The Lost 1870 St. Thomas' Church - Fifth Avenue and 53rd Street

 

from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

In July 1824 the newly-organized St. Thomas' Church laid the cornerstone for its first home at the northwest corner of Broadway and Houston Street.  In an address a century later, on December 6, 1923, the Rev. E. Clowes Chorley would recall, "The choice of such a location was a venture of faith.  It was far removed from the population.  The residential section centered around City Hall Park and St. John's Park.  Houston Street was surrounded by large open spaces dotted with big trees, and it was freely predicted that no congregation could be gathered so far uptown."

Designed by Joseph R. Brady and John McVickar, the Gothic Revival style structure was completed in 1826.  The neighborhood that once, it was feared, could not attract a congregation grew stylish and the burgeoning St. Thomas' congregation was affluent.  

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

Fire destroyed the church in 1851, and a replacement building was erected on its site.  But by the time the new church was dedicated, fashionable society had forged northward.  Rev. Dr. William Ferdinand Morgan was elected rector in 1857.  "It was evident, however, that the church most move further uptown," said Rev. E. Clowes Chorley.  The neighborhood, he explained, had become "the 'tenderloin' of New York and the whole section was seized for amusement and shameful vice."

The last service was held on April 29, 1866.  "Lots were purchased at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifty-third Street--a location then in the fields," said Chorley.  Esteemed architect Richard Upjohn was hired to design the new structure.  (He worked with his son, Richard Michell Upjohn on the project.)  The cornerstone was laid on October 14, 1868 and the structure completed two years later.

On October 6, 1870 the church was opened for worship.  The Upjohns had created a Gothic Revival style edifice clad in brownstone that demanded attention.  A 260-foot-high corner bell tower dominated the design.  Romantic crenellated towers, elaborately carved spires, crockets, Gothic-arched openings, and a substantial stained glass rose window combined to create an impressive structure.

The dedication service was officiated by Episcopal Bishops Potter, Littlejohn and Talbot.  The New York Times reported, "there were 150 ministers present, about half of whom wore vestments."  The newspaper noted that the building had cost $650,000--more than $13 million today.  "It has two organs which cost $15,000, one of which is worked by electricity, and two memorial windows, one being the gift of Mr. Lovett Rodgers and the other of Mrs. Moffat and Mrs. Mitchell, the mother of Maggie, the famous actress, whose father was present yesterday."

If Reverend E. Clowes Chorley felt that the location was "in the fields," it would not be for long.  Brownstone mansions were cropping up all around and Manhattan's wealthiest families were quickly filling the recently vacant blocks.  The upscale tenor of the neighborhood was reflected in the congregation of St. Thomas' Church.  On April 6, 1874 The New York Times reported on Easter services, saying, "Few if any of the richer congregations which attend the fine church edifices in the upper part of this City surpassed in point of numbers and display the crowds that were assembled yesterday morning at St. Thomas' Protestant Episcopal Church."

When this photo was taken around 1876, mansions like the one in the foreground were rising.  In the background is the spire of the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church   from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

The article estimated the standing-room-0nly crowd at 2,700 with 1,000 turned away.  At the time for communion, "handsomely dressed and delicate ladies were crowded and jostled up the aisles until they reached the chancel steps, and endured the fatigue of standing nearly two hours in order to participate in the services."

St. Thomas' Church was, of course, the scene of socially-important weddings and funerals.  One such event on May 10, 1877 was the marriage of Clara N. Hammond, daughter of Dr. W. A. Hammond, the former Surgeon-General of the United States, to the Marquis Manifrdi Lanza di Mercato Bianco.  The Italian marquis was the third son of the Duke of Brato.  

Whenever an American heiress received a title through  marriage, society took notice.  The New York Times said, "The interest evinced in the ceremony was intense.  Opera-glasses were plentifully employed, and little knots in cozy pews industriously criticised bride and groom, their attendants, and the habiliments and ornaments of their friends."

Christmas Day ceremonies that year would be especially notable.  During the processional, "Hark! The Herald Angeles Sing," King Kalakaua of Hawaii and his royal party arrived.  The New York Times reported that they "sat in chairs placed for them in the front half of the centre aisle."  Outside, throngs of New Yorkers hoped to get a glimpse of the king.  "At the conclusion of the services a well-dressed, if not a well-bred, crowd gathered on the sidewalk and awaited the exit of the King."

In 1878 the extended Vanderbilt family began changing the face of the western side of Fifth Avenue from 51st street to 57th Street with the construction of sumptuous mansions.  Simultaneously St. Thomas' Church was doing extensive interior decoration, completed in time for Easter Services.

Some of the most important artists of the Esthetic Period had been commissioned for the work.   The new altarpiece had been designed by John La Farge and its sculptured elements executed by Augustus St. Gaudens.   On May 6, 1878 The New York Times reported, 

One sees a piece of shrine-work by an Italian jeweler of the sixteenth century.  But in it stands or rather is glued, in the centre, a modern cross, severely simple and gilt all over.  About the cross are tiers of angels worked out by the young sculptor, St. Gaudens (of New-York) after a hasty sketch by La Farge.  They are adoring the cross in attitudes of devotion which are meant to be neither constrained nor theatrical.

La Farge created panels on either side of the alter, their frames executed in "black wood, curiously inlaid with mother-of-pearl, with gilding and silvering."  The New York Times opined, "They might have been conceived, although not executed, in Florence, during the ages when Florence was still full of the traditions of the great sculptors."  La Farge's redecoration included a gold roof over the vault, new stained glass windows, and "the frieze that runs under the windows of the apse; the inclined lane that separates the frieze from the paintings; the gilded frieze with emblems of the apostles underneath; pilasters between the clay angels and paintings."  The critic praised the project, saying "the managers of this piece of decoration have gone to a man who is unquestionably an artist, and they have secured a work of art which will make their church always notable, if not famous."

