The P. F. Collier & Co. Building - 416-424 West 13th Street

Collier's logo, executed in stone features a winged globe topped by a flaming torch--the symbol of enlightenment and education.  On either side are a quill pen and a fountain pen, the tools of writers.

In 1819 John Jacob Astor I acquired an enormous parcel of land on the west side of Manhattan along the Hudson River.  It and the surrounding neighborhood first saw real development following the Civil War; and by the 1880's the neighborhood that is today known as the Meat Packing District was a hive of activity.  The Astor family partitioned its real estate holdings here in 1878, with William Backhouse Astor, Jr.  receiving the section that included Little West 12th and West 13th Streets between Washington Street and Ninth Avenue.  Upon his death in 1892 the property passed to his son, John Jacob Astor IV.

At the turn of the century the neighborhood was filled with factories and warehouses that took advantage of the riverfront location.  And so it may have come as a surprise to many who read in the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide on July 21, 1900 that Astor would "build for P. F. Collier & Son, the publishers...a 3-sty building fronting on 13th and Little West 12th st."

Born in Myshall, Ireland on December 12, 1849, Peter Fenelon Collier saved his money as a schoolbook salesman and with $300 purchased the printing plates to Father Burke's Lectures.  Published in 1872, its first year's sales hit $90,000--more than $1.9 million today.  It set him on the road to founding the P. F. Collier publishing firm, which focused mostly on religious books for Roman Catholic readers.

In April 1888 he added periodicals to the blend with Collier's Once a Week.  By the time negotiations were underway for a new headquarters on West 13th Street, the name of the magazine was Collier's Weekly: An Illustrated Journal and it was one of the most popular weekly publications in the country.

And so why Peter Collier chose this industrial location, far from any other publishers, is puzzling.  But despite the industrial neighborhood, Astor sought out the esteemed architectural firm of Trowbridge & Livingston to design the sprawling complex which would house the firm's offices, printing plant, bindery and shipping facilities.  (The firm would work for him four years later designing the lavish neo-Baroque St. Regis Hotel on Fifth Avenue.)

Construction proceeded with lightning speed.  On March 30, 1901 the Record & Guide reported "The contract was received February 1st and the building will be ready for occupancy August 1st.  Another quick job."  

Trowbridge & Livingston created a neo-Classical style structure of orange-beige brick, cast iron and limestone of three tall stories--its two facades being mirror images.  Rusticated stone on either end united the design.  Between, full-height brick piers were given simple stone capitals, creating, in fact, the decorative effect of pilasters.  Cast iron infill made large expanses of glass possible, filling the workrooms inside with natural light.

The Little West 12th Street facade was designed as a mirror image of the West 13th Street side.  If the entrance portico was ever executed, it has been lost.  Real Estate Record & Guide March 30, 1901 (copyright expired)

Astor paid for the $400,000 P. F. Collier & Co. building "under a contract of lease."   The firm had been named P. F. Collier & Son in 1898 after Robert J. Collier joined the firm.  The scale of its business was evidenced when the 35,000 square-foot building soon proved inadequate.  In May 1904 the firm leased the seven-story Abingdon Warehousing Co. building directly across the street, at No. 419 West 13th Street, "for a storage warehouse."

Along with its popular articles and fiction stories, Collier's Weekly was a pioneer in investigative journalism.  It earned a reputation as a force in social reform, unafraid to name names.  It was a practice not looked on favorably by those whose names appeared in print.

One of those was Colonel William D'Alton Mann, editor of Town Topics.  The newspaper printed scurrilous stories of society figures, quite often not true.  To prevent their being published, millionaires would pay Mann exorbitant bribes.  If the articles did get published, a respectable person's reputation could be ruined.

Alice Roosevelt was scandalized by Town Topics in 1904.  An article said she wore “costly lingerie” for the “edification of men” and was guilty of “indulging freely in stimulants.”  The article went on to say that rumors around Newport suggested she and a “certain multi-millionaire” engaged in “certain doings that gentle people are not supposed to discuss.”

