Showing posts with label american express. Show all posts
Showing posts with label american express. Show all posts

Saturday, March 19, 2022

The American Express Company Stables - 46-48 Trinity Place



In the first years following the end of the Civil War, private express mail companies like Adams Express, Wells Fargo and the American Railway Express Company were rapidly growing. Founded in 1850 in Albany, American Express, which established its headquarters in Manhattan at Jay and Hudson Streets, essentially enjoyed a monopoly on the shipment of express goods in the state for two decades.  The scope of its operation by the early 1880's required several stables throughout the city in addition to its Hudson Street freight depot.

As late as 1875 a two-story house sat at 46 Trinity Place and a three-and-a-half story brick converted residence was next door at 48 Trinity Place.  Around 1880 they were demolished and replaced by a three-story brick stable, directly across from the rear entrance to the American Express headquarters building at 65 Broadway.  The unknown architect's Romanesque Revival design featured arched openings connected by decorative bandcourses.  The windows of the third floor wore brick aprons, and cast iron rondels decorated the areas between their brick eyebrows.

The stable extended through the block to Greenwich Street.  It was there at 5:30 on the morning of on September 19, 1889 that Policeman Thomas E. Coghlan came across a man lying in the doorway.  The Evening World reported, "He was in a dazed condition and could not talk.  There were no marks of violence on him."  The well-dressed young man, estimated to be about 30 years old, had been robbed.  "There was nothing found on the man, not even a match," said the article.  "It was evident enough that he had been drugged in some dive, robbed, and then turned out as soon as he was braced up enough to move."

He was taken to a hospital, but died of opium poisoning later that afternoon.  The Evening World wrote, "If any boat's crew has an able seaman missing he may be discovered in this man at the Morgue."

American Express did not own the Trinity Place property, but leased it from the estate of Elizabeth S. Hay.  In 1906 the owners commissioned architect C. G. Clark to enlarge the stables by adding two floors at a cost of $50,000--about $1.48 million today.  On January 30 The Sun reported, "The remodelled [sic] building will be a five story and basement structure, and is to be fitted with a new plumbing and lighting plant, sanitary floors and new staircases."

Other than its slightly different-hued brick, Clark's addition was remarkably seamless.  He deftly matched the original architecture, and took advantage of the slightly protruding, single-bayed section where the pedestrian entrance sat, to create a pseudo tower adorned with a large, terra cotta American Express bulldog logo.  Rather than a cornice, Clark finished the design with a crenellated roofline.



That same year, the United States Express Co. erected its new 23-floor headquarters building at 56-66 Trinity Place at Rector Street.  Two years later the rapidly expanding firm purchased 46-48 Trinity Place.  The Real Estate Record & Guide explained, "The American Express Co. has announced its intention of changing its home," adding, "The express center on lower Broadway is quickly being done away with."  Nevertheless, the American Express headquarters remained at 65 Broadway.  And before the year's end, the United States Express Co. sold 46-48 Trinity Place to the Adams Express Company.

The old stables structure seemed doomed in 1910 when the Adams Express Company announced plans to replace it with a 10-story office building designed by G. K. Hooper.  But the plans stalled, and then died.

The firm retained possession of the building until 1921, when the import and export firm of Smith, Kirkpatrick & Co. moved its offices into the building.  Two years later, it was joined by three departments of the American Railway Express Co.  In its April issue that year the Express Gazette Journal reported that the firm's Traffic, Law and Loss and Damage departments would move from 51 Broadway "to the old Adams Express building at 46-48 Trinity Place, directly in the rear of the American Express building."  

A renovation completed in 1950 resulted in modern offices throughout the building.  Any trace of the old stables, like the truck bay, were erased.  

The rear elevation is a toned-down version of the Trinity Place facade.

