The Lost Temple Beth-El - Fifth Avenue and 76th Street

 

The vacant lot in the foreground would become the site of the Edward S. Harkness mansion in 1906.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

On September 12, 1873 the magnificent Victorian Gothic synagogue of Congregation Anshe Chesed was on Lexington Avenue at 63rd Street was consecrated.  Only six months later the congregation merged with Temple Adath Jeshurun, resulting in Temple Beth-El.  Its rabbi, Dr. David Einhorn, was progressive, insisting that the reform movement was a step towards Jewish freedom.  He was succeeded in 1879 by the Rev. Dr. K. Kohler, who continued Einhorn's reforms, such as performing services in English and German rather than Hebrew.

Perhaps surprising to some, just 17 years after its synagogue was completed the congregation sought to move.  On June 7 the Record & Guide reported it "intends to build a new place of worship which will be one of the finest ecclesiastical buildings in the city."  

At the time of the article a site had not yet been chosen.  That changed three months later when the journal reported that the estate of Meldon C. Martin had sold the congregation six vacant lots at the southeast corner of 76th Street and Fifth Avenue.  The architectural firm of Brunner & Tryon filed plans early in October.

Construction was completed in the summer of 1891.  On September 19 The New York Times reported, "The cost of the site was $250,000, and the temple cost $350,000."  The total would be equal to about $17.4 million today.

Brunner & Tryon had produced a hulking Romanesque Revival structure with Byzantine and Moorish influences.  Faced in rough cut Indiana limestone, it was 102 feet wide along the avenue and stretched back 160 feet on 76th Street.  The entrance, above a wide flight of stairs, consisted of an arcade of bronze doors below a smaller, blind arcade.  They sat within a single large arch. 

The structure's most striking feature was the massive dome, 51-feet in diameter at its base and rising 140 feet.  Constructed of copper-covered iron, it was ornamented with gilded copper tracery.

The 2,190-seat, amphitheater-shaped auditorium was dazzling.  There were two galleries on either side and two above the entrance.  The ceiling rose 70 feet, upheld by a marble colonnade.  Light streamed down from a stained glass section "1,200 feet in extent," according to The New York Times.  Above it was a clear glass skylight and within the space between were electric lamps that enabled the ceiling to be illuminated at night.

The New York Times reported "The shrine at the eastern end is composed of columns of Mexican onyx, with gold capitals and bases supporting an onyx arch on which are the tables of the law framed in gold.  On each side are columns of Numidian marble, and the entire shrine rests on St. Beaume marble."

Behind the shrine was a semicircular wall of marble and gold mosaic.  Above a marble cornice a marble colonnade supported the half-domed ceiling.  Lighting was provided by 1,000 incandescent lamps.

The new temple, deemed by The New York Times as "one of the finest synagogues in this country," was dedicated on September 18, 1891 "with much ceremony."  The newspaper said 3,000 members took part in the service and "not less than two thousand others tried to gain admission, but were unable to, even though they held printed invitations."

photo by Wurtz Bros., from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The area in which Temple Beth-El sat quickly became the most exclusive residential neighborhood of Manhattan.  The increasing property value caused the congregation to consider moving again just a decade later.  The site was placed on the market in January 1902 with a shocking proposal.  The New-York Tribune explained, "The present temple of the congregation was built and opened in 1891, and, therefore, it is practically new.  It is one of the most valuable and most imposing houses of worship of its kind in this city.  It is said that it could be razed and then rebuilt in its present form for a sum considerably less than it would take to build a new temple."

The sale of the land, therefore, did not include the structure.   As ambitious as the plan was, it made financial sense.  The congregation placed a $1 million price tag on the lots, four times what it had paid a decade earlier.   Buyers were less enthusiastic, however, and while several offers came in, the best was $850,000 and they were all rejected.

The congregation, therefore, continued on in its sumptuous home.  The New-York Tribune called it "the house of worship for the wealthiest Jews in New York," on March 28, 1906.  A few years later, when the Government's Liberty Loan drive was initiated during World War I, Rev. Schulman directed the affluent members to open their wallets.  "It is the duty of every man and woman in the nation according to ability to uphold the hands of the Government by taking some share in this loan," he said.  "Not to enroll one's self in the army of those who are helping the Government with their funds, if one is at all able, is, in the innermost recesses of the heart, to be disloyal to it."

