Sixteen-year old Henry Baldwin Hyde arrived in New York City
in 1850 from Boston. His father, Henry
H. Hyde was, according to The New York Times, “one of the most conspicuous and
successful life assurance men of his day.”
Young Henry Hyde began working for the Mutual Life Insurance Company of
New York in 1852 and seven years later the ambitious and audacious 25-year old
announced to Frederick S. Winston, President of the firm, that he had decided
to form his own life assurance company “organized along new lines.”
In March he resigned and on July 26, 1859 the Equitable Life
Assurance Society of the United States was incorporated. Hyde was described at the time as “tall in
statue and strong of limb. Handsome in
feature and singularly bright in expression.
His mouth was peculiarly expressive, but his eyes, which were dark and
gleamed from beneath heavy eyebrows, arrested instant attention. They were keen, alert, and it is scarcely a
figure of speech to say that they pierced like a sword. The young man impressed his individuality
upon the world around him, and the charm to persuade men, which is the
precursor of the power to direct them, already asserted itself in his daily
walk and conversation.”
On the Equitable Society’s first day of business on July 28
fourteen policies were written totaling $100,500. Despite the outbreak of the Civil War—or partly
because of it—the Equitable prospered.
The offices were enlarged several times and on December 16, 1865 the
Board of Directors discussed the construction of its own building. “That Mr. Hyde should have been willing to
advise this step at a time when the assets amounted to only $1,500,000 and the
income to only $971,000 illustrates the confidence with which he looked forward
to the future growth and prosperity of the society,” said The Times.
The plot of land at the southwest corner of Broadway and
Cedar Street was purchased in the fall of 1867.
The first architectural competition for a New York structure was held
but, as reported in the Real Estate and Builders’ Record, “A number of
architects and the board was unable to decide between the plans of Guilman
& Kendall and those submitted by George B. Post, then a young man.”
George B. Post had just emerged as an architect and a
compromise was formulated. The older
firm would be responsible for the
building’s design while Post was put in charge of the ironwork, vaults
and elevators.
Post’s would be a daunting task. The I-beam had recently been perfected by
Peter Cooper and at the time there were only five other
buildings in Manhattan that contained ironwork—Cooper Union, the Herald
Building, the Times Building, the Ball & Black store on Broadway and the
American Exchange Bank. A more formidable
challenge for Hyde and Post, however, was convincing the Board to install
new-fangled elevators. No building in
New York City had passenger elevators.
“Approval of this revolutionary innovation was not easy to
obtain,” said the Real Estate Record. “A
prominent real estate firm was asked to appraise the rents in such a building,
and when their report was read to the directors Mr. Post, who was present,
offered to take the topmost Broadway suite at the appraised rental. ‘No,’ declared Mr. Hyde, ‘you will take the
suite at twice that figure,’ to which Mr. Post agreed.”
Post’s confidence won over the Board and the Real Estate
Record and Guide noted that “they were the first commercial elevators used in
America.”
In the meantime, Edward H. Kendall and his staff worked on
the four-story design. Completed in the
fall of 1867 it was an explosion of French Second Empire grandeur. The rusticated basement and main floor
supported two stories of pilasters, cornices, and gently-arched openings. The four floor, where Post’s offices would
be, was an ornate mansard bursting with dormers and oculi, and crowned with
ornate cast iron cresting.
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| The original building was completed in 1867 -- Booth's History of New York (copyright expired) |
Inside the opulence continued. While other high-end buildings boasted
expensive woodwork of black walnut, mahogany or cherry; the Equitable Building
was outfitted in imported rosewood.
Including the land, the cost of the completed structure was a
jaw-dropping $1.5 million—about $23 million today.
Among the early tenants in the building was the Mercantile
Loan and Warehouse Company which took space early in 1870. In May that year The New York Times noted
that their “elegant offices” were being fitted up. “The safes, vaults and other appliances are
expected to be ready for occupancy about the 15th of June next. They are being built on a scale which for
extent, strength and security surpasses anything of a similar character in the
world.”
Three years later the Equitable Building was no longer
sufficient to house the firm and its growing list of would-be tenants. Despite the Financial Panic of 1873 that
crippled much of the nation, land was purchased on Broadway and in May 1874
construction began on an addition.
The original architectural firm was brought back. Theodore Weston later testified “that he was
architect of the Equitable building” although “preliminary plans were drawn by
Mr. Kendall.” Completed within the year,
the $1 million addition melded seamlessly with the original structure.
