Behind the grand façade: The rich history of St. Louis City Hall

A look at the history, design, and a few significant historical events involving this iconic building

Apr 17, 2024

Welcome to another Unseen St. Louis, where I share stories about lesser-known aspects of St. Louis history. In this article, I’m going to discuss the history of St. Louis City Hall—a highly visible and well-known building with a rich and complex past that many people may not realize.

St. Louis is a city of rich history and spectacular architecture, and City Hall, located at the intersection of Tucker Blvd and Market St, is no exception. Many of us have driven past this unusual building and perhaps even conducted business within its walls. But did you know it wasn't always St. Louis's city hall? Let’s explore the origins of this historic building, delve into its distinctive architectural features, and learn about a couple of episodes in City Hall’s past.

*St. Louis City Hall today. Source: City of St. Louis*

Early St. Louis town hall buildings

In the early days of St. Louis, we had no city hall.

From 1808 to 1827, town fathers convened in private homes, banks, or any available spaces. Records indicate that the clerk of the House of Delegates (today’s Board of Aldermen) was tasked with translating each ordinance into French, creating five copies, and posting them on the doors of prominent citizens and the church.

In 1827, the City Council allocated $13,000 to construct a dual-purpose town hall and market on the Place D’Armes, located on the riverfront at Market and Walnut Streets. This building was notably saved from the fire of 1849 by men who stood on the roof and fought back the flames with wet blankets. Despite their efforts, it was demolished the following year.

Following the fire of 1849, City Hall operations were moved to the Old Courthouse, where the city leased space for $1,000 a year. Oddly, a replacement town hall was actually erected in 1851 with funds from a bond issue, but it wasn’t used as the city hall—a fortunate decision, as it was also destroyed by fire in 1856.

The origin story of today’s City Hall

In 1840, the City of St. Louis acquired six acres of land for $25,000 from Thomas Smith, who had married into the prominent Chouteau family. The plot, part of the Chouteau Hill Pond tract, became Washington Square Park. Over time, the city identified this land as the ideal site for a new City Hall, sparking discussions about the need for a more permanent and distinguished civic building.

*First City Hall, “the Barn,” circa 1910. Source: Missouri Historical Society*

The first concrete steps toward this vision were taken in 1868 when the city built its first dedicated City Hall building in 1872 on 11th Street between Market and Chestnut Streets. This three-story structure, costing $70,000, was intended as a temporary facility. “The Barn,” as locals referred to it, resembled a cross between a warehouse and a fire station.

Recognizing that the Barn was only an interim solution, the city continued its quest for a permanent structure. In May 1888, the city created the City Hall Commission, and by April 4, 1889, St. Louis had passed an ordinance to solicit bids for a new hall, capping the budget for construction at $1 million. This ordinance required the new building to be constructed using Missouri granite and specified size and layout requirements.

From there, the city launched a design competition, offering a $5,000 prize to attract leading architects. Six prominent architects from across the country submitted their proposals, with George Richard Mann of the firm Eckel & Mann of St. Joseph eventually winning the competition. His design, entitled “St. Louis 1892,” anticipated the building's completion by that year.

A few of the unsuccessful designs, as depicted in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 17 Nov 1889

Construction officially began on July 19, 1890, with Mayor Edward Noonan's daughter Zoe breaking ground, and the cornerstone was laid on June 6, 1891.

Despite the architect’s anticipated completion date of 1892, the building wasn’t opened until 1898 and remained incomplete until 1904. One reason for the prolonged construction period was that no bond issue was passed to fund the new City Hall. Instead, finances were derived from general revenue and the sale of city property. The Board of Aldermen also periodically authorized funds, averaging $110,000 every year or two, with a new spending cap of $2 million set by an ordinance on September 10, 1893.

Eventually, City Hall opened for business. On April 11, 1898, Mayor Henry Ziegenhein led a ceremonial parade from the Barn to the new building. However, despite such a grand opening, City Hall wasn’t finished. Still to be completed were the Tucker Street vestibule, the marble staircase, and the rotunda—all things so significant to the building today that it’s difficult to imagine City Hall functioning without them.

Construction continued until 1904, with the final push coming because of the attention the World’s Fair brought to the city. On November 5, 1904, the likely relieved Mayor Rolla Wells hosted an open house to showcase the completed City Hall to the citizens of St. Louis. The total cost for the construction came under budget at $1,787,159.

