Jobst Hoffman's 1880 29 East 7th Street

 

German-born architect Jobst Hoffmann filed plans for a "five-story brick apartment house" at 29 East 7th Street in February 1880 for developer Isaak Horchster.  Hoffmann's plans projected the cost of construction at $11,000, or about $357.000 in 2026 terms.  Seven months later, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide's "Watch The Records" column noted that liens had been filed against the owners of 25 and 27 East 7th Street.  The new owner of that property, Z. H. Miller, hired Hoffman to design two apartment buildings that would exactly match 29 East 7th Street, already under construction.

Hoffman's design was a blended of Queen Anne and neo-Grec styles.  And he introduced a splash of the Esthetic style in the whimsical cast iron fencing and stoop railings, composed of stylized sunflowers.

The stylized sunflowers were echoed in the incised carving of the stone stoop newels.

The paired ground floor openings shared a lintel decorated with a small rosette.  The centered entrance was crowned with an earred cornice inspired by ancient Greece.  The four upper stories were clad in red brick and trimmed in sandstone.  Hooded lintels decorated the second and fourth floor openings and between the third and fourth, Hoffmann added colorful encaustic, quilt-like tiles.

Colorful Queen Anne tiles and a fanciful cast iron ornament (the left half of which has been lost) decorate the facade.

The brick piers of the top floor wore cast metal capitals decorated with bosses.  They upheld the corbels of the elaborate pressed metal cornice.

No. 29 East 7th Street was known as a "double flat," meaning there were two apartments per floor.  Among the initial tenants was Auguste Schelcher.  He was on his way with friends to the ball of the Société Culinaire Philanthropique on the evening of April 30, 1883, when his night of gaiety turned to horror.  The New York Times reported that the group "were in a pleasant mood."  As they passed 404 Sixth Avenue, Désiré L. Houvet, a French chef and another member of the Société Culinaire Philanthropique, exited the building.  The New York Times reported:

Two or three were in a convivial condition, and they made jocose remarks when Houvet ran out...placing his hands on the shoulders of H. Barbier, of No. 49 West Twenty-seventh-street, and Auguste Schelcher, of No. 29 East Seventh-street, [and] sank to the pavement.  But their merriment changed to fear when they saw Houvet gasping and unable to speak.

The "elegantly dressed" Houvet had just been stabbed in the back by Elizabeth Quinquinet.  The New York Times would later explain, "Houvet, who was single, had led Mrs. Quinquinet astray and they had quarreled."  The 33-year-old Houvet died on the scene and, presumably, the evening that Auguste Schelcher's had looked forward to came to an end.

Josephine Frank, who lived here with her 10-year-old daughter in 1885, was in financial straits.  She was married to Lippman Frank on April 17, 1876, and "lived together for one year and a half.  Then they separated by mutual consent," according to the New-York Tribune.  In January 1886, she sued her husband for support, charging him with abandonment.

In court on January 19, Josephine presented a letter from the Commissioners of Charities and Correction, "stating that it was likely that she would become a burden on the taxpayers, unless her husband was compelled to support her," reported the New-York Tribune.  She, however, had to explain to the court what she had done with the money her husband had provided for.  When they separated, he gave her two houses on East 11th Street.  Josephine claimed that they were "in a bad condition and were torn down soon afterward."  She lost the properties in foreclosure.

Josephine had also neglected to mention that she and Lippman were not separated, they were divorced.  Lippman  Frank presented a decree of divorced dated 1878 and Justice Power, "said that Mrs. Frank's claims fell to the ground."  He told the disappointed woman that she could, however, initiate a new suit for the support of the child.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The Hessler family occupied an apartment here in 1896 when their 15-year-old son, Charles, became a hero of sorts.  At 2:00 on the afternoon of July 7, Charles was on the Bowery near Catharine Street.  He saw 68-year-old John M. Sweitzer, who  was inebriated and lived in Utica, staggering along the sidewalk.  Suddenly three men rushed up and robbed him of $40.  The New-York Tribune explained that Sweitzer, "was unable, owing to his condition, to furnish any description of the robbers." 

Young Hessler, however, was quite able to describe them.  He told police that two had boarded a Second Avenue street car and the other went away on foot.  The article said, "With the boy, Detective Cahill entered a corner saloon, and Hessler pointed out [John] Long as the man whom he had seen standing to one side while the robbery was committed."  Charles Hessler countered Long's testimony that he "knew nothing of the affair."  On the weight of teen's affidavit, Long was committed to the Tombs Prison for further investigation.

