The 1883 Wiehl & Widmann Bldg. No. 18 Beaver Street

photo by Alice Lum

In 1883 the old building at No. 18 Beaver Street was about to come down.  For years it had been used by businesses like Barnstorf & Co., importers of fruits.  But now German-born  restaurateurs Alfred Wiehl and Eugene Widmann laid plans for a new structure.  They commissioned the architectural firm of H. J. Schwarzmann & Co. to design and erect their new “four-story brick and brown stone store and restaurant,” as described by The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide on August 18, 1883.  Schwarzmann estimated the cost at around $20,000; or about $450,000 in today’s dollars.

Schwarzmann had been responsible for designing the Memorial Hall and the Horticultural Hall for Philadelphia’s Great Centennial Exhibition of 1876.  The official guide to the exhibition called him “a gentleman of original thought and remarkable for beautiful designing.”

Schwarzmann’s design would stand out among its functional Beaver Street neighbors.  He contrasted the red brick façade with wide courses of carved brownstone and at the fourth floor introduced pilasters dripping with ornate floral decorations.  The attic floor erupted as a Northern Renaissance Revival  gable surmounted by a statue of Hebe, the cupbearer to the gods.

photo by Alice Lum

Wiehl & Widmann quickly became a popular destination for downtown workers and seamen.  The choice of the wine-pouring goddess far above the sidewalk was well thought-out.  The Evening World would describe the establishment as “wine and lunch rooms,” while The New York Times simply called it a “wine saloon.”

However termed, the restaurant--which took up at least two floors--apparently served mostly German food to the lunching locals, washed down with ample amounts of wine.  Meanwhile, upstairs tenants like David M. Kelly filled the office spaces.  A “promoter of corporations,” he operated from an upstairs office in 1887.  Udolpho Wolfe’s Son & Co., were importers of schnapps here; and Jonathan B. Curry ran an insurance office.

One of Wiehl & Widmann’s regular patrons was produce broker Hugo Mueller.  On Wednesday May 9, 1888 Mueller had a bad day on the floor of the Produce Exchange.  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported that “he was short on wheat and lost heavily by the advance in the cereal.”  Following the close of business Mueller “went with friends to the saloon, 18 Beaver street.”

According to the newspaper “Wine flowed freely.  Mr. Mueller remarked that he heard angels singing and added that he would inside of six hours be where he could see them, and poured some of Weyeth’s morphine pills, it is thought, out of a small vial into a glass of champagne and swallowed the contents.”

Mueller was taken home in a friend’s coupe, where he died in his bed later that evening.  Alfred Wiehl testified at the coroner’s inquest on May 18 that “Mueller, while at his place, mixed a powder with his wine and afterward became flushed and drowsy,” said a newspaper.

The stone trim has been painted white.  photo by Alice Lum

It would not be the last of the tragic deaths connected with Wiehl & Widmann’s.  Anna Schmidt was described by The Evening World as “a comely German girl, employed as a pantry girl in Wiehl & Widman’s [sic] lunch rooms.”  In 1891 she caught the eye of 22-year old Henry Schmidt (who was not related). 

When his brother, Julius, “paid her attentions,” Henry—who made his living as a cooper--became jealous.  On September 7, 1893 The New York Times explained “The rivalry between the brothers caused a great deal o trouble.  Anna preferred Julius, and told Henry to cease annoying her.”  The jilted lover left New York for New Orleans.  But two years later, in August 1893, he returned.

On the night of August 24 Henry Schmidt showed up at Wiehl & Widmann “and renewed his suit,” as described by The New York Times, “but was rejected.”  The Evening Worldreported “According to Anna he thereupon tried to drown his grief with drink.”   Around 7:40 that evening he walked into the rear yard of the restaurant and shot himself in the temple.  He died two weeks later on September 6.

The fact that Alfred Wiehl was so well liked was possibly because of the extraordinary efforts he sometimes made for his friends.  Among the seafaring patrons of Wiehl & Widmann was German Captain Kurt von Geossel.  The captain and Wiehl established a strong personal friendship and Mrs. Von Geossel was even a house guest of the Wiehls for a month in 1893.

