The 1858 Cast Iron 120 Chambers Street (aka 50 Warren Street)

 

The ultra-wealthy Jones families were a significant presence on the Chambers Street block between West Broadway and Church Street in the first decades of the 19th century.  In 1818, the year they were married, Isaac Jones, Jr. and his wife, the former Mary Mason, erected fine home at No. 122 Chambers Street, and in 1828 Isaac's brother, William Henry Jones, built a 23-foot wide residence next door at No. 120.  

By the 1850's their exclusive neighborhood was being increasingly invaded by commerce.  In 1857 the Jones families demolished their houses and replaced them with modern loft buildings, while retaining ownership of the properties.  The names of the architects have been lost, but they were almost assuredly not the same person.

No. 122 was faced in sandstone, while No. 120 received a cast iron facade--the latest in construction technology--from the foundries of Daniel D. Badger's The Architectural Iron Works.   That new building, completed in 1858, ran through the block to No. 50 Warren Street where an identical façade was installed.

The graceful Italianate-style design was divided into three parts by intermediate cornices.  Two identical two-story sections flanked by double-height Corinthian pilasters sat atop a cast iron storefront.  The spandrel panels of the arched openings were filled with frothy decorations.  An especially handsome bracketed cornice with rosettes completed the design.

A slightly wider version of the facade was pictured in the Architectural Iron Works catalog of 1865.  (copyright expired)

Interestingly, on May 6, 1856--even before demolition of the old Jones house had begun--space in the proposed building was being offered for lease.  The advertisement promised that the site "is to be immediately improved by the erection thereon of a five story first class store in all respects, with two basements and with all the modern improvements, either of marble or iron."  A lease was available to "an undoubted tenant" for ten or fifteen years "and the building will be arranged to suit his convenience."

Among the initial tenants was A. R. Van Nest & Co., which took the three lower floors.  Established in 1835 by Abram R. Van Nest, it was the foremost saddlery hardware firm in the city.  The first floor sales room offered, according to the 1859 The New-York Sketch Book and Merchants' Guide, "every variety of Heavy and Japanned Saddlery Ware, and Patent Leathers and Cloths of their own manufacture; also, all qualities and descriptions of Spurs, Stirrups, and Bitts, for riding and driving."  There were also harness mountings, carriage cloths and fringes, carriage lamps and whips.

The second floor salesroom was devoted to the sale of textiles and accessories--carriage blankets, curry combs, reins, shafts, springs and axles, "in fact, Buggy and Carriage Trimmings of every kind," according to The New-York Sketch Book.

The upper floors housed the "hats and caps" factory of  Geo. W. and Jehial Read.  Its brisk business was reflected in a continuous string of help wanted ads.  On February 21, 1859, for instance, an advertisement sought "two first class straw and silk bonnet trimmers.  None but experienced and capital hands need apply."  The same month the firm was seeking "a porter; one accustomed to the hat, cap and straw goods business."

Geo. W. and Jehial Read seems to have left the building by 1861, replaced by two apparel firms, George W. Nelson and T. S. Young & Co.  

In 1860 T. S. Young & Co. had hired a 17-year old boy, Edwards Tomlins.  The New York Times noted "he came highly recommended to his employers, and he soon exhibited such a marked talent for business, and was withal so apparently conscientious and honest, that his employers were induced to repose the most implicit confidence in him."  By the time the firm moved into No. 120 Chambers Street, Tomlins had been promoted to cashier--a highly responsible position--and was in charge of handling the company's books.

Tomlins earned only $300 a year--less than $8,000 in today's money.  And yet, according to The New York Times on December 24, 1862, "During the last four months, his employers and others noticed, with some surprise, that the young man was very extravagant in dress, and also in some other respects, but, strange as it may appear, they did not for a moment suspect that he was robbing their money-drawer."  The article said that, instead, they believed their "fast clerk" was living beyond his means, or that he had perhaps come into an inheritance.

Rather than arriving at work on a streetcar, Tomlins took a carriage to and from his boarding house every day.  "And yet such was the confidence with which this firm trusted young Tomlins that it never occurred to them to examine the cash-book or drawer, to see whether or not their confidence was misplaced."  As the year drew to a close, however, Tomlins knew that an audit of the books would be performed in January.  And the result would thrust him into "hopeless ruin."

On Morning morning, December 22, 1862 Tomlins--now 19-years-old--did not appear at breakfast at his boarding house.  When he had still not come down at 10:00, his landlady, Mrs. Archer, went up to check on him.  The New York Times reported, "The sight which then presented itself to her view caused her to start back and scream with fright.  On the floor of the room lay the apparently lifeless form of Tomlins, and beside him was a revolver."

When word of his death reached T. S. Young & Co. a cursory examination of the books was performed.  It was immediately apparent that more than $26,000 in today's money was missing "and it is believed that a more thorough investigation will reveal larger defalcations," said The New York Times.  Tomlins had taken care to use some of the stolen money to pay off his debts before ending his life.  His $462 tailor bill and $251 carriage bills had been paid--a total of $17,800 by today's standards.

A. R. Van Nest & Co. had been renamed J. Newton Van Ness & Co. when this photo was taken in 1885.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Like many other apparel firms, George W. Nelson sometimes gave work to contractors to be made off-site.  Unfinished garments would be passed off to a tailor to do the finish work.  It was an arrangement that profited Polish-born tailor John Harris and a garment retailer, Louis Johnson--at least for a while.  During the summer of 1865 Harris took work from various firms then sold them to Johnson, "telling that person, at the time of the sale, that they had been stolen," according to The New York Times on August 12.  Their scheme was doomed to failure, obviously, when the finished garments never showed up at the original factory.  When the pair was arrested George W. Nelson was out more than $3,000 in garments by today's standards.

While other firms came and went over the decades, A. R. Van Nest & Co., remained.  The Van Nest family was among the early settlers of New York City and the Van Nest mansion in Greenwich Village where Alexander had been born, was a landmark.  Interestingly the family name had been interchangeably spelled Van Nest and Van Ness for decades.

