The John Vogt & Co. Store - 502-504 Broadway

The private homes of Manhattan's wealthy citizens had moved northward before 1853 when the luxurious marble-fronted St. Nicholas Hotel opened on Broadway between Spring and Broome Streets. The exclusive hotel, which cost about $1 million to construct, would attract handsome retail stores around it.

In 1859 Homer Bostwick hired architect John Kellum to design an upscale emporium building across the street from the St. Nicholas, at Nos. 502-504 Broadway.  Kellum had just dissolved his partnership with Gamaliel King, and was now partnered with his son as Kellum & Son.

The cast iron storefront of clustered columns and regimented arches was manufactured by the Architectural Iron Works.  Its catalogue listed these capitals as "Gothic."  Above, the four stories of white marble were distinguished by two-story arches, separated by slim engaged columns which would later earn the style "sperm candle" because of the similarity to candles made from the waxy substance found in the head cavities of the sperm whale.

Kellum & Son stacked nubby, faceted blocks up the side piers, which provided a somewhat incongruous frame when compared with the otherwise gentle lines of the facade.  Below the stone cornice a corbel table carried on the arched motif.  High above Broadway two stone urns were the finishing touches.

While the building was completed in 1860, the Civil War prevented tenants from moving in until 1866.  That year C. G. Gunther & Sons moved into the top floor.   Described as "The oldest and largest fur house in the United States," it was founded in 1820 by Christian G. Gunther at No. 46 Maiden Lane and remained at that location until now.  The firm, now headed by C. Godfrey Gunther, not only imported raw furs and skins, but manufactured fur clothing and accessories.

In May 1866 china and "fancy goods" dealers John Vogt & Co. moved into the first four floors.  Founded in 1852 it had been operating from William Street.   In its new store, according to the History of New York in 1868, "may now be seen the most magnificent and choice stocks of merchandise" and "an endless variety of curious, chase, quaint, and elaborate designs, and combining superb beauty of shapes, colors, and embellishments with rare excellence of materials and most exquisite workmanship in respect to moulding, carving, etc."

The first floor was the "Porcelain Ware" showroom.  Here well-do-to female shoppers browsed among dinnerware, tea services, and "toilet ware."  The second floor contained "Bohemian and Belgian Glass Ware, Lava Wave, German China, and Parian Marble."  Reproductions of classical statuary suitable for Victorian parlors were available here.  Among the copies available in 1868 were "Cupid captive by Venus; Sybilla, with guitar; Paul and Virginia (from that memorable and pathetic story); [and] Mounted Amazon attacked by a leopard."  The third and fourth floors were used for warehousing stock.

Only four months after John Vogt & Co. opened, disaster struck.  On October 8, 1866 The New York Times reported "A destructive fire occurred in the marble building No. 502 Broadway, on Saturday night.  The building was occupied by C. G. Gunther & Sons, furriers, and John Vogt & Co., dealers in china and glass."  The devastating fire roared through the floors and sparks set St. Patrick's Cathedral several blocks away on Mott Street ablaze.


Damage to the church and "its interior adornments" were estimated at $150,000; while the Broadway emporium was gutted.   The Times reported "the edifice was reduced to ashes."  The losses suffered by John Vogt & Co. and C. G. Gunther & Sons was around $350,000--approximately $5.4 million in 2017.

The History of New York noted "the whole edifice underwent a thorough and costly refitting and adornment."  Undaunted, both companies moved back into the restored building.

By 1872 John Vogt & Co. had left and C. G. Gunther's Sons had expanded throughout the lower floors.  Formerly a wholesale house, it now opened both a men's and a women's store.  On December 28, 1872 an advertisement in Harper's Bazaar offered "Ladies' Furs," an "elegant assortment of seal-skin fur, in all the leading styles of sacques and turbans."

Choosing its audience carefully, C. G. Gunther's Sons placed its ad for menswear that same month in the Army, Navy, Air Force Journal & Register.   The advertisement gave a hint of the wide variety of items manufactured and sold here.  Well-to-do patrons were offered "caps, collars, gloves, gauntlets, etc., including the latest styles in seal skin fur."  There was also a "large and elegant stock of fur robes and skins for carriage and sleigh use" and "seal coats and vests."

Earlier that year, in October, the New-York Tribune dedicated an article to C. G. Gunther's Sons.  It described the luxurious pelts used to create items worn by Manhattan's wealthiest citizens.  "The most costly furs are those made from the Russian and 'Crown' Sable, which always have been and always will be fashionable." The article explained that the term "Crown" sable indicated these were the skins used by the Czar.

The prices quoted were an indication of the C. G. Gunther's Sons' carriage trade customers. "The price of a set, consisting of muff and boa, or collar, varies from $115 to $1,000.  The darker the fur the more expensive, other things being equal."  The cheapest price mentioned would be equal to about $2,300 today; the most expensive about $20,000.

The Tribune's article included mention of the extraordinary number of furs--a list that would shock readers today.  Included were fox, chinchilla, mink, ermine, seal, beaver, monkey, marten, bear, buffalo, wolverine, lynx and wildcat.  The writer decided "the purchasers who cannot find their wants immediately supplied must be difficult to please."

A would-be burglar was attracted to the expensive goods within the store early on a September morning in 1874.  Michael Moreno, described by The Times as "an Italian living at No. 59 Crosby street," was noticed loitering outside by the night watchman.  The guard used a forceful incentive to prompt the Moreno to move on; but was trumped.  "The watchman caught hold of the Italian and drew his club, as if to strike him, when the latter drew a revolver."

Hearing the commotion, Police Officer Corey rushed in.  He grabbed Moreno by the collar, only to find the revolver now pointed at him.  For his bold move Moreno received a "stunning blow on the forehead" by the policeman's baton.