Two years later, on January 31, 1895, The Evening Worldreported “There was gloom at the famous restaurant of Wiehl & Widmann, 18 Beaver street, this morning.  This was a favorite resort with Capt. Von Goessel, who is supposed to have gone down on his vessel, and there was a strong bond of friendship between the skipper and A. Wiehl.”

Capt. Kurt von Goessel was lost in a tragic maritime accident -- The Illustrated American, February 16, 1895 (copyright expired)

The vessel was the North German steamer Elbe and its sinking the night before would later be called by The Cyclopedic Review of Current History“One of the most appalling of recent disasters at sea.”  The Elbewas struck by the British steamer Crathieand sank within 20 minutes—taking with it 335 lives.  

The Evening World said “Mr. Wiehl displayed a photograph of the captain’s wife and their nineteen-year-old daughter.”

Happier news came on the night that William McKinley was elected President, when a baby was born to the Draz family, friends of Wiehl.  The baby was named in honor of the president; and as his baptism neared, Alfred Wiehl sent off a letter to the White House.

Washington’s Evening Star reported on March 19, 1897 “A funny request turned up at the White House today.  Alfred Wiehl of 18 Beaver street, New York, requested that a vial which accompanied his note be filled with water from a White House faucet, the water to be used in baptizing ‘Franze Mckinley Draz’ in New York tomorrow night.”

The Times of Washington added “Secretary Porter complied with Mr. Wiehl’s request and a bottle of White House water was immediately sent to the Metropolis in order that it might reach there in time for the christening.”

In 1907 the building was purchased by Harry K. S. Williams “of Monte Carlo, Principality of Monaco,” according to The New York Times.  That same year brothers Guido, Lucien and Albert Fusco began their own restaurant business downtown.  But for the time being Wiehl & Widmann continued on in the building they had erected nearly a quarter of a century earlier.

In 1912 the Slavic-American League had its headquarters in upper rooms of No. 18 Beaver Street.  It was here in August that year that Leonid Menstchikoff, a former member of the Russian Imperial Secret Police, told a Times reporter about corruption within the Russian police force.

“Everybody in Russian has to pay graft,” he said.  “Everything is under the supervision of the police, and the restrictions and regulations upon even legitimate business are so strict and impossible that the payment of graft is necessary to get tolerable conditions.  Here only the lawbreaker is compelled to pay graft.”

In 1913 The Real Estate Record & Guide reported that Alfred Wiehl and Eugene Widmann had hired architect Charles H. May  to renovate the restaurant.  The $300 in improvements would result in a “new grating and stairway.”  But the men would not enjoy their renovations for long.

In 1915 the Fusco Brothers moved their restaurant into the building.  It would appear that their landlord was now their partner, as well.  A few years later The New York Times would mention that Fusco Bros. “is owned by Henry K. S. Williams.”

Unlike the restaurants which were forced to close their doors with the advent of Prohibition; Fusco’s muddled on.  On July 2, 1923 the upstairs dining room was taken over by the United States Secret Service Staff for a dinner in honor of Joseph A. Palma, head of the service.  About 200 persons attended the tribute to the man The Times said “made a name for himself in rounding up counterfeiters and mail bandits.”

The restaurant’s ability to stay afloat even during Prohibition was possibly explained by a raid on Fusco’s by a “flying squad” of prohibition agents on April 14, 1926.  In reporting on the “padlock proceedings” The New York Times mentioned “Fusco Bros., situated in the heart of the financial district [is] said to be patronized by many brokers.”

The Mining Club occupied the third floor of the building until early in 1936.  A new club, the Bowling Green Midday Club, took over the vacated space.  It was a downtown businessmen’s group; and like many of the others focused greatly on providing an urbane place for lunch.

