The John Langdon Erving House - 62 East 80th Street

 

John Langdon Erving was 38 years old when he was "very quietly" married to Alice H. Rutherford on November 4, 1904.  The wedding had originally been planned to take place in Newport, The New York Times predicting that it would be "the leading social event of the season."  But the death of Alice's mother, Emma Hanchett Rutherford Crocker, on July 26, 1904, changed things.  The understated ceremony was held in the mansion of the bride's step-father at 1 East 64th Street.

Erving had an illustrious pedigree.  On his father's side was John Erving, who was born in 1692, settled in Boston and made a fortune in that city.  His mother, Cornelia Paterson Van Rensselaer, came from one of the oldest and most prestigious families in New York.  A businessman, Erving was perhaps better known to New Yorkers for his connections to Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst's civic reforms.  

A year after his marriage, on November 11, 1905, the Record & Guide reported that J. Langdon Erving had purchased  the "4-story high stoop dwelling" at 62 East 80th Street for $50,000 (the price would translate to about $1.84 million in 2025).  The article said, "Mr. Erving will alter the house this spring to a white stone American basement dwelling."

Built in 1883 by Terence Farley and designed by Thom & Wilson, the brownstone-fronted house was architecturally outdated.  Erving hired the architectural firm of Albro & Lindeberg to bring it into the Edwardian Era.  Their plans, filed in March 1906, would result in what was essentially a new, five-story residence.  The "extensive alterations," as described in the plans, would cost the Ervings $16,000 (about $576,000 today).

Albro & Lindeberg removed the brownstone front and stoop, and pulled the facade forward to the property line.  The Colonial Revival design was faced in rough (or "common"), variegated brick above a limestone base.  French windows at the second floor, or piano nobile, sat below stone tympana inset with veined stone rondels.  The openings of the third and fourth floors were grouped, and the fifth story took the form of a dormered mansard behind a stone balustrade.

American Architect and Building News, May 6, 1908 (copyright expired)

In an article titled "The Passing of the Brownstone Front" in the April 1910 issue of The International Studio mentioned,

One method of giving the servants direct access from the kitchen to the street by independent passage is to cut off part of the space from the entrance hall and provide a narrow corridor on the same level, as has been done in the case of the house for Mr. Erving.

Servants entered into a long passageway that circumvented the family area.  The International Studio, April 1910 (copyright expired)

Albro & Lindeberg's Colonial motif was carried into the interiors.  The Ervings enhanced the early American design with antiques and high-end reproductions.

The Ervings' entrance hall (above) and drawing room reflected the home's Colonial Revival architecture.  The American Architect and Building News, May 6, 1908 (copyright expired)

Somewhat surprisingly, J. Langdon and Alice Erving did not enjoy their new home for especially long.  In 1912, they relocated to Santa Barbara, California.  Perhaps anticipating that they would eventually return, they retained possession of the East 80th Street house.

The couple leased it to Ethel Kingsland in March 1912.  Born in 1886, Ethel was the great-niece of Caroline Schermerhorn Astor.  The Kingsland family arrived in America in the 17th century.  Ethel's father, railroad tycoon George Lovett Kingsland, died when she was six years old.  Her mother, the former Helen Schermerhorn Welles, died in the family's mansion at 62 Fifth Avenue on February 14, 1911.  

Propriety required that the 26-year-old unmarried woman did not live alone.  Her bachelor brother, George L. Kingsland, Jr., initially moved into the house with her.  The arrangement would change three years later.

On June 19, 1915, Ethel's sister, Helen Schermerhorn Kingsland Morris, announced Ethel's engagement to Dr. Walter P. Anderton.  The prospective groom graduated from Harvard in 1908 and then from the College of Physicians and Surgeons.  The wedding took place in the East 80th Street house just five days later.  The Sun reported, "It was a simple wedding and there were present about twenty relatives and intimate friends."  Saying that after the newlyweds' honeymoon "automobile trip of several weeks," they would live at 62 East 80th Street.

Presumably with the permission of their landlords, in April 1916, Ethel and Walter Anderton hired architect S. Edson Gage to make $15,000 worth of interior alterations to the house.  But, then again, perhaps the Ervings had not permitted the alterations.  Just three months later, on July 22, 1916, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. J. Langdon Erving [leased] the four-story [sic] dwelling at 62 East Eightieth Street to W. C. Breed."

William Constable Breed was born in 1870.  A member of the law firm Breed, Abbott & Morgan, he married Eugenie Stiles in 1896.  They had two sons, William, Jr., who was 12 when they moved in; and Alan Ryder, who was six.  (Two other children had died in infancy.)  The couple's summer home was in Brookhaven, Long Island.

William Constable Breed's portrait was painted by David Berney.  (private collection)

While Eugenie busied herself with social activities (she was a member of the Daughters of Indiana, for instance), William was highly involved in civic affairs.  When America entered World War I, he became chairman of the Greater New York's American Red Cross Second War Fund drive, and chairman of the Red Cross Disaster Relief Committee for Greater New York.  

On July 13, 1921, the Long Island Daily Press reported, "A drive will be made at the anti-Hyland conferences...to name William Constable Breed, a Manhattan lawyer, for the Republican Mayoralty designation."  The article noted that in addition to his various other positions, he was "president of the Merchants' Association of New York."  (As it turned out, Breed was not nominated.)

