The Lost Havemeyer Building -- 26 Cortlandt Street

 

The elevated train tracks can be seen running along Church Street in 1893.  from King's Handbook of New York City, 1893 (copyright expired)

William Havemeyer established one of the first sugar refineries in New York, Havemeyer & Elder.  By the last decade of the 19th century, the extended family had amassed massive personal fortunes.  In 1891, Theodore A. Havemeyer, who lived in a sumptuous Murray Hill mansion at 244 Madison Avenue, purchased the eastern blockfront of Church Street between Cortland and Dey Streets for $450,000 (about $15.5 million in 2025).  The New York Times remarked on April 22, "The site, which is 200 feet on Church Street by 60 feet front on Dey and Cortlandt Streets, is now covered with old-fashioned five-story brick buildings."

One of the tenants Havemeyer inherited posed a problem for his plans to erect a "new million-dollar, fireproof, fifteen-story office and business block," as described by The Times.  C. W. Meyer was described by the newspaper as "a young man, the son of a Brooklyn liquor dealer."  In 1889, he had signed a ten-year lease on the building at the northeast corner of Cortlandt and Church Streets for his saloon, the Three Owls.  He refused to give up his lease and close his recently opened tavern.  Eventually, Havemeyer gave him an offer he could not refuse.  Architecture and Building later reported, "he paid $40,000 to a liquor seller who had a ten years' lease on the place."  C. W. Meyer walked away with an incentive equal to more than $1 million today.

The New York Times announced, "The building which the sugar king intends to erect will be constructed according to plans which have been drawn by Mr. George B. Post."  The article noted that the cost would be "nearly a million dollars" and that it was expected to be completed within the year.

To support his 15 stories, Post turned to the "cage frame" system--a transitional process between masonry and skeleton construction.  The structural iron was embedded within self-supporting exterior walls.  Perhaps because the construction of skyscrapers was still somewhat experimental, a disaster occurred on the building site on May 5, 1892.  

At 3:15, while about 20 men were at work in the basement and sub-cellar, concrete was being poured at the second floor.  The Evening World reported, "Nearly twenty-five tons of freshly mixed mortar was piled on the firebrick floor, which gave way, burying the men who were at work in the subcellar below.  Seven laborers were in the subcellar at the time." 

Workmen scrambled to extricate the buried men.  "A dozen laborers were set to work digging away the debris," said the article.  The first body they discovered was that of 42-year-old Albert Zimmer.  Miraculously, there was only one other fatality, that of 45-year-old Charles de Sola.  Two other workers, John Hurley and Otto Pabst, were injured "by the falling debris of mortar, fire-brick and iron," said the article.

On January 28, 1893, the Record & Guide reported on the completed building, saying that among the "lofty modern office and business buildings" in New York, this was, "the most imposing and attractive of them all."  The critic praised Post's "artistic power of repetition in design, of majesty and grace in the strong perpendicular lines, of beauty and symmetry in the arches, balustrades and projecting gallery."

Post clad the Renaissance Revival structure in limestone, terra cotta, brick and stone.  The Record & Guide pointed out that modern elevator technology made the 15th story as desirable and "in some respects, more desirable," than the lower ones.  The Havemeyer Building had seven Otis hydraulic elevators, including the first express elevators in the city.  The first stop of those two elevators was the seventh floor.

The narrow proportions of the site meant that every office had windows.  At a time when electricity was unreliable, the Record & Guide noted, "Gas, of course, there is, and electric lighting by an independent system, generated on the premises and in ample supply at all hours."  In addition to innovations like mail chutes, the building offered 24-hour special police protection and watchmen's service.  

While many new structures in the Financial District held the offices of brokers and attorneys, the Havemeyer Building attracted industrial tenants.  While the building was still under construction, space was leased to tenants like the Consolidated Wire Works Company, the National Tube Works Company, the Delamater Iron Works, the Westinghouse Air Brake Company, and building contractors L. & E. Weber.

There were "arcade stores" on the ground floor and 15 stores in the basement level.  The corner store on Cortlandt Street was leased to Leon, "the celebrated caterer, late of Delmonico's and of Hollywood, who will finish and furnish it in a manner calculated in all of its appointments to rival Delmonico's and all other of the famous restaurants of this city," said the Record & Guide.  The upper floors held between 18 and 22 office suites each.  During the warm months, the rooftop was "shaded with awnings and thrown open as a promenade."

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

The National Tube Works Company was founded by John H. Flagler.  The private lives of millionaires were fair game for the press, and on May 22, 1894, a reporter from The Evening World appeared at Flagler's office in the Havemeyer Building to get information on the industrialist's love affair.  The following day, the newspaper reported, "Millionaire John H. Flagler and Miss Alice Maudelick, the choir soprano, whose marriage engagement has been reported as broken, have both retired from public view."  

The journalist had also gone to Flagler's East 67th Street mansion, as well.  "At neither place was he to be seen."  The clerk in the office said Flagler was not expected until later in the day "if he came at all," adding that, "Mr. Flagler was in a towering rage over the publication of what he termed his private affairs and would talk to no one about them."

By 1893, the offices of the Street Railway Journal were located in the Havemeyer Building, and before 1896 the Continental Match Company, headed by Edwin Gould, was here.  A much different tenant took space in 1897, however.

