The Thomas Malloy Saloon - 138 First Avenue

Before 1840, a two-and-a-half story house and store was erected at 138 First Avenue.  Typical of its Federal style, it was faced in Flemish bond brick and its windows wore splayed lintels and keystones.  One or two dormers would have pierced its peaked roof.

As early as 1852, Thomas C. Devlin operated his painting business from the store.  A teenaged apprentice working for Devlin was looking for a new situation in September 1853, but the separation between the trainee and employer appears to have been amiable.  His ad read: 

To Painters--Wanted, by a young man, 18 years of age, a situation to learn the trade.  A note addressed to J. Pease, 138 First avenue, in the paint store, will meet with immediate attention.

Josephine Adams, the widow of Oliver H. Adams, occupied the upper portion of the building by 1855.  Around 1859, Thomas Malloy purchased 138 First Avenue and converted the former paint store to a saloon.  Sharing the upper floors with him was the family of carpenter Daniel Stapleton.  On December 4, 1863, an advertisement appeared in The New York Sun offering, "For Sale--A carpenter's chest, with some tools, all in perfect order.  Inquire at 138 First ave."

Daniel Stapleton would not be needing his work tools for a while.  About a month earlier, he, his sons Michael and Edward J., and his landlord, Thomas Malloy, had all enrolled in the Union Army.  

Following the war, Malloy was back behind his bar.  In 1867, he had four roomers--Henry Bindewald, a cooper (or barrel maker); carver Lewis Leining; policeman John O'Connor; and Charles Turei, a shoemaker.  The number of residents was made possible by the raising of the attic to a full third floor.  Astoundingly, the builder continued the Flemish bond brick and nearly copied the splayed lintels of the lower floor.  A fashionable Italianate cornice was installed, and a brick intermediate cornice over the second floor marked the former roofline.

Malloy's tenants were experiencing a serious problem at the time.  On August 24, 1867, the New York Herald addressed the "group of slaughter houses" around three blocks to the south.  The newspaper said they had been, "described by the inhabitants of neighboring houses to be simply sinks of corruption and pesthouses of uncleanliness, bad smells and cholera."  Despite a prohibition against driving cattle through the city streets, the article said, "huge beasts and bullocks gambol through First avenue."  

More concerning for the occupants of 138 First Avenue, however, were "the dead offal and the bad sewerage of the place."  The New York Herald reported that at 138 First Avenue, "Many of the people have been seriously ill, and two or three deaths have occurred from the evil within the past three months, while to the neighboring streets the slaughter houses in question have been equally as noxious and pernicious."

The following year, Michael C. Cuddy and his wife, Bridget, purchased the building and he took over the saloon.  Cuddy was born in County Tipperary, Ireland in 1829.  His Irish roots were reflected in his membership in the Patrick Mutual Alliance Association.  He was, as well, a member of the 17th Ward Tammany Association.

Cuddy was the victim of a forgery in November 1869.  Every year, the day before an election, a parade and target shooting contest was held in the neighborhood.  Politicians donated prizes hoping to gain votes.  The New York Herald reported, "one prize at least was awarded which was valueless, inasmuch as it bore the forged signature of one Michael Cuddy, residing at 138 First avenue."

John Dalton had won an order (what today we could call a gift certificate) to the hat store of C. W. Burroughs at 49 Third Avenue.  Dalton picked out "an elegant hat of the latest style and the most approved shape."  When Burroughs attempted to collect the money from Cuddy, the forgery was discovered.  A month later, on December 17, the New York Herald reported, "Yesterday afternoon [Burroughs] recognized the hat carrying the wearer along First avenue and at once caused his arrest."

Cuddy died on February 28, 1871 at the age of 42.  His funeral was held above his "oyster saloon" two days later.  Bridget Cuddy leased the tavern to Francis (known as Frank) T. Cavanagh.

Like Michael Cuddy, Cavanagh was a Tammany supporter.  The Assembly District group continued to use the rear room of the saloon for its meetings, like the one on the evening of October 23, 1872 when they nominated William Gleason for alderman.

On April 23, 1882, the New York Dispatch published a long article about the alarming number of police officers caught drinking on duty.  Among the incidents was that of Officer Reilly on April 1.  The article said, "Reilly was found in the oyster saloon, No. 138 First avenue."  The cop quickly came up with an excuse.  He said that while patrolling, a citizen informed him that he was needed right away by Frank Cavanagh.  "He hurried to the saloon and without thought entered and asked the proprietor what he wanted."  Cavanagh laughed, according to Reilly, and said he must have been the target of an April Fool's joke.  "Turning to come out he met the roundsman [i.e., police officer]," Reilly explained.

The relationship between Cavanagh and his landlady became romantic.  In October 1888, Bridget sold the building to Charles Docen for $14,500 (about $479,000 in 2025).  In reporting the transaction, the Record & Guide described her as "Bridget, wife of Francis Cavanagh, formerly wife of Michael Cuddy."

Charles Docen was a baker, not a saloonkeeper.  (His bakery was close by at 142 First Avenue.)  He, therefore, rented the saloon space.  In April 1897, he leased it to George Sinram and Frederick Schmidt, of Sinram & Schmidt, which operated several saloons in the city.  Later that year, in October, he sold 138 First Avenue to Herman Kipp, who operated an undertaking business across the street at 135 First Avenue.

Among Kipp's tenants in the summer of 1908 was Irene Wilson.  She and the other occupants had to rely on public bathhouses to bathe, and on the evening of July 20 that year, she went to the bathhouse on Avenue A near 24th Street.  She and two other young women were in the showers when suddenly they were plunged into darkness.  They groped about until, luckily, they found a telephone and called police headquarters.

One of the women explained, "We were talking and didn't know it was closing time.  Please send a policeman to let us out."

Told that an officer would be there in a few minutes, the caller cautioned, "But please tell him to turn on the light and wait awhile before he comes in."

"Why?"

"Because it's dark and--well--we can't find our clothes."

Policeman Dunduro and the janitor entered the building, turned on the lights and, "sat down and waited," reported The New York Times.  "Presently one of the girls announced that they were prepared to depart and the big door was opened."

In August 1909, Herman Kipp hired architect Frederick Ebeling to remodel the interior walls.  The minor renovations cost Kipp about $10,000 in today's money.

Forty-year-old Michael Eagan was a bartender in the saloon in 1911 when he was arrested with two others in a swindling ring.  According to the Brooklyn Daily Star on June 12, they had been "going around selling advertisements for society programs or selling tickets for [an] outing for some charity organization."  The affair, however, "was never coming off."

On January 27, 1915, the furniture and fixtures of the saloon were auctioned.  Herman Kipp moved his funeral home into the space.  Known as Kipp's Parlor, it operated here for decades.

With the end of Prohibition, liquor returned to the ground floor of 138 First Avenue.  In 1934, Max Winarsky received a liquor license and opened a retail liquor store in the space.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Five years later, a renovation resulted in one apartment each on the upper floors.  That configuration survives today.

The tradition of a liquor store on the ground floor continues with East Village Wines, which was here as early as the late 1990s.  The diminutive building is a rare survivor of the earliest stages of development in the neighborhood.

photographs by the author