Rutgers Presbyterian Church - 236 West 73rd Street

photo by Jim.henderson

By the 18^th century the Dutch Rutgers family had established itself in Manhattan with a large estate north of the city and a fine mansion.  Henry Rutgers survived service in the Revolutionary War to enter a life of public service and distinguish the family name with his generous philanthropies.  One of these would result in the change of the name of Queens College to Rutgers College.

A devout man, in 1798 he donated land to a Presbyterian congregation at what would become the corner of Henry and Rutgers Streets.   It was known as the Rutgers Street Church, or more familiarly “The kirk on Rutgers Farm,” and opened its doors for worship on May 13, 1798.  

In 1888, after three previous moves, the Rutgers Presbyterian Church congregation acquired a large lot at the southwest corner of Broadway and 73rd Street and hired architect R. H. Robertson to design a forceful Romanesque Revival church on the site.  The substantial structure cost $240,500 to construct--more than $6.5 million today.

A stereopticon slide shows the R. H. Robertson church with newly-planted trees.  Streetcar tracks run up Broadway.  

Thirty years after the building was completed the property on which it sat had become extremely valuable.  On the northwest corner was the imposing Ansonia Apartments and Broadway bustled with activity.  The New York Times noted in November 1921 "The six lots there were purchased for $93,700.  Today the property is worth approximately $1,000,000."

On December 6, 1919 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide announced "The Rutgers Presbyterian Church property...has been purchased by Sheriff David H. Knott and Henry J. Veitch, president of the Hotel St. Andrew Co., as a site for a 14-story hotel to cost about $3,000,000."

The architectural and building firm Fred F. French Company was contracted to design and erect the 500-room hotel; but then things faltered.  When the Rutgers Presbyterian congregation celebrated its 125th anniversary in November 1921, it was still in the corner church.

With the hotel project defunct, in July 1922 the trustees leased the vacant plot abutting the church to the real estate firm of Wood, Dolson Co., In. for $12,500 per year as the site of its new headquarters.  "The architecture of the new structure will conform with the church building," announced the Record & Guide.

As 1923 drew to a close the trustees of Rutgers Presbyterian Church thought they had found a solution to getting the most value from their property--a skyscraper church.  The concept was becoming popular in large cities.  Church buildings were being demolished to be replaced with apartment or office buildings which retained space for the religious organization.

On December 13, 1923 The Hudson Valley Times wrote "Rutgers Presbyterian Church on Broadway at 73rd Street is to be remodeled.  The lower floors will be occupied by a branch bank.  The church will have he upper part and will gain an income of $25,000 a year to help bear the cost of its program."  

But that plan, too, never came to fruition.  Instead the church leased the corner plot jointly to Wood, Dodson & Co. and the United States Mortgage and Trust Company; while retaining for itself a rear portion of the property for a new, smaller building.  The cornerstone was laid in February 14, 1925 "in the presence of several hundred parishioners and a number of distinguished clergymen," according to The Hancock Herald.

Within the cornerstone were placed documents relating to church calendars, ministers, photographs of the exterior and interior of the old church, a copy of the leases for the corner site, and related papers.  The article noted "The cornerstone weighed two and one-half tons."

The trustees had hired Henry Otis Chapman to design its new home.  Construction was completed early in 1926 and the dedication ceremonies took place on March 21.  Chapman's red brick and limestone sanctuary and church house were a 1920's take on English Gothic and, in the case of the church house, neo-Tudor.  

The entrance doors were slightly recessed within an elliptical arch; its width was carried on to the three pointed-arched stained glass windows directly above.  Limestone was used on either side of the gable to create grouped, blind Gothic arches that simulated towers.

The American Architect & Building News, December 5, 1926 (copyright expired)

Inside Gothic co-existed with the waning Arts & Crafts movement.  The oak elements--pews, pulpit, railings, and such--were carved with Gothic arches and trefoils and sat upon a pavement of Arts & Crafts mottled tiles.  Worshipers accustomed to R. H. Robertson's highly-decorated sanctuary now found plain plastered walls free of frescoes or nearly any other ornamentation.

The American Architect & Building News, December 5, 1926 (copyright expired)

Three years later the country was overwhelmed by the onslaught of the Great Depression.  Political and social issues often made their way to the pulpits of Manhattan churches and in 1934 the Rev. Daniel Russell gave his opinion of Franklin D. Roosevelt's National Recovery Administration to the congregation of Rutgers Presbyterian.

On July 19 the Stamford Mirror-Recorder reported that he "told his congregation that the N.R.A., far from bringing the masses any relief, had in fact reduced even further their living standards.  He said that he would render no greater service from the pulpit than to point out to the wage earner that a planned economy offers but little hope, in the long run, but rather blasts his chances for independence, prosperity and the good life."

With tensions building in Europe the issue of war and education was addressed in the church in January 1936.  A conference of "peace educators" concluded "The trouble about peace education along idealistic lines is that it rests so largely on emotion appeal, a psychological factor which can never be trusted in the excitement and alarm of an impending war," as reported by the Buffalo Courier-Express on January 19.  "The war-makers are past masters in the treatment of mass psychology when popular ideals are all too easily confused."

A situation that would bring nationwide press began the following year when the church held a contest among artists for a 26-foot-wide, 35-foot-high mural for the unadorned rear chancel wall.  The design of well-known muralist Alfred D. Crimi won the $6,800 commission for his Spreading the Gospel.

