The 1902 The Braender Apartments - 418 Central Park West

 

image via streeteasy.com

Born in Germany, Philip Braender arrived in New York as a youth.  At the turn of the last century, he was a visible player in the development of the Upper West Side.  In 1901 he commissioned architect Frederick C. Browne to design a ten-story "brick flat" at the southwest corner of Central Park West and 102nd Street.  Browne's plans projected the construction cost at $400,000--a significant $15.6 million in 2026.

Completed the following year, The Braender's French Renaissance design was splashed with Spanish Baroque Revival touches.  Clad in gray brick above the two-story stone base, The Braender's turret-like rounded bays and corbeled cornice were inspired from French chateaux and gave the building an exotic charm.  A lacy cast iron balcony girded the third floor and intricate Baroque-style terra cotta ornaments decorated the third, fourth and tenth floors.  At the ninth were balconies "capped with red Spanish tile in strong contrast to the prevailing color," as described by The World's New York Apartment House Album.

The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Braender's H-shape plan created a deep courtyard, which was entered "through a high columned archway, elaborately carved and ornamented," as described by The World's New York Apartment House Album.  Residents entered under a glass and iron marquee into a coffered ceilinged foyer that opened into a veined-marble lobby.

There were typically three apartments per floor ranging from five to twelve rooms with one to three baths.  Rents ranged (by today's conversion) from $1,650 to $3,300 per month.  An advertisement boasted that The Braender was "not exceeded in dignity and architectural beauty by any similar structure."

The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Braender's tenants were affluent and professional.  Among the early residents were Charles Herbert Stoddard and his wife, the former Frances Henrietta Thebault.  An attorney, Stoddard was also the president and director of the Builders' Construction Company.

Also in the building at the time were Carlos Benito Figueredo, Consul General of Venezuela, and his wife Louise Calcafio.  The New-York Tribune called Louise "one of the belles of Caracas."  The couple had one child, Gloria.  On May 5, 1907, the New-York Tribune reported that the Figueredos "celebrated their silver wedding last night at their home."  The article said that there were  a "hundred or more guests at the dance and dinner."

Mrs. A. Guiterrez, a widow, lived here with her daughter, Lola, as early as 1914.  Like all their moneyed neighbors, they summered in fashionable resorts.  They traveled to Winthrop, Maine during the first week of July that year.  About a week later, on July 13, they attempted to walk across the train trestle near the hotel.  The New York Times reported that they "were struck and killed tonight by a train on the Main Central Railroad."  The article said that the horrific incident occurred "in the view of guests on the hotel piazzas and in boats on the lake."

On February 22, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that the new owner, Frederick Bangerter, had "devised a tenant ownership plan for the Braender."  The plan to convert the building to a cooperative moved forward with lightning speed.  An advertisement a month later urged, "own a select apartment in a palatial home, with all the modern comforts--steam heat, hot water, day and night elevator service, etc., etc."  Fifty of the apartments had been converted while, according to the advertisement, "The income of the remaining 25 apartments pays in full for taxes and all other running costs and charges."

Surprisingly, by the time Wurts Bros. took this photograph, the iron cresting had been removed from the cornice.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The Braender's most celebrated tenants at the time were the Stoner family.  Dr. James Buchanan Stoner was born in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 1861.  He was known nationwide for his work against epidemics, starting with the smallpox epidemic of 1888.  He married educator Dr. Winifred Sackville on February 3, 1900 and their only child, Winifred Sackville Stoner Jr. was born in 1902.  (Because her daughter, who would earn prominence on her own, bore her identical name, Dr. Stoner was often referred to as Mother Stoner.)

Winifred Jr. was a prodigy.  Under her mother's tutelage, she was able to speak multiple languages by the age of ten.  At the age of nine, she passed the Stanford University and University of Wisconsin-Madison entrance exams.

On December 26, 1921, the Stoners announced their 19-year-old daughter's marriage to Charles de Bruche.  The couple was married in the Stoner apartment four months earlier, "with none but the family present," explained The New York Times.  The article said, "Miss Stoner wishes to avoid publicity having as a young girl had columns published about her education, the books and the verses she had written and the eight languages she could speak before she was twelve years old, owing to her mother's remarkable system of education."  The newlyweds, said the article, "will divide their time between Paris and New York when they are not traveling."

Winifred and Charles de Bruche were in Mexico the following summer.  De Bruche had told his bride "that he was a composer, poet and member of a noble French family, entitled to call himself a count," according to Winifred Jr.  Less than a year later she told a reporter that she learned "that he was not of noble birth and was not a person of good repute."  De Bruche disappeared and in August Winifred received a telephone call from his friend, Frank Davis, telling her that her husband "had been killed in Mexico City" in an automobile crash.

On September 1, the New-York Tribune reported, "Funeral services for Charles Philippe de Bruche, husband of Winifred Sackville Stoner jr., were held yesterday at 418 Central Park West, the home of his wife's parents."  The ceremony was, apparently, more accurately described as a memorial service, since there was no body.

