The Lost United States Trust Building - 45 Wall Street

 

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

On January 21, 1888, the Record & Guide reported that the United States Trust Co. had purchased the Phoenix Bank building at 45 Wall Street and paid an extra $100,000 "to get immediate possession."  The institution had acquired the adjoining building at 47 Wall Street a year earlier.  The amount paid for the two properties, plus the extra $100,000, would equal $27.3 million in 2024.  The article said, "They will erect a new office building in the spring."

A week later the journal reported, "It is rumored that Architect Gibson, of Albany, will be the architect for the United States Trust Co.'s building on Wall street."  Born in England, the 34-year-old Robert W. Gibson had become a U.S. citizen the previous year.  He had recently designed the Episcopal Cathedral of All Saints in Albany, the first portion of which was just being completed.  Erastus Corning, one of the United States Trust Co.'s founders, had provided the land for the cathedral, and it was possibly he who recommended Gibson for the United States Trust Co. building.

The United States Trust Co. was incorporated in 1853.  The country's first trust company, it was founded by some of America's wealthiest men, including (in addition to Erastus Corning), Marshall Field and Peter Cooper.  Its first president was Joseph Lawrence and its vice-president was John Aikman Stewart.

The commission was apparently sufficient to prompt Robert Wilson Gibson to relocate.  The Record & Guide reported on March 10, 1888, "Architect R. W. Gibson of Albany, has opened offices in the Potter building.  It will be remembered that Mr. Gibson received the commission for the new building on Wall street for the United States Trust Company."

  

Gibs0n turned from the cathedral's Gothic Revival style to Romanesque Revival for the U.S. Trust Co. headquarters.  The nine stories of granite and brownstone recalled Medieval architecture in its numerous arcades, clustered columns and intricate carvings.  

On December 22, 1888, as construction neared completion, the Record & Guide said, "The building now erecting in Wall street for the use of this corporation is at least impossible to ignore."  The critic was displeased that Gibson, and indeed the architects of all Wall Street structures, were not attempting to harmonize, but were competing for attention.  "There was been money enough spent in the structures erected along that thoroughfare within the past ten years to make it one of the finest streets in the world.  That object has not been obtained."

The journal accused Gibson of not merely following the Romanesque styling of Henry Hobson Richardson, but of stealing particular design details.  "As we shall see," said the article, "the present building is indebted to him [i.e., Richardson] for its features and for most of its detail, as well as for the choice of materials."  The Guide said the arched main entrance, "is reproduced from the entrance arches of Mr. Richardson's Harvard Law School," adding, "The intermediate and terminal piers that bound the other two bays reproduce another of Mr. Richardson's mistakes of design, however, he never committed [it] on so large a scale or so persistently as it is here repeated."

Saying that the treatment of the upper floors were borrowed from Richardson's City Hall in Albany, the journal continued in its brutal review.  "The attempted vigor of the treatment here becomes rudeness, and in the rough brown stone panels that divide the included stories, framed in moulded granite, degenerates into slovenliness."  In short, the critic concluded, "the front is a compilation from the works of Mr. Richardson," and said, "it has no character, unless obstreperousness may be so considered."

(Despite the savage review, Robert W. Gibson went on to a successful career, designing churches and residences, including the sublime Morton Plant mansion on Fifth Avenue.)

The tenants of the U.S. Trust Co. building were, mostly, attorneys, brokers, and real estate firms.  Among the earliest were Dix & Phyfe, bankers and brokers; and Naylor & Co., iron and steel brokers.

Dix & Phyfe was formed in 1866 by John J. Phyfe and Alfred P. Dix.  John P. Hollingshead had been the firm's confidential clerk and bookkeeper for years when the firm moved in.  In 1891, he traveled to California "for his health," according to The New York Times, leaving his assistant, Oscar Creamer, in charge.  The Evening Post described Creamer as, "only nineteen years old," and The New York Times said he "came to them as an office boy in knickers."  The teen, hired in 1886, had proved himself to be trustworthy.

About a year after Hollingshead had gone West, Creamer disappeared.  On March 28, 1892, John J. Phyfe asked for the ledger and cash book.  The Evening Post reported that he, "discovered that the books were in confusion.  Erasures had been made and pages cut out, and, while it was apparent that the firm had been robbed it was difficult to say how much money had been taken."

Creamer had "two confederates" in the crime, William E. Carpenter and Oscar Bjorkman, alias James L. White.  Carpenter was quickly arrested and confessed.  He was charged with stealing $52,100 (about $1.8 million today).  On April 7, The Evening World reported, "Creamer and White are believed to have sailed on the tramp steamer Oakdale on Saturday for Copenhagen."

