The 1870 Church of the Holy Innocents - 128 West 37th Street

By the 1850s urban pioneers had ventured north of 34th Street along Sixth Avenue and Broadway where they lived in modest three-story brick-faced houses, some with shops at street level.   Among them was a small group of Episcopalians who formed the Church of the Holy Innocents in 1854.

The congregation worshiped from a small wooden building on West 37th Street between Broadway and 7th Avenues.  There is no clear description of the church.  In 1864 The Church of the People announced:

Free Church of the Holy Innocents--Sunday next, the 1st Sunday after Trinity, is the tenth anniversary of the opening of this church, in West Thirty-seventh-street, near Broadway, and of the Rector's Institution.  The anniversary sermon will be preached in the morning.

By the time of that announcement, the district was seeing significant development.  In 1866 Archbishop John McCloskey recognized the need for a new Roman Catholic parish to serve the growing population.   He appointed Rev. John Larkin to establish the parish and, interestingly, he not only set his sights on the building of the Church of the Holy Innocents, but on its name.

According to The Evening World later, Father Larkin purchased the "small frame structure which had been occupied by a Protestant Episcopal congregation.  The cost of this and several adjacent lots, which Father Larkin purchased at the same time, was about $130,000."  The Episcopal parish moved slightly north to Sixth Avenue and 41st Street.

Archbishop McCloskey officiated at the dedication services on December 16, 1866.  The New York Herald noted "Forty days' indulgence was granted by the Right Reverend Bishop to all persons assisting at the ceremonies."

The most common form of church fund raising was a bazaar, or fair, where homemade goods like needlework and baked goods were sold.   The Church of the Holy Innocents was no different.  On April 24, 1867 The New York Herald reported on one of the events.  The "grand fair and festival to aid in the funds" of the church was held in the "large hall on the corner of Thirty-fourth street and Eighth avenue."    The article noted "The rooms were handsomely decorated and the display of articles to be disposed of was arranged with that degree of taste and neatness which always distinguish the handiwork of the gentler sex."

Archbishop McCloskey was back on June 20, 1869 for the laying of the cornerstone of the new building "in the presence of a vast concourse of people," as reported by The New York Times.   The pomp and ceremony of the ritual--the procession of priests and acolytes, and the blessing of the stone by the Archbishop ("vested in cope and mitre, and bearing his crosier")--were abruptly ended by a cloudburst.

The church had hired Irish-born architect Patrick Charles Keely to design its new structure.  He worked almost exclusively for the Roman Catholic Church and would eventually design more than 600 of its churches.  Similar to several of his Gothic Revival designs, The Church of the Holy Innocents was clad in brick trimmed in New Jersey brownstone and light-colored sandstone from Ohio.  The alternating use of the two stones created a colorful effect.

Keely used modern technology inside, creating the gallery columns from cast iron.  "From the caps of these will spring arches of wood to support the roof," said The New York Times.  "It is estimated that the church, when finished, will comfortably seat 1,500 people."

The dedication was held on February 13, 1870.  After pointing out that "the altar is of white marble," and that the nave "is lighted by seventy-six beautiful stained glass windows," The New York Times simply opined "The general appearance of the church is extremely pretty."

The cost of the construction was about $100,000; bringing the total project to more than $3.6 million in 2018.   Part of the expense was the superb fresco mural of the Crucifixion above the white marble altar.  It was executed by Constantino Brumidi, who was simultaneously working on the decoration of the United States Capitol Building.

image via The Monuments Conservancy

Not in the budget, apparently, was a new organ.  A month later, on March 28, The New York Herald reported "In spite of the weather a large number of sinners assembled at the Church of the Holy Innocents, where the sermon and singing were fine, but where, we sincerely regret to record it, the organ, being afflicted with the asthma, with difficulty contributed its quota of wind."

A charming detail is the design of the brass door pulls, now worn with decades of use, in the form of praying medieval monks.

Although the church was considered, according to The Evening World, "one of the largest and handsomest of its kind in the city," its congregation was composed mostly of working-class Irish who clung tightly to their roots.   And so when Irish-born boxer John C. Hennan died in October 1873 it was not surprising that his funeral was held here.

Heenan died in Green River, in the Wyoming Territory, on his way to fight in San Francisco.  His body was transported by train on the long journey back to New York.  When it arrived at Grand Central Depot on November 1, The New York Herald remarked "although the face was somewhat discolored, it was readily recognizable."   The newspaper said the Church of the Holy Innocents was "decorated last evening with flowers" including "massive floral contributions in the shape of anchors and harps."

Meanwhile the church continued to undergo improvements.  Three weeks after Heenan's funeral a new alter was dedicated, and on November 9, 1879 a "remarkably fine" new organ, as described by The New York Times, replaced its asthmatic predecessor.   Built by George Jardine & Sons, the instrument cost $15,000--about a third of a million dollars today.    That evening a concert was held with several of the well-known organists of New York and Brooklyn taking part.

