Alfred Zucker's 1892 5-7 East 16th Street

 

Steps from Fifth Avenue and a block west of Union Square, the houses at 5 and 7 East 16th Street sat within the city's mansion district in the Civil War years.  But by the mid-1880's businesses were overtaking the grand homes as their owners moved ever northward.  In February 1886 Mary A. Lyddy hired architect W. Jones to renovate 5 and 7 East 16th Street into "studios and offices," according to the plans.  Two-story iron storefronts replaced the high stoops.

Apparently not content with the results, only five years later Lyddy demolished both buildings and hired Alfred Zucker to design an eight-story loft building at a cost of $120,000--around $3.5 million in today's money.  The prolific architect would be responsible for dozens of loft, hotel and office buildings in New York.  

His design incorporated a two-story Romanesque Revival base faced in undressed brownstone.   The large entrances that flanked the storefront reflected the English Norman style with compound arches and clustered colonnettes.  On either side of the central opening of the second story were paired arched windows fronted by charming balconettes.  The upper six floors completely changed personality.  Here Zucker turned to a more manicured Renaissance Revival design, and clad the façade in beige brick trimmed in matching terra cotta.  

Lyddy gave her project a name, one that would not catch on.  On November 14, 1891 the Real Estate Record & Guide wrote, "The 'Geraldine,' the eight-story building which is being erected on 16th street, east of 5th avenue, for Mary A. Lyddy...is now up to the roof.  The Guastavino arches are noticeable in the present unplastered condition of the building."  The district had become popular with publishing firms and the strength-giving arch system would be necessary to accommodate heavy printing presses.  The article additionally noted, "The terra cotta work in the front of the building is very credible."

The structure was completed in January 1892 and quickly filled with printers and publishers.  Among the first was the weekly magazine The Illustrated American, which advertised itself as "The handsomest news magazine in the world.  Brilliant and beautiful, clean, instructive, and entertaining."

Two other initial tenants were the Stanley-Bradley Company, and the United States Book Company, which also ran its bookstore in the building.  Among the latter's releases in 1892 were Arthur Conan Doyle's The White Company, and three new books by J. M. Barrie including his highly successful The Little Minister.

Scribner's Magazine, December 1892 (copyright expired)

By the latter part of the decade The New York Times Educational Line, which offered an encyclopedia on an installment plan; The Baker & Taylor Co., publishers of school and college textbooks; and Frederick A. Stokes Company leased space in the building..

Frederick A. Stokes published a wide range of books.  In 1899, for instance, it offered several new books for boys, including Stephen Crane's Active Service, Tom Hall's The Fun and Fighting of the Rough Riders, and Jack, the Young Ranchman; or a Boy's Adventures in the Rockies.  For women and girls it offered Maud Humphrey's The Golf Girl; Robert Barr's Jennie Baxter, Journalist; and Cupid and the Footlights by James L. Ford.  There were classics, as well, like Oliver Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield and Thackeray's History of Henry Esmond.

The New-York Daily Tribune, December 15, 1900 (copyright expired)

The tenant list began to change around 1904.  While Frederick A. Stokes Company, the Globe School Book Co., and Neumann Bros. bookbinding were still in the building, garment manufacturers were taking space.  In 1904, two new tenants were the embroidery firm of Leon Jobin and Oppenheim & Neuglass, makers of "women's fashionable high grade tailor made suits." 

An advertisement appeared in the Record & Guide on October 15, 1904 that read, "To Settle an Estate the following property will be sold cheap for cash:  Nos. 5 and 7 East 16th St."  The asking price was $210,000--or about $6.3 million today.  It was purchased by Carrie M. Butler.

Five years later she hired the architectural firm of Israels & Harder to enlarge the building by removing the parapet and adding four floors.  Although they copied Alfred Zucker's overall design, none of the ornamentation of the lower floors was continued, making the addition noticeable.  At the same time the top floors were joined internally with 85 Fifth Avenue.

All of the tenants were now involved in the garment industry.  In 1912 they included Hut Neckwear Co.; Louis Kramer's silk neckwear factory; and Picadilly Waist Co.  The waist, or shirtwaist, was the most popular item of women's apparel at the time and Picadilly Waist Co. employed 60 women in its factory.  It had one man on its payroll, presumably the foreman.

In 1919 Golinko & Marks, makers of children's clothing, occupied the fourth floor.  On the morning of November 12 the foreman, Samuel Block, opened the shop to find "the entire floor in confusion," as worded by The Evening World.  The company's safe had been blown open and the explosion "scattered valuable ginghams and linens, scorched and torn."  The safe was empty.

Block telephoned police.  They soon discovered that the burglars had gone throughout the building.  On the fifth floor they had pried open the safe of T. Buchwald, makers of waists.  They removed a strong box and blasted it open.  John W. Burt, manufacturer of umbrellas and parasols on the sixth floor, had also fallen victim.  The "safe had been dynamited and many rolls of valuable silks had ben taken from smashed cabinets."

The bold robbers used bolts of cloth, brought upstairs from Golinko & Marks to deaden the sound of the explosions.  They left the singed remains on the floor of the hosiery firm Wallach & Mayer, Inc., on the seventh floor.  There they had blown open two safes.  Police theorized that one of the thieves hid in the building until after hours, then let his confederates into the building.  Although a precise accounting could not be taken while the police were still investigating, the initial estimate of the total loss was half a million in today's dollars.

The 1920's continued to see apparel firms occupy the building.  Among them were the Reliable Manufacturing House, Schockett Leather Goods, and the Royal Costume House.  One  tenant, however, was, perhaps, unexpected.  On July 3, 1922 The New York Times reported that Edward F. Cassidy, "a former alderman and the Socialist nominee for Mayor last year, was named as the party candidate for Governor by the Socialist State convention at 5 East Sixteenth Street yesterday."

