "brick, brown stone trimmed" dwellings.  Each would cost $25,000 to construct, or about $902,000 in 2026.  Designed in the popular Queen Anne Style, they were completed in 1889.  Like the other four houses, the basement and parlor levels of 146 West 74th Street were clad in rough-cut brownstone and the upper floors in red brick.  A dog-legged box stoop rose to the double-doored entrance, protected by a stone hood decorated with foliate designs and turret-like finials.

A charming three-sided bay above the entrance supported a small balcony to the third floor.  The transoms at the first through third floors were filled with colorful stained glass, while the upper sashes of the top floor were divided into multiple panes, typical of the Queen Anne style.

This photograph of the row in 1940 shows the stained glass transoms and upper Queen Anne-style sashes intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The house was purchased by John and Catharine Brosnan.  The couple had five children, John Jr., Loretto G., Mary T., Angela M., and Francis Xavier.

Born in Ireland, John Brosnan came to New York City at around 15 or 16 years old.  He listed his profession as "grocer;" however, his business at 157 Fulton Street was more accurately described as a saloon and wine importer.  

An ardent Roman Catholic, he did not operate a rowdy, disreputable establishment.  The New York Times would later say that he was "well known among wine traders throughout the United States" and that he "made a specialty of importing Spanish, Portuguese, and other wines not only into this country...but also to various countries of Europe."  He also suppled altar wine to many Roman Catholic churches.

Opened in 1850, Brosnan's operation was not opulent.  The New York Herald would later say, "The fittings were crude in their simplicity but they lent a distinctive atmosphere to the place.  They consisted chiefly of plain sawed oak with heavy cage wire to protect the bottle shelves.  A cash register never found its way into the establishment."  The New York Sun would add, "The old ale pumps, bright like those of venerable English inns, shine benevolently out of the dim background."

Nearly revered was a table in a rear room.  Called the Garibaldi Table, it was there in 1850, according to The Sun, that "Garibaldi planned the liberation of Italy."  On February 2, 1919, the newspaper would recall:

The room where Garibaldi assembled his junta is just as it was in his day.  In the middle of it is a ponderous table with massive curlycue legs and topped with an octagonal slab of red marble.

The "Garibaldi Table" could be admired, but no one was permitted to sit at it.  The Sun, February 2, 1919 (copyright expired)

Francis Xavier Brosnan was enrolled in Columbia University's School of Mines when the family moved in.  He would graduate with a civil engineering degree.  Upon his marriage to Mathilda Claire Jones, the population of 146 West 74th Street increased by one.  Sadly, Mathilda died on September 9, 1896.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on September 12 followed by a solemn requiem mass at Francis Xavier's Church on West 16th Street.

During a severe snow storm on the evening of February 13, 1899, the three Brosnan daughters entertained friends.  At 9:00 John, Catherine and Francis went to bed.  Two hours later, the sisters' guests left.  The New York Herald reported, "They had just put out the lights and gone to bed when one of them smelled smoke coming from the basement and awakened their parents."

The New York Times reported, "A citizen turned in an alarm," but the fire engines were severely hampered by the snowdrifts.  The New York Herald said that at Columbus Avenue and 74th Street, "Both got stuck in the snow.  The firemen had to drag the lines of hose up to the house, which was in the middle of the block, and by that time the flames had gained a good headway."  The family (except John) hurriedly dressed and ran to the Burke house across the street.  "Instead of making his escape or attempting to dress, Mr. Brosnan, who is about seventy years old, devoted his efforts to save a grand piano that was in the parlor where the floor was burning."

When firefighters arrived, they found Brosnan "dressed in a nightgown and an overcoat, trying to push the piano from the parlor into the hall," according to the New York Herald.  He was "in imminent danger of going with the instrument through the burning floor into the flames below," said The New York Times.  Despite his protest, the firefighters carried Brosnan through the waist-high snowdrifts to the Burke house.  

There, Catharine exclaimed that she had laid her diamond earrings on the dresser.  George Patterson, an underwriter who had arrived along with the firefighters, overheard this.  He ran into the burning house, found the jewelry, and brought it to Catharine.  When the blaze was extinguished, the New York Herald said, "The two upper floors of the house were badly damaged."  The New York Times reported the damages at $8,000 to the structure and $10,000 in furnishings.  (The total loss would translate to about $721,000 today.)

There was more significant collateral damage unknown at the time.  On March 7, 1899, the New York Herald wrote, "John Brosnan, an importer of wines and groceries who was widely known throughout the country, died on Saturday at his home, 146 West Seventy-fourth street, after an illness of two weeks."  His death was attributed to "shock and exposure to the cold on the night of February 13, when Mr. Brosnan's house was partially wrecked by fire."  Because of the fire damage to the house, Brosnan's funeral was held at the Church of the Blessed Sacrament on 71st Street and Broadway.