Happily for Dix & Phyfe, Creamer and White had taken only about $5,000 of the massive defalcation.  Of the rest, all but about $1,000 was discovered in the cellar of the Brooklyn house of a friend of Carpenter.  Creamer and White did not get far.  On June 29, 1892, The Evening Post reported that they had been arrested a week earlier and were awaiting trial.

Naylor & Co. were victims of a nearly identical crime two years later.  On September 26, 1894, The Evening World reported that Charles H. Voges, a cashier, had pleaded guilty to embezzling $20,000 from the firm.  The amount would equal about $731,000 today.

A tenant not involved in law or finance was the Worcester Cycle Mfg. Co., whose offices were here in 1896.  The firm manufactured the Boy and Birdie Special bicycles, described in an advertisement as "mechanical wonders of the World."

In 1897, the law firm of Sullivan & Cromwell was here.  The partners handled highly visible cases, like the suit of Josie MacDonald that year against Dr. Nelson T. Shields.  She sought damages for permanent disfigurement due to overexposure to x-rays.  The New York Journal and Advertiser reported on August 8, "Five weeks ago Miss MacDonald was a woman of striking beauty.  She had a wealth of black, wavy hair, a beautiful fresh complexion and merry, snapping dark eyes.  Now she is a disfigured, suffering woman.  For five long weeks she has been in torture."

Dix & Phyfe still occupied its offices here when John J. Phyfe died of Bright's Disease in Palm Beach, Florida in March 1901.  Another of the original tenants, Naylor & Co., was also in the building and would remain at least through 1913.

American Architect & Building News, April 19, 1890 (copyright expired)

The banking firm of Rhoades & Co. was here at the time.  Among its employees was George W. Jameson.  The unmarried man, who lived with his sickly mother on West End Avenue, was apparently deeply troubled.  On the morning of February 16, 1914, he was seen far uptown on the express platform of the 181st Street station.  The Sun remarked, "No one seems to know just what he was doing in the station at 181st Street."  Witnesses said that he was seen "pacing up and down at the north end of the station."  As the train pulled in, he jumped to the tracks.  "Four cars passed over his body," said the article.

Astoundingly, John Aikman Stewart, one of the United States Trust Company's founders in 1853, was still coming into the office three days a week in 1921.  Called by The Evening World, "the patriarch of American bankers," the newspaper said on July 12, "At 10:35 sharp, Mr. Stewart's limousine rolled up to the curb in front of the trust company's office and Mr. Stewart, without assistance, alighted and entered the banking office, where Vice President Kingsley immediately presented him with the mail and accumulated memoranda awaiting his attention."  When the reporter approached him with questions about his upcoming 99th birthday, Stewart snapped, "Too busy to talk for publication."

The following year, on September 2, 1922, The Evening Post published a photo of Stewart at his desk here, noting he "was one hundred years old last Saturday."  Four years later, on December 17, 1926, The Washington D.C. Evening Star reported, "John Aikman Stewart, 104 years old, Wall Street financier and once Assistant Secretary of the United States Treasury died at his home today of pneumonia."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

At the time of Stewart's death, the United States Trust Company's assets were more than $1 billion, more than any other trust institution in the country.  Its sturdy, stone headquarters, once brutally panned by one architectural critic, survived until 1959, to be replaced by a 21-story building.

Robert W. Gibson's 1889 No. 88 White Street

Born in England, architect Robert W. Gibson began his American career in upstate New York.  His receiving a major New York City commission--the designing of the United States Trust Company building--may have been what prompted him to move his operation to Manhattan.  On March 10, 1888 The Record & Guide announced "Architect R W. Gibson of Albany, has opened offices in the Potter building.  It will be remembered that Mr. Gibson received the commission for the new building on Wall street for the United States Trust Company."

While much less grand, Gibson's No. 88 White Street would inherit several elements of his United States Trust Company Building (above)  American Architect & Building News, January 13, 1890 (copyright expired)

Gibson would soon receive another commission; albeit one not quite so impressive.  Banker and politician B. F. Wheelright had purchased the old 23-foot wide building at No. 88 White Street in 1880.  Now, early in 1889 his estate hired Gibson to design a modern factory and store building on the site.    The architect filed plans on June 14 for a "five-story brick store."  The projected cost was $30,000, or about $824,000 today.

