The 1911 Chapel of St. Columba - The Cathedral of St. John the Divine

When Daniel Leroy and is wife, the former Susan Elizabeth Fish moved permanently from their elegant home at 20 St. Marks Place to Newport, their daughter Mary Augusta was still in her teens.  In 1849, when she was 20 years old, she married another Newport resident, Edward King.

King had already made a fortune in the China Trade, dealing in tea and silk, and had extensive real estate holdings in Newport, Rhode Island and New York City.  The King mansion, design by Richard Upjohn in 1845 and completed in 1847, was the largest and most impressive house in Newport at the time.

When Edward died in September 1875, The New York Times remarked "His wealth is estimated at $5,000,000."  The massive estate would equal about $111 million today.  The article added "a wife and eight children survive him."  But before the century was out, Mary Augusta King would repeatedly attend the funerals of her children.  Both Edward and Elizabeth died in 1878, Alexander in 1885, and Leroy in December 1895.

Mary commissioned John La Farge and Augustus Saint-Gaudens to design a memorial to her husband in the Newport cemetery.  She was a congregant of St. Columba's Chapel just outside of Newport and donated several windows memorial windows.

Her connection with John La Farge and the Irish St. Columba resurfaced when Heins & La Farge was awarded the commission to design the massive Cathedral of St. John the Divine in the Morningside Heights neighborhood of Manhattan.  The plan included seven chapels fanning out in a U shape behind the main altar.  They would be known as the "Chapels of the Tongues," dedicated to the city's largest immigrant groups.

The Irish chapel would be the Chapel of St. Columba, the patron of Ireland and Scotland.  On April 13, 1905 The New York Times reported "Work on the Chapel of St. Columba, for which a gift of $100,000 from Mrs. Edward King was recently announced, will shortly begin."  Mary's donation would equal $3 million today.  The chapel was to be a memorial to her daughter, Mary LeRoy King, who had died a year earlier.

Sadly, Mary would not live to see the chapel completed.  She died three weeks after The Times article.  When the Chapel of St. Columbia was dedicated on April 19, 1911, it was presented to Henry Lewis Morris of the Cathedral trustees by her son, George Gordon King.  The family added to the gift by providing "two patens, two chalices and two cruets, all silver-gilt, inscribed: 'In living memory of Mary Augusta King 1911, Mary LeRoy King 1911" to be used within the chapel.

Spanish-style wrought iron gates introduce the chapel.  photo by Another Believer

Heins & La Farge's striking work melded Romanesque with Gothic.  A Spanish-style wrought iron screen and gates sat within a Romanesque arch.  Within niches on either side were ten statues which followed the successive stages of the development of Christianity.  Within the chapel proper the heavy engaged columns along the walls were decorated with incised spirals and terminated in leafy capitals.  Above the cream-colored Italian marble altar were mosaics representing Celtic crosses.  

The stained glass windows, however, were the chapel's pièce de résistance.  Modeled after the windows in the 13th century York Minster cathedral, they were "pattern windows" because they relied on geometric patterns rather than figures or scenes.  (The exception was the depiction of the baptism of Christ by John the Baptist in the four upper panels of the central window.)  They are also known as grisaille windows because of the amount of "grizzled" or grayish brown glass used. 

The intricate windows are breathtaking.

Helen Marshall Pratt, the author of The Cathedrals of England and Westminster Abbey, was highly impressed with the windows.  In an article in The New York Times Magazine on September 14, 1919 she called them "almost equal in beauty to the Five Sisters Window of York Cathedral."  She deemed them "better worth studying than any that I know in the city."

Originally, of course, the Chapel of St. Columba was filled with seating and accessory items.  On December 7, 1929, for instance, the Ballston Spa Daily Journal noted "surrounding the chapel are six wonderfully graceful seven-branched Candelabra, after Donatella, which were brought from Italy."