Francis X. Brosnan never remarried, nor did his sisters marry.  The women were active in society, however.  On February 3, 1907, for instance, the New York Herald reported, "Miss Angela Brosnan recently entertained the members of the Thursday Matinee Whist Club at her home, No. 146 West Seventy-fourth Street.  Miss Nora Costello won the prize for the best playing."

Like Mary J. Coar, who erected the Brosnan house, Mary and Angela Brosnan engaged in real estate operations.  They bought and rented properties singly or together throughout the first decades of the 20th century.  (Their sister, Loretto G. Brosnan, died on March 1, 1909.)  

On April 18, 1910, the New-York Tribune reported that Mary T. Brosnan leased her father's saloon from the estate.  She and Angela continued to wheel and deal in real estate.  On June 20, 1911, The New York Times reported that Mary had purchased a Christopher Street property for $6,500, and on April 24, 1912, the Board of Aldermen reported that the sisters had leased 22 Vandam Street "for the use of the Department of Health as a Tuberculosis Clinic."

 

A view of Brosnan's just before Prohibition closed it forever.  The Sun, February 2, 1919 (copyright expired)

In October 1919, Congress passed the Volstead Act, which would usher in Prohibition.  It meant the end of the venerable Brosnan's on Fulton Street.  The Brosnan siblings sold their lease on the property and newspapers throughout the city lamented the barroom's closing.  On March 7, 1920, The Sun remarked that Prohibition:

...wiped out Brosnan's saloon at 157 Fulton street.  Here, however, the heirs of old John Brosnan, who founded the business, were only too glad to accept the handsome price offered them by the bank for their lease on the property, for the Brosnan establishment was renowned for good whiskey and its mellow and potent old ale on draught.

Angela M. Brosnan died in the house on April 19, 1920.  Her funeral was held in the Church of the Blessed Sacrament on the 21st.  

Five years later, on November 7, 1925, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that 146 West 74th Street had been sold.  "It is the first sale of the parcel in 35 years," said the article.  The purchaser was another Irish native, John Carway.

Carway was the proprietor of two restaurants--the Dublin Club on the second floor of 149 East 42nd Street and The Dublin on 82nd Street and Amsterdam Avenue.  Only months after he purchased the former Brosnan house, on March 13, 1926, the Irish-American newspaper The Advocate reported, "A branch of the Dublin restaurant...has been opened at 146 West 74th street, under the name of the 'Dublin House."  The article said, "Both are under the management of Mr. Caraway [sic], a well-known Dublin man and caterer."  Carway's opening advertisement called the restaurant, "A rendezvous for gourmets; discriminating people appreciate exclusiveness."

On May 7, 1926, The New York Times said the Dublin House "occupies a dwelling.  Its patronage consists largely of the sporting element and theatrical people.  It is known as one of the 'high-class' eating places of Manhattan and has a large bar."  It was that large bar that got Carway into trouble.  A week before The Times' article, Government agents "seized $3,000 worth of liquor there," said the article.

The incident seems to have rehabilitated John Carway's operation.  At least for a time.  On April 1, 1932, The New York Times reported, "Another raid was made on the Dublin House, 146 West Seventy-fourth Street, a restaurant occupying three floors."  The Prohibition agents seized 75 bottles and arrested Carway and three waiters.

By 1943, 146 West 74th Street was operated as a rooming house.   When it was sold in September that year, The New York Times described it as a "remodeled rooming house."  It was purchased by Mary Mackay in May 1950.  She was the president of the newly formed 146 West 74th Street, Inc.

A renovation in 1972 resulted in duplex and triplex apartments.  Another remodeling, completed in 1988, added a penthouse level, unseen from the sidewalk.   Despite the unfortunate loss of the stained glass transoms and the Queen Anne upper floor sashes, the Brosnan house survives remarkably intact.

photographs by the author

The Michael and Rosa Wineburgh House - 25 West 76th Street

 

On February 9, 1895, the Real Estate Record & Guide described Cornelius W. Luyster as one of the few developers who built residences "for only the wealthiest and best classes of buyers."  The article went on to describe his three newly completed homes at 21 through 25 West 76th Street, designed by John H. Duncan.  Four stories tall, their basement through second floors were clad in Indiana limestone and the upper floors in buff-colored brick.  Duncan's chaste Renaissance Revival designs were described by the journal as "quiet, though handsome and dignified."

No. 25 is at the left.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, February 9, 1895 (copyright expired)

The western-most of the trio, 25 West 76th Street, was 25-feet-wide and cost Luyster $42,500 to construct--about $1.7 million in 2026.  Duncan's decorations were reserved and unobtrusive.  The doorway was framed in delicately carved foliate sheaves and the paired parlor windows wore a guilloche of intricate rosettes.

