Friday, April 24, 2020

The 1927 Rumson Apartment House - 421-423 West 24th Street




On July 8, 1910 Minnie Vincent sold the five "old buildings" at Nos. 418 to 426 West 25th Street and the two abutting structures at Nos. 421 and 423 West 24th Street.  The buyer, Erastus E. Haff hired architect Paul C. Hunter to erect a brick stable on the site of No. 421 West 24th Street .  The remainder of the sprawling plot was used as a "pipe yard."

A decade later, on December 17, 1920, Haff sold the building, now used as a garage run by F. N. DuBois & Company, and the lot next door to Frank W. Blauvelt.  The transaction was a bit murky, considering that Blauvelt and Haff were partners with Frederick N. Du Bois in F. N. DuBois & Company.

The rather gritty personality of the property would come to an end following its acquisition by the Rumson Realty Corp. a few years later.  In 1926 construction began on an apartment building, The Rumson, which completed the following year.  Its thirty-five apartments of either two or three rooms were intended for middle-class residents.

The charming structure joined the trend of picturesque neo-Tudor buildings sweeping the country at the time.  Its facing of rough brown brick was interrupted by panels of stucco and a three-story central upper section was decorated with storybook half-timbering that continued into a pointed gable.  The design appears to have come from the drafting tables of the Rumson Realty Corp.'s in-house architect.

The Rumson was no doubt the most architecturally charismatic structure in the neighborhood until 1930 when the Tuscan-inspired London Terrace--the largest apartment building in the world--rose directly across the street.   


The original entrance doors were no doubt wooden and notably more charming than their replacements.
The competition may have prompted a string of rapid turnovers in ownership of The Rumson.  In 1932 it was purchased by the 421 West Twenty-fourth Street, Inc., "a holding company for some of the members of the Moore estate," according to The New York Sun.  It sold the building on December 26, 1937 to Irving G. Freedman who flipped it two days later to Samuel Schack.  A partner in the law firm of Schack & Shack, this was his first venture into real estate.

Within months he sold the property to Elinor Kugel.  She immediately announced that "It will be known hereafter as Elinor Court."  

New residents in 1942 were paying the equivalent of $640 per month for a three-room apartment.  One of them was under surveillance by private detectives hired by a Syosset bartender, that year.  While Frederick Dernhardt worked in a tavern near his Nassau County home, his wife, Bonnie, was a waitress at the Palm Springs Bar & Grill on Ninth Avenue at 21st Street.  Suspicious, Dernhardt hired the detectives who followed her to the Elinor Court after her shift "and found her occupying an apartment with a man," according to the Nassau Daily Review Star.  By the time Dernhardt received his divorce on October 19, 1945, his former wife was "now said to live at 423 West 24th street," according to the newspaper.




Easily overlooked as the London Terrace steals the show on the block, the former Rumson Apartments is little changed other than replacement windows and entrance doors; no less architecturally quaint today than it was in 1927.

photographs by the author

Thursday, April 23, 2020

Meats, Radios and Dance - 228 West Broadway




In the 1850's respected citizen Walter J. Oughton lived in 24-foot wide house at No. 118 West Broadway.  But by the end of the 1860's the quiet residential tone of the neighborhood would be mostly gone as commercial loft buildings began to rise. 

Developer Myron W. Dow  purchased the building at No. 118 West Broadway (renumbered 228 in 1897) from Thomas Hagan in January 1892; and simultaneously the property around the corner at No. 8 North More Street from Heilner & Wolf.  His one-year mortgage on the combined properties was $48,000; a considerable $1.37 million in today's money.

Dow hired the architectural firm of Maynard & Wistairr to design a six-story, bluntly L-shaped loft and store building on the site.  Construction began in February and proceeded quickly.  Six months later, on August 13, when Dow sold the property to John Heyzer the Record & Guide commented that the building "is now being finished."  