Pauline Zelba lived here in 1913.  She and two friends, Emma Stern and Celia partnered in running two cider stubes on East 4th and East 5th Streets.  (Cider stubes were taverns, patronized mostly by German Americans, that sold light food and cider made from fermented apples.)  The women were offering more than cider and sausages, as it turned out.  On April 16, 1913, the New-York Tribune reported that all three were arrested and "charged with keeping disorderly houses in cider stubes."  (A "disorderly house" was the polite term for a brothel.)

By 1924, the basement level of 29 East 7th Street had been converted to two commercial spaces.  Operating from one of them that year was George Withers Music Co.

Music Supervisors' Journal, December 1924 (copyright expired)

There are still just two apartments per floor in 29 East 7th Street.  Because Z. H. Miller wisely decided to have Hoffmann recreate his design at Nos. 25 and 27, the trio has an enhanced presence.

photographs by the author

Richard Williamson's 118 East 78th Street

 

The extension of the New York and Harlem Railway along Fourth Avenue (later Park Avenue) in the early 1830s sparked interest in the district.  East 78th Street was officially opened in 1860 and homes began appearing shortly afterward.  But construction ground nearly to a halt throughout the city when laborers were sent to fight in the South.  

The Civil War ended in April 1865 and one developer wasted no time in constructing of a row of upper-middle-class rowhouses along East 78th Street between Lexington and Fourth Avenue.  Historians agree that it was likely Richard Williamson who was responsible for the project.  

Three stories tall above rusticated basements, the houses were just 18-feet wide.  Their elliptically arched openings sat within attractive molded frames.  Williamson's builder forewent the fussy scrolled corbels and pediments seen above Italianate entrances of more costly homes, giving these a simple keystone.

The molded architraves of 118 East 78th Street would have matched these, which survived in examples farther east along the row in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Given the regular change in occupants, it appears that Williamson rented 118 East 78th Street.  Living here in 1870 was Deborah Plume, the widow of Isaac Plume, and her son, Joseph.  (Another son, Isaac H. Plume, was among those New Yorkers who had marched off to battle.  A member of the Seventh Regiment, he rose to the rank of first lieutenant and was killed in the Battle of Manassas on August 27.)  Deborah died here on July 23, 1870 at the age of 80.  Her funeral was held in the parlor three days later.

James S. Shell and wife, Mary J., moved in within months.  Schell was a saddler with Hoover, Calhoun & Co., "manufacturers and importers of fine saddlery and harness, wholesale and retail," as described by The Merchant's Directory.  

Schell, too, had served in the war, but his experience was much different from that of Isaac Plume.  James S. Schell was drafted into the Union Army on March 21, 1865.  Just over two weeks later, on April 9, Robert E. Lee surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant, effectively ending the war.  Schell was mustered out on July 11, 1865.  

Like most families who had extra rooms, the Schells took in boarders.  Their ad on December 22, 1875 read: 

A gentleman and wife, or family, can have elegant Rooms and Board very low with small private family; brown stone residence.  118 East Seventy-eighth street, near Madison avenue cars.

Answering that ad was attorney Wells Hendershott, who listed his address here through 1877.

Around 1878 William D. Lent and his family owned and occupied 118 East 78th Street.  Lent was a glass merchant with his business at 390 Broome Street.  He and his wife, Ella M., had three daughters Alice, Mary and Marietta.  

Marietta's wedding to William H. Starbuck in St. Bartholomew's Church on September 22, 1880 reflected the family's comfortable finances.  "The bride's dress was of brocaded silver satin, and the dresses of the bridesmaids of mull and satin," reported The Daily Graphic.  The article noted, "A reception followed at the house of the bride's parents, No. 118 East Seventy-eighth street."

It appears that living with William D. Lent could be taxing.  Decades later, he sued his daughter, Alice, who was now married, "to restrain her from disposing of the contents of a safe deposit box containing securities which he had given to her," reported the New York Herald.  He died on November 17, 1915 leaving an estate equal to $3.2 million in 2026 terms.  The New York Herald reported, "He gave nothing to his wife, Mrs. Ella M. Lent."

In the meantime, the Lent family had moved to 60 East 68th Street around 1886 and the East 78th Street house became home to the Herman Hirsch family.  It was either the Lents or the Hirsches who slightly updated the house around that time.  Modern, Esthetic-style ironwork at the stoop and areaway replaced the Italianate originals.  And French windows with a modified fanlight were installed in the parlor.

