The Greek Revival row houses built on Washington Square North between 1829 and 1833, with their graceful stoops and elegant ionic columns, offered everything a wealthy New York family could want.
What would that be? Think spacious living quarters, backyard gardens, proximity to the theater, church, and fine shops, and assurance by the builders, who leased the land from Sailors’ Snug Harbor, that no factories would encroach on this residential enclave.
Elite residents also craved some distance from the filth overtaking lower city. And across the street was a lovely new park—the former potter’s field turned military parade ground, Washington Square. Access to the park was definitely a plus.
But for any New Yorker to live comfortably in the antebellum city, they needed a place to keep their horses and carriage, and possibly living space for the servants who tended to them.
So began the early years of Washington Mews, perhaps Greenwich Village’s most famous and photographed historic private lane.
Shortly after the row houses fronting Washington Square were completed, planning began for this back alley—an unusual concession in a city that was intentionally mapped out without alleys, as real estate was too precious to waste on horses and garbage.
Cutting a slender path between Washington Square North and Eighth Street, the Mews followed what had been a Lenape trail connecting the Hudson and East Rivers, according to James and Michelle Nevius’ Inside the Apple.
Once the Belgian block paving was in place, a row of two-story carriage houses were built—but only on the north side of the Mews (third photo). That kept the sound and stench of horses from intruding on the “deep rear gardens and extensions” of the Washington Square North houses, according to the Greenwich Village Historic District report.
Who were the well-heeled residents who parked their equipages here? Bankers and merchants, according to Village Preservation. The Row, as Washington Square North became known, enjoyed decades of status as one of the most desirable places to live.
But change was coming. In the 1850s, six new stables were built on the south side, freeing up space on the north side for the carriage owners living on Eighth Street, per the Greenwich Village Historic District report. No longer was it the exclusive lane of residents of The Row.
In 1881, city officials mandated that gates be built at the entrances of the Mews, clarifying its status as a private lane, wrote Christopher Gray in a 1988 New York Times Streetscapes column. (Fourth photo shows a gate on the University Place side.)
By now, artists were arriving; “the house and stable at 3 Washington Square North was demolished for a studio building in 1884,” stated Gray. Coinciding with the coming of the artists was the end of the horse and carriage era.
In 1916, Sailors’ Snug Harbor, which still owned the land, announced that “the little stables of the mews, whose usefulness has long since passed away,” will be converted into artists’ live-work studios, per Gray. ( Fifth image: 1917, looking toward University Place)
Artists like Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, Edward Hopper, and Paul Manship did occupy the stables-turned-studios. More dwellings were constructed on the south side, and a renovation did away with many of the original brick facades in favor of stucco and the occasional ornamental tile.
Washington Mews’ next chapter began in 1949, when New York University purchased the alley—or the lease from Sailors Snug Harbor, as some sources state. Since then, school administrators have gradually transformed the cottages into faculty housing and facilities space.
Even though it’s a private street, the gates tend to be open during the day, so tourists and curious New Yorkers can wander through and imagine living inside this “charming little village,” as the Greenwich Village Historical District report describes it, isolated from city traffic.
If you stand still and concentrate, you might even sense the ghosts of the original horses clip-clopping on those Belgian blocks.
COMING TO THE NYPL BRANCH ON FEBRUARY 18TH
WHEN MANHATTAN WAS DUTCH—THE 400TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION
The Dutch of the early 17th century turned an edge of Manhattan wilderness into New Amsterdam. Although it lasted only 40 years, the colony had a profound and lasting impact on the future city of New York. From the start, people of many ethnicities filled its streets, trade and profit were paramount, and religious tolerance was the norm.
With Joyce Gold- Historian and noted NYC Tour Guide
This program is free and open to the public. TIme: 6:30 p.m.
PHOTOS OF THE DAY
I attended Shoppe Object, a trade show where wonderful merchandise is sold in home-where, gift items, decorative items are available. It has been relocated from piers to the massive Starrett Lehigh Building on 11-12th Avenues between 26-27th Streets. Hundreds of items on display to purchase for a retail shop.
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Do you have a pair of gloves on your holiday gift list?
If so, you’re part of a long-standing tradition of giving and receiving gloves. What you might not realize is that these simple accessories have a history that is intimately entwined with women’s social mores in American society. After all, who could forget the opening scene of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, when Meg decides to present Marmee with “a nice pair of gloves” for Christmas, instead of getting anything for herself?
Today, gloves are mostly cold-weather accessories, but in the 19th century middle-class and elite women wore gloves every time they left the house. These gloves were often made of silk or thin kid leather from the skin of a young goat or sheep, and meant to protect hands from sun rather than chill (for that, women often used fur-lined mittens or muffs). Gloves also helped keep the hands soft and “ladylike”; by the mid-19th century such soft, pale hands were the mark of a woman who didn’t have to do her own housework. Later on in Little Women, when Meg’s father returns from fighting in the Civil War, he praises her burnt, blistered, and needle-pricked fingers as evidence of her hard work, both on the home front and for the Union cause by cooking, cleaning, and sewing.
