photo by Alice Lum |
In 1862 Stewart spent an astronomical $2.5 million dollars—about
$45 million today—to erect an uptown branch on Broadway extending back to
Fourth Avenue along 10th Street.
His 6-story cast iron structure, designed by John Kellum, was built to
be fireproof and the new technology allowed larger window area and, therefore,
increased daylight inside.
The gargantuan store became known as the Iron Palace and The
New York Tribune called the two buildings “the proudest monuments of commercial
enterprise in the country.” In 1870 the
store was enlarged, now filling the entire block from 10th to 9th
Street.
The original, extended building covered the entire block in 1870 -- NYPL Collection |
Stewart died in 1876 but the A. T. Stewart & Co. store
on Broadway and 10th Street continued on for six years. Hilton, Hughes & Co. took over the
operation in 1882 but failed four years later.
In November 1896 Philadelphia retailer John Wanamaker opened his New
York operation in the building. And if
Alexander Stewart thought big, John Wanamaker thought bigger.
Almost immediately Wanamaker began buying up lots on the
block south of the store. By the end of
1902 he had successfully obtained the entire block from 8th to 9th
Street, Broadway through 4th Avenue.
The New York Times announced on December 21 “The entire site…is now in
Mr. Wanamaker’s control and it is assumed that the erection of the new building
will not be deferred for any length of time.”
The newspaper noted that the proposed, block-encompassing
structure, would require the demolition of multiple buildings, including the
Germania Theatre on 8th Street.
“Some of these buildings are modern, substantially built structures,
notably the one at the northeast corner of Broadway and Eighth Street.”
The Annex doubled the height of the original Stewart store in the foreground -- Wanamaker's The Store of New York, 1916 - copyright expired |
A year later construction started on the immense 12-story
emporium designed by the Chicago architectural firm D. H. Burnham & Co. It would take three years for the structure
to be completed. The stately Italian
Renaissance building clad in terra cotta cost $3.5 million. It was the
product of three years of research into department store design throughout the
United States and Europe. The old
Stewart building was connected to the “Annex” by an enclosed bridge, called The
Bridge of Progress, and a tunnel under 9th Street.
The Bridge of Progress linked the two stores -- Wanamaker's The Store of New York, 1916 - copyright expired |
The original building was now used for women’s merchandise
only; the new building sold menswear, and furnishings and decorations for
the home. The New-York Tribune on April
22, 1906 called the new structure “one of the most elaborately fitted up and
furnished department stores in the United States, if not in the world.” It would be a store like no other.
An enormous rotunda rose through the height of the building
with a grand “horseshoe stairway” leading up to the second floor. On this floor pianos and organs were
displayed in period-decorated rooms. “For
instance,” reported The Tribune, “the Emerson room is decorated in Louis XIV
style, while the Knabe room is in the Flemish style. All the decorations are in keeping in each
room, even including the chandeliers and furniture. There are rooms decorated in Louis XV, Louis
XVI, Moorish, Renaissance and Empire, as well as Old Dutch.”
The sumptuous Rotunda rose through the center of the store. The carpeted Horseshoe Stairway accessed the second floor. Wanamaker's The Store of New York, 1916 - copyright expired |
The combined old and new buildings now offered the shopper a
full thirty-two acres of floor space. The store required a staff of 5,000 to 8,000
employees depending on the season. But
the additional conveniences, not necessarily related to shopping, were even
more impressive. There was a Guides’ Office where confused
shoppers could procure a personal guide to “conduct visitors about the store and to
serve the shopper in every possible way,” as pointed out in Wanamaker's 1916 New
York, Metropolis of the World, brochure.
The booklet added that “The entire Wanamaker store is dotted with quiet
places for the comfort and convenience of guests. Writing desks, rest rooms and retiring rooms
are conveniently distributed, and are welcome place for rest when one slightly
tires of shopping.”
The restaurant could feed 1,000 tired shoppers -- Wanamaker's The Store of New York, 1916 - copyright expired |
For those “slightly tired of shopping,” there was also the
auditorium. With a seating capacity of
1,300 and rising three stories it was one of the largest theaters in New York. Murals were painted by Frederick K.Frieseke,
of the Societe Nationale des Beaux Arts of Paris. Here the Austin organ not only had 64 stops,
but two chimes of bells, a snare drum, kettle drums, cymbals and triangle. Free, nearly daily concerts were offered for
shoppers.