The architects had created carbon copy Renaissance Revival facades.  A cast iron storefront supported five floors of red brick trimmed in terra cotta and stone.  Cast iron framing of the upper floor openings allowed for expanses of glass.  Especially eye-catching were the arched windows of the third and sixth floors with foliate decorations cast into the sprandrels.  The modillioned cornice was flanked by beefy brackets.



The building sat within a district occupied by produce and wholesale grocery merchants.  Thomas & Davis, "provisions," operated from the fifth floor here and in 1916 the Puritan Food Company took the store and basement levels.  The major occupant of No. 228 West Broadway at the time was meat plant of Oxo Limited, Inc.  That firm renewed its lease in 1920, but change in the tenant list would soon arrive.

Meats and produce firms were gone from the building before the onset of the Great Depression.  In 1924, when the Austen Cologne Company took space, the Manufacturers' and Inventor's Electric Co. had been in the building for some time.

Founded in 1897, the Manufacturers' and Inventor's Electric Co. offered help to electrical designers.  An ad in The New York Times on December 6, 1925 offered consultation on "experimental work," light manufacturing and instruments and development of inventions.  The Radio Dealer commented that the firm "operates a general shop for the production of radio equipment" and that "they have a most complete plant" for the manufacturing of scientific and precision instrument parts.  The firm would remain at the address at least through 1929.

Among the tenants at mid-century was Bookkeeping Machines, Inc.  The firm shipped office machines by various manufacturers to customers around the world. 


Buffalo Courier-Express, March 2, 1955
Change was again on the horizon for the Tribeca neighborhood at the time.  In 1971 artist Michael Economos listed his address here when he participated in the Ten Downtown exhibition.  The annual show had been launched in 1968 by a coalition of ten artists.  He was typical of the young artists who were moving into loft spaces despite no city sanction for residential usage.


The cornice was intact as late as the 1940's.  photo via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.
No. 228 quickly transformed from manufacturing to artistic.  In 1973 Meredith Monk used a loft as a performance space.  On May 12 that year The New York Times columnist Don McDonagh reported on her program "Paris," performed by herself and Ping Chong.  "It also concentrated on simple walking or circling steps but was broken into dramatic vignettes," he said.



Additional performance spaces opened.  Maugaret Beau and Lee Nagrin's dance space was in the building by 1978; and in 1980 James Staley and his partner David Weinstein (both composers) created Roulette in their loft.  On October 10, 1982 Times journalist Tim Page wrote "James Staley has found a novel way to make use of the living room of his downtown loft:  he puts on concerts.  Fifty or 60 evenings every season, Mr. Staley tidies up his cluttered, comfortable dwelling, puts out some folding chairs and creates Roulette, a makeshift performance space."  Roulette still operates from the second floor today.

The Loft Theater was in the building by 1985.  It was the scene of innovative performances like the "choreographic chamber music" that summer during which Margaret Beals danced as pianist Thomas Hrynkiv played Chopin on the piano.

The ground floor became home to Bubble Lounge in the mid-1990's, described by Monique P. Yazigi in The Times as "stressless chic."  The name referred to the lounge's focus on Champagne.  The broad variety of the bubbly wine was offered by the bottle, glass, or half-glass.

It was not until 2002 that a conversion officially resulted in "living/work quarters for artists" above the restaurant level--just one per floor.



The handsome facades on both streets have suffered abuse, including the loss of the cornices and various decorative elements.  But overall they are intact, including the 19th century iron storefronts.

photographs by the author

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

The 1894 Lexington Building - 151 East 25th Street (aka 152 East 26th Street)


photograph by Beyond My Ken

New Yorkers were served by mélange of transportation options in the 19th century--horse-drawn street cars, cable and traction cars, and elevated trains.  As the century drew to a close the numerous small firms were being rapidly consolidated as they were gobbled up by larger companies or merging.

On December 12, 1893 the Houston, the Broadway Railway and the South Ferry Railroad merged to form the Metropolitan Street Railway Company.  Five months later the Lexington Avenue, the Pavonia Ferry Railroad and the Metropolitan Cross-Town Railway were added; and later in 1895 so was the Columbus and Ninth Avenue Railroad.