Crimi worked on the mural for two years.  Upon its unveiling on November 20, 1938 the pastor, Dr. Daniel Russell, described it as a picture of "the human Christ, whose muscles have hardened with the toil of rude and heavy tools in a primitive carpenter shop."  A large number of the female members disagreed, finding it disturbing to look at the muscular naked torso of Christ throughout the service.

Late in the summer of 1946 Crimi was in Manhattan and dropped into Rutgers Presbyterian Church to visit his work.  The Rome [New York] Sentinel reported "he was horrified to find that it had been blotted out by the church authorities."  That mural had been erased by a thick coating of white paint.

"It was explained by the Rev. Dr. Ralph W. Key, the pastor, that members of the congregation felt the central figure of Christ 'portrayed physical rather than spiritual strength--they just didn't like it and when the church was redecorated the mural was included in the plans."

The offending Spreading the Gospel. New York Post, March 11, 1947 

Incensed and indignant, Crimi went to court for damages.  He admitted to reporters that while "he could not legally force the church to restore the mural, he would attempt to force the issue on moral grounds.

Crimi's case was interesting.  He said the church had replaced his mural with "an undignified burial shroud" and asked the courts to "protect his honor and reputation." (And grant him $50,000 as well.)  To do so attorneys and a judge would have to decide if such a thing as "moral ownership" existed.

It didn't.

After dragging on for years, the courts ruled on January 29, 1949 that "when the picture has been painted and delivered to the patron and paid for by him, the artist has no right whatever left in it."

In the meantime an annual occurrence at Rutgers Presbyterian Church, going back to around 1929, was the two-day Interdenominational Missions Training Institute.  Each year's gathering had a theme.  With World War II raging in 1941 the sessions focused on "Democracy at Home and the Old Order Round the Globe."

Independent schools and small colleges routinely used the auditoriums of churches for their graduation ceremonies.  By the 1960's Rutgers Presbyterian was the annual venue for the commencement exercises of the American Academy-McAllister Institute of Funeral Service in New York--perhaps less expected than the more common beauty institutes and industrial schools that filled New York churches at graduation time.

In 2013 a restoration was initiated by Rand Engineering & Architecture, DPC.  The all-inclusive project replaced the roof, repaired the masonry and restored the stained glass rose window, executed by G. Owen Bonawit.  While in overall good shape, the glass was dirty and some panes were cracked.

photograph via LandmarkWest!

While work is still necessary on the other windows, the restoration brought the facade of the Rutgers Presbyterian Church back to its 1926 appearance.

The Lost Anthony Post House - 76th Street at the East River

photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In the first half of the 19th century Anthony Post was a director of the Phoenix Bank, one of the city's principal financial institutions.  His enchanting Italianate-style summer house sat on extensive grounds and was surrounded by landscaped gardens girded by a prim white fence.  The estate sat at the edge of the East River and stretched approximately from what, still on paper, was East 76th and 84th Streets.

The New York and Harlem Railroad had been extended along what would be named Park Avenue in 1837, making travel to the rural district more convenient.  Post's wooden villa was constructed a few years later, around 1840.  

The simple residence stressed charm over grandeur.   Two stories tall and three bays wide, its wide veranda sat above a high porch--no doubt a defense against spring flooding.  A deeply overhanging cornice supported the shallow hip roof.   At the western elevation was a glass conservatory.  The architect added the romantic touch of diamond-paned windows throughout.

The three sets of French doors provided cooling breezes to the interiors.  photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

As most wealthy families did, Anthony and Mary Post brought servants from their city house each season.  As the summer drew to a close in 1858 Mary Post discovered some of her jewelry--worth nearly $63,000 by today's standards--was missing.  On November 1 The New York Herald wrote "Suspicion rested upon the servant girls, Isabella Kenny and Letitia White, and after being watched some time they were arrested."  

Under the pressure of early 19th century interrogation techniques, it did not take long for Isabella to confess.  She "stated that she had tied up the stolen jewelry and sent it by a strange boy to her sister's house in Eleventh street, near avenue C."  Investigators went to the Lower East Side address and recovered $1,200 of the loot--a little more than half.  "The rest could not be found, and the girl says she thinks the boy stole it," explained the newspaper.  Even though Letitia "is supposed to be innocent of the theft," she was held along with Isabella in jail for further examination.

At the time of the theft the district around the Post estate was changing.  The Yorkville neighborhood just to the north filled with German and Irish immigrants hired to construct the Croton Aqueduct; and in 1858 streetcar lines were extended along Second and Third Avenues.

The Posts may have already been anticipating liquidating their estate in the spring of 1863 when an advertisement appeared in The New York Herald.  "For Sale--An altered goat, sulky and harness; drives by bit, well trained and gentle; price $30.  Can be seen at the foot of Seventy-sixth street, East river.  The man will show him."  The price of the two-wheeled cart and goat would be equal to about $620 today.

A fieldstone retaining wall ran along the riverfront.  photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In the summer of 1865 East 76th Street was "regulated and graded."  It symbolized the end of the era of summer estates in upper Manhattan.  On October 17, 1869 the Post estate was advertised "for sale cheap in single lots or plots, on very easy term."    The buyer was Hamlin Babcock.

Babcock moved into the house, but quickly began partitioning the land into lots.  He advertised in The New York Herald on November 19, 1870: 

UP TOWN LOTS FOR SALE--At reasonable prices and on very easy terms.  Owner, Hamlin Babcock, Seventy-sixth street and East river.

Babcock continued selling off the property and by the fall of 1871 had reduced the estate to the point that the plots now included former Post outbuildings.   He marketed the river-front location of four lots, saying they were "suitable for stone, coal or lumber yard, with Stable Sheds, Smith's Shop, &c."