Collier's Weekly commissioned well-known artists like Frederick Remington who created this 1905 cover.

In an editorial article Robert J. Collier vehemently attacked Mann’s sleazy operations and exposed his underhanded operation.  And in a separate Collier's Weekly article on August 5, 1905, editor Norman Hapgood went up against Mann's partner, Joseph M. Deuel, who happened to also be a magistrate in the Court of Special Sessions.

The Morning Telegraph called the Hapgood's article, entitled "Public Conscience," a "scathing indictment of Justice Deuel, who was specifically charged with violating his oath of office in engaging in business while in his magisterial position." In addition, according to The Evening Post, Deuel was accused of "being part owner and editor of a paper which subsisted on scandal."  The judge asserted that the article had "exposed him to hatred, contempt and obloquy." 

Both men fought back.  On August 19, 1905 Robert J. Collier was served with two libel suits of $100,000 each filed by Mann; and on September 13 Joseph Deuel had Hapgood arrested in his office in the Collier Building on a charge of criminal libel.  Both publishers pleaded not guilty.

The flaw in Mann's and Deuel's defenses was that everything that the Collier's articles said was true.  Collier and Hapgood both won their cases.

Peter F. Collier rubbed shoulders with Manhattan's wealthiest citizens.  He posed in his fox hunting garb for this cabinet card. photo by George Grantham Bain from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York  

Peter Fenelon Collier died on April 23, 1909.  The Irish immigrant had come a long way; The New York Times calling him "well known in society here and abroad."  He had been attending the annual horse show at the Riding Club when "death overtook him as he was descending the stairs to the street."  Robert Joseph Collier took over the operation of the firm

Labor problems between management and union workers were a constant issue for business owners.  But when 150 bookbinders walked off the job at P. F. Collier & Son on September 18, 1912, it was less about their problems with management then squabbling among themselves.  Earlier that year "a disagreement in the ranks of the International Brotherhood of Bookbinders" had resulted in a schism.  One group broke off to form the National Brotherhood of Bookbinders.  All the Collier workers defected to that group.

Perhaps unaware of the gravity of the situation, Assistant Superintendent of the bookbinding department, Floyd E. Wilder, hired three new employees--members of the International Brotherhood.   When they walked in, the others walked out.  Wilder seemed optimistic, however.  He told a reporter from The New York Press that he was "confident the warring factions will come together shortly and frame a peace pact."

At the time Jerome T. Caffrey had been a Collier employee for several years.  The 47-year old was a foreman who supervised 95 men.  The higher-end books produced in the plant required expensive materials--leather for the covers and gold leaf for edging the pages, for instance.  It was the gold leaf supplies that concerned Collier executives, because for five years there had been noticeable shortages.

As with any other day, on October 10, 1912 Jerome Caffrey was walking along West 13th Street on his way to work.  This day would be different, however.  Investigators had been secreted within the bindery to discern who was responsible for the shortages.  Before Caffrey reached the Collier building, he was arrested.  The Daily Standard Union reported his total take at $30,000 in gold leaf--around $785,000 in today's money.

In the first decades of the 20th century it was common for young boys to leave school in order to find work and earn money.  Often the additional income was necessary to keep impoverished families afloat.  Collier & Son addressed the issue in the spring of 1915 by proposing an in-house classroom so young employees could continue their education on off-hours.  On May 1 the Board of Education approved "the organization of a continuation class in the establishment of P. F. Collier & Son."  The teacher was to be paid $1 per hour.

In 1919 Crowell Publishing Company purchased Collier's Weekly.  The New-York Tribune reported on July 26 that "No change in the personnel of 'Collier's Weekly' are contemplated at present."  The article noted that the magazine currently had a circulation of 1 million.  The purchaser promised "Its editorial police will remain independent" and the magazine's name would not change.

But in 1924 Crowell relocated the printing facilities to Springfield, Ohio.  On May 27 The New York Times explained that the decision was partly because the West 13th Street building faced "prospective condemnation...for the extension of Gansevoort Market."  The firm also cited "the excessive postage involved in mailing from a seaboard city under wartime postal rates."  The article noted that "The editorial and business departments will remain in New York."


