The Nicholas Keane House - 96 Madison Street

 

In the 1820s and 1830s, prim Federal-style houses rose along the Madison Street block between Catherine and Market Streets.  As early as 1830, Lewis Higgins and his family occupied 80 Madison Street, a two-and-a-half story, brick-faced home (renumbered 96 in 1852).  Two dormers pierced its peaked roof.  Higgins was a wholesale grocer at the nearby Catherine Market.

By the mid-1840s, the Jonathan Gardiner Fleet family occupied the house.  Born in 1801, Gardiner and his wife, the former Lydia Seaman, had four children, Harriette Rebecca, Sarah Cornelia, Maria, and Jennie.  Fleet operated two livery stables.

The family received a scare at around 7:30 on the night of March 30, 1847 when a fire started.  The Evening Post reported, "It was caused by a bed in the second story accidentally taking fire."  How the bed caught fire was not explained.

The Fleet family left Madison Street in the spring of 1851.  As was common, they sold everything in the house and started over in their new home.  An auction listing on March 28 reflected the Fleets' comfortable lifestyle.  It included, "tapestry carpets, rosewood furniture covered in maroon velvet, sofa, tete a tete," marble top center table, a piano forte, and oil paintings.

Grasset Launy, a coppersmith, occupied the house through 1858, followed by Thomas Rice, who ran a saloon and hotel at 44 Catherine Street.  

James W. Hefflin took possession of 96 Madison Street from Rice in 1865.  Although he listed his profession as running a boardinghouse, the size of the residence limited his number of boarders.  That year William Hutchinson, a tailor, and his family lived here, and in 1867 Cornelius Haggerty, an oysterman at the Catherine Market, boarded here.  Hannah Stapleton, a widow, and her son, Tobias, who was a printer, lived here the following year.

Hefflin was not necessarily an upstanding citizen.  On December 3, 1868, the New York Evening Express reported that he had been arrested.  Describing him as "said to have been an ex-policeman, but at present the owner of a sailors' boarding house at No. 96 Madison street," the article said he had broken into the saloon at 41 Market Street at 1:00 that morning and stole $3,000 in cash and "a lot of segars of the value of $7.50."  (The cash would translate to about $33,600 in 2025.)

The article said:

Hefferon [sic] was found in the building up stairs with a jimmy, skeleton key, and a lot of segars beside him, and a receipt from the New York Gas Company, which the bartender testified was in the desk from which the money was taken, was picked up when the prisoner was found.

Hefflin told the judge, "it was a woman that brought him there."

His imprisonment ended Hefflin's career of running the boardinghouse at 96 Madison Street and it became home to the Nicholas Keane family.  Keane had operated a chandler shop at 171 South Street since 1849.  

Also living here with the Keanes was their adult son, Nicholas Jr., and his wife, Bridget.  The younger Nicholas worked in his father's business and, interestingly, spelled his surname Kane, perhaps to differentiate him from his father.  The Kanes had two children, David and Mary.

On December 4, 1879, The Sun reported, "Nicholas Keane, an old resident of the Seventh Ward, died in his home, 96 Madison street, yesterday in his 55th year.  The article mentioned that he "amassed a fortune" in his business and "was a conspicuous member of St. James's Roman Catholic Church."

The Kanes soon leased the house, and it was again operated as a boarding or rooming house.  In the spring of 1884, a sailor, Thomas Jackson, was brought here with serious injuries.  Jackson had been aboard the William A. Lincoln heading to Manila on February 25 when he was "cruelly beaten," according to a crewmate, with an iron bar by the ship's captain.  When the ship returned to New York, another sailor, Abraham Weeden, had Captain M. J. Daly arrested.  The New York Times reported on May 20, "Jackson is now laid up at No. 96 Madison-street on account of the injuries received."

In September 1886, David J. Kane, Nicholas's son, hired architect Bernard McGurk, to enlarge the house by raising the attic to a full floor and adding a one-story extension in the rear.  McGurk added stylish pressed metal lintels to the openings and a triangular pediment above the entrance.  An Italianate-style bracketed cornice finished the renovations.

As early as 1941, the brick was painted.  Before the 1886 renovations, the house matched the Federal-style house down the block.  via the NYC Dept. of Records & Information Services.

As early as the mid-1890s, Mary Kane Carroll, David's sister and daughter of Nicholas, occupied the house.  She and her husband, Michael Carroll, were living here when a fire caused $1,200 worth of damages.

On October 19, 1910, The New York Times reported that Mary, "daughter of the late Nicholas Kane and Bridget Kane, and widow of Michael Carroll," had died the previous day.  The following year, in August, David J. Kane hired architect Jacob Fisher to reconfigure the interior floorplan as a "tenement," according to Fisher's filing.

On April 3, 1918, The Evening World reported, "Shichisaburo Hosaki, twenty-five, a Japanese ship steward, was killed by one of his roommates in a sailors' boarding-house at No. 96 Madison Street at 2 A.M. to-day."  The article explained that four Japanese shared a room on the top floor.  One of them came home drunk and Hosaki scolded him.  "He drew a clasp knife and slashed Hosaki three times on the neck, killing him almost instantly," said the article.  His slayer fled before his roommates could stop him.

