During British rule, Roman Catholic worship was illegal in New York City. And although anti-Catholic sentiments were still strong after the Revolution, the Roman Catholic population was such that on April 8, 1808 the sprawling diocese of New York was created--covering all of New York State, New Jersey, and several Long Island counties. On May 14, 1815, the first Catholic cathedral in America, St. Patrick's, was dedicated at Mulberry and Spring Streets.
Two years later, Bishop John Connolly reached out to Elizabeth Seton, the founder of the Sisters of Charity in Emmitsburg, Maryland. Hers was the first religious community of women in the United States, and in 1810 she opened St. Joseph Academy Emmitsburg. In 1814, she sent sisters to establish an orphanage in Philadelphia.
In his 1877 A Popular History of the Catholic Church in the United States, John O'Kane Murray writes:
In 1817, Bishop Connolly, of New York...applied to the Superior-General of the Sisters of Charity, at Emmittsburg [sic], for some Sisters to take charge of an orphan asylum in his episcopal city. The new mission was confided to the pious and zealous Sister Rose White, and two companions. On the 13th of September they took charge of St. Patrick's Asylum, corner of Prince and Mott [sic] streets.
Murray was mistaken regarding the original site. The "humble" structure, as he worded, sat at Prince and Mulberry Street. When the nuns arrived in 1817, they cared for 30 Catholic orphans. (The purpose of a Catholic orphanage was to prevent the foundlings and orphans from "being lost to the faith" in a Protestant institution.)
In 1824, land at the corner of Prince and Mott Streets, overlooking the churchyard of St. Patrick's Cathedral, was donated by C. Heeney as a site for a permanent structure. When Bishop John Connolly died on February 6, 1825, construction had already begun. On October 14, The Evening Post reported on the "charity sermon" to be preached by Rev. Mr. Power two days later at St. Peter's Church on Barclay Street. The article said, "a collection [will be] taken up, the proceeds of which will be appropriated towards building the Orphan Asylum now erecting at the corner of Prince and Mott streets."
Completed in 1826, the dignified, Federal-style structure was impressive. The architect, whose name is lost, configured the Prince Street elevation into three sections--the end pavilions projecting forward from the five-bay section. The three-story-and-attic structure sat upon a brick basement level trimmed with brownstone quoins. The attic levels of the end wings were designed as triangular pediments with round windows, while the center portion sprouted three tall, handsome dormers.
The building was faced in red Flemish bond brick. Its brownstone-framed entrance above a wide stoop was equal to that of the finest mansions in the city. Below an elegant, leaded fanlight, Ionic columns flanked the paneled door against wood carved to imitate stone blocks. On either side of the leaded sidelights, half-columns disappeared into the wall.
On the Mott Street side, two prominent chimneys flanked the central gable, which incorporated an arched window. At the base of the chimneys at this level were two blind quarter-round openings.
On Thanksgiving day 1828, the diocese published a plea in The Evening Post that said in part, "the wants of the Asylum are very pressing; during the coming winter there will be nearly ninety orphans to provide for, and when it is remembered that those are both fatherless and motherless, and have no friends on earth to look to, it is hoped this appeal in their behalf will be favourably [sic] received."
The article said that the Managers of the Orphan Asylum would open the building to the public the following day as "an opportunity of judging of its merit...At the same time, they will have an opportunity to examine the establishment throughout, and to obtain every information respecting the economy and regularity thereof."
The needs for the Orphan Asylum grew rapidly. The sisters who cared and housed 30 orphans in 1817 were the wards of 140 children by January 1833.
Four years later, the 11-year-old structure was threatened with demolition. The aldermen considered a serious proposal in November 1837 that would extend Centre Street northward to meet the Bowery at the intersection of Bleecker Street. The Street Committee favored the plan, saying it "would affect property less disadvantageously" than other proposals. Nevertheless, one property that would be disadvantageously affected was the Orphan Asylum, which sat directedly in the path of the project.
At the meeting of the Board of Assistant Aldermen on November 20, 1837, it was decided that the Asylum was more valuable than the Centre Street project. The minutes noted that the plot that C. Heeney had donated was "for the purposes of an Orphan Asylum, so long as it shall be so applied." So, were the building demolished, the property would revert to Heeney, "and prove a total loss to the Asylum." The committee declined the proposition.
And still the population of the Orphan Asylum continued to grow. On March 9, 1838, the institution's treasurer, John B. Lasala, announced in the Morning Herald, "The public is respectfully informed that there are at present in this Asylum nearly two hundred orphan children, depending entirely on the generosity of our fellow citizens."
