The Lost Madison Avenue Temple - Madison Ave and 65th Street

 

from The Decorator & Furnisher, October 1885 (copyright expired)

Congregation B'nai Jeshurun ("Children of Jeshurun"), incorporated in 1884, was the second oldest Jewish congregation in New York City.  In 1864 it erected a synagogue on West 34th Street, between Broadway and Seventh Avenue, deemed by the New Amsterdam Gazette later, "undoubtedly the largest Hebrew place of worship in New York."  While it owned the structure, it leased the land on which it stood and in 1884, with that lease expiring, the congregation chose to move.  On April 30, 1885 the New Amsterdam Gazette explained:

The growth of the city, however, of late years necessitated the congregation to look for another place of worship more suitable for the now remarkably increased and wealthy congregation, and more convenient to the large number of members residing uptown.

The New York Times reported on March 4, 1884, "The congregation B'nai Jeshurun has purchased from Newman Cowen a piece of property on the west side of Madison-avenue, about 25 feet south of Sixty-fifth-street, being about 75 feet from on the avenue, for $75,000."  The equivalent price the congregation paid for the vacant lot would be more than $2 million today.

Things quickly moved forward and two weeks later, on March 21, The New York Times reported that plans for the new structure had been filed.  The firm of Schwarzman & Buchman received the commission, and a recently-hired architect was given the project.  The New Amsterdam Gazette wrote, "The plan of the edifice, which was selected by competition, is the work of Don Rafael Guastavino, a Spanish architect of great ability."

Trained in Barcelona, Guastavino had arrived in New York only three years earlier.  He would become known not only for his often exotic designs based in Moorish and Byzantine traditions, but for his Guastavino Arch, an incredibly strong structural arch veneered with interlocking tiles.

The New York Times reported, "The front of the synagogue will be of brick and built according to the Byzantine style.  In the basement will be a large school-room.  The synagogue will seat nearly 1,100 persons and will cost about $65,000."  Although the New Amsterdam Gazette called the congregation, "now one of the wealthiest in New York," the trustees made a cost savings move.  "The old synagogue...will be torn down and the stone will be used in the erection of the new building," said The New York Times.

New Amsterdam Gazette, April 30, 1885 (copyright expired)

Construction proceeded quickly.  In reporting on the cornerstone laying on August 7, 1884, The New York Times remarked, "The edifice is already far advanced toward completion, and will be dedicated about Dec. 1 next.  The  basement rooms will, however, be ready for occupancy after the the October festivals."

The "fine new building," as described by The New York Times was dedicated on March 25, 1885.  The Real Estate Record & Guide said, "There was a large and fashionable gathering, and the ceremony was of an impressive character."  The New York Times remarked, "The interior of the new synagogue was modeled after the first synagogue erected in Europe, at Toledo, Spain, and is in the style of the Spanish Renaissance.  The front, which is of Philadelphia brick and stone, is of the byzantine style, with Moorish combinations and a portico in the Moorish style."

The New Amsterdam Gazette added, "Care has been taken for an abundance of light; the side aisles receiving light through large side windows and semi-circular tops, while the main aisle is lighted through the immense circular front and dome windows, and a beautiful line of half-circular ones located on each side of the frieze of the center aisle.  All the windows are glazed with fancy cathedral glass."  The stained glass windows were fabricated by Lampert & Co.

The New Amsterdam Gazette continued:

The grand organ, certainly one of the finest in the city, was built by George Jardine & Son, the builders of the Cathedral organ.  The most prominent feature of the building, which cannot fail to attract the attention of every visitor, is the exquisitely carved and beautifully decorated desk designed for the reader of the Books of Moses, situated in the rear of the halls.  It is constructed in the form of a balcony.

The movement of the synagogue away from Midtown created a problem.  The congregation's cemetery was located on 32nd Street, between Sixth and Seventh Avenues.  On February 23, 1887, The New York Times reported, "The old plot, which is only 40 by 100 feet, has become so desecrated by the refuse and rubbish which is thrown there that it has been thought advisable to remove the bodies."  The congregation met the day after the article to approve moving the bodies to Cypress Hills, Brooklyn.

The rabbi of B'nai Jeshurun was Rev. Henry S. Jacobs, a "fluent and graceful speaker," according to The Menorah, who was "gifted with a remarkably pleasant voice, and is one of the best orators among the rabbis of the city."  King's Handbook of New York said that under him, the congregation held "conservatively to the old Mosaic standards...paying little regard to the changeful spirit of the nineteenth century."

He was succeeded in April 1893 by the Hungarian-born Rev. Dr. Stephen Seymour Wise, an outspoken critic of Tammany Hall who was described by Tammany leader Richard Croker as a "narrow old man."

from King's Notable New Yorkers, 1899 (copyright expired)

Rev. Wise remained seven years, preaching his last sermon on June 3, 1900.  The New-York Tribune commented, "He took charge of the Madison Avenue Synagogue in April, 1893, and leaves it for a poorer cure in Portland, Ore."