The new parlor window and one of the replaced newels can be seen at the left in this 1913 photograph. (The molded architraves are intact.)  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

Herman Hirsch listed his profession as "liquors," meaning he either ran saloons or liquor stores.  He had two locations, one at 1336 Third Avenue and the other at 75 Murray Street.  When the family moved into 118 East 78th Street, Lee Hirsch was attending the Free Academy of New York.

The residence continued to see a frequent turn-over of occupants.  The Beckwell family lived here in 1895 when William and James J. Beckwell added their names to hundreds of New Yorkers who petitioned the Board of Aldermen to construct a "bicycle path between the upper and lower parts of the city."

Around 1906, John H. Campbell and his wife purchased 118 East 78th Street.  Born in 1866, Campbell was described by the New-York Tribune as "prominent in New York politics during the reign of Richard Croker as Tammany Hall chieftain."  The distinction was not especially positive.  "Boss" Crocker's tenure was marked with corruption.  Campbell was initially Crocker's secretary, and when the latter became City Chamberlain in 1889 he made Campbell his deputy.  

John H. Campbell, from the collection of the Library of Congress.

In 1908, Campbell "left the city's service," as worded by the New-York Tribune, and took the position of treasurer of the Interborough Rapid Transit Company.  He would become, as well, the treasurer of the Subway Realty Company, the Rapid Transit Subway Construction Company, the Interborough Consolidated Corporation, and a director of the Merchants Refrigerating Company, the Metropolitan Securities Company, and "several ferry and transportation concerns," according to the New-York Tribune.

While Campbell was busy at work, his wife enjoyed the lifestyle of a well-to-do woman.  On August 24, 1913, the New-York Tribune reported, "Mrs. John Campbell, of No. 118 East 78th street, who is spending the summer at the Nassau Hotel, Long Beach, gave a shore dinner and dance to her Beach friends at the Casino, Long Beach, Tuesday evening, August 19."  The article noted that Nathan Frank and his wife were among the guests and "his orchestra of fifty pieces played on the porch during the dinner."

With his health failing in 1919, Campbell and his wife sold 118 East 78th Street to Dr. Royal Herman Willis and his wife, Jennie.  The Campbells moved to the Garden City Hotel in Garden City where John H. Campbell would die on April 5, 1922 at the age of 56.  

Herman was Jennie's second husband.  Born Jennie B. Murray in 1867, her first husband, Samuel Edward Vernon, died in 1914.  She and Vernon had two children, Vivian and Murray Vernon.  They were 25 and 21 years old respectively in 1919.

Vivian would not reside in the East 78th Street house.  The previous year, on May 11, 1918, she married Leo Nunes, "of Leghorn, Italy, in Grace Church," as reported by the New-York Tribune.

Murray Vernon would live here until 1923.  On June 9, 1923, The New York Times reported on his marriage to Marcella Verran at the bride's home at 270 Park Avenue.

At some point prior to 1940, the molded architraves were shaved flat, apparently in an effort to slightly modernize the facade.

The molding of the frames around the windows and doorway was flattened by 1940.  The shuttered windows and boarded entrance suggests interior renovation was going on.  The charming crescent moon cutouts in the shutters provided ventilation.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.  

Jennie B. Willis died on December 3, 1953 at the age of 86.  Dr. Royal Herman Willis would die in Brooklyn in 1961 at the age of 85.  

In the meantime, the East 78th Street house was converted to two duplex apartments in 1953.  The configuration remained until a renovation in 1971 returned the house to a single-family home.  

In 2007 Chelsea Atelier Architect, PC completed a gut renovation.  The firm's website says that the "facade was completely restored to its original brownstone...Some stone was replaced and everything was repainted."

photograph by the author

William E. Waring's 1881 106 West Houston Street

 

William E. Waring was perhaps best known for his tenement building designs.  In 1881, real estate investors Louis P. Dexheimer and Henry Thole hired him to design two tenement-and-store buildings at 104 and 106 West Houston Street at the northeast corner of Thompson Street.   Thole's building, No. 106, would be identical to that of Dexheimer.  Completed within the year, they were faced in brownstone and reflected an interesting mix of Italianate and neo-Grec styles.

The residential entrance to 106 West Houston Street was located around the corner at 164 Thompson Street.  Its handsome stone enframement included scrolled corbels that upheld a classical triangular pediment.  It and the segmentally arched windows were Italianate; however, the incised carvings of the lintels and the geometric lines of the cast metal cornice were purely neo-Grec.  To further confuse the architectural mix, Waring capped the cornices with Classical-style pediments topped with an anthemion, and flanked them with neo-Classical urns.

