The sleepy character of the little Village of Greenwich woke
up when throngs of New Yorkers fled the cholera and yellow fever epidemics in
the 1820s. Once away from the congested
conditions of the city to the south and enjoying the open air of the
surrounding countryside, many of the newcomers stayed on.
Realizing the opportunity afforded by the burst in
population, the brothers, Isaac A., Jonathan and Charles C. Hatfield, purchased
land from Richard Amos in 1825. The
plots stretched along Hudson Street, between Christopher and Amos (later
renamed 10th Street) Streets, and around the corner along Amos.
Two years later Isaac, a builder-carpenter, completed construction
of a row of five brick-faced homes along Hudson Street. Three and
a half stories tall, they were typical of the Federal-style homes that were
cropping up in the neighborhood. Prim pedimented
dormers punctured the peaked roofs and simple lintels and cornices decorated
the facades.
Among them was No. 510.
Like its neighbors, it was intended for a working-class family
financially secure enough to afford the few extra touches like the Flemish bond
brickwork. That security slipped away
from H. Meyers, apparently. He was
living here in 1854 when he suffered the embarrassment of having his name
published by New York County for failing to pay $52.88 in back taxes (a little
over $1,000 today).
Later, in the early 1860s, Amelia A. Blakely lived
here. She was a teacher in the Primary Department
of School No. 16 on West 13th Street and would stay on for several
years. Her very existence here reflected
the still-respectable nature of the neighborhood, while the area nearer the
river just a few blocks to the west filled with grittier elements--a brewery, soap plant, and iron
works for example.
The house was owned by the Groosjean (sometimes spelled
Grosejean) Family following the Civil War.
It would appear that the ground floor had already been converted to
commercial use by 1876, for the Board of Aldermen paid E. Groosjean paid rent on the
premises “for general election November 7” that year.
The family leased apartments upstairs and the commercial
space on street level. At the turn of
the 19th century it was home to the headquarters of International
Teamsters’ Union Local 449. Cornelius T.
Shea was Treasurer of the union and shocked the neighborhood when he was arrested in May 1909 for having
stabbed Annie Walsh at No. 222 West 13th Street eleven times. The New York Times reported on May 23 that “The
woman is in St. Vincent’s Hospital, where the physicians say she will probably
die.”
The Teamsters gathered at the Hudson Street headquarters on
May 22 and began raising funds for the defense of their treasurer. “Considerable sympathy was expressed for Shea,”
remarked The Times, which added “They sought to excuse Shea by saying that he
was a man of quick temper.”
In 1932 No. 510 (second from right) had barely escaped demolition -- photo NYPL Collection |
On June 6, 1929 negotiations were complete. The Mandelbaums purchased the old house from
Elvina and Muriel Groosjean, seemingly sealing the doom of all the old
structures. The brothers now controlled 112 feet along
Hudson Street and 118 feet on Christopher Street. The New York Times reported that “a resale of
the entire plottage to builders for improvement with an apartment house is
pending.”
Perhaps only the effects of the Great Depression saved the
venerable building. But for whatever
reason, No. 510 and its nearly identical neighbor at No. 512 survived. But they were in sad condition.
Four years later No. 510 was vacant and neglected. In 1933 architects Scacchetti & Siegel
whose offices were at No. 1775 Broadway, were commissioned to convert the
decaying building into a “store with apartments above.” The firm was faced with a daunting task.
The architects described No. 510 as “old, decrepit, obsolete
and unoccupied, this old building was a liability. Nevertheless, in spite of its hundred years
of use it was still sound structurally.”
The 1930s was a period not particularly known for its
sensitivity in restoration, especially of structures with no connection to historical
events. Yet No. 510 Hudson Street was
essentially unaltered above street level.
Another sympathetic conversion came in 1970 when the
building was altered for an art supply store and commercial art gallery at
sidewalk level with one apartment on the second floor and a duplex above. Then, for years in the late 20th century
it was home to Café Sha Sha, a popular stop for pastries and coffee.N
No. 510 and its nearly-identical neighbor to the left, No. 512, managed to retain their 19th century charm above street level. |
Today Employees Only, an “American Nouveau” restaurant
serves dishes like duck confit salad , a Serbian charcuterie plate and “serious
cocktails” according to New York Magazine.
The venerable house has seen much change in its nearly 200 year existence;
but has stubbornly resisted that change above street level.
non-historic photos taken by the author
non-historic photos taken by the author
My great grandfather grew up in this building back in the 1903. We were always told that they had a flower shop on the street level.
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