A band in a complex Greek key motif ran along the top of the second floor, where between the windows of the bowed bay a lion's head held a ribbon laden with groups of fruit.  The upper floor windows sat within molded architraves under molded cornices.  The copper terminal cornice wore a row of anthemions and lion masks, drawn from ancient Roman motifs.

Luyster had not scrimped on the interior details.  The Record & Guide described, "immense French plate glass mirrors in his hallways, where moderate and inferior ones would be found in other houses, and exquisite colored onyx tops on wash-bowls, where marble might have been used without prejudice."  The dining room was paneled in white mahogany "relieved with gold," and the fireplaces were "fronted with delicately-colored marble or onyx trimmed with silver or gold metal strips."  The article noted, "arrangements are made to cut off the servants from the rest of the family as much as possible."

Cornelius Luyster sold 25 West 76th Street to Michael Wineburgh on December 17, 1895.  He and his wife, Rosa, had one child, Dorothy.  

Wineburgh (whose surname would be confusingly spelled alternatively as Wineberg and Winburn) was an advertising executive.  He was out of town on business in March 1896, a few weeks after the house next door had been burglarized.  That crime had prompted Rosa to have many of the valuable items, like the sterling silverware, moved into an upper floor room.  But on the evening of March 15, Rosa hosted a reception "and a quantity of the silver was taken down to the first floor," explained the New-York Tribune.  "This was left on the sideboard over night."

The next morning Rosa went shopping.  While she was gone a policeman stopped by and the cook gave him a cup of coffee.  In the meantime, a crook was watching the house.  The New-York Tribune said, "The burglar doubtless waited for his opportunity, and, it is believed, that after the officer had drunk his coffee...the thief sneaked into the house and upstairs to the dining room."

Rosa returned home at noon and rang the bell.  She was surprised and terrified when a strange man opened the door.  He told her he was a police officer "and had come to investigate some trouble," reported the New-York Tribune.  Rosa tried to stop him, but he brushed by her and ran down the street towards Central Park.  The article said, "He was followed by two servant girls, screaming at the top of their voices."  One of the servants, Freda Lindaur, chased him all the way to the Central Park wall, then lost him.

The "audacious" burglar, as described by the newspaper, must have been quite an athlete.  As he raced away he was carrying a significant burden.  The article said that among the articles he stole were:

...a dozen oyster forks, with the initials "M. W." on the handles; a dozen coffee spoons, a pair of salad tongs, an almond tray and spoon, a soup ladle, five dinner forks, twelve pearl-handled knives and a varied collection of napkin rings, teaspoons and nut picks.

The crook had taken his time in choosing the loot.  Using acid, he tested the silverware and took only sterling pieces.

Four years after moving into 25 West 76th Street, Wineburgh added to his resume by incorporating the Omega Chemical Company with partner Bert M. Jones in January 1899.  The firm produced Omega Oil, a liniment.  An 1899 advertisement promised it "takes out soreness caused by hard work or hard exercise or hard pleasure."

Rather than spending the summer of 1901 in their Lakewood, New Jersey country home, Michael and Rosa sailed to Europe that year.  When they arrived back in New York on the White Star liner Majestic on September 4, 1901 they were stopped by a customs agent who noticed Rosa's necklace.  The New York Herald described the item as having "fifty or sixty pearls and valued at something like $4,000."  (The value would translate to about $156,000 today.)  The couple insisted that they had not purchased it abroad and was, in fact, a wedding present from Michael to Rosa on their wedding day 15 years ago.  The New York Herald noted, "She was wearing the necklace when she left the boat and made no attempt to conceal it."  

Nevertheless, The New York Times reported on September 7, "Collector Bidwell is holding a costly diamond [sic] necklace...pending an investigation of its history."  Michael Weinburgh was infuriated and Rosa humiliated.  Their attorney, Peter Zucker, told reporters, "Fortunately this is a case where we have ample proof, but it is too bad that a private citizen should be subjected to such publicity."  The New York Herald added, "The customs officers are inclined to think that the statement is correct and that the necklace will be released."

Like those of her neighbors, Rosa Weinburgh's entertainments were often elaborate.  On February 5, 1905, the New York Herald reported that she "recently entertained sixteen of her friends at luncheon.  The decorations for the day were orchids and white lilacs.  A string orchestra furnished music."

That luncheon was prepared by the Wineburghs' cook, Rosa Hahn, who was hired in 1896.  She was recognized by the German Housewives' Society at a luncheon on October 31, 1906 with a "golden bee," an emblem of industry.  Of the other 30 domestics awarded, she "headed the list with ten years' service in the home of Mrs. M. Weinberg," said the New-York Tribune.

