Donnelly Brothers' Saloon - 597 Hudson Street (14 Abingdon Square)

 

In the early 19th century, the block-long stretch of Hudson Street between Bethune and West 12th Streets took the name of the little park it faced--Abingdon Square.  Like the others on the block, the upscale house at the corner of Bethune, 14 Abingdon Square, was four-stories tall and faced in brick.  By the end of the century, however, the affluent personality of the neighborhood had greatly changed.  In 1893 developer James W. Ketchum purchased the vintage residence, and replaced it with a store-and-apartment building.

Designed by architect Thomas E. Goodwin, the five-story structure was his somewhat commercial take on the Romanesque Revival style.  Faced in yellow brick and sparsely trimmed in brownstone, most of its ornamentation was executed in brick--the rustication of the second floor, the voussoirs and arched eyebrows of the third and fourth floor windows, and the striped effect of the fifth floor.  Somewhat surprisingly, Goodwin's configuration of the openings on the Abingdon Square elevation followed that of livery stables.

The four- or five-room apartments were marketed as "elegant" with "bath & all improvements."  Rent for a five-room corner apartment was $27, or about $775 per month by 2022 standards.  Perhaps confusing to visitors was that the building had three addresses--14 Abingdon Square, 597 Hudson Street, and (for the westerly store) 6 Bethune Street.

Kethum sold the building to Meyer I. Sire, who, in turn, leased it to Thomas and Michael Donnelly.  The Irish-born brothers opened Donnelly Bros. saloon in the corner space.  They lived in the building, as did their brother James (who would work as a bartender downstairs for years), and sisters Ellen and Catharine.

Senator John Raines had a problem with saloons like the Donnellys'.   In 1896 he wrote a new state liquor tax legislation, known as the Raines Law.  It increased the cost of liquor licenses, raised the legal drinking age from 16 to 18, and banned liquor sales on Sunday, except in hotels with at least 10 rooms and which served the drinks with a meal.  It sparked the nearly omnipresent "Free Lunch" signs that hung over saloon bars.

The Donnellys responded by deeming 14 Abingdon Square a hotel and providing sandwiches with drinks on Sundays.  At 9:00 p.m. on Sunday, July 26, 1896, a plain clothes policeman named Geraghty walked in and ordered a beer and sandwich.  As he lingered, he took note of the other patrons.  He would later swear he saw "people who were drinking in the place, without the formality of also ordering sandwiches," and that he overheard Thomas Donnelly "telling a friend how easy it was to beat the present law by simply serving a sandwich, whether ordered or not."

After about 20 minutes, Geraghty walked to the door, but returned to his seat and ordered a second beer.  When he was served without a sandwich, he arrested Thomas Donnelly.  In court two days later, Donnelly insisted that because Geraghty had not left the saloon, he could legally sell him a second beer with his initial sandwich.  The magistrate agreed; however he held Donnelly on $1,000 bail awaiting trial "on the sworn statement of the policeman that he saw drinks served without a sandwich, and also, that he heard the defendant explaining how he beat the law."

Despite such problems, the brothers' success was such that in 1899 Michael and Thomas Donnelly purchased the building.  As was common among saloon owners, they partnered with a brewery, agreeing to sell only that firm's beers and ales.  For years they did business only with the Bernheimer & Schwartz Brewery.

Among the Donnellys' upstairs tenants at the turn of the century was Augustave Duffy, who made his living as a clerk.  It seems he had the day off on Wednesday, June 24, 1903, because he traveled to Stimmel's Park, in Whitestone, Queens to play baseball.  His day of recreation did not end well.  The 25-year-old Duffy was pitching, when he "was struck under the chin by a ball and received a lacerated wound that required the attention of Dr. B. Folzer," according to The Brooklyn Daily Eagle.  It was a significant injury, the article noting, "He was taken home by friends."

In July 1915 Michael and Thomas Donnelly transferred the title of the building to their sisters, Ellen and Catharine.  (Interestingly, the liquor license for the saloon had been in Ellen's name since 1908.)  Two months later, on July 12, The New York Press reported that the women had sold the property to "the No. 14 Abingdon Square Company, a new concern."  

The following year, H. J. Goodwin, an electrical contractor, took the commercial space at 6 Bethune.  The Donnellys' saloon continued in the corner space for years.

Despite the onset of Prohibition on January 17, 1920, the Donnelly Brothers' saloon forged on, apparently still selling contraband beer.  Michael Nesil was tending bar on the night of November 30, 1922.  He was chatting with his two customers when three armed men walked in and announced a stick-up.  One walked out again and stood watch.  Nesil was held at gunpoint while the third crook went behind the bar, headed for the cash register.  Nesil picked up a beer bottle and smashed it over the thief's head, who cried out, "Let him have it!"

The gunman fired two shots, both of which entered Nesil's stomach.  As the bartender fell to the floor, the robber opened the cash register and took out the $30.  The two joined their accomplice outside where they were confronted by members of the V.F. W. Michael Lynch Post next door who had heard the shots.  One, Patrick Heney, grabbed the gunman, "but the bandit twisted the gun upward, jabbed it against Heney's stomach and pulled the trigger," reported the New York Herald.  Amazingly, this time the firearm jammed.  The crook managed to free himself and the trio ran down Bethune Street, making their escape in a waiting car on Greenwich Street.

Within minutes Patrolman Shaw arrived.  He sent for an ambulance for Michael Nesil, who was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital.  He died there shortly after midnight.

