Julius Kaster's 1886 46 East 7th Street

 

photo by Anthony Bellov

Unlike some architects, Julius Kastner did not necessarily specialize.  Instead, his works ranged from warehouses to upscale apartment buildings, and from commercial structures to tenements.  In 1886, developer Jacob H. Miller demolished the vintage house at 46 East 7th Street and commissioned Kastner to design a replacement tenement building on the site.  

The former structure was one of the elegant private homes erected in the early part of the century.  By the Civil War, however, the neighborhood had changed as thousands of immigrants flooded the district.  Tenement buildings like this one would relieve the resultant housing problem.  Five stories tall, it was faced with red brick and trimmed in sandstone and terra cotta.  Kastner created a potpourri of currently popular styles.  Renaissance Revival appeared in the ornate terra cotta plaques and bandcourses; while the neo-Grec style was reflected in the stone lintels, connected to one another by stone bands.  The two-step stoop was flanked by beefy cast iron newels and railings, while handsome Aesthetic style fencing protected the areaways.

Called a "double-flat," 46 East 7th Street had two apartments per floor.  Among the early tenants were a German-born woman, who was struggling to make an income.  She placed an advertisement in The Sun in September 16, 1892 that read, "A young lady as cashier in a cafe saloon, Walter, 46 East 7th st., ground floor, left," and seven days later advertised, "A young German lady gives piano lessons at home."  She tried another tack in October, when a new ad read: "A young German widow wants place as housekeeper. 46 East 7th st. ground floor left.  Walter."

Four years later, another female tenant was creatively looking for work.  She placed two advertisements in the New York Herald on Christmas Eve 1896.  The first read, "Respectable young lady as housekeeper. Mrs. Schach, 46 East 7th st., ground floor," and the second read, "Lady manicure wishes more customers, home or out.  Mrs. Schach 46 East 7th, ground floor."

The Cook family lived here in 1909.  On July 5 that year, 18-year-old Florence Cook went to Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx with two other teen girls.  The Sun reported that they were "crossing [Eastern Boulevard] on their way home...when they heard an automobile horn close upon them.  The other two jumped aside, but Miss Cook was thrown several feet."  The driver sped off but Florence's astute friends were able to remember the license plate number.

Florence was taken to Fordham Hospital with a fractured skull.  She died there two days later without having regained consciousness.  On July 10, The New York Times reported that the hit-and-run driver, "a merchant, now living in Troy," had been tracked down.

Isaac Swimer, his wife and their 12-year-old daughter, lived here as early as 1913.  A marine engineer, Swimer had served in the Spanish-American War.  On April 23, 1913, he was robbed by three holdup men at Sixth Avenue and 14th Street.  They took a ring valued at $150 (nearly $5,000 in 2025).  The three men were arrested, but the Grand Jury refused to indict them "upon their plea that the ring had been taken as a gambling debt in a crap game," reported The New York Times.

Swimer regained his ring, but he was soon back in court over the incident.  The New York Times said, "Later he was fined $10 for beating one of the witnesses who had testified against him."  Because of the holdup, Swimer began carrying a revolver for his protection.

Things were looking well for the family and Swimer opened his own machine shop at 501 East Houston Street early in 1914.  On March 19, he went to Fensterheim's Turkish Baths on Third Street.  He was wearing the ring that was involved in the earlier robbery and another one valued at $60 (about $1,960 today).  He fell asleep in the "cot room" and awakened to discover his rings had been taken from his fingers.  The New York Times reported, "Swimer glared angrily at the two men who had been sleeping at either side of him and asserted that he would have back his rings."

Swimer sent another patron, Arthur Cohen, to report the theft as "he kept his eyes on his nearest neighbors, Sam Connors, alias 'Whitey,' alias 'Spunky'...and Louis Baumgarten."  The newspaper said that both men "had unsavory reputations in the neighborhood."  Cohen returned with a detective but when Swimer could not produce proof of their guilt, the policeman could not pursue the charge and left.

With the officer gone, according to other patrons, Connors "announced that Swimer would never have another chance to 'squeal.'"  The detective had just reached the ground floor when he heard shots coming from above and "a dozen men, most of them clad only in bath towels and sheets, piled pell-mell downstairs."  He returned upstairs to find Swimer "flourishing a revolver."  Swimer said to the officer, "I couldn't help it.  I had to do it."

Swimer had shot Connors through the left temple and Baumgarten just above the heart.  Both were unconscious.  Connors died a few hours later and the following day Baumgarten had little hopes of survival.  Despite the statements by witnesses, Swimer was held in The Tombs charged with homicide.

On August 16, 1924, Herman Tubb, who lived at 247-09 Jamaica Avenue in Queens, walked out of his house to discover that his $500 Chevrolet sedan was gone.  Police found it at Jamaica Avenue and 178th Street being driven by Charles Hammasher, who lived at 46 East 7th Street.  He was charged with grand larceny.

The original stoop ironwork survived in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Lower East Side was the epicenter of Socialist and Communist activities in the first half of the 20th century.  Residents Mike Holvowitz, Ann Segen, and Sophie Semchyn voted for the Communist Party in the 1936 general election (and their names were quickly documented by the Congressional Special Committee on Un-American Activities).

By the Depression years, the first floor apartments were converted to business.  In the 1970s, the film company Parnasses Productions and Contract Aftercare, an abuse treatment center, were located in the building.

Among the residents by the early 1980s was sculptor Michi Raphael.  Born in 1925, she studied with Bruno Luccesi and Manuel Pasquel.  In reporting on her exhibition at the Lowe-Levinson Art Gallery in Miami Beach, The Miami News noted on December 17, 1980, "The artist sculpts most of her works in bronze and stainless steel."