The heavily Irish personality of the Church of the Holy Innocents played out even in its own organist.   Rosa d'Erina not only played the organ, she was a popular singer, known as the "prima donna of Erin" and "The Irish Song Bird."  Born in Armagh, Ireland, she made her debut as a singer in October 1869 in London, before coming to New York in 1870.

Father Larkin's own pro-Irish temperament was revealed on Sunday March 2, 1884 when he denounced Dion Boucicault's play, The Shaughraun from the pulpit.  He told his congregants that the play "lowered the Irish church and was a disgrace to the Irish people."  Specifically, he said, "the play represented the Irish priests as so depraved in taste as not to know the difference between whisky and the milk in their tea," and that in a scene depicting a wake, "the Irish people are represented as dancing and having a good time."

A much more sobering protest by Father Larkin and his parish was staged on June 21, 1887.  For seven years, between 1845 and 1852, the people of Ireland suffered mass starvation and disease, known then as The Great Famine or the Great Hunger--better known today as the Irish Potato Famine.  Upwards of a quarter of the Irish population died--estimated by modern statisticians at between 1,000,000 and 1,500,000 people.  Irish-Americans watched in disbelief as it appeared that the British Government refused to step in with aid.

Queen Victoria's Jubilee was celebrated on June 21, 1887.  Newspapers world-wide were filled with descriptions of the fireworks, parades, and festivities.  On June 22 The Salt Lake Herald printed a full page covering the events.  It included the paragraph:

New York, June 21--A solemn requiem mass was celebrated in the Church of the Holy Innocents this morning, for the repose of the souls of 150,000 Irish, who died of starvation during the reign of Queen Victoria.  Rev. Dr. John Larkin acted as celebrant.

Four days later the Illinois newspaper The Ottawa Free Trader chimed in.  "In New York while the Englishmen and their friends were drinking toasts with the liveliest felicitations, at the Church of the Holy Innocents a 'mass for the repose of the souls of Irish victims of Victoria's reign' was held; and while the jubilee anthem pealed forth at Metropolitan Opera House, the Dies irae, dies illa was sung in the church!"

That same year an $8,000 renovation was done.  The facade was remodeled and the interior updated, including painting the cast iron columns to resemble marble.  On January 24 The Evening World reported "During the past year the interior of the church has been redecorated, the walls and ceiling having been repainted and frescoed.  The ceiling has been ornamented with a double row of handsomely executed panels representing different saints.  In addition to this the stonework of the entire front of the church has been rechiselled, the result being that the whole building has been renovated and within and without it has the appearance of a new structure."

A turn of the century post card depicted the remodeled facade.  A veneer of brownstone had been applied to the original brick facing.  To the right is the church school and rectory.

The church was once again the scene of the funeral of a famous Irish boxer, Joe Coburn, on December 8, 1890.  The Evening World reported "The assemblage that crowded the Church of the Holy Innocents this morning was like none that had ever filled it.  Long before 10 o'clock, the hour set for the funeral services, athletic looking men in twos and threes turned into Thirty-seventh street from Broadway or Seventh avenue, and reverently entered the sacred edifice."

The article admitted that many of the pugilistic mourners were not especially devout.  "The place seemed strange to them and they to the place...They were rather hard-faced men [who] wore expensive but too massive jewelry, and their garments were of louder tone than fashion would permit, but they were earnest and had come to pay their last call on all that remained of their old-time friend and companion, Joe Coburn."

Less then three weeks later there would be another funeral, equally crowded, but this one would have no flashy suits.  After serving as pastor for 29 years, Rev. John Larkin died of pneumonia at the age of 69 on December 20.  His funeral was held the following Tuesday, just two days before Christmas Day.

Father Larkin's replacement was another Irish priest, Michael C. O'Farrell.  While its congregants were mostly working class, the Church of the Holy Innocents brushed with the upper class after a messenger boy knocked on the door of the rectory just before midnight on April 25, 1897.  In his mansion at No. 244 Madison Avenue, the massively-wealthy Theodore Havemeyer was dying.

Although his wife, Emily, was a practicing Catholic and their children had been brought up in the faith, Havemeyer had never embraced religion.  Now on his deathbed he had second thoughts.  It may have been that no other priest would perform the last-minute conversion, but for whatever reason the unlikely choice of the Church of the Holy Innocents and Father O'Farrell was made.