Seven months later, on June 17, 1923, Ed Sheeran was arrested, accused with five other men of assaulting and attempting to rob Thomas Drayton.  The Sun and The Globe reported, "Screams of nurse girls out with children of the neighborhood for the early morning air saved the life of Drayton."  Sheeran gave his name as John McGuiness, but his fingerprints proved his true identity.  They also linked him to the Nesil murder.

The Sun and The Globe reported, "he did not deny that he was in the saloon of Thomas Donnelly, 597 Hudson street, when the bartender Michael Naasel [sic] was killed.  Sheeran is the man alleged to have done the shooting."

The tenants of the building, for the most part, came and went without drawing attention.  That was not the case with Walter Forster and his wife Annetta, who lived here in the early Depression years.  On January 6, 1936 they were arrested with four others in what the Long Island Daily Press called "One of the biggest life insurance fraud rings ever uncovered--a ring which may even have dealt in murder."

Knowing that his brother, Frederick, was dying of cancer and that he had no communication with his estranged wife, Paul Bottiger conceived a scheme.  Using the name Ewald Rottiger, Walter Forster underwent physical examinations, and took out 30 life insurance policies on himself, totaling more than $1 million (nearly 20 times that much in today's money).  When Bottiger died, Paul had him cremated under the name of Ewald Rottiger.  

The scam fell apart when Clara Bottinger discovered her husband had died and tried to cash in the legitimate life insurance police.  The Long Island Daily Press said she "could not collect on it because her husband's name had been changed on the death certificate."

As it turned out, the scheme went even further.  The newspaper reported, "The Forsters, who were the first to be questioned by police, said...that there were 'many other dead men' upon whom policies had been taken."

In the 1960's the former Donnelly Brothers' saloon space became home to the Bus Stop Coffee Shop.  Like its predecessor, it would become a fixture on the corner, still there six decades later.

photograph by the author

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The Charles M. Oakley House - 19 Bethune Street

 

In 1836 a group of builders and carpenters partnered to erect a row of six speculative houses on Bethune Street between Greenwich and Washington Streets.  Completed the following year, the Greek Revival style homes were faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  The peaked roof and dormers of the slightly earlier Federal Style were replaced by a shallow attic level with squat windows peaking through the fascia board.

The owners of No. 7 (later renumbered 19) took in at least one boarder.  John C. Sterling, who lived in Jefferson County, New York, lived with the family in 1840 while he attended New York University.

The 22-foot wide house was sold at auction in February 1845.  The announcement described it as a "modern brick House" with "marble mantels, black [fireplace] grates, counter cellar--spring and rain water, pump on premises."  The mention of a private pump was an attractive convenience.  Many of the Greenwich Village residents relied on community pumps.

John Fernon moved into the house.   His profession was a "carman," or a driver of a delivery vehicle.  Carmen were often employed by railways for local deliveries.   Fernon and his family remained in the house for at least fifteen years, always taking in other carmen--normally two at a time--as boarders.

In 1863 No. 7 was home to Philip B. Marsh, who operated a hat store at No. 32 Duane Street, and his wife, Matilda L. Marsh.  The couple suffered heartbreak on February 14 that year when their infant son, Augustus, died.  His funeral was held in the parlor the following afternoon.

Charles M. Oakley, a carpenter, purchased No. 7 around 1867.  Like his predecessors, he took in a few boarder and that year policeman Charles W. Caffrey lived with the family.  He moved to Greenwich Street in 1869, and carpenter George Colver took his rooms.

Charles W. Caffrey had attained the rank of captain in the Police Department by 1872.  He was forced to appear before the Police Board for violating a General Order that year.  On Sunday, June 23, he and several other captains had allowed "processions to form and march with music through their precincts, to take part in a church dedication."

In the meantime, the Hubbs family were living with the Oakleys.  Isaac G. Hubbs listed his profession as "agent," and Edwin A. Hubbs was a director of the Institute of Reward for Orphans and Patriots.  Isaac died two days after Christmas in 1872, at the age of 60.  

The Oakleys continued to have a turnover of boarders, like Emma J. Hirst, who taught in Primary School No. 24 on Horatio Street.  She boarded for at least two years, between 1874 and 1876.  Then, in 1878, Charles W. Caffrey and his family returned.

By now Caffrey's son, Warren, was old enough to have his own profession as a clerk.  The family would remain with the Oakley's for years.  

What appear to be stubby newels are in fact the base of cast iron gas lampposts.  A few other examples survive along the row, these having been given Italianate caps at some point in the 19th century.

Charles was earning $2,000 per year as a police captain in 1881, around $52,000 in today's money.  So when he and Officer Edward Moran were sued for $5,000 damages by George W. Lake in January that year, it was a serious issue.   Lake was an importer of Chinese and Japanese goods.  

The parties appeared in court on January 11, The Evening Post saying "A case peculiar in its nature was begun this morning before Judge Van Vorat."  It had all begun years earlier, on June 11, 1878.  Moran was called to a house on State Street "to prevent a young woman named Nettie Lake from committing suicide by jumping from a window," according to The New York Times.  After the crisis was over, Nettie identified Lake as her husband.

The newspaper reported "Lake was found by the Police, but he denied that he was Nettie's husband, refused to take care of her, and told the Police to 'let her jump.'"  The story became even more shocking when investigation revealed that Lake was not Nettie's husband, but her father, and that her two children were also fathered by him.  Lake was arrested, but in court Nettie refused to testify against him and "both charges against him fell to the ground."