Dr. James Buchanan Stoner died on July 22, 1925.  In reporting his death, The New York Times recounted his long history of fighting epidemics throughout the United States.  It noted, additionally, that he was a relative of President James Buchanan.

The Braender's heavily-veined marble lobby remains virtually intact.  image via cocoran.com

After Winifred Stoner de Bruche married Louis Hyman, her mother continued to occupy The Braender apartment.  In 1925 she was a member of the Citizens' Committee for Music and published the monthly Mother Stoner's Bulletin, which outlined the Stoner philosophy of education.  In 1925 she founded the League for Fostering Genius.

On August 21, 1927, a reporter from The New York Times visited Mother Stoner's apartment for information about her daughter's divorce from Louis Hyman.  She said that she hoped Winifred would join her "to carry on the work of helping young genius."  And indeed, the mother and daughter initiated "a genius hunt covering all the United States and most of the Western Continental Europe" that month, as reported by the newspaper.

Mother Stoner explained to the reporter that there "are six classes of people:

Idiots, she said, were like jellyfish and common weeds; destructionists were often clever but dangerous, like the boll weevil and poisonous weeks; morons were like pigs and vegetables; the hyper-morons (or norms) were those with 16-year mentalities with whom the world is largely filled...The only two classes worth preserving were the geniuses, she said...and the progressionists or builders.

(She explained that progressionists included "men who constantly seek to make their business more efficient."  They included "newspaper men, bankers and highway robbers.")

The following month, on September 20, 1927, The New York Times reported, "'Mother' Stoner returned from Philadelphia yesterday to her home at 418 Central Park West.  She reports that she discovered six geniuses and 300 talented children during her Philadelphia stay."  The article added, "Winifred 2d is now in Paris, looking for geniuses there, her mother said."

Now divorced, Winifred Jr. moved back to 418 West Central Park West.  She received an arcane telephone message in November 1929, "suggesting that she go to the lobby of the Hotel Ansonia."  She did and saw her long-dead husband, Charles de Bruche there.  The New York Times said that he "was living at the Hotel Bretton Hall."  On December 12, the newspaper said she had filed suit to annul her marriage because she "finds herself still the wife of De Bruche."

This photograph of Winifred Jr. may have been taken in the Braender apartment.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

In 1931, Winifred Jr. married Earl Winston Harrison and moved to Los Angeles.  Later that year, on November 10, Winifred "Mother" Sackville Stoner died in her Braender apartment at the age of 49.  In reporting her death, The New York Times listed her books, which included Natural Education, Mother Stoner Nursery Rhymes, Arithmetic Through Play, Games With Aims, and Castles in Spain.  

Somewhat overshadowed by the Stoners in the building were prominent residents like Dr. Maurice H. Harris and his wife, the former Kitty Green.  Born in London in 1859, Harris was ordained a rabbi in 1882.  He had been rabbi of Temple Israel since 1885.  On February 8, 1925, the congregation hosted a tea and reception in appreciation of his 40 years of service.

Dr. Sergius Ingerman lived here as early as 1934.  That year he sent a telegram to President Franklin D. Roosevelt that said in part, "We implore you to use your influence to bring about the cessation of the mass executions in Soviet Russia."  Born in Russia in 1868, Ingerman was a specialist in eye diseases and a member of the American Academy of Ophthalmology and Otolaryngology and the New York Academy of Medicine.  

Dr. Sergius Ingerman, from House of Wisdom

More importantly, he was highly active in the socialist movement and a founder of the Russian Social Democratic Society.  His wife, Anna Amitin, died in 1931.  Their only child was Dr. Eugenia Ingerman.  Interman remained in The Braender until his death in 1943.

That year the building was sold to New York Savings Bank, which reconverted it to rental apartments.  The New York Times reported that it "was remodeled by the bank into eighty-eight suites."

Among the residents at the time were Dr. Walter L. Hervey, a retired member of the Board of Examiners of the Board of Education, and his wife Antoinette Bryant Hervey.  Antoinette was described by The New York Times as the "dean of women photographers in New York."  

A graduate of the Clarence H. White School of Photography, Antoinette Hervey made a 25-year photographic record of the construction of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine.  In doing so, she sometimes climbed the scaffolding high above the ground to get her shots.  In 1938 she donated her 3,000 prints to the Cathedral and a duplicate set to the New-York Historical Society.

John Thompson and his wife lived in a sixth-floor apartment here in the mid-1960s.  Thompson was a director of the Fairfield Foundation, which promoted international cultural exchanges.  Through that institution, the couple became acquainted with Nathan Nakasa, a 25-year-old Nigerian journalist who arrived in America in 1964 as a Neiman Fellow at Harvard University. 

Nakasa was an outspoken critic of Apartheid.  In his homeland he had edited The Classic, a literary magazine, and was on the staff of the magazine Drum of Johannesburg.  While here he wrote two pieces for The New York Times Magazine.  In 1965, after his one-year fellowship, the South African Government refused to allow him to return home.

