The blocks of Broadway just south of Canal Street saw
incredible change during the 19th century. In the 1830s and through the mid-1840s Richard
Kingsland lived in the 25-foot wide house at No. 370 Broadway. The well-to-do hardware merchant operated his
business at No. 89 Maiden Lane. But by
1848 the Kingsland house had been replaced by a commercial building where Collins
& Brother, publishers operated through the 1870s.
That building, too, would not last. On April 17, 1880 the Real Estate Record and
Builders’ Guide reported that John Jay and Edmund B. Aymar intended to replace
the structure with a “five-story brick store” extending through to Courtlandt
Alley. The men had chosen architect-brothers
David and John Jardine to design the building.
All around the site stone-faced Italianate-style office and loft
buildings had already appeared. But D.
& J. Jardine would go in a different, trendier direction. They turned to neo-Grec, updating it with
liberal splashes of Queen Anne decoration.
The red brick façade was ornamented with terra cotta tiles and panels featuring
popular design elements of the period—sunflowers, ferns and stylized
leaves. The architects softened the corners
of the openings with bullnosed brick.
The stone lintels were delicately carved with a floral motif, nearly
unperceivable from the street; and the
sills dripped with rounded dentils.
The building was completed within the year, costing Jay and
Aymar $35,000—about $825,000 today. The
store space on the first floor became home to Butler Brothers, “dealers in
hosiery and notions,” while the upper floors
were reserved for light manufacturing.
William Maas & Co., “manufacturers of jet goods and jewelry,”
occupied the second and third floors. The
fourth and fifth floors were joined with No. 368 Broadway by internal doorways. Here
Danzig & Feuchtwanger made underwear and Danzig Brothers produced ladies’
suits. A central skylight provided
additional light to the interior of all the floors.
The clothing factories on the uppermost floors employed
about 100 girls. Wood-burning stoves not
only provided warmth during the winter months, but heated the smoothing
irons. When the floors were closed up
on the evening of January 7, 1882 at least one of the stoves was left
burning.
Just after 6:00 that night William H. Hall, a Butler
Brothers salesman, was standing under the skylight area. He glanced up to see the glow of flames on
the fourth floor. Firemen rushed to the
building and lugged their fire hoses as far as the third floor, where they
found the stairway boarded up.
“They were compelled to retreat, and then carried their hose
up ladders placed against the rear of the building on Courtlandt-alley,” reported
The New York Times the following day.
Other fire companies responded and hoses were hauled to the roofs of
adjoining buildings. As they fought the
fire, the fourth and fifth floor windows on Broadway burst out, showering the sidewalk with glass. An hour after it was discovered, the fire was
extinguished.
The two top floors were burned out and the lower floors were
heavily damaged by water. The Times said
they were “deluged.” Butler Brothers
lost about $25,000 in stock; Wm. Maas & Co. between $35,000 and $40,000;
and the two clothing manufacturers together lost between $10,000 and $15,000.
“The building is owned by the Hon. John Jay, and can be put
in proper repair for $5,000,” said The Times.
“The fire is supposed to have originated from the upsetting of a stove.”
A month later, on February 3, plans were filed for repairs
to the building. The Times’ estimate was
not far off. Contractor E. Smith placed
the cost at $4,677.
On April 14, 1888 Edmund B. Aymar sold his one-third share
in the property to Jay’s wife, Eleanor, for $51,667. Wm. Maas & Co. was still in the building,
along with its related firm Mass, Blum & Co., which manufactured leather
goods. Wm. Maas & Co. had been
organized in 1867 and by 1886 was, according to Finance and Industry “one of the most prominent houses engaged in
manufacturing novelties and fancy goods.”
It not only manufactured, but imported its goods.
By now they had taken an additional floor at No. 370
Broadway and established a large factory in Harlem. Finance
and Industry called the Broadway premises “very commodious and spacious…admirably
arranged and equipped with every appliance and facility for the display of the
varied stock, and the convenience of customers.” The authors called William Maas and M. Blum, “gentlemen
of the highest character and integrity, who are thoroughly conversant with
every detail of the business, and are constantly placing before the trade the
latest novelties.”
The top floor of the building was leased by Israel Levy,
proprietor of the Excelsior Cloak Manufacturing Company. His good fortune began a downturn on
October 27, 1888 when he was arrested for fraud. Robert Kell charged “that Levy had fraudulently
disposed of his stock and cash, and then offered to settle with his creditors
at 40 cents on a dollar.” Levy managed to pull together the hefty $5,000
bail; more than $125,000 in today’s dollars.