By the early 1880's the firm was renamed J. Newton Van Ness Co.  Despite the name, the principal of the firm was still Alexander T. Van Nest, who had taken over the firm from his father. 

Brooklyn Life, December 3, 1892 (copyright expired)

Ill health forced Alexander T. Van Nest to retired relatively young in the early 1890's.  This condition was complicated in the spring of 1896 by an attack of appendicitis.   On July 14, 1896 he and his wife sailed for Europe for a several-month stay.  The 52-year-old died in the small Prussian town of Langenschwalbach on August 10.

At the time the New-York Bottlers' Supply Company was on the third floor of No. 120, the Regal Lamp Shade Company occupied the fourth, and the top floor was shared by the Herbert Brush Co. and the Brenack Paper Company.  

Both small operations, the Herbert Brush Co. and the Brenack Paper Company employed just a handful of workers.  The brush firm's staff of four men worked 59 hours per week plus nine hours on Saturdays.  The Brenack Paper Company consisted of foreman Francis O'Brien and four young girls.

On the afternoon of March 3, 1896 O'Brien "turned around and saw tongues of fire licking the ceiling," as reported by The New York Times.  "He at once shouted 'Fire!' and to add to the general confusion, Bertha Reed of 37 Gwinnett Street, Brooklyn, fainted."  The three other girls carried her down the the stairs to the street.  "Further than this, there was no excitement," said the article.

A second alarm was called in and, according to The New York Times, "to this can be attributed the fact that the fire was so quickly put out."  Nevertheless, the building was flooded "from top to bottom."  

J. Newton Van Ness & Co. suffered $10,000 in water damage, nearly $315,000 today.  The other tenants' losses were less significant, the largest of which was about $2,000.

In 1906 J. Newton Van Ness received a satisfying contract to supply "horse equipments, harness and stable supplies" for the New York City Police Department.  The total amount would equal more than $100,000 today. 

That same year a recent rival firm, Bartley Bros. & Hall Co. moved into the building.  The National Harness Review explained that "owing to enormously increased business" the young firm was "compelled to seek larger quarters."  The journal described the company's offerings as "one of the most attractive stocks of imported saddlery to be found in this country."

The two competing firms co-existed for 12 years.  Then, in its April 1918 issue, Harness magazine reported "The old established harness business of the J. Newton Van Ness Co., at 120 Chambers Street, New York City, has gone out of business, the stock, good will, etc., having been purchased by Bartley Bros. & Hall."

By 1920 Topping Brothers, manufacturers and dealers in "heavy and marine hardware, shipbuilders', railroad and contractors' supplies," operated from the building.  In the meantime, Bartley Bros. & Hall

continued to gobble up well-established firms.  On January 22, 1923 Greater New York noted that the firm were the successors to "Veil Brothers, C. C. Bartley, C. M. Moseman and Brother and J. Newton Van Ness Company."  The firm had opened a London branch by now.

After having been a saddlery showroom since 1858, the ground floor was converted to the Chamberlain Restaurant around 1924.  It was the scene of a moving testimonial dinner on April 1, 1925.  John Paul Kottcamp was retiring as course supervisor of the Pratt Institute School of Mechanical Engineering.  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported, "Two hundred of his former and present pupils attended."  He was presented with a silver gavel and a black leather traveling bag in appreciation for his years of service.

In 1927 architect Murray Klein was hired to design a replacement storefront.  The building continued to house small manufacturers until 1990 when it was converted to offices.

The Corinthian capitals of the pilasters have been sadly lost.  

That all changed in 1996 when a renovation resulted in sprawling apartments on the upper floors.  Murray Klein's 1927 storefront was markedly redesigned, however the Badger pilasters somehow survived along the sides.  

photographs by the author

The Lost Gilsey Building - 169-171 Broadway

from Illustrations of Iron Architecture made by The Architectural iron Works of the City of New York, 1865 (copyright expired)

Born in Hobro, Denmark in 1812, Peter Gilsey's parents died when he was still a boy.  He arrived in New York City in 1827 "alone and friendless," according to the New-York Tribune years later.  He was nearly penniless, as well.  But he was ambitious and relentless.  He obtained a job in the Grow & Christopher piano factory and slowly saved enough money to open a small cigar shop on the Bowery near Prince Street.

Gilsey invested his profits into real estate and, according to historian Matthew Hale Smith in 1871, "has been content to seek for wealth in that class of investments."  Within three decades of landing in New York harbor Gilsey had amassed a sizable fortune and set out to erect an office building which would double as headquarters for his tobacco business.  He eyed the southwest corner of Broadway and Cortlandt Street where Bogert's bakery stood; but, as The Buffalo Courier recalled decades later in 1911, the "old baker refused to sell."

Matthew Hale Smith explained that Bogert "was noted for his love of whiskey and cigars."  And so, "with a good supply of fine liquor, and a quality of well selected cigars, Mr. Gilsey visited the owner in his domicile on Long Island.  Who drank the whiskey, and who smoked the cigars is not known.  But Mr. Gilsey brought back a well executed lease, giving him control of the property for twenty-five years."

Smith described Bogert as "a shrewd, cautious, 'skittish' sort of man to deal with."  The lease clearly directed that when the lease expired whatever building had been erected upon the plot would revert to him.  At an aggregate rent of $20,000, Gilsey would be paying the equivalent of $24,700 per year today on the land.

Gilsey hired architect John W. Ritch to design his building and Ritch, in turn, turned to Daniel Badger to execute his designs.  Badger’s concept of hanging pre-cast iron sections to masonry buildings which he had developed a few years earlier allowed for rapid construction, fire-proof facades and relatively inexpensive but elaborate decorative structures.

Completed in 1854 the six-story structure cost $60,000 to construct according to Matthew Hale Smith--or about $1.85 million today.  Ritch relieved the visual bulk with prominent cornices that created three sections.  Within each were uninterrupted piers that accentuated the verticality of the structure and anticipated the skyscraper movement to come.  On both sides above the ornate bracketed terminal cornice were triangular pediments.  They contained cast iron banners that announced the building's name--an element Badger would repeat three years later in the elaborate Cary Building.

