The Screndson House--No. 40 Gramercy Park North

In 1831 James Duane’s Gramercy Farm on the east side of Manhattan included both fields and swampy marshland.  With the city inching ever northward, Samuel B. Ruggles recognized the potential of the area and purchased land from Duane to develop into a fashionable enclave ringing a central, private park.

A year later he had drained the marsh and enclosed what would be Gramercy Square (later Gramercy Park) with a heavy cast iron fence in 1833.  In 1844 he began the landscaping of the park and one by one grand residences began rising along the 60 plots that surrounded it.

The exclusive residential tone of Gramercy Square spilled down the side streets.  Just steps to the east, construction of No. 144 East 21^st Street was begun in 1852 and completed the following year.  The brownstone-faced Anglo-Italianate house was on the cutting edge of residential fashion.  A shallow stoop led to the arched entrance which was mirrored by the shape of the parlor window. 

An elegant stone balcony at the second floor stretched the width of the building and was accessed through tall French windows.  One floor above, miniature versions appeared as balconettes.  Above it all, an elaborate fascia board decorated the wooden cornice, upheld by three elaborate Italianate brackets.

The well-to-do Screndson family seem to have been its first occupants.  Working for Mrs. Screndson seems to have been a challenge.  On February 14, 1853 two notices, possibly placed by the same servant, appeared in The New York Herald.  The “respectable young woman” was seeking a new job as a chambermaid and laundress, or as a “first rate cook” who “has no objection to assist in washing and ironing, if required.”

The following year, in September her replacement, “a young girl” was looking for a new job as well.  Things apparently did not go well for the next woman, either.  On February 23, 1855 she advertised “Wanted—By a young woman, a situation, as a first rate cook, washer and ironer, or as chambermaid and seamstress.”

Son Erasmus Screndson was a “piano-forte” maker.  The 25-year old would find himself caught up in the deadly Draft Riots of 1863.

Early on the morning of Monday, July 13, after tempers had simmered for a day over the seemingly rigged Civil War draft lottery, rioting broke at.   Initially the mobs attacked military and governmental buildings which symbolized the unfairness of the draft.  But by noon the rabble turned their focus to innocent blacks, private homes, and businesses.

Five days of mayhem and bloodshed resulted in at least 120 dead and approximately 2,000 injured.  The Colored Orphan Asylum was burned to the ground and the children barely escaped with their lives.  Among those injured by what Governor Horatio Seymour called a “ruffianly mob” was Erasmus Screndson.  He had almost made it home from work when he was shot in the foot at the corner of 21^st Street and Third Avenue.  His injuries, happily, were not life-threatening.

Life for the domestic staff had not improved.  Situation wanted notices routinely appeared in the newspapers; and in October 1865 the Screndson cook was looking for a new job.  She described herself as “cook in a private family; understands her business thoroughly; best city reference from last place where she has lived nearly three years.”

The surviving carvings around the first floor openings, with delicate foliate touches, suggest the details that were shaved away on the upper floors.

By the late 1870s, when William H. Arnoux moved into the house, its address had changed to the more exclusive-sounding No. 40 Gramercy Park North.  A member of the law firm Arnoux, Rich & Woodford, he was appointed a judge of the Superior Court by Governor Alonzo B. Cornell in January 1, 1882.  It was an elevated position which brought with it a $15,000 salary—equal to about $360,000 in 2016.

The New York Times reported “Lawyers admit that this appointment is one in every way worth to be made, as Mr. Arnoux is in excellent standing at the Bar, and possessed of the ability and attainments fitting him, in every respect, for the position.”  There was one lawyer, however, who disagreed. 

Arnoux would fill the seat of Judge Gilbert M. Speir, whose retirement at the age of 70 was required by law.  But Richard O’Gorman filed suit, saying that in the past November’s election, he had been voted into the position.

The drawn-out court battle went so far as O’Gorman’s suggesting that Speir was not really 70 years old after all.  The former judge was required to testify in court, producing his family Bible as evidence.  After months of wrangling, during which O’Gorman called Arnoux a “usurper,” the jury could come to no decision.  Nine months after the case had begun, Judge Donohue dismissed the case refusing to take sides.  The Times explained “It was entirely useless, therefore, to try the case as it would occupy about a month in the trial, and the courts now have no time to spare.”