The writer, who was living on Lenox Avenue, was understandably depressed.  On July 24, 1965, The New York Amsterdam News wrote, "Told of Nakasa's mood, Mr. and Mrs. John Thompson of 418 Central Park West, asked him over to their apartment Tuesday."  The article said that they talked about his troubles "at length" and attempted to ease his mind.  But shockingly, at around 9:10, Nakasa rushed to a window and jumped.  He died instantly.

Tonal composer Ben Weber lived here within the next decade.  Born in St. Louis in 1916 and never married, he came to New York in 1945.  Among his compositions were the Symphony on Poems of William Blake, the Violin Concerto, the Consort of Winds and the Concert Aria After Solomon.  The celebrated composer died of a heart attack in his apartment at the age of 62 on May 11, 1979.

photograph by Jim Henderson

Nine years before Weber's death, The Braender underwent an alteration.  It was likely at this time that the spectacular cornice was removed and ninth-floor balconies stripped off, leaving the once picturesque structure sadly denuded.

Henry Fernbach's 1883 121-123 Greene Street

 

The Greene Street neighborhood developed a sordid reputation following the Civil War.  Brothels occupied many of the former homes and 121 Greene Street was not an exception.  At around midnight on January 17, 1862, for instance, a patron was removed after "during the act of coition, he was attacked with palsy," according to Dr. Edward C. Sequin.  (He most likely suffered a minor stroke.)   And the New York Dispatch reported on January 12, 1879, "When Justice Otterbourg ordered a complaint to be made against No. 121 Greene street, he no doubt hoped the police would get the evidence to convict.  Possibly the thing was impossible.  The surrounding neighbors could not very well go into court to complain, being in the same business."

At the time of Justice Otterbourg's frustration, things were changing in the Greene Street neighborhood.  Millinery and drygoods firms were inching northward and the old two- and three-story houses were being replaced by commercial structures.  

Julius and Adolph Lewisohn operated the millinery supply firm Lewisohn Bros., which imported and manufactured ostrich feathers, artificial flowers, "bristles, hair, vegetable fibre, &c."  In 1882 they purchased and demolished the buildings at 121 and 123 Greene Street and hired architect Henry Fernbach to design a replacement loft and store building.  Fernbach was busy in the Soho area at the time.  As a matter of fact, he was simultaneously designing the two abutting buildings as 125 and 127 Greene Street.

Construction began on June 28, 1882 and was completed nine months later--the use of a cast iron facade enabling the rapid rise of the six-story structure.  Ferbach's ornate design, a commercial blend of French Renaissance and Second Empire, featured columns with elaborate capitals (a close inspection reveals a melding of Corinthian and Ionic orders), and fluted pilasters at the ends with stylized acanthus motifs.  Each floor was defined by an intermediate cornice.  The entablature of the terminal cornice was distinguished by acanthus leaves alternating with brackets.  Prominent antefixes sprouted above the cornice.

Sharing the building with Lewisohn Bros. were the offices and showroom of the hat manufacturing firm Ferry & Napier.  It was founded by George J. Ferry in 1856 and became Ferry & Napier in 1879 when he partnered with Ernest Napier.  The factory in Newark, New Jersey employed 250 workers.  

In 1883, according to The Evening Post, Ferry became suspicious of the Newark bookkeeper James F. Bull, "because the profits of the factory fell behind what they would naturally be."  He sent Bull on vacation and then brought in the head bookkeeper, who worked in the Greene Street office, to examine the books.  He immediately discovered embezzlement.  The clever Bull had meticulously recorded the weekly payroll, and the individual figures were checked by the factory supervisor John W. Green.  What Green did not double-check, however, were the totals.  Each week Bull padded the total payroll amount by $10 to $50.  The Evening Post reported, "Ferry thinks the total sum taken will amount to between $3,000 and $4,000." (The higher amount would equal approximately $112,000 in 2023.)

Both men were fired, the supervisor "for negligence" for not discovering the scheme.   Somewhat surprisingly, after the 52-year-old Bull admitted his guilt and paid back what he could, Ferry did not press charges.

In the early 1890s Levi Bros. & Blum, which dealt in "notions and dressmaking supplies" was in the building.  For years it had been "the largest importers of high-class Notions in the country," according to The Evening World on January 19, 1894.

Also in the building at the time were two furriers, Albert Herzig, Sons & Co., and Isaac Levi.  The former employed 75 men, 60 women, and 22 girls under 21 years of age in their shop.  The staff worked 53 hours a week.

Fur Trade Review, August, 1893 (copyright expired)

In 1893 Isaac Levi took an extended buying trip to Europe, leaving brothers Adolph and Montague Berhard in charge of the New York operation.  He shipped $100,000 worth of furs from London, a significant three-and-a-quarter million in today's dollars.  A year later he told a reporter, "They did not remit any money last year, and explained that the crisis in America had prevented sales."  (That crisis was the Financial Panic of 1893.)  The excuse made sense, and Levi was unsuspecting.