On June 25, 1956 The New York Times reported that Smith, Kirkpatrick & Co. had purchased its own building at 47 Beaver Street and would be moving out.  An alteration in 1965 changed the ground floor to a restaurant space, home to Country Life in the 1980's.  In its October 1984 issue, Vegetarian Times wrote, "This large, old-fashioned store and restaurant is operated by a group of twenty Seventh-Day Adventists."  Saying the menu focused on grains, fruits and vegetables, the article added, "Patrons eat on dark wooden tables.  The female staff wears modest, long calico dresses, and serves with a gentle spirit."  In addition to breakfast, lunch and dinner, the restaurant offered classes in "cooking, nutrition, stress management and Bible study."

Country Life was replaced by Scallions in the early 1990's.  Vegetarian Times described it in April 1993 saying its vegan buffet included "no eggs, no dairy products."


Today a delicatessen operates from the much abused ground floor.  The upper facade, however, is amazingly unchanged since G. C. Clark added three floors in 1906--and the terra cotta bulldog deserves a pause.

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

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

The 1854 Bancroft Hotel Building -- No. 922 Broadway


Around 1854, as Broadway just south of the fashionable Union Square filled with refined residences, Jacob Cram build a row of Italianate brick rowhouses on the thoroughfare's east side between 21st and 22nd street.   If Cram’s attractive building at the corner, No. 922, was ever intended as a single-family home it did not remain one for long.

In 1855 George S. Park’s “Select School for Boys” (formerly D. P. Baron’s) occupied the upper floors.  The well-heeled students entered through a door on 21st Street.   As the school prepared to re-open on September 8, 1856, it advertised in the New York Daily Tribune.  “There are three Departments—Senior, Middle, and Primary, with gymnastic Apparatus for physical training.  Circulars may be had at Lockwood’s Bookstore or at the School-rooms.”

The students here were schooled in “Classical, French, English and Primary School,” according to its advertisement the following year.  “Pupils are prepared for college or the counting-room.  Those between the ages of six and ten are under the care of a female teacher.  The Gymnasium is open to all departments.”

In the meantime the street level was home to the showroom of Colt & Whittelsey.  The firm sold chandeliers and gas fixtures to its high-end clientele.   On October 4, 1856 the store advertised a new shipment.   “Fifty New-Pattern Chandeliers—Never before offered in any market, will be OPENED THIS WEEK, for the inspection of purchasers.”

Additionally, homeowners could purchase weather stripping here.  An advertisement a month later urged “Every Dwelling-House should have Mathewson’s Patent Weather Strip on its Doors and French Windows.”  These were described as “a perfect prevention to the ingress of wind, dust and rain, besides being highly ornamental.  Can be applied to any door or window in a few minutes, at a trifling expense.”

For the cautious potential customer Colt & Whittelsey promised “1,000 City references given.”

In addition to lighting fixtures the firm supplied brackets and related chandelier parts and provided installation and customization of the devices.    At a time when most chandeliers were fueled by whale oil, the Colt & Whittelsey offered up-to-the-minute gas fixtures as well.

A May 5, 1857 advertisement in The New-York Tribune touted Colt & Whittelsey's wares (copyright expired)
George s. Park’s school for boys was gone by 1859 and the upper floors of No. 922 had been converted to the Bancroft House hotel.   Run by M. L. and A. W. Bordwell, it had previously been located just a block to the south at No. 906 Broadway.

Julia Fitzgerald was a chambermaid here in December 20 of that year when a friend was invited to a ball.  Apparently her friend had nothing appropriate to wear, so Julia “borrowed” jewelry—a gold bracelet and breastpin—from the room of a guest, Mr. Duscom.  She also borrowed $25.

Since she had not bothered to inform Mr. Duscom of the loan, he complained and the chambermaid was detained by Judge Quackenbush.  On January 12 she appeared in court before Judge Russell. The New York Times reported that “As she made it appear probably that she had only used it as a personal decoration for a party to which she was invited, judgment was suspended.”

Her employment at the Bancroft House was suspended as well.

The fish-scale slate shingles survive after nearly a century and a half .
Exactly one year later South Carolina seceded from the Union and the first storm clouds that would become the Civil War formed.   By 1864 the nation was embroiled in a bloody conflict.  On Saturday October 1 of that year a group of “War Democrats” chaired by Peter Cooper met at the Bancroft House.