There were two apartments per floor in the building.  The store became home to H. Reiken's drugstore.  An advertisement he placed in the New York Herald on October 10, 1883 hinted at the neighborhood's demographics:

Drug Clerk (Junior)--That can speak French fluently and has had city experience may apply H. Reiken, 106 West Houston st.

In 1888, Leon Wernert graduated from the College of Pharmacy New York and took over the operation of the pharmacy.  He and Pietro Drureno established a symbiotic relationship when, on November 27 that year, Drureno received a permit to operate a newsstand on the sidewalk outside the drugstore.

Two of the urns on the shared cornice survived as late as 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Tom Turner lived at 64 South Fifth Avenue (today's LaGuardia Place) in 1889.  On the morning of March 27, he came into the drugstore and bought "forty grains of quinine," as reported by The Evening World.  It is unclear why Turner wanted the medication, which was mostly used to treat malaria.  In any case, said the article, he "took all of it on the spot.  It made him feel very sick and he had to be taken home and attended by a physician."  Presumably Turner survived the ordeal.

Among the residents in 1893 was James Hayden, described by the New York Herald as "a notorious pickpocket, who is also known as Funeral Wells."  Once a bookkeeper, the newspaper explained that now, "His picture is in the Rogues' Gallery and he has spent many years in prison."  Having a criminal past in the 19th century was reason enough to be arrested.  On October 9, 1893, Hayden and three other men were loitering around Sixth Avenue and 28th Street.  Detectives Sullivan and Lang noticed the "quartette of crooks," as described by the New York Herald.  "The crooks didn't do anything unlawful, so they were arrested as suspicious characters." said the article.  It continued, "They will be arraigned in Jefferson Market Police Court this morning."

Leon Wernert moved his business to Third Avenue.  The pharmacy here was taken over by Frederick Sutheim.  In the meantime, the residents continued to be middle class.  Living here in 1897 were the families of Gustav Grumbach, who ran a fur business on Clinton Place (today's West 8th Street); tailor Joseph Eremito; Peter Campora, who ran a florist shop steps away at 100 West Houston Street; Dominico Livellara, whose butcher shop was on Bleecker Street; and Caroline Buzze, a widow.

By the outbreak of World War I, Paul F. Gebicke ran the drugstore.  Born in Germany in 1854, he was vice-president and custodian of the mortuary fund of the German Apothecaries' Society of New York.  Although the neighborhood was greatly filled with Italian immigrants, the German druggist was "very popular" according to The Practical Druggist in December 1919.

Druggist Paul F. Gebicke, The Practical Druggist, December 1919 (copyright expired)

In the post-World War I years, the neighborhood saw increasing violence and crime.  Giuseppe Pepe lived here as early as 1920.  On January 20, 1921, The Evening World reported that he had been arrested for "peddling home made hootch to householders."

On the night of August 8, 1922, Alfred Form staggered into the drugstore and collapsed.  The 30-year-old tailor "had been stabbed in the abdomen and the left hand," reported the New York Herald.  The article said, "He became unconscious before he could be questioned and was in a serious condition when taken to St. Vincent's Hospital."  Detectives surmised that the stabbing was a result "of labor troubles in the clothing business."

The Valeati family occupied an apartment here in 1927.  On September 4 that year, 15-year-old Tony Valeati was watching a dice game in the rear yard of the building.  A quarrel broke out between two of the gamblers.  The New York Times reported, "A pistol was drawn and Tony was shot in the left shoulder."  Happily, the wound was not serious and he was treated at St. Vincent's Hospital.  The gamblers, not unexpectedly, had scattered.

Boys play in a stack of paving blocks as a limousine crosses West Houston street in 1932.  The excavation for the subway had been covered, but the pavement had not been repaired yet.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

After having been a pharmacy for decades, in the Prohibition years the store became a "pasticceria and gelateria," or pastry and gelato shop.  By the early 1960s, it was a cafe, La Casa Di Arturo, operated by Arthur Giunta.  (In 1964, he was refused a beer license because he had pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor in 1959 and because it was within 200 feet of a school, St. Anthony's School.)

The name La Casa Di Arturo eventually was honed down to Arturo's, a famous Greenwich Village spot for Italian food and pizza.  A blurb in Claudia Varrin's 2002 A Guide to New York's Fetish Underground described Arturo's fare, "Terrific brick-oven pizza, great mussels in wine sauce, live jazz on selected nights."

