Showing posts with label John B. Snook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John B. Snook. Show all posts

Saturday, February 25, 2023

John B. Snook's 1878 121 Spring Street

 


David O. Hogan lived at 90 Greene Street in the 1850's.  He made his living as a hackman, or carriage driver, and volunteered as a firefighter, or "laddie," with the Oceanus Engine Co. No. 11.  His respectable neighborhood was on the verge of serious decline.  Two decades later, John Ryan who lived next door at 121 Spring Street, was arrested for running a gambling operation in his house.  But the district was changing again at the time, as vintage homes were being razed to make way for modern loft buildings.

Catherine Lorillard Wolfe inherited $12 million (around $275 million in 2023) following the death of her father in 1872.  While she greatly used her fortune for philanthropic causes, like her father she also ventured into real estate development.  In 1878 she purchased the former Hogan and Ryan houses and hired architect John B. Snook to design a replacement store and loft building on the site.

Ground was broken on May 22 and construction was completed just six months later, on November 30, 1878.   Snook faced the building in red Philadelphia brick trimmed with sandstone.  A handsome cast iron storefront featured a robust Corinthian column at the corner and matching pilasters at either side of the store.  The entrance to the factory spaces upstairs was placed to the rear, at 90 Greene Street.  Snook's neo-Grec design incorporated stone bandcourses that connected the openings and doubled as lintels, and a bracketed cornice with a fringe-like frieze. 



The Soho district was filling with millinery firms at the time.  Wolfe's early tenants were Corn & Co., and the newly-organized Raymond J. Bennell, both hat makers; as well as A. L. Philips & Co., "cloak, furriers' and hatters' trimmings" merchants.  It was not long before Corn & Co. was the victim of burglars.

Julius Corn's firm occupied the ground floor and an upper floor.  On February 23, 1879, the New York Herald reported that George Cautine had pleaded guilty of stealing "ninety-five dozen hat bodies."  A hat merchant on Avenue A, Franz Wallehalter, was also arrested and charged with receiving stolen goods.

The following year, in November 1880, Corn & Co. filed for bankruptcy.  The Hatter and Furrier reported: 

The spacious store at 121 Spring street, corner of Greene, formerly occupied by Corn & co., has been refitted and will now be occupied by three firms:  C. H. Merritt of Danbury takes one half of the Spring street store, the other portion is rented to Adolph Wimpfheimer...The Greene street apartment is rented by Meyer Mercy of Newark, and will be used as a sample room by Frank Riley.

The magazine followed up in January, saying "C. H. Merritt, No. 121 Spring street, is making a specialty of stiff hats, with flexible brims.  Buyers are taking hold of them with eagerness."

Beginning in March 1882 a devastating financial depression swept the country that would last slightly more than three years.  Two of the tenants here would not survive it.  Raymond J. Bennell, who had borrowed $15,500 from his father-in-law in 1879 to start his business, and Meyers & Cohen both failed.

Catharine Lorillard Wolfe died on April 4, 1887 and bequeathed 121 Spring Street to her sister, Dorothea Wolfe Hoffman.  At the time the millinery industry was sharing the neighborhood with silk merchants.   Dorothea's primary tenant in 1888 was Johnson, Cowdin & Co., manufacturers of silk ribbons.  The firm's factory and mill were in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania.  

As the turn of the century approached, Sicklick Embroidery also operated from the building.  In December 1899 the firm was looking for an "experienced salesman" and "experienced applique cutters."  In both instances, the ads were titled "Bonnaz," referring to the embroidery machines invented in France in 1865 by a maker named Bonnaz.  In 1901 Sicklick Embroidery employed 7 men and 20 women, who worked 59 hours per week.

A year earlier Johnson, Cowdin & Co. had exhibited at the Paris Exposition.  Its accomplishments there smacked of today's Olympics.  The firm brought home a gold medal, three silver medals and four bronze medals.  The Report of The Commissioner-General for the United States said in part:

Johnson, Cowdin & Co. are among the few American ribbon manufacturers who take silk from reelers and spin, dye, weave, and finish their products by their own skilled operatives.  By attention to every process under one perfected interlocking organization the exhibitors are able to arrive at satisfactory results.

The judges were particularly impressed with a "brocade sash ribbon about 102 lines in width in pompadour effect, made with two and three colors."

The early years of the 20th century saw textile and apparel businesses moving into the building.  They included fabric merchants Silverman & Black; cloak and suit manufacturer Weltman, Pollack & Co.; and textile makers S. J. Hall & Son.

Silk magazine, December 1908 (copyright expired)

L. Hyman & Son, "dealers in paper, stationery, and blank books" had been located from across the street at 116 Spring Street for several years.  Then, in 1911 the firm leased the store and basement of 121 Spring Street and relocated in February 1912.  

The company was unusual in that one of the partners was a woman.  Frustratingly, because of the custom of the period, she was always referred to with deference to her gender only as Miss Hyman.  On July 25, 1914, for instance, The American Stationer wrote, "H. Z. Hyman, of L. Hyman & Son, dealers in stationery and office supplies...is expected to return from his vacation on Monday next.  Until his return Miss Hyman will continue to act as buyer."  And three months later the magazine noted, "Miss Hyman, of L. Hyman & Sons...is back at her desk, after spending a month touring New England."

The upper floors, occupied by textile dealers like Jansen & Pretzfeld, were joined by the Fordham Manufacturing Company, which took the second floor, in 1916.

American Silk-Journal, January 1912 (copyright expired)

L. Hyman & Co. was looking for delivery drivers in 1918.  Their religion-specific advertisement would raise eyebrows today: "Drivers:  (Jewish), experienced, wanted for paper and twine warehouse.  Only those having worked in such line need apply."

