J. Morgan Slade's 1880 36 White Street

 

Born in 1836, Seth Mellen Milliken co-founded the dry goods and textile firm of Deering-Milliken Co.  Having amassed a fortune by the mid-1870s, he invested in speculative real estate.  In 1880, Milliken purchased the converted vintage house at 36 White Street, just east of Church Street.  As early as 1821, when the neighborhood was almost exclusively residential, the R. Tagart's School operated from the house.  Now Milliken hired architect Jarvis Morgan Slade to design a loft and store building on the site.

The 27-year-old architect had already made his mark in the dry goods district known today as Tribeca, having designed commercial structures in a variety of historic styles and materials.  Among his most striking was the David S. Brown Soap Store building at 8 Thomas Street--a brick and stone Victorian Gothic confection.

Slade's plans, filed in April 1880, described a five-story brick building with "galvanized iron cornice."  He projected the construction costs at $20,000--about $633,000 in 2025 terms.  For Milliken's project, he turned to the fashionable neo-Grec style, splashing it with whimsical Queen Anne details.

Slade's cast iron storefront was highly unusual.  Two beefy piers on either end were incised to suggest fluting and wore flat, egg-and-dart capitals.  The storefront was deeply recessed behind the cast iron elements.  Two thin, deep piers with Ionic capitals supported two shorter examples, like circus acrobats balancing atop the shoulders of another.

The architect chose a warm sandstone to contrast with the red brick of the upper floors.  Other than the identical, pencil-thin cast iron columns separating the grouped windows, each floor was treated separately.  And, yet, by placing a stone arch above the fourth floor openings, Slade gave the mid-section the visual appearance of a single large segmental arch.  Stone moldings crowned with rosette-incised panels transformed the brick piers of the top floor to pilasters.

Milliken's project was profitable.  He sold the building in September 1882 for $64,000--just over $2 million today. 

An early tenant was Nathan Cohen, who dealt in trimmings.  His success afforded him the funds to purchase at least two tenement buildings.  Around 1890, his wife, whom he married in 1859, convinced him to transfer title to his properties, including the business, to her.  The decision would end their decades long marital bliss.

Cohen began experiencing financial difficulties in 1891 and, according to The New York Times, "his creditors chased after assets until their legs ached."  He asked his wife to return the properties, but she refused.  "And ever since Cohen and his wife have been out [i.e., at odds]," said The New York Times.

Cohen retaliated against his wife by filing complaints to the Health Department.  They purported that the plumbing and sanitary conditions of the tenement buildings were unhealthy.  He additionally alerted the Fire Department that "they were liable to burn," and told the Building Department that they were unsafe.  The New York Times reported that his fictitious suits against his wife's properties were filed "in various names," but "were discontinued one by one."  He then sued her for $800 for money he claimed he had loaned her over their years together.

One day, Mrs. Cohen discovered her husband attempting to spirit away the household silverware to pawn.  She "recovered the silverware and thrashed Cohen with a broom," according to The Times.  "The couple frequently assaulted each other, and Mrs. Cohen made Cohen sleep down stairs.  He had a habit of getting up at 2 A. M. and yelling names at her," said the newspaper.  The domestic rift affected the 36 White Street business, and in 1892 it failed.

Another Cohen in the building, presumably not related, was Jacob Cohen, a partner with Moses L. Rosenfeld in the shirt manufacturing firm Cohen & Rosenfeld.  The firm moved in upon organizing in January 1886.  An audit of the books on January 1, 1893, showed that the firm was on shaky financial ground.  Owners of two creditors, Abraham Steinam and William L. Strong & Co., panicked when they saw crates leaving the building on October 18.  The truck driver said he had removed 30 "large cases of goods."  Cohen and Rosenfeld, aware that their business was about to fail, were attempting to sneak their inventory out of the building, safe from being attached.  The ploy did not work.

On October 19, the New York Herald reported that the sheriff "took charge yesterday of the place of business of Cohen & Rosenfield."  The article said, "Seven cases had been found stored in a warehouse under a fictitious name."

Other tenants in the building at the time were Shaw & Peck, linen merchants; the Art Fabric Co., textile designers; and dry goods importer Joseph L. Frame.

Joseph L. Frame died at the age of 63 on March 10, 1903, ending the business.  The Hearn department store on West 14th Street purchased the entire stock of the "prominent importer," as described by its advertisement in The New York Times on April 12, 1903.  The ad revealed the wide-ranging items in which Frame dealt--linen fringed cloths, satin damask dinner sets, dress linens, "glass towellings," linen napkins and such.

The Art Fabric Co. introduced a surprising item just in time for Christmas 1904--a cloth "life size doll."  The "clothes" were printed onto the fabric and the doll came with shoes that "can be put on and off."  Standing 2.5 feet tall, it sold for 50 cents.