The following month, on May 13, Hitash Mogi, another steamer steward, was arrested in Boston.  Mogi admitted being in the room at the time of the slaying but insisted he, "had nothing to do with it."  He insisted the crime "was the result of a family vendetta" and named Roy Shida as the murderer.

A twist in the case occurred four weeks later when Lota K. Kamali was arrested in Lima, Ohio.  He was appearing with a troop of Hawaiian singers and guitar players at the Orpheum theater there.  The Lima Times-Democrat reported on June 18 that he was arrested for disorderly conduct and "suspicion of being the man wanted for the murder of Shichisaburo Hosaki, a Japanese knifed at New York on April 3d."

As it turned out, the case was never solved.  Both Mogi and Kamali were released without being charged for the murder.

Painted shades of blue today, the house sits within a streetscape of late 19th century tenement buildings.  The sole surviving relic of the block's earliest years, it looks much as it did in 1886 when David Kane remodeled it.

photograph by the author

The 1828 39 Charlton Street

 

The change in brick color testifies to the 1871 raising of the attic to a full floor.

Among the streets laid out by John Jacob Astor I around 1817 on the grounds of Richmond Hill (the former estate of Aaron Burr), was Charlton Street.  It was named in honor of Dr. John Charlton, the president of the New York Medical Society.  Astor began filling the block between Varick Street and Sixth Avenue with brick-faced homes.

In the summer of 1828, an arsonist set fire to the two unfinished houses at 37 and 39 Charlton Street, nearly destroying them.  (He would be back a few months later, on October 12, torching two more homes--at 32 and 35 Charlton Street.)  Carpenter-builders John Gridley and Samuel Martin partnered to purchase and rebuild 37 and 39 Charlton Street.  Their completed houses were noticeably grander than the middle-class homes that lined the block.

Twenty-five-feet wide and two-and-a-half-stories tall with two dormers, their marble stoops rose to elegant entranceways.  Here fluted marble columns and half columns on either side of the door flanked delicately leaded sidelights.  Intricately carved foliate bands outlined the leaded transom, which sat within a frame of panels and rosettes.

Martin and Gridley held title to 37 and 39 Charlton Street respectively.  Gridley appears to have initially rented his house.  Sharing it in 1827 and 1828 were Tunis Banta, a cartman who was currently erecting several homes in Greenwich Village; Samuel Martin, a carpenter; and teacher of elocution, William E. Shadgett.

For much of the 1830s, 39 Charlton Street was home to merchant Reuben Vose.  Born on February 19, 1796 in Milton, Massachusetts, he married Sarah F. Hunting in March 1825.  The couple had two children, Sarah Louise and John Gorham.  In 1860, Vose would write The Life and Speeches of Abraham Lincoln and Hannibal Hamlin.

By then, the Vose family had been gone from Charlton Street for two decades.  In 1840, 39 Charlton became home to drygoods merchant Justus Earle, who lived here until moving to Waverly Place in 1851.  William Williams and his wife next occupied the house.  Williams appears to have continually reinvented himself.  In 1853 he listed his profession as "manager," in 1856 as "accountant," and in 1860 as "barber."  

In May 1854, the couple advertised, "Rooms to Let--The whole second floor, four rooms, to let to one or two single gentlemen or to a gentleman and his wife only.  Apply at 39 Charlton street."

The house continued to see a relatively rapid succession of occupants.  The family of fancygoods dealer James W. C. Anderson lived here in the early to mid-1860s, followed by Henry Miller, who operated a shoe business on Union Place.  The Miller family moved in around 1867 and would remain at least through 1873.  In 1871, Miller raised the attic to a full third floor.  Rather than installing a modern cornice in the currently popular Italianate style, Miller's builder either reused the original dentiled cornice and fascia board, or refashioned a similar one.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

In 1871, the year that Miller enlarged the house, Patrick and Catharine Meehan McKenna moved into 42 King Street, a block to the north.  Their one-year-old son Peter Joseph died there on November 20, 1871.  Although they retained possession of the King Street house, in 1876 they moved into 39 Charlton Street, renting it from John W. Ferdon.  Their landlord lived in Piermont, New York.

Patrick McKenna listed his profession as "liquors," which could refer to a liquor store or a saloon.  In his case, he had two locations, at 109 and 172 Varick Street.  

Living with the couple was Catharine's widowed mother, Mary Meehan.  The 65-year-old died on December 2, 1877 "after a painful illness," according to the New York Herald.  Her funeral was held in the house, followed by a solemn requiem mass at the Church of St. Anthony of Padua on December 5.

Having sold the King Street house around 1879, the McKennas purchased 39 Charlton Street from John W. Ferdon in February 1884 for $4,500 (about $144,000 in 2025).  They occupied it into the early years of the 20th century.