In November that year, the Rev. Joseph M. Asher of Cambridge University in England, was invited to "preach on trial."  Newman Cowen, the president of the congregation, told the New-York Tribune "that Mr. Asher is expected to be the rabbi of the congregation."  And, indeed, he was installed on December 22, 1900.  The comments of the Rev. Dr. Gustav Gottheil of the Temple Emanue-El, who conducted the installation, may have hinted at problems to come.  The New-York Tribune reported, "Dr. Gottheil emphasized the necessity of toleration and magnanimity.  He also called to the incoming rabbi's notice that he would find ideas more advanced here than where he formerly labored."

Despite the warning, Asher could not accept new ways of Congregation B'nai Jeshurun.  On February 15, 1908 the New-York Tribune reported, "Its ritual was not sufficiently orthodox for the new rabbi and he resigned and took charge of [a] smaller but less modern congregation."  

The congregation struggled to find a long-term leader.  Asher's successor, Dr. Benjamin A. Tintner, resigned in December 1910.  He was replaced by Dr. Judah L. Magnes, who immediately began a series of far-reaching changes.  The Sun reported on December 19, 1911 that "he announced that it was his intention to 'further Judaism as it has been handed down to us by the Jewish people.'"  The article said, "One of Dr. Magnes's first acts was to shut down the organ and abolish the mixed choir.  The women singers were discharged and a choir of male voices was substituted."

from King's Handbook of New York (copyright expired)

Dr. Magnes's insistence on strict orthodoxy caused a rift within the congregation.  A member told a reporter from The Sun, "The enthusiasm with which the new plan was received seems to have waned and the young people, upon whom we depend, are anxious to have the music restored and the services made attractive."  On December 20, The New York Times added, "Strong differences of opinion, it was learned yesterday, have arisen in the congregation of B'nai Jeshurun Synagogue at Madison Avenue and Sixty-fifth Street as to the desirability of certain change in the direction of orthodoxy."

Dr. Judah Magnes resigned in January 1912, and was be replaced by Dr. Barnet Elzas.  The congregation's focus soon turned from infighting over religious ritual to its physical location.   In 1915 it decided to relocate to the opposite side of Central Park, and on January 15, 1916 the Record & Guide reported, "The Congregation B'nai Jeshurun has been granted permission by to court to sell its synagogue property...to the Alliance Realty Company."

The New York Times, on May 3, reported, "Madison Avenue is about to lose one of its most imposing religious structures in the demolition within a few weeks of the synagogue of the Congregation B'Nai Jesurun."  The final services had been held the previous Saturday and the congregation had arranged temporary quarters while its new synagogue at 257 West 88th Street was being constructed.

As it turned out, Raphael Guastavino's magnificent Byzantine-inspired structure was not demolished, but otherwise obliterated by the architectural firm of Rouse & Goldstone.  The firm remodeled it into a neo-Federal commercial building that bore no resemblance to its former self.

from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The building, at 746 Madison Avenue, survives, albeit heavily altered.

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A Painted Lady - Guastavino's 1886 No. 127 West 78th Street

On July 11, 1885 The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide announced "R. Guastavino has plans under way for six handsome three and four-story and basement high stoop private dwellings, 16 and 19 feet front each...They will be novel in their architecture, which will be a combination of Moorish and Renaissance."  The row, on the north side of 78th Street between Columbus and Amsterdam Avenues, was commissioned by developer Bernard S. Levy.  Each was projected to cost about $197,000 in today's dollars.

Architect Rafael Guastavino had arrived in New York City from Spain only four years earlier.  Trained in Barcelona, he was fascinated with the Catalan vault--a tremendously strong, curved structure constructed or veneered with brick or tile.  The same year that he accepted Levy's commission for the houses at Nos. 121 through 131 West 78th Street he patented his "Tile Arch System."

The architect’s Spanish background shone through and the resulting row, completed in 1886, was a delight of Moorish Revival confections.   Each of the homes flowed harmoniously from one to the other; yet a second glance revealed that no two houses were exactly alike.  Guastavino used red brick and sand-colored stone on the three upper stories which sat on a rough-cut brownstone base.  Moorish motifs (a snarling Syrian-style lion separated each building at the third floor) blended with Romanesque and a touch of Queen Anne to create the up-to-the-minute residential designs.

The Record & Guide described the interior details.  "The parlor floors and all the staircases are in black walnut, the second floors in mahogany, the third and fourth in poplar.  Handsomely-carved mantels of these woods, with large beveled mirrors and fine brass work are found in all the principal rooms.  Stained glass is used over the doors and windows with good taste and effect, a few lights of right colors adding much to the cheerfulness and beauty of the halls and rooms."  The bathrooms were finished in cherry and deemed "large and complete."