He arrived back in New York at the beginning of 1894 to discover that Adolph had gone to Europe in December.  "Montague told me that my goods were all in bond, and a short time after my arrival he also left for Europe," said Levi.  "My suspicions were not even then aroused."

But in March, he visited the custom house brokers where he discovered that only half of the goods were in the warehouse.  An investigation showed that the brothers had sold much of the inventory before leaving the country.  But if the Berhards thought they could live the high life on their ill-gotten fortunes abroad, they underestimated their employer.  On May 1, 1894, The Press reported, "Isaac Levi of 123 Greene street, said yesterday: 'I caused the arrest of Adolph and Montague Bernhard in London."  The Evening World noted, "At the prisoners' lodgings a large quantity of valuable property, said to belong to Mr. Levi, was seized."  And Isaac Levi was much less forgiving than George J. Ferry had been.  "They were remanded for a week this morning in London, and will be brought back here for trial."

In 1905 Harry L. Block leased the building "for a long term of years."  His firm manufactured "ladies' and misses' skirts."  He subleased space to apparel maker Natkin & Laitin; cotton goods merchant Siegbert & Co.; and silk dealer Max Kempfer.

from Forest Leaves, 1910 (copyright expired)

Siegbert & Co. was headed by Samuel Siegbert who, according to The New York Press, "made a fortune in Prairie du Chien, Wis., and lived lavishly in a fourteen-room apartment."  That apartment, where Siegberg lived with his wife and daughter, was on the sixth floor of the Ardsley Court on Central Park West.  But his otherwise idyllic life was tortured by back pain.

On February 25, 1905, the family had breakfast together, after which Siegbert went into his study.  A few minutes later the telephone rang.  The New York Press reported, "Asked over the building telephone if any one had fallen from her apartment, Mrs. Siegbert ran to her husband's study and, finding the door locked, called for help.  The door was forced, a window was found open, and, looking down into the court behind the house, Mrs. Siegbert saw her husband's body and fell back unconscious."

Explaining that Siegbert had been "crazed by lumbago pains," the article said his gruesome plunge from the sixth floor window landed him head first on an iron fence where "one of the sharp points pierced his skull, holding him transfixed.  His neck was broken and one of his legs was fractured in two places."

Max Kempfer was the victim of an all-too-familiar crime in the Greene Street building over the decades.  In January 1908 he had 16-year-old employee Moses Neufeld arrested on grand larceny charges for stealing a large quantity of silk.  The teen still had the goods when he was apprehended.  In court on January 7, the boy's attorney asked Magistrate Kernochan permission to request that Kempfer devalue the silk from $47 to $25, "and thus reduce the charge to petit larceny," according to The Sun.  The magistrate said he was willing to allow it, but Kempfer was less sympathetic.  The Sun reported, "Mr. Kemper said he couldn't conscientiously swear to a different valuation on the silk."  Neufelt was held on $1,000 bail awaiting trial.

A new type of tenant arrived following the end of World War I.  The Peerless Doll Company operated from the building in 1918, and the following year doll maker Reisman Barron & Co., Inc, took three floors.  A notice dated December 29, 1919 called the new location "one of the largest and most complete doll factories in the city."

An advertisement in Toys and Novelties in April 1920 noted, "One entire floor is used for our head factory, which has an output of over sixty thousand head[s] per week, another is used for the manufacture of the complete doll, our third floor is used for storing all raw materials."

Dry Goods Economist, August 5, 1922 (copyright expired)

Also in the building in 1921 were the Victory Box Company, Inc., makers of cardboard boxes; and Samuel Hymes & Sons, cotton converters.  The latter firm  however, was about to cease business.

On July 16, 1921 the New-York Tribune reported that brothers Philip and Irwin Hymes had been arrested on grand larceny charges.  In a desperate attempt to keep afloat the company which their father had founded, they had defrauded two banks by providing false financial statements.  They obtained large credit lines as well as $25,000 in cash.  The two institutions filed charges after Samuel Hymes & Sons filed bankruptcy on February 5, 1921.

The Soho neighborhood was industrial and gritty in the 1950s and '60s.  The I. H. Manufacturing Co. occupied space in 121 Green Street, where it made "TV picture tube boosters and accessories, sockets for tubes, transistors and crystals."  But change was on the horizon.  The third quarter of the century saw Soho discovered by artists, who used the vast industrial lofts for studio and living space.  The store fronts became galleries and cafes.

Two views of the building in the 1980s.  Despite the abuse, the historic elements of the architecture, including the original doors, survived.  images via josephpelllombardi.com

In March 1978 the Pincar Gallery opened in 121 Greene Street.  The upper floors were converted to cooperative housing in 1988 by the architectural restoration firm of Joseph Pell Lombardi.  On June 12 that year, The New York Times mentioned, "When a building at 123 Greene Street became a residential co-op recently, the unrenovated 4,000-square-foot floors sold briskly for about $800,000 apiece."

Galleries came and went.  In the early 1990s the Sperone Westwater Gallery was here and would remain at least through 2000.  Modern Age Gallery exhibited from 1992 to about 1995, and Douglas Blau had space in 1993.  By 2014 the ground floor was shared by the Proenza Schouler boutique and Warby Parker eyeglasses, the latter opening in April 2013.