Gilsey moved his own offices into the building and began leasing space.  Among the first to sign was haberdasher M. Wilson, who announced he had moved into "a spacious establishment in the Gilsey building," on December 19, 1854.  He listed among his offerings "a large assortment of shirts, stocks and collars, carefully manufactured, and suitable for every market in the States."  

Wilson had competition within the building in April 1855 when merchant tailor Joseph Lee moved his store in.  Above the street level shops the offices were occupied by a variety of tenants, like jeweler John I. Moffat; publishers' agent Charles t. Evans; and James Marriner, real estate agent.

By May 1855 Dr. John Bull's office was here.  He produced Dr. John Bull's Sarsaparilla which he deemed "the greatest spring and summer medicine in the world."  An advertisement in The New York Herald on June 6 touted its miraculous properties:

For Sick Headache, Loss of Appetite and bilious attacks, take a dose or two of Dr. John Bull's sarsaparilla, and you will be cured in a few hours, as hundreds who have tried it are willing to testify.  It has every good quality to recommend it, being exceedingly nice to the taste.  Children like it, and ask for it.  It is free from all drugs and minerals, and perfectly safe to use at all seasons.  In fact, is has been truly called, "Nature's best friend and assistant."

The offices of Butler, Hosford & Co. were in the building in 1859.  The firm manufactured the "Paragon self-generating gas light, making its own Gas in the burner as wanted, safely from burning fluid."  And within three years jeweler James Alexander was here.  He doubled as a sort of pawn broker, advertising "liberal advances made on Merchandise, Diamonds, Watches and Silver Ware, &c., or purchased for cash at the full value."

Quimby, Smith & Co. was one of several jewelers in the building in 1870.  Reconstruction Illustrated and Explained, 1870 (copyright expired)

Several real estate agents called the Gilsey Building home in the early 1870's, including J. O. Hoyt, W. P. Seymour, and T. B. Peck.  A somewhat surprising tenant, at least from a 21st century viewpoint, was E. Richmond, the New York agent for the Kentucky State Lottery.  He published the winning numbers in newspapers in 1873 and directed "Prizes cashed and information given by addressing E. Richmond, No. 4 Gilsey Building."  The office would remain for years, later taken over by B. Nathan, who also represented the Missouri State Lottery. 

The nation celebrated its Centennial on July 4, 1876 in grand style and New York threw a two-day party.  The New-York Tribune entitled a nearly-full page article "The City In Gala Dress" and said that on Broadway "Every building, no matter how insignificant, had a flag waving."  Certainly not insignificant was the Gilsey Building which "was gayly decorated with small flags flying from each of the windows."

A riot of signs cover the ground floor shops in 1906.  photo by Irving Undershill from the collection of the Library of Congress

Peter Gilsey died on April 8, 1873, six years before his lease on the property expired.  Although his estate was forced to give up the building, the project had been massively profitable.  In 1871 Matthew Hale Smith had noted "Since 1861, the income from the building has exceeded $75,000 dollars a year."  That figure would translate to about $1.6 million today.

Real estate operators continued to lease in the building in the 1880's and '90's; but the changing times were evident in at least one tenant.  In 1889 Miss Lamb leased Room  No. 33 on the third floor for her typewriting school.  An advertisement in March that year promised "typewriting taught in one month" and assured "Pupils qualified as expert typewriters in one month, or money refunded.  The finger movement taught."  Student could also received instruction in stenography and "manifolding and addressing of envelopes" and "forms of business and social correspondence."

If Bogert had refused to sell his valuable corner plot in 1854, his family was no less resolute in 1906.  (On December 10, 1911 The Buffalo Courier would comment that the building "now brings the Bogert family nearly $50,000 a year, which is probably five times what the old baker paid for the property.")  

The City Investing company was formed in 1904.  It targeted the Broadway-Cortlandt corner for its massive City-Investing Company Building.  But the Bogert family stubbornly refused to sell.  Therefore, in 1907, the skyscraper went up around the Gilsey Building.  Designed by Francis Kimball, it was at the time the largest office building yet constructed in terms of square footage.

One of several Young's Hat stores was in the building at the end of World War I.  New-York Tribune, March 21, 1921 (copyright expired)

In reporting on the City-Investing Building in its April 1907 issue, Fireproof Magazine assumed that the Gilsey Building's future was now secure.  "It looks now as if [it] were destined to have a long lease of life before it still, and it will continue for some time to be the center of reminiscence by the few remaining old inhabitants who used to buy their pipes, tobacco and sometimes their cigars from Peter Gilsey."

A stubborn hold-out, the Gilsey Building was dwarfed by the City-Investing Building in 1907. photo by Irving Underhill from the collection of the Library of  Congress 

The article recalled the building's beginnings.  "Time was when the Gilsey building, one of the first professedly 'office' buildings in New York, was quite a sensation.  It was elaborately described in the daily papers of the time when it was built.  Its exterior, of cast iron, was regarded as a very original design in progressive cast-iron architecture."

While the corner was no longer feasible for massive construction, the pre-Civil War structure was quickly becoming an anachronism and its owners found it more and more difficult to attract new tenants to the out-of-date structure.

On December 22, 1926 The New York Sun reported on the coming end of the Gilsey Building, announcing that the Chemical National Bank would be erecting a six-story structure on the site.

photo by Erik Drost

Today the massive 54-floor One Liberty Plaza, completed in 1973, engulfs the site.  Along with the City-Investing Building (later known at 165 Broadway) the 1908 Singer Building was demolished to make way for the skyscraper.

The 1861 Condict Building - 55-57 White Street

Cousins John Eliot Condict and Samuel H. Condict were both highly successful.  John was the principal in J. E. Condict Co. with his brother, Silas B., makers of leather "cavalry cartridge boxes, cap boxes, &c.."  He was also vice-president of Condict & Co., brokers in railway stock.  Samuel ran S. H. Condict Co. manufacturers of saddlery and military accouterments.   Samuel ran S. H. Condict & Co., which also manufactured leather accessories.

