The 1896 B. Altman Stable -- Nos. 135-143 W. 18th Street

photo by Alice Lum

Victorian ladies who made purchases in Sixth Avenue’s grand emporiums that made up what was known as the Ladies’ Mile did not expect to wrestle their packages home.  Among the many services provided by the high-end stores was free delivery.   Purchases were wrapped and bundled to be sped to their destinations in attractively-painted delivery wagons; often arriving there before the lady of the house returned.

By 1896 bachelor merchant Benjamin Altman was one of the main players on Sixth Avenue.  His massive B. Altman dry goods store which stretched from 18^th to 19^thStreet catered to the carriage trade, offering gowns from Worth and Pingat of Paris and bonnets from Madame Eugenie’s and Virot’s.  Nine years earlier Altman had doubled the size of his store and added modern conveniences like elevators and electric lights.  The increased business meant increased deliveries and, therefore, a larger stable was needed.

Down the block at Nos. 135 through 143 West 18^thStreet stood the old Germania Brewery and a one-story brick stable building.  In 1893 the brewery had failed and in a foreclosure sale that year the vacant four-story brick building along with the abutting stable was sold for $93,498.

On January 13, 1896 Altman announced yet another extension of the store along with a new commodious stable building.  The New York Times reported that “Plans for one of the largest retail dry-goods establishments in the world have been filed by Kimball & Thompson, architects of the Manhattan Life Building, on behalf of B. Altman & Co., for remodeling the latter’s present establishment on Sixth Avenue, and for an addition running through the block from Eighteenth to Nineteenth Streets.”

To accommodate the extension fifteen houses would be razed.  The Times, in two exhaustingly detailed sentences, described the architecture as “Spanish Renaissance, the effect being obtained in the character and grouping of the windows, with towers at the angles, and commodious entrances from the street.  The detail will be simple, preserving a quiet, dignified effect, and, at the same time, not losing sight of the fact that a building covering such a great area must be well lighted, while there must be also secured a sense of solidity in the general effect of the exterior which can only be realized in the grouping of the windows.”

The architects were simultaneously given the task of producing a new stable for the company on the site of the existing brewery and stable.   This would be no run-of-the-mill stable building.

The machinery to run the department store was built into the basement level of the stable.  “There will be boilers of combined capacity of from 1,000 to 1,200 horse power, a number of dynamos for the lighting of the building, which will aggregate at least 6,000 sixteen-candle-power lamps; also the pumps and tanks for elevators and other necessary machinery, so that the basement of the store will be free for the handling of goods and the convenience of employes,” said The Times.

The newspaper added “The stable will be one of the most complete in this city, and the fittings will favorably compare with those of the best private stables.”

The architects’ plans to house all the machinery in the stable building rather than the store itself eliminated the possibility of fire that would endanger customers and expensive goods.

The completed stable was, to say the least, impressive.  Faced in granite and limestone, the Renaissance Revival structure stretched 125 feet wide and rose five stories with two decorative corner towers.  The two central bay doors were mimicked by flanking window openings.   The sturdy design, while undeniably utilitarian, was at the same time dignified and handsome.

photo by Alice Lum

Inside the building was a hive of activity as grooms cared for the teams of horses, leading them up and down interior ramps, feeding and watering them and tending to their well-being.   Dozens of drays were maintained, axles greased and damaged parts replaced.   Boys rushed back and forth with packages to be packed onto the delivery vehicles and shipped out to all parts of the city.  One can imagine a scene of well-orchestrated chaos.

Six years later, in 1902, Roland Macy pushed over the first domino that would eventually result in the end of the Ladies’ Mile.  He moved his department store from 6^thAvenue and 14^th Street to 34^th Street, startlingly far north of the retail district.   By this daring move he started the northward trend of department stores and Benjamin Altman would be the first to follow suit.

Package-laden drays drawn by horses came and went through the cavernous doors -- photo by Alice Lum

On December 11, 1904 The Sun reported that Altman intended to build “an enormous store” on Fifth Avenue, diagonally across from the exclusive Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.   But one Sixth Avenue retailer was unwilling to accept the tide of change.