Judge Arnoux, whom a newspaper said was “a student of science, literature and art,” sold No. 40 in March 1885 for $40,000 (just over $1 million in today's dollars).  Despite the handsome sale price and the still-upscale reputation of Gramercy Park; within a decade the house, like so many others in the neighborhood, was being operated as a high-end boarding house.

In 1895 there were at least three boarders at No. 40: William B. McLachlin, Fayne Moore, and opera singer Madame Rosa Linde.

A contralto, Madame Linde was well-known in opera circles.  On August 39, 1895 The Times reported on the “second of the series of Mme. Linde’s musicales” given “in her parlors, 40 Gramercy Park.”  The newspaper noted “The rooms were decorated with ferns, foliage, and Autumn flowers.”

Although artists like Senor Albertini sang and the Italian pianist Clementino de Machhi “rendered a nocturne and ballade by Chopin;” it was Rosa Linde who commanding the evening’s attention.  The Times noted “The contralto voice of Mme. Linde was heard to excellent advantage in ‘Amour Viens Aider,’ from Saint-Saens ‘Samson and Delilah,’ and, as an encore, she gave Murio-Celli’s ‘Bells of Love,’ which was composed expressly for her.”

William McLachlin became one of the main figures in a law suit that same year when he fell victim to a fraudulent employment agency.   Temporarily out of work, he applied to the United Commercial Company hoping to find a position in a real estate or insurance firm.  The president, George B. Townsend, promised to find him a position at $12 a week.  But first McLachlin had to pay a $100 security deposit.

When no offers came after two weeks, McLachlin started checking around.  He found 50 other men who had been swindled in the same manner.  The officers of the United Commercial Exchanged were arrested in February 1895.  McLachlin, it would appear, lost his $100.

The press attention received by Fayne Strahan was rather scandalous.  In August, 1896 she met Martin Mahon at a musicale at the New Amsterdam Hotel.  She returned to the hotel the following day after she realized she had lost a diamond pin.  There she ran into the married Mahon again.

The following afternoon Mahon appeared at her rooms at No. 40 Gramercy Park, presumably to let Fayne know that he had ordered the hotel detective to search for the pin.  The seemingly innocent visit developed into a romance.

Later Fayne testified “Mahon called on me very frequently after that.  He invited me to go out driving, which I did.  About September, 1896, I moved to Thirty-second Street, and then he called on me nearly every day.”

The adulterous affair would probably never had come to public notice had not Fayne married W. A. E. Moore on April 9, 1897.  Moore turned out to be physically and verbally abusive, prompting Fayne to reignite her affair with Mahon.  But on the night of November 4, 1898 Moore crashed into the room at the Grenoble Hotel and found the couple together.

“When Mr. Moore came in he assaulted Mahon and he assaulted me,” related Fayne.  “Mahon went on his knees and said: ‘Do not kill me, for the sake of my wife and children; if you kill me you kill them.’  When he turned his pistol on me I said, ‘Spare me and I will go away.’  I left the place then.  I did not return until Nov. 6, when I went to get my clothes, and was arrested.”

Fayne Strahan Moore was arrested on charges filed by her Mahon “who accuses her of having aided in robbing him of $170 and a diamond pin,” reported The New York Times.  The sordid and tangled twists of the illicit love story were gobbled up by newspaper readers throughout the trial.

Other residents here before the turn of the century included Richard Cox and his wife.  Cox had owned a men’s furnishing store at Broadway and Liberty Street for more than 30 years.  He was an intimate friend of Henry Ward Beecher. 

Mrs. John A. Norris lived here in 1899.  On November 19 that year she attended the Metropolitan Opera.  During the performance a man tapped her on the shoulder, telling her that Admiral Schley was only a few seats back.  When she turned to look, the man cut the gold chain around her neck and fled with her gold and jeweled opera glasses.  She reported their value at $250.

Mrs. Eliza Omeara also lived here.  In 1900 Dr. W. M. Richards opened a sanitarium for alcoholics directly across the street at No. 145 East 21^st Street.    The New York Times remarked “Gramercy Park is so exclusive that it never occurred to the people who lived there that any one would even conceive of such a plan.”  But after ambulances came and went, men were seen “zigzagging in indirect course of progress,” and broken glass appeared in the curbs, the neighbors investigated.  The newspaper said “and they discovered that right in their midst was a home for inebriates.”

Eliza Omeara joined in the group concern.  She told a reporter on November 7, 1900 “I’m very glad to hear that the doctor has decided to discontinue his sanitarium, or whatever it was, here.  It was awful.  I have made no special complaints, though of course everybody in the neighborhood has been exercised over it.”

