The Henry Heide Co. Bldg - 14-16 Harrison Street

Born in Germany in 1846, Henry Heide immigrated to America at the age of 20, just after the end of the Civil War.  After briefly running a grocery store he found his true calling--making candy.  In 1868 he founded the Henry Heide Candy Company.  The firm obtained a patent in 1875 for a "new and improved preserve composition for macaroons."  Heide's almond paste would be touted as "the finest article ever invented for maccaroons [sic] and general baking purposes" by Illustrated New York in 1888.

Henry Heide in his later, prosperous years.  from the collection of the Science History Institute

On April 29, 1881 Heide purchased the two wooden houses at Nos. 14 and 16 Harrison Street from Aymar Embury.  He paid $15,500 for the properties--about $380,000 today.  Six months later, on October 29, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that architect George Da Cunha "is at work on plans for a stone building to be built in Harrison street, between Hudson and Greenwich streets, for Henry Heide.  It will be of brick with stone trimmings, 40x100, and will cost $30,000."  The total cost of the project now amounted to what today would equal about $1.15 million.

Completed the following year, Da Cunha's candy factory was a handsome blend of neo-Grec and Queen Anne styles.  The first floor, above a raised loading dock, was faced in cast iron.  Here architectural details, like the pyramidal caps of the end piers, mimicked those of the upper cornice.  The windows of the second through fourth floors wore neo-Grec lintels supported on stepped brick corbels.   At the fifth floor the arched openings sat below projecting brick eyebrows.  The Queen Anne style stepped in with triangular, dog-tooth spandral panels below a honeycomb frieze formed by recessed bricks.  Above the cast metal cornice was a triangular pediment.

After more than 135 years, Henry Heide's painted announcement "Almond Paste" survives above the loading dock.

The firm's success and growth prompted Heide to lease No. 18 Harrison Street in the spring of 1886.  Architect Thomas R. Jackson was hired to connect the buildings internally.

Two years later Illustrated New York described the combined premises as "divided into manufacturing and sales departments, equipped with every modern appliance for rapid and successful production and perfect in convenience of arrangement for inspection and sale."  By now, said the writer, Henry Heide Candy was "One of the most prominent and best known houses in this line of industry in New York."  

The firm's astounding growth was evidenced in the comment "Mr. Heide has a new building in course of erection, which will connect the rear of this building through to Franklin Street, and which will be six stories high."  When completed, the candy factory was an unlikely pasting together of three separate buildings.  And then in 1891 Heide added yet another property, the adjoining Nos. 181-183 Franklin Street.  The four joined buildings comprised about 50,000 square feet.

Artistic brickwork was used to create the details of the upper floors.  

At the time Heide's bookkeeper was a young German man, Otto Kuhn.  In the days when many transactions were conducted in cash, his was a highly responsible position.  In February 1891 he approached Heide and asked "if he could be spared for a few months to take a flying trip to Europe," according to The Evening World.  (The term "flying trip" referred to its short length and had nothing to do with the yet-to-be-invented airplane.)

The 27-year-old married man may have initially intended to skip town to avoid prosecution.  The Evening World reported that not long after his departure Heide "discovered that money was missing, and an investigation of Kuhn's books, it is alleged, revealed a shortage of about $1,000."  It was a significant amount, equal to about $28,500 today.

If Kuhn had intended to remain in Europe, he changed his mind.  Detectives learned that he was aboard the White Star steamship the Britannic headed to New York and on April 10 were at the dock to meet it.  "Kuhn admitted that he had stolen the $1,000," reported The Evening World, "and squandered it in gambling houses and high living."

More serious troubles came in the form of another German-born employee, candy packer Charles Miller.   After the night watchman, August Loeffler reported that the 25-year-old Miller was a loafer, he was fired "for neglect of duty."  Enraged, Miller was bent on revenge.

On the afternoon of April 18, 1894 he sneaked into the factory and hid in the cellar.  Miller silently waited until the employees had gone home and night fell.  About 1:00 a.m. he attacked.

The following morning, according to The Sun, "the body of the night watchman was found in the basement of the factory.  His skull was crushed in, and several ribs were broken."  The cash drawer had been emptied of $17.

Charles Miller had been in the United States eight years when the murder was committed.  The Sun, August 10, 1894 (copyright expired)

Miller may have gotten away with the murder had he not remained in the vicinity.  The Sun said "he was seen hanging about the neighborhood of the factory.  Some one noticed blood on his clothes, and remembered that he had been discharged on account of the watchman's report three weeks before."  He was arrested on suspicion and confessed at Police Headquarters.

Police released a chilling description of the crime.  "Miller lay in wait for his victim and hit him on the head with a heavy hammer.  Then maddened by the sigh of blood, he had jumped on the body, breaking the ribs."

The story of Charles Miller ended in even more violence and tragedy.  After occupying cell 67 in The Tombs prison four months, he was found by a jail keeper on the morning of August 9 with his throat slashed by a razor.  Miller was still alive and taken unconscious to Bellevue Hospital.  Surgeons valiantly attempted to save his live, but he died there within a few hours.  How he obtained the razor to commit his gory suicide was never discovered.

Almost unbelievably, the Henry Heide Candy Co. had again outgrown its immense factory building.  Now, in 1895, Heide obtained the real estate at the corner of Hudson and Vandam Street and began construction of a cutting-edge structure.  When completed the factory had a daily capacity of 250,000 pounds of confectionery products.  (As an interesting side note, in the first half of the 20th century the Henry Heide company would introduce the gummy candies Jujyfruits and Jujubes, a staple for movie goers for decades.)

Henry Heide retained ownership of the four buildings on Harrison and Franklin Streets, and after the candy company moved out they were separated.  Nos. 14-16 was leased to Edward D. Depew & Co., wholesale grocers.  

