An Elegant Sore Thumb - No. 24 Water Street

By the first years of the 18th century the Fighting Cocks tavern operated at No. 24 Water Street--the street so named because the river bank was so close the road flooded at high tide.  Seamen and shopkeepers would drink ale here for decades before the building burned in 1776.

A commercial building replaced the tavern, and in 1844 Thomas Eaton operated his business here.  Patrick Austin helped himself to $50 in bills that summer, landing him in court.  The jury found him guilty on September 17 and he was sentenced to two years in the State Prison.

By 1862 Stephen D. Herrick and John Wakeman ran their produce business from No. 28 Water Street.  Their business was apparently successful enough that in 1862 Herrick began construction of a modern, cast iron-fronted building two doors away at No. 24.  Completed the following year, it had nothing in common with its brick-faced neighbors, most constructed in the 1820s and '30s.  It wore its refined neo-Classical elements--swags and wreaths, and paneled pilasters, for instance--like a tuxedo among the work clothes of longshoremen.

It appears Herrick constructed the building for investment purposes.  As late as 1870 Herrick & Wakeman was still listed at No. 28 Water Street.  It would house firms related to the shipping or grocer industry for decades; with one possible exception of The New-York Hollowware Company which called No. 24 home in the 1890s.

That firm narrowly skirted financial disaster when Paul Brigham was arrested on January 10, 1896.  The Indianapolis Journal reported that Brigham, "alias George Watson, alias Charles J. Bartlett, alias David Coleman, alias 'the General,'" was "one of the oldest and most notorious swindlers in the United States."

Brigham's modus operandi was to approach a successful firm and express interest in investing $50,000.  The con man relied on his victims' greed--his offer would equal about $1.46 million today--to blind them to his intentions.  And because, as the Journal pointed out, "he was well dressed, had plenty of money, and presented excellent letters of recommendation," he seemed to be on the level.  But his slick talking eventually ended with his making off with money, rather than giving up any of his own.

He simultaneously worked his scheme late in 1895 on four New York City companies--the carpet and rug firm of White & Spate, jewelers Theodore Kohn & Son, the legal firm of Hadley, Lauterbach & Johnson, and the New-York Hollowware Company.  He had already collected "considerable sums" from some of his victims when one of the principals of White & Spate became suspicious and caused prompted the investigation which brought Brigham down.

In 1913 the building was owned by James O'Donnell.  He leased it that year to The Aspell Co., wholesale grocers and ship chandlers.  Headed by J. Whalen Aspell and Louis E. Field, it would remain for several years.

Five years earlier a rather remarkable restoration of the building behind No. 24 had taken place.  American interest in historic sites was almost entirely limited to battlefields or, in some cases, the homes of important military or political figures--like Mount Vernon.   But in 1894 Fraunces Tavern, caught the attention of the Daughters of the American Revolution.

George Washington had made his farewell address to his troops in the building, and it was that connection that sparked interest.  By the turn of the century the Sons of the Revolution had joined the effort to restore and preserve the property, which was dedicated with great fanfare on December 4, 1907.

But the Sons of the Revolution were not done yet.  Not only did the group announce that it intended "to undertake the preservation of the place" in 1920, it had already begun accumulating surrounding property to prevent incongruous development.   The Sons of the Revolution had already purchased the building at Broad and Pearl Streets.  On February 14 the New-York Tribune reported that the group intended "to acquire additional property adjacent to Fraunces' Tavern" and "have made a contract for the acquisition of 24 Water Street for $45,000."

The new ownership brought no immediate effect.  The building continued to be leased to various waterfront companies.  In 1922 the Irish-American Line moved its new passenger offices in; and in 1926 ship chandlers James W. Cunningham & Co. was here.

The Depression years saw a change in the tenant list.   Although Turret Products Co. sold marine-related items--like the "Ship's Speaker" offered in 1930 ("a distinctly nautical radio loud speaker in polished brass" that "combines quality and charm"); Savoy Distilleries opened a liquor store in 1933, while Art Studio Warehouse had space upstairs--a decidedly seedy operation.

Joseph Smith, his brother Vincent, and Maxim Montgomery ran the Art Studio Warehouse, along with the Treat 'Em Right Publishing Company nearby at No. 2 Stone Street.  Their operation drew the attention of the Society for the Prevention of Vice and the New York Police Department in the spring of 1934.

The three were arrested and "two tons of alleged obscene literature were seized with 400 copper plates" in a raid on the two locations on April 9.  The New York Times reported "The confiscated matter consisted of 4,600 books selling form $5 to $25" and that the trio was charged with vending obscene literature.  Two days later the men were held on $500 bail awaiting their court date.

Mostly because of the foresight of the Sons of the Revolution, the block defined by Water Street, Pearl Street, Broad Street and Coenties Slip escaped further development.  And when the Uris Corporation began illegal demolition of five properties in 1974 for a parking lot, the Sons of the Revolution partnered with the New York Landmarks Conservancy to take the first steps in the creation of the full-block Fraunces Tavern Historic District.

A missing capital at street level (above) received a cast iron reproduction in 2015 as part of the restoration.  photo via Frances Tavern Museum

No. 24 Water Street is now the Porterhouse Restaurant, part of the Fraunces Tavern Museum complex.  In 2015 the Sons of the Revolution undertook a restoration of the deteriorating cast iron facade.  Rather than cut corners by reproducing lost or damaged elements in fiberglass, contractor JEPOL Construction commissioned Catskills Castings to create molds from surviving details and make new cast iron elements.

The restored structure, with its gleaming coat of white paint, is once again just a little haughtier that its red and brown brick neighbors.

photographs by the author

The West End Exchange - No. 169 West 74th Street

Like several firms, Lamb & Rich sometimes acted not only as the architects, but the developers as the new Upper West Side suburb took form.  Among the projects Hugh Lamb and Charles Alonzo Rich took on were the nine upscale homes that wrapped the northwest corner of West 74th Street and 10th Avenue (later renamed Amsterdam Avenue) in 1886.

The charming Queen Anne row was clad in brick and trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta.  The irregular roofline was a mountainscape of dormers and gables shingled in blue-gray slate tiles.  Stealing the spotlight was the corner house at No 169 West 74th Street.  It boasted openings framed in terra cotta with regimented fleur de lis decoration; a wide terra cotta frieze, and a storybook end gable with arched windows (one with an eye-catching bowed sill) and crosshatch design executed in brick.

The Sanitary Engineer reported on March 11, 1886, that each of the dwellings cost "about $14,000," in the neighborhood of $365,000 today.  No. 169, larger than the others and with sunlight on two sides, would have demanded a higher end cost than its neighbors.

The late 19th century saw the rise of a movement of self-help and independence for women.  Settlement houses held classes that trained indigent women in skills--like needlework--to augment their families' incomes.  Other groups provided an outlet for women to sell their homemade goods.