The blow was severe enough that the next morning he was moved from his jail cell to Bellevue Hospital.  But he had not learned his lesson about 19th century law enforcement yet.   The newspaper reported that he was "so threatening" that an officer was called in to help the nurses undress him.  Finally he was placed in a strait-jacket.

If the authorities had searched Moreno for weapons, they missed his knife.  He managed to escape from the strait-jacket then attacked the police officer with the knife.  The policeman "was obliged to use his club to protect himself."  It all ended badly for the combative would-be burglar.  "At a late hour last night Moreno was lying in a dangerous condition in the hospital," reported The Times on September 19, 1874.

Although C. G. Gunther's Sons had returned to the building after the ruinous fire a decade earlier, it would no do so in 1876.  The conflagration of February 8 quickly became known nation-wide as the "Great Broadway Fire."  The Tribune described it in florid Victorian prose saying "The air rushed into the vortex of the ascending flame from every direction, and lifted the fire in gigantic billows that rolled aloft in roaming surges to a great height."

Structures along Broadway collapsed during the massive fire.  Harper's Weekly, February 1876 (copyright expired)

Buildings collapsed, others were gutted.  Nos. 502-504 Broadway was heavily damaged.  The tailor's trimmings firm of Lesher, Whitman & Co. took advantage of catastrophe by quickly purchasing the building.  Three days later, even while The Times remarked "The public interest in the ruins of the buildings destroyed by fire Last Tuesday night was unabated yesterday," it reported "Messrs. Lesher, Whitman & Co. yesterday purchased the premises No. 502 and 504 Broadway, at present occupied by Messrs. C. G. Gunther & Co. as a fur store."

The article explained that Lesher, Whitman & Co. would take over the building "as soon as Messrs. Gunther & Co. shall have removed."  One month later C. G. Gunther's Sons moved into "the new and capacious building No. 184 Fifth avenue" at 23rd Street.

Elegant carriages once waited outside the building as the wives of millionaires shopped for glassware and, later, furs.

Lesher, Whitman & Co. conducted business from the restored building with little fanfare for more than a decade.  The only upheaval seems to have been the ongoing battle with the New York District Rail Company in 1886 and 1887.  The company proposed to build a "railroad underneath Broadway."  Stephen R. Lesher, head of the firm, vehemently fought against it.

It was not until 1889 that trouble came; not through business troubles, but through love.  Stephen Lesher's son, Charles S. Lesher, was 20 years old at the time and still lived in the family's handsome house at No. 330 Madison Avenue.  He was employed by the insurance firm Weed & Kennedy on Pine Street.

The young man became enamored with 28-year old Leonore Mitchell, described by The Times as "a handsome woman."  Shockingly, Lenore asserted that the two were "on intimate terms," and Charles admitted, according to the newspaper, "that he had spent a good deal of his time in her company."

But, according to Leonore, he became fiercely jealous.  It came to a climax when he called on her at her home at No. 21 West 31st Street on March 4.  During the preliminary hearing she declared he "induced her to drink a glass of wine in which he poured a quantity of digitalis."  Soon afterwards she became ill and "was compelled to call in a doctor, who saved her life."

Lesher was arrested for attempted murder.  His accuser appeared in the courtroom on May 14 "fashionably attired and was accompanied by a colored maid, Laura Paul."  She told the court that when he called on her a few days after the incident, he admitted to poisoning her; "but said that he had been drinking, or he would not have done it."

Lesher insisted it was all a lie and that Leonore was simply attempting to blackmail him.  He claimed to have a letter from her in which she confessed to attempted suicide.  His father provided the $1,000 bail pending his court case.

More heartbreak came to the Lesher family six years later when Charles's older brother Stephen visited the family's ranch at Rockwood Station, Texas.  While riding there his horse stepped into a prairie dog burrow and fell, rolling on top of Lesher.   He suffered internal injuries and decided to return to New York "to get competent advice."  Doctors gave him morphine to ease the pain on the trip.

There was no railroad connecting Texas and New York; so Lesher boarded the steamer Neuces.  According to other passengers, when the 35-year old went to his berth at 11:00 on the night of June 18, he was "cheerful."  But when Stephen Lesher, Sr. met the Neuces in New York Harbor four days later he would not be greeting his son, but retrieving his body.  The 35-year old had been found dead in his berth, the apparent victim of an overdose.

At the time Wertheimer & Co., makers of gloves, was also in the Broadway building.  On Christmas Eve 1891 Bloomindale's ran an advertisement noting "Special--We have secured the entire sample stock of Lined Gloves from Wertheimer & Co...Ladies' and Men's, with and without fur tops."  The department store announced that although they were normally priced at up to $2.98 per pair, "We shall put these out as a great Holiday Special at 79c. per pair."  The store warned "Only 1,200 pairs; lingerers may be losers."


Lesher, Whitman & Co. would remain in the Broadway building until 1900.  In the meantime, other firms leased space.  Benjamin & Caspary, cloak makers, were here by 1897.  The firm sent a letter to the Citizens' Union headquarters in October that year, endorsing Seth Low for reelection to mayor.  It said in part "We wish to inform you that we are enthusiastically in favor of the election of Seth Low."

The endorsement may not have been totally unbiased.  Seth Low owned the Broadway building at the time and was, therefore, Benjamin & Caspary's landlord.  The property values along Broadway were an undergoing astonishing boom.  In 1898 502-504 Broadway was valued at $250,000 and a year later at $300,000.

As Lesher, Whitman & Co. moved out, D. Jones & Sons moved in.  The wholesale shirt makers were best known for their "Princely" and "Emperor" brands.  In January 1901 The American Hatter insisted "No shirt buyer can afford to miss this line.  Everything that is desirable in plain, fancy and negligee, or any variety of shirt, is here."