The Excelsior Cloak Manufacturing Company was bankrupted by
the scandalous affair. But Levy would be
back in the newspapers—and jail—two years later. Officials discovered that when Levy realized
his business would crumble, he gave large amounts of cash (as much as $70,000 in one instance)
to other garment manufacturers, then signed loan agreements with them for the
same amounts—in effect borrowing his own money.
When the list of creditors was compiled during the
bankruptcy proceedings, the “lenders” were included. When they received their payouts, they simply
gave Levy his money back. Israel Levy
and three others were arrested on October 10, 1890 “for alleged fraudulent disposition
of property.”
The factory space formerly rented by Levy was taken over by
Lichtenstein & Lyons, wanother cloak manufacturer. In 1891 the firm employed a bright 18-year
old as its bookkeeper. Unfortunately,
Julius Kleiblatt was taking home more than his salary. The teen was arrested on September 11, 1891
on grand larceny charges. “It was alleged
that for some time he has been defrauding the firm by raising the pay rolls and
also by overcharging customers,” said The New York Times. “He was held for trial.”
In the meantime, Wm. Mass & Co. continued growing. Seeger and Guernsey’s Cyclopaedia of the
Unitd States-New York listed a seemingly unending list of the goods produced by
the firm. Among them were bar pins,
hair pins (ivory and tortoise shell), leather novelties, pocketbooks, purses,
combs, and hair ornaments. The
publication listed among the types of jewelry: amber, celluloid, coral,
diamond, enameled, electro-plated, horn, ivory and mother-of-pearl, shell,
rubber, silver, mourning, and hair jewelry.
The firm suffered a tremendous blow on September 4, 1898
when its five-story Harlem factory building was all but destroyed by fire. The New York Times called it “one of the fiercest
that the department has combated in months, and for an hour the destruction of
the entire block of buildings was threatened.”
One wall collapsed onto the street, nearly burying a fire
engine and destroying it. The cost to the
owners, whom the newspaper called “manufacturers of bone, rubber, horn and
ivory goods,” was estimated at $200,000.
The Times added “More than 300 persons, largely girls, will be thrown
out of employment as a result.”
As the new century dawned, Wm. Maas & Co. abandoned No.
370 Broadway, to be replaced by linen dealers. In 1905 Granite Linen Co. was here, joined by
Crest Handkerchief Mfg. Co. and James Elliott & Co, purveyors of linens and
handkerchiefs, by 1907.
James Elliott and Granite Linen manufactured a wide array of "white goods" -- Dry Goods Economist, February 19, 1921 (copyright expired) |
On January 21, 1911 the Real Estate Record and Builders’
Guide reported that the John Jay Estate had sold the building to F. S. Jerome
and James H. Wright. The New York Times
announced that the property “was resold almost immediately” to Carson G. Peck,
who owned the building next door at No. 372.
Peck, who was a business partner of F. W. Woolworth, paid around $135,000
for the building; almost four times the original cost.
Dry goods firms would continue to call No. 370 home for
decades. James Elliott & Co. was
still here into the 1920s, as was Tile Crafton Company, Inc., sellers of blankets and
bedspreads.
The Great Depression hit many companies hard, including the exporting firm run by 40-year old Julius Stern in the building in 1930. Stern lived in Lawrence, Long Island and on the afternoon of November 6 that year he telephoned his doctor saying he was not feeling well. It was the beginning of a most bizarre episode.
The Great Depression hit many companies hard, including the exporting firm run by 40-year old Julius Stern in the building in 1930. Stern lived in Lawrence, Long Island and on the afternoon of November 6 that year he telephoned his doctor saying he was not feeling well. It was the beginning of a most bizarre episode.
When Dr. J. Barnett arrived, Stern excused himself and went
into another room. “A few moments later
he returned holding a bottle of poison, staggered a few steps and fell at the
doctor’s feet,” reported the New York Times the next day. Despite the doctor’s antidote and two hours
of care at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Far Rockaway, he died from the poison.
“The police declared that Stern was an exporter with offices
at 370 Broadway, and that he had been despondent because of business
depression,” said The Times.
The second half of the century saw No. 370 filled mostly
with small civic or political offices, including the Bureau of Public
Information and the Committee for Better Transportation for New York.
Other than the obliterated ground floor, D. & J. Jardine’s
design is largely intact. Its deep red
brick façade and crisp terra cotta ornamentation stand out sharply on this mostly
gray monotone block of Broadway.
photographs by the autor
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