photo by Alice Lum |
In 1876 the West Side of Manhattan north of 42nd
Street was rapidly developing. Cardinal
McCloskey recognized that “a parochial district was demanded by the growth of
the city in that direction,” as explained by The Evening World twelve years
later. The Plymouth Baptist Church on
West 51st Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues was available, and
the Catholic Church purchased it for $24,500.
Another $1,000 was spent “in fitting it up for the Catholic worship,”
said The Evening World, and on June 25, 1876 the Church of the Sacred Heart of
Jesus was dedicated.
Before the first service was concluded, it was obvious that
the current structure would not be sufficient.
The church building was relatively new; but it accommodated only about
900 worshipers. In his remarks during
the dedication, Vicar-General Quinn “urged the people of the parish to build a
larger structure, for it was easily seen that the church he had opened would
soon be too small for the growing demands of the parish,” reported The Evening
World.
Father Martin J. Brophy was selected by the Cardinal to head
the parish. He immediately started fund
raising efforts and purchased land along the 51st Street block in
anticipation of upcoming building projects.
In October 1880 construction on the pastoral residence was begun on the
plot abutting the church.
Three years later Brophy was ready to tackle the larger task—the
building of a new church. Two days
before Christmas in 1883 The New York Times reported “The Rev. Martin J.
Brophy, Rector of the Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, in West
Fifty-first-street, has perfected his arrangements to build an edifice of
sufficient size for the wants of his congregation. This work will be commenced at an early day.”
Brophy had put together a building plot 81 feet along 51st
Street, extending back 100 feet. Architects
Napoleon Le Brun & Sons were commissioned to design the new structure.
Having moved to New York from Philadelphia around 1861, Le Brun busied himself
not only with designing several other churches but with the fire houses of the
New York Fire Department for which he had been official architect since 1879.
The architects were tasked with designing a space capable of
seating a congregation which, at the time. Father Brophy estimated at about
11,000. The Times reported that the
church would be “constructed of stone and brick, with seats for 1,500 persons…For
the greater accommodation of the people, the old church will be used as long as
possible.” The fund-raising had been
successful and the estimated cost of $100,000 was already in the bank.
On Sunday, March 30, 1884, Father Brophy celebrated the final
mass in the old building and the following morning demolition began. By July 13 the walls were up. That afternoon a “very large crowd,” as described
by The New York Times, assembled for the cornerstone laying ceremonies. Flags “of all the nations” decorated the
church walls and the platform as 30 priests and 20 altar boys took part in the
impressive service. The Archbishop
sprinkled the walls with holy water, the normal psalms and prayers were
recited, and the lead box was placed into the cornerstone and sealed.
Construction continued for another year. On May 16, 1885, as the building neared
completion, Archbishop Corrigan was back to consecrate the “three magnificent
marble altars,” as described by The New York Times.
The custom-built organ, which along cost $10,000 (about $234,000 today),
was also nearly completed.
The day following the consecration of the altars, the new
Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus was dedicated and blessed. According to The Sun on May 18, 1885, “Two
thousand persons were present.” The
choir consisted of a double quartet with a chorus of 150 voices. The newspaper reported that the completed
structure had come in just above budget at $125,000.
The Evening World reported that “the appointments throughout
are elegant and artistic, the interior of the church itself being one of the handsomest
and most imposing in the city.”
photograph from "The Catholic Church in the United States of America", 1914 (copyright expired) |
Napoleon LeBrun & Sons had produced a red brick beauty touted by architectural critics as vaguely “Venetian.” The architects trimmed the hefty structure
with limestone and terra cotta; a Romanesque Revival show stopper with touches of
Gothic and Moorish.
Large areas of terra cotta, like textile, create a visually-tactile contrast to the brick and the carved stone trim -- photo by Alice Lum |
Father Brophy continued on with his expansion projects. In May 1887 he purchased four houses on 51st
Street near the church for $72,000 in preparation for the erection of a large
parochial school. On January 31, 1888
The Evening World remarked “Father Brophy is famous for his executive ability
and business tact, and it is worthy of note that during the past year, besides
meeting all the running expenses and paying interest on mortgages, he has
reduced the debt of the church $30,000.”
The mostly Irish and German congregation of the Church of
the Sacred Heart of Jesus was one of the largest in the city. The combined political power of such a large
group did not escape the notice of the clergy and in 1894 eyebrows were raised
city-wide when news leaked out that the priests were using the pulpit to sway
voters.
