The Lost 1812 Washington Hall - 282 Broadway

Lithographer George Hayward produced this lithograph in 1853.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

On Independence Day 1809, the Washington Benevolent Society laid the cornerstone of Washington Hall on the southeast corner of Broadway and Reade Street.  (The 1876 Centennial, Illustrated commented, "in earlier times the Negro Burying Ground was located here.")  John McComb Jr., whose City Hall was rising a block to the south, was responsible for the design.

Edwin C. Hill explained in the 1922 The Historical Register, "Although intended to be used as a public hall for meetings and assemblies, it was also kept as a hotel."  Washington Hall would be considered one of the finest structures in the city. 

Construction would take four years to complete.  On July 3, 1812, the Building Committee was disbanded, "except so far as respects a settlement of claims," reported The Evening Post.  The "claims" were the workers' salaries, materials and such necessary to complete the building.  Those, said the article, would be "presented to Mr. John McComb, Junr."

Five months later, an announcement in The Evening Post on December 29 read:

This elegant and spacious Building, situated in Broadway, corner of Reed-Street [sic], is now nearly completed; and will be Let or Leased from the first of May next, or sooner if required.  It is well calculated for a splendid Hotel, having forty one Rooms, thirty-two of which are supplied with fire places.

The article deemed the large 35-by-56 foot meeting room as "the largest and most elegantly finished in the city; and has a large orchestra finished in superior style."  (The "orchestra" was the balcony for musicians.)  There were also six "elegantly finished" rooms for "dining or supper parties."  Two of them were connected by folding doors for larger affairs.  

Americana Illustrated, January 1912 (copyright expired)

Daniel W. Crocker had answered that ad.  He leased the building and on October 18, 1813 announced in The New-York Evening Post that Washington Hall, "is now opened for the accommodation of the public as a Hotel."  He described it as being, "replete with every convenience."  Somewhat oddly, guests would not be sleeping in Washington Hall proper.  Crocker wrote, "The rooms are spacious and airy, and the bed-rooms (in a building separate from the Hotel) are neat, convenient and retired, with one bed in each room."

On the ground floor was the Coffee Room, "in which the daily papers will be kept and which will be open to the public," said Crocker.  He noted that it and the public dining room opened onto Broadway.  On the Reade Street side was the Porter Room, which Crocker described as "not excelled for convenience and cosiness [sic]," adding, "Here refreshments (of every sort) may be had at the shortest notice."  Crocker described the main Assembly Room on the second floor as "the most elegant and spacious" in New York City or, "perhaps in the United States."

Edwin C. Hill explained that the Washington Benevolent Society "was not organized as a political association, its members were mostly of the Federal Party."  Because of that, Washington Hall would become the headquarters of the Federal Party.  

Five months before the hotel was opened for business, the Assembly Hall saw its first grand event.  The United States and Great Britain were engaged in the War of 1812.  On February 22, 1812, Captain James Lawrence's USS Hornet sank the HMS Peacock, an 18-gun Royal Navy warship.  Lawrence and his crew visited New York City in May 1813 and the City Council hosted a lavish banquet in his honor.  (One month later, during the battle in which he famously ordered "Don't give up the ship!", Lawrence was fatally wounded.)

Another lavish affair linked to the war was held in the Assembly Room the following year.  Valentine's Manuel of Old New York would recall in 1921:

One of the most notable events of its history was when in 1814 a magnificent ball was given to celebrate the longed-for restoration of peace between England and America.  The superb ballroom was magnificently decorated and was crowded with a brilliant company of the elite of old New York.  The newspapers of the day described the scene as "a picture of feminine loveliness, beauty, fashion and elegance not to be surpassed in America.

Among the groups that rented rooms here was the Bread and Cheese Club, a literary group founded by Fenimore Cooper in 1824.  In its February 16, 1920 issue, The Mentor noted that the club "took its name from the fact that candidates were balloted for by bread and cheese."  Among its members were William Cullen Bryant, Henry Halleck and Gulian Verplanck.

The hotel portion hosted notable figures, none more so than President Martin Van Buren who stayed here in 1839.  On July 7, he was visited by Hannah Gouge.  The 104-year-old, according to The Morning Herald, "retains the possession of all her faculties, and has a most perfect and vivid recollection of her visit to General Washington."  Hannah, who lost three sons in the Revolution, had been presented to every President except Andrew Jackson.

Washington Hall continued to be the venue of glittering balls, prestigious banquets, meetings and entertainments.  On January 26, 1844, for instance, separate articles in the New-York Daily Tribune announced the "special meeting of the Third Ward Clay Club;" an upcoming concert by Sophie Gjertz, "pianist to the Royal Family of Denmark;" and a lecture "of Mr. Shea" that would "possess the deepest interest to lovers of Ireland."

At the time of the articles, the building had recently been "repaired and fitted up at considerable expense," according to the New York Herald, which added it was "decorated in a most superb manner."

