The 1892 William E. Diller House - 62 West 69th Street

Beginning in 1892 the south side of West 69th Street between Central Park West and Columbus Avenue filled with groups of rowhouses erected by several developers.  Most interesting is that all of them used the same architect--Gilbert A. Schellenger.  The result was an architecturally cohesive block despite the various owners.

Among the earliest were the eight Renaissance Revival style houses at Nos. 48 through 70 West 69th Street which Schellenger designed for Dr. William Edward Diller.   Diller was apparently pleased with the row, for he moved his family into No. 62.

Like every other house on the block, No. 62 rose four stories above an English basement.  A stone stoop rose to the entrance which was flanked by fluted Corinthian pilasters.  They upheld sturdy foliate brackets which, in turn, supported a second floor balcony.

A diminutive engaged column that clung to the facade between the parlor windows sprouted an angled bay which supported a second balcony.  Intricate carvings covered the base of the bay and filled the spandrel panels of the parlor level and the second floor.  The openings of third floor wore molded cornices and those of the fourth triangular pediments.  A cast metal cornice completed the design.

Delicate carved panels, now painted, filled the panels.

Dr. Diller was born in New York City on July 31, 1858.  A graduate of the University of Virginia, he married Elizabeth A. Crawford in 1884.  The couple had two daughters, Mary Elizabeth and Virginia Crawford Diller.  The successful physician added to his significant wealth by speculating in real estate.  He and Schellenger would work together on several other projects.  

Dr. Wm. Edward Diller - University of Virginia, Its History, Influence, Equipment and Characteristics, 1904 (copyright expired)

The family lived quietly in the house, garnering little attention.  The Diller name appeared in newspapers only in relation to William's buying and selling of properties.  In August 1900 Diller sold his 20-foot wide home to John C. Duenhauer.

Born in Bavaria in 1847, Duenhauer was listed as a butcher as early as 1870.  He and his wife, the former Marie Louisa Jung (known as Mary), were married on May 28, 1878.  They had five children, Rose, John F., May, Frederick, and William Leonard.

John Duenhauer was no store front butcher.  An advertisement in The Sun on March 7, 1909 described his operation on Spring Street as "City Dressed Prime Beef and Provisions."  His customers included hotels, steamships and restaurants.   Living with the family in the 69th Street house that year were three servants, 37-year old Hungarian-born Anna Manak, the cook; Mary Holdstetter, the 21-year old maid who was also born in Hungary; and Sophie Green, the 24-year old Irish-born laundress.

Despite the family's comfortable finances, it appears that John saw no reason to overspend on the children's educations.  In 1902 William was enrolled as a sub-freshman in the Free Academy of the City of New York in the "Language Course, Classical."  The sons would eventually all be taken into their father's business.

Young William was apparently more free with his money.  Only his name appeared in society columns.  Such was the case on August 1, 1909 when The New York Times reported that the 20-year old was a guest "at the Friday night card party at the Warwick Arms" in Point Pleasant, New Jersey.

On April 6, 1913 May's engagement to Frederick H. Knocke was announced.   The wedding took place in the 69th Street house on October 8 that year with Rose as her sister's attendant.  The New York Times described the rose point lace veil as being "caught up with sprays of lilies of the valley, and [the bride] carried a shower bouquet of lilies of the valley."  On her satin gown was the diamond bow-knot given to her by the groom.

Frederick and John J. branched out that year by incorporating the Roydi Realty Corp.   The brothers pooled $20,000 to start their firm (more than half a million in today's dollars).  By 1915 they took William into the business as secretary and director.

The original stoop can be seen in this 1941 photo.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Marie Louise Dauenhauer died on New Year's Day 1920 at the age of 64.  Her husband and son, Frederick, remained in No. 62 for another decade.  John died on April 1, 1930 at the age of 82 and Frederick left soon afterward.

By 1932 the house was being leased as unofficial apartments.  It was not until 1958 that an official conversion was completed, resulting in two apartments on each floor.  It may have been at this time that the stoop was removed to create a more open entrance to the former basement level, and a metal replacement installed.

The original stoop was a straight version of the one next door.

Among the tenants in the 1970's were Ralph Alswang and his wife, Betty.  He was described by The New York Times as "the Broadway scenic designer who turned a stunning series of stage successes into a career as one of the nation's foremost designers of theaters."  After having designed the sets of hits like The Rainmaker, A Raisin in the Sun, and Sunrise at Campobello, Alswang switched careers to design theaters.