On November 3, 1895 The New York Times reported, "The arrangements for the marriage of Miss Consuelo Vanderbilt, the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. William Kissam Vanderbilt, and granddaughter of William H. Vanderbilt, to Charles Richard John Spencer Churchill, the ninth Duke of Marlborough, have been completed."  The engagement had been announced at a glittering ball at Marble House, the Newport estate of the bride's parents.

Behind the scenes the match was anything but romantic.  Consuelo Vanderbilt was in love with another man, Winthrop Rutherford.  But her mother was determined that she should marry a nobleman.  (Alva Vanderbilt most likely was concerned about securing her daughter's social standing, given that Alva and William Vanderbilt had divorced earlier that year--an action that could have ruined Consuelo's reputation.)  Consuelo was forced into the marriage.

The wedding took place on November 6, 1895.  The New York Times said it was "without exception, the most magnificent ever celebrated in this country, which was quite fitting, in view of the great wealth and social position of the bride and the high rank of the bridegroom."  Alva Vanderbilt's decision to divorce her husband had not sat well with her in-laws.  The article noted, "The only regret that might be expressed is that...outside of the bride's immediate family, none of the Vanderbilts were in attendance."

Liveried coachmen line the sidewalk outside the church during the Vanderbilt-Churchill wedding.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The church was decorated with palms, flowers and ribbons of pink and white satin.  "It took thousands of yards of smilax and holly and hundreds of posies" to make the garlands which streamed from the dome of the church, reported the article.  "It took a score of people several days to complete the work."  Music was supplied by a symphony orchestra and a choir of 60 voices.

In November 1895 two stained glass windows by Tiffany Glass & Decorating Company were unveiled.  Designed by Frederick Wilson, they represented St. Martin and Dorcas.  The New York Times remarked, "There are many windows of great merit in St. Thomas's Church, and they are admired by all lovers of ecclesiastical art, yet this new memorial will attract more attention, probably, than those that are older and more familiar to those who attend the church."

Another notable society wedding was that of Pauline Whitney, daughter of former Secretary of the Navy William C. Whitney, to Almeric Hugh Paget on November 12, 1895.  Society weddings always attracted what newspapers termed "gawkers" and this was no exception.  "The crowd extended fully a block up and down the street, and lined along the curb as if some great procession were soon to pass by.  Most of the women appeared to be of the class that loves to read the so-called society papers," said The New York Times.

Ivy had covered much of the facade by the time this hand-colored postcard was produced.

Five months later, on April 6, 1896 former President Benjamin Harrison married Mary Scott Lord Dimmick, the widow of W. E. Dimmick.  As had been the case with Consuelo Vanderbilt's wedding, newspapers made note of conspicuous absences among those present.  The New-York Tribune remarked, "The fact that General Harrison's daughter, Mrs. McKee, and his son, Russell B. Harrison, were not at the wedding, caused considerable comment.  It has been rumored that Mr. Harrison's family were strongly opposed to their father's marriage to Mrs. Dimmick."

Perhaps the last of the "penny princesses" (American heiresses who married foreign nobles) to be wed in the church was May Goelet, the only daughter of millionaire Ogden Goelet.  Her marriage to Henry John Innes-Ker, eighth Duke of Roxburghe, took place on November 10, 1903.  Once again the streets were packed with gawkers.

The New York Times reported, "One disagreeable incident was the mobbing of Miss Goelet's carriage by thousands of inordinately curious women.  In the carriage with the bride-to-be was her brother Robert Goelet...The crowd of women was quick to recognize the bridal veil, and immediately the carriage was surrounded by well-dressed women, who did not hesitate to poke their heads into the open window of the vehicle.  Miss Goelet was plainly frightened, and her brother asked the police to hold the women back."

The floral decorations of the Goelet-Ker wedding.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York 

Shortly after 6:00 on the morning of August 8, 1905 the housekeeper of the rectory, Mrs. Sandsbach discovered a fire raging in the sanctuary of the church.  She ran screaming into the street, alerting policeman Thomas Hewitt who pulled the handle of a nearby firebox.  Within hours the magnificent structure, filled with irreplaceable artwork, was a smoking ruin.

The New York Times said, "Despite the efforts of fifty fire companies, to save St. Thomas's Episcopal Church...one of the most notable edifices in the city, with perhaps the richest congregation in the whole country, was destroyed by fire."

The following day, while the debris was still smoking, the congregation was already laying plans to rebuild.  The replacement building, designed by Ralph Adams Cram and Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue, was completed in 1913.

from the collection of the New York Public Library

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"The Equestrian Washington" - Union Square

On June 22, 1855 the editor of The New York Times lamented the fact that "a small party of citizens of New-York have clubbed together and subscribed fifty-thousand dollars for a statue which has been modeled by our countryman, H. K. Browne [sic]."  The editorial noted "Our New-York monument will be an equestrian statue of gigantic proportions, and will be placed in Union-square."

The New York Times was clear in its condemnation of any statue.  It applauded the fact that during the Revolution the British statues had been destroyed.  "New-York, as yet, is free from any monumental pillars or effigies, and the fact is most creditable to the good sense of our practical and busy people."  The writer applied the logic that in ancient times monuments were necessary to record history.   But the invention of the printing press had done away with that need.  "A nation that has books has no need of monuments," insisted the editor.

Saying that "Every child knows Washington," and "his history is on every book-shelf," the article contended there was no need for a monument.  The editor called the raising of statues "idolatry, "and said "a monument is something repugnant to the common-sense of a practical and intelligent people."