The congregation supported law enforcement by hosting annual Memorial Sunday services for the New York City policemen who had died in service throughout the previous year.  On January 7, 1917 500 policemen marched from the East 67th Street station to Temple Beth-El for the service.

With World War I raging, Memorial Sunday was slightly changed to honor policemen and letter carriers killed in military service.  In 1918 the policemen's memorial was moved to Trinity Church and Temple Beth-El held the service for the 34 letter carriers who had died.   It was preceded, as always, by a solemn march up Fifth Avenue by the uniformed letter carriers.

The congregation went further in its support of the troops a few months later.  On June 22, 1918, The Sun reported, "the Temple Beth-El at Fifth avenue and Seventy-sixth street, will be opened to-morrow night for the use of 250 soldiers and sailors who may be in the city on furlough.  Sleeping quarters will be given to the men in the synagogue, and in the morning coffee and rolls will be service to them."

The article had the figures slightly wrong.  There were, in fact, 200 beds in what those in charge called a "sleeping camp."  On the first night the beds were quickly filled and just before midnight two more soldiers arrived.  With no beds available, the men said they would sleep wherever there was room.  The Sun reported, "A bed was hastily improvised and the two late comers soon were in the land of dreams."

The following morning the soldiers and sailors declared the accommodations the "finest camp they were ever in."  Not only did they have a comfortable cot on which to sleep, but got a hot shower and breakfast of "cereal with milk, jam, rolls and butter, coffee and cream."  The Sun added, "Before going to bed on Saturday night the men were all treated to ice cream and cake."

The congregation's golden anniversary was celebrated in 1924.  A special sabbath morning service on Saturday, February 16 was followed by a dinner at the Hotel Biltmore attended by more than 1,000 members.  The New York Times reported that the jubilee was consummated  the following afternoon "with a pageant at the temple where the spirit of Judaism will be presented in six parts."

The March 1926 issue of The American Hebrew reported on rumors of "the proposed amalgamation of Temple Beth-El and Temple Emanu-El."  The article said that the plan "calls for the erection of a great house of worship on the [John Jacob] Astor site at Sixty-fifth Street and Fifth avenue big enough for both congregations."

Indeed, Temple Emanu-El had already taken deed to the massive double Astor mansion.  The merger was essentially assured and confirmation came on April 25, 1927 when a vote of the congregations approved it.  Confident, Temple Emanu-El had already sold its property at the time.

The combined congregations retained the name Temple Emanu-El.  It moved into the new structure--one of the largest synagogues in the world--in 1929.  Nevertheless, the congregation returned for one last service on the final night of Yom Kippur, on  October 13.  Afterward, said The New York Times, it will "take formal leave of that sanctuary."

A week earlier the Park Avenue Baptist Church congregation had held its first service in the synagogue.  Headed by the Rev. Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick, it leased the space while construction of the massive Riverside Church continued.  The New York Times noted on October 12, "The 'Eternal Light' burned all during the Baptist service last Sunday and will tomorrow morning.  After that it will be extinguished because the building will no longer be a synagogue."

Riverside Church was completed on October 5, 1930.  Within four months Congregation Emanu-El gave use of the old Temple Beth-El rent free to the congregation of the Community Church, "until the completion of the two units of buildings which the church will erect," according to The New York Times on February 14, 1931.

A 1905 postcard shows the green patina that had formed on the copper dome.

The building would once again house a Jewish congregation after an arsonist set fire to the West End Synagogue in March 1937.  Harry N. Wessel, president of the congregation, told reporters, "Almost every temple in the city has offered us a place in which to worship pending the repairing of our synagogue.  We selected the Temple Beth-El because it is not occupied at the present time and we would, therefore, cause as little inconvenience as possible."

On August 15, 1945 The New York Times reported that the Congregation Emanu-El had agreed to sell the property to builder Samuel Rudin as the site of a "large apartment house."  He paid $425,000 for the property (about $6 million today).

The newspaper followed up on April 29, 1947 saying, "The Romanesque edifice, once regarded as one of the finest synagogues in this country, now resembles a bombed-out building.  Its floors are covered with rubble; only the slender steel frame remains of the roof."   The article noted, "Unimpressed by the beauty of the temple, Abe Klotz, in charge of the demolition, commented, 'Its' a routine job.'"

photo via luxuryrentalsmanhattan.com

The magnificent structure was replaced by the 18-story Emery Roth & Sons-designed apartment building which survives.

