McKim, Mead & White's 2nd National Bank -- 250 5th Avenue

photo by Alice Lum

On March 4, 1902 The New York Times reported “Every one was shocked yesterday at the news from California of the death of Mrs. Frederic Goodridge.  Mrs. Goodridge died yesterday, and the news was telegraphed here immediately.”

The passing of Charlotte Matilda Grosvenor Goodridge was, as well, the passing of yet another of the last vestiges of old Fifth Avenue.  A leading figure in Manhattan society, she was the widow of Frederic Goodridge, a millionaire importer who had died in 1897.  Unlike most of her wealthy neighbors, she had remained in her great Fifth Avenue mansion, at the northwest corner of 28^th Street, refusing to surrender to the tide of commerce.

The Times remarked about the mansion saying “It is one of the few residences now in that part of Fifth Avenue, and it is a splendid specimen of a New York Mansion.”   Directly behind the house was “the magnificent stable occupying two lots in Twenty-eighth street.”

Almost immediately there was a question concerning the will.  Mrs. Goodridge had bequeathed the house and its contents “known as No. 250 Fifth avenue” to her five children.  Because the property was so specifically identified by the address, the question arose as to the disposition of the carriage house.  If the sprawling building were considered a separate property by law, it would go to her grandchildren; if it were deemed part of the house property, it would pass on to their parents.

A “friendly suit at law” kept the estate tied up for several years while the courts decided the matter.

In the meantime, Mrs. Goodridge’s mansion was leased to the Gimpel-Wildenstein Galleries by the family.  The firm dealt in fine art, selling European masterworks to Charlotte Goodridge’s former neighbors who were now living in lavish homes further north on the avenue.

All the while the Second National Bank had been doing business from the Fifth Avenue Hotel at the corner of 23^rd Street for four decades.  The bank catered to well-to-do depositors and its location in the fashionable hotel supported its high-end reputation.   But by 1907, the same year that the Goodridge estate was settled, there was a problem.  The Fifth Avenue Hotel was to be demolished.

On August 2, 1907 the real estate field took note when The New York Times reported that “The Goodridge estate has sold its holdings at the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and Twenty-eighth Street” for the startling price of  $1.1 million—nearly 18 times that much by today’s standards.

The purchaser was kept anonymous, to the frustration of real estate brokers.  “It is understood, however,” said The Times, “that a modern store, office and loft structure will be erected on the site by the new owner.”   Nearly a month later, on August 29, little more was known, but The Times provided a small update.  “Gossip in Fifth Avenue real estate circles yesterday threw considerable light on the mystery which has surrounded the recent sale of the Goodridge estate’s property…According to reports, the property has been bought by a prominent financial institution which will erect a new building on the site.”

The “prominent financial institution,” of course, was the Second National Bank which sought out the services of the eminent architectural firm McKim, Mead & White to design a structure appropriate to the neighborhood.   By now the firm was among the most prestigious in the country, responsible for important structures like Madison Square Garden, the Metropolitan Club, the Brooklyn Museum and the nearby Washington Arch.   While the firm retained the name McKim, Mead & White, the great Stanford White was out of the picture, having been murdered a year earlier.

The Times remarked on the choice of the location and the changes in Fifth Avenue.  “In selecting a Fifth Avenue site the Second National has only followed the tendency, which has already led nearly a dozen banks and trust companies to establish main offices of branches on that thoroughfare, and which promises to make the avenue’s financial importance second only to its prominence as a centre of retail trade.”

On October 18, 1907 the architects filed plans for a “five story and basement office and bank building.”  The arcane description filed with Buildings Superintendent Murphy noted “facades of limestone at the first story and brick with trimmings of terra cotta above.”  The projected cost was $140,000.