By 1917, Mary Helen Hall Smith occupied 39 Charlton Street.  She was the widow of John Jewell Smith, who died in 1901.  Living with her was at least one of her six children, Jewell Kellogg Smith, who was 27 years old in 1917.  His engagement to Margaret Shearer was announced on October 20 that year.  The elevated social-economic status of both families was evidenced in The Sun's mentioning, "The bride to be was graduated from Bryn Mawr and Mr. Smith from Princeton in the class of 1914."

William S. Coffin purchased 14 "old dwellings," as described by the New-York Tribune, in August 1919, including 39 Charlton Street.  A month later he sold it to Anne T. Safford.  She paid $10,000 for the property, or about $176,000 today.

Safford retained ownership until 1927, when she sold it to Dr. Anthony Garbarino.  He hired architect Frank B. Zontanaro to convert the top floor to an apartment in 1937.

Three decades after the physician moved in, on April 23, 1959, The Villager reported that Dr. Garbarino had sold the house to "Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert Kiggins and Miss Barbara Comfort," noting, "The purchasers bought the property for all cash for their own use."  The article mentioned that Garbarino "has owned it since 1927." 

The buyers initiated a renovation, completed in 1960.  It resulted in a duplex apartment in the basement and parlor floor, and another in the upper two stories.

In 1917 the attic of 37 Charlton Street was raised, making it and 39 Charlton Street once again identical.  The Landmarks Preservation Commission has called them, "Perhaps the two most important houses [in the district] in age, richness of style, scale and perfection of preservation."

photographs by the author

The Heavily Remodeled Walcutt & Leeds Building - 53 East 11th Street

 

On November 11, 1896, The Electrical Engineer reported that Walcutt & Leeds had moved into the building at 53 East 11th Street.  There, said the article, they "manufacture phonograph and graphophone records and supplies.  They manufacture also the blank cylinders and sell also the latest types of the Edison phonographs."  The firm had been formed that same month by Edward F. Leeds, Loring L. Leeds and Cleveland Walcutt.  

Loring L. Leeds, according to the New-York Tribune, was "for many years identified with Thomas A. Edison."  Edison had invented the phonograph nearly two decades earlier and Walcutt & Leeds (along with others) worked to improve the phonograph cylinders.  

The Phonoscope, May 1897 (copyright expired)

The building at 53 East 11th Street had been erected about 15 years earlier by T. F. Sturges.  At the time it was two stories tall, but was remodeled and enlarged in 1894.  Now three stories tall, the stepped gable of the factory-and-shop structure reflected the currently popular Flemish Revival style.  Faced in brick, the upper floors were separated by undressed stone courses.  A large terra cotta rondel above the third floor and a half-round terra cotta sunburst atop the gable added interest.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The firm produced recordings of popular singers and musicians, including Irish-born George J. Gaskin, known as the "silver-voiced Irish tenor."  The company's largest customer for master (or blank) cylinders was the National Phonograph Company, established by Edison.  Walcutt & Leeds, however, was consistently in court because it "flaunted phonograph-related patents," according to the Discography of American Historical Recordings.

Directly behind 53 East 11th Street was Ward School No. 47.  The Sun said that the Walcutt & Leeds building was "only a few feet from the rear windows of the school, and it is easy to see from one building to another."  The newspaper said on June 16, 1897, "For some time the firm has been conducting experiments in a room on the third floor of the factory."  The previous day, Cleveland Walcutt and Dr. J. W. Metcalf had been "experimenting to produce a more perfect phonograph record cylinder than the one now in general use."  According to the article, "They had a great nine-foot cauldron of boiling wax, and into this they poured various chemicals."

Suddenly there was an immense explosion that "literally ripped the room to pieces," said the article.  "Windows were broken, sashes torn out, and the walls and ceilings brought down with a crash."  Cleveland and Metcalf were splashed with boiling wax and seriously burned.  

The blast blew out windows of Ward School 47.  The janitor, who was helping girls decorate a classroom for that day's graduation ceremony, was thrown across the room.  The school was evacuated and, as reported by The Sun, "When the fire in the factory had been put out the children were marched back into the school and the school duties resumed as though nothing had happened."

In 1903 the firm was manufacturing disc recordings.  Lippincott's Magazine Advertiser, December 1903 (copyright expired)

In 1897, a judge found Cleveland Walcutt and Edward Leeds guilty of contempt for ignoring a patent infringement injunction.  Two years later, Walcutt left the company and in June 1899, Edward Leeds partnered with Reade Catlin to reorganize as the Leeds & Catlin Company.

The firm soon began experimenting with the emerging disc, rather than cylinder, market.  It produced its final brown-wax cylinder catalog in 1903 and turned solely to disc (or record) production.

In 1899, Leeds & Catlin leased space to R. Arnold, a manufacturing and retail furrier, who had been operating on University Place.  Working in the shop at the turn of the century was Helene Miller, "a tailoress," as described by The New York Times.  She responded to an advertisement by Charles Blumenthal looking for "people with small incomes desirous of building homes."  Helene sent him several $15 installments towards her building fund, and then Blumenthal disappeared.