The third quarter of the 20th century saw change come to the neighborhood.  In 1979 the Union Square Theater occupied space in the building, as the high-ceilinged lofts of the upper floors lured photography studios.  Among them was Frank Cowan, who shot ads for corporate clients like Levi's, Pampers and Volkswagen.  He took the top floor in 1970 when a handbag manufacturer moved out, paying $550 per month rent.

Unfortunately for tenants like Cowan, landlords took full advantage of the increasingly trendy tenor of the neighborhood.  In 1981 when his lease expired, Leon Sutton raised his rent to $2,000 per month.

By now the internal connections with 85 Fifth Avenue had been closed off.  In 1987 the Manhattan Cooking Center, a culinary school that offered tastings and lectures, occupied space.  And for years starting around 1994 Ann Sack's Tile and Stone showroom was in the ground floor space.

A renovation in 2008 resulted in apartments on the fourth, fifth, and seventh through twelfth floors--one per floor.

photographs by the author

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

The Lost Hotel Majestic - 115 Central Park West

 

When this photograph was taken in 1929, the monumental structure was scheduled for demolition.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Born in Rothenkirchen, Germany, Jacob Rothschild arrived in New York City at the age of 13 in 1856, "a fatherless boy," as The New York Times later commented.  The boy immediately went to work in a millinery store on Grand Street where he learned the business.  He saved his money for ten years, and then then struck out on his own, opening his own small shop.

By the time he retired from the millinery business around 1880, he had amassed a fortune.  He now turned his attention to real estate and in 1890 began what would be his crowning achievement in that field.   He started buying up the vacant plots along Central Park West between 71st and 72nd Street.  Finally, on January 24, 1891, the Record & Guide reported that he had acquired the last of the 12 lots.  "By these purchases, Mr. Rothschild secures the block front of 500 feet by a depth on each street of 150 feet.  On the plot Mr. Rothschild will erect, it is said, a fourteen-story hotel."

If Rothschild's grandiose plan seemed far-fetched to some, it did not phase him.  In May the Record & Guide updated its readers, saying that Alfred Zucker had filed plans for the $1 million "family hotel"--the staggering cost around 29 times that much today.  "It will be the most important improvement of years on the west side," said the article.

Construction on the Hotel Majestic took three years.  Guests entered the 30-foot wide main entrance on 72nd Street into a marble-lined lobby, or "main hall."  The 10,000-square-foot main dining room was on the 71st Street side of the first floor.   Also on the first floor were "the usual parlor, drawing-rooms, reception and billiard-rooms, with private dining-room and ball-room," according to the Record & Guide.

The main hall included a stained glass skylight, marble walls, a frescoed ceiling and grand marble staircase.  photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Its 12 stories were the equivalent of 14 floors in height.  That, of course, required elevators and there were seven of them--four for passengers and three for freight.   The Record & Guide described the finishes as being "of the finest description, marbles, hardwoods, bronze, brass and metal work of other kinds."  Architecture and Building applauded the arrival of a "first-class family hotel for the upper west side."  The article said, "The rooms in most cases will be rented in suites of drawing-room, bed-r0om and bath-room, or of five rooms, as the case may be."  In all there were 560 rooms and 268 bath-rooms.

On December 27, 1894 the Hotel Majestic was formally opened with, as reported by The New York Times, "a ball, for which 1,000 invitations were sent out by the guests and management of the hotel."  The article said, "The Colonial drawing room, the Empire room, and the large open hall were thrown open for the ball.  Music was furnished by the regular hotel orchestra in the conservatory.  Supper was served in the Winter garden from 10 o'clock until the end of the dance."

Munsey's Magazine described the massive hotel saying it "is certainly big enough to quarter a regiment."  The New York Times suggested that Rothschild intended for the Hotel Majestic to rival "in appointments and appearance" the Dakota Apartments directly across the street.  True or not, the two substantial structures formed an imposing gateway to Central Park.

In the background of this postcard of Central Park skaters the Hotel Majestic and Dakota Apartments vie for attention.

The Hotel Majestic accepted both transient and permanent guests.  Mrs. Horace Chenery took a suite here in the summer of 1899 on the advice of her doctor, William B. Pritchard, who lived nearby on West 73rd Street.

The 25-year-old's husband worked downtown in the Havemeyer Building.  They had been married for three years and "established themselves in a handsome home on Beach Avenue, Larchmont, where they entertained a great deal."  In March 1891 Mrs. Chenery had a baby daughter and developed what today we recognize as postpartum depression.  The New York Times said, "her illness developed into melancholia in an aggravated form, among the symptoms being a suicidal mania."

Dr. Pritchard recommended she be moved into a suite in the Hotel Majestic "where she could be under his constant care."  Two live-in nurses were on constant duty.   Each took an eight-hour shift.  

from the collection of the Library of Congress

At 3:30 on the morning of September 23 Mary Arbuckle was sitting in her patient's room, watching over her.  The other nurse, Miss Cox, was asleep.  "Miss Arbuckle left the bedside for a moment and stepped into an adjoining room for a glass of water...When the nurse returned to the room a moment later she was horrified to see Mrs. Chenery's bed empty and the window open," reported the New York Herald.  She looked out the window to see Mrs. Chenery's body, clad in her nightgown, on the sidewalk.

The tragedy of Mrs. Chenery was, indeed, an exception to the goings-on in the upscale hotel.  It was a favorite among the artistic community--most notably musicians.  On February 9, 1902, Jacob Rothschild hosted a dinner for the "artists of the Metropolitan Opera Company and several dramatic artists and their friends who are staying at the Majestic," according to The New York Times.  It placed the cost of the dinner at more than $61,000 by today's terms.  "Favors for the ladies consisted of bouquets of violets and orchids, each bouquet costing $20.  The souvenirs were miniature grand pianos, and the menus were of pink satin caught up with pearl tops."

The main dining room.  photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The great Austrian conductor and composer Felix Mottl was a guest of the hotel the following year.  He had just finished dinner in the grill room in the lower level on the evening of November 13, 1903 when, according to The New York Times, "he heard a burst of sound that made the walls of the spacious lobby echo."  Heinrich Conreid, the director of the Metropolitan Opera, had brought the entire opera orchestra into the lobby as a surprise reception.  