The building was slathered with D. Jones & Sons advertising in 1902.  New York, the Metropolis (copyright expired)

Headed by Dramin Jones, the firm included sons Joseph, Morris and Henry.  Calling itself "the largest producers of popular priced shirts in the world" in 1902, it maintained a massive factory in Johnstown, Pennsylvania.

The company was joined in the building on January 1, 1904 by Meinhard-Cozzens Company, makers and sellers of ladies' neckwear and belts.   "Neckwear" for women in 1904 referred to the high, stiff collars indispensable to a fashionable Edwardian wardrobe.

Meinhard-Cozzens offered a variety of elegant women's collars.  Fabrics, Fancy Goods and Notions, December 1905 (copyright expired)

By 1909 another women's neckwear company had moved in.  Klauber Bros. & Co. advertised "Embroideries, Laces, Neckwear, and Novelties."

In November 1911 when Seth Low sold the building to Charles Lane, the three tenants were still here.  D. Jones & Son was now known as Phillips-Jones Co.; but was still selling its highly-successful Emperor Shirts.  Lane paid Low $251,000 for the property, a price the astonished Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide pointed out was "$194,000 less than the assessed value."

Lane quickly resold the building a month later.  On December 23 the Record & Guide hinted "The buyer is said to be the Coca-Cola Co."  The rumor was colorful but false.  The purchaser was William H. Browning of Browning, King & Co. clothiers.  He told reporters he had not decided what he would do with the property and "that the purchase was merely for investment."

Throughout the next nine years the building continued to house apparel manufacturers.  Philips-Jones employed 150 men, and 23 women in their shirt making shop.  In 1917 another shirt manufacturer, Goodman, Cohen & Co. took 12,500 square feet of space; while Everett, Heaney & Co. dealt in fabrics.

For the first time in decades Nos. 502-504 Broadway was home to just one company when S. Blechman & Sons leased the entire building in July 1920.  Listed in directories as "dry goods distributors," the firm produced hosiery, underwear and other knit goods.  And it found itself at odds with the labor unions several times over the next few years.

In 1934 management won a court order prohibiting strikers from carrying picket signs in front of the building.  When the union refused to comply, S. Blechman & Sons went back to court, asking for a contempt of court ruling.  In a case of deja vu the firm was back in court in 1937 when the union "flouted the injunction which restrained it from carrying signs...asserting that S. Blechman Sons, Inc...was unfair to labor."  The union was fined $250 for that offense.

The following year Simon Blechman commissioned architect Harry Hurwit to design the company's new $65,000 building.  Then in what was apparently a sudden change of mind, it purchased the old Rouss Building at Nos. 549-555 Broadway.

The building was home to Canal Jeans on a much-changed Broadway.  photo by Edmund Vincent Gillon from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The stretch of Broadway had not been the shopping district of the carriage trade for decades.  Until the last quarter of the century its once-elegant buildings would be overlooked and abused.   With the renaissance of the Soho neighborhood, Canal Jeans leased ground floor of 502-504 Broadway in 1992.

Through it all, little changed to Kellum & Son's striking 1860 facade.   In 2003 Bloomingdale's leased the former Canal Jeans store in the building where 112 years earlier it had purchased an entire line of gloves.

photographs by the author

the 1895 H. Richter's Sons Building - 627-629 Broadway

In 1888 clothiers A. H. King & Co. operated from the combined storefronts of Nos. 627 and 629 Broadway, between Houston and Bleecker Streets.  Their well-heeled patrons could afford the silk-lined overcoats it advertised that September which cost the equivalent of $817 today.  

At the time H. Richter's Sons was located a few blocks to the south, at Nos. 502-504 Broadway.  The men's neckwear manufacturer hired Ehrich Weiss as an assistant lining cutter in 1889.  The Austrian-born immigrant would later change his professional name to Harry Houdini.

A. H. King & Co. would have to find a temporary location for its store in 1894 when H. Richter's Sons demolished Nos. 627 and 629 Broadway and hired architect Louis Korn to design a modern replacement loft and store building on the site.  Korn was prolific in the area at the time, designing dozens of loft buildings on Lower Fifth Avenue, Broadway and the streets between.

He produced at 10-story Renaissance Revival style structure faced in tan brick and limestone with terra cotta decoration that ran through the block to Mercer Street.  Completed in 1895, the openings of the third through seventh floors were enclosed within two five-story elliptical arches.  Elaborate Renaissance-inspired terra cotta decorations embellished the eighth floor, and the top two floors were unified by double-height Corinthian pilasters.  A regal stone balustrade perched above the cornice.

King's Photographic Views of New York, (copyright expired)

A. H. King & Co. moved back to its old address in the new Richter Building along with its landlord, whose factory engulfed the second, third and eighth floors.  Other space was leased to clothing manufacturer Samuel Gumpert & Co.; millinery firm Weber & Leopold; and Veit, Son & Co., "millinery ornaments and braids."

H. Richter's Sons installed a state-of-the-art security system into its facilities.  A burglar alarm was connected to the Holmes Electric Protective Co. which had keys to the space.  The firm had not been in its new home long before the system proved its worth.

The Jewish-owned firm was closed on Saturdays and around noon on March 7 a signal alerted the alarm company that someone was attempting to break into the eighth full offices.  Two investigators were sent to the building.

The New York Times reported "Richter's Sons keep their safe in the office, and the private detectives were in hopes of catching the burglar.  He heard them coming, however, and as they separated on the top landing, one to take each door of the office, he ran between them, down the stairs, and to the street."  The private detectives were close on his heels and all three reached the street nearly together.  