Helene lived in North Bergen, New Jersey and took the ferry back and forth each day.  In the fall of 1900, she spotted Blumenthal on the ferryboat.  The feisty woman, it turned out, was not to be trifled with. "I took hold of his collar and gave him a good shaking, demanding my money back," she later told a reporter.  He begged her not to create a scene and promised to return her money "within a day or two."  When the money had not been returned by December 11, Helene began her own investigation to find his home address. 

On January 7, 1901, she told a reporter from The New York Times, "I found out to-night where he lived, and immediately notified the police.  I would have given him a good beating but the detective made me walk on ahead."  Blumenthal was arrested for swindling.

A horrific accident occurred here on the morning of February 27, 1901.  Santa Cancialosa and her husband entered the elevator on an upper floor.  The New York Times reported that when it reached the lobby, "the elevator man threw open the gate, stepped out and started to walk across the hall."  According to court documents later, "When he had gone about ten or twelve feet, he heard a scream behind him, and, turning, saw the elevator moving upwards."

The 26-year-old Santa Cancialosa had been the first to exit the elevator.  The New York Times reported, "before she was entirely out of the elevator the car suddenly darted upward, catching her body between it and the landing above."  The elevator operator attempted to stop the car, but "Mrs. Cancialosa was wedged in so tight that she was killed almost instantly."

On March 15, 1909, The Talking Machine World reported on the "new twin record catalog of Leeds & Catlin Co." and added, "The company are making arrangements to move into a new suite of offices in one of the prominent buildings of the city, but retaining their laboratory at 53 East Eleventh street."  That move would not happen.  Three months later, on June 22, The New York Times reported that Leeds & Catlin Company had filed for bankruptcy.  An auction of the firm's physical assets was held in the building on August 10.  Along with the expected office furniture to be sold, according to The Waste Trade Journal, were more unusual items like an organ, a piano and stool, microscopes and technical equipment like a "3-cylinder recording machine," vacuum pumps, Edison reproducers and such.

No. 53 East 11th Street now filled with a variety of tenants.  Waterman & Company, pen manufacturer, occupied space through 1915.  In 1916 Joseph Reichbach leased the ground floor space.  Around the same time Barshop & Klein, general contractors, operated from an upper floor office.  In January 1920, Morallissee & Fondrisi, apparently an apparel firm, took the front portion of the second floor.

In 1932, the ground floor was converted to a restaurant and the factory space above became apartments, one per floor.  

Ben's Luncheonette occupied the ground floor in 1941.  via the NYC Dept. of Records & Information Services. 

Thelma Burne lived in one of the apartments in 1936.  On August 8 that year, The New York Age reported that she "entertained an intimate group of friends at a weekend party ending after Sunday dinner."

In 1948, Robert Frank took an apartment here.  Born in Zürich in 1924, he had emigrated to the United States a year earlier and landed a job as a fashion photographer with Harper's Bazaar.  Frank would develop as a notable photographer and filmmaker.  His 1958 book The Americans was described by critic Sean O'Hagan as, "perhaps the most influential photograph book of the 20th century."  Robert Frank's residency would be short-lived.  He left to travel throughout South American and Europe in 1949.

On May 16, 1963, The New York Times reported that Oscar and Rachel Zurer had purchased "the three-story studio and store building" at 53 East 11th Street.  The article said, "Mr. Zurer, who is identified with several off-Broadway plays, plans to use most of the house for his residence and business."  The couple renovated the ground floor to the Renata Theatre.  Part of the second floor became the office and the other portion was now part of a duplex apartment for the Zurers.  The 157-seat Renata Theatre opened on October 8, 1964 with Shout From the Rooftop by Jess Gregg.  

In the meantime, Grove Press had been established at 18 Grove Street in 1951.  In 1962 the firm moved to University Place (where it was first charged with selling an obscene work).  Then, on August 31, 1967, The New York Times reported that the publishing firm's president, Barney Rosset, had announced that, "he had purchased the Renata Theater, 53 East 11th Street, from Oscar Zurer for $170,000 and leased it to the Grove press for 10 years."  The article said the theater portion "will be used for the presentation of plays and films and its name will be changed to Evergreen."  Evergreen was the title of Grove Press's bi-monthly review, its series of books, and the theater programs that it printed.

The residential space above the theater was converted to offices. Evergreen Theater opened on October 16, 1967 with The Beard, a two-character play by Michael McClure.  Less than three months later, on January 10, 1968, Barney Rosset announced that going forward the Evergreen Theater would present "both plays and films." 

Grove Press had been scrutinized by the Central Intelligence Agency for years.  In August 1975, Barney Rosset and an editor, Fred Jordan, filed a suit against the C.I.A. on behalf of Grove Press.  It charged the agency "with infiltrating, wiretapping and bombing the offices of Grove Press, Inc."  (The bombing had taken place at the University Place location.)  The 21-page complain sought $10 million in damages.  Among the specific accusations were:

The agency wiretapped the telephones of Grove Press and Mr. Rosset, collected the wiretapped information in an intelligence file and divulged the contents to others

Impersonation and disguise were used to "infiltrate" Grove Press, employees placed in the company adversely influenced its managerial, editorial and employment policies

A "mail watch" was conducted against the plaintiffs that included opening and copying their correspondence.

