The New York City Hall of Records

Surrogate’s Court, 31 Chambers Street, Manhattan, February 8, 1938. Department of Bridges, Plant & Structures Photograph Collection. NYC Municipal Archives

On October 12, 2021, Municipal Archives digitization specialist Matt Minor presented an illustrated history of the Surrogate’s Court for DORIS’ “Lunch and Learn” program. As he reminded the audience, the original name of the building was the Hall of Records. It was the first purpose-built records hall for the City. The following is a condensed version of his talk.

Prior to its construction, the City stored its records in a colonial-era building near City Hall, which had served as a prison during the Revolutionary War. At the end of the 19th century, New Yorkers began to think that perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to store the City’s paper records in a wood and stucco building and light it with gas lamps. They urged the construction of a fireproof building to replace it. However, it was a back burner project, with other needs taking greater priority.   

The old Hall of Records, demolished 1903. Municipal Archives Photograph Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

In particular, City Hall was crumbling. Its original marble façade did not weather well outdoors in the New York climate. By the late 1890s, the City had resolved to tear the building down and build a new one, so they opened up a competition, allowing architects to submit designs for a new City Hall.

John Rochester Thomas won the competition. Born in Rochester, N.Y. in 1848, Thomas began studying architecture as a teenager, and started his professional career at the age of 20. When he submitted his designs for a new City Hall, he was already well-established. He was known for grand buildings in classical styles, while using modern engineering techniques to allow for large, open interiors. 

Another excellent example of Thomas’s work is the Second Reformed Church, now Ephesus Seventh Day Adventist Church in Harlem. 1940 Tax Photograph. NYC Municipal Archives.

For the new City Hall, Thomas chose a French Second Empire/Beaux Arts style of architecture. Some hallmarks of this style are a floor plan based on squares and right angles, a steeply pitched roof that is flat on top, channeled rustication, rich decoration, and lots of doors and passages connecting adjacent rooms. At the time, this style was favored for a reason. New York was not seen as the major cultural center it is today. The general attitude was that if you wanted culture, you needed to go to Paris or other European cities. Many New Yorkers wanted to change that.  Grand, monumental architecture was one way to raise the cultural profile of the City, and campaigns like the City Beautiful movement pushed for the construction of impressive buildings. 

Before the new City Hall could be built, though, the State Legislature passed a law protecting the old City Hall as a historic building. (Ultimately, the City Hall façade would be redone in limestone in the 1950s.)  But the City truly loved Thomas’s design, and since it called for a building made almost entirely out of stone, it was ideal for a new Hall of Records. Thomas adjusted the design accordingly.

Construction began in 1899 and was not complete until 1911. The exterior was made of Hallowell granite from Maine. The interior used various types of marble: Siena from Italy, Bleu Belge from Belgium, Tennessee pink, red Numidian from Africa, and white marble from other sources. For the courtrooms that had been added to the building, English oak and Dominican mahogany were imported. Custom furniture, fireplaces, and bronze light fixtures were made by Remington & Sherman. 

The firehouse at 49 Beekman Street is a good example of Horgan & Slattery’s work. 1940 Tax Photograph. NYC Municipal Archives.

Originally estimated to cost about $4.5 million, the building ended up costing the city nearly $7 million, which would be around $200 million today. The expense made the project controversial. At the outset of his term, Mayor Robert Van Wyck set his sights on cutting construction budgets, and the 31 Chambers Street project was a prime target. Saying, “we don’t want an opera house made out of what is intended to be an office building,” Van Wyck brought in an outside architecture firm to review the plans and suggest cuts. 

Arthur J. Horgan and Vincent J. Slattery were known for small-scale projects like firehouses and townhouses. At the mayor’s urging, they reviewed Thomas’s plans and recommended huge cuts. Large and built of expensive Siena marble, the grand staircase in the rotunda was a particular target of criticism, and Horgan & Slattery recommended replacing it with metal stairs.  However, while Thomas did make some changes, he successfully defended his design, and the cornerstone was laid in 1901. Later that year, though, tragedy struck when John Thomas suddenly died at the age of 53. Seizing the opportunity, Mayor Van Wyck appointed Horgan & Slattery as architects of the building. What Van Wyck didn’t expect was that Horgan & Slattery would follow Thomas’s vision, not their own previous recommendations. Not known for large-scale projects, they were eager to put their name on 31 Chambers Street. When new mayor Seth Low came into office, Horgan & Slattery chose not only to adhere to Thomas’s plan, but in fact decided to add more elaborate artwork than he had intended. But the building would face more obstacles. 

