1860: Lafayette Square on First  

Baseball by Currier and Ives; 1866

A college game moves west

A little known aspect of Lafayette Park history involves its role in expanding our national pastime. In the 1850’s, the mansion of Edward Bredell Sr. stood directly across from the park on Lafayette Avenue. Edward Sr. made his fortune in mining and dry goods wholesaling. He later established the Missouri Glass Company as an enterprise for his son to manage. Edward Jr. attended Brown University, where he likely was introduced to New York rules baseball. Games involving balls and bats in various forms have been described as early as the 1820s, but the New York game was well defined and quickly gained popularity in that area

A second young man, Merritt Griswold, was a baseball enthusiast from Brooklyn. He relocated to St. Louis in early 1859 and took a job at Bredell’s Missouri Glass Company. Soon realizing their shared interest in the new game, Merritt and Edward Jr. founded the Cyclone Base Ball Club that summer. They became local missionaries for the New York game around St. Louis, The two published rules, a field layout and player positions in a Daily Missouri Democrat in 1860 (see below). Within a year, eight other teams formed in the city.

The park becomes Lafayette Field

At that time Lafayette Park’s funding came entirely from private citizens through a Board of Improvement. Edward Bredell Sr. and family had settled as original residents, around 1850, on Lafayette Avenue across from the park. He had a seat on the board, and voted his approval for the Cyclone Club, which paid $600.00 for dedicated use of a portion of the park. It happened to be Colonel Grimsley’s old parade grounds, the first developed part of the park, flat and grassy by design.

Daily Missouri Republican; March 5,1861

For his part, Griswold worked with one local team, the Morning Star club which played a variant style of ball. He converted them to the New York version. Game on! The first competitive baseball game played west of the Mississippi under the new rules took place on July, 9th, 1860. It occurred on a field near the St. Louis Fairgrounds. No pitcher’s duel, the final score was Morning Stars 50, Cyclones 24. 

Lafayette Park did host games, beginning with a match on March 6.1861. Baseball’s appeal spread fast, and by late that spring, it was hotter than pickleball. Various groups quickly took up the sport, eager to compete on the basepaths.

Daily Missouri Republican May 22,1861

The original Cyclones enjoyed only a short stint on this home field, lasting no longer than 2 years. The Civil War called men away, and frayed the camaraderie of those who remained. The Union army commandeered Lafayette Park for use as an encampment.

War intervenes – games cancelled

Griswold moved east, joining the Union army. He returned to St. Louis as part of a federalized militia, and figured in the Union capture of Fort Jackson. For their part, the Bredells’ sympathies lay with the Confederacy.

Edward Bredell Jr. was captured at Vicksburg, but later paroled. He subsequently joined John Mosby’s Rangers in a series of skirmishes against the cavalry of Philip Sheridan. He was killed in action in Virginia, buried on the field of battle, and later reinterred on the grounds of his father’s house on Lafayette Avenue. (as St. Louis forbade burial of Confederate soldiers in city cemeteries). Today, his grave is with that of his family at Bellefontaine Cemetery.

Still at it today in their wooly uniforms

The game, however, survived very nicely, thrilling St. Louisans to this day. You can grab a bit of this storied heritage for yourselves in Lafayette Park, which plays host to the St. Louis Cyclones and Perfectos vintage base ball clubs. You’ll find a schedule and much more at https://cyclonebbc.wordpress.com/2017-schedule/ for the Cyclones and https://www.facebook.com/stlouisperfectos/ for the Perfectos. Play ball! 

Cyclones and Perfectos – two home teams!