The pastor was now Father Joseph Mooney, Vicar General of
the Diocese of New York, and he diplomatically avoided celebrating mass on
November 4, 1894, while the other priests stumped from the pulpit. The next day The New York Times reported that
political speeches were made by the priests at all masses except the one for
children.
“The remarks made by the officiating clergymen created a
sensation among the members of the congregation, most of whom live in the
Eighteenth Assembly District, because all Catholics, of whatever political
faith, were entreated, almost commanded, to vote the straight Democratic
ticket.” The newspaper went on to say “it
was at first understood by those who were present or who heard of the action
taken by the Sacred Heart clergy that the whole power of the Catholic Church
throughout the city had been thrown to the side of the ticket supported by
Tammany Hall.”
Republican candidate for State Assembly Lawrence P. Mingey was
outraged. On the Saturday before Election
Day he had strong support among voters.
He told reporters that the priests, by “advising the voters in the
congregation to vote for the protection of their religion against all
candidates but those on the Democratic ticket,” cost him fully 1,000
votes. He lost the election.
The disgruntled politician fired a strong, but respectful,
letter of complaint to Archbishop M. A. Corrigan, who had denied affiliation
with Tammany Hall. In part Mingey’s
letter said:
You indignantly repudiated such a scandalous imputation upon the honor of the Church. Surely the same righteous indignation will be stirred at the established fact that one of the churches in your diocese and under your control has prostituted its holy services in assistance to the organization from the touch of which you gather your robes lest their purity be sullied.
Whether it was the church’s close proximity to the
notoriously gritty Hell’s Kitchen area, or simply a case of boys-will-be-boys;
but on February 27, 1906 the building was shamefully vandalized. Father Mooney telephoned the West 47th
Street police station that night, reporting burglars in the church. When police arrived, they found that there
were no burglars; but “small boys who had got on the roof of the church and
were throwing stones at the windows.”
The delinquents escaped when the police arrived, but not before breaking
several windows.
Prior to the turn of the century the reputation of
theatrical types often prevented their being married in tight-laced churches. By the time the boys were breaking windows in
the church the situation had relaxed. On
November 30 that year two high-profile people from the entertainment world were
wed in the Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
Frederic Thompson had become famous along with his partner
Skip Dundy through their over-the-top entertainment projects. They had created the massive Hippodrome on
Sixth Avenue; conceived and built Luna Park; and, as described by The Sun, designed
and built “similar wonders at the Chicago, Atlanta and Buffalo expositions.”
At 19-years old, actress Mabel Taliaferro was markedly
younger than her 32-year old fiancé of two weeks. She was raised in a stage family and was
known as a child actress. At the time of
her quiet wedding here, she was playing in Pippa Passes at the Majestic
Theatre. New York audiences had
previously seen her in Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch and The Little
Princess.
It was not the grandeur of the ceremony—the only witnesses
to the wedding were Thompson’s brother-in-law and his chauffeur—but the fact
that it involved two celebrities that earned it a spot in the newspapers.
photo by Alice Lum |
Joseph F. Mooney was eagerly anticipating the visit of
Archbishop Giovanni Bonzano, the new Papal Delegate, to New York who was
scheduled to arrive on May 3, 1912. Now
elevated to Monsignor, Mooney still held his position as Vicar-General and
would play an important part in the Archbishop’s reception.
Three days before the arrival, on April 30, Monsignor Mooney
was riding in a taxi when it skidded into a parked automobile. Shards of flying glass struck the priest’s
head, inflicting a two-inch gash over his right temple. The Sun reported “This wound has been
dressed, but the doctors have insisted that Mgr. Mooney remain absolutely
quiet. Mgr. Mooney will not be able to take
part in the reception of Archbishop Bonzano.”
If Mooney was dejected over his bad luck; perhaps he was
less so when Bonzano, along with Cardinal Farley, Monsignor Ceretti of Washington
and Monsignor Lewis arrived at the Sacred Heart of Jesus Rectory to pay a
personal visit on May 4.
When Cardinal John Murphy Farley died on September 17, the
70-year old Monsignor Mooney became temporary head of the archdiocese, in
addition to his role as pastor of Sacred Heart.
The Evening World reported the following day, “With the death of
Cardinal Farley, Mgr. Joseph F. Mooney automatically becomes administrator of
the archdiocese of New York.” The
newspaper added that he “has the title of prothonotory apostolic from the
Vatican.”