After renting their home for a decade, the Ervings sold 62 East 80th Street in July 1922 to Joaquin Enrique Zanetti for $80,000 (about $1.5 million today).  Born in the Dominican Republic on January 20, 1885, Zanetti graduated from Harvard College magna cum laude in 1906 and received his Ph.D. in chemistry from Harvard University in 1909.  

During World War I, Zanetti served in the Chemical Warfare Service, attaining a rank of lieutenant colonel.  Following the war, he served as a Chemical Officer in the army reserves and was a consulting expert on chemical warfare for the League of Nations.

Joaquin Enrique Zanetti, via home.army.mil 

When the family moved in, Zanetti was an associate professor at Columbia University.  (He would become a full professor in 1929.)  

He and his wife had at least one son, Enrique Carlos.  His engagement to George Pearson was announced on May 8, 1933.  (The bride-to-be shared her unusual first name with her father.)

By the late 1930s, 62 East 80th Street was home to science writer Walter Seager Sullivan, Jr. and his wife, Mary.  Sullivan was the science editor of The New York Times, which said:

His reports stretched the minds of newspaper readers, as he told of the marvels of the restless earth and violent universe and the audacity of the people trying to understand them.

The Sullivans were followed by the family of Walter Neale, here by the early 1950s.   The residence was sold in 1954 to A. K. Rubin.

Still a single-family home, 62 East 80th Street externally is little changed since the newly wedded Ervings transformed the outdated brownstone.

photographs by the author

The 1892 437-439 West 44th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

On May 30, 1891, Samuel Hirsch purchased two four-story frame houses at 437 and 439 West 44th Street from Garret A. and Eliza Wanmaker.  Two weeks later, on June 13, the Record & Guide reported that contractor John B. Lowther "will build a five-story flat on the plot," saying the "old buildings are to be torn down."  The project was a tangled affair--Hirsch had sold the properties to William G. Jordan, who became owner of record for the coming building.  Upon its completion, Jordan sold it to Hirsch.  The back-and-forth transactions would result in lawsuits later.

The brick-faced building was a mélange of styles.  The first and fifth floors drew mostly from Romanesque Revival.  The windows of the first floor took the form of large arches within striking frames of beige Roman brick.  The stone hood over the entrance with its foliate brackets, however, was Renaissance Revival.

The entrance pilasters and hood were removed in the second half of the 20th century.  Deft brickwork creates the striking first floor surrounds and the faux quoins at the second.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The three-story mid-section was clad in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  The splayed lintels and the faux quoins--created by using the same beige brick of the first floor--were neo-Colonial in style.  An interesting intermediate cornice of stepped brick introduced the fifth floor.  Here, an Arts & Crafts style full-width panel with rosettes ran above the arched openings.  A deeply overhanging metal cornice completed the design.

Among the first occupants of the large apartments (there were two per floor) was Dr. A. L. Gnichtel.  At around 9:00 on the night of September 18, 1893, he answered a frantic knock at his door.  Living directly across the street, at 441 West 44th Street, were George Simmons and his unmarried sister, Martha.  George was a "wire-worker" and Martha, according to The Evening Post, "has been an invalid for thirteen years."  She had suffered a serious bout of influenza earlier that year.  The newspaper said, "Ever since an attack of grip last spring, her mind has been more or less affected, and she had to be watched constantly."

That night, George discovered his sister, "lying on the floor covered with blood, with the razor in her hand."  Martha had cut her throat.  Fortunately, Dr. Gnichtel was nearby.  He rushed across the street and dressed the wound before sending her to Bellevue Hospital.  The Evening Post said she, "may recover."

Dr. Gnichtel regularly published articles in medical journals, and was an associate editor of The Medical Examiner and Practitioner.  

The residents of 437-439 West 44th Street were affluent enough that at least one, merchant John B. McCuag, could afford a bicycle--a rabidly popular and pricey hobby in the 1890s.  On October 10, 1897, he accidentally hit a dog but, instead of stopping, pedaled on.  The World sarcastically reported, "A very unappreciative woman is Mrs. Foley.  When John B. McCaug, of No. 439 West Forty-fourth street, rode his wheel bravely over her pet dog and still kept his equilibrium, she did not realize that he had performed a feat worthy of applause, but on the contrary raised a din compared to which the tuneful cayoodling of the canine was as a tempest to a whisper."  

The enraged Mrs. Foley pursued McCuag.  Her cries attracted Policeman Beadle who "overhauled him."  The World reported that the "dog and man and irate woman faced the majesty of the law and Magistrate Hedges," and recounted:

"It seems to me your dog has not been injured," said the Magistrate.  "I will discharge the prisoner."

"Oh, sir," implored the woman, with a look of fond appreciation toward her pet.  "Don't do that.  He may feel worse to-morrow."

But the Magistrate was firm, and McCuag went his way.

McCuag would appear in a more positive light when he donated $5.00 to The Merchants' Association of New York's Relief Fund for the victims of the San Francisco earthquake and fire.  (His donation would translate to about $180 in 2025.)

Among the residents in 1909 were H. Thomas Stevenson and  William H. Martin.  That year Martin and two partners incorporated The Eccentric Packing & Engineers' Supply Co.  Stevenson was an elder in the Faith Presbyterian Church on West 48th Street.