The chapel had noble visitors on December 28, 1924 after Lord Robert Cecil, the First Viscount Cecil of Chelwood, and his wife attended services in the cathedral.  The New York Times reported that following the services the head usher "took Lord and Lady Cecil and Mrs. Lamont on an inspection of the seven Chapels of the Tongues."  The couple was taken with the sculptured entrance.  "The Viscount remained longest in the Chapel of St. Columba.  Here is a series of statues by Gutzon Borghum of representatives of the successive stages of the development of Christianity in England."

The sculptures of church figures flank the entrance.

The chapel was the scene of an interesting ceremony in 1965.  On November 10 the Review Press-Reporter of Bronxville, New York reported "A 700-year-old piece of Westminster Abbey was presented to the Episcopal Bishop of New York last week."  

The gift from England was conferred in a ceremony in the Chapel of St. Columba.  The Dean's Verger of Westminster Abbey gave Bishop Horace W. B. Donegan a 1-foot by 9-inch by 8-inch piece of a carved capital from one of the Abbey's ambulatory chapels.  It dated from the 13th century when Henry III started to rebuild Edward the Confessor's church.

The Bishop promised that the 28-pound artifact would be "incorporated within the fabric of our Cathedral Church," and said that "until the Abbey stone is permanently built into the Cathedral Church it will be on exhibition in the Nave."

In 1990 artist Keith Haring sculpted a bronze triptych altarpiece entitled The Life of Christ.  One of the nine casts was acquired by the Cathedral of St. John the Divine and placed on the altar of the Chapel of St. Columba.  It stands out starkly within the Heins & La Farge surroundings, a poignant piece of religious art.

photographs by the author

The 1894 Fourth Presbyterian Church - West End Avenue and 91st Street

The Rev. Joseph R. Kerr sparked a major rift within his congregation in 1892.  The pastor of the Fourth Presbyterian Church pushed to relocate the church to the rapidly developing Upper West Side.  The New York Times later explained, "One faction, of which Dr. Kerr was the head, was anxious for the removal, while another, to which some of the most influential members of the church belong, felt that the removal was unnecessary and beyond the resources of the church.  Dr. Kerr's faction, however, carried the day, and the new church, one of the most pretentious on the west side, was built."

Founded as the First Associate Presbyterian Church in 1785, the renamed Fourth Presbyterian had already moved four times before settling at 160 West 34th Street in 1867.  Now, in April 1892, the church purchased five building lots at the southwest corner of West End Avenue and 91st Street from John Curry and Thomas Cochrane for a staggering $65,000. 

The immediate area was essentially undeveloped--a situation which would rapidly change.  Before the decade was out, handsome rowhouses would line the blocks around the site.  On May 7, 1892, the Record & Guide announced, "The Fourth Presbyterian Church will build a fine church edifice."

Plans were filed in January 1893.  The trustees had hired architects Heins & LaFarge to design the structure.  Just four years earlier, George Heins and Christopher Grant LaFarge had begun work on the monumental Cathedral of St. John the Divine.  This new commission, while certainly minor in comparison, was nonetheless noteworthy.

The architects designed a low structure of rough-faced limestone melding Norman and Gothic elements.  On January 31, 1893, The New York Times reported, "The church will have a square tower on the corner.  The front entrance will be triple, and over these doors will be large mullioned windows...These high, narrow windows, extending from the top of the arched doorways almost to the roof, will be the most notable feature of the whole front."

Indeed, the massive arch containing stained glass windows above the entrance nearly filled the upper portion of the West End Avenue façade.  The 91st Street elevation received a similar treatment.  The New York Times noted, "These windows are considered the flower of the construction, since their form is essentially stately and decorative by day and specially suited for effective illumination at night."

The clock-and-bell tower at the corner had been scaled down, as explained by The Times.  "The plans, as prepared by the architects, provided for a lofty spire, which it was decided to omit, and finish the tower with corner pinnacles."  Instead of a spire, the 60-foot tower culminated in those spiky pinnacles, a crenelated parapet, and picturesque gargoyle waterspouts.

