New York City Guide: Commerce Street

Showing posts with label Commerce Street. Show all posts

Thursday, January 31, 2019

The Half-Hidden 1844 No. 46 Commerce Street

New York City Commerce Street , Greek Revival architecture

photo via streeteasy.com

Alexander Turney Stewart opened his first dry goods store in 1823, selling Irish lace and linens. His success would skyrocket and by 1848 he was known as the "Merchant Prince of America" and ran the largest emporium in the world, with branches in 12 countries, and before long was among the richest men in America.

Stewart's wealth did not come solely from dry goods. Early on he invested in real estate, much in the Greenwich Village and Tribeca districts. In 1844 he erected two brick houses on Commerce Street on land he leased from Trinity Church. His choice of plots--sitting within the elbow of the street's sharp turn--is somewhat surprising, since it necessitated Nos. 46 and 48 Commerce Street to be built at right angles to one another.

The three stories tall, the brick Greek Revival style homes sat on brownstone-faced English basements. Both three bays wide, they were intended for financially comfortable, although not wealthy, tenants.

Seen at the bend of Commerce Street, to the right, No. 46 was still three stories tall and retained its stoop and entrance when this photo was taken. from the collection of the New York Public Library

In 1876 Stewart made a significant change to No. 46 when he hired builders James C. Hoe & Co. to add a fourth story at a cost of $300--in the neighborhood of $7,000 today. The plans were submitted on March 24. It would be, perhaps, the last noticeable transaction in the millionaire's illustrious career. A week later, around April 1, Stewart contracted a cold. He died in his marble mansion on Fifth Avenue on April 10.

Stewart's wife, the former Cornelia Clinch Stewart, inherited his vast real estate holdings. Following her death in 1886 her nephew Prescott Hall Butler filed suit to have the will dismissed. A well-heeled attorney and partner in the "white shoe" law firm of Evarts, Choate & Beaman, his battle proved profitable. He received a large portion of the Stewart real estate, including the newly-remodeled No. 46 Commerce Street.

In the 42 years since the house was erected the Greenwich Village neighborhood had changed demographically. It was now filling with immigrant families like that of Gottfried Mieling who lived at No. 46 when Hall took title to it. Mieling, it seems, was involved in the brewing or saloon business.

In the spring of 1900 Hall began selling off much of his real estate holdings. On March 9 alone he sold Nos. 53 and 55 Morton Street, and Nos. 46 and 48 Commerce Street. He died in his Park Avenue mansion the following year, in December.

John Blesch, Jr. purchased No. 46 (his brother, Charles D. Blesch bought No. 48). As had always been the case, the new owners were landlords, not residents. And both buildings would remain in the Blesch family for years.

John Moriarty and his wife lived here in 1922 when they received devastating news. Their son, also named John, was a detective in the Safe and Loft Squad (the team tasked with investigating commercial burglaries). On Saturday night, June 24 Detective Moriarty was among the team of seven who had been staking out Nos. 306 and 308 Fifth Avenue. When two burglars were seen entering the building they jumped into action.

The crooks fled onto the rooftops, followed closely by Moriarty and his partner, Detective Charles Schauss. In the chaos Moriarty was struck by a bullet--fired not by the crooks, but tragically by Schauss. The New York Times reported "One of the bullets struck a galvanized iron skylight...and, deflecting it, struck Moriarty...in the neck. As Moriarity reeled toward the top of the stairs another detective saw him and helped him down."

Both of the perpetrators, Joseph Morris and John Behrmann, were caught; but Moriarty's condition was grave. He was removed to Bellevue Hospital, there two days later it was said he had "slightly improved." Despite that hopeful announcement, Moriarty died a week later on July 2.

John Moriarty went to the morgue to retrieve his son's body, but, according to The New York Times, "was informed that the body could not be removed until Dr. Charles Norris, Chief Medical Examiner, had performed an autopsy, as is the custom in cases of death from gunshot wounds." Upon hearing that news, the detective's wife, already grief-stricken, could take no more.