L. Hyman & Co. would remain in the building at least through 1921.  Other tenants in the 1920s included Ell-Jay Middy Co., apparel makers; and the Strong Machinery & Supply Company, which took space in 1927.

The New York Times, June 8, 1920 (copyright expired)

The Soho neighborhood would once again see drastic change during the third quarter of the 20th century.  In 1983 the Sonnabend Art Gallery moved into the store space, and two years later the lofts were converted to joint living-work quarters for artists. 

The Standard Casing Company occupied the ground floor space in 1941.  The building remains essentially unchanged today.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Rosa Esman Gallery opened here in 1984, replaced by the O. J. Gallery 121 in 1987.  Today the audio products store of Bang & Olufsen occupies the ground floor.

The artist lofts were converted to condominiums in 1996, one per floor.  

photograph by the author
LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

Saturday, March 26, 2022

The 1861 Mason Brothers Building - 5-7 Mercer Street

 

image via centurionre.com

The fashionable tenor of the Mercer Street block between Canal and Grand Streets in the early 19th century was evidenced in a description of the building at 7 Mercer Street in December 1830.  The rental ad called it "the elegant three-story brick dwelling house and lot No. 7 Mercer street...finished in the best manner."

The upscale, residential neighborhood would be completely transformed in the first years following the Civil War, as low brick houses were replaced with modern loft buildings.  One of the pioneers in the movement was J. J. Phelps, who did not wait for the construction flurry of the late 1860's and early '70's.  In 1859 he purchased and demolished the 25-foot-wide houses at 5 and 7 Mercer Street, and hired architect John B. Snook to design a replacement structure.

His five-story, Italianate style structure sat upon a cast iron storefront, manufactured by Daniel D. Badger's Architectural Iron Works.  Its fluted columns were originally capped by ornate Corinthian capitals.   The openings of the upper floors sat within prim architrave surrounds, those of the second floor being fronted with handsome balustrades.  

It is probable that Phelps already had a tenant before construction began.  Although the building was not officially completed until 1861, the publishing firm of Mason Brothers moved in before then.  Headed by brothers David G. and Lowell Mason, Jr., in addition to academic books, the firm published sheet music and the biweekly New-York Musical Review and Gazette.  

An advertisement in May 1860 listed the latest releases, including the three-volume Life of Andrew Jackson (which cost the pricey equivalent of $240 today), The Life and Times of Philip Schuyler, and Italy: From the Earliest Period to the Present Day.

A separate, but related, firm, Mason & Hamlin, shared space in the building.  Organized in 1854 by Henry Mason (David and Lowell Mason's brother) and Emmons Hamlin, the company produced and sold cabinet organs, sometimes called parlor organs.  An advertisement in The New York Times on May 11, 1863 announced:

Clergymen and Others interested are invited to call at our warerooms, Nos. 5 and 7 Mercer-street, New-York, and examine the new Cabinet Organs, with from one to twelve stops each, recently introduced by Mason & Hamlin.  They surpass all other instruments of the class, for smaller churches, chapels, Sabbath school-rooms, and private houses, while the prices are very moderate, viz, $70, $85, $95, $120, and upwards, each.  Dr. Lowell Mason, Dr. Thomas Hastings, and more than fifty of the most distinguished organists and musicians of New-York, Boston &c., bear witness in written testimony to the great value of these new instruments, and their entire superiority to all others.
                                                        Mason Brothers


This model was among Mason & Hamlin's most scaled-down versions.  Others had elaborate cabinets and finishes.

In 1861 music publisher and agent Theodore Hagen leased space in the building.  He offered sheet music "of every description, foreign as well as American," and, like Mason Brothers, published a journal, the Musical Review and World.  

Hagen had a knack for marketing.  In a December 21, 1863 article outlining the recent programs at the Academy of Music, The New York Times mentioned, "The lady patrons of the matinees were presented with copies of the polka which is published by Mr. Theodore Hagen, No. 5 and 7 Mercer-street."

In 1865 space on the upper floors was leased to brothers Bernard, Jessie and John Travis for their millinery shop.  It was a hint of the future of the district, which would become the center of the millinery and apparel trade by the mid-1870's.

And, indeed, by 1879 both Mason Brothers and Mason & Hamlin had moved to Union Square.  The building's tenants were now The American Suspender Company, the Eureka Silk Mfg. Co., and Seavey, Foster and Bowman, agents of the Eureka Silk Mfg. Co.


In the 1880's the John P. Lynch Knit Goods Co. and G. & M. Bamberger leased space in the building.  John P. Lynch had immigrated from Ireland and was fervently behind the cause of Irish Home Rule.  On June 17, 1886 The Sun reported, "A big pile of money came into The Sun office yesterday to help the Home Rulers win their battle.  The largest contributor was John P. Lynch of 5 Mercer street.  He sent a check for $200.  It was his second contribution to The Sun fund."  His initial check had been for $100, bringing his total donation to date to the equivalent of $8,500 today.

Lynch flourished his dual patriotism in a long letter included with his second check, which said in part:

As an American and an Irishman, I feel deeply grateful for what The Sun has done for human liberty in general, and for Irish liberty in particular, and I have no doubt I voice the feeling of millions.  May it continue to shed its brilliant rays on the subject of home rule until Ireland is a free and prosperous nation.

At the turn of the century, the ground floor was home to E. Bissell & Co., wholesale auctioneers.  The firm liquidated overstocked goods and inventory of closed factories.  On December 9, 1908, for instance, The 14th Street Store, owned by Henry Siegel, advertised "Toys Bought at Auction," and touted its recent purchase "right in the heart of the Christmas Season." The ad urged, "Think of it!  An auction sale of bright, new perfect toys sold by E. Bissell & Co."