In 1860 the cousins began construction of the new headquarters for their businesses at Nos. 55-57 White Street on the site of two old structures.  Designed by the prolific architectural firm of John Kellum & Sons and completed in 1861, it sat on the corner of Franklin Alley (later given the more decorous name of Franklin Place).  At the time cast iron facades were rapidly coming into fashion.  The innovation enabled rapid construction, lowered building costs and was touted as fireproof.  Kellum turned to Daniel D. Badger's Architectural Iron Works to fabricate the facade.  It appeared in the founder's catalog four years later.  

Architectural Iron Works New York, 1865 (copyright expired)

The facade featured a few unusual elements--the side piers of the ground floor pretended to be vermiculated stone blocks.  They morphed into highly uncommon diamond-point quoins on the upper floors.  A handsome corbel table ran below the elaborate cornice.  The cast iron design was inspired by earlier stone versions, most notably in its two-story "sperm candle" columns, so-called because of their similarity to the thin candles made from sperm whale oil.  In fact, two years earlier Kellum and his former partner, Gameliel King, had designed a highly similar building in marble at No. 388 Broadway

Kellum clearly borrowed elements from his earlier marble building for the Condict building.

Both D. E. Condict & Co. and S. H. Condict & Co. moved in, along with commission merchants Sprague, Colburn & Co.   John E. Condict was more than a landlord to John H. Sprague.  The two were long-time friends outside of business.

The same year the building was completed the first shot in the Civil War was fired.  The national crisis was a boon for both Condicts who landed military contracts.   During the first year of the war S. H. Condict & Co. supplied the Government with $10,324 worth of gun-slings, cartridge boxes and other "equipments."  That amount would equal about $165,000 today.

The cost-efficient firm did not waste its remnants.  On December 22 1861 it advertised:  "To Shoe Manufacturers--A large lot of small pieces of Leather for sale, suitable for shoe manufacturers.  Apply at 57 White street, to S. H. Condict & Co."

J. E. Condict & Co., too, sold to the military.  During the fiscal year of 1865-66 The Government purchased $3,187.67 in "horse equipment" (about $50,000 today).  The business relationship with the military lasted beyond the war.  In May 1873 S. H. Condict & Co. placed a bid with the United States Navy for $5,32.50 in knapsacks.

Sprague, Colburn & Co. remained in the building following the death of John H. Sprague.  Shockingly, John Eliot Condict saw opportunity in the death of his close friend.  He approached Sprague's widow, Henrietta, and offered to help administer her finances.  The American and English Railroad Cases later reported "J. Elliot [sic] Condict had long been a friend of her husband, doing business in New York in railway securities, under the style of 'Condict & Co.'"  

In February 1870 Henrietta loaned Condict $25,000, taking his note in exchange.  Just before it became due, he suggested she buy $75,000 in bonds of the Madison & Portage Railway Company from him.  Condict put the $25,000 he owed her toward the purchase.  When she had received no interest by April 1879, she placed control of her affairs in the hands of John M. Whiting who dug into the matter.  No evidence could  be found that the railroad had ever received payment for bonds in the name of Henrietta A. Sprague.  A law suit followed which found Condict liable to return the funds, with interest, to Mrs. Sprague.  It may have been the publicity and humiliation that caused Condict to move his family to San Francisco that year.

In the meantime Sprague, Colburn & Co. continued  to represent manufacturers in its White Street showrooms.  In 1879 it sold the "dress goods, handkerchiefs, tie silk and grenadines" of Dohery & Wadsworth; and the silk goods of Jersey City makers Victory Silk Mills; Field, Morris, Fenner & Co.; and A. Pocachard.

In the 1880's two major firms occupied the building.  Commission merchant J. H. Libby & Co. was founded in Maine around 1838.  It opened its New York office in 1863.  The firm handled woolens and "domestic mixed goods of fine grades."  In 1888 Illustrated New York: The Metropolis of To-day commented "The business premises in this city are spacious in size, eligible situated for trade purposes, and are at all times stocked to repletion with new, reliable and valuable goods." 

Also in the building was Lawson Brothers, importers of "laces, embroideries, curtains &tc."  Founded by Robert Lawson in 1858, it now engulfed three floors of Nos. 55-57 White Street.  Illustrated New York said of the firm, "This house has long been recognized as among the most extensive importing houses in this line in the country, possessing every facility for keeping itself en rapport with the most famous of European manufacturers."

H. J. Libby & Co. would remain in the building at least through 1906; while Lawson Brothers left around 1896.  In its place was Campbell & Smith, merchants in cloaks, millinery, notions, fancy goods and hosiery.

By 1906 The American Mills Company had taken over the Campbell & Smith space.  The firm manufactured "elastic fabrics, elastic webbings, suspender and garter webbings, elastic braids and suspender braids" in its Waterbury, Connecticut factory.

Hoffman-Corr Manufacturing seems to have been the sole occupant of the building by 1908.  The firm manufactured seemingly disparate products: rope and twin, "cotton waste and candle wicking," and flags.  

Factory work in the early 20th century could be tedious and discouraging.  Many firms promoted morale by sponsoring company baseball teams, bowling teams and other activities.  On August 23, 1908 the New-York Tribune reported "The Commercial Athletic Association has set apart the afternoon and evening of August 29 for its grand carnival and athletic games, which are to be confined wholly to the members of the houses represented in the baseball league."  Among them was the Hoffman-Corr Manufacturing Company.

A massive two-week celebration of the 300th anniversary of Henry Hudson's discovery of the Hudson River and the 100th anniversary of the invention of Robert Fulton's successful steamboat was held in New York from September 25 to October 9, 1909.   Hoffman-Corr Manufacturing responded by producing "bunting flags," purported to be exact reproductions of the flag that flew on Hudson's Half Moon in 1609.

