The 1844 Abram Bassford House - 26 Jones Street

 
Jane S. Paradise moved into the three-story house at 26 Jones Street in 1844 at a time when Greek Revival was nudging aside the Federal style in architectural domestic fashion.  One of a short row of nearly identical homes, the construction and lot of 26 Jones Street cost the developer $3,800, or about $160,000 in 2025 terms.  It was faced in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Its entrance sat within a frame of stone pilasters that upheld an unusually high entablature.  The elegant doorway was flanked by narrow sidelights and an ample transom allowed natural light into the foyer.

The original entrance frame survived as late as 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of  Records & Information Services.

It is possible that Jane S. Paradise operated the residence as a boarding house in the early years.  Living here in 1845 were Julius Cogswell, a currier; and James Meinell, Jr., whose profession was listed as "tools."  Robert Morris, a peddler, occupied the smaller house in the rear yard that year.

Before long, however, Abram Bassford purchased 26 Jones Street.  Born around 1795, Bassford dealt in billiard tables and piano fortes.  His substantial operation was reflected in his three locations at 63-65 Centre Street, 8 Ann Street, and 603 Broadway.  An 1851 advertisement boasted that the Bassford billiard table was "best in the world--first premium at World's Fair."  (The spectacular Great Exhibition was held in Hyde Park in London.)  By the time of the ad, Abram Bassford, Jr. was affiliated with the company.  Two years later, the American Art Journal noted, "Abram Bassford's Grand and Square pianos were awarded the prize medals at our first World's Fair, held at the Crystal Palace, New York."

Bassford and his wife had at least three other children, a son and two daughters.  William K. Bassford was described by  the American Art Journal as, "the distinguished American song composer."  Born on April 23, 1839, William was for a time the organist of St. Bartholomew Church.  He wrote several secular songs, a mass, and a two-act opera, Cassilda.

Abram Bassford was involved in a puzzling conflict with the city in 1858.  Bassford submitted his bill to the Finance Committee of the Board of Education for "a piano-forte now in use in Ward School No. 3, in the Ninth Ward."  Without giving a reason, the minutes of the Board noted on May 5, 1858, "Resolved, That the bill of Abram Bassford, for a piano, be not paid by this Board."

On June 13, 1864, Abram Bassford, Sr. died "suddenly," according to The New York Times.  The term suggested a heart attack or stroke.  His funeral was held in the parlor on June 15.  At the time, both daughters were married.  One of them had wed grocer Henry Evesson, Jr. and the couple was living with the family at the time of Bassford's death.

It appears that Abram Bassford, Jr. was not able to attend his father's funeral.  He was a member of Company C, 12th Regiment, which was present at the surrender at Harper's Ferry in September 1862.  On October 3, 1865, The New York Times reported that Bassford had been promoted to first lieutenant.

By 1867, the Rev. Selig Lisner family occupied 26 Jones Street.  Sons George and David were partners in George Lisner & Brother.  They operated three fancygoods stores at 301 Canal Street, 323 Canal Street, and 837 Broadway.  (Fancygoods stores were different from a general or drygoods store in that they sold a range of items like ribbons, buttons, ceramic figurines and such.)

That year Moritz and Adeline Meyers boarded with the family.  Interestingly, Adeline was a partner with her husband in their shoe business.  When they moved on in 1869, an advertisement on April 1 listed, "To Let--The lower part of a fine private house, with all modern improvements, 26 Jones street, near Sixth avenue and Fourth street."

The advertisement was answered by Joseph and Hannah Alden.  He was a butcher in the Clinton Market.  Hannah died here at the age of 68 on November 20, 1873.  Her funeral was held in the house on November 23.  Joseph remained here until 1874, when the house was sold to Adam May, a milk dealer.

The Mays took in several boarders.  Living with the family in 1876 were two widows, Eliza Brown and Clara Rice, and John H. Morten, a carpenter.  In 1879, the Allen family boarded here.  Edward was a carpenter, Eugene was a laborer, and George Allen was an express driver.  Two other drivers, John Britton and Joseph Mason, also boarded with the Mays.

George and Emma Schenk were boarding here in March 1899 when they purchased 26 Jones Street from Adam May.  The price was $11,006, or about $412,000 in 2025 terms.