Edward Depew advertised on a jutting sign at the front and a painted ad on the western elevation.  Note the now-lost pediment.  New York, the Metropolis, 1902 (copyright expired)

The residency of Edward D. Depew & Co. was relatively short-lived.  On December 30, 1908 the New York Produce Review and American Creamery reported "The Harrison Street Cold Storage Company has secured a twelve years lease on the six story and basement brick buildings at 14 and 16 Harrison street."  The article said the structure "will be entirely refitted for modern cold storage...The new plant will be insulated with cork board from the Armstrong Cork Company of Pittsburg."  The Harrison Street block was developing into what would be called the "butter and egg district" and the journal commented that the building would be "carrying butter and eggs."

Henry Heide hired architect Nelson K. Vanderbeck to upgrade the building for his tenant in the spring of 1911.  Vanderbeck's plans called for "cast-iron columns in 6-sty refrigerating warehouse."  

Five years later, in July 1916, Heide liquidated all of his Franklin Street and Harrison Street properties, selling them to the Red Diamond Realty Corporation.  The new landlords leased the building to the Merchants Refrigerating Co.  

In 1918 to The New York Butter Packing Co. rented space from that firm.  The New York Produce Review and American Creamery explained that The New York Butter Packing Co. would "receive, store and deliver butter and eggs" from the address.  It was a depot of sorts for the firm, its large packing and shipping plant being located at Newcomerstown, Ohio.

Two years later the New York Butter Packing Co. merged with C. F. Bullard's Cudahy Packing Co. to form C. F. Bullard & Co.  The American Produce Review reported that its offices would be at No. 171 Duane Street, and it would use the Harrison Street building as its warehouse.  "The new concern will handle butter, cheese and eggs."

As mid-century approached the J. S. Hoffman Company, cheese merchants, leased the building.  On May 7, 1945 The New York Sun reported that the firm had purchased the building, along with the two structures at Nos. 179 through 183 Franklin Street.  And once again the structures were internally connected.  The deal amounted to $1.75 million in today's dollars.

By the last quarter of the 20th century artists were displacing cheese, egg and butter dealers in the block's vintage loft buildings.  The former Henry Heide Candy factory was converted to "joint living/work quarters for artists."  There was one residence per floor through fourth story, with a duplex above.  It may have been around this time that the pediment was removed.

The duplex became home to a celebrated occupant.  In 1977 playright Edward Albee purchased the space, filling it with modern art masterpieces by the likes of Chagall and Kandinsky, as well as a collection of African art.   

Albee posed in the Harrison Street duplex for The New York Times.  photo by Sara Krulwich, The New York Times, June 16, 1991

The long wooden dining room table, where Albee reportedly wrote portions of his plays, was the scene of script readings, and the vast open space saw rehearsals.  Once a year Albee threw his anticipated Christmas party attended by stage and screen royalty like Marlene Deitrich, Kathleen Turner and Lauren Bacall.  Albee's summer estate was in Montauk, Long Island.

The Harrison Street duplex was for decades the home of one of America's greatest playwrights.  photos via Douglas Elliman Real Estate 

Edward Albee died on September 16, 2016, having won three Pulitzer Prizes for Drama and two Tony Awards for  Best Play.  Among his best-known works were The Zoo Story, The Sandbox, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, and A Delicate Balance.  

Albee's 4,515 square foot duplex was recently placed on the market for $7.5 million.  In the meantime, the former candy factory is little changed--other than the lost pediment--including the permanent awning over the loading dock.

photographs by the author
many thanks to Douglas Elliman agent Tom Titone for showing me around the Albee apartment 

The Gramercy - 34 Gramercy Park

In 1831 the city of New York was spreading slowly northward toward the former country estates of James Duane and Robert Murray.  Samuel B. Ruggles recognized the potential of the farmland in its eventual path.  Earlier in the century Trinity Church had developed St. John's Park--an exclusive residential enclave of brick-faced mansions girding a private, fenced park.  An advocate of open spaces, Ruggles envisioned a similar development.

He purchased swampy land from James Duane's Gramercy farm (the name "Gramercy" was a corruption of Dutch words meaning roughly "crooked swamp") then spent an additional $180,000--nearly $5.4 million today--to drain the land and haul away cart load after cart load of earth.  Gramercy Square was laid out--66 plots surrounding the central park.  (After Ruggles successfully helped lobby the State to open Irving Place to the south and Lexington Avenue to the north that number dropped to 60.)  In 1832 he obtained tax exempt status for the park and a year later he surrounded it with a heavy cast iron fence. 

By the mid-1840's mansions had begun rising on three sides of the enclave.  But the eastern side would be different.  Around 1854 massive Gramercy Park House hotel was opened, hosting wealthy travelers.  Miller's Strangers' Guide to New York City in 1866 called it "of colossal proportions...facing the delightful shrubbery of a beautiful inclosure called Gramercy Park."

The Gramercy-Park House engulfed the southern half of the block between 20th and 21st Streets facing the park.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Following the demolition of the hotel, Charles A. Gerlach joined with Judge William H. Arnoux, Haley Fiske and William Duncan Phyfe to lay plans for a ground-breaking residential scheme--a cooperative apartment house.  The concept of multi-family living was viewed with suspicion--and in some cases contempt--among moneyed families at the time.  So the group's idea would be a challenge.

They chose New Jersey-based architect George W. DaCunha to design The Gramercy.  Completed in 1883 in the currently popular Queen Anne style, DaCunha embellished the brownstone and red brick exterior with elaborate carvings, polished granite columns, and opulent terra cotta bands.  The building rose to a riot of towers, pediments and a slate tiled mansard.   Potential residents would be wooed by costly materials--a profusion of stained glass, mahogany finishes, and heavy leaded and beveled glass doors.  Three hydraulic Otis elevators (two for service use and one for passengers) were on the cutting edge of technology and convenience.  DaCunha designed the lobby to resemble a reception hall of a private mansion.

original source unknown

As would become common in high-end apartment houses, there was a restaurant, this one operated by society restaurateur Louis Sherry.  It was intended for residents only and located on the eighth floor.  Those wishing not to eat in the dining room could have meals delivered to their apartments.  (That venture did not work and closed about a year later.)