Then, in 1929, the P. F. Collier & Co. building was sold to the General Electric Company.  A year-long renovation resulted in factory, storage and office spaces throughout the three floors.  Simultaneously the firm erected an annex nearby at No. 414 West 13th Street. 

The Little West 12th Street facade.

World War II stretched the resources of the Maritime Commission Educational Unit in Washington D.C.  Therefore military trainees were provided on-site training in the field.  According to the 2014 book Braving the Wartime Seas, "Cadet-Midshipmen in advanced training also made numerous field trips in these early years to compensate for areas in which the Academy lacked expertise or equipment.  For example, in August and September 1942, groups of Cadets visited...General Electric's service shop on West Thirteenth street in Lower Manhattan."

General Electric remained in the building until 1964, when it was again renovated for a printing establishment on the first floor, a luggage factory on the second, and a clothing factory on the third.  But the renaissance of the Gansevoort Market and Meat Packing Districts was on the horizon--sparked by the opening of High Line Park.

In 2018 the Collier Building was transformed to a restaurant on the ground floor and offices and showrooms above.  Mostly unchanged, Trowbridge & Livingston's dignified publishing house looks as out of place today as it did in 1901.

photographs by the author

The New York Biscuit Stables -- Nos. 439-445 West 14th Street

Despite his storming off to England with his family in 1891--the result of a heated feud with his aunt, Caroline Schermerhorn Astor and contentious business relations with his cousin, John Jacob Astor--William Waldorf Astor continued to conduct business in New York.  He had inherited a significant amount of property on the west side dock area, and on June 14, 1892 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported his intentions to erect a brick stable building on West 14th Street for the New York Biscuit Company.

Astor commissioned Thomas R. Jackson to design the stable.  By now Jackson was prominent among the city's architects.  Born in England, he had worked in the offices of Richard Upjohn and was one of the designers of the rebuilt Trinity Church in 1839. 

For this project he turned to the Romanesque Revival style.  Jackson avoided the chunky medieval columns and massive rough-cut stone arches popularized by Henry Hobson Richardson, relying instead on refined symmetry, shallow recesses and two three-story arches.  Restrained decoration, like the eyebrows and sprandrels of the arches and the complex corbels below the triangular pediment were executed in brick.

Even as his 14th Street building was being constructed, Astor attempted a bizarre final break with New York City.  In the summer of 1892 newspapers received word that he had died from a sudden attack of pneumonia.  Before long, however, his supposed death was exposed as a ruse to disappear from public view and William Astor was widely derided in the press.

The stable was completed early in 1893.  Astor had put contractor Hugh Getty in charge of construction  On April 22, 1893, the Record & Guide said he had "an excellent record for first-class work" and noted "He has just completed the stables for the New York Biscuit Co., 14th to 15th streets and 10th avenue."

The New York Biscuit Co. used the stable to house its fleet of drays and teams of horses.  The same year that the firm moved in, King's Handbook of New York City called it "by far the greatest producer in the world of biscuits, or crackers."  The well-chosen site near to the docks and railroads enabled efficient shipping.  King's Handbook said "It supplies its widespread trade by means of teams, railroads and vessels; its products reach all civilized parts of the world."

The bakery continued to grow by merging with its greatest rival, the American Biscuit Co, in 1898.  That firm was nationally-known for its brand names Premium Saltine and Fig Newton.  Brilliant national marketing and careful introduction of new products--like Uneeda Biscuit crackers--advanced its massive success.

In 1919 National Biscuit began buying up the many properties in the area which it had been leasing from the Astor estate for so long.  By January 20, 1920 it had not only purchased what was now described as the "three-story garage" on West 14th Street, but the entire square blocks from 15th to 16th Streets from Ninth to Tenth, and Tenth to Eleventh Avenues.  The Real Estate Record & Guide placed the "total investment by the Biscuit Company in this location of about $10,000,000."

