An 1886 Queen Anne Style Updating - 4 West 28th Street

In 1866 Miller's Stranger's Guide to New York described the area around Madison Square, saying "The houses surrounding this park include some of the most elegant of this city."  Four years earlier the estate of J. J. Coddington had completed an upscale, four story brownstone two blocks north of the park at No. 4 West 28th Street, just west of Fifth Avenue.  

The 25-foot wide house became the home and office of Dr. William Elmer.  The son of the esteemed Dr. William Elmer, Sr., of Bridgeton, New Jersey, Elmer's residency on West 28th Street was short-lived.  He moved back to Bridgeton by 1865, selling No. 4 to dentist Samuel Hassell.  He and his son, John J., worked together as Samuel Hassell & Son and, as Dr. Elmer had done, ran their dental practice from the house.

The family maintained a summer home on Long Island at the time; but sold it the year after moving into the 28th Street house.  Hassell's description of the property on February 10, 1866 reveals his comfortable financial status.

For Sale or to Rent--A very desirable Country Seat, beautifully situated, commanding a fine view of Long Island Sound...house in the Italian villa style; 14 rooms; 3-1/2 acres of land or more if desired; bar, carriage house, fruit and shade trees.

The family was taking in boarders by 1870.  That year Mary M. Beers, the widow of John Beers, and William Josephy, leather merchant, lived with the Hassells.  An advertisement on September 21, 1874 described "Handsomely furnished rooms on second and third floors to let with first-class board, to a private German family."  

The Hassell family left West 28th Street by 1879 when the new owner, John R. Robinson, placed an advertisement on April 9 offering "Doctor's Office and Reception Room to rent furnished, on parlor floor; rooms large."

It was leased to the eminent physician M. Josiah Roberts.  He was the instructor in orthopedic surgery and mechanical therapeutics at the Post-Graduate Medical School, and in 1881 he published Lectures on the Practice of Medicine, a compilation of seminars by Dr. Francis Delafield.  The esteem in which he was held among the medical community was reflected in an article in the Journal of the American Medical Association on January 5, 1884.  "A reception to Dr. M. Josiah Roberts, of New York, was given on Thursday evening by Dr. William H. Daly, of Pittsburgh, in that city.  Several of Dr. Roberts' professional brethren in New York, Philadelphia, Chicago and elsewhere together with a large number of Pittsburgh physicians, were invited to be present."

Dr. Roberts would soon have to relocate his practice.  John R. Robinson, hired Henry F. Kilburn to remodel completely transform it.  The architect's plans, filed on April 17, 1885, included "take down front wall and extend building on front 4.3 [feet]...one story fitted up for stores and upper stories for flats."  The cost of the make-over was $10,000, or just under a quarter of a million in today's dollars.

The renovations were completed early in 1886.  Kilburn had clad the façade above the two-story cast iron storefront in brick trimmed in stone.  The Queen Anne design included quoins around the openings and up the sides, a whimsical half-bowl below a fourth floor window, and carved spandrel panels between the paired openings of the third and fourth floors.

In keeping with the Queen Anne style's distaste for symmetry, the carved panels were noticeably different.

One of the commercial spaces was taken by ladies' tailors Adams, McIvor & Allen, which started business in January 1887.  Mrs. Charlotte Adams had joined forces with three former employees of John Patterson & Co., one of the city's most high-end manufacturers of women's wear.  The other space was taken by well-known real estate agent Charles S. Peck, who would remain at least through 1893.  

The residents of the apartments were well-heeled, like famous actor Richard Mansfield who had a flat in 1892, and Samuel Mason who was wealthy enough to own his own carriage.

Richard Mansfield was among the most famous actors of his period.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Mary Chelton, however, was not so respectable as her neighbors within the building.  She and another young women were secretly engaging in prostitution.  On December 10, 1893 The Press entitled an article "Purification Goes On" and reported that Police Captain Schmittberger and 60 detectives had raided brothels the previous evening.  Among them was a flat in No. 4 and "here were arrested Mary Chelton and one inmate."

By 1897 Joseph Guggenheim had established his jewelry store here.  He advertised himself as "appraiser of diamonds.  Correct estimates given."

Millionaire Robert Hoe, head of the printing business R. Hoe & Co., purchased the property in October 1898.  Although he made few other changes, the lower level became home to Morello's Restaurant that year.  The New-York Daily Tribune's weekly "Where To Dine" column regularly included Morello's, noting that the ambiance included music.

Following the turn of the century S. Wyler's jewelry store was in the ground floor store while the upper space was home to wholesale florist Charles Schenck.  

New-York Daily Tribune, December 17, 1905 (copyright expired)

One Saturday night in the fall of 1905 a burglar somehow gained entrance and emptied Schenck's cash register.  It happened the next Saturday night, and the next.  Schenck laid a trap.