The journal noted the modern conveniences, including "electric bells, means for electric lights and speaking tubes" on all floors.  Dumb waiters ran from the basement to the top floor, suggesting that owners could take breakfast in their bedrooms.  The writer was taken with the service areas.  "The facilities for the work of the cook and the laundress are the best, an abundance of stationary tubs being provided, with ample space for ironing and drying, while the clean grass plots look as if they were already expecting the muslins and laces which will some-day be laid on them for bleaching."

Bernard Levy was apparently equally pleased with the project.  He not only moved into No. 121, but put Guastavino to work designing a second row on the opposite side of the street.

The parlor floor openings of No. 127 wore stylized trefoil arches that sprouted striking stairstepping stones that in turn supported the two-faced bay above.  The bay was flanked by quarter-round spandrels filled with elaborate Queen Anne terra cotta designs.  Moorish turned to classical in the top floor windows where a less angry version of the lion's head decorated the triangular pediment.

The house was purchased by George West Van Siclen and his wife, the former Sarah Jane Gregory.  Five of their seven children had died in infancy.  Sons Arthur James and Matthew were 17 and 6 years old respectively when the family moved in.

Born on August 13, 1840, Van Siclen was a graduate of Columbia University.  His family traced its American lineage to Ferdinand Van Sicklen who settled in Gravesend, Long Island in 1642.  Proud of this Dutch heritage, George was a founder of The Holland Society of New York.

from The University Magazine, January 1893 (copyright expired)

An expert in two vastly different areas--real estate and sports fishing--he was the author of A Guide to Buyers and Sellers of Real Estate and Fysshe and Fysshynge.  He also published a translation of Andrew Carnegie's Triumphant Democracy into Dutch.  An attorney, for years he served as the Law Editor of the Real Estate Record & Guide.  His wealth, however, came from banking.  He was a founder of both the Title Guarantee and Trust Co. of New York and the Holland Trust Company of New York.

The Van Siclen home was filled with heirlooms, including family deeds from Belgium dating to the 15th century.  Especially interesting were two family portraits--Dr. Moses Younglove and his wife, Polly Patterson Younglove.  The doctor had served under General Nicholas Herkimer during the Revolution.  The University Magazine reported decades later that at the battle of Oriskany, he "was taken prisoner, made to 'run the gauntlet' by the Indians, broke through the line, was scalped and lived."

Van Siclen was secretary of the Holland Trust Company for three years and, as such, on April 7, 1893 was called to testify in an action against the institution by Oliver D. Robinson.  The aggressive tactics of the prosecution's attorney, Colonel Bacon, were too much for Van Siclen to bear.

Collective gasps in the courtyard most likely followed Van Siclen's shocking breach of Victorian deportment.  The Sun reported "On cross-examination he lost his temper and called Col. Baker a liar.  Before Col. Baken could reply Judge Truax called Mr. Van Siclen to order and told him that such language could not be tolerated in court, and that if it occurred again he would have to punish him."

Chagrined, Van Siclen apologized, saying he meant no disrespect to the Court and that he had spoken in heat.  The especially tense proceedings, however, continued when the opposing lawyers "got into another wrangle," as worded by the newspaper.  The judge suggested "that if they wanted to settle their differences they could do so out of court."  He offered to postpone the case until the lawyers had battled it out on the street.

Sarah Jane died on June 18, 1898 at the age of 56.  Her funeral was held in the house three days later. Before long George married Grace Cornell Hogarth; but their life together would not be long-lived.

On Sunday April 19, 1903 Van Siclen died at the age of 62.  The Record & Guide listed his memberships in the Twilight Club, the New England Society, the Sons of the American Revolution and the American Geographical Society; but they were just a few of the many organizations in which he was involved.

Grace sold the 65th Street house to Assistant United States Attorney William L. Wemple on August 23, 1905.  The nationally-known lawyer was also a director in the International Mines & Development Co.

By 1917 Wemple had left his position and gone into private practice.  He became the corporate attorney for the Hudson Dock and Terminal Company and accepted individual cases, perhaps none so interesting as that of Chandra Chakraberty.

Federal investigators had their hands full with German spies and terrorists living and plotting on American soil.  At the same time, unrest in India against the English colonial government was heating up.  The German government took advantage of the situation by bargaining with Indian nationals.

On March 11, 1917 The Sun reported "Papers seized in the office of Capt. Franz von Papen...when Wolf von Igel was arrested in connection with a plot to blow up the Welland Canal in Canada, showed that Van Papen and Von Igel had planned extensively for uprisings in India."

They papers also suggested that Bengali-born Dr. Chandra Chakraberty and Ernst M. Sekunna, a German, "had a committee of Hindus in America who had charge of the sedition plots."  Chakraberty was apparently given a generous budget from the German Government to use in seducing Americans into the plot.  When he was arrested on March 5, 1917, Chakraberty hired Wemple as his defense attorney.