He won acclaim for his designs of playhouses like the Palace and Uris Theaters on Broadway, the Latin Theater in Las Vegas, the New Orleans Civic Center, and the Pine Knob Pavilion in Michigan.

Betty Alswang died in 1978.  The following year, on February 15, Ralph suffered a fatal heart attack in his apartment.  He was 62 years old.

The stone facade of the Diller house has been painted and the entrance door replaced.  Nevertheless, even with its missing stoop, the residence retains most of its architectural integrity after more than a century and a quarter.

photographs by the author

The Lost 1859 John Jacob Astor III House - 338 Fifth Avenue

from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In 1827 William Astor, son of the original John Jacob Astor, purchased half of John Thompson’s farm north of the city.   It was a prodigious investment, as things would turn out.  Within a few decades Astor's purchase--stretching along Fifth Avenue from 32^nd Street to 35^th Street--would sit within the most prestigious residential district in the United States.

Astor erected a brick dwelling at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 34^th Street, apparently for rental purposes.  The Astor family continued to live on elegant Lafayette Street.  

William's son, John Jacob Astor III, married Charlotte Augusta Gibbes in 1847.  Described as a "Southern belle" by newspapers, she was the daughter of Thomas Stanyarne Gibbes, Jr. of South Carolina.  The following year their only child, William Waldorf Astor (known as Willie) was born.

In 1854 William Astor gave John Jacob and his brother, William, the western block front of Fifth Avenue between 33rd and 34th Streets.  John took the southern half which held the house.

In 1859 John Jacob Astor erected a fine brick home on the site of the earlier house.  It was a remarkably early example of the French Second Empire style and may have been designed by the New Jersey-born architect Detlef Lienau, who had designed the city's first mansion in the style, the Hart M. Schiff house, several years earlier.  The two mansions exhibited similarities, including the slightly projecting central pavilion, the treatment of the dormers, and the stone quoins.

The mansion, No. 338 Fifth Avenue, was 50 feet wide on the avenue and stretched back 107 feet along 33rd Street.  A split brownstone staircase rose to the arched entrance which was flanked by paired, engaged Corinthian columns.  

Frank Leslie's Illustrated newspaper later commented that the house "is crowded with costly paintings and rare art treasures."  The Holley, New York newspaper The Standard said it is "conspicuous for nothing but its plainness and the spacious grounds which surround it...The interior compares favorably with any palace."

Three years later William Backhouse Astor, Jr. filled his half of the block with an Italianate brick and brownstone home.   A shared garden with a fountain separated the two mansions.

When the Civil War broke out, many of the sons of Manhattan's wealthiest families avoided military service.  The situation resulted in the bloody three-day Draft Riots in 1863 after millionaires paid to have their sons' names removed from the lottery.  

But John Jacob Astor stepped forward, volunteering for military service.  It may have been a difficult decision, considering his wife's Southern roots and family.  He served on the staff of General George B. McClellan and returned home after the war with the rank of colonel.

from the collection of the Library of Congress

On November 24, 1875 William Backhouse Astor, Sr. died at the age of 83.  He was the richest man in America at the time.   The Evening World reported, "He left the vastly increased family fortune to his eldest son, John Jacob Astor."  In fact, John Jacob inherited two-thirds of the massive estate (broadly estimated at the time at between $50 million and $200 million, the lesser amount equal to $1.2 billion today).  His father also left him the privilege of calling himself "Mr. Astor."  

As explained in The Illustrated American on February 21, 1891, "It being allowed that Mister, as a distinguishing title, passes from father to son, it must pass in accordance with the custom of other countries to the eldest son."  So with the death of his father, John Jacob Astor was permitted by social protocol, to drop his Christian name and be addressed as Mr. Astor.  The same applied to Augusta, who by long established social decorum was the rightful Mrs. Astor.

But her next-door neighbor and sister-in-law, Caroline Schermerhorn Astor--someone normally defined by proper social formality--disagreed.  She appropriated the title Mrs. Astor.

Augusta Astor had other things with which to concern herself.  Ardently religious, she dedicated her time and much of her money to charitable organizations.  Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper described her as "a woman of deep piety, broad sympathies and wide culture."  Having received a private education, she spoke French, German and Italian.  Unlike Caroline Astor, whose guests were chosen for their wealth, Augusta was "delighted to gather around her people eminent in art, science and letters."