On Saturday night, October 21 he closed up as usual, but did not leave.  He hid in the dark near the cash drawer and waited.  And he did not have to wait long.

The Evening Telegraph reported "Less than half an hour after the store had been closed the front door was opened with a key and Mr. Schenck, to his surprise, beheld a former employee.  The young man had been accustomed to opening the store when he was employed there and had a key."

Schenck watched as the youth opened the cash drawer, then rushed him, knocking him to the floor.  The thief escaped, however, running westward toward Sixth Avenue.  Schenck was close behind, yelling "Stop, Thief!"  The newspaper reported "Many persons joined in the chase."

At the end of the block, actor Robert Cummings had just turned from the avenue onto 28th Street.  He was headed to Proctor's Fifth Avenue Theatre where he was playing the part of Sir Oliver Surface in School for Scandal.  "Mr. Cummings, who is big and strong, nailed the quarry by knocking him down.  Then he picked up the fellow and protected him until Policeman Williamson...relieved him of the prisoner."

Schenck assumed that Cummings was a detective.  But the following Tuesday a friend commented, "That was Bob Cummings who stopped your thief."  With this new knowledge, Schenck walked into Proctor's Theatre before the matinee, "laden with flowers."  The Telegram said "They were not for Amelia Bingham nor yet for Frances Starr, but for Robert Cummings."

Although painted, the upper section retains much of its 1886 integrity.

In the beginning of 1907 Schenck left and the "parlor floor" as described by the New-York Tribune, store was taken by Minot Govan, dealer in photographic supplies.  His announcement in The Evening Telegram noted "Last week of bargains before removal to 4 West 28th st.; portrait cameras at $3 and $5; camera stands, $3 up; lenses portrait, $10 up" and so on.  A $5 camera was indeed a bargain, equal to about $140 today.

Govan's services went beyond the selling of supplies and equipment.  An advertisement in July 1909 offered "Kodaks, films, supplies; developing, printing, enlarging."

S. Wyler was still at the address that year.  As Christmas approached on December 19, he held a sale "on account of lateness of the season."  He promised that his "genuine antique jewels and finest European and American silver" would be sold "at prices which defy competition, less than 1/3 of prices asked elsewhere."

More likely, the reason behind the sale was that Wyler was in financial trouble.  A year later the jewelry store was gone and the Label Shop replaced it.  The Label Committee had been formed by a consortium of labor unions.  The "label" or stamp J. H. U. was sewn or stamped into union-made products.  In its September 1, 1911 report, the Label Committee wrote "The most important development in regard to the label was the opening on February 4, 1911, of the Label Shop at 4 West Twenty-eighth Street."

The shop was stocked with union-made clothing, "tub and lingerie dresses, silk waists, chiffon jumpers, shirtwaists," etc.   The Brooklyn newspaper The Chat said "The purpose is to demonstrate that women can purchase all necessities for wearing, from gowns to underwear, made under union conditions."

The group's president, Carola Woerishoffer, was described by The New York Press as a "wealthy suffragist and social worker."  A tireless worker, she was also the treasurer of the Woman's Trade Union League, a director of the Greenwich Settlement House, and of the Labor Legislation Association.  The New York Press said "She took an active interest in the strike of the shirtwaist girls, and bailed them out as fast as they were arrested."

The Label Shop left in 1913.  Russin & Hanfling had its office and salesroom in the building by now.  Its advertisements described it as "Manufacturers and Importers of willow and fancy baskets for florists" and "dealers in florists' supplies."

On October 22, 1916 The Sun reported that A. Cotromano had taken the "store" "for restaurant purposes.  It is unclear whether that included both floors.  Then, following the sale of the building in July 1920, The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the new owner, the L. K. Schwartz Co. "will alter the property and resell it."

The renovation was not begun until 1922 and was completed the following year.   There were now apartments above the two-story commercial space.  Among the initial residents were Dr. Riedon, and Morris Schwinger, both of whom were involved in poison pies that year.

On August 1, 1922 the New-York Tribune ran the headline "Broadway Pie Poisons Scores; 4 in Hospital."   The article reported that "police estimate that between fifty and one hundred persons were affected" after eating "peach, huckleberry or blackberry pie" at the Shelburne Restaurant.  Among the victims taken to Bellevue Hospital where their stomachs were pumped was Morris Schwinger. 

A month later, on September 9, the same newspaper reported "The police of the East Twenty-second Street station swooped down on the Purity Shop, Broadway and Twenty-sixth Street, yesterday afternoon, after the sudden illness of two girls."  The shop girls were initially treated by Dr. Riedon.  Unlike the poison pies, exactly which food they had eaten was more difficult to trace.  The article described their hearty meal: "They had eaten soup, salmon, potatoes, bread pastry and salad."