Resources

The always reliable Find a Grave website was a useful source of information on Edward Bredell Sr. https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/14011069/edward-bredell

A wonderful account of the long and eventful burial of Edward Bredell Jr appears in This Game Of Games, an incredible survey of 19th century baseball in St. Louis. Jeff Kittle is a great storyteller and researcher of the game. I recommend that you visit his site. https://www.thisgameofgames.com/home/category/william-faulkner/

Another site, Baseball’s Greatest Sacrifice, recounts the professional players who gave their lives to military service. Among the hundreds listed, the first is Edward Bredell Jr. https://www.baseballsgreatestsacrifice.com/table_of_all_players.html

Edward Bredell’s home was next to that of Charles Gibson, who I call “The Father Of Lafayette Park.” Bredell’s large and comfortable estate was razed and redeveloped by iron magnate William Simpson in 1892. A look at who’s who on Lafayette Avenue in the 1850s appears in my earlier essay; lafayettesquarearchives.com/1858-palmatary-maps-the-square/

Missouri Democrat field layout by Griswold and Bredell; 1860

1994: Ruth Weighs In On a Neighborhood Milestone

Back in 1995, first-wave restorationist and Lafayette Square MVP Ruth Kamphoefner composed a tidy summary of observations and cautionary tales from her 25 years in the neighborhood. It not only paid tribute to some outstanding doers, but feels nearly as appropriate today as it did then. I’m in awe of Ruth, and what she accomplished in her decades here. What I write is surely inadequate. She can better convey some of it for me. In her own words… 

Early in the 1970s, so many people came to house tours that we had lines half a block long in front of houses. So many properties sold that we envisioned the complete restoration of Lafayette Square within a year or two. 

“Pretty soon we won’t need to have any more house tours!” I gloated to Jerry Ferrell, LSRC president at the time. 

Dreamer. 

As if a neighborhood would ever be complete! As if we could ever stop working or making improvements! Or that we would have no more problems or crises! As if a neighborhood, once rebuilt, could never slide back or go to sleep, or come apart at the seams!

But it could happen. Now, 25 years later, I can see a few raggedy spots that either were never restored, are deteriorating after a job poorly done, or are in danger of being sold for less quality uses – all because the houses are no longer selling as fast as we would like. 

So let’s go back… How did those first restorers in the early 70’s accomplish their miracle? 

We marketed the houses. Not real estate agents. Not one wanted to touch the Square. Here’s how it worked: An hour after I ventured into the Square, April 18, 1970, I was dragged through four houses. Then a list of houses was thrust into my hands. I was called again a few days later. “Are you having any luck?” Well, I had already bought a house. And Bill and Dean Keyes bought another of the four houses I had seen. 

Ruth’s first house in the Square.

Technically, most of the houses on the list were not for sale, but the owner might have mentioned to someone that he’d like to sell and move to the county, in so many words, “get out.” That got him on the list. The list was our method for years, until several real estate people discovered us. Kirby Greene was the first of them to take a sincere interest in the Square and trained many young restorers to market a house in a professional way. 

Before that, all marketing was done grassroots style. At one of our first meetings, someone suggested we place a homes for sale ad. Imagine: paying to advertise your neighbors’ homes without their knowledge! They chose my phone number because I stayed at home working on my house while the children were in school. People called, picked up a list and negotiated their own bargains. Occasionally we badly goofed. One day a radio DJ that had just moved to St Louis wise cracked (almost like Jack Carney) on the phone about whether we had any ramshackle houses for sale cheap. I didn’t answer very enthusiastically because I thought I was talking to some kind of nut. 

The caller was Jack Carney! A few days later, Jerry Ferrell followed up with him only to learn that he had already chosen a house in the Central West End. Bill and Dean Keyes and Jerry continued to pursue him, leading to Jack becoming one of our biggest fans. He gave us many a free news plant on KMOX. 

Don Daniels, when he became president, also believed in do-it-yourself real estate sales. He went after a new school superintendent and other dignitaries, hoping they might settle in the Square.

Our strategy was to think cautiously and pessimistically but do all our talking optimistically. No one breathed a word to prospective buyers that this area was a red light district. In the meantime, we began to restrict the livelihood of those nice little piano-legged ladies who plied their trade along Mississippi and Lafayette Avenues.

“Get the license plate number of anyone who slows down to pick one of them up.” instructed Dennis Mertz, a young lawyer who had recently moved to the Square. After finding the name and address of each license plate owner, he would write a letter to the owner’s home, addressed to Mrs.___, not Mr.___, warning the would-be customer not to soil our turf.

But two brothels remained into the 80’s and were more difficult to dislodge. We enlisted the help of the vice squad. That worked until the media caught on; one front page headline (on a slow news Monday) read, “Sin Rears It’s Ugly Head In Lafayette Square.” Just the type of  advertising we had tried to avoid!