O'Farrell traveled to the Murray Hill mansion and baptized the millionaire just in time.  Now a confirmed Catholic, his funeral was held in St. Patrick's Cathedral.  The gesture was not lost on the Havemeyer family.  When Theodore's son, Charles F. Havemeyer died the following year at his Long Island summer estate, a funeral was performed there, then a second service was held in the Church of the Holy Innocents.  The church would also be the scene of Frederick Christian Havemeyer's wedding to Lillie Travers on July 21, 1906.

Until the church was debt-free it could not, by Roman Catholic law, be consecrated.  That finally came to pass on February 12, 1901.  Archbishop Michael Corrigan officiated at the pontifical mass.  The elaborate ceremony included a string orchestra, a double quartet and chorus.

This photo, most likely taken at the time of the consecration, reveals the brass and art glass electric and gas chandeliers and the vividly-colored encaustic floor tiles.  photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

By the time of the consecration the residential neighborhood around the church was becoming more and more commercial.  In 1895 James Gordon Bennett had moved his New York Herald into its stunning new building on Herald Square nearby.   In July 1901 Roland H. Macy announced he would commence construction of his massive Macy's department store engulfing the block between 34th and 35th Streets, from Broadway to Seventh Avenue.  As entire blocks of rowhouses were destroyed, the congregants of the Church of the Holy Innocents were displaced.

By 1910 there were not enough students to fill the church's school.  On October 1 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted that the church had leased the five-story building at No. 130 West 37th Street "formerly used as the school house" to Philip Levey "who will alter the same for mercantile purposes."

With stores, factories and the theater district engulfing the church, Holy Innocents slowly became more important for workers than residents.  It eventually became known as The Actor's Church.  It was the scene of thespian weddings, such as that of vaudeville player Earl J. Riegler and Agnes E. Lynch on February 3, 1913.

Office and factory workers routinely filed into the church for communion at lunch time.  Ironically, one of those who arrived at noon on January 19, 1921 was a fireman.  As Harry K. Ness knelt at the chancel rail, smoke seeped into the sanctuary.

A fire, believed to have been caused by defective wiring, had broken out in the basement and spread to the vestry room.  Ness rushed out of the church and called in an alarm.  His company, Engine No. 26, was just around the corner and soon had the blaze under control, although there was considerable damage to the vestry room.  "Also a quantity of religious vestments were scorched," reported The Evening World.

On August 1, 1932 fire broke out in the 41-story Ritz Tower at No. 113 East 57th Street.  While firefighters from several companies battled the blaze, fumes from the paint shop in the basement caused a massive explosion.  As their comrades rushed in to remove the injured, a second explosion occurred within three minutes of the first.  Eight firemen were killed either immediately or as a result of injuries later.   For years afterward an annual memorial mass was held in the Church of the Holy Innocents for the lost fire fighters.

The once free-standing mid-Victorian church was crowded in by commercial structures in the 20th century.  The parish continued to serve the Garment District workers and to offer community relief.  Following the devastating 1970 typhoon that struck the Philippines, the Church of the Holy Innocents held a traditional Filipino midnight folk mass on Christmas Eve to raise funds for the victims. 

In 2007 Pope Benedict XVI rolled back some of the restrictions of the Second Vatican Council.  Once again Catholics had the right to celebrate the Latin Mass.   Rev. Thomas Kallumady, then pastor of the Church of the Holy Innocents, responded by offering one Latin Mass per week.  It was so well received that by 2010 Latin Mass was being offered daily.

By now decades of candle and incense smoke and clumsy restorations had left Constantino Brumidi's magnificent altar fresco damaged and dirt-covered.  Conservator Christiana Cunningham-Adams, a specialist in Brumidi work, began the first phase of restoration, which included stopping the painting's disintegration.  Then in February 2011 the firm of Parma Conservation was brought in to work with Cunningham-Adams to remove varnish, grime, and over-painting.  A five-member team and a full laboratory was established on site to restore the mural.

photo via Conservation & Design

In 2014 the Church of the Holy Innocents was the only New York City church to offer a daily traditional Latin Mass.   But that seemed to be coming to a close when that spring an archdiocesan panel recommended that the church be closed.  It triggered an unexpected act of defiance and retaliation.

In May a visiting priest, Rev. Justin Wylie, addressed the congregation, saying they should "be obedient," but to also speak their minds rather than being "turned out like squatters."  Within two weeks the New York Archdiocese removed him from his job at the Mission of the Holy See at the United Nations.

Congregants of the Church of the Holy Innocents waited, concerned that their parish church would be shuttered.   Then, on October 26, Cardinal Timothy M. Dolan announced the names of the 31 churches which would be closed.  The Church of the Holy Innocents was not on the list--it was, as worded by The New York Times, "spared."