Charlotte Augusta Astor - Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, December 24, 1887 (copyright expired)

Augusta was actively involved in the Children's Aid Society and hosted an annual Christmas dinner for the newsboys and bootblacks at the Newsboys' Lodging House on Duane Street.   She supported the Woman's Hospital, the Nursery and Child's Hospital, and was an early supporter of cancer research.  Unlike most socialites, who supported their charities with checks, Augusta was hands-on, visiting and working in the hospitals and lodging houses in person.  It was a situation that Caroline Astor vocally decried as being beneath her station.

The windows of the Astor mansion are draped in black as the funeral procession of Ulysses S. Grant passes on August 8, 1885.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The two Astor mansions were increasingly being separated by more than a garden.  The differences between the Astor women were mirrored in their husbands.  Once extremely close, their interests and lifestyles had drifted apart.  

Although they had side-by-side offices, The Evening World noted "It was the whim of William Astor that it was undignified for a great landed proprietor to concern himself about details of business, and he liked to look upon himself as a fashionable man, and there can be no doubt that he felt agrieved [sic]...that he must take the place of a 'younger brother.'"  The newspaper said that while John Jacob "trudged down to the office every day and counted the money," his brother "wandered over the world in his steam yacht."

John Jacob and Augusta had two country homes, Beaulieu, in Newport, built by Federico Barreda in 1859; and Ardsley Park, the former Cyrus W. Field estate, near Rhinecliff-on-the-Hudson.  Ardsley Park was John Jacob's preferred spot--possibly because of its privacy.  The Standard called it "an ancient-looking establishment, kept in the finest order, and is a reminiscence of olden times."

The Newport mansion, Beaulieu photo by RGMinNYC

John Jacob Astor moored his yacht at Ardsley Park.  from the Photograph Collections, University of Maryland

In its January 1885 issue Parsons' Memorial and Historical Library Magazine hinted that Augusta's health was failing.  It reported that her son, William, "is a clear-headed business man, and now holds the important position of minister to Rome.  He is now very desirous to return, since the feeble health of his parents required his presence."  Willie had resigned his post and was on the way home to New York.

John Jacob Astor III (image in public domain)

On October 2, 1887 The New York Times reported "Mrs. John Jacob Astor is very ill at 'Beaulieu,' Mr. Astor's palatial Summer residence, on Bellevue-avenue, and her family have decided to take her to New-York on Monday.  She has been in poor health for some time, but until recently it was thought her condition was improving."

Augusta was, in fact, seriously ill.  A special train car was hired for the journey, which The New York Times said "was not without danger to the patient."  On the evening of October 3 she was "resting quietly in the Astor residence at Fifth-avenue and Thirty-third-street."

Augusta lingered until the evening of December 12.  At her bedside was her husband, "who is himself feeble," according to The Sun; William and his wife, the former Mary Dahlgren Paul; Augusta's sister, Selah Gibbes "and a few of the old family servants, some of whom had been over thirty years in Mrs. Astor's employ."

Newspapers reported on the high esteem in which Charlotte Augusta Astor had been held.  She had continued her generous charitable gifts to the end, recently donating $225,000 to the New York Cancer Hospital.  The Statesman remarked "Mrs. Astor was in truth a most excellent woman, and her life--kind, sympathizing, just and unostentatious amid the temptations of enormous wealth--is full of useful and instructive lessons."

On February 22, 1890 The Evening World reported "The palatial mansion at Fifth avenue and thirty-third street, which lost its benevolent mistress a little more than two years ago, is without a master and America loses the chief of millionaire princes."  John Jacob Astor III had died that morning at around 4:00 of heart failure at the age of 67.

Astor's death was "wholly unlooked for," according to the newspaper.  "On the day before he was stricken he walked about five miles."  The article gave a glimpse into the household:

This morning the darkened windows and fluttering crape [sic] betokened that the home of wealth and opulence, which had been the scene of so much life and happiness, had been transformed into a house of mourning.

Servants trod the hall on tip-toe, and the liveried lackey who answered the bell to admit the few callers answered all inquiries in the faintest of whispers.

Two days later The Evening World reported "The body of John Jacob Astor, serene in the repose of death, lies to-day in the corner room on the second floor of the great brick house at the northwest corner of Fifth avenue and Thirty-third street.  It has not been embalmed, nor will it be; but it lies in a bed of ice while the room is redolent of hyacinths, violets and all kinds of fragrant blossoms."  The article said that the house, "always a gloomy one outside, is darkened and gloomy within."   The funeral at Trinity Chapel was held the following morning.