Sadly, Greene Street is too narrow for the observer to get an optimum perspective of Henry Fernbach's striking cast iron building.  It is wonderfully intact, including the delicate capitals, often the first elements to rust and fall away.

photographs by the author

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The Lost William K. Vanderbilt, Jr. Mansion - 666 Fifth Avenue

 

from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Few boys were born into more wealth, privilege and luxury than was William Kissam Vanderbilt, Jr. (familiarly known as Willie K.).  The second child of William Kissam Vanderbilt and Alva Erskine Smith, he grew up in the sumptuous "Petite Chateau" at the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 52nd Street.   Like other heirs to massive fortunes, Willie K. received a private education--first by tutors and then at St. Mark's School.  Although he enrolled in Harvard University, he left after his second year.

In 1897 the Herman Oelrichs family moved into the former marble mansion of Mary Mason Jones on the northeast corner of 57th Street and Fifth Avenue.  Living with the family was Theresa Fair Oelrich's teenage sister, Virginia Fair.  Their father, James Graham Fair, had died in 1894, leaving each a personal fortune estimated at around $414 million in today's money.

The New York Times said of Virginia, “She was popular from her first entrance into society, and while not exactly a great belle, has always been much liked, both in New York and Newport.”  Newspapers reported that "society took notice" during the summer season of 1897 in Newport when the 18-year-old William K. Vanderbilt, Jr. "showed attention" to

Virginia, known popularly as Birdie.

That attention grew serious and on April 2, 1899 The New York Times reported, "Workmen were busy all day yesterday in the residence of Mr. Hermann Oelrichs, 1 East Fifty-seventh Street."  An army of decorators, carpenters and florists were preparing the conservatory and ballroom for the wedding of Willie K. and Birdie.

The newlyweds originally moved into the Petite Chateau with William's father (he and Alva Vanderbilt had gone through a divorce that rocked the foundations of high society in 1895).  Then, soon after William Sr. married Anne Harriman in 1903, he gave his son and daughter-in-law the two properties at 666 and 668 Fifth Avenue.

The two brownstones, separated from the Vanderbilt mansion by a service alley, would be the site of Willie K's new home.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On April 9, 1904 the Real Estate Record & Guide announced that McKim, Mead & White had been chosen to design the new Vanderbilt residence, saying "nothing definite has yet been decided."  That had all changed four months later when the journal reported, "The two old four-story brownstone dwellings will be demolished and an entirely new structure will be built...The new house will resemble in style, design and material the older [Vanderbilt mansion] and will assure to Fifth avenue another splendid architectural acquisition."

William poses with a stuffed alligator while Birdie sits in an ornate wicker "rolling chair."  photo vanderbiltcupraces.com

Construction was started in April 1905, just as William and Virginia's country estate, Deepdale, designed by  Carrère & Hastings was being completed.  The Fifth Avenue project was headed by Stanford White and he harmoniously melded the architecture of the new mansion with that of Richard Morris Hunt's masterpiece next door.   

Unlike that residence, with its broad, low staircase that rose from the sidewalk, William K. Vanderbilt, Jr.'s mansion would be entered at street level, through a gaping Gothic arch that was echoed by the two first floor windows.  White leaned a bit more toward the French Gothic than did Hunt, using crockets, square headed drip moldings, and spiky pinnacles in its decoration.

It is almost certain that White also designed the interiors, described as "sumptuously furnished," as he did for most of his commissions.   He would never see the completed mansion, however.  He was murdered on June 25, 1906, a year before the project was finished.

The McKim, Mead & White floorplans.  from "A Monograph of the Work of McKim, Mead & White 1879-1915" (publ. 1920.)

The Vanderbilts had hardly moved in before the Record & Guide hinted at buyers' remorse.  Despite the hard battle Fifth Avenue millionaires had waged for years, commercial interests were inching ever closer to Vanderbilt territory.  On October 3, 1908 the journal wrote, "A prominent real estate broker has recently made the prediction that the business part of Fifth avenue would extend as far north as 59th street, but no further."  The article noted that mansions of Delancy Kane and William K. Vanderbilt, Jr. "have been completed only a couple of years; and yet already it is probable that their owners would, if they still had any choice, build on different locations."  And only a month later the Record & Guide reported that the abutting house at 670 Fifth Avenue would be altered "as showrooms for carriages and automobiles."

The side-by-side Vanderbilt mansions were in architectural harmony.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The commercial invasion into their neighborhood perhaps paled to the upheaval going on inside the Vanderbilt mansion.   Tensions between William and Virginia had grown untenable and in 1909 Willie moved out.  Divorce, as far as Virginia was concerned, was out of the question.  While her husband was Episcopalian, she was a Roman Catholic.

Virginia remained in the residence with the couple's three children, nine-year-0ld Muriel, six-year old Consuelo (named for her aunt who married the Duke of Marlboro the same year her parents divorced), and two-year old William Kissam Vanderbilt III.