Wemple had a challenge in front of him.  In Chakraberty's West 120th Street apartment detectives found "a number of cancelled checks made payable to Americans...It is hinted that Americans were in the alleged conspiracy," reported The Sun on March 11.

Chakraberty was released on bail on March 6, but it was quickly revoked.  The Sun reported "The Hindu, accompanied by Sekunna and his attorney, William L. Wemple, walked up to Police Headquarters shortly before 6 o'clock bareheaded, but carrying his hat in his hand."

Things turned out badly for Wemple's client.  On April 13, 197 The Indianapolis News reported that "Dr. Ernst Sekunna and Wolf von Igel, Germans, and Chandra Chakraberty and Heramba Gupta, Hindoos, were indicted by a federal grand jury yesterday for conspiracy in setting on a foot a military expedition in this country against a friendly nation.  They were charged with conspiracy to foment a rebellion in India."

Wemple sold No. 127 in August 1919, sparking a rapid-fire turnover in ownership.  Nelli Herold sold it to La Grange Beattie in October 1921 for $27,500 (about $377,000 today).   No longer a private home, rooms were rented out to tenants like Ethel Watson Usher.

New-York Tribune, October 29, 1922 (copyright expired)

The renowned pianist accompanied vocalists on stage, sometimes traveling to Europe with their concert tours.  When she opened her studio in No. 127 she was proudest of being the accompanist to operatic soprano Sue Harvard.  And when Music News reported on Harvard's 1922 London engagement, it noted "Miss Harvard's American accompanist, Miss Ethel Watson usher, was a decided acquisition to the program, and came in for her share of honors."

Usher shared her studio with voice coach Virginia Los Kamp.  On December 28, 1922 The Music Magazine reported that the pair "gave a tea at their headquarters, 127 West Seventy-eighth street, December 20, the former singing Dawn in the Desert and an old Irish song with fine expression and style."  Several of Los Kamp's students performed as well.  The magazine added "Miss Usher, perhaps best known as accompanist for Sue Harvest (she went with her to England and Wales last summer) played the accompaniments in finished style."

Earning less glowing publicity was another roomer, James Morrow.  He was the manager of the 42nd Street branch of the stock brokerage firm of Clark, Childs & Co.   Also working there was "stock bulletin runner" Harry Fallon.  The pair devised a sideline in the office to make extra money.

Two days after Ethel and Virginia held their musical tea, detectives walked into the 42nd Street office and arrested Morrow and Fallon "before a large crowd of customers," according to The New York Herald.  The article explained that Patrolmen Frank Kincher and John Flattery had learned that horse race gambling was taking place there.

Kincher tapped the office's telephones and listened in as Morrow and Fallon took bets.   The newspaper wrote "The anti-gambling crusade was extended yesterday to warfare against race bookmaking when James Morrow of 127 West Seventy-eighth street and Harry Fallon of 1213 Eighth avenue, Brooklyn, were arraigned before Magistrate Joseph E. Corrigan...on charges of bookmaking."

After the 78th Street block suffered decline during the Depression years, No. 127 received a make-over of sorts in 1940 when it was converted to three furnished rooms in the basement, two apartments each on the first and second floors, and four furnished rooms on the third.  The last quarter of the 20th century was kinder when the house was converted to one apartment in the basement, two on the parlor floor, and a duplex above.

At some point around this time, all the houses in the Guastavino row were painted red and white, covering over the architect's purposeful contrast of textures and colors.   The row was soon locally called "the red and whites."

Then, in 2014, a meticulous restoration of No. 129 next door was completed.  While the project gloriously resurrected and brick, stone and terra cotta and earned the Lucy G. Moses Preservation Award in 2015; not everyone was so happy.

The owners of No. 127, Dr. Eric and Suzanne Walther, were split.  He was pleased with the restoration; while Suzanne complained to The New York Times journalist Christopher Gray, "I hate it.  It ruins the unity of the row."

There are still some who prefer the disfigurement of the red and white paint to Rafael Guastavino's 1886 intentions.

Despite their coat of 20th century make-up, the row is a rare and wonderful example of Rafael Guastavino's early work in America.

photographs by the author

The Moorish Fantasy at No. 132 West 78th Street

The Upper West Side was rapidly developing in 1881 when Rafael Guastavino arrived in New York City from Spain.  An accomplished architect trained in Barcelona, he was fascinated with the Catalan vault—a gently curved structure veneered with brick or tile.

His improved Guastavino Arch, widely touted for its fireproof qualities and noteworthy strength, would make him famous.  But while he perfected the process, he accepted architectural commissions.  In 1885, the same year he patented his “Tile Arch System,” he started work on a row of six townhouses on the north side of West 78^th Street between Amsterdam and Columbus Avenues for developer Bernard S. Levy.