The carriage gates were far to the rear of the gardens.  photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Despite the appearances, Hamlin Babcock was more interested in politics than real estate.  On October 27, 1876, for instance, The New York Times reported that the Republican Convention of the Tenth Congressional District had "amid much enthusiasm, nominated Mr. Hamlin Babcock to represent the district in the House of Representatives."

The decline of the neighborhood was clearly evidenced in 1881.  Babcock was leasing the house that summer when it became central to a murder investigation.  On August 4 The New York Times began an article saying "At the foot of East Seventy-sixth-street is situated the residence of Mr. Hamlin Babcock, and the grounds surrounding the residence slope down to the river and form a favorite bathing place for the people living in the neighborhood."  (The term "bathing" did not mean swimming, but quite literally, taking a bath.)

At 8:00 on the previous morning a number of boys were bathing in the river when they noticed the body of a man floating in the water.  One of the boys, James Donohue, "horrified at the discovery," ran to the Babcock house, which was "temporarily occupied by Detective Samuel Campbell."  Campbell went down to the riverfront and with the help of the boys, pulled the corpse to the shore.

Born in Germany, Samuel Alt was a 62-year old "peddling butcher," who lived with his family at No. 202 East 76th Street.  Alt had left home the day before to buy calves and therefore had $50 in cash in his pocket.  It was missing from the body as was his double-cased silver watch.  There was a wound on the side of his head.

The Times said "The place where he was found is very lonely and unfrequented.  The street ends in a bluff, which on the other side slopes down to the river.  On the south side of Seventy-sixth-street is the boundary wall of Mr. Babcock's premises, which extends out into the water."  Despite the missing money and jewelry, police theorized that Alt had come down to the spot to bathe and before he could undress was "either seized with a fit or stumbled and fell into the water."

Investigators changed their minds when the autopsy was completed.  The following day The Times reported "The post-mortem examination of the remains of Samuel Alt, the aged Hebrew who was found in the water at the foot of East Seventy-sixth-street...showed that death was the result of violence."  Alt's skull had been nearly fractured by a blunt blow and he died from a concussion of the brain.

The newspaper noted "It is known that a gang of young outlaws infest Avenue A [now York Avenue] and First Avenue, and they have been a source of great annoyance and trouble to Mr. Hamlin Babcock, the owner of the grounds and residence at the foot of East Seventy-sixth-street.  His grounds have been frequently invaded, and his orchard and flowerbeds devastated out of sheer malice, and the Police have been, in the past practically powerless to afford him protection."

Babcock's flowerbeds, orchards and his well-kept house were an exception in the neighborhood.  The New-York Tribune said the area was "regarded as a very bad one, several of the blocks being occupied only by hovels on the rocks."  Ironically, many of those ramshackle houses were built on land originally sold by Babcock.   The grim environment was most likely responsible for Babcock's closing the house shortly after the murder.  With no renters, the building sat vacant for years.

The Settlement Movement took roots in America around 1890.  It stressed education over charity so that impoverished children and women could independently make their way in the world.  In 1891 Babcock sold the house to a newly formed organization, East Side House Settlement, which opened on June 5.  The organization's first Annual Report described it as "an old country residence" without "a pound of plumbing in it."  

A substantial renovation went beyond what the Report called "a thorough cleansing from top to bottom."  A cast iron range was installed, as well as indoor plumbing.  When the East Side House Settlement opened it had an acceptable library and what passed for a gymnasium.

Alterations included bricking up the former conservatory (left).  A somewhat scary-looking swing set was erected in the yard.  East Side House Annual Report, 1892 (copyright expired)

The need for the settlement house was obvious.  On December 19, 1893 The Evening World wrote "The territory bounded by Third avenue, Sixty-eighth street, Seventy-sixth street and the East River, has a dense population.  It contains a score of factories, in which at least 2,000 persons are employed."  

Maintaining the settlement house required generous donations.  On April 23, 1897 a reception and ball was held in the Central Opera House on East 77th Street near Third Avenue for the benefit of the East Side House.  "The affair was largely attended by friends of the association and the dancing was kept up until a late hour," said the New-York Tribune.

The wooden house could not serve the needs of the exploding population for many more years.  On April 22, 1900 the New-York Tribune reported "Drawings have been made for the proposed enlarged building of the East Side House Settlement...on the river bluff at East Seventy-sixth-st."  The newspaper printed renderings by architects Howells & Stokes.

New-York Tribune, April 22, 1900 (copyright expired)

Within the year the old Anthony Post house was gone.  The replacement structure was demolished during the Depression years for construction of the FDR Drive.

The Wm. Walton Rutherfurd House - 14 East 74th Street

On September 14, 1873 the new brownstone house at No. 14 East 74th Street was offered for sale by real estate agent V. K. Stevenson, Jr.  The 22-foot wide house was one of a string of seven erected by developer James A. Coburn.  Four stories tall above an English basement, the Italianate house featured the expected high stoop of the style.

By the 1890's the house was home to James Hervey Sanford and his wife, the former Lucy Sistare.  Born in New Haven, Connecticut  on December 17, 1812, Sanford had graduated from Yale Law School in 1834.  He practiced law just one year before becoming a part-owner and editor of the Journal of Commerce in New York City.  But in 1857 he left after his views of slavery clashed with the newspaper's.

He married Lucy, daughter of banker George K. Sistare, on September 8, 1859.   The couple had one daughter.  Sanford had purchased the Buffalo Courier upon leaving the Journal of Commerce, but he sold it in 1862 and the couple returned to New York.   Sanford settled into retirement, living quietly with his wife and daughter and traveling extensively in Europe with them.

