On October 5 1858 fire erupted in the magnificent Crystal Palace, the glass-and-iron exhibition hall erected five years earlier. Twenty-one minutes later the world-renowned structure was a smoldering ruin.
The Crystal Palace had taken up about half of the block
between Sixth and Fifth Avenues, from 40th to 42nd Street. The eastern half, facing Fifth Avenue, held
the massive Egyptian Revival style Croton Reservoir which provided fresh water
to the city to the south. Half a decade
later it would become the site of Carerre & Hastings’ magnificent New York
Public Library. But the Crystal
Palace site would remain a park, known as Reservoir Square, as the mansions of
Manhattan’s millionaires slowly engulfed the neighborhood.
About the time of the fire, the Third Unitarian Church was
organized with the young Octavius B. Frothingham as its pastor. The New York Times would later remember “He
never wished to preach in a church, and when his society determined to build him
one in Fortieth-street, he refused to enter it until every dollar of its
indebtedness had been discharged.”
The church that Frothingham so vehemently did not want was
at Nos. 54-56 West Fortieth Street, facing Reservoir Square. While the congregation worshiped from a
rented hall at the northeast corner of Broadway and 32nd Street, it
worked feverishly to raise the funds to pay off the rising building.
The structure was completed in January 1864. On Thursday evening January 14 the trustees
held an auction for the pews. “Free
churches” (those not requiring the renting or purchase of pews) were still relatively
rare. A notice of the auction in the New
York Herald that day advised “A full and punctual attendance of the subscribers
and congregation is requested. Diagrams
of the pews will be ready on Thursday morning at the church, which will be open
during the day and evening.”
The congregation’s new Gothic Revival edifice was faced in
brownstone. Entrance doors flanked an
arcade of openings, over which rose a dramatic three-story stained glass
window. Whether he wanted it or not,
Rev. Frothingham was now the pastor of a substantial and fashionable church.
Among the pastor’s first notable ceremonies here was the
funeral of John Hopper. Like his father,
the well-known Quaker abolitionist Isaac T. Hopper, John had ardently opposed
slavery and he had been active in New York’s Underground Railroad. As early as the 1830s his reputation had
reached the deep South and on April 28, 1837 he narrowly escaped being lynched after
arriving in Savannah on business.
On July 23, 1864 the New York Herald described Hopper’s
funeral, saying that Reverend Frothingham “delivered a touching eulogy of the
deceased.” Following the services the
coffin “which was covered with wreaths and festoons of flowers, was carried
from before the pulpit outside the church, and placed immediately in the wooden
case. It was deposited in the hearse at
once; the funeral cortege formed and drove to Greenwood, where the remains were
buried beside those of his father, the late Isaac T. Hopper.”
For some former slaves, emancipation solved one problem and
caused another. Employment and financial
stability were not guaranteed by-products of freedom. And while the Civil War put an end to
slavery, it had little effect on racism.
The well-heeled congregants of Third Unitarian Church did their part to
help. On January 19, 1868 the New York
Herald reported that “A dramatic entertainment, in aid of the freedmen, was
recently given in this city by the social committee of the Third Unitarian
Church. The performance consisted of the
drama of ‘The Jacobite,’ the farce of ‘Popping the Question’ and other
novelties.”
Octavius B. Frothingham never warmed to the lavish
brownstone church. A few months after the
fund raiser for former slaves he “persuaded his followers to sell the
church and return to a hall, which he has ever advocated as far less expensive
and in every way more independent,” as reported in The New York Times.
St. Paul’s Reformed Dutch Church had been worshiping in
Lyrick Hall on Sixth Avenue at West 21st Street. On June 23, 1868 that congregation held a fund-raising
“strawberry and music festival” there. It
was most likely no coincidence that Lyrick Hall would become Third Unitarian’s
worship space.
On April 10, 1869 The New York Times reported that St. Paul’s
had purchased the Unitarian Church. “Some
few alterations and improvements will be made in the interior of the building,
and the new congregation will take possession on the first Sunday in May.”
An undated photograph shows the sanctuary prior to the 1880s. A History of the Parish of Saint Ignatius, by Louis H. Gray, 1946 |
St. Paul’s Reformed Dutch Church brought an understated religious
approach to the fashionable neighborhood.
While other society churches placed announcements of their extensive
Holy Week services in 1870, the notice in the New York Herald for St. Paul’s
read simply “Please God there will be divine service and a sermon in this
church this (Good Friday) afternoon, at 4-1/2 oclock.”