R. E. Bartlett was looking for a job in January 1913.  Her highly unusual advertisement in The New York Times read:

Housekeeper or Governess:  Public school teacher possessing voice, rare quality, judged by masters, desires position for purpose continuing study; five years' experience house manager and cooking; Protestant; age 25.  Write or call, 7 to 9 P.M., R. E. Bartlett, 437 West 44th St.

Another resident placed a somewhat unexpected advertisement in the New York Evening Telegram in 1916:  "Hawaiian steel guitar taught by one knowing correct style of Hawaiian playing.  Cunningham, 437-439 West 44th."

Finley W. Gilpin was born in Winterset, Iowa in 1875 and relocated to New York City in 1910.  The actor appeared "in stock productions in this city and in New England," said the New-York Tribune.  When his brother, Victor G. Gilpin, who lived in Brooklyn, could not get in touch with him on September 5, 1920, he went to his apartment to check on him.  The New York Times reported, "With jets open and his room filled with gas, Philip [sic] Gilpin, 45 years old, was found dead in bed at his home."  Victor told reporters that "his brother had been despondent of late because he had been out of work," said the article.

Prohibition turned some respectable citizens into criminals, like laborer Frank Rodell, who lived here in 1925.  On September 3, The New York Times reported that he and three others had been arrested "on charges of transporting and attempting to smuggle liquor into this port."  They were in cahoots with French sailors.  The four men had gone to the French liner De Grasse--two in a sailboat and two on foot--in the cover of night.  The pair who boarded the ship met 10 sailors who, according to the newspaper, "aided them in getting thirty quarts of champagne and forty quarts of brandy into burlap bags which were lowered over the ship's side into the junk boat."

All four then sailed northward, but they did not get far.  The marine police's Patrol Boat 7 overtook them at 58th Street.  Questioned by officials, Rodell and his accomplices refused to disclose the names of the French sailors.

Another resident to run afoul of Prohibition agents was Gaetano Venturereio.  On January 23, 1932, Federal agents raided the Michael Laura Club, "an important Italian-American Democratic unit," as described by The New York Times.  The article said there were about a dozen patrons in the club when undercover agents "went immediately to the barroom in the rear."  They later testified that they "purchased a drink of whisky for 75 cents."  A search revealed "a considerable quantity of alleged liquor."  Among the four men arrested as running the club was Gaetano Venturereio.

Resident Mario Friaglia, a pedophile, was rescued by police on August 8, 1938.  That evening the 23-year-old had convinced two girls, six and eight years old, to meet him in a vacant lot.  One of the girls told her parents.  It would not be his intended victims who were waiting for him.  Instead, Friaglia met with what The New York Sun described as "a menacing mob."  Police arrived and "save him" from street justice.  Friaglia pleaded guilty to morals charges.

In 1941 workers were on site to paint the recently-installed fire escapes.  The entrance hood and the cornice were intact.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Law enforcement was much more focused on another resident, John "Apple" Applegate, who listed his profession as a longshoreman.  Applegate was, in fact, an "enforcer" with the Bowers mob.  A bachelor, he was arrested under the name of Joseph Lawson in 1933 for burglary and sentenced to Sing Sing for two-and-a-half years.  Now paroled, he operated from 437-439 West 44th Street.

In December 1946, he and Vincent Wice got into a fight in a bar and grill on Tenth Avenue.  Wice slashed Applegate's face with a broken bottle resulting in his hospitalization and subsequent plastic surgery.  Applegate did not forget the incident.

Time magazine later said that "Apples" instructed Dominick Genova, "This guy has got to go and I want somebody...to take care of him."  Six months later, on June 15, 1947, Wice was on West 47th Street between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues when, despite the throngs of pedestrians around him, he was murdered by a machine gun wielding assailant.  The New York Times reported that the 42-year-old Applegate, "was booked as a material witness" in the murder.  After 18 hours of questioning at the station house and further interrogation at the District Attorney's office the following morning, Applegate still insisted he knew nothing of the murder and never met Wice.

The net would slowly close in on Applegate.  On September 4, 1952, The New York Times reported that the New York State Crime Commission had subpoenaed the financial records of "Joseph (or John) (alias John Lawson) Applegate."  The mobster was most likely shocked when one of the Commission's star witnesses against Applegate was Dominick Genova.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

Around the Depression years, an Art Moderne-style fire escape was installed on the facade.  Later, after 1941, the stone entrance frame and hood were removed and the cornice taken down.  Despite the vandalism, the eccentric 1892 building survives relatively intact.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

Rutherford Stuyvesant's 1879 104 East 10th Street

 

photograph by the author

Around 1846, a two-story office building was erected at 180 Tenth Street (renumbered 104 East 10th Street in 1865).  It sat on property owned by Peter Gerard Stuyvesant and his sister, Elizabeth.  The building would be used by Stuyvesant and his long-term real estate manager, Thomas Macfarlan, who lived next door at 178 Tenth.  Peter Gerard Stuyvesant died the following year, and his nephew, Hamilton Fish, took over the real estate operation.

In 1879, Rutherford Stuyvesant (a grand-nephew of Peter Gerard Stuyvesant and nephew of Hamilton Fish) replaced 104 East 10th Street with a three-story brick house.  The architectural firm, quite likely, was Peter T. O'Brien & Sons, which was simultaneously remodeling 102 East 10th Street next door for Rutherford.