James Hervey Sanford contracted a serious case of influenza in December 1898.  He died on the day after Christmas at the age of 86.   Interestingly, there was no funeral.  The New York Times reported only that "There was no service over the remains, and the interment was private."

Two months later, on February 22, 1899 the New York Journal reported that Lucy Sanford had sold "the four-story, high-stoop private dwelling."  Both parties kept the price paid quiet, the article noting the sale was made "on private terms."

The buyer was the Rev. William Walton Rutherfurd and his wife, the former Anna Jackson.  The New York Times later mentioned "The Rutherfurds, who originally came from New Jersey, where the family owns much land, were prominent even in Colonial Days."  Rutherfurd had been ordained a priest of the Episcopal Church on June 16, 1889 and was now connected with Trinity Church on Wall Street.  His religious duties did not interfere with the couple's upscale lifestyle.

The Rutherfords did not immediately move into the 74th Street brownstone.  Instead, on July 27 the New-York Tribune reported that they had boarded the steamship Barbarossa for Europe.  The timing of the trip made perfect sense since the Rutherfurds had commissioned architect Stockton B. Colt to completely make over their new home.

In 1900 they moved into an unrecognizable residence.  Colt had removed the stoop and stripped off the brownstone cladding.  The new American basement plan placed the entrance in the center of the stone base.  Two sets of French doors opened onto a wide French balcony at the second floor, or piano nobile.   French turned to neo-Georgian on the upper floors, faced in variegated yellow Roman brick.  Bold splayed limestone lintels decorated the openings of the second and third floors.

A decorative terra cotta bandcourse introduced the understated fourth floor, ornamented only by recessed panels.  A bracketed stone cornice upheld the slate-tiled mansard roof, embellished with copper-clad dormers and prominent stone chimneys.

William officiated at the wedding of his equally wealthy brother, stock broker John Alexander Rutherfurd, and Cora Baker Davis on May 7, 1905.  It was one of the few times newspapers mentioned Rev. Rutherfurd's name in connection with a religious service.  Instead, society columns followed the couple's movements from one fashionable watering hole to the next.

On September 19, 1902, for instance, The New York Times had announced "The Rev. and Mrs. William Walton Rutherfurd are at Hot Springs of Virginia," and in reporting on the social events at Lenox on July 25, 1908, the New-York Tribune noted "There has been much bridge whist this week.  Mrs. William Walton Rutherfurd was hostess at a large entertainment this week in the Curtis Hotel."  The same week The New York Times reported that the Rutherfurds "will open their cottage at Bar Harbor to-day.  They have been recently visiting at Lenox."

But the whirlwind of resorts and bridge parties was about to come to an end.  On January 29, 1909 Anna died of pneumonia in the 74th Street house.  Her funeral was held at Trinity Church on February 1.

William remained briefly at No. 14.  Later that year in December he gave a dinner at the Metropolitan Club for Miss Estelle Crosby.  The wife of another wealthy and socially-visible Episcopal priest, Alfred Duane Pell, "chaperoned the young people," according to The Times. 

He soon leased the house and moved permanently to England.  On August 26, 1919 The Sun reported "The Rev. William Walton Rutherfurd, who has been in this country for several weeks the guest of his brother, John A. Rutherfurd, will return this week to England."  It may have been that visit that convinced him to finally sell No. 14.

Title was transferred to Townsend Hornor in January 1920.  A prominent real estate operator, his name (which newspapers routinely misspelled Horner) appeared in sports pages as a golfer, fisherman, and yachtsman.  His wife, whom he married in 1909, was the former Belva Dula, daughter of Robert R. Dula, a vice-president of the American Tobacco Co.

The Hornors maintained two country homes, Rocklee in Rye, New York, and another in Greenwich, Connecticut.  They also used the Dula estate, Inglenook, in Tarrytown on the scenic Hudson River. 

Not long after moving in Belva was looking for a new cook.  Her advertisement in The New York Herald on March 16, 1921 read "Cook, $65; two in family; best references required."  Cooks were routinely the highest paid among domestic staffs.  The wages offered would be about $890 today.

John began suffering heart trouble in 1923.  After having two cardiac operations he was taken to the Connecticut residence to recuperate.  He died there on August 4 at the age of 44.

Within two years Belva had remarried.  In 1925 Belva was listed in social registers as Countess Belva-Dula Pieri.  She sold No. 14 East 74th Street to James Gardner Shepherd and his new wife, the former Celia B. Rine.    Shephard and Celia had been married that year, shortly after his divorce from his wife, Myrtle.

Shepherd had retired from the mining and banking businesses about a decade earlier.  He focused greatly now on his art collection, filling the 74th Street house with notable works.  The New York Times later remarked "In the art gallery in his home Mr. Sheperd had one of the world's finest Corot collections and a large collection of Barye bronzes."  Other artists represented in the collection were John Singer Sargent, Narcisse Virgilio Diaz, and Albert Ryder.

Jean-Francois Millet's 1875 "The Woodchopper" was among Shepherd's collection.  Art Institute of Chicago

Perhaps more than any previous owners, the Shepherds entertained often.  On December 8, 1926, for instance, The New York Times reported that the couple "gave a dinner followed by a musical program last night at their home."   Operatic singers Harriet Maconel and Eleanor Rogers were accompanied by harpist Mario de Stephano.  The Shepherds took advantage of the pipe organ installed by the Rutherfurds by having Dr. Harry Rowe Shelly play.