The congregation’s stay on West 40th Street would
be short-lived. In December 1871 the Episcopalian
Parish of St. Ignatius was founded by Reverend Dr. Ferdinand Cartwright
Ewer. His “high church” stance was in
direct opposition to mainstream Episcopal leanings at the time. Suspicion and distrust of “Papists” and “Romanists”
ran high. Ewer’s adherence to “Catholicity”
forced him to resign his rectorship of Christ Church and found the new parish. Somewhat surprisingly, the powerful Bishop
Horatio Potter approved the organization.
Within months the Church of St. Ignatius had rented the 40th
Street building from St. John’s Reformed Dutch Church. Rev. Ewer wrote in his 1884 Sanctity “It was speedily altered to
adapt it to the services of the Church, which were celebrated in it, for the
first time, on Easter Sunday, 1872.”
The congregation agreed to a one-year lease on the building
at $5,000—a significant $100,000 annual rent in 2016 terms. The lease was extended; but the expense was
eventually unsupportable. On June 21,
1874 the New York Herald noted “They have spent large sums of money in
decorating and fitting up the church and it is probable they may make the
purchase. In any case no further lease
of the property will be made, as the congregation of St. Paul’s wants the money
to build.”
The congregation now had to decide whether to build or to
meet the $80,000 price tag on the brownstone church.
Negotiations resulted in a discounted sale and on February 20, 1875 the
Real Estate Record reported that St. Paul’s Reformed Dutch Church had
transferred title at a cost of $50,000.
If Rev. Ewer had been seen as “high church,” his successor
would far surpass him. In April 1884
Frank Leslie’s Sunday Magazine reported that Rev. Arthur Ritchie of Chicago
would succeed Ewer. A vestryman told the
periodical “He is not more than thirty-five years old, but is above the average
minister in ability, and will take a foremost place among the Episcopal
clergymen of New York…Yes, he belongs to the High Church—we could have no other
rector—and he is a man of strong and earnest conviction.”
Rev. Arthur Ritchie would cause significant waves within the Episcopal community. Frank Leslie's Sunday Magazine, April 1884 (copyright expired |
Frank Leslie’s clarified the vestryman’s comments. “Mr. Ritchie is more than a High
Churchman. He is a Ritualist of the most
advanced type, going even further in that direction than did the late Dr.
Ewer. In September 1882, he occasioned much
controversy and excitement in Chicago by his use of the term ‘Mass’ in
referring to the office of Holy Communion.”
The redecorated sanctuary at the time of Rev. Ritchie's rectorship. A History of the Parish of Saint Ignatius, by Louis H. Gray, 1946. |
Under Ritchie the church, which the same vestryman had
claimed “has never been prosperous,” thrived.
Within ten years of his arrival there were three full masses being
celebrated every Sunday and the vested choir boasted “34 boys, women and men.” But Rev. Ritchie’s insistence on the rituals
of the High Church flew in the face of high-powered mainstream Episcopalians—most
notably Bishop Henry C. Potter, who had taken over from his uncle.
It all came to a head in March 1894. The New York Times ran a headline that read “St.
Ignatius’s Under The Ban – Omitted From Bishop Potter’s Confirmation List.” The Bishop of the New York Diocese was
required to celebrate the rite of confirmation in each church at least once
every three years. Potter chose to do it
every year. Except now, for the second
year in a row, he ignored St. Ignatius on his schedule.
The newspaper said the snub had caused “much bitterness of
feeling” and noted “the trouble is of several years’ standing, and may result
in an open breach between Father Ritchie and his Bishop.” The main problem, Ritchie admitted, was that the
Bishop disapproved of how he celebrated Communion. In the Catholic tradition, only the celebrant
received the bread and wine. Too, Father
Ritchie did not read the confession and absolution, “as is generally understood
to be obligatory,” explained The Times.
Father Ritchie was fearlessly outspoken, calling the omission a “snub”
and “discrimination.” He threatened
Bishop Potter, saying that he had clearly outlined his method of worship prior
to coming to New York and he had the Bishop’s approval letter. “If he does not visit our church next year,
as he is bound to do by the laws of the Church, I may see fit to give it out
for publication.”
On March 11, 1901 the church building had only a few months left. New-York Tribune (copyright expired) |
The ugly episode eventually blew over. Growing ever more prosperous the congregation
looked for a new home as the new century dawned.
By 1900 the Upper West Side was the city’s most vibrant area of
development. On April 20, 1901 The
Church Standard reported that the Diocese had approved the move of the Church
of St. Ignatius to its new plot on West End Avenue and West 87th
Street. The article mentioned that
$50,000 had already been amassed for the new building.
Two weeks later the New-York Tribune mentioned that the Transfiguration
Chapel would possibly take over the 40th Street church. That would not come to pass. Shortly after the Church of St. Ignatius
moved out, the old building was demolished to be replaced in 1902 by the
Republican Club headquarters. The
12-story limestone-clad structure, designed by York & Sawyer, survives.
photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York |
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