The Illustrated American commented "The late John Jacob Astor frequently said to his son William Waldorf: 'When I die you will be Mr. Astor."  William took the title seriously, and, unlike his mother, he was also serious about Mary's taking the title that was now rightfully hers, "Mrs. Astor."

William Waldorf Astor, "The" Mr. Astor.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Included in William's inheritance was Beaulieu.  He had new calling cards printed for his wife which now read "Mrs. Astor, Newport."  A very public feud was born.  

On February 21, 1891 The Illustrated American reported that during the preceding summer season "The postmaster at Newport found in his office a letter addressed to Mrs. Astor.  It was his duty to deliver it to the person addressed.  He knew of two Mrs. Astors--one Mrs. William Astor, the other Mrs. William Waldorf Astor.  Who was Mrs. Astor?"  The publication laid out the long-established protocol which clearly gave Mary Astor the distinction.  But the imperious Caroline Astor was unmovable.

The rift was too much for William to tolerate.  He laid plans to move his family permanently to England.  As a final blow to his aunt he planned to demolish the family mansion and erect in its place a livery stable.  He was persuaded, however, to build a high-end hotel instead.  A commercial structure and the resultant pedestrian and vehicular traffic would be equally annoying to Caroline Astor while reaping significant profits at the same time.

On May 29, 1890 The New York Times reported "The splendid hotel which Mrs. William W. Astor proposes to erect on the site of the old Astor homestead, at Fifth Avenue and Thirty-third Street, will, in many respects, be the finest edifice of the kind in New-York."  

The Waldorf Hotel replaced the J. J. Astor house, a parting shot in the vicious family feud. photo Mina Rees Library, The Graduate Center, CUNY 

The Waldorf Hotel, named for the village where the founder of the Astor dynasty was born, was not only a money-maker for Astor, but eventually forced his aunt to abandon her own mansion.  

She erected the Astoria Hotel on its site.  The families never totally reconciled, but did join the two hotels internally, forming the famous Waldorf-Astoria.

The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel was demolished to make way for the Empire State Building in 1930.

The 1850 John Layman House -- 1 Patchin Place

photo by Lida Drummond

When Samuel Milligan purchased a section of the former Sir Peter Warren farm in 1799, Greenwich Village was a rural hamlet.  But beginning in 1828 the population rapidly increased, caused greatly by the influx of New Yorkers fleeing the yellow fever epidemic.  Around 1848 Milligan began construction of ten working class houses on a short cul-de-sac branching off of Amos Street (later West 10th).  Not coincidentally, his surveyor, Aaron Darwin Patchin, was also his son-in-law--the husband of Isabella Milligan.  The dead-end parcel was given the name Patchin Place.

The brick-faced homes were three bays wide and rose three stories.  Simple stone lintels crowned the openings and, other than a straightforward transom above the narrow doorways, there was no attempt made at ornamentation.

As an interesting side note, the marriage of Aaron and Isabella Patchin would end pitifully.  Aaron died on December 5, 1861 deemed by the courts "a lunatic," and Isabella would appear in court for several years afterward defending claims against the debts he incurred, just one of which amounted to $10,887.02--three quarters of a million dollars in today's money.

No. 1 Patchin Place started out as a private house, home to the Layman family.  John Layman was a mason and Thomas E. Layman made his living as a sash maker.

But within two years the little house was crammed with roomers.  Among the residents in 1852 were the families of policeman Ralph Blakelock; Daniel Carpenter, a bookkeeper; shipjoiner William Cartan; carpenter John Slater; and Thomas Steel, an engineer.

Ralph Blakelock and his family remained at least through 1854.  His son, Ralph Albert Blakelock, who was just seven years old that year, would become a noted landscape artist.  (Interestingly, while city directories listed the senior Blakelock as "police," his son's biographers would later routinely call him a physician.)

Ralph Albert Blakelock spent his early years in No. 1 Patchin Place.  original source unknown

One of the families that shared the house with the Blakelocks in 1854 were the Smiths.  The family drew press attention that year following a potentially horrific accident.  

At around 6:30 on the evening of November 23 the family was sitting around the dining room table.  The New York Evening Post said "the family of Mr. Smith, at No. 1 Patchin place, was taking tea."  That may have been a polite embellishment and the family was more likely sitting down to dinner.

The room was lit by a lamp fueled with camphene, a popular but highly volatile mixture of turpentine and alcohol which produced a bright light.  Mrs. Smith held their 4-year old child on her lap.   The Morning Courier and New-York Enquirer reported that the child "pulled the table-cloth, causing the lamp to upset, and scattering the burning fluid in all directions."  The Evening Post wrote "Mrs. Smith's clothing immediately took fire, and before the flames could be extinguished she was burned in a shocking manner."

