The Lost Union Dime Savings Bank - Sixth Avenue and Broadway

 

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

Founded in 1859, the Union Dime Savings Institute started out in unassuming offices at Canal and Varick Streets.  Eight years later, it moved to larger quarters at Canal and Laight Street.  Then, in October 1874, despite the country's being mired in the crippling Financial Panic of 1873, the trustees laid bold plans--to move the bank northward to the trapezoidal plot facing the small park that would be named Greeley Square in 1892.

Thirty-six-year-old Stephen Decatur Hatch was given the commission to design the new building.  The architect had designed the elaborate, Second Empire style Gilsey House Hotel three blocks to the south on Broadway in 1868.  He turned to the popular style again for the Union Dime Savings Bank building.

On September 30, 1876, The New York Times reported on the progress of construction, saying the "large and commodious building at the junction of Broadway, Sixth-ave., and Thirty-second-st...when completed, will be an ornament to the upper part of the city."  The article predicted the cost of construction to be $250,000, and said the figure would have been much higher had the economic conditions not drastically cut labor costs.  The Sun chimed in, saying the cost of the land was $275,000, "making the total outlay $525,000."  That figure would translate to about $15.4 million in 2024.

Five floors tall above a basement level, the building was clad in Westchester marble.  "There are also seventeen large pillars of polished Nova-Scotia stone placed on the three sides of the building, which lend a grace and beauty to the whole exterior," said the article.  A three-story, six-sided clock tower wore crown-like, cast iron cresting.  Upon its completion, The Sun described the Union Dime Savings Bank building on January 22, 1877 as "by far the finest structure of the kind in the city."

Nine months after opening in its new home, rumors began circulating that the bank's costly marble palace had overstretched its resources.  On October 24, 1877, the New York Herald said, "The story that the new building was 'too heavy to carry' was repeated with certain additions."  The rumors turned to panic and the New York Herald headlined the article, "Panic-Stricken Depositors Make a 'Run' on a Savings Bank."  The article said that long before opening, "a large crowd of anxious depositors had congregated in the vicinity of the bank and lined the sidewalk opposite, skirting the little garden park at the junction of Sixth avenue and Broadway at Thirty-second street."  Police had to be called in to control the near-riot.

The Sixth Avenue Elevated had opened by 1889 when this photo was taken.  King's Handbook of New York City (copyright expired)

The following day, the New York Herald ran a one-line article, saying, "The run on the Union Dime Savings Bank showed no signed of abatement, and will probably be renewed this morning, notwithstanding the confident assurances of its officers."  Eventually, reason ruled and on November 30 the newspaper concluded an article saying, "The Union Dime's directors are in a pretty safe condition, but there is no margin for wild investment."

Just under three decades after opening its doors, on August 7, 1906 The New York Times reported that the Union Dime Savings Bank had sold the property for $1 million (equal to nearly $35 million today).  The trustees had purchased a plot at 40th Street and Sixth Avenue as its new home.  The article said, "The bank will continued to occupy its property at Broadway and Thirty-second Street until May, 1908."

The majestic structure was worthy of its own stereoscope slide.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

In fact, the bank did not move out until February 1910 when its new structure was completed.  In the meantime, the property had been resold.  On February 27, 1910, The New York Times reported, "The new English owners will not take title to the old Union Dime building until May 1.  Rumors that the edifice was to be torn down were set at rest yesterday when a representative of the company stated that it was not the intention of the owners to make any improvement for five years at least."

The majestic marble structure survived until 1928.  On November 4, The New York Times published an article on the flurry of construction going on in the district.  It said in part that a project that "will probably not be long delayed, will be the demolition of the old Union Dime Savings Bank Building."  The article commented, "This has long been one of the interesting landmarks of the city."

The article had predicted correctly.  The Union Dime Savings Bank Building was demolished to be replaced by a seven-story, Art Deco commercial building designed by Starrett & Van Vleck which survives.

photo by acronson

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The Lost Boreel Building - 113-119 Broadway

 

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

Born in 1813, Sarah Astor was the daughter of John Jacob and Sarah Cox Todd Astor.  When she married Robert Boreel in 1842, her father transferred title to the former City Hotel (by then being used as an office building) on the western blockfront of Broadway between Thames and Cedar Streets.  

Purchased by John Jacob Astor in 1828, the City Hotel had operated since 1794.  Old New York Yesterday & Today, 1922, (copyright expired)

More than three decades later, on July 13, 1878, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported that Stephen Decatur Hatch had filed plans for a seven-story "brick and iron office building" on the site for Sarah Boreel.  Hatch projected the cost of construction at $270,000 (about $8.5 million in 2024).

An article in The American Architect and Building News on January 4, 1879 discussed the effect of elevators on Manhattan buildings, saying, "with the general use of elevators people would be just as willing to have offices in the seventh or eighth story as in the first."  As an example, it pointed to the Boreel Building "in the process of construction."  It said, "This has a high basement, high enough for handsome offices, a lofty first story suitable for a bank or insurance company, and five stories above that.  It is a large building, and will use four elevators."

Construction was completed in May 1879.  Stephen Decatur Hatch's neo-Grec structure sat on rusticated stone piers.  Its stone-framed Broadway entrance extended into the second floor.  The central bay was topped with a prominent pediment.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in stone, it was the largest office building in New York and, according to William Harrison Bayles in his 1915 Old Taverns of New York, "was considered the finest building devoted to office purposes in the city."  