The Schenks leased the house to Greenwich House.  Described by its founder Mary Kingsbury Simkhovitch as a "Cooperative Social Settlement Society," it opened on Thanksgiving Day in 1902.  Among the trustees were reformer Jacob Riis, Carl Schurz and Felix Adler, and financial supporters included Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney and Frieda S. Warburg.

According to Gerald W. McFarland in his Inside Greenwich Village, 

The house at 26 Jones Street needed a thorough cleaning, interior painting, repairs, and the services of a pest exterminator before it was ready for occupancy in November 1902.  Simkhovitch had recruited a staff of fifteen residents, eight women and seven men...She, her family, and five women residents moved into 26 Jones, with the young women assigned small bedrooms on the building's third floor.  A visitor during the first year reported that each woman was provided with the bare necessities (a chair, a table, a chiffonier, a bed, and bedding) and encouraged to supplement these items with 'pictures, rugs, hangings, desks, etc." acquired on her own.

The work within the impoverished neighborhood was reflected in an article in The Evening Post on June 12, 1903.  "The residents of Greenwich House, a social settlement at No. 26 Jones Street, are anxious to have two baby carriages, which they could lend to poor women of the neighborhood who are now unable to take their babies to the adjacent parks."

Dr. William H. Tolman, in his 1903 The Better New York, noted that the Greenwich House works "on a different basis from that ordinarily adopted by social settlements.  It believes that the neighborhood about a settlement should be represented on the board of managers, and also believes in the co-responsibility of residents, workers and non-residents."

A grainy 1905 photograph captures prim shutters on the windows as children played on the sidewalk and street.  The Commons, March 1905 (copyright expired) 

After renting the property for three years, on October 21, 1905, the Record & Guide reported that George Schenck had transferred title to The Co-operative Settlement Society of City New York.

An article in the 1905 issue of The Commons explained that "clubs, classes and social gatherings meet" here, and in "the basement there is a middle room absolutely dark by day but having a big old-fashioned fireplace in it.  This is the comfortable den where the settlement household gathers after dinner for coffee and where those who are not rushing away to committees or clubs, may sit down and gossip awhile."

The rear house, in which Robert Morris lived in 1845, was rented "by one of the residents who uses it as a studio and generously allows the rest of the household to come and sit by the open fire," said the article.  It noted, "This little hidden building is typical of the charm of this old quarter, speaking of the past that is giving place to a new and different life."

When Greenwich House moved into 26 Jones Street, the neighborhood was one of the densest in the city.  Mary Kingsbury Simkhovitch told The Commons, "Since that time the racial character of our block was changed radically."  Of the 296 families on the street, she said, "115 are Italians."  She pointed out, "There are living in Jones Street today representatives of eight different nationalities."

Children played by the rear yard of 26 Jones Street, while in the background others can seen in the "sand box."  The Commons, March 1905 (copyright expired)

Among the services provided to these immigrant families was the Tenants' Manual.  The handbook gave information about laws regarding "eviction, desertion and non-support, installment sales, child labor, etc."  Other information included, "prevention of the spread of diseases," along with the locations of museums, schools, places of amusements, and such.  Here women and children were instructed in classes of sewing, cooking, "fresh air work," and there was a kindergarten.  By the time of The Commons article, Greenwich Settlement had expanded into 28 Jones Street.  The rear yard of that property was described as "The Farm."

The varied ethnicity of the neighborhood was reflected in an exhibition here in 1908 of items that immigrants had brought from their native lands.  The New-York Tribune reported on May 28, "Wonderful bed covers, aprons and towels and strange looking caps, all loaded with embroidery; curious carved things of wood; brasses that no collector can see without getting green with envy."  The items originated not only from the expected countries like Italy and Ireland, but included brasses from Russia, a bronze mirror from China, and a Viking bowl from Norway.

In 1917 Greenwich House moved into its new building at 27 Barrow Street.  Around 1940, 26 Jones Street was renovated to three apartments.  It was most likely at this time that the pilasters of the entrance frame were shaved flat.  

No. 26 Jones Street and the two abutting houses were owned cooperatively by eight families.  Among the residents of No. 26 were James Hammond Black, a partner in the Wall Street law firm Sowers, Herrick & Black, and his wife, Irma Simonton Black.  She was a writer and editor of children's books.