The Life Size Doll was touted as having no clothes to ruin or get lost.  New-York Tribune, December 11, 1904 (copyright expired)

Among the tenants in 1913 were the Perfect Pants Co., and Robert Watson & Sons, makers and importers of "handkerchiefs and linen lawns," according to an advertisement in September that year.  The firm's factory was in Lurgan, Ireland.

Robert Watson & Sons was still in the building in 1919, but they would have to find a new location.  On April 27, the New-York Tribune reported that linen dealer Watts-Stebbins & Co. had leased "all the lofts at 36 White Street."

The venerable 34 White Street next door was a relic of the early development of the area.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Watts-Stebbins & Co. may have leased the entire upper building to eliminate inquisitive co-tenants.  Three months earlier, Congress ratified the 18th Amendment, known as the Volstead Act.  It demanded that starting on January 17, 1920 the manufacture or sale of alcohol would be prohibited.  It took Prohibition agents a little time to discover Watts-Stebbins & Co.'s sideline, but on September 17, 1922, the New-York Tribune reported that agents "raided a linen establishment occupying four floors at 36 White Street, and [seized liquor] in excess of $500,000."  The raid was triggered when an undercover agent visited the address earlier and talked to a clerk, Joseph Elliott.  Elliott sold him six bottles of whisky for $30.

Manhattan's downtown district, including Tribeca, was  celebrated for its architecture in 1975, when June was officially proclaimed by the City Planning Commission "Lower Manhattan on Exhibit Month."  Part of the exhibitions and activities was a quirky "fashion show" of famous buildings on parade.  On June 19, The New York Times explained, "The buildings were actually costumes created and worn by architects and artists, and they were put on to dramatize the area's architectural heritage and evolution."  Among the structures represented in the parade was 36 White Street.

The third quarter of the 20th century saw a renewed interest in the Tribeca area as industrial lofts were converted to artists' studios and living spaces, and stores that once sold fabrics and trimmings became trendy shops and cafes.  In 1981, Jarvis Morgan Slade's handsome 36 White Street was converted to apartments, one per floor above the storefront.

photographs by the author

J. Morgan Slade's 1883 86-88 Franklin Street

 

On December 1, 1880, James O'Donohue sold the "two-story brick factory building and two-story frame shop in rear" at 88 Franklin Street to Isaac W. Howe and William P. Draper.  The sale came at a time when the transformation of the Tribeca neighborhood from residential to commercial was nearly complete.  Almost three months later, on January 31, 1881, the men (who lived in Nahant, Massachusetts) purchased the "four-story brick warehouse" next door at 86 Franklin. 

On April 23, 1881, The Real Estate Record reported, "Isaac W. Howe and William P. Draper will build a first class store in Franklin st," saying it would be six-stories high and come "from the designs of J. M. Slade."  The article continued, "It will have an iron front and all the modern improvements...The cost is $55,000."  Coupled with the $80,500 Howe and Draper had spent on the real estate, their total outlay would came to about $4 million in 2024 terms.

Early in the building's construction, tragedy hit.  On September 8, 1881, The New York Times reported, "Thomas H. Close, a carpenter, 46 years of age...fell from the sixth floor of the new building No. 88 Franklin-street to the cellar yesterday, and was instantly killed."

Completed in 1883, the 50-foot-wide cast iron structure was handsome and regimented.  Jarvis Morgan Slade had blended elements of Second Empire (in the gently arched openings, for instance), with the geometric lines of the currently popular neo-Grec, and whimsical elements of Queen Anne, seen, for instance, in the pencil-thin columns connected to the facade by decorative plates.

Two of the main selling points of cast iron facades were the quickness with which they were erected, and their fireproof qualities.  The remains of gutted interiors often smoldered behind intact cast iron fronts.  Surprisingly, therefore, after fire broke out on the top floor of 86-88 Franklin Street in 1895, the galvanized iron cornice had to be replaced and some of the sixth floor ironwork required repairing.

Among the early tenants was Bamberger, Oppenheimer & Co., manufacturers of umbrellas and parasols.  Founded by Herman Bamberger and Max Oppenheimer in 1868, New York's Great Industries said in 1884, "few have developed a larger and more widespread trade."

Also in the building were Manning & Co., selling agents for woolen manufacturers; and Loew & Schoenfeld, importers of embroideries.  The latter was a rather small operation, employing just six women who worked 54 hours per week in 1895.

Theodore Vogler was the proprietor of Vogler's Brooklyn and New York Express.  Somewhat surprisingly, he personally drove one of the firm's wagons into Manhattan on the afternoon of January 16, 1893 with a load of packages, one of which was destined for 86-88 Franklin Street.  Vogler pulled his wagon to the curb and took the parcel inside.  The Evening World reported, "he reappeared in time to see a short, stockily built man grab a package from the wagon and start to run away."