Among the latter was the West End Exchange and Industrial Union, organized in March 1896, with the goal to "instruct, encourage and aid women to self-support."  The exchange started at No. 380 Amsterdam Avenue, at the corner of 78th Street; but, as What Women Can Earn noted in 1898, "The work of the Exchange increased rapidly from the start."  That rapid increase demanded larger space.

In 1899 the Exchange relocated to No. 169 West 74th Street.  Women who brought their goods to the Exchange to be sold received "prompt weekly payments."  They were charged a $3 annual fee and a commission of 10 percent.

What Women Can Earn explained "The work is divided into several departments...In the domestic department are always to be found fresh bread and rolls, a great variety of home-make cakes, pie, preserves, candy and delicacies for the sick, all carefully prepared and submitted to the Approval Committee before being offered for sale."  The Fancy Work department offered hand-painted china, "tally and menu cards," embroidery, infants' and children's' clothing, and other handwork.

The blank scar above the top floor windows on the 74th Street elevation would have sported a terra cotta frieze of swirling vines and shields like the surviving example on the avenue.

The Exchange doubled as an employment bureau, where "trustworthy servants" could be interviewed by prospective employers.  The applicants were thoroughly pre-screened and their references checked by the Exchange. The entire neighborhood was invited to use the free circulating library in the building.

As the Christmas season of 1903 approached, The New York Times reminded shoppers to stop by the Exchange.  "In the domestic department are always to be found excellent home-made bread, rolls, cakes, table dainties, and delicacies for the sick.  In the fancy work department almost everything in the line of women's work is display.  The assortment of Christmas goods promises to be very fine." 
By now the number of managers had risen from its original 15 to 25.

The West End Exchange and Industrial Union had added another department, as well.  According to The New York Charities Directory, there was now "a Bureau of Information where the addresses of teachers, dressmakers, trained nurses, hairdressers, and other branches of women's work may be obtained."

A tortured but nonetheless surviving doorway at 305 Amsterdam Avenue reveals what the entrance to No. 169 looked like.

The Exchange relied on donations and benefit events to maintain operations.  On December 28, 1913, for instance, the New-York Tribune announced "A special matinee of 'Prunella' will be given at the Booth Theatre, 45th street...under the auspices of the junior auxiliary of the West End Exchange, No. 169 West 74th street, which is maintained to aid self-supporting women."

In the meantime, upper rooms were leased as extra income.   Louise Fowler Parker had her studio in the building in 1913.  She advertised herself as "teacher of singing in all its branches."

By the end of World War I women had made enormous strides in the workplace.  Department stores, millinery shops, and restaurants hired female employees; and business offices--once impenetrable male domains--now saw women "typewriters" (later termed secretaries), receptionists and telephone operators.   It was no longer necessary to bake pies or knit booties to make a living.

The West End Exchange and Industrial Union found itself suddenly irrelevant.  On May 3, 1920 the New York Herald announced that the Exchange "closed its doors on Saturday because increasing prosperity among some classes of persons has made a certain kind of charitable effort in New York unnecessary."


The house was purchased by sisters Catherine and Bee Mulligan of the Charlotte Cafeteria.  Within a month of the Exchange moving out, Ida C. Bailey Allen, "editor, lecturer and writer," rented the entire building for Mrs. Allen's School of Good Cookery.   The New-York Tribune, on May 28, advised "The building will be extensively altered to contain an auditorium, lecture room, demonstrating rooms, offices and apartments, with large electric display sign on the roof."

Mrs. Allen was, perhaps, a bit over-ambitious in her endeavor.  New-York Tribune July 13, 1920 (copyright expired)

Mrs. Allen's School offered ten week courses of one class per week.  The Friday morning class, for instance,  was Fancy Cookery.  It covered "the making of appetizers, entrees, fish and meat dishes, salads, desserts, pastries, legs, cakes, garnishing, &c."  At the Wednesday morning classes students studied "Every Day Cookery Dressed Up."  It was marketed as "All sorts of new angles on old dishes; basic recipes will be taught covering soups, meats, meat substitutes, vegetables, salads, desserts, cakes, pastry, &c."

Ida Allen's extensive renovations may have been responsible for rapid failure of her school.  Auctioneer C. E. Smith advertised the entire contents of No. 169 West 74th Street at public auction on July 15, 1921.  Everything from the typewriters in the office, the "porcelain topped kitchen tables" in the classrooms, to the brass bedsteads in the upstairs apartments were sold.  The advertisement noted "Immediate Removal."

A renovation to the building was completed in 1923; and the upper floors were rented as makeshift apartments.  They drew some questionable tenants during the Depression years.

Max Weisbaum lived here in 1936.   He and 19 of his cronies, including one woman, were arrested on April 27 that year for making and selling metal slugs.  Undercover detectives had followed the crooks for two weeks gathering evidence.  The New York Times explained that their racket had cost the New York Telephone Company, a restaurant chain and three subway systems "about $400,000 through the use of metal slugs in coin boxes" during the preceding year.

The fake nickels were favorites for use in the subway and the Horn & Hardart automat restaurants.  According to detectives, the slugs were sold "at 75 to 85 cents a pound, with the nickel imitations at a ratio of six for five cents."

Nicholas Karter lived in the building at the time.  When the Beauty Shop Union went on strike in October that year, Karter was on the picket lines in front of Marion's Beauty Parlor on East 170th Street.  Workers were demanding a 44-hour week, a $30 minimum weekly wage for men, $22.50 for women, and a week's paid vacation.

Striking union workers in the first decades of the 20th century were often violent.  So when Patrolman Joseph Leonhard tried to limit the picketers in front of Marion's Beauty Parlor to one at a time on October 21, Nicholas Karter responded by striking and kicking the officer.  He was arrested and held on $500 bail awaiting a hearing two weeks later.

Much of the row along 74th Street has been altered to the point of unrecognizable.

In 1942 No. 169 West 74th Street was converted to two apartments per floor above two stores on street level.  At some point the terra cotta frieze was lost, as were the handsome slate shingles.  Despite the abuse, the quaint house with its delightfully mismatched windows on the avenue and its prominent dormer on West 74th Street still commands attention.

photographs by the author

The Lost "Mark Twain House" - No. 21 Fifth Avenue

 

In 1935 when Berenice Abbott took this photograph, No. 21 (left) was wondrously intact, as was the former home of Dr. Edward L. Partridge, next door at No. 19.  photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

When Henry Brevoort, Jr. made plans for a new mansion around 1831 he understandably focused on the exclusive Bond Street neighborhood.  But his father, Hendrik Brevoort, had other ideas.  He insisted that Henry built much further to the west, on Fifth Avenue above Washington Square.

The land was part of Brevoort's "farm."  The sprawling estate had been owned by the family since 1667.  There were no homes on the unpaved avenue and Washington Square was in the early stages of development. Henry begrudgingly agreed, building a lavish residence at the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 9th Street, completed in 1834.  A family member later remarked that he "felt very much in the woods and quite out of it."  Unknown to Brevoort, he was setting the tone for Fifth Avenue for generations to come.