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The 1897 Rawitser Building - 380-384 Canal Street

As the 19th century drew to a close, the architectural firm of Brunner & Tryon was busy designing commercial structures throughout the city.  On August 20, 1897 they filed plans for a six-story "brick store and loft" at the southeast corner of Canal Street and West Broadway.  The description gave little hint of the striking structure to come.

Developers S. & H. Rawitser may been somewhat cost conscious, for the Rawitser Building would be almost entirely clad in brick--a cheaper alternative to stone.  Nevertheless, the large structure, which occupies a 75 x 100 foot lot, cost $100,000 to construct, more than $3 million today.

Brunner & Tryon chamfered the corner, allowing for a prominent storefront entrance crowned with a round opening surrounded by exuberant carvings.  Three identical entrances were interspersed along West Broadway on and another on Canal Street.   Cast iron show windows between the banded limestone piers of the ground floor flooded the retail space with natural light.

The upper floors, divided into three sections by prominent cornices, were faced in buff brick which mimicked the banded stone of the ground floor.  The fifth and sixth floors exploded in Beaux Arts gusto with frothy carved decorations.  Arched pediments interrupted the straight line of the fifth floor cornice, which dripped lions' heads, blind roundels, and flowers down the facade.   The round windows above the entrances were mimicked at the sixth floor, uniting the overall design.

Horse-drawn vehicles fill the streets in front of the newly-completed building. Architectural League Catalogue, 1898 (copyright expired)  

The building filled with a surprising array of tenants, including window shade manufacturer Richard J. Cullen, here in 1899.  His advertisements suggested his shade for use by builders and architects for "estates, hotels, apartment houses and office buildings."

Before the turn of the century, The International Arithmachine Co. of Chicago opened its New York office in the building.  The firm manufactured a single, astounding product--an early example of the hand-held calculator.  The company would remain in the building at least through 1903.

from Meyer Brothers Druggist magazine, December 1900 (copyright expired)

The early years of the 20th century saw, among other tenants, an influx of high-end pen manufacturers and sellers.  George W. Heath & Co. advertised its Masonic-themed pen in 1907.  Customers could order "emblems of all the leading fraternal societies," which were "a beautiful combination of gold and enamel."  The pricey pens retailed for $4--about $110 today.

Other tenants, too, dealt with gold and gems.  S. L. Van Wezel employed 61 men in his diamond cutting establishment in 1913.  At the same time Isidore Kottle, whose shop turned out gold and silver umbrella and cane handles, had 20 men and one boy on its payroll.

State factory inspectors recorded that Van Wezel's huge workforce worked 62 hours per week in 1913.  advertisement from The Sun, May 16, 1915 (copyright expired)

In 1916 two more pen makers moved in, the Liberty Pen Co., and the Commercial Pen Manufacturing Company.  Century metals Products Company took the top floor that year as well.

A far different sort of company was J. P. Gorman Co., which marketed its E-Z-Way "demountable wheel sets" for Ford motorcar owners in 1918.  A replacement for the standard Ford wheels, they were touted as much easier to change.  The Motor Age commented on the invention on September 5 and noted the set included "four complete wheel changes with inside flanges, extra Ford wheel, spare wheel carrier and socket wrench."

The Automobile Trade Directory, 1918 (copyright expired)

Making expensive pens required an inventory of  gold and silver, a tantalizing cache for thieves.  Late on the night of November 29, 1920 burglars climbed the rear fire escape and broke into the Liberty Fountain and Pen Company.  The Evening World dipped into the jargon of hoodlums to describe the crime.

"In a room near the office in front of the building they drilled the big safe, put in the 'soup,' lugging a heavy filing cabinet from the offices and using it as a 'blanket' to deaden the noise and force of the explosion.  The explosion, however, did not do the full job and the burglars were compelled to drill a bigger hole and finally tear the door off with a 'drag.'"

Ignoring the silver and the cash in the safe, the crooks loaded $1,800 in gold bullion into their bags.  They were unable to crack the "burglar-proof receptacle" within the safe, despite numerous attempts.  "This receptacle contained $6,800 worth of gold, used in the manufacture of pens," said The Evening World on December 2.  Nonetheless, the heist netted the robbers about $22,000 worth of bullion in today's dollars.