The projected cost of the new structure was $115,000, bringing the total expenditure to what would be around $4.8 million in 2016.  Those congregants who had worried that it would be "beyond the resources of the church," would rest more easily when the 34th Street property was sold for $200,000.

With about 200 members present, the cornerstone was laid on June 10, 1893.  Possible problems between the trustees and the architects may have been exposed when the trustees went with a different firm to design the rectory.  A month earlier, plans for "a parsonage or 'manse' for the Fourth Presbyterian Church, on West End avenue," were filed by Jardine, Kent & Jardine, as reported in the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide on May 13.

In describing the new church building on March 24 1894, the day before its dedication, the New-York Tribune pointed out the modern technology of the clock tower.  "The electric clock in the tower is a novelty, self-winding, self-illuminating, and regulated from the National Observatory at Washington."

The newspaper described the interior as being, "in quartered oak and chestnut, with olive upholstering.  The pews on the main floor are arranged in a semicircle.  The gallery is boxed, and also chaired for single sittings.  The organ is made by Farrand & Votey, and promises to give every satisfaction, both in appearance and quality."

There was also a chapel, accessed on 91st Street.  On the second floor were a "handsomely furnished" lecture room, parlors and committee rooms.  The day after the dedication The New York Times noted, "The pulpit and pulpit steps are beautifully carved.  Above the pulpit, at the back, are windows which will be illuminated at night by gas and electric lights."

Because electricity at the time was unreliable, the lighting fixtures of Fourth Presbyterian were designed with gas back-up.  "The great central chandelier has 114 gas burners and 107 incandescent electric lights," said The New York Times.  In the basement were the kitchens and space for a proposed gymnasium.

The newly completed church sat nearly alone.  Wooden fences protect the building lots and advertise their availability.  The new row of brownstone houses on 91st Street, behind the church, was designed by Martin Ferdon.  photo from the collection of the New York Historical Society

Members who had opposed Rev. Kerr five years earlier got revenge of sorts in 1897.  Trouble started when the pastor began missing during the Wednesday night prayer meetings in the fall of that year.   Trustees "came to the conclusion that there must be something wrong with Dr. Kerr's private life," according to The New York Times a few months later.  They hired a private detectives to tail the minister.

The detectives followed Kerr for several weeks.  A telegram from Kerr arrived at the rectory on the afternoon of Wednesday, November 9 saying, "because of an important engagement down town" he would not be able to get home.  A member of the church session also received a telegram, informing him that Kerr would not be able to lead the prayer meeting that night.

Almost simultaneously, the detectives sent word to church officers to meet them immediate meeting.  The investigators took three trustees and an elder to a Broadway hotel.  Telling a bellboy that they needed to get into a room to make repairs on a gas fixture, they burst in.  "Dr. Kerr was found in the company of a young woman," reported The New York Times.

The minister "pleaded for clemency, but the Trustees were obdurate and demanded his resignation."  The scandal was briefly kept quiet, even after Kerr tendered his resignation on November 27.  But it was soon leaked and on December 4 Walace D. Barkley, President of the Board of Trustees confirmed the rumors and added, "the woman in the case was unmarried and employed in a Broadway store."

There were some who said Reverand Kerr's undoing was the result of his insistence on building the new church.  One of the Trustees denounced the action to a reporter.  "He said that the majority of the board felt that there was an animous [sic] against Dr. Kerr on account of his efforts to have the church removed up town."

As it turned out, the scandal not only cost Kerr the pulpit of Fourth Presbyterian, but his ministry as a whole.  On December 18 The New York Times reported, "The Presbytery of New York decided yesterday by a vote of 90 to 4 that the Rev. J. R. Kerr, D. D. be deposed from the Christian ministry and suspended from the communion of the Church."