Both Sides of Broadway, From Bowling Green to Central Park, New York City, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Assembly Room was booked for a ball on July 5, 1844.  At 7:00 that morning, a small fire was discovered in "one of the chimneys at the back of the building," as reported by the New York Herald.  It was quickly put out and forgotten.  Then, about three hours later, "it was found that the roof at the back immediately over the upper bedrooms was in flames."  The fire spread rapidly and several fire engines were on the scene within minutes.  The newspaper said the firefighters were "followed by a great mob whose evident object was plunder, for they kept running about from room to room making 'confusion worse confounded,' breaking the furniture and pilfering little articles that were lying about."  The New York Herald said that firefighters warned the intruders that they would be trapped by flames if they did not leave "and in a very short time the building was comparatively cleared of these blackguards."

In the meantime, employees rushed to salvage valuable items, like the large portrait of George Washington, some mirrors and furniture.  The New York Herald said in part:

The ball-room was kept locked until the roof began to fall in, and the flames to make their appearance...It was found impossible to save the splendid chandeliers with which this room was adorned, in consequence of the burning fragments which was [sic] continually falling, and the beams from which they were suspended having become ignited.  In a short time afterwards the chandeliers fell, and were utterly destroyed.

On October 16, 1844, The Evening Post reported, "Washington Hall (or rather the ruins of Washington Hall) was sold yesterday for $62,500 to Mr. Stewart, dry goods merchant, of Broadway, who will convert it into handsome stores."  (Department store mogul Alexander Turney Stewart was among the nation's wealthiest merchants.)

On the night of April 7, 1845, Mayor Philip Hone wrote in his journal that Stewart "is preparing to erect on the ground a dry goods store, spacious and magnificent beyond anything of the kind in New York."  He noted, "In removing the rubbish after the hall was burned the corner stone was brought to light and exhumed this morning."

On the site of Washington Hall, Stewart erected his "Marble Palace," which, enlarged, survives.

from the collection of the New York Public Library

The Lost Cullman Bros. Building - 161 Front Street

 

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Jacob and Joseph F. Cullman learned the tobacco trading business from their father, Ferdinand Kullman, who had been a tobacco merchant in Germany.  Now in America and with a newly-spelled surname, the brothers founded Cullman Bros. in 1892.  The company initially purchased American and foreign grown tobacco for resale to cigar manufacturers.  The enterprising brothers would continually grow their business--adding and changing their plan, acquiring other firms, and diversifying.  By the early 20th century, Cullman Bros. made its own cigars, and starting in 1906 manufactured cigars for an auxiliary firm, United Cigar Manufacturers Company.  (In 1917 United Cigar Manufacturers Company was renamed General Cigar Co., Inc.)

Joseph F. Cullman additionally dealt in Lower Manhattan real estate by the early 1910s.  On December 25, 1915, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported, "Mr. Cullman recently sold eight buildings, comprising the block front on Burling slip from Pearl to Water street."  The article said he had also just purchased five loft buildings in the same neighborhood to be "remodeled and reconstructed" for rental.  Importantly, it said that Joseph Cullman had recently bought "161-163 Front street, corner of Fletcher, which is about to be improved with a marble building for the occupancy of Cullman Bros."

Cullman had spent $48,000 for the 2,000-square-foot corner property.  A few weeks before the Record & Guide's article, on November 6, the New York Herald reported, "Mr. Cullman will construct for Cullman Bros. a two or three story marble building to be used exclusive for their business."

By the time architect Aymar Embury II filed plans in March 1916, the project had been scaled back.  The plans called for a one-story office building which would cost $20,000 to construct, or about $605,000 in 2026 terms.

The soaring ceiling height of the single-story building made it the equivalent of a two-story structure.  Embury's neo-Federal design smacked more of a bank than office building.  Sitting on a stone water table, the red brick facade was trimmed in marble.  Elegant arched windows were separated by shallow pilasters.  They supported a reeded entablature decorated with urns and blind rondels.  A brick parapet, interrupted by marble balustrades on the Front Street side, sat atop the cornice.

image via the NYC Department of Records and Information Services.

By the World War I years, Joseph Cullman's sons, Howard and Joseph Jr., were highly involved in the business.  They, too, were highly entrepreneurial and civic minded.  On June 7, 1918, for instance, The New York Times reported that Joseph Jr. was organizing the 306th Infantry Auxiliary, and on July 23, 1919, the Tobacco Record announced:

Joseph S. Cullman Jr. of the leaf tobacco firm of Cullman Bros., 161 Front street, is the directing force behind the big drive to win the cooperation of the many business interests in the metropolitan district in making the biggest kind of a success of the Actors' Memorial campaign.

The article noted that Cullman had been "active in a number of drives during the war."

