The Lost Seamen's Bank for Savings - 74 Wall Street

 

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

In 1850, architect and engineer Robert G. Hatfield was commissioned to design the Sun Building in Baltimore.  To cast its iron facade, he turned to New York City inventor and architect James Bogardus, who patented his process that same year.  

Hatfield's engineering expertise would be seen in his structural design of the Grand Central Depot trail shed.  While he was working on that project, Robert Hatfield was hired to design a headquarters for the Seamen's Bank for Savings at 74 and 76 Wall Street.  On June 24, 1870 he filed plans for a "five-story and basement cast-iron front bank building."

The next day, The New York Times reported, "The structure will be of brick with iron fronts...The main, or banking-room, will be 58 feet by 40, and 30 feet in height."  The article explained that the upper floors would be leased as offices.

The Seamen's Bank for Savings was completed in December 1871 at a cost of $350,000 (about $9 million in 2024), according to the Record & Guide.  Hatfield's Second Empire design included squat, free-standing Corinthian columns at the basement (or street) level.  Steps led to the main entrance within a Corinthian portico on top of which were sculptured figures of a Native American and a sailor holding a shield with the bank's logo.  The fifth floor took the form of a steep mansard pierced by elaborate dormers.

The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide called it, "the most striking and imposing object in that immediate neighborhood."  Inside, the double-height banking room had a "wide gallery running round the upper part," according to the Guide, under a vast glass dome.  The critic said the "solidity of construction" was to be expected of Hatfield, who was "universally recognized as among the foremost of our scientific and constructive architects."

"We wish we could speak as favorably of the exterior," said the article.  Hatfield's cast iron facade closely mimicked granite--too closely in the Record & Guide's opinion.

Indeed, so far in this case has the effort to imitate stone been carried, that in the seemingly large blocks of granite in the basement piers...they have actually imitated in iron the rusticated chisel-marks that are to be found on granite blocks!  This looks to us very much like caricaturing art.

The critic said the building's main fault was "of not boldly erecting an iron building as iron."

Seamen's Bank for Savings was founded on May 11, 1829 by a group of philanthropic New Yorkers with the purpose "to encourage thrift among sailors, stevedores, naval officers and officers of merchant ships," according to The New York Times.  Now, nearly half a century later, the superstitions of the seafaring depositors affected the building's address.  The New York Times explained decades later, on May 12, 1929:

When the present building was completed, the officers selected 76 Wall Street as the address of the new home for the bank.  Upon receipt of a letter from an "old salt" that 7 and 6 made 13, the officers changed the proposed address to 74 Wall Street.

Among the bank's long-term tenants were the offices of the American Seamen's Friend Society, which would remain for decades.  Other offices were leased mostly by attorneys and brokerage firms.

Broker Edward F. Hall's office was here in the summer of 1886 when he traveled to West Point to visit his nephew at the Military Academy.  Accompanying him was a friend, Mrs. Skerritt, and they took rooms at Craney's West Point Hotel.  On the night of July 13, 1886, Hall told Mrs. Skeritt that he would go swimming early in the morning and would meet her on the hotel piazza at 8:00 for breakfast.

When he did not show up, Mrs. Skeritt began asking around.  The head waiter remembered seeing him at around 6:30 that morning "as though going to the cadet bathing house," as reported by The Sun.  A search was made, but no trace of Hall could be found.  The quartermaster was notified and cadets and enlisted men were sent along the entire shore.  In the meantime, Hall's room was searched.  His valuables--wallet, watch and chain, and diamond pin--were there.  His clothes for the day were laid out on the bed.

Eventually, it was concluded that Hall had drowned, or "climbed up the mountain side to explore Crows' Nest or Storm King, and, meeting with a fall, had been so disabled as to be unable to move or shout for assistance."  As hope faded and a more intense search was being organized, Hall "made his appearance, walking southward, with a bath towel in his hand," oblivious to the turmoil he had caused.

The offices of W. Ropes & Co., commercial merchants, were here by 1889.  William Hall Ropes had been United States Consul at St. Petersburg, Russia, from 1850 to 1854.  Now W. Ropes & Co. was a major importer and exporter between the United States and Russia, as well as England.  Its St. Petersburg branch was "extensively engaged in the manufacture of products of Russian petroleum and also in the exportation of Russia Crash," according to New York 1894: Illustrated.    (Russia Crash was a handmade textile "made by peasants, in their homes.")

Mahlon B. Smith was a clerk with Seamen's Bank for Savings.  He was described by The Sun as "a highly respected citizen of Hackensack" and "an elderly man with a short cropped gray beard."  His daughter, Aimee, was the organist and Sunday school teacher at the Asbury Methodist Episcopal Church there.

On the morning of March 8, 1897, Aimee Smith took the ferry to New York City with the wife of the church's pastor.  They parted ways in the city, with Aimee intending to take a train to Morristown for a week.  She was to open a millinery store there with a Miss McVey.  It was the last anyone saw of Aimee Smith.

Later that morning, a Mr. and Mrs. Everett checked into the Hotel Victor on Third Avenue near 24th Street.  Shortly afterward, Everett went to the office of Dr. N. H. Lewis on West 23rd Street, imploring him to see his sick wife.  The Sun reported, "He learned that the young woman was not 'Everett's' wife and said he did not care to attend such a case."  Everett, however, "pleaded with him so hard" that the doctor relented.  He found the woman "in a very weak state," said her trouble was "due to excitement and worry," and told the proprietor to call an ambulance.  "Then it was that 'Everett' disappeared," reported The Sun.  The young woman died in Bellevue Hospital.

