The Andrew Mount House - 9 St. Mark's Place

An announcement appeared in The Evening Post on September 6, 1842:

Boarding and Day School for Young Ladies, No. 9 St. Mark's place.

Mrs. M. L. Mitchell will re-open her school on Monday, 12th Sept.

The exclusive school was housed in a recently erected, 32-foot-wide mansion within an elegant residential neighborhood.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone, its Greek Revival entrance above a high stone stoop was just left of center, providing for a grand, commodious front parlor.  Almost assuredly the floor-to-ceiling parlor level openings were fronted with cast iron balconies.  Three-and-a-half stories tall, the squat attic level succeeded the peaked roof and dormers of the earlier Federal style.

Mrs. Mitchell most likely leased the house.  It was sold at auction in 1846 and became home to Dr. R. L. Morris until 1850, when Andrew Mount purchased the property.  The advertisement he answered described it as a "desirable and valuable house and lot" with "three stories, attic, garret, and fine basement, has the Croton Water and Gas throughout, furnaces, fine large under cellar flagged and ceiled, wine closets, &c."

Mount was an auctioneer, a partner in Wilmerdings & Mount at 512 Beaver Street.  Around 1856, his son, William Mount, joined the firm.

Many affluent families took in a boarder.  The Mounts only occasionally did so and years would pass between them.  In 1856, Daniel Woodhouse, a lawyer at 6 Wall Street, lived with the family.  It would not be until 1863 that another boarder was listed--Bryce Gray, who was an importer.  Gray's residency was extremely short.  He enlisted in the Union Army that year.

Starting in 1873, William Mount was no longer listed at the address, suggesting he had married.  In 1875, the Mounts left St. Mark's Place and the dwelling became home to John Ashley Lockw0od and his family.

Lockwood's American pedigree was deep, tracing his roots to Robert Lockwood who arrived in 1630.  Born in Peekskill, New York in 1823, he married Hannah Elizabeth Mott on June 4, 1844.  Hannah was seven years younger than he.  The couple had 14 children, four of whom died in infancy.  It appears that only one, Elizabeth G. Lockwood, lived here with her parents.

It was almost certainly Lockwood who raised the attic to a full fourth floor.  In remodeling the house, the basement was converted to a doctor's office for Edmund P. Banning, Sr. and his sons, Edmund Jr. and Archibald T. Banning.  Edmund Sr. advertised himself as "the original inventor of Banning's Braces, Trusses and Spinal Supports."

Hannah took in numerous boarders.  Living with the family in 1876, for instance, were Hamilton Cole, an attorney; Edward Edgerton; William G. White, a cashier; and Rev. William H. Leavall.

Hamilton Cole was described by the New-York Tribune as "a well known lawyer."  Born in New York City in 1844, he prepared for college at the Claverack Prep Academy and graduated salutatorian from Yale in 1866.  He then studied at the Columbia Law School.  He was counsel for the American Express Company and for Wells, Fargo & Co.

Although the influx of immigrants after the Civil War had changed the immediate neighborhood, Hamilton Cole's memberships reveal that the Lockwood's operation was still upscale.  He was a member of the American and the Coney Island Jockey Clubs, the Gentlemen's Driving Club and the University and Grolier Clubs.  Never married, among his most visible cases were the "Grant and Ward" suits.  They arose from the collapse of Ferdinand Ward's Wall Street firm in 1884 as a result of what today would be called a Ponzi scheme.  It ruined many investors (including Ulysses S. Grant) and started a Wall Street panic.

Hamilton Cole was "speeding his horses" along Seventh Avenue in the early part of October 1889.  He was "thrown out of his road-wagon," as reported by the New-York Tribune, and severely injured.  Pneumonia set in and he died in the St. Mark's Place house on October 28 at the age of 45.  His funeral was held in St. Mark's Church on October 30.

In the meantime, a Dr. Theel had taken over the doctor's office by 1884.  In November that year, he advertised:

Dr. Theel, European hospital experience, guarantees to cure afflicted & unfortunate (acute cases in 4 to 10 days), both sexes, after failure of all others.  Hours 8 to 12 A. M., 2 to 4 & 6 to 8 P. M.  9 St. Mark's place, N.Y.

The affects of the changes in the district arrived at 9 St. Mark's Place in 1886 when the former physician's office became what the New-York Tribune described as "'Jake' Wunderlich's gambling place."  On the night of February 28 that year, saloon owner William Pittschau and Louis C. Bruns, a court clerk, were involved "in a quarrel over a game of poker" here, according to the newspaper.  Pittschau punched Bruns in the face, resulting in a black eye.  Bruns retaliated in court.  It very well might have been the fact that he was a court official that resulted in his being awarded $50 in damages (more than $1,700 in 2025 terms).

It was about this time that the Lockwoods relocated.  The 1889 Colonial and Revolutionary History of the Lockwood Family in America mentions, "After making several fortunes and losing them all, [John Ashley Lockwood] is now striving to make another near Rugby on the Cumberland Mountains, where he has 1600 acres."

The basement level was converted to a meeting hall in 1890.  It was here on August 25 that the Central Labor Union met to make arrangements for an upcoming mass protest in Union Square.  

It was also the meeting place of the recently formed Radical Club.  The World editorialized on December 24, 1890 that the members "are enthusiastic on all queer things which happen in the heavens above, the earth beneath or the waters under the earth."  The Home-Maker, in its January 1891 issue, was less subjective, saying, "It consists of men and women, and its object is to raise a fund to aid liberty-loving men and women, and distribute literature which will aid their purpose."

Robert and Mary E. Lawson purchased 9 St. Mark's Place in April 1893 for $35,000 (about $1.26 million today).  They leased the meeting hall to various groups, including the Good Government Club in 1895, and the Gramercy Wheelmen (a bicycle club) by the following year.