In 1931 the shop was remodeled for a restaurant and the apartments updated.  Among the residents in 1937 was Cleveland Bissell.  The editor and cartoonist of Shape-Up, the periodical of the C.I.O. labor union.  It was a position that risked enraging hard line union workers.

That summer tensions were high between the A. F. of L. longshoremen's union and the C. I. O. opposition.  On September 21, 1937 Bissell went to a meeting on the Hudson River docks "to bring about harmony."  It did not end that way.  The New York Times reported that outside a Ward Line pier ten members of the International Longshoremen's Association "set on him."  One of the men, Frank Savio, struck Bissell with a bottle.  Savio was convicted of assault the following month.

The 28th Street block suffered neglect through the succeeding decades.  But in 2013 the Italian restaurant Mercato Trattoria signed a lease and today Ulivo, also an Italian restaurant, calls the space home.  And while the commercial space cries out for attention, the upper floors are wonderfully intact.

photographs by the author

The 1905 Street & Smith Building - 79-89 Seventh Avenue

In 1855 journalists Francis Scott Street and Francis Shubael Smith took out a $40,000 loan (a princely $1.2 million today) in order to purchase the newspaper they worked for, The New York Weekly Dispatch.  Four years later, when the loan was paid off, they changed the name of the publication to Street & Smith's New York Weekly.  A feature was serials--stories published in weekly chapters--which all but guaranteed repeat readers.  Many of those stories were written by Francis S. Smith himself.

In 1880 the firm made its previously-published serials available as popular  paperback "dime novels."  Their success prompted Street & Smith to introduce series of novels the following year, each based on a single hero--Buffalo Bill, Deadeye Dick, Nick Carter and Diamond Dick among them.

By 1904 the firm had diversified further, now publishing pulp magazines like The Popular, Tip Top Weekly, Top-Notch Magazine and the New Nick Carter Weekly.  That year, on February 20, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted "Street & Smith, publishers, 238 William st., may erect a new printing plant...at the northeast corner of 7th av and 15th st."  The article noted that architect Henry F. Kilburn was working on the plans.

The journal's caution in noting the firm "may erect" a building was well founded.  In June the previous year Street & Smith had purchased a large lot on East 33rd Street and hired Kilburn to design an 11-story plant; but the project fizzled.  The Record & Guide, however, felt this location was better suited.  "This new site of Street & Smith on 7th av is directly in line with the Pennsylvania terminal, having easy and short transportation to that assured improvement."

Construction was well underway by September and Engineering News placed the cost at $225,000; more than $6.5 million in today's dollars.  The hulking seven-story red brick structure was completed early in 1905.  Critic Russell Sturgis was tepidly pleased with the design.  Writing in the September issue of the Architectural Record he said although it was not "exceptionally happy in design," it "has great merit."

Critic Russell Sturgis pointed out the fire-escape, "so properly called for by our laws," as being "treated as an architectural feature."  Architectural Record, September 1905 (copyright expired)

Sturgis was especially critical of the white stone entrance porch at the northern end of the Seventh Avenue elevation which, without a counterpart, left the design out of balance.  There was, he said, "a great need of something to echo or repeat the note of that porch at the other end of the front."  But the critic was placed that Kilburn had broken up the mass of the wide surfaces with protruding piers.  "The presence of the piers is a most fortunate thing."  Nevertheless he pointed out that "the corner pier is a little too much broken up" by the windows.

Architectural Record, September 1905 (copyright expired)

From the Seventh Avenue plant Street & Smith published an array of weekly magazines and inexpensive novels.  Its Smith's Magazine targeted the female reader with "beautiful art studies" in full-color pages; and The Popular Magazine for Boys and 'Old Boys,' published sports stories.  And then in 1916, the first of its sensational crime and adventure magazines, Detective Story appeared.  (It was, incidentally, the first detective fiction magazine in the world.)  The printing presses on the second floor were in operation 24-hours a day.

Two employees tackle a mountain of paper in the background of this 1906 photo of one office space.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The rationing of paper by the War Industries Board severely affected the firm's output during World War I.  Once its stock was used up production was greatly diminished.   And so in 1918 Street & Smith scrambled to fill back orders by increased production made possible by new, modern presses.

A Trip to Mars was published in 1915.

The firm assured its readers "We have just about caught up now, thanks to some new machinery we have installed which turns out paper-covered books very fast.  Therefore, you can get a very good assortment of the S. & S. novels from your news dealer, including the famous Horatio Alger books."  It added "That boy you know will be mighty glad to have you make him a present of one or two of the Alger books."

In addition to Alger, Street & Smith published works by authors who would go on to fame, like Isaac Asimov, Theodore Dreiser, Paul Ernst, Jack London and Upton Sinclair.  Recognized illustrators like N. C. Wyeth, J. C. Leyendecker and Harold Winfield Scott, just to name three, worked on the various publications.