The four Otis elevators rose within an open atrium lighted by a glass skylight.  On November 2, 1889, Building described, "three floors with galleries surrounding an open court, upon three sides of which offices are located, which are reached by an elevator, as well as by stairways."

Visitors peer over the railings into the atrium.  (original source unknown)

While attorneys and other professionals leased space in the Boreel Building, it quickly became known as the center of Manhattan's mining stock brokers.  Only a year after the building opened, however, things looked bad for them.  On August 2, 1880, The Sun reported,

The mining business seems to be gone, so far as New York is concerned.  The "Regulation hat" has departed from among us.  The halls of the Boreel building are as empty as those of Tara.  The cheery voice of the honest miner is no longer heard asking the elevator boy to let him out at "bed rock," as he facetiously called the ground floor.

The crisis resulted in those "honest" mining brokers in the Boreel Building being replaced by frauds.  As an example, on July 23, 1881, The Record & Guide pointed to "the most unfortunate operator that ever came to New York," George Roberts.  Having made a fortune in California, Roberts sought to enlarge it here.  "But Mr. Roberts, in coming to New York, found himself a lamb among the wolves," said the article.  It listed several transactions in which Roberts had been fleeced, adding, "And now it is understood the the same swindling scoundrels who have treated Mr. Roberts so badly with Huskill, Freeland, Chrysolite, Little Chief, Robinson, Iron Silver and the State Line Mines, are trying to get him into a Mexican mining scheme."

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

The following year, on May 27, 1882, the Real Estate Record reported on the lawsuit of an investor named Badeau's against several Boreel Building brokers.  He claimed he had been swindled in a deal involving two mines, the Washington and the Bradshaw.  The Real Estate Record agreed, saying, "The $600,000 extracted from mining people by that deal was as clear a steal as any pickpocketing operation ever performed."  The article declared, "They are held responsible, and very justly, and if the $600,000 can be recovered, it will do much to help depopulating the Boreel building of the mining swindlers who are now, it is said, making it their headquarters."

And, indeed, before long most of the mining brokers were gone, replaced by insurance and real estate offices.  The 1887 How to Know New York City advised that the Boreel Building was "filled with offices, largely of famous and powerful insurance companies."

In 1885, rentable, fireproof vaults were installed in the basement of the building.  On October 10, the Record & Guide explained they could be rented for from $15 to $75 per year.  "The smallest of these are 5x6 and 8 feet high, and are especially suitable for family silver, gold plate, books, papers and articles of a bulky nature...The burglar alarm system is used whereby no door can be opened without immediate detection."

By 1888, New Yorkers' confidence in elevators was well established.  Emphasizing elevator safety, on June 20, The Evening World commented, "Patrick Phillips, Eddie Clarkson, John Trainor and Eddie Kasteen take hundreds of lawyers and railroad men up and down in the Boreel Building elevators every day, and have never had an accident."

Sarah Boreel died in 1895 and six years later her estate sold the Boreel Building to the Central Realty Bond and Trust Co. "for a price said to be not far from $2,225,000," as reported by the Real Estate Record & Guide on February 23, 1901.  (That figure would translate to about $82.3 million today.)  In a separate article, the journal predicted, "No doubt some time within the next few years the Boreel Building, itself only a little over twenty years ago one of the best of its kind, will be superseded by a building over twenty stories high."

Indeed, the following year, on May 3, 1902, the Record & Guide reported that the George A. Fuller Construction Co. had purchased the property.  The firm "will improve the site with a 25-story office building, which it is estimated will cost $2,500,000," said the article.  The secretary of the Fuller firm told the Record & Guide, "that operation is two years off."

At the time of the sale, the Boreel Building (right) was separated from the Trinity Building by narrow Thames Street.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In the meantime, a month after that article, the Record & Guide noted that well-known architect Henry Ives Cobb had moved his practice from Washington D. C. and "has leased a large suite of offices on the top of the Boreel Building."

But the inevitable came to pass in 1905.  On March 25 the Record & Guide reported, "The old Boreel Building...has begun to yield to the wreckers' axes, and though partly occupied and not apparent from Broadway, still in the rear it may be seen that the partitions and inside walls are being torn out."

Nine months later, the publication headlined an article, "Farewell to the Boreel Building" and said, "in a few days the last of the debris will have been carted away."  The journalist recalled, 

The Boreel was one of the first of the type of really large fireproof office buildings in the city, and one of the first of those whose construction was influenced by the perfecting of passenger elevators.

The Boreel Building was replaced by the 1907 United States Realty Building, designed by Francis H. Kimball.

from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

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The 1868 Henry T. Ingalls House -- 118 East 18th Street

 

In 1867 Henry T. Ingalls commissioned Stephen Decatur Hatch to design a sumptuous new home at 118 East 18th Street, two blocks south of Gramercy Park.  His choice of architects was somewhat bold, the 28-year-old Hatch having opened his practice just three years earlier.  As it turned out, he would go on to produce remarkable structures, including the Gilsey House Hotel and the sprawling Murray Hill Hotel in Manhattan, and and U.S. War Department Building in Washington D. C.