Fourth Presbyterian would see a quick succession of pastors.  On May 14, 1899, the Rev. Dr. J. Wilbur Chapman took the position.  He had been pastor of Bethany Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, making $6,000 a year plus "$1,100 more and three months' time" off for evangelistic work.  He took a 50 percent pay cut at Fourth Presbyterian, receiving $3,000, "and is to give up his outside evangelistic work, or almost all of it," said The New York Times.  "He does this because he is convinced of the importance of the work at the Fourth Church and of his own fitness to accomplish it."

The Rev. Chapman bore an "unministerial mustache."  New-York Tribune, October 27, 1902 (copyright expired)

The newspaper explained, "he believes he can build up the up-town parish, and is going to bend all of his great energies to the task."  It clumped him among the modern businessman-type of pastors.  "They are stout of person, jolly of manner, and maintain the unministerial mustache."

As he promised, Chapman increased the congregation.  When he took the pulpit there were about 100 members and an income of about $6,000.  Within four years he increased the congregation to about 700 and the annual receipts were $50,000.  But the lure of evangelical work was too strong.

On October 26, 1902, he resigned noting, "My interest has long been in evangelical work, and I feel that administering that branch of the whole Presbyterian Church will be a splendid opportunity."

Chapman's successor was Chicago preacher Dr. Pleasant Hunter.  He accepted the position on December 1, however a Chicago newspaper cautioned, "He has a host of friends in Chicago who wish he might find it possible to stay here."

And like Chapman, the Rev. Dr. Hunter lasted only four years.  "Many women in the congregation burst into tears when Dr. Hunter announced his intention of leaving," reported the New-York Tribune on November 19, 1906.  He had accepted the pastorate at the Second Presbyterian Church of Newark.

While Chapman's reason to leave was altruistic, Hunter's was more self-serving.  The New-York Tribune pointed out that his income would be $8,000 a year, "the largest paid to any minister in Newark."  The handsome salary would equate to about $217,000 in 2016.

Both men would be back at Fourth Presbyterian in October 1910 when the church celebrated its 125th Anniversary.  The week-long event included sermons preached by eminent ministers.  Chapman traveled from Europe to take part, and Rev. Hunter delivered his sermon on Sunday, October 16.

The Rev. Dr. Edgar Whitaker Work was pastor at the time.  He expanded the church's offerings to include musical and instructional events.  On April 18, 1912, for instance, The New York Observer reported that he "has commenced a series of services in his church, West End avenue and Ninety-first street, under the general title 'Evenings with Great Masters of Sacred Music.'"  Classical works with religious themes were presented, including Mendelssohn's Elijah, and Gounod's Redemption.

Earlier that year the Hon. C. Irving Fisher, M.D., had presented a lecture on "The Panama Canal and the West Indies."  The New York Observer noted, "The lecture was illustrated with lantern slides from photographs taken recently by Dr. Fisher while on his official inspection of the Canal Zone," and added, "Mr. Fred Krimmling entertained the company with several vocal selections."

Before coming to Fourth Presbyterian, Reverend Work had been pastor of the Third Street Presbyterian Church in Dayton, Ohio.  He was, therefore, especially moved when the Great Dayton Flood in March 1913 destroyed 20,000 homes, displaced 65,000 people and killed more than 360.

In pleading for donations from his congregation, Reverend Work read the response to his letter to Ohio Governor James M. Cox on March 30.  In said, in part, "Great suffering and distress.  It is estimated that we will be compelled to feed from 200,000 to 500,000 persons for two or three weeks in Ohio."

Fourth Presbyterian members responded with a special collection which was turned over to the relief fund for flood sufferers.

In December 1918, the Rev. Dr. J. Wilbur Chapman was back in New York to be operated on for gall stones at the Dumas Sanatorium on West 74th Street.  He died there of complications on Christmas Day.  In reporting his death, the New-York Tribune estimated that more than 25 million people had heard him during his evangelistic career after leaving Fourth Presbyterian.  The funeral of the world-famous evangelist was held at Fourth Presbyterian Church on Sunday, December 28.