"The lobby, with the musicians sitting on one side, and gaily-dressed guests almost surrounding them, presented a brilliant sight.  Many eminent operatic stars were present, among them Mme. Gadski, Anton Von Rooy, Alfred Hertz, and Andreas Dipple," said the article.

An advertisement in 1904 boasted, "this hotel is singularly blessed with light and air...Every window offers a new panorama of delightful vistas."  It noted, "When the Hotel Majestic was erected men said the owner must be crazy to go so far up town.  It was the wisest forethought possible.  To-day this is the choicest residential spot in America."

In the warm months, guests and New Yorkers in general enjoyed the roof garden.  In its November 1899 issue, Munsey's Magazine recalled, "The Majestic was the first hotel to inaugurate a roof garden."

Munsey's Magazine, November 1899 (copyright expired)

On December 21, 1907 Austro-Bohemian composer Gustav Mahler and his wife, Alma, checked in.  The hotel provided two grand pianos for their 11th-floor suite where they remained for more than a year.   According to the Mahler Foundation's website, "It was from this apartment that Mahler [in February 1908] heard the muffled drum strokes of a funeral cortege that he later used in Symphony No. 10."

The Mahlers would be among many distinguished company in the Hotel Majestic.  Other well-known guests over the years included actress Sarah Bernhardt, operatic tenor Enrico Caruso and novelist Edna Ferber.  Lesser-known today were residents like actress Fanny Ward, a sensation on both the New York and London stages at the time.

Jacob Rothschild died on April 4, 1911.  In reporting his death The New York Times commented, "The Majestic Hotel was probably the greatest of his building undertakings."

The proprietorship was taken over by Copeland Townsend who made a few, subtle changes.  He renovated the roof garden, naming it the Hurricane Deck.  It opened on June 18, 1917 and The Hotel Monthly noted, "The Majestic Hotel in New York City employs a social censor to free its dancing floor of undesirables."

The war that was spreading across Europe in 1917 had effects on the Hotel Majestic.  On March 12 The New York Times reported, "Declaring that the tense situation between Germany and America makes it imperative that no society of Teutonic origin hold meetings of any nature at this time, Copeland Townsend, owner of the Hotel Majestic, yesterday asked Friedrich Michel, head of the German Society, to cancel reservations for the ballroom of the hotel, where the society has been holding its meetings."

At an earlier meeting in the hotel, Maria A. Stappert, a former Bryn Mawr student, criticized the current German "economic, social and moral conditions."  Dr. John A. Mandel, who was in the audience, wrote to the Ministerial Director in Berlin, according to The New York Times, "asking that she be suppressed."

Townsend wanted no more political controversy in his hotel.  He mentioned to a reporter, "It strikes me, that if every member of the society is an American, the name of the society should be changed to the 'American Society.'"

He was understandably more welcoming to The American Defense Rifle Club--an organization of women formed to defend the city while its men were away at war.  On April 7, 1917 work on installing a gun range on the roof began.  The New York Times explained, "The club was organized by Mrs. June Haughton, an expert rifle shot, and it is planned to teach women how to use rifles expertly."

Life returned to normal after the war and the Hurricane Roof was open for dancing again in the summers.   The unused southern rooftop gained new life in 1920 when it became an artists colony.  On April 18 The New York Times reported, "A group of New York artists are going to establish a 'Bohemia-in-the-Clouds,' and plans and specifications have been drawn up and contracts let for a group of skylight bungalows on the roof of the Hotel Majestic."

Copeland Townsend confirmed the rumors.  The article said the "aerial Macdougal Alley will consist of a series of fireproof studios, some to be used only for working purposes and others for homes."  Some of the artists who had already signed leases were relocating for the project.  Sculptor Prince Paul Troubetzkoy was currently in California, artists Frank Godwin and Ray Rohn were both living in Philadelphia, and illustrator Dean Cornwell was moving in from Leonia, New Jersey.  The New York Times noted, "Brinkerhoff, Webster and Briggs will have studio room there, but will live elsewhere."

Guests to the hotel in 1925 would have enjoyed the latest in decorative style.  

photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

A significant transformation to Central Park West began in 1928 as plans were begun for no fewer than four massive Art Deco Apartment buildings facing Central Park.  On December 21, 1928 The New York Times reported, "Negotiations are reported to be well advanced for the sale of the Hotel Majestic."  The article added, "the buyers will demolish the structure, which was one of the first hotels erected in Central Park West."

Four months later the Chanin Construction Company announced plans for a 45-story replacement building to cost the equivalent of $239 million today.  Designed by Irwin S. Chanin and Jacques Delamarre, the twin-towered Art Deco structure was named The Majestic as a nod to its illustrious predecessor.

photograph by David Shankbone

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

Alfred Zucker's 1892 246 Greene Street (a.k.a. 20-22 Waverly Place)

By the 1830's the neighborhood around Greene Street and Waverly Place, a block west of Washington Square, had filled with elegant mansions.  On November 16, 1890 publisher Martin Young heard a noise in his cellar of his home at No. 22 Waverly Place.  Upon investigating he caught four boys aged 10 through 15 in the process of stealing brass.  Their names reflected the changing demographics of the area--Angelo Teeini, Sebastian Farconelli, Joseph Cella and Giovanni Lafarzia.

That was not all that was changing as the century drew to a close.  Loft buildings were rapidly replacing residences and  Young's was among the last of the private homes still surviving.  

A month earlier, on October 25, 1890, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide published a supplement entitled "The New Mercantile District" which began saying "The sudden impulse given to building improvements in the section of the city that lies in the vicinity of Washington square has been generally observed during the past two or three years."  One of the most visible architects in the movement was Alfred Zucker.  Within a two year period between 1891 and 1893 he would design Nos. 12, 18, 24-26, and 28-30 Waverly Place, and the massive stone structure at the corner of Waverly Place and Greene Street, No. 246 Greene (which would engulf the site of Young's house), all of them within a single block.