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| The addition doubled the size of the original building. sketch New York and its Institutions 1609-1873 (copyright expired) |
The Daily Mail, on May 1, 1875, commented on the speed of
the construction. “The activity of the
company in constructing a building of such size, entirely of stone, iron, and
brick, within so brief a period is unprecedented in architecture, but is only
the expression in a new department of that well-directed energy which has made
the Equitable Life Insurance Company what it is.”
The newspaper counted among the new tenants “many of our
richest corporations and leading lawyers” and said that all the higher floors
were already rented as were most of the rooms below.
“This is a great success in these dull times when many large buildings
are standing half empty.”
The Equitable continued its tradition of innovations with a
common Law Library for the use of its attorney tenants. The basement was occupied by the Safe Deposit
Company, the first floor was taken by the German American Bank, and the Equitable
Life Insurance Company had the entire second floor.
A high-profile tenant was the Weather Bureau whose local
forecaster maintained an “office” on the roof.
There a signal station and lighthouse used flags and colored lights to
warn ships of weather conditions like gales, blizzards and rainstorms. Air temperatures would be forecast from atop
the Equitable Building for decades.
Always in the forefront of innovation, the Equitable
Building made news again in November 1880 when the Exchange reported that “The
United States Electric Lighting Company have introduced their arc and incandescent
lights in the offices and vaults of the Mercantile Safe Deposit Company, in the
basement of the Equitable Building. This
is said to be the first practical use that has been made of the incandescent
mode of lighting, and is particularly interesting on that account.”
The newspaper made note at the same time that the firm “has
enlarged its premises, adding a reading-room containing the leading newspapers
of the world, a smoking-room, and largely increased accommodations in the way
of security boxes and rooms for the examination of securities.”
Such growth of the Equitable itself as well as its tenants
would soon tax even the enlarged structure.
In July 1885, when The New York Times noted that the building was “draped
with simplicity and good taste” mourning the death of General Grant; discussions
to enlarge once again were already underway.
On March 27, 1886 the newspaper reported that “the Equitable
Life Assurance Society has filed plans for a building supposed to be big enough
to accommodate a small army of professional men. This building will extend from the southern
side of the present structure to Pine-street…When it is finished the Equitable
Building will occupy the entire block on Broadway, between Liberty and Pine
streets.”
To enlarge the building once again, the Equitable Life
Assurance Society purchased and demolished the beloved Delmonico’s restaurant
and the Metropolitan Bank. By summer
construction had begun and soon the first of several tragedies occurred.
On August 7 around 11:00 in the morning a huge block of
granite was being hoisted to the third floor by a large derrick. “John Dallas,
a Scotchman, and brother of Foreman Dallas, stood on the block to steady
it. The big derrick creaked and the
stout rope stretched as the mass of stone rose in the air,” reported The New
York Times.
As the rope scraped the building's metal ornamentation it frayed. “The stone was swaying when
the strands separated,” said The Times, “It crashed against the building,
knocked a hole in it, and plunged downward with frightful velocity.” John Dallas was still on the block as it
fell.
The man hit the ground on his back. He looked up at the foreman and said “Good-bye,
brother—good-bye, wife,” and fell unconscious.
An hour later at Chambers Street Hospital he died.
Six months later another disaster would occur. At 10:50 a.m. on January 15, 1887, a scaffolding
inside the building on the third floor collapsed “with a crash that was heard
and felt in remote parts of the great building” said The Times. Three men were pulled from the debris heap—35-year
old electrician Dan Ford; 25-year old construction worker John Callaghan; and
plumber Alexander Phillips who was just 17 years old.
When the doctor arrived, Callaghan was bleeding heavily from
a head wound. Phillips, too, was injured
in the head; but “not apparently to any dangerous extent.” Dan Ford, however, was dead at the scene.
The electrician had apparently died immediately. He was married, with no children and his body
was taken to his home in the afternoon. “Nobody
at the building could be found who blamed anybody,” said The Times.
As the building neared completion in April the decorating firm
of Herter Brothers installed the largest mosaic in America within the arched
entrance on Broadway. Designed by artist
Francis Lathrop, the Greek-inspired grouping was composed of stone, marble and
glass tiles. The glass pieces were used
for the faces and were back-painted. The
innovative materials prompted a critic from The Times to say “Mr. Lathrop has
hit the mean very well between the rudeness of the Roman pavement mosaics,
together with those of later date preserved at Ravenna, and the modern demand
for greater care in the drawing.”
The completed, block-engulfing structure was opened on May
1, 1887, deemed by The New York Times as “the finest and one of the largest
commercial buildings in the world, as well as one of the most unique and
complete.”