A simple two-paned overlight graces the narrow doorway of No. 1.  photo via streeteasy.com

The rapid turnover in residents was rather remarkable.  The directories show a nearly complete change in the tenant list each year.  In 1856, for instance, its residents were carpenter Emanuel Holman; Isaac Evans, a butcher whose stand was conveniently located at No. 1 Jefferson Market; and Mitchell Day, a sash maker.  Day volunteered his free time as a firefighter with the Guardian Engine Company, No. 29 at nearby at No. 14 Amos Street.

A notable exception to men who worked as laborers was Robert W. Butler, who lived in the house in 1879.  An actor and theater manager, he was most likely the first resident involved in the arts.

Typical of the tenants was Georgia Smith who was looking for a job in 1889.  Her advertisement on April 17 read "Dishwasher--Young American girl wants position as dishwasher or general worker in restaurant."  

Children of residents pose around the turn of the last century.  photo by Jessie Tarbox Beals from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Also living in the house that year was James Grant Anderson, a printer.  On the evening of May 18 he and a friend, James N. Reynolds were walking along Bleecker Street, between West 10th and Christopher Streets.  Walking just ahead of them were two other men, William Warren and William Collier.

Suddenly, according to Reynolds, "some dirt was thrown at them.  It scattered over their clothes, and also fell on Warren and Collier."   Warren turned and accused Anderson of having thrown the ashes.  He denied it and, after heated words, a fight broke out.  The young printer was pummeled.  When Warren and Collier walked off Anderson was unresponsive on the pavement.  Reynolds carried him to a drugstore on the corner and an ambulance was called.  By the time it arrived, the man was dead.  Warren was arrested and charged with murder.

By the turn of the century Greenwich Village had become Manhattan's Bohemia--home to artists, musicians, writers and poets.  The gradual change was reflected in the tenant list of No. 1 Patchin Place.  Among the residents in 1909 were two unmarried women, Elizabeth Irwin and Mary Hopkins.  They dedicated much of their time to work with the New York City Children's Hospital and School on Randall's Island.  

Elizabeth B. Westwood lived in the house at around the same time.  A 1903 graduate of Smith College, she was a short story writer and her financial and social status contrasted starkly with her 19th century predecessors at the address.  A member of the Women's University Club, the Gamut Club, and the Lyceum Club of London, she had a summer home in New Fairfield, Connecticut.  The feisty author was as well a member of the Woman Suffrage Party.  She was still living in the Patchin Place house when she died at the age of 35 on July 26, 1915.

When photographed in 1915, Patchin Place was open to the public until 1929.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The most celebrated tenants of No. 1 quite possibly were also its briefest.  Journalist Louise Bryant was best known for her sympathetic reporting of the Bolsheviks during the 1917 Russian Revolution.  Her journalist husband, John Silas Reed was even more renowned for his open support for the revolutionary government.  An avowed Socialist, his actions resulted in his being charged with sedition and treason.

Louise Bryant would looked much as she did in this portrait, painted by John Henry Trullinger in 1913, when she lived in No. 1 Patchin Place.  from the Oregon Encyclopedia

Louise Bryant leased rooms here in July 1918.  The arcane alley was most likely chosen as a good hiding place for the fugitive.  While they lived in the apartment, Reed's article "The Case for the Bolsheviki" was published in The Independent and his "Kerensky is Coming!" appeared in The Liberator.  The couple did not stay long.  In the autumn of that same year they moved to No. 147 West 4th Street.

John Silas Reed was hiding out from authorities during his stay here.  original source unknown

Scientist Sarah Ellen Davis was living in No. 1 in 1920.  Highly-educated, she graduated from Bryn Mawr College in 1903 and from its graduate school in 1906.  She then studied at the University of Leipsic and the University of Zurich.  Living here the following year was journalist John Williams Crawford,  the assistant editor of the Daily Garment News.

It was perhaps the increasingly affluent status of the tenants of Patchin Place that resulted in its being gated-off in 1929.  What had once been a rather common off-shoot of West 10th Street now bore the appearance of an exclusive enclave.

In 1965 No. 1 Patchin Place received a renovation that resulted in an apartment on the first floor and a duplex above it.  The first-floor apartment was used as the headquarters of the newly-formed commercial radio production company, No Soap Radio, Ltd., in 1971.  A journalist who visited the office in November 1971 said it "is equipped with a shaggy rug, chrome and velvet rocking chairs, a fireplace, and a poster portrait of (we think) Clara Bow."  