Levy apparently was pleased with the architect’s Moorish Revival confections.  In January 1886 Guastavino filed plans for nine more homes on the opposite side of the street—Nos. 118 through 134.  Levy’s creative toying with the dimensions of the lots must have provided his architect with a challenge.

The Record & Guide reported on January 30 that six of the houses would be 16 feet wide and the remaining three would be 19, 18 and 17 feet in width.  Five would be four stories tall and four would be three floors high.   Levy obviously was not interested in the cookie-cutter type rowhouses seen on the opposite side of the Park.  The costs of the 78^th Street buildings ranged from $16,000 (for four), $20,000 (for another four), to $25,000 for the most expensive.  (The priciest of the row would cost about $650,000 to build in 2016.)

As he had done the year before, Rafael Guastavino turned to a blend of Moorish Revival Renaissance Revival for the row (although the Real Estate Record & Guide preferred to call the style “Spanish Renaissance).  The mirror-image row was designed in a complicated A-B-C-A-D-A-C-B-A configuration.

Guastavino tested his trademark arch in the structure of one of the homes.  As construction continued in May 1886 The Record & Guide noted “The most novel and interesting feature which appears in these houses is a fire-proof construction which has been adopted in one of them…Its prominent feature is a system of low arches of fire-proof tiling supporting the floors, taking up no more space than ordinary beams and leaving the cellar entirely unobstructed, instead of blockading it with iron pillars and brick work.”

The Guide urged other developers to investigate Guastavino’s innovative technique.  “All who wish to see a novel fire-proof, water-proof, and vermin-proof house, showing great economy of space and cost, should visit this building at once, before the very ingenious and effective construction is concealed by the completion of the structure.”

Among the 16-foot wide homes was No. 132.  Like its neighbors it was faced in brownstone.   The romantic fantasy of the architecture included Moorish arabesques, crenellated arches and an ornate second floor balcony.

The Real Estate Record & Guide was impressed with the glass entrance doors.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library

Bernard S. Levy did not sell No. 132 immediately.  Instead he put the title in his wife’s name.  Pauline Levy held the property until October 1894.   Pauline provided the mortgage to the new owner; but only two years later, on September 22, 1898 she foreclosed.  She repurchased the house at the foreclosure auction for $21,680 before selling it to real estate operator William Call.

Guastavino's intricate detail included two lions staring down from the corners of the handsome balcony.

Call rented the house to sisters Kate M. and Mary Louise Henne.   The young women convinced their landlord to sell them the residence in October 1902.  To help pay their $18,000 mortgage they leased a room.  Their first tenant apparently was I. C. Woodruff, a chemical manufacturer.  But events surrounding a subsequent roomer, Frank F. Thebaud, would raise social eyebrows.

That Frank Thebaud would be renting rooms in someone else’s home was surprising at best.  He came from an old New York family and had a reputed fortune.  His earliest American ancestor was Joseph Thebaud who arrived in 1792.  His maternal grandfather had been a bodyguard of Louis XVI.  Following the fall of the King, he fled to America in 1793.

Frank Thebaud was the principal of the shipping and commission firm Thebaud Brothers which had operated for well over a century.  The New-York Tribune noted “The firm does business with France, Mexico and South America and owns many vessels.”  The now-widowed entrepreneur had lost the lower part of one leg in a tragic carriage accident with his wife in 1898. 

In 1906 Thebaud was 58 years old; significantly older than his landladies.  Mary Louise was 36 and Kate was 34 years old.  Whispering gossips would have reason to hint that the two decades in age difference did not preclude hanky-panky at No. 132 West 78^th Street.

On Friday, September 28, 1906 Frank F. Thebaud died in the house.  His will surprisingly left $200,000 in trust to Kate and Mary Henne—twice the sum he left to his sister, Marie N. Thebaud and equivalent to about $5.5 million today.

If busybodies were suspicious about the suspect bequest; they had more to talk about six months later.  Mary Louise started drinking immediately after Thebaud’s death and by January Kate said her “excessive use of intoxicants” had made her “quite incompetent.”

Kate’s efforts to help her sister were unsuccessful.  The Sun reported in March that Mary Louise “has been in various sanitariums without cure.”  Exasperated, Kate applied to have her sister’s mental competency examined.  A commission and a Sheriffs’ jury ruled in March that Mary Louise was sane.

She may have been technically sane, but she was nonetheless addicted.  Back home on 78^th Street she was taking “from twelve to fifteen drinks of whiskey within a few hours,” according to the New-York Tribune.

Jurors at a second trial on May 3, 1907 learned of Mary Louise’s “delusions” and the necessity of sometimes physically restraining her.  The following day the New-York Tribune ran a headline saying “Miss Mary Henne Declared Insane” and the New York Times called her a “victim of liquors and drugs.”  She was deemed “incompetent to manager her affairs.”