In April that year, the Spanish-American War broke out.  The Department of the Navy set up an office in the Havemeyer Building in October, with Lieutenant-Commander J. D. J. Kelley, "formerly of the cruiser New York," according to the New York Journal and Advertiser, in charge.  Kelley's mission was to find merchant marine vessels that "may be quickly armed, manned and gotten ready for work."  And he was eminently successful.

The article said, "It was found that the owners were without exception patriotic, and gladly tendered the use of their vessels to the Government and also were willing to go to considerable expense that they might be properly fitted."  At the time of the article, Kelley had acquired 91 vessels that had been converted to warships.

W. Butler Duncan, Jr. worked in the Havemeyer Building.  On August 27, 1898, The Sun recalled, "When the New York naval militia was called into service by the Government last April one of the first of its officers to pass the examinations and take rank in the navy was Lieut. W. Butler Duncan, Jr."   Duncan had been assigned to the auxiliary cruiser Yankee as senior watch officer throughout the conflict.  Now, said the article, the Yankee had been ordered to New York, "and it is expected that the naval militia will be mustered out on arriving here."

In anticipation of his return, Duncan's co-workers went into action.  The Sun reported, 

The employees in his offices at the Havemeyer building have elaborately decorated the place.  American flags are tastefully draped on the walls and over the Lieutenant's desk, while on the south side of the rooms is a large shield bearing the words, "Victory, Yankee." "Welcome Home" appears immediately below in large gilt letters.  In one corner stands an easel entirely covered with flags.  On this are arranged five photographs of the Yankee, showing the cruiser from different points of view.  The decorations can be plainly seen from the elevated road, which runs on a level with the office windows.

The elevated railroad mentioned in the article (which predated the Havemeyer Building) was an annoyance to the structure's management.  Theodore A. Havemeyer had died in 1897 and ownership of the building passed to the Havemeyer Real Estate Company.  The firm's festering vexation came to a climax two decades after the building opened.

In what might have been viewed by some as astounding hubris on the part of the Havemeyer Real Estate Company, on April 1, 1912 it filed suit against the Interborough Rapid Transit Company, demanding it discontinue operating the elevated line and petitioned "for an order for the tearing down of the station and structure in front of the building."  The allegations were that the tracks "deprived tenants of light and air" and that the passing trains were an annoyance.  "Also it was alleged that the vibrations had impaired and weakened the building," reported the New-York Tribune.  Not unexpectedly, the suit was not successful and the elevated train survived until the late 1930s, longer than the Havemeyer building.

The Navy once again rented offices here as the country poised to enter World War I.  On March 22, 1917, The Evening World posted a list of "Where to Enlist in the U. S. Navy," which included 26 Cortlandt Street.  An accompanying article said, "An entire floor of the Havemeyer building at No. 26 Cordlandt Street has been rented for recruiting headquarters for the Naval Coast Defense Reserve.  There millionaire owners of fast yachts and husky men from harbor tugs line up side by side to enter Uncle Sam's service."  The article noted that the offices, "were crowded to-day, with sturdy men eager to enlist for services afloat."

On May 3, 1917, The Evening World reported that orders had been received at the Third Naval District of the United States Naval Reserve Force here for the "enrolling [of] at least 200 aviators at once."  The article said, "These men need not necessarily be experienced airmen, but they must have a knowledge of gasolene [sic] engines and general mechanics."

The Havemeyer Building survived through 1930.  It was demolished the following year to make way for the East River Savings Bank building, designed by Walker & Gillette, which survives.

image by Tdorante10

The Lost New York Hospital, West 15th Street near 5th Avenue

 

Illustrate New York City and Surroundings, 1889 (copyright expired)

The concept of the "usefulness and necessity of a public hospital" in New York City was introduced by Samuel Bard in 1769 in his address to the first two doctors to graduate from King's College.  Two years later, King George III granted a royal charger to establish The Society of the New York Hospital in the City of New York in America.  Delayed by the war, the hospital finally opened on January 3, 1791 on Broadway between Duane and Worth Streets.

The original New York Hospital Building on Broadway.  Annual Report of the New York Hospital 1922, (copyright expired)

In the years following the end of the Civil War, the New York Hospital had outgrown its building.  In 1875 lots were purchased in the fashionable neighborhood of Fifth Avenue and 15th Street.  As construction of the building began, the trustees expanded the project.  On April 4, 1876, the New York Herald reported, "During the year, the society has purchased four additional lots on Fifteenth street and Fifth avenue for the purpose of extending the frontage of the new hospital now being built."

Architect George B. Post, who would design the massive Cornelius Vanderbilt II mansion just two years later, turned to the French Gothic style for this project.  Seven stories tall,  it was faced in brick and trimmed with gray sandstone.  Its top floor detonated with fletches, pyramidal caps and dormers.  Deep, iron-railed balconies fronted the third through fifth floors on either side of the central pavilion.  Here, said The New York Times, "convalescent patients can go out and sit in the window seats and watch the stream of travel and traffic through the street."  The newspaper wrote, "Spires and finials break the severity of the outline against the sky and give the building a pleasing finish.  Rows of lofty windows with stained-glass transoms cross and recross the front."

