The Jeanne d'Arc - 200 West 14th Street

At the time of the Civil War, wide 14th Street around 7th Avenue was lined with elegant brownstone and brick residences.  The 1854 Academy of Music, the opera house attended by names like Astor and Vanderbilt, sat regally at 14th and Irving Place.

But neighborhoods in New York constantly change.  By the 1880s 14th Street was no longer strictly residential.  The meatpacking district was growing at the far west end.  The new Metropolitan Opera House which opened in 1883 drove the Academy of Music to close in 1886 and by 1888 the venerable institution was offering vaudeville.  Businesses took over the street levels of the brownstones.

While this change was taking place, the middle class of Manhattan was growing.  Merchant class families needed affordable yet respectable housing in which to raise their families.  Developers devised the concept of roomy, attractive apartment houses a step up from tenements yet nothing so grand as the luxury apartments being built for the wealthy.

Marketed with the sophisticated-sounding name "French Flats," one of the very first of these was built by Jersey City businessman Henry Meinken at the corner of 14th Street and 7th Avenue.  Meinken called on James W. Cole to design his new building in 1888.  Cole was a favorite of the Astor family and he built several factory, warehouse and apartment buildings for them, several a few blocks west on 14th around Hudson and 9th Avenues.

It was completed in 1889 and given the cultured name "The Jeanne d'Arc."   The five-story brick building with brownstone trim had commercial space on the street floor and 8 commodius apartments above -- two apartments per floor.  To set the building apart from the baser tenements, Cole added an attractive pressed metal cornice and carved brownstone sills and lintels.  Some of the windows received decorative pediments and some were "supported" by scalloped brownstone half-basins.

But visual impact was reserved for the entranceway on 14th Street.  In a free-handed mixture of architectural periods, imposing heavily-carved carytids support a classical balcony with medieval balusters, topped by two fierce-looking winged griffins.  Above the balcony a glistening white statue of Joan of Arc sits on a weighty brownstone base.

Although the official address for the Jeanne d'Arc is 62 Seventh Avenue, Meinken's 14th Street entrance gave the residents the more impressive-sounding 200 West 14th Street mailing address.

The French Flat movement did not arrive without its detractors.  The New York Times discussed the trend on September 24, 1899.  "The intermediate dwellings, the so-called 'French Flats,'" it said, "are those upon which we really are in most urgent need of ... a standard.  We have apartment houses for the rich designed by competent architects.  We have tenement houses for the poor designed by competent architects.  But no competent architect has ever been invoked, that we know of, to design dwellings for the great middle class...whose members cannot afford a whole house, nor yet a "swell" apartment, but can afford a rent which, in any other city than this would secure a healthful and comfortable dwelling."

"To call the things that are actually provided 'French Flats' is to insult a friendly nation," The Times went on.  "Nothing like them was ever seen or would be possible in France."

The problem with buildings like the Jeanne d'Arc, according to the newspaper, was lack of light (the bedrooms were "dark cells") and ventilation.  While the upper-class apartment residents enjoyed the convenience of elevators, the middle class renters were walking up five floors exactly as were the tenement dwellers.  What were marketed as light courts were in actuality, said The Times, "a flue, a conduit not for light and air but for sounds and smells."

The French Flat solution for housing middle-class families, however, remained viable for decades.  And despite the problems contemporary critics found with the design, the Flats filled a crucial void in the late 19th and early 20th Century housing market.

The Jeanne d'Arc is the earliest surviving example of a French Flat building on 14th Street and one of the earliest in the city.  The exterior is in a remarkable state of preservation.  The ornate cornice is intact and the brownstone detailing is in overall good shape.  Most remarkable is that the statue of Joan of Arc still stands over the doorway more than a century after being placed there.

The carved brownstone entrance has been painted a barn red and a portion has been chopped off to accomodate the widening of the sidewalk.  The many-paned entrance doors and fanlight appear original.  On the support beneath Joan, the words "JEANNE D'ARC" which until a few years ago stood out in deep relief, have sadly been mostly lost through well-intentioned by clumsy maintenance.