The gritty neighborhood of warehouses, meatpacking factories and riverfront docks was the haunt of gangsters in the 1920s and '30s.  On the night of January 29, 1937 Patrolmen Gerald Brandy and Charles Krouche were patrolling on West Street when they heard a gunshot.  Seeing a large black sedan speeding along Washington Street, they pursued it in their radio car.

The auto collided with a taxi, then veered onto the sidewalk and crashed into the National Biscuit garage.  The left rear door flew open and a body rolled out onto the pavement.

The unidentified man had been shot through the heart.  A 29-year old female passenger, Mary Higgins, was taken prisoner to St. Vincent's Hospital with a broken arm, and the diver, 30-year old longshoreman James Lavin was taken to the Charles Street police station.

Two days later detectives had identified the dead man as another longshoreman, 36-year old Ralph Clements.  His police record reflected 14 arrests and several terms in Sing Sing.  "He had been questioned in connection with the murder of the widow of Jack (Legs) Diamond three years ago in Brooklyn," noted The New York Times on January 31.

Both Clements and Lavin, who had met in prison, were described by police as "petty racketeers."  The Times reported "The police are trying to determine whether the two men had a dispute concerning their racketeering activities along the waterfront."

How "petty" the men's criminal careers were was debatable.  Lavin admitted he "had been sentenced to seven to fifteen years for killing a man in 1924; that he had escaped from Sing Sing; that he later had been arrested for robbery, and that he recently had been on parole."

In 1941 National Biscuit Co. became Nabisco.  By now it had added Oreo cookies and Animal Crackers to its extraordinarily successful list of products.  The firm moved its operations to New Jersey in 1958, selling the former stables to the Industry City Realty Co. that year.

For years the impressive brick structure was used as a warehouse for companies like Saks & Co.  As the Meatpacking District changed from warehouses and butchery firms to one of upscale shops and restaurants in the late 20th century, the building was purchased by Ceco Studios, LLC. in 1995.  Behind the handsomely-restored facade, Ceco Studios operates the High Line Stages, touted as Manhattan's two largest sound stages.

photographs by the author

The Little 1854 House at No. 639-1/2 Hudson St.

Development along Hudson Street—named for the nearby river rather than directly in honor of the explorer—was well underway when the three story building at No. 639-1/2 was completed in 1854.  The Greek Revival structure included a shop at street level and residential space for the storekeeper above.  The sills and lintels were, most likely, of brownstone; and a charming wooden cornice upheld by narrow brackets with dripping acorns completed the simple design.

It appears that the upper floors were soon rented to multiple residents.  On August 19, 1863 John Welsh was inducted into the Union Army; and on March 17, 1865 the same fate befell tenant J. White.

In 1868 or ‘69 Joseph G. Orr rented the entire building from the Mayer family and opened his variety and confectionery store here.  He and his family lived upstairs with his tenants.  His ten-year lease cost him $1,200 per year, a little over $1,700 a month in 2016.

When Orr’s lease ran out he had a decision to make.   The Manhattan Railway Company had recently extended its elevated railroad northward along Greenwich Street, just behind No. 639-1/2 Hudson Street.   Property values on Hudson Street declined and Orr was faced with the difficulty of renting his upstairs rooms with the accompanying rumble and smoke from the trains.

Joseph Orr's negotiations resulted in his rent being reduced to $1,050 in 1879.  He refused to sign a lease, instead entering into a year-to-year arrangement.  As it turned out, Joseph Orr would stay on for decades, renting rooms and running his variety and candy store.

The Orr family was pulled into a murder mystery on New Year’s Day 1888.  Orr’s son, also named Joseph, worked as a shipping clerk at the C. A. Schmidt & Co. upholstery store on West 14^th Street.  A co-worker, William J. Hanna appeared at the Orr apartment around 7:30 on Monday, January 1 on his round of New Year’s calls.  Hanna’s young wife was pregnant and stayed home at No. 439 West 22^nd Street.

