It’s a long way from the subject of matches to that of pianos. Maybe not so strange when taken through the long lens of history in Lafayette Square.
On Carroll Street east of 18th Street is a row of houses built from 2013 through 2015. They face an older row of houses built around 1872. The homes at 1717, 1719, 1723 and 1725 Carroll were designed and built for Augustus Eichele, who had 1727 Carroll built for his own use. The other three were constructed for his daughters. 1725 connected to 1727 through a passageway meant to enable one of Augustus’s daughter to tend him in his old age.
Introducing Augustus Eichele
Eichele was an immigrant from the German city of Wuerttemberg. He served on a Union navy frigate during the Mexican War, and as an infantry captain during the Civil War. In the time between these two clashes, he began the Eichele Match Company, and found a booming niche to occupy in 1858.
Bringing fire along
Fire is handy to have available but difficult to carry from place to place. In early times, one could bring along a burning object, or wait for lightning to strike a hay field. He could also use a piece of glass to focus the sun’s rays on a pile of tinder, or scratch a flint on a piece of steel to generate sparks, and build a blaze from that.
In the late 1600’s, Europeans began experimenting with the flammability of phosphorus and sulfur. The need for a way to light smoking tobacco really drove the science forward. The first self-igniting match was cobbled together in 1805, in France. This early match head was composed of a mixture of potassium chlorate, sulfur, sugar and rubber. It was ignited by dipping it into an asbestos bottle filled with sulfuric acid. It proved expensive, and more than a little dangerous to carry around when, say, dancing at Versailles. Different chemical mixtures of varying volatility and toxicity were tried and discontinued over the next fifty years.
The first friction matches were British products known as lucifers. They were prone to rather violent ignition, shooting sparks and producing an unpleasant odor. In the 1830s they were replaced by a French process that introduced white phosphorus and, even though the matches had to be kept in an airtight metal box, these finally caught on in the United States as they had elsewhere.
The safety match creates a mass market
Back in Europe, the manufacture of matches poisoned those who worked in the factories. Breathing fumes from white phosphorus caused severe bone disease and culminated in a dramatic strike by English match girls in 1888. Countries around the world gradually banned the use of white phosphorus.
Soon after, it was discovered that poisonous and unstable white phosphorus could be modified into a less toxic red form, which, when mixed with sulfur, did not fume in contact with the air. This could then be a real ‘strike anywhere’ match with a non-explosive head. The market for matches took off.
A Swede, Gustav Pasch, hatched the idea of using a striking surface as part of the chemical reaction. He employed red phosphorus in the striking surface and (eventually) potassium chlorate on the match heads. The reactivity of both, catalyzed by the heat of friction gave a quick and consistent ignition. The resulting safety match was first introduced in the 1850’s. In 1858 alone, the leading Swedish match company produced 12 million boxes. It led to matches becoming Sweden’s leading export, and the Swedes controlled over 60% of the world’s match production.
It’s difficult to overstate the importance of a small invention like the safety match to America in the 1870s. Cities were growing very rapidly after the Civil War. They teemed with wooden structures containing new gas stoves and appliances. These required lighting, but continuous open flames in the home often proved catastrophic. Add to this the ubiquitous tobacco smoking of the time and a steadily growing market for matches developed. The Swedish match monopoly could raise its prices without fear that demand would dive as a result. It became a sweet business to be in.
Back to St. Louis and Eichele
Augustus Eichele of St. Louis started a couple of match factories in the late 1850s and thrived in this business.
A wealthy man, Eichele sold his business to the rapidly consolidating Diamond Match Company in 1880, and devoted himself to more aesthetic pursuits.
Where the music comes in
As mentioned, Augustus built homes for each of his daughters on Carroll Street in Lafayette Square. The husbands of Annie and Elizabeth Eichele, Frederick Stierlin and Arthur Thiebes, respectively, shared an interest in music. They were ambitious enough to enlist their father-in- law to finance and incorporate a new venture, the Thiebes-Stierlin Music Company in 1894. The firm expanded the sale of various pianos and also published sheet music. This was like selling both vehicle and fuel. The company thrived, as a robust home entertainment market existed in the affluent German-American parts of St. Louis.
Business further prospered with the invention of the player piano in 1902. Thiebes-Stirlin also expanded into the sale of guitars and mandolins. They had just relocated their headquarters from 1895 Olive Street into a new Theodore Link-designed building at 1006 Olive Street, when a competitor, Kieselhorst Piano Company, moved in next door.
They formed the center of what became known as St Louis’s Music Row. It grew to include Ludwig-Aeolian, Baldwin Piano, Story & Clark and the Balmer & Weber Music House.