To show their respect for Mooney, more than 3,000 Catholic
men filed into the church on the morning of March 9, 1919 to attend Holy
Communion. “The service is in connection
with a testimonial being offered the Monsignor on the occasion of this twenty-fifth
anniversary as spiritual director of the Archdiocesan Union of the Holy Name
Society,” explained The Sun.
A more worldly token of appreciation came to Mooney in June
1921. The monsignor had been
hospitalized since November 7, 1920; however he had improved to the point that
doctors felt he could attend mass at Sacred Heart of Jesus for his golden
jubilee as a priest. Mooney had been
rector of the church since 1890.
On June 3, 1921 the New-York Tribune reported that “as a
mark of the high esteem in which he is held,” he was being presented with a
gift of $10,000 (about 12 times that much in today’s dollars). The newspaper added “He also will be
presented with an automobile. The car
will be the gift of the clergy of the Catholic archdiocese of New York.”
An unspeakable tragedy occurred on April 22, 1922. Nine-year old Vincent Jennings received his Confirmation
in the church that morning. Less than an
hour after the service, he was struck by a delivery truck a block away at the
corner of Tenth Avenue and 52nd Street. The truck driver rushed the boy to Roosevelt
Hospital where he was pronounced dead on arrival.
Just before 11:00 on the night of May 13, 1923, the Right
Rev. Monsignor Joseph F. Mooney died in the rectory. He had suffered a succession of paralytic
stroke which left him wheel chair bound.
The 83-year old priest’s passing would trigger the most impressive
ceremonies to take place in the Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
His body was laid in state in the church the next day and
The New York Times reported that it “was viewed by thousands of the venerable
pastor’s parishioners.” On May 16 a
solemn pontifical mass of requiem was celebrated by Archbishop Patrick J.
Hayes. There was not enough space within
the church to accommodate the crowd, estimated at between 10,000 and
15,000. In addition “thirty-one hundred
boys and girls of the Sacred Heart parochial School lined Fifty-first Street,
from Ninth Avenue to Tenth Avenue, in accordance with Mgr. Mooney’s dying wish,”
reported The New York Times.
Flags throughout the parish were flown at half-staff and
American flags were flown from hospitals, tenement and apartment house windows,
and other facilities. More than 300
priests were in attendance, along with three bishops and more than two dozen monsignors.
Several times Monsignor Mooney had refused elevation to
Bishop due to, according to newspapers, “his modesty and humility.” Nevertheless, he was dressed in the vestments
of a bishop in his coffin.
In 1930, as now, the church posed an imposing presence on the block -- photograph from the collection of the New York Public Library |
A disturbing set of events started during the 10:00 mass on
July 22, 1934. About 500 worshipers were
in the church when smoke wafted into the sanctuary. Rev. Cletus McCarthy sent an altar boy to
investigate. The boy found fire fighters
tackling a blaze in the Sacred Heart School.
When Father McCarthy realized that the congregants were not in danger,
he continued services. Fire fighters
estimated the damage to the school building at about $1,500. “The blaze was believed to have been of
incendiary origin,” reported The New York Times.
Exactly one week later another fire started, this time in
the church basement directly under the altar.
While priests groped through the dense black smoke to rescue the Blessed
Sacrament and sacred vessels, firemen flooded the basement with three inches of
water. Once again the fire marshal
deemed the fire “of suspicious origin.”
More damaging to the interior of the church than any fire
were the ramifications of the 1965 Vatican Council. Witnesses reported that the marble altars were smashed with
sledgehammers. The Stations of the Cross were demolished and the Victorian LeBrun
interiors were savagely modernized. It
was most likely at this time that the great rose window was bricked up. The entrance doors at some point were
discarded, to be replaced with unsympathetic glass panels with modern etched
designs more expected in a restaurant than a church.
The replacements to LeBrun's Victorian entrance doors could best be described as hideous -- photo by Alice Lum |
Today the neighborhood is ethnically diverse and one Sunday
Mass is celebrated in Spanish. The
Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus continues its important role in the community,
participating in the Feeding Our Neighbors project that replenishes food
pantries.
The exuberant 1885 structure is no less imposing on the
quiet 51st Street block today than it was 130 years ago. Despite the regrettable attempts at improving
its unimprovable design, it remains a fantastic treasure.
photo by Alice Lum no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com |
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