Two years after Henry's home was completed, his father deeded the land diagonally across the avenue to Henry's sister, Margaret Ann.  She was married to James Renwick, who was professor of chemistry and "natural philosophy," at Columbia College, as well as an architect and engineer.  The couple had three sons, James Jr., Edward and Henry.  All, predictably, studied at Columbia.

James Renwick, Jr., entered the school at the age of 12, graduating with a degree in engineering.  In 1843 the 25-year old received the commission to design the masterful Gothic Revival Grace Church, the site of which, too, was on his grandfather's farm.  Henrik Brevoort had died in 1841 and Henry Brevoort soon after sold the plot to the church.


Around 1850 Renwick turned his attention to designing his parents' home.  Completed in 1851 (according to The New York Times decades later, "the first one on the block") it generally took the Italianate form so popular at the time.  Yet Renwick, who was highly influential in popularizing Gothic Revival in the United States, splashed the house with Gothic touches.  The cast iron fence around the property was of an elaborate, spiky Gothic design; in rather shocking contrast to the Italianate iron balcony fronting the parlor.

The Gothic drip moldings which crowned the arched openings were nearly identical to those he used on his 1846 design for the Smithsonian Institution Building in Washington; as were the Romanesque clustered colonettes of the entrance.  Toothy brick sills below the second floor front windows and an intricate brick corbel table below the roof line carried on the Gothic motif.

Henry Brevoort and James Renwick, Sr. shared an intimate friend in Washington Irving.  The author was a regular guest in the Brevoort mansion, and was James Renwick's traveling companion on several European trips.  When James Renwick, Jr. designed No. 21 Fifth Avenue, he included "the middle room on the second floor" as Irving's bedroom when he was in town.

The New York Times later mentioned "the rooms are of stately proportions."  But while their son gained national recognition and the Brevoorts across the street gave some of the grandest entertainments of the era; James and Margaret Renwick lived and hosted quietly in the sumptuous home.

Also living in the house was eldest son, Henry Brevoort Renwick and his wife.  He complicated social directories when he married Margaret Janney.  The couple further tangled things when they named their son, born in the Fifth Avenue house in 1856, James Armstrong Renwick.  The snarl of Margarets, Jameses, and Henrys would confuse for decades.

By the time James Armstrong Renwick graduated from Columbia University in 1876, the family had left No. 21 Fifth Avenue.  It was being leased to W. B. Girard and his wife, who operated it as a boarding house.  One boarder, with the initials J. B., was looking for a job in September 1875.  He placed an advertisement in The New York Herald which read "A young single man wishes a situation as coachman; best city reference."

Notably similar was the ad placed by "Thomas," on May 3 the following year.  "Coachman--Thoroughly experienced; city or country; best references."

The Girards operated another property for those seeking relief of Manhattan's stifling summer heat.  On May 18, 1877 they advertised "Country Board--One hour from Jersey City; mountain air; picturesque scenery; trout fishing; good roads; beautiful grove adjoining the house; a lake within half mile and pleasant drive to Greenwood Lake."  Before noting "For particulars inquire of Mrs. Gerard [sic]," the advertisement promised "no chills nor mosquitoes."

It appears that Mrs. Girard stayed in the city to manage the Fifth Avenue house, while her husband handled the Jersey property.  As the season drew to a close, they lowered the country prices.  "Few pleasant rooms; First Class table; reduced rates balance of season; boating,fishing, fine drives and mountain air.  Call W. B. Girard, Pompton Junction, N. J., or 21 5th av."

The area continued to be an exclusive one.  Among the neighbors were wealthy attorney William Starr Miller, Robert B. Roosevelt. Edwards Pierrepont, Andrew C. Kingsland, the De Rham family (relatives of the Brevoorts who now lived in the Brevoort mansion), former Mayor Edward Cooper, and John D. Crimmins.

The upscale tone of the boarding house was slightly soiled when General Nicholas Cassina took a suite of rooms in July 1878.  He had disappeared from the Hotel Brunswick after being charged with the abduction and seduction of Emma Collins.  Her father, Patrick, hired a private detective who discovered him here.

The wealthy defendant appeared in court impeccably dressed.  The New York Times reported that he wore "a black cut-away coat, white vest, and light pantaloons.  He carried a heavy silver-headed cane in one hand, and in the other a fan."  The judge dismissed the case of abduction; however pursued the charge of having spoiled the young girl after promises of marriage.

Also boarding in the house around this time were vocal coach Max Maretzek, who announced on December 28, 1879 that he would resume instruction "after January 5;" and Cuban-born civil engineer Antonio Aguirre.

By the turn of the century No. 21 Fifth Avenue had returned to a single-family home.  It was being leased by the sister of retired merchant Theodore W. Hewitt.  Hewitt had been the "confidential man" of millionaire dry goods merchant Alexander Tunney Stewart, for many years.  Following Stewart's death he became associated with several major dry goods emporiums throughout the country--including James H. Walker of Chicago and Dresser & Co. on Greene Street in New York. Hewitt was only 53 years old in 1900; but he had stopped working as his health failed.  He moved in with his sister, who apparently cared for him.

Directly across the avenue, at No. 20, the Berkeley House hotel had been erected in 1876 by William C. Rhinelander.  On January 14, 1902 Hewitt and his sister were "stepping across the avenue to see friends" there, according to The Times, when a hired brougham was pulling up to the curb.  Hewitt was struck by the pole of the carriage and knocked to the pavement.  He was carried back to No. 21 suffering scalp wounds and shock.  Dr. Edward L. Partridge, who lived next door at No. 19, was summoned.  In the meantime, Sterling Fletcher, the driver of the cab, was arrested. 

The mansion would be the scene of Theodore Hewitt's funeral 10 months later.  He died in the house on November 7.  Miss Hewitt left No. 21 shortly afterward.

The house was leased to attorney William A. Walling, son of the former Superintendent of Police and brother of police Sgt. Edward Walling in 1903.  It was in 1904, however, that No. 21 would get its most celebrated resident.

On August 18 The New York Times reported that "Samuel L. Clemens, 'Mark Twain,' has taken a lease of the four-story brick and stone dwelling."  The article noted "He will occupy it early in the Fall."

The delay had to do with the refurbishing of the mansion.  Twain's daughter, Clara Clemens, spent months redecorating.  According to biographer Laura Skandera Trombley in her Mark Twain's Other Woman, Clemens's live-in secretary, Isabel Lyon, wrote "This house is...nicely oldish--with gothic adornments over the doorways & windows on the main floor.  When it shall be finished--weeks hence--it will be harmonious."

The relationship between Clara, and Isabel was uneasy at best.  Clara felt that running the household, including instructing--and disciplining--the staff was her responsibility.  Isabel disagreed.