The family plays out
Augustus Eichele died at his Carroll Street home in 1900, but the business he financed survived and prospered. In 1910, Frederick built a five story piano factory on McKissock Avenue. Its 120 employees produced 1,500 pianos a year. The business failed, but reorganized in 1913 as the Wagner-Stierlin Piano Company. This venture also failed within the next couple of years. Frederick himself no longer associated with the business featuring his name.
Augustus’ daughter Annie Stierlin filed for divorce from Frederick Stierlin in 1907, citing his violent temper. They reconciled, but she filed again in 1916, after their two daughters had grown. By that time, Frederick was a salesman for a New York lace company. Thiebes-Stierlin renamed itself the Thiebes Piano Company in 1910. Arthur Thiebes and his family moved from 1723 Carroll Street to Longfellow Boulevard in Compton Heights in 1912, and lived there until 1936.
An evolution in popular music
By 1918, Thiebes Piano Company had grown to include Victrolas and Edison talking machines in their product line. At that time, player pianos cost from $475 to $900, and a new Victrola ran from $22.50 to $475. The nature of home entertainment had become more passive, letting the instrument, rather than a person, perform. This, in effect, primed the city for the new medium of radio. Arthur Thiebes sold his business to the Rudolph Wurlitzer Company in 1919. Wurlitzer stayed pretty true to the hybrid model of selling keyboards and record players. These evolved into electric organs, and the jukeboxes that later appeared in diners and malt shops everywhere. Music performance had, by then, come a long way from playing sheet music on a piano in the parlor.
The Thiebes-Stierlin company building, dating from 1904, still stands on Olive Street as the Ludwig Lofts. The six story beauty remains connected to the former Kieselhorst Piano Company. It listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2003. Note the fading ghost sign from Thiebes-Stierlin on its upper west side.
Parlaying a fortune made in matches into the dawn of a mass market entertainment age is no small feat. However, two generations of Lafayette Square residents accounted for a bridge from old to new in the early 20th century.
Epilogue
Individuals in the same line of work, whether it was the law, or ornamental ironwork, or even music often found themselves living together in Lafayette Square. For instance Charles Balmer, a prolific composer and music publisher had his music store at 1004 Olive Street as Balmer and Weber Music House. He lived at 1918 LaSalle Street in the Square. Balmer played organ at Christ Church for 46 years and conducted the music for Abraham Lincoln’s 1865 funeral in Springfield, Illinois.
Incidentally, Frederick Stierlin’s father, Henry, was a Major in the Union army, having organized the first Union cavalry company in the state. His unit fought at both the battles of Wilson’s Creek and Pea Ridge. Under Nathaniel Lyon, he was later in charge of the secret removal of ammunition and stores from the St. Louis Arsenal to Alton, Illinois, to prevent the arsenal from falling into the hands of Confederate sympathizers. He also drew up the legislation that abolished slavery in Missouri.
One other thing: The image on the left, below, copyrighted in 1900. The image on the right was from an Edison Phonograph in 1909:
RCA Victor and Edison were competitors. I wonder if Edison’s advertising was a good-natured jab at Nipper. The dog listens, alert but passive – the boy is all rock and roll.
Resources
Various advertisements and references in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, St. Louis Star-Times, and Missouri Republican newspapers
An excellent short history of match development on Wikipedia; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Match
A comprehensive and well photographed philatelic collector page on tax stamps at rdhinstl.com.
2010 Lafayette Square Spring House Tour Booklet, with thanks to Mitchell and Devyani Hunt of Lafayette Square for a good overview of the Carroll Street homes.
“Part Of Music Row Threatened”; Michael Allen for Preservation Research Office; 2012; http://preservationresearch.com/downtown/part-of-music-row-threatened/
Lafayette Square Marquis; Cara Jensen; June 2008 for detail on Charles Balmer.
German-Americans formed a musically inclined community. For more of a related topic, I recommend an earlier essay of mine, lafayettesquarearchives.com/1884-the-opera-diva-and-lafayette-square/
And special thanks to Chuck and Cindi Lash, formerly of Lafayette Square for additional information and clarification.
Loved this story Mike. Thanks for sharing our stories with us. We are richer for them.
I appreciate your readership, Carolyn. Lafayette Square remains fascinating as ever. Best to you and Mike.
I am amazed at how some people move from business to business with such facility and persistence. And how some archivists move from topic to topic and age to age with such ease, dexterity and resolve. Most impressive.
You’re too kind, sir. I, in turn, am amazed at people who can remember and relate all the experiences and emotions along their journey. So there’s a nifty log roll to you!