The Church of the Holy Innocents, once a comforting refuge for struggling Irish immigrants, is now a quiet oasis in the gritty, bustling Garment District where the devout and art lovers alike can view a recently-restored American art treasure.

photographs by the author

St. Bernard's Church - 330-334 West 14th Street

A lithograph by The Graphic Co. depicted the newly-completed church in a bucolic setting.  The Catholic Churches of New York City, 1892 (copyright expired)

By the 1850s residential development reached the district just north of Greenwich Village.  West 14th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenue saw the rise of handsome brick or brownstone faced mansions, including several for members of the wealthy Havemeyer family.

In 1867, just three years after his ordination, Rev. Gabriel A. Healy was tasked by Archbishop John McCloskey to form the parish of St. Bernard in the rapidly-developing area.  Early in 1868 the 27-year old priest secured improvised quarters for the fledgling congregation.  The New York Times later described the accommodations:

There was an old wagon factory in West Thirteenth Street which belonged to the Knickerbocker Ice Company.  It was a picture of dilapidation and ruin.  Father Healy looked it over and determined that he must make it answer his purpose for a time.  He accordingly purchased it and fitted up the second story as a chapel.

The first mass was celebrated there on Whitsunday, May 31, 1868.  Within a year the congregation of St. Bernard's had significantly grown and on May 1, 1869 three building lots were purchased on West 14th Street.  Bazaars and other fund-raising events soon brought in sufficient funds to begin construction.  On October 13, 1872, for instance, Rev. Henry A. Brann delivered a lecture on "The Catholic Church on the Island of Manhattan--Past, Present, and Future."  The announcement noted "Proceeds to aid in the erection of the new St. Bernard's church, West Fourteenth st."

The Irish-born architect Patrick Charles Keely received the commission.   St. Bernard's Church would be one of the nearly 600 Roman Catholic churches he would eventually design.  The architect splashed his traditional Gothic Revival design with touches of Ruskinian Gothic, then topped the towers with unexpected French-style conical spires.  Sitting on a granite base, Keely announced it would be "built of Belleville stone, trimmed with Nova Scotia stone."

Ground was broken on May 8, 1872 and a year later construction had reached two stories.  On May 11, 1873 a massive cornerstone-laying ceremony was held.   A rope was attached to the facade and stretched across 14th Street to a private house from which was hung a gigantic flag.  The New York Herald remarked "from the line depended an immense American ensign, displaying the beauteous stars and stripes."  A second rope was hung with red, white and blue pennants, the flags of Germany, France and Ireland, as well as the Papal flag.

The New York Herald estimated the crowd on 14th Street at 10,000 and The New York Times noted "even the tops of the houses in the vicinity were thronged with crowds of spectators."   Almost directly across the street, at No. 323 West 14th Street, was the home of the mayor, Frederick Havemeyer.  The Herald reported "The family of Mayor Havemeyer, as well as the residents of the other aristocratic mansions in the block, witnessed the ceremony."

The Herald was especially energetic in its description.  "The fair sex was more than usually represented, and the crowds of people who filled streets, sidewalks, stoops and windows, together with the waving flags and banners, made the scene a most picturesque one, seldom seen on this side of the Atlantic, and only occasionally to be witnessed on the banks of the Tiber, the Danube or the Mauzanozes."

A procession of hundreds of children, religious groups and clerics left the 13th Street church.  It was headed by the Society of the Holy Angels, described by the Herald as "Thirty young ladies, in the glory of maidenhood, attired in white."   Group after group proceeded into the building, followed by the procession of clergy, headed by two bishops and John McCloskey, who was now an archbishop.

Following the service, the zinc box was placed within the cornerstone.  In it were copper and gold coins and paper currency, copies of the local newspapers, and a copper plate engraved with the date, the names of President Grant, Governor Dix, Mayor Havemeyer, the archbishop and Rev. Healy.  St. Bernard's Church became the first in the United States consecrated by an American Cardinal.

The Herald mentioned that "it is expected that [the church] will be fully completed and ready for the celebration of mass by the opening week of October."  As it turned out, the dedication was not celebrated until May 30, 1875.  The New York Times later explained, the "delay having been caused by the panic of 1873."

St. Bernard's Church was 67-feet wide and stretched more than 126 feet deep.  The building cost $185,320.50, bringing the total cost including the land to over $200,000--more than $4 million today.  The Catholic Churches of New York City called it "a conspicuous monument of the piety and zeal of priest and people.  Of a true ecclesiastical style, good and inspiring, it attracts the eye of thousands passing up and down the adjacent avenue."

The church was not only the scene of worship and the fashionable weddings and funerals of notable New Yorkers; but its social hall was a center of Irish activism.  Home to Branch No. 10 of the Parnell Land League, it was where animated discussions were held, such as those following the May 1882 assassinations of Lord Frederick Cavendish and Thomas Henry Burke.