Around 1982, Bahá’í Center took over the building.  According to its website, it strives "to give expression to the oneness of humanity, a core principle of their faith, by seeking to eliminate racial prejudice, advance the equality of women and men, and build a vibrant spiritual community reflecting the human family in all its diversity." The theater portion is used for the Children's Theater Company, which stages children's plays.

In 1992, the lobby and the exterior were remodeled. The ground floor was given a veneer of pink granite, and the upper floors received white stone panels. Unfortunately, the renovations eradicated the little building's 1897 charm.

many thanks to reader Mark Satlof for suggesting this post

photographs by the author

The Leonard Paulson, Jr. House - 307 West 74th Street

 

In 1836, the New York Orphan Asylum purchased the two blocks from 73rd to 75th Street, and Riverside Drive to West End Avenue as the site of an orphanage, opened in 1840.  Thirty-five years later, Frederick Law Olmsted began transforming Riverside Drive and Riverside Park.  As mansions rose along the wide thoroughfare and naturalistic park, the institution's property value soared.  In 1893, the New York Orphan Asylum announced that its northern block was for sale. 

Eight of the plots were purchased by wealthy businessmen.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide described them as, "a syndicate of eight gentlemen who will build homes for themselves."  To ensure architectural harmony, they agreed on a single architect--C. P. H. Gilbert, whose reputation for designing high-end residences was well established.

Among the "syndicate" was Leonard Paulson, Jr.  Born in 1846, the son of a merchant tailor, he was a partner in Buckingham & Paulson, dealers in cotton yarn.  The firm was established in 1877.  A member of an old New York family, he was a member of the Sons of the Revolution, the Founders and Patriots, and the Society of Colonial Wars.

The Paulsons' 24-foot-wide mansion sat at 307 West 74th Street where a short, asymmetrical stoop fronted the limestone basement.  The first floor projected slightly away from the yellow brick upper floors, creating a stone-balustraded balcony.  A round, two-story bay dominated the mid-section, the wide stone frieze of which was decorated with elaborate carvings.  A Florentine inspired arcade dignified the fourth floor.

Orphans assembly on the grounds of the New York Orphan Asylum.  The newly-build Paulson house can be seen in the background, just to the left of the Asylum building.  image by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The Paulsons had three daughters, Blanch Paege, Florence Patty, and Marjorie.  The house was the venue for the first of the sisters' weddings.  On November 14, 1899, the New-York Tribune reported that invitations had been sent out "for the wedding of Miss Blanche Paege Paulson and Dr. John Joseph Nutt, on Saturday afternoon, December 2."  The article said the ceremony would take place in the Paulson residence, "and will be followed by a small reception to the relatives and intimate friends of the couple."

The marriage of Florence Patty Paulson (who had been Blanche's maid of honor) on June 4, 1901 captured society's attention.  On May 22, the New York Press reported, "Romance surrounds the approaching marriage of a wealthy New York girl and a young Italian nobleman, whose engagement was announced formally last night at a dinner given to a few intimate friends."  Florence had captured the heart of Marquis Virgilio Barsotti.  The New York Press said his "estates near Naples are famous throughout Italy."

Father M. J. Lavalle of St. Patrick's Cathedral officiated the ceremony in the West 74th Street mansion.  The New York World noted, "Baron Golotti was the Marquis's best man, and Mrs. John Joseph Nutt, the sister of the bride, the matron of honor."  Following their honeymoon, the newlyweds sailed to Italy on June 15.  The New York World commented flatly, "The Marquis is rich."

Four months after her sister's high-profile wedding, Marjorie traveled to Lincolnton, South Carolina to visit friends, the Rineharts.  The New York World reported, "There she met [Leonard] Richardson, a well-to-do young farmer, who fell desperately in love with her."

Marjorie became the target of what the newspaper termed, "ardent Southern wooing."  Only weeks after arriving in South Carolina, she wrote home, telling her parents that she had accepted Richardson's proposal of marriage.  They wrote back, "All right, but wait a year; come home first."

Marjorie obeyed, but her love was stronger than her parents' wishes.   She "slipped away" from 307 West 74th Street on Christmas Day and boarded a train to South Carolina where she and Leonard Richardson were married.

A reporter from The New York World visited 307 West 74th Street.  On December 28, the newspaper quoted Leonard Paulson who said, "Oh, it's all right.  He is a fine young fellow and has one of the best farms down South.  I simply didn't want to lose my daughter quite so soon, that's all."

At the time of Marjorie's elopement, the view from the Paulsons' parlor windows was undergoing change.  In 1901, the New York Orphan Asylum sold its remaining property to multi-millionaire Charles M. Schwab.  He demolished the orphanage and began a five-year construction project of a massive, block-engulfing estate with park-like grounds and a monumental French Renaissance style chateau.  