The interior of the Cullman Bros. building was as bank-like inside as out.  photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In 1921, Joseph Jr. and Howard spearheaded a movement to clean up the downtown riverfront area.  On June 15, 1921, the New York Herald reported, "A conference to consider the abatement of cinder showers from stacks of a steam manufacturing plant near Burling Slip will be held to-morrow at the offices of Cullman Brothers, 161 Front Street."  That meeting resulted in the Cinder Committee of the Downtown League, headquartered in the Cullman Bros. building.  Three years later, the fight was ongoing.  On January 17, 1924, The New York Times reported that the committee "went on record 'condemning the company's plant.'"  (The offensive plant was operated by the New York Steam Company.)

In the meantime, Joseph Cullman Sr. remained the head of the firm.  He expanded by purchasing land in Connecticut for growing wrapper tobacco.  He and Howard were highly involved in Mount Sinai Hospital.  Joseph sat on its board and was chairman of the committee on medical instruction, and Howard was its president beginning in the early 1920s.

Joseph Cullman Sr. died on August 1, 1938 at the age of 83.  In reporting his death, The New York Times remarked, "Until two months ago, he had been going regularly to his office at 161 Front Street, home of the wholesale tobacco firm of Cullman Brothers, of which he was board chairman and former president."  Joseph Jr. was president and Howard vice-president of the firm.

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Ten years earlier, Joseph and Howard organized the Tobacco & Allied Stocks, Inc. a tobacco trust.  By 1938 it controlled Benson & Hedges and in 1954, Joseph and his son, Joseph III, became part of Philip Morris's executive staff through a $22.4 million deal.  Another son, Edgar Meyer Cullman, joined Cullman Bros. in the 1940s.  He was in charge of operating the 600-acre Connecticut tobacco farm and sales.

Cullman Bros. and General Cigar Co., Inc. continued to grow and change.  In 1944, General Cigar introduced the Robert Burns Cigarillo--a panatela cigar that closely resembled a cigarette.

In 1961, Edgar Meyer Cullman purchased General Cigar.  At the time, it was the largest maker of mass produced cigars in the country.  By 1966, the firm had relocated to Midtown.  (Cullman Bros. would eventually become Culbro.)

Aymar Embury II's elegant one-story office building did not survive.  It was razed and the plot was used for a parking lot "for 21 passenger motor vehicles," as described by the Department of Buildings.  In 2015, the 31-story Fairfield Inn & Suites building opened on the site.

image via tripadvisor.com

The Lost Clinton Hall - Beekman and Nassau Streets

A public pump sits opposite Clinton Hall.  The fence surrounds the churchyard of the Old Brick Church.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Established in 1820 and opened on February 1821 at 49 Fulton Street, the Mercantile Library Association afforded a reading room and library for young clerks just beginning their business careers.  In 1829, its members established the Clinton Hall Association (named for beloved New York City Mayor and Governor DeWitt Clinton, who died the previous year) to erect a formidable new building.  The site chosen was formerly occupied by the 1761 theater in which Hamlet was first staged in the United States.  At the southwest corner of Beekman and Nassau Streets, it faced the 1767 Old Brick Church.  Scribner's Monthly would remark decades later, "Beekman street was pretty well up town in those days."

The association hired 26-year-old architect Alexander Jackson Davis to design the multi-use structure.  (Davis partnered with Ithiel Town, a respected and well-established architect, that same year.  Although it would make sense that Clinton Hall was a collaboration of the pair, only Davis is listed as its designer.)  

On July 21, 1829, The Evening Post reported on the cornerstone laying ceremony.  It began at noon with "a procession composed of the Trustees and the Clergymen, who were to officiate,...the subscribers, the Mercantile Library Association, and the members of other public Institutions" from City Hall to the site.  The stone was laid "in the midst of a large assembly of citizens" by Isaac Carow, vice president of the Chamber of Commerce, and Alexander Jackson Davis.

Dedicated on November 2, 1830, Davis's Greek Revival design successfully disguised the fact that the structure was, in fact, two separate buildings.  The New York Annual Register of 1831 explained, "The cost of the building was about $50,000, independent of Clinton Hotel, the property of Philip Hone, Esq. which is under the same roof, fronting on Beekman-street, and cost about the same as the Hall."  (Not coincidentally, Philip Hone was the chairman of the Mercantile Library Association.)  The combined construction cost would translate to about $3.5 million in 2026.  

The New-York Annual Register, 1831 (copyright expired)

The granite base was girded by a low flight of stone stairs.  It contained stores--six in the Clinton Hall portion and two in the hotel--that provided income.  The upper three floors were faced in brick "stuccoed in imitation of stone," said the New-York Annual Register.  Calling it a "noble and substantial edifice," the register said Clinton Hall was "dedicated to Literature, Science, and the Arts."  Within the upper floors were the Mercantile Library's large lecture room, library,  and reading room.  (The lecture room could be rented by outside groups.)

