New-York tribune., 1922-10-09
Motor e. Siren Sounding Knell
of Old Lord Abingdon's House
.s, % hise Where for 200 Years Creen,xc,,
- nage Mansion Has Watched American H;story
uc ocene of Draft Riot Murder in Civil Wa,

Movers had blcssomed befor. ~ -
were s,, taller and more imposing than ths
olo mouse, which had seemed in ita dav =
veritable mansion. Smaller ho,,sas
700, nuiit like country cottages. mn
Peared. District further up town wsr
Delng developed. There was q new
ssagecoach line along Eighth Avenue
ana one might ride in state to shon
aIohg Grand Street. The stables were
lar ,.l up town, at what is nov the Grand
.Trpera .rp House, on Eighth Avenue and
IWenty-third Street.
A Scene Of Draft Riot
The Civil War broke out. In the
Abingdon house, which had been rented
to Captain Walton Cable. negro p;rl
her last name was Green-the mat
OF the Gable family, was thrown down =
flight of stairs and her neck broken bv
q group of men who were protesting
the draft law. Riots were common
ana the rumble Of protesting voices
noated in through the tail windows
that opened from the floor to the CELL
ing. The captains son, Sanford, was a
small boy then, too young for the war
out brave sympathizer who could
wave flag and shout at parades.
In later years. Captain Cable. to-
gether with Commodore Vanderbilt
and George Law, owned steamship
line that piled along the river to trans
fer points. When Sanford Cable grew
to be man he married young woman
who lived in the village on Hammond
Street, which is now West Eleventh
Street.
They havc made their home ever
since in the same house where Captain
Gable and Lord and Lady Abingdon had
lived. The street had changed in the
mean time. Before their doors street.
car changed. Across the street the
small cottages had given way to red
brick buildings. The slaughter house
at the corner of Bleecker and Bank
streets no longer lured the children on
their way4home from school to listen to
the weird, almost human, shrieks of
doomed animals. The marble works, at
Bleecker and Hudson, where huge
saws suspended from the ceiling cut
the snowy stone, disappeared.
Swept Round by Alien Flood
With the tenement houses that rose
on the lots in the neighborhood came
flocks Of foreigners, with no knowledge
of the traditions of the street and no
respect for it's dignifed silence. To-
day in West Tenth Street little Italian
boys, freed for the day from the
shackles OF school, whir along the side
walks on roller skates. Their mothers
hold the newest babies in their arms,
while the next youngest cling to the
voluminous maternal skirts. In
Bleecker Street greengrocers Of an
alien tongue sing the praises of squash
and beans. Around the corner, from
the grating along the street, the
thunder of the subway is heard, while
stale warm air escapes from the open
ings.
No. 1876 West Tenth Street is al
most lost between two bigger buildings
that seem intent on crowding it out Of
existence. Soon, however, it and one
of those houses will be demolished for
the newest type Of garage, with white
washed driveway. The black marble
fireplaces are "solid as rocks" says
Sanford Gable, "and will live an age"
but will tumble at last, taking with them
visions of shrocadsd skirts and satin
knee breeches.