The "small party of citizens" who had raised the funds for the Washington statue included some of the wealthiest and most powerful men of New York--among them William Astor, August Belmont, Peter Lorillard, James Lenox, Robert B. Minturn, Robert L. Taylor, and W. C. Rhinelander.

Henry Kirke Brown was in the last stages of the two-year project when The New York Times editorial was published.  An apprentice sculptor, John Quincy Adams Ward, who would become one of America's great artists, had been highly involved in the work in Brown's Brooklyn studio.  Decades later, in May 1886, the Magazine of Western History noted that when workers involved in the "mechanical work" went on strike, Ward convinced Brown they could do the work themselves.  "Ward says he passed more days in the bronze horse's belly than Jonah spent minutes in the belly of the whale."

Two weeks before The New York Times editorial, a journalist from the Springfield, Maine, Republican, visited the Ames Manufacturing Company in Chicopee, Maine where the statue was being cast.  The newspaper said the work, still in dismembered pieces, "is spoken of in the highest terms of praise."

Brown used the famous bust of Washington executed by Jean-Antoine Houdon in 1785 as his model.  He depicted the general on horseback (making this only the second equestrian statue in the United States) and posed him as he might have appeared on Evacuation Day, November 25, 1783.

The morning of July 4, 1856 saw pouring rain in New York City.  Nevertheless, a large parade preceded the unveiling ceremonies where newspapers estimated the crown at between 8,000 and 9,000.  The weather was not the only glitch in the ceremonies.  The coverings became caught and firemen had to erect ladders to disentangle it.

Finally, at about 9:15, the covering fell off and, according to The New York Herald, "the statue was hailed with the most enthusiastic cheers by the crowd...The bands played 'Hail Columbia'--the ladies waved their handkerchiefs--the troops presented arms--the people generally uncovered their heads, and gave vent to their enthusiasm in loud and long continued cheering."

The New York Times reported "The friends of Mr. Brown, the sculptor, pressed around him to shake him by the hand and congratulate him...one man in the throng distinguishing himself above the rest by repeatedly shouting 'Hooray for the architect of the statue."

Brown's larger-than-life statue stood 14 feet, mounted on a granite pedestal of the same height.  The body of the horse was cast in a single piece.  Washington was dressed in his Continental uniform, his hat resting on his bridle arm and his sword sheathed to his side.  His right hand was extended as if he were about to speak.  The monument was placed in the triangular traffic island at the southeast corner of the park.  According to Helen Henderson in her 1917 A Loiterer in New York, its location was touted as being "the spot where the citizens met the Commander-in-Chief of the army when he reentered the city after the British evacuation, November 25, 1783."

The New York Herald, in reporting on the unveiling, was perhaps the first to heap praises on the work.  "Not intending to anticipate the critical opinions which will be showered upon Mr. Brown's work, we may say that it is a great ornament to the finest portion of the Empire city, and that its general effect is highly impressive."  Somewhat disappointingly, the young architect who designed the monolithic base got no recognition by any of the critics.  Richard Upjohn is remembered today as one of the most important architects of the period.

Suddenly The New York Times had changed its tune.  "It is in every way worthy of the highest admiration," it wrote.  In a separate article the editor gushed, "We are not sure that any city of the Old world can boast of a more noble work of the kind; we are sure that no city of the New can."  It was a compliment that would be echoed again and again.

An early view shows the cast iron lamp posts that surrounded the monument.  In the background, left, is the Everett House Hotel. 

In 1878, The Art Journal discussed Brown's works and said, "Nothing can be more harmonious in all respects than his Washington statue in Union Square, New York.  The horse is worthy of his rider, but does not divert the mind from the latter."   And nearly half a century after the unveiling, in January 1892, Jonathan Gilmer Speed, writing in The Christian Union said "Its dignity and simplicity of treatment impress both the cultivated and the unlearned, and it is not infrequently spoken of as the best equestrian status in this country."

The statue was the scene of ceremonies every subsequent Washington's Birthday and Memorial Day.  Union Square was still an upscale residential enclave, and the events sometimes upset the quietude within the homes of residents like Cornelius Roosevelt, who lived directly opposite.  On February 21, 1862, for instance, the New York Herald reported on the arrangements for Washington's Birthday.  "A national salute will be fired at sunrise at the Equestrian statue of Washington, in Union square."

An 1863 cabinet card, oddly enough, viewed Washington from behind.  from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Two decades after the end of the Civil War the Equestrian Washington statue was the scene of touching, if sometimes mistaken, reverence.  On July 3, 1885 an elderly man, Samuel Johnson, fell to his knees before the monument and began praying.  The Sun reported "He raised his voice gradually until it became very loud, indeed, and a crowd gathered around him."  Overcome with emotion, the gray-haired man rose to his feet and shouted "Lincoln, Lincoln, I owe my freedom to you!"

A policeman pushed through the crowd and tried to persuade Johnson to move along.  He continued sobbing and murmuring "Lincoln! Lincoln!"  Finally the officer explained that the statue was Washington and that the Lincoln statue was on the opposite side of the park.  "The old negro then moved away," said the article.  The reporter concluded "He said he was a slave for a man named Bob Jenkins, in West Virginia, and that he had scars on his back from the lashings he had then received."

The massive proportions of the bronze statue were captured in this stereopticon slide.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The universal esteem earned by Brown's work of art was perhaps best exemplified in 1903 when Adolf Friedmann, an American citizen living in Hungary, presented the city of Budapest with an exact copy.  The Evening World reported "The statue was unveiled...in the presence of the members of the American colony of Budapest and of thousands of enthusiastic Hungarians."