The crook was Firmon J. Heiman, alias Levy, called by police "a sneak-thief and burglar, whose picture is in the Rogues' Gallery."  Unfortunately for him, there were two policemen on the corner of Bleecker Street and Broadway and he was soon behind bars at Police Headquarters.

So grateful were the Richter brothers that the alarm had prevented a theft that they placed a prominent advertisement in the New-York Tribune the following week in the form of a letter to Holmes.  It said in part:

There is no doubt but what we would have suffered a severe loss on Saturday last had our building not been equipped with your Electric wires.  It pleases us that through your efforts New York City has one thief less at large.

The Millinery Trade Review, July 1904 (copyright expired)

Weber & Leopold was also up-to-date in terms of technology.  As it geared up for its summer line of hats in February 1902, it placed an advertisement in The New York Herald seeking "Experienced power operators on W. & G. machine millinery work; long season; highest pay."

Original tenants Veit, Son & Co. and A. H. King & Co. were still in the building in 1907 when they were joined by the Commercial Shirt Co. and Werner, Julius & Sommer Co., makers of men's clothing.  In 1909 R. G. S. Novelty Co., manufacturers of "boys waists" and "wash suits" occupied space as well.

H. Richter's Sons' advertisements were unexpectedly understated.  The Sun, March 7, 1909 (copyright expired)

On March 26, 1912 fire broke out in the fire story building at No. 623 Broadway.  The intense blaze quickly spread to No. 625 and then, according Insurance Engineering magazine, "In the twelfth story the fire entered through the windows in the light shaft between 625 and 627-629, so rapid was the spread in the stories below."  The publication blamed inadequate protections for the severe damage to the H. Richter's Sons building.  "The flimsy protection in the windows in the light shaft in 627-629 Broadway could not withstand the heat of the fire and the tenth story was completely gutted."

The top story of the Richter Building was gutted.  Insurance Engineering, May 1912 (copyright expired

When repairs were completed the Commercial Shirt Company moved back into its top floor space.  At 7:30 on the evening of December 9 five young women and three men were at work when fire struck again.  This time it broke out in the cellar of Veit, Son & Co.  Ironically the firm was preparing to move out after nearly a decade.  All its stock had been packed in cases ready for the move.

As the fire spread upward to the store level, the top floor workers remained unaware until smoke wafted upward.  The New-York Tribune reported "Owing to the smoke and the poor means of reaching the blaze the firemen had a hard time fighting the fire."  That smoke made escape down the staircases impossible for the Commercial Shirt Company employees, who had to negotiate the ten stories to the street down the Mercer Street fire escape.

Once again fire repairs were made.  Commercial Shirt Co. remained in the building, employing forty men and sixty women.  The waist manufacturing firm International Mfg. Co. was also a large concern, with nine men, thirty-five women, and one teenager less than 16-years old working in its factory.   H. Richter's Sons staff included twenty-four men and fifty-two women with five office workers.

On October 31, 1915 the New-York Tribune reported on a new tenant.  Kaplan Brothers had taken 20,000 square feet in the Richter Building "for the sale of artificial foliage."   Artificial flowers were an important decoration for women's hats.  Soon Katz & Auerbach, dealers in artificial flowers and feathers, took space as well.

The latter firm's name appeared in newspapers for all the wrong reasons in the summer of 1921.  One of its partners, Maurice Auerbach, had married on January 11, 1920.  Things quickly deteriorated in the marriage.  In August 1921 Doris Auerbach went to court charging "that her husband had struck her on several occasions since their marriage and threatened her with death," according to the New-York Tribune on August 6.

She additionally complained that she had "no home worthy the name."  He refused to buy common apartment furnishings like dishes or carpets.  After enduring the physical, mental and verbal abuse for months, Doris moved in with her parents in February 1921.  Concerned that a divorce was imminent, Auerbach transferred all his personal assets to the company.  Doris's affidavit quoted him as saying "You haven't a thing on me.  I have transferred everything I own to corporations and you can't use me as a meal ticket any longer.  I am sick of you and everything connected with you.  Back to Ma."

In 1959 the building was purchased by swimwear manufacturer Fay Fischel who had founded the firm with her husband in 1937.    Three decades later, while the swimwear factory was gone, the Fischels still retained possession of the building, and the floors that were once filled with garment workers and sewing machines now held modern offices spaces.

New York University took space in the building in 2008.  A subsequent renovation completed in 2009 resulted in a store on the ground floor sharing space with the school's lobby and classrooms, conference rooms and offices on the upper floors.

photographs by the author

The Lost Ingraham House - 504 Broome Street

The Federal style of No. 504 (right) predated its fancier Second Empire neighbor by decades.  The architectural integrity of No. 504 was relatively intact in 1935.  photo by Berenice Abbott, from the collection of the New York Public Library

After New Yorkers had been deprived of their tea supply throughout the Revolution, merchant John Broome (the first alderman appointed after the departure of the British) purchased two million pounds of tea from China.  The deal not only replenished New Yorkers' tea caddies, but sparked a robust trade with China.  Broome was honored with the naming of a street in the neighborhood known as New Delaney's Square.

Among the handsome Federal style homes that were erected in the 1820's and '30s was No. 504 Broome Street, on the northwest corner of South Fifth Avenue (later West Broadway).  Two-and-a-half stories tall, its red brick facade was trimmed in simple stone lintels and sills.  Above the wooden cornice two tall, hooded dormers punched through the peaked roof.  The staircase inside hugged the southern wall, necessitating the slightly offset appearance of the second floor openings.

By the early 1840's the house was home to Mrs. S. R. Ingraham.  She was apparently a window, since a Mr. Ingraham never appears in directories.  She was an ardent reformer, acting as corresponding secretary of the American Female Moral Reform Society in 1840.  