While the façade carried on the twenty-year old original
design; the building now rose to eight stories—three of them disguised by the
hulking mansard. The main entrance was
on Broadway through a large arch. Inside
a 22-foot wide corridor led to the central court, “a novel and striking feature
of the building, as well as one which will prove of use to such as are
fortunate enough to be tenants in the building,” opined The Times.
The 100 foot by 44 foot courtyard was encircled by highly
polished, rose-colored marble pillars with capitals of white onyx. The pillars upheld the arched ceiling of
polished marble and “richly stained glass.”
The courtyard formed the base of a large interior air shaft that
provided light and ventilation to the offices above.
The first floor contained shops and offices for the
convenience of the tenants—a post office, newspaper store, stationery store,
railroad and theater ticket agent, telegraph office, etc. Off the courtyard were a restaurant and
barbershop and baths.
Above the Equitable Life Assurance offices were floors of 60
to 80 rooms or suites for tenants. As
before, the legal profession was pursued and The Times noted “Not only will
[the offices] be particularly desirable for an attorney’s office because of
their interiors, finished in quartered oak, and their roomy book shelves and
closets, but because the occupants will have the privilege of availing
themselves of the Equitable Law Library.”
By now the library held over 7,000 volumes, as well as English and
European court reports and digests, and all law periodicals “of consequence of
this country and Europe.” The Equitable
Law Library was considered at the time to be the most complete and valuable in the
country.
In January 1886 the building
presented New Yorkers with yet another innovation. The Café Savarin opened its doors--a French
restaurant which was established by the Paris-based Societe Anonyme de
Restaurants aux Etats Units. Deemed by
The Times as “unsurpassed in magnificence in any quarter of the globe,” it took
up the full eight floors of the Pine Street side of the building and cost more
than $1 million in furnishings.
The main restaurant, café and
serving room were on the ground floor.
The restaurant could accommodate 200 diners and was paneled in white
mahogany under a “richly decorated ceiling.”
The second floor held the ladies’ dining room “to which gentlemen are
not to be admitted unless accompanied by ladies,” warned The New York
Times. A full staff of “ladies’ maids”
was on hand in black dresses, white caps and aprons “to tender to the comfort
of lady patrons.” Also on this floor
were another café, grill room, and restaurant, all paneled in old oak; and a
reception room, library and private rooms in white mahogany.
The fifth and sixth floors were
dedicated to the Lawyer’s Club—a private restaurant conceived of by Henry Hyde
himself. The seventh floor contained
private dining rooms and the kitchen took up the top floor. The wine cellar, in the basement, was
supplied from the Café Voisin of Paris.
The glass and chinaware in the 8-story restaurant were valued at $50,000
and The Times assured “the silver and damask are in the most refined taste.”
1889 brought the Equitable
Building into the national spotlight more than once. On the morning of April 29 the new President,
Benjamin Harrison, received his welcome to New York here. The Times described the preparations for his
arrival.
“Outside and inside bunting
fluttered in artistic forms and boundless profusion.” Soldiers from several different detachments
lined the staircases on both sides of the hall.
“On the south staircase, velvet carpeted, the vested choir of Trinity
Church, sixty voices strong, was grouped…Behind the military were massed crowds
of ladies and gentlemen. No coign of
vantage was unoccupied. Ladies stood on
tables and clung to pillars at peril of their lives, bound to see a live
president, no matter what might happen.”
Harrison was welcomed in the
Lawyers Club taking elevators that were decked with roses, lilies, palms and
ferns. Then he was taken to the private
dining room; but before the banquet began the Equitable Building would get to
show off its novel and astonishing electric lights.
“Just before entering the hall the
guests passed up a dark stairway, and its brilliant beauty suddenly burst upon
them with all the added effect of striking contrast. Gen. Harrison, who entered first arm in arm
with Mr. Fish, uttered a cry of admiration, and the other guests also were enthusiastic. Electric lights blazing from twenty
chandeliers lighted up the room with dazzling brilliancy.”
On the tables, heaped with
flowers, were more lights. “Masses of
the most exquisite roses covered all the table but the spaces for the plates and
glasses. Among the roses were electric lights in pink globes. In the very centre of the table was a
spreading palm, from whose fronds orchids hung.
This, too, was hung with electric lights. If ever there was a fairy scene it was this,”
declared The Times.
The Lawyer’s Club and Savarin Café
were the center of attention later that year when the entire Pan-American
Conference stopped here for breakfast.
On March 31, 1890 a
ground-breaking event took place in the Lawyers’ Club when the American
Co-operative Building and Loan Association met.
General W. T. Sherman presided over the meeting of about 200 members
during which a phonograph recording of William E. Gladstone was played. Unable to attend the meeting, Gladstone had
his message to the assembly recorded on wax.
