The Ideal Hosiery Building - 339 Grand Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

John Jacob Astor I amassed $250,000 in the fur trade by 1800 (nearly $6.5 million in 2026).  He turned to real estate and by the late 182os was erecting scores of Federal style dwellings.  Among them were five three-and-a-half-story houses on Grand Street at the southwest corner of Ludlow Street, completed around 1830.

Like the others, the corner building, 339 Grand Street, was clad in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  The peaked attic was punctured by a single, centered dormer.  A store occupied the ground floor.

James Nelson and his family occupied the house in 1830.  An umbrella maker, he operated his shop here, as well.  In 1837, Mrs. M. D. Hodge, who recently arrived from London, moved in.  On November 17 that year, the Morning Herald said "the beautiful Mrs. Hodge" created "the most elegant Chenille hats in New York."  The article continued:

This lady's store is sought for by all fashionable families in want of such an article.  Mrs. H. is attentive, polite, pretty, and excellent in her business.

Articles continuously mentioned Mrs. Hodge's appearance.  In reporting on her "splendid Victoria Gipsey Hats" on April 4, 1838, the Morning Herald noted, "I am told that both Mrs. H. and her hats are uncommonly beautiful."  The quality of her headwear was certified that year when the American Institute awarded her a "diploma" (an ornate printed award) for "a fine specimen of chenille hats, made without a stitch."

It does not appear that Mrs. Hodge lived above her store.  The Gordon family occupied the upper floors as early as 1840.  Harriet Gordon died here on January 31, 1841 at the age of 40 "after a very long illness," according to the New York Morning Courier.  Her funeral was held in the house the following morning.

Astor continued to have a relatively quick turnover in commercial tenants.  In 1841, Arthur H. Sherman ran his stationery store here.  On December 9, the New-York Tribune reported, "A boy named James Murphy was arrested to-day and committed for stealing a pack of blank cards worth 25 cents from Arthur H. Sherman, No. 339 Grand-street."  And as early as 1847, James Cunningham's stove business occupied the store.  A long-term tenant moved in around 1850.  Jeremiah L. Sackett installed his drygoods business in the store and moved his family into the upper floors.  

By 1854, Jeremiah L. Sackett moved his family to University Place, but he continued to operate his drygoods store here.  In 1855, title to 339 Grand Street was transferred to Astor's granddaughter, Cecilia Langdon de Nottbeck.  By then, a three-story structure had been erected in the rear yard at 57 Ludlow Street.  

Replacing the Sacketts in the upper floors was the Crosson family, while the family of William H. Anderson, a joiner, lived in the upper floors of 57 Ludlow by 1855.  (A joiner was a skilled carpenter.)

Another funeral was held in the Grand Street house in 1855.  Robert N. Crosson died on January 27 at the age of 24.

When 57 Ludlow was erected, a wrought iron fence protected the areaway in front of the basement.  The Anderson family still occupied the upper floors on August 8, 1857 when William Jr., who was six years old, fell from a second floor window.  The New-York Tribune reported that he suffered, "a severe flesh wound on the back part of the head, about three inches in length and half an inches in depth."  The New York Times added, "his left leg was dreadfully lacerated by being caught in one of the iron spikes of the railing in front of the house."

William E. Vanhorn and his family lived in 57 Ludlow Street as early as 1864.  It was a highly convenient location, since he worked as a clerk in Jeremiah L. Sackett's store around the corner.  The Vanhorns would remain here until 1872, when Sackett closed his store after more than two decades.

The store became home to Joseph Freund & Co., dealers of beddings and feathers.  Run by Jacob, Lazarus and Moses Freund (presumably the sons of Joseph Freund), they had two other stores--one at 365 Eighth Avenue and the other at 359 East Houston.  None of the brothers lived in the Grand Street or Ludlow Street buildings.

Joseph Freund & Co. diversified into "linengoods" in 1886.  Their business and the building were threatened by fire on September 2, 1893.  The New York Herald reported, "Fire caused a panic at half-past seven o'clock last evening in the fancy dry goods store of Saul Brothers, at 335 Grand street, and that of their immediate neighbor, C. Wagner, at No. 337."  The article said that Grand Street was packed with "Saturday night shoppers" when suddenly, "purchasers and employes [sic] ran screaming out of the place.  One of the girls fainted and was carried into a nearby store."

By the time firefighters arrived, both buildings were ablaze and "the flames were shooting up through the roof and had caught on the corner of No. 339 Grand street, the ground floor of which is occupied by J. Freund & Co., linen importers."  Although 335 and 337 were devastated, firefighters arrived in time to save 339 Grand Street from serious damage.

The Evening World, May 21, 1902 (copyright expired)

After being in business here for three decades, Freund & Co. closed in 1902.  It was replaced by George and Max Weiner's millinery shop.  The shop would remain until October 14, 1919.

In the Depression years, a children's apparel shop occupied the store.  The storefront was remodeled and an arcade entrance installed.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

On August 10, 1950, The New York Times reported that Edward W. de Nottbeck had sold 339 Grand Street to the 339 Grand Street Corp.  It ended the Astor family's 120-year ownership of the property.  The Ideal Hosiery company leased the building and placed a vibrant red metal sign over the shop.  The firm purchased the building in 1965.

The Ideal Hosiery sign was still vibrant in 1995.  The upper floors were being used as storage.  (original source unknown.)