Around 8:00 Hanna left the Orr residence, telling Joseph that he was off to James Lynch’s saloon at MacDougal and West Third Street.  He was found by Louis Pulver at 10:00 lying on the sidewalk in front of C. Overbaugh’s saloon at Greenwich Avenue and 11^th Street.  Pulver and the saloonkeeper helped him into the bar.  They considered sending him to St. Vincent’s Hospital, but according to witnesses later, Hanna “recovered and started to go home.”

Hanna never made it home.   The 31-year old was found later in even worse shape.  Around 11:00 Mrs. Hanna answered the door bell to find, according to The Sun, “two rough but honest-looking men supporting her husband, who was covered with blood and mud, and weak in knees and voice.”

“This is my wife,” Hanna muttered.

“I am sorry for you, madam” said one of the men, noting her obvious pregnancy.

Throughout the night Hanna awakened briefly, each time speaking of an assault.  “One of the men stabbed me with a penknife,” he said once.  And “He struck me with a wrench, but he did not get my watch,” he mumbled another time.

Around 3:00 a.m. his wife sent for a doctor and her father-in-law.  The physician diagnosed a fractured skull.  “He could do nothing but wait for death, which came toward noon yesterday,” reported The Sun on January 4.   Detectives interviewed the Orr family, who could give little help.  The New York Times wrote “It is thought that Hanna, while drunk, ran foul of some ruffians and was beaten by them, but not robbed, as his gold watch and a small amount of money were still in his possession when he returned home.

In February 1891 the first issue of the New York Recorder was published.  The publishers initiated a marketing gimmick to boost sales.  The Newsman explained in April that the “popular ‘Newsdealers Contest’ was inaugurated, towards which the proprietors of the paper donated the sum of Fourteen Thousand Dollars to be distributed among the 1,600 newsdealers selling the largest number of Recorders during the four weeks from February 18^th to March 17^th, inclusive.”

Joseph G. Orr did not win the first prize of $500; but his sales of 1,840 issues resulted in his receiving $25—about $675 in 2016 dollars.

Elizabeth Mayer’s will left No. 639-1/2 Hudson Street to her son, John F. Mayer.  Things got tangled and ugly when John died first.  His wife, Annie F. Mayer, was three months pregnant at the time.  Following Margaretha Mayer's birth, Elizabeth revised her will, leaving the Hudson Street property to the infant.  Elizabeth’s grandsons, Charles and John Jacob Flammer, were named administrators of the estate.  

Trouble first started on June 30, 1896 when Annie went to court to revoke the Flammer brothers’ administration.  Court papers noted “Annie F. Mayer produced in court a child who was claimed to be, and which was then proven to be, a child born to her a few months after the death of John F. Mayer.”

Annie described her daughter “as having been from its birth below the normal size, sickly and puny.”  She informed the court that Margaretha was 11 months old.  

A year later, having successfully removed the Flammers from involvement in the property, Annie tried to get rid of Joseph C. Orr.  The case “for ejectment” and “to recover mense profits” was put on the Brooklyn docket, where Annie lived.

Before the case came to court, Margaretha (the legal owner of the Hudson Street property) died.  Annie quickly replaced the dead infant with another.  When Annie died at the home of her sister, Maggie Smith on July 18, 1899, court papers said “There was living with her, at the time of her death, a child whom she represented to be the said Margaretha Mayer and whom she called Margaretha Pearl Mayer.”

But a witness later testified “I afterwards learned that the said Margaretha Mayer had died in July, 1896, and that the said Annie F. Mayer had procured a waif from the Foundling Asylum…to take the place of her said deceased child…suppressing the fact of its death.”

The Flammer brothers leaped into action.  They sued to overturn Elizabeth’s will, claiming that not only was Margaretha dead; but that Annie had never been legally married to John F. Mayer.  Maggie Smith, the guardian of the new Margaretha, then sued the Flammers on July 17, 1901.  Caught in the middle of the confusing litigation was Joseph C. Orr.  Both the Flammers and Maggie Smith wanted him out.

Before that happened No. 639-1/2 Hudson Street was sold to Thomas E. Stevens on June 19, 1902 for $7,550.    The elderly Joseph C. Orr was still running his store and renting the rooms in 1907 when Stevens now sued him for the rental profits.  It seems to have been the last straw for the man who had sold candy and newspapers here for four decades.  No listings for Joseph C. Orr at the address appear after 1907.