The 1889 Vissani House -- No. 143 West 95th Street

photo by Alice Lum

In 1868 Italian priest Father Charles Vissani da Nazzano was sent to New York to establish the Commissary for the New York Franciscan Custody of the Immaculate Conception.  He also spent a good deal of his time working with the growing Italian immigrant population.   In 1874 he was appointed president of St. Bonaventure University in Allegany, New York but returned to the city three years later.

Visanni was authorized in 1880 to establish the Commissariat of the Holy Land in the United States.  The purpose of the Commissariat was to protect holy shrines and places in the Holy Land from desecration from infidels.  He established the Commissariat’s first headquarters at the Church of St. Francis of Assisi .  

In 1891 "Sandliers’ Catholic Directory" explained the functions less-than-succinctly.  The “Commissariat of the Holy Land [was] established by direction of the Sacred Congregation of Propaganda, with the approbation of His Eminence the late Cardinal McCloskehy, to promote among Catholics in America interest in the Sacred Monuments of our Lord’s Passion.”

By the end of 1888 a permanent home for the Commissariat was deemed necessary and in December of that year Vissani purchased the building lot at what would become No. 143 West 94^th Street from Jane Ann Brown.   The deed established strict restrictions prohibiting Vissani and all future owners from erecting anything other than a “private dwelling house for the use of one family.”  Vissani's intended building would stretch the definition; but only slightly.

Simultaneously Vissani was planning a four-month pilgrimage to Palestine.  The trip would not only provide public relations for the Commissariat and afford the clerics an opportunity to inspect holy places; it was a fund-raising tool for the new headquarters.

A month later, on January 22, 1889 The New York Times reported on the trip that was scheduled to leave New York on February 21.  “Among the pilgrims will be two Bishops, two monsignori, and thirty-four priests.” 

Four months was not an exceptionally long time for the pilgrimage, especially considering the long sea voyages and the stops in Paris and a private audience with the Pope in Rome.

On February 12, 1889, a week before the group left, construction began on the new headquarters.  The newly-established architect James W. Cole had received the commission and for the 27-foot wide structure he drew inspiration from the Gothic.  By now Gothic Revival was among the favorite styles for ecclesiastic buildings.

Cole would not over-emphasis the style, however.  The “AIA Guide to New York City” would later remark that the neo-Gothicism here was “as if done in the Renaissance fashion by a student trained at the Ecole des Beaux Arts.”

A hefty dog-legged of rough-cut stone leads to the entrance -- photo by Alice Lum

Cole used the dog-legged stoop which would become characteristic of many Upper West Side homes—but the stoop was where comparisons ended.   The parlor level openings were surmounted with ambitious Gothic arches that slightly overlapped the cornice of second floor, giving the building a near church-like appearance.  In the shield above the entrance was the Franciscan coat of arms and those over the windows were carved with the Crusader cross.   

A close inspection reveals that the foliate carvings in the tympanums are slightly different.   Oak leaves decorate the space above the door, symbols of strength; the middle window is decorated with palms, symbolizing pilgrimage; while laurels are carved into the eastern-most arch, symbols of victory and honor.

The arches were carved with individual, symbolic foliage -- photo by Alice Lum

The Gothic influence became diluted with each subsequent level.  Peaked drip molding connected the three square windows of the second floor, and the arched openings at the top level were embellished with French Gothic carvings.  Above it all a tall parapet enclosing a niche distinguished the building from a purely residential structure.

Vissani’s successful pilgrimage was completed in June 1889 and the following month the house was completed.  The building became home to the Franciscan priests working in the Commissariat and it included a chapel for daily prayer.

photo by Alice Lum

Two years later Vissani sailed to Palestine again.  His pilgrimage this time, which began on August 8, 1891, would be more extensive. The Sun reported on his departure on the Arizona.  “He is to make a tour of the Holy Land with the object of determining on a route for a pilgrimage of American Catholics in 1892…He is to be away nine months.”

Once again the priest would meet with the Pope.  In his absence the Rev. Godfrey Schilling who had arrived in New York from Jerusalem only a few months earlier took charge of the Commissariat.  He had previously been working with the Province of St. John the Baptist in Cincinnati.

Upon his return, Vissani’s health began to noticeably decline.  In hopes of restoring his health he traveled to Rome in 1896.  The deed to the Commissariat building was transferred from Vissani’s name to Schilling’s in August of that year.  A month later, on September 27 Father Charles Vissani died in Rome at the age of 75.