Irma Simonton Black joined the faculty of Bank Street College of Education in 1942.  She created a series of school books that transitioned the well-known Dick and Jane type of primers to contemporary urban settings.

After 40 years at the Bank Street College of Education, Irma, who was the chairman of publications and communications for the facility, planned to retire in August 1972.  In June that year, James traveled to Savannah, Georgia to attend a wedding.  He returned on June 18 to discover a tragedy.

Two hours before he arrived, two neighbors, Hope Dibbell and Tony Buttita, noticed a broken window in the basement.  They went to the Blacks' third floor apartment where they found the door open and Irma's dead body, clad in pajamas, on the living room floor.  Police surmised the 66-year-old had surprised a burglar in the apartment.  The New York Times reported that the murdered author "was stabbed with a scissors and a large knife as well as with a carving fork."

There are still three units within the house.  Other than the modified entrance frame, the venerable residence and an important part of Greenwich Village history is outwardly little changed.

photographs by the author

No. 20 Jones Street

In 1794 Dr. Gardiner Jones laid out a short lane in Greenwich Village.  The block-long road took his name, becoming Jones Street.  Half a century later, around 1844, developer George Schott completed a row of stylish Greek Revival rowhouses on the block.

Like its neighbors, No. 20 was faced in brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Three bays wide and three stories high over and English basement, it was intended for a financially-comfortable family.  But this section of Greenwich Village would quickly decline.  By 1857, when William M. and Eleazar B. Brown owned the building, it was already being operated as a boarding house.

Greenwich Village was the center of the black community in the 19^th century.  Nearby Minetta Lane was familiarly called Little Africa.   When Jacob Ramsey, Jr. moved into No. 20 Jones Street around 1880 the tenant list was racially-mixed; there were two other white families in the house.  

Ramsey was going through difficult domestic problems at the time.   He took rooms in the house when he and his wife, Vandalia (called Vannie by friends) separated.  Vandalia suspected Ramsey of cheating and sued for divorce in July 1880.  But when she could produce no evidence, the case was thrown out.

Jacob then sued Vandalia for divorce, claiming that it was she who was unfaithful.   But she was intent on proving her case and preserving her reputation.  She hired a private detective who, unfortunately for her, was not an accomplished sleuth.  Ramsey complained that the detective “has been dogging his footsteps night and day,” according to a newspaper.

It culminated in a confrontation in the Jones Street house at 11:30 on the night of Sunday, October 31, 1880.  That night, after the downstairs doorbell was repeatedly rung, a boarder went to the door.  Two women and two men insisted they needed to see Ramsey.  The boarder was reluctant, but “after some urging,” opened the door and pointed the way to Ramsey’s rooms.

In the group was Vannie Ramsey; her sister, Annie Weller; the private detective, Edward R. Scott; and a friend, Frank Sleeper, a pump manufacturer.  They were positive they would find Jacob Ramsey in a compromising situation with a woman.

The four quietly moved to Ramsey’s door and one of the men knocked on it, saying that “a gentleman wished to see him.”  When Jacob cracked the door open a few inches, the group rushed in, knocking him against the bed “violently,” according to The New York Times.

Ramsey was wearing his trousers, shirt and slippers.  Before he could get to his feet he was threatened with physical violence.  “Sleeper was armed with a formidable looking walking-cane, which he brandished over Ramsey’s head,” said The Times.

As the two women searched the rooms, Scott “then struck him with a club and Sleeper hit him in the stomach with a cane,” reported the The Sun.  Ramsey later complained that when he demanded to know by what authority they had burst into the house, Scott shook the billy club in his face and replied that the weapon was his authority.

Ramsey had all four arrested for assault.  At a hearing on November 5 they pleaded not-guilty and a trial date was set.  Justice Smith instructed Sleeper and Scott to “bring when them the weapons with which they were armed when they broke into the room.”  He also advised Jacob Ramsey that “If you are troubled again in this manner, defend yourself.”

Ramsey’s landlord, Willard C. Hunter, lived in the house.  In October 1882 he demolished a similar house across the street, at No. 17, and hired architect C. E. Hadden to replace it with a three-story brick stable.

Although the S-shaped iron shutter dogs, used to prevented exterior shutters from banging in the wind, appear original; they do not appear in early 20th century photographs.