At 8:00 the following morning, Mahlon B. Smith appeared at the morgue.  The Sun said, "He was in great distress of mind, for he had little doubt of the result of his errand.  When the body was uncovered he said huskily, 'It is my daughter Aimee.'"

Despite acquaintances in Hackensack saying that Aimee Smith was "an innocent little thing, morbidly conscientious and exact in her devotions and church duties," it seems that she was the victim of a botched abortion.

As the Seamen's Bank for Savings approached its centennial in 1925, plans were laid for replacing its building.  Robert G. Hatfield's cast iron structure was demolished to make way for the Benjamin Wistar Morris-designed skyscraper, which survives.

Stone magazine, January 1927 (copyright expired)

Isaac F. Duckworth's 1865 41 Worth Street

 

Around 1802, a three-story frame house was built at 41 Worth Street between West Broadway and Church Streets.  In the rear yard was a two-story house.  By around 1810, the main building was operated as a boarding house, and in 1821  it became the Eclipse House, a porterhouse (a tavern and restaurant where malt liquor, such as porter, was sold).  

Among the residents in 1857 was Rose Buchett.  On February 13, 1857, the New-York Tribune reported, "At a late hour on Wednesday night a fire broke out in the apartment of Rose Buchett, No. 41 Worth street, but it was extinguished before much damage occurred to the building. The police say that the occupant, while in a state of intoxication, set fire to her bed. The woman was badly burned."

At the time of Rose Buchett's horrific accident, change was again taking place in the Worth Street neighborhood.  Dry goods merchants were encroaching into what today is known as Tribeca, replacing domestic structures with modern loft and store buildings.  In 1862 Phil Laos Mills, a successful dry goods merchant, inherited 41 Worth Street.  Three years later, he partnered with John Gibb to established Mills & Gibb.  Around the same time, Mills demolished the old building at 41 Worth Street and hired architect Isaac F. Duckworth to design a replacement.

Duckworth had only been listed professionally in directories since 1858, and then as a carpenter.  But he would design several striking commercial buildings in the dry goods district, some of which--like 41 Worth Street--with facades cast by Daniel D. Badger's Architectural Iron Works.  For Mills, he designed a five-story store-and-loft building in the Venetian-inspired Italianate style.  

The use of cast iron streamlined the construction process, while allowing Duckworth to embellish the facade with elaborate details.  While the storefront has been brutally altered, it almost assuredly had fluted Corinthian columns.  Blind balustrades ran below the second floor openings, and  quoins with projecting panels ran up the sides.  Above each arcade of windows, the iron was cast to imitate stone blocks.  The intermediate cornices between floors were given rope molding, which was duplicated around the windows and lintels.  Fluted columns, complex keystones (each with a finial), and intricate corbels below each intermediate cornice added to Duckworth's splendid design.

Upon the building's completion, Mills sold it to brothers Samuel and Abraham Wood, whose family would retain ownership until 1954.  Among the first tenants of 41 Worth Street was Frothingham & Co., dry goods commission merchants.  Headed by William Frothingham, the size of Frothingham & Co.'s operation was evidenced on June 29, 1865, when The New York Times reported the firm's sales for the previous year at $1,224.926, or about $22.7 million in 2024.

Sharing the building with Frothingham & Co. in 1866 were Steinberg & Friedberg, importers of "hosiery, gloves, and gentlemen's furnishing goods;" and Thorn & De Camp, auctioneers.  Like other auctioneers in the district, Thorn & De Camp normally liquidated the stock of dry goods firms, like the auction on June 5, 1867 of straw goods "comprising full assortments, in the latest and most desirable shapes, for ladies', misses' and men's wear."  But that was not always the case.  A month earlier, on May 9, Thorn & De Camp had held a "special sale of cigars, wines and liquors."

Occupying space here in 1875 were Thomas P. Remington, Jr. and his partner Charles Westerman.  Remington had established his American Manufactured Goods dry goods business by 1856.  He would come to regret taking Westerman into his firm.  On September 16, 1876, the New York Herald reported that the latter had been arrested.  The article explained that on January 21 the previous year, Westerman had stolen "a $5,000 life assurance policy...valued at $1,300, from Thomas P. Remington, Jr."

Before Elisha Otis's elevators became commonplace, heavy crates of machinery, stock, and other items were hoisted up hatchways--open shafts outfitted with a block and tackle.  The hatchways were dangerous in themselves, often resulting in workers falling to injury or death.  But the hoisting process added to the danger by necessitating at least one employee to position himself below the item being raised.  One such operation ended tragically at 41 Worth Street on November 15, 1878.

With winter nearing, one of the tenants purchased a cast iron stove.  The New York Times reported, "While James Ekin, aged 50, was engaged in hoisting a stove up the hatchway of the premises No. 41 Worth-street, yesterday, the stove slipped from the rope and fell with terrible force on his head, crushing his skull in a frightful manner."  Ekin was taken to the Chambers Street Hospital where he died soon after being admitted.