Philip Hone, who served as mayor from 1826 to 1827, hired Joseph M. Bispham to run his hotel.  On October 20, 1830, The Evening Post reported, "This elegant and commodious establishment is not completed...We understand Mr. Bispham is especially qualified to discharge the duties of the Host, and that his gentlemanly manners will render Clinton Hotel a place of fashionable resort and temporary residence."  The article added, "Its connexion [sic] with Clinton Hall will always preserve it as a conspicuous point in the public eye."

The Clinton Hall Bookstore was among the first of the commercial tenants.  The New-York Annual Register, 1831 (copyright expired)

In addition to housing the Mercantile Library, Clinton Hall was designed to accommodate long-term tenants.  Perhaps the first was the National Academy of Design, which moved in in 1830.  Frank Leslie's Popular Monthly said that starting in 1831, the academy's annual exhibitions "were held in much more commodious and altogether more suitable rooms, on the third floor of the Mercantile Library, in Clinton Hall."  The article reported that the National Academy of Design paid an annual rent of $500 (or $18,000 today) "for these apartments."

On November 11, 1831, The Evening Post noted that the National Academy would be opening its "school of the Antique," saying, "The instructors will be the gentlemen of the council."

from the collection of the New York Public Library

To pay for the building's construction, the directors sold Clinton Hall Stock.  But, "the sickness which shortly after prevailed in the city," as worded by The Evening Post, abruptly halted the fund-raising.  The city was ravaged by a cholera epidemic that took the lives of between 3,500 and 3,515 New Yorkers.  Roughly one third of the city's residents fled northward.  On January 9, 1832, The Evening Post reported, "Eighteen thousand dollars yet remain to be subscribed for, ere the Board of Trustees can proceed with vigor to the attainment of the magnificent ends aimed by this institution."

But at the time of the article, things were returning to normal.  On the same page was a notice that, "A course of lectures is to be commenced to-morrow evening, at Clinton Hall...The subject is Political Economy."

New York University's 1916 Annual Catalogue would recall its early years: "The work began with instruction in the Undergraduate College with special courses in Mathematics and Physical Science in the fall of 1832, the classes being held in Clinton Hall."

Although slavery was abolished in New York City in 1827, the city's economic dependence on the South placed its abolitionists overwhelmingly in the minority.  That was vividly shown in a passage in The American Metropolis:

To Tammany belongs the honor of the first victory over abolitionists in New York City.  In 1833 abolitionists attempted to hold their first meeting at Clinton Hall (Nassau and Beekman Streets).  It was prevented by a riotous crowd, which promptly celebrated its victory by adjourning to Tammany Hall and passing resolutions denouncing abolition.

Publisher Daniel Appleton established a bookstore in the Clinton Hotel side of the building.  It sold his own publications as well as books imported from England.   

James Gordon Bennett, the publisher of the New York Herald, rented offices in Clinton Hall as early as 1836.  That year the fiery publisher began a campaign "in favor of the great mass of the tenantry of New York, against the grasping landlords," in his words.  He was served an eviction notice in February 1837.

Bennett's editorial in the New York Herald on February 8 said that he had paid his quarterly rent in advance and that his eviction was "in consequence" of his campaign for renters.

I have every reason to believe that the Clinton Hall Association, a species of Real Estate Monopoly, composed as it is of speculators and fanatics, have determined to violate the implied engagements of their Agent with me, and to turn me out, as a punishment for my manifold transgressions towards the cause of the rich and powerful.

Upscale hotels were constant targets of burglars and the Clinton Hotel was no exception.  On November 23, 1843, the National Anti-Slavery Standard titled an article "Something New" and reported that two thieves, Richard Martin and George Fisher, had been arrested "for stealing wearing apparel from Clinton hotel."  They had an innovative burglary tool, "an instrument for turning a key outside, which has been turned by a person inside, and left in the door."

from the collection of the New York Public Library

By the mid-1840s, the Clinton Hotel was operated by Simon and Warren Leland.  (The brothers would later conceive of hotel chains.)  The problem of hotel thievery became personal to him in 1847.  On December 8 The Evening Post reported that William Seiler, an employee in the hotel, had been arrested for "stealing a frock coat from Warren Leland."  The young man had been hired four months earlier and during that time, "coats, &c. have been taken to the amount of $100."

In July 1848, The Institution for the Savings of Merchants' Clerks, a bank for young businessmen, opened on the ground floor.  The institution had been incorporated just three months earlier.  It would become the Union Square Savings Bank in 1905.

The Clinton Hotel hosted wealthy Americans and distinguished foreigners.  On June 21, 1851, for instance, The Evening Post reported that the entourage of "Count Villaneva, Intendent General of the Island of Cuba," were occupying rooms here.  Included were "Count Villanova, the Count's private Secretaries--Colonel Pinillas, General Carrillo--Colonel Pasejo and family, Post Captain Amero, Colonel Delango, and their servants."