Like Jeremiah L. Sackett and Joseph Freund & Co., Ideal Hosiery remained here for decades.  On August 21, 2018, The New York Times reported that Ideal Hosiery had placed the building on the market for $7.2 million.

photograph by Carole Teller

The faded metal signage still clings to the facade of 339 Grand Street.  The venerable structure was designated an individual New York City landmark in 2013.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post.

The Sun-Ray Yarn Building - 349 Grand Street

 

photo by Carole Teller

In reporting on the "inventions and improvements" exhibited in the Annual Fair of the American Institute of New-York, the October 1833 issue of Mechanics' Magazine noted, "Mr. F. Murphy's exhibition of blacking will, if properly appreciated, make him a shining character...He makes it at 349 Grand street, and let it be remembered that it is American."  Francis Murphy would soon have to find another spot to make his improved shoe polish.  Within a few years, his vintage structure was replaced with a three-story house and store.

Faced in running bond red brick, its design most likely drew from the current Greek Revival or Italianate style.  In 1840, Benjamin Stimpson, Jr., a hatter, and his family lived upstairs while he ran his store downstairs.  Sharing the upper portion in 1847 were Gertrude Pearsall, the widow of Abijah Pearsall; and "segarmaker" William Fick.  The commercial space was now home to the Tice & Abbott bakery, run by Peter Tice and Samuel P. Abbott.

Drastic change soon came when Joseph Ochs and his family moved in.  He opened his "dining saloon" in the former bakery space.  Ochs also operated another dining saloon at 3 Cedar Street.  His venture here, however, was short-lived.  In March 1853, he advertised:

A public house for sale--A barroom, with restaurant and club room attached for sale low to a cash purchaser.  The house is doing a good business, and is in one of the best locations in the city.  For particulars, apply at No. 349 Grand street.

Marcus Nehab converted the space for his ribbons store.  In the meantime, William Seaman lived upstairs.  He was irate in 1854 when unflattering rumors about him were circulated.  In August he placed an announcement in the New York Herald saying,

$50 Reward--Whereas some person unknown to the subscriber [i.e., Seaman], has been circulating false and scandalous reports concerning him, the above reward will be cheerfully paid to any one who will furnish such information as may lead to the conviction of the one who circulated the slander.

Seaman's reward would equal about $1,950 in 2026.

Aaron Phillips took over the store around 1857.  He would operate his dry goods store for years while he and his family occupied the upper floors.  

In 1861, the Union Home and School was established to care for the children of soldiers killed in battle.  Following the conflict, the facility continued and on February 1, 1867, a lottery for its benefit was held.  The following day The New York Times reported on the winners, among whom was G. A. Phillips, who won $100 (the windfall would translate to $2,000 today).  Presumably, G. A. Phillips was Aaron Phillips's son.

The dry goods store was taken over by brothers Jacob and Leopold Diamond in 1867.  Change came again in 1871 when the store became a branch of the M. H. Moses & Co. tea shops.  It was one of 15 tea shops the firm operated throughout the city.

It may have been Moses H. Moses who updated the facade.  Impressive Renaissance Revival-style cast metal architraves were applied to the upper openings and an ornate cornice that included the street number was installed.

photograph by Carole Teller

Mary Morris was the widow of shoemaker Matthew Morris.  Upon his death, she took the reins of the company and in 1879 leased 349 Grand Street, installing her shoe store here and moving her family into the upper floors.  Mary had at least two sons and two daughters.  

One of the daughters, who signed her name "Miss L. Morris," thought that a joke that she invented in 1888 was so clever that she should share it with the world.  She wrote to the editor of The Evening World on July 31:

The other day I remarked to a group of friends in talking about a child that happened to be standing near by: "I think that child will be a teacher some day because he has a pupil in his eye."

By 1890, Mary's sons had joined the business, which was renamed Morris Bros.  At the time, clerks throughout the city had mobilized to promote the "half holiday" concept.  It proposed that during the hot summer months, shops would be closed on Saturday afternoons.  On August 6, 1890, a reporter from The World interviewed Max Morris about the movement.  He compassionately said, "If the others close we shall cheerfully follow suit," adding, "We are only employing two clerks now, and they get off whenever they ask the privilege.  The clerks ought to have the half day, by all means."

After having leased the property for 12 years, on April 3, 1891 Mary Morris purchased 349 Grand Street.  Following her death, on February 26, 1904 her children sold the building to Louis Minsky.  On March 30, the Shoe Retailer and Boots and Shoes Weekly reported:

Morris, the Grand street shoeman, who has conducted a store at 349 Grand street, under the style of Morris Bros. for several years, will open a new store on 8th avenue, between 37th and 38th street, about May 1st.

Minsky quickly resold the building to Frederick Siegler and his wife, Paulina.  (Confusingly, Siegler's name would also be spelled Zeigler and Siegel in documents.)  The couple moved into the upper floors and opened their fancy goods store downstairs.

On April 23, 1906, The Evening World reported on ten young women who were "shop girls on a weekday, but turned sleuth of a Sunday here of late."  They intended to gather evidence against "shopkeepers, dealers in dry goods, notions and the like," said the article, who kept their businesses open on Sundays.

The previous day, a "good-looking young woman" named "Miss Marcus," according to The Evening World, had entered Siegel's store and asked for three yards of blue ribbon.  "The clerk wasn't certain about selling the ribbon, and he called the boss."  Miss Marcus later alleged that Siegler directed, "Sure, sell her.  Only because it is Sunday she must pay ten cents a yard instead of seven and a half."

