The John Addoms House - 158 Henry Street

 

Beneath the red casing around the entrance, the fluted stone columns hopefully survive.

Around 1843, John Addoms moved his family into the newly built house at 158 Henry Street.  While the 26-foot-wide, three-story residence was similar to the numerous Greek Revival homes being erected throughout the city, certain details of 158 Henry Street announced that its owner was wealthy.  The double-doored entrance was flanked with engaged, fluted columns that upheld a three-part entablature and cornice.

Addoms and his wife, the former Mary Agnes Clark, were relative newlyweds, having married in 1837.  Living with them were Catherine "Katy" Embury Bininger.  The relationship between the couple and Catherine is unclear, but it was doubtful she was a mere boarder.  She was the widow of the well-known grocer and property owner Abraham Bininger, whom she married around 1761.  She had been instrumental in establishing what The New York Times later called, "the great house" of A. M. Bininger & Co.  (The newspaper recalled that early in the business, Katy Bininger hired a teenaged boy to peddle her "cookies, cakes and tea rusks" from a basket.  "The name of the peddler was John Jacob Astor, who was then of eighteen or twenty years of age, and had not long arrived in this country.")

The fascinating Catherine Embury Bininger died at the age of 92 on July 11, 1848.  Her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

John Addoms died in August 1850.  Mary Agnes, who was 31 years old at time of John's death, soon left 158 Henry Street.  At an auction on April 10, 1851, the household goods and furniture were sold.  Everything from the impressive items--like the parlor and dining room suites, "large pier glasses," and candelabras--to the mundane, like crockery, glassware, and oil cloths, was sold.

Reverend Daniel C. Van Norman (sometimes written as Vannorman) next occupied the house.  The erudite educator was the principal of the Rutger's Female Institute on Fifth Avenue.  At a time when education for most females ended with the fundamentals of writing, basic math, and such, the institute offered courses that were equivalent to those available to young men.  The Phelps' Strangers and Citizens' Guide to New York City said,

It has a fine library, selected with great care and excellent philosophical apparatus for illustrating the subjects of astronomy, chemistry, and other branches of science.  Its course of instruction embraces history, general philosophy, mathematics, and belles letters, by which young ladies are thoroughly prepared for the pursuit of general knowledge, for the duties of teachers, and for that moral and intellectual power so necessary to be possessed by the mothers of our republic.

Reverend Van Norman remained here through 1854, when the Henry Street house was purchased by Peter Crosby Barnum and his second wife, the former Sarah Ann Baldwin.  The couple had married in 1846 and had two children, Joshua Willets, born in 1847, and Kate Vail, born in 1850.

Peter Crosby Barnum (original source unknown)

Barnum was born in 1815, the eldest son of Dr. Stephen C. Barnum.  In 1851, Peter joined his brother's clothing firm, Horton & Barnum, established two years earlier.  Barnum's massive fortune was reflected in the family's country house in East Meadow, New York, which "covered 2700 hundred acres," described by the Brewster Standard, and held "a sumptuous home."  (The newspaper, undoubtedly, meant 2,700 acres.)

Like Van Norton's, the Barnums' residency would be relatively short.  By 1867, they sold 158 Henry Street to Edmund J. Kelly and his wife, Mary E.  The exclusive residential neighborhood that the Addoms family had enjoyed was quickly changing, as waves of immigrants flooded into the Lower East Side.  Edmund J. Kelly was the proprietor of two saloons, one on 25 New Bowery and the other at 399 Pearl Street.  He and Mary had at least one child, Mary C.

Mary E. Kelly was apparently a self-sufficient woman.  After Edmund's death in 1869, she took over the Pearl Street saloon.  (It appears she sold the other business.)  She augmented her finances by leasing part of her home.  On April 14, 1874, an advertisement in the New York Herald offered, 

The Upper or Lower part of that beautiful brown stone House in that nice block, No. 158 Henry street between Rutgers and Jefferson streets, with all improvements, to a nice family; I will make the rent to suit.

The advertisement was answered by German-born William Hochhausen, who was in the "electric instruments" business on William Street.  The family was with the two Marys at least through 1877.

While her mother ran a saloon, Mary C. Kelly went into a more respectable female profession, a teacher.  By 1881, she was teaching music in several public schools.  Specialized instructors like music and art teachers were not affiliated with a specific school, but moved from one to another.  Because of that, Mary did not have a set salary, but was paid at $1.50 per hour in 1881.