Michi Raphael's La Valse.  image via mutualart.com

At some point in the second half of the 20th century, the brawny stoop ironwork was replaced with modern, much less charismatic railings.  Otherwise, Julius Kastner's 1886 design is essentially intact.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

Julius Kastner's 1885 1 West 100th Street and 406 Central Park West

 

photo by Anthony Bellov

While Fifth Avenue along Central Park developed with sumptuous mansions, Central Park West on the opposite side, saw the rise of residential hotels and apartment buildings.  In 1884 real estate developer George W. Eggers hired architect Julius Kastner to design two flat, or apartment, buildings on the northwest corner of Central Park West and 100th Street.  Completed the following year, each cost Eggers $14,000 to construct, or about $407,000 in 2022.

Faced in red brick and trimmed in limestone, Kastner's Beaux Arts design gave only slight hints that the two structures were not one.  The entrance to 406 Central Park West sat within a noble portico upheld by polished granite columns and topped by an ambitious, carved pediment.  A store occupied the sidewalk level, directly below blind balustrades which fronted the second floor windows.  Two-story faceted bays supported by garland-carved brackets provided charming sitting areas to the third and fourth floor apartments, and balconies to those on the fifth.

Around the corner, the portico at 1 West 100th Street upheld a balcony.  Rather than projecting bays, the design featured stone-and-iron balconies at the third and fifth floors.  Atop the cornice sat an imposing pediment.  George W. Eggers was apparently well pleased with his new buildings, and moved his family into 1 West 100th Street.

At the turn of the century, the store was home to the Park Pharmacy, operated by G. L. Walter.  It would be a fixture in the neighborhood for years.  (Interestingly, Walter held an excise, or liquor, license for the business.)

An advertisement described the five-room apartments as having "all conveniences."  Some of the occupants of the buildings were affluent enough to be included in Dau's New York Blue Book of Society.  Such was the case with John A. Bradshaw and John H. Fitzell.  They were not so wealthy that their unmarried daughters did not have to work, however.  Harriett E. Bradshaw taught in the girl's department of P.S. 87 on Amsterdam Avenue in 1903, for instance, while her sister, Bessie, taught at P.S. 170 on 111th Street.  Three years later Harriett was earning $1,320 per year and Bessie was making $1,272--around $41,000 and $39,500 today.

At the end of the 1920's, it had become apparent that Prohibition had grossly failed.  Rather than stop the production and consumption of alcohol, Prohibition had simply made it illegal.  Mobsters grew rich from bootlegging, speakeasies were omnipresent, and organized crime terrorized cities with murders and bombings.  Almost immediately after the end of Prohibition in 1933, James Kelly obtained a liquor license for the Central Park West store space, which he called the Boulevard Tavern.

Kelly's tavern and meeting room catered to Irish Americans.  On April 15, 1939 the Irish-American newspaper The Advocate announced, "A special meeting of the Clare F. C. will take place this Friday evening, April 14, at James J. Kelly's Boulevard clubrooms."

By the 1950's. Kelly's was the headquarters for several Irish social groups, like the Sligo Association; and for Irish athletic groups like the Galway Athletic Association, the Sligo Football Club, and the Cavan Football Club.  The tavern was such a well-known meeting spot for Irish New Yorkers, that it became the basis for a poem.  On January 24, 1953 The Advocate published Jim Valentia Smith's verse, "The Men I Meet at Kelly's."  It told the story of a "lonesome Irishman" visiting New York who wandered into the Central Park West pub.  The poem said in part:

The lads I met were Irish, and some from New York Town,

Who knew I was a stranger in this city of renown.

They asked me where I came from, and as each one shook my hand

He jumped with joy at my reply, "I came from Ireland."

The poem included a line that summed up the sense of fraternity at the Boulevard Tavern, "The men I met at Kelly's, no better on this earth / All of them of Irish blood, though some of Yankee birth."

The tavern remained, still home to several Irish groups, until about 1972.  But by then the demographics of the neighborhood were changing.  The retail space was divided into two.  One became home to a Kansas Fried Chicken shop, and the other to the Parc West Lounge.  

At 2 a.m. on September 14, 1974, two Parc West Lounge patrons, Jose Garcia and Charles White, began arguing.  Garcia, who was 25 years old, left and returned with a handgun and shot White.  White wrested the weapon from his assailant and shot him dead.  White was treated for his superficial wound and arrested for homicide.

A year later, at around 9:45 p.m., three men, one carrying a shotgun, entered the bar and announced a holdup.  As they went from patron to patron, taking cash and jewelry, a barmaid pressed a hidden alarm button.  The brutal robbers "pushed, kicked and struck four male patrons," according to The New York Times.  "Then they locked seven patrons and the barmaid in the restroom."

Police arrived just as one of the men was rushing out.  The New York Times reported, "After a search, a second suspect was found hiding in the basement, they said, and a third behind a radiator."  The four victims were injured seriously enough to be taken to Arthur C. Logan Memorial Hospital.

The Parc West Lounge was replaced by Park Lunch by 1986.  Today the ground floor has been dissected again.  The space where Irish Americans shared camaraderie for decades is now home to three small shops.  Overall (other than the storefronts), Julius Kastner's handsome 1885 buildings are nearly perfectly preserved, including the two columned porticos--so often victims of modernization.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

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The 1894 Aspell & Co. Building - 151 Hudson Street

On July 1, 1823 Helen Lispenard Stewart was married to James Watson Webb in the mansion of her father, Alexander L. Stewart.  The three-and-a-half story Federal-style mansion sat at the southwest corner of Hudson and Hubert Streets.  Directly behind it was a two-story brick stable.