Paul Thompson, photographer. Rose O’Neill, 1914. Rose O’Neill Collection, PR-369, New-York Historical Society.
Her illustrations appeared in a number of notable periodicals including Harper’s, Life, Cosmopolitan, and a number of ladies’ home journals. Her success led to a full-time position with Puck, the humor magazine known for its political satire and anecdotes. While talented in various forms of art and continuing to freelance, it was the creation of one particular cartoon character that launched O’Neill into fame: the Kewpie Baby.
Chas. T. Jones advertisement, ca. 1895. Patricia D. Klingenstein Library, New-York Historical Society
Gloves made an excellent gift because a lady would need several different pairs in order to be properly outfitted. Kid leather was extremely delicate, prone to stretching, splitting, and tearing. Many of the most popular colors were also impractically light: white, fawn, tan, and gray were all considered “standard,” despite being terribly susceptible to stains. (Over the course of Little Women, the tomboy heroine Jo March ruins several such pairs of gloves with lemonade and coffee.) Moreover, women needed different gloves for everyday and evening wear. Evening gloves, especially those worn to the opera or to a concert, were often longer, and came with all sorts of different embellishments—they might be scented, ruffled, embroidered, beaded, or even printed with commemorative imagery to mark a very special occasion.
Left: Glove belonging to Elizabeth Shipton, 1850-1900. Kidskin, silk. New-York Historical Society, gift of Mrs. Edgar Saltus, 1917. 7ab. Right: Asher Durand, engraver. Glove worn at a ball to honor the Marquis de Lafayette, held at Castle Garden, September 14, 1824. Printed leather. New-York Historical Society purchase, Foster-Jarvis Fund, 1952.293.
However, a proper lady wouldn’t accept a gift of gloves from just anyone. Gloves could carry a hint of erotic charge: as British fashion historian Lucy Ellis writes, the glove “could provide a vital barrier between the sexes, preventing the frisson of touch and preserving modesty.” Returning once more to Little Women, this explains why Meg tells Jo, “Gloves are more important than anything else; you can’t dance without them,” before the sisters attend a fashionable party; and why we learn of Mr. Brooks’ romantic interest in Meg when Laurie reveals that he keeps one of her gloves in his breast pocket. It seems, then, that the exchange of gloves could be a sign of familiarity or intimacy. In the May 1852 issue of Godey’s Lady’s Book, the author claimed that this use of gloves hearkened back to a knightly time, when “chivalry wore [the glove] in its helm—at once a charm and token, the honorable badge of a woman’s love, invested with the potency of her virtues.”
Sole Agents for New York City of the Genuine Foster Hook Glove,” ca. 1884. Patricia D. Klingenstein Library, New-York Historical Society
The popularity and ubiquity of gloves also provided jobs for women. These charming images from the Bella C. Landauer Collection of Business and Advertising Ephemera show smartly dressed “shop girls” at work selling gloves, part of the great influx of young unmarried women into retail jobs between 1880 and 1890.
The reality of these jobs was slightly less charming—retail workers had to fight for things like seats behind the counter, and lunch breaks lasting beyond a scant 20 minutes amidst long work hours. The women who worked in glove manufacturing organized against long hours and poor working conditions: Agnes Nestor, who worked as a glove-maker in Chicago during the 1890s, recalled sewing a dozen pairs of gloves an hour (at five minutes per pair) and trying to break the monotony of the work by singing “A Bicycle Built for Two.” Nestor and the other women glove-workers objected to their employers’ practice of charging them for the needles, oil, and even the power required to run their machines, and walked out. Their demands were met, and Nestor later became a well-connected labor leader and president of the International Glove Workers Union of America, lobbying for workers’ education, maximum work hours, a minimum wage, and women’s suffrage.
As you wrap up your last-minute holiday shopping, we hope that you enjoy thinking a little bit about the history of this everyday object! The Center for Women’s History wishes you and yours a happy holiday season.
COMING TO THE NYPL BRANCH ON FEBRUARY 18TH
WHEN MANHATTAN WAS DUTCH—THE 400TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION
The Dutch of the early 17th century turned an edge of Manhattan wilderness into New Amsterdam. Although it lasted only 40 years, the colony had a profound and lasting impact on the future city of New York. From the start, people of many ethnicities filled its streets, trade and profit were paramount, and religious tolerance was the norm.
With Joyce Gold- Historian and noted NYC Tour Guide
This program is free and open to the public. TIme: 6:30 p.m.
PHOTOS OF THE DAY
Talking about games, here is one that is not available (except on E-bay). The reporter and famous investigator of the Blackwell’s Island Lunatic Asylum later went on to circumnavigate the world.
CREDITS
NEW -YORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY FROM THE STACKS Jeanne Gutierrez, Curatorial Scholar, Center for Women’s History
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