As he had done with the United States Trust Company project, he turned to the Romanesque Revival style--this time a much scaled back version.  He faced No. 88 with Roman brick and softened the edges with bull-nosed, or curved bricks.  The squat pilasters of the third floor wore complex, carved capitals and upheld a chunky undressed lintel.  They gave way to more formal, two-story piers at the fourth and fifth which terminated in decorous capitals executed in brick.

Brick piers wear brownstone capitals, carved with intricate Romanesque designs.  The three massive undressed stones that make up the joint lintel of the third floor openings add to the medieval flavor.

The building's first tenant seems to have been Potter & Pearson, manufacturers of oil cloth.   The waterproof fabric was widely popular and used in items as far ranging as floor mats (decorated to imitate carpeting and placed under dining and kitchen tables), the linings of trunks, and carriage upholstery.

Edward Silas Pearson was born in 1856 and had begun his career in 1878 with Barlow Stevens, an oil cloth jobber.   His future with the firm was assured when he married Stevens's daughter.  Following Stevens's death, Pearson took over the firm, bringing in two partners, including a long-time employee Louis J. Potter.  The partnership took on the name of Potter, Lindsay & Pearson.  By the time it moved into No. 88 White Street, Lindsay was out and the firm was Potter & Pearson.

Around the turn of the century the company added a new floor covering material to its line--linoleum.   It remained in the building until around 1910 when it relocated to East 16th Street.

That year in December the newly incorporated E. R. Northrop leased the fifth floor.  The hardware and sportswear dealer added "packing, gum and fibrous" to its offerings in 1913.  It would remain in the building at least through 1916.

By then the automobile had become a noticeable presence on America's roadways.  Automobilists, as owners were called, customized their motorcars with any number of accessories; and all of them could be found at B. E. Mfg. Co., which called No. 88 home by 1914.

The seeming inexhaustible list of items it manufactured included collapsible buckets (for those unfortunate motor fires); spark plug cases; covers for the entire automobile or parts like the lamps, radiator, hood, and spare tire; and "starting crank holders."  The description of that accessory read "leather strap and holder to prevent starting crank swinging or dropping down."  Also available were "motorists' leggings," door protectors ("leather or fabric pads to protect the finish of the door"), cushion back rests, wash aprons, bags or rolls for tools, reflector sockets and a number of other items.

In the meantime, Jenkins Bros., manufacturers of pressure valves, had occupied the large building steps away at No. 80 White Street for years.  By 1915 it increased its square footage by leasing space in No. 88 as an annex.

For decades the Jenkins Bros. headquarters were at No. 80 White Street, down the block.  Jenkins Bros. Catalogue and Price List, 1920 (copyright expired)

The firm was organized by Nathaniel Jenkins as Jenkins Bros. in 1864.  Since the earliest days the firm had held patents--the original being the renewable Jenkins Disc--which made its valves unique.  The firm's immense operation (it had a massive plant in Bridgeport, Connecticut and branch offices in Chicago, Philadelphia and Boston) was outstandingly successful.  In February 1924 it reported its net profits for the preceding year at $732,635--around $10.5 million today.

Another hardware dealer, Burger & Baumgard, was in the building by 1916.  Within the next five years they had added a new commodity to its line, the electric freezer.

No. 88 continued to house a variety of factories and shops through the rest of the century, like the Dublin-based Murphy & Stevenson, linen merchants, here after the World War I years.  An interior renovation was done in 1962; but the spaces were still for "warehouse and workshop" uses.

As was often the case in Tribeca at the end of the 20th century, the old lofts were appropriated by artists as studio-residential spaces whether or not they were legal.  The owners of No. 88 corrected the situation in 2003 when it listed its intended renovations as "legalization of interim multiple dwelling."

Five years later there was one apartment on each of the top three.  An exterior renovation, completed in 2014, removed and replaced the old parapet and restored the brownstone elements.  Although the building is not protected by landmark status, the changes were sympathetically executed.  Considering that it was neither an important commission nor a significant structure, Gibson's conscientious use of materials and his skillful handling of the style leaves us with a striking commercial structure.

photographs by the author

The Collegiate School -- 241-243 West 77th Street

On June 7, 1892, The New York Times published an article entitled, "A School With a History."  It was a fitting headline.  The Collegiate School was founded in 1633 by Adam Roelantsen, who took the position as its first schoolmaster.  The establishment of a school reflected the importance of education held by the Dutch settlers--New Amsterdam had a population of only about 100 at the time.

The West India Company funded the school.  Roelantsen was succeeded by Jan Stevensen in 1639.  When he returned to Holland in 1648, Peter Stuyvesant wrote to the Classis of Amsterdam pleading for "a pious, well qualified, and diligent schoolmaster."  In response William Verstius was sent to fill the position of "schoolmaster, of consoler of the sick, of reader of the Psalms, and of chorister for the Dutch Church."