Another thing we didn’t talk about: the fires. Weekend entertainment. Insurance fires – not hard to spot because the owners usually carried out the televisions a day before. And if there weren’t insurance fires, blazes still proliferated because the owners had heard that their properties would bring in more cash as vacant land (sell it to the government) than as land with buildings on it. Every teenager knew how to make a molotov cocktail, so often on Friday nights and all day Saturday we would hear the fire trucks screaming through the Square. 

Result? We couldn’t get insurance. Hank Johnson to the rescue! He was the first and only agent in 1971 willing to put any faith in these old houses and the dedicated greenhorn restorers who bought them. 

Hank Johnson and family in the Square in 1995. Greg Holzhauer’s Post article labeled this photo, “Taking A Pass On The Suburbs”

Who would loan money on a house in such a neighborhood? Nobody! So Dennis Mertz volunteered each Friday afternoon to buttonhole St Louis bankers. He armed himself with a chart of all the money invested in each house and a book full of before and after photos. That, and the house tour, with plenty of complimentary tickets strewn about, whetted the appetite of some very gracious loan officers at Mercantile Bank. We now knew where to send our prospective buyers for loans.

Officials from Mercantile Bank looking at sign thanking them for lending to Lafayette Square

For a long time, the city fathers talked about “those wild and crazy people in Lafayette Square.” The spouse of the Park Director told me flat out what was fervently believed by most city officials: Lafayette Park would soon become a trucking terminal! Long vacant houses in the neighborhood stood as eyesores, but newly vacant ones were getting demolition permits right and left. (The former were stripped of goodies, but newly vacant ones had wonderful salvage treasures for the wreckers). The Building Commissioner laughed at us when we requested more restraint in the issuance of permits. “If I want to, I can condemn and tear down any one of your houses. All I need is the report of one defect – a broken window, perhaps.” (I had 18 broken windows in my house.) We called him “Snaky” Brown, and we had our laugh when a few months later he was convicted of taking bribes from demolition contractors. 

The Seventh Ward godfather, Ray Leisure, and his relatives, Paul Simon and the Webbes, didn’t know what to make of us. We were a new breed to them – college educated lawyers, architects, engineers, teachers – not a welfare recipient or school drop-out among us. We didn’t go to Ray’s tavern to get parking tickets fixed. When invited to our meetings, first he ignored us; then he avoided us, and refused to meet at all. When, in 1974, Justine Wilderman uncovered the extent of his voting corruption, we jumped in and became political activists. We took menial jobs as poll watchers, challengers, election officials, door to door literature distributors, and envelope addressers. 

All this was an adventure, but it wasn’t easy. When restoration-minded realtors finally began marketing our houses, it lifted a tremendous load from the shoulders of the first restorationists. Eventually, the LSRC could stop keeping the “list”. That was a glorious time because housing prices went higher and higher. All of us early restorers began calculating how much our houses would be worth if we really wanted to sell. 

Of course, we were over-estimating because then came the new tax laws of 1986, and the sudden decline of housing prices. The media, who we first considered our best friends, began to look on us as a source of juicy crime stories, even though our per capita crime statistics are  lower than most other parts of the metropolitan area. 

A portion of “The List”, from 1970

Real estate people work hard. I know, because I’ve been on the selling end many times. They can’t sell a house for a high or even a normal price if there are negatives about it or the surrounding area. It’s still up to us to do everything possible to improve every aspect of our neighborhood. Look up and down your street and alley. What needs improving and what can you do about it? Talk positive, but above all, do something about the problems. There’s a lot more to selling a house that a real estate agent can provide. 

If you had to sell your house, you’d want the market to be brisk – you’d want a good price for all your hard work. Well, don’t sit back and wait for that market to appear out of the blue.

You are the one in partnership with the realtors, marketing the Square. Believe me, once you’ve helped eliminate the problems, you won’t ever want to sell out and leave this Square! Join me. I’ll see you at next Tuesday’s meeting!