Above the cornice of the portico two brawny lions flank the weather-worn parapet.

Charles A. Gerlach was pleased enough with the results to move into his building.  On November 17, 1883 he explained the concept to The Record & Guide.  "There are ten stories in the building, and of them six were sold to the present stockholders, leaving four stories--two upper and two lower--which are never to be sold, but are rented for the benefit of those owning the other six stories  This guarantees to each stockholder and income sufficient to pay all the running expenses, as well as a small cash dividend."

And the plan was paying off.  Gerlach said "Apartments in the 'Gramercy' that sold this last August for $13,000 have since been sold for $25,000 each."  Rental units went for about $4,500 per year, or an astounding $58,000 per month today.  An advertisement in the New-York Tribune on August 12, 1884 described "Several desirable unfurnished suites for families in this superb new and strictly first-class building."

The building filled with socially-prominent families whose names routinely appeared in the Social Register and society columns.  Among the earliest were Charles L. Barstow, architect Charles I. Berg, J. Edgar Bull and his wife, the former Sarah Adams Williams, and J. L. Chapin.

Stained glass transoms and interior shutters survive on the southern side of the building.

Press coverage of The Gramercy's residents mostly had to do with their summer travels, receptions and weddings.  But Henry Wallace Cullen found himself in a less flattering spotlight in 1903.  On the night of July 21 he accompanied a friend, Charles Heaton, to cafe of the upscale Gilsey House hotel on Broadway.

That the two men were together at all was surprising.  The New-York Tribune wrote "Cullen is said to come of a good family.  He dresses well.  Heaton's appearance was not so good." 

Sitting at a table was Dr. Walter M. Fleming who had just been handed an envelope containing $200 owed to him.  The doctor's counting of the bills did not go unnoticed by Heaton, who approached his table.  The New-York Tribune reported "Heaton seized the envelope, it is alleged, and crunched it in his hand.  Dr. Fleming seized him, but says he did not recover his money.  He caught Heaton by the throat, jammed him up against the wall, and sized Cullen by the coat tails.  Then he called for help."

House detective Burke rushed in and hauled all three men to the police station.  The stark difference between the refined Cullen and his companion was further evidenced when Heaton was searched.  Along with some papers, he "also had some pawn tickets for clothing, believed to have been his own.  He had no money."  Cullen seems to have been totally stunned by the incident  "He did not know what became of the money, but said he had no hand in the affair and had no idea of stealing it."

A glimpse into the entrance foyer reveals exquisite encaustic floor tiles and a profusion of stained glass, including a skylight lit by the setback behind the portico's parapet.

Several of the tenants remained for decades.  Among these were the family of Dr. William Seaman Bainbridge, including his mother, Lucy Seaman Bainbridge.  The widow of the Rev Dr. William Folwell Bainbridge, she had already led a remarkable life.  In 1861 she became a war nurse, sharing her army tent with Clara Barton.  She later organized the Women's Department of the Brooklyn City Mission, was a staunch fighter for municipal sanitation (she once hired a boat to follow the garbage scows to prove they did not go far enough to sea for dumping), and was an organizer of the Women's Health Protective Association.

Her son was chief surgeon of the Brooklyn Naval Hospital and was recognized as "an eminent practitioner," according to the Tri-States Union in 1908 and a pioneer in cancer treatment.  He and his wife, the former June W. Wheeler, had a daughter, Barbara.

Bainbridge was summoned to the apartment of another resident, stock broker Henry G. Campbell, Jr., by a frantic servant on June 26, 1917.   His 40-year-old wife had been suffering depression due to continued ill health.  That day she had not come out of her bedroom, spending most of it lying on the bed.  The housekeeper left the apartment to get the afternoon papers, returning about a half hour later.

Entering the bedroom, she noticed blood on the pillow.  Fearing Mrs. Campbell was seriously ill, she called the butler who looked closer.  There was a bullet wound in Mrs. Campbell's right temple.  She was still barely alive as Bainbridge rushed to the scene.  The servants made "frantic efforts," according to The Sun, to reach her husband both at his office and his clubs, but it was not until he returned home for dinner that he learned of the incident.  "His wife was then breathing her last," said The Sun.  "When the news was broken to him Mr. Campbell collapsed."

In 1928 nothing had changed to the venerable structure.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

After Lucy Bainbridge died here on November 19, 1928, The Brooklyn Daily Eagle commented that women like she "do much to make the world brighter."  Her funeral was held in the apartment three days later.

DaCunha not only included expected foliate carvings into the design...

but faces of Native Americans as well.

In November 1934 Barbara Bainbridge was introduced to society at a tea-dance in the Louis Sherry Room at Sherry's.  The Bainbridges still lived in The Gramercy when she was married to Angus McIntosh in the sunken garden of the family's summer home, Maple Hill Farm, in Connecticut in September 1939.

Two of the initial occupants, the unmarried sisters Ina L. and Emma Cecilia Thursby, were long-term and colorful residents.  Emma was internationally famous as a concert and oratorio singer and toured internationally.  

Emma Thursby - from the collection of the Library of Congress

Interestingly, while Emma was fond of grand opera, because she was devoutly religious and started her singing career as a choir member of Plymouth Church in Brooklyn, she never sang on the operatic stage.  Her sister later explained the decision had been made on the advice of "religious friends" and "because of the public attitude toward the stage in those days."

By the first decade of the 20th century Emma had retired, but she and Ina entertained frequently.  The New York Times later remarked "In her home in Gramercy Park [Emma] held a salon which had an Old World charm about it.  In a spacious, low-ceilinged drawing room that was filled with art treasures, souvenirs, gifts from all over the world, Miss Thursby and her sister, Ina Thursby, received on Fridays.  At one end of this room hung a life-size portrait of Miss Thursby by George P A. Healy, an American painter."