Workers in the shipping department wore ties and vests.  photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New-York

A more academic work was the 1919 History of the World War.  Street & Smith advertised "The most portentous crisis in the history of the human family has just passed.  The World War was conceived in greed and will be consummated in justice.  It will prove a blessing to mankind, because it spells emancipation to countless unborn generation from enslaving political and social evils...Therefore, we ask you to consider History of the World War by Thomas R. Best which has been written from the American standpoint.  It is purely history--not vituperation."  The volume was priced at 25 cents.

Typesetters worked in much neater and seemingly more organized surroundings.  photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The post-war years were profitable for Street & Smith, and in 1922 it expanded to the east with an abutting building on 15th Street.  

In 1928 the firm took made an innovative marketing move by hiring the Ruthrauff & Ryan Advertising Agency to produce a radio program to promote Detective Story Magazine.  Called "The Detective Story Hour," it was introduced and narrated by a sinister voice known as "The Shadow."  His tag line became familiar to radio listeners across the country:  "The Shadow knows...and you too shall know if you listen as Street & Smith's Detective Story Magazine relates for you the story of..." whatever story was featured that week.

As it turned out, The Shadow's character was so successful that it detracted from the Detective Story sales.  Street & Smith decided the best way to handle the problem was to introduce a new magazine featuring The Shadow.

Top-Notch targeted young male readers.  August 1931

The 1930's were the apex of Street & Smith's success.  It published 35 different magazines in 1934 and had an editorial staff of a dozen.  But as the decade drew to a close, interest in pulp magazines was on the decline.  Starting in 1940 the firm began replacing the discontinued pulp publications with comic books, like The Shadow, Super-Magician Comics, Bill Barnes/Ace Ace, and Doc Savage Comics.

But the heydays were over.  In January 1941 The New York Sun reported that Street & Smith had sold the West 15th Street property.  And then, on December 22, 1943 the same newspaper reported that the firm had "disposed of the last of their holdings."  Because it no longer needing the entire hulking printing plant, the article said "The publishers will continue occupancy in their present location, taking a lease of four floors."

The executive offices moved out of the building, prompting renowned syndicated columnist Walter Winchell to explain (while getting the facts slightly wrong), "Street and Smith, the famed publisher (who have been at 79 Seventh Avenue since 1880) are moving back to civilization at 500 Fifth."

The panel above the entablature of the portico no doubt originally announced the name of Street & Smith.

In 1961 the former printing plant was taken over by Hudson Vitamins.  The first floor was used mostly for the packing and shipping departments; the second for offices and the research laboratories, manufacturing was done on the third through fifth floors.  Along with additional manufacturing space on the sixth floor were the bottling and inspection departments. A seventh floor addition, completed in 1968, was for office and storage space.

Hudson Vitamin Products ran this advertisement for its allergy pills in numerous magazines in 1972.

Hudson Vitamin Products left at the end of the 1970's when plans were laid to convert the upper section to apartments, just three per floor, and a sprawling retail space at ground level.  The alterations were completed in 1980.  

Home furnishings retailer Jensen & Lewis moved into the store space and would be a familiar presence for decades.  It lasted at the address through 2014.

In the meantime, despite its several incarnations, almost nothing has changed to the exterior appearance of the Street & Smith building and its off-balance entrance.

photographs by the author

The Lost Cyrus Clark Mansion - Riveride Drive at 90th Street

photo from the collection of the New York Historical Society

The development of the rocky, hilly Upper West Side into a modern suburb was due in great part to the tireless work of Cyrus Clark.   By the end of the Civil War, when Clark was still in his 30s, he had amassed a substantial personal fortune from his wholesale silk business.

He left New York in 1867 to pursue an entirely different career.  After studying real estate development in Europe, he returned in 1870 and began buying undeveloped land in the Upper West Side.  Disinterested in any other sections of the city, he lobbied for improvements like mass transit, sewer and water lines, and gas street lamps.

Clark pushed for laying out Riverside Drive along Riverside Park, construction of which had begun in 1872.  In February 1884 he helped organize the Citizen's West Side Improvement Association, which was incorporated as the West End Association in 1889.  Clark would be its president for years and his unrelenting work led to his being warmly called The Father of the West Side.

Clark and his wife, the former Julia Antoinette Requa, had three children, Walter, Howard and Mary.   When the West End Association was incorporated Clark and his family had lived in their new home on the southwest corner of Riveride Drive and 90th Street for a year.   Architect Henry F. Kilburn designed the mansion--a successful blending of French Renaissance and Romanesque Revival.  Costing $90,000 to construct (about $2.34 million today), it was faced in rough-cut stone.   The tile-covered hip roof was broken by two towers, dormers and clustered chimneys.   Numerous porches took advantage of the location's river breezes and spectacular views.

