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Note: 151-g7Le7 Florence7 Huggins Leggett born August 12, 1863 in Cosy Nook, West Morrisania, Westchester (now Bronx) NY
died March 3, 1934 in Manhattan, NY City, buried in Woodlawn Cemetery Bronx, NY
marrried after 1902 to George Lesley
They had no children.
According to family history, in 1910 she was residing at 485 Central Park West, Manhattan; this is verified by the 1910 census (Enumeration District 1730), which shows her living there, occupation "Own Income" with a boarder by the name of Martha Pelton, 47, widow, and a West Indian servant, Emma Bloomfield, 24, who had emigrated in 1907.
According to a letter from her sister in law, by 1920 she was living in the Hotel Martha Washington on 29th Street and was only "friends" with Mr. Lesley, with no publicized marriage plans, and the 1920 census shows her there.
We await the release of the 1930 Census images to find out more about Mr. Lesley, whom she had to have married by that point.
After her death in 1934, her husband remarried, [no, apparently George Lesley never remarried; upon his burial in 1937, he is noted as "widower."] creating some problems in returning Leggett heirlooms to the family. According to Dorothy (Corbett) Wertz, those antiques had to be bought back from Mr. Lesley. She was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery.
Family records of the Rev. John M. Leggett and census records.
From a 28 December 1920 letter from her sister-in-law Josephine Louise (Morgan) Leggett in New York City to their mutual sister-in-law Kate Adelia Bagnall Leggett in Pittsburgh:
...Florence was here Christmas and her friend Mr. Leslie-she does not get here very often Too much of an undertaking she is living in the Martha Washington 29th st. She looks fine but didn't seem able to do very much...
No. 485 Central Park West (as of 1999). We know that Aunt Florence was living here in 1910. She most probably moved here after giving up the apartment at 129th and 5th, where she and her mother Sarah Maria (Huggins) Leggett moved in March 1900, and where Sarah Maria died on 13 February 1902. The building is a seven story red brick structure, with the typical indented light-well type of feature in front which lets more light into the apartments within and gives the building a double fronted appearance. It is still a handsome building. The lobby is quite modest, with an attractive mosaic floor. It appears that the building was probably originally a walkup, with small open stairwells, into which very small elevators were later installed. This building is located on the corner of Central Park West and West 109th Street, with a subway entrance (A-C and B-D Trains) right up against its 109th Street side. The original buildings just to the north around the circle at Cathedral Parkway (110th Street) have been obliterated by new construction.
Source:
St. Paul’s K Street Choir and Leggett History Tour
to New York City 18-21 June 1999
David J. Leggett, Julia H. C. Leggett
and son William H. S. Leggett (in utero)
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Letter No. 22 of Florence's father, Thomas B. Leggett to his granddaughter, child of Florence's brother, Edward. This is the last letter of which we have any knowledge. All such surviving letters may be found by consulting the chart under the Notes for Thomas:
293 Lenox Ave.
New York
April 12, 1893.
Wednesday
Mary H. Leggett
My dear Granddaughter, I will now endeavor to make good my promise to you, when you were last in the city, to finish out the continuation of my last letter of February 18th. In doing this, you may find certain parts of it, where I speak of opera and music, as quite incomprehensible, and in no way interesting to you. But one of these days, when you are a little older, and have read a little more, and seen more of the world, you will better understand what I am writing about, and then you will be very glad that I have directed your attention in this direction in mentioning to you some of the operas and overtures of the great masters.
I will preface my letter by saying that your father, [Edward Howard Leggett, (1845-1927)] when a little boy, was a sturdy, tough little chap. He would run and play all day and never be tired. When but a few years old, I would walk him up and down the room in the evening, just as fast as he could go, hoping to get him well tired out, so he would want to go to bed and asleep, but no, not so, for every time, I was the one tired out, and he would want more of that kind of fun. He was so enduring, he would tire out all his young playfellows.