This life-sized portrait of Emma Thursby hung in the women's drawing room.  collection of the New-York Historical Society

The Sun reported on one of those Friday events on February 28, 1914:

Miss Emma Thursby, at one time a famous soprano, gave a reception yesterday afternoon at her home, 34 Gramercy Park, for Miss Mary Garden of the Chicago Opera Company.  Miss Enid Watkins of San Francisco sang in costume chants of the American Indians.

The Thursby apartment was the scene of a "very pretty wedding," as described by The Brooklyn Daily Eagle on July 27, 1924.  The sisters' niece, Edith May Thursby, daughter of their brother Edwin Sherman Thursby, was married to C. John McNauley Pate in the drawing room.  The newspaper's report of the wedding hinted that the health of the 74-year-old Emma was waning.  "Only relatives attended the ceremony, which was celebrated very quietly, owing to the recent indisposition of Miss Emma Thursby."

After living in The Gramercy for nearly half a century, Emma Cecilia Thursby died in her apartment at the age of 86 on July 4, 1931.  Newspapers nationwide ran columns-long accounts of her life, and testimonials signed by famous composers like Charles Gounod, Victor Massé and Jules Massenet arrived at the apartment.

In 1937 Ina donated the Emma Cecilia Thursby Memorial Music Building to the Moravian Seminary and College for Women in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.  The New York Sun praised it on July 2 saying, "Probably none of the donations to colleges and universities that are being announced at this graduation season will mean more to the future of music in the United States than the building in memory of Emma Thursby, American singer."  

The article added "Miss Thursby resides in the apartment at 34 Gramercy Park to which she and her sister moved fifty-six years ago--the first tenants.  The spacious salon, where Emma Thursby sang, where later she taught Geraldine Farrar and other noted singers, is much the same today, with its grandfather's clock, its two fireplaces, with windows on three sides and the full-length portrait of the great singer...It overlooks Gramercy Park and the willow tree there, brought from Peter Cooper's farm and planted in honor of Emma Thursby.  To this salon came all the important musical personages of Emma Thursby's time--Nordica, Caruso, Edouard Grieg, Ole Bull, who accompanied her on her last tour, and the elder Damrosch, on Friday afternoons in January and February when she was in New York."

On March 28, 1958 fifty of the  building's residents attended a champagne party in the apartment of Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Garfield to celebrant The Gramercy's 75th anniversary.  In reporting on the festivities, The New York Times mentioned "Although many apartments have been altered--there are fifty--the three original elevators, operated by pulling a cable, are still being used.  The tenants today include doctors, lawyers, actors, editors and business executives."

The unnamed actors referred to in the article were James Cagney and Margaret Hamilton, best known for her role as the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz.  Hamilton initiated the yearly Halloween tradition of lining the hallways with carved and candle-lit pumpkins and baskets of candy and freshly-baked cookies for the children.  On at least one occasion in the 1960's, according to one former resident, Susan Tunick, in a letter to The New York Times, "Margaret Hamilton hung her Wicked Witch costume in the doorway and greeted the youngsters as they rang her bell."

The owners have taken great pains (and expense) to keep the structure in good condition.  In the summer of 1985 the sandstone was patched and repointed and the sheet metal cornice was cleaned and painted.  A less welcomed update came in 1994 when the co-op spent around $700,000 to finally replace the Otis hydraulic passenger elevator--the oldest operating example in the world, according to the Otis Company.

Other celebrities would call The Gramercy home.  Actor Jimmy Fallon bought an apartment in 2002, paying about $850,000 for a one-bedroom on the seventh floor (just under $1.2 million today).  Two years later, when his neighbor across the hall died, he purchased that unit as well, spending $1.5 million.  Fallon may have intended to connect the two, but if so he never got around to it.  

Instead he kept buying.  By 2015 he owned five apartments in the building and that year informed his motion picture star friend Richard Gere about another available apartment.    Gere purchased the two-bedroom, 1,113-square-foot apartment early in 2016, spending more than $2.5 million.

Touted widely as the oldest cooperative apartment building in the city, The Gramercy has lost none of its architectural charm in its 126-year existence.

photographs by the author

The 1882 Leggett Building - 126-128 Franklin Street

In 1858, 18-year old Francis H. Leggett found a job in his father's grocery business, R. L. Leggett & Co.  Six years later he was made a partner.  Then, in 1870 he struck out on his own, forming the wholesale grocery firm Francis H. Leggett & Co.  Within only 11 years his operation was one of the largest in the city with a branch office in Bordeaux, France.

On January 22, 1881 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that "Messrs. Francis H. Leggett & Co., wholesale grocers, have recently bought 89 feet by 80 on Franklin and Varick streets and West Broadway, for $100,000."  The cost of the property would equal more than $7.4 million today.  The article added "On this site they propose to have finished, by next summer, a magnificent building suitable for the requirements of their business."

On March 19 the journal reported "Mr. George W. Da Cunha, the architect, will break ground this week for a nine-story grocery for Messrs. Francis H. Leggett & Co.  The entire first story is to be of granite...Thence to the eight[h] story the fronts are to be faced with Philadelphia brick."  The sills, band courses, lintels and cornices would to be granite.  According to DaCunha's plans, the top floor would take the form of a mansard, faced in "rich dark red slate."

Completed in 1882, the building was a harmonious blend of Queen Anne and neo-Grec styles.  The understated lower floors relied on creative brickwork and angles to create interest,  The upper floors, however, exploded in a fantasy of arched openings, chunky brick corbels, and muscular pier decorations.  What was originally intended to be a mansard above the granite cornice emerged as a vertical story by a solid brick parapet.

The building, seen here from the Varick and Franklin Street corner, was originally about twice as wide as it is today  Permanent awnings sheltered the horse-drawn drays that loaded and unloaded merchandise.  King's Photographic Views of New York, 1895 (copyright expired)

The New-York Tribune later said "no mercantile house is more widely known, or more highly esteemed."  Included in the new building was a laboratory where three chemists insured, according to an advertisement, "the absolute integrity of every food material entering their products."