No. 21 Fifth Avenue was ready for Clemens's arrival in the fall of 1905.  Five days before he arrived, Isabel did.  And Clara was waiting.  Her deceased mother had always insisted that Isabel not live with the family and now Clara enforced the old rule, telling the secretary she would have to find other accommodations.  Her victory, however, was short-lived.  When Clemens arrived he ordered Isabel back--mollifying Clara by telling her she had sole rule over the staff.

Clemens added his own touch to the decor when he ordered an Aeolian Orchestrelle, an early player organ also known as a telharmonium, in 1906.  Its immense size was such that it had to be housed in the basement and the music transferred upstairs by speakers.  He told friends that "the first thing he did in 1907 was to glory in the fact that he would be able to rejoice over other dead people when he died in having been the first man to have telharmonium music turned on in his house--'like gas.'"

Biographer Albert Paine said "He believed that he would play it himself when he needed the comfort of harmony, and that [daughter] Jean, who had not received musical training, or his secretary could also play to him."

A steady stream of visitors came and went while Clemens lived in the house.  Clara held her own as far as entertainments went.  On New Year's Eve 1906 a party was given in Clara's honor; but it was her father who stole the attention.

While the guests were playing a game of charades at around 11:30, Clemens entered the drawing room in his customary white suit with another man, identically dressed.  Their coats were fastened together and they held their arms around one another.  Clemens introduced the man as his Siamese brother.

Clemens then went into what today would be called a stand-up routine.  He professed to be a temperance reformer and preached to the guests on the evils of alcohol.  All the while his "brother" sneaked swigs from a flask, getting Clemens more and more inebriated.  By the end of the act, his partner's drinking had made the temperance man falling-down drunk.

"Glorious work--we doin' glorious-work-glori-o-u-s work.  Best work ever done, my brother and work of reform, reform work, glorious work.  I don' feel jus' right."

The guests, according to The Times, were "hysterical with laughter," which "became so great that it was impossible for the old man to carry on the little farce any longer, and in a few minutes the Telharmonium music...was turned on and it was playing 'Auld Lang Syne' when the New Year was ushered in."

Clara's entertainments were normally less boisterous.  An accomplished vocalist, her gatherings often centered around music.  On the evening of February 12, 1908, for instance, she gave a musical for "a large number of friends," during which Boston violinist Marie Nichols and Clara performed.

Although one room doubled as library and study, the aging Clemens did his writing in bed, not appearing downstairs before 11:00.  His biographer, Albert Bigelow Paine, noted that he liked his ornate headboard so much that he slept with his pillows at the foot of the bed, so he could always admire it.

One of the letters written in that bed was sent to Andrew Carnegie in Scotland on February 10, 1906.  The thank-you note for the case of scotch the industrialist had sent dripped with Mark Twain humor.

Dear St. Andrew--The whisky arrived in due course from over the water; last week one bottle of it was extracted from the wood and inserted into me, on the instalment [sic] plan, with this result; that I believe it to be the best, smoothest whisky now on the planet.

That year Albert Paine arrived at the house to start on Clemens biography.  The two had recently discussed the concept at a dinner party.  Paine later wrote "The house at 21 Fifth Avenue, built by the architect who had designed Grace Church, had a distinctly ecclesiastical suggestion about its windows, and was of fine and stately proportions within.  It was a proper residence for a venerable author and a sage, and with the handsome Hartford furnishings distributed through it, made a distinctly suitable setting for Mark Twain."

Paine was given a key to the house so he could come and go on his own schedule.  He would sit in Clemens's bedroom in the mornings asking questions, while his stenographer took notes.  In the afternoons Paine would take over the study to work on the manuscript.  The result was a four-volume set, Mark Twain, a Biography; The Personal and Literary Life of Samuel Langhorne Clemens.

Paine had a country home in Redding, Connecticut and during the summer months Clemens would visit as they continued work on the book.  Taken with the beautiful countryside, in 1907 Clemens purchased 195 acres of land there.  He commissioned John Mead Howells, son of the editor of Harper's, William Howells, to design his villa, Stormfield, named after the title character of his story "Captain Stormfield."
 
The house was completed in 1908 and the Clemens family, including of course Isabel Lyon, left No. 21 Fifth Avenue.  Clara had been traveling with friends in Europe that summer and her return was accompanied by whispers of romance.  "With the party is Charles Wark of New York, whose engagement to Miss Clemens has been rumored," said The Times.

Her father came from Redding to meet the ship.  Although The Times reported on September 8 "At the present time the only furniture remaining in the Fifth Avenue house is a small table for the cards of visitor, some chairs, a rug on the drawing room floor, and a few pictures on the walls...With the aid of the few furnishings left in the house Miss Clemens will give a reception at the old house on the evening of her arrival."  The article added "It has been suggested that her engagement will be announced at that time."

The mansion had already been leased to Dr. Robert J. Kahn for five years.  In the basement was one of Clemens's favorite rooms, where he had played billiards for hours.  The table had been presented to him soon after he moved in.  The Times mentioned "Mr. Clemens's billiard room will become the physician's consulting room, while the top floor, where Mr. Clemens had his study and library, will be given over to servants."

Following World War I the lower Fifth Avenue neighborhood was being taken over by apartment buildings as the millionaire homeowners moved far north, along Central Park.  But Edward Renwick Whittingham insisted to reporters that No. 21 would not be torn down, not as long as he was alive.  On August 10, 1924 The Times wrote "Mr. Whittingham's property, a part of the old Brevoort farm, has been longer in the hands of one family than any other in New York--250 years.  The young lawyer feels that it would be almost a sacrilege to let it go."

The Greenwich Village Historical Society agreed.  The following year in June it affixed a bronze plaque to the side wall.  Bas relief images of Washington Irving and Mark Twain, as occupants, were depicted and the name of James Renwick, Jr., as architect, was included.

The 1925 plaque is affixed to the side of the house in this photo.  Note the elaborate inner doorway and the inward-opening multi-paned windows.  photograph via the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation

But change was inevitable.  In 1925, the same year the plaque was unveiled, the house was converted to apartments.  And in 1929, after leasing the house from Whittingham, the newly-organized Washington Square National Bank announced its plans to renovate the mansion into a commercial structure.  Backlash was immediate.


The Greenwich Village Historical Society and the Washington Square Association went to court to stop the alterations.  In the meantime, Edward Renwick Whittingham had changed his tune regarding sacrilege.  "I cannot say just what will be done," he told reporters.  "If the court decides that the bank cannot use the property, I will probably be forced to tear the old house down and erect something that will bring in a fair return on the value of the property."

Associate Architects John D. Boyd and F. B. & A. Ware released the proposed alterations in July 1929. (copyright expired)

The proposed alterations did not come to pass and the former mansion continued life as an apartment building.  Whittingham, however, apparently had not exaggerated his financial straits.  In July 1933 the house was sold in foreclosure proceedings.

Interest in preserving the historic building continued for decades.  In 1935 "an army of small boys," some dressed as Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn, marched up Fifth Avenue in an attempt to sway Mayor La Guardia to purchased the house as a memorial to Mark Twain.  In March that year a poster contest was held among city art classes to celebrant Twain's 90th birthday.  Among the judges was illustrator Albertina Randall Whelan, who coincidentally lived at No. 21 Fifth Avenue.

