Fascination, Salvation, Damnation, and Procrastination: The Infamous Corners of Lake and Church

by Monica Groth, Curator

While leading one of our Historic Downtown Walking Tours last month, I learned some fascinating history from our knowledgeable trolley-master Mark Delgrosso. Mark brought to my attention that the four buildings that existed on the corners of the intersection of Lake and Church streets at the end of the nineteenth century bore very interesting nicknames which tell us a little about their histories.

No longer standing, the opulent Reynolds Mansion once graced the intersection where the Carnegie (Steele) Library later stood, and where a monument to adventurer Ross Marvin stands today (the southeast corner). This home was occupied by the family of Dr. Edwin Eldridge’s daughter Julia. Julia Eldridge married Lewis Stancliff in 1856. But Lewis died young in 1864, and Julia remarried, this time to Samuel “Tutt” Reynolds. Julia’s father built her the magnificent Victorian Mansion on Lake and Church Streets in 1869 to celebrate this new chapter in her life. The mansion was splendid – boasting mahogany panels, stained-glass windows, and velvet carpeting—and was overflowing with priceless works of art. Passerby gazed with wonder at its outdoor fountain, beech tree, and three entrances; it became known by the nickname “Fascination”.

Photograph of the Reynolds Mansion, c. 1905

 Portrait of Mrs. Julia Stancliff Reynolds c. 1905

The building dedicated in 1862 as the Second Presbyterian Church and later renamed the Lake Street Presbyterian Church earned the nickname “Salvation”. During the turmoil of the Civil War, a disagreement within the First Presbyterian Church believed to have arisen over the question of slavery caused the church to fracture. The followers of outspoken anti-slavery pastor, Rev. David Murdoch D.D., formed what became the Lake Street Presbyterian Church, dedicating the sanctuary on Lake Street on the anniversary of Murdoch’s death. Murdoch was a humorous and compassionate Scotsman renowned for his engaging sermons. Ausburn Towner’s 1892 History of Chemung County describes him as “one of the most remarkable men…ever to make the sun shine brighter”. By 1883, the Lake Street Presbyterian Church congregation had grown to around 500 members.

Lake St. Presbyterian Church

Plaque commemorating Reverend Murdoch in vestibule

The City Club, designed by Rochester-based architects Crandall and Otis as a refined social club for wealthy citizens, moved to its current site on the corner of Lake and E. Church streets on New Year’s Day, 1894. The building housed a reading room, club rooms, billiards room, and a café. A separate ladies dining room existed, and a separate entrance for women was on the Church Street side of the building (women were not accepted as members of the club until 1986). Despite the fact that early members of the club included respected gentlemen such as Charles J. Langdon, George M. Diven, J. Sloat Fassett, and John H. Arnot, the club was known to be a site of drinking and, it was rumored, carousing. The roof-top garden added to the club in 1901 was closed only a decade later because of loud noise and rogue food and bottles being thrown into the street. The City Club thus earned the appellation “Damnation”.

The City Club also hosted Lectures like this one, featuring a Stereopticon, or magic lantern projector

Finally, City Hall, elegantly designed in the Neo-Renaissance style by Joseph Pierce and Hiram Bickford in 1895, was termed “Procrastination”.  Pierce and Bickford’s fingerprints are found throughout Elmira’s historic district; the pair designed the Courthouse Complex and Hazlett Building as well as City Hall. The architects’ intended the structure to be a slow-burning building capable of resisting fire long enough to allow for safe evacuation. There was a fire on the upper floors in 1909, but the building lived up to its promise and the minimal damage was quickly repaired. Why would the citizens of Elmira associate city governance with procrastination in 1895? When it comes to government, it’s easy to say that any pace is perceived as too slow, but in the 1890s, city government was also rocked by corruption and scandal. Frank Bundy, who served as Assistant Chamberlain in 1892 and 1893, and then as Chamberlain from 1894 until 1900, “cooked” tax records for years before the City Council had cause to investigate. Chamberlain embezzled $84,495 in city funds (that’s close to $2.5 million today). He served four years in Auburn Penitentiary.

City Hall today, note the ornate decoration on City Hall’s Lake Street façade

These four buildings earned their names sometime at the close of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, when their individual characters appealed to the public imagination. It is a testament to both the creativity and diversity of the city of Elmira during this time that Fascination endured amidst Procrastination, and Salvation stood just across the street from Damnation.