Things changed as the turn of the century approached, however.  Sparked by complaints by Philip Cohen that "he had lost about $200, in small amounts, in a poolroom at 9 St. Mark's Place," according to The New York Times on March 18, the basement level was raided several times that spring.  (A poolroom was an illegal gambling den where bets were taken on horse racing.)  

The following year, on March 9, 1900, the newspaper reported, "When agents of the Society for the Prevention of Crime...swooped down upon a place at 9 St. Mark's Place, they surprised more than 300 men and boys, and caught two alleged principals with money in their hands, and also seized a wagonload of poolroom paraphernalia."  The article said they, 

...found its nest of alleged gamblers on the second floor of an old mansion.  The massive rosewood door for several minutes resisted the efforts of the six detectives and a like number of members of the Essex Market Court Squad...When it finally yielded to the blows of a big iron hammer, a scene of wild excitement and terror was revealed, those inside rushing from side to side of the room, vainly seeking some means of escape.

Mary E. Lawson continued to operate the property after her husband's death.  In January 1907, she leased the parlor floor (the former poolroom space had already been converted for business purposes) to George Bernard.  

A renovation in 1924 resulted in a pool parlor (this type of pool room having nothing to do with horse betting) in the basement and a restaurant on the first floor.  The upper three floors became the home of owner Samuel Bader.  But by the Depression years, that portion of the house was again rented rooms.

Living in one of those rooms in 1933 was Albert Schwartz, a fascinating figure.  Born in Austria and formerly a lieutenant in the Austria-Hungarian army, he worked in the Krupp steelworks in Essen, Germany before immigrating to America in 1900.  Here, he turned to inventing military devices.

In 1922, he perfected a bullet-proof vest which interested the New York City Police Department.  The New York Times reported, "After an exhaustive--and for spectators--a nerve-wracking test in which Schwartz fired six high-powered bullets against the chest of an assistant wearing one of the vests, eleven were purchased for use in special duty."  Schwartz also designed a light, rapid-fire gun, and a parachute that he sold to the Mexican Government.  His inventions made him "well-to-do," according to The Times, but he lost his fortune in the Depression.  Now, living in a furnished room here, he worked as a waiter in the Hubsch Restaurant.

On January 4, 1933, The New York Times reported that the 60-year-old inventor was found dead in his room.  "The windows were closed and a gas heater was still burning."  He had died from carbon monoxide gas.

In 1941, a billards parlor and bowling alley occupied the basement, while a restaurant operated on the parlor level.  The Greek Revival entrance and magnificent stoop railings survived.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The second half of the 20th century saw the East Village revitalized with trendy shops.  The basement level of 9 St. Mark's Place was split into two sections, one of which became Grizzly Furs, a vintage clothing store, in 1967.  That same year La MaMa, an off-off Broadway theater founded by Ellen Stewart, moved temporarily into the other side while its permanent home on East Fourth Street was being readied.

Grizzly Furs was operated by Charles Fitzgerald, who was also a teacher.  He supplanted it with Bowl & Board, a woodenware shop.  The entrepreneur eventually ran seven businesses along the block, with Bowl & Board having branches around the country.  He purchased 9 St. Mark's Place and another building across the street at No. 12.

The Villager, December 3, 1981

In 2008 Boka restaurant opened in the basement level and in 2016 Nohohon tearoom moved into the former parlor level. 

The former mansion, which boasted rosewood interior doors and sumptuous furnishings that would have equaled those of the city's wealthiest citizens, is hard to recognize today.  Its Greek Revival entrance and stone stoop have been eradicated and a faux stone veneer clings to the basement walls.  And yet, much of its 1840s appearance survives.  

photographs by the author

The Emanuel Kaplan House - 67 East 77th Street

 

John McNerney completed construction of eight four-story-and-basement homes on East 77th Street between Park and Madison Avenues in 1877.  Designed by Thomas S. Godwin, they were three bays wide and faced in brownstone.  Godwin likely designed the row in the Italianate or neo-Grec design.

67 East 77th Street would have been similar to this house, across the street.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

John Owen Mott and his wife, the former Caroline E. Mors, purchased 67 East 77th Street.  The couple had three young children, Augusta, Joshua Mors, and Nellie.

An attorney, Mott was born in Half Moon, New York on October 18, 1829.  After serving in the Civil War, he was elected Assistant United State District Attorney for the Southern District of New York.  

John O. Mott gained a reputation for his unbending discipline and harsh sentences.  In 1882, he charged that New York Police Captain Gunner was negligent.  The New-York Tribune explained, "The charges were that the police had allowed dirt to be dumped in the streets, in front of private residences, in violation of the city ordinances."  Gunner retaliated, telling the Police Board on June 2:

For the most of the last week the roadway in front of No. 67 East Seventy-seventh-st. was strewn with about three cart-loads of old plaster and other rubbish taken from Mr. Mott's house, while it was being repaired.  To my surprise, on visiting that house today, I found nine empty lime barrels and some old lumber in the street immediately in front of it.

In 1891, 17-year-old Joshua Mors Mott contracted "consumption"--the 19th century term for tuberculosis.  Rather than send him to a sanitarium, which were often grim, his parents opted to have him treated at home.  Three years later, on November 27, 1894, the New-York Tribune reported, "Joshua M. Mott, only son of Assistant United States District-Attorney John O. Mott, died yesterday at his home, No. 67 East Seventy-seventh-st."  His funeral was held in the parlor on the 28th.