Later, Katie Burns entered the store.  The New York Herald reported, "Morris Lieberman, a clerk, sold her a pair of hose with the knowledge and consent of Ziegler."

In court the next day, the magistrate asked Siegler if he kept his store closed on the sabbath.  The Jewish shop owner replied that, "his store was always closed until 4 o'clock on Saturday," according to the New York Herald, which concluded, "'Discharged,' said the magistrate."

In February 1910, Siegel hired architect O. Reissmann to make interior alterations, including the reconfiguration of walls.  The changes cost the equivalent of $51,000 today.

In 1922, the children of Frederick and Pauline Seigler leased 349 Grand Street to Samuel Keiser "for women's wearing apparel," according to the New-York Tribune.  The lease was renewed in March 1930 for another five years.

At the end of the lease, Samuel and Abraham Friedman rented the building for their Sun-Ray Yarn Company.  The following year, in January 1936, they purchased the property.

In 1941, Sun-Ray occupied the ground floor of 351, as well.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Called Sun-Ray House, the three-story shop became a destination for its broad array of yarns.  But in February 1943, the Federal Trade Commission had a problem with S. Friedman & Sons.  The New York Times explained that the complaint charged "that they had misrepresented the fiber, material, or place or origin of some of the yarn they sell."  The Feds said, for instance, that they called "rainbow type yard" "rainbow tweed;" and instead of describing one item "mystic yarn," they marketed it as "mystic crepe."  

By then the dash had been dropped from Sunray and the store had extended into 351 Grand Street.  By 1975, it included the ground floor of 347, as well.

In 1975, Sunray Yarn had extended into 347 Grand Street.  No. 349 is at the far left.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Sunray Yarns remained at least into the 1980s.  In the early 2000s, a restaurant supply firm occupied the building.  It was replaced in 2012 by a pharmacy.  Somewhat beleaguered today, the vintage building still draws attention for its unusual window treatments.

many thanks to reader Carole Teller for prompting this post.

The Lost Centre Market Building - 172 Grand Street

In 1897, when this photograph was taken, the city leased the second floor for the Second District Courthouse.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Since Colonial times large markets--normally near the rivers--supplied New Yorkers with fresh produce, fish and meat.   In 1812 a proposal was made to established a public market further inland, on the oddly-shaped parcel of ground between Orange and Rynders Streets (later named Baxter and Centre Streets, respectively) and Grand Street.

In his 1862 The Market Book, historian Thomas F. De Voe explained, "but as the war of 1812 became an all-absorbing topic, the matter was laid over until it was again revived by the inhabitants of the Sixth, Eighth, and Tenth Wards, who presented a formidable petition to the Common Council on the 14th of July, 1817."  Morris Martin, who owned the triangular parcel, agreed to sell it to the city for $5,000 (just under $100,000 today), with the stipulation that it would "always be used for public market purposes."  

By November that year the original Centre Market was opened with 14 butcher stalls.  Thomas F. De Voe recalled, "The market was opened with a good business, and the first meat sold in it was by Thomas Mook...who claimed to have sold a fine steak to Daniel Spader, an old butcher of Washington Market, who resided in Mulberry, near Spring Street."

Perhaps the most notable proprietors were widowed sisters, familiarly known as Aunt Fanny Watson and Aunt Katy Barr.  De Voe called them "both market-women, or hucksters."  Fanny worked the market until her death in 1841, and her sister continued until she died later at the age of 90.

Because of the dense population of the area, a fire bell was installed in the steeple of the market house in 1821 at a cost of about $1,280 in today's money.  The following year the market building was extended another 75 feet "to accommodate country people and fishermen," according to the New York Herald.

A major renovation and expansion to the market was proposed at a meeting of the Board of Aldermen on January 6, 1834.  It said in part:

The market buildings, as they now stand, are in a dilapidated state, so much so that if no other site is speedily procured, they will have to be taken down and new buildings put up at a very considerable expense.

The location was critical to the need to improve the structure.  The proposal estimated the number of New Yorkers served by the market at between 30,000 and 40,000, along with "the whole of the 14th Ward."  Because it was "an inland Market," everything had to be brought "by wagons, carts or sleds" and the accommodations for receiving them were insufficient.  Too, "the country people" who brought their goods in, had no place for their wagons, causing many to go to other, more adapted markets.  A budget of $50,000 was appropriated for the project.

The major renovation, completed in 1839, resulted in a Greek Revival style, brick-faced two-story structure.  Upon completion of the work, the building was opened with a gala entertainment.  On January 5, 1839 The Evening Post announced, "A Butchers' Ball and Supper, in commemoration of the opening of the new Centre Market, will take place on the 17th January, in the spacious rooms over the said market."  Tickets were not inexpensive, costing the equivalent of $145 today, however one ticket admitted "a gentleman and two ladies."

The Centre Market as it appeared in the 1830's.   from the collection of the New York State Military Museum.

Four months later the city changed the name of Rynders Street to Centre Street, "to correspond with the name of the market," according to the New York Herald.

The vast second story space where the ball was held was used for drilling the militia.  The New York Herald later said, "The rooms were divided up among several regiments, including the Sixth, Eighth and Seventy-first."  It would not be long before the troops were called to action.  On December 10, 1839 the Morning Herald reported, "the Generals of the 1st and 6th brigades of New York State Artillery, were ordered to meet in the ball room, at Centre Market, last night, to drill and to make preparations for a war of extermination upon the poultry and pigs in the Hallibeck hills."