During the 17th century, graduation was accomplished through the public "catechising of school children."  The schoolmaster was required by edict to appear in church with the scholars and "after the close of the sermon to examine the pupils in the presence of the ministers and elders in relation to Christian commands and catechism."

The transition from Dutch to English control was not as simple as modern history readers might think.  The 1892 New York Times article noted that in the late 18th century, "the English language had gained such headway in the colony that there were frequent discussions in the church over the advisability of employing teachers who should instruct both in English and in Dutch."  The debate continued until the outbreak of revolution.

The Collegiate School closed in 1776 when the British took possession of the city and would not reopen for seven years.  The free school, by now, often catered to those unable to pay for instruction.  The New York Times noted, "The church undertook to provide clothing for many of the scholars, as well as to support the school by money donations."

Although operated separately from the Reformed Protestant Dutch Church, the ties between the Collegiate School and the Collegiate Church were strong.  The school had seen a long series of locations when the church planned its relocation to the Upper West Side in 1890.  Architect Robert W. Gibson was commissioned to design a complex of buildings including the church, a chapel, and school.

Completed in 1892 at the southeast corner of West End Avenue and 77th Street, Gibson's Flemish Renaissance Revival structures offered an unmistakable nod to the Dutch roots of the school and church.  The design of the church was based on a 17th century guildhall in Haarlem.  The architecture flowed uninterrupted along 77th Street to the chapel, and then the Collegiate School building.

The school building (far right) formed part of the picturesque group of buildings.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library

Much less grandiose than its ecclesiastic neighbor, the school was clad in matching beige brick trimmed in terra cotta and limestone.  Ambitious stone voussoirs created sunburst effects above several of the openings and a Flemish gable adorned the central pavilion.  Gibson completed the design with a square tower capped by an open octagonal deck.  Atop it was an antique  weather vane in the shape of a rooster "which has ornamented the spires of several of the old churches, now long passed away," said The New York Times.

The two entrances on opposite sides of the structure were explained by an advertisement in The Critic.  The ad noted that the "New School house" was for the Collegiate School for Boys and Girls.  The co-educational trial would be short lived, however, and the school quickly returning to its boys-only status.

The school as it appeared in 1904.  To the left is the chapel building. Atop the tower the rooster weather vane can be seen.  A Brief Account of an Historic Church, 1904 (copyright expired)

In reporting on the new building's completion, The New York Times reminded readers that the school "is a secular educational establishment," despite being founded by the Dutch Reformed Church.  "The Faculty are all laymen of different forms of belief."

"The school house has large and handsome lecture rooms, and the top floor is taken up with a spacious gymnasium...There is also a boxing class for outsiders, and there are already several private classes of ladies and gentlemen who have taken advantage of the gymnasium lessons and instruction in the art of self-defense." 

The Year Book of the Reformed Protestant Dutch Church described the building:

This School-house, designed and built for the Collegiate School, has direct light and air on four sides.  The class-rooms are very large, with every detail of ventilation, heating and sanitary arrangement carefully planned and thoroughly constructed.  The house is used for School purposes only, the boiler for steam heating and the janitor's rooms being in another building.

The basement held the "lunch-room," a drillroom and a playroom, which opened onto a paved yard "for outdoor exercise and drill."  Twice a week for 45 minutes, a United State Army Officer supervised military drills.  "The hours are so arranged that no lessons are interfered with," noted the Year Book.

The concept of what today would be called a school cafeteria was in its infancy.  The Times said, "Among the innovations is the serving of a substantial hot luncheon to pupils who do not wish to bring with them the old-fashioned and indigestible school-basket repast."

Although the church and the school were officially separate (The New York Times had noted that if church members wanted to take advantage of the school's facilities, like the gymnasium, they had to enroll), religion was still a significant part of the instruction.  The Year Book of the Reformed Protestant Dutch Church wrote, "The daily opening exercises consist of a 'Recital of the Creed,' responsive reading of the Scriptures, prayer and singing.  Instruction in the Bible is regularly given as part of the course of study."

The curriculum of the Senior Department, equivalent to today's high school, seems exhausting to 21st century minds.  Students were instructed in "Latin, Greek, Arithmetic, Algebra, Geometry, Trigonometry, Physical Geography, Ancient and Modern History, Physics, Chemistry, English Literature, French, German, Drawing, Penmanship, Composition and Declamation."