In September 1913, Parks Commissioner Charles Bunstein Stover pushed to relocate the statue.  The New-York Tribune reported that he "is anxious that the equestrian statue of the Father of His Country now at Union Square, looking north, should look south."  He wanted to move it to the middle of the southern edge of the park, where the statue of the Marquis de Lafayette currently stood.   Another faction wanted the monument to be moved to Washington Square--a seemingly appropriate site.

It would be 15 years before the statue would be moved to tje site where Stover envisioned it.   On April 22, 1928, the Board of Transportation announced intentions to build an ambitious subway concourse below the park.  "Extensive changes in Union Square Park will be made necessary by the underground construction," said The New York Times.  The entire park had to be excavated and the grade of the park raised to accommodate the underground mezzanines and passageways.  "This will involve relocation of the historic statues in the park," said the article.

The monuments and fixtures were taken down, crated, and stored to await the park's reconstruction.   When the Equestrian Washington statue was brought back on July 10, 1930, a surprising detail was temporarily visible to New Yorkers.  Henry Kirke Brown had included a roster of the wealthy donors' names at the horse's feet.  The New York Times reported "As long as the statue remained on its stone pedestal, elevated above the heads of passersby, only spectators who carried ladders as aids to sightseeing were able to notice the list on the flat bronze base of the statue."

Sculptor and chairman of the National Sculpture Society was astonished, saying "This method of memorializing the donors of a statue is unusual," explaining that those names were more commonly encased in a cornerstone.  But the Washington statue had no cornerstone.

For a few days in 1930 passersby could view the roster of names as the statue sat on the ground.  photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

As the monument was reassembled on its new site, its artistic merit had not dimmed.  Parks Commissioner Walter R. Herrick mentioned on July 9, 1930, "artists consider the statue, which is by H. K. Brown, one of the finest equestrian statues in the world."

Union Square suffered a dark period in the late 1960s and 1970s when the city was on the verge of bankruptcy.  With no money to maintain it, the park was neglected and became a "needle park," reigned over by drug users and sellers.  Monuments throughout the city suffered, including George Washington which lost its bronze sword and bridle strap to vandals.

In 1986, during happier times, the park was renovated.  In 1989 the Adopt-A-Monument Program restored the Washington statue, recreating the missing elements.

The monument was a site of Manhattan's collective expression of grief following the World Trade Center attacks.  An unofficial shrine developed around its base and a 24-hour community vigil lasted for days.

The monument was restored three more times, beginning that year.  In 2004 the bronze was treated and in 2006 Upjohn's granite pedestal was conserved.

The Equestrian Washington--despite an 1855 newspaperman's vehement opposition--is the city's oldest public monument.   And more than 160 years after its unveiling it is universally considered a masterwork.

photographs by the author

The Lost St. Chrysostom's Chapel -- 7th Avenue at 39th Street

from King's Handbook of New York City, 1893 (copyright expired)

In 1865 the Rev. Henry A. Neely, assistant minister of the fashionable Trinity Chapel on West 25^th Street considered the neighborhood just to the northwest.   Described by The New York Times as “thickly-populated,” the area was filled with crime and vice.  It would earn the unflattering nickname “Hell’s Kitchen.”  Rev. Neely recognized a need to extend religious outreach into the gritty neighborhood.

He was given permission to establish a mission and in the fall of that year enlisted the assistance of Rev. Thomas H. Sill, then Rector of Grace Church in Canton, New York.  The two began “pastoral visitations” of Hell’s Kitchen and on the first Sunday in Advent on December 3, 1865, they held a service in a room above a lager beer saloon on West 32^nd Street near Seventh Avenue.

The priests moved quickly.  Within two months a Sunday School was established and services continued there for almost a year.   In the fall of 1866 a rented hall was taken on the northwest corner of Broadway and 34^th Street for church services.

The successful work of the humble mission did not go unnoticed.  In 1868 the 100-square foot plot of land at the northwest corner of Seventh Avenue and 39^th Street was purchased for a new “free chapel.”  In June that year, $66,000 was appropriated by the vestry of Trinity Church “to put the project into effect,” according to the 1950 A History of the Parish of Trinity Church in the City of New York.   

The neighborhood may have been notorious and its residents impoverished; but the vestrymen went to one of New York City’s most esteemed architects for the design.  Before long, as noted in the History, “the plans for St. Chrysostom’s Chapel and School House, as submitted by Richard M. Upjohn, were approved.”

On October 28 the cornerstone was laid by Bishop Horatio Potter and the now-Bishop Neely.  At the time only the foundation walls had been erected; nevertheless reporters were told “It will be of the Gothic style of architecture, the material being brownstone with Cleveland stone trimmings.  The windows will be of stained glass and the interior of the building will be decorated in polychrome.  It will probably cost $60,000 and will be finished next summer.”

The prediction that the building would be “finished next summer” was optimistic.  Although the first service was held in the new chapel on November 7, 1869; it would be a full decade before construction was truly complete. 

The almost perfectly square plot resulting in a boxier and heavier structure than one would expect from Upjohn.   The architect placed the front of the chapel building on 39^th Street, rather than the avenue.  The corner section, between two hefty gables, morphed into a pyramidal roof supporting a thin steeple and belfry.   Upjohn reduced the visual density of the blocky church by interrupting the brownstone with bandcourses of contrasting, lighter colored stone.