Faced in red brick above a brownstone basement, the house straddled the Italianate and neo-Grec styles.  The molded lintels and stoop ironwork reflected the former, while the paneled doors and angular cornice brackets were pure neo-Grec.

Like many of the residents of the block, the first occupants of 104 East 10th Street rented their extra rooms.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on November 22, 1879 read:  "A private family will let, to gentlemen only, two handsomely furnished rooms, bath, fire in room and all the modern conveniences, in a new house, 104 East 10th st., between 2d and 3d avs."

The family continued to take in roomers, their advertisements clearly not offering meals.  One appeared in the New York Herald on May 14 that year read: 

A handsome furnished room to let; hot and cold running water; use of bath; in a private family; also use of parlor and piano; can be seen Sunday.

And the following year, on March 9, an advertisement offered: "Parlor--Southern exposure; two rooms on second floor; modern improvements; house heated; no moving in May; central location; good neighborhood."

As early as 1891, Dr. Franklin D. Lawson and his family occupied the house.  Born in Boston in 1866, he received his medical degree from Columbia University in 1890.  His wife was the former Pauline Nurnberger.

Lawson's passion for medicine was equaled--or surpassed--by his love of music.  Perhaps the first hint of that came in a letter to The Evening World's column, "Out of the Mail Bag" in August 1891.  The column answered readers questions.  Lawson wrote:

Is it allowable, according to law, for a professor of music to put on a card or sign the letters 'M.D.' after his name, which are to mean musical director?

(The editors replied that they knew of no such law.)

Lawson attempted to intercede in the death sentence of Carlyle W. Harris, who was convicted of murdering his wife in April 1893.  Lawson had known him since they were classmates in college.  He wrote a letter to Governor Roswell P. Flower, which the The New York Times encapsulated.  An article on April 9 said in part, "Speaking as a physician, he says that medical experts would not have convicted Harris upon the testimony brought out in his trial."  From a more personal perspective, "As a classmate he speaks of Harris in terms of warm admiration, and says that it is inconceivable to him that Harris could have been guilty of poisoning his wife."  And from a simply logical viewpoint, Lawson opined, "If he had wished to commit this crime he certainly would not have employed a poison so easily traceable as morphine."

Lawson's attempts to clear Harris were unsuccessful.  He was electrocuted in Sing Sing prison on May 7, 1893.

Shortly afterward, Dr. Lawson succumbed to the lure of music.  He traveled to Paris to study singing.  Upon returning to New York, he sang tenor solos in fashionable churches like St. Bartholomew's and St. Thomas's, and in 1902 became a member of the Metropolitan Opera.

In the meantime, 104 East 10th Street was home to Dr. Robert Theyson, who, like previous occupants, rented rooms.  Some were quite respectable, like a man named Savas, who hoped to become a baker.  His somewhat desperate sounding advertisement under "bakers" in the New York Journal and Advertiser on December 19, 1898 read: "Single, sober man, over 30, wants to learn trade, working six weeks for board, lodging; anywhere."

Other roomers were not so upstanding.  Alexander Leonard was arrested on September 13, 1904, "accused of receiving stolen goods," according to The New York Times.

Dr. Theyson was called to the home of Fred Luscher where he found C. B. Lynch "in a serious condition," as reported by The Daily Standard.  Luscher had severely beaten Lynch after he came home and found him hiding in a closet.  In court, Theyson testified that Lynch's condition was the result of "blows evidentially struck by fists."  Luscher defended himself to the court, saying "he has not approved of Lynch's attitude towards his wife."  The jury agreed and discharged Luscher.  They immediately charged Lynch with grand larceny, since there were valuables in the closet.

The house, along with 102 East 10th Street, was sold in January 1921.  The change of ownership did not greatly lessen the tenants' problems with the law. 

On July 19, 1926, Joseph Scheresson appeared in court with his bulldog to defend against charges made by Issie Lyons, who lived at 110 East 10th Street.  Lyons claimed that on July 10, the dog "ripped his brand new trousers and dug his teeth in his right leg," as reported by The New York Times.  The article said, "Entering the court room, Lyons limped and displayed in his hands a badly ripped pair of trousers."

Scheresson testified that at the time of the alleged attack, his dog was muzzled.  Calling Lyons's charges "spite work," he told the judge, "I'm 35 years old, and I never told a lie in my life."

Displaying Solomon-like wisdom, Magistrate Corrigan took Lyons into his chambers and had him take off his pants.  On the leg he alleged was bitten, was "a small red mark."  The New York Times reported, "The Magistrate said the bulldog must have had only one tooth and then dismissed the charge."