In 1895, principal Lemuel C. Mygatt described the school for a newspaper, noting some of the modern additions to the curriculum.  "The school is equipped with all apparatus and laboratory supplied required for preparatory work in chemistry and physics."  There were also "a darkroom for the use of the Camera Club, and lockers for the baseball and football teams."

Before long there would be another club in the building--the Mycological Club.  The students, interested in the study of mushrooms, met once a week.  They were disappointed on May 24, 1897 when their plans for gobbling down their specimens was aborted.

"Many fine specimens of mushrooms were brought to the Collegiate School on Seventy-seventh Street last evening by members of the Mycological Club," reported The New York Times.  "It had been promised that there would be a chafing dish at hand and the members were to have opportunity to become mycophagists--eaters of mushrooms--as well as mycologists."  Sadly, school officials stepped in, pointing out a rule forbidding open flames in the schoolrooms.

In 1903, the Collegiate School reported on its status, while noting that the aim remained "to give thorough and well-ordered instruction under Christian influences."  The quality of education received by the students was reflected in the 127 graduates during the past 12 years who had entered Amherst, Brown, Columbia, Cornell, Harvard, Princeton, Rutgers, Williams and Yale.  The school had always kept its enrollment purposely low--at around 100 students--"that the individual may receive proper attention," according to Year Book.

The Collegiate School, now the oldest private school in Manhattan, prepared for its 300th anniversary in 1933.  The present headmaster, Dr. Cornelius Brett Boock, commented that after three centuries the school was still rather conservative in its approach.  "We are not a progressive school in the modern sense of experimentation with educational methods.  New ideas when they have been proved good ideas are included in our programs."

The six-day celebration began included a church pageant, the unveiling of a bronze tablet marking the event, and a procession from the school to the church and back again.  The guest list at a dinner held in the school on the last night of celebrations included Dr. W. P. Montyn, Consul General of the Netherlands.

No visitor was more esteemed, however, than Crown Princess Julian of the Netherlands who was honored in the school on May 23, 1944.  She was given a cum laude key and certificate after morning chapel exercises.  In her acceptance she mentioned, "As you and I know, this school was founded in 1638 by the Netherlands West Indies Company.  Through the centuries your school has been able to maintain a Dutch tradition, and even to this time many of the pupils are of Dutch descent."

The exclusivity of the school continued throughout the 20th century.  In 1959 it had an enrollment of 353, which was increased by 25 students the following year.  Headmaster Carl W. Andrews, Jr. told reporters, "We have turned down many whom we would have been happy to have in past years."

The student body was composed of the sons of some of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens, including John F. Kennedy, Jr. and Eric Madoff.  Perhaps surprisingly, a significant number of graduates went into the entertainment business.  Included among these were Cesar Romero, Peter Bogdanovich, David Duchovny, and Jason Beghe.  There were politicians--New York State Senator Bill Perkins, New York City Deputy Mayor Anthony Shorris, and U. S. Representative Paul Hodes, for example--and authors like novelist Douglas Kennedy, editor Bill Kristol, playwright John Weidman, and screenwriter David Wise.

Since 1892, the school had leased the building from the West End Collegiate Church.  In 2006, according to the Observer, the church "requested back the space it had been leasing to Collegiate, declining the school's offer to buy the building."  The article said the school would relocate to "a modern, new campus on an oddly shaped block of Riverside Boulevard between 61st and 62nd Streets."

An announcement from Collegiate School board on February 5, 2013 confirmed the report.  Board Chairman George R. Bason Jr. estimated the move-in date for the new facility, costing between $125 and $135 million, would be the summer of 2017.  It will end a 125-year tradition in Robert W. Gibson's quaint and picturesque building.

photographs by the author

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The 1894 Church Missions House -- No. 281 Park Avenue So.

photo by Alice Lum

On October 9, 1892 The San Francisco Call reported that “The cornerstone of what is said will be the finest church mission-house in the world will be laid on October 3 at the corner of Fourth avenue and Twenty-second street by Bishop Williams of Connecticut, as presiding Bishop of the Episcopal church in America.  For several years the Episcopal Mission Society of America has been planning to erect a home that would surpass anything of the kind in existence.”

The glowing account from the opposite side of the country foreshadowed a magnificent structure the beginnings of which went back decades.  The church’s Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society was founded in 1821 to coordinate missionary activities in the western states.  Later the efforts of the society would turn to Africa and China.

In 1835 the society moved from Philadelphia to New York and in 1864 the idea of a permanent church missions house first arose.  Not until 1888, though, would serious action be taken.  A committee was organized to collect funds and secure a location.  Among the members were six laymen and the society chose well; included were W. Bayard Cutting, William G. Low and Cornelius Vanderbilt.