By then work was well underway for a power house to serve the firm's gargantuan needs.  The site engulfed nearly the entire block between East 25th and 26th Streets, between Lexington and Third Avenues.  The well-known architectural firm of William Schicken & Co. had been commissioned to design what would be called the Lexington Building, completed early in 1896.


The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, December 14, 1895 (copyright expired)

The architects created a dignified building that looked as much like a commercial structure as a power house.   The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide called it "a monument of strength and beauty [which] marks the era of a new departure in modern and progressive building for that vicinity."  It described the "inviting facade" as being "as nearly perfect as the combination of stone, brick, steel and other fire-proof material would permit."

The Renaissance Revival style structure was clad in speckled "Pompeiian" brick and trimmed in limestone and terra cotta.  The 25th and 26th Street elevations were essentially identical, with massive arched openings at the ground floor, four-story arcades at the third through sixth floors, and regimented, symmetrical balance throughout.


Close inspection reveals exquisite details, like the thin terra cotta bands between courses of brick.

To provide interior light and ventilation the building engulfed a large court paved in white bricks.  The steam power plant itself took up only the basement and first floor levels; the upper floors were always intended to be leased as office and factory space.  And it appears that printing firms had always been anticipated as tenants.  The floors were constructed to uphold 325 pounds per square foot; easily strong enough to accommodate heavy printing presses.

And, indeed, printing and publishing firms quickly moved in.  Among the first were two bookbinding firms, Robert Rutter & Son, and William Launder.  Publisher The S. S. McClure Co. also moved its gigantic operation into the building.


New-York Tribune, December 8, 1897 (copyright expired)

Founded by Samuel Sidney McClure in 1893, McClure's Magazine was a favorite in American households.  It was noted for serializing works by respected authors like Rudyard Kipling, Robert Louis Stevenson, Willa Cather, Jack London and many others.

McClure partnered with Frank Nelson Double to form the publishing firm Doubleday & McClure, which also took space in the Lexington Building.


New-York Tribune, September 30, 1898 (copyright expired)

The tenants were not all from the publishing field.  The Hygiene Manufacturing Company made caps.  An advertisement in The World on May 23, 1897 touted the waterproof "Common-Sense" wool cap.  

Wheelmen [i.e., bicyclists], equestrians, lovers of outdoor sports, the tens of thousands who prefer to wear a cap all or a part of the time, and who have suffered from headaches, profuse perspiration and the debilitating effects of exercise under a torrid sun, will welcome with joy the announcement that inventive skill has at last come to their relief.

And in the first months of 1897 The Sterling Supply & Manufacturing Company moved its factory onto the third floor of the Lexington Building.  The firm manufactured street railway supplies like insulators, brakes, indicators and such.

By 1908 The Magazine of History was published in the building.  Its editor, William Abbott, made the newspapers in July that year when he caused an uproar on the uptown Madison Avenue street car line.  The New York Times described the elderly, bearded man as "wearing a linen jacket and carrying a Bible" when a young stock broker named John E. Irwin got on board smoking a cigarette.

Abbott commanded the conductor to expel him from the car and when he did not, the two men got into "a heated argument."  The Times said that "the whole car soon joined."  Before it was over the offending smoker had spent fifteen minutes in a patrol wagon with other prisoners, two hours in a jail cell, and another hour in the West Side Court.


The Literary Collector, October 1901 (copyright expired)

In January 1906 the New York Interborough Railway and the Metropolitan Street Railway consolidated to form the Interborough-Metropolitan Company.  A few days before, on December 30, 1905, the Record & Guide shrugged "The incident affords one more illustration of the often-repeated statement that this kind of service is a natural monopoly."

The Financial Panic of 1907 devastated the public transportation system and the company and its subsidiaries went into receivership until 1912 when they were turned over to the control of the Interborough Consolidated Corporation.

The changes were being seen within the Lexington Building.  On April 21, 1909 The Horseless Age reported on the establishment of The Lexington Garage which "occupies part of the ground floor of the Lexington Building...The balance of the building is used for lofts and as an electric power station, which formerly occupied the entire ground floor."  The Lexington Garage was used "only for the storage of electric commercial vehicles, and is operated by the New York Transportation Company in connection with its taxicab garage."