Nevertheless, the house was quite often closed as the Shepherds traveled.  On February 8, 1928 they left in their private railroad car, the Newport, for Palm Beach.  They were back in March, but almost immediately left for Europe.  They returned on the steamship Berengaria in June, and then headed to "their country home, Paradise Camp, Grace Pond, Jackman, Maine," on June 27th as reported by The Times.

Back in town for the winter season, the Shepherds hosted a dinner on November 15, 1928.  The New York Times listed among the guests Prince and Princess Nicolas Kara-Georgevitch.

Socialites were expected to dress the part, even during the Depression years.  In 1931 Celia agreed to a cost-savings ploy that landed her in hot water and made her the focus of humiliating publicity.  Her Paris dressmaker suggested that an employee, Lotti Leroy, accompany the Shepherds to New York with Celia's new gowns packed in Lotti's trunks.  Because Lotti was French, said the couturier, Customs officials would assume they were her own apparel, and were not being imported.  It did not work.

On July 1 Celia returned to New York on the Leviathan.  Lotti Leroy was also on the passenger list.  Lotti informed the Customs officials that she was a French resident and the gowns were hers.  But they were not fooled.

"It was evident that the exclusive Paris models were not made for her and upon further questioning she admitted that they were for Mrs. Shepherd, who was fined $8,000," reported The New York Times on July 26.  But Celia's embarrassment did not end there.  Treasury agents began looking closer to earlier Customs documents from voyages on which the Shepherds were passengers.

They discovered "that several other costly Paris evening dresses had been brought over and delivered to Mrs. Shepherd free of duty by the salaried agent of the French dressmakers," said the article.  "Further duties and penalties amounting to $22,000 were levied and Mrs. Shepherd was permitted to keep the gowns after she had paid the total of $30,000."  The significant amount would be equal to about $483,000 today.

On March 18, 1935, about eight months after he was stricken with chronic nephritis (a kidney condition), James Gardner Shepherd died in the 74th Street house at the age of 67. 

Celia sold the "five-story residence with elevator and garden," to Willam A. Garrigues.  The son of William A. and Lillie Maxwell Garrigues, he had graduated from Princeton in 1919 and was a partner in Levering & Garrigues, iron manufacturers.  He remained until February 1946 when he sold it "for occupancy."

But the buyers, Fourteen East Seventy-Fourth Corporation, had other things in mind.  A conversion to apartments was begun in 1950.  Completed the following year, it resulted in furnished rooms throughout and one apartment on the third floor.  The entrance was converted to a window and the doorway moved to the side. 

When the house was sold in March 1953, The New York Times noted that the buyer "will occupy one of the apartments after minor alterations."  The alterations were not that minor.  There was now one apartment per floor within the building.

It was not uncommon for converted mansions in the neighborhood to house upscale art galleries and in 1963 the Reyn Gallery operated from No. 14.  Owner Alfred Reyn lived in the building, as well.  In the fall that year he staged a showing of artist Jef Banc's "oils, washes, and collages."  But as it turned out the Federal Government was interested in Reyn not for his paintings, but for other activities.

The Reyn Gallery was a front for Alfred's gambling operation.  He was arrested on July 6, 1964 in a novel scheme by United States Attorney Robert M. Morgenthau.   The 57-year old was not charged with illegal gambling, but with failing to pay taxes on the alleged $1 million he had grossed in the past few years on wagers, and with filing untrue tax returns.

There are still just five apartments, one per floor, in the building.  And other than the disappointing loss of the entrance and the unsympathetic treatment of the French doors above, outwardly the house is little changed since the Rutherfords' remarkable makeover in 1900.

photographs by the author

The J. C. Fargo House - 122 East 37th Street

Around 1856 the imposing home at No. 24 East 37th Street was completed for Patrick McCaffrey.   While it shared many of the elements of the other Italianate style residences rising along the block between Park and Lexington Avenues, its extra width--a full 25 feet--and its short stoop set it apart.  

By 1865, when East 37th Street was renumbered giving the house the new address of No. 122, McCaffrey seems to have left.  It was home to the Rev. S. A. Carey by the early 1870's.  It is unclear with which church the minister was associated; but its congregation found itself no longer able to make the payments on the house in 1873.   It would be the last year Carey lived here.

The church had taken out a chattel mortgage on the property--putting up the furnishings as collateral.  An announcement in The New York Herald on December 29, 1873 read:

Mortgage Sale--By virtue of a chattel mortgage I will expose for sale at public auction, on Tuesday, December 30, 1873, at 11 o'clock in the forenoon, at No. 122 East Thirty-seventh street, the Furniture of said premises, consisting of walnut Furniture, Carpets, Mirrors, Oil Paintings &c.; also one splendid Piano and a valuable collection of Books, and all appurtenances that go to make up a first class private residence.  Michael G. Murray, Attorney for Mortgagee

Henry Lord purchased the house in March 1885, paying $27,000, or just over $725,000 today.  Like his well-heeled neighbors, Lord haunted fashionable resorts to escape the summer heat and, occasionally, the frigid winters.  He went to Hot Springs, North Carolina for the holidays in 1889, staying at the luxurious Mountain Park Hotel.  Among its amenities, according to the New-York Tribune on December 22, was its "finely appointed and luxurious bath-house, containing large marble pools...built over some of the [hot] springs."

Lord left No. 122 that year and it was purchased by James Congdell Strong Fargo, president of the American Express Co.  Both his sons, James Francis and William Congdell, were involved in the firm.  Son James F. began construction on his own house next door at No. 120 in 1892.