Civil War hero Joseph B. Greenhut had joined the management of the immense Siegel-Cooper store across the avenue from Altman’s in 1896.  In 1902 he and his son Richard took control by buying out Henry Siegel.  As rumors of the impending death of the Ladies’ Mile increased, so did Greenhut’s conviction to keep the district alive.

On April 21, 1906 Greenhut, with Henry Morgenthau, purchased the 88,000-square foot Altman store for $2.5 million.  “Included in the deal also is the new granite-front stable in Eighteenth Street,” reported The Times.

A little over a year later the old Altman store was nearly ready for opening under Greenhut’s management.  In August 1907 more than 400 workmen were busy updating and renovating the building.  Greenhut focused especially on the package delivery to draw new customers.

The Times reported that “The new establishment will open Sept. 17 as the department store of Greenhut & Co., the newest thin of its kind in New York.  The store has been remodeled throughout, particularly the basement delivery department.  The facilities for expediting the delivery of packages have been greatly extended.  A tunnel runs from the basement wrapping and marking rooms under the sidewalk to the stables of the company in Eighteenth Street.”

photo by Alice Lum

Carts from the store’s basement now ran directly underground to the stable where the packages were loaded into delivery wagons and “auto trucks.”  The arrangement eliminated the need for store boys to rush along the sidewalks.  Now, assured the newspaper, packages “will not be exposed in the street for a minute until they reach their destination.”

Three years later, on March 9, 1910, the New-York Tribune announced that the store had hired architect G. W. Springsted to remodel and improve the stable building at a cost of $10,000. 

Wagon wheels were repaired on this interesting device in 1915 in the stable building -- photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3B9E31&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Greenhut’s faith in the Ladies’ Mile, despite the great expenses he poured into his buildings, eventually proved futile.    In 1914 the Siegel store failed, followed by the Greenhut company a year later.  The bankruptcy documents assessed the stable building at $124,741—about $2 million today.

The stable building was purchased by Philadelphia-based William R. Warner & Co.  On December 9, 1916 The American Contractor noted that architects Buchman & Fox had been hired to renovate the old structure at a cost of $125,000.

On May 13, 1948, little had changed to the exterior of the old stable building -- photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3B9E31&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

The Ladie’s Mile along Sixth Avenue and the adjoining blocks suffered hard times through most of the 20^th century.  The old B. Altman stables became loft space for small factories, offices and workshops.  In 1996, while the avenue was experiencing a rebirth and the grand old emporiums were being renovated and restored, the lower floors of No. 135-143 West 18^thwere used as a factory while commercial offices took up the higher floors.

Workmen do masonry repairs on June 6, 1950 -- photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3B9S6P&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Then in 1998 the building was renamed the Altman Building with 15,000 square feet of the cavernous structure revamped into an event space.   Renovated office space on the higher floors attracted new-age tenants like Eyeblaster, a provider of digital marketing services and technology.

The building that once bustled with teams of horses, deliverymen, and gowns from Paris packaged in paper-wrapped boxes survives today with, at least on the exterior, little change.

photo by Alice Lum

The 1896 Alexander Building -- No. 636 6th Avenue

Twenty-six year old Andrew Alexander opened his first shoe store on Eighth Avenue in 1857.  As the better residential areas inched northward along Fifth Avenue and to the east, the Scotch-Irish merchant recognized the retail potential of just a block to the west.  Later the Christian Nation would recall “He was among the first to note the tendency of the retail trade toward Sixth Avenue.”

In 1877 he relocated to the northwest corner of 23^rdStreet and Sixth Avenue at the northern fringe of what would soon be called The Ladies’ Mile.  Eleven blocks to the south, at Sixth Avenue and 12^th Street, was the shoe store of Alexander’s greatest competitor—Alfred J. Cammeyer.

By the beginning of the 1890s Sixth Avenue from 14^thStreet to 23^rd Street was lined with mammoth emporiums catering to New York’s carriage trade.  In September 1893 Cammeyer moved squarely into the fashionable shopping area, taking over the newly-built structure on 6^th Avenue and the southeast corner of 20^th Street.  The New York Times called it “probably the largest and best equipped boot and shoe establishment in this country, if not the world.”