Completed in 1868, the 25-foot-wide, four-story structure was faced in brownstone.  Compared to the architectural pizzazz of some of his later works, Hatch's design was safe--an expected, by-the-books example of the Italianate style.  It was nonetheless an elegant home suitable for the wealthy family who would live in it.  Molded architrave frames that sat on delicate brackets surrounded each window and an arched pediment, supported by heavy foliate brackets, crowned the entranceway.

The Ingalls family had lived in a fine home on Union Square.  Henry was an importer of ebony, shell, ivory and other exotic tropical goods.  His Mary, had died on November 21, 1864 at the age of 67.  

Moving into the new house with Ingalls were his daughter, Elizabeth B., and her family.  She had married Edward R. Janes in 1854 and the couple had four children, Rebecca, Herbert, Henry E. and Arthur.  A year after they moved in a fifth child, Walter, was born.

Edward R. Janes was born in Hartford, Connecticut in 1829.  While still a boy he went to work in his father's iron foundry, Janes, Fowler, Beebe & Co.  The firm moved to New York City in 1840.   Its prominence in the industry was reflected in its contract to do the ironwork for the Capitol Building dome in Washington, begun in 1860.  (Interestingly, work was stopped at the outbreak of Civil War, and the iron girders were torn down and used to barricade the Capitol.  It had to be restarted nearly from scratch after the war.)

Henry Ingalls did not enjoy his new home for especially long.  He died on July 2, 1871 at the age of 74.  As was customary, his funeral was held in the drawing room three days later.

Elizabeth seems to have had staff problems in 1872.  On February 2 she placed an advertisement seeking "A competent laundress, and to assist in chamberwork," and in September she was looking for "a competent plain cook for a large private family; wages $16."  The salary Elizabeth was offering would be equal to just under $350 per week today.

The house was the scene of another funeral on August 24, 1876 following the death of  Edward's brother, Charles B. Janes, at the age of 33.  The Janes family left 118 East 18th Street in 1879, selling it to James Bryon.

The Byron family was at their summer home in August when burglars forced open the basement door "and thoroughly ransacked the premises," according to the Brooklyn Union-Argus on August 21.  The two young men were apprehended getting off a Second Avenue streetcar with two heavy satchels laden with "plunder."  Inside were "valuable silk dresses and silk and satin cloaks" belonging to Mrs. Byron.

By the early 1880's 118 East 18th Street was home to banker George Harman Peabody.  Born in Ohio in 1830, he had come to New York City in 1850.  In 1865 he married Belle Bratton Ward and in 1868 their only child, George, Jr., was born.

By 1874 Peabody's fortune was sufficient enough for him to found The Peabody Home for Aged Women on Lexington Avenue at 33rd Street.  Most likely initially prompted by the number of Civil War widows who needed assistance, it moved to the Bronx in 1880.

George, Jr. was a troubled teen.  The sons of wealthy families most often attended private boarding schools and George was sent to Cobb's Institute near the village of Cornwall-on-the-Hudson.  He had significant problems fitting in with the other boys there.  One youth told a reporter from The New York Times:

Peabody was a lad of very excitable temperament, and was often picked upon by the other scholars.  On several occasions, when annoyed in this way in the gymnasium connected with the school, he exhibited strong symptoms of insanity.  He would throw himself upon the floor, and kick and writhe like a contortionist, yelling and using the most profane language.  So uncontrollable would he become that even the teachers were afraid to go near him.

On the afternoon of Friday, December 5, 1884, George walked to the village, which was about two miles from the school.  At around 6:00 that evening he staggered into the school building, and fainted into the arms of Mr. Cobb's coachman.  His hat was missing, his clothes were soaking wet and covered in blood and mud.  His throat had been slashed repeatedly with a dull knife.

The village doctor stitched his wounds, and the boy lingered for just over a day before dying on Sunday morning.  The New York Times said, "During Friday night, and in fact up to the time of his death...Peabody was out of his mind most of the time, and talked and acted in a wild manner."

Investigators found George's hat floating on a nearby pond and evidence of his struggles to get out of the water and up the muddy bank.  The suggestion that another student would have murdered his classmate would have been damaging to the school's reputation.  The officials of the institute and Dr. Vail concluded that George had clumsily cut his own throat--a procedure that required several attempts because of the dull knife--then threw himself into the pond.

They sent the body to his parents for interment before an inquest could be held.  It raised the ire of the Coroner, who lodged a complaint against Dr. Vail with the County District Attorney.

Following her mourning period, Belle Peabody picked up her active social schedule.  On October 10, 1887, for instance, the New York Amusement Gazette reported:

Mrs. George H. Peabody gave a large musicale on Thursday afternoon last, at her residence, No. 118 East Eighteenth Street.  Mrs. Peabody's receptions are always well attended, and her selections of musical talent evidences perfect taste.  Mrs. Peabody is a veritable patron of music.

By the turn of the century the house was being operated as a high-end boarding house.  Living here in the first decade of the new century were attorney Paul B. Scarff; another attorney, Wade Green; and Dr. Austin Flint who appeared as an expert in the murder trial of Harry Thaw in 1907.