The Great Depression resulted in out-of-work vagrants, callously referred to at the time as "hobos" and "bums."  Oscar Mathews had worked in the Holland Hotel in Beacon, New York prior to the Crash.  Now, in 1932, he lived in a room here.  Somehow, he ended up back in Beacon on August 25.  At 3:20 the following morning, Officer Samuel Rogers "found him loitering in the vicinity of the New York Central railroad station," reported The Beacon News.  Officials in the town had no patience for out-of-town vagrants.  Mathews spent the night in jail and was released the following morning "on his promise to get out of town."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

At some point in the second half of the century, the brick facade was painted beige and the brownstone painted white.  In 2016 a restoration to a single-family home was initiated by Michael K. Chen Architecture, PLLC.  Working with preservationist Katherine Redd, the facade was cleaned and repaired, and the ironwork restored.

image via Michael K. Chen Architecture, PLCC

The 1896 Adolph B. Ansbacher House - 41 West 87th Street

 

Architect Theodore E. Thompson designed five 20-foot wide houses on the north side of West 87th Street between Central Park West and Columbus Avenue for developer James Carew in 1895.  Like its identical neighbors, 41 West 87th Street was completed the following year, its Renaissance Revival-style brownstone facade splashed with touches of Romanesque Revival.  

A dog-legged box stoop with pierced wing walls rose above the rough-cut basement level to the double-doored entrance flanked with handsome Corinthian pilasters.  Elaborately carved Renaissance-inspired panels decorated the parlor level, the windows of which sat atop carved, faux balustrades.  A two-story oriel dominated the upper floors and a pressed metal cornice decorated with a row of slender colonettes crowned the design.

At the time, the family of Adolph B. Ansbacher lived in a four-story house at 17 West 52nd Street, just around the corner from William Henry Vanderbilt's Triple Palace.  Ansbacher sold that house to Thomas Denny in 1895 for, according to the Record & Guide, about $90,000.  (The figure would translate to about $3.47 million in 2025.)  He and his wife, the former Frances V. Eger, purchased 41 West 87th Street.  Moving from what was known as Millionaires' Row made economical sense.  The Record & Guide reported that they paid "a little less than $40,000."

Born in Bavaria in 1831, Ansbacher was the head of A. B. Ansbacher & Co.  He was described by America's Successful Men of Affairs as, "one of the leading merchants of paints."  He was, as well, a founder and director of Mount Sinai Hospital.

Just over a decade after purchasing 41 West 87th Street, the Ansbachers moved again, this time to Central Park West.  They sold the house on March 1, 1906 to Dr. Clarence Degrand Ashley, Ph.D. 

Ashley was born on July 4, 1851 in Boston.  His family, said the New-York Tribune, "has been well known since the days of settlement."  He married Isabella Heyward Ripely on August 12, 1880 in Geneva, Switzerland.  The couple had three children, Edith Heyward, Clarence Degrand, and Mabel Pierce.

Clarence D. Ashley graduated from Yale University in 1878 and further studied in Berlin.  He co-founded the Metropolis Law School and when that facility merged with the Law Department of New York University in 1896, Ashley became the latter's dean.  An author of law books, among his works were Cases on Contracts and The Law of Contracts.

The summer social season saw well-to-do New Yorkers leaving the city to fashionable resorts or country homes.  Other than indispensable servants--like the valet and lady's maid--the domestic staff was often dismissed, to be replaced in the fall.  On June 9, 1913, Isabella advertised in The New York Times, "A lady closing her house for the Summer would like to find places for her chambermaid and waitress; they can be seen at present employers, 41 West 87th St., Tuesday and Wednesday, from 10 to 12."

Around January 14, 1916, Ashley suffered "an attack of the grip," as described by The New York Times.  The term most often refers to influenza today.  His condition led to "hemorrhages," said the newspaper.  On January 27, the New-York Tribune reported, "Clarence D. Ashley, dean of the New York University Law School, died suddenly yesterday at his home at 41 West Eighty-seventh Street."  His funeral was held the following afternoon in St. Matthew's Church on West 84th Street.

Mabel Pierce Ashley was still unmarried and living with her mother as late as 1922.  Like her older sister, Edith, she graduated from Bryn Mawr College and was now working as the secretary to the principal of the Finch and Lenox Schools.  (She would later found the Edith Heyward Ashley and Mabel Pierce Ashley Scholarship Fund at Bryn Mawr College.)

On October 27, 1928, The New York Times reported that Isabella Ashley had sold 41 West 87th Street to Martin J. Doody and his wife, the former Nellie O'Connau.  The article said they "intend to remodel and use the house for their own occupancy."  Included in their renovations was the removal of the stoop and lowering the entrance to the former English basement level.

With the stoop removed, the Doodys walked a few steps below grade to enter the house.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Martin J. Doody was born in Ireland on May 29, 1899, and Nellie was born in Listrowel County, Ireland, 1887.  The couple had two daughters, Josephine Marie and Helen.  (Helen was married and lived elsewhere).  Real estate operators, they owned and managed rooming houses and apartments in New York City and the Rockaways.  One of those, in Rockaway Beach, was named for Josephine--the Josephine Villa.

The Advocate, August 23, 1941

The Doody family was at Belle Harbor, Long Island in 1939 when Martin was taken to St. Joseph's Hospital.  He died there on June 21 at the age of 50.

Josephine Marie was married to Naval Reserve Lieutenant Sydney Conrad Schoenberger in St. Patrick's Church on October 18, 1944.  With no surviving men in the family, Isabella gave her daughter away.  The reception and wedding breakfast was held in the Pierre Hotel.  

Nellie Doody remained in the West 87th Street house until December 1949 when she sold it to David Light.  She moved permanently to Belle Harbor and continued managing the real estate business.  She died there on August 26, 1978 at the age of 91.