On December 17, 1891 The New York Times ran the headline "OWNERS LOADED FOR BEAR."  The article explained that mansion owners along Riverside Drive, including Cyrus Clark, accused the Park Commissioners of failing to maintain Riverside Drive and allowing "nuisances" to invade it.  They insisted that the Parks Commissioners were responsible for their falling property value, and now threatened to go to Albany over the "threatened construction of ill-smelling and unsightly factories along the river front."

This interior view of the Clark house shows a typical 1890s assemblage of paintings, statuary and bric-a-brac. photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Clark never let his guard down in protecting the Upper West Side and in particular the Riverside Drive neighborhood.   He was there when the Parks Commissioners met on February 3, 1892 to discuss the proposed licensing of a triangular piece of land in Riverside Park between 72nd and 75th Streets to the New-York Central Railroad.  Clark fought against the proposal, asserting it "was a scheme to gain the right to the river front, so that docks and warehouses could be built there later."

In the meantime, Julia had more immediate issues on her mind.  Mary was now a young woman and her marriage to Dr. Edward Washburn had to be carefully planned.  The ceremony took place in the Riverside Drive mansion on June 3, 1893, prompting The Times to call it "one of the prettiest of the early June weddings."

The groom was an educator with an impressive background.  He had been an instructor in Latin and Greek at Columbia College, and now held the post of Professor of Sanskrit and Comparative Philology at Bryn Mawr College.

Mary's wedding party assembled on the porch and lawn.  Note the little second floor balcony just above the porch roof; a charming detail.   photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The wedding reception was held in the house following the ceremony.  The New York Times mentioned "The bride and bridegroom will spend the Summer in Europe"

The following year, on October 25, 1894, Walter was married to Alice Marshal Westervelt in what was called "an important and unusually pretty wedding."  The ceremony took place in the fashionable St. George's Episcopal Church on Stuyvesant Square.

Walter had graduated from Harvard five years earlier.  His bride was the great-granddaughter of Daniel D. Tompkins, who was several times the Governor of New York and the James Monroe's Vice President.

Howard was his brother's best man.  The 23-year old had enlisted in the United States Army, serving in Troop A Calvary, in 1891.  He had seen field service in the Buffalo Switchmen Strike in August 1892 and three months after the wedding he would help squelch the violent Brooklyn Trolley Strike.

In October 1897 Clark sold the southern half of the block, totaling about 10 building plots, for about $200,000 (just under $6 million today).  His relinquishing of half his lawn may have been a signal.  With two of his children married, he and Julia left the Riverside Drive mansion in 1898, significantly downsizing to a new rowhouse at No. 327 West 76th Street.

The Riverside Drive mansion was purchased by Mary Llewellyn Swayne Parsons.  Her husband, Edwin Parsons had died four years earlier.  The head of Edwin Parsons & Company, a cotton commission house, he left his widow a substantial fortune.  Mary's father, Noah Haynes Swayne, had been a United States Supreme Court Justice.   Her summer estate was at Northport, Long Island.

Mary wasted no time in opening her new home to guests.  On March 1, 1898 The New York Times reported "Mrs. Edwin Parsons gave a dinner of twelve covers at her home, Ninetieth Street and Riverside Drive, last night.  The table decorations were roses."

On August 30, 1900 Mary was an honored guest at the cornerstone laying ceremonies of the Parsons Memorial Library in Edwin's hometown, Alfred, Maine.  Earlier that year she had taken a much different stance against another memorial.

Mary's neighbor to the north, seen here in 1903, was John H. Matthews, the "soda water king." photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In January, calling herself "a taxpayer," she filed suit against Mayor Van Wyck, the President of the Park Board, three city officials and Joseph A. Goulden, the Chairman of the Memorial Committee of the Grand Army.  She intended to stop plans for erection of the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument at Riverside Drive and 89th Street.   She declared that the monument would interfere "with the flow of light and air and obstruct the view."

No doubt much to Mary's distress, the lawsuit was defeated and the memorial was built.

Mary Parsons died at the age of 73 in 1913.  She left many charitable bequests including, for instance, were $5,000 to the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, $5,000 to the Society for the Relief of Destitute Blind of New York, and $5,000 to the Church Home for Infirm and Disabled Colored People.

Family members, of course, received large inheritances.   The slice of the estate received by Mary's brother, Francis, was $80,000--about $2 million in today's terms--and the Riverside Drive mansion.

In the meantime the wealthy and powerful Bishop Henry C. Potter had constructed his lavish mansion on the corner property that Clark had sold in 1897. That same year restrictive covenants had been placed on the block barring "for a period of thirty-five years" the construction or use of any building except private dwellings intended for single families.