In the meantime, printing and related firms continued to operate from the upper floors.  Lithographers Seiter & Kappes were in the building by 1900 and The Schweinler Press was here by 1904.  Pfister Book Binding Co. was listed in the Lexington Building as early as 1912.


Giant terra cotta roundels fill the spandrels between the ground floor arches.

The year 1913 saw major tenants move in, including The Publishers' Weekly and printing firm Andrew H. Kellogg Company.  The Publishers' Weekly had been at the same location downtown for around 40 years.   Now an agreement between the two firms meant that Kellogg would be doing the printing of Publishers' Weekly.  The two firms shared the sixth floor of the Lexington Building.

Also moving in that year was the embossing firm Walcutt Brothers, which took the third floor, and Stuart Specialty Co., which took the fourth.  Another large publishing and printing house to take space was Frank A. Munsey, publisher of the New York Press, Argosy Magazine and inexpensive novels.

At the time New York City, along with nearby areas like Brooklyn and northern New Jersey, was the center of the silent film industry.  In August 1918 the Famous Players-Lasky Corp. leased the fifth floor of the Lexington Building.  The Record & Guide noted it "will use the premises as headquarters for the distribution of advertising matter."


The New York Herald, January 8, 1922 (copyright expired)

In 1925 Charles Schweisler Press purchased the building.  Among the tenants it inherited was the Walker Engraving Company which had occupied the seventh floor for years.  In 1915 Walker Engraving Company had employed a staff of 85 men.  The shop was the scene of a terrifying accident on April 13, 1926.

The New York Sun reported "One workman was slightly injured and some 500 employees of various firms in the building were sent scurrying to the street to-day when acid exploded in the chemical room of the Walker Engraving Company."  Luckily David Levin only suffered burns on his left hand and the fire which resulted from the explosion was quickly put out.  


The former loading dock on East 25th Street still bears the name The Lexington Building.  photograph by Tdorante10

The Walker Engraving Company would remain in the building into the 1940's.  Another firm occupying space in the building in the Depression years was the Ever Ready Label Corporation.  Its president, Sidney Hollander, made a kind gesture to the employees in December 1936 when, according to the New York Post, he announced "that the company would make each employee a Christmas gift of his share of the society security tax for the coming year."

Telecom Plus operated from the Lexington Building following its formation in 1983.  Its tenancy would be short-lived, however.  On September 12, 1986 The New York Times announced that Baruch College would acquire "the historic Lexington Building" among other property purchases.  Baruch's director of campus planning and facilities said that $50 million would be spent "to renovate the Lexington Building, which is to house the college's library, computer center and administrative offices for student groups."

The initial report developed by architects Davis Brody & Associates alarmed some because of its mention of possible "additional stories."  Jack Taylor, in a letter to the editor of The New York Times on May 14, 1989 warned that adding additional stories would "rob the building of its architectural and historic significance."  If that part of the report was ever seriously considered, it was soon dropped.


The 26th Street elevation is essentially a duplicate of the 25th.

William Schickel & Co.'s handsome 1894 power plant is today home to the Baruch's William and Anita Newman Library.  Its facade has been gently restored and the conversion from commercial to educational use sympathetically executed.

non-credited photographs by the author

non-credited photographs by the author

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

The New York Cancer Hospital - Central Park West and 106th Street


photo by Sarah Javier

At the same time that Charlotte Augusta Astor, wife of John Jacob Astor III, was actively supporting cancer research and the care of victims of the then-incurable disease, Elizabeth Hamilton Cullum, the wife of Major-General George Washington Cullum, conceived of a hospital dedicated solely to the treatment of cancer.  