In 1945 Josephine Barry created this charming sketch of the vintage house.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In January 1954 those hoping to preserve the historic house were jolted when plans for an 18-story apartment building by developers Sam Minskoff & Sons on the site were announced.  Two weeks before demolition the Greenwich Village Chamber of Commerce expressed hopes to raise $70,000 to move the building and establish it as the Greenwich Village Historical Museum.  Stanley D. Josephson, secretary of the organization, was confident that the money would be raised through public donations in time.

Josephson was over-optimistic.  On February 18 The New York Times reported that exactly $3 had been contributed--one dollar each from three female employees of Time magazine.  The Greenwich Village Chamber of Commerce announced it had given up on saving the structure.

Hope came from overseas when British film producer Ronald Neame pledged $10,000.  He even boarded the Queen Elizabeth to sail to New York to help in the cause.  Unfortunately, despite the foreign support, New Yorkers did not respond.  The historic residence was razed in the spring of 1954 along with its neighbors.

photo via streeteasy.com

The Brevoort apartment house engulfed the block, including the site of No. 21.  Designed by Boak & Raad and completed in 1955, it survives.

The F. W. Woolworth Stables -- No. 121 East 83rd Street

John H. Scheel lived in the three-story brownstone house at No. 121 East 83rd Street in the 1890s.  He was treasurer of the Yorkville Dispensary and Hospital for Women and Children.  The charity institution was "confined to the Dispensary for treatment of poor women and children only."

Around the turn of the century the house was converted as the headquarters of the Shawnee Club.  A Democratic political group, The New York Times on December 16, 1901 said it "represents Tammany power" in the district.

Scheel evicted his tenants when they stopped paying rent in October 1902.  But it appears to have been a mutual arrangement.  The Sun reported "Myer J. Stein said last night that the club quit paying rent in October at the request of the landlord, John Shields [sic], in order that the lease, which would have run to Feb 15, might be broken, as the property was to be sold."

The buyers were developers Evans & Buscall, who planned an upscale private carriage house on the site.  The block by now was filling with the private stables of Fifth Avenue millionaires.  In November Hamilton & Mesereau filed plans for a "3-story brick stable" costing $33,000--in the neighborhood of $940,000 today.

The office J. A. Hamilton and W. H. Mesereau was far downtown at No. 32 Broadway.  Mesereau was a structural engineer as well as architect.  Theirs was an intriguing partnership; apparently working independently as often as together as Hamilton & Mesereau.

A year earlier C. P. H. Gilbert had designed Frank W. Woolworth's new mansion at northeast corner of Fifth Avenue and 80th Street.  Construction on what Bankers Magazine deemed "one of the notably fine houses in that center of wealth and fashion" was completed just prior to the 83rd Street carriage house.

On July 21, 1903 The New York Times reported that Evans & Buscal had sold "the new three-story private stable" to Woolworth, noting that the price had been set at $50,000--a substantial $1.4 million in today's dollars.

While technically three stories, the carriage house rose to nearly the equivalent of four.  A half-story loft above the ground floor added to the height.  Hamilton & Mesereau had produced an extremely handsome edifice faced in Flemish-bond variegated brick.  The gray and tan headers contrasted with the red length-wise bricks.  Splayed limestone lintels and double-keystones reflected the neo-Federal motif; while carved panels of floral swags and a wreath and bow in the tympanum over the carriage bay were elegant neo-Classical touches.  The unusual triangular brackets upholding the cornice were a dramatic addition.


Woolworth's impressive fleet of vehicles and expensive horses were housed on ground level.  Behind the elegant structure would have been a much less appealing but necessary feature--the manure pit.  It was the odors (with the accompanying problem of flies) and the bothersome noises of stables that brought about "stable blocks" where there were few, if any, residences.

On the two upper floors the mogul's most important stable employees lived.  The main coachman and the groom are the most likely candidates.  In many cases the entire families of the employees resided in comfortable accommodations (discounting, of course, the manure stench).

By the time Woolworth died on April 8, 1919, the carriage house was already being leased to Murry Guggenheim.  Horses had given way to automobiles by now, and he had renovations done to the building that year, converting it to a garage for "not more than five cars."  Building Department records reveal that the top floor was to be used as a "dwelling for one employee."

A year after Woolworth's death, on April 22, 1920, the first of the auctions of his massive real estate holdings was held.  But three months earlier, the 83rd Street garage was sold separately to what the New-York Tribune, on January 13, described as "a well known businessman residing on Fifth Avenue."  That businessman was Murry Guggenheim.

He was the third of eight sons of Meyer Guggenheim.  Meyer's was a Horatio Alger-worthy story.  The Jewish immigrant arrived from Switzerland in 1847, starting out as an itinerant peddler.  When get-rich-quick prospectors headed West for gold and silver, Guggenheim invested in copper mines in Colorado.  Mining and smelting of copper, silver, lead and gold made the Guggenheim family's fortune one of the largest in 19th century America.

Murry Guggenheim and his wife, the former Leonie Bernheim, had two children, Edmond and Lucille.  Their mansion was at No. 998 Fifth Avenue at 81st Street, conveniently near the carriage house.

Throughout the years Murry and Leonie supported extensive charities.  In 1929 they formed the Murry and Leonie Guggenheim Foundation which built and maintained a dental clinic for indigent school children.  In 1921 he and his brothers donated $1 million for a private pavilion at Mount Sinai Hospital, and earlier he gave the hospital its first motor-driven ambulance.  He and his brother David presented the Central Display Greenhouse to the New York Botanical Gardens in 1919.

Following David Guggenheim's death in 1930 Murry became the head of Guggenheim Brothers.  He steadfastly went to his office at No. 120 Broadway every day until Friday, November 10, 1939 when, at the age of 81, he became ill.  He died five days later.

Guggenheim's estate was appraised at nearly $19 million and papers listed gifts from 1917 until his death at about $16 million.  His will bequeathed to Leonie the Fifth Avenue mansion, "his household and personal effects," property in Colorado, and "real property at 121 East Eighty-third Street."

The Guggenheim family continued to use the private garage for years.  Then, in 1965, the ground floor and "mezzanine" were converted to a photographic studio and the upper floors to a duplex apartment.  A subsequent renovation in 1996 turned the photography studio into medical offices.

Today the Woolworth carriage house is one of only a handful which survive on the former stable block.  Its stylish 1903 facade reminds the passerby of the elegant housing the horses of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens enjoyed in the early years of the last century.

photographs by the author

Bon-Bons, Butter and Dish Drainers - No. 154 Chambers St.

 Thomas Suffern, a retired linen merchant, had become highly involved in real estate development by the late 1850s.  Where brick or wooden houses had stood in Lower Manhattan, he built modern stone-faced commercial buildings.