By December the Goodridge mansion and carriage house were gone and the foundation was being dug.  Reports of the coming building were more concerned with the amenities than the architecture.   “The basement story, which will be surrounded by an open area, will be faced with granite,” reported The Times. “Throughout the first story the facades will be of granite and above that of light colored face brick with trimmings of terra cotta.”

sketch from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Accounts failed to mention the style.  What would result was a five-story Italian Renaissance palazzo that would have been equally comfortable sitting among the mansions of upper Fifth Avenue as with the commercial buildings here.  Arched entrances along 28^th Street and on Fifth Avenue were edged with heavy stone voussoirs.  The second floor windows were capped by alternating peaked and arched pediments and a stately bracketed cornice topped it all.

The altered mansion next door to the new bank building would soon be engulfed by an addition -- NYPL Collection

Although the main entrance to the banking hall was on Fifth Avenue, ladies could bank unperturbed by using the 28^th Street entrance.  “At the rear on the Twenty-eight Street side will be special accommodations for the ladies’ department, a branch of its business to which the Second National has always paid special attention.”

The upper four floors were designed as offices and loft spaces for rental income to the bank.

The addition was both harmonious and extremely noticeable -- from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In 1912 the bank purchased the adjoining 32-foot wide property at 252 Fifth Avenue.  The Times reported that “the bank, it is understood, will alter the building using a portion of it for its own business, but later it may be improved with a new bank building.”

Indeed the directors “improved” the property by extending the bank in a harmonious if noticeable addition.  October 26, 1913 The Sun reported that “Another bank improvement on Fifth Avenue is the small addition to the building of the Second National Bank.”

While the bank was busy extending to the north and to the rear (a somewhat odd-looking one-story addition was added along 28^th Street), the upper floors buzzed with a variety of businesses.  The Stewart Hartshorn Company, a window shade firm, was an early tenant.  The manufacturer of “shade-rollers” would stay for nearly four decades.

The rear extension, humiliated with advertising awnings today, carried on the McKim, Mead & White design.  photo by Alice Lum

Small offices, like that of Paul Block, an advertising representative for newspapers like the St. Louis Times, coexisted with larger firms like the Start Shirt Company.  Edward A. West ran his business from 250 Fifth Avenue in 1915 when he made it his civic duty to have Russian royalty arrested.

Prince Paul Troubletzkoy was an artist and sculptor whose best known work was the monumental equestrian statue of Tsar Alexander III in St. Petersburg.  The political climate forced the prince to leave his homeland and on November 20, 1915, he was staying at the nearby Holland House Hotel.   As he sped his motorcar that day up Fifth Avenue he provoked the ire of Edward West.

When the prince drove “his machine so rapidly around a corner at Fifth Avenue and Thirty-first Street,” said The Times, “West barely avoided being hit.”

The enraged West followed Troubletzkoy to the hotel “and remonstrated with him,” he later recounted.  When his remonstrations brought no regrets from the Russian royal, West had him arrested.

In 1921 Charles E. Mitchall, President of National City Bank announced that the institution had taken over the Second National Bank.  For the rest of the century the corner building would be home to National City Bank, later named CitiBank, N.A.

Throughout the 20th century apparel firms would take space here, including Kaahlonit Sweater Mills, Inc., and the important International Silk Guild which operated from the building for over a decade in the 1940s.  The Guild was characteristic of several tenants who stayed on for extended periods.

photo by Alice Lum

In 1950 Interscience moved in.  Publishers of scientific periodicals and books it would be a familiar presence in the building for years.  In 1967 the Singer Company took two full floors for its district sales and regional administrative offices.

1974 was not a particularly good year for the bank at least in terms of robberies.  On June 26 at around 12:30 pm a 29-year old man handed a “threatening” note to a teller.   The robber escaped with a bag containing $6,000.   Four months later, on October 18, the bank was robbed again.  This time the robber was less successful.

“A lone robber, armed with what the police described as a simulated gun, entered a branch of the First National City Bank at 250 Fifth Avenue and escaped with $250,” reported The New York Times.  The take, about $900 today, would not be of much good to the thief.  “The police said the money comprised marked $5 bills,” said the newspaper.