Working in the building as a porter at the time was Emil J. Deckenbach.  Described by the New York Herald as "a young man of good character and steady habits," he went to Sea Cliff, Long Island, on October 14, 1879 to visit his mother and sister.  According to his sister, he left on the train for Hunter's Point at around 5:00 that afternoon, "taking with him two peach baskets which contained fruit, and about sixty-three cents besides his railroad fare."  Emil would not make it home alive.

The following day, Emil's sister received a note from an undertaker telling her that he was dead and that his body was awaiting burial at the morgue.  According to the New York Daily Graphic, he had been found in an unconscious condition at the 34th Street Ferry.  The New York Herald added, "He was placed in a hand cart and removed to the Twenty-first precinct station house, where it was supposed that he was suffering from the effects of alcoholism.  The odor of his breath, however, did not confirm the suspicion."  He died at the stationhouse.

Emil's sister did some investigating of her own.  When she retrieved the body, the "face was scratched and swollen, as if from a fall.  The nose was cut, and there was a contused wound on the side of the head, besides a discoloration beneath the left eye," she told a reporter.  With police attributing his death to alcoholism and knowing he left her home "in good health and spirts," she went to the 34th Street ferry where she found deckhand Thomas McFarland, who told of finding Emil on the Hunter's Point side of the ferry too feeble to board without assistance.  He was placed in a ladies' cabin, "where he vomited and became unconscious," reported the New York Herald.  

The sister's sleuthing reopened the case.  On October 23, the New York Daily Graphic reported, "Coroner Woltnian said to-day that he would make a thorough and searching investigation in the case of Emil J. Deckenbach.  It is now believed from the bruises found on his body that after alighting from the train at Hunter's Point he was either knocked down for the purpose of robbery or fell from the train."

The Waterloo Woolen Mfg. Co. moved into the building by 1881.  Organized in 1836,  the firm's mills, which were in Waterloo, New York, produced "woolen goods for men's wear; shawls; carriage cloths."

In 1894, Herbert Barton Stevens co-founded the dry goods commission firm of Stevens, Sanford & Hardy, which moved into 41 Worth Street.  Born in Newton, Massachusetts in 1855, Stevens had entered the woolen business at the age of 16.  Typical of the wealthy business owners in the dry goods district, he was a member of the exclusive Union League Club and owned a Newport, Rhode Island estate.

Herbert B. Stevens, Brooklyn Life, July 6, 1895 (copyright expired)

The dry goods commission firm of Schoff, Fairchild & Co., occupied space by 1888.  The New York Times said it "represents some of the largest manufacturers of woolen[s] in the country."  As the Presidential election neared, on August 22, 1888 the newspaper reported that George M. Fairchild, Jr. "is strongly in favor of the re-election of President Cleveland, as are the other members of his firm."

Among those partners was Frederick L. Holmquist, who had been made a member of the firm in 1883.  The Sun said of him, "Mr. Helmquist's reputation has always been excellent."  But he would be the undoing of Schoff, Fairchild & Co.

On April 3, 1891, The Sun reported "Frederick L. Holmquist is no longer a member of the firm of Schoff, Fairchild & Co...A small strip of brass has been tacked up over Holmquist's name on the sign in front of the door, and experts are at work on the books."

A month earlier, bills which the ledgers showed as having been paid were presented as being past due, "and notes given by Holmquist in the firm name were discovered," said the article.  Internal investigation revealed that Holmquist had been "speculating in Wall street."  He turned out to be a poor investor.  The Sun reported, "It was estimated yesterday that Holmquist's losses by speculation were over $50,000."  (The amount would translate to about $1.6 million today.)

Schoff, Fairchild & Co. quickly attempted damage control, saying "Holmquist's speculations would not in any way [financially] embarrass them, and that there would be no prosecution of their ex-partner."  Nevertheless, eleven days later the Evening Herald of Duluth, Minnesota reported that Schoff, Fairchild & Co. had gone under.

A significant tenant moved into 41 Worth Street on May 1, 1902.  The Travers Brothers Company started out as a twine store at 104 Duane Street.  Now, according to Hardware magazine on September 10, 1906, it was "a large distributing and manufacturing concern, with three large plants."

One of the Traverse Brother factories was at 542 West 52nd Street, between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues.  King's Views of New York, 1906 (copyright expired)

In 1911 the H. W. Baker Linen Company took over the entire building.  Hiram Wilson Baker had co-founded the Boyce & Baker company in 1882, and in 1902 bought out his partner's share to establish the current firm.  It manufactured commercial grade linens for hospitals and hotels.

A problem with being affluent and well-known socially in the early years of the 20th century was that one's personal business was considered public.  And so when Baker and his wife Ella separated in 1912, the messy details became fodder for newspaper articles.  On June 15, the New-York Tribune reported that he had obtained a divorce in Reno, Nevada on the grounds of desertion.  The article said, "Owing to his wife's alleged persistent discontent, which, he testified, resulted in the breaking up of the home, they went to boarding.  Later she insisted on going to her mother's, in Brooklyn, and did so."  

Working for the H. W. Baker Linen Company in 1916 was 26-year-old bookkeeper Henry L. Steul, who was married that year.  The cheeriness of his new marriage turned to despair when, on the day he returned to work following his honeymoon, police walked up to his desk and arrested him.  The Bridgeport, Connecticut Evening Farmer reported on December 15, " He was charged with taking a $300 money order two days before his marriage.  According to the police, Steul said he spent the money in presents for his bride and for the honeymoon."