Now Lake sued for "false arrest and malicious prosecution," saying there was no reasonable cause.  The defense argued that "at the time of his arrest there were reasonable grounds for believing him guilty of the crime with which he was charged."  Lake's testimony during the four-day trial no doubt shocked the Victorian jury.  He said that Nettie was the illegitimate daughter of a Mrs. Gunnison, that he had taken her from her mother when she was 14 years old, and that he had posed as her father.  He also admitted to fathering one of her children.

The jury felt legally compelled to find Caffrey and Moran guilty.  They awarded Lake six cents in damages.

Charles W. Caffrey was forced to retire from the Police Department in June 1887 after 20 years service.  Department rules insisted that retirement was mandatory after the age of 60.

At the time Bethune Street ran from the Hudson River to Greenwich Street.  Charles Oakley was among the residents who signed a petition in February that year to have the street extended to Hudson Street.  The petition said in part "If extended to Hudson street, which as this point forms part of Abingdon Square, it will open into a large and commodious plaza and the means of ingress thereto and egress therefrom will be greatly enlarged."  The city agreed and the project was completed in 1892, giving the Oakley house the new address of No. 19.

After more than three decades in the house, Oakley sold it on November 24, 1897 to Joseph Haight, who paid $11,500.  The price would equal about $366,000 today.

The house changed hands again on August 7, 1901 when Haight transferred title to George H. Foster and his wife, Margaret L.  The couple remained until around 1913 when Annie Bremen purchased it.  Annie apparently had inherited money, because the income she received from her deceased husband's police pension ($300 per year) was the equivalent of just $6,000 today.  Her daughter, Florence M. Bremen, added to the household income when she took a position as a statistical clerk for the New York Supreme Court by 1924.

Actor and playwright Daniel Reed and his wife, publicity agent Isadora Bennett, lived briefly at No. 19 in the late 1920's. He published Goodbye in the Morning on September 23, 1930.

Geoffrey Pope was 24 years old in 1936 and a bookkeeper at Macfadden Publications, where he had worked for three years.  He and another bookkeeper there, Sheldon Taylor (who coincidentally was also 24 years old) talked about the excitement of adventure and the boredom of bookkeeping.  The two saved up $1,000 and, after four months of planning, resigned their jobs on April 21, 1936 and set off on an exploit.

On April 26 The New York Times reported "Paddles digging deep, two young adventurers pushed off in a seventeen-foot canoe from the foot of West Forty-second Street yesterday morning, bound for Nome, Alaska, by way in inland waters."  They shoved off at 10:20 that morning after the tide had turned.  Onlookers yelled "Give my regards to the Eskimos" and "See you in two years!"

By 1938 No. 19 was home to Frederick and Elsie Buchholz and their daughter, Dorothea Buchholz.  Frederick, known as Fred, was the secretary of the Society of Independent Artists, which used the house as its de facto headquarters.   It was most likely the Buchholzes who added the art studio on the roof.

Dorothea followed in the arts and by 1953 was an instructor at the Dance Education Center at No. 68 Fifth Avenue.  The family was listed in the Bethune Street house through 1959.

The tradition of the arts at No. 19 continued in the 1960's with the family of Harry Ulanov.  When the engagement of daughter Anne to Alfred M. Pietrasanta was announced in October 1965, The New York Times mentioned that she was "a granddaughter of the late Norman Bel Geddes, the designer and theatrical producer."

Original Greek Revival detailing like the beautifully veined mantel and woodwork survive in some rooms.  photo via trulia.com

Other than its long history of housing boarders, No. 19 was never altered into apartments.  While expected interior updating has been done, much of the 1837 Greek Revival detailing survives.

photographs by the author

The Cornelius H. Hedden House - 28 Bethune Street

The hefty entablature above the delicate doorway was added later in the 19th century.

In the early 1840's construction projects were underway up and down Bethune Street in Greenwich Village.  In 1844 developers began two side-by-side groups of three Greek Revival style houses each, among which was No. 28.  Like the other five, it was completed in 1845 and featured a brownstone-clad basement and stone stoop.  Three floors of orange brick were trimmed in brownstone.  Iron stoop railings gently encircled the thin newels, and matching fencing protected the areaway.

By at least 1861 Cornelius Howard Hedden and his wife, the former Martha Washington Pearse, occupied No. 28.  The couple had been married in 1852.  Hedden made his living as a clerk.  In July that year the couple had a son, Walter.  Tragically, just over three months later the infant's funeral was held in the house, on November 21.

The Heddens would have eleven more children--nine sons and two daughters--several of whom perished while still young.  On November 5, 1881, for instance, the New York Herald reported on the death of 20-year old Frank, "the second son," of the couple.  And on July 27, 1896 their youngest son, Harry, died at the age of 24.  All of the funerals were held in the parlor of the Bethune Street house.

Harry's older brother, Charles, had been a bookkeeper; but he made a decided career change that year, joining the New York City Police Department.  Charles invested in real estate, as well.  By the turn of the century he owned three houses on Bethune Street, Nos. 40, 42 and 44.

On January 6, 1902 Edward Harold Heddon and his wife, who lived on Madison Avenue, hosted a touching fiftieth anniversary party for his parents.  It started with a family dinner.  The surviving children--Edward, Florence, Charles, George and William--were there with their spouses and the six grandchildren.  Following dinner guests arrived, some from distant points.  They included two members of the wedding party ( the best man and a bridesmaid), and numerous wedding guests.