In 1986 a small bank opened nearby on Broadway near 27^th Street.  The Broadway National Bank was intended “to cater to the neighborhood’s business people,” according to Chairman Sam C. Chung.  The business people Chung targeted were part of “the dramatic rise in the number of wholesale and import businesses on the avenue correspond[ing] to the mass immigration of Koreans and other Asians to the United States during the 1970’s.”

With the turn of the 21^st century, BNB had grown, taking over the former CitiBank space at No. 250 Fifth Avenue.   Then in 2012 a somewhat surprising announcement was made when building owners Quartz Associates LLC released its intentions to build a 23-story tower that would encompass the old McKim, Mead & White structure.

The proposed 23-story hotel caused concern with community groups -- http://www.citylandnyc.org/proposed-23-story-hotel-tower-at-fifth-avenue-and-west-28th-street-considered-by-landmarks/

Designed as a hotel, the tower would sit above the old rear addition to the bank building, sitting back 15 feet from the base structure.  Issues were immediately raised by preservationist and neighborhood groups.   But by October 2012, consensus on the design appeared near; and the site of Charlotte Goodridge’s “magnificent stable” seems destined for yet another remarkable change.

The 1894 Appleton & Co. Building -- 72 Fifth Avenue

In the first years following the end of the Civil War, Fifth Avenue below 14^th Street was already changing.  By 1870, the Lenox House hotel stood at the northwest corner of the avenue and 13^th Street—a formidable brownstone structure that looked as much mansion as hotel.  Run by James Slater, it was described by Appleton’s Hand-book of American Travel that year as a family hotel with a “deservedly high reputation.”

The "Washington Parade" in celebration of the centennial of the formation of the Federal Government marched past the Lenox House (near left) on May 1, 1889 -- NYPL Collection

At the time, neither D. Appleton & Company nor James Slater could know that their paths would intersect at the corner of 13^th Street and Fifth Avenue a quarter of a century later.

Daniel Appleton had founded the publishing house in 1825 far to the south on Exchange Place near the Bowery.  Originally a book importer and seller, the business grew at an astounding rate.  Before long, Appleton moved to Clinton Hall at Beekman Street.  It was the first of a rapid succession of relocations.

In January 1838, Appleton’s son, William, was taken into the business and it moved again, to 200 Broadway.  Upon Daniel Appleton’s retirement in 1848, William formed a partnership with his brother, John Adams Appleton, and the business moved once more—to Broadway and Leonard Street.  Then to 443 and 445 Broadway, and then to 94 Grand Street at the corner of Greene.  After that, around 1880, the firm moved to 1-5 Bond Street.

By now Appleton & Company was among the leading publishers in the nation, producing school books, religious tracks, encyclopedias, and a wealth of other texts; along with stereopticon cards, pamphlets and cabinet photographs.

In 1893 the publisher was ready to move yet again.  The old Lenox House hotel was demolished and in its place two sets of brothers, Marx and Moses Ottinger, and Isidore I. and Max S. Korn, erected Appleton’s new headquarters and store.  Designed by Cleverdon & Putzel and completed in 1894, the new 51-foot-wide structure stood in stark contrast to the dour brownstones along the avenue.  Constructed of light-colored stone, buff brick and terra cotta, it was a brilliant presence.  The Romanesque Revival design unapologetically blended medieval and Celtic motifs with a classical Greek key frieze between the third and fourth floors.

Below the pressed metal cornice a row of aloof female faces stared with disinterest and a pointed story-tall corner finial completed the design.

Awnings shield interior spaces from the afternoon sun in 1894 -- photo from The School Journal, Volume 50, January 5, 1895 (copyright expired)

Appleton & Company opened its doors in June 1894.  The New York Times called it a, “handsome new building…where the accommodations are spacious and everything for the different departments conveniently arranged.”  Books magazine noted, “In addition to their trade and two subscription departments there is a Spanish department, and a very large and important medical department which has just produced a monumental work, 'Foster’s Medical Dictionary.'”