Like so many other widows, Mrs. Ingraham rented rooms to supplement her income.  In 1842 a Dr. Banning boarded in the house.  He published the Medical Gazette (using the Broome Street address) and gave lectures.  On April 25, 1844, for example, he spoke on "Dyspepsis and its Attendants, Local and General Debility, and Affections of the Heart and Lungs."

Living in the attic level were one or two servants--most likely Irish girls.  Given Mrs. Ingraham's strict moral character, one can only imagine her horror when one of them narrowly escaped the attack of a rapist on June 4, 1844.  An announcement from the office of Mayor James Harper recounted that "a young woman residing with a respectable family at 504 Broome street, having been sent on an errand, lost her way, and wandered about the city till between 8 and 9 o'clock P. M. when she applied for direction to a well dressed man."

He offered to show her the way, but instead "enticed her into a house of ill fame in a narrow, dark street, and there endeavored to accomplish her ruin, and threatened her life, and drew a knife upon her."  The feisty girl was more than he could handle.  She wrested the knife from him, broke open the locked door, and fled.  When word of the attack reached the newly-elected mayor he offered a $100 reward for the capture of the attacker.  It was a significant enticement--equal to more than $3,500 today.

Mrs. Ingraham continued to involve herself in worthy causes.  On June 19, 1845 the New-York Daily Tribune reported on the attempts of a group of women to establish an Asylum for Discharged Female Convicts.  "They have met, thus far, with little success; but touched by the position of several women, who, on receiving their discharge, were anxiously waiting in hope there would be means provided to save them from return to their former suffering and polluted life, they have taken a house and begun their good work in faith that Heaven must take heed that such an enterprise may not fail, and touch the hearts of men to aid it."  

Mrs. S. R. Ingraham was on the executive committee of that group.  She was, as well, the corresponding secretary of the House of Industry and Home for the Friendless on East 30th Street.  

Two advertisements placed in 1848 provide evidence that the neighborhood was still respectable.  One read "A gentleman and lady, or two or three single gentlemen, can be accommodated in a small family, where few boarders are taken."   The number of boarders in a location was an indication of its exclusivity.  The other ad noted "the house is pleasant and the neighborhood genteel."

In 1852 the house and lot were sold at auction.  It was purchased by John Crothers and his wife, Jane.  A clothier and tailor, his shop was on Chatham Street.  Like Mrs. Ingraham, he was an upright citizen, highly involved with the Reformed Presbyterian Church.  In 1853 he sat on the Committee on Seminary Debt, &c., tasked with devising a plan to pay off the debt of the Presbyterian Seminary.

The couple had three children, John C., Nicholas L., and Mary A Crothers.  Mary taught in the Girls' Department of Public School No. 50 on 20th Street between Second and Third Avenues.  In 1854 she was earning $100 a year--or about $3,150 in today's money.

The Crothers took in a single boarder in 1855 and '56.  Edward N. Shields was a produce merchant in the Washington Market.

The Crothers family continued to occupy No. 504 through the Civil War years.  John's store was still listed at No. 90 Chatham Street as late as 1861.  By then Mary's salary had tripled to $300--almost $9,000 a year today.  She was still teaching at P.S. 50 in 1865.  

In 1869 the neighborhood around the house was seeing drastic change as private homes increasingly gave way to commerce.  The Crothers family was no longer listed at the Broome Street address that year, although they retained possession and leased the property for decades.

It was about this time that the ground floor of No. 504 was converted for business and the upper section was operated as a rooming house.  It now drew attention not for the charitable works of its owner, but for far more disquieting reasons.

On August 14, 1869 The New York Times reported on a gruesome discovery.  "John Brown, a native of England, was found dead yesterday morning in the water-closet of the premises No. 504 Broome-street."

The rooms upstairs may have been used for more nefarious purposes than merely sleeping.  A common ploy for prostitutes in the 19th century was to work with a cohort who would sneak into the dark room while her client was distracted and remove cash and valuables from his clothing.  That may have been what took place on November 3, 1870 when Abraham P. Hopper, who lived in Newfoundland, New Jersey, was robbed of $300 (a significant $6,000 in today's money).  John Collins was arrested and convicted for the theft.

In the meantime Charles Nagel ran his "eating-house" on the ground floor.  He was granted permission by the Board of Aldermen on September 30, 1872 "to place a watering-trough in front of his premises, 504 Broome Street."  Nagel was responsible for all costs and the resolution came with the caveat that it would "remain only during the pleasure of the Common Council."

Although Nagel listed the business year after year as a restaurant, it was in fact more accurately described as a saloon.  On Sunday, May 21, 1876, bartender Frederick C. Hensell sold a beer to the wrong patron.  The entire police force had been give orders "for the strict enforcement of the Excise law" which prohibited the sale of alcohol on Sundays.  The New York Herald reported "the result was the wholesale arrest of liquor store proprietors and their barkeepers."  Among those hauled in was Frederick Hensell.

Charles Nagel was living above the saloon by at least 1879.  That year he listed his business as "beer."  He paid a fee equal to about $2,000 today for his liquor license every year through 1887.

In January 1888 Jane C. Crothers hired the architectural firm of Thayer & Robinson to erect a three-story brick extension to the rear.  The following month she leased the property to Lewis C. Allen for ten years.

Five years into his lease Allen seems to have decided to give up the saloon business.  An advertisement appeared in The Evening World on September 16, 1893 offering: "Saloon, 504 Broome st., corner South 5th ave; long lease, low rent; full license."