With their significant clout the men helped amass sufficient funds to purchase the plot and to begin construction.  Cornelius Vanderbilt personally gave $50,000 toward the building fund and J. Pierpont Morgan donated a portion of the real estate.  The site ultimately chosen was the southeast corner of Fourth Avenue (later renamed Park Avenue South) and 22^nd Street, directly across the street from the hulking United Charities Building.

The San Francisco Call noted that “The building site was the most difficult thing to secure, but Mrs. Pierpont Morgan came to the rescue by purchasing the plat of ground eighty feet on Fourth avenue and seventy feet on Twenty-second street and deeding it to the mission society.”

In September 1889 the committee presented the designs of four architects to the Board of Managers of the Missionary Society.  Most likely a concept put forth by the businessmen in the group, the ground floor included rent-producing space.  The New York Times would later comment “The first floor will contain stores, which will be rented only to firms engaged in some business connected directly with church work, probably booksellers.”

Architect Robert W. Gibson was given the task of choosing the winning design—that of Edward Stent which was made public in December of that year.  Stent’s original plans were subsequently altered and enlarged and by 1892 when the cornerstone was laid Stent and Gibson had collaborated on the final design.

In its presentation the committee predicted the cost of the structure to be around $200,000 including the land.  The men grossly underestimated their vision.

The San Francisco Call published the above sketch on October 9, 1892 (copyright expired)

The Call published a sketch of the coming building which it described as “seven stories high and built in a steel frame filled in with brick.  It will be grand in proportions, warm in color and commanding in size.” 

At the time of the cornerstone laying Edward J. N. Stent commented on the design and the increased cost.  “Without exception this will be the finest church mission building in the world.  Its actual cost will be about $350,000…The architecture will be Flemish, with a slight Romanesque tendency.  The first and second stories will be of red granite and the balance will be of buff terra cotta.”

sketch by Albert E. Flanagan, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York,
http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWERU1KR&SMLS=1&RW=1366&RH=579

Stent predicted that construction would take about one year.  He mentioned the high-end finishes that would be incorporated into the finished structure.  “The hallways will be tiled in mosaics and handsomely colored marbles.”  An innovative system of portable walls would customize interior spaces for specific uses.  “The library and boardroom will be on the south side of the building on the second floor.  There will be a system of screens separating these rooms from the chapel, one of the handsomest in New York.  By removing these screens all the rooms can be thrown into one, thus completing quite a large chapel, with altar, vestibule, pews and organ ready for service.”

True to Stent’s word, construction neared completion in July 1893.  The New York Times predicted it would be finished by Thanksgiving Day.  By now the cost had rise to $500,000—about $11 million today.  Part of that cost went into the magnificent sculptures that would adorn the entrances, and in the finishes.  On July 10 The Times mentioned the mosaics and marbles and added “The stairways and passageways all through the building will be of stone and iron.  For the first two stories the joiner work will be of quartered oak, with the remaining five stories of ash.  The windows will all be of ornamental stained glass, leaded, with leaded transom heads for all the floors.”

Robert Williams Gibson was among the foremost architects of church structures in the state and his influence was obvious.  The New York Times noted “The mission building is a seven-story structure built in the Flemish style of architecture, treated from an ecclesiastic standpoint in minor features.”

Gibson's ecclesiastic touch appears throughout the structure -- photo by Alice Lum

The building was formally opened on New Year’s Day 1894; however the finishing touches to the façade were not installed until January 17.  On that day hundreds of people crowded the corner of Fourth Avenue and 22^nd Street to see the unveiling of the marble sculptures above the entrances.  The New-York Tribune said “The completion of this work put the finishing touches on the exterior decoration of the handsome and costly home of the society, the most striking example of the Flemish style of architecture in the city.”

photographer unknown; from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York,
http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWERU1KR&SMLS=1&RW=1366&RH=579

The white marble sculptural groupings depicted scenes “which combine both ecclesiastical and historical interest.”  One represented St. Augustine preaching to a group of 6^th century Britons; the other showed the first bishop of the American Church, Samuel Seabury, preaching to Native Americans—which the Tribune called in politically-incorrect 21^st century terms, “Aborigines.” 

photo by Alice Lum

The newspaper noted that “The work was executed from designs by Edward N. J. Stent, one of the architects of the building.”

Now comfortably ensconced in its glorious new home, the various groups comprising the Missionary Society could get on with their work.  On May 8, 1900 the New-York Tribune reported on once such outreach—this one quite close to home.