The ground floor space was officially converted to an office in 1975.  In 1993 Dr. Shelly Menolascino, a psychiatrist and acupuncturist, opened her office here.  Writing in The New York Times in 2003 David Koeppel noted "Most patients seem to appreciate the privacy of the mews; no doormen, receptionists, or uncomfortable elevator rides with strangers."

photo by Beyond My Ken

After 170 years Patchin Place is almost unchanged.  And from the street No. 1 looks much as it did when the hard-working Layman family moved in in 1850.

many thanks to Lida Drummond for prompting this post

The Augustus L. Nosser House - 178 East 72nd Street

August Ludwig Nosser was born in 1819 in Germany.  His wife, the former Johanna Caroline Buchelman, was born in Bradenburg, Germany in 1830.  The couple had three sons when they moved into the skinny neo-Grec style rowhouse at No. 178 East 72nd Street.  Henry Nosser was born on August 7, 1854, Charles on January 3, 1862, and August Louis, Jr. arrived on August 20, 1873.

At just two bays and 16-feet wide, the brownstone-faced house was intended for a merchant-class family.  One of a long row of identical homes, its neo-Grec design included architrave windows with molded cornices and brackets, a projecting, columned portico above the stoop with its stone railings and newels, and a stylish metal cornice.

No. 178 is at the left.  The middle house, No. 176, had already lost its stoop when this photo was taken. photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

August and Johanna worked as partners in real estate, buying and selling properties throughout the city.  But August took time from wheeling and dealing to try his luck at a newspaper contest in 1888.   In October The Evening World challenged readers to predict the three coldest days of the coming winter.  The winner would receive $100--a significant $2,700 today.  August was confident in his prediction:

To the Editor of the Evening World:
     I am quite certain that the coldest three days of the approaching Winter will be Dec. 26, 1888; Jan. 19, 1889, and Feb. 3, 1889.

Whether he won the grand prize or not is unknown.

Henry Nosser had died in 1876.  His brothers remained in the East 72nd Street house with their parents.  As they matured Charles joined the real estate business while August focused on music, at one point studying the violin in Belgium.

Early on the morning of May 16, 1894 the house was thrown into turmoil.  Shortly before 7:00 a servant, Annie Bennett, went out to get milk, leaving the basement door open.  That did not go unnoticed by John Smith who was standing on the opposite side of the street.  When Annie was out of sight, Smith bolted across the street and into the house.  On the hat rack in the entrance hall were three expensive overcoats.  Smith put them on over his own and headed out.

But as he reached the basement door he came face-to-face with Annie.  "The girl gave a scream that could be heard a block away," reported The Evening World.  Charles had just arisen.  His bedroom was on the second floor and, upon hearing Annie's cries, "jumped down the stairs in an improvised costume."

Smith was already headed towards Madison Avenue with Annie right behind yelling "for all she was worth."  Charles, said the newspaper, "shouted 'Stop thief!' and every one who appeared on the street took up the hue and cry."  Neighbors, roused from their beds by the commotion, saw a remarkable sight.  "It was a picturesque chase, too, for the pursued wore three stolen coats, besides one of his own, and the pursuer wore only a night-shirt and a pair of trousers."  The coat-thieving culprit was captured by Policeman John H. Wagner three blocks from the Nosser house.

On October 29, 1895 Johanna Nosser died in the house at the age of 65.  Her funeral was held there two days later.   August survived her by only five months, dying on March 25, 1896.  Rather surprisingly, given the expected Victorian mourning protocol, Charles was married before the year was out.  

The title to the house remained in the Nosser Estate and the brothers leased it late that year to millionaire Lazarus Morgenthau.  He was a cigar manufacturer, "compounder" of patent medicines, and philantropist.  Morgenthau intended to use No. 178 both as his home and as the headquarters of his newly-founded and exhaustingly-named New York German-American Non-Sectarian Orphan Dowry Society.

On January 4, 1897 the New York Herald reported that the society's rooms "were opened to the public for inspection last evening."  Morgenthau explained the creative concept behind the society.  Orphans "of any creed" who passed a careful vetting process, would receive a wedding ceremony, $100 at the time of the marriage, and, "at the end of five years, if the couple are found worthy and live happily together, a sum of money amounting to about $400 shall be paid to the wife, or in case of her death to her children."