Gender Bending in the Late 19th and Early 20th Centuries

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

Check out those bloomers!

We have a fantastic set of glass plate images in our collection of a group of friends or family in the early 20th century who seem to have been having a lot of fun swapping clothes. The men are dressed in skirts, women's hats, cloaks, accessories, and even some underpinnings. The women are in pants, men's hats, and even sport some fake facial hair. All in all, this group with their party scenes, complete with alcohol, counter some of people's preconceived notions about gender in the Gilded Age and Progressive eras. In a time we often assume is overrun with Victorian prudery, people played with gender norms and performance. The main way this manifested was in female impersonation. To be clear, this is not the same as our modern understanding of being transgender, gay, or a drag queen. Female impersonation, as discussed in this blog post, was a popular and respected theatrical specialization.

More from our glass plate negative collection

 The origins of men dressing as women in theater dates back centuries. Common in Shakespearean performances and in those by all-male troupes, female impersonation began, in part, as a necessity. Fast forward to the 19th century, and female impersonation was a staple of traveling minstrel troupes, which again, were mostly male. These roles were often played for comedic value, and in the case of minstrel shows, they often upheld racial and gender stereotypes.  

By the early 1900s, Julian Eltinge was the most famous female impersonator. Known for his uncanny portrayal of a woman in Vaudeville, on Broadway, and later in film, Eltinge was a celebrity. Eltinge toured the world, and made appearances in Elmira.

From 1918

But there were other performers, too, even if they didn't match Eltinge's fame. In 1892, Elmirans Fred Gibson and Harry Graves found fame in Vaudeville. In one act, the did "a small dude song and dance, changing in full view of the audience to a female impersonation skirt dance." Elmiran Matt Lockwood, an actor and costumer, was known for his humorous female portrayals, especially of old women. A performance by the Elmira Free Academy minstrels in 1910 featured, as its main plot point, a female impersonator who infiltrated a fraternity house. The humor came when "he unmasks to the dismay of his amiable fraternity brothers who have accorded him the most flattering courtesies." That same year, the members of Company L enjoyed a performance by a female impersonator named "Lottie Duval." The performance was so "clever" that some of the men didn't know he was a man until he took off his wig.

In 1923, the Cornell Masques performed "Listen to Me" at the Lyceum Theater, which featured student Al Force in the role of Peggy Lang. We have a composite photograph of Force in both his street clothes and his Peggy costume. The next year, former Elmiran George Bracken worked with the Neil O'Brien Minstrels, performing twice per show as a female impersonator.

Al Force as Peggy Lang

Cross-dressing in the theater served many purposes. It was sometimes about trickery, but often the actors were not really trying too hard to disguise their actual gender. And while I've focused primarily on female impersonation in this blog, male impersonation was also a popular theatrical attraction in this period. Ultimately, impersonation was supposed to be fun entertainment, and we can see from photographs like those from our collection, how this spirit of lighthearted gender-bending bled into the lives of non-actors.  

More from our collection

Cheers!

The Golden Age of Roller Skating

By Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

I do not have fond memories of roller skating.  When I was a kid, it was cool to have your birthday party at Interskate 88 in Oneonta, NY, but I always found such parties rather torturous.  See, I never mastered skating.  You put wheels on my feet and I am totally incapable of mustering anything that even resembles coordination.  When I made it onto the rink, I clung the bar on the wall like my life depended on it (and given my pitiful skating skills, perhaps it did).  All I wanted to do was get to the cake part of the festivities!

But unlike me, many people both now and historically have enjoyed roller skating.  Roller skates first appeared in the 1700s, but didn’t become popular until the late 19^th century when the skates could be mass produced and sold cheaply.  

Early roller skates

The roller craze swept America and Elmirans latched onto the fad.  Several roller rinks operated within city, including the Mascot, Union, and Star rinks.  The sport and rinks reached the peak of their popularity in the 1880s when there were four rinks open in the city.  3,000 people showed up to the grand opening of a rink in 1884.  The Mascot Rink on Madison Avenue, also constructed in 1884, was described as one of the largest wooden buildings ever built in the city.  Designed by Elmira architects, Pierce and Dockstader, the 85 x 212 foot building featured a 60 x 176 foot skating floor.

Roller skaters outside an Elmira rink, 1885

Roller skating even made its way onto the era's fashion.  This handkerchief features children on skates and likely dates from the late 1800s.