Somewhat surprisingly the verdict did not change the sisters’ living arrangements.  They remained in the house and continued to take in a boarder.  In 1908 Charles Diggs, Secretary of the Fundy Park Amusement Company, was living here while his company laid plans for an amusement park near St. John, New Brunswick.

On October 14, 1911 Kate M. Henne, as agent for herself and Mary, placed the house on the market.  It was a full year, however, before it sold.  On October 26, 1912 the Record & Guide pointed out that “the buyer will occupy.”

Despite that, No. 132 was rented out as unofficial apartments.  Among the early tenants were silent film director and screenwriter Paul Bern and his common law wife Dorothy Millette.  Bern, who was born Paul Levy, would eventually marry screen star Jean Harlow in July 1932.  Two months later he was found shot in the head at their Beverly Hills home.  Dorothy Millette was suspected by some to have murdered Bern.  She committed suicide two days later.

In the meantime, No. 132 West 78^th Street saw a succession of owners.  Then, in 1978 it was converted to apartments, a duplex in the basement and parlor levels; two apartments on the second floor, and one each on the upper stories.  In 2007 a penthouse level, unseen from the street, was added.

Other than the expected replacement windows, Rafael Guastavino’s enchanting, narrow rowhouse is little changed outwardly; while inside many of the original elements survive.

photographs by the author

Holy Trinity RC Church -- 209 W 82nd Street

On June 5, 1903 the cornerstone for Richmond Virginia’s basilica-style Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, a gift of New York millionaire Thomas F. Ryan and his wife, was laid.  The architect, Joseph H. McGuire, had partnered with Rafael Guastavino on the project and the completed cathedral ceiling would soar upward as a series of tile-covered arches.  Before long the pair would work together again, this time for the Chapel for St. Joseph’s Institute at Throgs Neck, New York.

Joseph Hubert McGuire specialized in Catholic churches and his decision to work with Guastavino was a step out of the box of ecclesiastical architecture.  By now Guastavino’s process of creating strong, self-supporting arches clad with interlocking tiles was wildly popular.  It was found throughout the city--in the beautiful 1904 City Hall Subway Station and as a forest of tiled columns and arches under the 1909 Queensboro Bridge, for instance.  But at a time when Catholic churches were adorned with frescoes, marble or faux marble columns, and ornate stenciling, Guastavino’s utilitarian tiles were totally unexpected and superbly successful.  And the pair would join forces at least one more time.

As the 19^th century drew to a close the Upper West Side was no longer a developing district.   It was a firmly established neighborhood and the Catholic Church made sure that the needs of its flock were covered.  In the winter of 1898 Archbishop Michael Corrigan “decided upon the planting of a new parish church on the west side half way between the Blessed Sacrament, at Broadway and Seventy-first Street, and the Holy Name, at Amsterdam Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street,” as recorded in The New York Times.

The new parish was named the Church of the Most Holy Trinity and land was acquired almost immediately on the north side of West 82^nd Street just west of Amsterdam Avenue.  The congregation worshiped in a large hall on Broadway next to the First Baptist Church while plans for the church structure were laid.   Holy Trinity’s first rector, Rev. Joseph H. Bigley, was eager to take on the project.

The New York Times later wrote “to the task Father Bigley devoted himself with enthusiasm.”  Bigley’s zeal in getting construction underway and the church completed was so fevered that “many friends [worried] that he was overtaxing himself,” said the newspaper.

Plans for the church were filed in March 1899.  In reporting on the filing the Architectural Record & Builders’ Guide got the facts wrong—naming Thomas J McGuire, an important real estate developer, as the architect, rather than Joseph H. McGuire.

The cornerstone was laid in the fall of 1899.  The New York Times was not so sure it liked the plans, issuing a headline on October 21, 1899 “New Catholic Church’s Odd Design.”  The newspaper reported “The design of the new church is unique, in that its main feature is a large dome, supported by eight columns, thus affording a lofty central space clear of obstruction in the nave.  The towers, one at each side of the front, will serve as gallery stairways, and there will be outside entrances through them, besides two basement and two main entrances.  The basement, now building, will seat 750, and the church proper 850.”  At the time of The Times article, construction costs were projected to be $150,000—about $4 million today. 

The Real Estate Record & Building Guide published McGuire's sketch on March 18, 1911 (copyright expired)

As construction continued, Father Bigley’s enthusiasm increased.  By April the basement was completed and roofed over.  Services were planned to begin in the basement in May.  Those around the priest warned him of overwork.  “Father Bigley in his zeal listened to neither the warnings of his physician, Dr. J. A. O’Neill, nor to those of his assistant, the Rev. A. J. Driscoll,” said The Times, “and as the time when the realization of his plans to conduct the services of the parish in its own church approached, his energy and self-denial increased.”