The officers had much work to do in shaping up what the newspaper called a "hungry looking lot of fellows."  The article said, "the large room was crammed so full of all sorts of fellows that there was no room to turn; a little Colonel jumped up on a box in the middle of the room, and cried 'order,' at which everybody laughed."

The military shared the upper floor with other groups who rented space.  On February 22, 1842, for instance, the New-York Tribune announced, "The friends of Temperance will not forget the great Celebration of Washington's Birthday this evening by all the Temperance Associations of the city at the Centre Market Hall...We are sure the occasion will be one of high interest."  And by 1853 a branch of the New York City Police Department had offices in the upper floors.

In 1859 vendors complained that some sellers were overstepping the prescribed boundaries of their stalls.  On the morning of November 14 James Irving, the Superintendent of the Public Markets, arrived to correct the problem.  It did not go well.

The New York Herald reported, "as soon as his presence became known a number of excited individuals flocked around him, among them a German named Herrich, who has lately been deprived of one of his stands, and his sister-in-law, Mrs. Heckman, who also occupied a stand."  The pair verbally abuse Irving and "when he admonished them to keep quiet, [they] commenced an assault upon him, the man striking him, and the woman scratching his face."  Irving called a policeman and had the two arrested.

Some of sellers came to Herrich's defense, calling him "an inoffensive, elderly man" who "went up to [Irving] quietly and civilly, and asked him some question about his stand whereupon Irving flew into a violent passion, seized Herrlich by the collar, and shoved him out of the rear of the market.  A tussle ensued, when Mrs. Heckman, who is a very large, full faced German woman, rushed in to protect her brother-in-law."

The New York Herald reported that "She then 'pitched into' Irving, and gave his face a terrible scratching."  Although Irving directed the head of the Centre Market to evict both parties, by the late afternoon a petition signed by nearly every seller arrived at the City Inspector's desk, asking to have them restored.

By then the building was suffering from neglect and use.  Two years earlier, as reported in the New York Herald, "while the Eighth [Regiment] was marching at cadence step, the floor suddenly broke away and sunk many inches."   The incident prompted the military to cease using the upper floor.

In 1872 a deal was struck with the state and the city to renovate the upper floors to once again be used as the drill space.  On December 15 that year the New York Herald reported on the work.  "Accordingly, the upper story has been taken down and is now in course of reconstruction in a thoroughly substantial manner."  When the new second floor was completed, said the article, "it will then be leased to the city as an armory for the Fifth regiment National Guard."

from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

The handsome new top floor was designed in the Gothic Revival style, with storybook turrets, a castellated pediment and square-headed drip moldings.  Miller's Strangers' Guide for the City of New York described the renovated structure as "a well-built and commodious place, adapted for the various departments of a public market."

The bolstered reputation of the structure did not last especially long.  The 1894 edition of Shepp's New York City Illustrated wrote an article about the new Central Market next to Grand Central Station.  The writer warned, "It most not be confounded with the ancient and now rather dilapidated Centre Market, in Centre street, between Grand and Broome."

And, in fact, the property was already being eyed as the site of a civic structure.  On March 3, 1897 a meeting of property owners and businessmen was held "to take steps to secure legislation to erect a municipal building on the site at present occupied by Centre Market," reported the New-York Tribune.

The idea was bandied about for seven years, until on February 23, 1904 The Evening World reported, "Old Centre Market will be the site of the proposed new Police Headquarters for Manhattan."  The article added, "This site is already a possession of the city and was recently condemned...as unfit for further use for market purposes."

The Centre Market was demolished to make way for the palatial Police Headquarters Building, designed by Hoppin and Koen, which survives.

from the collection of the New York Public Library

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The Lost Lord & Taylor Store - Broadway and Grand Street

from the collection of the Fashion Institute of Technology

Born in Yorkshire, England, Samuel Lord opened a small dry goods store on Catherine Street in 1826.  When his wife's cousin, George Washington Taylor, joined the business in 1834, the store was renamed Lord & Taylor.

As trade continually inched further uptown and Grand Street became the fashionable dry goods thoroughfare, Lord & Taylor erected a new store at Grand and Chrystie Streets in 1853.  The success of the business was such that within six years a second, opulent store was built several blocks to the west, at 461-467 Broadway, on the northwest corner of Grand Street.

Faced in gleaming white Eastchester marble, the five-story structure was designed by Griffith Thomas, remembered by the American Institute of Architects in 1908 as "the most fashionable architect of his generation."  Its Renaissance Revival design (described as "Florentine" at the time) featured arcades of show windows along street level, arched openings capped by flat lintels or triangular pediments on the upper floors, and a dignified balustrade atop the cornice.  Stealing the show was the immense fanlight above the main entrance.  The cost of construction was placed at $180,000 and the price of the land at $200,000--bringing the total cost of the new emporium to $12 million in today's money.

The store opened on August 29, 1859.   That morning The New York Times wrote, "The store of Mssrs. Lord & Taylor, at the corner of Grand-street and Broadway...is one of the finest, if not the very finest, on this grandest of thoroughfares.  It is five stories high, built of white marble, and looks more like an Italian palace than a place for the sale of broadcloth."  Miller's Guide to New-York called it "one of the most conspicuous architectural ornaments of Broadway."