The delegates agreed on “no surrender of flag or principles to rebels in arms against the country, and no armistice that would give the traitors any advantages over the soldiers of the Union,” reported The Times.

Three days later the group met here again.  It resolved to appoint a Committee of War Democrats to work with the War Democratic State Committee of the State of New York, and the War Democratic General Committee of the City and County of New York to make arrangements for a “mass Convention of the War Democracy in the City of New York” prior to the upcoming election.  The committee was composed of the leading names of the city, including A. T. Stewart, George Butler, and Edwards Pierrepont.

The New York Times noted that “After some patriotic speeches, during which much enthusiasm was evinced, the meeting adjourned.”

Not all of the guests at the Bancroft House were travelers.  Seth Adams had lived here two years when in January 1865 he was sued by Andrew j. Millspaugh for “alleged criminal intercourse with his wife.” 

T. Redding was a long-term resident here as well.  In January 1866 he wrote to the Editor of The New York Times in support of the proposed mass transit—subways and elevated trains.

Regarding the “tunnel and aerial roads” he wrote “I know, Mr. Editor, there is no room for any argument as to the great benefit that would accrue from this enterprise.  An axiom needs no investigation.  It is a fixed fact that one or both roads must be built, and that soon.”   The passionate Mr. Redding plead, “In the name of suffering pedestrians, let it be done.”

Despite its proximity to the exclusive Fifth Avenue Hotel on 23rd Street and Broadway, the Bancroft House remained popular as a respectable and more affordable hotel.   Room rates were advertised at 50 cents, 75 cents and $1 per day with “weekly reductions.”

The tony American Jockey Club rented long-term rooms at the Bancroft in the Spring of 1868 for its “subscription rooms.”   The club met here on June 4 to discuss the new betting procedures based on the London Tattersalls.  In stilted Victorian prose the secretary noted “The obligations contracted there, although not subject to enforcement in the courts of law, have always been rigidly kept, even at the cost or utter ruin to the unfortunate backer of the beaten horses.  The only bond has been the word of honor of gentlemen, and the wreck of many a princely fortune and the forced expatriation of many a proud nobleman, have born testimony to the fidelity with which the bond has been paid.”

Not everything went perfectly at the Bancroft House.    Only a month earlier Mrs. Margaret Butler returned to her rooms here around 2:00 in the afternoon of May 27.  She noticed that the door, which she had locked, was forced open.  Hearing her at the door, two men rushed past and darted down the stairs.

The New York Times reported “Sensing the true state of the case, she followed them, crying ‘Stop thief!’”  A police officer apprehended one of the thieves, William Wall, whom the newspaper called “a man of respectable and sedate appearance.”  Wall had on him burglar tools including four skeleton keys, a pair of nippers and a jimmy.  The other man “mysteriously disappeared.”

In the early 1880s Amos R. Eno owned the property.  Eno was a major player in the real estate field and also held title to the strange triangular plot of land just across Broadway which would later become the site of the Flatiron Building.   In June 1884 he sold No. 922 to Charles W. Burgoyne, a “provision dealer,” for $138,750 who established his store on the ground floor.  By now it had gained a handsome mansard roof, adding an entire floor, and had been extended back along 21st Street from 65 feet to 97 feet.

A bizarre string of suicides in the hotel occurred over the next two decades.  In May 1891 Thomas Atchison, just 21 years old, shot himself in the temple with a revolver.  He was a bellboy at the Hotel Clarendon.  On August 24, 1895 61-year old Ferdinand William Herrman, who had lost his fortune and was despondent over the financial troubles to his family, took poison.   Six years later on December 12, Frank Neumann drank carbolic acid here.  The 30-year old lived in Newark, New Jersey.  And on July 30, news correspondent Joseph B. McShane filled his room with gas and died for no apparent reason.

A ghastly murder-suicide occurred on July 30, 1887.   John E. Emmerson had been employed as a porter by the Bancroft House for about five months, but he resigned to work at the Astor House.   The middle-aged man whom the New York Tribune described as “of surly disposition and unsocial in his relations with other employees,” kept his rooms on the third floor here, though. 