Handan Welli would not be wearing a golden bee on her uniform.  The Turkish-born maid was hired by Rosa in Paris in July 1909.  Six months later, on the night of January 24, 1909, Handan returned home 45 minutes past her curfew.  Rosa Wineburgh fired her on the spot, but Handan refused to leave.

The New York Herald reported, "Policeman Loos induced the girl to go to the West Sixty-eighth street station without placing her under arrest."  Handan claimed that upon being hired, Rosa had agreed to pay her passage back to Paris.  "Mrs. Weinberg denied this assertion," said the article.  Handan Welli "finally went to the Leo Immigrants' Home, No. 6 State street, for the night."

Rosa was looking for a maid again in 1920.  Her advertisement in The New York Times on January 18 sought, "Lady's maid wanted; young woman between 25 and 30, Frenchwoman preferred, references required; good salary."

A succinct notice appeared in The New York Times on November 10, 1922:  "Winburn--Rosa, beloved wife of Michael Winburn and beloved mother of Dorothy, [died] in her 57th year, at her residence, 25 West 76th Street.  Funeral private."

A detail of the striking copper cornice.

Four months later, Michael Wineburgh sold 25 West 76th Street to James H. Cruikshank for $75,000 (about $1.4 million today).  In reporting the sale, The New York Times mentioned, "The seller has owned the above property since 1895."

The house was converted to upscale apartments.  Among the initial residents were the families of Dr. George Goodman and Henry Davidoff.

Charles Goodman received his medical degree from Western Reserve University School of Medicine in 1892.  The clinical professor of surgery at University and Bellevue Hospital Medical College, he and his wife had a daughter, Jane.  Like the Wineburghs before them, they spent time in the summer months away from the city.  On August 23, 1929, for instance, The New York Times announced, "Dr. and Mrs. Charles Goodman and Miss Jane Goodman have returned from the Adirondacks to their home, 25 West Seventy-sixth Street."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Henry Davidoff, a 1904 graduate of Columbia University, was a teacher in Stuyvesant High School.  He and his wife, Elizabeth (known as Bess), had a daughter Amy.  And like the Goodmans, they would remain at 25 West 76th Street well into the 1930s.

In 1925, the Davidoffs sailed to France.  Years later, The New York Evening Post would recall that the family met singer Paul Robeson there.  Amy was 11 years old at the time and, according to the newspaper, "Robeson felt an instant attraction for the little girl, and the little girl felt an immediate love for the singer.  Thus the two became inseparable companions during many months in Paris."

Music had been the catalyst for the strong platonic bond between the star and the girl.  Despite her youth, Amy had learned "at least a thousand songs in five languages and sang them beautifully," said The New York Evening Post.  She would sing German ballads, Yiddish folk songs and Gilbert and Sullivan songs to Robeson and he would sing spirituals and arias to her.  The newspaper said that Amy, "had the impudence to correct him in pronunciation and pitch."  Robeson called Amy his "songbird."

Back in America, Amy and her parents would attend Robeson's concerts and plays.  Eventually she attended the University of Wisconsin.  Then, in December 1935, she was stricken with an illness and was taken to a Madison, Wisconsin hospital.  Bess left 25 West 76th Street to be with her.  In the meantime, word was sent to Paul Robeson, who was in California.  He traveled the 2,000 miles, engaged a special nurse and a parlor car "on the fastest train" to New York, and hired specialists to attend to the young woman.  He postponed a concert to be near her.

Amy improved.  Bess told a reporter, "Something of Paul Robeson's vitality and strength seemed to flow into her...So Robeson left, happily, on January 11 for London."  As soon as the celebrated singer left, Amy began failing.  She died on January 24 at the age of 22.  Writing in The New York Post on January 28, Ernest L. Meyer began his article saying, "Part of Paul Robeson, the singer, was buried in New York on Sunday."

When 25 West 76th Street was sold in 1951, it was described as a "six-family house."  The configuration lasted until 2016 when a renovation returned it to a single-family home.

photograph by the author

The Theodore and Florence Sutro House - 320 West 102nd Street

 

image via streeteasy.com

Alonzo B. Kight began his career in 1891, acting as both real estate developer and architect.  The 1898 A History of Real Estate, Building and Architecture in New York City said that, perhaps, no other architect had "accomplished so much for the general appearance" of the Upper West Side.  The article noted that he worked "generally west of West End avenue."

In 1896, Kight filed plans for a trio of limestone-faced dwellings on West 102nd Street between Riverside and West End Avenues.  Like his other projects, the speculative homes would be targeted at wealthy owners.  The cost to construct each was projected at $25,000, or just under $990,000 in 2026.