A close look reveals cornice brackets in the form of female faces.

In 1896, Louis L. Lorillard purchased the building.  One of four sons of Pierre Lorillard, he was regarded as one of the wealthiest young men in New York upon his father’s death.  He spent $445,000 for the property–about $10.5 million today.  The New York Times noted that the sale was, “subject to leases for eight and three years.”  That would include, of course, the lease of Appleton & Company.

On March 22, 1900, the 75-year-old Appleton & Company surprised the publishing community when it was placed into receivership.  The New York Times explained

"Too much prosperity" is given as the cause of the suspension.  For years the Appletons have done a large business in the installment branch of the book trade.  This meant paying the original cost of the books, as well as the agents’ commissions long before the price of the books had been obtained from the customers, who had from six to thirty-six months’ time to make their payment.  As a result, the company had to borrow considerable amounts on its promissory notes, and these are now falling due.

 

Despite the embarrassment, the Appleton firm continued publishing and selling on a grand scale.  So grand, in fact, that in September 1902 the company moved once again, this time to a fine new building at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 39^th Street.

With Appleton & Co. gone, the building filled with smaller tenants like Perkins Goodwin & Co.  Their offices, seen above in 1905, were somewhat spartan despite the Oriental carpet in the middle of the room.  Simple stenciling relieved the white paint. --photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In April of 1910, Henry Corn signed a 21-year lease on the building, still owned by the Lorillard family.  Corn was in the process of building an L-shaped store and loft building that would wrap around the corner lot.  “He has secured the corner property primarily to protect the light and air of the adjoining building,” explained The New York Times.

In March 1915, the former Appleton Building got a new name when cigarette manufacturer Philip Morris & Co. leased the building “for a long term of years.”  For years to come, 72 Fifth Avenue would be known as the Philip Morris building.

Another long-term change came about on August 12, 1929 when The National City bank leased the ground floor, once the retail store of Appleton publishers.   The space was renovated as a branch banking and safe deposit office that would be a familiar presence in the neighborhood for decades.

By the time Philip Morris & Co. took the building the finial had disappeared from the corner. -- photo NYPL Collection

The building that had been erected as a publishing house again became home to another when Ginn & Co., educational publishers, purchased it in October 1946.  The nationally-recognized firm had been across the street at 70 Fifth Avenue for sixty years.  It announced that the National City Bank would continue to occupy the first floor while it would use the upper six floors for its own use.

By 1959, when an investor purchased the building, Ginn & Co. had reduced its space in the building and leased out a portion of the third floor to the New York Brass and Copper Company.  Two years later, New York Brass and Copper expanded to a full floor.

As the century progressed, other publishers moved into the building.  In 1976, Longman, Inc. was here, as well as Penguin Books.  Three years later, publisher Hamilton Fish moved his magazine The Nation into the building.  It was the oldest continuously published weekly in the country, having been founded in 1865.  The Nation, which dealt in politics and culture, proudly deemed itself “the flagship of the left.”

In the 1980s, the Human Sciences Press, publishers of The Journal of Aging and Judaism among other periodicals, joined the publishing community within the building.

By now, the façade of the first floor banking level had been seriously modernized.  The medieval columns and arches had been covered over by stone panels to disguise the Victorian design.  But by the end of the century, a restoration found, incredibly, that everything was entombed and waiting to be exposed.

The polished granite columns with their stylized Ionic capitals were intact behind the modern facade.

Today the building is home to the New School University’s Milano Graduate School of Management and Urban Policy.  Although the fantastic pointed finial on the roof long ago disappeared, the building looks much as it did when Appleton & Co. first opened its doors in June 1894.

non historic photographs taken by the author