Vogler gave chase and, as he nearly closed the gap between them, the crook dropped the package and attacked.  The article said, "Vogler struck out full force striking the thief on the head, felling him to the sidewalk.  The man lay motionless, and blood began oozing from his mouth and ears."  He had not regained consciousness when he was removed to Chambers Street Hospital.  

Theodore Vogler went to the Leonard Street Police Station, explained what had happened, and turned himself in.  The police knew the victim, who had been in the Tombs just two weeks earlier charged with "attempting to rob a huckster's cart."  Several of Vogler's friends pleaded unsuccessfully with Justice Simms to release him on bail.  He was held in the Tombs "to await the result of injuries" on the man, which The Evening World described as a "fracture of the skulls, which, in all probability, will result fatally."

The turn of the century saw another umbrella maker, Worman, Simons & Co., in the building.  In 1901 it employed 10 men and 30 women who worked 57 hours a week.  Also here was the New York branch of the San Francisco-based shirt and overalls manufacturer, Neustadter Brothers.  

The Neustadter Brothers space was in the rear of 86-88 Franklin Street at a 90-degree angle to the rear of 273-275 Church Street.  Neustadter Brothers, expectedly, had several female employees.  One view from its windows looked directly into the washroom of A. Shrimpton & Co. in the Church Street building.  "Persons using it could be seen by the Neustadter hands through the open windows," said The New York Times on August 9, 1903, "and the latter's operatives thought a screen for the window would be about the right thing."  Rather than simply asking A. Shrimpton & Co. to erect the screen, the Neustadter Brothers manager, a Mr. Fischer, filed a complaint with the Factory Inspection Bureau.  It launched what The New York Times called a "merry washroom war."

"An Inspector was sent to Shrimpton's, and when the purport of his visit was made known, Mr. Schrimpton, Sr. was very angry."  He complied with the order to erect a screen, but placed a sign on it that read, "This is private property.  Look the other way."

Now it was Fischer who was angered, and he complained to the Factory Inspection Bureau a second time.  The New York Times reported, "Mr. Shrimpton was even more annoyed than at the outset, so he placed on the screen a large colored lithograph bearing the inscription: "Don't chew the rag."

The conflict escalated.  Fischer employed a photographer to take images of the "offensive ornamentation on the screen" and sent it off to the Factory Inspection Bureau with a third complaint.  The New York Times reported, "Meanwhile the neighbors were awakening to the fact that a lively controversy was on, and eagerly awaited developments, which followed in quick succession."  

Fischer insisted he had no personal feelings against Shrimpton, but would not back down even if it meant going to court.  "On the other hand, Mr. Shrimpton frankly admits that he is out for satisfaction, and that Mr. Fischer can secure peace only by making an apology for going to the authorities instead of first appealing to Mr. Shrimpton's sense of the eternal fitness of things."  The New York Times reported that he had "collected a large assortment of suggestive lithographs," and had placed a sign over the window near the screen that read "Watch this space for new attractions."

The building continued to attract tenants in the apparel and textile industries through mid-century.  M. H. Oppenheimer & Co., cotton converters, was here in the post-World War I years; and after World War II Multitex Corporation, "cotton and linen manufacturers" and "importers and exporters of textiles," operated from the building.

The last quarter of the 20th century, however, saw major change in Tribeca, as lofts became residences and stores were converted to restaurants, galleries, and theaters.  In 1978 the Islene Pinder Balinese American Dance Theater opened in 86-88 Franklin Street.  The New York Times explained on June 11, 1983 that it "draws on the traditions of Bali and modern dance."  

A renovation completed in 2001 resulted in one apartment each on the upper floors.   It was possibly at this time that the pediment atop the cornice was refaced.

Dune opened in the ground floor space.  The New York Times reported on June 28 that year that the store "sells an exclusive line of  furniture and textiles by contemporary designers."  It was replaced in 2012 by Aire Ancient Baths.

photographs by the author

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The 1882 Minot, Hooper & Co. Building - 51-53 Leonard Street

 

On January 29, 1881, The Real Estate Record reported that the opening of the Franklin Street elevated train station had led to increased rents and a scarcity of loft space in the "domestic dry-goods business in the fine buildings it now occupies in Leonard and Worth Streets and the adjacent territory."  The article noted that the situation was prompting the erection of new structures within the district.  Among those joining the trend was the drygoods firm of Minot, Hooper & Co.

The article said, "Minot, Hooper & Co., who now own the store they occupy at Nos. 51 and 53 Leonard street, are to build a store at No. 45."   Having seen the plans, the writer said, "we predict that this corner store will be recognized as one of the handsomest dry goods stores in this city."  The firm had hired Jarvis Morgan Slade to design the building.  And while he was at it, he was commissioned to simultaneously remodel 51-53 Leonard Street, which Minot, Hooper & Co. had erected in 1867.