On October 17, 1920 a bronze tablet was unveiled in memory of Dr. Chapman.  Reverend Work, who was still pastor, had just returned to the pulpit after an illness of nearly a year.

Fourth Presbyterian Church was the scene, of course, of notable weddings and funerals.  One in particular drew the attention of New Yorkers.  On May 1, 1940, Julia Ruth was married to Richard Wells Flanders here.  It was the father of the bride who made the event so newsworthy.

Julia was the adopted daughter of George Herman Ruth.  The Ruth family lived in the Ansonia residential hotel on Broadway between 73rd and 74th Streets.  By the time of the wedding, Ruth had been retired for five years.  But the celebrity of baseball player "Babe" Ruth had not diminished, nor has it to this day.

In 1952, the congregation of Fourth Presbyterian voted to merge with the Olmstead Avenue Presbyterian Church in the Bronx.  Negotiations were begun to sell the West End Avenue building to the Greek Orthodox Church of the Annunciation, currently worshiping nearby on West End Avenue and 85th Street.

The sale was formally closed on New Year's Eve, 1953 with a purchase price of $250,000.  Fourth Presbyterian had held its final service on December 27 and on January 3, 1954 the Greek church moved its relics and icons into its new home.  In Greek Orthodox tradition, the transition from the former church to the new one was marked by a procession.  Leading the solemn cavalcade was the Icon of the Virgin Mary Theotokos.

In 1991 the parish initiated a $2.5 million restoration which included the stained glass, masonry and roof renovations, and restoration of the 1924 Skinner pipe organ.  The project was spearheaded by architects Balamotis McAlpine Associates.

The private homes of the Upper West Side's broad avenues were largely replaced by tall apartment buildings throughout the 20th century, but somehow the trend missed this block.  The result is that Heins & LaFarge's Fourth Presbyterian Church is visually undiminished and still commands the corner of a delightful slice of 19th century New York.

photographs by the author

The 1907 Bliss Mansion -- No. 9 East 68th Street

photo by Alice Lum

Two years after banker George Theodore Bliss returned to New York, having worked for several years in the London branch of his father’s firm Morton, Rose & Co., he married Jeannette Atwater Dwight on February 12, 1879.   Jeanette was the daughter of the wealthy cotton merchant Amos T. Dwight.  The society wedding brought together two fortunes and two cultured individuals who both had an eye for discriminating collecting.

On January 16, 1882 Susan Dwight Bliss was born.    The privileged little girl would grow up surrounded by the finest in sculpture, paintings and rare books.  She would absorb her parents’ well-honed appreciation more for the historical importance of the collections than for than their financial value.

When Susan was just 19 years old, her father underwent an operation for appendicitis.  Bliss had already been weakened by a recent attack of influenza and he was unable to recover from the procedure.  On March 24, 1901 the 50-year old millionaire died.   Jeannette Bliss inherited not only her husband’s fortune which had been enormously augmented by his major stock holdings in the Phelps Dodge Corporation, the North Star Mining Company, Central Union Trust Company and others; but she had received a substantial inheritance from her father as well.

Jeanette and Susan continued to live contentedly together as Susan’s introduction to society came and went but she remained unmarried.  In 1907 Jeannette commissioned architects George Lewis Heins and Christopher Grant LaFarge to design a mansion on East 68^th Street near 5^th Avenue.  It was a neighborhood of palatial residences that housed the wealthiest of New York’s social set.  The choice of architects was somewhat surprising.  Heins & LaFarge was not known for residential commissions and had lately been busy with designing the subway stations for the new Interborough Rapid Transit Company and the Roman Catholic Cathedral of St. James in Seattle.

The firm’s expertise with municipal and club structures, however, would produce a regal and imposing home.  Completed in 1907 the brick and limestone residence rose five stories to a mansard roof.  Tall, hefty stone bases supported immense connected columns which ascended imperially past the second story.   A service alley between the mansion to the east owned by another widow, Mrs. John J. Emery, allowed for sunlight along one side; a luxurious rarity among Manhattan rowhouses.