By the outbreak of the Civil War the days of wealthy homeowners and fashionable gatherings in the neighborhood were nearly a memory.

As late as 1937 altered houses similar to the Stewart mansion survived along Hudson Street one block south.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

By the 1890's the Stewart mansion had become a seedy rooming house, occupied by dockworkers and other rowdies.  Among those was longshoreman William Goonan and his wife, and William Cleary, another dockworker.

On Saturday night, March 24, 1894 Cleary began drinking.  It would be the last time the roughneck got drunk.  At around 1:00 in the morning he was in Goonan's room and the two got into a vicious fight after Cleary claimed "that he was the best man along the docks."

According to The Evening World, "Goonan disputed Cleary's claim and the two men clinched.  They rolled out of the room into the hallway and down a flight of stairs.  On the landing below a big pool of blood tells that a fearful fight took place there."

Roused by the noisy affray, a boy ran from the house and called Policeman Schoenfield.  When the officer arrived he found Cleary stabbed in the face and neck and Goonan with a knife in his fist.  The Evening World reported "Goonan, who was also badly beaten in the fight, was committed to the Tombs without bail."

The old mansion was soon gone.  It had been purchased a year earlier, on April 14, 1893, by Joseph H. Bearns, who owned several properties in the area.  The principal in the liquor importing firm Joseph H. Bearns & Co., he had hired architect Julius Kastner to design a five-story loft building on the opposite corner of the block, at No. 10 Hubert Street, two years earlier.  In fact, the two had worked on similar projects since the 1880's.  They would collaborate again for No. 151 Hudson Street.

Kastner's completed structure was similar to several of his other designs for Bearns.  A handsome, industrial take on Romanesque Revival, it was faced in yellow Roman brick and trimmed in brownstone and red sandstone.  Designed in four parts separated by brownstone cornices, it exhibited expected husky Romanesque Revival elements like undressed bandcourses, lusty medieval-style carvings, arched openings at the top floor.  But Kastner softened the  design with the use of bullnosed bricks which rounded the corners.  While he could have saved Bearns money with terra cotta decorations, he opted for carved ornaments throughout and executed the complex cornice in stone.

The rounded edges soften the overall appearance of the building.  Note the spiraled corner detailing of the top floor.  The stone elements that drip like stalactites from the cornice are somewhat hidden today behind metal sheathing. 

As the building rose, Aspell & Co. was operating from Nos. 314-316 Greenwich Street.  The wholesale grocery dealers embarked on an unusual marketing scheme that year.  It opened a new department that offered certain items at wholesale prices to individual shoppers--a savings of up to 50 percent.

An advertisement on August 19, 1894 promised the housekeeper that on top of the savings, she could have "the goods delivered free of charge in or out of the city" (foreshadowing by more than a century retail giants like Amazon).  There was "a full line of staple and fancy groceries and wines, etc., also table delicacies suitable for city, country or seaside use."

New-York Tribune, November 13, 1895 (copyright expired)

Before the turn of the century Aspell & Co. had moved into No. 151 Hudson Street.  It shared the building with the Cincinnati-based S. A. Sloman Co.  Samuel A Sloman had made a drastic change to his family's business a few years earlier--from trading in furs to the manufacture of liquor.

Since the mid-1890's he marketed his Diamond Wedding Whiskey as a remedy rather than an intoxicant.  His ads promised it "invigorates feeble constitutions, renews life and arrests disease."  Others said it restored "power and suppleness to the muscles, warmth and richness for the blood."

This ad promised the whiskey was "invaluable to nursing mothers."  original resource unknown

Apparently the military bought into the restorative powers of Diamond Wedding Whiskey, for in 1900 both S. A. Sloman & Co. and Aspell & Co. were bidding on contracts with the U.S. Navy.

Three years later the directors of Aspell & Company agreed to dissolve the corporation.  It was replaced at No. 151 Hudson Street by Wm. A. Leggett & Co., wholesale grocers and dealers in condensed milk.  William Leggett had established his company in 1870.

In January 1908 Joseph H. Bearns leased the entire building to Bennett, Day & Co. "for a long term of years."  Wm. A. Leggett & Co. was allowed to stay on as a sub-tenant.

There was no long a Bennett in Bennett, Day & Co.  The wholesale grocery business was owned by husband-and-wife partners Henry Mason Day and Emily Garnett Day.  The Virginians had come to New York in 1874 and opened a dried fruit and nut business.  The New-York Tribune noted decades later that for "many years [Day] imported whole crops of fruits from Brazil and other countries and disposed of them to wholesalers in this country."

The Days were prosperous and maintained a summer home in Greenwich, Connecticut, where Henry moored his yacht.  But Henry's health had begun failing by the time his company leased the Hudson Street building.  He had essentially retired in 1903, spending most of his time in Europe, California and Florida because of his ill health.  On January 18 1909, a year after signing the lease, he died at the age of 58.

About the time of Day's death William A. Leggett suffered an attack of bronchitis.  His condition did not improve and a year later, in September 1910, he succumbed at the age of 81.

Kastner's attention to detail included delightful miniature Romanesque Revival columns incorporated into the upper portion of the cast iron storefront.

Although his death brought an end to Wm. A. Leggett & Co.; Bennett, Day & Co. continued under the control of Emily Day and her son, Lee Garnett Day.  Lee was, perhaps, less interested in the wholesale grocery business than in adventure.

On December 25, 1914 The New York Times noted that he had graduated from Yale University in 1911 and "has hunted big game from India, and recently returned from a trip of five months' exploration in Brazil."  The purpose of the article was to announce he was setting off on yet another expedition, this time "to explore unknown parts of the South American jungles under the auspices of the American Museum of Natural History and the Field Museum of Chicago."  Day personally managed and financed the extensive undertaking.