“The Women’s Auxiliary to the Church Temperance Society supports twelve free iced water fountains in the tenement house district.  The are in operation from May 1 to October 1, and are a great boon to the people.  The increase this season in the price of ice is practically prohibitory to the poor, so that the fountains will be a great blessing even than before.  Two hundred dollars will erect one, and contributions for that purpose will be welcomed at the Church Missions House.”

The Society’s concern for social reform and the well-being of the less fortunate classes was evident.  In 1902 the building would was the scene of a “sweatshop conference” under the auspices of the Sweatshop Committee of the Church Association for the Advancement of the Interests of Labor.  The Tribune reported that “The especial purpose of the meeting was to discuss factory laws now in force and further legislation in that line which is contemplated.”

During the conference, Rev. Mr. Morgan reported on his findings of “one woman who was paid only nine cents a dozen for finishing boys’ knee trousers, and how another woman received only 12 cents a dozen for the same work.”

The group kept constant pressure on legislators and inspectors for years.

In 1902, while the sweatshop conference was in session, New York saloons lured working men with their famous free lunches.  The Women’s Auxiliary of the Church Temperance Society came up with a solution—lunch wagons.  For ten cents workers could get a hot meal without being seduced into the wicked environments of a saloon.

Miss H. K. Graham reported to the group “There is no doubt that many [workingmen] would gravitate to the free lunch offered by the saloons but for these wagons.  That they have been successful from a financial point of view only serves to show that they have met a need and that the average workingman will patronize any place where he can get good, cheap food in preference to taking the so-called ‘free lunch’ at the saloons.”

The Auxiliary covered as many bases as it could.  It established coffee vans for the carriage drivers who had to wait for their wealthy employers at the theater.  “The coachmen’s coffee van is a handsome little wagon intended to provide refreshment for the coachmen and hackmen while waiting at entertainments,” she said.  “The temptation to take a drink at the nearest saloon while waiting in the cold is very strong, and that form of refreshment does not help the coachman to handle his horses with steadiness.”

Other vans were sent out in cold weather with insulated tanks of steaming coffee for motormen of the omnibuses; and they stopped by the scenes of fires as well, providing fire fighters with hot coffee in the winter.

The work of the various groups was such that it was proposed that same year to add stories to the eight –year old building.  In the will of Dean Hoffman the Society was bequeathed $50,000 and the Board announced that “it could not better invest the dean’s money” than to “add three, perhaps four, stories to the Episcopal Church Missions House.”

The proposal, which was publicized on September 30, 1902, never came to pass.  Thankfully.

The intricate decoration reaches into the uppermost portions of the magnificent structure -- photo by Alice Lum

Debutante Ethel J. Wheeler shocked some New Yorkers in July 1908.  A headline in the New-York Daily Tribune on July 21 read, “Miss Wheeler Renounces Social Life for Work at Wuchong.”   Ethel was among the 32 outgoing missionaries heading to China.

“The news of her decision to become a missionary came as a surprise to her friends,” said the newspaper.  She had traveled widely through Europe, had studied art, and was a member of the Art Students’ League.   Hers was not the sort of life decision one expected from a wealthy, well bred young woman.

“She will defray her own expenses and means to devote her money as well as her time to the work,” reported the Tribune.

Her father, the well-known attorney Everett P. Wheeler, expressed his support.  “I didn’t want my daughter to go, but since she is going I want her to make a success of it, just as I would want a boy who was going away to start in business to make a success of it.” 

As for Ethel, she did not see why there was such a fuss about it.  When a reporter asked to interview her, she replied “There is nothing to write about in it.”

Not all the churchmen were as enthusiastic about the missionary work among the Chinese.   A conference in the building on September 23, 1919, “brought out some opposition to the extension of the work to the Chinese,” reported The Sun.  Some clergymen saw more important missions to tackle.

“A lively discussion was precipitated over the problem of establishing missions for the Christianizing of Jews,” said the newspaper.

There was also a great thrust towards the “Americanization” of ethnic groups in the city.  “The campaign is now planned to include Czecho-Slovaks, Mexicans, Welsh, Assyrians, Jews, the Oriental people and some other races.  Dean D. C. F. Bratenahl of Washington raised objection to the work among the Chinese, stating that the effort was wasted, inasmuch as these people cannot become citizens.”

In a stance that is rather shocking to modern readers, the Rev. John L. Zacker insisted “The Jews control the world.  If Christianity is to convert the Jews, it must be attempted at once.”

In 1926 the National Council of the Episcopal Church turned its attention toward a different issue:  birth control.  Congress was considering an amendment to the Federal penal code and Tariff act that would make lawful the sending of contraception items through the mails.