The New York Herald remarked that "Mr. and Mrs. Hedden, the former being in his seventy-fifth year and his wife in her seventieth year, enjoy perfect health.  Mr. Hedden in still in active business in this city."

Nevertheless, the home which they shared for nearly half a century was placed on the market the following year in April.  Cornelius would die in 1915 and Martha on June 5, 1917.

No. 28 was purchased by Joseph and Annie L. Mattison.  The couple worked out an arrangement with Daniel C. Green, who lived in Corona, Queens, in 1907.  According to The Evening World, Green, who was 55-years old, had inherited "a considerable estate on Long Island and in this city," upon the death of his brother.  Because settling the estate meant frequent trips into the city, he rented a room on the top floor from the Mattisons to lessen the commuting.

But on the morning of February 14, 1908 Green was found dead in his bed, the room filled with lighting gas.  The Evening World explained "His death was due to the common accident of turning off the gas and turning it on again inadvertently."

Following Joseph's death Annie Mattison sold No. 28 in April 1920 to Anastasia Addish.  Anastasia, who had come to New York from Ireland on the steamship Louisville in the 1890's, rented extra rooms in the house.

Two years before the purchase Anastasia had noticed two sailors on shore leave.  She approached them and said that she had a son in the military.  The sailors told her they were from the U.S.S. Louisville, which had been converted to a wartime transport vessel.  It was the same ship that had brought her to America.

Anastasia invited the sailors to dinner and to meet her sister, who accompanied her on the voyage.  They did and it was then that one of them, Chester Hadsell of Craig, Colorado, caught the eye of Anastasia's daughter, Jane.  Years later the Craig Empire wrote "the acquaintanceship of the New York girl and the Craig boy grew into friendship and then to love."

For over a year Jane and Chester would see one another when the Louisville arrived in New York to take more France-bound troops.  Then the Armistice came and the trips would necessarily come to an end.  According to the newspaper "On the way across the Atlantic Chet spent his time rehearsing the proposal he was going to make when he again reached 'the sidewalks of New York.'"  But the ship was redirected to Norfolk before reaching New York.  The men were then sent to Dallas for discharge.

The couple wrote back and forth for ten years.  In the meantime Jane acquired a job as secretary to the designing engineer of the City Water Department.  She received a phone call in October 1928 with a proposal of marriage.

Although Hadsell wanted to move Jane to Colorado, she was adamant that they live in New York City, since she was making far more money than he could immediately earn.  "I finally yielded to her wishes and reached New York on December 23rd, 1928," he later explained in an affidavit.

Anastasia's business sense outweighed her maternal obligations and she rented "the furnished front room on the second floor" of No. 28 Bethune Street to the newlyweds at $20 per week (about $293 today).  And Chester had a rocky start in the new city.

He gave Jane all his savings for the room and board and immediately began looking for a job.  It took ten days to find one, and that paid only $22 a week.   And the country boy was shocked at the lifestyle of his city wife.  He said "Her parents and other members of her immediate family, with their friends, liked to have parties downstairs; there was considerable drinking, and the language frequently used jarred me, for I do not drink nor use profane language."  

Jane sided with her family, who derided Chester for staying in their room while the gatherings took place.  On March 30, 1929, just three months after their marriage, the breaking point came when Chester told Jane he no longer wanted to remain in the house.

On the morning of April 2 Jane was no where to be found.  Anastasia walked into their room and told Chester "Get the hell out, both of you and stay out."  Chester did, but Jane did not.  Irate that he had caused a rift, she filed for divorce.

Albert Jennings was a roomer in the house on May 28, 1939 when he went on a fishing party on the Bilot, a 32-foot cabin cruiser.  He was a member of the social club the "Over Fire Boys," and the trip had been planned for weeks.  But not ten minutes after leaving the East 78th Street pier, the vessel overturned, plunging the 24 passengers and crew of four into the East River.  The tide at the time was "racing," according to newspapers.  

Nearby vessels rushed to rescue the victims.  The following morning The New York Times reported "One body was recovered and two men were still missing last night."  The dead man was 42-year old Albert Jennings.

No. 28 continued to be operated as a rooming house until 1956 when it was converted to one apartment on each floor.  A subsequent renovation in 1971 resulted in one apartment in the basement, one on the first floor, and a duplex above.  

photographs by the author

The 1842 Albert J. Hopper House - 41 Bethune Street

In 1842 builder Albert J. Hopper erected a three-story, brick faced home at No. 41 Bethune Street.  A secondary rear structure was almost always included in building projects like this one, variously used as a stable, a small house for rental, or a shop--like a blacksmith or carpentry shop.  It is unclear what the building behind No. 41 was initially used for, but it may have been connected with Hopper's building business.

Hopper and his wife, Eliza, had a son, Jeremiah.  It is unclear if the family ever lived in the Greek Revival style house and, if so, for how long.  In 1846 a dwelling was erected next door at No. 39.  Despite the four years between their construction, the two structures were near mirror images.   John Sigler used that rear building for his picture frame factory, which caught fire in 1853.

Not long afterward, Daniel Hoagland Carpenter bought No. 39 and established his "steam mills" for workworking in the rear.   It was probably at this time that he worked out an arrangement with the owner of No. 41 to extend the mill into his rear business.