By 1893 all the tenants in No. 20 Jones Street were black.  Most had come to New York from other areas, looking for a better life in the North.  In 1889 Douglas M. Berwick arrived from Jamaica, leaving his wife and three children behind.  Berwick had been an attorney in Kingston before coming to New York.  Now he worked in a jute factory in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

The former lawyer’s hopes never came to pass.  On July 31, 1893 The Sun reported “Douglas M. Berwick, a middle-aged man and a native of Jamaica, was found dead in his bed yesterday morning at his boarding house, 20 Jones street.”  The coroner attributed his dead to a stroke.

There was another death in the house later that year.  Even in the North, most people of color could find jobs only as servants, laborers, or other lowly positions.  Edward S. Taggart was a porter on New York Central trains.  The 28-year old shared a third floor room at No. 20 Jones Street with another porter, named Elliott.

In November Taggart became ill, and his condition worsening to pneumonia.  Around 4:00 on the morning of November 28 Elliott was awakened by the sound of the window being opened.  He looked around just in time to see his roommate jump to his death.  The Evening World remarked “It is thought Taggart was crazed from fever.”

A resident named Taylor was searching for work in May 1902.  He was careful to identify his race in the advertisement he placed in the New-York Tribune.  “Useful Man – By colored Southern man; experience in gardening, coaching or horses; good reference.”

A year later neither Taylor nor his wife was working.  In April 1903 he placed another advertisement: “Gardener—Cook.  Southern couple, colored; man thoroughly understands gardening coaching and care of horses; wife good cook or houseworker.”

Another couple was looking for work that year.  On June 13, 1903 a tenant named Birchard placed an ad; and like Taylor combined his wife’s abilities with his:  “Coachman and Gardener—Colored; wife good cook; private or hotel; reference.”

A year earlier the Greenwich Settlement House had been organized in a renovated house at No. 26 Jones Street.  The Settlement House movement sought to improve the lives of the impoverished by training them in domestic arts and income-producing trades. 

The conditions of the poor on Jones Street exemplified the desperate need.  In 1902 the infant mortality on Jones Street was, according to The New York Times, “125 to 1,000, more than twice what it was in other parts of the city.”

In 1910 Greenwich House purchased Nos. 18 and 20 Jones Street for use as low-income housing.  Indigent tenement dwellers had little opportunity to enjoy the out of doors; and their children’s play and exercise was limited to the dangerous streets.  The rear yards of the Greenwich House properties were renovated to resolve the problem.

The New York Times announced on May 16 “At 18 and 20 Jones Street a basket ball and handball court has been fitted up for boys, while in the yards back of the Settlement, at 26 and 28 Jones Street, a small park is to be opened for the use of mothers and small children.”

A decision was made in 1918 that the houses at Nos. 18 and 20 Jones Street should be rented not to the needy; but to more affluent tenants to increase the funds of the Settlement House.   A renovation costing $7,000 was initiated that provided “steam heat, electricity and plumbing.”   Completed in December, the new apartments were quickly rented and The Sun listed the eight females who had signed separate leases in December. 

The following month The New York Times remarked on the upgrades to the apartments.  Each house previously brought in a total of $70 per month.  “The results are $310 per month for each house and all the apartments were rented on long leases.”

Although a spacious new settlement house was erected on Barrow Street in 1917; the growing work of the organization taxed the space.  The Jones Street properties filled the need for spill-over work like pottery making, metal work and cabinetmaking.   In 1927 No. 20 Jones Street was renovated and in December The Times noted “The new Crafts Building at 20 Jones Street is taking shape; there the handicraft operations will have more room to develop.”

In 1927 the house at No. 16 had been demolished, to be replaced by the Greenwich House Workshops. Two women shop workers in No 22 take a break to get fresh air.   photo New-York Historical Society

 On November 18, 1929 the Settlement House added another feature to No. 20 Jones Street.  It opened a tea room “where luncheon, tea and dinner will be served every weekday.”  The Times explained that “The purpose of the tea room is to provide a workshop for girls in connection with the Domestic Science Department of Greenwich House, and to offer training both in business and the dining routine of the home.”

Through the tea room girls learned nutrition, cooking skills, serving, the handling of money and accounting, and social skills through interacting with the public—all important abilities in making one’s way in life.