There were also a golf school, a restaurant capable of
serving over 1,000, a telegraph service, a post office, theater ticket office,
railroad ticket office, Red Cross Headquarters, and hair salon. To give homeowners ideas on decorating, a
two-story house was incorporated into the store. The Wanamaker booklet described The House
Palatial as “containing twenty-four rooms designed in correct period or modern
style, and every room in the house obviously different in character, although
all help to make up a harmonious whole.
It represents the best of the house designing, furnishing and decorative
arts.” More than a million people every
year visited The House Palatial.
A room in The House Palatial in 1916 -- Wanamaker's The Store of New York, 1916 - copyright expired |
In the basement was a subway station—a supreme convenience
for shoppers. The Meridien Morning
Record said “…the Subway train sets you down in Wanamaker’s. You may come in a driving rainstorm and not
get a drop of water at any point—no need to carry an umbrella or wear a
raincoat…It has revolutionized the convenience of shopping.”
The up-to-date features of the building proved themselves
when a small fire broke out near the pipe organ in the auditorium on March 16,
1918. The automatic alarm and sprinkler
system were set off and The Times reported that “the fire was out before fire
apparatus arrived.”
Three stories high, the Auditorium was decorated with frescoes -- Wanamaker's The Store of New York, 1916 - copyright expired |
On April 24, 1928 the section of 9th Street between
Broadway and 4th Avenue that separated the old and new Wanamaker
buildings was renamed by the Board of Aldermen to Wanamaker Place. The gesture was in honor of the public
services of the late Rodman Wanamaker; however it also paid tribute to the
gargantuan retail establishment that straddled the street.
By the middle of the 20th century the shopping
district had moved northward. Rather
than move with it, Wanamaker decided in 1954 to simply close the business. Although 1,500 unionized employees voted unanimously
to try to purchase the business as a partnership with the help of investment
bankers, the venture did not materialize.
photo by Alice Lum |
The upper floors were lavished with elaborate terra cotta detailing -- photo by Alice Lum |
As for Alexander Stewarts magnificent Iron Palace of a
century earlier, plans were set to demolish it. But before the wreckers could start, a fire
broke out. John Kellum’s fireproof
structure proved to be that. The flames
raged out of control for a full 24-hours before firefighters were able to
extinguish it. Afterwards, surrounding the gutted
remains, the noble cast iron façade still stood.
After the ruins were removed an uninspiring white-brick
apartment building was constructed in its place in 1960. The 21-story structure was named with a nod
to the original store—the Stewart House.
The terra cotta-clad annex survives as an office building -- photo by Alice Lum |
Today all the thoughts
of organ concerts in a splendid auditorium, an Oriental Shop that sold “mandarin
embroideries and fascinating bronzes,” and the Burlington Arcade that reproduced
the arcade in Piccadilly, London are gone. The lone reminder of the once-magnificent department store is the green-and-white street sign on the corner: Wanamaker Place.
Actually, there is one huge original column that has been exposed and lovingly restored in an otherwise forlorn corner of the Kmart. It's on the second floor at the corner of 8th and Lafayette. Here's a pic: https://www.instagram.com/p/BPEeWp2DpkH/
ReplyDeleteVery nice !! A note of clarification: the 'Rotunda' pictured - with the "horseshoe" stairway - was in the older building; the atrium in the newer building - wherein the pianos resided - was rather plain .
ReplyDeletehttps://www.amazon.com/Golden-Book-Wanamaker-Stores-Jubilee/dp/B000IHT1JQ
Thanks for the clarification
DeleteWas there a toy monorail for kids to ride at this NY Wanamakers also. I have seen comments from people elsewhere stating this store also had one alone with philly.
ReplyDeleteI have not seen that mentioned in any of the Wanamaker marketing brochures about the building.
Deletethe momorail is discussed in this video:
ReplyDeletehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uW-AeI4q6Q&list=WL&index=689
On top of the Wanamaker's annex was placed two gigantic antennas. They were part of a Marconi Wireless transmitting Station that was the most powereful station on the East Coast. From there shoppers and others could send messages to Passenger Liners at sea and to other points via wireless radio. On the fateful night of April 15, 1912 a young radio operator, who grew up on the Lower East Side, David Sarnoff began to receive messages from another station at Cape Race that the RMS Titanic had struck an Iceberg and was sinking. Later he began to get the message that the ship had indeed sunk and began to receive messages about those saved and lost in the disaster. As the story goes he remained at the station for two days receiving this information and passing it on to the press.
ReplyDeleteThis same David Sarnoff went on to found RCA and NBC. He was a visionary in the development of voice radio and in the late 1920s supported the development of television.