An hour later she demanded that her husband's body be released. "John gave his life for the City of New York and now it denies me his body. They will cut and disfigure him against my wishes and against what I know his would be. There is no excuse for cutting under the circumstances. We know how he died," she pleaded.

Her father-in-law came to her support. The New-York Tribune, on July 3, reported "John Moriarty, father of the dead detective, who lives at 46 Commerce Street, also visited Police Headquarters seeking assurance that no autopsy would be performed on the body."

The young John Moriarty left not only a widow but four children. original source of photograph unknown

Detective Moriarty's funeral, held on July 6, was impressive. His body was escorted from his home to the Church of St. Alphonsus on West Broadway by 100 detectives and 150 uniformed policemen. The headline in the New-York Tribune the following day read "Detective Is Pallbearer For Comrade He Shot."

John Moriarty and his wife may have shared No. 46 with another family at the time. But certainly in 1926 there was more than one family living in the building. A restriction by the Department of Buildings that year read "not more than 2 families cooking, independently, on premises."

Among those renting part of the house were actress Elsie Rizer and her husband, maritime insurance broker, Aage Woldlike. The couple was secretly married in Grace Church on November 21, 1925; however (unbeknownst to the minister, Rev. Eliot White), they had built an escape clause into the arrangement in case things did not work out. On December 21, 1926 The New York Times explained "They agreed that for a year they would consider the marriage 'temporary.' They told only one friend of the compact."

They had had wedding announcements printed, which they stashed away until the year had elapsed and they knew whether the marriage was a success or a failure. It was a success. And so in December 1926 the cards were mailed to their surprised friends:

The experiment having proved successful thus far, Miss Elsie Rizer and Mr. Aage Woldlike desire to announce their marriage Saturday, the twenty-first of November, one thousand nine hundred and twenty-five. Grace Church, New York.

In 1928 Carlton A. Shively purchased what was described as "a five-story remodeled house." The building had been sold three times within the past few months. The stoop had been removed by now and the building contained four apartments and a studio. The artist studio had been installed in the top floor which Alexander Stewart added in 1876.

Shively announced that the purchase was "for an investment." Nevertheless, he moved into the house before very long, most likely prompted by his separation from his wife, the former Marie Wilson. The couple was married on March 26, 1927, a year before Shively purchased No. 46, and had a son. But on August 28, 1930 they were divorced.

Born in Kansas in 1891, Shively was a well-known financial writer, stock-market analyst and author. Following his duty with the American Expeditionary Force in France during World War I, he came to New York City, joining the financial staff of The Evening Post in 1920. In 1925 he moved to The Sun, becoming its financial editor in 1930.

Carlton A. Shively (left) as he appeared in 1946. from the collection of the University of Texas at Arlington Libraries

In 1950 The World-Telegram acquired The Sun and Shively became an analyst writer for the merged newspapers. He divided his time between the Commerce Street house and his home in Riverside, Connecticut.

Shively lived quietly here until his death on July 8, 1952. The New York Times reported that he "died here Tuesday night, apparently of a heart attack. His age was 61." Three months later his estate sold No. 46 to the Truckee Holding Company. The Times commented "Mr. Shively, a financial writer, had occupied the building as his residence until his death a few months ago."

No. 46 is nearly hidden in the sharp turn of Commerce Street. photograph by the author

Tenants in the apartments came and went through the subsequent decades, drawing little or no attention to themselves. But then in 2004 a gut renovation of the third and fourth floors created an upscale, 1,200-square-foot duplex apartment for the less low-profile Carly Simon.

The famous singer-songwriter, children's author, and musician lived most of the time in Martha's Vineyard, using the two-bedroom, two-bath Commerce Street co-op as a pied-à-terre when in town. Four years after the renovation, she put the property on the market for $3.8 million, her sister Joanna Simon explaining to the New York Post "She's selling mainly because she lives nearly full-time in Martha's Vineyard these days."

Perhaps unexpectedly, the duplex did not sell. It was not until November 2013 that Carly Simon sold it for a reduced price of $2.32 million. Curbed New York commented "at long last, the apartment has found someone to appreciate its wide-plank flooring, two fireplaces, and bathtub in a non-bathroom (always a highlight)." That "non-bathroom" was, in fact, Ms. Simon's living room.