Street car tracks ran down the middle of Seventh Avenue when this shot was taken.  Crude crosswalks protected women's footwear from treacherous chinks in the brick streets.  photo by Robt. L. Bracklow from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult&VBID=24UAYWGP5CFI&SMLS=1&RW=1536&RH=770

The stained glass windows are often attributed to the English firm of Heaton, Butler and Bayne; which had installed a window in Westminster Abbey a year earlier.   For the indigent worshipers living in the lowest of housing, the Gothic interiors of St. Chrysostom’s Chapel would have been uplifting.

photo by Wurts Bros.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult&VBID=24UAYWGP5CFI&SMLS=1&RW=1536&RH=770

Rev. Thomas H. Sill became pastor of the mission--now chapel--that he had devoted his life to.  On December 26, 1874 The New York Times remarked on the Christmas Day decorations.  The newspaper noted “this chapel is frequented by many of the humbler members of the community in whose midst it is situated.” 

“The floral and evergreen decorations were elaborate and exhibited much care and good taste in their arrangement.  The windows were transformed into miniature groves of fir, and the galleries, lectern, pulpit, font, chancel rails, and gas-fittings were tastefully decorated with laurel, cedar, and palm.  Festoons of evergreens depended from the pillars, and a rood screen of laurel divided the choir and nave.  The altar was decorated with a beautiful floral cross of white japonicas, entwined with smilax."

But the journalist did not totally approve.  “While the elaborate decorations in evergreens were executed with good taste, the same cannot be said of the other adornments. For instance, the effect of the beautiful rood screen and cross—a beautiful and unique feature in church ornamentation—was completely marred by the tawdry decorations displayed over the altar and on the pillars in the body of the church.”

New York churches with wealthy congregations closed for the summer months—their members all having left the city for summer estates and resorts.  Such was not the case for St. Chrysostom’s Chapel whose indigent worshipers suffered through the hot months in near-insufferable conditions.  And so it was, instead, repairs and final decoration that forced services out of the chapel proper and into the school room next door in the summer of 1879.

“The walls of the church, which had become badly discolored, have been renewed, and the plaster ceilings have been replaced by wood-work.  The new walls are to be tastefully decorated in tints, new gas-fixtures are to be put up, and the interior of the church will present a greatly improved and more cheerful appearance,” reported The New York Times on August 3.

The repairs and improvements were completed just in time for the consecration on October 30, 1879.  The services were conducted by Bishop Potter, “in an impressive manner,” according to The New York Times, assisted by about 25 clergymen.   The work of Rev. Sill and the Chapel’s guilds, school and the “corps of lay visitors of both sexes [who] now assist the clergy in their ministrations from house to house” was noted.  Since the mission was founded there had been 1,314 baptisms, and 345 marriages.  The membership of just 375 was, perhaps, understandable given the crime- and vice-ridden neighborhood.

The funerals and weddings of the lower classes here went largely unnoticed by New York newspapers.  But that would not be the case on May 8, 1881.  Poet William Ross Wallace was widely-popular and his most famous poem “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle is the Hand That Rules The World,” which praised motherhood, touched the heartstrings of Victorian literary taste.  His funeral at St. Chrysostom’s Chapel drew reporters; and the journalist from The New York Times reported on the event in terms worthy of the poet himself.

“A few minutes before 1 o’clock P. M. yesterday, a hearse, followed by two carriages, drew up at the Gothic entrance of St. Chrysostom’s Chapel…and a coffin was lifted upon the shoulders of four stalwart men in black and borne down the aisle…A lady in deep black, leaning upon he arm of her son, and a young girl, supported by an elderly gentleman, followed the coffin to the altar, convulsed at intervals with subdued sobs.”

The description dripped with 19^th century sentiment.  “The Rev. Mr. Sill conducted the services, and at their expiration the casket was opened that friends might take a fare-well of the strongly-marked and well-remembered features.  The face was emaciated by suffering.”

In Victorian New York, church leaders often looked with derision on actors and some banned their congregations from attending the theater.  Rev. Thomas Sill, however, was an ardent supporter of the art and St. Chrysostom’s Chapel frequently was the spot for the marriages and funerals of thespians.

Weddings here, in general, drew the suspicion of the New-York Tribune in 1884, which sent an investigative reporter on the case.  On September 8 it reported “Some comment has recently been passed upon the fact that St. Chrysostom’s Chapel, in this city, is apparently much sought after by runaway couples and others desirous of entering the matrimonial state as expeditiously as possible. Two cases in particular happening within a few days of each other seem to have intensified the feeling to such an extent that a Tribune reporter a day or two ago made some inquiries at the chapel.”

The reporter was concerned, specifically, about “an actress, who married a man who already had a wife, and a Brooklyn organist who eloped with a young member of his choir.”

The assistant rector was undaunted by the suggestive questioning.  “I regret both these cases extremely, but were I to be placed again in the same circumstances, I should act in precisely the same manner.”  He told the reporter that he had been assured that the wife of the first man was dead.  And, he stressed, if he were to deny the rites of matrimony to these couples, they would go to a Justice of the Peace, “to be united without the blessing of the Church, or to something worse.”  (“Something worse,” of course, alluded to living in sin.)

On November 29, 1885 Rev. Thomas H. Sill celebrated the 20^th anniversary of the chapel’s founding.  Sill recounted to the crowded church the work being done by its 13 guilds—groups which worked within the community.  The Times commented at the time, “A considerable proportion of the congregation is colored.”

Yet another guild was added in 1894—the Guild of St. Agnes.  On March 29 that year The Evening World described the “admirable organization.”  It was organized “for women and girls who cannot or should not go out at night.  It meets every Friday at 3 o’clock.  The members are entertained in various ways and taught sewing, housewifely ways, good humor and good manners.”

The cost of running St. Chrysostom’s Chapel and its related school and organizations could not be, obviously, supported by its needy congregation.  Trinity Church provided the funds and a sermon in May 1897 Rev. Sill gave his appreciation.