Jane Crothers died around 1895.  On January 1, 1896 John and Nicholas leased the property to Michael J. Moran.  He ran the saloon at least through 1905.  Following Moran there would be a relatively quick succession of proprietors.  In 1908 the excise license was held by Felix Bellando, who referred to the rented rooms upstairs as a "hotel" on his application.  In 1913 the bar was operated by Henry Bullwinkel, and in 1917 by Henry Schubkegel.

In 1939 a automobile repair shop operated from the former saloon space. from the collection of the New York Public Library

Around two years later billboards covered the now-vacant upper floors.  photo via the NYC Dept. of Records & Information Services

Prohibition put an end to the four decade old tradition of a saloon in the venerable building.  A large opening was gouged into the West Broadway facade to accommodate an auto repair shop.  And then, in 1947, the relic of a more refined period on Broome Street was demolished to make way for a parking lot "of more than 5 motor vehicles."

In 1996 the current three-story building was completed on the site.

Lincoln's Ghost, A Smuggling Dressmaker, and German Propagandists - 1153 Broadway

In 2018 elements of the 1916 storefront had survived.

The formal opening of the elegant Madison Square Park in 1847 prompted residential development within the surrounding blocks.  Around 1849 or shortly thereafter construction began on No. 1153 Broadway near the southwest corner of 27th Street.   The three-story Italianate-style house-and-store was an ample 24 feet wide.  It was completed by 1851 when Joseph Oatwell listed both his residence and his business here.

Oatwell was described in directories as a "marble cutter," a term which diminished his artistic skills.  His stone carving operation was further up Broadway, at the corner of 35th Street.  The store at No. 1153, his "warerooms," showcased examples of Joseph Oatwell & Son's work, mostly marble mantels.

Respected within the industry, he had been a delegate from New York City to the State Convention of Mechanics in Utica in 1835.  And in 1840, while still located on Sullivan Street, his workers' expert artistry received a silver medal at the American Institute's annual exhibition for "the best chimney piece."

Oatwell had barely set up his operation in the new building when he was sued by a supplier, Dietz, Dietz & Weed.  The problem was that Oatwell had given the firm two promissory notes, totaling $504, or about $16,500 in today's money.  But when his creditors grew impatient for their funds, they took him to court on February 9, 1852.  Oatwell countered that they "had taken them at usurious interest."  The jury was unmoved and ruled for the plaintiffs.

The size of his stone cutting and carving facility was evidenced in 1853 when he offered space for lease there.  "Room to let, with steam power--A good room, 35 by 40 feet, suitable for some light manufacturing business."  Mid-19th century work conditions were reflected in his adding "not extra hazardous."  Those interested were told to inquire a Joseph Oatwell & Son, 1,153 Broadway.

By the spring of 1856 it seems Joseph Oakley was ready to retire.  An auction in the store was held on March 27 to liquidate the stock.  Auctioneers Pells & Co. described the broad range of marbles used in the finished mantels.  "Sale of Marble Mantels by auction...at the warerooms of Mr. J. Oatwell, 1,153 Broadway, comprising mantels of Italian statuary, ordinary, veined and sienna, Spanish orocatel, black and gold, Lisbon, American statuary and mosaic marbles."  (The term "statuary marble" referred to high-quality stone like Carrara.)   The announcement added "Many of the mantels are modern designs, and all well executed."

Joseph Oatwell died upstate in Hughsonville, New York seven years later. on February 14, 1863.  His obituary noted simply, "for many years a resident of New-York City."

At the time, wealthy New Yorkers exhibited their culture and refinement by filling their homes with European paintings and sculptures.  Art dealers haunted the auction houses of France and Italy where they purchased artwork--some good, some not--for clients many of whom were more interested in quantity than quality.  For most collectors, the very concept of "American art" was laughable.

But in November 1869 a bold move was made by daguerreotypist Abraham Bogardus when he opened the Bogardus' American Fine Art Gallery.  Bogardus had taken over the entire building at No. 1153.  At its opening Bogardus not only presented American oil paintings; but examples of his photography--an almost entirely new field of art.  Many of the artists were there for the private viewing on the evening of November 15.

The New York Times reported the following day, "The gallery is not a very extensive one, but it contains already about one hundred paintings by native artists."  After mentioning many of the artists and paintings, it focused on three works.  "The most noticeable are William Hart's 'Sylvan Scene, Maine,' and Van Elten's 'Autumn in the Shawangunk Mountains.'  De Haas' 'West Hampton Beach' is also worth of attention, though not one of his best pictures."

Art critics were taken with Maurice Frederick Hendrik de Haas's Westhampton Beach, executed in 1868.

The correspondent from the Rockland County Journal was perhaps more impressed.  He wrote on December 4 "The gallery is laid out in a very tasteful manner and the pictures are well arranged.  The room is well lighted from above by a large skylight, and the artists cannot reasonable complain about their pictures being hung in a poor light."  He, too, picked out William Hart's Sylvan Scene, Maine, "which was painted in his peculiar dreamy style."

Then the writer digressed as he spent as much column space describing the party as he had the artwork.  "In one of the upper rooms tables were loaded with flowers, fruit and all the delicacies of the season.  The most fastidious could find something here to suit his exquisite tastes either in the eating or drinking line.  The punch and the segars were indeed choice and excellent and ample justice was done to both; but they were not in any way used to excess, for the party dispersed about eleven o'clock amid much good feeling and tobacco smoke."

Although neither critic mentioned Bogardus's photography--it may be that that branch of the gallery was not ready yet--it was a major part of the business.  On September 1, 1871 The Photographer's Friend described:  "The first floor is fitted up in superb style.  The front portion is devoted to photographic specimens, stereoscopic views, chromos, engravings, carved goods, artists' fine materials, frames and velvet passepartouts.  On this floor the orders are all received.  Adjoining this salesroom on the same floor is a 'Fine Art Gallery,' filled with the choicest oil paintings by celebrated artists, all framed with elegance and good taste."