Mary E. Kelly sold 158 Henry Street in April 1885 for $13,250 (about $433,000 in 2025).  It changed hands several times before Simon Scharlin purchased the house around 1893.  Born in Jerusalem in 1849, at some point Scharlin had anglicized his name Sabsai to Simon.  He and his wife, the former Sarah Liebe Silverson, had three sons, Nimon, Jacob and Sidney, and a daughter Rebecca.

Simon Scharlin established his snuff and tobacco business on Division Street in 1876.  He was president of the Jewish Synagogue on Pike Street and, according to The Journal on June 1, 1896, he was "said to be worth a million dollars."

Jacob Scharlin, who was deaf, was educated in a specialized school for the hearing impaired.  The Journal said, "Notwithstanding his affliction, Jacob has been regarded on the East Side as a very good catch, and many a schatchen kept the favor of the young man as a valuable asset to be realized on when Jacob should desire a wife."  (A schatchen is a marriage broker or matchmaker.)

In February 1896, Jacob met Annie Berlinger, who had been a school mate years earlier.  An orphan, she lived with her aunt and uncle.  The Journal described her as, "very beautiful, and her friends call her 'the Rose,' because of her complexion."  The newspaper said, "After the revival of their acquaintance Jacob sent a deaf mute friend named Hanneman, of No. 61 Delancey street, to her as a schatchen and a marriage was arranged."

On February 8, 1896, "the engagement was celebrated, and the big parlors at Papa Scharlin's were filled with guests to wish the young couple happiness and participate in the engagement feast."  The article mentioned, "The splendor of the surroundings was a new sensation for the prospective bride."  As part of the ceremony, Simon, "took a diamond ring from his finger, gave it to Jacob, who placed it upon the finger of his intended and the engagement was acknowledged."  The wedding was set for two weeks later, but was postponed for Passover.

Annie was given a room in the Scharlin house.  Her uncle, Isaac Blumenthal, told a reporter, "They bought her clothes--fine silk!"  But then, according to Blumenthal, everything fell apart.  On June 1, 1896, The Journal quoted him:

One day Annie was helping in the housework with her ring on--the ring he gave her that cost $125, and [Jacob] said: "Why do you work in that ring?  You will lose the stone."  She is a child.  She gave it to him, and then he told his mother that he had the ring back, and to put her out.

What was apparently a misunderstanding ended the engagement.  Annie was sent back to his uncle's home.  Blumenthal said, "Annie got a letter from him, saying that he wanted nothing more to do with her and she fainted."  Through her guardian, "Miss Berlinger sued Jacob for $50,000 for breach of promise," reported The Journal.  (The damages to Annie Berlinger's broken heart would translate to about $1.87 million today.)

At just 16 years old in 1897, Sidney was already a partner in his father's firm, now named Simon Scharlin & Son.  The family's legal problems had increased that year when on March 5 the New York Herald headlined an article, "Twenty-Seven Were Poisoned."  The article begun, 

The alleged adulteration of hundreds of pounds of snuff, which it is said caused at least twenty-seven cases of chronic lead poisoning, was the real cause of the indictment and arrest yesterday of Simon and Simon [sic] H. Scharlin, of the firm of S. Scharlin & Son...on a technical charge of petty larceny.

The Scharlins pleaded non-guilty and their attorney, Abraham Levy, insisted "that his clients were not persons who would steal two cents, or $2,000,000 either."  

Decades later, when Berenice Abbott took this photograph on January 26, 1938, the S. Scharlin & Son shop still occupied at1 113 Division Street.  image from the collection of the New York Public Library

The Scharlins were cleared of the charges.  In the meantime, however, Anna Berlinger was awarded $1,950 in her breach of promise suit (just under $74,000 today).  Despite Simon Scharlin's vast fortune, it appears that Anna would never see any of that award.  On June 20, 1899, The New York Times reported that Jacob Scharlin had "filed a petition in bankruptcy to get rid of a judgment...for breach of promise of marriage."  The article mentioned, "He has no assets."

The family's trouble turned to celebration on June 1, 1898 when Rebecca was married to Dr. Moses Duckman in Vienna Hall on East 58th Street.  Her brother, Nimon, was the groom's best man.  

Nimon was taken to the Mount Sinai Hospital on February 3, 1900, "suffering from kidney trouble," according to the New-York Tribune.  The 27-year-old died within hours and he was buried in Bay Side Cemetery on Long Island the following day.  