“Notwithstanding the tendency of parishes to follow fashion and wealthy uptown, Trinity has remained to minister to the wants and needs of the population that also must remain…For thirty years St. Chrysostom’s has ministered to this section of the city, crowded as it is with tenements and poorer dwellings.  For my own part, I am profoundly grateful that for nearly thirty years I have been permitted to have my part in the work here that has ever kept me busy.”

That work included a long list of organizations and groups.  Among these were St. Chrysostom’s Chapel Dispensary with an attending physician who visited the sick poor at their homes; the Guild for Intercessory Prayer (a Trinity Church pamphlet said “Its name implies its object”); the St. Chrysostom District Visiting Society; The Guild of St. Margaret which assisted he sick and assisted in their burials; and The Guild of St. Cyprian, “a mutual benefit society for colored men and women, providing for its sick and burying its dead;” and others.

In 1899 the Actors’ Church Alliance began meeting here.  The group was founded in 1892 by Walter Bentley, a priest who had been a Shakespearean actor.  The announcement that services would be held in St. Chrysostom’s Chapel on the evening of October 15, 1899 noted “All members of the dramatic profession are invited.”

Around his time St. Chrysostom’s received a new member.  Unlike the majority of the congregants, the unmarried Charlotte Fitch was, as described by the New-York Tribune, “wealthy and of good family.”  The middle-aged spinster had lived in the family mansion in Coxsackle, New York until 1899 where “her eccentricity kept her alone.  He servants would not stay,” according to the Tribune.

She moved to New York City and began attending St Chrysostom’s Chapel.  A bizarre obsession with Canon John Harris Knowles quickly followed.   She began with writing letters to Knowles, asking him obscure points of theology.  He later said “then they became more personal, until finally she was actually proposing to me.”

He said “She would sit in the congregation and glare at me until I could hardly preach.  She has followed me in the street.  I have actually been afraid at times.”  Knowles was not the only person afraid of Charlotte Fitch.  “All the sextons knew her, and were usually afraid of her.”

After nearly five years of this behavior, Charlotte was convinced that Canon Knowles proposed marriage to her in a veiled sermon.  She tried to force her way into the vestry rooms, and then on January 17, 1904 the New-York Tribune reported that she “pursued him everywhere, has tried to force her way into his apartments, and lately brought a Broadway policeman there, hoping to force an entrance.”

Canon Knowles tried to endure the woman’s delusions privately, not wanting publicity for her family. But it was the family who finally took action, after they were alerted to Charlotte’s mental condition when she accused both Knowles and her brother-in-law of trying to poison her.

Charlotte’s sister, the wife of the Rev. Edwin S. De. Groat Tompkins, filed a formal complaint and led police to St. Chrysostom’s Chapel on January 16, 1904.  “Miss Fitch struggled and screamed when the policeman took her to the courtroom,” reported the Tribune.

Canon Knowles told reporters that her family had “hoped to have her taken to some private sanatorium without any fuss, but she slipped away and came to the church this morning.  Then she tried to see me, and her sister had to send for a policeman.”

Charlotte Fitch was committed to Bellevue Hospital for “an examination as to her sanity.”  Peace was restored to St. Chrysostom’s Chapel.

Even more press-worthy than the funeral of William Ross Wallace was that of nine-year old Princess Isabella, daughter of King Andrew of the Miskito Indians of Nicaragua on February 17, 1906.  She had been sent from South American two years earlier to attend the school on Amsterdam Avenue at 129^th Street. “Four children were selected from among the Miskito tribe to be educated in this country and return to teach their fellows,” explained The New York Times.

Little Isabella died in St. Mary’s Hospital from an attack of appendicitis.  Strangely, following the St. Chrysostom’s Chapel funeral, her body was not returned to Nicaragua, but buried in Brooklyn’s Mount Olivet Cemetery.

It was not only Father Thomas Sill who actively supported the Actors’ Church Alliance.  Somewhat surprisingly, so did Bishop Potter.  When an entertainment was held by the group in the chapel’s parish hall on April 25, 1907 (attended by “more than a hundred persons,” according to The Times), the bishop showed up personally.  “Bishop Potter, who has been working in co-operation with the organization to make the fair a success, presented the alliance with an oil painting of himself.  This will be raffled off at the fair to be held at the Metropolitan Operation, beginning May 6,” said the newspaper.

Having served St. Chrysostom’s Chapel for 45 years, Rev. Thomas Henry Sill died in St. Luke’s Hospital on April 6, 1910 at the age of 72.  The New York Times remarked “No clergyman in this city has been so long connected with the same church as Mr. Sill was.”

Grateful congregants contributed what they could to erect a monument to the beloved vicar.  Two years later, on November 10, 1912, a new altar, reredos and credence were dedicated in Sills’ memory.  But the memorial would not last long.

The altar in memory of Rev. Sills was photographed by Wurts Bros. shortly after dedication in 1912.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult&VBID=24UAYWGP5CFI&SMLS=1&RW=1536&RH=770

While Hell’s Kitchen district to the west continued to be a gritty and sordid neighborhood; the Seventh Avenue area surrounding St. Chrysostom’s Chapel was becoming engulfed by the expanding Garment District.   In 1924 demolition began on the Renwick-designed church.

The New York Times explained “St. Chrysostom’s Chapel…was abandoned by Trinity Parish because of increasing commercial invasions of the neighborhood.  The officials of Trinity Parish entered into an agreement with Mr. Sparks [of St. Clement’s Episcopal Church on West 46^th Street] to provide a church home for the members of St. Chrysostom’s."  In return, Trinity paid for much-needed structural repairs of St. Clement’s.