When the last of the Fusco brothers, Guido, died at the age of 77 on September 27, 1964, the Beaver Street restaurant was still going strong.  Run by his sons Mario and Guido, Jr., it survived at least until 1974

Today Wiehl & Widmann’s wine and lunch rooms are home to an Asian restaurant.  The lower floors have received a grisly modern makeover.  But the upper floors remain relatively intact.  The windows of the fourth floor have been reduced in size; but overall Schartzmann’s unique design survives.  And above it all Hebe still pours a cup of wine.

photo by Alice Lum

The Parfitt Brothers' No. 166 Fifth Avenue

photo by Alice Lum

When the wealthy Mrs. Margaret Hardenbergh Budd lived at 164 Fifth avenue, it was a residential street of wide brownstone mansions constructed, for the most part, prior to the Civil War. The widow of William A. Butt, she was one of three daughters of the celebrated Rev. Dr. James Bruyn Hardenburg .
The Hardenburgs were an old Knickerbocker family, reflected in the list of organizations to which Margaret belonged: the Historical Society, the Colonial Dames, the Holland Dames, the Huguenot Society, the Nineteenth Century Club, and the Patria Club. The New York Times would later describe her as “among the distinguished society notabilities.”

By 1890 Mrs. Budd’s children had grown and married and Fifth Avenue below 23rd Street was becoming less fashionable. She left her 1851 mansion and moved with her servants to the upscale Soncy Flats at 53 West 58th Street; retaining possession of and leasing both Nos. 164 and 166 Fifth Avenue.

This section of Fifth Avenue had already attracted several high-end art dealers and L. Crist Delmonico moved into No. 166. An esteemed dealer, Delmonico advertised “modern paintings and excellent works by leading artists.”

L. Crist Delmonico was renowned world-wide and in 1893 he lent A Sewing Bee in Holland, painted by German artist Fritz von Uhde to the Chicago World’s Columbia Exhibition, and three years later lent Fantin-Latour’s The Toilet (which had recently hung in the Salon de Champs-Elysses) to the 1896 Carnegie International Exhibition.

By the turn of the century little trace of the elite residential street remained. In 1899 Margaret Budd commissioned architectural firm Parfitt Brothers to design a commercial building in the place of the staid old home at No. 166.

Completed in 1900, the architects produced a visual confection; what the AIA Guide to New York City would deem “terra-cotta eclectic.” In fact it was a seven-story store and loft building in an adapted Northern Renaissance Revival style. Ornamented pilasters with Corinthian capitals separated the three bays of wide windows. The floors were separated by deep courses of buff colored brick. At the fifth story were arched windows and embellished spandrels under a prominent bracketed cornice.

Where once brownstone mansions stood, commercial buildings had taken over Fifth Avenue by the 1920s.  No. 166 is the third building from the corner of West 21st Street -- photo NYPL Collection

But above the cornice Parfitt Brothers pulled out all the stops. A two-story stone gable sprung from the mansard roof sprouting urns and scrolls, a circular window and a deep shell that rested like a tiara on top.

photo by Alice Lum

Two rather restrained dormers with triangular pediments peek from the mansard behind.

L. Crist Delmonico was the first tenant, moving back to the old address his clients remembered. The art gallery remained here for at least a decade before Delmonico’s death. On February 5, 1915 his personal art collection was auctioned off by the American Art Gallery.

By the 1920s No. 166 (far right) housed apparel firms.  The building in the center of the photograph is the site of Margaret Budd's mansion -- photo NYPL Collection

Throughout the 20th Century No. 166 Fifth Avenue would be home to various garment industry tenants – corset manufacturers, cloak and suit merchants – and at one time a first floor restaurant. While the upper floors remained essentially intact other than replacement windows, the ground floor façade was obliterated in the second half of the century. The arched loft entrance at the left side with its columns supporting a small balcony and the decorative detailing of the retail space were stripped off in favor of a flat veneer of colored stone slabs and plate glass.

photo by Alice Lum

Above the sidewalk level, however, No. 166 overflows with what could be called architectural entertainment – exactly what the Parfitt Brothers intended.

The Elaborate No. 574 Fifth Avenue

photo by Alice Lum

A week before Christmas in 1879 the parlor of W. B. Shattuck at No. 574 Fifth Avenue was bedecked with flowers and other elaborate decorations for the wedding of his daughter. “A huge wedding-bell of white flowers was suspended above the heads of the bride and groom in the front parlor,” reported The New York Times.

“This was flanked on either hand by a bell of red roses suspended from the ceiling. Besides these unique floral pieces, the mantel was banked deep with flowers; wreaths and festoons of smilax and flowers wound themselves about the candelabra and columns, and wedding-bells in crimson and white roses swung above the entrances to the drawing-room and dining-room, in which latter a wedding breakfast was spread.”