In the meantime, Blanche and her husband were living with her parents.  The couple appeared regularly in the society pages.  On August 23, 1902, for instance, the New York Herald reported, "Dr. and Mrs. John Joseph Nutt, of 307 West Seventy-fourth street, are at Kineo, Moosehead Lake, Me., for the remainder of the season."

On February 4, 1905, the Record & Guide reported that Leonard Paulson had sold 307 West 74th Street."  The New York Times mentioned, "This house was specially constructed for Mr. Paulson and faces the new residence of Charles M. Schwab."

The buyers were John and Mary M. Munro.  A director of the Metropolitan Realty Co., John was one of four children of the massively wealthy publisher George Munro, who died in 1896.  The couple had one daughter, Mary Watson Munro.

The Munros were socially visible.  On December 16, 1909, for instance, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. John Munro of 307 West Seventy-fourth Street entertained yesterday with a luncheon at Sherry's."  The winter social season of 1915-16 saw their names appearing in the society columns more frequently, as it was Mary Watson Munro's debutante year.

It began when The New York Times announced on November 15, 1915, "Mr. and Mrs.  John Munro of 307 West Seventy-fourth Street will give a coming-out reception for their daughter, Miss Mary Watson Munro, on Dec. 4."  Then, on New Year's Eve, the couple hosted a dinner at Sherry's at which "they introduced their daughter, Miss Mary W. Munroe [sic]," as reported by The Sun on January 1.  The article said, 

Their dinner guests, numbering 100, were seated in the suite adjoining the large ballroom, and after dinner there was dancing, interspersed with exhibition dances by professional people.  There were the regulation observances of New Year's eve, with the darkened supper room just before midnight, and afterward dancing was resumed in the grand ballroom.

Mary Watson Munro, The New York Times, February 13, 1916 (copyright expired)

Two years later, on March 23, 1918, the Munros announced Mary's engagement to Joseph Bryan Chaffe, Jr.  The wedding took place in the Central Presbyterian Church on April 23.  With World War I raging in Europe, the wedding had a decided military atmosphere.  The groom's brother, Ensign Blackshear Chaffe of the U.S. Navy was the best man, and among the ushers were Major Frank A. Cook and Lieutenant George Schurman of the U.S. Army.  A reception was held in the West 74th Street house.

John Munro was retired in June 1921 when he was called for jury duty.  But this was no ordinary jury.  Prohibition had gone into effect in January 1920 and Munro was chosen as one of 23 "merchants, manufacturers and brokers" to sit on "the Extraordinary Grand Jury of the Supreme Court" that would hear the cases of "4,000 alleged violations of the Mullan-Gage dry law in this country," according to The Evening World on June 7.

On August 2, 1931, John Munro died in the West 74th Street house.  His funeral was held in the drawing room three days later.

Mary M. Munroe sold 307 West 74th Street in 1939 and it was converted to apartments, two per floor.  The tenants came and went, bringing little attention to the address until 1984 when things drastically changed.

On October 10 that year, police raided the ground floor apartment leased by Sheila Devin.  Four days later, The New York Times began an article saying, "A raid on an Upper West Side town house has shut down a $1 million-a-year prostitution ring that catered to an affluent clientele around the world, according to police, who said yesterday that they were waiting for the head of the ring to turn herself in."  Sgt. Raymond Wood of the Manhattan Public Morals Squad called Devin, "the most professional madam we've ever come across."

Sheila Devin was, in fact, Sydney Biddle Barrows, a descendant of William Biddle, a Quaker shoemaker who arrived in America in 1681.  New York Magazine, on December 10, 1984, explained that she had been educated at the Rumson Country Day school and Stoneleigh-Burnham in Greenfield, Massachusetts.  Sgt. Wood said, "she has a management degree and once received the 'Female Executive of the Year' award from the management firm that employed her."  Her deep-rooted pedigree earned her the nickname, The Mayflower Madam.

Nine months after the raid, on July 19, 1985, Sydney Biddle Barrows pleaded guilty to promoting prostitution.  The New York Times reported, "She was ordered to pay a $5,000 fine."  Barrows told a reporter, "Handling things this way was the only way I could protect the women and my clients."

Things returned to normal for the tenants of 307 West 74th Street.  In 1993, a penthouse level, unseen from the street, was added.  The two fourth-floor apartments were now converted to duplexes.

photographs by the author

The Lost Biltmore Hotel - 335 Madison Avenue

photo by Bryon Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The New York Central and New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroads embarked on a grand real estate project called Terminal City in 1903.  On May 12, 1912, The Sun reported that the Grand Central Terminal "plan of improvement" covered 79 acres--from 42nd Street to 50th Street and from Lexington to Madison Avenues.  Saying it "surpasses the Panama Canal in some respects," the project comprised commercial, apartment and office buildings, including the Biltmore Hotel.  