The homes were completed in 1897.  Kight designed the 20-foot-wide American basement residences in the Renaissance Revival style.  (American basement plans forewent the high stoops of the waning English basement plan.)  Like its architectural siblings, the westernmost house, 320 West 102nd Street, was five stories tall.  A faceted, three-story bay provided a balcony to the fourth floor.  Balustraded faux balconies clung to the corners of the second floor and another fronted the center windows of the third.  The grouped and paired windows of the top two floors sat within molded surrounds.

When the Real Estate Record & Guide published this rendering on April 10, 1897, it noted that 320 West 102nd Street was "recently sold."  (copyright expired)

Attorney and financier Theodore B. Sutro and his wife, the former Florence Edith Clinton, purchased 320 West 102nd Street in March 1897.  The price, according to The New York Times, was "about $40,000."  (The figure would translate to about $1.6 million today.)  Born in Germany, Sutro was brought to America by his parents at the age of five.  He graduated from Harvard College in 1871 and from the Columbia Law School in 1873.  

Theodore Sutro, Schlegel's German-American Families in the United States, 1917 (copyright expired)

Florence Clinton Sutro, born in England in 1865, was (astonishingly for the period) also a lawyer, as well as an artist and accomplished musician.  A prodigy, she had won the $1,000 first prize for her piano playing of Franz Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 at the age of 12, and was the first woman to graduate with a doctorate of music from the Grand Conservatory of New York.  Her paintings were regularly exhibited at the National Academy of Design.  She graduated valedictorian of the 1891 class of the City College of New York where she received her law degree.  Two years prior to the Sutros' purchasing 320 West 102nd Street, she wrote Women in Music and Law.

Florence Clinton Sutro,  Schlegel's German-American Families in the United States, 1917 (copyright expired)

Florence Sutro's involvement with art and music interfered with her decorating of the new mansion.  On June 20, 1897, the New-York Tribune reported that the Music Teachers' National Association had established its first woman's department.  The association's president, Herbert Wilber Greene, asked Florence "to take charge of the new department."  The article said:

Mrs. Sutro, who was preparing to move into her beautiful new house at No. 320 West One-hundred-and-second-st., at first thought it would be impossible for her to undertake the work; but the request was repeated with such urgency that she consented, and is putting off the furnishing of her house as much as possible until afterward.

Of course, Florence did get around to furnishing the home.  It was soon filled with costly furniture and an impressive collection of art, including historic marine paintings by Edward Moran.

Two views of the foyer with its marble floor and groined ceiling.  images via Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Entertainments in the Sutro residence were frequent.  One early gathering was especially important for the couple.  On October 3, 1899, The New York Times reported, "Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Sutro celebrated their crystal wedding Sunday by giving an afternoon and evening reception."  The article said, "The gifts were numerous, and several hundred friends called to pay their respects to the couple."  

An article in The New York Times on April 22, 1900 announced that Florence had given her last "at home" for the winter season.  It gave a hint of the couple's recurrent entertaining.  "For the past seven months Mr. and Mrs. Sutro have been entertaining on Wednesdays.  Mrs. Sutro has given several small dances, and the young people of the upper west side have enjoyed these occasions."

The dining room (top) and breakfast room.   images via Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Florence's last at home (the days on which a socialite was available for receiving calls) that was mentioned in The New York Times article had everything to do with the end of the winter social season.  Like all wealthy New Yorkers, the Sutros left the city in the warm months.  At the end of the summer social season of 1901, for instance, The New York Press announced:

Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Sutro, after a sojourn in the maritime provinces of Canada, Bar Harbor, Rangeley Lakes, Poland Springs, Maine and Lenox, have returned to their city residence, No. 320 West 102d street, for the winter.

The Sutros were active patrons of the arts and every social gathering in their home had elaborate music.  On March 23, 1902, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported on Florence's recent at home, saying she "was assisted in a delightful musical programme by Giuseppe Aldo Randegger, Miss Tilden, Miss Beatrice Eberhard, Mrs. Ernest L. Thibault, Edard J. Calthrop, F. Howard Warner, John P. Boruff, Mrs. Silas G. Pratt and Lewis Williams."  The article was quick to point out, "This was not a special at home, but was one of Mrs. Sutro's regular days."

An informal sitting room.  Notice the handsome arched pocket doors in the background and the interesting wicker furniture.  The upright piano was one of several pianos throughout the house, including one in a guest room.   image via Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

As early as 1905, Theodore's unmarried niece, Edyth Martyn, lived with the Sutros.  In reporting on Florence's recent "delightful Washington's Birthday reception," the New-York Tribune remarked on February 26, 1905, "Mrs. Sutro was assisted in receiving by her husband and Miss Edyth Martyn."

The drawing room had a painted and stenciled ceiling.   image via Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

In September 1905, Florence became ill.  In January, Theodore took her to Hot Springs, Virginia "for the baths," according to The Evening World.  On February 12, the newspaper reported that she "lies dangerously ill in the John Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, to which she was taken...by Mr. Sutro yesterday to be operated upon for violent pleurisy."  Astonishingly, said the newspaper, "She has been operated upon four times to relieve her lungs of the accumulation of water, and is now very nearly exhausted."