Fargo was married to the former Frances Parsons Stuart, known familiarly as Fannie.  Along with their sons, they had a daughter, Annie Stuart.  The family's summer estate was at Irvington, New York, near Sunnyside.  It was there in 1882 that Annie had married William Duncan Preston.  

Tragically, Annie died giving birth to their only child, Stuart Duncan Preston, on January 1, 1884 at the age of 24.  By at least 1895 William was leasing the East 37th Street house from his father-in-law and moved in with young Stuart, along with his widowed mother, and his sister, Florence Isabelle.

Florence's engagement to Henry Graves, Jr. was announced on December 1, 1895.  The wedding took place in the fashionable St. Thomas's Church on Fifth Avenue on January 21, 1896.  William gave his sister away and The New York Times reported "Following the ceremony, there was a small reception at the residence of the bride's mother, at 122 East Fifty-seventh [sic] Street."

The following year the Prestons moved on and in September James C. Fargo leased No. 122 to T. Suffern Tailer.   Born into an aristocratic New York family, the New-York Tribune called the Washington Square home where he grew up "one of the most beautiful homes in the city as well as one of the oldest."  In 1893 Tailer had married Maude Lorrillard, the only daughter of Pierre Lorillard.  The couple's summer residence was near the Lorillard estate in Tuxedo.  It was a wedding present from the bride's father.

Maude stole the spotlight from her husband in the society papers because of her fashion sense, her unrivaled beauty and her skill as a rider.  When the couple visited the Lorillard apartment in Paris, The Evening World commented "Doubtless Mr. and Mrs. T. Suffern Tailer will add greatly to the spirit of the autumn gayeties.  Mrs. Tailer will have an opportunity to air some of her Parisian finery at the annual autumn ball."  The Evening World described her as "beautiful in a royal way, with the arched eyebrows and Cupid-bow mouth, so emblematic of generations of breeding.  Although a famous belle, a lover of horses and athletic sports, she is associated in the minds of those who  best know her with kindly charities and unselfish consideration for those who need her aid."

The Evening World poked good-natured fun at some of Manhattan's wealthy gentlemen, including Tailer, with caricatures on August 5, 1902.  (copyright expired) 

In May 1899 James C. Fargo transferred title to No. 122 to William C. Fargo.  Despite the technical change of landlords, the Tailers continued on in the house.

Maude and a maid left New York for Sioux Falls in February 1902 where she took a house.  Rumors were that "she had come to South Dakota for the purpose of remaining in the State for the necessary six months in order to obtain a divorce," said the New-York Tribune.  The rumors were correct.  She received a divorce on August 14 on the grounds that her husband intended to desert her.  Although the divorce was "without sensational features," it was apparently not a friendly split.  The Tribune noted that Maude had the luggage tags with her initials "M.L.T" removed and replaced with ones reading "M. L."

But it appears it was not T. Suffern who had intentions of desertion.  Just three months later, on November 10, The Evening World reported "Mrs. T. Suffern Tailer is the bride in London of the Hon. Cecil Baring."  T. Suffern Tailer was given custody of the couple's son.

John Hamilton Gourlie died on February 21, 1904.  The wealthy broker left four grown children, including an unmarried daughter Eliza.  On April 17, 1904 The New York Times reported that William C. Fargo had leased No. 122 East 37th Street to "the Misses Gourlay [sic]."  The plural reflected Eliza's guardianship of her two nieces, Nathalie and Isabelle Thacher Groulie.

The women had lived here only a year when Eliza announced Isabel's engagement to Noel Lispenard Carpender.  That winter was the season of the girls' introduction to society.  On January 27, 1906 the New-York Tribune reported on a dance she had given the evening before.  "Miss Gourlie's dance was for her two nieces, Miss Isabel and Miss Nathalie Groulie  There was no cotillion, but general dancing throughout the evening."  

Isabelle's wedding took place on April 24, 1906 at the nearby Calvary Church.  Nathalie was her sister's maid of honor.  The Sun reported that "Her aunt, Miss E. C. Gourlie, of 122 East Thirty-seventh street, with whom she makes her home, will give a reception after the ceremony."  

There would be a second wedding reception in the house two years later, almost to the day.  On April 21, 1908 Nathalie was married in St. George's Church on Stuyvesant Square to Francis Henry Appleton, Jr.   The New-York Tribune noted that the "large gathering" all "adjourned to the reception given by Miss Gourlie, the aunt of the bride, at her house in East 37th street."

James Shewan, head of the shipbuilding firm of James Shewan & Sons, died on May 7, 1914.  The Sun reported "He gave his entire estate to his wife, Ellen Shewan, and left nothing to his two sons and three daughters."   In September that year William C Fargo leased No. 122 to Ellen.  She remained only two years, and in November 1916 the house was leased to Mary Fels, the widow of Joseph Fels.

Joseph Fels had made his fortune in the soap industry.  His best selling product was the Fels-Naptha soap brand which he developed in 1894.   In 1906 he turned much of his focus on the hopes that a Jewish homeland would be founded in Israel.  Now Mary continued his work from No. 122.  It became home to The Public Publishing Company, publishers of The Public, A Journal of Democracy; and to the Zionist Society of Engineers and Agriculturalists.  

On April 5, 1919 The American Contractor announced that the group "is at present planning to send an Engineering Commission to Palestine for the purpose of making a survey of the natural resources."  The Public went further, saying that arrangements had been made "whereby young men, Zionists, technically inclined, able-bodied and anxious to go to Palestine, will get a thorough training in tractor work and in practical agricultural methods generally."  