The little brick building continued to house a shop and apartments.  In 1940 the Loggola family lived here.  John, who was 50, and his wife, Mary, 43, were both born in Italy.  John made his living as a porter.  With them in the apartment was their 24-year old son, Bernard, who worked as an auto mechanic, 16-year old James and daughter Anna, who was 14.

In 1947 the building received a make-over of sorts.  The brownstone lintels and sills were replaced with brick and a new storefront installed.  By 2008 Joseph C. Orr’s variety store was the home of the Elizabeth Charles store.  It remained here until 2013.  The quaint little building that never earned its own address is a picturesque presence on busy Hudson Street, highlighted by the miraculously surviving wooden cornice.

photographs by the author

The 1846 House at No. 44 Ninth Avenue

No. 44, on the corner, anchored the row of houses and stores -- photo Nicolas Lemery Nantel / salokin.com

In the 1840s elegant brick or brownstone-faced townhouses would begin lining 14^th Street as the city inched ever northward.  But the homes erected on the blocks closer to the North River (later renamed the Hudson) would be less refined; built instead for working-class or merchant families.

In 1845 Henry Josephus Sanford began construction on a string of six Greek Revival homes.  Stretching northward from the northeast corner of 14^th Street and Ninth Avenue, they would rise three stories with dormered attics.  Completed a year later, they featured handsome pedimented brownstone lintels and interesting box cornices.  Most likely each of the homes had a storefront at street level.

The tall windows were slightly recessed below pedimented brownstone lintels - photo Nicolas Lemery Nantel / salokin.com

The corner house, No. 44 Ninth Avenue, was occupied by Dr. Richard S. Seaman in the 1850s.  With him in the house were his wife and son; along with three boarders.  Two of these were attorneys, William H. Wiland and William I. Jones, and the other was a druggist, Ephraim Folsom.  It is possible the Folsom ran his pharmacy from the ground floor.

The commercial entrance was around the corner at No. 357 14^th Street.  It would be the beginning of a long medical and pharmaceutical tradition for the building.   In 1865 Dr. Levi Jewett was living down the block at No. 233 West 14^th Street.  He returned to New York following service as assistant surgeon with the Union Army’s 14^th Regiment.  In 1866 he would move into No. 44 Ninth Avenue.

Jewett established his medical practice and drugstore in the building.  Sharing the upstairs with the Jewetts was the family of William H. Stiles, a Deputy Sheriff.  The well-respected doctor was a favorite when he campaigned for the position of Coroner in 1879.  The New-York Tribune noted “Dr. Levi Jewett, one of the Republic candidates for Coroner, is earnestly supported for that office by his political associates.”

A group of eminent physicians signed a petition of support that read in part “His medical education, his services as Surgeon in the Union Army and in the Government hospitals, and his experience as a practitioner in this city, qualify him for the position.”

Jewett’s brother, Charles, was also a physician and drugstore owner, operating his business a block away at No. 91 Eighth Avenue. 

It appears that Levi Jewett lost the election and perhaps that was what prompted him to leave the medical field.  He moved in 1882 to Middle Haddam, Connecticut where he became “engaged in agricultural pursuits.”

Marcus F. Bender had arrived in New York City while still a boy and became a junior clerk for Charles H. Bell, whose drugstore was at the corner of Charles and Bleecker Streets.  While working under Bell he learned the pharmacy business and eventually was licensed by the New York State Board of Pharmacy.  When Levi Jewett’s drugstore became available, Bender purchased it.  Before long he also purchased Charles Levi’s drugstore; but, as recorded in the American Druggist and Pharmaceutical Record “Five years later Mr. Bender sold this store to its present owner, George N. Syms, and devoted all his time to the Fourteenth street store.”  

Bender’s drugstore would be a familiar landmark on the corner for a quarter of a century.  Well-like and respected, he was a member of several clubs and societies and was one of the founders of the Interstate Retail Druggists’ League.