At the time, the end of the line for the hotel and the Mercantile Library's occupancy in Clinton Hall was nearing.  On June 9, 1854, the New York Herald reported, "The Mercantile Library for several years past has been much cramped for room in its quarters in Beekman street, and after the urgent solicitations of its members, the Clinton Hall Association decided to purchase a more favorable site for the institution."  The association purchased the Astor Place Opera House on Astor Place.  The Mercantile Library Association's annual report in January 1855 said that the move from Clinton Hall was effected on June 8, 1854.

Two years later, in February 1856, a days-long auction of the furnishings of the Clinton Hotel began.  Hundreds of lots, including "a very large assortment of China and Glass Ware," mahogany dining tables and "several very large size Oil Paintings, very valuable," were sold.  The New York Times reported, "The Clinton Hotel property has been purchased by the Park Bank Company for $115,000."  The article said the bank would "fit up the old house temporarily."

The renovated Astor Place Opera House was renamed Clinton Hall.  Confusingly, the Beekman Street building retained the name, as well.  The downtown building was converted to offices, many of which were occupied by publishing firms.  Ironically, one of the new tenants was office of the Anti-Slavery Association.  

Other tenants in the 1860s were W. H. Bidwell, publisher of Bidwell's American Theological Review and W. H. Bidwell's Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature; the newspaper Independent, and Rev. John Marsh's Journal of the American Temperance Union.  One non-publishing tenant was financier and president of the Atlantic Telegraph Company, Cyrus Field, here as early as 1863. 

In 1881, banker Eugene Kelly purchased and demolished Clinton Hall.  On its site, he commissioned Silliman & Farnsworth to design a ten-story office building, the Temple Court Building.

King's Handbook of New York City, 1892 (copyright expired)

The New York County Courthouse - 60 Centre Street

 

photograph by wallyg

Twenty-two architects submitted designs for a new New York County Courthouse in 1913.  Guy Lowell, a Boston architect, won the competition with his "round building."  On April 19, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide remarked that the substantial commission came with side effects.  "Mr. Lowell will have about two thousand working and detail drawings to prepare, and it will be necessary for him to engage a larger force of draftsmen and larger quarters."  The article added that from his $200,000 fee, about $130,000 of that would be eaten up by "office expenses."

The journal explained that the winning design would now go to "the Court House Board and their architect, Walter Cook," for approval.  That process would initiate the first domino to fall in a long string of disappointments and delays.  On June 21, 1913, the Record & Guide reported, "The justices of the Supreme Court rejected on Tuesday...Mr. Guy Lowell's court house plan."

The borough president invited a committee of five architects to suggest "modifications" to Lowell's circular plan.  They handed Lowell a number of suggested sketches and he subsequently "prepared modified sketches."  Nearly a year later, on May 16, 1916, the Record & Guide reported on the "modified design for the courthouse," saying that the exterior of the building was "only slightly changed."

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, May 16, 1914 (copyright expired)

Lowell's task was, by no means, finished.  On April 24, 1913, the Record & Guide reported that the courthouse site had been "amended."  The article noted, "Guy Lowell, the architect, is to have the revised plan of the building ready by May 1.  He has a large force of draftsmen at work."

The revised Courthouse site.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, April 24, 1915 (copyright expired)

But red tape, construction costs, and a world war continued to retard the process of erecting a county courthouse.  Then, on November 29, 1919, seven years after Guy Lowell's initial design was accepted, the Record & Guide wrote, "Final action has been taken, after years of effort, upon the plan for a new County court house in Manhattan.  Radical changes, however, will be made in the structure in size, layout, and in cost."

Lowell's original plans projected the cost at between $15,000,000 and $20,000,000 (about $372 million in 2026 terms).  The article said, "The new court house is expected to cost about $6,000,000 and its completion is looked for in about two years.  It will be hexagonal in shape."  Lowell's revised design was "on a less elaborate scale."

Lowell released the revised downscaled rendering in December 1919.  Record & Guide December 20, 1919 (copyright expired)

The new hexagonal design provided for 32 courtrooms for the Supreme Court and ten for the City Court.  "The new Court House will be built of the same excellent materials and will have the same carefully worked out conveniences as the building originally planned," explained the Record & Guide on December 20, 1919.  The article detailed:

The entire exterior, including the porch, will be of granite of a warm tone.  A fine porch or portico will occupy the westerly one of the six sides, giving character and dignity to the building...The other five sides, occupied by the courts, depend for their architectural effect on careful composition--produced by the skillful balancing of void and well space, so that there are no columns or architectural projections to shut off light from the court room windows.

Excavation for the foundation had started in 1918, a year before that article.  And yet Lowell would have to make one more significant change.  On September 4, 1920, he explained in a letter to Fiorello La Guardia, president of the Board of Aldermen, that the granite--a part of the plans since 1913--was now too expensive to use.  He said in part, "we cannot afford all the enhancement that we could allow ourselves some years ago."  Explaining that limestone would be "$600,000 less than the available granite bid," he suggested the former material.  He said, "You see that, though I would have liked granite, I have not allowed my personal preferences to supersede my real wish, which is to give the city the best we can for the money."