The year before Mary Parsons died William H. Barnard, President of the International Salt Company, and his wife, Lily, had purchased the Potter mansion.  Now those restrictions would result in problems.

Francis Swayne leased his sister's former house to Mrs. Florence B. de G. Shaw.   Florence moved her Hamilton School for Girls into the mansion.  Exclusive private girls' schools were almost always located within upscale residential districts.  But William Barnard was not pleased.

Citing the restrictive covenants, he took Francis Swayne and Florence B. de G. Shaw to court in October 1915.  He argued that the school was a business and, therefore, violated the covenants.  He insisted that "it would be necessary to install fire escapes on the building, which would destroy the privacy of the neighborhood."  The New York Times reported "He said he had heard that Mrs. Shaw would take boarding pupils, as well as day pupils."

Before a grand jury the following month, Florence "contended that the privacy of the Drive neighborhood was passing" and "insisted that her school would be conducted so quietly that it would not disturb the block."

Then she flipped the accusation--pointing out that William Barnard had already broken the restrictive covenant when he leased his mansion for $1,000 to a motion picture company.   Scenes of the silent film thriller, which starred Billie Burke, were shot in the Barnard mansion.  Florence told the court that the privacy of the block was in chaos during the filming.

The mansion was ivy-covered in the early 20th century.  Behind, to the left, can be seen the carriage house. The back of this postcard reads "Cyrus Clark, Father of the West Side, Built This House."

The New York Times reported on November 6, 1916 "The scenes leading up to the capture of the escaped murderer in the house, she said, had been taken on the grounds and in the street, and had created so much excitement that large crowds collected and the peace of the neighborhood was greatly disturbed."

Barnard pressed on with the suit, and hired a private detective to snap photographs.  When the case came to trial on January 8, 1917, William L. Drummond provided his "pictorial evidence" and told of "seeing the girls exercising in the barn, which is now the school's gymnasium."  Barnard testified that his property value had fallen from $880,000 to $800,000 because of the school.

When Barnard won his case, Florence de G. Shaw appealed to the State Supreme Court.  On December 14, 1917 the ruling was overturned and Barnard's suit dismissed.  The court decided that the restrictions applied "to any future buildings erected on the property and did not affect present building there."

The tense co-existence between the Barnards and the Hamilton School for Girls would last only seven more years.  In 1925 the mansions were demolished to be replaced with that block-engulfing apartment building designed by J. E. R. Carpenter which survives.

photo via https://www.manhattanscout.com/building/173-riverside-drive

The 1890 West End Presbyterian Church -- Amsterdam Ave and 105th Street

On February 7, 1888, a small group of Presbyterian men gathered in the Marshall mansion at Columbus Avenue and 104^th Street to discuss the prospects of a new congregation.   Nearly a year earlier, in May, a Presbyterian Sunday school had been organized which originally met in the Marshall house and then moved to a ramshackle building nearby.

Now, with the Upper West Side exploding with new homes, businesses and residences, the need for a formal Presbyterian presence was brought to the table.  When the men left the Marshall mansion they had organized the West End Presbyterian Church with 69 members, “three of whom joined on the confession of their faith,” said The Westminster, a religious publication.

A small chapel was erected on “the Boulevard,” later renamed Broadway.  But, according to The New York Times, it “was not completed before it was found to be too small.”   In January 1889 the corner plot at Amsterdam Avenue and 105^th Street was purchased and a second, larger chapel was built.  The new congregation commissioned the architectural firm of Carrere & Hastings to design the $40,000 structure.  The cornerstone was laid on June 22, 1889 and the new building, which The Westminster deemed “a remarkably beautiful piece of work with its loggia of stairway columns and its Romanesque filigrees,” was dedicated on October 20 the following year.

A few years later The New York Times printed a grainy photograph of the chapel -- (copyright expired)

The New York Times later remarked that the new chapel “was thought to be large enough for a growth of at least ten years.  In less than one year, however, it was overcrowded.”   Another writer agreed, “No sooner, however, had the second chapel been completed than it was seen that the congregation was destined soon to outgrow even that.”

The congregation called back Carrere & Hastings who designed a church structure that nestled up its chapel.  But the architects proved a little too pricey for the start-up congregation despite its growing numbers.  “These plans, however, called for so large an outlay that it was necessary to modify them, and at the same time increase the capacity of the church,” explained The New York Times.