Will you now walk over the road to the Hummock, up the lawn and so to the house? Do you notice how wide the road is, and how smooth, and what an easy, gentle rise there is all the way to the house? I call your particular attention to this large iron gate, which opens into the Hummock grounds. We all think it is very solid looking. What do you think of those gate posts? Each one is a solid block of granite. Each required six horses, pulling a great wagon, having wheels eight feet high, to bring each of these stones from the quarry.
I will now relate the sad accident which happened to a horse at this gate. As I said before, it was a very heavy gate, having strong, pointed rods on the top. My brother Edward, [Edward Wright Leggett, (1821-1865)] whose place was next to mine, had, the day before, purchased a very fine horse, for which he had paid four hundred dollars. He was a noble looking animal and a real beauty. The coachman had taken him out of the stall, and was in the act of reaching for the head-stall to put it on him, when he took fright at some little thing, jumped aside, ran out the stable door, over the lawn and turned the corner into the road leading to the Hummock, making directly for this large and heavy iron gate, which, at the time, was closed. As the gate was painted white, we suppose he did not see it, since he held his head high in the air. He ran against the gate with all his power and weight, striking it near the center, and forcing it open just enough to push himself part way through, when his neck, striking the sharp pointed rods on the top, cut his throat completely through. However, he ran up the road, over the lawn, the blood running in streams from his neck and turned into the open shed by the stable, where he soon dropped to the ground and bled to death. It was all done so quickly, that before it was generally known where he was or what had happened, he was dead. We all felt very sad over this unfortunate affair and great loss, but it was one of those strange tragedies of life, which will sometimes happen and which we are powerless to prevent.
Now look at the driveway from the gate up to the house. For we think it is worth admiring. The curves and turns are so perfect, and the road itself is so wide and perfectly smooth. Do you notice the great variety of trees all about the lawn. If we had the time, I could show you some very rare and beautiful specimens. Did you ever reflect what a beautiful work of nature is a tree? There is nothing more wonderful. Trees stand up so strong and straight, with their great branches stretching far out, and all supported by the roots far down in the ground. There is nothing in all nature more wonderful and beautiful than a tree. Every part of it is a study, and perfect of itself.
But here we come to the house. Don’t you think it has a homelike, comfortable and pleasant look. Now stop a moment and look at this circle. It is the full forty feet width of the front of the house, and, as you see, is raised very much in the center, sloping gradually off. I question if you ever saw a more artistic and ornamental vase than the one which is in the center of the circle. During the summer season it is full of myrtle, which grows so luxuriantly and looks like one solid bank of green, the long tendrils reaching down from the top of the vase and sweeping the ground at the bottom.
The house is 36 x 40 feet square. You can measure this much off on your lot. Then you will know exactly how much ground it covers. It is three stories high with full basement. The entrance from the driveway is on a stoop twelve feet square, with two fluted columns standing on each end and supporting the roof. Through double glass doors you enter into a good sized square room called a vestibule. The effect as you enter the square vestibule is very pleasant. The large double front doors of stained glass give a very cheerful light to the room. From the center piece you notice there hangs a large bronze hall lamp, also of colored glass. On the right of this vestibule there stands an orchestral organ, a large and substantial piece of mahogany furniture. I certainly must say a word of this self acting orchestral organ, for at that time, it was about the only one that was ever seen in this country, being equal in power to a full band composed of trumpets, flutes, clarinets, violins, violincellos, hautboys, cornets, trombones and other instruments. It plays overtures from the operas as well as marches and waltzes.
I will tell you the names of some of the overtures. If you wish to know more of them, you can read up on the subject, and find what the subjects were. I will just say to you that an opera is a "musical drama consisting of airs, choruses, recitations and enriched with beautiful scenery and other decorations, representing some passionate action—" An overture is a musical composition for a full instrumental band of both brass and string instruments, including often harp, drums, etc. I will now speak of the overtures this organ played. Fra Diabolo, from the opera of that name. Fra Diabolo was a chief of a band of desperadoes or brigands of Calabria. This beautiful opera was composed and written by Auber, a most finished composer.