Somewhat off topic, The Evening World noted, "Mr. and Mrs. Sutro have an ideal home...where Mrs. Sutro has entertained the famous men and women of two hemispheres."

Florence was brought back to 320 West 102nd Street where she died "of pleurisy and a complication of diseases" on April 27, 1906.  Newspapers filled columns with her achievements, her talents, and her numerous positions.

The funeral was held in the mansion on April 30.  The details had been planned by Florence herself five years earlier prior to an operation.  She had written in part, "it would be pleasant if I could contemplate a string orchestra, with an organ and a harp to play for the last obsequies, and that some living woman should sing a solo."  Her body was dressed in the "the gown Mrs. Sutro had worn as a bride," said the New-York Tribune.  Florence Sutro would be posthumously disappointed in one detail.  The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Sutro had desired that Miss Adele Rafter and Miss Emma Thursby should sing at her funeral, but they were unable to be present."

Edyth Martyn took over the duties of the mistress of her uncle's residence.  She became a heroine, as well, on the night of February 18, 1908.  The Evening World reported that a fire from an overturned lamp in Theodore Sutro's bedroom quickly grew.  When the flames "spread to the bedclothing, Miss Martin [sic] ran in, smothered the flaming sheets with blankets and carried water with which to completely extinguish the fire."

In 1912, Theodore Sutro was ready to walk away from his mansion and the magnificent artworks and furnishings he had accumulated with his wife.  The New York Times reported on March 17 that he intended to sell the house, giving "the purchaser the privilege of buying any part or all of the furnishings."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Instead, Sutro moved to 416 West 118th Street and leased the West 102nd Street mansion.  Franklin Haines and his family were his first tenants.  Born in 1862, Haines married Frances Way in 1885 and they had three children, Dallas Way, Marion, and Margaret Dallas.  Dallas Way Haines graduated from Columbia University in 1913.

The family was still here in October 1919 when Franklin and Frances announced Marion's engagement to Hewitt White Rundle.

Theodore Sutro continued to lease 320 West 102nd Street until his death at the age of 82 on August 28, 1927.  In reporting his demise, The New York Times described him as "one of the leading German-born citizens of New York."

The Alpearl Realty Company purchased 320 West 102nd Street in 1928 and leased it to Ladislaus Rogasky in 1929.  The house was sold a few times before Arthur Holland sold it in December 1946.  The New York Times remarked, "The new owner is altering the building into small apartments."

photograph by Deansfa

The first and second floors were converted to the Barbara Smith Nursery School, and the upper floors to one apartment each.  The configuration lasted until 2012 when 320 West 102nd Street was reconverted to a single family home.

The 1888 Edinboro - 203 West 103rd Street

 

Like the green patina'ed bands at the cornice and window pediment on 103rd, the black bays on Amsterdam Avenue were once clad in copper.  photo by Anthony Bellov

In August 1887, Edward L. Angell filed plans for a "six-story brick apartment house" at the northwest corner of 103rd Street and Tenth Avenue (renamed Amsterdam Avenue in 1890) for developer Charles A. Fuller.  Angell projected the construction costs at $65,000, or about $2.27 million in 2026.  

The neighborhood Fuller chose was known as Manhattan Valley.  On December 20, 1890, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted, "The first builder to erect a six-story flat in the neighborhood was Chas. A. Fuller."  Fuller dubbed his building the Edinboro.

Angell designed the structure in a blend of Queen Anne and Renaissance Revival styles.  His tripartite design was a study of mixed-media.  Faced in variegated beige brick, the Edinboro was trimmed in brownstone, sandstone, copper and terra cotta.  

On the avenue side were storefronts.  The residential entrance  at 203 West 103rd Street was uncompromisingly Renaissance Revival in style.  Sitting above a wide flight of steps, it was flanked by paneled pilasters capped with rows of anthemions.  They supported a heavy entablature elaborately carved with Renaissance inspired decorations.

The stonework has been painted and the entrance modernized with unsympathetic doors more expected in a public school building.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The 103rd Street elevation included a panel carved with a zig-zagging ribbon and surmounted by an arched, swag-filled pediment.  At the fifth floor were quilt-like panels of Queen Anne-style terra cotta tiles, and at the sixth a shield on a leafy background announced the construction date.  A large, ogee gable that rose from the sixth floor and interrupted the cornice was outlined with copper.

The Amsterdam Avenue side was distinguished by copper-clad bays.  Those on the third floor were fronted with blind balustrades and capped with Renaissance-style triangular pediments.  Angell designed the cornice as more of a parapet composed of a regimented table of brick-stepped corbels.