Arturo's has spread into the twin building next door.

More than half a century after Arthur Giunta opened his cafe, Arturo's remains a Greenwich Village destination.  William E. Waring's 1881 building has lost the urns that once decorated its cornice, but overall its appearance is little changed.

photographs by the author

The 1888 Edinboro - 203 West 103rd Street

 

Like the green patina'ed bands at the cornice and window pediment on 103rd, the black bays on Amsterdam Avenue were once clad in copper.  photo by Anthony Bellov

In August 1887, Edward L. Angell filed plans for a "six-story brick apartment house" at the northwest corner of 103rd Street and Tenth Avenue (renamed Amsterdam Avenue in 1890) for developer Charles A. Fuller.  Angell projected the construction costs at $65,000, or about $2.27 million in 2026.  

The neighborhood Fuller chose was known as Manhattan Valley.  On December 20, 1890, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted, "The first builder to erect a six-story flat in the neighborhood was Chas. A. Fuller."  Fuller dubbed his building the Edinboro.

Angell designed the structure in a blend of Queen Anne and Renaissance Revival styles.  His tripartite design was a study of mixed-media.  Faced in variegated beige brick, the Edinboro was trimmed in brownstone, sandstone, copper and terra cotta.  

On the avenue side were storefronts.  The residential entrance  at 203 West 103rd Street was uncompromisingly Renaissance Revival in style.  Sitting above a wide flight of steps, it was flanked by paneled pilasters capped with rows of anthemions.  They supported a heavy entablature elaborately carved with Renaissance inspired decorations.

The stonework has been painted and the entrance modernized with unsympathetic doors more expected in a public school building.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The 103rd Street elevation included a panel carved with a zig-zagging ribbon and surmounted by an arched, swag-filled pediment.  At the fifth floor were quilt-like panels of Queen Anne-style terra cotta tiles, and at the sixth a shield on a leafy background announced the construction date.  A large, ogee gable that rose from the sixth floor and interrupted the cornice was outlined with copper.

The Amsterdam Avenue side was distinguished by copper-clad bays.  Those on the third floor were fronted with blind balustrades and capped with Renaissance-style triangular pediments.  Angell designed the cornice as more of a parapet composed of a regimented table of brick-stepped corbels.

The ribbon design smacked of the letter M.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

Potential residents could choose from apartments of five, seven or eight rooms with a bath.  (There was a total of 26 apartments in the building.)  Tenants could patronize the restaurant in the building and rents were offered "with or without meals."  An advertisement boasted, "hot water, gas ranges, steam heat" and "uniformed service."  (The uniformed staff would have included the elevator operator and hall boys, available for doing errands like carrying packages, delivering mail and such.)  Rents ranged from $600 to $900 per year--about $2,000 to $3,000 a month today.

Among the residents in the 1890s were civil engineer Edward P. North, who was appointed Water Purveyor for the Department of Public Works in 1895; real estate broker John W. Stevens, who purchased his first Upper West Side property in 1854; and banker and stockbroker John W. Gilbough.

John W. Gilbough, King's Views of the New York Stock Exchange, 1898 (copyright expired)

Richard Spillane and his family lived in the Edinboro as early as 1903.  An editor, he and his wife had at least one daughter.  They worshiped at St. Agnes's Chapel on West 91st Street.  Robert J. Hudson was on the staff there.  The 53-year-old was described by The Evening World as "an evangelist and Bible class leader."  

In the spring of 1903, Spillane's daughter came home from Riverside Park with a horrific tale.  Robert Hudson routinely "gathered the little children around him and read them stories from the Bible," said The Evening World.  "He would then take liberties with the tots."  

Enraged, Spillane had Hudson arrested in April on charges of "accosting girls in Riverside Park and showing them indecent sketches."  Spillane also told other parents of the crimes.  On April 3, Hudson appeared in Magistrate Crane's private quarters.  Testifying against him were Richard Spillane and two other fathers, Dr. J. H. Prentice and R. C. Stannard.  Stannard had already made up his mind about Hudson's guilt, saying that if he "ever dared to show his face in the neighborhood again he would riddle him with bullets."

Hudson insisted he, "never did anything wrong in my life."  He told the magistrate, "I play ball with the boys and pat the girls on their heads."  When Magistrate Crane asked why he had been forced to leave Spencer, Massachusetts, Hudson explained that "Some malicious persons there said I was stealing hay."