Five months later No. 40 Gramercy Park was threatened.  Developer Charles Buek purchased the house, along with No. 39 and No. 148 East 21^st Street in April 1901.  He announced “A twelve-story bachelor hotel will be erected on the site.”

But for some reason, Buek’s grand project never came to pass.  And by 1903 the boarding house had become less exclusive.  While the operator still offered “excellent table” and the use of the private park; an advertisement noted “transients accommodated.”

In 1908 dentist John Gulick, his wife and 19-year old son Earl lived at No. 40 Gramercy Park.  Earl had made a name for himself as a boy soprano, and had toured the country with President William McKinley.  Earl even sang at the assassinated President’s funeral.  But by now his voice and his fate had changed.

In May 1908 Earl met with three friends and they went to a café on 41^st Street near Seventh Avenue.  When they left, one of group, Alexander H. Dunlap, and Earl got “into a friendly scuffle,” according to Dunlap.  But the scuffle ended with him lying on the sidewalk and missing $60.  Dunlap’s story was, perhaps a bit white-washed.  The Times noted that “With three others, Gulick and Dunlap had been together in many saloons.”

Earl Gulick learned that Dunlap had filed a complaint against him for stealing the cash.  He turned himself into the Sixth Avenue Detective Bureau on May 21 and he was locked up in the Tombs where he spent what he called “a horrible night.”  The following morning he appeared before Magistrate Cornell.  The Times said “The Magistrate gave the one-time ‘angel-faced’ boy singer some good advice against the allurements of Broadway, and the young man said he appreciated the advise.”

The newspaper added “He embraced his father, Dr. John Gulick…and then hurried to his home, at 40 Gramercy Park, where his mother lay prostrated with grief over the arrest.”

Perhaps to save his home, another tenant, Leon Jamaine, purchased No. 40 from the Charles Buek Construction Co. in December 1909.  He spend $130,000 on the aging building.  Four years later he hired architect Paul Meyer to do $100 in renovations to the stonework.  It may have been at this time that the Anglo-Italianate detailing around the openings was shaved flat.

In 1914 the tenant list included Dr. Max Heinmann.  Born in Berlin in 1897 he was an attending physician at the German Dispensary and was connected with the Opthalmic German Hospital. 

The wife of architect Marshall Francis Oliver and their children were also here at the time.  She began a divorce suit against him on January 27, 1914, alleging “that her husband was guilty of misconduct with women at an east side hotel.”  A newspaper noted “Oliver put in no defense.”

Also boarding here that year was 93-year old Emily Berry Egan.  The Times noted “She was a descendant of John Berry, Governor of New York, in the time of Charles II, and was born in the Berry mansion in West Broadway.” 

Foxhall Daingerfield surprised his relatives and friends on October 25, 1914 by announcing he was “going on the stage.”   A graduate of Washington and Lee University, his father was Algernon Daingerfield, the Secretary of The Jockey Club.  Daingerfield had been a successful magazine writer and playwright.  Now he was hired by the Shuberts for a small character role in The Battle Cry, a play about Kentucky life.  Daingerfield played Milt McBriar, “a Kentucky mountaineer.”

A small notice appeared in The Sun on May 5, 1918 announcing the death of Grace M. Sheldon in No. 40.  Grace had been a teacher in the New York public schools for many years.   Her husband, Theodore, survived her.  The tiny obituary would have sparked little notice had it not been for the events of two days later.

At around 10:00 on the night of May 7, 45-year old Theodore Sheldon shot and killed himself in Central Park.  He was identified by cards and letters in his pockets, including his discharge papers from the United States Army.  He had served in the Spanish-American War as a private until 1898.

The New-York Tribune said his relatives said that since Grace’s death he had been depressed, “and is believed to have taken his life in a fit of despondency.”

Among the notable residents during the Depression years was Dr. George Schwartz.  In 1930 the esteemed surgeon operated on famous theatrical producer Daniel Frohman after he was hit by a taxicab; on March 23, 1931 he performed a gallstone operation on Aaron Zimbalist, father of violinist Efrem Zimbalist; and the following year, in December, he operated on Supreme Court Justice William T. Collins for “osteomyelitis of the leg.”

Somehow No. 40 Gramercy Park escaped demolition as modern apartment buildings replaced the old houses along the block.  In 1961 the new owner announced intentions to modernize the building.  “The remodeling plans include a self-service elevator.”