Figaro, or the Barber of Seville was a Valet-de-chambre, a great intriguer, a go-between, an adroit and unscrupulous person. This beautiful opera was composed by Rossini, who was born in 1792, the greatest composer of his age. He wrote, during his lifetime, over forty operas, this one, Figaro ranking among his best pieces.
Der Freishutz, from the opera of that name. Der Freishutz was a legendary hunter or marksman of Germany, who was supposed to be in league with the devil, by whom he was supplied with silver bullets which could not miss their mark. This opera was written in 1821 by Von Weber, and considered his chef d’ouvre.
Masaniello from the opera of that name. Masaniello was a fisherman of Amalfi, and also the leader of the revolt in Naples.
Oberon, from the opera of that name. Oberon was a king of the fairies
and an elfin dwarf, who with his wife Tatania roamed all over India. Zauberflote, from the opera of that name. This was supposed to be a magic flute.
Hallelujah Chorus, or Praise ye the Lord, one of the forms of the Doxology, used in the Catholic Church.
In addition to all these, it played waltzes, polkas, etc. Among the marches was that grand old one from the tragic opera, Norma, composed by Berlioz in 1831. It also played with grand effect that celebrated hymn, the Marseillaise, which, during the French Revolution in 1792, set all Paris wild with enthusiasm, and which, to this day, cannot be sung in the streets of the French capital without creating intense excitement. This stirring, thrilling and fiery hymn was written by a young man named deLisle during the days of the dreadful French Revolution.
Among the waltzes were quite a number composed by Johann Strauss. Strauss waltzes are world known for their exquisite and perfect melody. There were three brothers by the name Strauss, all born in Vienna, and among them, they composed over 1100 compositions of dance music.
This organ was worked by machinery made of brass and steel, the power being an iron weight of 480 pounds, attached to a rope made of catgut. This rope was thirty feet long. One large bellows supplied the pipes with wind, and this bellows in turn was kept filled by six smaller ones. When wound up, the organ would play for an hour and ten minutes. There is much more which could be told of this self action organ, but perhaps you are not yet old enough to understand or be interested, so I will say no more about it.
From the vestibule of the house, stained glass doors opened into the library, parlor, dining room, and also into another hall, where were the winding stairs leading to the upper floors, as well as the basement. Off this side hall was the Butler’s pantry and china closet. The two parlors comprised all the forty foot front of the house, with sliding doors and large bay windows at either end. Sash doors opened from the parlor on to a piazza extending the full forty foot front of the house. It was twelve feet wide and had a charming view of the East River. This was one of the most delightful piazzas of a summer afternoon one could wish for, being very wide, nicely shaded, with ample room for large easy chairs, hammock and a large spy glass on a moveable stand, always ready to spy anything to be seen at a distance. I will not speak further of the house than to say that the upper part was very comfortable, having several good sized rooms, with hot and cold water in all the sleeping rooms, bath, closet, bells and speaking tubes. At the time I built this house, forty years ago [1852], there were very few country houses that had these comforts.
The view of the river from the upper stories was very fine indeed, the house standing well up on high ground, one could look far away up and down the water, and when the wind was blowing strongly with a heavy sea, we could feel the spray on our faces while sitting on the front piazza. It was a grand sight to see a full rigged ship, directly in front of the house, all her twenty-five foot sails set to the wind, and bowling along through the rough water, dashing the waves from her bows.
This China court or yard, so nicely flagged and so out of sight, is for drying clothes, and this winding walk leads to the garden. This garden was my pride, being very artistically laid out with terraces, hedges, and rustic seats. That pretty little house which you see at the foot of the garden, is the gardener’s cottage. Do you notice those pretty arches over the corners of the walk, all covered with roses and running vines. We think them very picturesque and a great feature to the appearance of the garden. I have often thought, when standing on the upper terrace of this garden and looking around and about me, it could well be supposed to be in fairy-land.