Fire broke out in that building on June 29, 1867.  In its report, the New York Fire Department described it as a "4 story brick planing mill."

In 1871 M. Murphey ran the Bethune Moulding Mill in the rear buildings.  Real Estate Record & Guide, November 4, 1871 (copyright expired)

By the 1890's No. 41 was home to the Lynch family.  Lawrence and Margaret Lynch had two children, James and Mary.  They owned a country home in Westchester County.

Lawrence fell ill around 1896 and "after a long illness" died in the house on June 20, 1897 at the age of 58.  The family remained at No. 41.  Son James, who was 26-years-old at the time, took up an interesting career--court stenographer.  By 1900 he was earning $1,600 per year, or just under $50,000 today.  He was one of only five stenographers in the New York County court system.

Margaret died in 1900.  She left the Westchester property to Mary, who promptly arranged to sell it at auction.  James was not happy with the decision and on November 14, 1902 took her to court.  Presumably things were a bit tense within the Bethune Street house for a while.

Following Mary A. Lynch's marriage to James Carroll the population of No. 41 increased by two.  Not only did the newlyweds make their home here, but Carroll's widowed mother, Mary, moved in as well.   She died in 1911 and, as had been the case with Lawrence Lynch, her funeral was held in the house followed by services at St. Bernard's Church.

James E. Lynch received a significant pay raise in 1913.  The "Court of General Sessions of the Peace" resolved to increase his salary to $3,600, or nearly $95,000 a year today.

It was about this time that John Carroll died.  Mary no doubt said goodbye with trepidation when their son, Joseph Gerald, was shipped off to see action in Europe in World War I.  And, if so, her fears were realized on November 22, 1918 when the War Department released its casualty list.  Joseph had been killed in action at Landres et St. Georges, France on October 16.

A memorial service was held in St. Bernard's Church on February 22, 1919; but it would be some time before Joseph's remains would come home.  Finally, on August 30, 1921 his funeral was held in the Bethune Street house, followed by a service at St. Bernard's.

On October 30, 1921 a memorial statue, The Defender of the Flag, was unveiled in Abingdon Square.  The ceremony paid tribute to the boys who had given their lives for their country and to their mothers, as well.  The Evening Telegram ran the headline "This Is Gold Star Mothers' Day in Historic Abingdon Square."   A few days before the event a reporter interviewed Mary at No. 41.

"In the low-ceilinged old-time parlor of her little red-brick home, just off the river's edge, she spoke of the loss that had come to her and her pride in that loss," said the article.  She told him, "I am a widow, and my boy, Joseph Gerald, was very dear to me.  Whatever happens I will be at the ceremonies Sunday."

Not long afterward Mary moved to 130th Street and Broadway.  She died on July 1, 1924 and her funeral was held in St. Bernard's Church where her family had worshiped for decades.

Although erected several years apart, the side-by-side houses are near matches.

The Bethune Street house continued to be occupied by the Lynch family for years to come.  As late as 1940 Michael H. Lynch was listed at the address.

The Michael Lynch family lived in the house around 1941 when this photograph, showing the original doorway and charming areaway fencing, was taken.  from the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

In 1953 Len and Annette Lye purchased the house.  Leonard Charles Hula Lye was a sculptor and film maker, born in New Zealand in 1901.  Annette (known as Ann) was his second wife.  They were married on the same day he received a divorce from his first wife, Jane.

In the more than half century that the Lynch family had owned No. 41 it had fallen into some disrepair.  An article in the Newark News read "The old house at No. 41 would have frightened off one with less courage, tenacity and know-how than Ann Lye.  The stained marble staircase, the collapsed ceilings and the cobwebby walls would have sent a less capable lass fleeing."

While Len worked on his kinetic sculptures and experimental films, Ann threw herself into renovation.  She removed plaster to expose raw brick (the antithesis of Albert J. Hopper's early 19th century sensibilities), and resurrected the random-width pine floors from under layers of linoleum.

According to author Roger Horrocks in his Len Lye: A Biography, the couple made some startling changes, "such as covering a floor at Bethune Street in pigskin.  A special oak seat was made for the toilet, and friends were invited to a 'Bathroom Opening' celebration when it was installed."  An aluminum ceiling disguised the deteriorating condition of the original.  Lye painted murals on some of the walls.

Living briefly in the house with the Lyes was educator and writer Stanley Williams Moore who had taken a one-year sabbatical from Reed College to write in 1953.   Liberal-thinking types often found themselves the target of the Government at the time and on June 2, 1954 Moore found himself in Washington D.C. defending himself against questions by the Committee on Un-American Activities.

Len Lye created his sculptures and films from the Bethune Street house.  In 1956 The Saturday Review reported "of all the industries in need of a good public-relations film the public-relation industry's need is greatest.  Len Lye has organized a small production company called Direct Films at 41 Bethune Street."

In 1963 Ann spearheaded a project to create the first low-income housing cooperative for artists.  Four years later two brick buildings at 12th and Greenwich Streets were converted to studio and living quarters for twelve painters and sculptors.

In the meantime, Len Lye had used the house to create significant works.  It was here, according to The New York Times years later, that he "renewed an early interest in movable sculpture...He became a well-known figure in the international group of 'technological,' or kinetic sculptors" of the 1950's.  In 1961 the Museum of Modern staged a "recital" of his movable works, and in 1965 the Albright-Knox Gallery in Buffalo gave him a one-man show.