He designed No. 246 Greene Street for developer Simon Goldenberg.  The plans, filed in February 1891, called for an 8-story "brick, iron and stone warehouse" to cost $140,000 (or just over $4 million today).  Completed in 1892, it was an imposing blend of Renaissance Revival and Romanesque Revival styles.

Each section of the tripartite design was delineated by an intermediate cornice.  Zucker made ample use of brownstone quoins at the ground floor, then used dark brown brick at the second and third floors to imitate stone blocks.  The ruse was continued on the fourth through sixth floor to create the appearance of quoins around the three-story arches.  The openings of the two-story upper section were grouped within arched cast iron frames; the piers between them decorated with terra cotta bands and rosettes.

The building became home to Asch & Jaeckel, wholesale furriers, whose large operation filled the entire building.  The salesrooms were on the ground floor with factory, design and office spaces above.

An advertisement boasted that the firm "completely occupied" the building.  Fur Trade Review, June 1892 (copyright expired)

Just as apparel firms do today, Asch & Jaeckel used live "fit models" when working on new items.  Soon after moving into their new accommodations it placed an advertisement in The Sun on June 24, 1892 seeking "Young Lady as figure; 36 bust; none other need apply."

By 1895 the firm had branched out into other forms of women's apparel, as well.  On February 17 it advertised for "Drapers, experienced on Waists and Suits."  (Waists, or shirtwaists, were a tailor blouse and the most popular item of women's apparel in the 1890's.)

Furriers were frequent targets for sneak thieves and November 30, 1897 Asch & Jaeckel was a victim.  That day Detective Sergeants Aloncle and Carey noticed two notorious criminals, Annie Drayton, alias May Murray or "Big May," and Flossie Maitland in Madison Square.  When the women hailed a hansom cab, the cops followed.   The New York Times reported "The women stopped at the fur store of Asch & Jaeckel...and after remaining inside about fifteen minutes re-entered the cab and drove to the fur store of Adolph Frimal, 1,713 Broadway.  Here they also staid but a few minutes and, coming out, ordered the cabman to drive to an up-town hotel."

Before that happened, however, Sergeant Carey commandeered the cab and ordered the driver to go to Police Headquarters.  Once there the vehicle was searched.  "Two sealskin sacques [i.e., short jackets] were found concealed under the seat, and the matron found a valuable cape concealed on the person of 'Big May.'"  The Times said that Annie Drayton was "considered one of the cleverest shoplifters in the country."  The two jackets taken from Asch & Jaeckel were valued at $327, about $10,400 in today's money.

Both women were able to raise the staggering $3,000 bail through a bondsman.  But when their court date rolled around in March 1898, they had disappeared.  The bondsman was given twenty-four hours to produce them, but when he returned to court on March 10 "he admitted that he could not find them," reported the New York Herald.  The judge ordered that the bail be forfeited--costing the man more than $95,000 in today's money.

While the drama played out, Joseph J. Asch and Hugo Jaeckel parted ways.  Each established his own firm.  Jaeckel moved to No. 37 Union Square and Asch erected his own handsome building at Nos. 23-29 Washington Place.  The Asch Building would become a part of American labor history on March 25, 1911 when 145 women workers in the Triangle Waist Company, locked into rooms on the top three floors, perished.

The building vacated by Asch & Jaeckel now filled with hat manufacturers and apparel-related tenants, among them hat manufacturer M. S. Mork & Co., which sought "Straw Hat Operators" in November 1899.  The ad promised "We guarantee $7.80 to $12 a week, ten months' season; good operators can earn double their guarantee."  The higher end of the range would be about $382 per week today.  Also in the hat business were Higson & Co., "manufacturers of fur hats," and William Read & Co.

In 1902, following the death of Simon Goldenberg, his estate sold the property.  The change of landlords did not affect the tenant list.  Taylor & Seeley were selling agents for out-of-town hat makers like Beltaire Bros. & Co. of Danbury, Connecticut and the Gilman Hat Company of Haverhill, Massachusetts.

The American Hatter, February 1902 (copyright expired)

The wealth of the partners of Taylor & Seeley was evidenced in April 1903 when E. S. Seeley listed his home on Bedford Avenue for sale.  The 25-foot wide, three story brownstone had 16 rooms and three baths, along with an Otis elevator.  He described his home as "handsome, luxurious, convenient and up to date."

Sharing the building with Taylor & Seeley were S. Alsberg & Co. and Alsberg & Moritz, both clothing manufacturers; and Lasky & Levi, makers of caps.  In 1906 the two related firms of S. Alsberg & Co. and Alsberg & Moritz combined to create Moritz, Alsberg & Co.  

The firms would remain in the building until about 1912, joined in 1909 by Pursch & Co., clothing makers; and H. Hauptman & Co., in 1910.

In 1912 the tenant list included Goldfinger & Katz, whose workforce of 35 made cloaks; J. L. Alberts, makers of cotton underwear (it employed 4 men, 45 women, and three children that year); and Tochterman & Schehr, makers of leather purses and bags.

In 1914 the 36-year old widow Annie Feinman had worked for J. L. Alberts for about four and a half years.  She earned $1.50 per day (just under $40 today) as a sewer.  Possibly distracted from her work for a moment on September 11 that year, she drove the needle of her machine through her left ring finger.   When blood poisoning later set in, the top part of finger was amputated.

Annie, her doctor, her supervisor and the doctor's nurse were summoned to answer a barrage of questioning by the State Workmen's Compensation Commission a month later after she filed for benefits.  The doctor was asked, for example, if Annie showed evidence of alcoholism, hypochondria, hysteria or malingering.  She was eventually awarded $10.26 in March 1915.