On April 30, 1924 workmen broke open the old cornerstone and pulled out the lead box placed there by Bishop Potter in 1868.  Inside were “a Bible, a prayer book, a convention journal of the diocese, canons of the church and copies of The New York Times and The New York World, dated Oct. 28, 1868.”  The box was taken to the Trinity Parish house at No. 187 Fulton Street and placed in a vault.

The 1840 Robt Kelly House -- No. 9 West 16th Street

photo by Alice Lum

In 1834 Henry Brevoort completed his dignified brownstone mansion on the still-unpaved Fifth Avenue at the corner of 9^th Street.  It was the first house above Washington Square and its presence, along with Brevoort’s wealth and social prestige, would set the tone of Fifth Avenue to come.  Six years later City Chamberlain Robert Kelly would join the trend.  Kelly was one of the founders of the Free Academy, which became the College of the City of New York.

No. 9 West 16^th Street was one of a row of identical brick-clad Greek Revival-style homes completed around 1840.  Its ample 33-foot width along with the high-end interior details earned it mansion status.  Three bays wide, the house was accessed by the expected high brownstone stoop.   Less expected was the three-story, two-bay bowed front.  The feature provided not only a pleasing, undulating rhythm to the row; but captured the slightest breezes in the sultry summer months.  A graceful cast iron balcony embraced the parlor level.

As Kelly planned his new home, he consulted with 38-year old Richard Upjohn on its interiors.   The architect had just arrived in New York City the year before to work on alterations to Trinity Church.  Upjohn would be credited with launching the popular Gothic Revival style in the United States.    While Kelly’s mansion outwardly reflected Greek Revival, Upjohn would introduce Gothic inside.



The family furniture still remained in the early 20th century.  A graceful curved staircase ends in a Gothic newel.  The chair is attributed to Richard Upjohn - photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GHWRJCD&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

Much of the interior appointments, especially the furniture, have been attributed to Upjohn.   A magnificent curved, flying staircase ended in carved Gothic newels.   The library furniture, including built-in bookcases and a unique over-mantel hood; an extensive parlor suite of furniture; and other details like marble mantels, reflected the newly-emerging Gothic style.

Upjohn is believed to have designed the library cabinetry, including the paneled Gothic doors beneath the elaborate hoods --photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GHWRJCD&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

No doubt Mrs. Kelly was mortified seven years after moving in when her husband’s name was publicized as owing $53.00 in unpaid personal taxes in 1847—amounting to approximately $1,000 today.

Following Kelly’s death, his widow stayed on in the house with daughter Florence.   On January 29, 1863 Florence married attorney William Packer Prentice.    The groom had returned to the States in 1860 from five years studying abroad, mainly in Germany.   Charles E. Fitch, decades later, said “he returned to America an accomplished linguist, not alone in classic tongues, but also in the prevailing languages of continental Europe, and versed in philosophy as well.”

Prentice had begun his law practice in 1861 but, as Fitch wrote “at the breaking out of the Civil War, obeyed the call of the country.”   Upon resigning in 1862 he had attained the rank of Chief of Staff of Major-General Ormsby M. Mitchell.



Gothic Revival mantels were often severely-plain.  This beautifully-veined marble example boasted foliate capitals and intrically-carved sprandrels.  photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GHWRJCD&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

The newly-weds stayed on in the West 16^th Street house with Mrs. Kelly.   The marriage would product seven children—Robert Kelly, Florence, Philena, William Kelly, Ezra Parmelee, Paul Cheney and Arietta Hope.  One can imagine that the Victorian interiors of the Kelly House were not always peaceful.  Yet, as Charles Fitch pointed out later, Prentice “was particularly blessed in his domestic relations—his wife a woman of rare refinement and gracious hospitalities, a helpmate in his lettered tastes and social amenities.”

As the children grew to well-respected adults, their aging grandmother Mrs. Robert Kelly remained active.  In 1890 she was a manager of the Society for the Relief of Half-Orphan and Destitute Children.   Although grown, the unmarried Prentice children remained in the house. 

The same year that Mrs. Kelly was managing the Society, Robert Kelley Prentice went into partnership with his father’s law firm at 52 Broadway.  William Prentice had, by now, established a sterling reputation for himself.  He held the post of Counsel of the Board of Health and of the State Board of Health and was described as “a lawyer of the old school who was in close personal touch with his clients, preferring to do his work himself rather than to delegate it to subordinates.”

Early that year Robert found himself a victim of a scam artist.  Andrew Brennan devised a clever plan that came to an end on January 10.  “A sneak thief who has visited over thirty houses of well-to-do citizens recently is now secured in the Thirtieth street police station,” reported The New York Times.

The newspaper explained his scam.  “Armed with letters of recommendation from parties alleged to live in London or Montreal, he would go to a house and tell the servant that he wa a coachman in search of employment and take out the letters.  While the servant was taking the letters to the lady of the house he would help himself to the clothing on the hat rack and hurry away.”

When Robert Prentice prepared to go to his law office one cold morning that January, he found that his overcoat was gone.

As the debutante season of 1902 neared the Prentice women busied themselves with plans for Arietta’s coming out.   On November 27 Florence sent out cards for an afternoon reception to be held on Saturday December 6.  Throughout the month of December socialites and debutantes would come and go through the Prentice hallways.

Interestingly, as Victorian tastes gave way to Edwardian styles, the Prentice décor was little changed.  The parlor received a few updated pieces of French furniture; however it coexisted with Civil War period tufted settees and spoon-back armchairs.  Throughout the residence the original furnishings chosen by Robert Kelly more than half a century before remained.