Lazarus Morgenthau New York journal and Advertiser, August 21, 1897 (copyright expired)

The cost of the weddings and the dowries was paid for by donations.  The New York Herald said "The list of subscribers is to be kept in what is called the 'Golden Book of Life.'"

Two rooms on the parlor floor were transformed into what Morgenthau called "The Temple of Humanity."  On the evening of February 13 the first of the weddings was held here.  Bertha Horowitz was married to Isaac Hoffman in the presence of about 25 or 30 people.  Alderman John Jeroloman, who performed the ceremony, placed a $100 gold piece in the bride's hand.

But six months later Morgenthau's name appeared in newsprint for much less altruistic reasons.  In May 1897 he hired a married couple as his housekeeper and gardener.   Regina Greenberger was 24 years old.  According to her, by July Morgenthau had "become very affectionate toward her."  At one point he told her "that his physician had informed him that if he wished to bring back his youth he should seek the love of some young woman."  

Rita, whom the New York Journal and Advertiser described as "a woman of 300 pounds" went to the Legal Aid Society, saying that Morgenthau "was so importunate that she felt insulted."  The millionaire was summoned to court on July 15, charged by his housekeeper with "making love to her," according to The Sun.

Morgenthau's attorney used Rita's physicality against her.  "You see, Judge," he said, "this woman might properly be classed as a heavy weight and could easily pick up this feeble old man and throw him out of the window if he attempted to insult her."  Rita, who spoke only German, answered through an interpreter that she was afraid she might hurt him.  And when asked why she did not simply call her husband she said she "was afraid he might kill Morgenthau."

The judge did not deem Rita Greenberger's story plausible and he dismissed the case.  The Greenbergers had to find new jobs.

In the meantime, Morgenthau was experiencing financial troubles.  The New York Journal and Advertiser explained on August 21, 1897 "Various ventures in which he was deeply interested have failed of late, and he could not stand the accumulated pressure."  With his fortune suddenly depleted, his health failed.  He was forced to leave East 72nd Street and move into a boarding house.  And the activities of the Orphan Dowry Society came to an end.  The New York Journal and Advertiser lamented "Husbandless orphan women have lost a friend."

A sheriff's sale of Morgenthau's furniture took place in the house on August 24, 1897.  A newspaper commented "His collection of crayon drawings, including pictures of some twoscore famous men, ancient and modern, will be sold."  Listed among the fallen mogul's creditors was Charles Nosser, to whom he owed $262.95 in back rent (just over $8,000 today).

It appears that August and Charles played tug-of-war concerning who had control of their parents' home.   On July 25, 1898 the Record & Guide said "August L. 'otherwise Louis'" had given Eleanor M. Hall a three-year, $10,000 mortgage on the property.  But three months later, on November 5, Charles gave Benjamin P. Ducas a $3,000 mortgage.   The dispute seems to have been settled when neither Hall nor Ducas took possession and, instead, Charles and his wife, Lillian Emiline, moved back into the house.

By now the couple had a child, Henry.  In 1899 Antonette was born, followed by twins Gertrude and Gladys in 1900, and Charles Joseph in 1902.

As many families did, the couple rented spare rooms.  In 1899 Frank Knapp lived here.  He was appointed a commissioner of deeds that year, a position similar to a notary public today.   Knapp and another boarder, Milton Lamburger, became heroes on February 27, 1900.  The two heard screams for help and discovered the house next door at No. 180, now being operated as a rooming house, was in flames.  

The top floor was occupied by the family of Berthold Bernheim.  The Morning Telegraph reported "Bernheim has a large family, but the children were at school at his wife was out shopping.  No one was at home but his aged and feeble mother and himself."  When he discovered his kitchen ablaze, "Bernheim rushed for the front windows and called loudly for help."  Knapp and Lamburger ran up the stairs and carried the elderly woman to safety.

Like all financially comfortable couples, the Nossers held dinner parties and receptions.  On February 11, shortly before the frightening incident next door, the New York Herald had reported "Mr. and Mrs. Charles Nosser entertained Wednesday evening at their residence, No. 178 East Seventy-second street."

Charles sold the 72nd Street house in 1904.  The new owner was the well-known Jewish actor Jacob P. Adler and his wife, Sarah.