On April 24, 1900 the newspaper reported “He was constantly occupied last week and very busy with parishioners on Sunday.”  Bigley went to bed in the parish house, almost directly opposite the building site, around 10:00 that night, planning to say mass the next morning.  When he did not appear, the housekeeper, Elizabeth Dee, rapped at his door.  Receiving no response, she called Father Driscoll.  The priest forced the door and found Father Bigley dead on the floor.  He had suffered a heart attack while preparing to go to mass. 

The first service in Holy Trinity’s basement was not held until August 5, 1900.  By now the membership had swelled to 5,000 and Archbishop Corrigan had named a new rector, Rev. Michael J. Considine.

The basement, which had cost $30,000, was finished in oak and could seat 600 worshipers.  “There are three altars and a fine organ is in place,” reported The Times.  Despite the large membership, however, it appears that money for construction had run out.  The newspaper said that now that the basement was completed “that is all that is to be attempted at present.”

Indeed, it would be a decade before further construction was considered.  Then on April 9, 1910 the Record & Guide reported that the church had purchased the property directly behind the site, at Nos. 212-216 West 83^rd Street at a cost of $100,000.  Not only was the parish ready to build; it had decided on a larger structure.  The Record & Guide, on March 18, 1911, explained “When in 1910 the superstructure was commenced it was decided to lengthen the sanctuary by 12 feet, additional ground having in the meantime been purchased.  As large a seating capacity as possible was desired, together with a large sanctuary, narthex, sacristy and baptistery.”

The Atlantic Terra Cotta Company used Holy Trinity as an example of its intricate work.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide January 20, 1912 (copyright expired)

The church was essentially completed by February 1911 when Architecture and Building detailed the parties involved in addition to McGuire.  “Carter, Black & Ayres supplied the front brick for the exterior and the interior brick also.  The dome is of Guastavino construction.  The McBride Studios built the altars, and the Daprato Statuary Company supplied the stations of the cross.  The Gorham Co. supplied the crucifix for the high altar and the sanctuary lamp.”

As he and Guastavino had done in the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, McGuire turned to the basilica plan for Holy Trinity.  Designed in what the Record & Guide called “modified Byzantine” the sumptuous facade melded light-colored brick with exuberant terra cotta details.

A Catholic journal called the design “one of the finest examples of Byzantine architecture in this country.”  It was a well-intentioned if slightly off-base compliment.  Joseph McGuire’s design was, indeed, essentially Byzantine.  But he splashed the facade with touches of Romanesque and perched two magnificent copper Greek-inspired cupolas upon the corner towers.  

Bands of terra cotta interrupted the brick of the towers to create a striped effect.  A grand arch dominated the façade, enclosing the three main entrance doors and the large rose window.

Inside, Guastavino and McGuire had joined forces to create a masterwork.  The basilica plan resulted in a nearly-square sanctuary.  “The crossing is some seventy feet in diameter and is surmounted by a tile dome,” said The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide on March 18, 1911.  “The nave and transept, if one may so call them, are forty-two feet in width and are covered with barrel vaults of tile.  The four pendentives are pierced with niches covered with gold mosaic, and the principal artificial illumination of the church is obtained by light reflected from these niches.”

The use of Guastivano’s tile, in itself, smacked of the Arts and Crafts Movement.  And McGuire carefully introduced the popular style in the form of flat-paneled oaken woodwork, herring-bone brick wall panels, and the earthy ochres, pinks and greens of the wonderful terra cotta columns.  His ability to meld the starkly diverse architectural and decorative styles in Holy Trinity resulted in a sumptuous yet not overly-ornamented interior.

Polychrome bands of the terra cotta columns play off the soft cream and pinks of the ceiling tiles. 

The Record & Guide described the various materials.  “The floors are mosaic, marble and terrazzo.  The altars, altar rails, font, etc., are of marble, bronze and mosaic.  The only wood in the entire church is in the doors and the gallery floors and pews.”  From seventy feet above the floor light streamed down from a stained glass oculus in the center of the dome.

In the spring of 1912 plans were underway for the dedication of the Church of the Most Holy Trinity.  On May 2 Archbishop Giovanni Bonzano, the new papal delegate to the United States, was on a steamer headed for New York.  Cardinal John Murphy Farley had planned an extensive schedule of receptions and dinners to welcome him.  The congregation of Holy Trinity was no doubt highly excited when The Sun reported “On Sunday he will dedicate the Church of the Most Holy Trinity in West Eighty-second street.”

The gallery and foyer ceilings were clad in Guastavino tiles, the floors in mosaic, and the brick walls interspersed with herringbone panels.

It would not be, however.  On May 6 The New York Times reported “It was decided two or three days before the arrival of the Papal Delegate that he should dedicated this church as the first official act of his office after his arrival.  But the Delegate upset these plans by pleading fatigue.  He said mass in the Cathedral at 7 o’clock and rested during the remainder of the day.”

It was up to Cardinal Farley to officiate.  “The Cardinal performed the ceremony in the presence of a devout assemblage of the parish,” said the newspaper. 