In 1882 John Jacob Astor offered to erect a pavilion for the treatment of cancer patients at the Women's Hospital.  Astor's generous offer was refused, so he turned to Elizabeth Cullum's idea of a New York Cancer Hospital and in 1884 the project got off the ground.  On May 17 The Record & Guide announced "The Cancer Hospital has taken title to the property on Eighth avenue [later Central Park West], recently purchased from Mr. Cohnfeld."  That property, engulfing the blockfront from 105th to 106th Street, came at a price of $80,000--about $2.15 million today.

Architect Charles Coolidge Haight filed plans in September.  Construction costs were projected at the equivalent of just over $5 million today.  Physicians provided him with guidelines on the most up-to-minute theories on hospital design.

Elizabeth Cullum would not live to see her vision completed.  On September 15, the same month that the plans were filed, she died.  When the details of her estate were released The Syracuse Standard reported on November 20 "The late Mrs. Elizabeth H. Cullum's will provides that her whole estate in New York city shall go to the New York Cancer Hospital."  Her West Coast property went to her husband.

On August 15, 1885 as the hospital rose the Record & Guide commented "This is of considerably more interest than all the buildings we have been talking about put together.  The novelty of the design, the group of round towers that give the building its resemblance to a sixteenth century French chateau, is an outgrown of the plan, since in the diseases to the treatment of which this hospital is devoted it is especially desirable to avoid corners which prevent the thorough cleaning of rooms."  The physicians who had consulted with Haight had urged that corners, where germs may accumulate and grow, be avoided.

Before the main building was completed Haight was called back to design a four-story "laundry and dormitory building" and a one-story "boiler-house."  The Record & Guide noted on January 2, 1886 "The laundry will contain accommodations for persons employed in that department."

The formal opening of the first facility dedicated to the treatment of cancer in the United States (there was only one other in the world, that one in London) was held on December 6, 1887.  The Evening World noted that "The building and grounds cost $350,000."  Of that amount Astor had contributed $200,000 (more than $5.5 million in today's money).  In announcing the ceremonies, The Evening Telegram said "Unfortunately Mrs. Astor is too ill to be present."  Ironically, she died of cancer six days later.

Even at the opening ceremonies there was talk of expansion.  The Sun reported that John E. Parsons, president of the board of trustees, said that "the present building is for women only, and the next to be built will be for men.  A chapel will also be built.

Charles C. Haight had created an architectural tour de force.  The Record & Guide said "The design belongs to the best period of French renaissance, such as greet the eye in the valley of the Loire distinguished by soft graceful lines, full of repose and calm beauty, and tourelles appropriate to the gentle undulations of the landscape."

The ground floor held the office of the superintendent, reception rooms, staff offices and a temporary chapel.  The Medical Record reported "The main staircase is of bronze, with stone steps."  The second and third floors contained wards and private rooms.  Each ward, located in the rounded towers, held eleven patients.  Private rooms contained one or two beds.  Haight put the operating theater and kitchen on the top floor--the first because of the better light, and the kitchen to keep the cooking smells and smoke away from the patients.  


The Architectural Record, July 1899 (copyright expired)
Ventilation in the wards was of utmost importance. “It has been found that the air of each ward can be changed completely with closed doors and windows every five minutes, and that, too, without producing annoying and dangerous draughts,” said The Times.  Openings in the brick walls between the windows brought fresh air into the rooms. The “vitiated air” was sucked out through an iron column in the center of each ward by a fan in the cellar.


Natural light flooded into the operating theaters on the top floor.  from the archives of Memorial Sloane Kettering

John Jacob Astor continued to give generously to the institution.  Two years after the opening, on January 5, 1889, the Record & Guide reported that Charles C. Haight was again working on drawings, this time for an addition "which is to be known as the 'Astor Pavilion,' and also for a memorial chapel."  The cost would be paid "from a fund devoted to the purpose by Mr. Astor."


Haight's chapel (center) and men's pavilion were designed seamlessly.  photo by Jim Henderson

Astor had provided another $145,000 for a men's pavilion.  The New-York Daily Tribune reminded readers "At present the hospital receives only women, having accommodations for seventy."  The new wing would double that capacity with these beds for men.