Yiddish theater star Jacob P. Adler from the Harvard Theater Collection, Harvard University

In the meantime, August's musical career had faltered.  He was married in 1901 to Eva Haines.  At the time, according to the New York Sun, "He made fairly good money playing with orchestras in this city, and he and his wife were happy."  But trouble came.  The newspaper went on, "In the course of time, Nosser developed a passion for gambling, and this caused him to desert his violin, especially from a wage earning point of view.  He became what might be termed a successful gambler, and soon had a well patronized poker 'club' on one of the side streets of the Tenderloin."  His gambling house on West 13th Street was known as the Wall Street Club.

The Minneapolis Journal described Nosser as "a handsome man, dressed in faultless style, and...a sort of Beau Brummel of the Tenderloin, which knew him as 'Cupid'...Gambling was his only source of income."  But things went wrong.  Nosser lost his fortune--at one point estimated at $500,000 (in the neighborhood of $15 million today)--and in 1905 he declared bankruptcy.  The Sun reported "Mrs. Nosser, shortly after her husband went into bankruptcy, was shocked to learn that he was addicted to the use of opium."  The costly habit had contributed to the collapse of his finances.

August had another secret, as well: chorus girl Estelle Young.   Eva and August were living at the Pierrepont Hotel in March 1906 when Eva learned that August planned to sail to Europe taking Estelle with him.  She sent a note pleading with her to leave her husband alone.  Estelle, who had not known August was married, was enraged.  The 26-year old stormed off to the Pierrepont Hotel on the afternoon of March 14 with a rawhide dog whip in her jacket and with every intention of using it.

But when she arrived at the Nosser apartment, she changed her mind.  She berated August for his deceit and begged Eva for forgiveness.  While she explained how she was lured into the affair, Nosser paced back and forth, then walked into the bathroom.  The women heard a thump and found him on the floor with an empty laudanum bottle by his side.

Nosser had not taken enough of the poison to kill him.  A doctor advised the two former rivals to stay up with him overnight, walking him to keep him from falling asleep.  At 4:00, with Nosser apparently out of danger, Estelle said she was exhausted.  Eva prepared her a bed in the front room where Estelle fell asleep.

Around 8:00 a.m. Eva stepped into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face to keep herself alert.  Suddenly the door was shut and she heard the lock click.  While she struggled with the doorknob, she her a loud bang.  And then another.

Escaping through the hall door, she beat on the apartment door until a porter used his pass key.  Inside they found the bodies of Estelle and August.  He had shot himself in the head after murdering Estelle.

It is unclear how long the Adlers remained in No. 178.  In 1910 it was leased to the Church of the Holy Communion, located far downtown at Sixth Avenue and 20th Street.  The three-year lease came with a total rent of $22,000.

The house was sold to Thomas Crimmins in 1919 and given a renovation, completed in 1920.  It may have been at this time that the stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to street level.  Interestingly, Crimmins lived next door at No. 176.  His sister, Mercedes, and her husband David Challinor moved into the updated house.  

Like most socialites, Mercedes was active in charitable causes.  On December 17, 1925 The New York Times reported "Mrs. David Challinor gave a tea yesterday afternoon at her home, 178 East Seventy-second Street, for the young women who will sell programs at the music festival in aid of the Reconstruction Hospital."  

Living in the Crimmins house next door was Herbert Lloyd, the son of Thomas's wife by a former marriage.  On November 19, 1928 Herbert was married to Josephine Munroe.  The Chicago wedding was deemed by the New York Evening Post "One of the most important of the several out-of-town weddings of the new year."

The stoop had been removed by 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

When the Challinors moved out of No. 178 East 72nd Street, Herbert Lloyd and his family moved in.  The couple had two daughters, Joan Herbert and Josephine Logan.  

On December 15, 1950 Joan's parents announced her engagement to Peter de Lancey Wallace.  The prospective groom's social pedigree was impressive.  The New York Times noted that he was "a descendant of Isaac Shelby, first Governor of Kentucky; Maj. Gen. William Alexander, and Lord Stirling, he is related also to the de Lancey, Van Cortlandt and Livingston families of New York."  The wedding took place on January 27, 1951 in the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church with the bride's sister serving as the maid of honor.

It was most likely the alteration completed in 1975 that shaved off what was left of the Victorian detailing and removed the cornice.  A commercial space was created in the former basement and a two-family home above.  The Livingstone-Learmonth Gallery would operate from the lower space for several years.

In 1981 the restoration architectural firm of Beyer-Binder-Belle recreated the lost brownstone details in stucco and reproduced the lost cornice.  Today the narrow Nosser house looks a bit lonely, the last surviving relic of the 1870's row.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Holly Tooker for prompting this post