Four nights later, Sarah had a vivid dream that Nimon was alive.  The dream was so powerful, that she could not rest.  The New-York Tribune reported on February 10 that Nimon's body had been disinterred.  "She told [officials] yesterday about the dream, that constant thinking about it had made her nervous and that she would not be contented until she gazed upon the body again."  When she saw that the body had not moved since the burial, she reconciled to his death.

Simon and Sarah Scharlin sold 158 Henry Street in June 1915.  It became home to Congregation Shearith Israel in 1920.  Four years later, the congregation Agudat Achim Anshei Drohitchin, which organized in 1899, moved from 101 Monroe Street to the former Scharlin house.  Renovations completed in 1925 resulted in a dining room and kitchen in the basement, the shul's meeting room on the former parlor level, and the rabbi's residence on the second and third floors.  

In 1941, little had outwardly changed from a private residence to a synagogue.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

After the shul operated here for decades, 158 Henry Street was sold in August 2009.  Now home to the World Buddhist Center, the lintels and sill brackets of the windows have been removed and a stucco-like material applied to the facade.  A bright red casing around the entrance somewhat echoes a shrine gateway.  Jeff Wilson's The Buddhist Guide to New York notes, "Despite its grandiose name, this is a fairly typical Chinatown temple...Members sit on pews before the Amitabha Buddha statue for chanting and prayers."

photographs by the photograph

The Remodeled Herbert Lawrence House - 267 Henry Street

 

In the early 1830s, prim Federal-style houses rose along the new streets laid out on the former Rutgers Farm.  One of these, at 267 Henry Street (named for Henry Rutgers), was completed in 1834.  Like most of its neighbors, it was two-and-a-half stories tall with red brick cladding and two attic dormers.  In November 1834, an advertisement in the New York Morning Courier offered for sale, "the two story House and Lot No. 267 Henry st...house 24 by 42 ft., finished in modern style, with under cellars, finished attic, &c."

Nathan Cobb, a shipmaster, occupied the house in 1836.  Cobb owned the coastal steamer Savannah and had become a member of the Marine Society of the City of New York on May 12, 1828.  Following his retirement, Cobb relocated to Tarrytown, where he erected a stately mansion that survives.

Nathan Cobb assuredly was well-acquainted with Herbert Lawrence, one of the preeminent ship builders of the East Coast.  Their relationship likely resulted in Lawrence's purchase of 267 Henry Street in 1846.  

Herbert Lawrence was born in Pallisades, in Rockland County, in 1778.  He arrived in New York City in 1809 and became "a practical ship-builder, entering a yard near the Battery," according to The New York Times decades later.  He co-founded Lawrence & Sneden in 1816 as the senior partner.  The following year the firm was given an important commission for the steamboat Bolona by Cornelius Vanderbilt I.  The New York Times reported, 

She was a model of beauty and marveled at of account of her size.  She was built to compete with a line of boats owned by a company which was monopolizing traffic on the Hudson River.  The wonderful craft was 80 feet long, 20 feet beam, and 6 feet hold, and was propelled by paddle wheels.

In appreciation of the lucrative commission, Lawrence presented Vanderbilt with a scale model of the Bolona, which was prominently displayed in the Vanderbilt parlor at 10 Washington Place.

Herbert and his wife, the former Sarah Freelove Mann, had two sons, William and Herbert, Jr.  (Somewhat morbidly, the boys' namesakes were their parent's first sons--also William and Herbert--who died in infancy.)

By 1852, Herbert, Jr., still in his 20s, was a co-proprietor of his father's firm.  That year William Foulks established a partnership with Herbert Lawrence, and the firm was renamed Lawrence & Foulks.  With the seaport bustling and crowded, in 1854 the firm moved its shipyard to Williamsburg, Brooklyn.  During this period, Lawrence & Foulks built oceangoing steamships outfitted with lavish accommodations for passengers.

Lawrence & Foulks built the luxurious Commonwealth in 1854.  from the collection of the Athenaeum.

The firm turned from luxury travel and shipping to warfare with the outbreak of the Civil War.  Several crafts in the process of construction were remodeled for gunboats.  The sidewheel steamer Thomas Freeborn was engaged in an attack on Mathias Point, Virginia on June 16, 1861 and his commander, James H. Ward, became the first U.S. Navy officer killed in the war.