By 1845, Archbishop John Hughes recognized the need for two separate facilities--a boys' and a girls' orphanage. The Roman Catholic Orphan Asylum for boys was completed in 1851 on Fifth Avenue and 51st Street. The Prince Street Asylum was now a girls-only facility. On June 15, 1859, a visitor from The New York Times described his visit, saying in part:
There are four apartments used as school-rooms, one of which, for the larger girls, has been newly furnished within two weeks, and is very neat and convenient. There are two dormitories, capable of lodging fifty children each; they were scrupulously neat, and well ventilated. The Infirmary, happily, has not, at present, one patient in it. The Chapel, which is on the Mott-street side of the house, is well adapted for the use of the inmates. Mass is performed every morning, at which all the children attend. There are now three hundred and twenty little girls here between the ages of four and thirteen, whose cheerful faces and neatly clothed persons indicate that they are very happy in the care of the sisters of Charity.
The 69th Regiment of the New York State Militia, known as the "Fighting Irish," marched past the Prince Street Asylum (left) in 1861 as they departed to fight in the Civil War. (At the right is the graveyard of St. Patrick's Cathedral.) from D. T. Valentine's Manuel, 1862 (copyright expired)
A horrific accident occurred here on April 9, 1868. Margaret Brown, who was 14 years old, was alone in the refectory that morning. Somehow, her clothes caught fire from a candle. Before help could arrive, she was burned to death.
On May 10, 1884, two girls, Teresa Flanigan and Lizzie Girr, 15 and 19 years old respectively, "escaped," as worded by The New York Times. They made their way to Harlem to find Teresa's aunt, but were unsuccessful. They gave up and decided to return to the orphanage. On the way, they coincidentally encountered Thomas Flanigan. The 40-year-old had previously worked at the orphanage as an engineer (i.e., the worker who tends the furnace and similar tasks.) The New York Times reported, "He dissuaded them, saying that they would be beaten, and offered to get them situations."
His intentions for the naïve girls, however, were despicable. He took the teens to the Mount Morris Hotel at 113rd Street and Third Avenue, registering as "Callahan and daughters." There he sexually assaulted Teresa. Astoundingly, two days later two relentless police officers tracked down the girls. Flanigan was arrested and brought to the Essex Market Police Court on June 18. There, Lizzie testified, "that Flanigan had assaulted her too, but failed," according to The New York Times. The predator was jailed without bail and the two girls were sent to the House of Refuge.
In 1886, the orphanage was renovated to the St. Patrick's Convent and Girls' School. Two years later, on August 31, 1888, the New-York Tribune reminded readers, "The property at Prince and Mott sts., known formerly as the Orphan Asylum, is now used by the children of the female department of St. Patrick's parochial school."
The unflappable Sisters of Charity, accustomed to handling orphans and school children, were not shaken by a mere explosion early on the morning of September 7, 1896. The New York Times reported, "There were fourteen nuns in the building at the time, but they were in no way frightened by the incident and remained in the house."
The explosion happened in the kitchen when a pipe burst, "tearing a hole in the ceiling and half flooding the apartment with water," and igniting a fire, said the article. A policeman on the street heard the blast and rushed in, then sent an alarm to the fire department. Before the fire fighters arrived, the fire "was put out with pails of water." The Times said, "The sisters in the house were all aroused from their sleep, but only the Superior left her room."
By the early decades of the 20th century, the school admitted boys, as well. Among the students at mid-century was future filmmaker Martin Scorsese. As the demographics of the neighborhood changed, the student body included students whose language at home included English, Spanish and Chinese. Reportedly, as the turn of the century approached, more than 90 percent of the students came from families below the national poverty level.
By 1966, the building had been painted white. Higgins Quasebarth and Partners LLC via The New York Times.
In 2009, the enrollment of what was now known as Saint Patrick's Old Cathedral School had dropped to just 129 students. In June the following year, the Archdiocese closed the venerable facility.
The Archdiocese of New York placed the landmarked structure on the market on December 24, 2013 for $29 million. On September 4, 2014, Diane Pham, writing in 6sqft, reported that Time Equities had purchased the property for $32 million. "Plans to turn the school into condos have been in the works since October 2013," she wrote. A second developer, said the article, had joined Time Equities to renovate the building "into two single-family homes and eight luxury condos."
Surviving Federal and later Victorian period interior details were ripped out in the gut renovation. (Although the building was designated an individual New York City landmark in 1966, its interiors were not similarly protected.) A four- and six-story addition was erected in the rear. In the building that once housed indigent orphans are now luxury residences with four or five bedrooms, one of which has 23-foot ceilings in some rooms.
photographs by the author
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