The Fifth Avenue wedding “has been a topic in society for the last five or six weeks,” said the newspaper. Indeed, the parlors were filled with the best names of New York society: Mrs. John Jacob Astor, Mr. and Mrs. William Astor, Mrs. William H. Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Rhinelander and Mr. and Mrs. H. Mckay Twombley among them. European nobility had come—including the Baron and Baroness de Thomsen, the Baron and Baroness Blanc, and the Marquis de Talleyrand.

Among the wedding gifts in an upper room of the mansion were displayed a solid gold tea service, a George III silver gravy tureen, a 16th century Dutch floor clock, and a silver table service. The Times called the groom, Francis Burrall Hoffman, son of Colonel Wickham Hoffman who was Charge d’Affaires at St. Petersburg, “a young gentleman of fortune, whose figure is familiar in the circle constituted by old New-York families.”

It was the sort of affair that was not uncommon behind the doors of the grand brownstone mansions of Fifth Avenue in the decade after the Civil War. But it was all to change.

Although it would be a few years before hotels and retail establishments would encroach on the residential neighborhood, the exclusive men’s clubs were filtering in. By 1885 the American Yacht Club and Atalanta Boat Club had established their clubhouse in the five-story Shattuck house and would remain until Miss A. A. Chevalier made the mansion a private home again.

In 1890, the year that Miss Chevallier held a meeting of the New York Society for Parks and Playgrounds for Children (of which she was president) in her parlor, William Waldorf Astor demolished his brownstone residence at the corner of 33rd Street. The Waldorf Hotel that replaced it was the first domino to fall that would lead to the end of Fifth Avenue as a fashionable residential neighborhood.

Eventually Miss Chevallier moved on and the house became home, for a few years, to the Engineer’s Club at the turn of the century. Then in April 1903 Jesse C. Woodhull purchased the 25-foot wide house for $230,000, with plans to “extensively alter” it for business purposes.

Woodhull commissioned architect Augustus N. Allen to refurbish the structure. Two months later The American Architect and Building News reported that the renovated building would be a “six-story shop and studio building” with a limestone façade. The renovations cost Woodhull $50,000.

The upper stories exploded in exuberant ornamentation -- photo by Alice Lum

The completed building looked nothing like the Shattuck mansion hiding behind the limestone façade. The architect created a Northern Renaissance Revival style store and loft that was amazingly similar to that completed by the Parfitt Brothers three years earlier at 166 Fifth Avenue. Highly ornamented piers and pilasters separated the windows of the four middle floors. Above a deep cornice the sixth floor an elaborate gable erupted from a steep mansard roof, encrusted with urns, finials and a decorative hooded niche.

Allen's renovation was a near-match to the Parfitt Brothers' earlier No. 166 Fifth Avenue (above) several blocks to the south --photo by Alice Lum

A year after its completion, Woodhull sold the building to investor Emma V. V. Rapallo for $350,000. Ladies’ apparel companies were filling No. 574 Fifth Avenue, like millinery importer Suchow and La Victoire Waist Lining Company. The eminent opera diva Madame Calve gushed on in a 1904 advertisement for La Victoire, saying “Your invention is a wonderful one and an invaluable improvement in grace and curves. It is in all points perfect, and saves the busy woman of to-day the time and fatigue of several fittings, which is not necessary with your lining. It enables any tasty trimmer to succeed in making a perfect fitting waist.”

Elaborately embellished pilasters and colunettes separated the upper story windows -- photo by Alice Lum

In keeping with the exclusive retail tone of Fifth Avenue, Edelhoff Brothers & Co. opened its store in the retail space here on November 1, 1905. The company dealt in “diamonds, jewelry and fancy goods.”

By January 1907 Emma Rapallo decided to cash in on her investment and sold the building to C. Grayson Martin for $410,000. Within three months Martin turned the property over for $425,000, satisfied with a quick $15,000 profit.  Rudolph M. Haan, who ran the St. Regis Hotel, was the purchaser.