Entertainments went on.  On January 4, 1914, for instance, The Sun announced, "Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, Jr., is giving a large dance to-morrow night at her house, 666 Fifth avenue."  And on January 9, 1917 The Buffalo Enquirer noted, "Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, Jr., on Monday evening, will give a dance for Miss Flora Payne Whitney at her house, No. 666 Fifth avenue.  Miss Whitney is the daughter of Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney."

As was the case with all New York City mansions, the Vanderbilt house was closed during the hot summer months with only a skeleton staff left behind, mostly for security reasons.  At 2 a.m. on June 11, 1919 police were notified that burglars had entered the mansion.  The butler was awakened by the police ringing the doorbell.  He said "the first he heard of any burglar was when the police arrived," according to the New-York Tribune.

The article said, "Reserves from the East Fifty-second Street station and patrolmen from nearby posts arrived in large numbers."  They formed a cordon around the block while detectives searched the residents for intruders."  The excitement resulted in Fifth Avenue being "filled with a crowd of neighbors and persons from uptown hotels and Broadway loiterers."  But it turned out to be someone's idea of a prank.

The police were not amused in the least.  The New-York Tribune reported, "When it was learned that the alarm was a hoax, Police Captain Henry and a squad of men raided a number of resorts along Broadway and rounded up about thirty persons, demanding their reasons for being out at 'such an hour.'"

Muriel's debutante entertainments began in 1921.  On January 13 the New-York Tribune reported, "Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt 2d, who has been giving a series of dinners this season, gave a large affair of this kind last night at her home...for her daughter, Miss  Muriel Vanderbilt."  There were 80 at dinner and another 200, "many of them of the younger married set," came for dancing later.  There was also "exhibition dancing by professionals and other entertainers."

Muriel's introduction to society lasted throughout the year.  On January 20, 1922 The New York Times reported, "Yesterday's largest entertainment was the dance that Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt 2d gave at her residence, 666 Fifth Avenue for her debutante daughter, Miss Muriel Vanderbilt, and which was attended by many young married people, as well as the season's debutantes and the younger dancing men.  There were between 200 and 300 present."

That coming winter season would see Virginia focused on Consuelo.  She and her cousin, Cathleen (the daughter of Reginald Vanderbilt) were contemporaries and on November 26, 1922 The Buffalo Times wrote:

Despite the fact that the two Vanderbilt girls, Consuelo and Cathleen, are not to come out officially this season, there is little doubt that by the time that they are to be presented, society will be well acquainted with their charming personalities.  At the famous Vanderbilt mansion at No. 666 Fifth Avenue, Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, 2nd, will give a Thanksgiving Eve party for Cathleen.  It is sure to be an elaborate affair, and the debs and debmen are on the qui vive with anticipation.

The Fifth Avenue mansion was the scene of Consuelo's marriage to Earl E. T. Smith on the afternoon of January 7, 1926.  The New York Times, interestingly enough, did not tip-toe around the fact that Virginia and William were estranged, saying the ceremony would take place "at the home of her mother."  Rev. Thomas Murphy of St. Patrick's Church--the same priest who had married Consuelo's parents-- performed the ceremony.

The event was unexpectedly understated.  The article said it "will be comparatively small, only members of the two families being asked to the ceremony," adding, "Miss Vanderbilt has decided to dispense with attendants."  (Invitations to the reception, however, said the article, "will be more general.")  The New York Times noted that when the newlyweds returned from their wedding trip, they "will live at 24 East Sixty-fourth Street, the house being one of the wedding gifts from the bride's father."

Virginia Fair Vanderbilt's mansion was the last hold-out on the block when this photograph was snapped.  (original source unknown)

Virginia was being increasingly hemmed in by commerce by now.  A year earlier, in May 1925, Benjamin Winter had purchased the Petite Chateau, announcing he "will erect a twenty-story business building on the site."  And an article in The Buffalo Times on July 18, 1926 hinted at Virginia's isolation among shops and offices.  "The Vanderbilt house at 666 Fifth Avenue is indeed an oasis for the weary shopper's eye these days.  Every window is a miniature bower of bloom, and I dare say that the cost of the hydrangeas and ivy which gladden Milady's eye as she wanders in search of July bargains in chapeaux would easily keep me and thee in Camels for the rest of our smoking days."

After having lived apart for 18 years, in 1927 William convinced his wife to file for divorce.   He had fallen in love with Rosamund Lancaster Warburton.  On June 3 The New York Times reported, "Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, the former Virginia Fair, received a decree of divorce today."  The article noted that she and William "have provided a kaleidoscopic domestic picture for New York society for many years...They have been together, in recent years, only at the coming-out functions of their two daughters, Muriel and Consuelo, and at their marriages."

Virginia had gone to Paris to obtain the divorce.  The New York Times said, "Before sailing Mrs. Vanderbilt's ornate Gothic residence at 666 Fifth Avenue, known as the Virginia Fair house, her maiden name, was sold, to be converted into a business building.  It adjoined the French chateau of William K. Vanderbilt, Sr., her father-in-law, which was recently razed to make way for a business building."