In December 1918, the National Hotel Men's Exposition took place in Madison Square Garden.  The Sun noted that H. W. Baker Linen Company "had one of the largest booths in the Garden."  At the exposition banquet at the Hotel Biltmore on December 20, Hiram Baker "was taken suddenly ill."  The Sun reported two days later, "He went at once to his home at 114th street and Riverside Drive, where he died yesterday morning."  Baker was 56 years old.

Association Men, June 1922 (copyright expired)

The firm continued to operate from 41 Worth Street for more than a decade.  Then, on October 20, 1939, The New York Sun reported, "Marcus Bros., cotton goods converters...have leased the five-story building at 41 Worth street...As soon as present alterations are completed, the lessees will take possession of the structure."

Marcus Bros. remained at 41 Worth Street through 1954, when, after owning the property for nearly nine decades, the Wood family sold it.  The building continued to be home to textile firms until the 1970s, when the Tribeca Renaissance saw artists, galleries and trendy restaurants taking over the former loft buildings.  

By 1975 the upper floors of 41 Worth Street were being used as residences, although the building was not officially converted to four cooperative residences until 1981.  In 2019 a rooftop addition, unseen from the street, added a fifth apartment to the structure.  The building was designated an individual New York City landmark in 2013.

photographs by the author

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

Isaac Duckworth's Cast Iron 39 Worth Street

 

Only months apart, architect Isaac F. Duckworth received commissions from James Smith and Philo Laos Mills to design side-by-side, five-story store-and-loft buildings at 39 and 41 Worth Street, respectively.  For both, Duckworth turned to Daniel D. Badger's Architectural Iron Works to cast his facades.

Ground was broken for 39 Worth Street on March 1, 1862 and construction was completed on January 28, 1863.  The Superintendent of Building's Semi-Annual Report to the Board of Aldermen described it as a "first-class storehouse."  Duckworth's commercial take on the Italianate style included Corinthian pilasters between each of the upper floor openings, and prominent intermediate cornices defined each floor.  The gently rounded upper corners of the windows drew on the emerging Second Empire style.  Duckworth crowned the building with a robust cornice composed of a corbel table, paneled fascia, and large and small foliate brackets.

The area was rapidly becoming Manhattan's dry goods district.  Among the early tenants of 39 Worth Street was E. Waitzhelder & Co., "commission merchants and dealers in dry goods and cottons."  The New York Herald called the company "old and reputable," adding "The firm have a cotton factory in Philadelphia which cost them about $100,000."  That figure would translate to about $2.75 million in 2023.

The Financial Panic of 1873 devastated banks and businesses, and E. Waitzhelder & Co. was not an exception.  On November 27, 1875, the New York Herald reported that the firm's failure had "created a great deal of excitement in the Cotton Exchange" the previous day.  

Importantly, the article noted that E. Waitzhelder & Co. "have made an assignment to Abraham Backer."  He was a partner in the cotton commission firm of Backer & Cohen, which was also in 39 Worth Street.  That firm survived the depression and would remain in the building for years.  Backer's personal fortune survived as well.  When the Jersey City Finance Committee secretly sold off large amounts of city bonds in 1880, The New York Times reported "Mr. Backer, a capitalist, at No. 39 Worth-street...took $400,000 of the issue."  The amount would equal about $11.8 million today.

Although freight elevators were being installed in commercial buildings in the last quarter of the 19th century, that was not the case at 39 Worth Street.  Tenants used a "hatchway"--an open shaft outfitted with a pulley system by which crates and bundles were hoisted up and down.  It was a dangerous process which resulted in tragedy in 1882.  

Fourteen-year-old James Sullivan lived on Bayard Street in the impoverished Five Points district.  Like most teen boys of needy families, he dropped out of school to work.  The New York Times reported on January 6 that he "fell through the hatchway of the building No. 39 Worth-street, from the third to the first floor, yesterday, and was killed."

By now, Abraham Backer had established a second firm in the building, Arkwright Mills, A. Backer & Co.  The company's mills in Manayunk, Pennsylvania manufactured "ginghams and checks."  Also here by 1886 were the New York buying office of I. Epstein & Bro., and importers Lipman & Co.  

I. Epstein & Bro. was a Savannah-based firm established in 1854.  The Industries of Savannah described it as "an example of the better class of business houses doing business out of Savannah, and will compare well with any similar concern elsewhere located."

The list of items Lipman & Co. imported was exhausting, including "linen and jute goods, burlaps, sackings, and yarns, Aberdeen, French elastic, pelissier, military, double warp and other clothiers' canvases," according to the New York Stock Exchange Historical Review in 1886.  Established in 1840 in Dundee, Scotland, the firm now had branches in Germany, Ireland, England, Chicago, Minneapolis and New York.

One tenant decidedly not in the dry goods trade in 1886 was George M. Jacocks & Co.  Among the items it marketed was the Rubber Marking Pen, for labeling crates and mail.

The American Stationery, April 15, 1886 (copyright expired)

The Persian and East India Co. occupied the store space in 1888.  That year it advertised "Holiday Presents Extraordinary," including exotic "Rugs, table-cloths, tea-cloths, antique arms, antique shawls, portieres, draperies, benares-ware, armor, tea gowns."  The advertisement said the items were available "at the Bungalow of the Persian and East India Co."