The following year was much more positive for the family.  In 1895, John O. Mott was appointed a city magistrate, and on December 8, The New York World reported, "One of the big home weddings of the week will be that of Miss Nellie Mott and Mr. Stephen K. Watts."  The article said that the house would be "trimmed with a profusion of choice flowers and exotics" and noted, "There will be as many as five hundred guests."  On December 13, the day after the ceremony, the New-York Tribune reported it was, "followed by a large reception."

By the turn of the century, John Mott was experiencing health problems.  On June 27, 1901, The New York Times reported, "City Magistrate John O. Mott who has been ill at his home, 67 East Seventy-seventh Street, from a heart affection, was improved last evening, and it was said he would probably go to the country today."  Caroline's health, too, was failing.

On August 25, 1902, Mott did not attend court, "owing to the serious illness of his wife," according to The New York Times.  The article said, "Mrs. Mott has been ill for some time, but on Thursday night her condition took a turn for the worse, and last evening it was said at the house that she was not expected to recover."  Caroline died on August 30 at the age of 62.  The New York Times reported, "Magistrate Mott, who has been ill for some time, was reported yesterday to be much improved, and it is expected that he will be well enough to attend his wife's funeral."

Now only he and Augusta remained in the house.  Mott's continuing health problems became untenable for some of his colleagues.  On June 23, 1903, attorney Charles P. Blaney filed papers seeking Mott's removal from the bench.  They charged that he had "been for eight months past physically and mentally incapable of attending [his] duties."  Three months later, on September 25, The New York Times reported, "Magistrate Mott, who entered a sanitarium in Darien [Connecticut] several weeks ago almost a total wreck physically and mentally, has been gaining wonderfully in mental and physical vigor."  Nevertheless, the respected jurist would never leave the facility.  He died on August 11, 1905 and his body was returned to the East 77th Street house for his funeral.  

John O. Mott's estate sold 67 East 77th Street in April 1906 to Julia K. Benjamin.  In May 1908, she hired architect Charles A. Rich, whose plans called for "enlarging and partly remodelling [sic]" the house.  (The "enlarging" most likely was an addition to the rear.)  Benjamin leased the remodeled residence to attorney Dudley Davis and his wife, the former Alice M. Grosvenor."

The couple maintained a home in Newport.  While living here, their three children were born--Dudley in 1909, Rose Grosvenor in 1912, and William Grosvenor in 1914.

Emanuel Kaplan purchased 67 East 77th Street in August 1922.  A month later, on September 16, the Record & Guide reported that he had hired George and Edward Blum to "alter" the architecturally outdated house.  The architects removed the stoop and the brownstone front and gave it a neo-Colonial remake.  The centered entrance sat within the understated, limestone-faced ground floor.  The upper floors were clad in red brick and trimmed in limestone.  At the second floor, a triple arcade of French windows opened onto a faux balcony.  The third and fourth floor windows wore splayed lintels with layered keystones.  The renovations cost Kaplan the equivalent of $281,000 in 2025.

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Kaplan's residency would be short-lived.  In May 1926 he sold it to Rembrandt Peale, Jr.  Born on July 18, 1895, Peale was the grandson of the famous artist Rembrandt Peale.  He and his wife, the former Helena Daly, had two children.  It does not appear that the family ever resided here, but leased it.  Living here in 1927 was lawyer and author Eliot Norton and his wife, the former Margaret P. Meyer.  A writer of broad interests, among his works were On Sales of Securities Through a Stock Broker and Lincoln, Lover of Men.

Adrienne Fogg purchased the house around 1941.  He sold it in 1951 to Manfred Landers who converted the basement to an apartment.  Industrialist, film producer, poet and philanthropist Hyman J. Sobiloff and his wife, Adelaide, lived in the main portion in the 1960s.  Sobiloff's first film,  the 1959 Montauk, was nominated for an Academy Award; and his second, the 1960 Central Park, was selected as a United States entry in the International Film Festival in Venice.

A colorful chapter in the history of the house began in 1981 when Morris Levy purchased it for $525,000, according to Richard Carlin's Godfather of the Music Business.  Levy was a co-founder of Roulette Records and of the Birdland jazz club.  According to the Philadelphia Inquirer on June 25, 1987, Levy eventually owned more than 90 businesses with 900 employees.

Also highly involved in Levy's businesses was gangland boss Vincent "the Chin" Gigante, head of the Genovese crime family.  Gigante lived in Greenwich Village with his wife, Olympia Grippa, whom he married in 1950.  His long-term mistress, Olympia Esposito, was listed as a vice president of Roulette Records.  (FBI agents referred to Gigante's wife as "Olympia 1" and Esposito as "Olympia 2.")  In 1982, a year after purchasing 67 East 77th Street, Levy sold it to Olympia Esposito.  The real estate records reflected that she paid  $490,000, although a later investigation by The Village Voice revealed the price was actually $16,000.

Richard Carlin writes,

After she moved in, Gigante visited the apartment secretly each night after midnight to sleep with Esposito and stage private meetings with his cohorts.  However, after discovering a small pile of plaster dust on the dining room floor, Gigante realized the house was not secure; the FBI had rented an apartment next door and had attempted to plant a bug by drilling through Esposito's ceiling.

Gigante and his wife had five children, Andrew, Salvatore, Yolanda, Roseanne and Rita; and he and Olympia Esposito had three children, Vincent, Lucia and Carmella.  

Vincent Gigante's 1960 mugshot.  via the United States Department of Justice.

Olympia Esposito died in June 1985.  Despite her death, the mobster continued to use 67 East 77th Street.  In reporting on Gigante's sanity hearings on December 29, 1989, The New York Times reported, "Detectives say he has often spent evenings in a white-brick, four-story town house at 67 East 77th Street, near Park Avenue.  City real-estate records list the owner of the building as Olympia Esposito."  