Construction was completed early in 1877 and the building officially opened on March 16.  The New-York Tribune wrote, "Four thousand invitations had been issued for the opening ceremonies, and it seemed as if a majority of the invited persons were present.  In view of the disagreeable snow-storm the attendance of ladies was large."  The article said that following the addresses, the guests "had an opportunity to inspect its almost palatial halls."  Dr. William H. Van Buren gave the long speech, which recapped  the history of the hospital, its advances in medicine, and its famous practitioners.  Victorian oratory was routinely lengthy by 21st century perspectives, and it took its toll on one audience member.  The article said, "During the delivery of the address happened a sad case of somnolence; a gentleman of mature age dropped into rhythmic snoring, and caused a smile to ripple over the vast audience."

Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, March 31, 1877 (copyright expired)

The project totaled $900,000 (including the land, building, furniture and fixtures,), a staggering $24 million in 2022.  The hospital had been designed as a modern facility with scientific innovations.  Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper called the building "absolutely fireproof," saying, "The only wood employed in its construction is in the doors.  The flooring throughout is composed of tiles laid in cement on iron beams."  Astonishingly, the walls were composed of "iron and sand, with iron lathing."  

Airborne bacteria and odors were removed from wards through an ingenious system of air ducts.  In his 1893 Hospitals and Asylums of The World, Henry C. Burdett wrote, "In the New York Hospital the registers for the exit of fouled air are placed in the floor, one beneath each bed, and from these openings horizontal flues beneath the floor lead to the vertical four-air shafts built in the thick outer walls."   

The glass-ceilinged top floor was outfitted as a "solatrium," or "sun-bath."  In its April 1878 issue, Frank Leslie's Sunday Magazine said it was "flooded with sunlight" and patients could enjoy "a conservatory of rare plants and flowers, and fresh and salt water aquaria containing every variety of aquatic life, from the lower to the highest grades."

Patients and visitors sit among tropical plants in the solarium.  Their voluminous Victorian costumes raise questions about how beneficial the sunlight was.  Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, March 31, 1877 (copyright expired)

A month's outpatient treatment cost $1, unless the patient could not afford to pay.  Patients requiring in-house treatment were charged $1 per day for a ward bed and $15 to $50 a week for a private room ($1,330 for the most expensive by today's standards).  The regulations said, "All persons applying for free service must bring a note, or other evidence, from some well-known citizen that their inability to pay does not arise from improvidence or dissipation."

Despite its cutting-edge amenities, the hospital engaged in selected practices that would seem barbarous today.  On August 8, 1877, Mary Tait was brought in with two stab wounds in the abdomen.  The woman was far advanced in her pregnancy.  Two days later she delivered a still-born male child.  The house surgeon and the deputy coroner autopsied the infant and ruled "its death was the result of the mother's injuries," according to The New York Times.  Mary Tait was discharged from the hospital nearly two weeks later.

Hospital Management reprinted a vintage sketch of the Children's Ward in 1923.  (copyright expired)

The keeper of the Morgue received a burial permit for the infant, and sent a request for the body to the New York Hospital.  Losing patience, three days later he sent a wagon to retrieve the corpse.  On August 26, The New York Times reported, "When Dan Russel, the driver of the wagon, called at the New-York Hospital, he was told by the clerk that he guessed the body had been thrown into the furnace."  A reporter from the newspaper called upon Dr. Knight, the hospital surgeon who had helped in the autopsy.  "The Doctor declared that he could not tell what had become of the child, but it was not at all improbable that it had been cremated.  Supposing that it might have occurred, he could see nothing improper in it."

The New York Hospital continued to keep up with advancements.  On Christmas Eve 1889, it became the first hospital in the city to be illuminated with electric lights.  The New York Times wrote, "The New-York Hospital presented an extraordinary appearance last night for an institution with which bright and cheerful scenes are seldom associated...The whole building was lit up with incandescent electric lights."  The change from gas to electricity went beyond mere modernity.  The article explained:

Sanitary motives alone dictated the change, for it was thought that a better and more even temperature could be maintained and a less vitiated atmosphere be secured in the wards, where these are all important, than with the use of gas.  There would be no consumption of the oxygen with the electric lights, as there had always been with gaslights, and so the change was made.

The lighting was intensified in the operating rooms by "movable reflectors."  They enabled surgeons to operate at any hour of the night with the same brilliance as during the day.

Following disasters, the doctors and nurses of the New York Hospital flew into emergency mode.  Such was the case on May 27, 1902 when throngs lined Fifth Avenue to view a parade for the French delegation to celebrate Rochambeau Day.  More than 100 persons crowded onto a temporary wooden sidewalk bridge over a half-block-long excavation.  Their weight was too great, and it collapsed, plummeting them 20 feet onto jagged rocks and wooden beams.   The New-York Tribune reported that surgeons from the New York Hospital rushed to the scene to treat the injured on site.

Three years later, on January 7, 1905, a disaster occurred at the Metropolitan Opera House.  The New-York Tribune reported, "With a crash which brought most of the audience of the Metropolitan Opera House to their feet in alarm, a stage bridge, part of the scenery of the first act of "Carmen," collapsed suddenly last night, throwing fifteen members of the chorus to the stage."  Doctors at the New York Hospital were shortly treating members of the cast, dressed in their operatic costumes.