The Lyes left Bethune Street around 1975.  No. 41 next became home to Professor Carl Shulman.  He became concerned when the ambitious Westway project stalled.  The plan was meant to do away with the abandoned, rotting piers along the Hudson River, sink a six-lane highway below 220 acres of landfill and cover it with parkland, homes and businesses.  Shulman wrote a letter to the city on June 27, 1984 which said in part:

I would like to tell you how strongly my family and neighbors feel about this marvelous park-and-traffic project.  It is a masterly plan that would have made Olmstead proud.

photo via DouglasElliman.com

Because each family who owned the house did so for decades, No. 41 remained a single family home.  Albert Hopper would have been stunned at the asking price of $7.2 million for his house when it was offered for sale in 2020.

photographs by the author

The 1837 George Van Zile House - 29 Bethune Street

In 1836 a group of men who no doubt knew one another through their interactions in the building trade joined forces to erect a speculative row of six homes on Bethune Street between Greenwich and Washington Streets.  Alexander Douglass and Henry S. Forman were partners in a contracting firm, William Goudey was a carpenter, and Isaac S. Spencer was a builder.   They almost assuredly erected the houses themselves.

Completed in 1837 the two-and-a-half story Greek Revival structures were faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.   The squat attic level of the relatively new architectural style was more functional than the peaked roof and dormers of the Federal style.  Most likely drawing from style books, the builders included upscale touches that revealed these were intended for middle or upper-middle class families.  Doorways flanked by sidelights and capped with ample transoms included paneled pilasters with carved capitals.   The peaked window lintels went a step further than a simple molding, and the areaway and stoop railings were fine examples of the Greek Revival style.

No. 29 became the home of George Van Zile.  It appears that he operated his cabinetmaking shop, G. Van Zile & Co., in the building in the rear yard since he used the Bethune address as his business address as well.   In 1852 he submitted examples of his work to the 26th Annual Fair of the American Institute.  He was awarded a silver medal for "the best newel posts."  At the outbreak of Civil War Van Zile joined the 34th Infantry, Company E.

The well-to-do Hughes family, recently from Ireland, followed the Van Ziles in the house.  George Hughes, given the respected title of "Esquire" by newspapers, had died in Armagh, Ireland before the family left.  Young Alexander Hughes died in the house on October 2, 1869.  The New York Herald announced "The funeral will take place from the residence of his mother, 29 Bethune street."  His wide-spread business dealings were evidenced in the request "Armagh, Ireland; St. Louis, Mo., and Quebec, Canada, papers please copy."

Within two years the house was owned by Wilson Reid, listed in directories as a "cartman."  Given his ability to own his own residence, he probably operated a delivery business rather than simply being a deliveryman.  Anna E. Reid, most likely his daughter, taught in the Girls' Department of Public School No. 44 on the corner of North Moore and Varick Streets.

As was common, the Reid family rented a room in their home.  In 1872 Warren N. Barnes lived here.  He was appointed an Inspector of Elections that year, a highly responsible position.  In 1875 and '76 Louis Feltzer rented the room.  He was a printer with a shop at No. 86 Walker Street.

The family remained in the house until 1887 when Wilson Reid sold it to John Carroll, who owned the saloon at No. 759 Washington Street, conveniently around the corner.

At the time Bethune Street ran from the Hudson River to Greenwich Street.  John Carroll most likely had his business in mind when he and some others petitioned the Board of Street Opening and Improvements in March 1889 to extend it to Hudson Street, thereby making access much simpler.

Like the previous owners, Carroll leased rooms in the house.  In 1890 Lawrence Lynch, listed as a "foreman," and Emanuel M. Hurtado, a clerk, lived with the family.

At the eastern end of the street, on Abingdon Square, was a large factory building.  Fire broke out on the night of April 17, 1891 and quickly grew to an inferno.  It spread to the apartment building at No. 90 Bank Street where seventeen families lived, then to three others on Greenwich Street.  The streets filled with men, women and childre.  Some elderly persons had to be carried out to safety.

Carroll had rushed to the scene early on in hopes to help.  The Sun reported "John Carroll of 29 Bethune street opened his house to the families driven out of their homes in Bank street.  He sent about a dozen people to his home, where his wife took care of them, and then he started home himself."  He got permission from an officer to pass through the closed-off street, but the Good Samaritan not get very far.

"Policeman Coleman ordered him back, and emphasized his command with a thwack of his club on Mr. Carroll's right hand, which broke the thumb," said the article.  The show of force most likely elicited a physical response from Carroll because the it went on, "Coleman then arrested Mr. Carroll and took him to the station house.  It was 4 o'clock in the morning before friends heard of the arrest and bailed Mr. Carroll out."

In court the next morning several witnesses attested to Carroll's story and he was discharged.  He voiced his dissatisfaction with Officer Coleman to reporters.  "I'm not a tough, and I don't propose to be used like one.  I don't like to interfere with any man's making a living, but that's not the kind of work the city expects from policemen."

The incident seems to have stuck with Carroll.   After leaving the saloon at Horatio and West Streets at about 10:00 on June 12, 1894 truck driver John Donovan ran into a few friends.  They were talking when Policeman Michael Murray approached and told them to move along.  Donovan apparently did not move fast enough.

When he appeared in court the following day on disorderly conduct charges, his head "was swathed in bandages," according to the New-York Tribune, and when the judge asked what happened, he said "The cop did it."