The family of Benjamin Stagg, Jr., principal in Benjamin Stagg & Co., lived at No. 154 Chambers Street, between West Broadway and Greenwich Street in the 1830s.  As well-to-do families moved further north, the residence was being operated as a high-end boarding house by 1852.  That year an advertisement appeared in The New York Herald offering "Board, at 154 Chambers Street--A Pleasant well furnished room, suitable for two gentlemen.  Also, a fine parlor on second floor, which, if parties desire, will be rented unfurnished.  The house is well kept, has fine pantries, baths, &c."

The boarding house would not survived much longer.  By 1860 Thomas Suffern had demolished it and replaced it with a five story Italianate style commercial building.  As with most such structures appearing throughout the area, it featured a cast iron storefront with fluted Corinthian columns.  The  elliptical arched openings of the upper floors were highlighted by carved eyebrows; and their stone sills sat on delicate brackets.  The building was crowned by a modillioned Italianate cornice with two leafy side brackets.

E. H. Hanford & Co. was among the first tenants in the new building, doing business here in 1860.  Dealers and manufacturers of home furnishings, it had provided "looking-glasses" to Sing Sing Prison in 1858.  The $18 price tag would be equal to about $535 today.

In 1865 the ground floor was vacant.  An advertisement in The New York Herald announced "To let--Store--A large store, with splendid, well lighted Office, in one of the best localities in Chambers street."

The transformation of the neighborhood from residential to commercial was fueled by the construction of East River Railroad Company's freight terminal at the end of the Civil War.   The area around No. 154 drew butter-and-egg, produce, and similar businesses.

In the mid 1870s Belt & Cilley, butter and cheese merchants, operated here; joined by John S. Hawley & Co., candy makers, by 1879.  John Savage Hawley had already had a diverse career.  Born in Charlton, New York in 1838, he was educated in public schools.  In 1859 he joined his brother's "fancy-goods" business in Texas.  A Yankee with pro-Northern sympathies, he was forced to escape through Mexico during the Civil War.

He reappeared as a clerk in a Virginia City, Nevada silver mining company, made a fortune in the lumber business (and later losing it), and invented a cob-lined smoking pipe while in the West.  In 1870 he moved to New York City, joining the confectionery firm of Wallace & Company.  Candy making did not squelch his inventive propensities and in 1874 he invented the "elastic force cup" for clearing plumbing--what today we call the plunger.

A whimsical trade card depicted a wrapped candy so large it required a wheel-barrow.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Most likely using the profits from his invention he opened his own confectionery factory and store in 1875.  Hawley's partner was Herman W. Hoops and eventually the firm name would become Hawley & Hoops, famous for its patented "chocolate candy segars," its "old fashioned licorice" and a score of other sweet delights like "Union Cream bon-bons" and "Flat Wintergreen Creams."  The firm would remain in the building until the early 1880s.

Quite unlike the chocolate cigars offered by Hawley & Hoops, George K. Davis sold "liquors" in the ground floor space in 1886.  Within the decade, at least by 1886, another butter and egg firm, Gude Brothers, was doing business in the building.

Dealing in dairy products required cold storage--something not so easily found in the city in the summer of 1899.  So when Henry N. Peters hooked a massive fish in the Long Island Sound, Gude Brothers offered its coolers to show off the prize.

On August 22 The New York Times reported "The largest striped bass reported as having been caught this season along the Sound is now on exhibition at the cold-storage rooms of Gude Brothers...The fish weighed thirty-three pounds when caught, and in its present state tips the beam at thirty-one and one-half pounds."

It had taken Peters about 20 minutes to land the finny beast.  The newspaper added "The fish will be stuffed and mounted this week."

A tenant unusual for the district was R. R. Marie Roofing Company, in the building by 1903.  The burgeoning interest in Mediterranean Revival and Spanish Revival architecture prompted the company to issue a booklet that year informing contractors on "in detail the best way of laying [tile] roofs."

While Hawley & Hoops had been making candy here, another confectioner, Alexander M. Powell had operated from Nos. 150-152 next door.  In August 1904 he leased the entire building at No. 154 from the Thomas Suffern estate.   Once again the aromas of chocolate and peppermint wafted from the building.  Alexander M. Powell remained until 1909 when its new building at the corner of Canal and Sullivan Streets was completed.

The J. M. Sherwood Co. leased the upper floors in 1914.  Dealers and manufacturers in home goods and appliances, it offered the latest in domestic ranges to American housewives.  In 1916 it patented what, like John Hawley's plunger, would become a household must-have.

On October 8 the New-York Tribune reported on the invention.  "Dishes may not only be rinsed, but dried, in the Sherwood Dish Drainer.  This is quite according to the most approved methods of dish drying, for the dish towel is no longer an important member of society.  A special rack is provided for the plates, with a basket for the silver, and there is still space for the rest of the dishes."

A simple sketch appeared in a German language magazine in 1918.  Deutsch-Amerika, February 9, 1918 (copyright expired)

The wire rack and galvanized pan retailed for 75 cents.  It was hailed throughout the country and marketed in Europe.  With only minor changes to J. M. Sherwood's design, the dish drainer is still sold today.

The Suffern estate sold No. 154 Chamber Street after about six decades of ownership in December 1919.  The tradition of candy still held on in the form of a candy store at street level.  On September 17 the following year, the owner placed an advertisement seeking "Saleslady--Experienced, for confectionery store; good pay; no Sunday."

As mid-century approached, the Superior Typewriter Company occupied space in the building.  Police were baffled in February 1948 by a string of burglaries.  The crooks specialized in safe cracking; but were unusual in their methods.  Police told reporters "the gang seldom used weapons or burglar tools, performing their safe-opening with implements found at the scenes of the robberies."

On the night of February 16 the burglars forced open the skylight at No. 154 Chambers and dropped into the Superior Typewriter offices.  They snatched $50 in cash, several typewriters and eight bottles of rye whisky.

They then crossed the roof to Nos. 150-152 and looted eight offices there.  While there the steely-nerved crooks stopped to have dinner.  "When they were through the floors were covered with tuna fish cans, whisky bottles and safes--all empty," reported The New York Times the following day.

A week later police had the gang in custody--their identities shocking.  The criminals ranged in age from 14 to 18 years old.  The Times was most fascinated with the youngest, running the headline "14-Year-Old 'Giant' Held in Burglaries."

Two of the boys had already been held in a state reform school.  The over-sized 14-year old, whose identity could not be released because of his age, was described as "6 feet tall and weighting between 180 and 190 pounds."  Detectives said he "did all the heavy work."  The boys had been busy.  They were accused of "at least thirteen burglaries and safe-cracking jobs" during the last few months.

Like many loft buildings in the area, as Tribeca once again changed in the last quarter of the 20th century, No. 154 was converted to residential space above the ground floor.  In 2015 a subsequent renovation resulted in one apartment each on the three uppermost floors, and office space on the second.