Construction was once again delayed by an obstacle that never should have happened.  On November 23, 1920 the Washington D.C. Evening Star reported that the cartage firm Holland & Co. "began dumping ashes in the New York county courthouse excavation in February 1918, and continued doing so until recently."  Now, said the article, the city would have to spend "nearly $400,000 for removal of these ashes so that construction can be begun."

The dignified building sat alone upon its completion in 1927.  photograph by Wurts. Bros from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

In February 1927, 14 years after Guy Lowell first sat before his drafting table and two weeks after his death, the New York County Court House was completed.  The Record & Guide said, "From the porch a collonaded [sic] lobby on the first or main floor leads to the central rotunda."  It and that lobby, said the article, "are paved with marble and have limestone columns and dado."  

The Supreme Court rooms were on the third and fourth floors.  The fifth and sixth floors were set back "leaving a space which can be used as a terrace."  Those levels held the upper part of the two-story library, the justices' reading room, dining room, justice's chambers and such.  "Each Justice's chambers consists of a small vestibule, a secretary's room, and the chamber proper," explained the Record & Guide.

The first floor plan.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide December 20, 1919 (copyright expired)

The costly structure came with a restriction taken for granted today, but highly unusual in 1920.  On March 17, The New York Times reported, "Warning cards against smoking, such as are posted in factories, on which the penalties for violations are printed, confronted attorneys and others having business in the new New York County courthouse yesterday."

An outgrowth of the Great Depression was the Works Progress Administration, which provided jobs to out-of-work Americans.  One segment found work for artists, who suddenly found themselves decorating the walls and ceilings of civic buildings throughout the country.  Included in the massive project were the decorations of the corridors, rotunda, courtrooms and assembly rooms of the New York County Courthouse.

On July 26, 1934, the Springfield Weekly Republic quoted critic Edward Alden Jewell, who panned Attillio Pusteria's new foyer murals in the New York County Courthouse as too traditional.  

The ceiling of the foyer, decorated by Attilio Pusteria.  photo by Peter Vanderwarker from the collection of the Historical Society of the New York Courts.

He said they were "precisely the decorations one would expect to find beyond the massive Corinthian columns of the portico" and complained that they represent the "inevitable allegories, such as Justice, Judgement, Mercy and Enforcement."  Jewell grumbled that American artists were being forced "to paint in the manner of Raphael."

The rotunda with its inlaid marble floors, limestone columns and 1934 dome decoration.  photo by Peter Vanderwarker from the collection of the Historical Society of the New York Courts.

Another group complained about the decoration.  But, unlike Jewell, they were not indignant about the artistic rendering, but about one particular image.  On December 19, 1936, The Detroit Tribune reported that "after a protest had been made by Harlem leaders," the Municipal Art Commission had agreed "that the WPA mural in the New York County Courthouse showing a colored man eating watermelon was 'frivolous,' and said the offending picture would be erased and something else substituted."

The New York County Courthouse became, of course, the scene of hearings and trials from the mundane to the most sensational.  In September 1938, Tammany District Leader James J. Hines, accused of "selling political protection to the underworld," was prosecuted by fledgling District Attorney Thomas E. Dewey.  Hines smugly walked out of the courthouse surrounded by a throng of reporters on September 12.  The Washington D.C. Evening Star explained that the judge "ordered a mistrial yesterday on the grounds that the youthful prosecutor by a verbal slip had 'fatally prejudiced' the jury against the white-haired political boss."

And on December 20, 1952, The New York Times began an article saying, "The man generally considered the most feared figure in the underworld was the principal witness at yesterday's hearing into waterfront conditions by the State Crime Commission.  He was Albert Anastasia, and his defiant appearance on the stand was the most dramatic incident of the hearings to date."

When the New York County Courthouse first opened, one of its elevator operators was Dominick Lupiano, a 48-year-old immigrant from Italy who had run an elevator in the old courthouse building for several years.  Decades later, the Washington D.C. Evening Star would say that he and his wife, Roselle, "scrimped" to put their son, Vincent, through law school.  On one occasion, State Supreme Court Justice Robert F. Wagner, Sr. mentioned to Lupiano, "One day, Dominick, you may be taking one of your own sons up to his own chambers.  In this country anything is possible, you know."

Lupiano retired after 40 years of service.  But the now-84-year-old came back on January 4, 1955.  That day Vincent A. Lupiano was sworn in as a justice of the State Supreme Court.  The Evening Star said:  "After the swearing-in ceremony, Dominick Lupiano donned his old elevator operator's uniform cap with a flourish.  Beaming, he escorted Justice Vincent Lupiano to the elevator and took him upstairs to his chambers."