Vincent Louis Gigante was convicted of racketeering and conspiracy in 2003.  He died in the United States Medical Center for Federal Prisoners on December 19, 2005.  His and Olympia's son, Vincent, had inherited the East 77th Street house.  He sold it in 2002 to Nantasit Chitpredakon for $420,000.

Regrettably painted today, the house still has an apartment in the basement level.

photographs by the author

The Matthew B. Wynkoop House - 153 East 33rd Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

When he sat down to his drafting table to design a four-story house at 108 East 33rd Street (renumbered 153 in 1859) the  architect addressed a challenge.  The stoops of the English basement-style houses immediately to the east, running towards Third Avenue, meant the homes sat back from the property line.  The stoop-less American basement-style residences on the west side of the plot did not.  

The architect solved the problem of a potentially unattractive blank wall on one side or the other by designing the three-bay wide facade in a stylized piano lid shape.  The eastern bay, which held the arched entrance two steps above the sidewalk, was flush with its neighbors.  The architect projected the western two bays forward and rounding the corner.  Now this section, too, conformed to the houses on that side.  The house's Italianate design would have included molded lintels and a bracketed cornice.

The brickwork of the rounded corner was deftly executed.  Originally, curved glass panes would have conformed to its shape.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The house was briefly operated as a rooming or boarding house.  Living here in 1855 and '56 were Sam Ellis, a carman, for instance, and engineer Solon Farrer.  The desperate lost-and-found ad of another tenant in 1856 hints at their general financial status:

$5 Reward--Lost in one of the Third Avenue stages, or near the corner of the Bowery and Grand street, twenty-three dollars in gold, rolled in a piece of calico, the property of a poor girl.  The above reward will be paid by leaving it at 108 East 33d st.

(The chance that the girl recovered the lost coins was slim.  The value of the gold would translate to about $840 in 2025, and the reward would equal just under $200.)

Around 1860, Matthew Bennett Wynkoop moved his family into 153 East 33rd Street.  Born in Zanesville, Ohio on February 16, 1830, he came to New York City as a boy.  The New York Times would later say, "He went into the printing business in a small way until he had amassed considerable money."  When he and his wife, the former Susan Vincent, moved in, he was the senior member of the printing firm Wynkoop & Hallenbeck.  The couple had an infant daughter, Madeline May, born on June 29, 1860.

Isaac and Margaret K. Van Cleef (sometimes spelled Vancleef), purchased 153 East 33rd Street around 1866.  Isaac was born in Seneca, New York in 1786.  

In 1867, they advertised, "To Let--Half of a four story house furnished, No. 153 East Thirty-third street, between Lexington and Third avenues."  The ad was answered by 25-year-old James Herbert Morse.

James Herbert Morse (original source unknown)

Born in Hubbardston, Massachusetts in October 1841, Morse graduated from Harvard in 1863 and received his M.A. degree in 1866.  He founded the Morse & Rogers Classical School in 1868, advertising in The New York Times on November 5:

J. H. Morse, A. M., graduate of Harvard and of long experience as a teacher, will open Monday, October 5, at Nos. 621 and 623 6th-av., a select English, Mathematical and Classical School for boys; number limited to twenty; highest references given.  Address J. H. Morse, No. 153 East 33rd-st.

Morse lived with the Van Cleefs until his marriage to artist Lucy Gibbons on May 12, 1870.  James Herbert Morse would go on to become a noted poet, author and educator.

Four months before Morse's wedding, on January 23, Isaac Van Cleef died at the age of 85.  His "sudden" death in the house, as reported by the New York Herald, hints of a heart attack or stroke.

Margaret remained here until about 1875.  The following year, 153 East 33rd Street was occupied by Peter Maguire, an "inspector;" printer Daniel A. Nolan; Mary Van Buskirk; and the Pierce family.  William H. Pierce did not list a profession, suggesting he was retired, and Elizabeth Pierce was a physician, as was Mary Van Buskirk.  (The two women most likely worked together).

Dr. Van Buskirk placed an understated advertisement in the New York Herald on September 13, 1877:  "Dr. Mary Van Buskirk, 153 East 33d st., between Lexington and 3d ave."  Her advertisement three months later on January 7 in The New York Telegram was more specific:  "Dr. Mary Van Buskirk treats female complaints scientifically.  153 East 33d st, between Lexington and third avs."  In fact, the "female complaints" she treated were unwanted pregnancies.

She narrowly escaped serious problems in the fall of 1870.  On September 19, Dr. Benjamin W. West, "Madame West," and Dr. Enoch Eastman were arrested and charged "with complicity in an attempt to commit an abortion on Maggie McLoon," as reported by The New York Times.  The 20-year-old woman had gone to a Dr. Eastman on July 8.  When his attempt to abort the fetus failed, according to McLoon, "he took her on August 18 to Mme. Van Buskirk, at No. 153 East Thirty-third-street, telling her that the Madame would relieve her, as she had the proper instruments."  While Maggie McLoon sat in Mary Van Buskirk's waiting room, another woman recommended that she go to Dr. West.  She left without consulting with Dr. Van Buskirk.

The house was purchased by George F. and Augusta W. Keim in 1879.  Keim listed his profession as "flowers."  He could have been either a florist or a dealer in artificial flowers, used as trimmings for women's millinery.  In 1888, the couple hired architect William B. Tuthill to do "interior alterations," and the following year commissioned contractor P. F. Loonam to erect a one-story addition to the rear.  

Augusta Keim's estate sold 153 East 33rd Street in May 1897 to Robert H. Roesel and his wife, the former Katharine Lichtenberger, for $12,250 (about $478,000 today).  Roesel was the principal in Roesel & Sons, upholsters and makers of furniture covers.  Robert's sons, Edward R. and Henry C. Roesel were partners.  The Roesels had two daughters, Elsie Caroline and Margaret.