The diverse tenant list was exemplified by the Parr-Loichot Engine Corp., whose offices were in the building at the same time.  The firm dealt in motor boat engines--about as different from gold fountain pens as a product could be.

By the early 1940s Henry C. Roberts had opened Roberts Art Gallery and bookstore on the ground floor.  Far south of the established gallery district of Fifth and Madison Avenues, it presaged the numerous galleries that would engulf the Tribeca district half a century later.

In October 1946 Roberts opened a permanent display of modern American art that included promising amateurs.  The New York Times reported on October 12 it encompassed "the remaining paintings of the Federal Art Projects; wood sculpture by Nicholas Mocharniuk; American genre paintings by Harry Roseland; original drawings of GI art, from Yank Magazine, and water-colors by Carl Benton Compton."

About two decades earlier Roberts had stumbled across a bust of Abraham Lincoln in a Salvation Army storeroom.  He paid $5 for the piece, and then began studying the president and collecting Linconiana.  As it turned out, the bust was the first ever made of Lincoln, executed by Leonard W. Volk in 1860 from several live sittings.

In 1860 Volk posed with his unfinished bust.  original source unkown

Roberts added to his collection with an 1849 campaign photograph.  An inscription on the back said it was presented to Lincoln by Pole Lewis on November 6, 1860, the day he was elected to the presidency.  Roberts purchased it following the owner's death in 1937 for $20.

On July 28, 1947 Roberts put his entire Lincoln collection on display in the gallery.  Along with the exceedingly rare bust and photograph was a copy of Lincoln's death mask; a plaster cast of his right hand, made before his presidency; and engravings and lithographs created during his term in office.

The New York Times wrote an article about the opening of the exhibition, giving special attention to the bust and printing a photograph of it.  It drew nation-wide attention, especially since Roberts mentioned in the article that he would eventually like to donate the collection to a national institution.

Letters from across the country arrived at the Canal Street gallery and bookstore.  Then, in February 1949. one arrived from Frank T. Gartside, assistant superintendent of the National Park Service.  In it he said his department "would be happy to receive the bust to be placed in the Lincoln Museum housed in the Ford Theatre."  It was the sort of place Roberts had envisioned for the item and he donated it--valued at about $50,000 at the time--to the museum.

The colorful Henry C. Roberts was interested as well in other-worldly things.  He sometimes gave lectures on the 16th century seer Nostradamus and once explained "My aim in life is to help people help themselves by developing their psychic powers.  I've got extra-sensory perception developed to a very high degree.  I found these powers through studying Nostradamus.  Some people say I am Nostradamus Redivivus, which means Nostradamus revived."  In 1947 he published The Complete Prophecies of Nostradamus.

Roberts's unusual personality drew a reporter from The Times to his shop in 1949.  He commented "in the dimmest corner of an age-haunted room Mr. Roberts sat at a battered desk, doddling with a quill pen.  The grudging glow of a brass lamp picked out a bronze skull on the desk."

Roberts pointed to a hanging planter of ivy and said "I can look at that bowl and see things."  His wife was less impressed than was the reporter.  "See if you see a steak.  You didn't eat all day," she retorted.

In 1951 Roberts announced he would be retiring.  The New York Times commented "The rambling place was a sort of combination bookstore and curiosity shop.  Its proprietor himself sometimes seemed uncertain of all it contained."  No doubt the most interesting character to lease space in the building's history, Roberts died in the Veterans Administration Hospital in Brooklyn on January 24, 1966 at the age of 76.

In 1980 the space where Roberts had operated his gallery and bookstore was transformed into a restaurant-bar.  For a decade it was home to Smoke Stacks Lightnin' bar which Moira Hodgson of The New York Times called "a restful place for a late-afternoon drink" in 1981.  She added "It is popular among artists who can no longer afford to live in SoHo and have moved down to TriBeCa."

In 1990 the space became Tsubaki House, a jazz-oriented cabaret.  Today the entire ground floor is vacant, a condition that could cause locals and preservationists trepidation.

Because the Rawitser Building sits outside the Tribeca Historic District, its intact facade--including the amazingly surviving storefront level--is unprotected.  Owners or tenants have no restrictions on altering the building and potentially vandalizing Brunner & Tryon's striking 1897 building.

photographs by the author

The Edwin R. A. Seligman House - No. 324 West 86th St.