Following the war, Lawrence & Foulks resumed the construction of a variety of vessels, like the Sylvan Dell, a ferry built for the Harlem & New York Navigation Company (it earned the nickname the "Queen of New York Harbor"), and the first schooner built after the Civil War, the Jennie Stout.

On October 20, 1877, Sarah Lawrence died a month before her 84th birthday.  Her funeral was held in the house on October 24, at 11 a.m.  By then, Herbert, Sr. had retired and Herbert, Jr. had stepped into the senior partnership role.  

On March 1, 1882, The New York Times reported, "Mr. Herbert Lawrence, a very old resident of this City and one who was closely identified with ship-building interests here in the early years of the century, died yesterday at his residence, No. 267 Henry-street."  The article commented, "he bought the house in which he died yesterday 36 years ago, when Henry-street was a fashionable locality."  His funeral on March 2 would be the last in the venerable house.

The "fashionable locality" mentioned in the article had greatly changed since the Lawrence family moved in.  The district was now mostly filled with Eastern European Jewish immigrants.  On June 16, 1888, the Record & Guide reported that the Lawrence house had been sold to "The Louis Down-Town Sabbath School."  The cost had been $14,250, and "with an additional expenditure of $5,000, was converted into a well-appointed schoolhouse," according to The New York Times.  The total expenditure would translate to about $636,000 today.

The girls' school was founded in 1880 by Mrs. A. H. Louis.  Seven years after it moved into 267 Henry Street, on June 16, 1895, The New York Times praised, "The Louis Down-Town Sabbath and Daily School is a magnificent example of what can be accomplished by noble-minded women among the young and old of their sex in the hearts of the slums."  The article said the sponsors, "by the hand with kindness and tact, has induced these little girls to go to the schoolhouse and receive not only the rudiments of an English education and that of the ancient faith of Moses and the children of Israel, but lessons in decorum, cleanliness, and useful knowledge to the housewife."

The 50 students were from 8 to 15 years old.  The curriculum focused on preparing the girls for life later.  The morning consisted of "plain sewing, fancy needlework, dressmaking, millinery, and cooking."  In the afternoons, they were instructed in "stenography, typewriter, bookkeeping, and in elementary English."  The article stressed, "The officers and teachers endeavor to place the girls with families and business houses and thereby counteract...as possible the evils of the sweatshop system."

The New York Times, June 10, 1905 (copyright expired)

On February 10, 1902, The Evening World reported, "Adolph Lewisohn to-day gave $75,000 to the Hebrew Technical School towards a fund for another school building," and that Nathaniel Meyers had added $5,000.  The article recalled, "The school is located at No. 267 Henry street for the education of poor east side girls."  The massive funding resulted in an announcement  on May 5, 1903 that a planned building at Second Avenue and 15th Street was planned.

The school relocated in 1906 and on May 11 Morris Loeb purchased the building for $28,000 (about $978,000 today).  The Federal style residence was given a remarkable re-do.  The attic was raised to a third floor, the entrance dropped below grade, and the facade given a Georgian inspired transformation, including handsome arched tympana over the floor windows and Colonial splayed lintels at the second floor.

The renovation of 267 (right) was remarkable.  Next door, at 265 Henry Street was the original Henry Settlement House property.  from the NYC Records & Information Services.

At the time, Lillian D. Wald had operated the Henry Street Settlement next door at 265 Henry Street since 1894.  Loeb donated 267 Henry Street to the Settlement as administrative offices.

Eventually, 263 Henry Street would be acquired by the organization as well.  When a proposal in 1964 threatened to raze and replace the properties, the officers chose instead to restore the historic structures.  The work of the Henry Street Settlement continues within the three vintage structures.  No. 267 Henry Street--which would be unrecognizable to the Lawrence family today--is as important for its social history as for its striking architecture.

photographs by the author

The 1827 Joseph Benedict House - 263 Henry Street

 

The subtle change of brick color testifies to the addition of the upper floors.

The Dutch Rutgers clan first settled in Albany, but moved to New York in the 18th century.  Henry Rutgers was related to the Lispenard family by marriage.  He established a large estate on which, in 1798, he erected a Presbyterian church, known as "the kirk on Rutgers Farm."  According to The Sun decades later, "On, July 27, 1799, Rutgers on his own grounds paraded the militia before President Washington, Gov. Clinton and visiting Indian chiefs, and thereafter he was Col. Rutgers.  Gilbert Stuart painted Washington’s portrait at that time, and it was a prized possession of the Rutgers mansion.”