Edward and his wife, the former Elizabeth Anacker, lived here with his parents.  He died on July 4, 1917 and his funeral was held in the parlor four days later.

The Roesels took in roomers, apparently just one at a time.  Their tenant in 1917, Gus Politaker, quickly disappeared when America entered World War I.  Four years later, he was still listed on the Government's list of draft evaders, noting that he was also known as Gus Polelakees and Gus Politakes.

Their roomer in 1922, 42-year-old Edward McGann, also found himself on the wrong side of the law.  He worked as a waiter in a First Avenue restaurant.  On December 14 he faced Magistrate Joseph E. Corrigan in Yorkville Court after serving a drink to an undercover Prohibition agent.  A search found a quart bottle of whiskey and McGann was charged with illegal possession of liquor.

Prohibition also affected Joseph Crowley, who roomed with the Roesels in 1928.  On October 10, The New York Times reported that the 43-year-old "was found with a broken nose and suffering from alcoholism at East Tenth Street and Third Avenue."

The Roesels made renovations to 153 East 33rd Street in 1938.  It was possibly during these modifications that the cornice was removed, and the elliptically arched upper windows changed to flat-headed openings and their 1850s lintels shaved off.

As early as 1941, the Roesels had modernized the facade.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

After their family had owned the building more than half a century, Henry C. Roesel and his sister, Elsie, sold 153 East 33rd Street in November 1950 to the Armenian Missionary Society of America, Inc.  The New York Times reported, "The buyer plans to use the property for a parish house for the Armenian Evangelical Church at 136 East Thirty-fourth Street."

photographs by Anthony Bellov

In 1952, the ground floor was converted to a commercial space with a separate entrance.  It was given a coating of stucco and the doors received Spanish-influenced iron grills.  In the early 1970s the ground floor space was home to the Mexican restaurant Chili Charlie's, followed by Mimosa around 1976.  Today a Thai restaurant occupies the space.

Sadly abused, the structure's brick facade has been painted and its windows replaced.  Little remains of the Italianate design created by a resourceful architect around 1854. 

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The "Mercy House" - 320 East 3rd Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

Around 1855, a row of three-story-and-basement homes were erected on the south side of East Third Street between Avenues C and D.  Faced in running bond red brick, they straddled the line between the Greek Revival and Italianate styles.

By the late 1850s, the house was home to E. L. Rosemon, head of E. L. Rosemon & Son, a carpentry firm.  He was, as well, the chairman of the Journeymen Carpenters' Cooperative Association.  The organization was a sort of early labor union.  On April 15, 1859, he headed a meeting that resolved, "to demand $1.88 per day wages from the present time," according to the New-York Tribune.  (The figure would translate to just under $75 in 2025.)

Rosemon's concern with the welfare of workers went beyond carpenters.  He was, as well, the chairman of the Early Closing Association, which pushed for the shortened work day of dry goods clerks.  And in August 1869, he was part of a committee that pushed for fair pay for coal miners.

Also living in the house were the Rosemons' daughter, Elizabeth, and her husband Captain Elbert F. Bishop.  The young mariner survived a hurricane in the Bahamas aboard the William A. Ellis on October 3, 1866.  The following day, a son named Elbert F. Jr. was born in the East 3rd Street house.  Tragically, the boy died on April 22, 1871.  His funeral was held "from the residence of his grandfather, E. L. Rosemon, No. 320 East Third street," as announced in the New York Herald, on April 23.

Shortly afterward, the Rosemon family moved to 330 East 4th Street.  No. 320 and 318 East 3rd Street were purchased by John Schappert, who operated them as rooming houses.  He advertised in September 19, 1875, "Floors and apartments to let--In private houses No. 318 and 320 East Third street, between avenues C and D."

A renovation around this time placed molded lintels over the openings and installed an up-to-date terminal cornice.

The house's original appearance can be seen at the left.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Among the residents in 1877 were Joseph Sacidle, a dairy merchant, and his wife.  Since 1853, New York State authorities had battled the practice of "adulterated milk."  Dealers were found diluting their milk with water, then adding flour, molasses or even plaster of paris to restore its consistency.  On April 10, 1877, the New-York Tribune reported that Joseph Sacidle "was caught a second time watering his milk."

Resident Edward L. Schaffer garnered more positive press a decade later.  On Saturday night, June 1, 1889, he saw a burglar in Adolph Metzner's shoe store at 374 East Houston Street.  Schaffer ran to find a policeman.  When they returned, "the burglar was caught leaving the place with a bag full of shoes."  Max Miller, who was 23 years old, was arrested and Edward Schaffer's vigilance saved Metzner a significant loss of stock.

Real estate dealer Hayman Wallach purchased 320 East 3rd Street from Mary E. Fitts in 1906.  Wallach bought and sold numerous properties in the neighborhood.  He converted this 19-foot-wide house into a two-family residence and moved his family into one of the apartments.

Son David apparently did not care to join his father's business.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on March 7, 1908, read: "Boy, 17, high school education, [seeks] position with opportunities.  David Wallach, 320 East 3d st."

Mary E. Fitts foreclosed on the property in 1917.  It was still a two-family home when she sold it to Leonard Weill in September 1922.  

Living here in 1929 was Samuel Fankel.  The 21-year-old and a cohort, 19-year-old Edward Mandell, held up Dr. Charles Goldfarb in February that year, robbing him of $10.  Unfortunately for them, they celebrated their ill-gained windfall in a speakeasy at 119 Cannon Street, "termed by the detectives, 'The Den of the Forty Thieves,'" as reported by The New York Times.  The place was raided on February 7 and among the eight men and two teenaged girls who were arrested were Fankel and Mandell.  At the stationhouse, Fankel confessed to the Goldfarb hold-up.