It would appear that Francis Leggett was a compassionate employer.  One of his salesmen, 69-year-old David M. Earl, fell ill with "bilious colic" on April 22, 1893 and went to the Chambers Street Hospital.   What ensued was what The New York Times described as "an unpleasant experience."

A "young man, who said he was not the doctor," administered medicine which made Earl ill, causing him to regurgitate.  In response, the hospital worker "abused him for such behavior."  Earl complained that "he was rudely hustled about, and nearly fainted with pain from the treatment he received."  Finally, he left the hospital when a doctor diagnosed him as a having too small a liver.

But his $150 watch and cash, which he left with the watchman when he checked himself in, were now missing.  When he heard of his salesman's plight, according to The Times, "Mr. Leggett was indignant at Mr. Earl's experience at the hospital and entered a complaint before the Visiting Committee of the New-York Hospital."  Nevertheless, Earl's money and watch were never recovered.

A few months after the incident Arthur G. Wainwright was hired as assistant cashier (a bookkeeper in today's jargon).   As the years passed he was deemed "strictly trustworthy" by the firm's management.  That is, until March 8, 1885 when his accounts were found $400 short.

When a supervisor asked him about the discrepancy, Wainwright opened the safe and showed him that the missing amount was there.  In fact, it wasn't.  On March 14 The New York Times reported "He was frightened then, and when a good chance came he took $2,000 from the cash drawer, borrowed another clerk's hat, and disappeared."  The cash would amount to $61,000 today.

The Times wrote "Nothing has since been heard of him, but he is supposed to have gone to Canada."  In fact, he went to Brooklyn.   Then, two weeks later The Sun reported "He returned yesterday just before closing time and gave himself up, saying that he had not spent the money and that his conscience would not allow him to keep it."  Wainwright's supervisor, Theodore F. Whitmarsh, summoned detectives who took the repentant embezzler to jail.

Wainwright's arrest was not the end of similar problems for the firm.  On November 18, 1901 The New York Times reported "Max Borchardt, forty-eight years old, was arrested at his home...[charged] with stealing $113.51 from the firm of Bradford [sic] H. Leggett & Co. of 128 Franklin Street, where he was employed."

Another highly regarded employee was arrested that year.  Bryan L. Rawson had worked for Leggett & Co. for a quarter of a century as a "credit man."  He was in line to be taken in as a partner, and The Evening World called him "their most trusted employee."  Rawson was earning the satisfying salary of $4,500 per year, or about $135,000 today.

But a check of his accounts showed he was short $35,000.  Rawson maintained his innocence, but resigned out of indignation.  Two years later an investigation revealed it was Max Borchardt--who had been convicted of stealing only $113.51--who had taken the money.  With his reputation severely bruise, Rawson now sued Francis Leggett & Co. and received an award of $35,000 on October 19, 1903.

Dishonest employees were, of course, the exception.  The others enjoyed perks like the company-sponsored baseball team.  On June 9, 1910 The Times reported that the Leggett team "will play on Saturday afternoons only, and will now entertain challengers from mercantile houses, preferably wholesale grocers."

The Evening World, December 8, 1911 (copyright expired)

Disaster for the impressive Francis H. Leggett & Co. building came not because of fire or explosion, but civic improvement.  In 1904 C. C. Hickok had begun a push to extend Seventh Avenue southward.  Finally, on June 21, 1913 The Record & Guide reported that the city would begin appropriating property "for the extension of the avenue from Greenwich avenue to Carmine street, for the widening of Varick street from Carmine to Franklin and for the extension of Varick street from Franklin to West Broadway."  Standing in the route of the Varick Street widening was more than half of the Leggett building.

Demolition was well underway on August 7, 1914.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

With much of its structure now gone, Leggett & Co. hired the esteemed architect C. P. H. Gilbert to erect a western wall.  The firm need not have gone to the top of the architectural heap in selecting its designer; for the resultant patch was a simple, brick wall.

Less than half of the Franklin Street elevation remained.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library

Losing half of its building meant that Francis H. Leggett & Co. could no longer function here.  Although it retained possession of the property, on March 14, 1914 the firm announced it would be moving.

Leggett leased its old headquarters to the Duval Company, a warehouse operation, in November 1917.  Three years later the Comet Warehouse Company signed a 10-year lease.

In June 1921 the aging building was sold at "liquidation sale" to Emma G. Shuttleworth.  She had a one-story extension, designed by architect Charles H. Richter, added on Varick Street in 1923.

The skinny extension was increased to two stories in 1934.

By 1931 the building was home to the All American Cable and Radio, Inc.  The Great Depression was dealing a significant blow to telegraph firms and on October 14 that year All American Cable joined other similar companies, like Western Union and the International Telephone and Telegraph Corporation in cutting its employees' wages.

All American Cable and Radio, Inc. participated in the WPA's World's Fair exhibition in 1939.  The Government defended the cost of the project, saying it provided jobs and showed taxpayers how their money was being spent.  All American Cable and Radio, Inc. set up its display in Communications Building.

The company was responsible for the sub-ocean cable service between the United States and the French island of Martinique.  Significant troubles were caused on July 21, 1940 when the cable ruptured, disrupting communications.  With no cable ships in the North Atlantic, it took the firm five months to correct the problem.

Before long a similar firm moved in, the Mackay Radio and Telegraph Company.  It was a foreshadowing of things to come.  In August 1945 the firm elected Forest L. Henderson its executive vice president.  The fact that he was already executive vice president and director of All American Cable and Radio, Inc. was, no doubt, not a coincidence.  Within five years the two firms were firmly affiliated.

The distinctive change in the Tribeca neighborhood made its appearance at the old Leggett Building in 1988 when the upper floors were converted to 22 residences.  The ground floor retail spaces would be home to stores and galleries--like the D. L. Cerney gallery on the West Broadway side in 2001--over the years.  Most of the busy locals who grab coffee or a sandwich at Gotan restaurant today have no idea that the handsome building is just a fraction of what it was in 1882

photographs by the author

George W. DaCunha's 1885 461-469 Greenwich Street

Seen here looking north from Debrosses Street, what appears to be one massive warehouse was a group of six loft structures.