Inside, Corinthian columns stood in rows within the "immense salesrooms."  The staircases were, according to The New York Times, were "of palatial width and of massive oak."  The article added, "The most notable ornament in the building is the huge gas chandelier that lights up the staircase.  It was made by Tiffany at a cost of $500, and is original and unique of its kind."

from the collection of the New York Public Library

The topmost floors held manufacturing space.  Vacant at the time of the store's opening, they became a hive of activity in the spring of 1860.  On April 17 Lord & Taylor announced the opening of a separate department, "to be devoted exclusively to ladies', children's, and infants' wearing apparel."  The notice explained that "leading artists" formerly employed by John N. Genin of Genin's Bazaar had been acquired and "a large and desirable assortment of ladies' and children's ready-made undergarments may be found at all times."

All other garments worn by the upper class were custom made.  In addition to the ready-made underwear, the new department took orders for "mourning apparel, bridal trousseau, traveling outfits, robes de chambre."

A row of back-to-back advertisements in the New-York Daily Tribune that same day gave a glimpse into the variety of goods available in the store.  Women looking for fabrics for their dressmakers could browse over 27 cases of the "latest novelties" just received from Paris.  Another ad touted "fashionable mantillas" in the "latest Paris Forms, in every variety of material and trimming, manufactured in the best manner, expressly for our retail sales."  There were also French and Scotch embroideries, lace goods "of every description," 5,000 pairs of lace curtains as well as "upholstery goods, curtain materials, cornices, window-shades, tassels, bands, loops and fixtures."

But the northward march of commerce never ceased.  Only a decade after moving into its marble palace, Lord & Taylor began construction on an equally lavish emporium at Broadway and 20th Street, which opened with enormous fanfare in 1870.  

The architect of the new store, James H. Giles, recreated the massive fanlight over the entrance.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

In 1876 the clothing maker J. W. Goddard & Son moved into the former Lord & Taylor building.  Founded on January 1, 1847 by Joseph Warren Goddard, the firm had moved several times already, but, according to the Dry Goods Guide, "the house had filled its last domicile to overflowing and pushed on upward to the large stores 461-467 Broadway, the old Lord & Taylor building."  The company's continued success made even this building too small and in 1880 it moved slightly northward to 516 Broadway.

The marble palace where Manhattan's carriage trade had shopped continued to house clothing manufacturers.   L. Levenson & Co. was in the building by the spring of 1879, joined by the London & Liverpool Clothing Co. by 1883.  The Don Clothing Company replaced L. Levenson & Co. in the building around 1890.

L. Levenson & Co. imprinted a sketch of the building on its bills of sale.  from the John H. Yardley Collection of Architectural Letterheads of the Columbia University Libraries. 

By the last years of the 1880's Max Stadler & Co. operated its men's furnishings store from the ground level.  On November 8, 1888 it advertised its "Great Clearing Sale of $500,000 Worth of Men's Fine Overcoats and Suits."  On sale were 15,000 overcoats, 9,800 suits, 5,000 children's suits as well as "men's fine derby hats."

The front of Max Stadler & Co.'s trade card seemingly has nothing to do with its business.  The back, however, provided a long list of apparel and prices.

The three firms joined forces in the fall of 1890.  An announcement in The Evening World on October 31, reported that London & Liverpool, Don Company, and Max Stadler & Co. had consolidated.  A massive sale was held which was advertised as "A Wholesale Slaughter of Clothing."

Interestingly, four months later the combined venture was gone and Mack & Co., merchant tailors had moved into the retail space.  An announcement on February 20, 1891 read:

Mack & Co. Clothiers, beg to inform the public that they will open the large and palatial stores at 461, 463, 465 and 467 Broadway to-morrow (Saturday) Feb. 21. 

Our opening Display will consist of the new fashions in London-made Overcoats for early Springwear, Trousers and medium weight Suits.

 

Our Juvenile Department will be fully equipped.

Upstairs garment-related factories like the American Silk Label Mfg. Co. continued to operate.  By the first years of the 20th century other types of tenants were moving in, like the National Discount Co.  The firm acted as "financial underwriters for merchants and manufacturers, and for the negotiation of commercial paper."  And in 1909 the Toback Lock Company operated here. 

The following year a demolition permit was filed with the Department of Buildings, but for some reason those plans were not carried forward.  Small businesses continued to come and go--the Globe Shirt Company was here in 1916, clothing manufacturer Aaron Schwetsky in 1920, and The Sand Company in 1922.  Where wealthy women had once shopped for mantillas and lace goods, The Sand Company now marketed its "Steel Cat," guaranteed to "quickly rid your place of mice."

The magnificent marble commercial emporium was demolished in 1960 to make way for a parking lot.  Today a glass and steel business building and residential tower, completed in 2005, occupies the site.

photo by Monacelli Press

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E. Sniffen's 1883 219-221 Grand Street

Until 1767 the wide drive that ran east-west through the country estate of James de Lancey Jr. was called the Road to Crown Point.  That year de Lancey renamed it Grand Street.  Following the Revolutionary War and his banishment as a Loyalist, de Lancey’s property was confiscated and the building lots were auctioned.  By the 1810's and ‘20's, Grand Street saw the rise of brick-faced homes, including No. 221, home to John Lovett in 1823.