On an upper floor was the Base Sorting Plant, Inc., operated by Ira M. Kaplan, Nat Meyers and E. A. Stone.  The firm repurposed scrap materials from garment makers.  But World War I brought a new purpose to the company.  On December 29, 1917, Textile World Journal reported that the business, "is henceforth to be operated in the interest of the Government."

The Daily Mill Stock Reporter added that since September, the Base Sorting Plant was "handling all clippings resulting from the cutting up of khaki cloth for military uniforms.  It is also handling the old khaki rags from the cantonments."  The owners "have tendered their services gratuitously to the United States Government for the duration of the war."  All profits were turned over to the Government.

The building continued to house apparel-related firms until the Soho renaissance in the third quarter of the century.   In 2002 the Grant Gallery was here, as was Rooms and Gardens, a furniture and lighting store.

photograph by the author

A renovation completed in 2019 resulted in joint living-work quarters for artists above the ground floor retail space.  Although the cast iron capitals of the storefront have been lost, John B. Snook's handsome design is little changed after 160 years.

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

Friday, June 18, 2021

The M. B. McAvoy Drugstore Building - 163 Christopher Street

 




In 1877 Levi A. Lockwood acquired the three vintage structures at the northeast corner of Washington and Christopher Streets.  Two years later he hired architect John B. Snook to design a store and flat building on the site.  Completed in 1880, the five-story structure was faced in red brick and trimmed in limestone.  Snook chamfered the corner to give additional light and ventilation to the apartments.  The residential entrance was flanked by two commercial spaces.

A fire escape system in the form of iron-railed balconies was both handsome and ingenious.  An enclosed, fireproof stairway essentially bisected the structure into two buildings.  Hallway doors opened onto the balconies, allowing tenants exit the burning side, enter the stairwell, and descend safely to the street.

The smaller store became home to Gottfried I Hartung's "segar" store, while the larger corner space became home to William H. Lauer's saloon, no doubt a welcome sight for sailors and dock men along the nearby riverfront.  

Lauer's business had not operated long before he was convicted for manslaughter on May 24, 1880.   He had hit and killed a pedestrian on the evening of October 24, 1879, then "whipped his horse into a run," as reported in the Public Ledger.   A police officer tried to chase him down, but gave up.  He had seen, however, "that the name painted on the wagon was Lauer."

The building's residents were, expectedly, working class.  Among the initial tenants were the Stock family, which had significant domestic problems.  On January 31, 1880 The Evening Telegram reported, "Frederick Stock, a sallow-complexioned, broad-shouldered young man of twenty-two years...was this morning arraigned before Justice Duffy, in the Jefferson Market Police Court, by a policeman of the Charles street police station, and called upon to answer for an assault committed by him upon his mother, a lady of about fifty-five years of age."  Mrs. Stock appeared in court with a swollen and badly bruised face, "the result, she said, of her son's brutality."

Additionally, when Frederick's father had attempted to intervene, Frederick threatened to kill him with a "huge knife," according to the arresting officer.  The young man's sister was also in court, testifying that he had previously stolen various pieces of jewelry from her.  When Frederick was unable to post the $700 bail (more than $18,000 today), he was sent to the Workhouse on Blackwell's Island.

The socio-economic level of the residents in the mid-1880's was reflected in their various jobs.  Francis Albony, for instance, was a bootblack; William Coffey was a watchman (a security guard by today's terms); Jonathan L. Cole was a house painter while John W. Cole was a carpenter.  

A young French couple named Tillard arrived in New York in 1883 and moved into the building.  Tillard had been a lieutenant in the French Army and now went into the wine business.  On the afternoon of August 31 another tenant heard moaning coming from the Tillard apartment.  The Evening Post reported, "Madame Tillard...was found lying on the bed, and when questioned as to what was the matter, said she felt very badly."  The neighbor assumed she was suffering from a toothache and left. 

The situation was much worse than a toothache.  When her husband returned home at about 6:00 that evening he found her "in a serious way" and, when he looked closer, "discovered that she had been shot in the neck."  A French-speaking physician was called, who sent for an ambulance.  The 25-year-old woman was critically injured.  According to The Evening Post, "The bullet had entered close to the wind-pipe and lodged in the back of the neck.  The bullet was of a large calibre."

Police assumed that Madame Tillard "was cleaning out a bureau drawer, when she found a pistol which her husband had placed there.  She did not know it was loaded, and while carelessly handling it, it went off."

By 1896 Joseph Schenone ran his fruit store in the former cigar shop and lived with his mother upstairs.  On April 16 he placed an advertisement in the New York Herald that read, "LOST -- An old woman (Italian): strayed away from home; aged about 65 years; any information will be rewarded; $10 reward, dead or alive."

Teresa Schenone spoke no English.  She left the apartment on April 10 and walked to her daughter's home at 119 Baxter Street.  She arrived there, spent some time, and headed back at 5:00, but never arrived home.  Now, a week later, Joseph gave a detailed description:

She wore a black calico dress with white lace on it, a white shawl and a black wrap.  She was small and had gray hair.  She was very strong for her age, however, and could easily walk from Baxter street to this place.  She did this repeatedly.

Joseph's statements, however, were a bit concerning.  "It is my opinion that she came out of my sister's and started east instead of west for Hudson street.  She probably got lost, and has been staying with Italians on the east side," he told reporters.  The idea that the woman would not have tried to get home after week made no sense; nor did her making such a drastic mistake after having made the trip "repeatedly."  And the fact that her son waited nearly that long to look for her was even more suspicious.  Whether Teresa was ever found is unclear.

Irish-born Sullivan family lived here in 1905.  Tom Sullivan passed by the brother of Tony Salamone--a member of the Black Hand terrorist group--on Hudson Street that summer, ignoring him.  According to The Sun on July 25, "The latter walked up to Sullivan and asked why he didn't speak.  'I knew you all right,' replied Sullivan, 'but I don't have to speak to the likes of you.'"  Hearing of the affront on his brother, Tony Salamone set out to "fix things."