Christopher LaFarge was the son of esteemed artist John LaFarge who would add his own touch to the new mansion.    For the landing of the grand staircase Jeannette wanted a large and impressive stained glass window.   Susan Bliss posed as Andromeda, holding back a portiere with her left hand and inviting guests with her right.    LaFarge called his creation The Welcome Window.

Susan Bliss posed for LaFarge's Welcome Window.  It is now displayed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  http://www.curatedobject.us/the_curated_object_/2009/03/exhibitionevent-nyc-the-american-wing-galleries-open-at-the-metropolitan-museum-of-art-the-curated-o.html

While the house was being constructed, Jeannette traveled Europe in search of period rooms.  To properly house George Bliss’s extensive book collection she imported a baroque-style room with a 16^th century ceiling taken from a Neapolitan palazzo.    For the third floor of her new home she purchased an 18^th century polyhedral mirrored boudoir from the Hotel de Crillon on the Place de la Concorde in Paris.  The room had been made for Louis-Marie-Augustin, duc d’Aumont.   The elaborately painted panels of arabesque motifs were based on designs by architect Pierre-Adrien Paris.

Jeannette Bliss erected the massive home for her daughter and herself--and their important collections --photo by Alice Lum

The two women moved into the mansion in 1907 and although they were socially prominent, their focus continued to be on charity and collecting.   As World War I took America’s young men overseas to fight, women did their own part at home.  In July 1918 Jeannette Bliss contributed by financing a 100-bed hotel annex for soldiers at No. 35 West 25^th Street.

In the meantime, Susan added to her father’s library of extraordinary books and Jeanette collected rare historic manuscripts.  Among Jeannette Bliss’s most important compilations were a group of letters written by Mary Stuart.   She owned one of the Queen’s letters to the French Ambassador to the Court of Elizabeth I, written in 1586.  The letter, written in French, began “Monsieur mon beau Frere.”    She also compiled books and manuscripts of Francis II, one of which the King wrote to his uncle Henry of Navarre.

Susan was intensely interested in the social and medical welfare of psychiatric patients—both adults and children.  While other young and wealthy socialites busied themselves with charity teas and glittering dinner parties, she was a founding member of the social service executive board of St. Luke’s Hospital and worked for years in the hospital’s Auxiliary.

After 19 years of living a refined and quiet existence at No. 9 East 68^th Street with her daughter, surrounded by their household staff, Jeanette Dwight Bliss died in the house on April 22, 1924.   Susan inherited the entire estate, which included $104,582 in jewelry and $336,219 in “furnishings, paintings and silverware.”  Jeannette’s personal library was appraised at $157,014—over $1.5 million today.

Susan Bliss came and went through the marble foyer for early 60 years -- photo by Alice Lum

Susan remained on in the house, immersing herself in social and medical welfare.  She was highly involved in the Hospital Visiting Committee of the New York State Charities Aid Association.  But with no family and no anticipation of marriage, Susan also considered the fate of her extensive—and growing—collections.

Three years after her mother’s death, Susan donated Jeannette’s Mary Queen of Scots collection to the Bibliotheque Nationale de France.  The astounding windfall for the library included 113 hand-written manuscripts, 687 printed books, 627 prints and 22 medals.

In 1944 she donated her mother’s French 18^th century boudoir from the Hotel de Crillon to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  It was the first of the period rooms that she would have dismantled and donated.    A year later she donated the 16^th century Italian library room, including two Italian Renaissance tables, to Bowdoin College.

An ornate carved and painted ceiling hangs over the library, now the Susan Dwight Bliss Room, at Bowdoin College -- photo www.bowdoin.edu.

Throughout the Great Depression and the war years, when the grand mansions along Central Park became ponderous, outdated relics--many of which were demolished and replaced with apartment buildings--Susan Bliss lived on in her wonderful Edwardian time capsule.   But the aging spinster continued to plan for the day when it would all come to an end.