The house, described as a "three story brick front house" was the home and office of dentist Thomas Paine in the 1840's.  By 1874 the ground floor had been converted for business and housed a variety of shops over the next decade, including Henry Birn's crockery and glass store, J. McGivern's tea shop, and finally J. F. Manken's saloon.  Manken had just paid his $75 fee for his excise (or liquor) license in July 1883 when he received bad news.

Simultaneously Daniel D. Brickenhoff had purchased the property.  He was the principal in the construction firm D. Brickhoff & Co.  On July 27, 1883 his architect, E. Sniffen, filed plans for a "five-story brick store" on the site of the old house at a cost $22,000, or just under $580,000 today.

Although Sniffen produced several tenement buildings in Manhattan and Brooklyn, little is known about him.  For Brickenhoff he produced an especially handsome blend of Italianate and neo-Grec styles.  The cast iron storefront had a chamfered entrance behind a free-standing cast iron column.   
The upper floors were faced in red brick and trimmed in sandstone.  Quoins ran up the sides while the openings sat on scalloped sills and wore robust lintels with incised designs.   The projecting chimney backs at the fourth and fifth floors sat upon chunky carved supports.  They took the form of heavy pilasters at the fourth floor and paired, engaged Corinthian columns at the fifth.  The handsome metal cornice was distinguished by a triangular pediment.

The building was only 23 feet deep along Elizabeth Street.  That all changed a year later when Brickenhoff brought E. Sniffen back to essentially double its size.  On February 16, 1884 The American Architect & Building News reported that he had filed plans for an extension along Elizabeth Street to cost $25,000--more than the original building.  The resulting addition, four bays side, was architecturally seamless.

The store was home to one of several W. L. Douglas shoe stores in the city.  William Lewis Douglas had founded the firm in 1876 and reinvented how the shoe industry worked.  Rather than wholesale the shoes he manufactured, he opened his own retail shops.  Taking a page from P. T. Barnum's book, he stamped his image on the leather soles, making his shoes easily recognized.  By the turn of the century W. L. Douglas was the largest shoe maker in the world.

The $3 cost of this shoe would equal $85 today.  The Sun, December 5, 1886 (copyright expired)

The building's residents were working class--at least those who worked.  One who found other means of making a living was 34-year old August Palmer, who was living here in September 1887 when he was once again arrested.

He and three cohorts, August Bergman, alias 'Dutch Gus;' Henry Frey, alias 'Little Henry;' and Frank Clark set their plan to rob the store of Michael Borchardt on Canal Street into motion on the evening of September 9.  They hid in a loft directly above the store and after hours packed up silverware and silk goods valued at $180,000 in today's money.  The following morning they returned, dressed as janitors.  An express wagon had been hired to transport the neatly-packaged heist to the house of merchant Joseph Snow on East 76th Street.  (Police later said Snow "has been closely watched for a number of years, but has so far managed to keep out of prison.")

Their scheme fell apart because of a vigilant watchman who was suspicious of the Saturday morning activity and took down the license number of the wagon.   After following the trail to the destination supplied by the driver, the police learned from a woman living nearby that she had seen four men carrying bolts of silk into the house.

On September 15 The Evening Post entitled a front page article "A Good Haul" and reported on the arrest of the thieves along with Joseph Snow.  "The four burglars have spent most of their lives in prison," it said.  August Palmer, who had already spent three terms in State Prison, would not be returning to his Grand Street apartment.

The author of a situation-wanted ad in February 1888 was typical of the residents in the building.  "Bartender's Position Wanted by a single young man; five years' best recommendations from last employer.  Address BARTENDER 221 Grand st."  

As the century drew to a close tenants included Joseph McManus, who volunteered with the 108th Regiment in 1898 following the outbreak of the Spanish-American War.  Vincent Cristalli lived here at the same time.  As an attendance officer with the New York Public Schools, his lurking presence on the streets was a constant threat to hooky-playing schoolboys.

In the first years of the 20th century John McBride worked as a "laborer" for the Department of Docks.  He earned 31.25¢ per hour in 1905, or about $9.50 an hour today.  At the time Vincenzo Benincasa was trying hard to elevate himself from his humble immigrant beginnings.  That year he was enrolled as a junior at Columbia University's College of Pharmacy.

The names of McManus, McBride, Cristalli and Benincasa reflected the mixed Irish and Italian demographics of the neighborhood at the time.  There were those among those immigrant communities who took advantage of their own countrymen's naivete, however.  Among them was Dr. Salvatore Magnoni who lived and ran his private practice at No. 219-221 Grand Street.

On May 25, 1907 the New-York Tribune reported on an investigation into "irregularities" within the medical community which it said "may develop into trouble of considerable magnitude."  The article pointed out the case of "an Italian" who had paid exorbitant fees to Dr. Magnoni and to Bellevue Hospital.

"Dr. Salvatore Magnoni, of No. 219 Grand street, said the man had been under his treatment, and for a month's services he had charged him $50."  That initial fee would be equal to $1,400 today.  The New-York Tribune reported "As the case was an aggravated one, he said he told him to go to Bellvue."  The patient was charged another $50 for admission, and "agreed to pay $50 more for treatment."  Dr. Magnoni was called in on the case, and he again charged $50.  The immigrant patient's medical bill had now climbed to the equivalent of $5,610 today.

Dr. Magnoni was unapologetic.  "So far as I am concerned the proposition was one between patient and private physician, and I deem every act of mine proper."