For half a century, 41 West 87th Street was operated as respectable rented rooms.  Then a renovation completed in 2000 resulted in a duplex in the basement and first floor, and two apartments per floor above.  

A remarkable five-year renovation started in 2015.  Amazingly, the complicated stoop was refabricated, every detail--including the carved bows on the newels--copied from the surviving examples on the row.  Theodore E. Thomson's 1896 interiors were gutted during the process of returning the house to a single-family home.

photographs by the author

The Lost William E. Benjamin Mansion - 2 East 87th Street

To the left of 2 East 87th Street is the John Phipps house, erected simultaneously.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

By the turn of the last century, the relentless northward migration of Manhattan millionaires had reached the 80s.  The blocks along Central Park, once home to Dutch farms and Native American settlements, saw the rise of palatial mansions.  

In 1901, developer William H. Bolton began construction of a massive speculative residence at 2 and 4 East 87th Street.  His architects, Janes & Leo, had designed a Beaux Arts-style structure faced in limestone.  The rusticated two-story midsection was dominated by a double-height arch that included a columned, bowed balcony under a French style railed balcony at the third floor.  The fifth floor took the form of a striking Parisian inspired mansard.  Bolton reserved a 13-foot wide "easement" along the western border of the property.  It allowed Janes & Leo to place the service entrance to the side, along with windows that afforded a third elevation of light and ventilation.  Construction, completed in 1902, cost Bolton $200,000--about $7.6 million in 2025 terms.

Bolton advertised the mansion as being "directly opposite the garden front of one of 5th Ave.'s finest mansions."  (That was the newly built Henry Phipps residence.)  It ad said, "The house is a conspicuous example of the highest type of domestic architecture.  Everything appertaining to the most advanced art of construction has been incorporated."

New-York Daily Tribune, September 7, 1902 (copyright expired)

Finding a buyer for the sumptuous home took time.  Finally, on January 30, 1904, the Record & Guide reported that Bolton had sold it to Lewis Cass Ledyard.  On February 28, The New York Times commented that spending "about $300,000" for the mansion, "did not attach sufficient importance to the event to let it delay a trip out of the city." The purchase price would translate to about $10.9 million today.

Lewis Cass Ledyard, from the collection of the Library of Congress

An attorney, Ledyard was a partner in Carter Ledyard & Milburn and president of the New York City Bar Association.  He married Gertrude Prince on April 11, 1878, and had one son, Lewis, Jr.  She was the daughter of Colonel William E. Prince of the United States Army.

Gertrude Prince Ledyard, from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

On January 17, 1905, less than a year after moving into the mansion, the 54-year-old Gertrude Ledyard died.  The New York Times mentioned, "She was prominent socially in New York, and was one of the leaders of the Newport colony, where the Ledyard house is one of the show places."  Devastated, Lewis Cass Ledyard sold the residence to William Evarts Benjamin.

Born in 1859 the son of millionaire journalist Park Benjamin, William had retired in 1900.  During his career he was a book and print seller and dealer of historic autographs.  His wife, Anne Engle Rogers, was the daughter of Henry Huttleston Rogers, a founder of Standard Oil Company with John D. Rockefeller.  She could boast Mayflower lineage on both sides of her family.  The couple had two children, Beatrice May and Henry Rogers.  Their summer home, Lake House, was in Southampton, Long Island.

Beatrice's debut season started with a dance in the mansion on December 17, 1907.  The New York Times reported, "The cotillion was danced in the Louis XVI ballroom, and was preceded by a dinner for fourteen guests."  The extensive guest list for the dance portion included the cream of high society, including names like Lanier, Fish, Rogers, Roosevelt, Morgan, Mortimer and Dodge.

A 13-foot wide "easement" separated the Benjamin mansion (left) from the massive Speyer residence on the corner.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Beatrice was married to Alexander Dallas Bache Pratt in St. Thomas's Church on November 17, 1909.  The New York Times devoted an entire column to her Empire-style wedding dress.  The groom, who was 26 years old, had entered military service in 1905.  The newlyweds moved into the East 87th Street mansion.

Social functions within the house were now often hosted by Beatrice.  On February 8, 1910, for instance, she gave a dinner party for 20 in honor of Marjorie Gould and her fiancé Anthony J. Drexel, Jr., and Elizabeth Berton and her fiancé Snowden Q. Fahnestock.  The New York Times reported, "Afterward, the young people went to see 'The Jolly Bachelors' at the Broadway Theatre."  And the following month, on March 18, Beatrice hosted a dinner for 14.  "The guests were at one large table decorated with American beauty roses," said The Times.  (Acquiring roses in March required a significant expenditure.)

Alexander D. B. Pratt was deployed during World War I.  On August 4, 1918, The Sun reported that Beatrice had entertained with a dinner "in honor of her mother, Mrs. William Evarts Benjamin" at the Pratt's cottage in Newport.  No one was aware that while her husband was overseas, Beatrice had begun an affair in Newport with twice-married playwright Preston Gibson.  In June 1919, she divorced her husband "on grounds of non-support and desertion."  

Four months later, on October 18, 1919, The Sun reported that Beatrice and Gibson, "ran away in a taxicab to Greenwich, Conn., yesterday and got married."  The article said that William and Anne Benjamin "have publicly objected to the marriage."