Will you walk down these steps at the foot of the garden? They lead us to the chicken house and the out-buildings. The chicken house, which I planned myself, and of which I am very proud, I have previously written about in a letter to Howard, so will not allude to it further in this letter; nor will I speak of the stable, carriage house and other out-buildings as I fear they will not interest you. You see I have turkeys and ducks, as well as chickens and pigeons. That very large duck you see waddling about and looking so independent, is a fine specimen of the Muscovy breed of South America. He is a queer old fellow, and feels himself master of the yard, keeping much to himself but insists on being boss of the old gobbler and large rooster, and what is more strange, roosts in the trees. The boys call him "Old Turk", and do not like him, for he will often run after them and chase them out of the chicken yard, and in fact they are dreadfully afraid of him.
Suppose we follow this pretty winding walk as it runs all along the banks of the shore, well shaded from the sun all the way. The tide is now full and a big swell appears to be on, with the waves running high and dashing up on the banks in fine style. This will attract the sea gulls, and you will see how gracefully they skim the crest of the waves. You must also be on the watch for the little yellow legged snipe running along the meadows of the little creek, picking up their food. They are pretty and graceful, but very wild. We are now on the extreme end of the hummock, and on this point I have many times sat on the rocks and watched the large cranes with their long, thin legs and longer necks and spike like bill, standing patiently in the water of the creek, watching for a fish to swim by. There they would stand by the hour, so still and quiet, you would certainly think them asleep or dead, when suddenly as quick as thought, their long necks would go down in the water, and the next moment be high in the air with a fish in the beak, making every effort to wriggle the fish down its long neck and throat. Then the crane would again take up its silent position and wait by the hour until, its hunger fully satisfied, it would slowly, and with much difficulty, rise up in the air, flying off to hide in the sedge grass and there sleep off its gourmandizing meal. The crane is a very unsocial bird, seldom seen with a companion, living silently and alone, and in the most secluded places in the marshes along the salt water rivers.
Suppose we sit for a while on this rustic seat and rest ourselves, and while you are enjoying yourself looking over the water and rough sea watching the gulls gracefully skimming the waves, I will tell you a story, which, at the time it happened to me, was most exciting and thrilling.
One day, when I was a very small boy, I was making a visit to my grandfather. This was in 1828, now sixty four years ago. My father then lived on Broadway, near Spring Street. I was at my grandfather’s house for the benefit of my health, and under the care of my [step] Aunt Elizabeth Leggett [(1809-1835), never-married daughter of Thomas Leggett, (1755-1843) and his second wife, Mary Underhill, (1770-1849)] my grandfather’s youngest and only unmarried daughter. Aunt Elizabeth was always good and kind to me, so I felt perfectly satisfied and contented to be with her. One morning I was on the driveway at the front of the house with my little wheelbarrow and wooden shovel, working very hard at shoveling up dirt, picking up little stones and putting them in the wheelbarrow. Chickens and young turkeys were all about me, each busy hunting for bugs and worms. Aunt Elizabeth was sitting by the second story window, sewing and keeping an eye on me that no harm should come to me. I was happy and contented, and just in the act of sitting down on my wheelbarrow to rest, when my attention was drawn to the chickens and turkeys, which suddenly commenced to run about, cackling at a great rate, and hiding their heads under the bushes. I thought this was intensely funny and was much interested in watching them. First one would run under a bush and hide its head, then another would come and crowd the first one out, who in turn would rush for another bush, all the time making a peculiar frightened sort of cackle. Just over in the next lot there came running at full speed, a large flock of sheep and lambs. Crowding close to the fence, they appeared much excited and frightened, making a painful, bleating noise, crowding close to the fence, and keeping their lambs between them. Sitting where I was, I could see the old sheep keeping the little lambs in the middle of the flock and constantly looking up in the air, crowding and pushing each other closer to the fence, bleating all the while in the most frightened manner. At this moment one of the young colored girls came running from the kitchen, calling out in a loud, sharp voice, "An eagle, an eagle is after the lambs", and began to drive in all haste the chickens and turkeys toward the barn. In a moment Aunt Elizabeth