The Gillender Building sat on an improbably-small lot. photo Library of Congress |
On March 7, 1905 the New-York Daily Tribune reported that
Augustus T. Gillender had, in the newspaper’s words, gone “insane.”
The article contained a single line that infuriated one reader. “He owned the Gillender Building, at Wall and
Nassau sts.”
Three days later the following letter appeared in the
newspaper:
To the Editor of The
Tribune.
Sir: In your issue of yesterday, under the heading
of ‘A. T. Gillender Insane,’ you said that the Gillender Building, at Nassau
and Wall sts., had been owned by Augustus T. Gillender. This statement is not correct. The land I inherited from my grandfather many
years ago, and the building on it was constructed and owned by myself, and was
named by me for my father, Eccles Gillender, and Mr. Augustus T. Gillender
never has had, nor has he now, the slightest interest in the property.”
Helena L. Gillender
Asinari
Admitting its mistake much later, the New-York Tribune would
say “Mrs. Helena L. Gillender Asinari inherited the property from George
Lovett, her grandfather, in 1849.” Once
again the newspaper had problems getting its facts straight.
George Lovett, a wealthy lumber merchant and real estate
investor, purchased the plot in 1849 for $55,000—an astonishing $1.73 million
in today’s dollars. Upon the settlement
of his estate in 1873, the property passed to Helena.
As the turn of the new century approached, steel-frame
construction was making taller buildings possible. Coupled with improved elevator engineering,
New York real estate developers were getting the idea that, almost literally,
the sky was the limit.
Along with the Manhattan fervor to construct ever-higher
structures came the public’s concern that the streets would be left in a
constant dusk. New building regulations
were tossed about to ensure that sunlight made its way to the pavement. Unsure of what those restrictions would entail,
Helen L. Gillender Asinari went into action in 1896, hoping to get ahead of the
proposed laws.
At the time the narrow plot held the six-story
Union Building. Only 25-feet, 2 inches
wide on Wall Street, it was the width of an upscale Fifth Avenue house. The Nassau Street width was 73 feet, 5 inches. In short it was a perfect sized plot for a
six-story structure.
But having been bitten by the skyscraper bug, Helena hired architect
Charles I. Berg to design a soaring office tower on the site. Berg was challenged not only by the small
plot; but by the spongy soil on which the building would sit. In order to support a building of what Fireproof Magazine called “towering
proportions,” caissons took the place of what normally would have been a sub-basement
where storage rooms or income-producing vaults could be housed.
A turn-of-the-century postcard of Wall Street captured the Gillender Building with Trinity Church beyond. |
The small rectangular footprint created a nightmare for Berg
in laying out office space. Common corridors, stairways and elevator shafts took up
much of the usable interior space. The
several logistical and engineering drawbacks suggest that Helena L. Gillender
Asinari most likely defiantly forged ahead against more sensible counsel.
Construction began in 1896 and was completed exactly ten
months to the day afterward, prompting Fireproof Magazine to say “The Gillender
office building has taken rank in the metropolis as one of the most rapidly
completed structures as yet achieved anywhere in the United States.”
Journalists and architects disagreed about the number of
floors. The New York Times said it was
19 stories tall. Technical World Magazine gave it credit for only 16 floors,
ignoring the tower; while other publications counted the cupola as a floor,
making a total of 20. What everyone
agreed upon was the height—306 feet from the curb to the tip of the tower’s
pinnacle. It was for a short time,
according to The New York Times “the tallest office structure in the world” and
“one of the wonders of the city.”
According to contractor Charles T. Wills, the cost of the
completed granite-clad structure was $500,000.
It was a handsome structure when viewed squarely from the Nassau Street
viewpoint. When the skinny Wall Street
side was taken into view, however, the Gillender Building took on the look of
domino set on end, ready to topple at any moment.
Touted as “absolutely fireproof,” the steel framework of the
skyscraper was encased in cement mortar.
No combustible materials were used inside, other than “unimportant
details of trim,” according to Fireproof
Magazine. The magazine added, incidentally, “The
interior decoration, finish and equipment are in perfect harmony with the
general scheme of construction.”
Helena Gillender Asinari was fortunate in that a previous
tenant in her Union Building, The Manhattan Trust Company, now took the three
lower floors of the Gillender Building.
The small offices of the upper floors were taken by brokerage firms like
Henry Allen & Co. and Patton & Cannon.
Being the tallest building in the neighborhood could have
its disadvantages. In July 1897, only
months after the building opened, a storm blew in from the harbor. The wooden flagpole atop the cupola was
struck by lightning and was, according to The New York Times, “entirely
wrecked.”
The flag pole atop the cupola was destroyed by lightning twice -- American Architect, June 15, 1901 (copyright expired) |
Three years later on May 31, 1900, the replacement flag pole
was struck again. The New York Times reported “That
lightning never strikes twice in the same place was proved a false theory yesterday
afternoon, when a terrific stroke sent splinters flying in every direction from
the flag pole on the Gillender Building at Nassau and Wall Streets.”