The personal lives of well-to-do citizens were fodder for juicy newspaper articles at the time.  Harry Long ran a trimmings business in the building in 1915 when his wife, Florence, suspected him of sexual dalliances.  She hired private detectives to follow him and their findings became luridly public in January 1916 when Florence took him to court.

Much of Zucker's original cast iron storefronts survive along street level.

The Sun entitled an article on January 4 "Mysterious Blonde In Long Divorce Case" which began "A mysterious 'blond woman, 5 feet 6 inches tall, aged 30 and weighing 125 pounds,' has been found guilty of improper conduct with Harry Long."  The article continued, "she and Long went to the Terra Marine Hotel, Huguenot Park, Staten Island, Saturday, June 19, and remained until the following Sunday night."

The scandal no doubt had a detrimental effect on Long's business.  Additionally, he was ordered to pay $200 a month for support of the three children, whom he was allowed to see one-half day each week.

Following World War I the apparel business migrated northward, past 34th Street.  In the 1930's the Greene Street building was home to Howard Failing, a wholesale paper dealer.  Like Harry Long, the scurrilous details of his divorce were widely published in newspapers.  But in his case, it was his wife, Flora, who was the inconstant lover.

Around 1934 the Failings moved to the upscale suburban neighborhood of Scarsdale, New York.  A neighbor, Ruby T. Brewster, wife of Le Roy Brewster, testified that things had been going well in her marriage until the Failings moved in.  Then, in November 1935 "My husband left to go to Florida, presumably to be in a warmer climate on account of his sinus trouble.  However, he left with a woman, Mrs. Failing."

Flora divorced Howard Failing in the summer of 1936; and in the spring of 1937 Ruby, "citing a honey-haired ex-neighbor as the case of all the trouble," sued her husband for divorce.   On April 29, 1937 the Daily News said that Ruby Brewster, "a Westchester matron with strong feelings about blondes, clamped a legal stranglehold yesterday on the $1,000,000 moneybags of her hubby."  The article noted that Ruby was trying to beat her husband to filing for divorce to keep him from cutting her off from his wealth.

Any prospect of more scandal related to marital discord in the Green Street building ended in 1946, when New York University converted it to class rooms.  Known today as Kimball Hall, it houses computer labs, lecture and classrooms and a student lounge.

photographs by the author

The Lost Cohnfeld Building - Bleecker and Greene Streets

By the time this photo was taken the mansard had lost its architecturally important ironwork.  from the collection of The Alexander Architectural Archive, the University of Texas as Austin

In the last quarter of the 19th century women's hat styles included artificial flowers, berries and, often, a profusion of feathers.  The fashion for feathers became so intense that whole species of birds became endangered for their plumage.  Taking center stage in the New York feature industry was Isidor Cohnfeld, called by The Sun "the king of the feather trade."

Most of these women's millinery fashions in 1880 included feathers--one, in the center, has an entire stuffed bird. The Queen, The Lady's Newspaper, December 11, 1880 (copyright expired)

Cohnfeld was born in Germany in 1845, but grew up in England.  He arrived in New York around 1865.  The St. Paul Daily Globe said of him 20 year later, "He is essentially a self-made man, and by superior business talents has accumulated a large fortune."  The New York Times attributed his vast wealth to his business "as an importer on an immense scale of feathers and other articles with which women are wont to deck themselves."

Indeed, by the time of the article Cohnfeld was the largest feather dealer in New York and operated branches in London and Paris.  He lived in a lavish mansion at No. 56 West 57th Street and, like several other millionaires, was known for his thoroughbred horses.  His payments of $25,000 for the stallion Maxey Cobb and $15,000 for Helene, gained him "much prominence in horse circles," according to The New York Times in 1887.  The St. Paul Daily Globe described his private stable on the corner of 58th Street and Park Avenue as "palatial" and said it was fitted up "with smoking apartments and rooms for his master of the horse."

On February 16, 1884 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that architect Alfred Zucker had filed plans for a seven-story "brick, iron and stone front warehouse" for Cohnfeld, to cost $225,000--around $5.68 million today.  But what was more surprising than the enormous price was the location, on the southeast corner of Bleecker and Greene Streets.  The neighborhood had, for several years, been a center of brothels, lawless dives and gambling dens.

Zucker's original renderings show a profusion of lacy ironwork, stone urns and other decorations on the uppermost floors.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide (copyright expired)

Looking back in 1898 the Record & Guide's A History of Real Estate, Building and Architecture explained that the new "Mercantile District" (today known as Noho) was kick-started by the Cohnfeld Building and prompted by its architect.

"The creation of the new locality may be said to have commenced in February 1884, when the Cohnfeld Building was erected at the southeast corner of Bleecker and Greene streets.  This was the pioneer structure, for which Mr. Alfred Zucker was responsible not only for the plans, but for the selection of site.  The friends of the owner and many experienced real estate men regarded the placing of such a building in such a position as a foolish and ill-considered step--the reputation of the place was so bad and its advantages for commercial purposes were so far from being appreciated."

The completed building opened onto Greene Street.   The Sun (which claimed the construction costs had risen to $400,000) said "It was [Cohnfeld's] boast that he would have the finest and lightest lofts that there were in this city for his 500 girls to work in, and he spared no cost to get them."  The New York Times described the building as "The finest feather factory in the world," and the St. Paul Daily Globe said "It is a model of architectural beauty inside and outside, and one of the highest in New York, as it towers seven feet higher than the Equitable building on Broadway."

Here young women were employed in sewing, trimming, bleaching and dying feathers.  While The Sun placed the number of  workers at 500, another newspaper said "He employs over 1000 persons at his works in this city."  Given the scale of the structure, the number most likely fell somewhere between those estimates.

Unbeknownst to Cohnfeld, at the time of the triumphant opening of his impressive factory his days of hobnobbing with Vanderbilts and Shepards at the race track were coming to an end.   His millions began drying up; many in financial circles blaming the high cost of the Cohnfeld Building for his money troubles.  The newspapers which had recently praised the structure now universally called it "Cohnfeld's Folly."