came running out the door, catching me up in her arms, and ran back into the house with me, all out of breath. She then told me there was a large eagle up in the air, which sometimes might carry off little boys or girls, but this time she was fearful it might steal away one of the larger lambs, as he was a bird of great size. I looked out the window, and sure enough, there was a great eagle high up in the air, soaring about in a large circle. I watched that eagle for a long time. At one time he would be almost out of sight, then he would suddenly let himself fall, and as suddenly check himself, and again fly at lightning speed, rising high up in the air, always keeping in a great circle. Soon I noticed that he approached closer and closer to the ground, his circles growing smaller as he approached the ground. The sheep now took a sudden fright and started full speed for another part of the field as if they were conscious of something about to happen to them. Just then Grandfather came into the house, saying he had seen this large eagle hovering over the lot where the sheep were feeding, and as none of the men were in sight, he thought to drive them home himself, since the sheep were badly frightened and the eagle exceedingly bold. However he did not think it prudent at his age, he being then 75 years old, to risk a battle with such a large and ferocious bird, and had made straight for the house.
We now all went to the piazza to have a good look at the eagle, and watch his movements. It was most interesting and exciting to see this great bird maneuver about in the upper air, so graceful were its movements with such strength of body and power of wing. One moment he would be but a speck far up in the clouds, the next he would swoop down and drop as if he were dead, suddenly checking his fall and again flying around in a circle which grew smaller and smaller. Then he appeared perfectly motionless in the air, when he suddenly dropped to the ground, caught a poor little lamb in his great claws, and away he flew, far up and off to the dense forest. We could see the poor little lamb as the eagle held it by its back with his long slender legs hanging down and his head so limp, all the time bleating and bleating with all its might for its mother, until he was far out of sight and sound. We all felt so sorry for the poor little thing which was to be so soon tormented by the young eagles and literally torn to pieces by them and devoured, as we might say, alive.
You, of course, have often seen eagles while you were at Lake George, but I am inclined to think they were of a smaller size, and not the dangerous kind having the power to carry off a good sized lamb. When I was a boy, these savage warriors of the largest size were often to be seen in Westchester County. They are in every sense an ignoble bird of prey, very powerful and daring, with strong legs, sharp talons and most dangerous for a man to encounter in single combat, for a single blow from their wing would instantly kill a person, and with their powerful talons one would soon be torn to pieces. For them to fly off and away with a lamb, goose or turkey firmly held in their powerful claws was a daily occurrence, and they were much dreaded by all the residents about. My grandfather’s extensive woods of sixty years ago were particularly infested with these powerful, wicked and much dreaded birds. So savage were they at times that they would not hesitate to attack a man who might interfere with them in obtaining their plunder. What I have now related to you of the habits and ways of the eagle, I saw with my own eyes. The whole scene of that day made such an impression on me at the time, that I have never forgotten it. All this state of affairs was changed years ago because the eagles, bears and wolves have disappeared from all the settled parts of our country, I suppose for ever. The extensive woods have been cut away, the ground cleaned up, the swamps drained off and made into dry ground, houses have been erected, fences built, and peace and quiet reigns supreme. The changes which have taken place in our country, and the improvements made in every direction during the past sixty years is almost beyond our calculations of thought.
I have now written you what I suppose you will consider a very long letter, so if it proved to you both dull and stupid, I can only say that I am sorry, but cannot help it. I assure you it has been the means of consuming some little time and patience in writing, some little thought in composing it. If, however, it affords you any pleasure in reading it over, and you are able to draw any instruction from its contents, I shall feel well rewarded for my labor. I feel myself safe in saying that many things about which I have been writing you, may not at the time interest you, but they will have gone into your memory, and one of these days, they will come up to you from time to time as the occasion will call them out, and be the means of leading and directing your thoughts to subjects of which you might not otherwise think.