There was no blame put on the Irish revolutionaries.  Instead, reported The New York Times, "The different  speakers argued that the assassination was the result of a conspiracy plotted outside of Ireland, and executed by emissaries sent thither to throw the people 'off the scene.'"

As violence, including bombings, continued in England,  James H. Casserly pushed for a diplomatic solution within St. Bernard's Church a year later.  He told members on April 22, 1883 that he "was opposed to the use of dynamite, which had done more than anything else to injure the cause of Ireland."  Nevertheless, both he and John Egan admitted that physical force should be used "when the proper time came."

But by September 6, 1885, Casserly had apparently decided the proper time had come.  The Times reported that he told supporters that night that "He excused dynamiters, Invincibles, and Fenians, on account of the nobility of their common aim, and urged it on the people as a bounden duty to subscribe their sympathy and their aid."

In the meantime, the sanctuary upstairs continued to be a vibrant (and more peaceful) element in neighborhood life.  The affluence of the congregation was evident when the assistant rector, Rev. John J. Riordan, was transferred after 10 years at St. Bernard's.   The New York Times reported on October 28, 1883 that he "has received from the people of the parish $2,000 as a slight testimonial of their devotion and respect."  That going-away gift was worth nearly $50,000 in today's dollars.

In December 1874--the first Christmas in the new church--life-sized wax figures of the nativity were put on display in the church hall.  It was no small affair, with painted backdrops and at least nine full-sized figures.  The following year Rev. Healy decided to "dispense with some of the wax figures and introduce living characters."  For this he wrote the Nativity Play or Christmas Cantata.

Modern attendees of church nativity plays fully expect amateur productions with cardboard mangers and children in homemade costumes.  This was nothing of the kind.  The two-hour production included an adult cast, complex scene changes and a original musical scores.  The play included scenes no longer included in the Christmas story representations today--like the gruesome Massacre of the Innocents.

Two of the several scenes in the Christmas play presented annually at St. Bernard's Church.  The Nativity Play or Christmas Cantata, by Rev. Gabriel A. Healy, 1885 (copyright expired)

After much prodding, in 1885 Rev. Gabriel Healy published a detailed book so other parishes could stage the popular play.

Just four days before Christmas 1890 tragedy struck.  Father McLaughlin smelled smoke at around 5:30 in the morning on December 21.  Investigating, he saw flames through the stained glass windows.  The Evening World reported "He aroused Father Healy, who ran to the corner of Ninth avenue, where he met Policeman Mooney, who turned in an alarm."

By now, said the newspaper, the church "was a mass of fire."  Before long the roof collapsed.   "The occupants of the fashionable dwelling-houses in the neighborhood had been awakened," said The Evening World, and they massed on the Ninth Avenue elevated railroad to watch the spectacle.

The spires had already collapsed when this sketch was drawn.  The Evening World, December 22, 1890 (copyright expired)

The fire raged for more than two hours.  Afterwards, reported The Times, "The altar, the organ, the galleries, and practically the entire interior of the church, with its costly paintings, stained-glass windows, and statuary are ruined."  Because they were enclosed in a fire-proof safe, the "sacred vessels, the chalices, ciboriums, ostensoriums, and the holy Eucharist were saved."

Neighbors and congregants quickly passed on the rumor of a miracle.  The Evening World reported "Of all the sacred images only a crucifix, in the centre of the church, was left standing.  It could be plainly seen from the street.  Many said that it was unscorched."

Christmas and subsequent services were held in the salesroom of the New-York Consolidated Card Company at No. 226 West 14th Street.   Already Rev. Healy was planning to rebuild.

The Sun later reported that Monsignor James H. McGean, one of Father Healy's closest friends,"heard of the fire [and] went to Fourteenth street and found Father Healy, instead of weeping over the ruins, out hunting up architects and contractors for a new church."


Less than a year after the fire, on November 8, 1891, the rebuilt church was dedicated.  The services were officiated by Archbishop Michael Corrigan.  The Times called the church "a monument of credit to the Rev. Gabriel A. Healy" and noted it "now has a congregation of 10,000 souls."  While the interiors were handsomely restored, notably absent were the tower spires.

On June 28, 1911 Rev. Healy underwent an appendicitis operation.  He was recovering well when, a week later, a heat wave took its toll on the 72-year old.  On Sunday, July 2, he began to complain of the heat.  Two days later he died in the rectory.   His doctor attributed "exhaustion caused by the heat" to his death.  He had been St. Bernard's pastor for 41 years.

St. Bernard's continued to be a visible influence in the neighborhood.  In 1916 a new parochial school was opened on West 13th Street.  The size of the congregation was evidenced in 1918 when a service flag was dedicated in honor of the 312 parish members who had served in World War I.