On May 2, 1890 The Otsego Farmer detailed the works of the facility.  "The New York cancer hospital, as well known as the 'Astor hospital,' because of the liberal foundations given it by that family, counts among its patrons the very elect of New York's best families...The number of patients treated in 1889 was 273; and an average of 40 days was devoted to each patient."  Of those 106 cases were "cured," 71 "improved," 82 unimproved, 42 died and 18 were still undergoing treatment.

Patients paid $7 to $20 week while they were hospitalized--the most expensive equaling about $580 today.  The article pointed out that "This is remitted where the patient is unable to pay."

The men's pavilion was completed first.  The Chapel of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, named as a memorial to Elizabeth Hamilton Cullum, was dedicated on November 27, 1892.  The Sun reported "The prevailing tone of decoration is gold bronze, which contrasts admirably with the oaken work and the stone."


The chapel and men's pavilion were added to the southern end of the original building.  King's Handbook of New York City, 1893 (copyright expired)

In May 1899 the New York legislature changed the name of the institution to General Memorial Hospital for Treatment of Cancer and Allied Diseases.  The name change most likely had to do with the broadened case load.  Two months later the Architectural Record noted that it "was projected as a cancer hospital, though it is now used only in part, if at all, for that purpose."

A horrifying accident occurred here early in 1903.  Madeline Calder was being prepared for an operation by nurse Helen Smith who rubbed her body with a mixture of alcohol and ether.  The Evening World reported "The nurse, it is alleged, disobeyed one of the rules of the hospital in using a lighted candle, instead of performing her duties by the aid of the electric light."

The candle sat within a small glass and, rather foolishly, Helen placed it on the bed as she worked.  "It upset and set fire to the bedclothes.  Mrs. Calder endeavored to throw herself out of the blazing bed, but it was too late, and she died a short time afterwards, after suffering excruciating agony."  Madeline's husband, John H. Calder, sued General Memorial Hospital for the equivalent of $3 million in today's dollars.

Despite the incident, the General Memorial Hospital continued to treat some of the wealthiest and most prominent New Yorkers.  Among them were August Belmont, who received an appendicitis operation in February 1909; Herbert L. Satterlee, son-in-law of J. Pierpont Morgan in 1912; and Mrs. August Belmont (who, like her husband, also had an appendicitis operation) in 1915. 


A view from 106th Street taken around 1930 shows the still-pristine courtyard.  from the archives of Memorial Sloan Kettering.
The hospital underwent two name changes before moving out of the old building permanently in 1955 as Memorial Sloan Kettering Hospital.  Shortly thereafter Bernard Bergman purchased the structure, converting it to Towers Nursing Home. Bergman managed the home with scandalous disregard for the patients or their conditions. Residents complained of no heat, vermin infestations, neglect, filth and odors, and physical abuse.

The wards, created with no corners to preclude the accumulation of dirt, were soiled and sickening. Prompted by numerous grievances, state and federal authorities initiated an investigation. Towers Nursing Home was closed in 1974. Only when the New York Landmarks Preservation Commission gave the building landmark status was demolition prevented.

Haight’s remarkable French Renaissance chateau sat empty and neglected for twenty-six years. Vandals broke in.  Rain poured through the windows and roof.  It became Central Park West’s version of a haunted house.  Ailanthus trees grew from the turrets

In 2001 Chicago developers MCL Companies purchased the structure.  Architects Rothzeid Kaiserman Thomson & Bee had been working on various proposals for the renovation of 455 Central Park West for almost 20 years.  Now the two firms began working together to bring the building back to life.



The extent of the decay was far worse than almost anyone had imagined.  The interior was essentially gutted.  Everything other than the exterior walls had to be replaced.  Using historic photographs, Rothzeid Kaiserman Thomson & Bee removed mid-20th century additions, replicated details that could not be saved, and used salvaged elements to restore the main structure.

Charles Haight's "gold bronze" decorations were resurfaced as the chapel transformed to residences.  photo via RKTB Architects
In 2004 the renovated building was complete.  The historic hospital consists, now, of luxury apartments–even in the neo-Gothic style chapel–connected to a 22-story tower.  The renovation earned no fewer than six awards from preservation and engineering organizations. 