The ribbon design smacked of the letter M.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

Potential residents could choose from apartments of five, seven or eight rooms with a bath.  (There was a total of 26 apartments in the building.)  Tenants could patronize the restaurant in the building and rents were offered "with or without meals."  An advertisement boasted, "hot water, gas ranges, steam heat" and "uniformed service."  (The uniformed staff would have included the elevator operator and hall boys, available for doing errands like carrying packages, delivering mail and such.)  Rents ranged from $600 to $900 per year--about $2,000 to $3,000 a month today.

Among the residents in the 1890s were civil engineer Edward P. North, who was appointed Water Purveyor for the Department of Public Works in 1895; real estate broker John W. Stevens, who purchased his first Upper West Side property in 1854; and banker and stockbroker John W. Gilbough.

John W. Gilbough, King's Views of the New York Stock Exchange, 1898 (copyright expired)

Richard Spillane and his family lived in the Edinboro as early as 1903.  An editor, he and his wife had at least one daughter.  They worshiped at St. Agnes's Chapel on West 91st Street.  Robert J. Hudson was on the staff there.  The 53-year-old was described by The Evening World as "an evangelist and Bible class leader."  

In the spring of 1903, Spillane's daughter came home from Riverside Park with a horrific tale.  Robert Hudson routinely "gathered the little children around him and read them stories from the Bible," said The Evening World.  "He would then take liberties with the tots."  

Enraged, Spillane had Hudson arrested in April on charges of "accosting girls in Riverside Park and showing them indecent sketches."  Spillane also told other parents of the crimes.  On April 3, Hudson appeared in Magistrate Crane's private quarters.  Testifying against him were Richard Spillane and two other fathers, Dr. J. H. Prentice and R. C. Stannard.  Stannard had already made up his mind about Hudson's guilt, saying that if he "ever dared to show his face in the neighborhood again he would riddle him with bullets."

Hudson insisted he, "never did anything wrong in my life."  He told the magistrate, "I play ball with the boys and pat the girls on their heads."  When Magistrate Crane asked why he had been forced to leave Spencer, Massachusetts, Hudson explained that "Some malicious persons there said I was stealing hay."

Robert J. Hudson was tried in the Court of Special Sessions on April 14.  Richard Spillane was there to testify, as were four little girls ranging from eight to 12 years old.  Spillane said in part:

His character is bad for he told me himself he was driven from Spencer, Massachusetts.  He is the enemy of every child that frequents the Drive.  He told me he wouldn't blame me if I killed him.  The women wanted to hang him to a tree.

In his defense, Hudson insisted, "the most he was guilty of was a little indiscretion."  He pointed out, "All men are subject to indiscretions."  Justice Mayer did not agree.  He sentenced Hudson to eight months in the penitentiary.

Living in the Edinboro at the time of the scurrilous trial was professional whistler Alice J. Shaw, who, with three of her daughters, shared an apartment with her aunt, Harriet Goodhue.  Born Alice J. Horton in 1853, she divorced her husband, William Holland Shaw in 1888.  (Somewhat scandalously, on May 15, 1888 The New York Sun reported, "A report is in circulation that Mrs. Alice Shaw, the whistler, is to be married to the Hon. William F. Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill...Buffalo Bill, it may be added, is married.  Mrs. Shaw is, too, but is suing for a divorce.")

Alice was a celebrity.  Following her divorce she honed her talent of whistling.  By the time she and her daughters moved into the Edinboro, she had traveled the world, had performed for the Prince of Wales, and The Times-Union described her as being "well known throughout the country."

Alice J. Shaw, The Amusement Bulletin, October 19, 1889 (copyright expired)

Alice was sued by photographer Theodore C. Marceau for $143.09 in publicity photographs.  In  court on February 8, 1903, she was asked, "What are you?"  She answered, "I am an artist--a musical artist.  I am a professional whistler."

In the spring of 1907, another entertainer, actor Willard Hutchinson, moved into the Edinboro with his wife.  While the 29-year-old thespian was appearing in Toledo, Ohio in May that year, his valise was stolen.  Among the items inside were his new lease and business card.  The next week, sans valise, Hutchinson returned to New York.  In the meantime, the thief in Ohio was using his identity to pass bad checks.  On May 11, Hutchinson was arrested and jailed in The Tombs after Toledo police had sent a telegram with his information and a photograph.

In court the next morning, Hutchinson complained, "It's pretty hard luck for a fellow to be arrested and jailed because a crook swipes his suit case."  His "hard luck" worsened when he was told he would be held until the arrival of a Toledo detective "to see if he is the man wanted," reported the New York Herald on May 12.  Five days later, The New York Times reported that he had been dismissed, saying that the "picture and description of Hutchinson were not those of the man who had committed the fraud."

