A row of altered mansions, once similar to those on the north side of the park, contrast to the humble, frame building on the corner. from the New-York Historical Society, Robert L. Bracklow Photograph Collection
In 1790, New York City purchased seven acres of land to be used as an execution ground and potter's field well north of the established city. The property, which would later be named Washington Square, was increased by seven acres in 1797.
According to city directories, Daniel Megie, an early Irish immigrant, held the title of "keeper" of the potter's field starting in 1819. The position would include the less impressive duty of grave digger. That same year, as documented in the records of the Title Guarantee & Trust Company, Megie purchased a 21 by 80 foot plot at the southeast corner of what would become Thompson Street and Washington Square South from John Ireland. (Ireland, a well-do-to merchant, owned significant property south of the potter's field.) Megie paid $500 for the parcel (about $12,700 in 2025 terms).
Daniel Megie erected a two-story frame building on the plot. The no-nonsense, vernacular-style structure was clad in wide clapboards and capped by a modest cornice. Its six-over-six windows were typical of the period. The lonely building was the only structure along the field.
The last of the executions in the cemetery took place on July 8, 1819. The Evening Post reported that “Rose, a black girl who had been sentenced for setting fire to a dwelling…was executed yesterday at 2 o’clock near Potter’s Field.” It would be the last of the hangings. (Whether the executions were part of Daniel Megie's job description is unclear.)
In 1821, Megie sold his corner property to Joseph Dean for $850. It was the last year that Megie was listed as keeper of Potter's Field. The next year, a devastating 1822 yellow fever epidemic struck New York City. Trenches were excavated and wooden coffins piled three or more deep--swelling the number of dead to an estimated 10,000 to 20,000.
Mayor Philip Hone instructed that the cemetery be renovated to a military parade ground called Washington Square in 1826. Four years later, George P. Rogers began construction of the first of the elegant mansions that would ring the park: 20 Washington Square North. Within a decade, Washington Square was one of the three most elegant residential enclaves in New York City. And sitting among the opulent Greek Revival-style mansions was the little wooden building at 58 Washington Square South.
The increasing property values on the square was reflected in John de Ruyter's purchasing the wooden building in 1867 for $14,650--about $330,000 today. He leased it to John Connelly who assuredly raised the ire of his patrician neighbors. On July 21, 1871, The Sun reported that he had received a permit to "place a watering trough in front of number 58 South Washington square." His purpose of having a horse trough was, perhaps, to attract cab drivers and draymen into Connelly's saloon.
It seems that the first publicity around the saloon came on April 24, 1876, an incident that The Sun described as "one more Temperance lecture." Adolphe Lemoyne, Jr. was the son of a well-heeled merchant. The newspaper said that he, "was a handsome fellow a few years ago, but dissipation told heavily upon him. He chose to be an outcast." The young alcoholic pawned everything he owned to support his habit and on that afternoon, he pawned "two pairs of pantaloons" in a Sixth Avenue shop for $2. The 35-year-old went directly to Connelly's saloon. He sat at a table and said he felt ill. He asked for a glass of water and, after drinking it, "fell backward from his chair and expired."
A disturbing incident took place on September 28, 1888. John Entwistle came to New York City from upstate that morning, "and started out to see the sights of Gotham," as reported by The Evening World. He made friends with a woman named Ella Johnson and they went from saloon to saloon, "among them was one at 58 South Washington Square, where Entwistle treated everybody." Suddenly, "so crazy with drink," according to the article, Entwistle blurted, "I might as well kill myself." He took out a knife and jabbed it twice into his chest.
Entwistle was arrested (attempted suicide was a jailable offense at the time) as were "his female companions, three other girls, and two men."