The doctor's unscrupulous treatment of his neighbors finally went too far.  In 1913 he began receiving anonymous threatening letters.  And then on November 2 Louis Guadaza ran up to Patrolman Moffett and told him there was a suspicious looking cigar box in the hallway of No. 221 Grand Street.  "The patrolman found the infernal machine lying just outside the door to Dr. S. Magnoni's flat," reported the New-York Tribune.

A protruding fuse had burned to within half an inch of the box.  "Moffett grasped the sputtering thing and snuffed out the sparks.  When he opened the box he found four sticks of dynamite."  It was taken to the Bureau of Combustibles where it was deemed "of a particularly dangerous nature."

The chamfered entrance to the store was still evident in this tax photograph taken around 1941.  photo via NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

In 1917 the store was home to Alexander & Littlefield Company where housewives could buy the "Sovereign" vacuum cleaner.  At a time when few tenement buildings had electricity, the clever device did not need it.  "The 'Sovereign' Vacuum Cleaner is of the piston plunger type," explained the New-York Tribune on July 22.  "The pumping motion produces a suction, which draws the embedded dirt up through the nozzle and deposits it in a chamber inside the cylinder."  The labor-intensive device weighed six pounds and could be purchased for the equivalent of $70 in today's dollars.

The Carlino family lived in No. 221 in 1922 when 17-year old John Carlino got himself into serious trouble.  He and three friends, James Cusano, Anthony Masceto, and Jasper Scalofano decided to break into the olive oil and cheese store of Sabella Brothers around the corner on Elizabeth Street.  Cusano, who was 18-years old, led the gang and his plan was to saw through the iron bars of the cellar window to gain access.

Patrolman Michael Healy noticed the four youths loitering around the store and approached.  James Cusano assumed that cops could be bought and asked him "Will you stand for a little job?"  

"What kind?" asked Healy.

Cusano explained the plan.  "Sure, at your own risk," said the officer and he walked to the corner to stand lookout.  When out of eyesight he went to the police signal box and asked for reinforcements.  As the boys were herded into a police vehicle, one of the detectives could not hold back his astonishment at Cusano's impertinence: "Were you ever in a lunatic asylum or hit over the head?"

As the decades passed, the Grand Street neighborhood declined.  Already suffering neglect, No. 221 was devastated by a fire in March 1963.  The tenants of the twelve apartments went to the homes of friends and neighbors.  The New York Times reported "Five months later they were still homeless.  The building had no water, gas or electricity."

The tenants sued the landlord to force him to make repairs, but with no success.  It was seized by the city, which spent $39,350 on repairs.  But while the tenants now could return to their three- and four-room apartments, they faced a rent increase of up to 62 percent.  The lowest rent, which had been $25.30 a month, rose to $40.82 (or, in today's terms, from $211 to $314).

In 1970 the city auctioned the property with a minimum bid of $18,000.  It received a renovation in 2013 which resulted in offices on the second floor, three apartments each on upper floors.  E. Sniffen's handsome 1883 building once again attracts attention for the right reasons.

photographs by the author

William Field & Son's 1870 134-140 Grand Street

Charles C. Hastings was the principal in C. C. Hastings & Co., a clothing manufacturer.   The millionaire and his wife were described as "popular society favorites" by the Evening Telegram.  In 1869, as the neighborhood which a century later would become known as Soho rapidly developed following the end of the Civil War, Hastings made his mark by erecting a substantial cast iron structure on the northeast corner of Grand and Crosby Streets.

Completed in 1870, it was been designed by the architectural firm of William Field & Son in the emerging French Second Empire style.  The tall ground floor level featured Corinthian columns and rusticated piers.  In an innovative and eye-catching touch the architects replaced squared corners with the free-standing Corinthian columns at the second through fourth floors.  But the pièce de résistance was the mansard level with its frothy dormers, oeil de boeuf windows, and corner cupola. 

Valentine's Manual of the Corporation of the City of New York 1870 (copyright expired)

It appears Hastings erected the building for investment purposes, for he never moved his company from No. 327 Broadway.  His main tenant in Nos. 134-140 Grand Street was publisher Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor & Co.  

Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor & Co. had been organized in 1840 and was by now "the largest school-book publishing house in the world," according to J. Arthurs Murphy & Co.'s List of Printers, Publishers, and Paper Dealers in 1872.  The Grand Street building rumbled under the operation of the firm's eleven Adams steam-powered printing presses.  In May 1873 the company advertised its latest releases, including Swinton's Word Book, The Church Hymn Book (with and without tunes), How Plants Behave, How They Move, Climb, Employ Insects To Work For Them, &c, and The Educational Reporter.

Around 1873 Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor & Co. diversified by importing and wholesaling the Spencerian steel pens.  An advertisement in The New York Herald that year promised "They are of superior English make, and are famous for their elasticity, durability and evenness of point."

The Tribune Almanac for 1876 (copyright expired)

Around December 1876 the management of Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor & Co. recognized that its inventory of pens was noticeably shrinking.  "Some person in their employ was systematically stealing pens in large quantities," said The New York Herald.  "Watches were set upon suspected persons and private detectives were employed, but no person could be caught in the act."