The remodeling was completed in the fall of 1882.  Slade had retained much of the 1867 Italianate appearance of the building while adding modern touches like the neo-Grec style incised decorations on the sandstone piers.  Each of the five floors above the cast iron storefront was separated by a prominent intermediate cornice, and the two buildings were defined by paneled pilasters.

While the Record & Guide had predicted that 45 Leonard Street would be the star of the block, it changed its mind as the renovations to 51-53 Leonard Street were completed.  Here, J. Morgan Slade's engineers had solved the problem of gases and odors associated with indoor plumbing.  On September 2, 1882, the journal gave the head of Minot, Hooper & Co. all the credit, saying:

Mr. Nathan Hobart, in the erection of the stores Nos. 51 and 53 Leonard street, has done a work which should entitle him to the gratitude of all who expect to occupy places of business in this city, for he has solved the vexed problems of adequate plumbing and perfect ventilation...Of course, this has cost Mr. Hobart a good deal of money, but now that the work has been accomplished, other store builders can profit by his experience.

In November 1882, Minot, Hooper & Co. advertised available "sales-rooms and offices" in 51-53 Leonard Street, saying "this building has been reconstructed...in accordance with plans furnished by the architect, Mr. J. Morgan Slade."  The ad noted:

Special Attention is called to the top floor, which can be reached by the Otis Elevator in about twenty seconds.  This room, in addition to two large skylights, has windows on every side, thus securing a flood of light, with unlimited fresh air, while it is free from the common annoyance caused by reflection from surrounding buildings all of which it overlooks.

In a "special note" on November 18, 1882, the Record & Guide agreed, saying "Probably the most perfect business offices and rooms in the city are those offered to rent by Minot, Hooper & Co., No. 53 Leonard Street.  The advertisement does not overstate the desirable character of these offices.  Their sanitary arrangements are a model to all builders."

The remodeled building was so satisfactory, in fact, that Minot, Hooper & Co. did not move to their new structure down the block, but remained at 51-53 Leonard Street for years to come.

Tenants here during the 1880s and 1890s included the Lorraine Manufacturing Co., makers of "fine dress goods, flannels, and shirtings;" Amy & Co., dry goods commission merchants; and Edward T. Steel & Co., whose list of goods might cause some head scratching today.  An advertisement in January 1898 called the firm "manufacturers of fancy and piece dyed worsteds for men's wear, clay diagonals, clay mixtures, coatings, serges, trouserings, worsted cheviots, &c."

Linens manufacturer J. A. Ludlow was in the building at the turn of the century.  The firm got a sizable contract in 1907 to furnish the table and bed linens for an elegant new ocean liner.  In June 1908, The Master, Mate and Pilot reported that J. A. Ludlow had outfitted the "new Fall River Liner Commonwealth."  The New York Architect explained that the firm supplied the "table cloths, napkins, bed sheets, pillow slips, bed spreads, and hand, glass and kitchen towels forming the Steamer Commonwealth's equipment,"  It added, "The patterns on the table damask were made especially for this steamer and are held for the exclusive use of the New England Navigation Company."

An advertisement highlighted the table and bed linens for the Commonwealth.   The New York Architect, July 1908 (copyright expired)

Other drygoods firms here in the pre-World War I years were T. Russell Dawson & Co., which took space in December 1903; the handkerchief manufacturers Howland & Wheaton Company, which leased additional space in 1904 "owing to the increase in their business," according to The New York Times on May 22; and the John M. Harris & Co., "selling agents of worsteds and woolens."

W. M. Austin & Co. occupied space in the building starting around 1909.  Dry Goods Economist, August 1, 1914 (copyright expired)

The structure continued to house drygoods firms in the years following World War I.  By 1921, W. M. Austin & Co. had become Austin, Woodbury Co., while still dealing in "fine cotton goods."  Engel-Upmann & Co. moved into the building upon its establishment in 1919, and E. O. Barnard Co., shirtings merchants, was here well into the 1920s.

The Haberdasher and The Clothier and Furnisher, June 1926

During the Depression years, space was taken by the Downtown Textile Workers Committee, a industry political group.  On October 31, 1933, during the mayoral campaign, members gathered to hear an address by Dr. William Jay Schieffelin, chairman of the Committee of One Thousand.  The New York Sun said he "asserted that the one clear issue in the campaign is whether the city shall be governed by a political machine.  The people are behind the candidacy of Mr. LaGuardia, he said."

The columned cast iron storefront was relatively intact in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The garment and textile industries moved northward as midcentury neared.  In the 1980s and early 1990s, 51-53 Leonard Street was home to Gaffney-Kroese Electric Supply Co.  But an unexpected holdout was Friedman & Distillator, which opened in 1923 selling fabric to milliners.  It was still in the building in April 1993 when its customers were largely lampshade makers.

The Tribeca renaissance of the late 20th century was slow to arrive at 51-53 Leonard Street.  In 2002 the upper floors were converted to residential spaces.  The top floor, which was highly touted in the 1882 advertisement, became part of a 3,287-square-foot triplex apartment.  Holger Bartel, publisher of Travelzoo, sold the space in February 2018 for $8.9 million.