Sitting on land owned by Trinity Church, the brick faced homes lining the eastern side of Greenwich Street between Debrosses and Watts Streets were the last word in elegant design.  Completed in 1820, three years later The Evening Post mentioned that they "are finished in a neat modern style, with circular front rooms."

Shortly after the end of the Civil War, however, wealthy families moved away after the Hudson River Railroad Company replaced the nearby St. John's Park with rail yards and a freight terminal.  By 1880 the house at No. 469 Greenwich Street was being used by Lawrence Bowe as a junk store.

Henry Welsh had entered the wholesale grocery business in 1859, later relocating to Franklin Street.  By 1872 when he leased the Greenwich Street block front from Trinity Church, he was focusing on real estate development.  His agreement demanded that he would erect a commercial structure at least four stories tall within two years.  He missed that deadline.  But on May 17, 1884  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the old buildings were being torn down and that Welsh "will erect six six-story and basement store buildings on Greenwich street, extending from Debrosses to Watts street, and including both corners."

Welsh had hired architect George W. DaCunha to design the buildings.  Extra care was taken to ensure they were as fireproof as possible.  "They will all have double floors with asbestos paper between," said The Guide.  The cost of the six structures was estimated at $180,000--more than $4.5 million in today's dollars.

The six buildings--pretending to be one--were completed the following year.  Faced in Philadelphia brick, DaCunha placed banded stone pilasters at street level which morphed into four-story brick piers in the middle section.  Stone and brick bandcourses relieved the visual weight of the massive building and in innovative brick corbel table introduced the cornice.

The masculine granite piers are adorned with delicate incised carvings.

Henry Welsh was his own tenant, moving his real estate business into No. 465.  A manufacturer of metal goods was doing business in No. 463 by summer 1885.  On June 23 it placed an advertisement seeking "solderers on lard pails."  Other early tenants were the New York Electrical Repair Co. in No. 465 and D. Buchner & Co., tobacco merchants, at 467.

By 1896 the New York Electrical Repair Co. had been renamed the A. U. Warren Electrical Repair Works and was the major tenant in No. 465, occupying the first, fourth, fifth and sixth floors and employing about 30 men.  The second floor was home to the California Distilling Works, which made "flavors" and employed just three men.  Also in the building was Plant Bros., makers of buckles.

The structure was filled with workers on the afternoon of August 11, 1896 when an explosion occurred on the first floor.   Despite George W. DaCunha's preventative measures, the fire quickly spread upwards.   By 3:00 the blaze had grown to a four-alarm inferno, spreading to No. 467, occupied by distillers, candy factories and an umbrella manufacturer.

The rapid spread of the fire cut off the escape of scores of workers.  The gruesome scene was repeated in newspapers nationwide.  The Salt Lake Herald, on August 12, reported "The firemen who first reached the scene of the conflagration say they saw a number of men at the windows appealing for help, but before any attempt at rescue could be made they fell back exhausted by the heat and smoke and all are supposed to have perished in the flames."

Other workers in nearby factories watched in horror.  "One young girl, it was said, was seen to approach one of the windows in the burning structure.  Before aid could reach her she had fallen back into the seething mass of flames waiting to swallow her up."  The Salt Lake Herald wrote "From stories told by those who claimed to have been near by when the first alarm was given faces were seen at nearly every window."

William Gray and James Muller, both workers of the Warren firm, made it to a fire escape, but were trapped and burned to death.  Their "charred bodies" remained there for hours while firefighters battled the blaze.  It took nine hours and ten minutes for 21 engine companies and 6 hook and ladder companies to get the fire under control.   Four workers were dead and at least nine others were severely burned, taken to the nearby Hudson Street Hospital.

The 1896 fire broke out in the section midway between Watts Street (closest in this shot) and Debrosses Street.

While repairing the more than $62,000 in damages Welsh combined the six buildings internally by installing "double iron doors."  The arrangement enabled him to lease to larger manufacturers.  The Crown Cordial and Extract Company took the first through fourth floors; Dexter-Frank Caramel Company leased the fifth; and cork manufacturer Alfred H. Frankel took the top floor.

But breaking through the party walls also reversed DaCunha's fire containment design.   On October 9, 1899 fire broke out on the fifth floor.  Although two alarms were sent in, this fire was quickly extinguished.  Nevertheless The New York Times said the building was "heavily damaged" and Fire Chief Edward F. Croker placed the loses at between $30,000 and $40,000--as much as $1.2 million today.

The newspaper reminded its readers "On Aug. 11, 1895, four persons were burned to death and many others permanently crippled in this building."

Both the Frankel and Dexter-Frank Caramel Company stayed on.  The employees in both firms endured long work hours.  In 1900 Dexter-Frank employed 20 men, 40 women, and two girls under 16 years old, each working between 54 and 57 hours per week.  A. H. Frankel employees (15 men and 18 women) worked 59 hours every week.

It appears that the internal doors were bricked closed again.  In 1901 a variety of firms leased space, all once again using the separate addresses.  Among them were the Acme Ball Bearing Castor Co. at No. 463.  The I. S. Van Loan Co. manufactured motors, dynamos, engines and boilers in No. 465 and had its offices in No. 465.  Also in 465 were the United States Candy Co., and the Eurkea Spring Co. and Henry Welsh's offices.

By 1906 Scrubb & Co. Ltd. was manufacturing its "delightful preparation" of mollient ammonia here.  The firm promised that it was "used by all the Royalties of Europe" and said it was not only refreshing when poured into one's bath, but that it "removes stains and grease spots from clothing, allays the irritation caused by mosquito bites, [is] unexcelled for cleansing the finger nails, restores the color to carpets, and cleans plate and jewelry."  The firm's advertisement insisted that the same product that could remove grease stains was "refreshing as a Turkish Bath" and was "So vivifying after Motoring and other sports."