William E. Harrop did business from 39 Worth Street in 1890.  That fall he traveled to Syracuse, New York on business, staying at the Leland Hotel there.  The Leland was described by The New York Times as "the largest hotel in Central New-York."  On October 16, the newspaper began an article saying, "What proved to be the most disastrous fire that has visited Syracuse for many years was discovered in the Leland Hotel at 12:30 o'clock this morning."  The journalist, who was writing the article at 2:00 a.m., said "the fire is still burning fiercely...The hotel is entirely destroyed."

Twenty-five persons perished, and among them was William E. Harrop.  The Morning Telegram explained, "he was coming down from the fourth floor on the fire escape when the rope broke and he fell.  He died at St. Joseph's hospital at 4 o'clock."

By the early 1890s, the massive Carl A. Evertz company operated from at least one floor of 39 Worth Street.  In 1894 it employed 25 men, 11 teenaged boys, 49 women, 45 teen girls, and one "child who cannot read or write English."  The staff worked 59 hours throughout the week and another 9 hours on Saturdays.

Carl A. Evertz was born in Germany in 1856 and came to New York as a boy.  His firm manufactured "sample books, sample cards, and card cases."  Like most successful immigrants, he had not forgotten his roots.  He was for years the president of the Frederick Gluech Quartet Club, was a member of the Arion Singing Society (a German-language singing group), a member of the German-American Municipal League, and president of the German Hospital Society.

The first decade of the 20th century continued to see dry goods firms occupy the building, including Edward Scheitlin Co., dealers in hosiery, underwear and gloves; the Worchester Woolen Mills Company, which manufactured "uniform cloths;"  the dry goods commission merchants Textile Commission Company; and Nathan & Greer.

 

Dry Goods Economist, December 23, 1911 (copyright expired)

The post-World War I years saw Henry C. Kelley Co., dealers in rope and cord; Haslin Mills, which advertised its Spring 1920 line of "clever cotton fabrics for dresses and costumes;" and H. Wertheim, cotton fabrics, in the building.

Wertheim was stopped on the street in September 1924 by a reporter from The Sun.  Each day, the newspaper's "Inquiring Reporter" asked five random persons a question.  Wertheim was asked, "Has prohibition accomplished what its advocates claimed for it?"  His answer left no question as to his stance.  "Why don't the advocates of prohibition, who claimed so much, go out and acknowledge frankly that it was a gigantic mistake and modify the law?" 

Morris and Edward E. Scher took a loft in 1935 for their newly formed Scher Textiles, Inc.  The brothers had been brought to America from Russia by their parents as children.

In 1938 the ground floor store space became home to the Weeping Willow Tea Room.  It was possibly at this time that the the Daniel Badger storefront, which would have had fluted iron columns, was replaced with a masonry front with a vast window.

The building continued to house textile firms for decades.  Slowly, beginning in the third quarter of the 20th century, the Tribeca neighborhood saw change, as artists and shops took over the vintage loft structures.  In 2002, 39 Worth Street was converted to residential above the store space.

photographs by the author

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

The Lost William F. Foster "Iron House" - 300 Riverside Drive

 

A delicate and delightful iron fence surrounded by property.  (original source unknown)

Born in Taunton, England in 1841, William Fowler Foster arrive in America in 1856, first settling in Chicago.  Foster began a silk business in the burgeoning frontier city, amassing a fortune.  Then, like so many businessmen, he saw everything he had worked for wiped out when downtown Chicago burned for two days on October 8 through 10, 1871.

The resolute Foster started over, turning his attention from selling silk to the manufacturing of gloves.  Around the time he married Bertha M. Fox, he invented what The Sun would describe as "a fastening for gloves which was instrumental in building up his fortune."  He and Bertha relocated to New York City where he established a glove factory, Foster, Paul & Co., in Harlem.  The Sun said he "extended it until he had become one of the largest manufacturers of gloves in America."

Foster's invention made the gloves secure, and their donning and removal simple.

Within three years, Foster, Paul & Co. had relocated his offices to 84 Reade Street and established a large factory on East 14th Street.  Before the turn of the century the firm would own a substantial building at 365-367 Broadway where it employed 150 women.

William and Bertha M. Foster lived at 533 East 120th Street in 1887.  That year they laid plans for an opulent home to the west, along the developing Riverside Drive with its magnificent views and refreshing breezes.  The northern part of the Drive was just beginning to see the rise of magnificent mansions, like the Samuel Gamble Bayne house at 108th Street, completed that year.  The Fosters purchased the southern half of the block between 102nd and 103rd Streets and commissioned architect Halstead Parker Fowler to design their home.  His plans, filed in January 1888, estimated construct costs at $70,000, or just over $2 million by 2023 conversions.

Whether it was Foster or his architect who decided to use cast iron in the construction is unclear, but it was a bold step and almost unheard of in domestic construction.  Using a cast iron facade accelerated the building process and the mansion was completed within a few months.  Fowler's three-story, Renaissance Revival design was intended to catch the breezes from the river, with faceted bays on the front and side elevations.  The panels were cast to resemble undressed stone and a broad, complex Renaissance Revival frieze ran below the balustraded cornice.  A deep, columned porch provided support for a second story solarium.  The unusual residence quickly earned the nickname "the Iron House."

The Fosters had only just moved in when, in July, they brought Fowler back to enlarge the house with a "one-story brick and iron extension."  The "glass and iron roof" mentioned in the plans suggests a conservatory.  The addition cost Foster the equivalent of $59,000 today.  Two months later Fowler would design a two-story brick stable to the rear of the property.