The New York Hospital building in 1922.  Annual Report of the New York Hospital (copyright expired)

On May 8, 1927, The New York Times encapsulated the contributions of the New York Hospital, saying:

It has been active in the care of sick and wounded in all the wars in which the country has been engaged.  It took part in checking the typhoid epidemics at some of the camps during the Spanish War, and in the World War it maintained at Chateauroux United States Base Hospital No. 9, caring for 15,000 cases...Peace-time epidemics, from the early days of yellow fever and cholera down to the more recent one of infantile paralysis and influenza, have also been kept in check and investigated.

At the time of the article, the days of the venerable structure were numbered.  On February 6, 1929, The New York Times reported, "The New York Hospital and Cornell Medical College are creating a new medical centre on land fronting on the East River between Sixty-eighth and Seventieth Streets."  The cornerstone of the new New York Hospital and Cornell Medical College (which would eventually become the Weill Cornell Medical Center), was laid on June 12, 1930.  

image via realtyhop.com

The old New York Hospital was replaced by a three-story apartment building, completed in 1935.  That was demolished for the 12-story Chelsea Lane Apartments, completed in 1964.

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

The 1891 Schermerhorn Building - 696-702 Broadway

William Colford Schermerhorn (a distant cousin of Caroline Schermerhorn Astor) was educated in private schools and graduated from Columbia College in 1840.  An attorney, he lived in the family mansion at the corner of  Lafayette Place and 4th Street until 1860.  Late, as his former elegant neighborhood changed, he replaced former mansions with modern commercial buildings.

In 1890 he partnered with his cousin, Frederick Augustus Schermerhorn, to erect a substantial store and loft building one block away from his old home, at the northeast corner of Broadway and West 4th Street.  Architect George B. Post designed the imposing structure, which was completed in 1891.

The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, April 29, 1893 (copyright expired)

The tripartite Romanesque Revival design consisted of a two-story base clad in rough-cut brownstone, a brick mid-section which took the form of four-story arches, and a top section consisting of paired, two-story arched openings.  Here the individual windows were separated by thin, engaged and clustered columns; and the pairs of windows by brick piers wearing brownstone capitals.

Despite Post's solid reputation, the Schermerhorn Building was met with a biting review from the Record & Guide.  The writer said the site of the building could have provided opportunity, "having an unusually ample frontage on Broadway, and ample depth on the side street."  And he praised the entrance as being "in general very good and it is the most effective feature of the building."

The architectural critic of the Record & Guide noted that the entrance "spandrils [sic] are richly carved."

The critic found fault with the decoration of the mid-section, but admitted "This does not prevent this central part of the building from being impressive.  The main difficulty of the composition arises with the attic [i.e., top section]...The effect is undoubtedly awkward and ineffective."  The rather scathing critique went on in detail for half a page.

On March 17, 1891, just as the Schermerhorn Building was nearing completion, a massive fire destroyed the eight-story building at Nos. 104-106 Bleecker Street.  It took more than a day to extinguish the blaze.  Among that building's tenants was men's apparel manufacturer Hammerslough, Saks & Co., who suffered a loss of $300,832.35--an astonishing $8.7 million today.

An advertisement demonstrated that the firm could fit a customer of any size or shape.  (original source unknown)

Despite the massive financial blow, Hammerslough, Saks & Co. was able to relocate into the new Shermerhorn Building.  The firm consisted of Samuel Hammerslough and Andrew and Isadore Saks.  It was described as "one of the largest wholesale clothing businesses in New York."

At a time when many garment factories pushed back against organized labor, Hammerslough, Saks & Co. avoided strikes by working with the unions.  At a meeting of the Garment-Workers' Trade Council on November 25, 1893, complaints were received about certain factories "who were said to discriminate against union men and to give their work to sweating-shop contractors."  The minutes noted "Hammerslough, Saks & Co., it was stated, are employing union men only."

In 1894 Andrew and Isadore Saks retired, turning the management of the firm entirely over to Samuel Hammerslough.  The name was changed to Samuel Hammerslough & Co.

By now the name of the Schermerhorn Building was rarely used, most likely because of rampant confusion.  In 1888, three years before this building was completed, William C. Schermerhorn had erected a six-story structure at the corner of Lafayette and Great Jones Street which he also named the Schermerhorn Building.  And to make things more tangled, a third Schermerhorn Building, owned by John Jacob Astor, was located downtown at No. 96 Broadway.

Around 6:00 on the evening of October 25, 1895 three electricians who had been working in the building prepared to go home.  The entered the freight elevator and attempted to run it themselves.  The New York Times reported "Being inexperienced with the management of elevators, they stopped it so suddenly that the cable broke.  The elevator fell with sufficient force to smash the platform and throw the men in a heap on the floor."

The car plummeted to the sub-basement level.  An ambulance was called and the responding doctor "found all three suffering from shock and sprains of the lower limbs."  They all refused to go to the hospital and after resting awhile went home.

On November 12, 1900 a headline in The World announced "Samuel Hamerslough & Co., One of the Best-Known Manufacturers of Clothing, Retires from Business."  The building continued to house clothing-related businesses, many of them now in the millinery trade.

Among them were David Spero, a dealer artificial flowers for hats; Jacob Auslander & Sons, "caps and hats;" and Ury & Mendelson Bros., makers of "ready-to-wear, ready-to-trim and fancy hats."

