When William Backhouse Astor died in 1875 his more than $100 million estate was passed on to his two sons, William and John Jacob III. They continued to run the family’s real estate empire from the 1835 Greek Revival building at 81 Prince Street, steps away from from Broadway.
But five years later, the brothers decided on a move uptown. They commissioned Thomas Stent, the Astor family architect of choice, to design a new Astor headquarters on West 26th
Street, and an imposing commercial building to replace the old one.
On the downtown site, Stent designed a what Sanitary and Heating Age announced in 1881 would be a six-story structure with "tin roofs and iron cornices." Stretching along Broadway from 569 to 575, the plot also engulfed the Prince Street property. The projected cost was
$350,000. Construction began on March 28, 1881 and was completed a
year later, almost to the day, on March 29.
The Broadway neighborhood had become one of expensive hotels
(the Metropolitan Hotel was directly across the street and the white marble St.Nicholas Hotel was just two blocks to the south) and refined shopping. Stent’s handsome new building was just the
ticket for a large retailer.
Constructed of red brick with contrasting stone, it blended what has been called the Commercial Palace Style with Ruskinian touches like the splayed stone treatment above the second floor windows. While creating a harmonious whole, each story was treated differently in its shape and size of window openings, carved ornamentation and details—such as the polished granite colonettes at the fourth and fifth floors. A wonderful cast iron storefront with handsome Corinthian columns offered broad expanses of glass.
Constructed of red brick with contrasting stone, it blended what has been called the Commercial Palace Style with Ruskinian touches like the splayed stone treatment above the second floor windows. While creating a harmonious whole, each story was treated differently in its shape and size of window openings, carved ornamentation and details—such as the polished granite colonettes at the fourth and fifth floors. A wonderful cast iron storefront with handsome Corinthian columns offered broad expanses of glass.
Six years earlier, M. N. Rogers and Charles B. Peet had
joined forces to open a men’s and boys’ clothing store on Broome Street, called
Rogers, Peet & Co. At a time when
ready-made clothing was considered lower class, the firm offered well-made
goods at affordable, if not inexpensive, prices. But the store’s success depended as much on
marketing as it did on its apparel. Rogers, Peet instructed its sales team on courtesy and service. By treating its customers as though they were
wealthy patrons of a more exclusive store, the company guaranteed return
business.
By the time 575 Broadway was ready for occupancy,
Rogers, Peet & Co. was ready to move uptown. On March 1, 1882, a folksy advertisement in the New-York Tribune mentioned “Does everybody know that we have moved since last Fall
to a much larger store! We refrain from
saying how large the new store is—come and see for yourself. You will find an ample stock of men’s and
boys’ clothing, men’s and boys’ furnishing goods, boy’s hats and caps, and withal,
the same obliging disposition toward visitors that characterized the old store—glad
to have you drop in.”
Charles Austin Bates wrote a rather self-indulgent periodical
entitled Charles Austin Bates Criticisms.
Regarding Rogers, Peet, however, he had only praise. Of a particular sales clerk he said “He
always remembers my name. He generally
remembers the size I wear of different things.
He always suggests that I have the bundle sent up, no matter how small it
is. When I want a particular tie fished
out of the front window he always gets it as if he had rather sell from the
window than from the counter.”
Bates insisted “If I were running a store I believe I would
send my clerks around to buy things of this salesman as the quickest way of
teaching them to sell goods.” He was
also impressed by the Rogers, Peets’ ticket that was included in each
purchase. The check promised money back
on an item that either did not wear well or was not satisfactory. Every purchase was delivered the same day,
packaged in what Bates called “a good, clean, strong-looking box.”
More important than the quality of the box, was its small label. “The name of the firm is so small that you
have to look closely to see it,” noted Bates.
The reason for the discreet label
was simple: “The package does not
advertise to every passerby that you have been buying clothes of a ready-made
clothing store.”
A Rogers, Peet &
Co. advertisement in the New-York Tribune in 1883 touted the store’s
above-board practices. “We have ready
for your inspection a stock of Winter clothes for men and boys peerless in
variety and honest in make up; every lot labeled with a truthful description of
its kind and quality, and every price warranted by our legal guarantee, which
insures you complete satisfaction or your money bank. These are the unassailable ramparts behind
which we invite you to deal.”
The marketing philosophy of Rogers, Peet & Co. was inspired. Window shoppers were well-treated in the
store. The Rogers, Peet & Co.
philosophy was “Sightseers are welcome.
A looker to-day may mean a buyer to-morrow.” Salesmen
were sent off to golf clubs with samples to stir the interest of men who had no
intention of shopping. And, realizing
that its customers were not Vanderbilts or Belmonts, the store worded its ads
in the vernacular of the more common shopper:
“Our straw hat business is described in a jiffy: Same grade and same kinds of straw as kept by
the very best hatter. In variety, you
get no advantage buying here; but you get the same hats for less money, and our
assurance that if anything goes wrong during the ‘life’ of the hat—you get your
money back.”