The Country Gentleman, August 26 1909 (copyright expired)

On September 23, two days before the events began, the firm advertised that it would remain open until 9:00 every night to enable customers to grab up their flags.  They were available in four sizes, from 4 x 6 feet to an enormous 8 x 12 feet.  The costs ranged from $1 to $3--the most expensive costing around $85 in today's dollars.

Two years later Clough, Pike & Co., importers of "mohairs" shared the building with Turtle Bros., importers of linens.  Both were foreign-based.  Clough, Pike & Co.'s mills were in Bradford, England; while the headquarters of Turtle Bros. was in Belfast, Ireland.

Harry T. Turtle handled the American operations, while Herbert S. Turtle oversaw the Irish side of things.  The well-respected firm suffered embarrassing press when Harry T. Turtle was arrested on the afternoon of June 6, 1912.  The bold headline in The Evening World read: Linen Importer Held, Accused of a $100,000 Fraud."  Special Treasury Agents Williams and Coffee had been surveiling Turtle since January 1910.  He was charged with defrauding the Government by undervaluing imported goods.

The Dry Goods Economist, January 13, 1917 (copyright expired_

Turtle Bros. was still in the building in 1919, a year after Herbert S. Turtle died.  But it was gone by the following year.

In 1920 the building was shared by hospital linens manufacturer Geo. P. Boyce & Co., and cotton and woolen goods jobbers Louis Bralower & Sons.

The building was sold in January 1922 for $140,000; about $2 million today.  The timing could not have been worse for the buyer.

On February 21, 1922.  Brothers Charles, William, Harry and Hyman Bralower were about to close up at around 6:00 when smoke was seen coming from the basement.  While they attempted to find the source, an automatic fire alarm sounded, bringing 15 pieces of fire equipment to the scene.  

The New-York Tribune reported the firefighters found "more than 1,000 tons of baled cotton on fire in the sub-cellars."  The heat was so intense that they could not enter.  "Instead they chopped holes through the sidewalk and poured tons of water into the cellar," according to The New York Times.  The acrid fumes forced the firefighters to work in shifts; but even that did not save 12 from being overcome.  Department physicians on the scene treated the men.

While a crowd of 5,000 spectators gathered, according to the New-York Tribune, the fire "spread to the main floor of the building and were rapidly penetrating to upper floors by air and elevator shafts."

Additional alarms brought a total of 18 companies.  Two hours after the fire broke out two complete companies of firefighters were still inside the ground floor, "trying to save large quantities of baled cotton goods," said The Times.  Chief Crawley suspected that by now the floor was unsafe and ordered the men out  "They had no sooner got to the street when the floor fell with a roar, carrying everything on it into the flames below."

It took firefighters three hours to extinguish the blaze, which caused damages equal to $2.9 million today.   But Daniel Badger's fireproof iron facade had proved to be just that.  While the interior of the building was severely damaged, the exterior needed new windows and a coat of paint.

Leather manufacturer M. Slifka & Sons moved into the rebuilt structure in 1923.  The firm made and exported purses, belts, wallets, and leather suspenders for military use.

Despite the recent substantial repairs, architects Schwartz & Gross were commissioned in 1929 to do a general renovation.  The changes resulted in a store and offices in the first floor, offices in the new mezzanine level, a stockroom on the second, and factory space above.

By the last quarter of the 20th century the Tribeca renaissance had reached Nos. 55-57 White Street.  In 1982 the Collective for Living Cinema was in the building; and in 1986 the ground floor itself became a piece of art.  Artist Karen Zuegner used the three central windows as a show entitled "Fragments of Life."  She filled each 10-foot high window with three-dimensional geometric forms in blacks, whites, and grays.  The New York Times critic Grace Glueck explained on April 25, "Their arrangement--representing her life--is helter-skelter, playing off the flat, orderly two-dimensionality of the glass surfaces, though a grand triumphal arch in the middle window pulls the whole tableau effectively together."

The gentrification of Tribeca brought threats to its historic architectural fabric.  On September 9, 1988 New York magazine reported "TriBeCa residents are outraged over a developer's plan to build a 33-story condominium tower--including a 9-story addition atop an 1861 landmark cast-iron building."  Virginia Millhiser proposed to demolish the five-story synagogue at No. 49 White Street and replace it with a tower, the base of which would form a bridge over Nos. 55-57 White.  The problem for locals was that the "1861 landmark" wasn't.

The civic groups prevailed, lobbying the Landmarks Preservation Commission to designate the Condict building an individual landmark.  Millhiser's project was successfully stifled.

Two years later the upper floors were converted to apartments.  The restoration of the facade and the fabrication of historically appropriate doors resulted in the building's return to its striking mid-Victorian appearance.

photographs by the author

Isaac Duckworth's 1868 46-48 Lispenard Street

In 1846 Daniel D. Badger moved to New York City with his innovative concept of prefabricated cast iron facades.  The idea caught on--especially in the districts that would be later called Soho and Tribeca where commercial buildings were rapidly taking the place of three-story brick houses.  Among the architects who embraced cast iron was Isaac F. Duckworth.

Duckworth was prolific in the downtown area, sometimes acting as both architect and developer.   He was commissioned in 1866 by Pierre Keff Francis (who by now had Anglicized his name in directories as Peter) to design a five-story loft building on the site of the two three-story structures at Nos. 46 and 48 Lispenard Street.  Francis listed his profession as "tailor."  His home address on 32nd Street, just off Fifth Avenue, and this ambitious building project suggest his was an exclusive custom tailoring business catering to the carriage trade.

Daniel Badger's Architectural Iron Works manufactured the facade for the French Second Empire style structure.   Unlike some of the elaborate examples pictured in the firm's 1865 catalogue, Duckworth had designed a comparatively no-nonsense series of flat-arched openings separated by Corinthian pilasters.  Handsome paneled end piers added visual interest.  It was the robust bracketed cornice that stood out.  Here cast lettering announced the construction date within the pediment.