The commission to design the hotel was given to Allen H. Stem and Charles A. Reed.  Their plans were in work when Reed died in 1911.  According to architectural historian Christopher Gray, "The day after the funeral, [Whitney] Wetmore secretly approached the railroad and got it to void the initial contract, naming Warren & Wetmore sole architects for all future related work."  

The following year, in March, Warren & Wetmore filed plans for the 26-story hotel to cost $4.5 million (about $150 million in 2025 terms).  It would span the block from Madison to Vanderbilt Avenues and 43rd to 44th Streets.  The New York Times remarked on March 31, "Twelve sets of tracks will run under the hotel, giving immediate access from the trains to the hotel without going to the street."  

A "novel feature," reported The Times six months later, was "a number of private apartments...built into the hotel by the tenants themselves from plans and designs prepared by their own architects."  Ranging from 8 to 12 rooms, the dozen apartments would be located on the 18th through 20th floors.  Each would include, "quarters for maids and servants."  The article said that several tenants had already signed leases, paying yearly rentals of $10,000 to $15,000.  (The most expensive would translate to a staggering $41,000 per month today.)  

Among the permanent residents would be Whitney Warren (one of the architects of the building); William Rutherford Mead, partner in McKim, Mead & White; William Washington Cole, owner of W. W. Cole's circus; and William H. Newman, Chairman of the Board of the New York Central.  There was one restriction.  The New York Times reported, "it is not intended to have cooking done in these suites."  The article explained, "Meals for the various families will be prepared in a special culinary department of the hotel and served in a special way in the dining rooms of the several suites."  The article commented, "Some of the apartments will cost a small fortune to build in accordance with the wishes and needs of the tenants."

Construction began on March 1, 1913, the steel construction was completed on August 15, and on December 26, The Sun reported, "This week 1,300 men are working night and day putting on the finishing touches."  By the time of the article, the cost of  the hotel had risen to $10 million, including furnishings.  The craftsman mentioned by The Sun were working furiously because the opening of the Biltmore Hotel was scheduled for New Year's Eve.

The Brickbuilder December 1914 (copyright expired)

The Sun said, "Warren and Wetmore...designed the exterior of the Biltmore so that it might harmonize with the architecture of the station and other buildings of the terminal.  The exterior is of granite, limestone, brick and terra cotta in the Italian Renaissance."  There were three entrances: one on 43rd Street and two on Vanderbilt Avenue.  (The northern entrance on Vanderbilt was for women only, "and leads directly to the rooms provided for their comfort," reported The Sun.)

The hotel had 1,000 bedrooms, nine elevators and six "continuous staircases."  The New York Times listed the up-to-the-minute technology, including the "telautograph, dictograph, telephone, and pneumatic tube systems...which, it is said, are the most complete in existence."  The newspaper described the main dining room as "the chief" of the "elaborate rooms."

The carpet, upholstery, and window draperies are in subdued red and the furniture in dark oak.  The ceiling has classical figures in low relief of gold against a background of white.  The walls are of marble in panel effect.  The room is lighted from three large prismatic glass electroliers.

The lobby's Palm Court (above) and Main Dining Room The Brickbuilder December 1914 (copyright expired)

The grill room, two bars and the men's clubroom were decorated in the Elizabethan style, while the women's clubroom was "treated in the Gregorian style.  "The lobbies and palm room have marble walls with mural decorations in bronze," said the article.  The main ballroom on the 22nd floor was decorated in blue and gold in the Louis XV style.  The New York Times said it would be called The Cascades.  "The reason for its name is a big waterfall which will occupy one end of the room."  A secondary ballroom could accommodate 300 persons.  The furnishings and interior decorating were done by W. & J. Sloane.

Atop the six-story section on Vanderbilt Avenue was the Italian Garden.  The New York Times described it on June 16, 1914 saying it had, "real grass and shrubs, walks, and a fountain in which goldfish play.  A pergola runs for 200 feet along the front, and back of it are a lot of gay-looking French umbrellas, under each of which is a tea table."

photo by Bryon Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The Biltmore Hotel was run with military precision by Gustav Baumann.  On October 15, 1914, The New York Times said, "It was Mr. Baumann's custom each morning to make a thorough inspection of the building from the lowest floor to the roof."  The previous morning, just before 11:00, he had visited the carpenter's shop on the 22nd floor, after which he was to inspect the hotel's waiters in the Italian Garden.  The first waiter to arrive was Frederick Rugen.  He found Baumann's body on one of the paths.  It was surmised that Baumann had leaned out to see if the waiters had assembled and lost his balance.

The Italian Gardens were transformed the following winter into the Biltmore Ice Gardens.  On December 12, 1915, the New-York Tribune reported, "The first open air ice skating rink that has ever been built in a New York hotel will be ready for skaters tomorrow."  The article said that the Italian Gardens had been turned "into an artificial lake...at a cost of approximately $10,000."  Colored lanterns illuminated the rink at night.  At one end of the 50 by 75 foot oval of "real ice" was a glass enclosed tea room.  "This room is kept at an even temperature by steam heat and a large open fire," explained the New-York Tribune.