Also renting a room here that year was Mary Cullen, who placed a heart-rending notice in The New York Times on October 24, 1929:  "Bernard Cullen--Any one possessing information concerning Bernard Cullen, formerly of 207 West 4th St., New York City, whether alive or dead, please communicate with Mary Cullen, wife, of 320 East 3d St., New York City."

The house was lost in foreclosure again in 1945.  In 1967, the tenants revolted against their landlord.  They joined the Lillian Wald Tenants Association and withheld their rent alleging that he "failed to maintain safe premises."

The following year the house was converted to the offices of Mobilization for Youth.  The law group offered legal services to clients who could not pay for representation, and operated a "legal van on wheels," as described by The New York Times on November 10, 1968.  The group helped tenants with relocation problems and rent laws, and assisted community groups in negotiating with government agencies.  

photograph by Carole Teller

The building was sold in foreclosure in 1990.  It became home to the non-for-profit corporation the Orthodox Christian Brotherhood Of Our Lady Of Mercy, Inc.  The charitable organization continues here, best known as Mercy House.

many thanks to Carole Teller for suggesting this post.

Latona Hall - 851 West End Avenue

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

At the turn of last century, the mansions that lined West End Avenue were being rapidly demolished and replaced with apartment buildings.  While most developers accumulated several properties to accommodate their projects, in 1904 James H. Havens settled for just one plot--at 851 West End Avenue between 101st and 102nd Streets.  He hired the architectural firm of Neville & Bagge to design a six-story apartment building on the site.  

Completed in January 1905, the architects' Colonial Revival design was faced in beige Roman brick above a limestone base.  The double-doored entrance sat above a short stoop.  On either side were fluted pilasters that upheld an entablature that boldly announced "Latona Hall."  The scrolled design of the charming wrought iron railings on either side of the porch were reflected in the handsome, hand-wrought fire escapes above.  Splayed limestone lintels decorated the windows of the second through fifth floors.  Neville & Bagge strayed from the Colonial motif with the fussy, French-inspired terminal cornice.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

An advertisement for Latona Hall in the New York Herald on January 25, 1905 said, "Leases are now being made for these attractive five room and bath Apartments; private phone and hall service."  (Hall service referred to the uniformed hall boys on hand to help with packages, deliver mail, and execute other errands.)  Rents ranged from $38 to $43--the most expensive translating to $1,580 per month in 2025.

Among the initial residents were George Gallagher and his wife.  On the afternoon of March 18, 1905, Mrs. Gallagher left to see the matinee of The College Widow at the Garden Theatre.  On her way there, she visited a friend, who gave her a Maltese cat as a gift.  The Sun reported, "Rather than make another trip to the friend's house she took the cat to the matinee and had it checked at the cloakroom."  The attendant put the cat in a box, cutting slits on the side so it could breathe.  The Sun said flatly, "The cat didn't like it."

Following the play, Mrs. Gallagher attempted to claim her cat.  The article said, "the cover was off the box and the cat was gone."  On March 23, Mrs. Gallagher demanded the price of the lost feline.  "She says the cat is valuable," said The Sun, which continued, "If the cat doesn't come back she demands its cash value."  The reporter ended the story saying, "The cat has not come back."

Other white collar residents at the time were B. Sterling Bottome, who worked as a court stenographer; dentist Walter B. Douglas; and Mrs. Elmer Hassan, who operated a "girl's nature camp" in New Hampshire during the summer months.

The St. Nicholas Magazine, December 1907 (copyright expired)

The very respectable Dr. Walter B. Douglas was the subject of awkward press coverage in the summer of 1907.  Like hundreds of Manhattanites, on June 13, he went to Coney Island to enjoy a day at the beach.  That evening, he was dining in Feltman's restaurant on Surf Avenue when something went very wrong.  The next morning The New York Times reported that he and the head waiter of Feltman's were "both prisoners."

According to Dr. Douglas, William Kennedy "struck him."  The waiter was arrested and charged with felonious assault.  The dentist, too, was arrested, charged with disorderly conduct.  The New York Times reporter was somewhat perplexed, saying that while Kennedy, who had been charged with a felony, "was allowed to remain out of a cell."  On the other hand, "The dentist, who says the waiter struck him, and against whom was made only the charge of disorderly conduct, was locked up."

William H. and Cecilia Gilmore were married in London, England, on July 25, 1903.  Their daughter, Ruth, was born on October 19, 1906, and in 1908 the family moved to New York City and into Latona Hall.  Three years later, the Gilmores' domestic bliss crumbled.  According to Cecilia, at the beginning of 1911 William started treating her "in a cruel and inhuman manner."  On July 25, she asked him what had made him change, and he replied, "that he was tired of living with her and wanted her to give him a divorce, and that she would be 'bloody mean' if she did not."

When Cecilia asked why he wanted a divorce he would not respond, saying only "that if she did not hold her 'rotten jaw' he would hit her with the heaviest thing he could lay his hands on."  According to Cecilia, little Ruth, who was now five years old, cried, "You must not talk that way to mama."

Finally, on August 11, 1911, William told Cecilia that he was having an affair and that if she did not divorce him, "he was going to make a scandal by living under the same roof" with his mistress.  Cecilia responded by fainting "for the first time of her life," according to court papers.

The divorce was granted.  William was directed to pay Cecilia a token of $1.00 a year alimony, and $720 each year in child support.