The blocks of brownstone mansions along this stretch of Fifth Avenue were no more. The New York Times’ Bryan L. Kennelly remarked on the transformation in 1910. “Fifth Avenue is no longer a social centre, at least that part of it between Twenty-sixth and Fiftieth Streets. The highest class of commercial life has forced itself into this section, so that to-day it is not only the shopping thoroughfare for the wealthy of all the cities of the United States. What wealthy Western family would be satisfied with any other than Fifth Avenue’s stamp on its purchases? And what wealthy New York family would think of purchasing elsewhere?”

The top two floors of No. 574 had been the studio of renowned female photographer Aime du Pont since 1904. Ms. Du Pont advertised herself as the “photographer for smart society,” and in December 1910 she put on an exhibition of photographs of “five hundred fair women.” The photographer opened the show with a private viewing on December 6 during which tea was served. The New York Times reported that “the collection of photographs includes many society women of New York and Newport and all of the grand opera stars.”

In the meantime, Edelhoff Brothers was replaced by jewelers and silversmiths Udall & Ballou Co. in the street-level store. The firm, which also had shops on Belleview Avenue in Newport and East Flagler Street in Miami, would be here into the 1920s.

New Yorkers were stunned, on June 28, 1913, when The Evening World reported that after a small but smoky fire in the basement of the building it was discovered that over $100,000 worth of mounted gems were missing from a safe in Udall & Ballou. The jewel theft made headlines for days as the slippery crook evaded the investigation of the Detective Bureau’s Inspector Paurot.

Everyone who had been in the building that day – policemen, firemen, watchmen and shop employees—were questioned. Then on June 30 William Heck, a 21-year old employee, was questioned at Police Headquarters by none other than Police Commissioner Doughtery. After an hour and a half of questions, Dougherty left the room to bring in Detective Casassa who, said The Times, “has a reputation for being able to draw out the truth where others fall.”

Heck tip-toed to an open window and jumped ten feet to the ground below, being careful to remember to take his straw hat with him first. The young man, whom the commissioner said looked like “a little well dressed jockey,” clambered under a passing truck, held onto the frame and escaped.

Beck was captured a day later and confessed not only to the major heist, but several smaller thefts from the store, as well. The young man explained that he was in debt and needed money. “My liking for silk shirts, fine underwear and good clothes couldn’t be satisfied on my salary of $14 a week,” he explained.

Unfortunately for Beck, he got none of those items in prison.

Throughout most of the 20th century Fifth Avenue was home to the most prestigious of stores. In 1921 The Architectural Record noted “Fifth Avenue is one of the half dozen streets of the world. A part of the world seems to stream through it, and worldliness, magnificence, luxury and fashion and city life are its very essence. The shops partake of this spirit, exist because of it, and contribute to it, and Fifth Avenue merchants compete successfully with thousands of shops in New York and in other cities.”

The dignified storefront in 1921 -- The Architectural Record (copyright expired)

Nevertheless, the upper floors of No. 574 were less exclusive. That same year the Welding Promotion Company established itself here. The firm printed promotional calendars exclusively for welding companies.

In 1922, the year that The Mirror signed a 25-year lease on the entire building from Haan, Charles Frey’s salon advertised “discolored or over-bleached hair corrected with Charles Frey Instant Hair Restorer.” Free demonstrations were offered by Madame Berthe, “specialist.”

In 1930 the top floor was still a photographer’s studio, but now occupied by Lumiere Studio, run by Samuel Lumiere. A burglar on September 12 ransacked the office making off with personal items and jewelry owned by the office manager Aurelia Dittmar. Ms. Dittmar estimated the loss at $4000. The police set the amount closer to $1000.

Even the mansard roof, nearly invisible from the street, had ornamented panels -- photo by Alice Lum

In 1937 Spencer Chemists, Inc. leased the jewelry store space and basement, becoming the first drugstore on Fifth Avenue above 34th Street. Throughout the next ten years the building would be sold three times.

Beginning in the 1960s the Israel Government ran its tourism offices from here for decades. Today an Italian fast food shop operates from the much-altered ground floor space. Where diamonds and emeralds once glittered, manicotti and pizza are now served to hungry tourists.

The fanciful building, once a grand brownstone mansion, is surprisingly unchanged above street level; a delightful discovery for passersby who care to look up.