Foster's greatest pride was his massive library in his new mansion.  The Sun mentioned, "many of his friends were surprised when he showed them a catalogue of over 1,400 volumes, which he had carefully selected while deeply immersed in business affairs."  The Fosters additionally owned a valuable collection of oil paintings.

In 1893 Bertha's unmarried sisters, Carrie and Emma Gertrude Fox, were visiting from Chicago.  On the afternoon of December 17 William took them for a carriage ride along Riverside Drive.  "Their carriage was driven by Mr. Foster's coachman, and was drawn by a pair of big black horses, that were both gentle and valuable," said The Sun.  At around 5:00, as they were returning home, disaster struck.

"As they were nearing Seventy-third street," reported The Sun, "the coachman saw two buggies come racing down the avenue, each drawn by a fast horse.  Neither driver would let the other pass."  Foster's coachman pulled the carriage as far to the curb as possible and stopped.  Nevertheless, one of the racing buggies crashed into the carriage "with tremendous force."  The coachman was tossed into the gutter.  Foster jumped out and called to the women to do the same, but they were too shocked and unnerved to move.

William Foster pulled Carrie from the carriage.  As he had her about half way out, the horses became frightened and started off.  "Mr. Foster held tight to the young woman, but he could not prevent her falling, and she was struck by the wheel of the coach and whirled about."  A terrified Emma Fox was still in the carriage as the two panicked horses galloped away, with the coachman and Foster running behind.

At one point, the carriage struck a metal fence upheld by iron posts.  The article said, "Then followed a display of fireworks that is likened to the blaze and sparkle the trolley leaves in its train.  The steel axles of the heavy carriage struck the wire posts one after another and raised a stream of sparks."  Emma's screams of terror only added to the fright of the horses.  The runaway carriage destroyed the fence for three blocks.  Each time it struck a fencepost, another explosion of sparks occurred.  At 76th Street one of the horses became tangled up in the wire of the fencing.  "The other dragged its mate along for ten or fifteen feet," said The Sun, "and then was seized by three men who had been walking down the footpath."

Emma was removed from the carriage, unhurt but shaken.  The racing drivers had disappeared, their buggies left in pieces on the Drive.  Foster's carriage, which he said had cost the equivalent of $37,300 in 2023 money, "was a wreck."  Perhaps worse, one of the horses had a deep, 18-inch cut on hits flank.  According to Foster, it "was one of quite a famous pair which were owned by the son of Gen. John A. Logan."  It was unclear at the time if the horse could be saved.  Luckily, while Foster  had bruised his knee and Carrie Fox was "somewhat bruised and shaken," none of the party was seriously injured.

The following year the Fosters seriously considered another move.  On October 6, 1894, the Record & Guide reported that William had purchased the country estate of Laura B. Field at Hastings-0n-Hudson for $45,000.  The eight-acre property included a "stone mansion and outbuildings."  He simultaneously paid $40,000 for an adjoining 11 acres and "is said to contemplate the erection of a costly residence."  

The Sun explained that his intention was "to build there a Roman villa."  But his vision of what The New York Times described as "an extensive country place, to be known as Sabine Farm," would not come to pass.  Just as the plans were finalized, in March 1895 Foster was diagnosed with cancer.  The Sun reported later, "recognizing the fatal nature of his disease, he had to forego the realization of his idea."

Foster's death came quickly.  He died on December 3, 1895 at the age of 54.  His will was extremely generous to his employees.  In reporting on its terms on January 16, 1896, The New York Times said, "It is with his former employes [sic] that the deceased millionaire's will is liberal beyond parellel [sic]."  To 11 of his business employees he gave annuities of $500, and to 13 others annuities of $300.  To 27 others and to five of his domestic staff, he gave annuities of $100 each.  For an employer to provide an annual income to his employees after his death was nearly unheard of.  (There was a total of 150 annuities in his will.)

Bertha erected this handsome monument for her husband in Woodlawn Cemetery.  photo by Howard Dale.

Bertha remained in the iron-clad house.  It was the scene of Emma Gertrude Fox's marriage to Roberto Friedrich Bahmann of Cincinnati on October 29, 1905.  Carrie, now married, was the matron of honor and Bertha gave the bride away.  The New-York Tribune reported that the ceremony "took place in a bower of palms and under a lovely bell of white chrysanthemums.  The house was beautifully decorated with smilax, Southern laurel and white chrysanthemums."

On March 9, 1917, New York Herald noted that Bertha's home, "known as 'the iron house,' is one of the show places of the Drive.  There are about fifteen servants living in the house."  Several weeks before that article, a burglar had entered the residence and had partially cut a valuable painting from its frame before being discovered and running off.  Immediately after the incident, Bertha installed burglar alarms.  They soon proved to be a valuable investment.

At around 7:30 on March 8, while Bertha was at dinner, a maid on the third floor, Annie Girlke, saw a man who had shimmied up a drain pipe entering a window.  The New York Herald reported that the burglar alarms "were set in operation by the maid the moment she saw the burglar climb in the window."  Hearing the gongs, coachman Carl Peterson and his two sons rushed into the house and up the stairs, where they came face-to-face with the intruder.  The thief drew a revolver and threatened to shoot if anyone made a sound.