On January 21 a meeting of the Council in the Park Avenue South building resulted in its joining forces with the National Catholic Welfare Council to oppose the action.  Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, The Right Rev. John Gardner Murray wrote in part “This is a challenge to the patriotism of every true American.  It faces our country with a moral crisis of great magnitude.  No one can be blind to the ultimate unhappy results of such information and practices, especially on the minds, morals and health of the younger citizens of our country, to whom we look for future growth and upbuilding of the United States.”

The Episcopal Church groups remained in the building until 1960.  Then, on September 12 of that year The New York Times reported that “The Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States will move its national headquarters from 281 Park Avenue South to a new $3,500,000 building to be constructed on the northwest corner of Forty-third Street and Second Avenue.”  The newspaper added “The old edifice, regarded by many as an interesting example of late nineteenth-century Gothic architecture, is up for sale.  It has long been too small to house the administrative offices of the 3,000,000-member denomination.”

The structure became home to the Federal of Protestant Welfare Agencies which, in 1991, initiated a major restoration and renovation program.   The architectural firm of Kappell & Kostow were given the commission that included resurrecting and restoring the mosaic marble floors that had been covered with vinyl tiles; removing dropped ceilings to re-expose the plaster-ornamented ceilings, repairing the copper and terra cotta roof; restoring the leaded, stained glass windows; and bringing back to its former appearance the wooden wainscoting, doors and trims.

photo by Alice Lum

The restoration, costing about $5.5 million, reclaimed the remarkable building that still commands attention. 

West End Collegiate Church - West End Avenue and 77th Street

photo Alice Lum

In 1880 much of the Upper West Side was still sparsely-settled farmland.  A decade later, however, the area was alive with new construction, pioneered by the 1884 Dakota Apartment building on Central Park West.

Many residents had to travel back downtown to attend church services while the neighborhoods were developing.  In response, on October 16, 1890, the Consistory of the Collegiate Church formed a committee to search out a site for a new church and school.  Three months later the committee had purchased, for $89,000, four residential-sized lots on West End Avenue and three adjoining lots on 77th Street.

Architect Robert W. Gibson, who was given the commission, veered far from the customary Gothic Revival or Romanesque churches expected on New York streets. Drawing from the city’s early heritage, he designed a charming Dutch Colonial structure with a stepped gable and Baroque finials.

The cornerstone of West End Collegiate Church was laid on October 24, 1891, at which time The New York Times predicted, “The new church and school will be one of the finest religious edifices in the city.”  Designed to accommodate 750 worshippers, the newspaper went on to say that “The entrances will be by porches and vestibules, so arranged as to exclude draughts without making necessary the use of storm doors….The windows are large, with mullions suitable for stained glass. The roofs are steep, with gables and dormers much as in the Gothic style.”

Based on the 17th century Vleeshal, a butcher’s guildhall in Haarlem, it used “long, thin brick of a Roman pattern and brown in color, trimmed freely with quoins and blockings of buff terra-cotta,” as described in the church’s yearbook the next year.  The congregation approved an additional $5,000 to use tiles rather than slate for the roof.  The yearbook went on to say, “Some very picturesque panels carved with the coats-of-arms of the church and of past benefactors are also in terra cotta.”

The interior would be as unconventional as the outside.  “The church will have a gallery over the vestibules and porches, without any columns to interfere with the ground floor,” said The New York Times.  “The roof is in open timber work of trusses supporting beams formed in panels.  To the east of the church are the ladies’ parlors, chapel and school.”

photo NYPL Collection

Completed 1892, the church was dedicated on November 21 with an overflow crowd.  Using words like “quaint” and “picturesque,” The New York Times gave a flowery description of the finished structure, saying, “…and from its peaked roof there turns to the wind an ancient weathercock, which has ornamented the spires of several of the old churches, not long passed away, and which were once conspicuous buildings in the lower part of the city.”

The connected school building -- photo Alice Lum

West End Collegiate clung to its Dutch connections and during World War II established itself as a headquarters for aid to Dutch refugees and relief efforts.  Twice during this period Princess Juliana of the Netherlands visited the church.

A fire in the sanctuary during the 1980's necessitated extensive restoration and reconstruction, headed by Hall Partnership Architects, LLP., and in 1999 another restoration was initiated, which focused on the roof and terra cotta, by LZA Group.

The beautiful church and school were designated New York City landmarks in 1967, at which time the Landmarks Designation Commission said that “this group of buildings gives an aura of old world charm to the residential area in which it is located.”