At the time, the saloon was operated by John F. Doyle, who was described by The World as a "divekeeper." Entwistle's suicide attempt paled to the scandalous activities that were going on. Captain John J. Brogan of the 15th Precinct station investigated the saloon on March 7, 1889 "after complaints by President Z. Stiles Ely, of the Wetmore Home, and by all the other inhabitants and property owners of Washington square," according to The World. His report was shocking, saying in part,
Found the place nasty, vile; about ten women in place; we treated six; found eight in room about eight by ten, in rear of saloon; bartender named Foster encouraged women to drink, calling them by name, etc.; conversation very vile; bartender well built; light-complexioned, good looking light moustached man; was busy at 1 A.M. measuring three of these women's limbs, thighs and private parts.
John F. Doyle's excise license (i.e., liquor license) was revoked on March 28, 1889. After being closed "for a little while," according to Capt. Brogan, the operation of the saloon was taken over by Michael Ward, one of Doyle's former bartenders. In May 1890, Brogan testified to a State Senate committee, "It is running as usual." The Evening World reported the testimonies before the Fassett Committee a year later, on May 28, 1890. It told of five excise inspectors who, "were able to tell such a disgusting tale of vile performances in their report that it was too dirty for publication in the newspapers."
Surprisingly, especially given the fact that Michael Ward's dive sat among the mansions of some of Manhattan's wealthiest and most powerful citizens, a year later it was still in operation. On November 27, 1891, The Evening World reported that Ward was summoned to the Excise Board's president "to show cause why his license should not be revoked."
Michael Ward's license was revoked. The saloon was cleaned up, at least moderately, by a Tammany Hall favorite Francis A. Stevenson, who moved his family into the upper floor. Stevenson, known as Frank, was a boxing referee and fight manager. He ran several dance halls and dives, the most notorious being the Black & Tan at 153 Bleecker Street. Shockingly in the 1890s, he catered to all races. Police Superintendent George Walling wrote of the Black & Tan, "It is the resort of black men as well as white, but the girls are all white!" He called it, "revolting."
On May 7, 1906, The Sun reported that Stevenson had been injured in a car accident. Five months later, on October 2, The New York Times reported, "Francis A. Stevenson, a member of Tammany Hall, and a friend of Richard Croker, died on Saturday night at his home, 58 Washington Square South. His death was hastened by an automobile accident." The article did not mention the 59-year-old's saloons.
Stevenson's death signaled the end of a saloon in the little wooden building. It was converted to the Arch Cafe, which was sold in February 1912 to Jess Albrozza and Joe Cavagnara. They opened the Oasis in Greenwich Village, an ice cream parlor.
On March 2, 1913, The New York Times posed a question that must have been on the minds of locals for decades. "It is a singular fact, and one that the old real estate records do not explain, that this immediate corner was never fully improved." The article said it and the adjoining wooden buildings on West 3rd Street, "present a decidedly incongruous appearance by the side of the fine old houses adjoining."
An interesting chapter of the venerable building started on May 10, 1915. The New-York Tribune reported that Bruno's Garrett had opened the previous day. "The works of the artists of Greenwich Village will be on exhibition continuously," said the article. Guido Bruno opened his upstairs "Garret" with an exhibition of 250 drawings by Clara Tice. He told the newspaper, "no admission fee is charged and there is no expectation of sales. The Garrett is just to acquaint New Yorkers with their own artists in the Latin Quarter of America--Greenwich Village."
Guido Bruno was born Kurt Josef Kisch in Prague in 1884. He immigrated to America in December 1906 and moved to New York City in 1913, when he legally changed his name. From a rear space he published the monthly Bruno's Chap Books, Bruno's Weekly, Bruno's Monthly, Greenwich Village (with Charles Edison, son of the inventor), and the book Bruno's Bohemia.
from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York
In his June 23, 1915 issue of Greenwich Village, Bruno announced a poetry reading "every Saturday afternoon at 3 o'clock." He described them as "interesting gatherings in Bruno's Garret which is situated at 58 Washington Square" and cautioned, "It is informal and no admission fee is charged. But please drop me a line so I can reserve a seat for you."