In September 1963 she donated etchings by James Whistler to Bowdoin College and by 1965 had given the school the entire library—some 1,200 volumes—which were now back at home in the Neapolitan room.  A year later the refined and cultured 84-year old Susan Dwight Bliss died.

She left approximately $2 million to Yale University to establish professorships in epidemiology and public health, and a scholarship in that field.    Harvard received the collection of French royal autographs which had been started by her mother.

After serving for a time as the Clinical Psychologist Center for Marital and Family Therapy, the Bliss mansion was converted to rental apartments.  Much of the exquisite interior detailing was stripped out to accommodate 21^st century tenants.  Today rooms that were once the repositories of rare, historic manuscripts and art masterpieces are unrecognizable.

A room in the Bliss mansion today reveals no painted ceilings, no French paneling and decidedly unfortunate floors -- www.trulia.com

The 1904 Bowling Green Control House

By the end of the 19th Century the New York City transportation system of elevated trains, trolleys and hansoms was overburdened. The State of New York, through its Rapid Transit Act of 1894, authorized the city to build a subway system and by 1900 plans were underway.


A year later the architectural firm of Heins & LaFarge were given the substantial commission of designing the stations. George Lewis Heins and Christopher Grant LaFarge (the son of eminent artist John LaFarge) had worked under Henry Hobson Richardson and opened their own office in 1886.

Working under the direction of Chief Engineer, William Barclay Parsons, the pair designed tiled-clad platforms with individual terra cotta and mosaic station signs – the show-stopper being the magnificent City Hall Station. However that station received one of the 133 ornate steel and glass kiosks modeled after the Budapest subway entrances.

At the Bowling Green station, they went a step further.

While Heins & LaFarge decorated the platform level with Pompeian-style wall motifs, they aptly echoed the Dutch history of the park in their entrance structure above. Called the “Bowling Green Control House” (in reference to controlling the passengers who passed through), it was a brick and stone Flemish Renaissance pavilion. Polychrome terra cotta panels and modest carved stone scrolls are the sole adornments of the unpretentious but impressive structure.

Through the oak doors of the Control House on the opening day of the subway, October 27, 1904, thousands of passengers passed. For a nickel fare they could ride the new underground trains throughout the city.

Four years later the Bowling Green Station was connected to Brooklyn. Passengers who formerly had to use the Brooklyn Bridge or a ferry could now be shuttled beneath the river. The first train left Bowling Green at 1:02 am on May 1, 1908. Despite the inconvenient time, scores of passengers waited to be taken to the neighboring borough and there was a massive parade to celebrate.

The New York Times reported the next day “Every band in Brooklyn has been engaged for the occasion, in addition to the various regimental bands, as the Board of Aldermen made a liberal appropriation for music. The business houses and residences along the route will be decorated with flags and streamers, the streets will be illuminated by searchlights, and red fires at various points, including the grand stand, which has been erected at Grant Square.”

North (rear) entrance

For the convenience of local workers the Control House was outfitted with a check stand where overcoats and packages could be left while conducting business. Here, on August 19, 1916, a man checked a suitcase for Hans Edward Thompson. The gentleman was unaware that he was being followed by Customs Inspector Walter P. Murphy.

Thompson, whom The New York Times called “a stocky man with a foreign accent…past middle life,” had smuggled $25,000 worth of stolen gems into the country. When the U.S. Customs received a tip, Murphy was put on the case.

The Times reported “He found Thompson, and a watch was set upon him. Evidence will be presented, it is said, to show that Thompson, becoming certain that he was under surveillance, got a friend to take the suit case on Tuesday and check it at the Bowling Green subway station.”

Thompson was arrested and the smuggling plot ended.

In 1973 the Bowling Green Control House was designed a New York City Landmark. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and remains one of the few similar masonry and brick subway entrances surviving from Heins & LaFarge’s original designs.