Marcus Bender owned the business, but still leased the property from the Henry Josephus Sanford Estate.  In 1887 the estate remodeled the drugstore storefront, replacing the granite corner post with a cast iron column.  Updated show windows were installed at the same time.

Bender became marginally involved in a questionable suicide in the summer of 1893.  Mrs. George Davis lived on West 17^th Street and took a stateroom on the steamer Saratoga that left New York City for Troy, New York on June 20.  That night her cape and hat were found on the aft deck and the woman was nowhere to be found.

The New York Times reported that she “is supposed to have committed suicide by jumping overboard” however questions were raised by a bottle found in her stateroom.  “Investigation of the stateroom showed a bottle partly full of chloroform, but labeled alcohol and bearing the stamp of M. F. Benders, 357 West Fourteenth Street, New-York.”  Why a gentlewoman would be traveling with chloroform—mislabeled—was puzzling.

In 1894 The Pharmaceutical Era praised Bender’s above-board reputation, saying “he is a bad man for smugglers to run up against.  He believes in buying goods legitimately.”  One such crook found that out on September 6, 1894 when the well-dressed young man walked into the store and offered to sell Bender a pound of phenacetine and suphonal for $10 each.

Because the prices were substantially below market value Bender immediately suspected the chemicals were smuggled.  Thinking quickly, he told the man that he was interested in both articles, but he did not have the ready cash.  If he would just return at 2:00 he would have the funds to buy the goods.

As soon as the man left the store, Bender telephoned W. H. Schieffelin & Co., the American agents for the manufacturers of the chemicals.  The firm sent a representative along with two detectives.  Promptly at 2:00 the man reentered the store and was arrested.

Around this time Marcus Bender inherited “a modest fortune” from relatives in Syracuse prompting the American Druggist and Pharmaceutical Record deemed him “comparatively wealthy.” 

Bender’s unblemished reputation was put to the test in 1896 through the actions of his clerk, William Chamberlain.  The man became bitter when a routine customer, 75-year old James Anderson, complained to Bender that Chamberlain was “inattentive to business.” 

The clerk attempted to exact revenge on the elderly man when he came to the drugstore in October 1896.  Anderson asked for 10 cents worth of quinine powder.  Chamberlain filled his order and took his dime.  The aged Anderson returned to his home at No. 690 Hudson Street and on the night of October 24 took the full dose.  What he did not realize was that Chamberlain had given him more than ten times the amount he had asked for.

The Druggists Circular and Chemical Gazette reported that Anderson “took 120 grains of quinine in one dose and came near dying.”  Having recovered, the old man sued Marcus Bender for $250 for “the pain he suffered and the time he lost by what he says was Mr. Bender’s clerk’s fault,” said the Gazette.

The entrance to the Ninth Avenue Elevated Train was on the corner.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library

On Monday January 28, 1907 Marcus F. Bender died suddenly at his home at No. 123 West 95^th Street at the age of 58.  Bender’s son, Leach H. Bender, was a doctor; but the drugstore was left to his widow and daughter.  The American Druggist and Pharmaceutical Record noted that it would “be conducted by his executors in the interest of his widow and daughter, for whom he has otherwise provided comfortably.”

On May 5, 1941 none of the original dormers had been altered yet.  Interestingly, there is only one on the 14th Street side.  photographer unknown.  From the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYW54LH75&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Throughout the 20^th century the corner building would be home to a variety of businesses as the neighborhood became known as the Meat Packing District.  For three decades from 1945 to 1975 it was the Blue Star Food Shop and Luncheonette; the Old Country Kitchen Restaurant from 1980 to 1993; then Nick’s City Kitchen Restaurant until 2003.

Today the ground floor where Marcus Bender dispensed quinine and elixirs is home to The Diner, another restaurant in what is now a trendy upscale district of designer clothing stores, Google headquarters and a sleek Apple store.  But the picturesque row of 1846 houses survives as a reminder of a much different era along West 14^th Street.

Two of the original dormers along Ninth Avenue survive unaltered -- photo Nicolas Lemery Nantel / salokin.com