Virginia Fair Vanderbilt had maintained control over her former home, even after selling it for "more than $1,500,000," according to The New York Times (about $22.3 million today).  Court documents revealed that in the contract she "insisted that a building seven stories above the ground be erected at a cost of at least $500,000."

Demolition begins on March 28, 1928.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The replacement building survived until 1955 when it was demolished to make way for the 41-floor Tishman Building (known now as 660 Fifth Avenue).

The 1929 replacement...(from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York)

...and its successor.  photo by David Shankbone

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The 1871 Peake, Opdycke & Co. Store -- 427-429 Broadway

In 1854 proprietor George W. Harpel promoted the "enlarged and refitted" City Hotel at Nos. 427-429 Broadway.  Not only was it a mere three minute walk from the Harlem, Hudson River and New Haven Railroad Depots, but "Meals [are] served at all hours, either in their apartments (without extra charge) or in the private dining rooms or in the halle a ménage, which is attached to the Hotel."   By the end of the Civil War the hotel had been renamed the Tontine Hotel.

Broadway bustles with traffic and pedestrians around the Tontine Hotel (far right) in 1870.  The building would be demolished soon after this photo was taken.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The district around Broadway and Howard Streets was becoming increasingly commercial at the time.  In 1870 prominent attorney and judge Abram J. Dittenhoefer demolished the hotel and hired Thomas R. Jackson to design a modern loft and store building on the site.

Jackson had earlier been the head draftsman in the office of esteemed architect Richard Upjohn and contributed to the design of the rebuilt Trinity Church, completed in 1846.  For Dittenhoefer's project he used the relatively new technology of the cast iron facade.

Used for over a decade, the process involved bolting pre-fabricated cast iron elements to the masonry fronts of buildings.  They could imitate carved stone, be easily cast with elaborate decorative elements and—most importantly—would be fireproof.    By now the process had been perfected and cast iron facades were quickly gaining widespread acceptance.  Jackson used it to full advantage, lavishing the facade with elaborate French Renaissance decorations.

An advantage of cast iron was the speed of construction it allowed.  Work began on Nos. 427-429 Broadway on July 1, 1870 and was completed six months later, on January 12, 1871.  Above the handsome storefront where free-standing Corinthian columns on pedestals separated the windows, four identical stories were separated by intermediate cornices.  They mimicked the ground floor with engaged Corinthian columns upholding a series of round arches that created a hypnotic rhythm.  The sprandrels overflowed with frothy French elements.  The bracketed terminal cornice was capped with a triangular pediment which announced 1870.

The building's first tenant was Peake, Opdycke & Co., fur merchants.  Winter fashions for both men and women in the 19th century included costly fur coats, robes, hats and other items.  The firm marketed skins from buffalo, which were hunted for heavy carriage robes, beavers for men's tophats, and minks, sables and other animals for top coats, muffs, and collars.

Peake, Opdycke & Co. said its "splendid goods are sold by most of the leading retail Dry Goods Merchants in all the leading cities and towns."  Demorest's Monthly Magazine, April 1871 (copyright expired)

But despite the high quality of its goods and its aggressive nation-wide advertising campaign, the firm was on shaky financial footing.  On October 9, 1873, just two years after Peake, Opdycke & Co. moved into the new building, The Nation reported that it had failed.  But the writer placed the blame on the banks and customers, not on the firm.  "The action of the savings-banks in hoarding greenbacks at this time is severely criticised," it said, adding that Peake, Opdycke & Co. "transacted a large dry goods, jobbing and importing business--one of the largest in the city--and their failure was brought about by the difficulty experienced in making collections."

On November 1873 a large announcement in the New-York Tribune informed dry goods merchants of an enormous close-out sale of "their large stock of over one million dollars at an immense sacrifice."  

Space in the building was soon taken by the wholesale drygoods firm of Bartlett, Reed & Co.  In August 1875 it was looking for a clerk, insisting that he "must be sober and capable."

The next major tenant came in 1876.  On July 1 the Real Estate Record reported "Judge Dittenhoefer's store, on the southwest corner of Broadway and Howard street, has been rented to John M. Davies & Co., at $30,000 a year."  The journal pointed out the 50-percent reduction in rent.  "Peake, Opdycke & Co. formerly paid $60,000 for the same property."  John M. Davies & Co., a manufacturer and seller of "gents' furnishing goods," paid annual rent equivalent to $738,000 today.

Difficult to see from the street, the date 1870 is cast into the pediment.

Founded around 1840, John M. Davies & Co. was later described as "the leading house and originator in men's furnishing goods.  Mostly all the first-class furnishers of New York either got their schooling there or emanated from it."

Upon the death of John R. Davies the firm was renamed Robert K. Davies & Co.  The Rochester, New York newspaper the Democrat & Chronicle said "When Robert K. Davies succeeded...the business was looked upon as one of the most successful in New York City."  An advertisement in the New-York Tribune on April 2, 1880 touted its Easter goods, including "novelties in neck dress, gloves and handkerchiefs, dress and fancy shirts, hosiery and underwear."