The writer was shocked at the prices for some of the paintings.  "Some of these masterpieces are valued at three thousand dollars."  (It was understandable sticker-shock, equal to more than $62,000 today.)

On the second floor were the artists' work rooms where photographs and prints were matted and framed.  The sky-lit third floor held the "operating and printing rooms," and Bogardus's private office.   The extensive operation required a staff of about 20.  The Photographer's Friend ended its article saying "The place has an air of cheerfulness and thrift."

Bogardus produced this rather severe looking selfie.  original source unknown

The same year that Abraham Bogardus opened the Broadway gallery he was called upon by P. T. Barnum to help in a law suit against spirit photographer William H. Mumler.   Mumler repeatedly produced double-exposure photographs of a living sitter with the phantom form of a deceased relative looming behind.  But for Barnum he went too far when he publicized a photograph of former First Lady Mary Todd Lincoln with the ghost of her martyred husband.

Mumler's photograph of Mary Todd Lincoln with the dead President was a sensation - from the collection of the Allen County [Illinois] Public Library

Barnum hired Bogardus to fabricate a portrait of him with the ghost of Abraham Lincoln.  The resulting image was produced in court as evidence.  Although Mumler was not found guilty, it was the end of his career and he died nearly penniless.

Bogardus's image of Barnum and Lincoln -- original source unknown

Bogardus's Fine Art Gallery was gone by 1877 when No. 1153 was owned by "Madam" Eliza Rallings as her upscale dressmaking shop.  She was described by The New York Times as "a fashionable milliner and dress-maker."

Eliza had an secret enemy, possibly a competing dressmaker, who successfully managed to cause her intense grief early in 1878.  Like most modistes, in order to supply expensive gowns to Manhattan's socialites Eliza sailed to Europe to study the newest fashions and, in some cases, bring back items.

As she neared New York harbor on the White Star steamship Adriatic in March, customs agents were waiting.  The Times reported on March 13 that Special Treasury Agent Brackett had "received private information recently" that Eliza "intended to smuggle a large quantity of valuable goods, partly on orders for her customers and partly for sale in her shop."

When her two large "Saratoga trunks" were taken off the ship, she swore a declaration that they contained mostly personal effects, and named a few articles liable to duty.  She was no doubt shocked when, just as her trunks were about to be taken to the Broadway shop, they were seized by Customs officials.

"The scene in the seizure room of the Custom-house yesterday would have driven an average woman mad," said The Times.  The writer was astonished that Eliza had managed to stuff all the items into the two trunks at all.  "In the first place, there were 24 Spring bonnets, evidently of the newest Paris designs.  Certainly nothing like some of them was ever seen in this country before."  There were also "a variety of cloaks and other outer garments" and the writer could not resist mentioning that "One mantilla was perfectly gorgeous."

Then came the dressing gowns, the dresses, the underwear and the rolls of expensive fabrics.  "To give any notion of the style of these dresses would require columns of space," noted article.  The large box of trimmings "alone might turn a town full of women green with envy."  The newspaper estimated the retail valued at upwards of $10,000; more than a quarter of a million dollars today.

While Eliza was hit with $3,500 invoice, her true punishment was worse.  Officials said the goods "will probably b e kept in store a year, until the principal articles are out of fashion."

The bad publicity and the financial loss may have been responsible for Madam Ralling's closing her shop.  The following year she leased the building to J. G. Johnson for $2,500 per year for his furniture store.

Eliza sold No. 1153 to shoe manufacturer and retailer Henry J. Mahrenholz around 1889.  His store offered fashionable men's footwear at prices around $375 a pair today.  Around the time of his opening the Broadway store, Mahrenholz's name became more well-known for his personal problems than his shoes.

The Evening World, December 6, 1889 (copyright expired)

Mahrenholz was a devout Roman Catholic.  His children were educated at Catholic schools, and to ensure his family's sanctified interment, he had purchased several burial plots in the Roman Catholic Calvary Cemetery.  By now four of them held the remains of his first wife and three children.

In the spring of 1889 his daughter, Carrie, "a young lady accomplished and personally attractive," according to The New York Times, fell ill and died.  Her death came so abruptly that there was no time to summon a priest to administer the Last Rites.

Mahrenholz notified an undertaker.  When he learned that Carried had not received the sacraments, he mentioned that there might be a problem getting a permit of burial from the Catholic Church.  Indeed, the Church refused to allow the girl's body to be interred.

Mahrenholz went to Father Ducy of St. Leo's Church the following day; but he was at first avoided, left waiting for "an unreasonably long time," and finally told "you must accept that answer."  Mahrenholz was understandably infuriated.  "My daughter was a spotless as the Virgin Mary, and I should be an inhuman father if I did not feel indignant and incensed at this outrage." 

Carrie received a Protestant funeral and her body was cremated.  Her father went further, telling the managers of the crematorium he wanted all the bodies in the family plot in Calvary to be disinterred and cremated.  He publicly renounced the Pope and the Catholic Church saying the incident "illustrated a narrow, bigoted spirit."

The matter may have ended there if Vicar General Thomas Scott Preston had not tried to discredit Mahrenholz.  He told reporters that Mahrenholz's assertion that he had purchased the Calvary plots was patently untrue, saying "not one foot of ground was ever sold in it from the time it was opened until this day."

Now dishonor had been added to insult and cruelty and Mahrenholz fired back.  "I should have let this matter rest if the Vicar General had not made this public attempt to force a lie down my throat," he responded in his own mini press conference on June 3, 1889.  "He has assailed my veracity and I am ready to meet him with documentary evidence."