Day told the reporter "Not a specimen of the mammal or of bird life has ever been obtained there.  Should we be successful in getting specimens some of them at least should prove to be of value to the collections of the museums because of their rarity."

Bennett, Day & Co. remained at No. 151 through 1917, before moving to No. 165 Hudson Street.  That year Simon W. Greenbaum & Co. was incorporated by Simon and his brother, H. M. Greenbaum, and J. Socoloff to import and export peas and beans."  In February 1918 the firm leased the Hudson Street building.

The Produce District edged up against the wholesale shoe district.  As the years passed shoe merchants pushed out the grocery dealers in some areas of Tribeca.   When Simon W. Greenbaum & Co. signed the lease on No. 151, the O'Sullivan Heel Company was operating from nearby No. 131 Hudson Street.  By 1922 they had taken over the Greenbaum lease.

Founded by James and Humphrey O'Sullivan in August 1899, the firm manufactured replacement heels for men's shoes.  It marketed its rubber heels as being less jarring than the more common leather versions.  An advertisement in 1922 explained "One of the chief causes of fatigue is the strain of standing--the jar of walking on hard floors and pavements."  The hard leather heels gave no relief and "ordinary rubber heels are little better."  But as in the Goldilocks story, O'Sullivan's Safety Cushion Heels "combine just the right toughness for long hard wear with the greatest amount of springiness."

The Evening World, June 12, 1922 (copyright expired)

In 1908 author William Richard Cutter wrote "Countless imitators, in all countries, have paid their sincerest flattery, by their unscrupulous attempts to foist upon the public, their imitations of rubber heels, and the inevitable results, that none have been, as yet, successful, each claiming for his own to be as good as the 'O'Sullivan'--'The Standard'--the yard stick of the rubber heel industry."

O'Sullivan Rubber Co. was still in the building in 1950 when the Bearns estate sold No. 151 "to an investor," as reported by The Times on March 1.  The article noted that it was the last of Bearns's many properties to be sold and that the "sale was the first involving the property in fifty-seven years."

At the time the Tribeca renaissance was still a few decades away.  The first signs of change would come in 1980 when the ground floor became home to Sheba, an Ethiopian restaurant.  The New York Times food critic Mimi Sheraton approved, saying "Huge napkin-size crepes are the eating implements in which are wrapped curried stews such as the doro watt, and minchet abesh wott.  Kitfo, a raw ground beef specialty is a personal favorite."

Sheba made way for Thai House Cafe in early 1987.  Six months after its opening New York Magazine said "This is food you'd expect to find in a Thai home, carefully cooked and tamely spiced."  The restaurant remained in the space at least through 1991.

In the meantime the building had experienced cinematic exposure when it posed as the Hotel Broslin in the 1982 film Basket Case.  A large neon sign was hung from the fire escape for the outside shots of the fictitious hotel.

Although a Certificate of Occupancy for the commodious loft dwellings at No. 151 was not officially rendered until 2010; the building had become residential decades earlier.  In 1992 Birnbaum's New York, written by Stephen and Alexandra Mayes Birnbaum noted "Only the most urban personalities tend to live in TriBeCa--Harvey Keitel, Robert De Niro, and Martin Scorsese are among the pack who have lived in converted lofts at 151 Hudson Street."

The building stretches back to No. 2 Hubert Street, where the Stewarts' two-story stables once stood.

Meticulously restored, the facade of Julius Hastner's 1894 structure is essentially unchanged.  Its three-color design stands out among its neighbors in the constantly-evolving Tribeca neighborhood.

photographs by the author

Liquor, Pistachios and a Penthouse - Julius Kastner's 1892 10 Hubert Street

The 25-foot-wide, two-and-a-half story brick house that sat at the northwest corner of Hubert and Collister Street in the early decades of the 19th century was owned by Trinity Church.  In the 1840's it was home to the Rev. Jonathan M. Wainwright.  Directly behind was a similar house, also owned by the Church.  As the century drew to a close the neighborhood had fully changed from residential to industrial and the once handsome homes had been converted for business use.

On July 22, 1891 Joseph H. Bearns purchased the old houses, paying Michael and Frances Murtha $25,500, a little over $700,000 today.  The principal in the liquor importing J. H. Bearns & Co., he commissioned architect Julius Kastner to design a five-story store and loft building on the site.

Completed the following year, it was an especially handsome commercial take on the Romanesque Revival style.  Faced in beige brick trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta, its clean design avoided the ponderous elements often found in Romanesque structures.  Nearly flush terra cotta capitals capped the ground floor piers that embraced the cast iron storefront.  The fourth floor featured arched openings with terra cotta eyebrows.  Ornate roundels decorated their spandrels below an impressive terra cotta cornice that terminated in wonderful masks--one male the other female.  A bracketed cast metal cornice completed the design.

The terra cotta masks flanking the fourth floor cornice are outstanding.

J. H. Bearns & Co. was highly successful, importing expensive brandies and wines from London and Europe.  Joseph H. Bearns would hire Julius Kastner several times more to design Tribeca structures.

Among Bearns' employees in the Hubert Street building in 1895 was James Connelly.  The apparently fiery-tempered Irishman did not make it to work on January 24 that year.  The operator of a streetcar enraged him that morning and he was arrested "for throwing stones at motorman in Broadway," according to The Sun.