In the meantime, a new parish one block to the east hinted at the changing demographics of the once upscale residential neighborhood.   In 1902 the Augustinians of the Assumption founded Our Lady of Guadalupe.  It was the first Spanish-language Catholic parish in New York City and its congregants were working class immigrants.

As the 20th century progressed and the 14th Street neighborhood changed, the congregation of St. Bernard's Church diminished, while that of Our Lady of Guadalupe increased.

photo by Elis Shin via http://placematters.net/node/1398

Perhaps the first hint at the interaction of the two parishes was on January 27, 1996.  Every year in Mexico hundreds of runners form a torch relay between Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in Mexico City to the church of Padre Jesus in Chinantla, more than 300 miles away.  That year a miniature version began in Brooklyn at St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church.  Two torchbearers ran six miles, ending up not at Our Lady of Guadalupe, as might have been expected, but at St. Bernard's Church.

The New York Times reported that Mexican immigrants then gathered "for Mass and a feast with mariachi music."  For one day a year, said the article, "Flower sellers, clerks, mechanics and janitors can forget their long hours of work."

Seven years later, on April 14 2003, the newspaper reported that "Hundreds of worshipers carrying palm fronds swaying in the breeze left Our Lady of Guadalupe church in a Palm Sunday procession yesterday.  They walked one block west along 14th Street to St. Bernard's church, where they deposited a life-size portrait of the Blessed Virgin near the altar to symbolize the marriage of the two Roman Catholic parishes."

The article explained "The parishes are merging, according to the Archdiocese of New York, for a simple reason: St. Bernard's has the space, and Our Lady has the bodies.  They both have a lot of debt."

photograph by the author

Within the next few months the merged parishes became Our Lady of Guadalupe at St. Bernard's.  The interior was remodeled and the altars of the two historic churches were "literally combined."  Many of the artworks not part of the old structure were transferred to the St. Bernard building and new paintings of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Blessed Juan Diego, and the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe were installed.  The bright new color scheme and heavy use of gold was a stark contrast to the former somber interior.

The parish continues to be a vibrant part of the neighborhood, especially for the Spanish-speaking population.  And the building, where fiery Irishmen once debated methods to free their homeland and a massive fire threatened to erase it, remains an imposing presence on the block.

St. Mary's R. C. Church -- No. 438 Grand Street

In June 2015 scaffolding testifies to further restoration.

Despite New York City’s Protestant beginnings, in the years following the Revolutionary War the Roman Catholic population had significantly increased.  The city got its first bishop and in 1815 St. Patrick’s Cathedral was completed on Mott Street.

In 1826 the Vatican appointed John DuBois to succeed Bishop John Connolly.  At the time, the former Rutgers and Delancey estates had been dissected into building plots and a new neighborhood was forming.  There was talk of a new Roman Catholic church to service the area which would, generations later, be known as the Lower East Side.

Coincidentally, the Seventh Presbyterian Congregation had fallen on hard times and was obliged to sell its church on Sheriff Street.  The Roman Catholic Church purchased the small brick-faced frame building in April 1826 for $7,000.  It had a tower and bell, making the new St. Mary’s Church the first Catholic church in New York City with a bell.  (Bells in chapels were prohibited by law in Ireland and the habit seems to have carried over.)

Bishop DuBois dedicated the church on March 25, 1827.  Church records would record, “Nearly every priest in the city was present.”

Religious prejudice against both Catholics and Irish in New York was strong and often violent.  Armed Catholic defenders would have to fight back an angry rabble in 1844 intent on burning St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  But more than a decade before that incident, St. Mary’s would be the target.

Unlike the attack on the cathedral, it was a lone person who broke into St. Mary’s Church on November 9, 1831.  Although the church diplomatically blamed "a burglar," The Evening World later pointed at the Irish Protestants.  It wrote that "respectable Catholics kept out of their way, while the fighting Catholics went out to meet them.  There were riots, murders and occasional burnings."

The church was set on fire and completely destroyed; only the heavy iron safe remained in the smoldering ruins.   The pastor, Rev. Luke Berry who had established the school in the basement of the church, fought the blaze valiantly.  Injured and exhausted, he died on December 7.

Two weeks later, on November 23, 1831, land was purchased at Grand and Ridge Streets from Peter Allen for $9,000, and ground was broken in January 1832.  The cornerstone of the new St. Mary’s Church was laid on April 30 by Bishop DuBois.

While the edifice rose, the priests of St. Mary’s turned their attention to the cholera epidemic that broke out that summer.  The Catholic Church in the United States of America noted “the severity of the labors of the priests in attending the dying may be imagined from the statement of a parishioner that he saw five coffins carried out from one house in one morning.”