In January 1897, the architectural firm of Brunner & Tryon filed plans for a "four-story brick dwelling" for Edwin and Caroline Seligman at 342 West 86th Street.  The 25-foot-wide residence would cost the couple $20,000 to erect.  The prim four-story neo-Renaissance design of beige brick and stone was a restrained exception to the often more fanciful architecture of Upper West Side rowhouses.  But its proper demeanor was the perfect setting for its decidedly academic owner, Edwin Robert Anderson Seligman.

One of nine children born to millionaire bank and businessman Joseph Seligman, he had graduated from Columbia University in 1879, then studied throughout Europe--at the universities of Berlin, Geneva, Paris and Heidelberg.  He married Caroline Beer in 1888 and the couple would have three daughters and one son.

Seligman was appointed Professor of Political Economy and Finance at Columbia in 1891.  Among America's foremost minds in matters of economics, he was editor of the Political Science Quarterly, and wrote authoritative books including Essays in Taxation, The Shifting and Incidence of Taxation, Progressive Taxation, and Railway Tariffs.

The Seligman house was rarely the scene of glittering entertainments.  It was more often the scene of serious discussion.  Seligman was the president of the Tenement House Building Co. and chairman of the committee on education of the Educational Alliance.  His interests were not totally dry and academic, however.  He was also a member of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the American School of Classical Studies at Rome, and the American Historical Society.

The Seligman children were raised in an atmosphere of privilege and sophistication.   Violet, who was born in 1900, went off to the exclusive Bryn Mawr women's college in the fall of 1917--the same year that a measles epidemic broke out nationwide.   Considered more of an annoyance today, measles was a dangerous disease, often worsening to broncho- or lobar-pneumonia.   That year the United State Army alone reported 47,573 cases among its troops; and 947 patients across the U.S. died.

In March 1918 Violet contracted the measles, which then complicated into pneumonia.  The 18-year old freshman died at the college in April.    

Afterward, life in the Seligman home was happily without incident until January 27, 1926.  Edwin had been ill for a few days, so he was resting in his bedroom that evening while Caroline and their youngest daughter had dinner.  Afterward, at around 7:30, Caroline went up to her bedroom "to prepare a table with gifts for her daughter's birthday celebration" which was the next day.

Among the gifts she went to gather up was a pricey pearl necklace.  When she opened her bureau drawer, she was panicked to see the necklace was gone.  She told investigators "Then I noticed that the bathroom widow was open, and I realized what had happened."

What had happened was that a gutsy burglar had climbed onto the roof of Edwin's study, which projected out in the rear, then pushed the bathroom window open and slipped in.  With Edwin in the bedroom next door, he rifled through Caroline's drawers, taking away her jewelry box with approximately $8,000 of jewelry (about $107,000 today), Edwin's watch, cash, and bank notes.

The Seligmans sold their home of nearly four decades to The New York Psychoanalytic Institute in the early 1930s.  For the academic year of 1933-34, the facility offered courses such as Psychoanalysis and Social Work, Psychoanalysis and the Law, and Psychoanalysis in Medicine.

The former Seligman house would never again be a residence.  In the mid-1940s it became home to the Young Men's Philanthropic League, headed by Jack Wasserman.  The group would remain here until moving to 18th Street in 1955.

Its continued use by various institutions had saved the structure from being replaced by the looming modern apartment buildings that now lined the block.  In the fall of 1976 a radically different group took over the house, the Siddha Yoga Dham of New York.

New York Magazine explained on March 28, 1977, "Siddha Yoga attempts to awaken the dormant kundalini (divine energy) in disciples through the grade of the Siddha guru."   The guru on West 86th Street was Baba Muktanda, described in the article as "the most charismatic, compelling guru to grace the West with his prescience."

Today the Siddha Ashram continues to operated here, part of the Syda Foundation.  In their 2000 book Spiritual Places In and Around New York City, authors Len Belzer and Emily Squires said "Over the years, we have visited the Siddha Ashram on West 86th Street where enthusiastic followers sang out chants, spoke of their beliefs, and meditated together, all in heavenly rooms with carpeted floors, flickering candles, and worshipful pictures of the Siddha lineage."

Very little has outwardly changed to No. 324 West 86th Street.  Only a discreet metal plaque near the stoop announces the presence of the Siddha Ashram.  The Seligman house is one of the two surviving mansions among the row of apartments.

photograph by the author