A renovation completed in 1921 resulted in "non-housekeeping apartments," meaning that they had no kitchens.  The Certificate of Occupancy clearly noted, "cooking in more than two of the apartments will render this building liable to immediate vacation."

Among the initial residents were Arnaldo and Grace Marson.  Grace's father was Bishop Charles Sumner Burch, who died on December 20, 1920.  In 1922 the Rev. William E. Gardner moved in, and by 1925 Reginald Birch and his wife were residents.

The Birchs' son, Rodney Bathurst Birch, was described by the Pawling Chronicle as the "self-styled English earl of Dunbar, and flyer in the Royal Aviation corps."  He had to appear before a judge that year.  The newspaper explained he, "must stand trial on the indictment obtained by his wife on the charge of abandonment, despite the fact that she tried vainly afterward to have the charges dismissed."

Living here in 1927 was the Schuyler P. Carltons.  Mrs. Carlton's name regularly appeared in the society columns that winter season in reference to her daughter Elizabeth's coming-out.  On November 25, for instance, The Sun reported, "Mrs. Schuyler P. Carlton of 118 East Eighteenth street gives a luncheon at Pierre's for her daughter, Miss Elizabeth P. Carlton."  The New York Evening Post added, "Later on another party will be given in her honor, a holiday tea dance, at the Hotel Ambassador, on December 30.  Miss Carlton, who makes her home with her parents at 118 East Eighteenth Street, was educated at the Brearley School.  The Carltons spent the past summer at Westport Conn."

The Carltons were still here on June 23, 1930 when the New York Evening Post reported that Elizabeth was sailing for Europe "to be away for a year."  It added, "Her engagement to Lieutenant Frederick John Cunningham, U.S.N. retired, was announced on June 10 by her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler G. Carlton of 118 East Eighteenth Street.  The wedding will take place on her return."

Colorful figures continued to call the apartments home over the next few years.  In 1930 artist and sculptor W. B. Graham leased rooms, for instance.  

And in 1943 Edwin Emerson was living here.  Born in Dresden, German in 1869, he had served with Theodore Roosevelt's Rough Riders in the Spanish-American War.  With World War II now raging, he was a war and foreign press correspondent.   He would soon be leaving the East 18th Street apartment however.  In the 1944 United States Congress hearings on Un-American Activities it was reported that Emerson "has been proven to be an official agent of the German Government and of the German Nazi party in this country."

In 1964 the building received another renovation.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to the English basement level.  There were now one apartment in the basement and parlor levels, and two each on the upper floors.  That configuration lasted until 2017 when a penthouse level was added, creating a total of six apartments.

photographs by the author

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The Poland Springs Building - 1180 Broadway

A. G. Newman was a manufacturer of "builders' and house-furnishing hardware" with a factory on West 29th Street.  In 1870 he commissioned Stephen Decatur Hatch to design an office and store building at No. 1180 Broadway, just north of West 28th Street.

Hatch had just designed the lavish Gilsey House hotel a block to the north on Broadway and would go on to produce some of New York City's most recognized buildings of the late 19th century.  His project for Newman was less ambitious.

Completed within the year, the cast iron fronted structure rose five stories, each floor clearly delineated by a molded cornice.  Banded piers with Corinthian capitals flanked the second floor where matching pilasters separated the openings.  Hatch toned down the ornamentation of the third floor with Doric capitals, and then forewent the banding of the outside piers for panels on the upper floors.

Only the second floor (and, presumably, the storefront) received Corinthian touches.

A. G. Newman moved his retail store into the ground floor.  From here architects and builders would select the hardware necessary for construction--hinges, window hardware, and even burglar alarms.  

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, April 23, 1881 (copyright expired)

Newman's store would be convenient to the those tenants in the upper floor offices engaged in the building and real estate trade.   In the 1880's E. H. Ludlow & Co., "real estate, auctioneers and brokers," had its offices here; and in the 1890's building contractor H. Prost operated from the address.

Henry Andersen had been chief assistant architect in the office of Thom & Wilson since 1885.  Now, on March 26, 1892, the Record & Guide announced that he had struck out on his own, opening his own practice at No. 1180 Broadway.  The article noted "Mr. Andersen is well known to many builders in this city.  His architectural experience extends over some twenty years, both in this country and abroad."  Andersen's venture was successful and he worked from the Broadway office into the first years of the 20th century.  

Another architect, Thomas Nelson, had his offices here by 1899.  There were, of course, non-construction related tenants in the building, as well.  Political cartoonist and illustrator Thomas Nast launched his Thomas Nast's Weekly, a "new illustrated paper," from room 12 in September 1892.  The 16-page periodical offered jokes, editorials, the famous Nast cartoons, and news.

from the collection of the University of Minnesota Libraries

By 1894 the offices of the American Theatrical Exchange were in the building.  That particular year was a difficult one for its manager, A. McConnell.  Nearly a decade earlier, in 1886, he had married actress May Hosmer, but she soon left him and sent a letter from Chicago saying she had obtained a divorce.  McConnell then remarried and was living happily with his second wife.

In 1890 May Hosmer married actor Theodore Babcock.  They had one child together, but then in 1893, according to Babcock, "she left with a handsomer man."  He sued her for divorce, but got a letter in return stating that his marriage to May was "a farce and a bigamy" since she had never been divorced from McConnell.