And indeed they did.  On December 21, 1919, the Syracuse Herald ran a full-page article titled, "Was Preston Gibson Worth the Price Mrs. Alexander Pratt Paid for Him?."  It reported that Beatrice was "estranged" from her parents, who had begun proceedings to rescind her $2 million inheritance, and the $200,000 trust funds for her two children.  The Benjamins declared her daughter had "married against the wishes and in spite of the protest of all the members of her family."  The procedure sparked several suits and counter-suits between Beatrice and her parents.

While the ugly and very public fighting within the courts and in the newspapers played out, Henry Rogers Benjamin was serving in the U.S. Navy Aviation Corps.  He returned to the states after a deployment in Italy in January 1919 and on January 27 his engagement to Dorothy S. Rennard was announced.  Married that year, Henry brought his bride home to the East 87th Street mansion.

On May 4, 1921, The Evening World reported that Beatrice, "sailed Saturday for Europe with her two children by a former marriage, Cynthia Anne Pratt and Alexander Dallas Bache Pratt 2d, to visit her parents, who have been abroad for some time."  The article said the voyage, "bears out the report that a reconciliation has been effected" between Beatrice and her parents.  The mending of the rift and the trip to Europe quite possibly had everything to do with Beatrice's plans to divorce Preston Gibson.  Their divorce was finalized the following year.

Beatrice Benjamin Pratt Gibson Cartwright would be married again in 1940.  The Evening World, May 4, 1921 (copyright expired)

Beatrice would not remain unmarried for long.  On January 2, 1923, The Sedalia Democrat reported that she "and Captain Charles Aubrey Cartwright of the royal navy were married [in Paris] last Saturday."

Anne Engle Benjamin died on September 8, 1924 at the age of 59.  In addition to trusts of $1 million each to her children and other bequests, she left $14.5 million to William (the figure would equal about $266 million today).

Henry Rogers Benjamin divorced his wife in 1929.  His sister would divorce Charles Aubrey Cartwright in 1939.  Beatrice would marry Frederick Joseph McEvoy in 1940, and Henry would marry Virginia Poole in 1941.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

William Evarts Benjamin died at the age of 81 on February 24, 1940.  In reporting his death, The Corpus Christi Times mentioned that from his collection of rare manuscripts he had donated to the New-York Historical Society "the letters patent signed by King Charles II in 1674 authorizing Edmund Andros to take New York--then New Netherlands--for the British crown;" and "gave the Library of Congress valuable papers of George Washington concerning Mount Vernon."

Henry's daughter, Anne Rogers Benjamin, lived with him in the mansion.  On October 20, 1941, The New York Times reported, "Miss Benjamin will be introduced to society by her father on Dec. 27," and that her aunt, Mrs. Frederick J. McEvoy would host a dinner dance for her at the Waldorf-Astoria on the 29th.

The days of debutante cotillions and glittering dinner parties were coming to an end at the time.  Within a few years, the mansion was demolished to be replaced with the massive George F. Pelham apartment building, 1056 Fifth Avenue, completed in 1951.

image via compass.com

The 1854 James A. Banta Dry Goods Store - 324 Bleecker Street

 

In 1854, Martin Bunn and Nicholas D. Herder lined the western blockfront of Bleecker Street between Grove and Christopher Streets with four-story house-and-store structures.  Faced in red brick above the storefronts, they were designed in a utilitarian take on the Italianate style.

The commercial space in 310 Bleecker (renumbered 324 in 1859), became James A. Banta's dry goods store.  He and his family lived just around the corner at 99 Christopher Street.  Banta was hiring in the fall of 1856, advertising on September 22 for "A young man, as salesman, in a retail dry goods store.  Also, a boy wanted.  Apply to J. A. Banta, 310 Bleecker st."  (The boy would be responsible for delivering packages to customers, cleaning up, and other sundry tasks.)  Three years later, Banta was looking to fill the sales clerk position again.  "Wanted--A young man, about 18 years of age, acquainted with the retail dry goods business."

James Banta closed his Bleecker Street shop that year.  On April 8, 1859, an advertisement in The New York Times offered, "To Let--The houses and stores Nos. 322 and 324 Bleecker-st."  The ad was answered by Gilbert F. Henshaw.

Henshaw was a butter merchant at the Fulton Market.  He moved his family into the upper portion of the building and leased the store to Thompson O'Neill's "fancy goods" store.  (Drygoods stores dealt mostly in fabrics, linens, and related goods.  Fancy goods stores included a range of items like ribbons, buttons, ceramic figurines and such.)

Born in Brooklyn in 1831, Henshaw married Cornelia Whiting two years prior to leasing 324 Bleecker Street.  They had a two-year-old daughter, Annie Mabel, and an infant, Florian E., when they moved in.  (Two other children, Gilbert Irving and Daisey B. would arrived in 1863 and 1866 respectively.)  Living with the family was William F. Whiting, a clerk and presumably Cornelia's brother.

The Henshaws' pedigree dog wandered off in 1866, no doubt causing great consternation to the Henshaw children.  An advertisement in the New York Herald read, "Dog Lost--On Wednesday, Dec. 5, an Italian Greyhound; answers to the name of Prince.  Any person returning him to 324 Bleecker street will be handsomely rewarded."  (Whether Prince was ever found is unknown.)