The top two floors of No. 465 were occupied by the Eureka Extract Company and the New York Carbon Company at the time.  Both businesses were gutted by a fire that broke out on January 16, 1907.   The frigid weather made the job more difficult, prompting The New York Times to describe "With coats and hats coated with ice, firemen of eleven engine companies had a stubborn battle last night with flames which destroyed the upper floors of the building at 465 Greenwich Street."

One again the building was repaired and once again it was damaged by fire.  On May 18, 1914 a blaze erupted in No. 463 just after 11:00 at night.  The fire was not contained until 1:00 in the morning, by which time the building was gutted and Nos. 465 and 467 were heavily damaged.  One fire fighter died after falling from the roof.

Columbia Refinishing Company had moved into a loft at No. 465 in 1910 and its many solvents, varnishes and paints no doubt contributed to the suffocating fumes that filled the cars of the elevated railroad on Greenwich Street.  The train was stopped just feet short of the Debrosses Street Station.  The passengers were unable to leave the train for about half an hour, The Times reporting that the 30 men and 35 women "were compelled to breathe the smoke heavily charged with chemicals."  Ten of the women passengers were "exhausted by the smoke" and had to be carried off the train by policemen.

Through it all Henry Welsh's real estate business remained in the building, by now run by his son, Henry Bradshaw Welsh.  In 1915 the younger Henry would problems other that fire on his mind.

He had married Malvinia Elizabeth Beck in January 1897.  Their fashionable Grace Church wedding was followed by a reception in the Waldorf Hotel.  The couple steamed away for their honeymoon in Florida on Welsh's yacht.  In 1915 they had two children, 16-year old Helen and 17-year old Henry.

But Welsh's wandering eye had not only gotten him into trouble but into the courts.  On June 19, 1915 Malvinia sued for separation, alleging her husband had "abandoned her and her children."  For good measure, she filed an action to recover the $1,700 she said she loaned him on January, 1, 1898.

In the meantime, he was sued for $50,000 (nearly $1.25 million today) by Archibald Hamilton Whan.  Whan was an efficiency expert and a tenant of Welsh in New Rochelle, New York.  His wife, Edna Vanderpoel Whan, had sued for separation from him.  The tangle of litigation all centered on to Henry Welsh's romantic dalliances.

Whan told the court he left his wife "because she insisted on receiving the attentions to Welsh after he had entrusted her to have nothing to do with him."  His suit against Welsh was for alienating his wife's affections.

P.  Keller & Co. occupied the top floor of No. 463 Greenwich Street at the time.  It changed its name in 1917 to the Merit Machine Manufacturing Company.  The firm manufactured "projection lanterns" (known popularly as magic lanterns), motion picture machines, stereopticons and related items.

P. Keller & Co. manufactured this "magic lantern" in 1914. Principles, Installation and Use of the Magic Lantern, Projection Microscope, Reflecting Lantern, Moving Picture Machine (copyright expired)

Almost unbelievably, it was "burned out," according to the New-York Tribune, when fire gutted the sixth floor on August 27, 1920.  Once again the elevated trains were halted for about half an hour.  The newspaper reported that the firm's losses were estimated at $30,000; or about $400,000 today.  The firm nevertheless rebuilt and was still in the here in 1925 when it advertised a new product--permanent hair waving machines.

The magazine Motor West reported on April 15, 1921 on the rise of "truck terminals" and noted "Both the public and commercial hauler gain by the operation of truck terminals."  Hudson Motor Trucking Company jointed the trend, establishing itself in No. 469 Greenwich Street in the early Depression years where clients temporarily stored goods before being shipped off to retailers.

On September 18, 1933 driver, Sherman Atwater headed to Albany with a load of drugs and merchandise.  He did not get very far.  On 11th Avenue, between 43rd and 44th Streets, his truck was hijacked by five men.  Two of them drove his van away while the others forced Atwater to the roof of a West 26th Street tenement between 10th and 11th Avenues where he was held prisoner for three hours.

Later that day police found the truck abandoned on West 48th Street.  Part of the load had been removed, but around $15,000 of merchandise was still in the van.

The gritty atmosphere of the Tribeca neighborhood at mid-century was evidenced in 1954 when the Industrial Waste Corporation purchased Nos. 467 and 469.   But change was on the distant horizon.

Tribeca's rebirth in the last quarter of the 20th century transformed its streets and population.  In the fall of 1983 the Upper West Side bakery, Umanoff & Parsons, relocated to No. 467 Greenwich Street.   In the building soap was manufactured in the first years of the century, The New York Times now praised the bakery's "excellent lattice-top cranberry apple, walnut and mixed fruit harvest pie, pumpking, pecan, apple, fudge walnut and coconut custard [pies]."

The Tribeca renaissance brought another change to the Greenwich Street buildings.  In February 1984 the upper floors of each of the buildings contained five sprawling residences.  The problem was that the structures were built as factories, not homes, and had no Certificate of Occupancy and did not meet the minimum health and safety standards.  Considering the structures' terrifying history of fires, it was a grave issue.

Residents and landlords faced off in court.  Papers estimated the cost to the owners to legalize each one of the buildings at $350,000.   A law enacted in 1982 required the landlords to upgrade former factories being used as residential space.   Eventually, the massive building was renovated to modern apartments.

photographs by the author

The Port Warehouse Bldg - Nos. 54-58 Laight Street

In 1705 Queen Anne granted a massive tract of rural land on Manhattan's west side to Trinity Church.   Stretching approximately from Fulton Street to Christopher Street, it was originally called the Queen's Farm.  Following the Revolution it was known as the Church Farm.

One particularly ardent anti-Royalist during that conflict was Trinity vestryman William Laight.  A prominent merchant, he was a member of the Committee of 100 which, among other activities, sent a list of "American wrongs" to London on May 5, 1775.

When Trinity Church announced plans in 1803 for developing parts of the Church Farm slightly north of the expanding city, reaction was swift and negative.  The boggy, reed-filled area was overrun with mosquitoes and snakes.  It was known for decades as "where was skating in winter and hunting in summer."