Roger J. Hudson was tried in the Court of Special Sessions on April 14.  Richard Spillane was there to testify, as were four little girls ranging from eight to 12 years old.  Spillane said in part:

His character is bad for he told me himself he was driven from Spencer, Massachusetts.  He is the enemy of every child that frequents the Drive.  He told me he wouldn't blame me if I killed him.  The women wanted to hang him to a tree.

In his defense, Hudson insisted, "the most he was guilty of was a little indiscretion."  He pointed out, "All men are subject to indiscretions."  Justice Mayer did not agree.  He sentenced Hudson to eight months in the penitentiary.

Living in the Edinboro at the time of the scurrilous trial was professional whistler Alice J. Shaw, who, with three of her daughters, shared an apartment with her aunt, Harriet Goodhue.  Born Alice J. Horton in 1853, she divorced her husband, William Holland Shaw in 1888.  (Somewhat scandalously, on May 15, 1888 The New York Sun reported, "A report is in circulation that Mrs. Alice Shaw, the whistler, is to be married to the Hon. William F. Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill...Buffalo Bill, it may be added, is married.  Mrs. Shaw is, too, but is suing for a divorce.")

Alice was a celebrity.  Following her divorce she honed her talent of whistling.  By the time she and her daughters moved into the Edinboro, she had traveled the world, had performed for the Prince of Wales, and The Times-Union described her as being "well known throughout the country."

Alice J. Shaw, The Amusement Bulletin, October 19, 1889 (copyright expired)

Alice was sued by photographer Theodore C. Marceau for $143.09 in publicity photographs.  In  court on February 8, 1903, she was asked, "What are you?"  She answered, "I am an artist--a musical artist.  I am a professional whistler."

In the spring of 1907, another entertainer, actor Willard Hutchinson, moved into the Edinboro with his wife.  While the 29-year-old thespian was appearing in Toledo, Ohio in May that year, his valise was stolen.  Among the items inside were his new lease and business card.  The next week, sans valise, Hutchinson returned to New York.  In the meantime, the thief in Ohio was using his identity to pass bad checks.  On May 11, Hutchinson was arrested and jailed in The Tombs after Toledo police had sent a telegram with his information and a photograph.

In court the next morning, Hutchinson complained, "It's pretty hard luck for a fellow to be arrested and jailed because a crook swipes his suit case."  His "hard luck" worsened when he was told he would be held until the arrival of a Toledo detective "to see if he is the man wanted," reported the New York Herald on May 12.  Five days later, The New York Times reported that he had been dismissed, saying that the "picture and description of Hutchinson were not those of the man who had committed the fraud."

The Edinboro continued to attract upper-middle-class tenants, like civil engineer John Christian Ostrup and his wife, the former Mary Forbes Whyte, who were here as early as 1910.  Born in Denmark in 1864, he was educated at the Royal Cadet School in Copenhagen, received his Civil Engineering degree at the Polytechnic School in Copenhagen, and did post-graduate work at Chicago Engineering School.  In 1907 he was hired as Professor of Structural Engineering at the Stevens Institute of Technology in Hoboken.  He was, as well, a consulting engineer with offices at 17 Battery Place.

British Engineers and Allied Professions in the Twentieth Century 1910 (copyright expired)

Henry "Harry" Anderson was born in 1869.  He married Grace Irene Ryder in the Church of the Transfiguration on April 8, 1907.  An avid yachtsman, he became a member of the New York Athletic Club's yacht division in 1902 and later a member of the Larchmont Yacht Club.  

As a representative of the importing and exporting firm Roderick & Rumsey, Anderson traveled abroad regularly.  He was in London in March 1912 on business and booked passage home on the new luxury liner RMS Titanic.  Interestingly, while Grace did not accompany him on the trip, their dog did.  Somewhat surprisingly, Anderson was rescued by the RMS Carpathia following the Titanic's sinking.  (Unfortunately, his dog was not so lucky.)

Once aboard the Carpathia, Anderson attempted to telegram Grace, saying, "Safe aboard Carpathia.  Do not worry."  The wireless operator, however, was faced with a mountain of messages  and Andersons's was one of those that was not transmitted.  

Grace Anderson died at the age of 38 on June 9, 1915.  Harry Anderson was still living in the Edinboro as late as 1919.

In 1940 the copper bays on the Amsterdam Avenue side and the distinctive ogee gable on the side street were intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Stockbroker John L. Burness lived here in the early Depression years.  The bachelor maintained a country home in Sea Cliff, Long Island.  On Friday, June 21, 1935, he left 203 West 103rd Street to spend the weekend at the home of William Brown at Atlantic Beach, Long Island.  The men played golf at the Lido Country Club that afternoon.