Rather surprisingly, it appears that Bearns and Kastner had not included an elevator in the original plans; relying instead on "hoistways," or shafts, through which goods were raised and lowered by pulleys.  In April 1898 architect E. R. A. Berg filed plans to "erect elevator shaft extending from cellar to 5 ft. above roof."

Joseph H. Bearns died in 1914, leaving an estate of $850,000, a staggering $21.5 million today.  The terms of his will no doubt raised eyebrows city-wide.  The estate was distributed among three of his four children--Lillie May, James and Joseph.  The New York Times noted the will "cut off Melville Bearns without a heritage."

James S. Bearns inherited the Hubert Street property and in March 1916 leased it to Otto Isenstein & Co.  The firm imported gums used to make varnish.  Among the products offered in 1917 were "Congo Gum, Kauri Gum, Varnish Gus and Dumar Gums."

World War I sparked anti-German sentiment and discrimination throughout the United States.  Many German-sounding banks, insurance companies and other businesses voluntarily changed their names to avoid problems.  It may have been what prompted Otto Isenstein & Co. to apply for a corporate name change in May 1918 to Innes & Co., Inc.

The war impacted the firm in another way.  On October 30, 1918 Drug & Chemical Markets reported "While most of the kauri gum to be imported is being used by the trade, not a little of it is required by the Government itself.  It is used for various parts of ships and to a large extend for railroad passenger cars."  Because of that need the War Trade Board limited importations of kauri gum to 3 million pounds during 1918.  Innes & Co., Inc. and all other importers, were required to supply a detailed report to the Board showing the amount it brought into Hubert Street.

The firm seems to have been fair to its employees in terms of wages.  When it was looking for a boy "to run errands" in March that year, it offered a starting salary of $8 per week.  Although the hours were long--8:30 to 6:00--the wages for an untrained boy were attractive, around $130 a week today.

After less than two years in the building Innes & Co. moved out in January 1919.  It later became home to the wine and liquor importer Julius Wile Sons & Co.  Like J. S. Bearns & Co., it dealt in high end products.

In the summer of 1938 its executives were outraged when retailers offered one of its brands, Peter Dawson scotch, at discounted prices, equal to about $48.50 today.  On August 11 The New York Times reported "At the offices of Julius Wile Sons & Co., officials said they have already taken steps to halt the price-cutting on their brands."

Julie Wile Sons & Co. had been gone from No. 10 Hubert Street for about two years at the time.  In 1936 John N. Germack took over the building for his pistachio nut operation.  He had purchased the Zeobia Company from its founder, Joseph A. Zaloom, six years earlier, replacing that name with his own.

In the 1930's 10 Hubert Street was in surprisingly pristine condition.  original source unknown

Its Red-Lip brand pistachios were sold to retailers not only as packaged snacks, but for use in their penny vending machines.  One advertisement said in part "There is only one quality of Red-Lip Pistachios--and that is 'top quality"...The public goes for flavor--so, if you want to boost your sales of pistachios, fill your machines with the brand for which the public has shown a decided preference--Germack Red-Lip Pistachios!"

John N. Germack moved to Hudson Street in 1943; but the painted name remained on 10 Hubert Street for decades despite subsequent tenants, like Central Supply Co., here in the 1950's, and Graphic Horizons, Inc. in the '80's.

The 20th century had not been kind to the structure.  By the early 1990's the brick and terra cotta were damaged.  The cornice had been removed at some point in the second half of the century and the cast iron storefront was obliterated and filled in.

photo via ODA New York

But, as was the case with so many neglected Tribeca loft buildings, it was rescued by a residential transformation.  On October 22, 2014 Curbed New York reported that the architectural firm ODA was working on converting it "into a rather high-end rental buildings."  But the project went much farther than a mere renovation, it was as the architects worded it, "a conservation."

The damaged terra cotta details were restored, the lost cast iron storefront reproduced, and a cornice that closely matched the original was fabricated.  A penthouse, unseen from street level, was added, resulting in a total of just four sprawling apartments.  The remarkable restoration brought No. 10 Hubert Street, phoenix-like, to its 1892 nobility.

photographs by the author

Rottmann's Saloon -- No. 104 Grand Street

In 1830 the house of dentist John M. Howe was erected at No. 104 Grand Street, at the corner of Mercer Street.  By 1875 it had been replaced by a two-story brick "store."   John Melchers operated his saloon here.  He ran afoul of the Excise Sunday Law on March 12, 1876.

Before turning his men out that evening, Police Captain McDonnell instructed his patrolmen "to watch all liquor stores on their posts carefully," according to The New York Herald the following day.  Liquor was pouring freely in the Grand Street saloon, and Melcher was arrested.

Six years after the incident, on December 11, 1892, real estate operator James Sterling Bearns purchased No. 104 Grand Street from Henry W. Niemann.  He paid $40,000 for the property, an astonishing $1 million in today's terms.  The value was not in the two-story building; but in the corner plot in a neighborhood which was by now filling with modern commercial structures.

Bearns commissioned architect Julius Kastner to design a replacement building.  The two men would work together on other such projects in the coming years.  The Grand Street building was completed in 1893.  Kastner had produced a five-story brick, stone and cast iron building which married Queen Anne and Romanesque Revival styles.

The ground floor was highlighted with stone courses which produced a striped effect.  A slightly projecting bay at the second floor distinguished the Grand Street elevation.  Grouped openings continued uninterrupted for three floors, embraced by cast metal.  The elliptical arched openings on the Mercer Street side with were trimmed mostly in brick; although the fourth floor windows received stone sills, and rough-cut stone keystones set off the second story openings.  Here Kastner created dimension by inwardly-telescoping the brick window framing.  The top story changed course, turning to groupings of three Romanesque arched windows which sat snugly upon a plain stone cornice.