Millinery Trade Review, January 1904 (copyright expired) 

Eva Wolf was 14-years old and an employee of Jacob Auslander & Bros.  The factory was on the sixth floor but on February 9, 1907 she was sent on an errand to the office of Jacob Auslander on the first floor.  Eva had never been to that floor and was unfamiliar with the layout.  As she went to leave, she passed through an open doorway which, unfortunately, turned out to be an elevator shaft.

Eva suffered severe injuries which kept her bedridden for six months and resulted in permanent injury to her legs and hips.  In 1911 her parents not only filed suit against Jacob Auslander, but against the estate of William C. Schermerhorn, which still owned the building.  The complaint alleged they "carelessly and negligently failed to protect or close an unprotected opening or shaft."  Eva was awarded $2,750 in damages--about $76,300 today.

In the building by 1907 was George C. Batcheller & Co., makers of women's foundations like its "Glove-Fitting" corsets, brassieres, and children's "waists" or undershirts.

This George C. Batcheller & Co. ad depicted a variety of items.  New-York Tribune, March 24, 1907 (copyright expired)

Also in the building at the time were millinery firms Warshauser & Rosemond and the Caton Hat Co., and artificial flowers and feathers dealer Berlinger, Brown & Meyer.  

Berlinger, Brown & Meyer had started business in April 1902.  On September 25, 1909 the New-York Tribune remarked "in this remarkably short period of time [it] has built up a business which involves over half a million dollars capital."  The article said that "as a result of Mr. [Philip L.] Berlinger's many trips abroad to France and Germany every year search of new styles and ideas, the trade throughout the country looks upon this house as the highest authority for the proper millinery styles in flowers and feathers to wear as the season approaches."

Millinery firms continued to fill many of the spaces.  Sharing the building with Berlinger, Brown & Meyer in 1913 were Oscar Glanckopf, Inc., George Rawak, and Warshauer & Rosemond, all of which manufactured "silk and velvet hats."  The Glanckopf operation was a substantial one, employing 128 women and 7 men that year.

Garment manufacturers and dry goods firms were still represented, however.  In 1917 L. Finkelstein & Sons, purveyors of "serges and poplins" was here and would remain several years.  And in 1921 J. Tartikoff & Sons and the related firm Tartikoff & Moss moved in--the former taking the top two floors and Tartikoff & Moss leasing the fourth.

A noticeable exception to the garment and hat makers was A. A. Marks, which leased space by 1918.   The firm manufactured artificial limbs.  In November that year it was looking for a "boy for office work" and promised future growth: "later to learn trade."

On March 1, 1946 The New York Times reported that Henry Modell, president of Henry Modell & Co., had purchased the building "for a sporting goods store and warehouse for government surplus goods acquired by the company."  Modell announced his store would open within a few weeks and the firm would occupy the entire building by February 1947.

The last quarter of the century began as a dark time for this section of Broadway and the upper floors of No. 700 Broadway sat vacant for years during the 1980's.  In 1983 Pottery Barn took a gamble by opening a store in the ground floor as a renaissance of the neighborhood was taking shape.  The store had unusually late hours, staying open until 9:00 during the week and 11:00 on Saturdays.  The chain's vice president of merchandising explained "We always try to tailor the hours to the neighborhood, and this is a very late neighborhood."

The store was still in the space on November 1989 when the National Audubon Society announced its intentions to create its national headquarters in the building.  On December 3, 1992 Cara Greenberg published an article in The New York Times entitled "A Tree Grows in Architecture: 'Green' Design'." She remarked on the work of Croxton Callaborative, the architectural firm in charge of the renovations.  The firm's director of interior design said that No. 700 Broadway "is now one of the lowest energy-consuming office buildings in the country," and pointed out several of the features, "like maximized use of daylight and low-toxicity paints."

The National Audubon Society moved out in April 2008.  The building received a restoration headed by architect Philip Toscano following its purchase that year by the legal firm Weitz & Luxenberg.  

On its website Seaboard Weatherproofing & Restoration notes "a simple facade cleaning and repair project turned into an extensive deconstruction and restoration."  Severe structural and surface damage was discovered, caused by years of freezing and thawing as well as the constant vibration from the Broadway subway.  

An Seaboard artisan works on the reparation of a terra cotta element.  photo via seaboardwpr.com

Included in the extensive restoration was the complete dismantling and rebuilding of 40-feet section of a load-bearing wall on the eighth floor.  The final result is that George B. Posts's building looks much as it did in 1891 when it sorely offended one architectural critic.

photographs by the author

The 1906 Arts Club Studio Building - 119 East 19th Street

The National Arts Club was formed in March 1898 and incorporated the following year.  At a time when most collectors and dealers still looked to Europe for artworks, the club sought to "stimulate and guide" the "artistic sense of the American people."   It would provide exhibition space not only for the fine arts, but for applied and industrial arts, so crucial for the livelihood of emerging artists.

The National Arts Club was composed not merely of artists, but of architects and supporting businessmen.  Its first president was esteemed architect George B. Post.  The group acquired and renovated space at No. 37 West 34th Street as its clubhouse.

In 1905 the need for more space prompted the members to relocate.  The Record & Guide noted the club "has outgrown its present accommodations, both in membership and business.  It has a membership of about 1,300 and the facilities of its galleries, reading rooms, and restaurant are taxed to the limit."