Ruth Kamphoefner

Note: An earlier essay recounts the relationship between neighborhood and city building inspector in the 1970s. Here’s a link: lafayettesquarearchives.com/1975-a-felonious-bldg-commissioner/

1979: The Pony Was The People

The LSRC neighborhood association turned ten years old in April of 1979. A resident wit and frequent contributor to the Marquis turned her attention to commemorating that anniversary. Linda Underwood lived for years on Whittemore Place. With her husband Gary, she was an early and frequent advocate for the neighborhood, involved in the day to day restoration of Lafayette Square. She did this with unfailing humor and the ability to take it all in stride.

Here’s a lightly edited and photo enhanced excerpt from her Marquis article, “You Think Lafayette Square Is Weird Today…Read On”

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1874: Wire Titans Of Lafayette Square

In 1874, an innovative farmer from DeKalb, Illinois received the original patent for barbed wire. Joseph Glidden established the Barb Wire Fence Company with Isaac Ellwood, also of DeKalb. It’s doubtful that either man foresaw this invention becoming one of what the BBC recently listed as “the 50 things that made the modern economy.” 

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1893: Iron Men Of Lafayette Square – Christopher And Simpson

All the iron on Earth originated in large stars that existed before our Sun even formed. Iron is the final product of a star’s radioactive decay, which fuses hydrogen atoms to form ever heavier elements. When the hydrogen fuel is exhausted and sufficient mass accumulates in the core of the star, it no longer supports its own gravity, and explodes; or so I’m told. In that supernova explosion, huge chunks of iron can be thrown many light years into space. Such a chunk came to land in eastern Missouri’s St. Francois County and became Iron Mountain. 

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1872: Like A Ton Of Bricks (Part 2)

To begin with..

Detail of Letterhead Logo for Hydraulic Press Brick Company of St. Louis (1883)

St. Louis is situated on some terrific ground with which to build a durable city. Limestone bluffs once lined the riverfront, and were quarried for facades and foundations. As mentioned in the preceding essay, a long deep seam of high grade clay ran under present day Manchester Road. There was coal galore, conveniently mined from the same area as the clay. Mold and fire the clay and you have a brick. Handy materials for an incredibly fast growing, if fire-prone city. Inexpensive and plentiful Italian and Irish immigrant labor kept production costs low. A terrible fire led to a city ordinance in 1849 mandating brick as the city’s construction material. Many such buildings have lasted over 150 years.

Edward Sterling (1834-1911) founded a bonafide brick-making empire, based in St. Louis. Early in his life, his uncle Elisha was managing a steam furnace company in Cleveland. Looking to diversify the business in the 1850’s, Elisha and his associate Ethan Rogers looked into the manufacture of bricks.

Until that time, brick production consisted of forming clay into molds by hand and then kiln-firing in batches. Now, late into the industrial revolution, underlying assumptions about labor and efficiency were challenged in almost every aspect of the economy.

Rogers invented and patented “a new and improved machine for molding and pressing brick by hydraulic pressure”¹. The first hydraulic brick machine was put into service in Cleveland in 1856. Three years later, that machine was sold to a manufacturer in Nashville, and eventually melted down for ordnance during the Civil War.

Now, about Edward Sterling

As a young man going his own way, Elisha’s nephew Edward unsuccessfully tried his hand at running a lumber company. He then returned to Cleveland and secured a financial interest in the patent rights for Rogers’s hydraulic dry brick press. Edward acquired a new press and in 1860 moved that 33-ton, cast iron machine to Memphis. In 1860, this press produced 8 million bricks in 11 months.

When the Civil War interrupted his production in Memphis, Sterling established a plant in St. Louis, He leased a brickyard near the southeast corner of Chouteau and Mississippi streets (in what is now Lafayette Square) and began manufacturing in late April 1865. With the luck of being in the right place at the right time, the following month brought the end of the Civil War, and began a long process of physical reconstruction.

Hydraulic gathers steam

The Sterlings family business soon attracted other investors, and Hydraulic Press Brick Company incorporated in 1868.

Edward Sterling became Hydraulic’s first president. The company took over the buildings, equipment and machinery in use at the plant on Chouteau and Mississippi. It also acquired an interest in the rights to three patents: the Rogers hydraulic press; a novel design for a brick kiln; and another design for an improved “perpetual kiln.” Hydraulic’s annual production in 1868 amounted to around 5 million bricks, and 7 million the following year. Sterling claimed this output was far less than the demand.