Kilburn's sketch was published in Architecture and Building News on May 7, 1892 (copyright expired)

The Carrere & Hastings drawings were scrapped and architect Henry F. Kilburn was consulted for a less costly structure.   The cornerstone was laid on June 22, 1891 and Kilburn’s striking Romanesque Revival structure was dedicated in April 1892.  American Architect and Architecture described the church on January 7, 1893.  “This church, built of buff brick, relieved with terra-cotta of slightly lighter tone, is a very good example of rapid building as it is now carried on in this country.”  By not mentioning Carrere & Hastings, the publication deftly skirted the possibility of insulting the esteemed firm.  “While the church proper was building, the society worshiped in the chapel annexed to the present structure designed in a similar style but by other architects.”

The newly-completed church sat in the midst of still-undeveloped lots -- The American Architect and Building News, January 3, 1893 (copyright expired)

Indeed, Kilburn had produced a church “in a similar style.”  He continued Carrere & Hastings’ peaked gable, grouped arches, and bandcourses.  The small pinnacles on either side of the chapel’s gable were copies on the Amsterdam Avenue elevation.  Anchoring it all was a tall Italian bell tower with pseudo-balconies on each side.

The American Architect and Building News, January 3, 1893 (copyright expired)

In its new building, West End Presbyterian continued to flourish.  By 1898, upon the 10^th Anniversary of the congregation, it was the third largest Presbyterian church in New York and one of the largest in the country.  The New York Times noted on January 22, 1898, “One church in this city labors under the unique difficulty of having so many members and Sunday school scholars that it is seriously embarrassed to know what to do for the future…The church, large and handsome, has been in use only about six yeas, and now is as much too small as the old chapel was, and pews are not to be had at any price.”  The newspaper noted that on every communion Sunday between 20 and 50 new members were waiting to be admitted.

By now the congregation which had started with 69 members had exploded to 1,400.   The New York Times noted that “No more land can be acquired adjoining the present buildings.  Estimates have been secured on the cost of remodeling the present buildings, and discussion has been had about the erection of a chapel in a near-by street.”

The Westminster attributed the tremendous growth on the church’s location and welcoming atmosphere.  “This personal touch coupled with the fact that the church is located in the very heart of the upper West Side has had much to do with the remarkable growth of the West End Church…It is said that during the last few years more people have got on and off the elevated station at One Hundred and Fourth street than at any other station.”

Coupled with those factors was the church’s innovative and open-minded approach.  In April 1902 the church purchased the house at 166 West 105^th Street for $14,000 as a meeting place for the various social organizations of the church.  But the new facility sparked a pioneering concept—a nursery school.  The New-York Tribune reported on April 21, “This house will also be used as a kindergarten Sunday school, and on Sundays room will be set aside for the care of babies.  Mothers who have no one at home to care for their babies, and who cannot attend church service owing to this fact, may leave them at the house, where they will be cared for by women of the auxiliary society of the church until the services are over.”

The innovation was necessary in part because of the large tenement community that had grown up around the church.   The New York Times noted that “Four-fifths of its membership are residents of tenements and flathouses,” and the New-York Tribune said, “In these are a large number of mothers who desire to attend service at the church, but cannot unless they can get some woman to stay with the children at home while they go to church.”

By 1904, West End Presbyterian was taking in an additional 112 members per year.   At the time, fashionable New Yorkers closed their homes and traveled off to summer resorts for the three-month season when heat and humidity made city living uncomfortable at best.  With members gone, churches around the city closed their doors, too.   Then West End Presbyterian rethought the tradition.

On July 2, 1904, the New-York Tribune noted, “Practically all of the Protestant churches here are closed for the summer…One of the notable exceptions to the general rule is the West End Presbyterian Church…which has no hesitation in throwing open its doors all summer long.”

The assistant pastor, Rev. William Bishop Gates, told the newspaper “a church which fails to furnish, in the hardest time of the year, for those who are toiling and sweating in a sweltering city, that cool and calm that its open doors could give, that rest and relief to the physically overborne, and the spiritually depleted which communion with God can afford, is failing in its duty.”

With the resignation of the Rev. Dr. John Balcom Shaw in 1905, West End Presbyterian saw its first new minister since its inception.  When the young Rev. A. Edwin Keigwin took the pulpit, every pew in the church was rented.  Another innovation was put in place: a gymnasium, or “athletic association.”  The New York Observer said it “occupies a fine club building and half a city block fully equipped for its purposes, and owned and operated under the direction of members of the church.”

The New-York Tribune published a photograph of the church and Rev. Keigwin as he took the post of pastor on February 11, 1905 (copyright expired)

A reflection of the open-minded attitude of West End Presbyterian is perhaps seen in the June 8, 1913 discussion held here on the topic of eugenic marriage.  A spirited debate among pastors and civic leaders addressed the pros and cons of what, to the 21^st century mind, is somewhat shocking.

The concept of improving the human race by restricting marriages to genetically-stronger individuals was just a part of the eugenics movement that would culminate in the Nazi Party’s experiments a few decades later.  In the meantime, speakers expressed somewhat surprising attitudes in the 104^th Street church that night.