Another set of high profile trials was held here in 1970.  Sixteen members of the Black Panthers were tried on "charges of conspiring to bomb Manhattan department stores, the Bronx Botanical Gardens, police stations, subway switching-rooms and railroad tracks," said The New York Times on February 1.  (The trials ended with mixed guilty pleas, murder convictions and dismissed charges.)

In March 1988, the restoration of the rotunda mural, Law Through the Ages, was initiated.  Somewhat surprisingly, The New York Times reported that the project "is being paid for by lawyers and judges in the building."

photograph by Beyond My Ken

Guy Lowell's dignified and stately Roman Classical style structure has not only been the venue of serious legal trials, but it has inspired producers throughout the decades.  The broad exterior staircase and monumental columns have appeared in countless movies and television shows.  And it remains a crucial element in the architectural personality of Foley Square.

The 1914 Municipal Building - 1 Centre Street

 

photograph by Momos

As early as 1884, the city's government had outgrown the 1812 City Hall building.  Plans for a Municipal Building that would "contain the different departments that are now housed in rented quarters," as described by the Real Estate Record & Guide in October 25, 1890, were varied.  The article said that the Municipal Building Commission had considered sites on St. Mark's Place and East 6th Street, but had decided on City Hall Park, which was already owned by the city.  The New York Times explained that several structures, including City Hall, the Post Office and the Court House, would have to be demolished.

A vote in the State Senate on February 25, 1890 challenged the idea.  The New York Times reported that legislators balked at the loss of a public park.  They further argued, "The City Hall is architecturally and historically too valuable, and the Court House and the Post Office are too substantial and costly to be removed."  (The sensitivity to City Hall's architectural importance, or even its recognition, was highly unusual for the time.)

A year later, however, the plan looked promising.  On March 28, 1891, The New York Times reported that Mayor Hugh J. Grant was pushing hard for the plan.  The article explained:

He was fully aware of the fact that there was opposition to the scheme of tearing down the old City Hall, but so far as he had been able to determine this was the expression only of sentimentalism which should not be allowed to stand in the way of the city's progress.

Ready to fight the mayor, said the article, was the Architectural League of America, which "would condemn the proposition to tear down the old City Hall."

City Hall seemed doomed following a two-hour meeting in the private office of the new mayor, Thomas Gilroy, on March 28, 1893.  The Municipal Building Commission and the Advisory Committee of Architects agreed with Gilroy and his predecessor.  A site map was released showing the proposed $4 million structure sitting directly on top of the City Hall site, its northern wings engulfing the Court House.

The New York Times, March 29, 1883 (copyright expired)

A contest for the design of the Municipal Building was opened shortly after, with the deadline for submission at noon on September 1, 1893.  The 130 architects had toiled in vain, as it turned out.  The battle to save City Hall was far from over.

Andrew Haswell Green was well known to New Yorkers.  He had been highly involved in the development of open spaces including Central Park, Riverside Drive, and Morningside Park.  He wrote a lengthy, pleading open letter to the Parks Commissioners in February 1894.  It said in part:

The City Hall presents an example of fine architectural taste.  In design and construction it is faultless as any structure in the city, while its historical and biographical relations involve events of paramount interest and personages of dignity and estimation, and, as has been well said, "It stands to-day unsurpassed by any structure of its kind in the country."  It should continue to stand, as for nearly a century it has stood, ample, commodious, and convenient.

It would be more than a decade before a committee agreed to  find an alternative site for the Municipal Building, and to preserve the Court House and City Hall, and renovate the park.  Finally, on May 9, 1908, the Record & Guide published a rendering of the new building, designed by William M. Kendall of McKim, Mead & White.  The site, facing City Hall Park on the east side of Centre Street, had proved a challenge for him.

The article said, "The peculiar shape of the lot...at the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, made the architectural problem, as well as the problem of light and air an unusual one."  Also challenging was "the problem of construction over the subway without interfering with the passage of trains."  Kendall had chosen "the classic style" for the building, said the article, "following the accepted traditions of buildings of a civic character throughout the country from the earliest times down."

McKim, Mead & White released the above rendering on May 8, 1908.  Real Estate Record & Guide (copyright expired)

As construction progressed, on June 27, 1909 The New York Times began an article saying, "New Yorkers thrive on superlatives."  It reminded readers of the Municipal Building's unique elements: "a subway running through its basement, an elevated railroad on its second floor, with streets on every side of it, and one passing directly through it."  

On December 27, 1909, Mayor George B. McClellan, Jr. and Bridge Commissioner James W. Stevenson oversaw the laying of the four-ton, Maine granite cornerstone "of what is to be the largest, most elaborate, and most ornate municipal building of any city in the world," according to The New York Times.  The article said construction would be completed by January 1912 at a cost of "about $14,000,000."  (That figure would translate to nearly $500 million in 2026).