Undeterred, the Church forged on, creating Manhattan's most exclusive residential neighborhood, St. John's Park, by 1810.  Trinity named one of the new roads Laight Street, in honor of William Laight.

Laight Street was soon lined with handsome brick-faced homes.   Christopher Lord, a manufacturer of medicine chests, lived at No. 54 Laight in the 1830s; and by 1846 the well-to-do George W. Prescott called it home.  Prescott's private stable was just down the block at No. 48 Laight Street.


But drastic change would come to the refined neighborhood two years after the Civil War.  Trinity Church sold the St. John's Park property to the Hudson River Railroad Company, which immediately laid plans for a freight terminal.   Wealthy homeowners abandoned their Federal-style mansions, which were quickly razed or converted for business.

Henry J. Meyer's ship chandler business had boomed during the Civil War.  He now used his fortune to get in on the rapid redevelopment of the freight terminal neighborhood.   In 1870 he hired George W. DaCunha to design a warehouse building to replace the old houses at Nos. 54, 56 and 58 Laight Street.  It would be just one of several such structures Meyer would erect in the immediate area.

Interestingly, for this project DaCunha doubled as the builder as well.  The completed five story structure was faced in red brick and took inspiration from the German form of Romanesque Revival known as Rundbogenstil.  There was no attempt at costly, decorative materials for the utilitarian building.  Instead, brick was used to create the handsome elements--elliptical arched drip moldings above the openings, a stepped corbel table below the cornice, and a blind roundel within the triangular pediment.

The warehouse had barely commenced operation when it was the victim of what a headline in The New York Times proclaimed an "Extraordinary Burglary."  Indeed, the heist committed on December 2, 1871 was the stuff of sensational crime novels.

Towards the end of November a young woman rented a room on the top floor of the tenement building next door, at No 60 Laight Street.  The newspaper explained that that building "adjoins and is fifteen feet higher than the bonded warehouse of Henry J. Meyer, Nos. 54, 56 and 58 Laight Street."

A few days later, on Saturday, four men were seen bringing trunks to her room.  But there was nothing out of the ordinary in that, nor in the fact that Monday morning "the room was vacated and the trunks carried away with a load of household furniture."

But when the warehouse was opened that Monday morning, it was immediately apparent that burglars had ransacked the place.  Investigation revealed that the criminals had entered by the roof scuttle, which had been forced open from inside the building.  The Times reported that "made it clear that some of the outlaws had managed to secrete themselves in the [ware]house before it was closed on Saturday, and had thus passed out the plunder to their comrades, and had then got out in the same way."

Police Captain Petty went to the room in the tenement.  Breaking open the door, he found "a folding ladder, a dark lantern [one with blinders that limited the spread of light to a specific area], a lot of burglar's tools, and the original paper wrappers of the silks."  (Those silks were 47 bolts of black and colored fabrics belonging to the massive H. B. Claflin & Co. wholesale firm on Worth Street.) 

The crooks got off with $14,000 worth of goods--in the neighborhood of $280,000 today.  Detectives were able to trace them to No. 211 West 13th Street and rushed in to make arrests.  But, wrote The Times, "the hope raised by this discovery was instantly destroyed by the further information that the goods had been removed from this house on Tuesday."

The trail then went cold.  "It was found that they had been taken away in a two-horse furniture truck painted red, the driver of which was a short, stout German who spoke English very imperfectly, and who was assisted in the loading by two colored men.  With this information the trace of the thieves was entirely lost."

The break-in and loss was a rare incident for Henry J. Meyer.   His business continued to flourish and he lived in style with his wife, Jennie, in Hastings-on-Hudson, New York.  In 1877, the year that he died, he still operated several storage warehouses including the Laight Street building.

Following Meyer's death, Nos. 54-58 Laight Street was taken over by Baker & Williams.  Among the largest bonded storage firms in the city, it too operated from several locations.  In the summer of 1897 George W. DaCunha's construction expertise was proved when a "fierce fire" broke out in the R. E. Dietz Company's factory next door.

That building, which stretched to the corner of Greenwich Street, was nearly destroyed.  Baker & Williams employees had jumped to action immediately when the fire was discovered.  The Times reported that "the shutters of all the windows in the warehouse were closed, the doors locked, and every precaution taken against a deluge from the hose."

When the blaze was extinguished, insurance inspector went through the warehouse, "but found everything intact.  Not a drop of water had reached any of the valuable dry goods stored in the building."

The Port Warehouse also operated multiple storage facilities.  By 1925 it had acquired No. 54-58 Laight Street.   Unlike Henry Meyer and Baker & Williams, which handled mostly dry goods, Port Warehouse had a wide variety of clients.

photo via trinitywallstreet.org (original source unknown)

On September 28, 1925 one of Port Warehouse's drivers, Henry Harrison, left the building for Brooklyn's massive Bush Terminal.  He was almost there when four men in an automobile forced his truck to the curb.

Newspapers reported "Pressing pistols against his body, two of the four men drove Harrison to Ebbets Field, where he was thrown out.  The other thieves made off with the truck before the police could be summoned."  The kidnapping and robbery took place "in the view of hundreds of dock workers."

Whether the crooks realized what they were stealing is unclear; but Harrison's truck was loaded with $30,000 worth of cigarettes.   The valuable, if surprising, booty would be valued at more than $400,000 today.

Before the rediscovery of Tribeca in the last quarter of the 20th century, Laight Street was industrial and gritty.  photo by Edmund Vincent Gillon from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The Port Warehouse remained in the building at least through the 1970s.  In 1990 a renovation resulted in offices above the first floor; and in 2009 it was renovated again for use as a "telephone exchange."

The overhanging roof of the former freight platform was removed and the loading bays were filled in  (rather unsympathetically).  And a well-deserved cleaning unfortunately removed the old Port Warehouse signage.  Otherwise, George W. DaCunha's nearly 150-year old warehouse retains its handsome dignity.

photographs by the author