Wrapping the Gillender Building was the L-shaped Stevens
Building. In 1908 it was leased to the
Bankers Trust Company which, like the Manufacturers Trust Company, was affiliated
J. P. Morgan & Co. whose building was diagonally across Wall Street. Then, on December 15, 1909, it was announced
the Helena L. Gillender Asinari had sold the Gillender Building to her major
tenant, the Manhattan Trust Company. The bank met Helena’s purchase price of $1.5
million—almost $40 million by today’s standards. “As the plot occupied by the structure
comprises 1,825 square feet, about $825 a square floor was paid for the site,”
said the New-York Tribune. “That would
be a new high record price for land on Manhattan Island.”
The newspaper figured the value of the property only in terms
of the land, saying “the worth of the building on the plot did not figure
largely in the sum which was obtained for the property.”
Much to the astonishment of many New Yorkers, The Sun
reported that the Gillender Buildling—only 12 years old—was most likely
doomed. “Morgan interests are identified
with both the Manhattan Trust Company and the Bankers Trust Company. Negotiations are under way between the two
companies which if successful will result in the demolition of both the old
Stevens Building and the comparatively modern Gillender Building and the
erection of a thirty-two story skyscraper on the combined plot.”
On New Year’s Day, just two weeks after the Manhattan Trust
Company purchased the Gillender Building, the New-York Tribune reported that it
had resold the property and “rented from the purchaser the ground floor and
other space in the building for a term of eighty-four years.”
The 84-year lease would play out in an entirely new
building. The purchaser was Bankers
Trust, which now controlled the large corner plot.
In April 1910 “dismemberment” of the Gillender Building
began, making way for Trowbridge & Livingston’s $3 million, 39-story Bankers
Trust Company Building. “This new
building will be erected on the combined plot at the joint expense of the two
trust companies and will be occupied jointly by them,” announced The Sun on May
1.
The New York Times wrote on April 10, 1910 “Here is a modern
steel skyscraper in every respect, which was finished barely twelve years ago,
and yet the purchasers of the property are going to sacrifice it as ruthlessly
as though it were some ancient shack whose usefulness had long outlived the
demands required from it by the immediate business vicinity.”
Adding to its boasts of having been the tallest building in
the city, the most rapidly-constructed, and the highest price paid per square
foot; the Gillender Building was now the first skyscraper ever to be
demolished. The term “dismembered,” used
by a structural engineer, was aptly chosen.
The structure was disassembled from the top down. Jacob Volk, the contractor, explained to
reporters that “A big shaft will be cut through the center of the building, and
the material, as torn out, beginning at the top, will be dumped through it to
the ground and the night force will cart it away.” An enormous sidewalk bridge covered Nassau
Street to “prevent possible accident from falling steel girders or blocks of
granite,” said The New York Times on April 30.
The importance of dismantling a pioneer skyscraper was not
lost on Professor Charles Baskerville, Director of the Department of Chemistry
at the College of the City of New York.
He obtained permission from to examine and photograph the steel as it
was exposed by the workers. His purpose
was to study corrosion, the condition of the beams and rivets and other
structural elements. The Gillender
Building, in its early demise, provided important information to engineers and
architects going forward.
In 1910 workers started at the top in demolishing the structure -- photo from the collection of the New York Public Library |
Former Congressman Robert Baker of Brooklyn fired off a
letter to Mayor Gaynor demanding that the demolition of the Gillender Building cease
immediately. “The demolition of the
Gillender Building at Wall and Nassau Streets is rapidly producing a condition
fraught with the direst possible consequences,” he wrote, “not alone to our citizens,
but to the entire country. This
proceeding threatens to paralyze the financial activities of the Nation, as
none of these millionaires can reach their offices without traversing air completely
surcharged with pulverized stone, mortar, and brick, and thus filling their
lungs, eyes, ears, nostrils, and clothes with this volcanic like material.”
An enormous sidewalk bridge covered the entire width of Nassau Street -- photo Library of Congress |
Baker insisted that the Fire Department should direct a
stream of water on the building during its removal in fear that the country’s
economy would collapse. “While
ostensibly this appeal is made in the interest of a class, it is really induced
by a desire to avert that stoppage of the wheels of industry of the Nation that
would—we are assured—follow the temporary driving of our financial magnates
from their field of operations, for the Nation has no right to demand that
these men continue to run the affairs of the country under such conditions dangerous
to their health.”
Despite the former congressman’s ardent plea, the mayor
allowed the demolition to continue, J. P. Morgan and his peers continued to
arrive at their offices, and the economy survived.
Trowbridge & Livingston's Bankers Trust Building still stands. photo from the collection of the New York Public Library |
The former Bankers Trust Company Building survives today—nearly
ten times the lifespan of its predecessor, the unlikely Gillender Building.
many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for suggesting this post
many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for suggesting this post
Fascinating. Utterly, completely riveting.
ReplyDeleteAlways found this building to be simply wonderful, so full of architectural details and ornament dripping from every possible location, but absurdly narrow. While demolished at least it's replacement is a stunner.
ReplyDelete