Almost immediately Schilling began plans to transfer the Commissariat’s headquarters to Washington D. C.   On September 2, 1899 the Washington D. C. Evening Star reported that the “immense building whose yellow dome can be seen rising against the sky a long distance off,” was near completion.  The newspaper predicted that the Commissariat of the Holy Land would occupy the building “early in September.”

The Commissariat retained possession of the 95^thStreet building until 1905 when the Rev. Godfrey Schilling sold it to Peter B. Englebert.   By 1908 it was home to the Greve Family who would stay on in the house for decades.  By now the crosses and carvings associated with the Catholic organization had been removed and the building had become a highly-distinctive townhouse.

When the building was converted to a single-family residence, the religious carvings and applied crosses were removed -- photo by Alice Lum

Ellen Greve visited Europe with her brother, John, who was a priest in Pittstown, Pennsylvania in the summer of 1908.  In October they boarded the White Star liner Arabic in Liverpool to return home.   On Sunday evening October 5 the priest became ill and, according to The New York Times a week later, “seemed to realize that he must die.  He begged Dr. Gilmore, the ship’s surgeon, to keep him alive until port was reached, as he wanted to receive the last rites of the Church.”

Elen Greve was frantic and begged the ship’s doctor to keep her brother alive.   On Friday, October 11, Fire Island appeared on the horizon as the liner finally neared New York.   Sadly, The Times reported the next day that “Dr. Gilmore did all in his power to prolong the priest’s life until he should reach port, but without avail.  Mr. Greve died on Friday afternoon, when the ship was within sight of land.”

Following Mary Josephine Greve’s death in the house on July 28, 1934 it became home to the Fagan family.  Henry F. Fagan had married Evangeline Greve and the couple had three children in the house, Evangeline, Leo and Pancratia.   Henry Fagan died in the house on September 23, 1943 and three years later the house was sold, ending nearly four decades of Greve family ownership.

In 1946 the house was converted to apartments; one commodious apartment on each of the lower floors and four on the third.   Twenty years later a three-year conversion, completed in 1969, resulted in two apartments per floor.

photo by Alice Lum

Today the wide stone house is a commanding and dignified presence on the block, and an interesting page of social and religious history in New York City.

The 1897 2nd Reformed Presbyterian Church -- 308 W. 122nd Street

In 1877 the Rev. Dr. Andrew Stevenson, pastor of the Second Reformed Presbyterian Church noted in The Reformed Presbyterian and Covenanter,“The Reformed Presbyterian Church in the city of New York had its origin in a praying society of two families who became acquainted in 1790.”  Eight years later the group received its first “Lord’s supper.”  The congregation had increased to 20 members, “six of these were from a distance.”

The number of Reformed Presbyterians, most driven from Ireland and Scotland by persecution, continued to grow and by the last decades of the 19^th century there were three congregations.  It was not merely the number of worshipers that resulted in the three separate churches—the Presbyterians were racked with dissention and turmoil among themselves. 

In the spring of 1847, after the Second Reformed Presbyterian Church broke away, the Synod issued a judgment which deemed the congregation “immoral” and read in part “Resolved, That the Second congregation, New York [is] hereby directed to alter the tenure of their property and the mode of managing all such temporalities, so as to free themselves from all connection with said immoral law.”

The judgment created a crisis and only a year later a schism developed within the Second Reformed congregation.  Of its 334 members 182 walked away to form the Third Congregation.  Of those who remained, 104 were women and, according to Stevenson, “This division almost destroyed our existence.”

The church persevered and in 1896 was ready to build a new structure.  The neighborhood of West 39^thStreet near Sixth Avenue had changed in the two decades that Second Reformed had worshiped here.  The neighborhood was increasingly commercial; pushing congregants out.  The quickly-developing area of Harlem far to the north offered an attractive alternative.

Three elevated train lines served Harlem and the streets were lined with fine brownstone and brick rowhouses, shaded by trees.  In 1897 the streetscape would be improved with an addition when the new Second Reformed Presbyterian Church at No. 308 West 122^nd Street was completed.