By 1941 No. 20 Jones Street had become the Artists and Writers Kitchen.  The venue staged art sales to benefit struggling artists.   In December that year a “Christmas portfolio” sale was held “to raise funds to provide free meals and other aid for indigent artists and writers,” announced The Times.  Among the nationally-recognized artists who donated works were John Sloan, Arthur William Brown, DeHirsch Marguiles, Peggy Bacon and Gordon Grant.

In 1947 architect Henry T. Howard and his wife, Jane, purchase Nos. 18 and 20 from Greenwich House.  They renovated the two buildings to modern apartments, and removed the outdated stoops.   Skylights were punched through the roofs to provide studio lights.  The renovations were completed in 1949 and two years later the Howards sold the buildings as a package to Tyte-Hanfield Co., Inc.

At some point during this time actor Kirk Douglas lived in a top floor apartment, according to his autobiography The Ragman’s Son.  It was apparently a short stay, since his film career had already begun to take off.

Architect Harley Jones purchased the house in 1994 and rebuilt the lost stoop.  He sold it to Jacinta Orlando and her lawyer husband Gus Samios in 1988.  They did a gut renovation in 2004 that resulted in a basement apartment below a single-family triplex.  Their celebrity tenants in the basement apartment was singer-songwriter Steve Earle and his wife, Allison Moorer.

In September 2010 the house was put on the market for $7.9 million.  The listing created an oddity in real estate offerings.  The owner of the house next door, No. 18—which had been for so much of the 20^th century handled as a package with No. 20—decided to sell; but only if it were sold together with No. 20.  The combined offering was $16.5 million.

No. 18 (left) still manages without its stoop.

Although the Greek Revival doorway to No. 20 Jones Street was long ago lost, with its restored stoop it retains 1840s appearance.  The brownstone sills and lintels and dentiled fascia board survive after a long and sometimes harried history.

photographs by the author

Greenwich House Workshops -- No. 16 Jones Street

Prior to the end of the 19^th century, parts of Greenwich Village had changed from bucolic charm to squalid tenement life.  Immigrants poured into the district until Greenwich Village had the densest population in Manhattan.  Simultaneously, the Settlement House Movement was taking form.  It was based on the concept that the lives of the poor would be bettered not by charity; but by instructing them in income-producing skills, in health care, and homemaking. 

Mary Kingsbury Simkhovitch graduated from Boston University in 1890 and immediately threw herself into social reform.  Recruiting the help of other reformers like Carl Schurz, Felix Adler and Jacob Riis (whose stark photographs of slum life and tenement interiors startled the nation), she founded Greenwich House.  With the immediate goal of improving the lives of the impoverished Greenwich Village immigrant population, it opened on Thanksgiving Day 1902 in a renovated brick house at No. 26 Jones Street.

It was one of a row of Greek Revival homes built in the early 1840s as comfortable residences.  When the new Greenwich House took it over, the houses had been converted to tenements.

The House offered free instruction to women on housekeeping, lace making, reading, language, and other areas that would help them improve their own lives.  All the while Simkhovitch worked to reduce the appalling infant mortality rate.  And she relentlessly fought for playgrounds, sanitation, child labor laws and overall improved living conditions.  Within the first year the Greenwich House's Social Investigation Committee published The Tenant's Manual, the first guide to tenants' rights and tenement law.

In 1909 Greenwich House added pottery making to its curriculum.  It was no frivolous arts-and-crafts recreation.  Art pottery was a major trend and while companies like Rookwood, Roseville and Weller produced large amounts of commercial pottery; the studio art pottery movement was growing roots.  An accomplished potter could earn a comfortable livelihood.

The success of Greenwich House led to its new expansive building on Barrow Street, designed by Delano & Aldrich and opened in 1917.   But a decade later space here was already overtaxed.  Mary K. Simkhovitch, still its director, nudged millionaires to donate to the construction of an annex building on Jones Street.  Among the contributors were Greenwich House Treasurer Marshall Field and, most significantly, John D. Rockefeller, Sr., who wrote a check for $10,000.