Foll0wing Thompson O'Neill, Sarah Stuart briefly ran the fancy goods store until 1862.  On April 21, Gilbert F. Henshaw advertised, "To Let--Fancy Store 324 Bleecker Street, inquire from 7 to 10 o'clock P.M. to G. F. Henshaw, 324 Bleecker street."  It continued to be a fancy goods store, now operated by David Hartfield.

O. H. and Mary Archer purchased 316 through 324 Bleecker Street around 1865, and around 1871 the Henshaws moved to Brooklyn.  The upper floors of 324 Bleecker Street became a rooming or boarding house.  Living here that year were Edwin J. Forbes, a machinist; carpenter George Wheeler; and a Mrs. Parmly.

Mrs. Parmly, it seems, was a self-sufficient woman.  On February 16, 1872, she left "for five minutes," according to the New York Evening Express, locking her door behind her.  The article said, "Returning she found her door broken open, and $300 in jewelry and money taken."  Two men were rushing out of the building.  They were described by The Evening Telegram as, "Two well dressed young men, named Harry Brown and George Hervey."  

Mrs. Parmly flew into action.  The New York Evening Express said, "She herself arrested Brown, but an accomplice named Hervey got away, but was subsequently arrested."  Mrs. Parmly was in the courtroom to identify the burglars, who were sentenced to five years each in the State Prison.

In February 1873, the Archers replaced the old storefront of No. 324 at a cost of $800, or about $21,600 in 2025 terms.  The renovated space became home to Emanuel Stern's haberdashery.  He operated a second store far to the east at 10 Bleecker Street.

Stern offered custom-made shirts and suits, and men's fashion accessories.  In November 1875, he advertised, "Cutters--Wanted, an experienced custom shirt cutter competent to draft his own patterns," and the following year sought, "A boy, from 15 to 17, in gents' furnishing store.  Must have been in the business.  E. Stern. 324 Bleecker st."

As Gilbert Henshaw had done, James Edward Gritman leased the building in 1879.  He moved his family into the upper floors and opened his stationery store downstairs.  Born in 1849, Gritman married Henrietta Louisa Capra on December 20, 1871.  The couple had three children, James, Jr., Jennie Capron, and Minnie, six, four, and two years old respectively.  (Another son, Clarence, had died in infancy in 1877.)

James Gritman was highly involved in the Masons and for years held the position of secretary of Gramercy Lodge No. 537.

The Gritman family did not need all three floors and so they took in roomers.  Living with the family in 1880 were John C. Stewart, a "telegrapher;" policeman James A. Vandyke; and Albert Weaver, a printer.

James, Jr. died at the age of seven years and three months on April 3, 1880.  His funeral was held in the parlor two days later.  At the time, Henrietta was pregnant.   The baby, Henriette, was born on January 9, 1881.  Tragically, she died at the age of one on August 2, 1882.

Benjamin Mallane rented a room from the Gritmans in 1895.  The 18-year-old was looking for a job, advertising in The World on February 15, "Collector--American, 18, as collector, clerk or in an office; best of reference & bond."  When he had not found a position a month later, Mallane widened his net.  "American, 18, wants position at anything; best references & bond; experienced in office duties."

As early as 1896, James H. McMullen, a letter carrier, and his aged mother occupied a room here.  Marilla McMullen was the widow of George McMullen.  She died here at the age of 90 on April 21, 1896.  The funeral was held in the Gritmans' parlor on the following evening.

In 1898, James E. Gritman diversified, adding gramophones to his stationery business.  Around 1904, he closed his store after operating in the space for nearly 30 years.  

In September 1909, Mary Archer hired architect William S. Boyd to update the building with new walls, skylights and windows.  It might have been during this renovation that the modern arcade style storefront was installed, its handsome mosaic tiled entrance mimicking a rug.  

Among the Archer's upstairs tenants at the time was the James Noonan family.  Both he and his wife, Kate, were born in Ireland.  They had six children, Mamie, James, John, Martha, Alice and Flora.

Either Mamie or Martha lost her job as a dressmaker in 1916.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on April 9 read, "Dressmaker--Young lady work out by day, dressmaking; late of L. P. Hollander, 5th av; eight years' reference.  M. Noonan, 324 Bleecker.  Phone 3184-Spring."

The population in the Noonan apartment dropped by one after John Noonan was married on March 6, 1917 to Mary Fallon.  The remaining family was still here when Kate died on September 12, 1920.  Her funeral in their rooms was followed by a mass at St. Joseph's Church.

The 1938 renovation included casement windows and a coat of white paint.  via the NYC Dept of Records and Information Services.

The Archer estate sold 316 to 324 Bleecker Street in 1927, prompting the Record & Guide to remark on April 30, "The parcels were owned by the seller more than 60 years."

Attilio Fiore owned and lived in 324 Bleecker Street by the late 1930s.  In 1938, he renovated it into apartments, one per floor above the store.  It was most likely during this remodeling that the lintels were shaved off and casement windows installed.

The shop saw a variety of tenants over the coming decades.  Art 'n' Frames was here in the 1960s, followed by a hair salon in the mid-1970s, and Richard Utillia's vintage clothing store by 1979.  Most recently the space was home to a smoke shop.

A recent renovation restored the molded lintels over the upper floor windows, and double-hung windows were installed.  The arcade storefront and its wonderful mosaic flooring survives.

photographs by the author