The replacement balcony ironwork does not attempt to mimic the original; but is a rather attractive solution.

In 1970 a renovation resulted in two roomy duplexes above a first floor doctor’s office.  Then in 2001 the structure was returned to a single-family home.  Today, squashed between 20^th century apartment buildings, the unlikely survivor dons an inexplicable coat of ruddy brown paint, applied in 2016.

photographs by the author

The Harris C. Fahnestock Mansion - No. 15 E 66th Street

On May 8, 1915 the Record & Guide noted that "despite the fact that the recent financial depression has affected almost everyone in some degree, and has been felt particularly by many of our wealthy families, the construction of private residences continues on a large scale.  Many handsome and costly dwellings are now being erected."  Among the projected mansions the article mentioned was that of broker Harris C. Fahnestock to replace the vintage four-story brownstones at Nos. 13 and 15 East 66th Street which he had recently purchased.  "This residence will be five stories in height and will probably cost more than $100,000," the article said.

That the financial depression was "felt particularly" by the wealthy was relative.  Fahnestock had paid the Costello estate $167,000 for the property, bringing the total cost of his project to about $6.5 million in 2016 dollars.

He had commissioned the firm of Hoppin & Koen to design the mansion and The Guide noted that Frank V. Hoppin would be in charge.   Two months earlier the periodical had described the plans.  "The facade, which has been designed in the style of the American Colonial, will be built of brick, and trimmings of limestone.  A reception-room, large stair hall and dining-room will be located on the first floor, and on the second floor the space will be devoted to a large drawing-room, library and study."   The third and fourth floors were reserved for the family's bedrooms.  The two upper floors were devoted to servants quarters.

The 41-foot wide mansion was completed in 1918.  If Hoppin & Koen had indeed intended to produce a brick-and-stone neo-Georgian structure, those plans had been drastically rethought.  Instead the Fahnestock home was a stately neo-Palladian palace faced in limestone.  Within the deeply-rusticated base two arched openings--the main and the service entrances--flanked a matching window.  Above, two-story Corinthian pilasters rose to a distinctive cornice.  From sidewalk level the mansion appeared to be four stories tall; the two-story mansard being disguised by a stone balustrade.

The top floors hid behind the elegant stone balustrade.  photo by Wurts Brothers from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Fahnestock was a member of the brokerage firm of Fahnestock & Co. at No. 1 Wall Street, founded by his father, Harris C. Fahnestock, Sr.  He had married Mabel Metcalf in 1896 and the couple had two daughters and a son.  His personal fortune had been greatly increased in 1914 upon the death of his father, the year before he purchased the 66th Street property.  The estate, divided among him and his five siblings, was estimated at more than $17.75 million.

Mabel was the daughter of James Betts Metcalf and Annie Tiffany Metcalf.  The New York Times later mentioned that her "ancestors were distinguished in the Colonial history of New England," and noted she was a member of the exclusive Colony club and was "prominent in New York society and also in the colony at Lenox, Massachusetts."  (The Fahnestocks maintained a lavish, 450-acre summer estate called Eastover, there.)

Visitors were immediately struck by the sumptuous entrance hall.  photos by Gottscho-Schleisner, Inc. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Millionaires were routinely concerned about preserving their property values, the light and air around their homes, and the exclusivity of the neighborhood.   And so buying up surrounding property was not uncommon.  Around the time that No. 15 East 66th Street was completed, Fahnestock "purchased for protective purposes 14 East Sixty-seventh street," according to The Sun on August 22, 1918.  The house was directly behind his and with the country embroiled in World War I, he turned it over to the Red Cross.

The dining room and ballroom.  photos by Gottscho-Schleisner, Inc. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Mabel involved herself in the charitable activities expected of a socialite.  In the early 1920's she routinely hosted the sewing class which "takes care of the needs of the new York Nursery and Child's Hospital," as well as the sewing class "conducted by the clothing committee of St. Luke's Hospital Social Service."  In March 1923 the annual spring sale and tea dance to benefit St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children was held in the Fahnestock mansion.

But then in 1925, entertainments took a much more personal turn.  The announcement of the engagement of Harris Jr. to Alice Muriel Post on November 29 made headlines.  Alice was the granddaughter of famous architect George B. Post.