Greenwich House already owned the “four story front and rear tenements” at No. 16 Jones Street.  The old house was demolished and the rear building was rented to Camilla Mason and Maude Robinson, both House potters.  It is not surprising that Delano & Aldrich were called back.  Chester Aldrich was highly involved in social reform and was a member of the Greenwich House board.

The cornerstone for the Jones Street building was laid on June 27, 1928 by Marshall Field.  The building would be devoted “to stone, wood and iron shops for training youngsters in the art trades.”   Its purpose was reflected in the list of speakers, including Chester Aldrich, Leo Calarco of the Wood Carvers’ Guild (he had graduated from the Greenwich House workshops, himself), sculptor Victor Salvatore, and master cabinetmaker Nicola Famigletti.  Famigletti addressed the group in Italian; but his lack of English skills was not a problem for the boys learning woodworking since most were Italian.

The New York Times reported that in his remarks Marshall Field “predicted that another Raphael, or some one who might become world famous, would receive his apprenticeship at Greenwich House.”

Completed within the year, the chaste Colonial Revival annex was a visual off-shoot of the Barrow Street building. Faced in Flemish-bond brown-red brick; its arched openings at the first floor and the tall windows and balcony at the second echoed Greenwich House.   The sedate façade gave little hint of the active industrial classes that would take place within.

The stone-cutting and woodworking classes had proved so successful during their seven-year history that in 1930 Marshall Field donated a foundry at No. 16 Jones Street for bronze and metal work.   A year later, on February 8, 1931, The Times commented on the work being done here.

“An effort to counteract the machine-made art of the present and to revive the old craftsmanship of the Middle Ages is being carried on by the Greenwich House Workshops at 16 Jones Street.  There, under the 500-year-old apprenticeship system as it was practiced by Michelangelo and other masters, youths are trained in the arts of stone-cutting wood-carving, cabinet-making and bronze work.”

Because architects and decorators placed orders for the custom-made items, students paid for their training only through labor.  New students—apprentices—helped the senior apprentices and “masters” until their skills earned them a higher spot on the chain.  An arrangement with the public schools allowed the mostly impoverished boys to attend school in the mornings and classes here in the afternoons.

The Workshops offered the boys a means to escape the grueling and dead-end fates otherwise destined for them.  The Times noted “One boy, working in a mine in Pennsylvania, read of the Workshops, saved $35 in order to pay his way to New York, and arrived here penniless.”

Pottery and ceramic work were still being taught in the main building on Barrow Street.  But the sales of these goods helped maintain the Jones Street facility.

But by now the Great Depression was taking its toll on Greenwich House.  The Times noted later, “Before the depression forced Greenwich House to curtail some of its activities, the [Jones Street] building was largely maintained by sales of its pottery and ceramic art and its woodcarvings and cabinet work.”   Now money the public had spent on household decorations was being spent on necessities like food and clothing.

In 1936 Mary K. Simkhovitch and the directors leased the Workshop to the City at $1 a year on a five-year trial.  The school was made part of the School of Industrial Art under the Public School system.  The New York Times explained that at the end of the trial “the educational authorities will decide whether it is to continue.”  Mary K. Simkhovitch, still involved, insisted “Why should we have to send abroad to get the decorative panels and rich reliefs for our cathedrals?  Why not train the boys to do that right here?”

In 1938 there were 48 boys attending classes.  The Board of Education insisted that there was no prejudice against admitting girls, but that “none has yet applied.”   As was the case previously, the boys’ handiwork was offered for sale, with the proceeds now going back to the school for the purchase of tools, materials and equipment.  One instructor told reporters “One piece may bring as much as $250, while it is not unusual to receive $150 or more for a sculptured bear or a hand-turned chair.”

In 1941 the trial period was over and the Board of Education, disappointed in the results, decided to shut down the endeavor.  For seven years the Jones Street building was used as a branch of the New York Public Library.  But then, on October 7, 1948, it was reopened by Greenwich House.  As the economy resurged, so did the interest in the workshops.

Not all the old classes, like bronze-making for instance, would return.  But several new areas were added.  The pottery school moved from Barrow Street into the building and The Times reported “The woodcarving and cabinetmaking shops, discontinued when the building was transferred, are functioning again, and the art classes and workshops of the theatre and dance that had interim housing in the main building are back too.”