A few nights later, on July 24, Tony found Tom on the street and said something.  Tom responded and wisely hurried on.  When he reached the door to the Christopher Street building, Tony stopped him from entering, "and asked him to walk along the street a bit further."  When they got to the corner of Washington Street, Tony pulled out a razor.  Sullivan ran to the door of the parish house of St. Veronica's Church, where he had been an altar boy.

The Sun said, "He rang the bell, but his call was not answered, and almost at once the Italian was at him slashing with the razor until Sullivan sank in a pool of blood on the steps of the house."  Although none of the terrified bystanders came to Tom's aid, someone did run to the Sullivan apartment and notified his brother, James.  While James chased Salamone, "a large crowd had gathered and nearly 300 joined in the hunt."

James Sullivan overtook Salamone at the corner of Barrow and Hudson Streets, "and the crowd closed in."  Luckily for Salamone, Detective Carmody was quickly on the scene.   Otherwise, said The Sun, "Tony might never have needed the services of anything but a coroner's jury.  As it was, Carmody had a hard fight to land his prisoner in the station house."  In the meantime, Tom Sullivan was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital where he was given "a small chance to live."

At the time of that episode Minnie Belle McAvoy had just taken over the corner commercial space for her M. B. McAvoy Pharmacy.   William Lauer's saloon had survived through the 1880's, replaced by the McRae & Co. drugstore.  On July 27, 1905 The Pharmaceutical Era reported that Minnie McAvoy "succeeds McRay & Co."  She paid $3,500 for the business--a significant $105,000 in today's money.

Born in Rome, New York in 1876, she had graduated from the New York College of Pharmacy in 1902.  She had initially worked in a drugstore before deciding to strike out on her own.  

Minnie McAvoy's business drew its customers from three main sources--the blue collar neighborhood residents, the crowds of people who streamed past on their way to and from the ferry to New Jersey at the foot of Christopher Street, and the hoards of sailors whose ships docked along the waterfront.  The stout woman's personality--a mixture of no-nonsense business and maternal compassion--quickly made her a beloved figure.

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle later described her saying she "runs a pharmacy, is guide and philosopher to sailors and marine workers...and trusted by everybody.  She'll pass the time of day, hold money and valuables for seafaring folk, talk shop about her medicines, run a little post office for seamen who even entrust her with personal matters."

Stockbroker Walter B. Boyle was passing by the pharmacy on July 18, 1908 after getting off the ferry from Hoboken.  At the corner of Washington Street he came across two men loudly arguing.  "Gentlemen, don't quarrel!" he said.

The San Francisco Call reported, "That mild remark cause two men...to stop their altercation, pick up the speaker and throw him through a big plate glass window into McAvoy's drug store, at 163 Christopher street.  They fled, but Policeman Beggs of the Charles street station arrested the peace maker as he lay amid broken glass and patent medicine bottles."

Boyle was charged with intoxication.  In the Jefferson Market Court an hour later he pleaded that he was a witness, not a culprit.  Magistrate Walsh seems to have believed him, but wondered aloud who was going to pay for Minnie McAvoy's window.  The would-be pacifist discovered that his good intentions would cost him.  He promised to replace the window.

"That's the proper spirit," said the judge, "I'll fine you $2."

The opening of the Hudson River Tubes on Christopher Street in 1908 put an end to the ferry service.  Nevertheless, Minnie McAvoy's business prospered and the story of the plucky woman spread across the nation.  

On February 4, 1924 The Alaska Daily Empire said, "she is a manufacturing chemist, shipping her preparations to all parts of the world.  At the same time she is known as 'Doctor' all over her neighborhood, where people take their minor ills to her."  Among her self-made tonics was an herbal compound the sailors swore cured a hangover.  According to The New Yorker in 1938, "She has sold 50,000 bottles in the last 29 years."

Minnie McAvoy shakes a barrel of her remedy before bottling it.  She told a reporter "The agitation has to be kept up continuously for half an hour before it is ready to be drawn."  The Spatula, February 1924 (copyright expired)

In the early hours of August 22, 1925 two patrolmen, officers Joseph McAllister and Thomas Rooney, were passing the drugstore when they heard the sound of crashing glass.   Three burglars had gotten into the cellar by breaking a padlock and then cut a two-foot hole in the basement ceiling to gain entrance to the store.  Two of them,  James McArdle and Frank Brien, shimmied up, leaving the Joseph Kopp to stand guard.  But in the darkness they bumped into a pile of Minnie's glass chemical containers which crashed to the floor, alerting the police on the sidewalk.  At the same time the burglar alarm went off.

The New York Times reported, "The police were already at the door when the bell started clanging, and at this instant...Brien and McArdle, deciding it was time to leave, ducked through the hole in the floor and dashed out of the cellar exit, leaving Kopp behind."  The officers chased the two down Christopher Street until two pistol shots into the air convinced the crooks to stop.

Back at the drugstore Officer Rooney found Kopp hiding in the dark basement.  "Then were sounds of a scuffle, and the policeman appeared with his man," said the article.  A block away the police found the getaway car, stolen a week earlier.  The men were later identified as the trio that had held up a Chinese restaurant on West 42nd Street earlier that night.

Minnie Belle McAvoy's reputation continued to spread.  On May 3, 1939 the Danville, Kentucky newspaper the Kentucky Advocate reported, "Seafaring men from all over the world drop in at Miss Minnie Belle McAvoy's drug store in Greenwich Village, New York, to have her give them medicine and kind words.  To many of them she is 'Mother McAvoy,' and her acquaintance with truckmen, sailors and clerks from wholesale houses has grown considerably in the thirty-three years since she first opened up her shop."