Although the cast iron storefront has been radically altered, the upper floors of J. Morgan Slade's 1882 renovation are beautifully intact.

photographs by the author

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J. Morgan Slade's 1884 654 Broadway

 

In the 1830's the well-to-do merchant Edwin Post lived in at No. 654 Broadway, among the finest residences in the city.  By the end of the Civil War the neighborhood was almost entirely commercial and in 1866 the publishing firm of Charles Scriber Company moved into the former dwelling.

As tall loft buildings transformed the neighborhood in the last quarter of the century, real estate broker Daniel Birdsall demolished No. 654 in 1883 and hired architect Jarvis Morgan Slade to design a modern replacement building.  

The two made a likely pair.  Birdsall specialized in loft and warehouse buildings, and J. Morgan Slade had been designing loft buildings in Tribeca and Soho since the mid-1870's.

The six-story structure was completed in 1884.  Slade's cast iron facade was overall neo-Grec in style, but he utilized pencil thin columns backed by lacy panels to soften the often stiffly geometric lines of the style.  Each of the identical floors was flanked by beefy banded pilasters and intermediate cornices defined each level.  A triangular pediment crowned the terminal cornice.

Seen at the right, the pediment was intact when this photograph was taken in 1904.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The building filled with apparel and millinery firms, like Albert Shumway & Son, one of the oldest millinery companies in the city.  Other early tenants included milliners Herman Kratzenstein and John Somerville & Co., and "women's and infants' furnisher," A. A. Dreyspool.  

By around 1904 the ground was home to the Physical Culture Restaurant.  An offshoot of the Physical Culture Publishing firm located nearby at Nos. 29-33 East 19th Street, the two operations promoted physical health through exercise and diet.  Both were operated by Bernard MacFadden.  Physical Culture magazine provided articles on healthful living--exercise, avoidance of smoking and drinking, nutrition and such.  But it was the accompanying photographs of nearly naked men which accompanied some articles that drew the attention of more priggish types.

The revealing illustrations in Physical Culture shocked many.  (copyright expired)

The restaurant, too, drew attention in 1906.  On March 29 The Sun reported that Bernard MacFadden had been arrested on charges by reformist Anthony Comstock "for exhibiting in his physical culture restaurant at 654 Broadway posters advertising the physical culture show then being held at Madison Square Garden."  The article explained "The posters contained pictures of some of the star athletes who competed in a similar exhibition the year before.  The athletes were of both sexes."

The judges disagreed in the case, Justice Deuel contending "that it is detrimental to public morals to exhibit the photographs of athletes clad in union suits [i.e., underwear]," and Justice McKean said "it was very bad for the public morals to place such pictures in a public place."  On the other hand, Justice Zeller disagreed, saying that he "could see nothing harmful whatever about the posters."

In a sort of compromise, both MacFadden and the restaurant's manager were found guilty and then given suspended sentences.  It drew the wrath of Anthony Comstock who erupted in court demanding that MacFadden be "dealt with severely" and saying "This man MacFadden things he is above the law."

Comstock's tirade was interrupted by Justice Zeller who said, "You disagree with me about these things, but I think my standard of decency is as high as yours.  I see nothing harmful in these pictures."  The Sun concluded its article with, "Comstock subsided and the case ended."

The Physical Culture Restaurant would operate in the space into the World War I years.  In the meantime, the upper floors continued to house apparel and millinery firms.  A. A. Dreyspool Co., one of the first tenants, was still here in 1915.  Other tenants were the Liberty Hat company, Pants of Superior Brand, Inc., shirt makers Baum & Rabinowitz, and knee pants manufacturers Hindes & Geller.

Dry Goods Economist, September 12, 1914 (copyright expired)

Daniel Birdsall & Co. still owned the building in 1922 when it leased the former restaurant space to the State Army and Navy Merchandise Corporation.  It and similar stores sold off surplus military clothing the Government no longer needed with the end of World War I.   Upstairs, as the garment district inched northward, the tenant list was slightly changing.  The Commercial Headwear Co. signed a lease that same year, and other tenants included the National Belt & Bag Co. and the Crescent Lace Manufacturing Company.

The building was threatened with fire at 3:00 on the morning of January 20, 1938.  Described by the Daily News as "a stubborn, smoky fire," it broke out in the basement.  To access the blaze, firemen "drilled through the ground floor."  Luckily the fire was extinguished before it could spread upward.