Andrew Alexander would not be long in answering the challenge.  Developers Lachman, Morgenthau & Goldsmith purchased and demolished a row of seven brick rowhouses along West 19^thStreet, reaching to the corner of Sixth Avenue.  Late in 1896 their new retail structure was completed--filling the southern half of the block where the Cammeyer Building stood.  Designed by Buchman & Deisler, it was a dignified neo-Renaissance building faced in limestone and brick.  Expansive show windows at the second floor ensured that attractive merchandise caught the eye of female shoppers passing along on the 6^th Avenue El.

Restrained ornamentation preserved the dignity of Buchman & Deisler's design.

On February 5, 1897 The New York Times reported that Andrew Alexander had purchased the new building and “will take possession on March 1.”  Alexander declined to tell reporters the price he paid for the structure; but the newspaper took notice of the abutting monster shoe stores.  “He intends to abandon his old stand, at Twenty-third Street and Sixth Avenue, where he has been for twenty years, and to remove his entire stock to this new building, occupying the entire ground floor and basement.  Thus that entire block will be given over to the shoe trade.”

The building, now known as the Alexander Building, was “rated as a fire-proof structure.”  Two years after moving in, that rating would be tested.

Around 9:00 on the evening of January 18, 1899 defective insulation of electrical wires in the adjoining Cammeyer building sparked a fire in the basement.  By the time fire equipment could arrive, the blaze had spread to what The Times called an “inferno” and the store was nearly destroyed.

Andrew Alexander rushed to the scene around midnight.  “He said there was a four-foot brick wall between his building and the one on fire,” reported the newspaper, “and he did not expect to lose at all, unless in a small way from water.”  Surely enough, while Alfred Cammeyer suffered half a million dollars in damages (around $11 million today); the Alexander Building was unscathed.

In what must have been a somewhat daring full-page ad, a customer shows her maid her new shoes (and ankles!) in 1900 -- Scribner's Magazine, December 1900 (copyright expired)

Alexander was a religious and socially-conscious man.  He would serve as an elder in the Reformed Presbyterian Church on 39^th Street for nearly 50 years, was an active Sunday school worker, and a board member on the church’s Foreign Missions and Church Erection committees.  He was a member of the Board of Directors of the National Temperance Society and a member of the Presbyterian Union of New York.  His concern for his fellow man extended to his employees.

That concern manifested itself on the night of March 12, 1901.  Just as the emporiums of Sixth Avenue were closing for the night, a well-dressed woman was seen staggering along the avenue at 15^th Street.  A large crowd of unruly boys jeered and shoved her and, as she reached the corner of 19^th Street, she lost her balance and fell headlong on to the pavement.

William Parsons was a salesman at Alexander’s and he witnessed the woman’s fall.  Several people on the crowded avenue tried to help her, including Parsons.  As they were attempting to get her to her feet, rookie Policeman Neil Brown arrived on the scene.

The Times reported “Swinging his club as he shouldered his way, he ordered the crowd to clear away.  Most of them did so, but Parsons lingered for a moment.  Then it is said Brown grabbed him by the coat, hurled him out to the curb, and struck him twice on the head with his club.  Parsons protested, and for answer the policeman struck him again and pushed him back into the crowd.”

The last blow knocked Parsons unconscious and “cries of ‘Brute’ and ‘Shame’ went up from the crowd.”

Brown, who had only six months on the force, was enraged by the reaction of the throng of shoppers.  He “went at the crowd, striking men over the head, face, and arms, and striking women in the face, until the people ran in all directions, leaving him the master of the entire block.”

By now Parsons had regained consciousness and was on his feet.  The woman was still unconscious on the sidewalk when the patrol wagon arrived.  Both the woman and Parsons were loaded into the wagon and as it drove off, the crowd of infuriated witnesses and victims ran behind it.  When the wagon arrived at the station house and discharged its involuntary passengers, there was a mob of no fewer than 500 persons on the street and in the police station, according to newspaper accounts.

“There were groans and hisses from those in the room and louder noises from those without as the policeman brought in the man and woman,” said The Times.

The woman was deemed “to be utterly stupefied with drink, and she was dragged to a cell until she should be sober enough to give her name.”  Despite the hoards of protestors, Sergeant Murtha locked up the bruised William Parsons as well on the charge of interfering with an officer in the performance of his duty.  A doctor from the New York Hospital was called to dress his wounds.