 Real Estate Record & Guide (copyright expired)

The article went on to describe Kendall's design, saying it would rise 25 floors to an eight-story tower.  "The general style is to be French Renaissance...The ornamental front of the building on Centre Street, with a long row of fifty-foot pillars, will be broken in the centre by an arched arcade through which Chambers Street will be run through the building."  Kendall strayed from the French Renaissance with that arcade, which was inspired by the ancient Arch of Constantine in Rome.

photograph by Jgrenaldy

Constructing a massive building adjacent to the subway was not only challenging, but dangerous.  On June 4, 1910, The New York Times reported that the east side of the excavation for the Municipal Building's foundation collapsed.  "A mountain of sand behind the shoring suddenly shifted and buried three workmen," said the article.  "Some of the timbers knocked over two others."  One of those workers, James McClellan, was buried to the neck and pinned by timbers.  The article explained, "further movements of the sand threatened to bury him completely."  Two priests, Father John Curry and Father Luke J. Evers, were lowered into the pit where they gave the last sacraments to McClellan.  Three hours later, fortunately, he was extricated and removed to a hospital.

Three months later, on September 3, a second cave in took place, this time on the western side.  It undid significant work.  The New York Times reported, "The sewer and water pipes along the line of the cave-in were torn away."  Happily, this time no workers were injured.

Within months after that setback, the building began taking shape.  On April 23, 1911, McKim, Mead & White announced that the tower of the structure was "designed in the modern classic style, and will be built of Maine granite of a light tone."  Not yet decided, according to The New York Times, was "a figure to top the tower."  The firm said "a number of figures are being considered."

Disaster struck again on June 28, 1911.  The New York Times reported, "The highest blaze ever fought by the Fire Department...was discovered early last evening on the twenty-fifth floor of the new Municipal Building, now in course of construction."  The stand pipes did not yet extend above the 21st floor.  The article said, "The firemen tried to extinguish the fire by throwing on sand, but the blaze was beyond their control."  The fire fighters were also endangered by the fact that the floors at that level were not yet floored over.  They "were compelled to walk in line and carry a lighted lantern," said the article.  Hoses were hauled up from the 21st floor stand pipe and eventually the fire was extinguished.

The next week, on July 3, the building was topped off.  "Just before stopping work last night," reported The Times, "several hundred iron workers on the new Municipal Building...unfurled a large American flag to show they had reached the highest point of the structure."

On May 8, 1913, Adolph A. Weinman's gilded statue, Civic Fame, was installed atop the tower.  Although the building was still under construction, the first tenants moved in seven months later.  

Not everyone was happy with Kendall's results.   On January 22, 1914, Mayor John Purroy Mitchel told a meeting of the Sinking Fund Commissioners, "The building was planned badly in its original conception and is largely a waste of space as now constructed."  The board's commissioner noted, "this undoubtedly can be attributed to the fact that the site was a bad one in the beginning."  The president of the Board of Aldermen added his thought.  "We have the building and we must make the best of it."

On January 22, 1914, the New-York Tribune wrote, "If the protests of city department heads are to be believed, the fine white Municipal Building is a fine white elephant; cost to date, some $15,000,000; and value for the original purpose, doubtful."  The article admitted, "The Municipal Building is good to look at."  But it added, should it not adequately fulfill the needs of the city departments, "Miss New York on the top of the tower may have cause to hide her face in her robes for shame at the waste."

A vintage postcard shows the Municipal Building as the highest structure in the district. (copyright expired)

Borough President Marcus M. Marks came to Kendall's and the building's defense.  The Evening World reported on February 23, 1924, "He pointed to the wonderful capacity of the building with its fourteen acres of net floor space, its thousand offices, supplying 5,000 employees with plenty of natural light, and figures that office space in the new structure will cost the city...$1.33 per square foot, as against an average price of $1.76 per square foot paid during the past two years for rented space."

original photograph from the author's collection

Another complaint was almost unbelievable.  On June 21, 1914, the New York Herald reported, "Don't believe anybody who tells you that it's an optical illusion which makes you think that Miss Civic Virtue, or whatever the official name of the bronze lady on the top of the Municipal Building tower is, has hiked her gilt skirts up hysterically during the past few days and is trying to stand even higher on her pedestal than heretofore."  

As construction began, two cats "fell into the excavation," said the New York Herald.  And then, "nature took its course."  By the time the building opened, "the cats in the building grew so numerous that something had to be done."  The newspaper said that the city had eliminated to date 63 feral felines.  The problem now, said the article, "mice frolic gayly" within the building.

photograph by Ken Lund

Despite the early denunciation of the structure, the Municipal Building (renamed the David N. Dinkins Manhattan Municipal Building on October 15, 2015) has become an architectural landmark of the lower Manhattan skyscape.  William M. Kendall's ability to conform his design to the awkward footprint, his striking entrance arcade, and the structure's soaring presence topped with Civic Fame is integral to the City Hall and Foley Square architectural neighborhood.