Monday, April 20, 2020

The Lost Sinclair Hotel - Broadway and 8th Street


photo from the collection of the New York University Archives, Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

Around 1840 a roadhouse was opened on the southeast corner of Broadway and 8th Street.  Decades later the New York Herald would recall that it "was celebrated for its toothsome terrapin, its canvas back ducks, its turtle soup, its oyster and tripe stews, no less than for its more plebeian corned beef and cabbage.  Fashionable New York used to drive out there--Eighth street was suburban in those days--for its game dinners, its champagne and its mixed drinks."

The inn sat on part of the 24-acre former summer estate of Captain Robert Richard Randall.  Upon his death in 1801 his will directed that the land was to be used for an "Asylum or Marine Hospital, to be called the Sailor's Snug Harbor."  The organization was formed; however Randall's family established the hospital and grounds on Staten Island.  Nevertheless, the Sailors' Snug Harbor organization would retain ownership of the land for decades to come.

The roadhouse was purchased by Robert Sinclair in 1855, who renamed it Sinclair House.  In 1860 he sold the inn and the leasehold on the property to Amaziah Levi Ashman, who promptly demolished it and erected a handsome new hotel which retained the former name.  

The five-story Italianate style structure was faced in brick and trimmed in stone.  Its entrance portico was crowned by a balustrade, stone quoins ran up the corners of the upper stories, and a triangular pediment sat above the bracketed cornice which announced the hotel's name.

Ashman was just 29-years old.  Born in Lakeville, New York on May 12, 1831, he had come to New York in 1857 and opened a restaurant directly across the street from the Sinclair House on the northwest corner of Broadway and 8th Street.  His family had been in America for generations, his Puritan ancestors having arrived on the Arabella not long after the landing of the Mayflower.


The Sun, June 1, 1913 (copyright expired)
Ashman, his wife Ellen, and their son and daughter lived in the hotel.  Despite his relative youth, Ashman was an adept hosteler.  The Sun later noted "The establishment became celebrated for the excellence of its cuisine and for its old vintage wines."  An advertisement in the New York Herald on May 23, 1863 hints at the bustling environment. "Wanted--A Good Man to wait on a lunch counter; must understand carving.  Also a good boy."

The hotel became a favorite for political groups.  In 1863 it was the headquarters of Charles Godfrey Gunther's mayoral campaign.  On May 18, 1864 the New York Herald announced "The McClellan Union Central Executive Committee will meet at the Sinclair House on Wednesday evening;" and the following month the New York Democratic General Committee held its meeting here.

The New York Herald reported on a large gathering of Tammany members on June 5, 1869.  "An excellent collation was served to the members of the society, and a most recherecé ditto in a separate room to the sachems and their friends and guests.  The whole was got up under the immediate superintendence of Mr. Ashman."


from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Around 1878 Ashman hired George M. Bersick to the position of clerk--a highly responsible position that involved the handling of cash and management of the books.  It may have been a favor to Ellen Ashman, since Bersick was her brother-in-law.  Bersick worked side-by-side with a veteran clerk who had worked in the hotel for about twelve years.

That clerk resigned in 1883 after the death of his father, who left him a sizable inheritance.  His vacancy prompted Ashman to become more involved in the hands-on operations of the day-to-day financial end of things.  To his shock he discovered that the two men had been keeping a false set of books and systematically stealing for years.  Each had pocketed the equivalent of about $132,000 today.  While his cohort repaid the money, Bersick never did.  The New York Times said that Ashman did not prosecute "out of sympathy for his wife."

The newspaper was less forgiving, later revealing: "But his sympathy...was altogether misplaced, as the sequel proved.  It was not long after Bersick's discharge from the Sinclair House before he deserted his wife and two children, it is charged, leaving them altogether without support and went to live with a woman in rooms in Tenth street.  Mrs. Bersick was compelled to take boarders to support herself and children."