The quality of this brick – heavy, dense, and strong – proved itself in tests conducted by the government. The crush strength of a Hydraulic brick proved more than twice that of conventional handmade brick of the time. James Eads also performed tests and praised the solidity of Hydraulic brick. The product thus began selling itself. With both press and kiln patented, profits flowed to Sterling’s enterprise. Hydraulic product was used in the construction of Eads Bridge, the Bissell Point water treatment plant and Anheuser-Busch brewery. As word spread, it found use is both Chrysler and Manhattan Life buildings in New York.

By the end of 1872, the company had increased its throughput to nearly 18 million bricks a year. With 14 kilns and 2 brick presses, the plant could produce nearly 9,000 bricks per hour.

Getting the local bearings

It’s possible to locate both Sterling’s home and business on the 1875 Compton and Dry map of St. Louis. At that time he lived at the intersection of 14th and Chouteau Ave. His Hydraulic Press Brick Works had migrated down the road to Chouteau and Grand.

As the company yards followed excavation of the clay deposits, several moves west ensued. The works eventually resettled at Kingshighway, where it remained at the turn of the 20th century. Hydraulic Press Brick by then was churning out over 100 million bricks per year, It was, by then, the largest brick company on Earth.²

300 million per year. Note: H.W. Eliot – Secretary and eventually President of HBP Co. was poet T.S. Eliot’s father.

Epilogue

Edward retired from the business in 1905. Eight years earlier, he prepared a home to retire to, in Redlands, California. “La Casada” was a 22 room mansion of 8,000 square feet. Italian/Mission Revival in style, it featured extensive formal Italian gardens and seven landscaped terraces running down a hillside. Scenic America magazine in 1912 proclaimed this home to be “The most beautiful residence in all southern California”…

with nary a brick in sight.

Thanks to research sources, including

(1) Mimi Stiritz – National Bldg Arts Center 2017. Much of this post is influenced by her work at http://web.nationalbuildingarts.org/collections/clay-products/ornamental-brick/hydraulic-brick-company-the-early-years/

(2) Mound City On the Mississippi. City of St Louis Planning and Urban Design Agency

Bob Corbett of Webster University did an extensive amount of research into mapping the proximity of coal and clay mines in the Dogtown area of St. Louis. It proves the point in this essay’s first paragraph. http://faculty.webster.edu/corbetre/dogtown/history/mines.html

Thanks also to Michael Allen and Chris Kallmyer “The Land and The Brick” http://www.chriskallmyer.com/works/commonfield-clay/commonfield-clay-interviews/land

Part one of this essay series on St. Louis brick appears here: lafayettesquarearchives.com/1849-like-a-ton-of-bricks-part-1/

1861: Judge Leo Rassieur

The advent of civil war was a perilous time to be a state in the middle U.S. There were slave states with deep economic interests in that “peculiar institution,” and free states where slavery wasn’t legal. However, four slave states did not secede from the US in 1861: Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky and Missouri. These states walked a tricky line, and it required political and sometimes military maneuvering to prevent their secession.  

c/o National Park Service
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1894: The Rainwater Rifles

In a recent essay here about Augustus Eichele, the match king of Lafayette Square, his obituary mentioned his membership in the Rainwater Rifles.  Curiosity roused, I plunged into a deep pool of Rainwater. 

21 Benton Place in Lafayette Square dates back to 1870. Noted architect John H. Maurice designed it for Brevet General John S. Cavender (1824 – 1886). The new owner commanded the 1st Missouri Volunteer Light Artillery during the Civil War. He was a veteran of the battles of Wilson’s Creek, Shiloh, Vicksburg and Fort Donelson.

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1880: Matches, Pianos and the Square

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. 

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1859: Lafayette Park and Krausnick

Sometimes the research for a historical essay seems linear enough, but then pinballs off at unanticipated angles. I set about to simply find some background on Edward Krausnick, the little-remembered first superintendent of Lafayette Park. What followed is a reminder that real lives seldom follow a linear narrative.

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