The congregation had hired architect James W. Cole to design the building.  In the ten years he had been in business Cole had busied himself mostly with commercial and apartment buildings.  Now he tried his hand at an ecclesiastical work with charming results. 

Cole created a simple Gothic-inspired church.  Its proportions belie the actual size; suggesting a one-story country chapel rather than the rather substantial building that rises as high as a five-story tenement.  Perhaps to save costs, Cole used terra cotta for the contrasting details—the trim of the arches and oculus, and the buttress caps, for instance—rather than expected limestone or granite.  A wonderful brick corbelling drips down from the gable in three lengths, creating a gingerbread-frosting effect.

The old animosities of the Reformed Presbyterians were eventually put to rest.  The Second Reformed congregation continued to prosper.  Its choice of location for the new structure proved to be a wise one as public transportation from downtown to Harlem increased.  On August 22, 1914 Christian Nation made note of the church’s convenient location:

“Members of New York Presbytery please notice that the spring meeting is to be held in the Second Church of New York City, at 308 West 122^nd street, at 8 p.m. Tuesday, May 5^th.  The Eighth avenue surface cars or the elevated trains stopping at 125^th street bring you near to the church.  This is not an official notice, only an indication of the way to those not knowing it.”

In the meantime, the year after the Second Reformed Church opened the doors to its new building, 23-year old Methodist preacher William Edward Fuller, Sr. had an epiphany.  The Southern minister walked out into a corn field near his home to pray in solitude and there he received what he later deemed the “Baptism of the Holy Ghost and Fire.”  The term was a reference to John’s gospel account that “he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire.”

Fuller had been a member of the African-American New Hope Methodist Church which, despite the name, admitted black and white members without partiality.   Now he resigned his post and turned to the Fire-Baptized Holiness.  The new church was based along the lines of the Episcopal church with bishops holding the highest offices.  Starting with two members the congregation had ballooned to more than a thousand by 1908.

That year Fuller separated the racial content of the church, leading about half of the congregants to organize the Colored Fire Baptized Holiness Church in Greer, South Carolina.  On June 8, 1926 the name of both groups was changed for the final time to Fire Baptized Holiness Church of God of the Americas.

The Harlem neighborhood had, by now, changed dramatically.  At the turn of the century black New Yorkers began moving into the neighborhood, pushed out by rents and discrimination downtown.  The WPA’s New York City Guideexplained in 1939 “Negroes began to move into Harlem in 1901 as a result of a deflated boom in real estate there.  Because of the lack of adequate transportation facilities, fine apartments erected by speculative real-estate promoters were left tenantless.  A Negro agent, Philip A. Payton, persuaded landlords to accept Negro tenants, and hundreds of families soon deserted old tenements in the crowded West Fifty-third Street and Sun Juan Hill (west of Columbus Circle) sections and poured into Harlem.”

Even here, however, the blacks were taken advantage of.  The Guide said “Barred from most residential areas in the city, Negroes pay rents 50 per cent higher than those charged for comparable living quarters elsewhere.”  In 1917 Bishop William Edward Fuller had established a mission in Harlem and a year later the Mount Olive Fire Baptized Holiness Church was formed at No. 6 West 126^th Street.

The immediate area around Second Reformed Presbyterian remained did not change as quickly as other parts of Harlem.  When the WPA wrote its guide, it noted “Although Negroes live along the streets north and south of it, West 125^thStreet is not predominantly a Negro center; white residents of Morningside Heights and Manhattanville have used it as a shopping center for years.”  The white owners’ refusal to hire black employees resulted in a significant race riot in 1935 “of alarming proportions.”

Four years after the WPA published its New York City Guide, the Second Reformed Presbyterian Church put its building on the market.  It was purchased by the Mount Olive Fire Baptized Holiness Church, which had been worshiping at No. 2395 Eighth Avenue since 1932.  The congregation paid $40,000 for the building in 1943—a substantial $625,000 in today’s dollars.

The neighborhood around James W. Cole’s delightful brick church continues to change 71 years later.  The dark days of the late 20^thcentury have given way to revitalization of the area.  The Mount Olive congregation continues to worship in the 122^nd Street church.  Apart from the questionable choice of replacement entrance doors, the building which has seen so much change around it is virtually untouched since its completion nearly 120 years ago.

photograph by the author