The Evening World reported "This was interesting to McConnell...Now he will also sue the fickle May for absolute divorce and go through a second ceremony with the present Mrs. McConnell."

Women were finding their way into the workplace in the 1890's.  Secretarial jobs, traditionally held by men, were now being offered to females.  Miss James's School trained prospective office workers in No. 1180 starting around 1894 and continuing for several years.  Her courses in stenography and typewriting included "business correspondence, spelling and punctuation."

Louis Blum sold celebrity photographs from his office here in 1899.  An ad in Broadway Magazine in July 1899 offered "Thirty Stunning Photographs" of female stage stars, "some in tights."  For 25 cents the buyer would received pictures of Lillian Russell, Pauline Hall, Della Fox and others, deemed by Blum as "the most stunning women of the contemporaneous stage."

On February 24, 1906 the Record & Guide announced that "Hiram Ricker & Sons, proprietors of Poland water" had purchased No. 1180 Broadway.  "the buyers will extensively alter and occupy the structure," it said.  Simultaneously they bought No. 1178 next door as additional space.

Plans for renovating the building were filed by Edward P. Ricker & Son, as architect.  Not coincidentally, Edward Payson Ricker was a son of Hiram Ricker.  The completed alterations included a new cornice and ambitious parapet that announced "Poland Spring Building."

The various Ricker-headed firms in the building included the Poland Waist Co., the Poland Spring Company, and the New England Resort Hotels.  from the collection of the Office of Metropolitan History

The building, which held the offices of Hiram Ricker & Sons' many ventures including The New England Resort and Travelers' Information Company, was ready for occupancy in November.  Advertisements touted it as Poland Springs' "new and attractive uptown location."

New-York Tribune, November 26, 1906 (copyright expired)

The Ricker enterprises remained in the building for decades.  The travel and hotel booking offices garnered more attention than the less glamorous spring water.  By the second decade of the 20th century the resorts they represented went beyond the New England locations.  In June 1914, for instance, reservations were being taken for the new The Tak-A-Nass-Ee in West End, New Jersey.  It was touted as an "up-to-the-minute hotel, of concrete construction, and possessing all improvements of the best city houses."

This advertisement listed some of the Ricker businesses headquartered in the building.  The Sun, August 1, 1916 (copyright expired)

The Poland Spring and travel offices remained in No. 1180 Broadway through 1922.  Then in 1923 architect Morris Rhineton was hired to convert the ground floor space to a restaurant and to revamp the upper floor offices.  It was most likely at this time that Edward P. Ricker's bold parapet was removed.

The Poland Spring Building parapet was gone before 1941.  The Parnes restaurant occupies the ground floor .  photo via the NYC Dept of Records and Information Services

In the first years of the 1940's the ground floor was home to Parnes Dairy Restaurant.  The eatery would remain for decades and in 1964 The New York Times well-known food critic Craig Claiborne commented that locals "are enthusiastic about breakfast at the Parnes Dairy Restaurant."  He added that the fare was a bit pricey.  "The cost of eating well at breakfast, or rather of dining in the style to which they are accustomed, is a touch elevated but worth it.  A morning's check might range from $3 at Parnes."  The cost of that breakfast would equal about $25 today.

The rusting and battered building sprouts a garish vinyl sign at street level while commercial lofts have replaced the former offices upstairs.  Perhaps the ongoing rediscovery of this section of Broadway will result in a coat of paint and a renovated store front.

photographs by the author

The Manhattan Savings Institute - 644-646 Broadway

photo by Beyond My Ken

At around 6:10 on the evening of October 27, 1878 thieves broke into the Manhattan Savings Institution at Broadway and Bleecker Street and made off with $3.5 million in cash and securities – approximately $91 million by today’s standards.  It was the most sensational bank robbery in United States history.

A decade later the heist was nearly forgotten and the Manhattan Savings Institute was laying plans for a new, larger building.  Its directors turned to architect Stephen Decatur Hatch who was responsible for several Manhattan buildings, most recently the monumental New York Life Insurance Company Building at 346 Broadway.

The bank, which was founded in 1851, moved into temporary offices in 1889 while the old structure at No. 644 Broadway was razed and construction started on the new one.  Hatch used a harmonious mix of Queen Anne and Romanesque Revival styles and a medley of materials: carved sandstone, terra cotta, brick, copper and cast iron. He took advantage of the corner site, crowning the building with a copper-clad tower visible for blocks.

The building was completed in 1891 at a cost of $325,000 (about $9.25 million today).  The facade was a feast of bays, pseudo-balconies, pilasters, arches and small-bracketed courses.  Within the Broadway pediment the Institute’s monogram, MSI, stood in bold copper relief.  In a drastic diversion from traditional European decorative motifs–gods and goddesses, or allegories of continents or the arts, for instance–Hatch turned to the uniquely American.  Beavers, ears of corn, and Native American faces appeared within the keystones and cornices.

A Native American stares out from a keystone above an elaborate wrought iron grill above the corner entrance.

The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide pointed out "The bank floor will be of quartered oak and the other parts of the building ash.  The Broadway entrance will be of marble, the staircases of wrought iron with marble treads."  The structure boasted up-to-date technology:  elevators, electric lighting, steam heat and "a pneumatic clock."