Mass was celebrated in the basement of the new structure beginning in December.  Then, on June 9, 1833, Bishop DuBois was back to dedicate the completed church.  As was expected in the 1830s, the church took the shape of a Greek temple.  Four massive brownstone Doric columns supported a classical portico.  The side walls were constructed of undressed fieldstone

Almost immediately a parochial school was opened and a year later the pastor, Rev. William Quarter, brought three Sisters of Charity to the church.  They opened St. Mary’s Academy in May 1835.  But progressive steps like these were relative.  Parishioners were apparently still governed by the will of the pastor.  

On July 7, 1835, the Morning Herald reported, “On Sunday before last, as we have been informed, the Rev. Wm. Quarter, one of the Catholic priests who officiate in St. Mary’s church, in Grand Street, embraced the opportunity during the morning service, to denounce and prohibit to his congregation the reading or perusal of the Morning Herald, under the usual penalties made and provided by the holy church in all such and similar cases.”

Accommodations for the growing congregation were made in 1840 when galleries were erected on either side of the organ for school children and overflow crowds.  At the same time a handsome Georgian-style bell tower, complete with a clock, was erected above the entrance.

In 1840 a bell tower was added to the Greek-inspired church -- from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York, http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult&VBID=24UAYWGL9S5C&SMLS=1&RW=1536&RH=770

The influx of Irish immigrants exploded the population of the area and continued to tax the physical limits of the church building.  In 1861 the parish was split and St. Teresa’s parish was formed to handle the overflow.  Only seven years later another split resulted in the parish of St. Rose.

The immigrant congregation was, on the whole, poor.  St. Mary’s Church responded with charity.  The Ladies’ Benevolent Society, formed in 1849, distributed nearly $15,000 among the poor in its first 12 years.  The women held a “fair and festival” on February 16, 1860 to raise money for the poor.  Church fairs were a common vehicle for fund-raising.  The New York Times described the event, held at the City Assembly Rooms, the following day:

The attendance was large and liberal.  A band of music was in attendance.  Pendant from the balcony were several American flags, with the green flag of Erin, baring the golden harp wreathed by the shamrock, proudly hanging in the center. Around the rooms extended tables loaded with every variety of inviting edibles, captivating toys, freshly-culled flowers, and choicest books.  As usual at fairs, pretty maidens presided at the tables, and there was a constant lively competition in buying chances.

The women collected about $3,000 at the fair—a hefty $87,000 by today’s standards.

Within a few months the attention of the parishioners of St. Mary’s, along with the rest of New York City’s citizens, would be riveted upon activities in the South.  On April 12, 1861, Confederate troops opened fire on Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina.  The Civil War was under way.

Three days later President Lincoln issued a Proclamation calling for 75,000 militiamen and, on the same day, Robert E. Lee was offered command of the Union Army.  On Saturday morning, April 27, St. Mary’s made an unmistakable show of its patriotism.  The New York Times reported that Rev. Michael McCarron, “in the presence of about 5,000 persons, hoisted the ‘Stars and Stripes’ on the cupola of that edifice.  The national airs were sung by the children of the Sunday School and several addresses were delivered.”

In 1870 an enlargement and updating of the church building was proposed.  The old rectory on Ridge Street, directly behind the church, was demolished in order to extend the depth of the structure.  On July 1870 the $93,000 project began.   The dedication of the renovated St. Mary’s was held on February 26, 1871.

The building had not only been extended--it emerged from the make-over unrecognizable.  Irish-born architect Patrick Charles Keely specialized in ecclesiastical design and worked almost exclusively for the Roman Catholic Church.  According to architectural historian Kevin F. Decker, he would be responsible for every 19^th century Roman Catholic cathedral in New England.

The fieldstone extension stretched far to the rear.

While he continued the unassuming fieldstone along the sides, he stripped off the Greek Revival façade and replaced it with a rather prim version of the Romanesque Revival style.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone, its severely symmetrical design featured two square end towers topped by twin steeples.  Keely’s disciplined façade was offset by his interior renovations.  A stunning leaded and stained glass dome spilled light into the sanctuary adorned with Corinthian pilasters.  A stained glass skylight over the chancel provided an ethereal light.

But St. Mary’s Church continued to grow and change—a virtual work in progress since the laying of the cornerstone.  On August 9, 1885, The New York Times reported, “The improvements at St. Mary’s Church in Grand-street, are approaching completion.  New pews have been placed in the edifice and the position of the side altars changed so that the sanctuary has been much beautified. The old pews have been given to other churches.”   Assuming that the “old pews” dated from the 1871 renovation, they were only 14 years old at the time.

The flood of Irish immigrants into the Grand Street neighborhood is evidenced by the confirmation service in St. Mary’s Church on May 19, 1886.  Archbishop Corrigan was there to officiate as 630 candidates received the Sacrament of Confirmation.  