On March 24 the New-York Tribune reported that the National Arts Club had bought "the Samuel J. Tilden house, Nos. 14 and 15 Gramercy Park, one of the most famous dwelling house landmarks in this city."  A week later the newspaper added "A new and ingenious combination is proposed by the club.  While there have been clubs before, studio buildings and rooms for organization work, never before, it is asserted, has there been a proposition to combine them in a way that will be mutually beneficial."

Included in the club's purchase was Tilden's expansive gardens in the rear which opened onto East 19th Street.  "It is the purpose of the organizers...to erect a studio building, with all modern conveniences, and at the same time have in it direct connection with the gallery and an art club in the membership of which are to be found many of the city's best known connoisseurs," said the article.

The Arts Club Studio building would include clubrooms for "affiliated societies," exhibition space, and artist studios.  "The studio building in 19th-st. will be so placed as to have the north studio windows toward Gramercy Park.  Thus the artist will be assured that his light is forever protected."

Not surprisingly, George B. Post & Son was given the commission to design the Arts Club Studio.  On October 29, 1905 the New-York Tribune updated its readers on the progress.  The estimated cost of the project, including construction and property costs, was $500,000--or about $15 million today.

"The studio building...will be a fireproof structure, seven stories [sic] high, with a mezzanine floor.  It will have a gothic entrance adorned with an arch and columns, and the facade will be of sculptured Belleville gray rock at the first story and ornamental brick with terra cotta trimmings above."  Because the northern-facing studios sat higher the former Tilden mansion, their residents could be assured their natural light was protected.

As construction neared completion on July 22, 1906 the New-York Tribune explained "The 19th street structure, which will be known as the Arts Club Studios...contains twelve large studio apartments, comprising studio, sitting room and library, with mezzanine bedrooms and bath, six smaller studio apartments, with studio, alcove and bath, ten bachelor apartments and fifteen single rooms, most of which are rented under long leases."  The newspaper predicted it would be "a landmark in the neighborhood of Gramercy Park."

New-York Tribune, July 22, 1906 (copyright expired)

The Arts Studio Building and the renovated Tilden mansion were formally opened on November 8, 1906.  By then, according to the New-York Tribune, the financial outlay for the combined project had reached "nearly $750,000."

The upper floors of George B. Post & Son's 15-story building were relatively unadorned.  Faced in brown-brick, the decoration relied mostly on a stone band course above the 13th floor and an elaborate cornice.   The architects focused their decorative attention on the neo-Gothic stone base.  Here the entrance sat within a pointed Gothic arch.  Flanking paneled piers were adorned with Gothic tracery and protruding gargoyles.  Directly above the entrance an arcade of pointed arches was topped by a deeply carved frieze of somewhat humorous faces peering from among swirling leaves.

The Arts Club Studio Building immediately staged exhibitions as the studios filled with artists and the clubrooms with arts-related groups.  Among the first group to take space was the National Society of Craftsmen, which had its own exhibition space and galleries.  The 1913 American Art Directory listed it along with the National Arts Club and Municipal Art Society at the 19th Street address.

They were joined by the American Institute of Graphic Arts before World War I.  The conflict diverted the focus of all the groups in the Arts Club Studio building as they turned to supporting the war effort.  In the spring of 1918, for instance, the American Institute of Graphic Arts spearheaded the "war savings stamps poster competition" the object of which was "to obtain striking posters and cards for use in promoting the sale of thrift stamps," according to the New-York Tribune on April 14.

As submissions poured in, the posters were exhibited in the Arts Club Studio.  At the time of the Tribune's article more than 1,000 had been received, some of them from America's top artists, including Maxfield Parrish, Charles Dana Gibson, photographer Clarence H. White, and Hilda Belcher.

The post-World War I years saw artists like Susan Ricker Knox, Ethel Wright, Jean Hafer and Arthur S. Allen living here.  Allen was president of the American Institute of Graphic Arts and was here as late as 1921.  In the building at the same time was Joseph Howland Hunt, son of famous architect Richard Morris Hunt and partner with his brother, Richard, in the architectural firm of Hunt & Hunt.  He was, as well, the president of the Municipal Art Society.

Susan Ricker Knox's The Conspirators was most likely done in her studio here.

Among the ongoing stream of exhibitions in the Arts Club Studio building was the 1922 show of The Fireside Industries of Berea College.  The New York Herald announced that it included "bedspreads and a variety of weavings, as well as a large collection of baskets made by the mountaineers."  And in 1928 the National Arts Club mounted its "Humorists' Exhibition."  The Evening Telegram explained on February 18 that its object was "to show what the artists of New York are doing in the way of making fun for the public or in the way of having fun themselves."

During the 1920's and '30's other groups took space in the building, including the League of American Artists, the City Gardens Club, and the National Council for the Protection of Roadside Beauty.

The last quarter of the century saw problems emerging.  The Gramercy Park building suffered serious neglect.  A 1999 study recommended a $2 million stabilization for the facade.  And the problem extended into the Arts Club Studio Building.  In 2004 frustrated members of the Arts Club reached out to city agencies, newspapers and preservation groups for help.  In a letter to city governmental agencies the members complained that the then-president of the club, O. Aldon James and his brother John were using many of the apartments as storage.  With no maintenance, ceilings collapsed from water damage and studios were piled high in trash.