Streets were laid out on the sprawling Rutgers Farm in the first years of the 19th century.  Rutgers left his mark on the map, naming Rutgers Street where his mansion stood.  It intersected Henry Street, named for himself.  There were also Catherine Street, named for Catherine Rutgers, and Bancker Street, named for Rutgers's son-in-law.  (The street which divided the Rutgers estate from the De Lancey farm was given the name Division Street.)

The former Rutgers Farm became a high-toned residential neighborhood.  In 1827, a two-and-a-half-story, Federal style home was erected at 263 Henry Street.  Faced in red brick, the 24-foot wide residence would have had a handsome Federal style entrance with columns and sidelights (similar to the surviving example next door at 265), and dormers at the attic level.

The family of Joseph Benedict lived here at least from the mid-1830s through 1841.  He was a clerk in the Post Office on Nassau Street.  Mercy King, the widow of John A. King, occupied the house in 1853 and '54, followed by another widow, Hannah Ashford.  Living with her was her adult son, John A. Ashford, Jr.  Hannah died here on July 15, 1861 at the age of 69.  Her funeral was held in the parlor at 2:00 on July 17, and she was interred in Greenwood Cemetery.

There would be another funeral here less than a year later.  Charles H. and Caroline M. Smith next moved into the house and had a baby, Charles, Jr. on December 13, 1861.  The boy died four months later and his funeral was held on May 4, 1862.

The house continued to be leased to a succession of well-heeled tenants.  Emily Thompson, the widow of Andrew Thompson, lived here in 1864-65, and Henry Donald, a stevedore, occupied the house from 1867 through 1869.

No. 263 Henry Street was sold in June 1870 for $13,500 (about $325,000 in 2024).  It was purchased by Mary A. McEntee, who leased it to Nelson and Lydia A. Bush.  Nelson was the proprietor of an "eatinghouse," or restaurant at 166 Nassau Street.  

Nelson Bush joined his father's business in 1873, the same year the Bushes took in a boarder.  Jeremiah Hitchcock, a saddler, lived with the family from about 1873 through 1878.  

The Bush family moved to Wilson Street in Brooklyn in 1880.  That year George Graham and his wife purchased 263 Henry Street.  In May, they hired architect Gage Inslee to enlarge the property.  His plans said the dwelling would "be raised to four stories, also a four-story brick extension on rear."  The renovations cost the Grahams about $72,300 in today's money.  Inslee gave the openings fanciful brownstone lintels with vining, incised carvings.  The parlor floor windows were additionally embellished with diminutive molded cornices above the lintels.  Sandwiched between the lintel and cornice of the entrance was a fancifully carved Queen Anne panel with a sunburst and volutes.  A modern neo-Grec cornice crowned the design.

The renovations resulted in modern, Queen Anne fencing contrasted to the openwork Federal newels.

George Graham died at the age of 64 on August 26, 1890.  His funeral was held here three days later followed by a requiem mass at St. Theresa's Church, on Rutgers Street.

It appears that Graham's widow moved soon afterward.  She was living in Iceland, New Jersey in July 1898 when she hired architect Max Muller to erect an interior wall.  By now the Henry Street neighborhood had significantly changed--from one of aristocratic families to mostly Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe.  Before long she would have a most celebrated tenant.

Rabbi Jacob Joseph was described by The New York Times as "the highest official in the orthodox Jewish religion in the United States."  Born in Russia, he was the head of the Congregation Beth Hamedrash Hagodai at 64 Norfolk and had written several books.  In 1894 he suffered a stroke, but continued to work.  Then in 1898 (the year Mrs. Graham had the wall installed), he had a relapse, which left him paralyzed.

According to Scott D. Seligman in his The Chief Rabbi's Funeral: 

Despite the astronomical salary he had been paid during his early years in America, he had never managed to amass a nest egg, and in the 1890s he was forced to relocate to a more modest home at 263 Henry Street.  By 1901 he was not only paralyzed but nearly penniless.

On the evening of July 28, 1902, according to The New York Times, "his family gathered about his bedside.  When he died his son and his married daughters were present."  The article said, "As soon as the death became known crowds began to gather in front of the house.  Nearly a thousand persons were there, and prayers were offered for the rabbi."