A panicked Cohnfeld began selling off property in the spring of 1886.  He sold a loft building one block south of the Cohnfeld Building at the corner of Greene and Houston Streets in May that year for $70,000, for instance.


Then, on November 4, 1887 The Sun ran the headline: Where Is Isidor Cohnfeld?  The article began, "Isidor Cohnfeld, the well-known dealer in ostrich feathers, has had the reputation of being a very rich man.  He was supposed to be the biggest dealer in the country in ostrich plumes.  It is reported that he has left town, and under mysterious circumstances."  The article noted "It is alleged that Mr. Cohnfeld has disposed of his horses and that his business has been conducted for some days by his bookkeeper and by Mr. Periam, formerly his manager."

Servants who came to the door at the West 57th Street mansion "refused to give any information regarding Mr. Cohnfeld's whereabouts."  An employee provided an excuse, saying Cohnfeld's "health had been failing of late, and that he was seeking a rest by advice of his physician."

But the press was not buying the story.  The following day The New York Times said "He was last seen down town about a week ago, and then seemed to be perfectly well."  The newspaper added, "He is said to be in the vicinity of Niagara Falls, a resort that is close, as most people are aware, to the Canadian boarder."  The implication that Cohnfeld was on the run from his creditors was clear.

It was discovered that Cohnfeld had sold his nearly-new building to Leon Mendel, a partner in the Chicago-based real estate firm of Mendel Brothers, for $350,000.  Shortly before his disappearance, he had essentially liquidated his stock of feathers "at ruinous prices," according to The Sun.   And true to The Times' insinuation, before long Isidor Cohnfeld crossed the Canadian border, reportedly with a satchel containing over $250,000 in cash.

The Mendel Brothers leased the entire Cohnfeld Building to Alfred Benjamin & Co.  The firm was described by the South Carolina newspaper The Abbeville Press and Hammer as "probably the largest manufacturer of fine ready made men's clothing in this country."  Like Isidor Cohnfeld, the firm employed hundreds of mostly immigrant laborers.

With the introduction of labor unions in the last years of the 19th century, businessmen like Alfred Benjamin were compelled to make difficult decisions.  He tried, initially, to keep arm's length from the problem.

On July 11, 1890 The Times reported that the cutters' union had boycotted the goods of Alfred Benjamin & Co. "because the firm had refused to interfere between its men and the union.  Mr. Benjamin had been requested to compel some of his men to pay dues that they were said to owe to the union, and he replied that that was none of his business, and that as long as these men did their work properly he would give them work."

Begrudgingly, Benjamin came to a costly compromise with the union.  In December "after a long fight," he paid the union $2,500 "for expenses incurred in fighting the firm."

Alfred Benjamin's problems would become far worse than labor friction four months later.  Smoke was seen wafting from a sidewalk grate just after 5:00 on  March 17, 1891.  The hundreds of workers inside were preparing to leave for the day.  The first alarm was turned in at 5:20, a second five minutes later, and then three others in rapid succession.

The New York Times reported that from its opening there were those who considered the building a fire hazard.  "The building known as 'Cohnfeld's Folly'...appeared to be one of the most solidly-constructed buildings in the city, and the general impression among those who saw it after it was put up was that it was fireproof.  But those who saw it erected were of the opinion that a fire once started below would, unless mastered at the first floor, sweep through the whole building and destroy it."  Fire Chief Charles O. Shay said "It's a timber stack with enough wood in it to build a small town."

The conflagration rose throughout the building.  The St. Paul Daily Globe reported "Suddenly, with hardly a moment's notice, the flames shot their way up through the building, and burst through the roof in a blaze that could be seen for miles about.  Then every floor was attacked by the devouring element, until from sub-basement to roof the magnificent building was a fiery furnace.  The firemen in the street below were like pigmies [sic] battling with a giant."

The fire spread, eventually engulfing nearly the entire block.   The following morning The Sun's headline read "Two Millions Burned Up.  The Dance of the Flames Begins in Cohnfeld's Folly."  And the sub-headline continued "Building After Building in Bleecker Street Goes Up with a Beautiful Display."  With unexpected callousness, the headline added "Benjamin's Gone--Where will the Men Get their Summer Clothes This Year?"

On the morning of March 18 nearly the entire block--ten buildings in all--was a charred ruins.  The Cohnfeld Building was completely destroyed only seven years after its completion.

An unexpected twist soon occurred.  Although there were no reports of any fatalities in the Cohnfeld Building fire, a specter was reportedly seen among the ruins soon after.  Within days long crowds of curious ghost-hunters lined the street hoping for a sighting.

On April 10, 1891 The New York Sun reported "The Bleecker street ghost drew as large a 'house' last night as Barnum's Circus or any of the theaters.  There was a bigger crowd about 'Cohnfeld's Folly' than there was three weeks ago when the flames gutted the buildings from Mercer to Green streets...The wraith was not due till midnight, but the street was packed with watchers as early as 9 o'clock."

The newspaper reported that the throng was so dense that pedestrians could not make their way along Bleecker Street and that twice policemen "descended on the mob and routed it."  Five minutes after the police left, the crowd reassembled.  The spirit was illusive, however.  On April 14 The Evening World reported "The people who have been watching a week for a sight of the Bleecker street ghost are getting discouraged.  Ghosts, by the way, are never around when wanted."

Interestingly enough, Mendel Brothers commissioned Alfred Zucker to design the replacement building.  Construction of the six-story structure began in September 1892.  That building was demolished in 1957 as part of the massive Washington Square Village apartment complex.

photo by Tayler MacMillan via nyunews.com

The Elbridge T. Gerry Stable - 41 East 62nd Street

In 1914 the old brownstones to the right had been demolished for a modern structure.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

William H. Tillinghast and his wife, Phoebe, moved into a newly-completed, Queen Anne style home at No 26 East 64th Street in 1882.   Two blocks south, at No. 41 East 62nd Street, was their private stable.