Minnie McAvoy tends to a neighborhood boy's scalded arm.  The Alaska Daily Empire, February 4, 1924

The New York Times said, "Mother McAvoy learned phrases from half a dozen foreign languages, so that she could converse with sailors who knew only Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, French and a few others.  From her old-fashioned desk in the store she also acted as a notary public and helped many sailors who turned to land-lubbing to become citizens."

Minnie McAvoy was so trusted that, according to The New Yorker in 1938, "Many sailors make straight for Mother McAvoy's when they get paid off and give her most of their money to put away in her safe to prevent wild spending."  The New York Times added, "Occasionally, when a sailor boisterously demanded all of his pay so he could 'see the town,' Mother McAvoy would look at him cautiously, hand him a dollar and tell him to come back for more when he felt better."  

The McAvoy Drug Store window noted that services like "citizen papers filled out here" and "notary public" were available.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The Kentucky Advocate noted on May 3, 1939, "Sometimes [her customers] borrow money of her and she boasts that she has never lost a cent.  They are goodhearted and honest, she says, and adds that you get what you give in this world."

Then, on November 12, 1940, The New York Times reported, "Miss Minnie Belle McAvoy, known to sailors of the seven seas as 'Mother McAvoy,' and one of the few women proprietors of a drug store in this city, died yesterday at the age of 64.  For more than forty years she had spent her days from sunrise to sunset in a small old-time drug store at 163 Christopher Street...just a block from the teeming Chelsea waterfront."

The article recalled, "To sailors and truckmen of the neighborhood she was more than a druggist who had invented her own special vegetable tonic that was excellent for a hangover.  She was a friendly counsellor and a 'bank' and 'post office' for sailors on their brief stays ashore from far-away lands."  The newspaper quoted her as once stating, "Folks sometimes say this is a rough, tough neighborhood.  'Pshaw,' I tell them, it's the nicest, kindest place in the world."

Minnie Belle McAvoy's funeral was held in St. Veronica's Church just up the block on November 13.  It ended a remarkable chapter in Greenwich Village history.

The McAvoy pharmacy entrances were on either side of a show window, unlike the corner configuration today.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The second half of the 20th century saw tremendous change in the neighborhood.  By 1975 the smaller store was the home of Edward Gilly's custom made stained glass shop, and the former McAvoy pharmacy had become the Silver Dollar Restaurant.  

As had been with case with the drugstore, the restaurant was broken into in the early morning hours of May 13, 1977.  The burglars did not make off with cash and their loot was easily detected.  The Villager reported, "Two suspects were reportedly found walking along West 11th St., with cases of meat after a robbery at a restaurant at 163 Christopher St."  Anthony Bosco was charged with burglary, possession of stolen property, and resisting arrest, while the other culprit escaped.

Mother McAvoy's funeral was held in St. Veronica's Church, to the right.

Both commercial spaces house restaurants today, while the upper portion of John B. Snook's 1880 structure remains remarkably unaltered.  And Mother McAvoy, a significant figure in Greenwich Village history, has largely been forgotten.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Joseph McConnell for suggesting this post
no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

Friday, June 12, 2020

John B. Snook's 1877 450 Broadway




The first wave of the redevelopment of the Broadway blocks just above Canal Street in the late 1830's.  Theaters and commercial buildings took over or replaced the wooden and brick homes of a generation earlier.   That phase ended following the Civil War as modern loft buildings were erected throughout the area.
The east side of Broadway between Howard and Grand Streets as it appeared in 1840.  W. Robert's Half Way House occupied the two-story frame former residence at No. 450 (left).  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York
In 1876 the Lorillard family commissioned architect John B. Snook to design two side-by-side structures at Nos. 446-448 and 450 Broadway.  Construction began on December 21 that year and was completed in just over five months, on May 25, 1877.

Snook designed No. 450 as a narrower version of its sibling next door.  Were it not for the quoined pilasters that separate the two buildings, they would appear as a single structure.   The Corinthian columns of the storefront sat upon pedestals.  Faced in cast iron, each of the four upper floors was clearly defined by a molded cornice.  Corinthian columns separated the openings (quarter-round versions snuggled into the corners).  An unusual touch was Snook's concave, paneled frieze below the terminal cornice which followed the lines of the curving lines of the brackets.


No. 450 Broadway was a half-version of Nos. 446-448.  photo via triboroughmultifamily.com
Perhaps the first tenant to move in was the men's neckwear firm Fleisch & Co., run by Jacob H. and Nathan Fleisch.   It was described by The Sun as "one of the oldest firm in that line of business."  The factory hired mostly female workers and on December 11, 1879 an advertisement in The Sun sought "A few young girls to learn making men's ties and bows."

Work within apparel shops in the 19th century was miserably hot in the summer and grueling no matter what the season.  In the spring of 1886 the employees of Fleisch & Co. walked out.  The New York Times reported on May 13 that the firm had "compromised" with reduced hours of "9-1/2 and 10 hours a day."

It was around the same time that the Philadelphia-based Wright Bros. & Co. moved in.  Makers of umbrellas, walking sticks and parasols, the firm was founded in 1816 and by 1885 had branches in Boston, Chicago and New York.  It was considered that year to be "the oldest and at the same time the largest house in the umbrella trade," according to the Chicago Board of Trade.  "Their parasols are always authority for correct styles and beautiful designs," it said.

In 1889, according to Clothier and Furnisher, Wright Bros. & Co. "now turn out something like one million umbrellas and parasols annually."  The article recalled that in its more than 60 years existence, it had "never suspended operations, except for a few months at the outbreak of the rebellion, when they converted their establishment into a manufactory for army clothing, thereby giving employment to over 500 persons (mostly women), who would otherwise have suffered from lack of work."