As the neighborhood transformed to one of trendy shops and restaurants in the last quarter of the 20th century, No. 654 was converted to joint living-working quarters for artists above the store level.  At some point the pediment atop the cornice was lost, but overall J. Morgan Slade's handsome cast iron building is intact after nearly 140 years.

photographs by the author

The 1874 Martin Bates, Jr. & Co. Bldg - 489-493 Broome Street

photo by Beyond My Ken

Architect Jarvis Morgan Slade's father, Jarvis Slade, was among the first major developers to change the face of the neighborhoods later known as Tribeca and Soho from residential to commercial.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide would call him a "pioneer in this district" and say "it was mainly due to his influence that it was so rapidly covered with first-class buildings."

As a teenager J. Morgan Slade learned architecture in the offices of Edward H. Kendall.  He the opened his own practice at No. 346 Broadway and at just 20-years old received a significant commission--a five-story, 62-foot wide commercial building for silk merchant Martin Bates.

Located at Nos. 489-493 Broome Street between Wooster Street and West Broadway, the structure went up with lighting speed.  Construction began on August 1, 1873 and was completed four months later, on January 31.  Partially responsible for the rapid completion was Slade's choice of cast iron for the facade.  The ability to bolt large pre-cast sections onto the masonry frame was widely touted for its time-saving (as well as fire-proof) qualities.

Costing $75,000 to construct (about $1.65 million today), Slade had produced a highly restrained, sparsely ornamented building.  Each of the upper floors was essentially identical (the second floor received preferential treatment with its engaged columns sitting on paneled pedestals).  Even the capitals of the columns were understated.  While other architects were embellishing their cast iron columns with elaborate, leafy Corinthian capitals, Slade chose a simple ring of egg-and-dart molding that resembled a string pearls.

Slade's subdued capitals are quietly dignified.

Within the triangular pediment above the bracketed cornice was the date construction date 1873.

Bates moved his business, Martin Bates, Jr. & Co., into the new structure.  The American Hatter would later call the firm "one of the pioneer establishments in the fur business, dating back to the year 1834."  At the time of its founding in Boston it was Martin Bates & Sons.  Martin Bates, Jr. opened the New York office in 1845 and in 1853 the firm was renamed Martin Bates, Jr. & Co.

Furs not only provided Victorian consumers warmth but status, as well.  Martin Bates Jr. & Co. did a large sealskin business, requiring several vessels that steamed to Alaska for skins.  The American Hatter added that it also dealt in "buffalo robes, deer, elk beaver and all kinds of furs."

Directory of the Hat, Cap and Fur Trades, 1880 (copyright expired)

Bates leased space in the building to A. De Grieff & Co., a trimming goods importer.  The respected organization suffered humiliating press coverage in 1875.  On December 22 The New York Herald reported "No little stir occurred in the Custom House yesterday with reference to the customs seizure of the establishment of A. De Grieef [sic] & Co., of Nos. 489 to 493 Broome street."

photo by Beyond My Ken (cropped)

The firm had received 95 cases of dress trimming from Paris, the value of which it declared at $14,000.  Suspecting fraud, the Customs office sent inspectors Benjamin and Cosgrove sent to the Broome Street factory with orders "that no goods are allowed to leave the establishment without their knowledge and consent."  

The senior partner in A. De Grieff & Co. admitted that the goods were worth about $70,000; but deflected blame onto a fired clerk.  "We believe that these accusations against us of defrauding the revenue emanate from a discharged clerk named Bell."

After only six years in the building Martin Bates, Jr. & Co. moved to Greene Street in 1880.  Among Bates's Broome Street tenants at the time were Clinton H. Smith & Co., lace goods manufacturer; Wightman & Co., ladies apparel makers; and Fleitmann & Co., silk importers and commission merchants.

Established by Ewald and Hermann Fleitman who had arrived in New York from Germany in 1864, Fleitmann & Co. was by now among the largest commercial merchants in the city.  

Despite the intricate work required to produce high-quality lace goods, female workers of Clinton H. Smith & Co. made what today would be considered sweat shop wages.  An advertisement in 1881 read "Experienced operators on lace goods can get from $7 to $12 per week, steady work."   The higher end of that range would equal $300 today.

Dry goods merchant George Forbes occupied space in the building in 1887.  And that year he learned a lesson about drinking too much.  On May 20 he stumbled out of "a drinking resort" on 6th Avenue and hailed a hansom cab.  The driver, Benjamin Frankford, owned the cab as well as the livery stable where it was housed.  When they got to Forbes's home on East 87th Street, Frankford helped the inebriated man get to the door.

Later Forbes realized his gold watch and chain, valued at nearly $7,000 in today's money, were missing.  Hoping that Forbes had been too drunk to recognize him, Frankford boldly reappeared at his door the next day.  He said he was a private detective and was certain he could track down the thief.  Forbes handed him $10 as a retainer.

Frankford repeatedly returned, but never with the watch; only to get additional fees.  Finally, after having spent over $1,800 in today's dollars, Forbes realized he was being swindled.  Frankford was arrested and Forbes had learned a very expensive lesson about over-imbibing.