The cast iron storefront has been abused over the years and its Corinthian capitals have been lost.  And upstairs an ill-advised coat of cream-colored paint covers the stone facade.  Yet with only a little imagination the passerby can imagine bowler-wearing businessmen coming and going through its doors.

photographs by the author

Furs, Motorcars and Bootleg Liquor -- Nos. 165-167 Mercer Street

In the 1870s developer James Kent was keeping Henry Ferbach, busy.  In 1870, for instance, the architect simultaneously designed cast iron structures for Kent at Nos. 137-139 Mercer Street and and at Nos. 136-138 Greene Street a block away.  In 1872 the pair collaborated on another five-story cast iron fronted building on Union Square.

The Mercer Street site had been well-known to New Yorkers for decades.  In the 1840s John S. Roulstone operated his riding school here.  With true Victorian decorum, Roulstone maintained strict separation of male and female instruction.

An advertisement in The Anglo American on February 7, 1846 laid out the hours--ladies were taught between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m.; men from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m.  "No Gentlemen admitted during the hours appropriated to Ladies."  The ad noted that gentlemen who boarded their horses here "will have the privilege of riding them in the school gratis."

The New York Herald, April 13, 1845 (copyright expired)

The school was gone by 1862 when it was operated as a boarding stables, run by Horace Jones.  Following his death it became the Butler's Livery Stables.  The high-end tone of the operation was evidenced in an 1865 advertisement in The New York Herald.  A trotter being boarded here was offered for sale, described as "a splendid brown Stallion, sired by Flying Cloud, warranted to trot in 2:45 in harness.  Pedigree and particulars at the office."

An advertisement in September 1868 offered "good stalls for boarding horses at Butler's Livery Stables, the most central location in the city."

By now the district just below Houston Street had caught the attention of developers like James Kent.  Old houses and stores were being rapidly demolished and replaced by modern iron-fronted commercial structures.  In September 1870 Henry Ferbach filed plans for "one five-story and basement first-class iron store" on the site of Butler's Livery Stables.

The handsome structure was completed in 1871.  The facade of the fifty-foot wide building had much in common with the dozens of others appearing throughout the neighborhood.  Fluted Corinthian columns dignified the store front; while projecting cornices above separated each of the nearly-identical floors.  An Italianate cast iron modillioned cornice crowned the design.

By the time the Department of Buildings checked the safety features of the building in 1873, it was owned by E. W. Rachan.  Described by the satisfied inspectors as a "factory," they noted its "fire escape and ladder to roof."  Rachan was highly active in the neighborhood, owning and operating several properties.

The Mercer and Greene Street area was quickly becoming the center of Manhattan's fur trade and by 1881 J. & A. Boskowitz had moved into the building from No. 38 Mercer Street, where they had operated for years.   The following year it was joined by another hide and fur company, Joseph Ullman & Co.  At the same time Mercer Street was renumbered and the building became Nos. 165-167.

Joseph Ullman had immigrated from France to New Orleans in 1851.  He traveled north to Minnesota where fur trapping was widespread, opening a hide business in St. Paul in 1854.  In 1866 he opened a Chicago office, and two years later one in New York.  By the time the firm moved into the Mercer Street building Joseph was living in Leipzig, running the branch there, and his son Samuel was heading the New York business.

Both Joseph Ullman & Co. and J. & A. Boskowitz were making fortunes in buffalo hides.  Between 1876 and 1884 the latter company paid $923,070 for buffalo skins ($24 million in today's dollars); and in 1882 alone Joseph Ullman & Co. spent $216,250.  The pelts of the magnificent animals were being made, mostly, into the heavy buffalo robes that kept passengers in carriages and coaches warm.

The demand caused unchecked massacre of the buffalo population, so that by 1885 the business had dwindled to next to nothing because the animal had been driven to near extinction.  In 1887 Joseph Ullman & Co. reported its buffalo hide figures for the past seven years.

In 1881 the firm purchased 14,000 hides and 12,000 robes; the following year that number rose to between 35,000 and 40,000 hides, although the number of robes dropped to 10,000.  The numbers quickly dropped as, according to Joseph Ullman himself, "thousands upon thousands of buffaloes were killed for the sake of the hide alone, while the carcasses were left to rot on the open plain."

Buffalo hunters were paid $3 each for a cow's hide, $2.50 for a bull's, $1.50 for a yearling and 75 cents for a calf's hide.  In 1885 there were essentially no buffalo left to slaughter.  Joseph Ullman reported "In 1885 the collection of hides amounted to little or nothing."

The 1887 Annual Report of the Smithsonian Institution noted that J. & A. Boskowitz and Joseph Ullman & Co. were the two largest dealers in buffalo hides in the U.S.  Both firms had cooperated in the Institution's study on the near extinction of the animals.

By now, according to the 1886 History of Chicago, Joseph Ullman & Co. was "probably the largest fur house in America, handling over three million dollars' worth of furs annually."  Although J. & A. Boskowitz was soon gone, Ullman & Co. would remain at 165-167 Mercer Street at least until 1919.

An advertisement showed Ullman & Co.'s several branch locations as well as its array of skins.  Fur Trade Review, February 1900 (copyright expired)

In February 1895 P. Schulang leased a loft in the building.  Unlike Boskowitz or Ullman, the firm was a "manufacturing furrier."  Rather than sell pelts and hides, it fashioned them into coats, jackets and other apparel. 

Early in 1905 the fur district was plagued by bold burglars who struck in mid-day.  Among the nearly two dozen firms victimized was Joseph Ullman & Co.  On June 13 the New-York Tribune explained "The method which has been used with so much success, is for two men to enter a store at noon, when most of the employes are at luncheon.  One talks to the clerk, while the other, who carries a large satchel, fills it with valuable skins."

The scheme was finally foiled when, after making off with $12,000 in furs within six months, the crooks attempted to rob the wholesale fur operation of Edgar Lehman.  They were caught in the act when one "was too greedy and stuffed the bag so full of furs that he was unable to close it."  The men fled, chased by the employees.  The Tribune reported "one of the miscreants was caught.  The other escaped, and the police are trying to find him."

Although authorities were certain the two were responsible for all the thefts, Joseph Ullman & Co. and the other firms were concerned.  "The victims are afraid that it will be impossible to convict the present prisoner on more than one charge, but are hoping for the capture of the confederate."

By now apparel firms other than furriers were moving into the building.  One was the Diamond Waist Company, manufacturers of "waists," the most popular item of feminine apparel at the time.  It was owned and operated by the Triangle Waist Company, the headquarters of which were in the Asch Building near Washington Square.

A fire broke out in the Diamond Waist Company's loft on April 12, 1907.   It was quickly extinguished, but, in retrospect, was a disturbing foreshadowing of the tragic Triangle Shirt Waist fire five years later.

The same year of the Diamond Waist fire, another tenant, H. Damsky, maker of hosiery, purchased the building.  The manufacturer was already operating its store from the ground floor and basement.  In 1911 the firm pleaded guilty to two counts of violating the child labor laws and was fined $40.