The next morning, Brown went to his office in Rockville Centre.  Burness got up and, for some reason, went into the garage.  There, according to police, he got into an argument with a maid, 20-year-old Dorothea Kassady.  Later that morning, Burness's body was discovered in the garage.  "It was said death was due to carbon monoxide fumes," reported The New York Times.

But an autopsy revealed a blunt-force injury on the back of Burness's skull.  An investigation discovered that Dorothea Kassady quarreled with the 30-year-old "over money she said he owed her."  She hit him over the head with a hammer, then turned on the ignition of the Brown's automobile and closed the garage doors to stage his murder as carbon monoxide poisoning.

photo by Anthony Bellov

In 1948, 203 West 103rd Street was renovated.  There were now 42 apartments in the building--about twice as many as there were originally.  The tenants were still middle-class.  Among the residents in 1949 was Rafael Rio, a representative of the Puerto Rican Government.  Born in 1888, he relocated to New York City as a young man.  He held memberships to the Whitehall Club, the New York Athletic Club, the Pan-American Society and the Maritime Exchange.

Panels of terra cotta, Queen Anne-style tiles decorate the fifth floor.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1957, jazz saxophonist John William "Trane" Coltrane  and his wife, Naima, moved into an apartment here.  Naima (born Juanita Grubbs) was a Muslim convert and had a daughter, Antonia (later renamed Syeeda).  Coltrane later adopted her.

John William Coltrane, from the collection of the Library of Congress

Coltrane had been a part of Miles Davis's successful group, the First Great Quinet.  According to Ben Ratliff of The New York Times later, the group dissolved partly because of Coltrane's heroin addiction.  By the time he moved his family into 203 West 103rd Street, he had beaten his addiction.  In his Saxophone Colossus: The Life and Music of Sonny Rollins, Aiden Levy writes:

Coltrane invited [Freddie] Hubbard to practice with him at the apartment he shared with his wife, Naima, and his stepdaughter, Syeeda, at 203 West 103rd Street.  Coltrane was developing the "Coltrane changes" that culminated in "Giants Steps."

Hubbard later recalled, "I'd take the subway to Trane's house every day he was in town.  I had a headache when I left there because he was practicing so much."

The Coltranes left 203 West 103rd Street in 1959.  He is remembered today as one of the most influential figures in 20th century jazz music.

The top of the gable has been chopped off.  Happily, its copper outline survives.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

By the late 1970s, the striking ogee gable was decapitated.  Then, in 2017, plans were filed for "facade repair."  It was likely at this time that Edward L. Angell's distinctive copper bays were removed.  The changes greatly diluted what had been a highly unusual and attractive design.

many thanks to Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The Lost Alphonse L. Fachere House - 170 West 99th Street

 

The house was in pristine condition in 1932.  The door between it and the flat building to the right was once called a horsewalk--an access to the rear yard.  photograph by Charles Von Urban from the collection of the New York Public Library

In the first years of the 19th century, John Clendening's summer estate stretched from what would become 99th Street to 105th Street, and from Central Park West to Broadway.  On March 20, 1845, the estate was sold at auction at the Merchants' Exchange.  The New York Times would muse decades later, "Of course, in 1845 there was no Central Park.  It was eight years later before the city acquired the great acreage in the central part of Manhattan Island."  Nevertheless, said the newspaper in 1911, "one cannot help but marvel at the lack of confidence displayed by the moneyed men of the city in their apparent lack of confidence in the future" of the West Side.  

Some of the newly plotted lots were sold for only $9.50 each (about $417 in 2026 terms).  The Commercial Advertiser reported on March 20, 1845 that the plot that would later be numbered 107 West 99th Street had sold for $13.  

The Georgian-style Clendening mansion sat between today's Broadway and Amsterdam Avenue, and 102nd and 105th Streets.  D. T. Valentine's Manual, 1863 (copyright expired)

It would not be until the end of the Civil War that development in the district slowly started.  Around 1875, a three-story-and-basement frame house was constructed at what would be given the address of 170 West 99th Street.  Nearly a generation before the neighborhood's blocks would be lined with rows of high-stooped houses, this one was free-standing.  Its full-width porch above a short stoop reflected the personality of the still-rural district.  The porch columns, the corbelled cornice and the molded lintels were influenced by the Italianate style.  The third floor, however, took the form of a slate-shingled mansard pierced by two peaked dormers, a trademark of the fashionable French Second Empire style.