The New York Herald wrote, "Nevertheless Peterson called for help, and Mrs. Foster and [the] servants promptly locked themselves in rooms."  The burglar climbed out the library window on the second floor, dropped to the ground and fled.  The ringing of the burglar alarms drew scores of people from homes and apartment houses.  By the time police arrived, the burglar was long gone.  "So terror stricken were those within, however, that it was almost fifteen minutes bef0re they recovered sufficiently to admit the policemen."  The newspaper noted, "Although Mrs. Foster kept much valuable silver and jewelry in the house, the police believe that the thief was after some of the paintings in the library."

On March 2, 1922 the New York Herald reported that developers Harris, Albert and Samuel Sokolski had purchased the Riverside Drive property, "on which is the large residence of Mrs. Bertha M. Foster."  The article noted, "The buyers will erect on the corner...a fourteen story apartment house and a nine-story apartment adjoining the street."

Calling the Foster mansion "one of the residential landmarks of Riverside Drive," The New York Times said the property was "the largest site in that section overlooking the Hudson under single ownership."  The mansion and outbuildings were demolished later that year and replaced with the 300 Riverside Drive apartment building.

photo by Deansfa

Bertha died two years later at the age of 66 and was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in the memorial she had erected for her husband 27 years earlier.

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Henry Fernbach's 1883 121-123 Greene Street

 

The Greene Street neighborhood developed a sordid reputation following the Civil War.  Brothels occupied many of the former homes and 121 Greene Street was not an exception.  At around midnight on January 17, 1862, for instance, a patron was removed after "during the act of coition, he was attacked with palsy," according to Dr. Edward C. Sequin.  (He most likely suffered a minor stroke.)   And the New York Dispatch reported on January 12, 1879, "When Justice Otterbourg ordered a complaint to be made against No. 121 Greene street, he no doubt hoped the police would get the evidence to convict.  Possibly the thing was impossible.  The surrounding neighbors could not very well go into court to complain, being in the same business."

At the time of Justice Otterbourg's frustration, things were changing in the Greene Street neighborhood.  Millinery and drygoods firms were inching northward and the old two- and three-story houses were being replaced by commercial structures.  

Julius and Adolph Lewisohn operated the millinery supply firm Lewisohn Bros., which imported and manufactured ostrich feathers, artificial flowers, "bristles, hair, vegetable fibre, &c."  In 1882 they purchased and demolished the buildings at 121 and 123 Greene Street and hired architect Henry Fernbach to design a replacement loft and store building.  Fernbach was busy in the Soho area at the time.  As a matter of fact, he was simultaneously designing the two abutting buildings as 125 and 127 Greene Street.

Construction began on June 28, 1882 and was completed nine months later--the use of a cast iron facade enabling the rapid rise of the six-story structure.  Ferbach's ornate design, a commercial blend of French Renaissance and Second Empire, featured columns with elaborate capitals (a close inspection reveals a melding of Corinthian and Ionic orders), and fluted pilasters at the ends with stylized acanthus motifs.  Each floor was defined by an intermediate cornice.  The entablature of the terminal cornice was distinguished by acanthus leaves alternating with brackets.  Prominent antefixes sprouted above the cornice.

Sharing the building with Lewisohn Bros. were the offices and showroom of the hat manufacturing firm Ferry & Napier.  It was founded by George J. Ferry in 1856 and became Ferry & Napier in 1879 when he partnered with Ernest Napier.  The factory in Newark, New Jersey employed 250 workers.  

In 1883, according to The Evening Post, Ferry became suspicious of the Newark bookkeeper James F. Bull, "because the profits of the factory fell behind what they would naturally be."  He sent Bull on vacation and then brought in the head bookkeeper, who worked in the Greene Street office, to examine the books.  He immediately discovered embezzlement.  The clever Bull had meticulously recorded the weekly payroll, and the individual figures were checked by the factory supervisor John W. Green.  What Green did not double-check, however, were the totals.  Each week Bull padded the total payroll amount by $10 to $50.  The Evening Post reported, "Ferry thinks the total sum taken will amount to between $3,000 and $4,000." (The higher amount would equal approximately $112,000 in 2023.)

Both men were fired, the supervisor "for negligence" for not discovering the scheme.   Somewhat surprisingly, after the 52-year-old Bull admitted his guilt and paid back what he could, Ferry did not press charges.

In the early 1890s Levi Bros. & Blum, which dealt in "notions and dressmaking supplies" was in the building.  For years it had been "the largest importers of high-class Notions in the country," according to The Evening World on January 19, 1894.

Also in the building at the time were two furriers, Albert Herzig, Sons & Co., and Isaac Levi.  The former employed 75 men, 60 women, and 22 girls under 21 years of age in their shop.  The staff worked 53 hours a week.

Fur Trade Review, August, 1893 (copyright expired)

In 1893 Isaac Levi took an extended buying trip to Europe, leaving brothers Adolph and Montague Berhard in charge of the New York operation.  He shipped $100,000 worth of furs from London, a significant three-and-a-quarter million in today's dollars.  A year later he told a reporter, "They did not remit any money last year, and explained that the crisis in America had prevented sales."  (That crisis was the Financial Panic of 1893.)  The excuse made sense, and Levi was unsuspecting.

He arrived back in New York at the beginning of 1894 to discover that Adolph had gone to Europe in December.  "Montague told me that my goods were all in bond, and a short time after my arrival he also left for Europe," said Levi.  "My suspicions were not even then aroused."