In January 1888 Ashman noticed that items were disappearing from the public rooms.  He notified police Inspector Thomas F. Byrnes that "three bronze figures, two Japanese vases and two silver cake baskets had been stolen on difference occasion within two or three days from the ladies' parlor," as reported by The New York Times on February 9.  Upon looking closer into the situation, detectives discovered similar burglaries from other hotels.

Based only on descriptions from hotel guests, the investigators arrested a "respectable appearing and well-dressed young man," James Miller.  In his pockets were pawn tickets for items taken from the Sinclair House.  The reason he gave for the thefts was shocking.  "He told Inspector Byrnes that he was always of a religious turn of mind and had been connected with various church societies, but found that this work did not pay," reported The Times.

An annual event at the Sinclair House was the meeting of the Hoboken Turtle Club, of which Ashman was a member.  About 200 members assembled each year and although business was conducted, it was the meal for which they really came.  On June 8, 1888, for instance, The New York Times reported on the previous evening's gathering.  "After the meeting those present enjoyed an evening lunch of turtle soup, chowder, and other Turtle Club delicacies."

Ashman's office and desk held photographs of several of the celebrated guests who routinely stopped at the Sinclair House, some of whom became his friends.  Among the photographs were Grover Cleveland, who began patronizing the hotel before he became Governor; Horace Greeley and William Cullen Bryant, both personal friends of Ashman; and author Francis Marion Crawford.

In 1894 Amaziah Ashman swallowed what was described as "some foreign matter" which caused a perforation of the intestines.  Doctors expected the injury to result in his death.  To everyone's surprise, although he suffered pain and discomfort, he survived and continued to run the Sinclair House for another eight years.  But on October 23, 1902 The Evening World entitled an article "A. L. Ashman Is Dying" and said his condition was "so serious that his death was expected hourly."  The article added that he "is one of the best known hotel men in the country."

Two days later newspapers across the city reported on his death.  By now he owned two other hotels, the College Inn on Jerome Avenue and the Hotel Boniface on Columbus Avenue and 123rd Street.  He was also a trustee of the Astor Place Bank (of which he was a founder), and a vice-president of the Excelsior Savings Bank.

Ellen inherited the hotel and the leasehold.  Two years later she hosted an impressive dinner for Cardinal Francesco Satolli.  The first apostolic delegate to the United States, he had sailed to America in 1904 to attend the St. Louis Exposition.  On August 10 The New York Times reported "Mrs. Ellen A. Ashman gave a farewell dinner in honor of Cardinal Satolli, who sails for Italy on the steamship Sardegna to-day, in her apartment in the Sinclair House last evening."

Among the twenty-five guests were Archbishop John M. Farley, Archbishop P. J. Ryan of Philadelphia, Bishop James A. McFaul of Trenton, and Mgr. Dennis O'Connell, President of the Catholic University in Washington.  Prominent Catholic New Yorkers were also in attendance.  The Times said "Cardinal red was the predominating tone of the decorations, in which the Stars and Stripes and the Papal colors figured largely."

On November 21, 1906 an auction was held of the "very desirable Sailors' Snug Harbor leasehold, having 105 years to run from May 1, 1906...of the 5-story brick Hotel and 3-story buildings known as the Sinclair House."  Ellen Ashman repurchased the leasehold under the name of the newly-organized Sinclair Realty Company.  The firm announced intentions "to improve the site within the next five years," according to the Real Estate Record & Guide which added "Benjamin W. Levitan...has prepared plans for two structures, one for a first-class hotel and another for a high office and loft building."


A sign announcing the auction of the furniture and fixtures is plastered on the facade as demolition nears.  Leslie's Weekly, May 4, 1908 (copyright expired)
The decision would not come for nearly two years.  But then, "The Sinclair House on April 4, 1908, closed its doors at midnight and the key was turned for the first time since the place was opened more than half a century before," wrote The Sun.   The Record & Guide added "The famous old hostelry is going to be demolished on May 1.  A 12-sty commercial and office building is going to be erected on the site."



Designed by William H. Gompert for the Sinclair Realty Company, the building survives.