The New York Times reported the following day on the opinions of former Congressman William S. Bennet, in charge of the Presbyterian Church’s meeting.  “He called attention to the fact that literature and art had their beginnings in the Church which now was called upon to do pioneer work for morality and a stronger, healthier race of men and women.”

Perhaps equally shocking to certain Edwardian women were the 35 young ladies from the church “in bloomers and middy blouses” who filed into the 71^st Regiment Armory on the night of March 4, 1915.  There they “watched white and colored pugilists pummel each other ‘for the benefit of the deserving unemployed of New York City',” said The Evening World.

“The girls, from the West End Presbyterian Church, didn’t appear shocked, but manifested their approval by applauding the fistic efforts of Freddy Welsh, lightweight champion of the world; Young Ahearn, middleweight champion of Europe; Battling Levinsky, Jack Britton, Joe Jeannette and other fighters.”

The newspaper quickly added that the girls were properly attended.  “The young women were chaperoned, however, dignity being added by the presence of Louis H. Junod, Swiss Consul in this city; Djelal Munif Bey, Consul General of Turkey; Paul D. Cravath, Cabot Ward, Elihu Root jr., Mrs. J. V. Bouvior jr., Mrs. Alphous Geer and many other prominent men and women.”  Following the boxing matches, “The girls also contributed more than a fair share of pleasure by performing remarkable Swedish calisthenics under the direction of Charles A. Palmer.”

The church continued its outreach and adaptation to change.  In 1918 the neighborhood saw the arrival of female streetcar conductors—something not only unheard of a few years earlier, but inconceivable.  Called “conductorettes,” they suffered a distinct disadvantage.  Their male counterparts could disembark from the street car at nearly any stop and run into a saloon to use the rest room.  There were no such accommodations for a woman.  Citizens were shocked in December that year when conductorettes “were seen entering the back room of a saloon at 106^th Street and Amsterdam Avenue, owned by James P. Droogan,” reported the New-York Tribune.

Rev. Keigwin came to the rescue, offering the parish house.  “This parish house is within a stone’s throw of the 106^th Street junction, where these cars make a fairly long stop, and the girls will be able to drop into the house for a few minutes’ relaxation, a cup of hot tea, a chat, or—where their wait is long enough—the privilege of reading magazines which Dr. Keigwin will provide,” said the New-York Tribune. 

The newspaper added “The parish house is, of course, equipped with dressing room accommodations, and is warm and cosey.  The girls will be made just as welcome as are the soldiers and sailors.”

The following year the church hit upon another ground-breaking way to keep congregants engaged—motion picture night.  Every Monday a screen was hung across the chancel and seven reels of motion pictures were shown.  The Sun reported, “Music is furnished by the pipe organ.”  Included in the weekly program was The World To-day, a compilation of world-wide newsreels.

Although no admission was charged, a collection was taken which rarely fell below $100.  The church was able to pay for the film rentals and often added to its treasury.  An unexpected by-product was outreach to other religious communities.  “Christians, Jews and Catholics come to community nights and none leave without having seen something worth while,” said The Sun. 

In retrospect, the programs were a bit propagandist.  “The films shown have as an essential idea patriotism, respect for one’s neighbor, the folly of Bolshevism or some present day principle.”

If New Yorkers thought Dr. Keigwin’s idea of movie night was revolutionary, they were more impressed when in 1924 he instituted live radio broadcasts of the services.   “We are living in a radio age and the radio has opened an entirely new book of opportunity to the Church,” Keigwin explained after the first broadcast service on April 18.  The pastor was ready to “take any criticism” that his fellow ministers would heap upon him—one of them had already told him the idea was “a dangerous thing.”

Instead, according to The New York Times, “hardly was the service over last evening when Dr. Keigwin’s telephone began to ring with messages of gratitude from radio communicants.”

One caller said “I am a cold-blooded woman and it is a long time since I have been to a Holy Communion service.  But I listened in tonight and I am uplifted and have determined to come back to the fold.”

On March 8, 1929, the Rev. Dr. A. Edwin Keigwin’s wife died suddenly at their home at 340 Riverside Drive.  Before her memorial service three days later the pastor had donated and had installed a new set of chimes.   The first time they were rung was at the conclusion of her memorial service.

When the church celebrated its golden jubilee in February 1938, Dr. Keigwin was still at the pulpit after 33 years.  The congregation that had started life with 69 souls now numbered 2,499 members.

Today West End Presbyterian Church continues the tradition of inclusion and outreach begun by Rev. Shaw in 1889.  The congregation shares its striking Romanesque building with a synagogue.  Congregation Kehilat Romenu is run by an equally-progressive rabbi, David Ingber.

non-historic photographs taken by the author