This ad illustrated the firm's patented and adjustable umbrella tie.  The New York Times deemed it "a marked improvement."  Clothier and Furnisher August 1899 (copyright expired)
Among the management of Wright Bros. & Co. in 1890 was 47-year old William W. Cubbin, who lived in Brooklyn.  He was headed home at around 6:30 on October 17 that year when, about half a block away, "he threw up his hands and would have fallen forward but bystanders caught him," according to The Sun.   A delivery wagon pulled over and the driver took him to the Mulberry Street police station, where Cubbin died before a doctor could arrive.

The New-York Tribune was blunt in its account, saying that he "dropped dead last evening at Grand-st. and Broadway."  The reporter for The Sun flexed his medical instincts, saying "He looked like a consumptive, and death may have been caused by internal hemorrhage."  Oddly enough, in his pocket along with his bankbook and $43.70 (a little over $1,000 today), was his will.  "It leaves all his property to his daughter, Grace Maria Cubbin, now 9 years old," noted The Sun.

Both Fleisch & Co. and Wright Bros. & Co. left No. 450 in the early to mid-1890's, and in 1897 the newly-formed Silberstein, Hecht & Co. moved in.

It was founded in part by Albert Lyman Silberstein, who had come to America from Prussia as a child in 1870.  When he was 22-years old he started the Griffon Cutlery Co. across the street at Nos. 445-446 Broadway.  His new Silberstein, Hecht & Co. manufactured and imported sterling silver "pocket cutlery" and safety razors.  

Silberstein held the patent on the "Griffon" brand razor.  His filing in September 1896 describes it as "readily adjusted to bring the blade in proper relation to the guard."  The razor was presented in a fitted leather case with an instruction pamphlet and all the necessary accouterments--strop, replacement blades, and such.


Silberstein's no-nonsense patent drawings did not reflect the ornate chasing on the actual product.  
In 1908 The Iron Age Directory showed that the firm was still operating from No. 450, but now it was listed as A. L. Silberstein.  


This sterling silver knife was an example of Silberstein, Hecht & Co.'s "pocket cutlery."  photo via worthpoint.com
In February 1918 dry goods jobber Isaac Gitenstein signed a seven-year lease on the four upper floors.  The Record & Guide reported the rent was "about $25,000," or about $60,500 per year in today's money.  The building's owner, the George L. Ronalds estate, might have had serious concerns about their prospective tenant before signing.

In 1909 Gitenstein had branched out to join his brother Abraham and William J. Elsesser in a second company with a shirt factory at No. 256 Church Street.  Not long after the factory was gutted by fire on June 3, 1912 Gitenstein was implicated in an arson plot.

Gitenstein did not remain through his entire seven-year lease.  In 1922 the Cincinnati-based officer furniture manufacturer Globe-Wernicke Co. used the building as warehouse space.  Then, in February 1940, textile brokers Walser & Wellisch Co. purchased the building.  The New York Times reported "the new owner contemplates using the structure for his own business."  By mid-century the firm was renamed the Wellisch Company.

As the Soho neighborhood changed from industrial to trendy, the street level shop followed suit.  In hopes of supplementing her income, in 1979 artist Patti Paige blended her creative skills with her grandmother's cookie recipes and opened Baked Ideas here.  Paige treated her wares as blank canvases, decorating them with portraits, depictions of architecture, cartoon characters, and more.  As Valentine's Day approached on February 2, 1983 The New York Times food columnist Marian Burros reported "Single hearts, double hearts and cupids in spice, sugar and honey whole wheat, delicately decorated with bows and flowers and arrows, are being made by Baked Ideas."

Today a bank occupies the space.  And overall John B. Snook's cast iron structure is little changed since the paint first dried in 1877.

photograph by the author

Friday, December 1, 2017

Twin Sisters Born 35 Years Apart -- 381-383 Broadway




In 1851 Richard Smith Clark hired architect John B. Snook to design a commercial building to replace the vintage house at the northwest corner of Broadway and White Street.  Designed in the Italianate style, the five-story structure included a cast iron storefront.  The openings at the second floor were dignified by triangular, Renaissance-inspired pediments.  Those above wore molded cornices and sat on stills upheld by dainty brackets.  A cast cornice with paired foliate brackets completed the design.

In 1854 No. 381 (far left) shared the block with one other commercial building, next door at No. 383, and 10 converted houses.  Tallis' Street Views, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

David Rait had been partners with Samuel Y. D. Arrowsmith until August 7, 1850 when the jewelers parted ways.  Rait moved into the newly-completed 381 Broadway where he imported and manufactured high-end jewelry for the wholesale trade.  In 1853 he advertised "diamonds in original packages, or lots therefrom to suit customers."   He charged $28 (nearly $900 today) per carat.

By the time Rait placed his advertisement, Broadway was seeing a far different business finding its way to Broadway.  Leading the relatively-new commercial photography industry were Mathew B. Brady, Jeremiah Gurney and Martin M. Lawrence.  On March 15, 1853 Lawrence established his studios in No. 381 Broadway.

Lawrence was especially noted for his extra large "mammoth" daguerreotypes (they were a wall-sized 12 x 15 inches); and for his posed allegories.  One, titled "Past, Present, and Future," had earned him a prize in the Crystal Palace exhibition in London two years earlier.


An advertisement pictured the Broadway building and his Crystal Palace medal.  (copyright expired)

Lawrence announced his opening in The New York Times:

W. Lawrence has the pleasure to inform his friends and the public that he will open to-day at No. 381 Broadway, the corner of White-street, one of the most extensive and splendid Daguerrian Galleries in the world.  Citizens and strangers are respectfully invited to visit the rooms and view his numerous collection of 'human face divine,' and especially the frame of 25 pictures exhibited at the World's Fair, in London, pronounced the best in the exhibition, and awarded Mr. L. the first premium, the prize medal.