Mabel's boudoir was French; the library decidedly English.  photos by Gottscho-Schleisner, Inc. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

That same month the Fahnestocks hosted an elaborate reception and dance at the Ritz-Carlton to introduce daughter Ruth to society.   Then, amidst the flurry of debutante entertainments, on the day following Christmas, Mabel hosted a "reception with dancing" for Alice Post.  

In reporting on the engagement The New York Times had mentioned Eastover, saying it was where "Mr. Fahnestock Sr. keeps up his interest in the four-in-hand over the roads of the Berkshire Hills section."    A four-in-hand was a carriage or coach pulled by a team of four well-trained horses.  The Times was not the only newspaper which occasionally made note of Fahnestock's unusual hobby.

In the Roaring '20s, when millionaires rode about in shiny limousines and touring cars, Harris Fahnestock enjoyed taking out his extensive collection of vintage horse-drawn vehicles, not only in Lenox, but in Central Park.   Journalists routinely noted that his were the last of the quaint vehicles to be seen on the roads.  Years later The Times remembered "As late as 1925 he drove through Central Park in one of his colorful coaches-and-four with high-stepping chestnut horses, a silk-hatted driver and a pair of uniformed footmen, reminiscent of a scene in the late Seventies."

The social excitement in the 66th Street mansion continued as Ruth's engagement to A. Coster Schermerhorn was announced on May 4, 1926.  The couple was married in St. Thomas Church on November 30 and the bride's father took the opportunity to bring out one of his handsome carriages.

"Quite a bit of the old time was suggested at the wedding, the bride driving to and from the church in the family brougham behind a span of perfectly matched sorrel horses," reported The Times.  There was some romantic nostalgia connected with the affair, as well.  "The coachman, furthermore, assisted in the same capacity at the marriage of the bride's parents."

The social significance of the event was not only evidenced in the list of ushers--including, for instance, George Temple Bowdoin, Pierpont Morgan Hamilton, Goodhue Livingston, Jr., and John T. Lawrence--but in the guest list at the reception in the Fahnestock ballroom.  Among the prominent society names were Schermerhorn, Vanderbilt, Van Rensselaer, Blair, de Rham, du Pont, Cushing, Pyne, Iselin and Stokes.

On May 27, 1930 Mabel died in the mansion at the age of 60 following a prolonged illness.   Her estate ("of considerably more than $1,000,000," according to The Times), went mostly to Harris and the children.  An exception was the $1,000 bequest to Alice Loosley, "for her devoted care of Faith Fahnestock during a long illness."  The nurse's inheritance would be equal to more than $14,000 today; no doubt especially appreciated during the difficult Depression years.

Still, unmarried, Faith remained in the house with her father.  Seven years later, on March 30, 1937, she and her brother attended the quiet wedding of their father to Mrs. Georgette Gerard-Varet Hyde.  The bride had been divorced from her husband, Fletcher Sprague Hyde a few years earlier.  The marriage took place in the Fifth Avenue home of Harris's brother, Ernest Fahnestock.  The New York Times glossed over the fact that Ruth was not present, simply saying "He has another daughter, Mrs. A. Coster Schermerhorn."

Her absence was, most likely, explained when her father and step-mother announced on November 29 that year "the marriage in Reno yesterday of Mr. Fahnestock's daughter, Mrs. Ruth Fahnestock Schermerhorn, to Marie Alfred Fouquereaux De Marigny of Marutius."  Ruth had obtained her Reno divorce the day before the wedding.

Unlike the fashionable first wedding and sister, Faith's marriage on May 16, 1938 went nearly unnoticed.  With only her siblings to witness the ceremony, it took place in the marriage chapel of the Municipal Building and was performed by a deputy city clerk.  The Times noted "After the ceremony there was a small informal reception at the home of the bride's father and stepmother."

Just one of the exquisite Georgian mantelpieces in the Fahnestock mansion.  photo by Gottscho-Schleisner, Inc. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In the spring of 1939 Harris Fahnestock donated his beloved collection of vehicles including 16 carriages predating 1900 to the New York Historical Society.  Later that same year, on October 10, while on a visit to Boston, he died in the Copley-Plaza Hotel.

Although his will gave Georgette a life interest in the 66th Street mansion, the family sold it in 1941 to archaeologist and art collector Hagop K. Kevorkia.  In December The New York Times reported he had commissioned architect James F. Casale to convert the mansion "into a nine-unit apartment."