The newspaper said that four months later, just as "the members of the firm were at their wits' ends," a letter arrived from their Chicago office asking how F. D. Alling, a storekeeper in Rochester, New York, could be selling the Spencerian pens at less than it cost to make them.  A representative traveled to Rochester where Alling explained he had purchased "a large quantity of the pens from a peddler named M. Shark."  And Alling was not his only customer.  The New York Herald explained that postmarks on letters received by Alling indicated "that the writer was constantly on the road disposing of his wares."

Back on Grand Street, employees knew that the firm's janitor of ten years, 28-year old James J. Smith, had a brother-in-law named M. Shark.  Undercover detectives followed Smith and "in a little while they became satisfied that he was the culprit."  Each night before going home he would hide a quantity of the expensive pens in his coat.  At his home in the Bronx they found 1,672 gross of the pens.  Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor & Co. estimated that he had absconded with $4,000 in merchandise--more than $100,000 in today's money.

In the meantime boot and shoe maker Benedict Hall & Co. had taken space in the building by 1874.  It was an uneasy period, just a year after the onslaught of the Financial Panic of 1873 sparked one of the greatest economic depressions in the country's history.  But five years later, on September 29, 1879, a representative, Matthew Bunker, told The New York Times he saw the economy turning around.  "On the whole, Mr. Bunker felt greatly encouraged at the outlook, and thought that the era of business prosperity had at last dawned upon the country."

Occupying the storefront at the time was Hinck & Co., dry goods merchants.  Eight months before Matthew Bunker had voiced his opinion on the economy, the building suffered considerable damage.  On January 14, 1879 the large structure directly across Crosby Street caught fire.  It had formerly been the home of Brooks Brothers and stretched along Grand Street from Broadway to Crosby.

As firefighters battled the out-of-control inferno, the Grand Street facade collapsed.  The New York Times reported "The opposite building is of iron, five stories in height, and forms the north-easterly corner of Grand and Crosby streets."  Firefighter John Reilly saw the wall weakening and warned a comrade "Come away, Jack!" but he was too late.  His body was found 10 minutes later "on the stoop of the store of Hinck Brothers, dead."

As the dust settled, the damage to Nos. 134-140 Grand Street became obvious.  The Times reported "as far up as the third-story window sills, the building of Hinck Brothers was seriously damaged and disfigured.  As the five-story wall of the burning building on the opposite side of Crosby-street toppled over it struck this building at its third story, and tore the front almost off, breaking away the cast-iron window-sills and columns as though they were made of pasteboard, and hurling tons of brick and other debris into each floor."  The newspaper added "This building is owned by C. C. Hastings.

The repaired structure became home to Bendheim Bros. & Co., dealers in "cigars, cigarettes and smoking and chewing tobacco" by 1885, and in the last decade of the 19th century the St. John-Kiram Shoe Co.; L. Stern & Co., makers of women's apparel; and Charles Zinn & Co., importers and manufacturers of baskets and willow ware had space here.

Benheim Bros. & Co. would remain in the building at least through 1914.  In 1898 it bid on a Government contract for supplying tobacco to the New York Navy, offering bulk tobacco at 32 cents per pound.

An trade postcard notified customers of the 1893 spring line of baskets.  copyright expired

By the outbreak of World War I the property was owned by John Jacob Astor.   Tenants like Charles Zinn & Co. and Bendheim Bros. & Co. moved on by 1918 when Astor leased the entire building to the Cincinnati-based Globe-Wernicke Co.   In its August issue that year, The Furniture Index reported that the firm would use the property "for warehouse purposes."  Astor "reconstructed" the building for the firm, according to the New-York Tribune later.

Among the foremost office furniture makers in the country, Globe-Wernicke had recently purchased the building at Nos. 451-453 Broadway as its New York office and showroom.  Just two years after moving in, on July 21, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that Astor had sold the nearly 100,000 square-foot structure to Globe-Wernicke.

A sign clinging to the corner identifies this as Globe-Wernicke's "Warehouse No. 2."   The photograph reveals that the damage of 1879 had been seamlessly repaired.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

In June 1937 Charles F. Noyes purchased the building and, according to The New York Times, "He immediately leased it to J. Rabinovich, furniture dealer, for warehouse purposes."  The article added that Noyes "will retain it for investment after improvements, including the installation of two elevators and automatic sprinklers."  The plans, filed by architect Ely Jacques Kahn, included a remodeling of the vintage facade.  The $25,000 project would equal about $445,000 today.  But the ambitious exterior remodeling, thankfully, never came to pass.

The somewhat battered cupola survives with the date 1870 in its western panel.  

Over the next few decades the building was home to a variety of tenants.  Daniel Jones, Inc. a furniture manufacturing and repair firm, was here from 1942 through 1962.  In 1942 Rose Brands Textiles, "muslin and other covering materials," called the building home, and in 1970 Hercules Drop Cloth Co. operated here.  In 1972 through 1974 the Fly Fisherman's Bookcase, a mail order seller of discount fly fishing books was in the building.

As late as the 1950's the mansard was still intact.  photograph by C. T. Brady, Jr. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

At the time artists were already covertly using lofts as dwelling and studio space.  In 1977 the building was
officially converted to residential space above the first floor.  By then the magnificent mansard roof had been sorely altered.  But surprisingly, the great bulk of the facade had survived wonderfully intact.  

Where books and boots had once been manufactured, artists like Dina Recananti and Dorothea Rockburne, film maker Catherine Gund, musician Kristian Roebling and photographers Arthur Elgort, David Lawrence and Greg Kadel would make their homes.

photographs by the author