The 1886 St. Anthony of Padua Friary - 149-153 Thompson Street

The Italian-language parish of St. Anthony of Padua was established in 1866 by Franciscan priests, originally sharing the Free Congregational Church at 149-151 Sullivan Street.  By 1882, the Italian population of Greenwich Village had swelled as immigrants continued to settle in the neighborhood.  The blockfront of West Houston Street between Thompson and Sullivan was sold at auction on January 31 that year.  Despite a raging blizzard, Father Anacletus De Angeles attended the sale.  Happily for the parish, no one else did.  He purchased the property, which held three tenements and a portion of an ale brewery for $27,000 (or about $855,000 in 2025 terms).

Although the property was a bargain, the price depleted the parish's coffers.  A year later, on December 15, 1883, the Record & Guide reported, "The Rev. Father Anacletus De Angeles states that the new church will not be erected for his congregation for some two years, owing to the lack of funds."

Indeed, it would be three more years before the cornerstone of the church proper was laid on June 13, 1886.  The architect, Arthur Crook, personally placed a tin box holding copies of New York City newspapers and other documents into the stone.  The Evening Post reported that the church would front Sullivan Street and, "The monastery will cover the remainder of the lot to Thompson Street."

Appropriate to the parish's roots, Arthur Crook designed the Church of St. Anthony of Padua in the Sicilian Romanesque style.  For inspiration for the friary, however, he turned to Paris.  Faced in rough-cut granite and trimmed in limestone, the four-story-and-basement structure was designed in the French Second Empire style.  The lower three floors were delineated by molded cornices, and the fourth took the form of a slate shingled mansard, interrupted at the center by a stone section capped with a four-sided dome.  A copper fleche crowned the structure.

The first ceremony in the still-unfinished church was held on April 3, 1887.  After vespers, reported The New York Times, priests, led by Archbishop Michael Corrigan, "went in procession to the new monastery at 151 Thompson-street, back of the church, and blessed it."  The Sun said, "Fully 1,000 people gathered in the basement of the new Franciscan monastery in Thompson street" for the ceremony, adding, "The monastery is not yet completed.  It will be dedicated in about six months."  The article explained why the blessing had been done so soon.  "A Catholic church or monastery is usually blessed before it is dedicated, in order that mass can be said in it."

The priests and friars had barely moved into the new building before the seed of a scandal germinated.  In June 1887, Bishop Stephen Vincent Ryan excommunicated one of its priests, Father Dent, for what might be called unpriestly behavior.  The issue might have been forgotten had not, five years later, Dent sued the bishop for $100,000 for slander.  The church and the priests within the Thompson Street building initiated what today would be termed a cover-up.

Among the witnesses called to the stand on May 31, 1892 was Rev. Father Julian D'Arpino, "an Italian priest, of 151 Thompson street," according to The Evening World.  The article said that he, "protested against being sworn as he had not been subpoenaed."  Father D'Arpino's protest was fruitless and Justice Barlett ruled that since he was in court he could testify and he was subsequently sworn.

The following day a young woman who lived on MacDougal Street, Maggie Kenny, "created a sensation," as worded by the New-York Tribune, "by asserting that she had been ordered in confessional by a priest not to testify in the case, and also by suddenly saying that three of the priests at St. Anthony's Church were married."  When further pressed, Kenny identified the priests by name.

More positive press was generated with the visit of Monsignor Satolli, the first Apostolic Delegate to the United States, in June 1895.  A priest traveled to Washington D.C. to accompany Satolli to New York.  They arrived on June 12 and were driven "immediately to the monastery of the Franciscan order, at 151 Thompson street," said The Sun.  The next morning, Monsignor Satolli celebrated the Pontifical high mass in the Sullivan Street church, the first of several services he would conduct.

The monastery was a hive of high-powered church officials over the next few days.  The Sun wrote on June 13, "Archbishop Corrigan called on Mgr. Satolli at the monastery soon after his arrival.  Vicar-General Farley paid his respects later."