Carly Simon's decorating taste included an antique French mantel and, unexpectedly, a bathtub in the living room. photo via blocksy.com

It was one more page in the ever-changing history of the 1844 house squeezed into the hidden corner of Commerce Street, and of Greenwich Village in general.

The Charming 1821 Survivor at 28 Commerce Street

New York City Commerce Street , Federal architecture

In 1821, about a year before Cherry Lane was renamed Commerce Street, shoemakers Asher Martin and John Bennet got in on the building boom in Greenwich Village by erecting three modest homes at what would be numbered Nos. 24 through 28 Commerce Street.

Faced in red Flemish bond brick, the frame Federal-style houses were intended for working class families. Two-and a half stories stories tall, each was just 16 feet wide. They displayed none of the upscale details that defined more affluent residences. Plain brownstone lintels and simple wooden cornices made do. Nevertheless, the architect added decorative molding around the sunburst transom bar above the paneled door.

The delicate treatment of the entrance transom was a lovely exception to the otherwise moderate design.

It does not appear that either Bennet or Martin moved into one of the homes; although both changed professions before long, By 1835 Bennet (perhaps having learned his new trade when constructing these houses) was living at No 2 Thames Street and listing himself as "carpenter." Asher Martin was working for the city as an "assessor" that year, and living at No. 200 Grand Street. The following year he received a promotion to City Collector of Assessments.

Bennet and Martin leased the houses until January 15, 1852 when they sold them as a package for $6,000, or about $65,300 each today. No. 28 became home to mason Garret Spear. The New Jersey native died in the Commerce Street house at the age of 56 on Sunday, November 27, 1859. His funeral was held in the parlor the following night.

Houses like this routinely had a secondary building in the rear--either stable, a small house, or a shop (like a carpenter or blacksmith shop). At the time of his death Spear was leasing the rear structure to brothers Charles and Gilliam B. Seely. Both men lived nearby--Charles at No. 89 Commerce Street and Gilliam at No. 104 Leroy Street.

They used the building for their "soda water factory," known as Seely & Brother. Using the address of 28-1/2 Commerce Street, they would manufacture and bottle soda water here for years. For a period it seems that the building doubled as both factory and stable for the company's delivery truck. On October 30, 1862 the brothers looked to replace one of the horses:

FOR SALE: A black horse, 16-3/4 hands high, short tail, very stylish and an excellent military horse; 5 years old, and a smart traveler; would make a good express or carriage horse, or fit for any use; warranted right every way. Apply at Seely's soda water manufactory, 28-1/2 Commerce street, near Bedford.

Two years later another horse was offered for sale by Seeley's, this one a "brown Hambletonian mare."

In the meantime, following Garret Spear's death No. 28 was operated as a rooming house. Isaac Laforge, a "cutter," was living here in 1861, as were Isaac and Helen M. Lafarge. Their marriage ended in divorce that year. J. Sullivan was renting a rented room in the house on August 19, 1863 when his name was pulled in the Union Army draft lottery.

The proprietor of the rooming house, like so many others, was reticent to rent to an unmarried woman. In 19th century New York, a female of questionable character could seriously damage the reputation of the house. An advertisement in The New York Herald on June 5, 1864 offered "To Let--A nicely furnished front room on second story, to a gentleman only."

The policy was still in place six years later. An advertisement on February 17, 1870 read "To Let--A nicely furnished attic room, to gentlemen only." The $2 per week rent would equal about $39 today.

The attic room was not the most comfortable. Not only did the tenant have to deal with its sloping ceiling. but in the days before air conditioning or central heat, it would have been stiflingly hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It was vacant again in 1871, and again in October 1872. The price remained the same.

The wooden clapboards are clearly visible in this 1932 photo by Charles Von Urban. A group of teen-aged girls have gathered on the sidewalk. Note that the parlor floor shutters of No. 26 are tightly closed. from the collection of the New York Public Library

At the time Timothy Colbert worked in a loft building at No. 107 Front Street, steps from the East River docks. In the years before elevators, open shaftways fitted with pulleys were used to hoist materials up and down. It was a dangerous system that repeatedly resulted in injuries and deaths. On July 1, 1873 The New York Times reported that the 38-year old Colbert had plummeted from the third floor to the basement, "and was seriously injured."