Aldon stepped down in June 2011 and renovations began on the apartments.  A spokesman said that they would no longer be necessarily restricted to artists, "but the people who will really want to rent them will be those with a true appreciation for the history of New York.”

The initials of the National Arts Club appear above the delightful carvings.

Today George B. Post & Sons' eye-catching neo-Gothic facade is little changed.  The tongue-in-cheek faces which poke out of the leafy frieze are too often overlooked by rushing passersby.

photographs by the author

The Lost Henri M. Braem House - 15 East 36th Street

A stylish brougham with its top-hatted driver awaits at the curb in 1892.  The Architectural Record October 1892 (copyright expired)

In 1892 The Architectural Record commented "To Geo. B. Post belongs the honor of having erected the first strictly architectural terra cotta building in the City of New York.  This is located on the north side of West Thirty-sixth street, near Madison avenue."  The description was a bit misleading; since overall the house was clad in red brick.  Nonetheless, Post had liberally used the innovative material for it's lavish decorations nearly fifteen years before the article was written.

On October 1, 1877 Henri Monad Braem and his wife, the former Emily M. F. Bridge, purchased the property at No. 15 East 36th Street from millionaire David King, Jr.  Midway between the city's two most fashionable thoroughfares, Fifth and Madison Avenues, the site would give rise to an architecturally striking structure.

The Braems contracted George B. Post to design their new home.  He had recently designed the 10-story Western Union Telegraph Building downtown, often cited as the first skyscraper in Manhattan.  For the Braems he turned to the newly-appearing Queen Anne style.  It and the generous use of terra cotta decoration would result in an architecturally trailblazing design.

On February 2, 1878 The American Architect & Building News reported "Mr. George B. Post has...a notable private residence in hand, to be built at 15 East Thirty-sixth Street, for Mr. H. M. Braem, the Danish consul.  It occupies an ordinary lot, but from the front a porch of North River blue-stone will project some feet and give opportunity for some careful carving.  Moulded brick of the Peerless Brick Co. is liberally used, while large panels of terra-cotta ornament will be inserted beneath the window openings."

As the house rose, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide deemed it "remarkable" on September 28, 1878.  The Architectural Record focused on the panels, saying "The terra cotta for this building was made in Chicago by the man who in 1870 had been advised not to attempt to induce New York architects to use the material."  (Post had the panels manufactured in Chicago simply because there were no New York factories manufacturing the material yet.)

Title to the completed 25-foot wide residence was placed in Emily's name.  It had cost $30,000 to build, just under $780,000 today.  Four stories tall above the basement level, it was a delight of angles and shapes, colors and materials.  The entrance was deeply inset within the sheltering porch.  The second and third floors featured an angled bay to one side.  It was here that the use of terra cotta was most noticeable.  The fourth floor took the shape of an elaborate mansard with a French-style oeil-de-boeuf window and a fantastic faceted tower from which tall dormers burst forth.

The design's finishing touch was the finial at the tip of the conical tower. Originally the vacant side yard led to the Braem carriage house at the rear.  photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Henri and Emily had been married on January 15, 1862.  Not only was Henri a member of his stepfather's firm, Edward Bech & Co., but was the Danish Consul.  (Coincidentally or not, Edward Bech's father had also held that position.)   Highly respected, he was a member of the exclusive Union and Knickerbocker Clubs, and a vestryman in Trinity Church.  

The Braems, who had two daughters, Pauline and Josephine, summered at their Lenox estate, Ethelwyn.  It was considered one of the most beautiful mansions in the resort community and it was there, more than in the townhouse, that the Braems most lavishly entertained.  Near the estate Henri also owned a large farm.  The Press said on August 31, 1890 "his famous herd of Jersey cattle is not surpassed by any in this country."

Ethelwyn cost Braem more than $2.8 million in today's dollars to built.  The Press, August 31, 1890 (copyright expired)

New York and Lenox society were unaware that Henri Braem harbored a dark secret.  He had become romantically obsessed with a woman within the top tier of society.  It would result in the demolition of his reputation.

In 1881 the massively wealthy August Belmont, a fellow Union Club member, received an anonymous letter written in a woman's handwriting which greatly unnerved him.  A few weeks later another arrived, and then another.   The New-York Tribune later said that the harassing letters "disturbed and distressed [the Belmont family] greatly."

After "having exhausted his own resources as a detective," explained the New-York Tribune on December 17, 1884, Belmont hired a professional investigator.  He had the letters analyzed by a handwriting expert, who confirmed they had been written by a woman, most likely a "copyist."  (Copyists were paid to make untidy correspondence more professional and free of misspellings and grammar errors.  Or, in this case, to disguise the identity of the author.)

It took the detective three years to track down the woman, who "freely professed herself the amanuensis in the case, but professed entire ignorance as to who her employer was."   She asserted that her anonymous employer arrived with letters, left with both the copies and originals, and paid cash.  The detective, therefore, staked out her house and waited for the culprit.  And it was Henri M. Braem who showed up.

Upon receiving the news the indignant and irate August Belmont stormed off to Braem's office in December 1884.  Trapped, Braem admitted that it was he who had composed the years of scurrilous letters.  Belmont chose not to air the scandalous details of the case, which apparently included extramarital dalliances with the unnamed woman by both men.  The New-York Tribune noted on December 17, "Those who are known to be friendly with Mr. Belmont assert that he has expressed a disinclination to push the matter any further."