“The words of the message were distinctly heard by all present,” said a
newspaper. It was the precursor of today’s
teleconference. Later, a member made a
motion that “General Sherman be empowered to speak the thanks of the meeting
into a phonograph for reproduction to Mr. Gladstone.” The motion was approved.
After an illness of about a year,
Henry Hyde died on May 2, 1899. Two
years later a bronze statue of Hyde was placed in the entrance hall of the
Equitable Building. Sculpted by John
Quincy Adams Ward, its unveiling was a lavish affair and the large crowd that pushed
into the building included Senator Chauncey M. Depew, E. H. Harriman, Henry
Marquand, Jacob Schiff, John Jacob Astor, Levi P. Morton, August Belmont,
Adolph S. Ochs, Cornelius Bliss and C. Ledyard Blair to name only a few.
On July 1, 1908 the Equitable Life
Insurance Company announced its plans to build a 909-foot skyscraper to replace
its old headquarters. President Paul
Morton gave a statement that said “the plans for the new building to be erected
on the site of the present Equitable Building have been worked out by Daniel H.
Burnham & Co. of Chicago…It seems to be the consensus of opinion of those
in authority at the Equitable that the lot on which the present building stands
it too valuable to be without a modern structure.”
Although the architects had drawn
up the plans; nothing happened for the next four years. Then on January 9, 1912 the unthinkable occurred. A small fire began in the kitchen and
storeroom of the Savarin Café. William
Davis, the chief engineer of the building, felt that his crew could contain the
fire. The delay in reporting the blaze had
disastrous consequences.
The flames made their way into the
elevator shaft and quickly rose upward. By
the time firemen arrived flames were bursting through windows. In the bitterly cold January morning the
water from the fire hoses froze as quickly as it hit the granite façade. Within the hour six inches of ice covered
engines and trucks, hydrants and the pavement, hampering the work of the
firefighters.
Three men working in the Savarin escaped
onto the roof but fire ladders were too short to reach them. As the heat and flames closed in, the men
frantically lowered themselves over the roof’s edge. Firemen rushed to the building next door and
a “line-shooting gun” was used to fire a life line to the men. As one of the men tried to secure the heavy
cable rope to a steam funnel, a sheet of flame burst up from the floor below
and burned the rope to ashes.
As the men clung on desperately,
the roof collapsed and the flames and heat closed in. “They were seen to jump together, not into
the fire, but clear of the coping and down into ice-covered Cedar Street.” The three Italian immigrants were dead on the
frozen pavement when Father McGean, the Fire Chaplain found them.
In the meantime, William Giblin, President
of the Mercantile Safe Deposit Company, heard of the blaze and rushed to the scene. Despite objections by police, he barged into
the Cedar Street entrance. A watchman
accompanied him. The heavy steel door at
the entrance to the vaults was fitted with a spring lock. Giblin forgot to take his key out of the lock
and when the two entered, the door swung closed and locked behind them. For 15 minutes the two groped around in the
darkness, finally finding and entering the big vault. Outside a heavy safe crashed through the
floor from above. As the safe broke open
through the ceiling, air rushed in and the entire floor was soon a mass of flames. Giblin found the papers he was looking for
and opened the vault to find himself surrounded by smoke and flames. The watchman had disappeared and Giblin
closed himself back in the vault, trapped.
“He knew then that his life, too,
was only a matter of time, and he waited for that time,” said The New York
Times the following day.
Fire Chief William J. Walsh heard
that a well-dressed man and an aide had entered the building and initiated a
search with a group of firemen. Walsh was
on a staircase when the floor overhead fell down on him. When firefighters managed to bend the steel
bars of the basement windows enough to admit a man, Father McGean insisted on
going into the inferno. In the rubble of
the vaults they heard the plaintive cries of a man. “For God’s sake, save me.” It was Giblin.
In the end, nine men died in the
catastrophic fire that destroyed the magnificent Equitable Building. Below ground where Giblin had rushed in, $1
billion in securities were kept intact by the heavy vaults—making his foolhardy
entrance into the burning building, which cost Chief Walsh his life, entirely
pointless.
Lost in the ice-covered,
smoldering ruins were the magnificent mosaic mural of Francis Lathrop, the
bronze statue of Hyde by Ward, the incomparable Law Library, and the exquisite interior decorations of
stained glass, marble and rosewood.
When the heap of charred granite
was trucked away, the soaring new 38-story Equitable Building already planned
arose. The 1915 engineering marvel
survives today.
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| Chicago-based architect Daniel Burnham designed the new Equitable Building. He was already responsible for a New York City landmark, the Fuller Building, better known as the Flatiron Building, completed in 1902. |
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