Original detailing survives within the arched entrance.

Mary Fels left in 1919 and the house continued to be leased to wealthy tenants.  In August that year the New-York Tribune reported that "Misses Rebecca Cramp and Florence P. Gill, of Philadelphia" had leased No. 122 from Helen F. Fargo.  They were followed by C. Hammond Avery, Jr. and his new bride, Helen MacDonald in 1921, and by Frances Marion Brandon by 1925.

Brandon was an assistant corporation counsel and a force in Manhattan politics.  On June 12, 1925 The New York Times reported that she held a meeting of "some twenty leaders of Tammany Hall and about eighty other men and women well known in Democratic and social life" in the house.

But Frances's name was already better known to most New Yorkers for a scandal that had begun a few months earlier.  She had sent a notice to The Times on March 14 announcing that she was engaged to a high-powered lawyer, George J. Gillespie, Sr., of Gillespie & O'Connor.  Along with his other dealings, he was the personal counsel to Cardinal Patrick Hayes.  The announcement said the engagement had taken place on November 13, 1924, but was not announced because of the recent death of Gillespie's wife.  "It was stated that the wedding would take place early this Spring," said The New York Times.

When he read the newspaper reports of his engagement Gillespie was infuriated.  He first called the newspaper and then told a reporter in person "I have never been engaged to her and I never will be.  The idea of marrying Miss Brandon has never occurred to me."  Oddly, Frances told The Times she would marry him despite his denial.

It all ended up in the courts, with Frances bringing a series of lawsuits against Gillespie charging breach of promise, fraud, $74,000 which she says he owed her, and $500,000 in damages.  (Frances apparently was greatly damaged, her suit topping $7 million by today's standards.)  The issued dragged on for years and on February 28, 1930 The Times reported that the jury could not come up with a verdict.  The case would have to start over.

Photographed around 1940, the house had lost its Italianate detailing, once similar to those on the houses further up the block. photo via NYC Department of Records & Information Services.

By then Frances had lost her job as assistant corporation counsel and had left East 37th Street.  Afterward the house was converted to apartments and by the late 1930's the Victorian brownstone facade details had been shaved flat.

Looking somewhat spartan without its 1856 architectural elements, today there are four apartments in the building.

photographs by the author

The Pierre Ouvrier House - 247 West 13th Street

The solid, paneled doors are original.  At some point metal cornices were added to the windows; a subtle upgrade.  

Not all the real estate developers in the first half of the 19th century were men.  In 1854 Mary Ann C. Rogers commissioned the construction of six rowhouses on West 13th Street just east of Greenwich Avenue.  Three stories of red-orange brick sat upon rusticated brownstone English basements.  Tall stoops led to the double-doored entrances within molded, elliptical arched frames under a simple cornice.  Ample transoms provided light into the foyer.  The architect chose not to run the identical bracketed cornices together, giving each residence its independence.

No. 247 became home to the Elias Wasson family.  Wasson and his wife, Maria, had at least one daughter.  Another, Isabella Anne, had died at just one year and two months old on December 15, 1841.  

Wasson was a partner in Inglis & Wasson, dealers in "blue stone and flags [i.e., flag stones]."  No. 247 was convenient to his business, its office and stone yard being at the corner of 13th Street and Tenth Avenue.  On May 1, 1855 the partnership was dissolved and Elias Wasson continued running it alone.

Maria Wasson died at the age of 44 on February 7, 1860.  Her funeral was held in the house and she was buried in Greenwood Cemetery.

By 1872 Pierre Ouvrier and his wife, Marguerite, had purchased the house.  As was often the case, the title was put in her name.  The couple had six children, at least three of them, Jules, Louis and Charles, lived in the house.

Ouvrier was born in a Pyrenees village in Southern France in 1808.  While still a boy he went to Paris where he learned cabinet making.  In 1841 he came to New York and established a business on Harrison Street.  Five years later he partnered with Martin Martins to form the piano making firm of Martins & Ouvrier.  Then, in 1867 the partnership was dissolved and Ouvrier reorganized with his sons, creating Ouvrier & Sons.  The firm earned a superb reputation making high-end square grand and upright instruments.

In December 1874 Louis Ouvrier had to temporarily put piano making on hold when he was appointed to the jury in a high-profile murder case.  Tammany Hall bigwig Richard "Boss" Croker was accused of murdering John McKenna on election day that year.  McKenna was a lieutenant of James O'Brien, who was running for Congress against Tammany candidate Abram S. Hewitt.   The New York Times called McKenna's death the result of "an affray" at the polls.

Visibly opposing the corrupt and powerful Tammany regime was a risky proposition.  And that may have had much to do with Ouvrier and his peers failing to come to a verdict in the case.  Croker walked free.

The year 1881 was a traumatic one at No. 247 West 13th Street.  On January 15 Marguerite died.  Following her funeral in the house, a requiem mass was held in the French-language Church of St. Vincent de Paul on West 23rd Street. 

Shortly afterward Pierre Ouvrier fell, breaking his thigh.  It was just beginning to heal when, on April 4 he "was stricken with apoplexy," as reported by The New York Times.  (Today the condition would be most often be diagnosed as a stroke.)  Ouvrier was partially conscious for three days before slipping into a coma.  He died on April 9 at the age of 73.  The New York Times called him "one of the oldest piano manufacturers in this country."  The article noted "His sons were associated with him in the business, and will continue it."