On a side note, when Duckworth was hired later that same year to design a building for Daniel C. Kingsland around the corner at Nos. 315-317 Church Street, he may have pitched a cost-savings idea.  By re-using the foundry molds, Kingsland would save considerable money.  Whether or not that was the motivation, that building, completed in 1869, is a duplicate of the Lispenard Street structure.

The Kingsland Building reused the foundry molds to create its facade.

Among the first tenants of Nos. 46-48 Lispenard Street was Bradley, Keefer, Welty & Co., dealers in dry goods.   The firm had barely moved in when it was the target of a con man.  On June 8, 1869 fast-talking Isaac Marks walked into the store, saying he represented Marks & Cohen, a company at No. 124 Chambers Street.  He boasted that the firm had cash of $23,000, a "very few debts," and he added that he had a personal bank account with a $2,000 balance.

Marks convinced Edson Bradley that he was preparing to opening a branch retail store in Paterson, New Jersey for which he needed stock.  He walked out having purchased $1,144 worth of dry goods and cloth (nearly $21,000 today) promising to pay within 60 days.   Shortly after the goods were delivered, Bradley, Keefer, Welty & Co. discovered Marks sold everything at auction far below their value.   Edson Bradley had Marks arrested on June 25.  The New York Times noted "The prisoner failed to make any proper explanation of his conduct."

Not long after the incident Edson Bradley, along with his son and son-in-law, took over the partnership, renaming it Edson Bradley & Co.  He was looking to add to his sales staff in 1871, especially hoping to hire those with an existing customer base.  His ad on December 17 read "Wanted--Several experienced salesmen to sell woollens, flannels and blankets; to those controlling a trade liberal terms will be offered."

In 1873 Edson Bradley & Co. moved to No. 495 Broadway.  That year nation was thrown into the most severe financial depression it would endure until the 1929 Stock Market crash.  The thriving firm was ruined and the Bradley men all ended up in jail following a sensational attempt to escape with company funds.

In the meantime, Adolphus Lecour had moved his linens business into the Lispenard Street building by 1871.  The prosperous merchant lived in a fine home on Waverley Place, just off Washington Square.  He was understandably upset when he lost his valuable watch that year  He offered a $25 reward (over $500 today) for the return of his "gold watch (hunting case), with name Adolphe Lecour engraved on the inside."

By 1874 Lucas Thompson & Co., linen dealers, was in the building.   Bad luck seems to have plagued both Thompson and his firm.   In February that year an employee (or possibly Thompson himself) stepped off a Lexington Avenue streetcar leaving a package "containing law papers" on the seat.

Thompson's troubles continued the following February when his wife, Charlotte, sued for "separation from bed and board."  She claimed "cruel and inhuman treatment."  Thompson denied that, admitting only to "occasional exhibitions of temper."

Charlotte was exacting in providing examples.  Once, she claimed, her husband objected to her playing the piano.  When she did not stop "the unwelcome music," he slammed the piano cover on her fingers.  She brought up the time when she asked him to bring her bird cage in from the porch.  The New York Times reported "he refused to be disturbed for that purpose while taking his ease on two chairs before the window outside of which the bird-cage was hanging."   And, she added, "he had shocked her nerves by ringing the door-ball late at night."

The judge, however, was not sympathetic to Charlotte's complaints.  He felt that partners in marriage undertook "to bear the infirmities of humanity" and it was not for the court to "weigh with nicety how far each is to blame in the matter."

Three months later troubles continued when, on the morning of May 19, 1875 expensive "black silk guipure Laces" were stolen from Lucas Thompson & Co.  The firm offered a massive $500 reward for their return.

Lucas Thompson & Co. remained here at least through 1877.  By then S. Brill & Co. had been in the building for at least a year, as had Ehrlich & Steinfeld, "fancy dry goods."
 
Simon Brill had started out with a small retail dry goods store at No. 327 Canal Street.  By now his firm was a major player in the dry goods business, manufacturing women's apparel as well.  In 1877 the company advertised for experienced sewing machine operators for "ladies' underwear, &c."

Other firms renting space in the building that year were the Independent Comb Co., and and the dry goods operation of brothers Solomon and Moses Hyman.

Serious trouble came to Ehrlich & Steinfeld when its partners, Ferdinand Ehrlich and Salomon Steinfeld were arrested in August 1876.  Their capture came just in time, according to their accuser, William Zimmermann who swore before a judge on August 11 that the men were "about to abscond and depart out of the State for the purpose of avoiding the service of a summons and defrauding their creditors."

Zimmerman was an officer in Dieckerhoff, Raffloer & Co., importers of dress trimmings and dry goods.  The firm had made five deliveries to Ehrlich & Steinfeld that July amounting to $1,311.25, only to find their Lispenard Street offices vacant soon afterward.  Investigations showed that it was a mere fraction of the massive fraud operation which totaled "in the neighborhood of $50,000" according to a newspaper--more than $1 million today.

The New York Times showed no sympathy to the swindlers, saying on August 15 "The firm of Ehrlich & Steinfeld, dealers in fancy dry goods, No. 46 Lispenard street, has come to grief within a few days, an occurrence which it is claimed has happened none too soon for the welfare of the dry goods dealers of New-York."

Interestingly, as the century drew to an end, the dry goods and apparel firms in the building were joined by at least two leather manufacturers.  Adolph Loewenhein was here by 1889 as was Townshend, Baker & Co., harness makers.

Frank Lewis and his sons Joseph and Henry ran Frank Lewis & Sons were here in the 1890s.  Makers of men's apparel like shirts and underwear, the substantial operation employed 92 workers in 1896--6 men, 56 women, and 24 girls and 6 boys.  The staff worked 53 hours during the week and 8 hours on Saturdays.

By now the "notion house" of Berg Bros., run by David and Isaac Berg, had moved in.  The firm imported and dealt in "fancy notions and small wares," a catch-all term that included buttons, snaps, "toilet and hair pins," and millinery supplies.