Three months later Humphrey's Journal of the Daguerreotype described the layout, noting "a reception room on the third floor, richly furnished; two 25-by-30-foot operating rooms on the fifth floor, with 16-foot ceilings and skylights each 12 by 15 feet."

Martin M. Lawrence died in 1859.  At about the same time David Rait moved his operation to No. 405 Broadway.   No. 381 Broadway became home to the men's furnishings store of Ira Perego & Sons, which had another shop on Nassau Street.    On May 1, 1860 The New York Times noted that the store was having a "Great Sale of Neck-Ties," at "only 50 cents each."

Ira Perego & Sons offered a full line of men's clothing, from underwear to outerwear.  During the winter it advertised "superior shirts and collars, mufflers and shawls, fine cravats and scarfs, robes de chambre, lined kid gloves, and fancy suspenders."   And as the hot weather approached an advertisement in the New-York Tribune noted "We invite attention to our large assortment of summer under garments, comprising--gauze silk shirts and drawers, gauze merino shirts and drawers, lisle thread shirts and drawers, &c."

By 1864 Ira Perego & Sons had moved to No. 175 Broadway and the main tenant at No. 381 was Spencer D. Schuyler.  The dry goods firm operated its retail operation from the ground floor store and its immense wholesale business on the upper floors.  According to The New York Times in 1864 S. D. Schuyler had made sales amounting to $253,000 the previous year; about $4 million today.

Anamus M. Ronk worked as a salesman for Schuyler in 1866.  On June 29th that year a young woman and her male companion entered the store.  She asked Ronk to show her some silk dress goods.  While she mulled over the fabrics her friend wandered casually about the shop.

Finally Maria Stewart (described by The Times later as "about 21 years of age, and of genteel appearance") made her choices, asked that Ronk packed the bundles which they would return to pick them up and pay for later in the day.  The Times reported "After they had left the premises the clerks missed...two pieces of silk, and as the pretended purchasers failed to return for the silks selected, suspicion attached to them."

The stolen silk was valued at $260 (just under $4,000 today) and Maria was nabbed by police a few days later.  Anamus Ronk identified her as "the pretended customer" and authorities announced that it was the second time she would appear before a judge on similar charges.

Considering Spencer D. Schuyler's apparent success, his customers were no doubt shocked to read in the daily newspapers in June 1868 that he had declared bankruptcy.

On November 11, 1882 The Record and Guide reported that Richard S. Clark "proposes to tear down the old brick building, No. 383 Broadway, and erect an office building to be joined to his other building on the northwest corner of Broadway and White street."  The journal added "It will be fitted with an elevator and other conveniences."

Clark would not live to see his proposal carried out.  It was more than three years later when, on February 13, 1886, The Record and Guide reported "A fine store will be erected at No. 383 Broadway, which is now being torn down."

The Richard Smith Clark estate had commissioned the architectural firm of J. & D. Jardine to design the building.  Theowners gave the brothers, David and John, surprising instructions--the new structure should match exactly the design of the nearly 40-year old building on the corner.  The result was seamless, visually doubling the size of the original structure.

The upper floors of No. 383 were intended as offices.  Interestingly, even as the old structure was being demolished, the Clarks announced "The building is already all rented, with the exception of the store."

By the time construction was completed later that year the store had been taken.  On October 2, 1886 The New York Times reported "Eugene P. Peyser, who already has a store at No. 123 Fulton-street, will open to-day a branch at No. 383 Broadway, in the very heart of the dry goods district."   Like Ira Perego & Sons, Eugene P. Peyser offered a full line of men's furnishings.   The journalist for The Times was impressed by the opening day prices.

When this photo was taken following the completion of No. 383, there were still three converted houses on the block.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

"Collars of fine linen at 10 cents; cuffs of equally good material for 11 cents, shirts with reinforced bosoms, for 42 cents, and embroidered dogskin gloves at 97 cents, are some of the attractions to be found in the new store."  (The 97 cents for the dogskin gloves would be equal to about $25.50 today.)

And like Ira Perego & Sons, the store's stock changed with the seasons.  The following summer gentlemen could find "white vests and Summer coats and vests" and "drap d'ete, silk Pongee serges, white flannel and tennis coats."  The Times (no doubt having received a monetary prompting from the store) opined "One cannot fail to find just what he wants among the quantities of men's outfitting, and must indeed be hard to please if the quality and texture of the Summer goods do not satisfy."

Peyster's experiment with the new Broadway branch was so successful that in October 1887 he expanded into the basement level, calling it the Casino.  This level was dedicated for the most part to selling coats.  A newspaper wrote "the walls are tastefully decorated, the ceiling likewise, and an electric light makes the place as bright and cozy as a private parlor.  This is the 'Casino,' Mr. Peyser's pride.  In it the overcoat holds sway."

Gentlemen shoppers could browse among "serviceable silk-faced" fall coats, and winter overcoats of "the best beaver."  The most expensive of the beaver coats was $31, over $800 in today's dollars.

Those overcoats would be sorely needed later that winter. On March 11, 1888 one of the worst blizzards in American history hit the Northwest.  More than 400 people perished--200 of them in New York City--and as much as 55 inches of snow piled into the streets. 

S. M. Jackson Jacobs was 28 years old at the time, working as a clerk for Eugene Peyster.  When customers were able to dig out of their homes, they headed to the store.  Decades later Jacobs recalled the run on gloves and ear muffs.  "We created woolen pull-over caps for our customers by slitting bathing trunks and tying a piece of string at the top of each leg.  We had about ten dozen of these trunks and as caps we sold them out immediately."