By 1892 I. Modry & Co., makers of "caps, laces and rufflings," and The Empire Manufacturing Co., children's dresses manufacturers, were the two major tenants.  I. Modry & Co., headed by Ignatius Modry (known as Ignaz), was a massive operation, employing 390 workers in 1892, only 15 of whom were men.  More than half of the operators were minors, with 50 of them under 16 years old.  The firm would remain in the building into the first years of the 20th century.

The building as photographed on April 13, 1916 looks little different today.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Following World War I the tenant list changed.  After the building was purchased in November 1917 by the Levett Sales Co., apparel related firms disappeared.  They were replaced by more industrial companies like General Platers' Supply Co. and the Parker Sheet Metal Works.  

New York Herald, January 26, 1919 (copyright expired)

The were joined in the 1920's by North & Herbert Co., Inc., dealers in machinery, automobile accessories and hardware; and Aerovox Wireless Corp, founded in 1922 as the Radiola Wireless Corporation, makers of radios and components.

Radio World, April 1926

The post-Prohibition years saw another type of tenant, the wine warehouse of De Boer & Miller, Inc. 

The Soho district would see dramatic change beginning in the 1970's as artists took over the old factory buildings.  The streets that had rumbled with delivery trucks increasingly saw the influx of art galleries, artist lofts and shops.  By 1971 the Fischbach art gallery was in the former Bates building and the following year the upper floors were converted to "studio and offices"--one per floor.

Fischbach remained in the building through the mid-1970's, joined by the Alessandro Gallery by 1976.  The Frank Marino Gallery was here in 1981.  Other commercial tenants over the next two decades would include The Handbag Workshop and the health food store Healthy Pleasures.

Another renovation completed in 2001 resulted in one sprawling apartment each on the second and fourth floors, and two each on the third and fifth.

photo by Beyond My Ken

Today the Martin Bates, Jr. & Co. building--designed by a young man barely out of his teens--is remarkably intact after more than a century and a half.

The Bear Mill Manufacturing Building - 120 Franklin Street

The matching 1901 addition is seen at the left.

Theodore B. Rogers was the nephew of Jacob Rogers, described by the New-York Tribune as "the eccentric millionaire locomotive builder."  In 1881 he commissioned architect Jarvis Morgan Slade to replace the three wooden structures at the northeast corner of Franklin Street and West Broadway with a six-story loft and store building.  

Slade was a likely choice.  On January 29 that year The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted that his father, Jarvis Slade, "was a pioneer in this district, and besides acquiring a large interest himself, it was mainly due to his influence that it was so rapidly covered with first-class buildings." The article added that Jarvis Morgan Slade was "well known in the dry goods community."

The building was completed the following year, an edgy industrial take on the neo-Grec style.  Hefty stone piers framed the cast iron elements of the storefronts.  The upper floors were faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Slade had divided the five floors into three sections, defined by brownstone still courses.  Segmental arches and inset rosettes at the fifth floor drew the eye upward, while rough-cut stone bands accentuated the horizontal lines.  A deeply-overhanging bracketed cornice capped the design.

The building filled with dry goods related firms, like importers R. McBrainey and the Artistic Weaving Company.  The latter firm was based in Saxony, Germany where it manufactured apparel labels and ribbons.  It was part of a customs scam uncovered early in 1890 that went to the highest level of the Post Office.

The Postmaster-General, John Wanamaker, shared the same name with the Philadelphia retailer.  On January 29, 1890 The Evening World rhetorically asked "Has 'Honest John Wanamaker'...been "aiding and abetting the 'Trademark' John Wanamaker...in violating the custom laws by conniving at smuggling foreign dry goods through the mails?"  The newspaper said "There are a good many quaking hearts in the Post-Office and the Custom-House, but the employee who gave away the fact that two packages of dress labels bearing the name of the Postmaster-General has been seized as smuggling goods is the most uncomfortable man in the service to-day."

The ribbons, which were to be used as belts for Wanamaker dresss, were from the German Artistic Weaving Company's plant in Germany and were addressed to John Wanamaker in care of Adolph Kluge at the Franklin Street headquarters.  

Had the Postmaster-General been the actual recipient as opposed to a commercial customer, his packages could be sent through the mail like without being subjected to customs; but the attached silk labels clearly contradicted that: "John Wanamaker Costumes, Philadelphia."  

The Evening World said that Kluge who "is evidently of a modest and retiring disposition," appeared to be "very much disturbed over the notoriety into which he had so suddenly sprung on account of his private mail consignment of Mr. Wanamaker's labels."  It appears to have been the end of the German Artistic Weaving Company in New York.  The firm is not listed in the building after the clever scheme was uncovered.

In 1894 a tenant which was decidedly not part of the dry goods industry moved in.  On November 1 The American Enameling Company opened its new showrooms with a splash, auctioning 48,000 pieces of "gray enameled teapots, coffee pots, tea kettles, wash basins, lipped saucepans, dish pans, convex saucepans, Berlin pots, Dresden kettles, &c."