Bearns quickly leased the ground floor space to George N. Rottmann.  The five-year lease cost Rottmann $5,700 per year.   Like John Melchers, he opened a saloon.

The upper floors, accessed on Mercer Street, were leased to manufacturers and wholesalers.  In 1890 the second floor was home to silk merchants John Lutz & Son; the third floor was leased to Herbert West's "tailor's trimmings" store; and Lapidus Brothers was on the fourth floor.  Owned by Abraham and Hyman Lapidus, the firm manufactured pocketbooks.

Herbert West had only been in the building for a year (he had moved his business from No. 814 Broadway in 1889) when he suffered about $1,000 in damage to his stock.  On March 22, 1890 Policeman Michael Savage was walking by the Mercer Street doorway when he noticed water flowing out from beneath it.

He propped a ladder against the fire escape, then climbed upwards, peering into the windows until he found the source of the problem.  Someone had left a faucet running all night in the Lapidus Brothers factory.  The water "had flooded the greater part of Herbert West's store," reported The Sun the following day.

Luckily for the other merchants, after ruining West's stock, the water flowed down the stairs instead of pouring through the ceilings below.  The Sun said no harm was done to John Lutz & Son's silks and satins, "or to the frescoing in George Rottmann's saloon on the ground floor."

Herbert West knew where to point blame for the negligence.  He told a reporter "I shall be getting my bill for Mr. Lapidus ready by and by."

Lutz & Son was still doing business here as late as 1908.  They were joined by leather merchant Harris Weisbaum around that time.  Weisbaum's declaration of bankruptcy in 1912 would seem to most to have been the worst of his problems.  It was only the beginning.

On November 21 he was convicted of fraud after it was discovered he had hidden $3,100 worth of merchandise from auditors.  Judge Mayer "ordered the bankrupt to be kept in prison until he turned over to the creditors $3,100, the value of merchandise which Wiesbaum secreted from [them]," according to the New-York Tribune on November 21.

The creditors' attorney told reporters that "this was the beginning of a movement on the part of wholesale leather dealers to rid the trade of fraudulent bankrupts."

Much less controversial was tenant McMann & Taylor, which was here at least until 1918.  Dealers in plumbing apparatus, specifically pipes and fittings, the firm had been in business since 1862, starting out as Norris, King & McMann.

The employees of many manufacturers at the time formed their own athletic teams for after-work relaxation.  McMann & Taylor's employees formed a bowling team to participate in the New York Supply Trade Bowling League.  They were apparently better at selling plumbing supplies than in bowling.  In 1906 Sanitary and Heating Age reported on its losses to two other teams on January 9.

By 1920 the Mercer Lunch Co. ran its luncheonette in the space once occupied by George Rottmann's saloon.  Among the tenants upstairs were the American Christmas Tree Outfit Co., and the Star White Goods Mfg. Co.

James S. Bearns had been married to the former Ella Louse Darlington.  Following his death the Grand Street property passed through the family until Ella's estate sold it in June 1943.  The New York Times remarked "this was the second conveyance of the property in 113 years."  At the time the property was assessed at $16,000 (in the neighborhood of $220,000 today).

The new owners, J. Kalfus Co., commissioned architect Herman Wolff to update the old structure.  The $4,000 in improvements, the plans for which were filed in August 1950, were to include "store, offices and storage."

By the third quarter of the 20th century the Soho neighborhood around No. 104 Grand Street was experiencing a rebirth.  Old factories and warehouses were converted to art galleries and residential spaces.  In 1997 Mimi Sheraton of The New York Times remarked "Although it lacks immigrant fervor, this segment of Grand Street is home to strivers of another kind, those with dreams and aspirations in the creative arts: painting, sculpture, fashion, designs in graphics and home accessories, and cookery.

A 1975 renovation at No. 104 Grand Street resulted in "joint living-work quarters for artists" on the upper floors.  By the time of Sheraton's article, George Rottmann's former saloon was home to Cucina Della Nonna; a restaurant whose menu was inspired by Italian grandmothers.

Today Marissa Webb's stylish women's apparel and accessories boutique is in the ground floor behind vast show windows which replace George Rottman's saloon front, long ago erased.  Otherwise, Julius Kastner's small, eye-catching 1884 structure survives little changed; a surprising presence among Grand Street's expansive cast iron and stone-faced loft buildings.

photographs by the author

Hats, Suits and Make-up--No. 430 Broome Street

An 1894 make-over of the two Federal-style buildings resulted in a handsome up-to-date structure.

By 1836 the brick house at No. 430 Broome Street, at the corner of Crosby, was being used for both residential and business purposes.  Jesse Browne, who dealt in “pencilcases,” listed the address as both his home and office.  Also living here was Charles Lowther, whose coal business was located at No. 402 Washington Street.  The cohabitation was easily explained by Lowther’s marriage to Browne’s daughter.

A year later Jesse Browne had moved his business to No. 68 Spring Street, while still residing in the Broome Street house.  By 1841 Dr. James H. Rogers had opened his medical office in the building and would remain here at least into 1843.

In the meantime the esteemed academician Robert H. Brownne lived in the 4-story brick house directly behind No. 430, at No. 39 Crosby Street.   The scholarly Brownne was the son of the prominent shipbuilder, head of the firm Brownne & Bell, which constructed Robert Fulton’s Clermont.  In 1833 Robert Brownne was elected a member of the New York Lyceum of Natural History and four years later became its Recording Secretary.  He was recognized as an expert in mineralogy, bibliography, numismatics and conchology.   Described by the Bulletin of the Torrey Botanical Club, “modest and unassuming in manner, with solid virtue and Christian grace,” he would eventually take the positions of librarian for sugar magnate Robert L. Stuart’s private library and Curator of the Mercantile Library Association of the City of New York.