In the spring of 1889 the city prepared for the three-day celebration of the 100th anniversary of George Washington's inauguration.   President Harrison and other Washington dignitaries would participate, a military parade, grand receptions and events throughout the city were planned.

On April 24, 1889 The Times reported "New-York has begun to put on her fine clothing for the festivities of next week.  Broadway is already afloat with rainbow-hued bunting and bright with the anticipations of the centennial."   Eugene P. Peyster was not to be outdone.  "Flags were as thick as mosquitoes and quite as lively in yesterday's breeze at Eugene Peyster's store, at 383 Broadway, for they were projecting from every window sill," said the article.

In the meantime, No. 381 had a variety of tenants, including George W. Requa, a contractor for railroad supplies here in 1890, and Jones Bros. & Co. dry goods.

By 1904 the two buildings had been joined internally.  School supplies dealer F. G. Thorn was a major tenant by then, selling everything from book carriers and blackboard erasers to arm rests, and even baseballs.

Thorn had come to New York from his native Stuttgart in 1876.  By now he was well known throughout the industry as a jobber of American-made school goods.  One of the companies he represented was The American Crayon Co., makers of what we would today know as blackboard chalk.  He was quoted in Geyer's Stationery in September 1904 as saying the "crayons" were "faultless and have no equal."  He promoted the item in glowing terms.  "For general satisfaction, economy and sanitary reasons these crayons should be used in every school room."

As he did every spring, Thorn traveled to Pittsburgh on a buying trip in April 1907.  While there he complained of indigestion, and died a few hours later in his hotel.  Geyer's Stationery called him "a general favorite with the trade" and Walden's Stationer and Printer said "His friends were legion."

A. G. Hyde & Sons had moved into the building in 1893.  A wholesale cotton goods operation,  marketed its Heatherbloom taffeta as being "Better Than Silk" in 1905.  Following A. G. Hyde's death, his sons Seymour J. and A. Fillmore continued the business.  Eventually, A. Fillmore Hyde left to pursue the real estate business, leaving his brother to run what The Sun would later call "a power in the trade."

By 1907 the tenant list included firms involved in other than the dry goods businesses.  The Tablet & Ticket Co. was here that year, makers of memorial plaques and, most importantly, the Willson Building Directories.  Architects and building owners embraced the new concept that allowed visitors to easily find the location of an office within the building.  As tenants came and went, their names could easily be added and removed.  On December 13, 1913 The Record and Guide touted the "bulletin boards with letters to apply which can be locked in."

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, April 15, 1916 (copyright expired)

As modern skyscrapers rose, The Tablet & Ticket Co. provided the lobby directories.  In April 1907 it received contracts for the new United States Realty Building and the Trust Co. of America building on Wall Street.   The following year the firm received the contract to install directories in the 47-story Singer Building.  The Table & Ticket Co. would do business from here into the 1920s.

Other long-term tenants were the W. S. Howell Ticket Agency, in the building from about 1903 through about 1912; and the Wm. E. Wright & Sons "piping and trimmings" firm, in the building from about 1909 into the 1920s.

Notions and Fancy Goods, June 1909 (copyright expired)

In 1913 A. G. Hyde & Sons suffered its first misfortune in the death of Seymour Hyde.  A. Fillmore returned as president,  Seymour Worrall Hyde, the son of Seymour J., took the position of vice-president.

When the United States entered World War I Seymour enlisted in the 306th Infantry.  But things went terribly wrong.   By the winter of 1918 Hyde was a First Lieutenant.  On leave in the city he ran into a sergeant on the street who failed to salute him.  After mildly rebuking the lower-ranking officer, Hyde ordered him into a taxi cab.  The New-York Tribune reported on February 2 1918 that it stopped at No. 381 Broadway, "which houses the New York counting and stock rooms of the great woollen firm of A. G. Hyde & Sons."

In a bizarre turn of events Hyde held the sergeant captive in an upstairs office and called for two privates from nearby Camp Upton to stand guard.   He told them he was questioning a German spy.  The sergeant was subjected to interrogation from 10 in the morning until 6 that night.

The sergeant later testified "Part of the time Hyde made me dictate answers to his questions into an office phonograph.  He had me strip off my shirt, and every once in a while he'd listen to my heart.

"'It's beeint too fast,' he would say.  'You're lying to me.'"

At one point he took the two privates outside "and wrapped  them up in lavender cloth from head to foot, so that all I could see of them was there eyes.  I almost had the willies, but they were perfectly solemn about it."

When authorities finally were alerted to Hyde's strange behavior, he was diagnosed with a nervous breakdown and committed for treatment.

Later that year, on December 24, The Sun reported "The revolver shot at Sarajevo that woke up the world four years ago was the crack of doom for the house of Hyde...Its export and import trade, upon which its success was largely built, was choked off by the war.  The inevitable happened yesterday, when A. Fillmore Hyde...summoned all its employees, many of whom have grown old with the firm, before him and told them the business would be closed out."

The changing face of the Broadway neighborhood was reflected following the war in its tenant list.  The Toledo Metal Wheel Company took space, as did A. S. Ferguson & Company, toy sellers.

Oddly enough, while the garment industry moved north of 34th Street by mid-century, the Broadway building continued to house textile firms, like Murray Textile Co., Inc. here in the 1970s.  Even as the 20th century waned textile companies, hold overs from the time a century earlier when this neighborhood was the dry goods district, still occupied the upper floors.   In 1992 the ground floor shops housed a restaurant and newsstand.


Today most of the architectural elements have been stripped from the facade of No. 381.  The trendy change in the neighborhood is reflected in the two ground floor shops--a pizza restaurant and a shoe store.  And the fact that the two halves were constructed 35 years apart is, for the most part, unknown among New Yorkers.

photographs by the author