Due to their association with Tammany Hall, Horgan & Slattery were hugely unpopular in the press. They also ran afoul of the Art Commission. This newly formed City agency set about rejecting nearly every art proposal H&S presented. Sculptures by Henry Kirke Bush-Brown, Philip Martiny, and Albert Weinert were rejected and re-submitted multiple times before acceptance.  Irritated, Horgan & Slattery harshly criticized the Art Commission in the press, claiming the Commission had unknowingly rejected works by the old masters submitted as a test. The next day, the architects sent an apologetic letter denying having made the comments. A smear campaign was clearly not the way to go. In 1903, they decided to bring in a ringer, someone the Art Commission wouldn’t—perhaps couldn’t—reject. 

William De Leftwich Dodge was a muralist and mosaicist. Though American-born, he had studied in Paris at the École des Beaux Arts and the Académie Colarossi. His work bridged the gap between classic and modern, and his French education made him high-profile among American artists. While the other artists had submitted and resubmitted their work, writing letters explaining their intent, Dodge submitted just one set of sketches. In his application form, he described the work he intended to create as a “marble mosaic, with the introduction of a small portion of glass mosaic, where brilliancy is necessary.” The commission approved it immediately. [Mr. Minor’s blog Hall-of-records-Where-Brilliancy-is-Necessary provides more information about the mosaics.] 

Capricorn and Sagittarius separated by a Greco-Egyptian figure, from William De Leftwich Dodge’s massive mosaic. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives.

Capricorn and Sagittarius separated by a Greco-Egyptian figure, from William De Leftwich Dodge’s massive mosaic. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives.

When the building opened, it was hailed as an architectural gem. Its style was Parisian and cultured. It’s scale grand and striking. Visitors were particularly impressed by the main rotunda, with its grand staircase and porticoes carved of Siena marble, and its brass barrel vault skylight.  This area is particularly beautiful around midsummer when the midday sun shines directly in and illuminates the prominent landing of the grand staircase. Technologically, 31 Chambers was innovative, boasting electricity, running water, elevators, and a small power plant in the sub-basement.   

The main rotunda of 31 Chambers Street. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives.

Over time, though, appreciation waned. In 1961, the City widened Centre Street. The eastern entrance of the Hall of Records was in the way, so demolition crews tore up the sidewalk, removed the eastern staircase and Philip Martiny sculptures, and permanently closed the entrance.  Five years later, the Landmarks Preservation Commission landmarked the building.  Fortunately, Martiny’s works were preserved and moved behind 60 Centre Street. 

Philip Martiny’s sculptures Authority and Justice now reside behind the courthouse at 60 Centre Street. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives.

Philip Martiny’s sculptures Authority and Justice now reside behind the courthouse at 60 Centre Street. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives.

Philip Martiny also sculpted the two large sculptural groups flanking the main entrance on Chambers Street, as well as several sculptures near the roof. Other sculptures near the top of the building were sculpted by Henry Kirke Bush-Brown.

The dormer over the main entrance.  Top row: an owl flanked by two cherubs. Second row left to right: Philosophy, the Four Seasons, and Poetry by Henry Kirke Bush-Brown. Third row left to right: Maternity and Heritage also by Bush-Brown. Bottom row left to right: DeWitt Clinton, Abram Stevens Hewitt, Philip Hone, and Peter Stuyvesant by Philip Martiny. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives

The dormer over the main entrance.  Top row: an owl flanked by two cherubs. Second row left to right: Philosophy, the Four Seasons, and Poetry by Henry Kirke Bush-Brown. Third row left to right: Maternity and Heritage also by Bush-Brown. Bottom row left to right: DeWitt Clinton, Abram Stevens Hewitt, Philip Hone, and Peter Stuyvesant by Philip Martiny. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives

The other areas of the building visitors are keen to see are the courtrooms. New York County is one of the only counties in the State with two Surrogates (probate court judges); 31 Chambers Street was designed to accommodate both judges. The north courtroom interior is English oak, with five carved allegorical panels, representing Civilization, Wisdom, Force, Degradation, and Truth. The south courtroom is done in Dominican mahogany with a more spartan style. Both rooms feature carved marble fireplaces and crystal chandeliers, and both include carved wooden screens behind the judge’s bench by artist Bruno Louis Zimm. 

The North Courtroom. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives.

The North Courtroom. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives.

North Courtroom panel, “Wisdom”. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives

North Courtroom panel, “Wisdom”. Photograph by Matt Minor. NYC Municipal Archives

When it opened in 1911, the building at 31 Chambers Street was the City’s Hall of Records and remains so today. In fact, the building itself is a record. Its artwork records the ideals and aspirations of an essentially new city following the Consolidation of the five boroughs. Its architecture shows the innovation of the modern era. Its scars, blemishes, and repairs record over a century of continuous use as a center of local government.   

The main entrance on Chambers Street, with original Hall of Records inscription, November 11, 1909. Department of Buildings, Plant & Structures Photograph Collection. Photographer: Eugene de Salignac. NYC Municipal Archives.