One might assume the Jesse Browne and Robert Brownne were related, despite the additional “n” in Robert’s surname.  As a matter of fact, Brownne’s father’s name was variously spelled as “Brown,” “Browne” and “Brownne.”  The connection is strengthened by the fact that when Robert H. Brownne left No. 39 Crosby Street, the house was owned by Jesse Browne.

On May 1, 1846 Dr. Francis took over the office in No. 430 Broome Street where John H. Rogers had been practicing.  In announcing the move, Dr. Francis directed patients to the “first house, second block East of Broadway.”

By 1852 No. 430 Broome was being used exclusively for business purposes.  Jesse Browne had moved to No. 7 Warren Place and that year William H. Underhill was running his “Wholesale and Family Store” from the first floor.  He hired Costar’s Vermin and Insect Exterminator to rid his shop of pests.  Although Underhill marketed his wares innocently enough, an advertisement in The New York Times on October 2, 1852 suggested it was simply a liquor store.

“To Families, Invalids, &c.—Old Wines, Brandies, London and Dublin Porter and Brown Stout, Scotch and East India Pale Ale, &c, of superior qualities, recommended by the faculty for medical uses, for sale in bottles or on draught, in quantities to suit purchasers, at lower cash prices.”

Browne had converted the upper floors of the houses and apparently joined them internally.  A large meeting room was accessed through the Crosby Street entrance.  On March 11, 1852 The Third Manhattan Building Association announced an upcoming public meeting “at the large room No. 430 Broome-st., corner of Crosby and Broome sts, (entrance on Crosby)” for the “reception of new members.”  The Association said in an announcement in The Times, “This is the first public meeting ever held in this Hall; it is large, and will seat six hundred people, with new and comfortable seats.”

The inclusion of the large meeting hall in the building was explained a month later when the Association mentioned another upcoming meeting to be “held at Masonic Temple, No. 430 Broome-st.”

The present of Mason Hall in the combined buildings was no doubt the impetus for Macoy & Sickels’ moving in.  The firm published Masonic books and pamphlets, printed Masonic diplomas and stationery, and manufactured “regalia, jewels, swords, seals, etc.”  It also operated the “Universal Masonic Emporium.”  In announcing its move to No. 430 Broome in 1860, the firm promised that here “may be found, on hand, or made to order, every article necessary for the working of lodges, chapters, councils, consistories, commanderies, etc., belonging to the Masonic, Odd Fellows, and other Civic Societies.”

Among the publications Macoy & Sickels put out that year were The Book of Symbols; Illustraing the Ritual of Ancient Craft Masonry; Macoy’s Freemason’s Monitor; and The Signet of King Solomon; or the Templar’s Daughter.     Daniel Sickels held the position of Grand Secretary General of Supreme Council 33° and Robert Macoy was an “honorary member.”

In 1866, when the publishers released The General Ahiman Rezon and Freemason’s Guide, the Voice of Masonry and Tidings from the Craft described it as an “elegant volume” and “a genuine addition to the Masonic ritual-literature of the day…It is elegantly printed, as everything is that emanates from Macoy & Sickels.  As a fronticepiece, there is given a Tracing-board of the 18^th Century, reproduced from one of Dr. Oliver’s publications.”

By now the area was filled with publishers.  On May 11 1866 The New York Times listed several of the nearby firms, including Hurd & Houghton, and F. J. Huntington & Son, both at No. 459 Broome Street; J. W. Bouton at No. 416 Broome Street; Routledge & Sons also at No. 416; Doolady’s at No. 448; Dick & Fitzgerald, “publishers of light literature,” at No. 456; and W. A. Townsend who had just relocated to No. 434 Broome, among many others.

Included in the list was Schermerhorn, Bancroft & Co., “who are also large publishers of school-books, and the managers of an educational agency,” who moved into No. 430 Broome that year.  J. W. Schermerhorn was an indefatigable entrepreneur.  As The Times pointed out, in addition to the publishing firm, he ran the American Institute here.  It acted as a sort of employment agency for instructors and a information source for parents.  Schermerhorn laid out the Institute’s exhaustive list of services in a New-York Tribune advertisement on June 27, 1868:

Aids all who seek well-qualified Teachers;

Represents Teachers who desire positions;

Gives parents information of good Schools;

Sells, rents and exchanges School properties.

Teachers who want positions for Autumn should apply now.  Teachers of Classics, professors of music, Ladies for Piano and vocal music, and French ladies are in demand.  Wanted specially a Baptist Professor of Natural Sciences for a College; superior lady vocalist for first-class Seminary on Hudson; a French lady for Georgia.  All Teachers should have Application Form”

A single page of The American Naturalist published that year listed three advertisements by Schermerhorn.  One hawked Hall’s Great Geological Chart, six-and-a-half feet by five feet “finely engraved and superbly colored.”  Below it was an offering of The New American School Desk and Settee, “constructed on ‘physiological principles” and manufactured by J. W. Schermerhorn & Co.  The ad promised “by far the best Desk ever made.”  The remainder of the page was taken up by an advertisement for Schermerhorn’s American Educational Monthly “devoted to popular instruction and literature.”

Schermerhorn also offered advice on mental and social culture.  The American Naturalist, 1868 (copyright expired)

Jesse Brown died in 1870 and the properties were conveyed by George Y. Browne to Jesse Browne, Jr.  Within the decade the millinery and garment industries would engulf the area, pushing the publishing firms further north.   In 1880 M. Gross was manufacturing muffs in No. 430 Broome Street.  Business was successful enough that year that he advertised for “50 good round and flat muff finishers.”