Trouble within the company's workforce started in 1884 when a new factory superintendent named Schautz was hired (at a significant $3,000 annual increase in pay, or about $69,500, over his predecessor, named Straub).  Straub was fired for being pro-union.

A female employee later explained "Although Superintendent Straub was a union man and we all liked him very much, we continued our work as before when he was discharged to make room for Mr. Schautz, for we belonged to no union and did not consider the matter any special grievance of ours."

Schautz immediate let it be known that he intended to "thoroughly reorganize the working system of the factory."  That included "the most rigid economy."  He immediately reduced the workers' wages by 10 percent.  The staff noticed, however, that cronies of the new superintendent were brought in at higher wages.  Long-standing cutters were fired and "some of the new men got $4 and $5 a week more than the old ones," complained a worker.

The breaking point came in 1887 when Schautz told the female workers he needed to cut their wages to $3 and $4 per week, depending on their positions (about $111 in today's dollars).  They refused, saying "no respectable girl can board and clothe herself on that amount."  Schautz agreed.  Or at least he appeared to.

A worker told The New York Times "We were deceived, however, for in a few days came a wholesale cut averaging 50 per cent on all classes of work."  Schautz refused to meet with the women, as did Robert Davies.  The entire female workforce walked out.  On July 21 The Times reported "The factory is practically shut-down for the present, only a few cutters being at work yesterday and no girls at all."  Schautz remained firm and told a reporter that he "thinks the girls will submit to his terms in a few days."

A reporter who attended a meeting of the women "was surrounded by a bevy of the girls, who all wanted to explain at once the exact situation of affairs," said The Times.  "All we want is a fair show, said one."  The group suggested that if finances were so tight, perhaps Schautz should "knock something off his own salary."

The strike was resolved, but the end of the line for the venerable firm was on the horizon.  Three years later, on April 8, 1890 the Democrat & Chronicle reported that "The great gents' furnishing house" of Robert K. Davies had failed.

S. Hirsch & Co., button dealers, had shared the building with Robert K. Davies for several years by now.  Firms like these employed "cashiers," whose highly responsible positions entailed the handling of cash receipts and payroll.  They were highly trusted but newspapers repeatedly ran stories of dishonest cashiers.

And on June 29, 1888 The Evening World began an article saying "Another cashier has gone wrong and has been arrested in Montreal."  He was Albert E. Krahl, the cashier of S. Hirsch & Co.  Two weeks earlier he entered a check into the books of $900 for payroll.  He then changed the check to $3,900, cashed it, paid the employees then disappeared.  When he did not appear for work the books were checked, showing there was another $2,000 missing--a total of nearly $140,000 today.

The Evening World, July 15, 1889 (copyright expired)

Detectives had gone to Brooklyn to question his neighbors.  One mentioned that on the Saturday before his disappearance he "purchased a new suit of clothes adapted to cold weather," according to The Evening World.  The article went on to say "He had married a young and beautiful girl five months ago, and by keeping close to the lady and watching her movements they traced Krahl to Montreal."  The wayward cashier was extradited for forgery.

The Celluloid Company operated from the building around the same time.  It manufactured "waterproof collars and cuffs that will not wilt, are not effected by moisture and look just like linen."  An advertisement in The Eaton Rapids Journal on August 17, 1894 said they "are all the fashion now."

Men's linen collars and cuffs in the 1890's were not part of the shirt, but sold separately.  The practice meant that soiled collars and cuffs could be simply changed out, and worn collars simply thrown away without sacrificing the shirt.  The celluloid collars and cuffs were easily cleaned and did not wear out.  A collar cost 25 cents, and a pair of cuffs 50 cents--or about $15.30 today for the set of cuffs.  The up-to-date firm boasted a telephone in its office by 1895.

In 1909 Nos. 427-429 Broadway had became home to several railroad offices.  Now known as the Lackawanna Building, that year it housed the offices of The Delaware, Lackawanna & Western Railroad Co.; and passenger and freight agents J. L. Homer, P. M. Ahern, and J. J. Byrne.  All of the tenants would still be in the building through 1916.

That all ended in 1919 when the structure was sold to Frederick Brown.  In reporting on the sale on July 12, the New-York Tribune noted "The building is vacant."  The sale price was equal to $2.42 million today.

New tenants included The Wahl Co., importers of fountain pens and pencils; and the Corona Importing Corp., dealers in novelties like Christmas tree ornaments, toys and mechanical items.

The International Office Equipment Magazine, February 1922 (copyright expired)

As Soho transformed to Manhattan's art center in the late 20th century, the Nancy Hoffman Gallery opened in the building by 1991.  In the first decade of the 21st century the performance space Hub, an off-shoot of Performa 17, was here as well.

The 1871 structure has survived amazingly intact, including the ground floor, normally the first to go.  It still commands attention on the corner of Broadway and Howard Street after a century and a half.

photographs by the author