On June 4, 1896, The World commented, "In the middle of the block in Thompson street, just below Houston, is the Franciscan Monastery.  The work of the monks there quietly reaches out in every direction among the faithful, and they are always busy doing works of mercy among the poor and afflicted."  An important element in that work was what was perhaps the most cherished possession within the monastery--a relic of St. Francis.  The article said, 

During the past two years the monks have become famous through the wonders attributed to the relic of St. Anthony of Padua.  The blind have had sight restored, the crippled have cast aside their crutches, and even those whom physicians counted as beyond relief have recovered suddenly, so it is said, from illness which science could not fathom of cure.

The World asserted, "Hundreds throng the chapel every Tuesday.  They come from all over the country and from every station in life."

Among the parishioners at the time was Terrence H. Forrest, who lived at 73 Bedford Street.  For years he had suffered from dropsy (known today as edema).  It eventually waned his strength until in the spring of 1896 his condition was dire.  Father McCabe of the Church of St. Anthony of Padua arrived at the house to administer last rites.  He also brought the relic of St. Anthony.  On June 4, The World reported, "He anointed the sick man's body with it while all around prayed, with heads bowed."  

The article recounted, "Almost immediately, it is said, the man rallied, and from that moment grew stronger and stronger until now, his family declare, he enjoys his former health."  Neither Father McCabe nor Terrence Forrest would discuss the matter.  "In the neighborhood, however, the case is much talked about, and Mr. Forrest is looked upon by many as one saved from the grave," said the article.

Nearly two decades later and after being handled thousands of times, the gold case that held the relic was in bad shape.  On June 15, 1914, The New York Times explained, "The receptacle which contained the relic became worn out through much handling."  But now, said the article, the "fathers of the Franciscan Monastery at 151 Thompson Street are exhibiting with a great deal of pride a solid gold receptacle which was made to contain the sacred relic of the bones of St. Anthony."  

Italian-born parishioners had donated "gold rings, bracelets, brooches, pins and coins" to be melted to create the box.  The Times said, "Many of them gave the fathers all of their jewelry...The receptacle is 16-1/2 inches high, and is studded with emeralds, rubies, and pearls."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The monastery was the scene of a horrifying tragedy on November 4, 1938.  At 4:00 that morning Louis Adduci, the 26-year-old doorman, smelled smoke.  He ran throughout the halls shouting, "Fire!"  As he headed back down, he was blocked by flames and was forced to jump to the rear yard.  As the fire roared up the wooden staircase, the priests were trapped on the upper floors.  The New York Times reported that they, "had to jump out windows to an adjoining building or cling to ledges."

Brother John Chiazza was a 27-year-old missionary worker who had arrived in America from Italy the previous year.  His room was on the top floor at the rear.  The Times explained, "The flames kept him from the other end of the hall, where a staircase led to the roof."  His charred body was found kneeling by the bed, "with his hands clasped as if in prayer."

Rev. Luige Vitale rushed to a fourth floor window.  "When flames began licking at his feet," according to The New York Times, the 65-year-old "smashed a window with his hand and leaped about fifteen feet to the second-story roof of the settlement house next door."  He fractured a leg in the fall.

The New York Times, November 5, 1938

Firefighters made a "spectacular" rescue of 40-year-old Rev. Virgil Liucci.  Wakened by Adduci's warnings, he tried to get to the hallway, but was forced back by the flames.  After kneeling to recite a short prayer before a picture of St. Anthony, he tied his bed sheet to his cassock and a radiator and started to lower himself to the street.  "The flames were shooting out of the window when he was about to jump," recounted The Times, when he heard the fire engines approaching.  

Like Brother Chiazza, Julius Tappero, the monastery's 65-year-old cook, did not escape the blaze.  His body, too, was found in a kneeling position in his room on the third floor.

The following day, The New York Times reported, "Three of the priests were injured, one burned so badly he was still on the serious list in Columbus Hospital last night."  The priests temporarily moved into the parish's settlement house during the renovations.

A subsequent renovation, completed in 1953, created classrooms and a bowling alley in the basement, and an auditorium on the first floor.  Called Memorial Hall, it became the venue for various meetings, festivities and events, like the St. Anthony's Playgroup's rummage sale in December 1979.

Arthur Crook's imposing granite building continues to play an important part of the parish's outreach as well as an architectural ornament within the district.

photographs by the author