The History and Commerce of New York wrote of the newly completed building, saying, “The banking rooms are handsomely furnished in all respects, and amply provided with improved fire and burglar-proof safes and vaults, which gives the greatest possible security…A valuable and increasing list of patrons is drawn to its counters."   Depositors were no doubt interested in the burglar-proof sales and vaults given the somewhat recent history of the institution. 

The owners proudly touted the new structure as "fire-proof."  But it was not.  On Wednesday, November 6, 1895 fire broke out in an old factory building at the southeast corner of Bleecker Street and Broadway and spread to the Manhattan Savings Institute.  The Record & Guide accused "The susceptibility of this building, which was publicly, though improperly, accepted as a fire-proof building, to injury from fire has created a great outcry and thrown doubts in the untechnical mind on the value of fire-proof construction."

Diplomatically, the journal did not aim blame at Stephen Decatur Hatch.  Calling him "a man prominent in the profession in his day," it said he "could not have imagined what has actually occurred, that his building would be partially destroyed by a fire originating across the street.  He no doubt had in mind the danger of fire occurring within the building itself."

The Manhattan Savings Institute initially leased the upper floors to the clothing firm Bierman, Heidelberg & Co.  Its catalog announced it had acquired the space "with a purpose of surpassing in elegance and convenience all that the clothing trade had hitherto known in business establishments," and added "the final touches of the decorator and cabinet makers [have] just been given to the interior."

Bierman, Heidelberg & Co. subleased space.  In 1894 Strouse & Bros., "the well-known manufacturers of 'High Art Clothing,' according to The Clothier and Furnisher, moved its showrooms in; and the following year real estate brokers M. & L. Hess were operating from the building.  In 1899 artificial feather merchants Thos. H. Wood & Co. and Albert Stein & Co. were here, and on June 6, 1903, the Record & Guide reported that the J. C. Lyons Building Co. had leased 10,000 square feet.

A 1901 receipt from clothing retailers Heidelberg, Wolff & Co. featured an etching of the building.  courtesy of Lynne Hammar

Despite the bank's monogram emblazoned on the facade, No. 644-646 Broadway became popularly known as the Bierman-Heidelberg Building.   In 1899 Isaac Bierman retired and the firm become Heidelberg, Wolff & Co.

The Manhattan Savings Institute remained in the building at least through the 1920's.  By mid-century the neighborhood had changed as fashion moved uptown and the once-elegant hotels and shops along Broadway grew seedy.  On April 30, 1959 The New York Times reported that the former Manhattan Savings Institute building, described as an "eight-story loft and manufacturing building" had been sold to Fischer-Landis investors.  "The buyers plan improvements, including new elevators and a modernized lobby," said the article.

As so often happens in Manhattan, decline turned to renaissance and in 1981 the old Manhattan Savings Institute building was converted to luxury loft apartments, two per floor above a ground floor restaurant.  The building's owner was Martin Fine, a lawyer who also installed his Blue Willow restaurant in the ground floor.  He told The New York Times columnist John Duka in January 1984 "A few of us bought buildings [in the neighborhood] because we knew that someday the area would be hot."

One of those apartments appeared in Woody Allen's 1986 film "Hannah and Her Sisters" as the set for the movie's memorable catering scene, and another in the 1989 film "Ghostbusters" as the home of Bill Murry's character, Dr. Peter Venkman.   

Patch repairs were made to the facade in 1987 and again in 1992; however seven years later it became obvious that a more substantial restoration was necessary.  Walter B. Melvin Architects, LLC, was contracted to stabilize and restore the façade.  Specially formulated coatings were applied to unify the façade and prevent water intrusion.  The cast iron balconies were removed, stripped and rebuilt with stainless steel joints.

The monogram MSI is still evident within the pediment.  photo by Tony Hisgett

Stephen Decatur Hatch's striking stone and brick structure survives amazingly intact; its carved details worthy of a closer inspection while passing by.

The Schepp Building - 165 Duane Street

In 1886 Finance and Industry noted "The name of L. Schepp has become a household word throughout the United States."  Leopold Schepp had come a long way in his journey to become a "household word."  He had started his career in 1851 with 18 cents his mother gave him.  He bought a dozen palm-leaf fans for 1.5 cents each, and then sold them on the Third Avenue street cars for 5 cents.  He later said "They sold so fast that the third day I hired three other boys on commission and soon I was making $15 a week."  By 1871 he had established the importing firm of L. Schepp & Co., and two years later focused his attention on coconuts--a food item mostly overlooked in America.

Schepp made the ungainly coconut both marketable and convenient by developing a process of drying and shredding it.  Finance and Industry explained "his excellent process renders the meat of the cocoanut more easily digestible, and is the only party that has made the process of business a success."  Sold in tins, his desiccated coconut made him a fortune and he essentially cornered the coconut market in America.

On March 23, 1880 Schepp purchased the five buildings which made up the northwest corner of Duane and Hudson Streets.  Within the month architect Stephen Decatur Hatch filed plans for "one eight-story and mansard roof brick store."  The projected cost, $150,000, coupled with the $45,000 Schepp had paid for the site, brought the project to nearly $4.75 million in today's dollars.

sketch from Finance and Industry, 1886, (copyright expired)

By its completion in 1882 the 8-story building had grown to 10 floors, capped by a striking corner mansard tower.  Putting a tag on the architectural style is a challenge, indeed.  Above the stone base the red brick structure exhibited a raft of influences.  The second floor openings, with the polished granite columns and voussoirs of alternating red and black brick smacked of Ruskinian Gothic; sawtooth brick courses and terra cotta tiles drew from Queen Anne; there were elements of neo-Grec, and the upper floors were heavily Romanesque Revival.  And then there was the French Second Empire mansard and tower.