Seely & Brother was gone by May 1873 when the rear building seems to have been used as a livery stable. A patron who stored his buggies here offered them for sale that month. "Two splendid leather top (City made) buggies; good for city or country; price $200 each." Each would cost the potential buyer about $4,250 today.

The little house continued to house respectable, blue collar class families. The family of little Mamie Bogart lived here in 1888 when the fifth grader was enrolled in the newly-built Public School No. 8 on King Street.

The houses of the charming row, unexceptional in 1821, are highly-sought after today.

No. 28 received inside plumbing in 1925 and an interior alteration in 1935. The latter was no doubt in anticipation of renting unofficial apartments. The Department of Buildings caught up with the owner a year later, when a "Multiple Dwelling Violation" was issued.

Problems came again in 1999 when the little house was deemed an "unsafe building." The condition was corrected and No. 28 returned to life as a private family home. The owner, Richard Verrazzani, incurred the Department of Building's displeasure again, however. In 2010 he was cited for creating an illegal apartment in the basement.

Despite an occasional brush with the city, the appearance No. 28 and its 1821 neighbors are little changed. They create a picturesque snapshot of early 19th century Greenwich Village.

photographs by the author

The Dominick Neusch House - 15 Commerce Street

New York City Commerce Street , Federal architecture

The cast iron areaway railing was updated in the 1840's or '50's with an anthemion-themed Greek Revival design.

Perhaps no one was more involved in Greenwich Village's building boom of the 1820's than Charles Oakley. He constructed dozens of houses and shops, including a row of four Late Federal-style homes at Nos. 9 through 15 Commerce Street in 1826. Two and a half stories tall and 21-feet wide, they featured brownstone stoops above English basements and graceful but unpretentious decorative details.

The openings wore simple brownstone sills and lintels. The entrance of No. 15 featured paneled pilasters and narrow sidelights. One or two dormers would have originally pierced the slightly-peaked roof.

Susan Henshaw lived at No. 15 by 1834. The widow of William H. Henshaw, she would be the first of several widows to occupy the house. She died on February 25, 1844 at the age of 75. Interestingly, there was no mention in local newspapers of a funeral. Instead, the New-York Daily Tribune said only "Her remains will be taken to Greenwood Cemetery for interment this (Tuesday) afternoon at 3 o'clock, from her late residence No. 15 Commerce street."

The next occupant was William F. Godfrey. A city employee, he had the title of Superintendent of Carts. He was, as well, highly involved in local politics and in 1853 was chairman of the 9th Ward 22nd Council District. He held a meeting in the house on October 19 that year to nominate Aaron L. Deveau for the office of district councilman.

It was probably the last gathering in the Godfrey parlors. A week earlier he had placed an advertisement in The New York Herald that read "A piano for sale--A very fine toned instrument, 6-3/4 octaves compass, rosewood case, with round corners, almost new." The ad explained that the owner was moving and asked $175 for the instrument. It hinted at the Godfreys' high-end furnishings, the price equal to about $5,730 today.

Another widow moved into No. 15. As was common, she garnered extra money by renting out a room. On June 28, 1859 she advertised "A young American widow, without family, will let a furnished room to a gentleman and lady, without board or with board for lady only, or would accommodate one young lady."

It would appear her tenant opted for board, because three months later an advertisement sought "An intelligent Protestant woman (widow preferred) to do the general housework" and stressed the applicant "must be a good plain cook and first rate washer." Meals were the only amenity the boarder would received. The ad mentioned that the applicant would have "only one to wash for."

In March 1861 she was looking for a new boarder. "A young American widow, living alone and having more room than she requires, would let one Room or a Parlor and Bedroom, with breakfast if desired. House neat and location convenient."