Owner Charles R. Cobbs demolished the abutting tenement at No. 211 West Broadway in 1901 and hired the architectural firm of Schweitzer & Diemer to enlarge his building.  In an early (and unexpected) example of architectural cohesion, the architects perfectly copied Slade's two-decade-old design.  Even the cast iron elements of the storefront were faithfully copied.  The addition melded almost seamlessly with the original structure.

The enlargement may have had to do with the Bernheim & Walter's new lease on the building.   Run by brothers Adolph, Eugene, Charles, the cotton converting firm had been founded by their father.  By now it was described by The Sun as "one of the largest firms of its kind in the city, controlling the Bear Mills Manufacturing Company."  The Bernheims' youngest brother, Otto, was not a partner, but was employed as a clerk.  Nevertheless, according to The Sun, "while not a member of the family firm, [he] had inherited enough money to make himself independent."  The New-York Tribune added "he had a large income and, it is said, a comfortable fortune."

Wealthy young men like Otto quite often lived in upscale bachelor apartments.  In 1904 the 27-year-old moved into the Hotel Sevillia on West 58th Street.   Otto apparently suffered from what today would be diagnosed as clinical depression.  His brothers said "he was of a morose disposition and inclined to fits of prolonged depression."  His mother was abroad in the summer of 1905 had promised to send a cable to him on July 24.  When it did not arrive, he was "very despondent."

The following morning the Otto's barber, Fred Schuppert, arrived at his apartment to shave him.  He found Otto on the floor unconscious with a bullet wound in the head.  The bullet had traveled completely through his head and exited the window.  Bernheimer died within the hour without regaining consciousness.  

His rooms, according to The Sun, contained "the photographs of a number of young women."  One in particular seems to have been a sweetheart.  Several letters on scented, colored stationery were signed "Your ever loving, darling Kitty."

No investigation was launched into the young man's death; although there was one puzzling detail that would raise the eyebrows of forensic detectives today.  The Sun revealed "Although right handed he had apparently shot himself with his left hand, just behind the left temple."  

The Bernheimer brothers reorganized the firm within a year of the disturbing incident.  In 1906 the company was renamed Bear Mill Manufacturing.

The firm experienced a rash of thefts in 1909.  Shipments of raw goods consigned to Bear Mill Manufacturing were disappearing before reaching Franklin Street.   By the beginning of June $50,000 worth of linen had been stolen--a significant $1.42 million today.  Detectives followed up on a hunch by haunting the Hudson River piers where the goods came into the city.

On June 1 a shipment was scheduled to arrive at the New Bedford Steamboat Company pier.  The private investigators watched several young men who were loitering around the pier as a crates were loaded onto delivery wagons.

Sure enough, one of the men approached a clerk and showed him a seemingly authentic order for a case of linen consigned to Bear Mill.  The Sun reported "The clerk delivered to the man a case worth $1,800.  Three others put it on a wagon and drove away."  The four thieves made it only a few blocks before being nabbed.

Bear Mill Manufacturing remained in the building for years.  Charles Bernheim was its president by 1918, when he was elected a trustee of the East River Savings Association as well.

At mid-century the Hood Rubber Products Company occupied the building.   The Massachusetts-based firm was founded in 1896 by Frederic C. and Arthur N. Hood for the manufacture of rubber footwear.  In 1929 it merged with the B. F. Goodrich Company, continuing to manufacture the Hood brand and B. F. Goodrich brand rubber and canvas shoes.

Hood Rubber closed its plants in 1969.  It was not especially long before the transformation of Tribeca as a district of loft homes, trendy restaurants, galleries and shops arrived at the corner of West Broadway and Franklin.  In 1981 the ground floor housed the 211 Bar and Restaurant; and in 1994 the upper floors were converted to a total of ten sprawling residences.

The ground floor saw a succession of tenants.  In 1995 Layla, a restaurant owned by Robert De Niro and Drew Nieporent, opened.  The New York Times said on November 29, "This Middle Eastern fantasy was designed by Christopher Chesnutt with lifelike montages of belly dancers and water-pipe smokers, plus mosaics made of pottery shards."

In 2003 WaterMoon gallery sold Chinese and Tibetan antique furniture, Tibetan carpets, and Chinese porcelains and ceramics from the West Broadway store.  The rare items dated from the Neolithic era to the Ming Dynasty, according to The New York Times journalist Rita Reif on March 10 that year.

Wine bar Vinovino was here in 2009, followed by Centrico, which opened in 2011.   It was not a run-of-the-mill Mexican restaurant, Times food columnist Kris Ensminger noting its menu "includes oxtail enchiladas, tuna tostadas and wild mushroom quesadillas."

The structure remains astoundingly intact after nearly 140 years.  Its addition, almost indistinguishable despite being two decades younger that the main building, is remarkable.

photographs by the author