I am your Grandfather,
Thomas B. Leggett
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Florence was living here in 1920:
Village Voice
Week of November 10 - 16, 1998
Towers & Tenements
by J. A. Lobbia
'Suitable Males' Allowed At Women's SRO
Martha Washington Goes Coed
Claiming that it is illegal to bar tenants based on gender, the Hotel Martha Washington on East 30th Street is open to men for the first time in its 95-year history. But tenants at the single-roomoccupancy hotel- including women who are elderly, disabled, and seeking respite from abuse- say the move is simply a real estate ploy designed to frighten them away and enhance profits.
"What they want to do is promote the tourist industry, but by doing that they're denying affordable housing for New York City residents," says Arlene Edwards, who is in her thirties and has lived in the Martha Washington for five years. "They want to do a gut renovation and charge outrageous prices for overnight stays."
In mid September, management sent women residents a memo saying they would be sharing the hotel, where most tenants use common bathrooms, with "suitable males" beginning October 1. The 12-story SRO, wedged between Murray Hill and Gramercy Park, has 469 rooms and about 150 permanent tenants. So far, about a dozen men have stayed at the hotel, in rooms with private baths. Long-term plans would segregate bathrooms by sex.
A real estate firm called Property Markets Group (PMG) reportedly bought the Martha Washington for $18.5 million in 1997. ...
When the Hotel Martha Washington opened in 1903, its status as a women's residence was a draw. A faded sign on the building's 29th Street wall announces that it is restricted to women, though it once housed a restaurant that welcomed men. Even now, its stationery and bills are emblazoned with the words "Exclusively for Women." Men are not allowed in rooms- "not even a doctor, not even a priest," says one elderly tenant.
...
Whether an SRO hotel like the Martha Washington is indeed legally bound to admit men is in doubt. Both city and state laws permit single-sex dwellings in some circumstances, including those where bathrooms are shared. Federal law also permits some leeway for single-sex hotels.
...
One Martha Washington tenant, who insisted on being identified only as Alice and who described her age as "over 70," has not paid rent since January; she recently received a demand from Avid for $4800. "I haven't paid because my windows don't fit and there's always a tremendous breeze in here," says Alice. "There was no heat yesterday, and it takes 20 minutes to get the water for the tub just to be lukewarm."
Alice moved to the hotel nearly seven years ago, and fears that PMG's plans will replicate her experience at another famous formerly all-female residence, the Barbizon. She lived there for five years before old-time tenants were run out by new owners who turned it into a tourist hotel; for six months, Alice was the sole resident of the 15th floor. With the Barbizon, the Allerton, and now the Martha Washington open to men, Manhattan's only remaining all-women's residences are affiliated with religious institutions or schools.
"Many of the hotel's permanent residents are there because they had been abused by the men in their lives," Edwards wrote in her security analysis. "The Hotel Martha Washington's 'Exclusively for Women' policy proved to be their safe haven."
But, in some ways, claims of safety at the Martha Washington are out of place. Tenants have complained that employees under prior management stole from their rooms, for example, and that exterior stairwells were used for prostitution. Even now, drug dealing and violence are not unheard of. In March, some unstable tenants used knives and screwdrivers to hack away at other tenants' doors. Some residents, like Alice, have turned complaints over to the Manhattan District Attorney's office, and police may begin to patrol inside the hotel.
Some of the most blatant criminal activity took place in the early '90s, when the club Danceteria rented space in the hotel's lobby; drug use was rampant. Danceteria was eventually replaced by the Melting Pot, where in 1994 eight clubgoers were wounded when gunshots prompted a stampede onto 29th Street.
In fact, the clubs are proof that profound transformations are not new to the Martha Washington; accommodating men might be just one more evolution. The space formerly known as the Melting Pot is now occupied by a mosque.
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