About 50,000 mourners accompanied the rabbi's coffin from the house.  Salvation magazine reported, "Seldom before, not even during the meat riot, had so many thousands of people thronged the streets.  Never had a man so well beloved by the Orthodox Jews died in this country."  The article said, "From the door of the Chief Rabbi's humble home at 263 Henry Street, to the gateway of the Temple Rodolph Shalom Cemetery, in Cypress Hills, L. I., the route of the funeral line was one continuous path of mourning."

But it did not go smoothly.  Antisemitic sentiment was strong, and as the procession with the unpainted pine coffin passed the Hoe factory on Grand Street, workers hissed and jeered from the windows.  One employee recounted seeing his coworkers, "throw water and missiles down onto the surging crowds of mourners.  At last, he saw the hose turned on the streets," as reported by The New York Times.

A riot broke out.  The 300 policemen detailed for the event were overwhelmed, and their response, at least according to some witnesses, was focused on the mourners rather than the instigators.  On August 2, 1902, The New York Times headlined an article, "Police Denounced by Jews In Mass Meeting," and reported that 3,000 people had crammed into Cooper Union "to protest against the conduct of the policemen and factory workers who participated in Wednesday's rioting."

A community leader angrily protested, "The men in the factory insulted us wantonly.  Then the police, who should have protected us, clubbed us into insensibility."  A lawyer, Abraham D. Levy, headed a committee to bring charges "against the officers who had clubbed the mourners in the funeral procession," said The Times.  

The 1880 lintel is a spectacular example.

Mrs. Joseph Fine founded the Hebrew Day Nursery in the house in 1904.  Born in Poland in 1860, she was the daughter of Rabbi Joshua Seigel and "a prominent worker in various Jewish welfare organizations," according to The Sun.  She was a director of the Home of the Daughters of Jacob, of the Harlem Daughters of Israel, and of the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School.

The Hebrew Day Nursery allowed mothers to work during the day.  It continued its work here after Mrs. Fine's death on March 28, 1919.  

On the afternoon of July 7, 1925, a fire broke out on the stairway between the second and third floors.  The New York Evening Post reported, "The dozen children who occupied the Hebrew Day Nursery at 263 Henry street yesterday are unharmed today...Teachers and nurses removed their charges to the street while the flames were extinguished."  The damage was limited to $200 (just under $3,500 today).

Lillian D. Wald founded the Henry Street Settlement in 1893 and two years later Jacob Schiff purchased the house at 265 Henry Street for the organization.  In 1935, the Settlement acquired 263 Henry Street and opened the Workers' Education Center, sponsored by the Works Progress Administration.  In her 2020 The House on Henry Street, Ellen M. Snyder-Grenier explains it, "served 150 students, most of them from the Lower East Side: unemployed cooks, clerks, laborers, stonecutters, shipping clerks, garment workers, and more."

A poster advertised an "information study group" here.  from the collection of the Library of Congress.

The house was renovated twice--in 1942 and 1994.  The first resulted in classrooms in the basement, first and third floors, with one apartment each on the second and fourth floors.  The last remodeling changed the basement and parlor floor classrooms to office space.

photographs by the author

Engine Company No. 15 -- No. 269 Henry Street

 

To the left of the 1884 fire house an elegant Federal home survives.

Before 1865 New York City’s fire fighting depended on a disorganized collection of volunteer companies.  When a fire broke out, young men in the neighborhood called “laddies” would scramble to the fire house.  Nearby fire houses would vie with one another to arrive at the fire first, or to become more skilled at extinguishing it.  Most of the volunteer groups gained a reputation as rowdy, boisterous gangs whose fire houses were essentially social clubs.

But Americus Engine Company No. 6 was a bit more refined.  In 1854 an upscale home at No. 269 Henry Street was converted to a firehouse.  It was situated in the midst of one of Manhattan’s most exclusive residential neighborhoods.  The renovated interiors retained many of their luxurious details.  

This engraving was made shortly after the house was converted to a fire station.  Well dressed ladies and a gentleman admired the handsome steam engines.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Nevertheless, its members—10 of whom lived permanently in the building in 1855--held blue-collar jobs; many of them maritime due to the nearby seaport.   That year the roster listed occupations like spar-maker, caulker, sail-maker, ship joiner, and stevedore.  Among the others were cartman, butcher, blacksmith, carriage-maker, cabinet-maker, marble-cutter and piano forte hardware.