The Evening World, December 20, 1915 (copyright expired)

When America entered World War I in 1917, the proprietors of the Biltmore Hotel joined the war effort.  The Food Administration initiated a campaign to conserve meat and wheat that could then be exported American Allies in Europe.  The Hotel World reported on November 10, 1917 that the Biltmore had saved "more than a ton of meat on its 'meatless Tuesday' and of five barrels of wheat flour on 'wheatless Wednesday.'"  On the previous Tuesday, said the article, "1,927 pounds of various meats were saved."

The war came even closer to home in 1918.  Madame Despina Davidovitch Storch, a 23-year-old native of Turkey, checked into the hotel.  Described by The Evening World as "beautiful," she had been married to Paul Storch, a French army officer prior to their divorce.  Unknown to her, she had been trailed by the Secret Service for two years.  On March 18, 1918, she and two men and another woman were arrested and turned over to the French Government.  The Evening World reported, "The web of the world-wide German spy system is believed to have been torn in a vital part today."  

The article said Madame Storch had "mingled in European intrigues for at least six years, since she was seventeen."  She and the other three spies had been financed by Count von Bernstorff, the former German Ambassador to the U.S.

The Ballroom was the scene of the Homecoming Dinner for Baseball's World's Tour Players on March 7, 1914.  image via wikimedia.org

Clarence and Regina V. G. Milhiser checked into the Biltmore in the spring of 1919.  On May 20, Clarence died and that evening Regina brought her jewelry to the front desk, asking that it be placed in the hotel safe.  James E. Foye brought out a metal box and Mrs. Millhiser placed three bundles of jewelry into it--"two of them wrapped in paper and the third in chamois," according to The Sun.

When she called for the jewels a month later, "she was surprised to find the chamois bundle was missing and the paper had been torn from another," according to The Sun.  Foye told the hotel manager that the box had not been touched.  On June 26, the New-York Tribune reported that the Biltmore management had offered a $10,000 reward "for the recovery of the Milhiser jewels."  (The items were valued at the equivalent of nearly $6 million today.)

Eventually, James E. Foye was arrested and charged.  A year after the theft, on June 8, 1920, Mrs. Milhiser was a witness in his trial.  She was shown 82 pearls and a diamond clasp.  The New York Herald reported, "She said they were part of a pearl necklace valued at $325,000 which was among the stolen jewels."  

The Bowman Room, seen here in 1956, had a similar, smaller version of the famed Palm Court clock.  from the collection of the Library of Congress.

The ballroom was the scene of at least one controversial event over the decades.  In April 1927, Gerardo Machado y Morales, President of Cuba, stayed here.  Perhaps not coincidentally, the U.S. President, Calvin Coolidge was also in residence.  Machado was the official guest of New York City and Governor Al Smith traveled to town to greet him.  The Biltmore Hotel was decorated with the flags of the United States and Cuba.  Not everyone agreed with the "royal welcome," as reflected by the coverage in The Daily Worker.  Its headline on April 27 read, "Murderer of 200 Island Unionists Guest of Mayor and Financiers."

from the collection of the Columbia University Library

Half a century later, an advertisement in New York Magazine on March 26, 1979 touted, "Great times in New York begin Under The Clock."  That clock was in the lobby, or Palm Court, and was famous as a meeting place.  Newsday journalist Nathan Cobb would later explain, "'Under the clock at the Biltmore' was the place where hundreds of young women who always seemed to have names like Bitsy and Bunny began dates or assignations with equally preppie young men who always seemed to be called Skip or Chip."

But at the time of that advertisement, the end of the Biltmore Hotel was on the near horizon.  In 1981 owners Paul and Seymour Milstein announced their plan "to strip the historic Madison Avenue hotel to its steel skeleton and rebuild it as the Eastern headquarters of the Bank of America," as reported by The New York Times on September 20.  Demolition started on August 13, 1981 "catching preservationists by surprise," said the article.  The Milsteins agreed to preserve the 19th-floor ballroom and the lobby as part of the new building.  In return, the LPC agreed not to designate the exterior a landmark.

However, on August 26, 1982, Norman Pfeiffer, a partner in the architectural firm of Hardy Holzman Pfieiffer Associates, told The New York Times, "we discovered that further demolition had taken place" and there was nothing left of the ballroom or lobby to restore.  His firm told the New York Landmarks Conservancy that they would no longer be a part of the project.

The sole relic to survive was the clock.  On March 24, 2013, The New York Times columnist Christopher Gray remarked, "The Biltmore clock was placed in the lobby of No. 335, but has the pickled aspect common to architectural elements divorced from context."  He suggested that the structure that replaced the Biltmore Hotel--the "brutal red granite 335 Madison Avenue, designed by the firm Environetics"--might be promoted by preservationists a hundred years hence, adding, however, that would be, "hard to imagine."

many thanks to reader Doug Wheeler for suggesting this post.