photo by Alice Lum |
On the first day of July in 1885 Julius Munckwitz resigned
his position as Architect of the Department of Public Parks. Born in Leipzig, Germany, he had spent
several years working with Parks Commissioner and co-designer of Central Park
Frederick Law Olmsted in designing useful and pleasing public parks
buildings. Perhaps his salary cut in
1881—from $3,000 to $1,500—contributed to his decision; but he now turned his
attention to individual commissions, several of them in Greenwich Village.
By the last decade of the century the neighborhood from the
Hudson River to Hudson Street was almost entirely industrial. In 1892 Munckwitz was hired by Simon Adler
and Henry S. Herrman to design an expansive stables building at Nos. 704 and
706 Greenwich Street. The men had been
partners in an insurance company, Adler & Herrman, since 1887, but they
were familiar with speculative real estate development. The highly-active Herrman was not only
President of the Union Exchange Bank of New York and a Director of the
Montefiore Home for Chronic Invalids, he was a vice-president of the Hudson
Realty Company.
The resulting four-story building was intended for use by a commercial delivery firm with additional income provided by cheap housing or
offices on the upper floors. Completed
in 1893, it was an attractive while undeniably utilitarian structure. Munckwitz sat the structure on a base of
rough-cut stone trimmed in dressed brownstone.
Two massive sets of double carriage doors were separated by long,
slender square-headed windows and flanked on either side by arched openings.
The upper three brick stories were neatly separated by
brownstone bandcourses, and continuous stone lintels—treated differently at each
level—ran the width of the structure.
Shortly after the building’s completion the Real Estate
Record and Builders’ Guide reported that, on December 27, 1893, the stables was
sold by “Simon Adler and Henry S. Herrman to Mary J. Edwards,” for $60,000. A wealthy widow, Mary Edwards was a member of the
Colonial Dames of America and held real estate throughout the city.
Her first commercial tenant here was the Baker Transfer Co.,
owned by Jessie F. Baker. The delivery
firm operated here for five years before falling into financial
problems. In 1901 the Crosby Transfer
Co. moved its operation into the building.
The rough neighborhood caused the company headaches in the form of horse thieves.
In June 1907 the problem had become epidemic, overwhelming the police
force. The manager of
Crosby Transfer told a reporter from The New York Times “In the last six months
there has been such an amount of horse stealing that the police records of the
last six years cannot measure up to it.”
The latest incident involved a shipment of decorative Asian
household goods headed for Vantine & Co. on Broadway. “In this case horse, truck, and goods were
stolen, and our hope is that the goods on the truck—two cases of Japanese
umbrellas and bamboo porch shades belonging to Vantine & Co.—were sufficient
to appease the thieves, and that they turned the horse and truck adrift,” he
said.
The manager expressed his frustration at the ineptitude of
the police. “They hang ‘em out West, but
we don’t even catch ‘em here…The old custom was to drive off a truck, dispose of
the contents, and then let the horse prowl about until the police picked it up
or some one brought it back for a reward.
But of late the thieves have not been content with disposing of the
goods in the stolen trucks. They have repainted
the trucks, sold them, and sold the horses also. They seem to have ‘fences’ in the suburbs, where
they can manage to dispose of horse, truck, and contents.”
The bold thefts were taking place in broad daylight at the
crowded Hudson River piers. “The
business is so heavy at these points that frequently the drivers have to leave
their teams outside and walk up the piers to get their consignments rather than
wait in line, tiring out their horse and themselves by long stretches of inactivity,”
explained The Times. When the driver
would return, his entire rig was often missing.
The newspaper advised the trucking firms like Crosby
Transfer to buy insurance. “It is not
only usual, but safe, to insure your teams against depredators of the wild and
wooly Western type.”
The elevated train of the Manhattan Railway Company had been
running up Greenwich Street since 1891; and the noisy overhead contraptions and
the skittish horses below were not always a happy mix. On the night of March 22, 1909 little 8-year
old Nora Dacey and her 3-year old brother were standing on the sidewalk near
the corner of West 10th and Greenwich Streets when a train passed overhead. The children lived nearby at No. 273 West 10th.
Down the block at Crosby Transfer a horse which was standing
harnessed to a truck was spooked by the train.
The frightened steed galloped down the sidewalk towards the children
with the heavy truck in tow. A neighbor,
Minnie Kelly of No. 169 Perry Street, saw the impending catastrophe and snatched
the little boy just as the runaway horse approached. Although she tried to grab Nora, the horse
knocked the girl to the ground and the heavy truck wheel ran over her ankle,
crushing it.
Policeman Gallagher from the Charles Street Station managed
to stop the out-of-control horse a block away.
The boy and girl were treated at St. Vincent’s Hospital and sent home;
but Nora was taken back later that night suffering from shock.
The following year Crosby Transfer left the Greenwich Street
building and on March 12, 1910 The New York Times reported that it had been leased. David Walsh, Inc., operated by brothers David
and James Walsh took the space. Another
trucking company, it ran successfully from the building for years—so successfully
that in 1918 Laura Jay Edwards, Mary’s daughter, sold the building to David
Walsh.
In 1921 Walsh bought an additional property at No. 271
West 10th Street and moved its operations there. By now automobiles outnumbered horses but the
noble steeds were not entirely gone.
John Ochse was leasing the building in 1926 when Department
of Buildings records recorded a conversion to “stable.” After three decades of commercial trucking
use, it was now a boarding stables for private horses. It was no doubt at this time that the
black-lettered “Boarding Stable” signs were painted on the brick façade.
Still legible above street level are the quaint signs of nearly a century ago -- photo by Alice Lum |
David Walsh died in the 1960s and his brother died by 1976. In 1978 the building was sold by the Walsh estate and two years later was converted into apartments. The wide carriage doors were filled in with glass blocks; the only major alteration to Julius Munckwitz's handsome facade.
And, amazingly, the Boarding Stable signs still survive at
the second floor—a reminder of a time when horses (and horse thieves) populated the Greenwich
Street neighborhood.
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