With that he produced the contract, dated September 6, 1869, proving his purchase.  "I will leave it to any unprejudiced man as to who is the liar in this controversy."

Henry Mahrenholz was still at No. 1153 Broadway when he was called for jury duty in 1895.  The case involved the death of Bridget Malone on July 25 that year.  The woman was attempting to board a Third Avenue cable car when she fell backwards, hitting her head on the pavement.  Conductor Robert Lawless was on trial for her death.

Mahrenholz was as outspoken in his opinions now as he had been six years earlier.  When Lawless was called to testify in his own defense, he blamed the motorman for the accident.  He claimed he had rung the bell signalling a passenger wanted to board, and when it did not stop, he rang three more times.  The car was still moving when Bridget fell.

Mahrenholz interrupted the court proceedings with his own take.  "You conductors ring too quick, anyhow.  The motorman can't understand you."

Lawless's attorney, H. W. Mayer, asked for Mahrenholz's removal from the jury.  It was a lucky break for the defendant.  The jury ruled that Bridget Malone's death was accidental and Lawless was released.

By 1899 both No. 1151 and 1153 Broadway were owned by Emma A. Hopkins.  The store in No. 1153 was being leased to the floral shop of J. H. Small & Sons.  It was run by John H. Small and John H. Small, Jr., who also had a branch in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel and another in Washington DC.

The Washington Times, March 29, 1902 (copyright expired)

The flowers and plants sold by J. H. Small & Sons came from their greenhouses outside Washington.  John H. Small, a pioneer in floral decoration, opened his first store in Washington DC in the 1870's.  John Jr. continued operating all three shops after Small died on February 14, 1909 at the age of 84.

Interestingly, when Emma A. Hopkins died in January 1913, her will demanded that the two Broadway properties be held in trust during the lifetime of her 38-year old son.  She directed that the income from the buildings go to her two grandsons.  This meant that neither building could be sold while J. J. Hopkins was still alive.

In August 1914 Dr. Bernard Dernberg arrived in New York City and within a few days had established the headquarters of the benignly named German Red Cross in the upper floors of No. 1153 Broadway.  The offices were, however, much more malignant.

The war in Europe had erupted two months earlier and before long newspaper reporters and Government officials were closely watching Dernberg's activities and those of other Germans, including Dr. Karl Fuehr and Captain Ewald Hecker.   Eventually the "German Red Cross" was exposed as a propaganda office and German military fund-raising organization.

On July 15, 1918 The New York Times revealed "The whole German propaganda which was put into operation before the European war was a month old, and the purpose of which was to debauch public opinion in the United States in favor of Germany and Austria-Hungary, is one the eve of being exposed."  Deputy Attorney General Alfred L. Becker told reporters "The headquarters of the propaganda machine were at 1,153 Broadway, in the offices of the German Red Cross Commission.

Dernberg had been deported after his attempts to "justify the murder of the passengers on the Lusitania."  In the meantime the German Red Cross had collected an estimated $1,985,000 towards the German war effort.

By then J. H. Small & Son was gone.  In 1916 the Estate of Emma A. Hopkins leased the building to tobacconist Max Schwarz.  in April that year he commissioned architect Alfred Freeman to do $7,000 in renovations, including the installation of "new fronts" to the store.

Max Scharz installed a magnificent glass-and-iron storefront.  original source unknown

In 1920 the telephone had become an essential fixture in offices, hotels and most residences.  To keep up, the New York Telephone Company opened five employment offices in Manhattan, Brooklyn and the Bronx, one of which was at No. 1153.  An advertisement on June 12, 1920 was enticing:

Girls Wanted--$15.00 a week to start.  Permanent work.  Regular increases with many opportunities to soon reach earnings of $85 to $100 a month.  Positions open in several departments.  No experience required.

The $15 weekly wages would be equal a yearly salary of a little over $9,500 today.

Emma Hopkins had wanted the side-by-side buildings to remain in her estate for the benefit of her grandsons, and assumed the provisions in her will would ensure that.  She had also assumed, however, that her son would pay the taxes.  He did not.

By December 1938 when the buildings were auctioned off the unpaid taxes had amounted to more than $1.5 million in today's dollars.  The new owner converted the ground floor space to a restaurant, with offices on the upper stories.

The Fifth Avenue neighborhood had suffered by mid-century, with tawdry, small businesses taking the one-upscale shops and offices.  One of the offices in No. 1153 was home to the publishers of the Business Guide at mid-century.  Its advertisements in 1953 touted "Buy from manufacturers, wholesalers, branded merchandise; thousands of items; mail order, direct selling, personal use."

Another tenants was the Broadway Mercantile Corp., importers and wholesalers of cheap novelty items.  In October 1956 it hawked "money-making Christmas Items" like the "fully automatic top squeeze cigarette lighters for $5 a dozen; "teen-age jewelry" at $5 per dozen; and photo ID bracelets for the same price.  "Here is a Real Buy!" screamed an ad in Billboard on October 13, 1956.  "Men's Billfolds.  Smooth Redwood, Tanwood, Alligator and Black Leather."  Those, too, sold for $5 per dozen.

photo via Commercial Observer, July 21, 2015

The remainder of the 20th century was unkind to the embattled little building.  By turn of the century the storefront had been mostly obliterated and garish, clashing vinyl awnings vied for attention.  But the burgeoning, trendy Nomad neighborhood would soon put an end to flashy stores.  The office building build in 1991 directly next door was renovated to the boutique Broadway Plaza Hotel in 2016.

The renovation paid homage to Max Scharz's elegant storefront.

A substantial renovation of No. 1153 began around the same time, completed in 2017.   The frame of the 1916 cast iron storefront has reappeared and the upper stories retain their domestic appearance of 170 years ago.

photograph by the author