Perhaps its most celebrated tenant was detective novel and screenwriter Dashiell Hammett, who moved in in September 1945.  He remained here until about 1947 when he relocated to a house owned by Lillian Hellman at No. 63 East 82nd Street.

By 1960 the mansion had become the Consulate General of the Philippines and Mission to the United Nations.   Known as Philippine Townhouse, it was converted by Imelda Marcos, according to The Filipino Star News, "to her personal use and decorated with valuable works of art, furniture and antiques."  The Times was a bit more diplomatic, saying the "mansion was used by Ferdinand E. Marcos and his wife for receptions."

In February 1986, following the fall of the Marcos regime, the new Government conducted an inventory of the house.  On February 28 The New York Times said "There were giant Ming-style vases, Persian carpets, a 1763 harpsichord, gold bathroom fixtures, mother-of-pearl geese, laminated orchids and a trove of other treasures in the Manhattan mansion."

A tour reflected the lavish lifestyle the dictator and his wife enjoyed.  "There was a music room with two grand pianos and a Baker Harris harpsichord.  The library contained books said to be original editions of Balzac and Dickens as well as a 1662 volume of the royal Arms of Louis XIV."

Not everything enjoyed by the couple was as classy.  The ballroom had been transformed into an "elaborate mirrored disco with revolving lights" and there was "a vast collection of records by singers such as David Bowie and Madonna and saucy cushions with sayings such as 'I love champagne, caviar and cash.''

More troubling, however, were the items not in the house.

"But other works of art and valuables were conspicuously missing.  There were large empty spaces on the walls, hooks and scratches and plaques of works by Picasso, van Gogh and Brueghel the Younger, but the paintings have not been found.  There are also many empty jewelry cases and empty boxes bearing the names of Cartier and Van Cleef & Arpels."

The Filipino Star News reported on two other pieces apparently stolen, Claude Monet's 1899 Japanese Footbridge Over the Water-Lily Pond at Giverny, and his 1881 L'Eglise et La Seine a Vetheuil.  And the final inventory reflected that masterpieces by Rubens, Gauguin and Goya had been spirited out as well.  Government officials hired investigators to "search for the $100 million worth of jewelry and other items."

Later that year, in August, a two-day auction of 772 lots was held by Sunrise Galleries.  A spokesman hoped that not only valuable antiques and artwork would bring high prices, but household items as well.  "I've met at least 100 people who would like to own a pair of Imelda Marcos sheets," he said.

As for the 6,000 pairs of her shoes, "there was some confusion over whether any would be offered," said The Times.

The Philippine Government continued to doggedly search for its lost property.  As late as June 1998 it sued Christie's when the auction house received Picasso's 1954 Head of a Woman on consignment.  That same year it moved its Consulate to No. 556 Fifth Avenue.

The Fahnestock mansion was subsequently converted to two three-floor residences.  Despite its often colorful history, it retains its stately and serene 1918 countenance.

photographs by the author

James Giles' No. 78 Reade Street

In 1859 the once residential block of Reade Street between Broadway and Church Street was quickly giving way to commerce.  That year George Bradshaw leased the properties at Nos. 74 through 78 Reade Street from Trinity Church with intentions of hastening the process.

The old houses had never been high-end.  In the 1830s and ‘40s John Taylor, a shoemaker, lived here.  But the year before Bradshaw leased the property it had fallen into disrepute.  On March 19, 1858 The New York Times reported “Mary Graham and Louisa Smith, who keep a noted panel crib at No. 78 Reade-street, were arrested, yesterday, for robbing one Michael Fee of his gold watch, and committed.” (A “panel crib” was a brothel with secret, sliding doors by which rooms could be entered and customers robbed while they were otherwise engaged.)

Bradshaw set architect James H. Giles to work designing a modern loft and store structures to replace the old, low buildings.  Completed in 1860 the five-story Italianate buildings were identical, producing a pleasing architectural flow.  (That same year John Martin, Jr. hired Giles to design the abutting, corner building at No. 80-82, which would visually complete the group.)

Bradshaw had also leased a plot on Church Street, No. 177, from St. George’s Episcopal Church.  He used it to make No. 78 Reade an L-shaped structure, larger than his other two, with a similar but less elaborate façade and side entrance on Church Street.   

