Sometimes scary tales involve something one wouldn’t associate with a threat. Something pleasant to the eye, that wouldn’t hurt a fly. Little wild violets, for example.
We once had a home with a large yard in South County. Pat came in beaming one spring morning, delighted by the little blue flowers that had appeared in our lawn.
Horses are beautiful creatures; large, strong and well-suited to working with people. They found an immediate home in the heart of American cities.
St. Louis had challenges on many levels in dealing with its own waste. Without a dissipating wind the coal smoke hung like a low shroud over the city. Sewage often refused to drain properly, garbage was dumped in open pits, and animals died without proper burial.
Several years ago, I visited with Andrew Weil, Executive Director for Landmarks Association of St. Louis. This group is “the primary advocate for the (St. Louis) region’s built environment.” They’re a group essential to identifying and preserving the best of our architectural heritage. On the wall behind Andrew’s office desk is a large photo of three townhouses in Lafayette Square. Recognizing them, I asked Andrew about their significance to him. He replied that they are his favorite houses in the city. No small praise there.
1738 Park Place, 1827 Kennett Place and 2008 Rutger Street. There is something connecting these three non-adjacent Lafayette Square addresses.
They were the homes of three men, three brothers, and three partners in one of the most significant industries of late 19th century St. Louis. These were the Pullis brothers; Theodore, Augustus, and Thomas.
As architectural ironworks go, Mississippi Iron Works was both huge and diversified. Originally known as T.R. Pullis & Brothers, it created a number of the cast iron storefronts still standing in Lafayette Square, Laclede’s Landing, and in the fanciful gazebos of Tower Grove Park.
In July of 1896, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch published a handy reference, meant to remind the city’s young women of their social and personal safety rules. Interesting that they all began with the word “don’t.”
Sanborn Maps have been created for around 12,000 cities in the US, Canada and Mexico. They were designed so that insurance companies could gauge their risks, and therefore their liabilities from fire. These maps have been published since 1867. The largest collection is online at the US Library of Congress. A more local assortment from the early 1900’s is also available on the Missouri Digital Heritage site, referenced below.
They’re intriguing to explore for the snapshot they provide of our neighborhood during a particular year. Here are a couple of extracted examples, from the 1903 and 1908 Sanborn Maps.
1874; Missouri Historical Society; photo by Robert Benecke
Crowd management in the park
This victorian home in miniature was built as a single story police station in 1867, around the same time as the fence surrounding Lafayette Park. It was a field office of sorts for the main Soulard Police Station. Police stationed here dealt with the large crowds routinely drawn to events like Thursday concerts. These were held at the bandstand, the ruins of which remain to the northwest of the Park House. In 1873, the Daily Globe reported: “It has been rare that a fine day has called out less than five thousand people to listen to the music.” Historian John Albury Bryan noted,“crowds on Sundays exceeded those of Thursdays.” He quoted the St. Louis Republican from May 23 1877. “Visitors to Lafayette Park on Sunday, between 1pm and 6:45 pm totaled 13,749.”
Mahatma Gandhi famously said “the true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members.” The history of St. Louis institutions holds some good examples of enlightened philanthropy toward early residents.
A reference to ‘speaking tubes’ appeared during a look at old real estate listings around Lafayette Square. Being from split level suburbia, I’d never heard of them.
There’s something enchanting about the interplay of surfaces. This narrative was supposed to be about the mysterious painted rocks I occasionally encounter while walking the dog around Lafayette Square ( 7 to 8:30 a.m. on a sidewalk near you). It evolved into a general appreciation of the surface interactions we see around the Square. it’s also an outlet for the photos piling up from these morning rounds. It gets around to the rocks, so please read on.