Whether the young widow remarried soon after that ad, or if the house was rented to Louise Mortimer is unclear. In either case the Civil War would upend her domestic stability after her husband went off to fight, ending her income. She looked for a job in January 1862 as she prepared to give up the Commerce Street house.

"A lady, who is about breaking up housekeeping and whose husband is at the seat of war, would like to procure a situation as housekeeper in a gentleman's family; widower or bachelor preferred."

A subsequent advertisement only three months later revealed that Louise had received tragic news. "House wanted by a widow, without children."

The entrance is an understated example of the late Federal style.

Around the end of the war the house was procured by real estate operator John McClelland. Following his death his estate sold the property on April 3, 1875 to Dominick Neusch. He paid the equivalent of $132,000 today. Exactly one week later he filed plans to alter the dwelling.

The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported on April 10 that he had hired builders Steel & McLaughlin to add a full third story to the house. The alterations cost him $650, or about $15,000 today. The seamless addition copied the lower openings and featured an up-to-date Italianate cornice.

It may have been that John Laird was leasing the house when Neusch purchased it. In any event, his family was living here on April 17, 1876 when his widowed mother died. Her funeral was held in the house two days later.

Before long, however, the Neusch family had moved in, including daughters Magdalena and Emma. Dominick Neusch died in the house on New Year's Day, 1904 at the age of 77. The house was left to his unmarried daughters. Magdalena and Emma were still living here at late as 1917.

By the early 1920's Anthony DeVola leased the house from the Neusch family. In March 1922 he rented a room to Salatil S. Gupge. The 29-year old had left his native India about eight years earlier to pursue his education. He had been studying at the University of Illinois in Urbana.

The New York Times would later remark "Gupge, always well dressed and polished of manner, became a part of the home life of the DeVola's. Much of his time he spent in his room perusing books of a philosophical and religious nature. He seldom sought the companionship of women, though he was courteous and conversational whenever he came in contact with them."

Gupge's father. Sirnker Sitarus, was chief engineer in the town of Kholatur, near Bombay. The family was "distinguished" in the community. Gupge did not take his father's surname according to Hindu custom.

At around 11 on the morning of July 30, 1922, Gupge had not come down for breakfast. DeVola went to check on him and smelled gas while going up the stairs. The Times reported "His knock failed to bring a reply. DeVola broke in the door and found the young student fully clothed on the bed, with the windows closed and two gas jets open."

DeVola turned off the gas and opened the windows, and then tried to rouse Gupge while his son ran for a policeman. When an ambulance from St. Vincent's Hospital arrived, Gupge was pronounced dead.

Newspapers continually described Gupge as a "Hindu" and The New York Herald went even further by saying "a Hindu student of motion picture photography was found dead in bed yesterday in his room in a Hindu rooming house at 15 Commerce street."

An Urbana, Illinois newspaper was not glowing in its recollections of the dead man. "He was not a brilliant scholar, but was considered a 'plodder,' somewhat handicapped by his lack of knowledge of this country. There was nothing in his career here out of the ordinary. He was not known to have any women friends and had very few friends among the male students."

A number of sealed letters, apparently written just before his death, were turned over to the police, who deemed it a suicide. Others were not so sure. The New York Herald reported "Anthony De Vala [sic]...and Hindu friends of the dead man expressed the belief that it was an accident, as the jet was not turned on fully."

The Commerce Street block saw an unusual amount of foot traffic the following day. The New York Times reported on July 31, "The prominence of Gupge...among his own people was attested by the number of Hindu residents of the city who filed into the rooming house throughout the day and discussed the young man's death."

The last of the Neusch descendants to own No. 15 were Mrs. Beulah R. Morse and Mrs. Ida C. Nehb. On May 13, 1946 The Times reported "A dwelling in Greenwich Village that had been in the family of the sellers for seventy-two years passed to new hands." The women had sold it in an all-cash deal to "an investor."

Other than updating the plumbing that year, the new owner did not make any significant changes to the old house. One of the two renovations in 1953 and 1968 included the stuccoing of the facade. A gut renovation was begun in 2013 which resulted in what a realtor calls "a stylish, light and open plan." No trace of the historic interiors remain.