Like its neighbors, No. 78 Reade Street boasted a handsome cast iron storefront, forged by the Architectural Iron Works and most likely chosen from its catalog.  Fluted columns with ornate Corinthian capitals supported the broad entablature which would announce the store’s name.  Above were four stories of red brick, trimmed in contrasting stone.  The arched openings within carved enframements sat on bracketed sills.  A robust cast iron cornice sat above the round-arched upper fifth floor windows.

In 1864 the entire block had been redeveloped.  No. 78 is second from left, with what appears to be a large sign on the roof.  Stephenson & Co. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Among the first tenants were the dry goods concern Streeter & Potter; M. Heminway & Sons, manufacturers of sewing silk; and S. J. Dennis, “fancy goods.”   Strawgoods merchants Hubbard, Fay & Co. joined them in the 1860s.

On June 17, 1863 Captain O. O. Potter offered a testimonial for his physician; directing readers of The New York Times to No. 78 Reade Street for confirmation.  “Dr. Lighthill has succeeded in restoring to perfect hearing my right ear, which has been deaf for some time—caused by a cold.  As I am obliged to leave for New-Orleans in a few days, those who may wish to make further inquiries may call on my brother, Mr. H. C. Potter, No. 78 Reade-st., firm of Streeter, Fallon & Potter, who will be happy to give any information desired.”

By 1865 business directories showed that William Fielding & Bro., importers of hosiery and gloves, had moved in; and S. J. Dennis was acting as agent for the United Worsted Co., a braid manufacturer, in addition to its own merchandise.

In 1871 Heminway & Sons won first prize at the American Institute’s exhibition for “the best sewing silk and twist.”  The firm would remain in the building for about two more decades; yet the arrival of Benedict & Burnham, dealers in brass and German silver, and Steele & Johnson, button makers, in the 1870s signaled a change in tenants.

The 1880s saw No. 78 Reade Street filling with book and shoe makers.  In December 1887 P. Cox Shoe Mfg. Co. was looking for additional help.  An ad in The Sun sought “First-class cutters on ladies’, misses’, children’s, boys’ and youths’ shoes; good wages and steady employment.”

Cox was traveling during the first months of 1888 when money went missing in the office.  The cashier, Andrew J. Kelly was arrested and jailed at Police Headquarters.  A friend of Kelly’s played down the incident to reporters saying “the amount involved was not large,” and that when a $128 discrepancy was found, “a Mr. McMahon, who assumed authority in the absence of Mr. Cox, had him arrested, but that on Mr. Cox’s return matters would be righted”

Another footwear firm in the building at the time was John Long & Son, “boot and shoe fitters,” and later the Metropolitan Shoe Company would find its home here.

One merchant in the building that year, C. B. Kennedy, found that talking politics in a bar was rarely a good idea.  On Saturday afternoon, September 2, 1888, he entered Daniel Malchow’s saloon at No. 58 Varick Street with a friend. Thomas S. Wells.  The two settled into a conversation about the upcoming Presidential election.

“Here’s to the election of Cleveland,” toasted Kennedy, tossing back his drink.

Another patron, John Brennan, took umbrage at the remark and said so.  Malchow was bartending and pointed out to Brennan that no one had been talking to him, and he ordered him out of the saloon.  Brennan left—but only momentarily.

The Sun reported the following day “Brennan picked up a beer keg outside, and returning threw it at Malchow, who was behind the bar.  Malchow had Brennan arrested, and Brennan gave $100 bail for good behavior.”   John Brennan was no doubt pleased when his candidate, Benjamin Harrison, lost the popular vote but nevertheless gained the Presidency two months later.

The 1890s saw publishing firms moving into the Reade Street building, as well.  By 1892 Kittredge Company, publishers of Business magazine, was here, as was D. T. Mallett, publisher of the Hardware Dealers’ Magazine.

The well-known pencil manufacturer, A. W. Faber & Co. was in the building by the turn of the century.  If the embezzlement of $128 by an employee of P. Cox Shoe Mfg. in 1888 caused the firm concern; then the discovery of around $30,000 stolen by Faber’s “confidential bookkeeper” in 1901 was staggering.

William Hopeppner was 37-years old and had been employed by Faber for seven years.  He had a wife and two children, and lived well beyond his means.  He earned $2,500 a year; but his apartment at No. 200 West 111^th Street cost $1,500.  He managed to live well by changing the amounts on his pay checks—carefully altering $347 to $847—and then manipulating the books to hide the discrepancies.