Dry Goods Reporter, December 19, 1908 (copyright expired)

Among the firm's employees in 1903 was 52-year old Samuel Goodman.  Tragedy struck on December 14 that year when he suffered a heart attack while helping a customer.  The Sun ran the indelicate headline FELL DEAD IN STORE and explained "He had made a sale and was wrapping up the goods when he fell and died."

In 1912 Berg Bros. was cited for employing children under 16 years of age "without Board of Health certificate," apparently what today would be termed a Work Permit.  The firm was apparently little phased and was cited again the following year.

Berg Bros. moved to No. 478 Broadway in 1913.  The building continued to house apparel and dry goods firms until 1922 when the newly-formed Hardware Dealers Building, Inc. purchased it.   Headed by W. H. Sterling, the firm announced its intention "to provide quarters for firms affiliated with the hardware trade.  Extensive alterations will be made."

By 1930 the Grand Union Equipment Company, dealers in soft home goods like bed linens and rugs, was in the building, as was the small engraving shop of Frank J. Wolfram.   The Grand Union Equipment Company suffered continued burglaries until by October 1934 the losses had amounted to about $20,000.

Then, the firm's president, Samuel Sackett, dropped into Wolfram's shop and happened to notice towels bearing his label there.   He notified police who obtained a search warrant for Wolfram's furnished room at No. 135 East 104th Street.   Not only did they check Wolfram's room, but all 95 of the rooms in that building.  After a five-hour search, they determined that "virtually all of the furnishings in the house" had been stolen from the Grand Union Equipment Company."

On October 30 Wolfram and the manager of the building, Merwin Marshall, were arrested.   In court, the 38-year old Wolfram provided a doubtful resume.  He described himself as "a steel engraver and a captain in the army intelligence service in the World War" as well as a State game warden.  The jury was unimpressed.  It took 10 minutes to arrive at a guilty verdict.  The Times explained how he managed to steal the goods.  "He was accused of having used a rear fire escape to invade the company's plant at night and carry loot away in his automobile."

The year that Wolfram was sentenced to between one and four years in prison the Maplewood Paper Mills was doing business from the Lispenard Street building.  Among the goods it produced were "nurses' Pocket Packages"--portable toilet paper.

At mid-century firms like the Crown Leather Co. were in the building, but by the 1990s Tribeca's renaissance was making its mark.  The building was home now to mostly fashion companies.

Like so many of Tribeca factory and loft buildings Nos. 46-48 Lispenard Street soon became upscale housing.  In 2014 a renovation was completed that resulted in two sprawling apartments per floor,  A duplex addition on the roof is invisible from street level.  The sympathetic re-make preserved the building's appearance of 150 years ago.

photographs by the author

The Lost Grover & Baker Bldg -- No. 495 Broadway

Cosmopolitan Art Journal 1860 (copyright expired)

 
In 1820s the neighborhood of Broadway and Broome Street was filled with brick faced homes.  At No. 495 was the boarding house of Eunitia Bicknell.  Among her respectable boarders were William Purcell, sexton of St. Thomas' Church, and his wife Adelaide who worked as a milliner.

But by the middle of the century those residences were quickly being demolished and replaced with commercial buildings.  Eunitia Bicknell's house was the site of the St. Nicholas Exhibition Room by 1854; where entertainments like Campbell's Minstrels and White's Serenaders were staged.

That year William Emerson Baker was in New York from Boston, where he and his partner William O. Grover manufactured sewing machine.  The former tailors had improved the earlier machines, building on the 1846 patent of Elias Howe.  Grover had by now received six patents of his own and the Grover & Baker machines were the fiercest competitors of Isaac Singer's devices.

The New-York Daily Tribune reported on August 10, 1854 that Baker had been approached by a man who identified himself as the Prince of Monaco.  "Mr. Baker of Boston, who is now in this city with the sewing machines of Grover, Baker & Co., declares that a man answering the description of the Prince's factorum, called upon him and offered to trade rights in land in the principality of Monaco for a sewing-machine!  The Prince, failing to annex his pen-patch kingdom to the United States, offered to trade his presumptive rights there-in for a Yankee sewing-machine."

Although the attempted ruse seems incredible today; the innovative sewing machines were indeed drawing the attention of European royalty.  Prince Napoleon Bonaparte had purchased one from North and Avery, for constructing military uniforms; while his sister, Princess Matilda, bought a Grover & Baker model.  The Tribune said "a little war is said to have taken place in the Court, all about the respective merits of the Yankee sewing machines.  The Empress stood umpire to the contending parties."

By 1857 Grover & Baker had opened a showroom at No. 495 Broadway.  Their machines were not only functional, but decorative.  The cast iron bases were ornamental and the cabinetry was finely crafted.  The New-York Daily Tribune noted on January 9, 1857 "Grover, Baker & Co. employ, to a considerable extent, the cabinetwork cases by Ross & Marshall, of this city, which makes the machine an ornament and by no means the least really valuable ornament of the sitting-room."

Newspaper advertisements for Grover & Baker's "Noiseless family sewing machines" began noting in September 1859 that they could be seen "temporarily at 501 Broadway."  The reason for the short-term abandonment of No. 495 Broadway was that the firm was updating its building.  George H. Johnson, architectural designer for Daniel Badger's Architectural Iron Works, fashioned a remarkable Gothic Revival facade for the formerly unremarkable structure.

Illustrations of Iron Architecture, published by the Architectural Iron Works in 1865, reproduced the design.  (copyright expired)

Grover & Baker was in its refurbished home early in 1860.  The elaborate iron facade was dominated by a screen of Gothic tracery and thin twisted colonnettes within a three-story arch.   The firm's name was emblazoned on an entablature above a complex Gothic corbel table.  The cornice was crowned with intricate filigree cresting.

Cosmopolitan Art Journal admired the remodeled building, saying that the firm's success was so great "that the establishment of Grover & Baker has become one of the features of Broadway--for its magnitude and beauty.  The front of their edifice...is composed wholly of cast iron, arch, fret work, cornice, window frames and all, showing how beautifully this metal is adapted to building and ornamental purposes."