The Tillinghasts' architecturally up-to-date house signaled changes to come in the blocks east of Central Park.  As millionaires moved north of 59th Street, the old post-Civil War brownstones were giving way to upscale residences.  Few, however, would compete with the massive brick and stone chateau of Elbridge T. Gerry.

The completed chateau was "simply comfortable."  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The millionaire lawyer was, perhaps, best known for founding of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.  Construction of his immense mansion on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 61st Street commenced in 1892 and would continue for four years.  Designed by Richard Morris Hunt, it would be one of the largest and most lavish of Fifth Avenue residences.  Nevertheless, Gerry insisted it was "simply a comfortable modern home."

As the Gerry mansion took shape in April 1894. William Tillinghast sold his brownstone-fronted stable to S. Fischer Johnson.  The price was listed at "about $19,000."  That amount with be equal to about $547,000 today. 

Johnson soon purchased the 17-foot wide house directly next door at No. 39.  But his interest in the properties appear to have been purely in their lucrative possibilities.  On April 20, 1896 he bought two other houses along the row, Nos. 35 and 37.  On that very day he sold the old Tillinghast stable along with No. 39 to Elbridge T. Gerry.  Gerry paid $20,000 for the stable and $25,500 for the house--a total of $1.34 million in today's dollars.

Four weeks later architect Alfred Zucker filed plans for a "three story brick stable" with a "slate and tile roof" for Gerry.   The $50,000 projected cost, $1.47 million by today's standards, and more than equaled the price of a new home for most well-to-do families.

Zucker produced a sophisticated blend of neo-Tudor and Gothic Revival.  The centered carriage bay sat below an elliptically-arched Gothic drip molding.  The Tudor-inspired openings of the upper floors were framed in stone and the slate-tiled mansard was overwhelmed by a massive gable.  Here an oculus sat within a carved stone wreath.  Zucker returned to Gothic for the crowning detail--a carved heraldic shield which upheld a stone crocket.

The expansive upper floor would have been home to the most important of Gerry's stable staff--his coachmen and their families, for instance.  Although, on one hand, being provided with living quarters could be considered a perk of the job; on the other it was a concession to the wealthy employer.  Having one's carriage drivers living above the stable meant they were on call 24 hours per day and millionaires like Gerry did not need to worry about getting around whatever the hour.   Another down side for the families living here was the noise and the odors wafting upward.

The operation of a private stable like this one required a large staff--stable boys who changed the hay and cleaned the stalls, grooms who bathed, fed and otherwise maintained the horses, and workers who cleaned and repaired the many vehicles.  The Gerry carriage house would have been a bustling hive of activity.

Elbridge and Louisa Gerry remained in their Fifth Avenue mansion for the rest of their lives; Louisa dying first in March 1920.  By then horse-drawn vehicles were nearly gone from the streets of New York City.  The following year the Gerry stable was converted to a garage, with a "dwelling for one family" on the top floor.

It was probably Robert Livingston Gerry, the oldest son, who was responsible for the make-over.  His father was 83-years old at the time and most likely little interested in such projects.   The top floor apartment became home to Robert's chauffeur, Archibald Day.

Robert Gerry was married to Cornelia Averell Harriman, the daughter of railroad tycoon E. H. Harriman.  On Tuesday night, January 29, 1924 Cornelia and their nine-year old son were in the family's limousine as Day drove them through the rural roads near Beacon, New York.

Further up the road 22-year old Gaeto Denze's automobile had broken down in the roadway.  He and another man were attempting to fix it as the Gerry car approached from behind.  Day was unable to pass on the left because of an approaching truck.  Rather than stop and wait, he passed on the right.  Denze, perhaps trying to get out of the way of the truck, suddenly moved directly into the path of the Gerry limo and was struck.

Cornelia Gerry jumped from the car and helped to give first aid to the injured man.  She had Day put him into the limousine and take him to Highland Hospital.  His injuries, however, were severe.  He died of a fractured skull the following day.
 
Archibald Day was charged with homicide and paroled to Cornelia's custody.  She appeared as a witness in his defense on January 31.  She told the Coroner's Court that Day did not see Denza dart from behind the stalled car until it was too late.  "It was dark and we did not see any light," she said.

The Gerry garage in 1926 was hemmed in by taller structures.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

In 1944 the Gerry family ceased using No. 41 as its garage and leased it the Central Synagogue Congregation for use as its Community House.   Exactly 10 years later the Gerry family commissioned J. B. Snook Sons to design a replacement.

photo via Google Street View

While the Landmarks Preservation Commission calls the project a remodeling; the gut renovation apparently left nothing of the original structure but party walls and foundation.  So sweeping was the project that the Department of Buildings deemed it a "new building."  Whichever, the architectural firm replaced the handsome carriage house with an extremely handsome neo-Federal residence.  It was briefly home to Robert L. Gerry's son, Elbridge T. Gerry, before being converted to offices in 1948.  Today is is home to the Gerry Foundation.

Alfred Zucker's 1892 Nos. 409-411 Lafayette Street

In 1891 Simon Goldenberg seems to have been less focused on his lace importing business than in real estate development.  He embarked on several projects to erect modern loft buildings in the Lafayette Place area.

In the early decades of the century Lafayette Place had been Manhattan’s most exclusive residential neighborhood—home to wealthy citizens with names like Astor, Delano, Vanderbilt and Schermerhorn.  At mid-century No. 24 Lafayette Place was the site of the Samuel Willets residence.  But by the 1870s millionaires had migrated northward and one-by-one the mansions fell.

On March 21, 1891 the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported that Alfred Zucker was designing an “eight-story fire-proof building” to be erected at Nos. 24 and 26 Lafayette Place for Goldenberg.  The article noted “It will be planned for a printing and lithographing establishment, and we understand a lease has already been taken.”