A gasolier and oil paintings made the Americus "bunk room" home-like.  Our Fire Firemen, 1887 (copyright expired)

In 1861 there were 48 members of Americus Engine Company No. 6, popularly known as the “Big Six.”  That year the firehouse received a shiny new steamer, built by Silsby, Mynderse & Co. in Seneca Falls, New York.  The Board of Aldermen’s inspection noted that the company’s 200 feet of rubber hose and 300 feet of leather hose were “in good condition.”

The days of American Engine Company No. 6 were numbered by now.  The devastating fire that destroyed Barnum’s Museum in 1865 along with pressure on the State Assembly by reformers resulted in the Act of 1865 that coupled Brooklyn and New York with a paid, united “Metropolitan District” fire department.

On September 5 that year The New York Times reported that the Big Six, in preparation “to give up housekeeping” was selling off its “furniture and adornments of their house” that day.  The items up for sale gave a hint of the comfortable accommodations here.  “Among the furniture are two cooking-stoves and a chowder-pot, a piano, music and stool, thirty velvet-cushioned chairs, and no less than five sofas.  Among the decorations are about one hundred oil paintings, some of them of considerable value.”

Two weeks later, on September 19, the Committee on Appointments and Discipline recommended “an engine company be organized, to be known as Metropolitan Engine Company No. 15, in the house formerly occupied by Americus Engine Company No. 6, stationed at No. 269 Henry-street.”

The professional Engine Company would make do of the aging accommodations for two decades.  In 1882 the first steps were taken to replace it with a modern fire house.   In December requests for “sealed proposals for furnishing the materials and labor, and doing the work required” for construction a fire house were made by the Fire Department.  Nearly a year later, in September 1883, the proposal of $18,200 by Mahony Bros. was accepted and the contract awarded.

The plans for Engine Company No. 15 had been filed on May 11.  For four years Napoleon LeBrun & Son had been the official architects for the New York Fire Department.  The firm’s designs were as handsome as they were utilitarian.  For Engine Company No. 15 it mixed Romanesque Revival with the newly-emerging Queen Anne style.    The cast iron base followed the customary fire house arrangement—two openings flanking a large central engine bay.  The lively capitals incorporated torches—emblematic of the fire department—and stylized sunflowers, an important Queen Anne and Esthetic Movement motif.  The sunflowers reappeared below the cornice, lining up as large terra cotta tiles.

Panels of saw-tooth brick separated the upper levels and created tactile interest.  The arched openings of the top floor, the nod to Romanesque, were joined by a single vaulting brick eyebrow.  On either side, ambitious brick console brackets embraced the cornice.  Here, too, was an important Queen Anne element, the sunburst.

The architects were apparently pleased with their design.  They used it two more times in the identical Engine Company No. 53 on East 104^th Street and Engine Company No. 54 on West 47^th Street.

The firefighters living and working from late 19^th century firehouses faced great danger, not only from the fires and dangerous illuminating gas in the buildings; but from the steam-powered engines and the galloping horses that drew them.  And the public was often placed in peril as well.

On January 19, 1903 the Heyward Brothers & Wakefield Company chair factory on Madison Street caught fire following an explosion of benzene.  The New-York Tribune reported the blaze “was made exciting by falling walls, brilliant rescues and the jumping into a net of one of the victims.”

There were about 50 employees in the factory at the time, many trapped by the rapid spread of the flames following the explosion.  When Engine Company No. 15 arrived, they saw 23-year old Frederick Zimmerman standing on a sixth floor window ledge with flames licking close behind him.

With no time to run a ladder up to him, the firemen rushed to pull the life net from the hose wagon.  Civilians helped pull it taut over the sidewalk and Zimmerman was instructed to jump.  He thought about the six-floor plunge for a few seconds, then stepped off the ledge.  The Tribune reported “He kept his balance well in the air, and as he neared the net threw himself backward and landed in the net on his back.”

The crowd expected to see him bounce slightly in the net; but to their shock and horror he crashed through the net onto the sidewalk.  He was taken to Gouveneur Hospital with suspected internal injuries.

The other trapped employees were far more fortunate.  Daring rescues were made that night, at least one man being carried down a ladder on a fire fighter’s back.