Actress Nellie Morgan lived here at the time.  The Evening World explained that she "is employed by a moving picture concern as an actress in the film plays."  On December 14, 1912, she was on a crowded subway car that pulled into the Time Square Station.  Also in the car was undercover Detective Finn, who witnessed a man open her handbag and take out a small purse.  As passengers filed out of the car, Finn pursued the pickpocket, telling the conductor to hold the train.

When Finn caught up with the man, he was still holding Nellie Morgan's pocketbook.  "The detective brought his prisoner back to the train and found the woman," said The New York Times.  Nellie identified her pocketbook, which contained two diamond rings valued at $300.  As Finn started away with his prisoner, the man fell to his knees and "pleaded with Miss Morgan and the detective to let him go."

Nellie told Finn, "This is Christmas time, and I am willing to be lenient if you are."

Less sympathetic were the other passengers, whose train had been held up for nearly 20 minutes, already.  "The crowd insisted that the woman press the charge against the prisoner," said the newspaper.  When Finn refused to release the man, "Miss Morgan became hysterical and then fainted."  Happily for her (and the impatient passengers) there was a doctor in the car who revived her.  In the meantime, "Finn took the pocketbook, the rings, and the prisoner to the West Forty-seventh Street Station, where he was locked up, charged with grand larceny."

Two months later, Nellie Morgan was in court as a witness in Charles Winters's hearing.  On February 11, 1913, The Evening World said she, "seemed in a very sympathetic and forgiving mood and even temporized to the extent of saying she was not sure Winters had opened her handbag."  Her unusual compassion led Judge Swann to question her.  She admitted that Winter's mother, sister "and other relatives had visited her in her home at No. 851 West End avenue, and had begged her not to testify against the young man," said The Evening World.  Despite Nellie Morgan's protests, the detective's testimony convicted the purse snatcher.

Latona Hall continued to attract middle class, professional tenants.  Living here in 1925 were newlyweds Sherman and Dorothy Anne Skinker Hooker.  Dorothy graduated from Barnard College in 1915 and worked as a high school teacher.  In 1926, a Dr. Raboniwitsch moved into the building.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

Much less respectable were Harold Worthington Doman and Louis Zeno, who shared an apartment here.  In 1923, Vivian Gordon was arrested for prostitution by vice officer Andrew B. McLaughlin.  Years later, McLaughlin was investigated for corruption and was accused of "framing" Vivian Gordon.  His trial was scheduled for March 5, 1931.  Vivian Gordon would not appear in the courtroom.  Eight days before the trial, her brutalized body was discovered dumped in Van Cortland Park.

A search of her apartment discovered Vivian's diary, which revealed her involvement with gamblers, gangsters and prostitutes, prompting the New York Mirror to call her the "queen of the underworld."  The contents quickly turned attention to the Doman-Zeno apartment at 851 West End Avenue.  

The New York Sun reported on March 4, 1931, "Doman and Zeno were picked up late yesterday after an all-day search for the former...This address and the occupants were mentioned frequently in the diary."  The Albany Evening News reported that the pair "admitted they had lived at 851 West End avenue, an address described in the diary as 'a terrible place.'"

An entry on February 28, 1931 told of Vivian's visit to a girl's apartment in the Palace Hotel.  "I was nearly killed.  Went down fire escape to escape more," she said.  "I went to 851 West End.  Zeno [arrived] about 10:15 Saturday a.m.  Doctor came.  Ye gods, concussion of brain, two broken ribs, bruises from head to foot.  851 West End terrible place."  Although Doman and Zeno were held for questioning, they were not arrested.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The following year, Latona Hall appeared in the news for another underworld-related incident.  On February 13, 1932, The Yonkers Statesman reported on a gang slaying in Riverdale.  A suspicious car had previously been seen where the body was found, "on the cliff overlooking the Spuyten Duyvil Station of the New York Central," said the article.  "Police said the machine, which is owned by Joseph Gsainsky of 851 West End Avenue, might have been used in the shooting of a detective downtown."

The Georgiaes family lived here around mid-century.  Helen Georgiaes was 17 years old in 1957, when she met 22-year-old John Antonacci.  He telephoned her in January and sweet talked her into living with him.  The Long Island Star Journal said he lured her "from her home on a promise he would marry her when she became 18."  Helen met Antonacci in front of a Jackson Heights theater.  "They rented a room in Woodside and remained there for 21 days," said the article.

Back at Latona Hall, Helen's father, Sonofronios Georgiaes, "took a dim view of the proceeding and ordered Antonacci...arrested on abduction charges."  The lothario was arraigned on February 24.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

Latona Hall is little changed after 120 years.  Even its graceful, hand-wrought stoop railings have survived intact.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The Lost Hudson River Yacht Club - Riverside Drive and 92nd Street

The enclosed portion of the lower veranda was possibly part of renovations in 1902.  Note the skylight that lit the staircase inside.   photograph by P. L. Sperr, from the collection of the New York Public Library

Two of the most popular summer activities for wealthy Manhattan men were the breeding of thoroughbred horses and yachting.  Multiple yachting clubs were formed in the 19th century, not only at summer resorts like Long Island and Newport, but in Manhattan.  In 1873 the Hudson River Yacht Club was formed.  Its two-story clubhouse was erected on the shore of the Hudson River at 74th Street.  A wooden piazza provided both refreshing river breezes and a vantage point from which to watch the club's annual regattas.

On May 31, 1890, The City Record reported that the Department of Docks had granted the Hudson River Yacht Club "permission to remove their club-house from the foot of West Seventy-fourth street, and locate the same at the foot of West Ninety-second street."  (The request for the move was necessary because the Department of Docks owned all the shoreline and structures like the yacht club sat on rented property.)  The clubhouse was raised and relocated nearly 20 blocks to the north.