Within a month Goldenberg had acquired the abutting property at No. 22 and revised his plans.  Zucker was set to work designing a six-story building at Nos. 22 and 24, and a harmonious structure next door at No. 26.  The “brick, iron, stone, and terra cotta” buildings were projected to cost $160,000 and $120,000—in the neighborhood of $4.3 million for the wider edifice.

The buildings were completed in 1892.  Zucker designed them in the Northern Renaissance Revival style.  Interestingly, while the main structures matched perfectly, Zucker avoided creating the impression of a single building by treating the cornices differently.  The result was a somewhat confusing asymmetry.

The district cornice treatments of the two buildings resulted in a somewhat off-kilter appearance.

Clothing manufacturers filled the narrower building at No. 26.  In 1896 David Bros. & Co. was here, manufacturing "boys' and children's" clothing; and Joseph S. Blatt & Co. made a "general line" of apparel.  The same year Marx & Frenkel produced "summer clothing" and Kleinman, Yohn & Co. made men's and youths' apparel.

Simon Goldenberg died in 1897; however his family retained possession.  In December 1901 architect Albert S. Gottlieb filed plans for alterations that included “new plumbing, improving present elevators, skylights, light prisms, etc.”   Among the tenants in the buildings were a men’s clothing manufacturer and George L. Storm & Co., a manufacturer, retailer and distributor of cigars.

In 1905 Lafayette Place was extended, renamed Lafayette Street, and renumbered.  Nos. 22-26 became Nos. 409-413.    

George L. Storm & Co. occupied space in the southern building, Nos. 409-411.  Called by the trade journal The Tobacco Leaf in 1908 “among the large retailers of New York,” the firm faced a crisis in 1907.  Although good cigars were an obligatory accessory to wealthy gentlemen, the Financial Panic of 1907 threatened the purveyors of luxury goods.  But George L. Storm & Co.’s moderately-priced cigars carried the firm through.

The Yale Literary Magazine, May 1908 (copyright expired)

The Tobacco Leaf noted on May 6, 1908 “Notwithstanding the general trade depression of the past six months, George L. Storm & Co. have succeeded in extending their business over the corresponding months of 1907, a fact that is attributed in the demand for staple brands of cigars.  That demand has steadily increased since the beginning of the October panic, and its continuation is unquestionably assured by the conditions of the trade at the present time.”

On October 16, 1911, Louis Schlesinger, Vice President of George L. Storm & Co., left his home at No. 240 West 102^nd Street, headed to work.  A diabetic, his physician had warned him several years earlier to retire.  The New York Times reported simply “He refused.”

As the 55-year old executive neared the door of No. 411 Lafayette Street, he collapsed to the sidewalk.  Within a “short time,” according to The Times, he was dead.

The cigar company was still in the building in 1915 when Louis Schlesinger’s brother, Siegmund, held the position of Treasurer and Director.  Home B. Lyon had taken over the Vice Presidency formerly held by Louis.

A sidewalk grating at the rear of the building was discovered by homeless men as a refuge from cold nights.  Here warm air wafted upward from the basement engine room.  It was the scene of tragedy on November 17, 1924 when unseasonal and unpredicted conditions slammed the city.   The following day The New York Times reported “The temperature dropped in fifteen hours from 48 to 18 degrees, the lowest mark recorded for any Nov. 17.  The wind reached a maximum of 68 miles an hour and most of the day varied between 50 and 60 miles an hour.”

Because the weather prediction had simply been “cooler,” no extreme conditions were expected, so the furnace at No. 411 Lafayette Street had not been fired up.  An elderly man sought out the grating; but this night there was no relieving warmth.  He was found dead from exposure the following morning.

“In the past [the grating] has saved many a life by providing a little heat for penniless and homeless men who have been unable to find any other shelter.  But last night’s cold snap had taken the city by surprise,” explained The Times.  “The old man lay down on the grating and found it as cold as the sidewalk.  He may have stayed there clinging to the hope that some heat would come up later.  At any rate, he stayed there until he died.”

The two-story base with its sumptuous decoration survives greatly intact.

The building was the scene of a terrifying hold-up attempt during the Great Depression.  On November 11, 1930 five armed men burst into the ground floor doll factory of E. I Horsman.  With pistols drawn, they demanded to know where the cash payroll was.

Cashier Philip Menger was in the rear office at the time.  He had just made up the $8,000 payroll when the robbers entered.  He quickly stashed the cash into the safe and locked it.  Five women employees, threatened with firearms, directed the thugs to the back office.

 But Menger refused to open the safe.  “I don’t know the combination.  Only the manager knows it, and he isn’t here.” 

Just when things could have become violent, an automobile horn sounded from outside.  A lookout signaled that a policeman was approaching.  A newspaper reported “The intruders pocketed their weapons, walked out to the automobile and drove away while the patrolman, who knew nothing of their attempt, watched them.”

For decades the combined buildings were home to a variety of businesses—the Columbus Metal Frame Co. in 1936; Belle Book Binding in 1939; and the Spencer Paper Company in 1946, among them.  In 1949 the plumbing accessories firm Durst Manufacturing Company unveiled its new “Styrofoam closet combination float, made of polystyrene.”  The home improvement produce was deemed “practically indestructible in use,” according to a spokesperson.

Prior to the 1987 renovation, the building had managed to survive without major alteration above the storefronts. photo by Edmund Vincent Gillon from the Collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Durst Manufacturing was still in the building in February 1987 when Meringoff Properties signed a 49-year lease with long-time owner Aredlo Realty Co.   Leslie Wohlman Himmel, partner in Meringoff Properties, announced that “rehabilitation will begin in April upon the departure of the current tenant, Durst Industries.”  The completed renovations resulted in 65,000 square feet of modern offices with 14,000 feet of retail space on the ground floor.

The façade, which had survived nearly intact even at street level, was handsomely restored; resulting in Alfred Zucker’s seemingly unbalanced building looking much as it did nearly 125 years ago.

many thanks to reader Benjamin George Friedman for requesting this post

photographs by the author