Although Schepp leased out some space--candy makers Green & Blackwell signed a nine year lease in 1882 for instance--his massive operation required nearly the entire building.  He employed about 150 workers in the Duane Street factory, and each of his ships carried from 300,000 to 500,000 coconuts at a time from Central America, where he operated 21 "trading stations."

Interestingly, Schepp did not pay for his coconuts; the natives who harvested them had no use for currency.  Finance and Industry explained "there are several thousand Indians, whom he supplies with the necessaries of life through the various trading-posts, they giving him in return cocoanuts, ivory nuts, tortoise shell, cocoa, coffee, etc."  (The additional items created a side-line, of sorts, and Schepp sold the raw tortoise shell for as much as $6 per pound.)

Schepp's tins and advertisements routinely featured playful monkeys, as on this trade care.

Although wealthy and influential, Schepp retained some of the rough-edged aspects from his days of a street youth.  He was known for his "unparliamentary language," as described by The New York Times, and for his temper, which the same newspaper said "would make the North Pole melt."

That temper came into play in 1889 when the Colombian Government began interfering with American trade.  It started on October 2 when the gunboat La Popa seized The Pearl, a schooner owned by New York City merchant James Herron.  "She was taken to Carthagens and held subject to confiscation for smuggling," reported the Pittsburgh Dispatch.

Shortly after The Julian was overtaken and towed to Carthagens, "and there she now lies, with her captain and crew prisoners," and when Foster & Co. sent a second vessel, the Edith B. Coombs, to retrieve its perishable cargo, that ship, too, was captured.

Although the State Department began diplomatic negotiations, Leopold Schepp had no time for that.  On January 1, 1890 the Pittsburgh Dispatch reported "The firm of L. Schell & Co., importers...has declared war against the United States of Colombia.   At least, they have sent an armed vessel to Colon and the coast of Panama, with instructions to make forcible resistance if the gunboat La Popa, which recently seized several trading vessels, should attempt to interfere with her."

The article continued, "L. Scheff & Co. have promptly taken the law into their own hands, without bothering with the slow processes of the State Department at Washington."  Schepp outfitted the firm's schooner George W. Whitford with "two cannon, rifles and revolvers and plenty of ammunition."  The show of force worked.  At least for now.

Just when Schepp most likely felt things were back to normal, the George W. Whitford was seized by Colombia on March 31, 1896.  As Washington negotiated, Leopold Schepp blamed his own Government allowing the thuggery.  On April 15 The Sun reported "Mr. Schepp said last night that only vessels flying the American flag were subjected to insult and annoyance by the Colombian Government.  This was due, he said, to the fact that the war ships of other nations, principally of Germany and England, frequently appeared in Colombian ports, whereas an American man-of-war was almost unknown."  Schepp added "We trust the day is not far distant when we will have a navy large enough to command respect in Central American for vessels that fly the American flag."

The George W. Whitford was finally released on April 20; but Leopold Schepp was still fuming.  He told reporters the following day that he intended to "demand indemnity from the Colombian Government" for his expenses and lost goods.

from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Schepp's temper and domineering personality played out within the board room of No. 165 Duane Street, as well.   On February 9, 1909 he threw Vice President Payne L. Kretzmer and Secretary Herman Obertubbesing out of a board of directors' meeting, and then fired them.  They retaliated by filing suit to have a receiver take over the firm.

On April 14, 1909 The Sun reported "They apply to Leopold Scheff an assortment of adjectives, among which are 'overbearing, exacting, domineering and insolent.'"  When, they asserted, they had disagreed with him in the meeting, he said that "until they should comply he would use his full power, force, potency and influence to oppress, coerce, overbear and compel them do to so."

Among the items with which they took issue was the Schepp Building itself, still personally owned by Schepp.  "The complaint says that Mr. Schepp stated that the corporation should and would buy the property from him at $600,000 and that he told the plaintiffs that if they opposed the sale they would be forced out of the company."  The men described it as "antiquated and rated in the lowest class by the Building Department, and classified by underwriters as a 'fire trap.'"

Schepp characterized his former employees as "exceedingly ungrateful."

Following World War I the wholesale shoe district was taking over the immediate neighborhood around the Schepp Building.  At the same time the L. Schepp & Co. operation was scaling back.  In 1920 Rich & Hutchins, Inc., wholesale shoe dealers, leased five floors--half of the building--including the ground floor stores.

Leopold Schepp was 83-years old in 1925 when he decided to distribute his massive fortune now, rather than after his death.  On March 16 he handed an office boy a check for $500.  The head stenographer, who had been with the firm 14 years, received $3,000.  Another got $1,000 and the loyal clerk who had served Schepp for 21 years received $5,000, the equivalent of $67,500 today.