The material allowed for previously impossible expanses of glass.  The two ground floor windows were 14 feet high and five feet wide; each a single pane of plate glass.  The second floor, where the Ladies' Parlor was located, held windows 10 feet tall.  Cosmopolitan Art Journal wrote "Entering the place the observer is at once in a large and elegant sales room, twenty-five feet wide by two hundred feet long.  The sales room which is elegantly furnished, is lighted by seven chandeliers, of six burners each."

Along the right side were counters and cabinets for the sale of needles, thread, and other sewing supplies.  The opposite side of the selling floor displayed the sewing machines.

Ornate cabinets held sewing supplies in the elegant ground floor showroom (left).  Upstairs, buyers learned how to operate their new purchases.  Cosmopolitan Art Journal 1860 (copyright expired)

Upstairs, buyers were instructed on using their new machines in the Ladies' Parlor.  "Skillful and obliging lady operators are in attendance, to render necessary assistance, and an hour or two generally suffices to initiate the most inexperienced into the mysteries of the whole thing."

Testimonials reprinted by Grover & Baker seem, at times, a bit exaggerated.  In November 1860 the New York Christian Advocate and Journal said "We know one lady whose appreciation of this machine, after a trial of years, is such that she would part with almost every other article of household furniture before she would allow it to be taken."

The use of the sewing machines was put towards the war effort after rebellion erupted in the South.  On November 13, 1862 The New York Times advised "The Ladies Relief Association, at the Rooms of Grover & Baker, No. 495 Broadway, ask contributions in money, or material to be made into clothing for the soldiers.  Donations of yarn will be very acceptable."

Grover & Baker continued to improve their product.  They developed the first portable sewing machine and in 1863 were awarded their tenth patent.  The Home Journal remarked on April 13 that year "we...[have] recently seen some ladies' cloaks elaborately embroidered with this Sewing machine.  The work seemed to excel anything executed by hand labor.  Beside being more rapidly and cheaply executed, the work has a more regular and consequently a much more beautiful appearance."

Less expensive and more portable machines, like this one, were less ornamented.  Harper's Weekly, April 11, 1863 (copyright expired)

Things were going extremely well for the firm.  In 1865 Grover & Baker was producing 1,000 machines per week.  Domestic models, called "Family Sewing Machines," ranged in price from $45 to $100; about $1,500 for the most expensive model in today's dollars.

The company received a financial jolt in 1867 when fire broke out in the cellar packing room at around 6:00 on the evening of February 22.  Although firemen responded quickly and "by their energetic labors, succeeded in subduing the flames before they had reached the upper floors," as reported by The New York Times, there was $25,000 in lost stock, only $15,000 of which was insured.

George H. Johnson's elaborate Gothic facade was falling from favor at around the same time.  In July 1869 John Buckingham spoke on "Iron Construction" before a meeting of the New York Draughtsmen's Association.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that he "made some very sarcastic remarks on the building on Broadway occupied by Grover and Baker, that it was 'just a big iron window stuck in front, without a particle of design about it.'"

An undated stereopticon slide captured the unique building.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

But Grover & Baker had other problems to concentrate on.  Despite their constant improvements, by 1870 their technology was outdated and their patent protections were expiring.  The Financial Panic of 1873 decimated sales and forced them to leave No. 495 Broadway.   Two years later the company was taken over by the Domestic Sewing Machine Co. and production of the Grover & Baker machines was halted.

No. 495 Broadway was taken over by woolen cloth merchants Edson Bradley & Co.  The firm was run by Edson Bradley; his son, William G. Bradley; son-in-law Hugo Hoffman; and a Mr. Church.  Unfortunately, the Financial Panic dealt a disastrous blow to their company as well.

Edson Bradley, described as "being fifty years of age, five feet ten inches in height, and weighs 220 pounds" with "grey hair and florid complexion," lived in Westchester County.  On Sunday afternoon, December 21 he left in a horse and buggy, saying he was going to take a drive.  But he never returned home.

After friends and family supposedly did an exhaustive two-day search, the police were notified.  The New York Times said that relatives "also state that Mr. Bradley has a large amount of money in his possession when he left his home, and it is supposed that he has been foully dealt with."

What the family did not know was the creditors of Edson Bradley & Co. had been having him followed by private detectives.  Bankruptcy proceedings had been discontinued when he promised that "given time he would be able to collect most of the firm's notes, and settle on a basis of seventy cents on the dollar."

When Bradley went for his "drive" that Sunday, he ended up in Brooklyn at the home of his son-in-law, where the partners of the firm, except for Church, plotted.  Detectives followed Bradley and his son to the Fifth Avenue Hotel.  On Christmas Day The New York Times reported "The elder Bradley escaped out of the ladies' entrance, and started for the Grand Central Depot."  A detective followed him to Buffalo, where he stopped to telegraph his son, and then to the Clifton House hotel in Canada.  He had with him $70,000 in gold.

On December 27 The Times updated its readers, denouncing the family's suggestions of "'aberration of mind,' 'mysterious disappearance,' and other charming theories with which the neighborhood and anxious creditors were entertained."

Hugo Hoffman confessed everything to police.  When he returned to his Brooklyn home, guarded by a detective, The Times said "Here his wife and Mrs. Bradley proceeded to upbraid him in anything but gentle tones for what they termed his falseheartedness and treachery to the other members of the family."  All three men were arrested and charged with a number of offenses.

No. 495 Broadway saw a rapid turnover of owners from 1887 through 1890.  Butler Brothers occupied the building by 1894.  Founded in the 1870s by brothers Edward, George and Charles Butler, the importing firm opened its New York location in 1880. 

Like Grover & Baker, Butler Brothers would have to temporarily move out of No. 495 when its landlord, Jeremiah C. Lyons commissioned architects Buchman & Deisler to replace the old building with a modern commercial structure.

photograph by the author

Completed in 1898 the New Era Building, an Art Nouveau tour de force, survives.  And despite its masterful design, one cannot help but wish the extraordinary Grover & Baker building were still around.