According to Donovan, he started to walk away when he "received a blow across the side of the head that knocked me to the sidewalk, and heard the policeman swear at me.  While I was lying on the sidewalk the policeman clubbed me about the head until I was almost senseless, and did not stop until a citizen interfered and saved me from being killed."  The newspaper noted that "John Carroll, of No. 29 Bethune st., furnished bail for Donovan."

Later that year Carroll sold No. 29 to his long-term tenant, Lawrence Lynch.   He and his wife, Martha, had two grown sons, Bernard and John, Jr., who both lived in the house.  The sons worked together as blacksmiths at No. 500 West Street.

It is unclear how long the Lynch family remained at No. 29; but by 1911 it was the home of the John Duffell family.  On August 11 that year 11-year old Elizabeth J. Duffell died in the house.  Her funeral was held here the following afternoon.

Elizabeth had a sister, Antoinette, who was a year older.  She lived on in the house until her death at the age of 22 on February 13, 1920.  Like her sister's had been, her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.  

It appears that despite her young age, Antoinette had inherited the property and was the sole owner.  It was purchased that year by real estate operator and developer Jane Weston who lived in it for several years.

By 1947 the widowed Anne Carroll owned No. 29.  Listed in directories as "librarian," she was a long-term member of the Special Libraries Association.  Her name appeared on a far different list during a meeting of the Senate's hearing on the "Scope of Soviet Activity in the United States" on February 21, 1956.

Other than the added fire escape, essentially nothing has changed to No. 29 since this photo was taken in the 1940's.  via NYC Department of  Records & Information Services

Unlike most of the homes along the Bethune Street block, No. 29 managed to escape conversion to apartments throughout the 20th century.  Nevertheless, a fire escape installed around 1956 strongly suggests that it was being operated as a rooming house.

By the mid-1970's the Doyle family were living here.  Son Michael's name appeared in newspapers for all the wrong reasons.  In the summer of 1976 he was involved with a gang of youths who attempted to clear Washington Square park of Blacks and Hispanics.  It came to a violent, senseless and tragic climax on September 8.  According to The New York Times, the 16-year old "together with more than 50 persons, stormed into Washington Park, swinging bats and yelling, 'All niggers out of the park.'"  Fourteen people people were hospitalized injured and one, Marcus Mota, died of his injuries four days later without regaining consciousness.  Another youth was blinded in one eye.

Michael Doyle was one of eleven boys ranging from 16- to 20-years old who were tracked down and arrested.  He was charged with "assault, rioting and manslaughter."  But, no doubt astonishing newspaper readers, all of the defendants were released on September 17, 1977 after justice Robert M. Raft found that the District Attorney mishandled the case.

Doyle was not off the hook, though.  The group was retried the following spring.  He escaped the charge of manslaughter and was convicted of rioting and assault.  Perhaps because of his age he received a prison sentence of "a maximum of four years."

A renovation completed in 2017 resulted in two duplexes within the house--in the basement and parlor level, and the third and fourth floors.   Remarkably intact after nearly 185 years, it was described by in the Landmarks Preservation Commission's designation report in 1969 as "one of the best preserved examples of Greek Revival residential architecture in Greenwich Village."

photograph by the author

The Daniel Hoagland Carpenter House - 39 Bethune Street

Even before her marriage to Divie Bethune, Joanna Graham had devoted her life to charitable works.  With financial help from her husband, she founded institutions like the Society for the Relief of Poor Widows with Small Children, the Infant School Society and the Society for the Promotion of Industry Among the Poor.  When she ceded land in Greenwich Village for a street, it was named in her honor, Bethune Street.

In 1846 a three-story, brick faced house was erected at No. 39 Bethune Street.  Three bays wide, the Greek Revival style residence sat above a shallow porch.  A horsewalk--or narrow passage to the side--led to the rear yard where a second structure was located.

It was the picture frame factory of John Sigler (also spelled Siegler in some documents) before long.  On September 29, 1853 The New York Herald reported that "a fire broke out in the shop of Mr. John Sigler, at the rear of No. 39 Bethune street."  The New York Times added "The flames were discovered by the workmen just as they were quitting work and, with the assistance of two or three fire companies, the fire was extinguished before doing much damage to the building.  The loss on the stock of Mr. Siegler is estimated at $360."  The loss would equal more than $12,000 today.

Daniel Hoagland Carpenter was married to Hester Van Zile in 1853.  Shortly afterward they moved into No. 39.  The couple would have five children. 

Carpenter's American roots stretched back to colonial times.  The New York Times later remarked "An ancestor, William Carpenter, was with Roger Williams in the founding of the Providence colony, and he, with Alice Carpenter Bradford, wife of Gov. Bradford of Massachusetts, and others, purchased land from the Indians at what is now Oyster Bay, L. I. in 1677."  

Daniel Carpenter and his partner I. H. Wilson, now operated their lumber business and steam mill, D. H. Carpenter & Co., in the rear factory building.  Lumber from Carpenter's establishment would be used in major structures like the Fifth Avenue Hotel and the Brick Presbyterian Church.


Daniel Carpenter was active in community affairs.  And he, as well, seems to have had little patience for saloons which operated in the neighborhood on Sundays.  He made a complaint against Isaac B. Smith in the summer of 1854 resulting on a raid.  Smith, his bartender, and his customers were arrested--nine persons in all--and each fined $2.50, around $77.50 today.