The building was outfitted with two large pottery studios, a firing room and drying room.  Children (from 8 to 12), teenagers and adults were offered courses in pottery making, ceramic sculpture, mold making and design. 

Nicola Famigletti was back as well, teaching wood carving.  Examples of the work his former students had produced lined the walls.  The astounding quality of the pieces was reflected in the patrons.  The Times noted “Among the objects produced by them and sold were frames for paintings in the Metropolitan Museum and in the Whitney, religious carvings for churches, and furniture and fences for individuals.”

As the years passed, the industrial classes gave way to the highly-popular pottery until No. 16 Jones Street was entirely devoted to the craft.  In 1952, when the well-known Inwood Pottery Studios was threatened with closing, Gabriella Maria Le Prince convinced Greenwich House to perpetuate it.  The studio’s kilns and raw materials were installed at No. 16 Jones Street.  The following year Gabriella Le Prince died.

Throughout the decades the Greenwich House Pottery’s regular exhibitions and sales were highly-anticipated and attended.  The Jane Hartsook Gallery was installed for the purpose, named in honor of the former Pottery Director who had made the school “one of the nation’s leading ceramic arts studios,” as described in her Alfred University obituary.

In 2002 faculty member Peter Gourfain designed the plaque to commemorate the centennial of the founding of Greenwich House.  The inscription reads "argilla potest servare vitam tuam."

Hidden away on the block-long Jones Street, Delano & Aldrich’s jewel is easily bypassed by anyone not specifically looking for it.  Little changed externally, it is a reminder of a remarkable period in Greenwich Village history, when the sons of impoverished immigrants struggled to get a new start.

photographs by the author

The 1917 Greenwich House - 27 Barrow Street

By 1900, the atmosphere of Greenwich Village had changed from one of comfortable residences in bucolic settings to tenements with, in some cases, squalid conditions.  While in other sections of the city Italian, Jewish or Chinese immigrants clustered together, the Village had an unusually heterogeneous mix of races and cultures.

Mary Kingsbury Simkhovitch graduated from Boston University in 1890 and immediately threw herself into social reform.  She arrived in New York City to work in settlement houses, a new concept among the progressive social-minded to improve the living conditions of the poor.  Upon witnessing the  deprived circumstances of Greenwich Village which had the densest population in the city, she decided to start her own center.

Recruiting the help of social reformers like Carl Schurz, Felix Adler and Jacob Riis (whose stark photographs of slum life and tenement interiors startled the nation), she founded Greenwich Settlement House.  With the immediate goal of improving the lives of the impoverished Greenwich Village immigrant population, it opened on Thanksgiving Day 1902 in a renovated tenement building at 26 Jones Street.

Women learn lace making -- photo NYPL Collection

The House offered free instruction to women on housekeeping, lace making, reading, language, and other areas that would help them improve their lives.  All the while Simkhovitch worked to reduce the appalling infant mortality rate.  She relentlessly fought for playgrounds, sanitation, child labor laws and overall improved living conditions.  Within its first year, the Greenwich House's Social Investigation Committee published The Tenant's Manual, the first guide to tenants' rights and tenement law.

photo NYPL Collection

Drawing from the concepts of the City Beautiful movement that endorsed an environment of "civilized" buildings to foster civilized behavior, a permanent structure was planned.  Architects Delano & Aldrich, known for their reserved, sophisticated buildings, designed a red brick, neo-Federal structure with white marble trim to be located at 27 Barrow Street.  Opening in 1917, it incorporated interior murals by Arthur Watkins Crisp, early American detailing and cutting-edge amenities for the neighborhood's poor.

Greenwich House in the 1930s -- NYPL Collection

The first floor housed an auditorium.  There were an art studio and rooms for the 14 social workers on staff, and on the top level was a running track and gymnasium.  Noted artists and patrons such as Gertrude Payne Whitney, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Daniel Chester French supported the arts programs of Greenwich House--the theory being that the arts were a viable stimulus to cultural enrichment.  Greenwich House Pottery took root here and remains a respected name in the world of pottery.

photo NYPL Collection

As the Greenwich Village neighborhood changes, the Greenwich House remains.  The interior has suffered from nearly a century of use, the Crisp murals have been painted over and exterior could use some tender loving care.  But the old settlement house still continues its mission of improving the lives of its neighbors.

non-credited photograph taken by the author