The Edinboro continued to attract upper-middle-class tenants, like civil engineer John Christian Ostrup and his wife, the former Mary Forbes Whyte, who were here as early as 1910.  Born in Denmark in 1864, he was educated at the Royal Cadet School in Copenhagen, received his Civil Engineering degree at the Polytechnic School in Copenhagen, and did post-graduate work at Chicago Engineering School.  In 1907 he was hired as Professor of Structural Engineering at the Stevens Institute of Technology in Hoboken.  He was, as well, a consulting engineer with offices at 17 Battery Place.

British Engineers and Allied Professions in the Twentieth Century 1910 (copyright expired)

Henry "Harry" Anderson was born in 1869.  He married Grace Irene Ryder in the Church of the Transfiguration on April 8, 1907.  An avid yachtsman, he became a member of the New York Athletic Club's yacht division in 1902 and later a member of the Larchmont Yacht Club.  

As a representative of the importing and exporting firm Roderick & Rumsey, Anderson traveled abroad regularly.  He was in London in March 1912 on business and booked passage home on the new luxury liner RMS Titanic.  Interestingly, while Grace did not accompany him on the trip, their dog did.  Somewhat surprisingly, Anderson was rescued by the RMS Carpathia following the Titanic's sinking.  (Unfortunately, his dog was not so lucky.)

Once aboard the Carpathia, Anderson attempted to telegram Grace, saying, "Safe aboard Carpathia.  Do not worry."  The wireless operator, however, was faced with a mountain of messages  and Andersons's was one of those that was not transmitted.  

Grace Anderson died at the age of 38 on June 9, 1915.  Harry Anderson was still living in the Edinboro as late as 1919.

In 1940 the copper bays on the Amsterdam Avenue side and the distinctive ogee gable on the side street were intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Stockbroker John L. Burness lived here in the early Depression years.  The bachelor maintained a country home in Sea Cliff, Long Island.  On Friday, June 21, 1935, he left 203 West 103rd Street to spend the weekend at the home of William Brown at Atlantic Beach, Long Island.  The men played golf at the Lido Country Club that afternoon.

The next morning, Brown went to his office in Rockville Centre.  Burness got up and, for some reason, went into the garage.  There, according to police, he got into an argument with a maid, 20-year-old Dorothea Kassady.  Later that morning, Burness's body was discovered in the garage.  "It was said death was due to carbon monoxide fumes," reported The New York Times.

But an autopsy revealed a blunt-force injury on the back of Burness's skull.  An investigation discovered that Dorothea Kassady quarreled with the 30-year-old "over money she said he owed her."  She hit him over the head with a hammer, then turned on the ignition of the Brown's automobile and closed the garage doors to stage his murder as carbon monoxide poisoning.

photo by Anthony Bellov

In 1948, 203 West 103rd Street was renovated.  There were now 42 apartments in the building--about twice as many as there were originally.  The tenants were still middle-class.  Among the residents in 1949 was Rafael Rio, a representative of the Puerto Rican Government.  Born in 1888, he relocated to New York City as a young man.  He held memberships to the Whitehall Club, the New York Athletic Club, the Pan-American Society and the Maritime Exchange.

Panels of terra cotta, Queen Anne-style tiles decorate the fifth floor.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1957, jazz saxophonist John William "Trane" Coltrane  and his wife, Naima, moved into an apartment here.  Naima (born Juanita Grubbs) was a Muslim convert and had a daughter, Antonia (later renamed Syeeda).  Coltrane later adopted her.

John William Coltrane, from the collection of the Library of Congress

Coltrane had been a part of Miles Davis's successful group, the First Great Quinet.  According to Ben Ratliff of The New York Times later, the group dissolved partly because of Coltrane's heroin addiction.  By the time he moved his family into 203 West 103rd Street, he had beaten his addiction.  In his Saxophone Colossus: The Life and Music of Sonny Rollins, Aiden Levy writes:

Coltrane invited [Freddie] Hubbard to practice with him at the apartment he shared with his wife, Naima, and his stepdaughter, Syeeda, at 203 West 103rd Street.  Coltrane was developing the "Coltrane changes" that culminated in "Giants Steps."

Hubbard later recalled, "I'd take the subway to Trane's house every day he was in town.  I had a headache when I left there because he was practicing so much."

The Coltranes left 203 West 103rd Street in 1959.  He is remembered today as one of the most influential figures in 20th century jazz music.

The top of the gable has been chopped off.  Happily, its copper outline survives.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

By the late 1970s, the striking ogee gable was decapitated.  Then, in 2017, plans were filed for "facade repair."  It was likely at this time that Edward L. Angell's distinctive copper bays were removed.  The changes greatly diluted what had been a highly unusual and attractive design.

many thanks to Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post