But in March, he visited the custom house brokers where he discovered that only half of the goods were in the warehouse.  An investigation showed that the brothers had sold much of the inventory before leaving the country.  But if the Berhards thought they could live the high life on their ill-gotten fortunes abroad, they underestimated their employer.  On May 1, 1894, The Press reported, "Isaac Levi of 123 Greene street, said yesterday: 'I caused the arrest of Adolph and Montague Bernhard in London."  The Evening World noted, "At the prisoners' lodgings a large quantity of valuable property, said to belong to Mr. Levi, was seized."  And Isaac Levi was much less forgiving than George J. Ferry had been.  "They were remanded for a week this morning in London, and will be brought back here for trial."

In 1905 Harry L. Block leased the building "for a long term of years."  His firm manufactured "ladies' and misses' skirts."  He subleased space to apparel maker Natkin & Laitin; cotton goods merchant Siegbert & Co.; and silk dealer Max Kempfer.

from Forest Leaves, 1910 (copyright expired)

Siegbert & Co. was headed by Samuel Siegbert who, according to The New York Press, "made a fortune in Prairie du Chien, Wis., and lived lavishly in a fourteen-room apartment."  That apartment, where Siegberg lived with his wife and daughter, was on the sixth floor of the Ardsley Court on Central Park West.  But his otherwise idyllic life was tortured by back pain.

On February 25, 1905, the family had breakfast together, after which Siegbert went into his study.  A few minutes later the telephone rang.  The New York Press reported, "Asked over the building telephone if any one had fallen from her apartment, Mrs. Siegbert ran to her husband's study and, finding the door locked, called for help.  The door was forced, a window was found open, and, looking down into the court behind the house, Mrs. Siegbert saw her husband's body and fell back unconscious."

Explaining that Siegbert had been "crazed by lumbago pains," the article said his gruesome plunge from the sixth floor window landed him head first on an iron fence where "one of the sharp points pierced his skull, holding him transfixed.  His neck was broken and one of his legs was fractured in two places."

Max Kempfer was the victim of an all-too-familiar crime in the Greene Street building over the decades.  In January 1908 he had 16-year-old employee Moses Neufeld arrested on grand larceny charges for stealing a large quantity of silk.  The teen still had the goods when he was apprehended.  In court on January 7, the boy's attorney asked Magistrate Kernochan permission to request that Kempfer devalue the silk from $47 to $25, "and thus reduce the charge to petit larceny," according to The Sun.  The magistrate said he was willing to allow it, but Kempfer was less sympathetic.  The Sun reported, "Mr. Kemper said he couldn't conscientiously swear to a different valuation on the silk."  Neufelt was held on $1,000 bail awaiting trial.

A new type of tenant arrived following the end of World War I.  The Peerless Doll Company operated from the building in 1918, and the following year doll maker Reisman Barron & Co., Inc, took three floors.  A notice dated December 29, 1919 called the new location "one of the largest and most complete doll factories in the city."

An advertisement in Toys and Novelties in April 1920 noted, "One entire floor is used for our head factory, which has an output of over sixty thousand head[s] per week, another is used for the manufacture of the complete doll, our third floor is used for storing all raw materials."

Dry Goods Economist, August 5, 1922 (copyright expired)

Also in the building in 1921 were the Victory Box Company, Inc., makers of cardboard boxes; and Samuel Hymes & Sons, cotton converters.  The latter firm  however, was about to cease business.

On July 16, 1921 the New-York Tribune reported that brothers Philip and Irwin Hymes had been arrested on grand larceny charges.  In a desperate attempt to keep afloat the company which their father had founded, they had defrauded two banks by providing false financial statements.  They obtained large credit lines as well as $25,000 in cash.  The two institutions filed charges after Samuel Hymes & Sons filed bankruptcy on February 5, 1921.

The Soho neighborhood was industrial and gritty in the 1950s and '60s.  The I. H. Manufacturing Co. occupied space in 121 Green Street, where it made "TV picture tube boosters and accessories, sockets for tubes, transistors and crystals."  But change was on the horizon.  The third quarter of the century saw Soho discovered by artists, who used the vast industrial lofts for studio and living space.  The store fronts became galleries and cafes.

Two views of the building in the 1980s.  Despite the abuse, the historic elements of the architecture, including the original doors, survived.  images via josephpelllombardi.com

In March 1978 the Pincar Gallery opened in 121 Greene Street.  The upper floors were converted to cooperative housing in 1988 by the architectural restoration firm of Joseph Pell Lombardi.  On June 12 that year, The New York Times mentioned, "When a building at 123 Greene Street became a residential co-op recently, the unrenovated 4,000-square-foot floors sold briskly for about $800,000 apiece."

Galleries came and went.  In the early 1990s the Sperone Westwater Gallery was here and would remain at least through 2000.  Modern Age Gallery exhibited from 1992 to about 1995, and Douglas Blau had space in 1993.  By 2014 the ground floor was shared by the Proenza Schouler boutique and Warby Parker eyeglasses, the latter opening in April 2013.

Sadly, Greene Street is too narrow for the observer to get an optimum perspective of Henry Fernbach's striking cast iron building.  It is wonderfully intact, including the delicate capitals, often the first elements to rust and fall away.

photographs by the author

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