In addition to being able to skate themselves, people who went to local rinks also had the opportunity to see many shows.  Races were a common event at the early rinks.  Some local boys became well-known for their skating prowess as they defeated other young men from around the region.  

The rinks also offered more eclectic fair, like a greased pig race or musical performances.  Trick skaters were also very popular.  In May 1884, 250 braved bad weather to see a performance by the Decker family of New York City, an act that even included skating on stilts!  Some local men, including Joe Powell and Thomas Welsh (brother of the famouscontortionist and juggler William Welsh of DeHollis and Valora), became well-known acrobatic skaters who travelled the country.  Charles Beckwith of 112 Columbia Street was a skating daredevil known for his barrel jumping.  

The skating rinks featured live music, as advertised by the Star Roller Skating Rink

Skating, however, like all fads, quickly began to fall out of fashion.  Around the turn of the 20^th century, some of the rinks were converted into theaters and other were out of business.  While many people still enjoyed skating, there was no longer the demand for the sport there was in prior decades.  There were periodic revivals and a new rink opened in 1914.  Skating remained popular with children who raced down the streets on their skates, which created a serious safety issue.  On the city’s west side in 1924, concerned citizens even roped off an entire block to ensure children’s safety while skating, although residents on Elm Street protested the decision.  

Rink ad from 1914: No "undesirables" allowed!

 In the ensuing decades, roller skating has remained a popular hobby in the city, but has never again reached the “golden age” status it held in the late 1800s. 

 

The Students Speak

 

By the Elmira College students in the “Doing Public History” class

(notations in green added by co-teacher, Kelli Huggins)

During our time at the museum, we had some common experiences. All of us were creeped out by the mourning hair wreath, surprised by the realities of the Gilded Age, and amused by some of the stories behind our topics (those children’s games were really supposed to be fun?).  At the start of our class, we examined other online exhibits and the practices of other institutions of public history. During our second week, we visited the Museum for the first time as a class. Touring CCHS, we used our newly acquired knowledge of public history to view the exhibits on display. We now understood that choosing the objects required time and forethought on the part of the staff. As a class, we began to recognize the influence that the staff had on the story being told by the objects they chose (so much power!!!).

"Creepy" hair wreath

Next, we began the long process of creating an online exhibit. Our first step was to identify a topic of interest to us that fit within our larger timeframe of “Elmira in the Gilded Age.” Each of us explored the archives and collections, which was a unique hands-on experience outside of the traditional lecture (read: not boring). Being behind-the-scenes of the museum allowed us to comprehend that what you see in the exhibit is just a very small fraction of the museum’s collection (we’ve got tens of thousands of objects and over 1 million documents and photos). Understanding the curator’s dilemma of selecting only a few pieces to project a larger story was both challenging, and a learning experience. Normally, learning history consists of reading a textbook, but at the Museum we were able to see the objects that were part of history and learn their story.

So many historical items to choose from!

After choosing our objects and researching our topics, it was time to start working on our actual exhibit. After writing our 7 page research paper, we had to condense it to three short labels. In groups, we worked on perfecting our exhibit labels so that we had the most information in the least possible number of words. This was a frustrating and daunting process, but we were rewarded in the end by the final product. There were debates and compromises over words and phrasing (conversations like, “I don’t like the word ‘breeding’ here, but I can’t think of anything better!”) and we saw that the process was not easy for those who have to do it professionally. The museum staff was very helpful and patient with us; guiding us to our eventual result, despite our inexperience and the ease with which we were side-tracked.

From excitement...

...to exhaustion.

When the grueling editing process was complete (they’re being too nice here- this was about a 10+ hour experience), we had the chance to add our own personal touches. We chose 5-8 images to accompany our labels, further our research, and illustrate the points we made in our descriptions. Each of us spent the morning taking pictures and scanning documents, in order to show our audience the highlights of what we got to look through.

The team at the end of the process: still smiling!

After 6 weeks of hard work, we were all excited to wrap up the process and reveal our online exhibit. All of us are excited to be featured on the Museum’s website (add a line to that résumé!) and to have contributed to an online exhibit that will be published and available to many people. It is rewarding to know that the work we put in will serve a purpose beyond a grade in the classroom, and will reach out to the community and further their understanding of local history.

Check out their hard work here:

http://cchsonlineexhibits.wix.com/gildedage