In reporting on a second exhibition of Clara Tice drawings on April 11, 1915, The New York Times described Guido Bruno as, "an Americanized Serb with an Italian name, who was been a war correspondent in Turkey and a reporter in Chicago, and is at present a translator, publisher and research expert in the history of Greenwich Village." The article described the century-old structure as,
...the most forlorn-looking two-story frame building that can be found in New York. On the ground floor is an Italian soda fountain and candy and cigar store; above are the rooms where the Bruno Chap Books and the semi-monthly magazine, Greenwich Village, are published; and the big front exhibition room with a view, across the fountain and under the Washington Arch, of the lower reaches of the avenue.
On February 13, 1916, the New-York Tribune began an article saying, "Bruno's Garret is a mass of charred and shattered glass ruins." Bruno had arrived to work that morning to prepare for an exhibition about Abraham Lincoln. A fire had started in the abutting East 3rd Street structure "presumably from an open grate," according to The New York Times, and spread into the second floor of 58 Washington Square South.
The article said, "Abraham Lincoln, in painting, and his mother, Nancy Hanks, alone remain unscathed in the room." The Fourth Estate noted that Bruno's Garret "has an international reputation," and said, "Mr. Bruno's greatest loss was the destruction of many unpublished manuscripts, including one by Bernard Shaw." The New-York Tribune recounted, "the quaint, small wooden building that holds the Garret has a strange history. When Washington Square was the potter's field, the little building was the tool house of the grave digger. Later it was a tavern, where upstate coaches paused for mail and a drink." The newspaper said, "Mr. Bruno declared that he will repair the Garret at once."
Bruno did restore the damage (the Oasis of Greenwich Village was apparently little hurt) and reimagined it as The Garret Shop, a bookstore. His operation would be short-lived, however.
According to historian Rose Durand, shortly after opening the store, a customer entered and asked for Edna: The Girl of the Street by Alfred Kreymborg. The "customer" was, in fact, an agent of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice. The novel detailed the challenges of a woman driven to prostitution. Bruno was arrested for a violation of the Comstock Law.
On September 29, 1917, The Sun reported that the second floor of 58 Washington Square, "formerly known as Bruno's Garret, [was rented] to Miss Grace Godwin for use as a tea shop." After renovations, Grace opened her "Grace Godwin's Garret" which she advertised as "a cheerful place for good coffee."
The ground floor was now Rossi Brothers Confectioners and Grace Godwin's signage (much less dramatic than Bruno's) was displayed on the second floor. The woman sitting in the window may be Grace. from the collection of the New-York Historical Society.
The Oasis of Greenwich Village, by now, was owned by the Rossi Brothers. According to Emily Kies Folpe in her It Happened on Washington Square, the store "offered ice cream, cigars, and cigarettes and was notorious for its willingness to sell tobacco products to women."
Grace Godwin's cafe took the ambience of Greenwich Village's subterranean tearooms to her second floor. In his 1993 book Greenwich Village: Culture and Counterculture, Jan Seidler Ramirez writes that her patrons "could observe aspiring local painters scratching graffiti on the restaurant's walls, or rub elbows with impoverished poets and budding Bolsheviks."
By 1922, Walter Meyer had taken over what was now called The Garret. A cleverly worded advertisement in The Quill in April 1922 touted, "Execrable food and unspeakable coffee at exorbitant prices. Seating accomodation [sic], cramped and suffocating. No attractions whatever--And still they come!!! Was Barnum right?"
When The Sunday Constitution Magazine listed among the "few places of repute in Greenwich Village" on March 4, 1923, "The Garret at 58 Washington Square," was included. At the time, however, the end of the line for the 114-year-old building was near. Five months earlier, on October 22, 1922, the New York Herald reported that the Anglesea Realty Company had purchased it and the abutting house at 60 Washington Square South, along several other Greenwich Village properties.
They survived until August 1927, when they were demolished for a 15-story apartment building that never came to pass. Instead, the vacant lot sat behind a tall wooden fence, which was used for outdoor art shows.
Percy Loomis Sperr photographed an art show on May 23, 1935. from the collection of the New York Public Library
Today the six-story Center for Academic and Spiritual Life, designed by Eggers & Higgins in 1961, occupies the site.








.png)

No comments:
Post a Comment