In 1914 there appears to be a coat of white wash over the red brick.  The Catholic Church in the United States (copyright expired

The neighborhood was seeing another flood of immigrants by now—those of the Jewish faith.  And so, despite the hundreds of confirmations at St. Mary’s Church every year, it was one in 1890 that especially stood out.

On May 25 that year The Sun reported on the congregation’s newest member, Dr. Simon Koppe, Ph.D.  “Mr. Koppe was born of orthodox Hebrew parents.  He has studied very assiduously, the priests at St. Mary’s Church say, for the last eight weeks, and three weeks ago he was baptized into the faith.  Yesterday he received his first communion and was confirmed.”   The eye-brow raising event was preceded a month earlier by the baptism of Koppel’s 11-month-old child.

A calamitous lightning storm hit New York on June 6, 1893.  Severe damage was reported throughout the city, including two strikes to one of St. Mary’s steeples.  The following day, The Sun reported, “The church has two octagonal towers of wood and slate on the Grand street front.  These towers were crowned wit two wooden crosses four feet high, gilded, and set upon wooden pedestals.”

At 3:55 that afternoon, the first bolt hit the western tower.  “A shower of slate and bricks and bits of wood fell into the street.  A section of the pedestal of the cross was hurled across Grand street, and nearly hit Butcher Maloney of 439.”  A four-foot section of brickwork crashed to the street below and pieces of slate rained down.  Only about a minute later another lightning bolt hit the cross, exploding it into wooden shards.

An enterprising passerby realized the financial potential in the mishap.  “A prompt citizen dashed up in the rain and gathered up the bits of the cross to sell for relics to Father Hughes’s congregation,” reported the newspaper.

 

By the turn of the century it was not just poverty, but crime that tainted the neighborhood.  On August 28, 1905 the building next door at No. 436 Grand Street was raided.  Detectives found an illegal prize fight going on there.

Following Father Nicholas J. Hughes’s death four years later, the New-York Tribune commented on the area.  “St. Mary’s Church was once the leading Catholic parish in New York and has always been in high favor with those of the clergy who aspire to irremovable rectorships. It is now in the centre of a large foreign population, but there still remain many old families who will maintain the church and two schools, one for boys and the other for girls.”

The newspaper had earlier reported on Father Hughes’s funeral.  On April 22 it reported, “Those who were unable to gain admission to the church lined both sides of Grand street while the services were in progress, and waited two hours to get a last look at the dead priest.  Ten clergymen took part in the services.  Twelve hundred of the former and present members of St. Mary’s parish paraded in the funeral procession."

Unlike in other parts of the city, the Catholic parishioners of St. Mary’s Church coexisted peacefully with their Jewish neighbors.  In February 1919 Rev. James M. Byrnes struck out at bigotry.  “I wish to state that it is a shame and an outrage to have to read so often the uncalled for remarks in regard to the Jewish people living on the East Side.  As a rule, I am certain that the ones who make these assertions are highbrows, and scarcely know, or rather never have been on, the East Side.”

He berated the “fakirs” and reminded them of the patriotic support of the Jewish community during the war.  “Did the Jewish boys of the East Side go ‘over there’ in hundreds?  Did the Jewish father and mothers of the East Side buy Liberty bonds?  We are proud to say they did, and were glad and happy to do so.”

On May 9, 1926, St. Mary’s Church celebrated its centennial in a much-changed neighborhood.  Where once small private homes lined the streets, now tenement buildings dwarfed earlier structures.  The Lower East Side was predominately Jewish now; yet St. Mary’s Church forged on, the third-oldest Roman Catholic Church in New York.  Cardinal Hayes officiated at the Pontifical Mass “with men and women of different faiths mingling with the parishioners” that day.

At the time of the centennial, St. Mary's Church was hemmed in by other structures.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Throughout the 20^th century St. Mary’s Church continued to minister to the humble residents of the neighborhood.  One of the most memorable and poignant moments came on January 18, 2006 when the funeral of seven-year-old Nixzmary Brown was held here.  The innocent girl had been tortured and beaten to death by her stepfather, Cesar Rodriguez, in an explosion of rage over a cup of yogurt.  He told reporters she was a “troublemaker.”

An honor guard of uniformed United States Marines carried the small white casket into the church and back out.  The overflow crowd stood in the drizzling rain outside on Grand Street.  The New York Times journalist Alan Feuer summed it up in one sentence: “There are few things more confusing than a young girl’s coffin.”

The neighborhood around St. Mary’s Church continues to change.  Building go up and come down.  Today the parish is largely Hispanic.  But the church building, for decades changed and changed again, survives much as it was in 1871.

 non-credited photographs by the author

UPDATE:  The church was renovated around 2024 under the direction of architect Hans Roegele.  It was designated an individual New York City landmark in April 2026.