19-year old Charles Greer, who was visiting the United States from Ireland, had run out of money and while waiting for funds to arrive from home, took a temporary job at the Bancroft House so he would not have to borrow from friends.  It was a fatal decision.

The Tribune reported that he “was butchered in a most brutal manner by John E. Emmerson…After killing Greer, Emmerson killed himself.  There was absolutely no provocation for the murder and suicide, and the only explanation of the tragedy was the supposed insanity of Emmerson.”

On October 26, 1888 Burgoyne received $200 for allowing the Committee of Democrats and Independents to attach one end of a banner to the Bancroft House.   The banner, which stretched across 21st Street, read “For President, Grover Cleveland.  For Vice-President, Allen G. Thurman.  For Governor, Warner Miller.  For Clean Government and Ballot Reform.”  Except for the names, nothing much has changed in a century and a half.

The Sun commented on the imposing banner.  “It is made of netting, with the portraits of the three candidates on canvas attached to the netting.  Its workmanship is excellent.  It is perhaps the prettiest banner in town.”

Despite the scattered earlier tragedies, the Bancroft House continued its long run of success.  In 1896 the hotel was entirely refurbished and renovated.  It now offered rooms to “gentlemen only.”

In 1904 the property was owned by a young girl, Ruth Stephenson, who had inherited it from William W. Stephenson.  Her guardian, George G. Stephenson petitioned the courts on August 22 to raze the venerable Bancroft House and erect a 12-story mercantile building.  Stephenson argued that the annual income was about $20,000—“much less than it should yield if properly improved.”

Despite his attempts, young Ruth Stephenson stayed in the hotel business.
In 1909 the building is whitewashed and an American Express office is on the ground floor -- NYPL Collection
For some time American Express ran a branch office from the ground floor.  Then in 1919 Max Haber, who owned the Delmonico, Waldorf and Columbia restaurants, leased the store and basement of No. 922 Broadway where he established a restaurant and bakery.   The space would remain a restaurant for decades and in January 1927 the K & B Lunch Company took the lease for 21 years.

Brick panels on the chimney fronts add architectural interest.
By the middle of the century the stretch of Broadway below 23rd Street was a bit dowdy and the once-respectable Bancroft Hotel was now called the Court Hotel—a little less respectable.

But in 1978 the upper floors were converted to four roomy “Class A” apartments per floor.   Today the street level has been mostly obliterated.  But the distinguished bulk of the hotel and its handsome slate-shingled mansard is highly unchanged from the days when gentlemen paid $1 for the best room in the house.

non-credited photographs taken by the author

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The American Express Stables -- No. 157 Hudson Street


The restored Hubert Street facade.  Built as two stories, it was the original structure in 1866 -- photo by Alice Lum
Prior to the Civil War St. John’s Park was one of the most exclusive residential neighborhoods of Manhattan. Along with the fine brick Federal-style residences that lined the square was the majestic 1807 Georgian-style St. John’s Chapel.

But in 1867 Trinity Church sold the park to the Hudson River Railroad for $1 million. The railroad built a freight depot and the elegant neighborhood was no more. Rapidly the homes were replaced with warehouses and small factories that took advantage of the proximity to the railroad.

At the same time, private express mail companies like Adams Express, Wells Fargo and American Express were rapidly growing. Founded in 1850 in Albany, American Express established its headquarters in Manhattan at Jay and Hudson Streets and essentially enjoyed a monopoly on the shipment of express goods in the state for two decades.

Even before the freight depot was built, American Express erected at two-story stable at Nos. 4 to 8 Hubert Street in 1866, designed by architects Ritch & Griffiths. The stark brick building did not pretend to be anything other than a utilitarian building with little ornamentation.

The newly-completed Hudson River Railway depot sat approximately one block away, directly across from the house at No. 157 Hudson Street. The owner of the house was quick to react, along with other wealthy residents. The commodious residence—25 feet wide—sat on a lot that extended 109 feet back, in the middle of the block between Hubert and Laight Streets. The homeowner sold the property on April 20, 1870 for $24,750 in cash, which The New York Times deemed “very cheap at the price.”