On June 18 he failed to report to work and two days later, when his cancelled paycheck was returned to the office, manager W. F. G. Geisse noticed the altered amount and notified police.  When detectives arrived at the Hoeppner apartment, “they found Mrs. Hoeppner and her children making preparations to move.  She told them that he had sailed for Europe on the Lahn,” reported The New York Times.

The police staked out the apartment.  A few days later two vans drove up and Mrs. Hoeppner supervised the loading of her furniture.  Apparently aware that she was being watched, she did not leave the city immediately.  Instead she went with the children to No. 423 West 17^th Street for two days; then took an apartment at No. 17 Abingdon Place for two months.

On August 19 Mrs. Hoeppner and the children climbed into a carriage and headed to the North German Lloyd Steamship Company’s pier in Hoboken.  The long trip was more subterfuge in case anyone was following.  And they were.

After standing around a while, in the pretense of waiting for a passenger, she hailed another carriage which took the family to the Lamport and Holt Line pier in Brooklyn.  They boarded the steamship Coleridge which was headed for Rio de Janeiro.   Mrs. Hoeppner most likely felt she could now relax; having slipped away from the grasp of United States law enforcement.

She had forgotten about the telegraph.  Brazilian police tracked her movements from the time she landed, to her boarding the steamer Bresil on September 10 and her landing in Buenos Aires.  “A few days later the local police located Mr. Hoeppner at the house of Antonio Navarra, a mica merchant of that place, and placed him under arrest,” reported The New York Times on September 28, 1901.

On October 5 Detectives MCafferty and Price set off to bring the embezzler back to New York for trial.  The amount he had stolen would amount to about $865,000 by today’s standards.

Diamond Rubber was here in 1906; but moved to "Automobile Row" on Broadway the next year.  The Sun, October 7, 1906 (copyright expired)

At the time the Sonora Chine Company was making two-movement chime clocks at No. 5 Cedar Street.  In 1908 the Seth Thomas Company bought the patent rights to the mechanism; forcing the owners to move in another direction.  Founder George Brightson reincorporated the firm as the Sonora Phonograph Company in February 1913 and that same month leased space at No. 78 Reade Street.  The firm would remain in the building for years, becoming a major phonograph producer.

Sonora Phonograph produced a vast array of models here. (copyright expired)

The year that Sonora moved in Lewis Smith, a wholesale druggist operating here, was involved in a horrific incident in the Fort Hamilton area of Brooklyn.  On September 27, 1913 Donato Salsa, an Italian immigrant, had spent most of the afternoon collecting driftwood along the harbor shore.   He was pushing his top heavy wheelbarrow home in the middle of the road.

At the same time Lewis Smith was heading home to his home in the Flatbush area.  As he approached the man from the rear he honked his horn so he would move out of the way.  Tragically, Donato Salsa was deaf.

Smith continued forward, honking his horn; but Salsa was unaware of the approaching automobile.   The Times reported “When almost on top of the man, Smith turned his car sharply to one side, to avoid running him down, but just then Salsa swerved his wheelbarrow in the same direction and the auto ran over him.  He was dead when surgeons summoned from the army post got to him.”

No. 78 Reade Street continued to house a number of footwear firms.  In 1918 C. E. Wethey Shoe Company rented space; and in 1914 M. B. Martine, Inc., was here, joined soon by Firestone Rubber Boot & Shoe Co.    M. B. Martine was on the second floor and produced women’s beaded slippers and shoe trims, such as buckles and bows.  On August 19, 1920 it advertised for “home work beading slippers; price doubled and bonus to quick workers; two dollars deposit required; beginners taught.”  The company also needed an “experienced examiner, teacher and sample maker.”  The latter, it noted, were “inside positions.”

 

Shoe and Leather Facts magazine, August, 1914 (copyright expired)

The American Gas Machine Co. was advertising that year, as well.  It needed a “boy to assist in shipping room; good pay, easy hours, steady job.”

At mid-century importing firms Charles Khouri, Inc., and Paul Spitz & Co. were here.  Both were victims of burglary in July 1950.   But after a police chase and gun battle on July 14, 30-year old Paul Carbonaro and 28-year old Vito Esposito were arrested.  The burglars had made off with loot totaling $171 from Spitz.  Charles Khouri, Inc. was less fortunate—the amount of bonds stolen from its office amounting to $5,000.

In 1992 the upper floors were converted to a non-profit residence for the elderly.   Today the cast iron columns survive in front of a modernized storefront; while the upper floors are virtually unchanged.

photographs by the author