Two days later Schepp announced his intention to spend $2.5 million to establish a foundation for New York boys between 13 and 16 years old that would provide them "with means to prepare themselves for useful careers."  The boys would be required to "pledge themselves to abstain from bad habits, to obey the laws of the State and nation, and to be considerate in their treatment of others."  If, after two years, they kept the pledge, they would receive $200 to be used to either start a business or finish their educations.  By October he had funded $4.5 million to his Schepp Foundation for Boys.

The publicity produced unexpected ramifications.  On July 23, 1925 The New York Times ran the headline "Thousands Swamp Schepp With Pleas / Philanthropist Decamps to Escape Army Seeking to Spend His Money."   The article said "When clerks came to open the office at 8:30 they had to make their way through a throng of money-seekers at the door.  Five telephone trunk wires were jammed all the forenoon with calls from persons who wished to convince Mr. Schepp that he could find no better mark for the benefactions than themselves." 

Bags of mail contained thousands of letters from across the country.  A separate office was leased and a "corps of secretaries" was hired, tasked with manning the phones and reading through the "great heaps of communications."   The Times said "Letters and telegrams were arranged under the following classifications...1. Bona fide suggestions 2. Needy poor.  3. Young men requesting money for college education.  4. Job seekers.  5.  'Nuts' and 'cranks.'  6.  Charitable institutions seeking additional endowment, to which Mr. Schepp already has said he did not intend to contribute.

Requests included one from a 40-year old woman who wanted $4,000 to "persuade her beloved to marry her," an undertaker who needed a new hearse, a request for a "fund for middle-aged spinsters 'better to maintain their accustomed position in life, their self-respect and their happiness,'" and dozens from people who said they had been swindled.

Leopold Schepp died following a mild stroke on March 11, 1926.    The following year a renovation and modernization of the Schepp building was done.  It was most likely at this time that the outdated, Victorian mansard tower was removed.  Just months later a structural failure created a dramatic and dangerous situation.

In 1930 the operations of L. Schepp & Co. were noticeably curtailed.  Employees worked only four days a week; a situation that most likely saved lives on June 27.  At 11:00 that morning a 20,000 gallon water tank, weighing about 200 tons, crashed through the roof and continued through the tenth and ninth floors.  A flood deluged the lower floors where about 100 men and women were working.  Amazingly, no one was injured.

"Workers on the lower floors were startled by a dull rumble that suddenly changed to a thunderous roar as the huge tank crashed through the roof of the building and dropped to the ninth floor, twisting girders in its path," reported The Times.  "The workers fled to hallways and stairways, and were thoroughly soaked before they reached the street."   Two men were taking a load of coconut to a freight elevator when the shaft turned into a "miniature Niagara."  The newspaper said "When they ran out to the street, shouting for help, they were covered with shredded cocoanut and dirt and passersby got the impression that they had been tarred and feathered."

Department of Buildings investigators found two other water tanks "tilted at precarious angles."  Only a year after the substantial renovations the building had to undergo extensive work again.

The 1927 update left a blunt tower blunt and considerably diluted the building's personality.  photo by Edmund Vincent Gillon from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York 

In 1937 L. Schepp & Co. ceased operation.  By then the building had a variety of smaller tenants.  One, the Central Machinery and Supplies Company was indicted in June 1936 in a conspiracy to sell counterfeit automobile parts.  In 1940 the newly-formed publishing firm of Burstein & Chappe moved in.  That year it published seven books including one novel, a single-volume encyclopedia, and a "popular home medical book."  By 1945 Allied Carbon & Ribbon Mfr. Corp. was in the building, flexing its wartime patriotism with the slogan "Allied for Victory!"

Central Machinery and Supplies was not the only tenant that would find itself on the wrong side of the law.  On February 18, 1959 The New York Times reported that Seymour Eichengrun and Abe Siegel, vice president and president respectively of the Star Looseleaf Company had pleaded guilty for providing a $700 bribe to Robert Breshlian, business agent of Local 210, International Brotherhood of Teamsters.  Assistant U.S. Attorney Donald H. Shaw said the money was for "advice and union favors."

The last quarter of the 20th century saw the Tribeca renaissance arrive at No. 165 Duane Street.  In 1977 Bragr Times regularly staged poetry readings here.  And in 1981 the upper floors, where coconuts for decades had been dried and shredded, were converted to apartments.

The Schepp Building received star status when chef David Bouley opened his French Provencal-style restaurant, Bouley, at street level in August 1987.  The famous destination restaurant would remain in the space until 1996.  It was replaced in 1999 by the Northern Italian restaurant, Scalini Fedeli New York,

In the meantime, a half-million dollar restoration of the roof was initiated in 1991.   The project, headed by architect Kevin Bone, focused on the slate roof and dormers.  Sadly, restoring the lost mansard tower was not in the budget.

That same year the building played a part in the emerging Gay Rights Movement.  The co-op board refused to allow two unmarried men to co-own an apartment.  The applicants sued, charging the board based their denial on their being "unmarried and homosexual."  The city's Human Rights Commission agreed, saying "probable cause existed to credit the allegations."  As a result, the board expanded its definition of "spouse," to include "domestic partner."

There are just four apartments per floor in the sprawling Schepp Building.  While it still commands attention after more than 135 years; its wonderful corner tower is a significant missing piece.

photographs by the author