Although the clubhouse was not yet ready to open, the annual Hudson River Yacht Club Ladies' Day and Parade went on in 1891.  On August 8, the New-York Tribune reported, "Twenty-one sloops, steam yachts and catboats, comprising about three-fourths of the fleet of the Hudson River Yacht Club, started up the Hudson yesterday morning at 11 o'clock."  The fleet stopped at 1:00 for lunch at Powder Dock, "after which the young men and women danced for about an hour," before returning to the clubhouse.

The relocation, of course, also necessitated a new boathouse and piers.  Approval for that construction was given in October 1892.  Additionally, a large deck upon which yachts could be repaired was constructed.  It cost $1,000 (equal to about $35,600 in 2025).  

Finally, on May 9, 1893, The New York Times reported, "The clubhouse of the Hudson River Yacht Club, at the foot of West Ninety-second Street, is now open for the season," noting, "The clubhouse is very prettily situated."  The New-York Tribune added, "Over $1,500 was spent last fall in improving the club's headquarters in many ways, one of the most important of which was the addition of a new marine railway."

On the ground floor, said The Times, was a "large storeroom for spars and sails.  It is fitted with lockers, in which the members keep their yachting clothes and small articles used on their yachts."  On the northern end of the building was a "good-sized cafe," and on the second floor was a "large parlor, furnished very cozily with chairs, tables, and a piano."  

The development of Riverside Park, begun in 1872, was inching up this far north at the time.  On May 9, 1894, the Department of Parks granted a request from the Hudson River Yacht Club, "that an opening be left in the wall on Riverside Park opposite Ninety-second street to afford access to their premises."

High tide surrounds the clubhouse in this photo.  Behind can be seen the steep wooden staircase from Riverside Drive.  New-York Tribune, October 14, 1900 (copyright expired)

Opening the season each year involved pageantry.  On May 31, 1896, The Journal reported that the "handsome house of the Riverside Yacht Club presented a gala appearance" for the occasion.  "The gun from Commodore Diefenthaler's flagship announcing the entry of the club into commission for the season was responded to by more than fifty pleasure vessels, which swung at their moorings.  The entire bay, as well as the clubhouse, presented a kaleidoscopic view of multi-colored flags."  A stringed orchestra played music throughout the afternoon.

The Hudson River Yacht Club was unique in that it operated a "training ship."  Inexperienced young men were trained in sailing by a veteran member.  On May 5, 1896, The Journal mentioned, "nearly all of the middle-aged members have received their first tuition on this remarkable vessel."

During the winter of 1902, architect Louis C. Mauer filed plans "for the alteration of the frame house of the Hudson River Yacht Club."  The "interior and exterior alterations" most likely included the enclosing of the southern portion of the lower piazza.

On June 14, 1902, members and their families gathered here and "danced and feasted," according to the New-York Tribune.  "A number of the children of the members stole from the clubhouse, and wended their way to a float," said the article.  At the time, several of the members were seated on the second floor of the piazza, including Commodore Dr. Frank J. McLaren.  Suddenly, the cry of "Boy overboard!" was heard.

McLaren did not pause to remove any of his clothing, plunging into the river and swimming to the drowning boy.  "He caught hold of him as he was sinking, and with a few dextrous [sic] strokes managed to reach the float with the unconscious boy," said the New-York Tribune.  It was only then that McLaren realized that the boy was his own six-year-old son Frank.  He was carried into the clubhouse where a physician, "who was hastily called," revived him.

Saying that the Hudson River Yacht Club "has been a prosperous and growing organization from the start," on July 10, 1904 The Motor Boat noted, "every convenience is provided both for boating and social club life."  The article mentioned that its members had kept up with the times, embracing changing trends.  "When the power boat became an established adjunct to yachting, the Hudson River Yacht Club was one of the first to take it up."

Among the members who embraced motor boating was August Kratenger.  On October 21, 1917, he took his wife and their 9-month-old baby on "a long ride up the Hudson," as reported by The New York Times.  They were returning back to the clubhouse when the motor stopped at around 117th Street.  Kratenger was standing over the engine attempting to repair it when a heavy swell rocked the boat and knocked him into the water.  Aware that he could not swim, his wife frantically attempted to throw a rope to him, while the current took the boat farther away.  "Finally he went down," said the article.

Mrs. Kratenger screamed for help as the current continued to take the disabled craft down river.  Finally, at around 96th Street, the captain of a coal barge yard heard her and rescued the mother and baby.  August Kratenger's body was never found.

When P. L. Sperr took this photograph on April 29, 1934, the fate of the clubhouse was already sealed.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The first threats to the Hudson River Yacht Club's clubhouse came in the summer of 1928.  On August 31, The New York Times reported on the "long-sought beautification" of the river's shoreline.  The article said, "the plan of beautification would require filling in front of the Hudson River Yacht Club at Ninety-second Street."  

After what Park Commissioner Robert Moses accused the club officials of "stalling," on April 19, 1934 he issued an eviction notice--giving the club two weeks to leave.  The New York Times said he warned if, "your property is not removed by [May 1], it will be treated as abandoned property."  The club's commodore, Dr. John A. Harris, complained, "This order is brutal.  There is no justification for it.  We haven't had time to consider what we shall do."

Moses was unrelenting, telling reporters that the club had "no lease, no permit, no anything" and "was in no position to make any conditions or try to dictate to him," reported The Times.

Expectedly, the club overstayed the May 1 order.  On June 28, 1934, The New York Times reported that "flames of undetermined origin destroyed the Hudson River Yacht Club."  The fire left "only a charred skeleton for the wreckers," said the newspaper later.

The Hudson River Yacht Club, now one of the oldest operating yacht clubs in United States, operates today from the foot of Avenue U and Bergen Avenue in Brooklyn.