At the turn of the century furniture from the 1890s mingles with parlor pieces decades older.  The marble mantel is an artistic showpiece -- photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GHWRJCD&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894

Ezra Prentice, like his father and brother, Robert, practiced law.  He specialized in “insurance, railroads and rules.”  In 1903, still living at home, he was the managing clerk in the law office of John E. Parsons.  He ran for office that year, launching a campaign for assemblyman against James Mack, whom The World called “the silver-tongued young Tammany candidate.”

In 1911 Arietta was once again the center of social attention in the Prentice house.  At 3:30 on the afternoon of November 15 she was quietly married to Stephen Willets Collins in the parlor.  The Times noted that “Only the two families and a few intimate friends will witness the ceremony, which is to be followed by a reception.”

William Packer Prentice retired from his law firm in 1913.  Recognized not only as an eminent linguist but an “authoritative Grecian,” he was considered among the foremost scholars of the city—a distinction reflected in some of his club memberships.  In addition to social clubs like the Century club, he was a member of the New York Hisotorical Society, American Geographical Society, and American Chemical Society.  On December 22, 1915, he died in his 16^th Street house at the age of 81.

Like all the Prentice brothers, Paul Cheney Prentice graduated from Princeton.  Paul, who was living and working in Chicago, contracted an inflammation of the spinal cord in November 1916.   It resulted in a slight attack of paralysis which was treated and seemingly cured.  But the symptoms recurred in the fall of 1917 and he was sent back to New York for treatment.   Shortly after arriving home, he was taken from the Prentice house to the New York Hospital on 16^th Street, paralyzed from the waist down.  On Friday, July 5, 1918 he died after months of paralysis and considerable pain.

Florence Prentice was well-known in society and was active in missionary and philanthropic work.   In 1924 the house where she had lived for over 80 years was a sort of time capsule—the furnishings chosen by her father in 1840 still decorated the old home.  On October 1 of that year, while visiting Philena in her Greenwich, Connecticut home, Florence died.  Her funeral was held in the house on 16^th Street at 10:30 in the morning two days later.

When Florence Prentice died, the house was little changed since her father furnished it.  Note the highly unusual hood above the fireplace mirror photographer unknown, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1GHWRJCD&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=894 

When The New York Times reported on the family’s sale of the house on June 12, 1928, it mentioned “This property has been in the Prentice family for more than eighty-five years.”  The buyer was the newly-widowed doctor J. Willard Travell.  

Travell was well-known in the Washington Square area and both his daughters, Virginia and Janet were doctors as well.   He immediately set about renovating the venerable Prentice house to fit their needs.

Travell removed the stoop and created two entrances--one for the office, another for the residence.  The original doorway above was framed in fluted pilasters matching those of the new entrance -- photo by Alice Lum

The brownstone stoop was removed and the entrance moved to the basement level, which was converted to a doctor’s office.  The upper floors remained a single family home.  Both the Travell girls established their practices in their father’s office.

Daughter Janet brought with her an impressive resume.  Having attended the prestigious Brearly School and Wellesley College (where she was tennis champion for three successive years and later competed in the women’s national tennis championship at Forest Hills), she graduated from Cornell Medical College at the head of her class.  A year after moving in to the 16^th Street house, her engagement to John W. G. Powell was announced.  The wedding took place in June 1929.

A more headline-making wedding occurred in the family a year later.  On August 15, 1930 The Times reported that the girls’ father had married Edith Talcott Bates.  “The news of the wedding will come as a surprise to their large circle of friends because their engagement had not been announced,” said the newspaper.

 The new Mrs. Travell was wealthy in her own right; the widow of the Rev. H. Roswell Bates and the daughter of commission merchant, banker and philanthropist James Talcott.

In 1939 the Travells converted the upper floors to apartments.  The parlor level became one spacious apartment while the upper floors each housed two.   Families with respected social connections took the apartments, like that of Mrs. Harry C. Bell who lived here in the 1940s.

In the mid-1950s Senator John F. Kennedy suffered crippling back pain.  On May 26, 1955 he secretly left Washington and traveled to New York City.  Accompanied by Dr. Ephraim Shorr he arrived at Dr. Janet Travell’s office at No. 9 West 16^th Street.  She later remembered “He was thin, he was ill, his nutrition was poor, he was on crutches.”

Jack Kennedy had enormous difficulty navigating the two steps down from the street to the office.  “He could walk on the level putting his weight on his right leg,” Dr. Travell would later tell reporters, “but he couldn’t step up or down a step with his right foot.  We could hardly get him into the office.”

Unlike any of his previous doctors, Janet Travell was able to devised a protocol to manage Kennedy’s pain.  He would forever trust her abilities.

On January 25, 1961 The New York Times reported on the new presidential physician—Dr. Janet Travell.  “The new White House physician comes from a medical family.  Her father, Dr. Willard Travell, is no longer in active practice but, at 91 years of age, he still is listed as sharing the offices occupied by his daughter at 9 West Sixteenth Street.”

President Kennedy told the press that she was a “genius” and credited her with curing him of the back problems that had trouble him for much of his life.”  Dr. Janet Travell’s practice on 16^th Street was about to end.  She told reporters “I have half a dozen fulltime jobs.”  But The Times said “From now on, it appears she will have just one.”

Now living in Washington DC, in May 1961 Janet sold the house that she co-owned with her sister.  The Times noted “it contains a number of apartments and a self-service elevator.”  The old residence was purchased by Milton Schapiro and Nathan C. Brodsky, active in Greenwich Village real estate.

The elegant iron balcony survives after more than 170 years -- photo by Alice Lum

The pair remodeled the interiors, replacing the doctor’s office with four apartments in the basement.  There were still one apartment on the parlor level and two each on the floors above.  The well-maintained house retains the 1962 renovations.  Its tenants come and go, no doubt blissfully unaware of the fascinating family histories that have taken place within its walls.