Also in the building was Meyer Norden, a clothing manufacturer.  While many garment shops worked their employees on Saturdays, Norden’s business was closed.  On August 22, 1882 The New York Times explained that Norden “is a Hebrew, and his place is kept closed on Saturday.”  Burglars took advantage of the fact and on Saturday, August 19 they “forced open the door leading from the hallway of the building into the floor occupied by Mr. Norden and carried off pieces of cloth, silk, and velvet valued at $250.”  The worth of the bolts would be close to $6,000 today.

The newspaper was as shocked by the audacity of the crooks to pull off the job in daylight, as they were by the inaction of witnesses.  “They used a light wagon for carrying off the goods, and although they were seen carrying the pieces of cloth down the stairs to the street, no one interfered with them.”

M. Gross was still here in 1883 when he placed an advertisement in The Sun for “Experienced hands of both sexes on fur-lined garments.”   Milliners,too, would rent space in the building, including Rosenberg & Krause who needed “finishers on fancy caps; also cloth caps” in September 1888. 

The retail space was home to Denis D. Shea’s clothing store by 1893.  The sharp-eyed Shea was too quick for two would-be thieves on May 29 that year.  That afternoon a peddler, Frank Raymond, entered the store with salesman John Williams.  Williams said he wanted to look at pants and after choosing a pair, went into the changing closet to try them on.

While Shea’s back was turned, Raymond slipped a $25 overcoat to Williams.  Inside the changing room, Williams wrapped the coat around his body, then buttoned up his clothes.  Coming out, he told Denis Shea that he had changed his mind about the pants.

The proprietor was too sharp to be fooled by the ploy.  The Evening World reported “Shea thought his customer had grown very corpulent in a few minutes and he called in Detective Scully, of the Tenth Precinct, who took the overcoat from Williams.”

The two men were held on $500 bail awaiting trial.

The following year Jesse Browne, Jr. hired architect Julius Kastner to remodel and update the two aged structures.   Kastner was busy designing manufacturing and warehouse buildings throughout the city.  For his Broome Street make-over he splashed a Renaissance Revival canvas liberally with trendy Queen Anne elements.

The Broome Street storefront was supported by fluted cast iron columns.  The red brick façade featured regimented rows of openings ornamented by Renaissance-inspired pediments and hoods.  But Queen Anne curliques and emblems updated the Broome Street elevation, including a decorative corner cartouche which announced the construction date.   At the corner of the bracketed cornice an elaborate base, supported by a twisted column, most likely upheld a conical cap.

A decorative cartouche with the renovation date is surrounded by palm fronds, ribbons and leaves.

The completed building continued to attract garment manufacturers.  Russian-born brothers Louis and Moris Amdur moved their firm “Amdur Brothers” in around the turn of the century.  

In October 1903, following the pogrom of April 19 that killed around 49 Russian Jews and injured 500 others, rumors spread to the United States that approximately 300 Jews had been massacred at Mohilev-on-Dneiper—the Amdur’s home town.  They hastily cabled their father who still lived there.

To their great relief, they received a one-word telegram in reply, saying “blogopoluzno.”  Loosely translated it said “All is well.”

Another pair of brothers, Adolph and Samuel Ullman would be in the building by 1908 with their Ullman Brothers clothing manufacturing firm. 

While Jesse Browne, Jr. retained possession of the property, he turned management of the building over to a succession of leasers.   In 1884 he had leased it to Louis Corn for a term of 10 years.  The initial rent of $2,750 a year rose to $3,000 by the end of the lease.   In 1910 he gave another 10-year lease to Joseph J. Cullen at $3,750 per year.  Something happened, however, and a year later Diedrich Brand signed a lease on the building for the same amount—about $8,000 a month in today’s dollars.

For now No. 430 Broome Street continued to house garment firms.  In 1913 20-year old Robert Berger would come to regret stealing six silk dresses from the building.  He was convicted on May 30 for petty larceny, his second such offense.  He was incarcerated in the City Reformatory.

The Browne family finally sold No. 430 Broome Street in April 1920.  The buyer, newspapers said, “will occupy most of the building.”  In reporting the sale the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide noted “It is the first time the property has changed hands in 84 years.”

The garment and millinery districts were steadily moving out of the area.  S. Wanders & Sons Chemical Co. had been in the building at the time of the sale, but moved out in 1921.  The building became home to the Stein Cosmetics firm, “specializing in [the] theatrical trade.”  The make-up firm would remain here for decades, into the 1960s.

The Soho neighborhood suffered neglect during much of the 20^th century; but by 1988 when Lulu’s restaurant opened, the area was seeing a rebirth.  Lulu’s was termed by one magazine an “old fashioned Italian restaurant.” 

The late-Victorian storefront survives little-changed.

The street level space had already seen a succession of restaurants, beginning in 1958.  It continued in 1991 when Onda opened, an Italian-Asian restaurant which closed only a year later.  It was followed by Cala di Volpe, a Sardinian restaurant, in 1995, and Sweet Ophelia’s in 1996.  Owned by sometimes-opera singer Alexander Smalls, it featured “low country” Carolina fare.   In 2008 L’Orange Bleue Punters, offering French-Moroccan food, was here; and in 2014 it was home to Chicane, which served Meditteranean fare “rooted in the Riviera.”

There was no doubt a conical cap above the decorator corner support.

In the meantime the upper floors, once factory space for hat and suit manufacturers, were converted for residential use--one “joint living work quarter” per floor.   And outside, Kastner’s eye-catching design holds its own after more than a century.

photographs by the author