Later that year, on July 22, Engine Company No. 15 responded to an alarm.  A crowd of children were playing on the sidewalk on Clinton Street when the fire engine tore around the corner from Henry Street.  Five-year old Sarah Adelman, unaware of the danger, started across the street.  The New-York Tribune reported “As unconcerned as if she were still playing on the sidewalk, she stood in the middle of the street.  On hearing the cries of women and seeing the swaying tender approaching, she became paralyzed with fear and made no effort to get out of the way.”

Michael Martin, driving the engine, realized that the team of horses was going so fast he could not slow them in time, nor even swerve to avoid the girl.  Taking a desperate change, he aimed directly for her, “trusting to luck that she would pass between the horses.”

Martin’s gamble worked.  Sarah stood motionless as the horses galloped by on either side of her.  She was knocked down by the pole and the tender passed over her without the wheels touching her body.  The little girl escaped with a cut on the head and a lesson learned.

Burning torches are incorporated into the leafy capitals, and flames erupt from behind the round medallion.

The once-elegant neighborhood around the firehouse had substantially changed by now.  Fine homes had been replaced by tenements and the Henry Street area was one of immigrants, many German Jews.  Near the fire house, on Gouverneur Street, between Henry Street and East Broadway, was the East Side Kindergarten and Industrial School.  When an overheated stove set fire to the building during school hours on March 17, 1908, the principal did some quick and resourceful thinking.

Before Engine Company 15 could arrive, Mrs. Hill prevented the 500 children from being panic-stricken by announcing that classes were being let out early “as it was Purim.”  The New York Times reported “The children marched out quietly” and the fire fighters put out the blaze.

In the fall of 1910 an arsonist was determined, for whatever reason, to destroy the tenement building at No. 170 Clinton Street.  During the first week of November four unsuccessful attempts were made to set fire to the structure.  After those attempts failed, he apparently turned to the building next door at No. 172.  This time he was rewarded.

The fire started in the basement and spread rapidly through the airshaft.  It was discovered then 19-year old Jacob Andrer started down the stairway with his three younger siblings.  The residents of the building, mostly impoverished immigrants, were thrown into a panic.

When Engine Company 15 reached the scene, tragedy had already occurred.  Jacob Andrer had alerted his parents, 60-year old Rebecca Andrer and Rabbi Samuel Andrer, of the quickly growing danger.  There was no way down, so the family of six, who lived on the third floor, started up the fire escape to the roof.  Part way up Rebecca lost her footing on the rickety stairs and fell, nearly taking the rabbi with her.  Her body smashed on the courtyard pavement.

Fire Engine Company 15 rescued the other residents of the building, including the rest of the Andrer family and four children trapped in a fourth floor flat.

 

Boys play in the street in front of the fire station in 1939.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The heroism of the fire fighters was not reserved to conflagrations.  When the United States entered World War II, fireman Peter J. Dannhardt left Engine Company No. 15 to fight for his country.  He never returned.  The men of the station house pooled their money to pay for a bronze plaque in his memory.  Affixed to the firehouse wall, it was unveiled by his parents on his 30^th birthday, July 6, 1946.

The station lost another firefighter in a bizarre accident that year. At around 3:30 on the morning of December 30, the Company responded to a ground floor grocery store fire at No. 234 Henry Street, just one block away.  The blaze was under control an hour later, but Engine Company No. 15 remained for “overhauling” operations.  At 5:25 the fire truck was just pulling into the firehouse when somehow 34-year old Daniel Krauss was thrown from the truck.  He died in the hospital at 6:49 that morning.

In 1975 the City was on the verge of financial collapse.  City employees, like sanitation workers, were being laid off or their number of work days cut back.  The closing of fire stations was seen as another cost cutting method.  When Mayor Abraham Beame’s administration announced that Engine Company No. 15 was on the list of stations to be closed, the neighborhood rebelled.  On July 11 more than 200 demonstrators marched in front of the Fire Department Headquarters on Church Street in protest.

Rather surprisingly, the protestors, many of whom were elderly, were heard.  Engine Company No. 15 remained active.  But then in 2002 the Company moved to a firehouse on nearby Pitt Street.  The old LeBrun-designed building sat vacant, its cast iron tag ENGINE COMPANY NO. 15 removed from above the bay doors.

In 2007 the City transferred ownership to the Henry Street Settlement.  A repurposing plan designed by preservation architects J. Lawrence Johns & Associates and Beyer Blinder Belle Architects will result in a multi-function community and Settlement space while preserving the historic integrity of the design.

photographs by the author