An advertisement in 1882 cautioned shoppers not to overlook the "fixings" department -- (copyright expired) |
While the clothing store took up the retail space, the upper
floors of 575 Broadway filled with hat dealers as the dry goods and millinery
district centered itself in the neighborhood.
Frank F. Hodges & Co. and Thomas H. Wood & Co. were
among the early tenants. An article in Millinery Trade Review in August
1889 gives an idea why Victorian hats nearly wiped out entire bird
species. It noted that Thomas H. Wood
was,
...showing all the rich novelties of the season in birds and fancy feather patterns, including new wing effects, single and double, full bonnet and turban trimmings, with top of front mountings, novel arrangements of birds, bird and foliage branches, and a very large assortment of medium grades of fancies, both imported and of their own make. Their lines of ostrich goods are exceptionally large to meet the increased demand. Black plumes and tips are prominent, while the latest ideas in novel shaded effects and novelty combinations of ostrich are also shown.
At the same time, Frank f. Hodges was showing the latest in
bonnets and hats “in the fur-felts,” and L. Duhain Jr. & Co. offered “an
attractive line of fancy feathers, birds and wing effects” and “an assortment
of velvet flowers with black and shaded foliage.”
Other millinery concerns in the building were Hirsch &
Park, makers of straw hats for ladies, misses and children; and H. O. Bernard
Manufacturing Co.
H. O. Bernard offered a wide selection of straw headwear in 1895 (copyright expired) |
In 1902, Rogers, Peet & Co. moved to a new store further
north on Broadway, ending two decades at the Prince Street and Broadway
location. The building was sold by the estates of William Astor and
John Jacob Astor on May 17, 1925. The
vast spaces once filled with men’s shirts and boys’ knickers became home to the
Lightolier Company, dealers in electric light fixtures.
Through the middle of the 20th century the
Broadway neighborhood suffered neglect, but resurged when the SoHo artist district took shape and the cast iron historic district was rediscovered. In 1996, 575 Broadway was remodeled by
Arata Isozaki as the Guggenheim Soho museum. Perfido Weiskopf Wagstaff &
Goettel executed the rehabilitation of the building, not only bringing it into
the 20th century with new electrical and plumbing, but analyzing the
layers of paint to discern the original 1882 colors.
Wanderers of SoHo’s art galleries, boutiques and museums
were stunned when only three years later the Guggenheim SoHo closed. On March 26, 1999, The New York Times reported
that “The Solomon R. Guggenheim’s SoHo branch, whose closing in January was
rumored to be permanent, will reopen—7,000 square feet smaller—on May 12. Most of the ground floor occupied by the
museum at 575 Broadway, at the corner of Prince Street, will soon become a
Prada store, the Italian retailer’s third in SoHo.”
Prada commissioned Dutch architect Remment Lucal Koolhaas to
renovate the space into what the AIA Guide to New York City calls “a whimsical wonderland.” The upper floors filled with the upscale magazine
publishers of Art in America, Interview and Antiques; and offices like those
of Bobbi Brown Cosmetics.
In January 2006, a devastating fire raged throughout five of
the six floors. Two hundred firefighters fought
the blaze for three hours before extinguishing it. Deputy Assistant Fire Chief Ronald R.
Spadafora announced that most of the interior would have to be rebuilt, “but
its brick façade escaped virtually unscathed,” wrote The New York Times reporter
Fernanda Santos. Today there is no hint
of the fire. The striking
brick-and-stone building is as handsome today as when Rogers, Peet & Co.
sold its first shirt in 1882.
photographs taken by the author
Rogers Peet really brings back memories: When I was a child (mid 1960's) my school uniforms came from Rogers Peet and I remember the mid August visits there to be fitted for the requisite blazer. Where the store was at that point, I have not the foggiest.
ReplyDeleteAnother great post in one of the best columns in the blogosphere. That's almost intergalactic.
wow. thanks for the REALLY generous compliment. Glad you enjoy the blog. During the mid-20th century there were several Rogers Peet stores in Manhattan--Warren Street, Union Square, 5th Avenue at 41st Street, 5th Avenue at 48th street.
DeleteI loved your post and really appreciate the history of 569 Broadway. Do you have any information regarding the building that preceeded the 1880s building? My third great grandfather, John Prescot, was a watchmaker and his business was located at 569 Broadway from the mid 1860's until he died in 1880. He emigrated from Ireland in the 1850s or 1860s.
ReplyDeleteThanks again for the history.
I do not know much about the building that preceded this one. Worth digging into! It is great that you know so much about your ancestor. congratulations on your research
DeleteWhen did the last Rogers Peet store close up shop (the only references I can find says "mid-1980s" ... and what finally drove them out of business when competitors like Brooks Bros are still thriving??
ReplyDeleteThriving???
Delete