Indeed, there was no need to.  Belmont's revenge cut even deeper than any punishment that could be accomplished in court.  As he stood before Braem's desk that day he demanded a written confession, and that Braem resign from his clubs, and from his position as a Trinity vestryman.  In a single stroke he had ruined Braem's reputation and social standing.

Newspapers city-wide reported on the scandal.  The refusal of neither Belmont nor Braem to disclose further details resulted in a single unanswered detail.  The World wrote "And so Henri M. Braem was driven out of New York, and all the town learned why--though it did not learn about the woman."

The World depicted the moment the copyist pointed out Henri Braem to the detective from her window.  February 18, 1900 (copyright expired)

The humiliated Braems put on a brave face and attempted valiantly to participate in New York and Lenox society.  The World would comment decades later, "The disgraced broker flattered himself that by putting on a bold front he and the family would find life endurable on his beautiful Lenox property."

On September 19, 1888, for instance, The World reported on "Gay Times at Lenox," and noted "Saturday Henry M. Braem, the Danish consul, gives an oyster supper."

Just one week later, on September 25, the city house was nearly lost.  At 10:00 that night a massive explosion occurred which was heard two blocks away.  The Evening World reported "when Policeman Gerrity went to the spot he found the house in darkness, all the window glass broken and gas pouring from every outlet.

"The heavy doors were blown off their hinges, the staircase was partly torn away, the chandelier lay in ruins on the floor and all the china and bric-a-brac was broken."

When the reporter arrived the following morning, workers were covering the furniture and undamaged paintings.  "All the pretty glass widows had disappeared and a carpenter was measuring the staircase for a new balustrade...Upon opening the door of the extension a pile of wreckage came into view."

Wealthy families rarely left their town homes unguarded during the summer months, and Edouard Ducas, "the steward," had been inside the residence.  The World said he "is recovering from his injuries, and will be all right again in a few days.  He has several ugly cuts about the face and hands."

The wooden make-shift ramp over the curb must have created a challenge for both the horses and carriage.  The Architectural Record October 1892 (copyright expired)

The repairs were made in time for the children's party "and Christmas tree" Emily held On December 31.

Although the Braems continued to be invited to important social affairs--they were present at Emily Vanderbilt Sloane's debut in 1893, for instance--they spent less and less time in America.  On April 21, 1895 The World reported that Emily and the girls had left for Europe "to renew their energies."  They would remain there, said the article, until late in the autumn."

Six months later, on October 7, The Evening Telegram announced "The marriage of Miss Josephine Braem, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Henri M. Braem, who have one of the prettiest homes at Lenox, to Lieutenant Leo Paur von Budahegy, of the American Artillery, will be celebrated in Vienna on the 21st."

The following year, on October 4, 1896 The World reported "Mr. and Mrs. Henri M. Braem and family, of No. 15 East Thirty-sixth street, are among the New Yorkers who will be socially missed this season.  Their town house and Lenox house are leased for several years.  Mr. and Mrs. Braem went abroad in the early summer with the intention of remaining indefinitely."  The article noted "Mr. and Mrs. Braem prefer to live on the other side."

In 1897 the Braems knew they would not be returning to Lenox.  The New York Press reported in March "The beautiful country place of Henri M. Braem, Ethelwynde, has been purchased by Mrs. Robert Winthrop of New York for $70,000."  The sale price was around $2.2 million in today's money.

A cable arrived at the offices of the New-York Daily Tribune on April 25, 1899 from Vienna.  It notified New York society that Pauline had been married a week earlier to Georg von Nauendorff.  The subsequent article mentioned "Mr. and Mrs. Braem, with their daughter, have been living in Austria for the last three years."

It appears that the Braems were little heard of until the arrival of another telegram, this one to The New York Times on February 12, 1900.  The newspaper reported "A cable message was received in this city Monday announcing the death in Vienna of Henri M. Braem, for many years Danish Consul General in New York.  Mr. Braem had been in delicate health for several weeks, but his death, which resulted from pneumonia, was comparatively sudden."

Writing in The World, theatrical producer David Belasco was less kind and more dramatic.  "The cable tells us briefly that he died suddenly in Vienna the other day of pneumonia. But...this death is dramatically superfluous, since he died when August Belmont made him sign those letters sixteen years ago."

The following year, on May 1, Emily Braem sold the 36th Street house to inventor and manufacturer of printing machines, Robert Hoe.  The millionaire had helped found the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Grolier Club, a society organized for lovers of books.  

At the time of the purchase the neighborhood was changing.  In 1905 Tiffany & Company erected its magnificent white marble store steps away at the corner of Fifth Avenue and the following year, one block to the south, the massive B. Altman Department Store was completed.  Hoe may have purchased the Braem house merely to protect the block; his 50-foot wide mansion sat two houses away at No. 11.

Robert Hoe died in London on September 22, 1909.  It took four days to auction off his private library of nearly 21,000 titles.   

In 1912 the headquarters of the china firm Haviland & Co. rose on the site of Robert Hoe's mansion.  Two houses away the Braem house is still intact.  photo from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Altered, the Braem house survived until 1940 when it and the properties on either side were demolished for an eight-story apartment house.

photo via streeteasy.com