While the angry crowd refused to leave the street in front of the station house; a long row of victims issued formal complaints against Officer Brown.  In the meantime Andrew Alexander had heard of the plight of his Good Samaritan employee.  He left his home at No. 14 West 47^thStreet and furnished bail for the battered salesman.

In June 1903 Andrew Alexander attended a church synod in Hopkinston, Iowa.  On July 29, as he was aboard a train heading back to New York City, he was stricken with what was most likely a heart attack.  He never recovered and on July 29 the 72-year old shoe merchant died.  His funeral was held in the 47^thStreet house a few days later.

Alexander’s will, probated a week later, reflected his charitable nature.  His estate was estimated to be around $3 million and he left substantial amounts to Presbyterian causes and $5,000 to the Board of Trustees for Indian Missions.  Interestingly, while he left $750 to his sister; he left $1,000 to one of the house servants, Margaret Lindsay.

Along with his widow, Matilda, only two daughters of his six children survived.  His will requested “that they continue his business.”

The most lavish ornamentation was reserved for the 19th Street elevation, rather than the avenue.

The business did, indeed, continue and in August 1915 a reporter for Boot and Shoe Recorder stopped by the store to see its end-of-season sale items.  “Mr. Bemis, the manager of the business, which is owned by the two daughters of the late Alfred Alexander, told me that the season now closing had been fairly satisfactory, trade keeping up well until the first of the month, while the present clearance sale was well patronized.”

Bemis did not seem to have an acute merchandising strategy.  “In women’s lines we don’t know what women will want.  We buy a few of what we think they will like, and if they go, we order more.  If they don’t sell, we’re stuck, that’s all.”

The manager blamed the unpredictability of shoe fashions on his female customers.  “Women’s tastes are so fickle that only after the season is fairly opened can we tell what they will decide upon.  But of one thing I am certain, styles will be quieter.”

Earlier that year a writer for the New-York Tribune commented on the Spring styles.  “Here I saw women’s Colonial pumps in patent colt, with medium heavy soles, especially priced at $3.  These can be had for the same price in gun metal kid.  Oxford ties with gun metal vamps and inlay sand colored backs are also $3.”  Shoppers were spending the equivalent of about $50 today on the stylish shoes.

The article reinforced the fact that Edwardian women had a broad range of shoe styles from which to choose.  “The ‘Court’ pump, a copy of one of the new smart models, has gray cloth back and gun metal vamp and is moderately priced at $3.  A specially reduced high boot has dull or patent vamp and smart dark gray top, with leather trimmings—laced--$4.35.  Satin dancing slippers in the usual evening shades cost $3.”

In 1919 Andrew Alexander opened a second store on Fifth Avenue.  Five years after the Tribune article, prices had not risen appreciably.  Boot and Shoe Recorder noted that the Sixth Avenue store offered “At $3.65 a pair, pretty slippers in colored satins; at $4.85, beaded slippers—black, white and bronze; also gold and silver cloth—all with Louis heels; and some at $4.85—oxfords for street wear.  Black and brown calf with Cuban heels.  Dull black kid and patent leather with Louis heels—all sizes in this lot.”

While nearly all of the great retailers abandoned the Ladies’ Mile for Fifth and Madison Avenues; Alexander’s would sell shoes from the Alexander Building well into the 1920s.  In 1924, after daughter Isabel Alexander Robey sold the building to the Sixth Avenue Leasing Corp., architect Herman Wolf was hired to redesign the first floor storefront.  Then in 1937 the buildings of the former shoe rivals—Cammeyer and Alexander—were joined internally.

The stretch of Sixth Avenue fell into neglect during the middle to latter parts of the 20^th century as the grand emporiums were turned into factory and small office space.  A rediscovery of the district finally came and in 1993 the Alexander Building was renovated into four floors of photo studios and offices; with a billiard parlor and lounge on the first floor.

In 2010 the Cammeyer Building was converted to 67 residential condominiums; once again separated from the Alexander Building.  A year later William Macklowe purchased the Alexander Building for $45.2 million.  Renovations continue on the building and although the street level has been obliterated, the distinguished façade above is mostly intact.  Where Edwardian women with fickle taste for footwear shopped in 1915, 21^st century sports enthusiasts browse through running shoes, shorts and tee-shirts.