On September 26, 1860 Carpenter and I. H. Wilson announced the dissolution of their partnership.  The New York Evening Express noted "D. H. Carpenter will continue the business at 39 Bethune Street."  

The rear building was large enough for Carpenter to rent space.  On April 17, 1863 an advertisement in The New York Herald offered "A light, high ceiling room, fifty by twenty feet, to let cheap, with steam power.  A wood worker preferred.  Inquire of D. H.Carpenter, 39 Bethune street, New York."  That same year, on July 24, he advertised "Cabinet Maker Wanted--This morning apply to D. H. Carpenter, 39 Bethune st., N.Y."

In 1867 Carpenter purchased a home in Maplewood, New Jersey, initially, it seems, as a summer house.  The family was still living on Bethune Street in 1869 when 15-year old Marion entered the June Introductory Class of the City University of New York.  But by 1875, although he still ran his mill from the rear factory, Carpenter had moved his family permanently to Maplewood.

The main house was altered for a packing box factory run by James Fagan and A. W. Loomis.  On June 1 John McLellan and his wife, Euphemia, purchased the property for $9,500, just over $250,000 today.  Within the year they hired architect James E. Ware to renovate the house.  His plans, filed on January 29, 1886 read "factory building, altered for tenement." 

When Gustavus Isaacs purchased the property at auction in March 1899 the Real Estate Record & Guide described it as a "3-story brick tenement."  At the same auction he purchased the two-story tenement at No. 747 Washington Street.  Exactly ten years later he sold the properties to the newly-organized  Zurich Silk Finishing Company, which simultaneously purchased Nos. 33 through 37 Bethune Street.

The old horsewalk still separated the new factory from No. 39.

Oddly enough, while a substantial silk finishing factory was erected at Nos. 33 through 37 and at 745-747 Washington Street, the vintage house at No. 39 Street survived as the firm's office.  

A 1911 advertisement discretely removed the 1846 house from its depiction (where the empty lot appears at the corner); however the old D. H. Carpenter & Co. factory is included.  Silk magazine, November 1911 (copyright expired)

In 1912 the Zurich Silk Finishing Company of America merged with three other firms to form the Silk Finishing Company of America.  The former residence continued to house its business offices.  

For decades to come workers would receive an envelope of cash on paydays.  That practice necessitated at least one employee to make a weekly trip to the bank to withdrawal the payroll, making him a tempting target for robbers.

On December 21, 1912 paymaster Charles Weber and assistant paymaster Edmund Wyder made their regular Saturday morning trip to the Security Bank of New York on Ninth Avenue at 14th Street.  Because they had given the workmen an unusual mid-week advance so they would have money for Christmas gifts, the payroll was only $1,194, about half of normal.  It was nevertheless a significant $32,000 in today's money.

As they headed back to Bethune Street, two black touring cars were positioned on either end of the block.  Two men loitered on the sidewalk where the paymasters would have to pass.  And as they did so they were ambushed and bludgeoned with blackjacks.  The drivers of the automobiles reacted quickly, picking up the robbers and making off with the payroll.

Just over a week later police were close on the trail of the criminals.  The Sun said on December 30 "The detectives have traced the affair to a former employee of the silk mills who was discharged three weeks previous to the holdup."  It added "the arrest of a band of Harlem Italians...is hourly expected."

Dry Goods Guide, August 1920 (copyright expired)

It December 1920 $125,000 worth of silk in today's dollars was stolen from the factory next door.  A reporter from the New-York Tribune visited No. 39 three months later and was told "that the four employees who told of the robbery have good records and have the company's confidence."  It was apparently well-founded confidence because on March 25 four young men were arrested in connection with the robbery.

The Silk Finishing Company of America left Bethune Street in 1923.  An advertisement on August 9 offered simply "factory for rent."  Finally, three years later, Domestic Engineering and the Journal of Mechanical Contracting announced "C. F. Biele & Sons Co. has recently moved its office and factory to new and larger quarters at 33-39 Bethune street, in New York City, whither they removed from 379 West Twelfth street."

The firm had been organized in 1867 and produced show cases for department stores, museums and private collections among other clients.  In 1938 The New York Sun wrote "The Charles F. Biele & Sons Co., calling itself simply 'artisans in metal, glass and wood,' and usually referred to casually as makers of show cases and vitrines, is far from being as humdrum as it sounds."  The article clarified, "Important private collectors, such as Benjamin Altman...have called upon Biele for special cases; President Roosevelt for his ship model collection; Theodore Roosevelt for his japanese art objects and the present John D. Rockefeller."

A 1940's tax photograph reveals a painted facade.  The wooden shutters overlap one another in their opened position.  via the NYC Department of Records and Information Services.

Charles Biele was not only a designer, but a licensed architect.  He personally oversaw the custom orders.  The Sun noted "Biel has made cases for the Metropolitan [Museum of Art] for more than thirty-five years and for the Morgan Library going back to the elder J. P. Morgan."

Amazingly, as its predecessors had done, Charles F. Biele & Sons used the little brick house for its offices.  The firm was here until its dissolution in 1943.

In 1987 a renovation returned No. 39 to a single family residence.  It was placed on the market that year for $1 million; its realtor boasting four bedrooms, three baths, four fireplaces and "atrium and garden."

The renovation leaves no trace of the home's varied uses or of its miraculous survival.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Ken Biele (and relative of Charles Biel) for prompting this post