While American Express was operating its stable from Hubert Street, the United States Army established a cavalry rendezvous local recruiting office around the corner at No. 157 Hudson Street in the 1880s.

Although funds transfers and long-distance finance had already become an important part of the firm’s operations—the American Express Travelers Cheque was copyrighted in 1891—American Express recognized the need to enlarge the Hubert Street facility in 1898. Architect Edward Hale Kimball was commissioned to extend the stable through the entire block along Collier Street to Laight Street.

The original, Hubert Street entrance in 1937 long after Kimball's renovations--photo NYPL Collection
It was most likely at this time that the entire structure was increased to three stories. Kimball updated the original façade, melding it with the addition by matching the keyed window surrounds and introducing a mixture of Romanesque Revival and Renaissance Revival styles; both highly popular at the time.

The American Express bulldog appears in terra cotta relief on both the Laight and Hubert Street facades -- photo by Alice Lum
On both the Laight Street and Hubert Street sides, Kimball added a robust terra cotta bulldog logo in a rondel under a shallow stepped parapet. The renovations were completed a year later, in 1899.

Only three years later, in 1902, the building was enlarged again. Architect Charles Romeyn widened the Laight Street side. He also added a long, narrow extension through the middle of the block to No. 157 Hudson Street where the Cavalry had been headquartered, creating a T-shaped structure.

The enlarged stables stretched the length of the Collier Street block -- photo by Alice Lum
The days of horses and drays for the American Express Company were numbered, however. In 1913 the parcel post system was established, wielding a significant blow to the express companies. By 1918 American Express was gone and a railroad freight firm, the American Railway Express Company, was using the building.

The building was renovated again in 1946 when architect Henry G. Harrington remodeled it for use as the factory of the First Machinery Corporation, manufacturers of plastic and rubber products. Harrington also remodeled the Hudson Street façade by adding stone pilasters and arches framing the entrances.

Harrington's addition at No. 157 Hudson forming the base of the T-shaped building (seen far right) stands next to two derelict Federal homes, still remarkably intact in 1922.  Their marble arches and lintels, even their elegant entranceways and iron railings are still in place.
First Machinery Corporation ran its factory here through the 1950s.

The narrow Hudson Street facade shows the 1946 changes, prior to the 2006 renovation -- photo NYPL Collection
As TriBeca experienced a renaissance, the old American Express stables saw change. Where horses and then machinery were once housed, No. 157 Hudson was now a hot night spot. Three different nightclubs—Headley, Vinyl and Area—were here. In 1997, despite more than one shooting at Vinyl, the club’s owner Nick DiTomasso said “…they’re just dancing. It’s all about dancing.”

When Peter Moore purchased the building in 2004, it needed serious reviving -- photo ny.curbed.com
The sometimes eyebrow-raising activities came to a halt when developer Peter Moore bought the building in 2004 for $18 million. Working with architect Kevin Kennon he brought the deteriorating structure back to life.

The Laight Street side in 2006 as construction begins -- photo by Skye H. McFarlane for Downtown Express
After struggling for awhile with the Landmarks Preservation Commission over a proposed three-story rooftop addition, Moore settled for a compromise of a two-story addition invisible from the street. The resulting multifamily structure had 17 unique loft apartments averaging 3,000 square feet each.

Architect Kevin Kennon's model shows the rooftop addition, engineered to be invisible from the street -- photo worldarchitecturenews.com
One apartment went a bit further. Called “Marble House,” the 9,200 square foot triplex had an entrance on Collister Street to the rear, four bedrooms, five baths, a kitchen sink “quarried from one 2-ton piece of Carrara marble,” a below-ground swimming pool and a price tag of $24.5 million in 2009. (In 2011 most apartments were going for a more affordable $3 million or so.)

photo by Alice Lum
Nearly a century and a half after the original stable was built, it serves as a fine example of reuse of an historic property.