Following World War I the garment and furrier districts moved uptown.  On May 21, 1925 The New York Times reported that the Witkin Garage Realty Corporation had purchased the Mercer Street building, and had commissioned architect Murray Klein "for the purpose of making extensive alterations for its conversion into an entirely fireproof garage."

The Mercer-Houston Garage would be the haunt of crime and gangsters in the Depression and Prohibition years.  On July 18, 1935 police officer Henry J. Mensing arrested two men with a truckload of merchandise which they stole from the garage.

But most shocking was the bootleg ring that was busted here in 1939.  Gangster Joseph "Black Lefty" Lapadura ran the liquor syndicate from here.  The FBI set up surveillance of the building from across the street.  The garage was raided on October 16 and Lapadura and nine other men were arrested.  United States Attorney John T. Cahill called it the "largest bootleg ring since prohibition" and suggested that more than 100 more arrested might be made.  The ring operated half a dozen stills in New York and New Jersey and distributed 2,000 gallons of grain alcohol daily.

The FBI released a surveillance photo from the opposite side of Mercer Street in 1939.  photo via The SoHo Memory Project

The New York Times reported "The garage raided yesterday was an old-fashioned, five-story building, close to East Houston Street.  On the ground and upper floors private automobiles and trucks were stored, but the basement was given over entirely to the activities of the ring."

The Feds seized two trucks and several automobiles which had been used for the delivery of alcohol.  "The trucks were large, ordinary-looking vehicles, ostensibly used by a grocery house," said The Times.  "The burlap sacks and paper cartons they contained, however, actually were camouflage for the five-gallon tins used invariably in the illicit alcohol trade."

Business in the Mercer Street garage was less dramatic throughout the rest of the century and into the 21st as the Soho neighborhood was reinvented as a center of art and boutiques.  In September 2016 the Landmarks Preservation Commission approved changes which would convert the garage into offices with retail space at ground level.  A penthouse level, set back 10 feet from the cornice, will be invisible from the street.  Somewhat sadly, the nostalgic neon blade sign GARAGE will be removed in the renovations.

photographs by the author

The "Berler Houses" - Nos. 809-811 Riverside Drive

The sidewalk cascades dramatically down to West 158th Street.

In the years following the end of World War I the rowhouses of the Audubon Park neighborhood were rapidly being demolished and replaced by modern apartment buildings.  But Charles Siegel Levy and Nathan Berler had a different idea.

Levy, an attorney, and Berler, a principal in the apparel manufacturing firm of Baren, Lehman & Berler, were convinced there was a market for two-family homes in the area.  At the point where Riverside Drive and West 158th Street came together was a sharp triangular plot of land.  The two men created Bertley Holding Corporation (a not-so-subtle composite of their names) and in June 1920 purchased the wedge of real estate.

They commissioned architects Moore & Landsiedel to design an upscale home intended to be the model for a series of residences that never came to pass.  Fred W. Moore and Frank L. Landsiedel produced two handsome homes which successfully pretended to be a single Mediterranean villa.  Constructed at a cost of $70,000 (just under $1 million today) they boasted "completed electrical equipment" and garages below the homes, accessed on West 158th Street.

The houses each contained 11 rooms, including the large solaria at either end.  The Mediterranean Revival style structure, with its red brick and deep green tiled roof, was splashed with occasional Arts & Crafts touches, like the stained glass transoms in the shallow, projecting bay at the rear of No. 811.

Even in its neglected condition, the rear bay is charming.

Perhaps the reason that Bertley Holding Corporation's grand plans for similar homes never went forward was a break-up in the partnership.  The New York Times commented on the newly-completed houses in February 1922.  Charles S. Levy's name was not mentioned.  Instead, the article gave the entire credit to Nathan Berler; going so far as to say "It proved so successful that Mr. Berler now occupies the south half of the house himself and found no difficulty in selling the north half."

In fact, Berler had not sold No. 811.  His next door neighbor was his former partner, Charles S. Levy and his family.


Nathan and Sadie Berler were married on November 2, 1913 and moved into No. 809 with their three year old daughter, Lucille Marsha.  On the evening of New Year's Day, 1922 they hosted what The American Hebrew deemed "the first house warming in their newly completed residence."

Their family increased by one on August 29 that year when Marten Arnold was born.  At least one servant lived with the Berlers.

Two years after moving into No. 809 Nathan Berler (now head of the Enesbe Realty Corporation) started construction of the abutting apartment building at No. 807.  He instructed the architect, George F. Pelham, to design it to be architecturally harmonious with the two houses.

In 1930 the Berler family moved into No. 807, leasing No. 809 to Louis Robison.  In reporting on the deal, The New York Times mentioned, "The house, which was built only seven years ago, contains at $25,000 organ and a garage.  It receives heat and hot water from 807 Riverside Drive, the adjoining apartment house, also owned by Mr. Berler."

Robison was a principal in the cotton and rayon yarn trading company L. Robison Co., with partner Lawrence Lindner.  He served as treasurer of the Federation of American Zionists.   Robison and his wife were no doubt thrilled when daughter Hannah won a State scholarship to Cornell University in 1931.  The result of a competitive examination, the scholarship reduced tuition to $100 per year.

In the meantime, the Levy family was still in No. 811.  The family had three sons, Walter, Howard and Lawrence.  As Lawrence and Howard went on to Harvard, Walter was still studying at the Horace Mann School in 1927.  He was among the group of 100 boys to traveled to Denmark that year, a trip arranged by the Rotary Club and the American Club of Copenhagen.

But the Levy family would also endure tragedy in 1927.  On February 11 Charles was driving along East 152nd Street at the same time that 4-year old Jeremiah Mulcahy was playing in front of his home.  The automobile struck the boy, who died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.  The following day The Times reported "Levy was also directed to appear at the Bronx Homicide Court this morning."

The Levy family remained in No. 811 at least through 1937.  In 1942 the house was sold to Dr. Luigi Capobianco.  It was assessed at the time at $22,000.  Capobianco moved his family into the house.  Although the Capobianco family was still in the house as late as 1952, it was converted to apartments, one per floor, around mid-century.

No. 809, meanwhile, had seen a series of tenants.  Following the Robison family came Louis Berkowitz in 1934, Aurelia Smart in 1939, and when her five-year lease expired the house was purchased by Adele R. Harlowe.  Adele leased rooms, apparently, and in 1947 one of her tenants was biologist Jewel Plummer Cobb.  Recognized today as an African American pioneer in medicine, her research on cancer cells led to major advances in chemotherapy.

Original details survive throughout No. 809.  photo via Corcoran Group

When No. 809 was listed in 2010, it's 1921 interiors were amazingly intact.  The new owners initiated a restoration that included replacement windows, most of which were faithful copies of the originals.  The sympathetic facelift accentuated the fact--for perhaps the first time in nearly a century--that the villa is actually two homes.

The laudable restoration stopped short of reproducing the diamond-paned foyer windows or its quarter-round transom. 

photographs by the author