Eight months later there was another death in the house.  Charles Louis, the six-month old son of Louis and his wife, Julia, died on December 6.  Unlike those of his grandparents, the baby's funeral was strictly private.

Of Pierre and Marguerite's six children, only three were still living--Louis, Charles and Emma.  They inherited equal shares in house.  Louis and Charles reorganized the business as Ouvrier Brothers.  They would continue manufacturing high class pianos through the turn of the century.

Around 1901 Emma married and in April the following year she and Louis sold their portions of the 13th Street house to Charles.  On April 12 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that Charles had paid "Emma A. Ouvrier, now Duprez" $3,806 and paid Louis $4,000 (no explanation of the $200 difference was offered).   The combined payments would equal about $115,000 today.

By 1907 Charles had moved out and leased No. 247 to Victor Rettich, the president of the Knickerbocker Light and Heat Company.   His newly-widowed father, Albert Rettich, moved in with the family in April 1908.

The Sun described Albert as "a well to do broker of Berlin."  Three weeks earlier his wife had died and immediately following the funeral he came to New York.  The Sun explained that after being married nearly fifty years, the 72-year-old "found himself unable to endure the loneliness and grief after Mrs. Rettich's death."  The newspaper noted "To members of the family the old man had said several times that he didn't see any use in living longer."

On the morning of April 24 Albert went downtown to Victor's office on the fifth floor of No. 25 West Broadway.  Along with his son, Thomas Harris and H. P. Brayton were in the office and Albert took a seat near a window.  The Sun reported "They did not observe Mr. Rettich's actions until one of them happened to glance up and see that he was climbing out of the window.  They were too late to catch him."

West Broadway was crowded with hundreds of pedestrians who witnessed Rettich smash onto the pavement.  His body was taken to the West 13th Street house where his funeral was held later that week.

Charles was the last surviving Ouvrier brother by now.  He continued to run Ouvrier Brothers on his own.  The Rettich family would have to find a new home soon after his niece, Marie, Louis's daughter, became engaged to William Henry McKiever in March 1910.  The New-York Tribune noted "The wedding will probably take place early in June."

Marie K. Ouvrier at the time of her engagement.  New-York Tribune, May 15, 1910 (copyright expired)

William H. McKiever was a consulting and contracting engineer and the head of Wm. H. McKiever, Inc.  Shortly after the engagement was announced, on March the New York Daily Tribune reported "William H. McKiever, one of the officers of the Catholic Club and a leading mechanical engineer, gave a dinner last night at the Manhattan Hotel.  The dinner was in honor of Miss Marie K. Ouvrier, who is to become Mrs. McKiever next June."  The guest list included notable names, like Joseph James Ryan, the son of millionaire Thomas Fortune Ryan; former Police Commissioner Frank C. York and his wife; and Assemblyman James A. Foley.

Following the June 11 wedding in the Church of St. Saviour, the couple moved into No. 247 West 13th Street.  McKiever's active involvement in the Catholic Church was no doubt a factor in his winning the attentions of Marie.  She had been educated in the St. Joseph's Convent in Flushing, and according to the New-York Tribune "since the organization of the St Mary's Junior Auxiliary has been one of its most popular members."

The couple would continue their involvement with Catholic organizations.  Marie was vice-president of the St. Joseph's Alumnae and active in its charitable programs, and a member of the Ladies' Auxiliary of St. Joseph's Day Nursery.  By 1920 William was a trustee of the latter group.

McKiever's name appeared in newspapers for a less commendable reason in January 1922.  The Lockwood Committee had been formed in 1919 to probe renting and building conditions in the City of New York.  Its broad investigation included the suppliers of heating and ventilating appliances.  On January 31, 1922 The New York Herald announced that the committee had indicted 20 corporations and 28 individuals "all of them alleged to have been identified with the system of price fixing."  Included in the list was William McKiever.

McKiever seems to have cleared his name, for two months later the New York Building Congress named him to a committee "to revive the apprenticeship system in the building trades."

The McKievers were concerned when they lost two valued items were lost on their way home from church on April 13, 1924.  The following day an advertisement appeared in The New York Telegram and Evening Mail:  "Pocket Pray Books, two, lost Sunday afternoon, West 8th street or Greenwich avenue.  Please return.  247 West 13th."  (Interesting, no reward was offered.)

By 1933 the McKievers had moved on.  Their former home was operated as a rooming house at the time.

In 1933 a Room for Rent sign hangs from the doorway.  To the far left is the Jackson Square Library.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library.

In 1942 a renovation was completed which resulted in an apartment in the basement and one of the parlor floor, three furnished rooms on the second, and one apartment and a furnished room on the third.   

One of the tenants in 1946 was author and playwright Herbert Oswald Nicholas Kubly.  While living here he was the music critic for Time magazine and his play Men to the Sea was running on Broadway.  In his 1994 Knowing When to Stop: A Memoir, Ned Rorem recalled meeting him that year, adding he "lived on a floor-through at 247 West Thirteenth, got up late and worked all afternoon with the kind of zeal he felt necessary to The Artist."

By the mid-1950's esteemed photographer Lisette Model lived had an apartment here.  In 1952 the New School for Social Research staged an exhibition of her and Bernice Abbot's photographs.  On September 23, 1956 Jacob Deschin, writing in The New York Times, reported "Lisette Model offers a course in 'The Function of the Small Camera' to be given in twelve weekly sessions at 8 o'clock at 247 West Thirteenth Street.  The course fee is $60."  

In 2016 the Ouvrier house was reconverted to a single family home.  A careful restoration of the facade closely returned it to its 1854 appearance.

photographs by the author