At the time, Alphonse Louis Fachere lived far to the south on West 35th Street.  Born in 1824, he was the owner of the marble business, A. L. Fachere & Co.  The firm had two locations--at 1319 Broadway and 237 West 32nd Street.  Around 1890, Fachere retired and moved into the picturesque wooden house.

Fachere and his wife had at least three children.  One adult child lived here, while two daughters were married.  One of them had married Thomas McNeill in 1890.  The New York World said McNeill, "is a coachman because he loves horses."  The young man was also fond of horse racing.  On September 8, 1893, the 30-year-old Thomas McNeil appeared in Harlem Police Court.  "Three complainants were ready to appear against him for stealing a coupe," reported The New York World.  

McNeill was the coachman of Moses R. Crow.  He sold Crow's coupe (a four-wheeled carriage) to Mooney & Connors, liverymen, for $268.  "Then he got the coupe back on the promise to return the money and sold it again to a physician," said the article.  Now Moses Crow, Mooney & Connors, and the physician all filed complaints against him.

McNeill sent a message to 170 West 99th Street for bail, but, as The World explained, "McNeill isn't admired by his wife's family."  McNeill told a reporter, "My father-in-law is a millionaire, but he is down on me."

And, indeed, when Fouchere was asked to comment, he told a reporter from The World, "McNeill is no good and I have had trouble enough with him.  He can go to the devil for all I care."

Fouchere's other son-in-law, A. A. Brunner disclosed, "He has helped McNeill, but grew tired of giving him money to gamble on the races...He has had every opportunity, but has thrown away his prospects."  Thomas McNeill was jailed for the theft.

The Foucheres had at least two servants--a cook and a maid.  The family was explicit in their advertisement seeking a new maid in November 1896:  "Wanted--A woman for general housework, between 35 and 50 years; three in family; French, Swiss or German.  Apply 170 West 99th st."

Alphonse Louis Fauchere died on July 7, 1897.  His funeral was held in the parlor of 170 West 99th Street two days later.

By the first years of the 20th century, John L. Garvey and his wife, the former Mary R. Bishop, occupied the house.  Garvey was a real estate operator.  He and Mary had at least one daughter, Regine.

Garvey's name appeared in newspapers routinely as he bought and sold real estate.  It appeared for a much different reason on October 1, 1912 when he sought to sell his pool table in The Evening Telegram.  "5x9 P & B billiard table, all complete, $35."

Mary Bishop Garvey died on Christmas Day, 1924.  Her funeral was held in the Church of the Holy Name on Amsterdam Avenue and 96th Street.  

Garvey leased 170 West 99th Street to Lorenzo Daniels and his wife, the former Elinor Louise Adee.  By now, the West 99th Street block was fully developed and the stand-alone wooden house was a charming anachronism.

Lorenzo Daniels was born in Hartford, Connecticut on March 21, 1862.  Elinor was his second wife.  His first, Edith Rexford, died on December 12, 1919, the year that Lorenzo retired.  He and Elinor were married in 1921.

Daniels had been one of the earliest members of the New York Produce Exchange, a co-owner of the Exchange Building, and a trustee of the Dry Dock Savings Institution.  The New York Times said, "Early in his career he moved to New York and entered the exporting and importing business...He developed the scope of his operations until they extended to nearly every quarter of the globe."

Elinor Daniels (who was known familiarly as Ellen), was highly involved in charity work and, according to The New York Times, was "one of the leading Eastern executives of the Red Cross.

Only months after the couple moved into 170 West 99th Street, Elinor Adee Daniels died on December 17, 1925.  Five days later, The New York Times reported on her funeral in St. Bartholomew's Church.  "Several hundred persons, including 100 representatives of the American Red Cross" were there, as well as delegations "from the many charitable organizations with which Mrs. Daniels had been associated."

Lorenzo Daniels moved to 853 Seventh Avenue, where he suffered a fatal stroke on October 14, 1930.  In the meantime, Regine Garvey had returned to 170 West 99th Street.  She was living here in December 1929 when she became a director of the newly incorporated Cloverleaf Creamery, Inc.  As early as 1937, however, the house was vacant and boarded up.

The house was boarded up in 1937.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Within a decade, the wooden relic was gone.  A short fieldstone wall and chain link fence was erected in front of the vacant lot.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 2007 the lot at 170 West 99th Street and all the properties between 97th to 100th Streets and Columbus to Amsterdam Avenues became the site of the Columbus Square development project.