The first years of the church’s existence saw some unusual incidences.  Rev. Dennis J. Driscoll was an assistant rector here.  When the priest began exhibiting some peculiarities, he was sent to the Mount Hope Retreat in Arlington, Maryland “for mental troubles.”  He seemed to have recovered and he was sent to the Church of the Blessed Sacrament in New Rochelle.  Driscoll, however, had not recovered.

The priest showed inappropriate attentions to Marie J. Niehuaus, daughter of sculptor Charles Henry Niehaus.  According to The Evening World, “His conduct there and especially his apparent forgetfulness of his work in his infatuation for Miss Niehaus led the rector to cause his removal.”  The pair was married in City Hall in Jersey City by Justice of the Peace Frank P. Lehane.  After living together for ten days, Driscoll disappeared. 

“Testimony was given before Justice Mills that the former priest was not cure of his insanity and did not know what he was doing when he married,” said The Evening World.  The newspaper’s headline on April 6, 1914 read “Sculptor’s Daughter Wins Annulment of Marriage to Priest.”

A clandestine wedding took place in the church on July 30, 1915 when St. Julian Ravenel, Jr. married Nancy Walker Hull.   The bride’s father, Joseph Hull, was president of the Merchants National Bank of Savannah and, according to The Sun, “is reputed to be the wealthiest Georgian.”  The groom, said the newspaper, “belongs to an old South Carolina family.  His parents came to New York about twelve years ago.”

What would have been a socially-important wedding was instead a secret.  “The bride is about 17 years of age and the bridegroom not much more than 21,” reported The Sun.  The parents of the couple had been aware of the romance, and accepted their “engagement.”  No doubt they expected that it was merely a passing infatuation.  Nancy was still years from her debut.  The Sun said “because of their youth the engagement was not announced by their parents.”

The pair took matters in their own hands and were married by the Rev. Father Hackett in Holy Trinity.  They kept the secret from their parents until October 6 “and when they told it they received parental forgiveness and blessings.”

In the early days of the 20^th century elevator operators were termed “pilots.”  One of the most well-known of these was Irish immigrant Barney Garland who, in 1916, had operated one of the elevators in the Waldorf-Astoria for 17 years.  His highly-visible job put him in contact with titans of banking and industry who came to know him on a first name basis.  The Sun said on October 14 that year “captains of industry, buccaneers of finance, statesmen, merchant princes and even wine agents always say: ‘Hello, Barney’—just like that.”

“And for seventeen years rubbing elbows with the great and acting as godfather to his friends’ children contented him,” said the newspaper.  But the bachelor was about to be less contented.  Around September 1916 Garland was present at a christening party and met a young Irish girl, Anna Fitzsimmons.  “One word let to another, as words will when tinged with a brogue,” said The Sun.  “So they were married Wednesday at Holy Trinity Church,” just a few weeks later. 

While the weddings of immigrant couples was rarely noticed; the elevator pilot was so well-known and liked that his marriage earned widespread newspaper attention.

A highly-unusual marriage ceremony took place here on February 10, 1917.  Almost simultaneously, Marie Lenore Taylor became the bride of Thomas Murray Quinn; and her brother, John C. Taylor married Dorothy Madden Radcliffe.  The two couples assisted each other in the ceremonies.  In order to do so, as soon as Marie and Thomas had completed their vows they rushed to the back of the church to follow the second couple to the altar.  “Despite the excitement and the necessary quick changes they did not get their parts mixed up and everything came out exactly as had been planned,” said The Sun the following day.  “Both ceremonies required only half an hour.”

One of the most tragic episodes to unfold at Holy Trinity occurred on Sunday morning, April 9, 1923.  James Walsh served as altar boy that morning and following mass the nine-year old rushed out of the church “hurrying home for breakfast,” as reported in The Times the next day.  As he darted across 82^nd Street, he was struck by the car of cotton goods manufacturer Louis J. Lippman and thrown to the sidewalk.   Lippman picked up the little boy and with Patrolman John Lahey took him to Roosevelt Hospital.  His skull was fractured.

On October 4, 1931 Holy Trinity Church was rededicated by Cardinal Patrick Joseph Hayes.  In preparation for the event, the church received new elements.  “Bronze front doors, a huge Byzantine crucifix and a bronze statue of Christ, additional stained glass windows, altars, stations of the cross and lighting fixtures are among the new decorations in the church,” reported The New York Times

The large hanging fixture was added in 1931.  Unseen is the stained glass oculus at the center of the 66-foot diameter dome.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWSWUDKW&SMLS=1&RW=1366&RH=631

In 1995 McGuire’s superb cupolas were necessarily removed due to deterioration.  Otherwise the magnificent and much-overlooked structure is beautifully intact.  The interior space is a must-see for lovers of Guastavino.

 

Brilliant mosaics fill the spandrels of the rose window.

non credited photographs taken by the author and Lawrence Mentz

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