Later additions to the site included the Municipal Courts building in 1909 and the City Jail in 1915.

Architectural features of City Hall

Many say the design of City Hall is inspired by the Hôtel de Ville, Paris's city hall, yet Chris Naffziger makes a compelling case that it also draws heavily from the Chateau de Chambord in France. This influence is particularly evident in the ornamental dormers, known as belvederes, featuring unfinished bare limestone that was meant for carved decorations. These dormer windows distinctly echo the architectural style of Chambord. Either way, the French-inspired design was intentional, referencing the city’s French roots.

The building features a striking foundation of Missouri pink granite on the lower two levels, complemented by upper levels of sandstone and brick, all capped with a roof of burgundy-red clay tiles. City Hall’s rotunda, which extends four stories high, showcases floors of white Italian marble and walls clad in a mix of white marble, light and dark Tennessee marble, and black Glen Falls marble.

St. Louis City Hall with towers, 1930s. Source: Missouri Historical Society

After its completion, City Hall required several structural and functional modifications to address unforeseen issues and evolving needs.

Believe it or not, when it was first built, City Hall had three towers: an 80-foot tower above the Tucker entrance and two smaller, 19-foot towers on either side. In 1936, engineers investigating a water leak discovered significant corrosion caused by the galvanic reaction between the towers’ copper and their steel supports. Fearing a potential collapse, the towers were removed, causing public outrage. Although Mayor Dickmann promised to replace them, he never made good on his word. (I’ll have much more to say about Mayor Dickmann in my upcoming talk/article on the riverfront clearances.)

Meanwhile, the clock over the Tucker entrance, installed in 1906, originally struck the hour. By 1912, it was discovered that the striking mechanism caused too much vibration in the clock tower, leading to its deactivation.

Initially designed to house a bicameral city government, City Hall featured separate chambers for the House of Delegates and the City Council. Following the 1914 City Charter that eliminated the bicameral system and renamed the House of Delegates to the Board of Aldermen, the Board moved into the former House of Delegates chamber. The Board of Public Service now occupies the other chamber.

In 1943, during the war effort to clearly identify public buildings, the words "City Hall" were carved into the Market, Tucker, and Clark entrances. This compromise followed the Municipal Art Commission's refusal to allow Mayor Dickmann to install a red, white, and blue neon sign above the entrances.

City Hall’s artwork

St. Louis City Hall is not only a hub of civic activity and an architectural icon, but it also houses a number of artworks that are prominently featured throughout its halls and chambers.

Frederick Lincoln Stoddard's frescoes, which vividly depict early St. Louis scenes, adorn the spandrels between the arches in the rotunda. Meanwhile, Carl Bonfig painted murals at the Tucker and Market Street entrances in 1934. Initially, there were going to be six murals, but Bonfig completed only three before the Municipal Art Commission deemed them not to meet their artistic standards (keep in mind that this is the same organization that vetoed the mayor’s garish neon signs).

Inside, the Board of Aldermen chamber is decorated with murals by C. Arthur Thomas and features portraits of former mayors (including my favorite portrait of Bryan Mullanphy). The Board of Public Service chamber is enriched with five murals by William W. Davis of the Davis Art Glass Company, illustrating themes of "Time, Victory, Justice" and showcasing the Missouri and St. Louis seals. Additionally, the Mayor’s office houses five panels by Stoddard, and the Recorder of Deeds office displays a mural commissioned in 1971 by Joseph Bufalo.

The grounds of City Hall—still referred to as Washington Square Park—are home to a bronze statue of Ulysses S. Grant, crafted by Robert P. Bringhurst, a sculptor celebrated as one of St. Louis's first professional sculptors. This statue, the earliest still standing in the downtown area, was dedicated in October 1888 by the Grant Monument Association of Missouri and moved to its current location in 1914.

Additionally, a statue of Pierre Laclede by George Julian Zolnay was donated by the St. Louis Centennial Association and unveiled in May 1914. It portrays the St. Louis founder stepping from his boat onto the bank of the Mississippi River. As there was no image of Laclede to base the statue upon, it’s said to draw on the spirit of the pioneer rather than providing a literal likeness.

You can’t fight City Hall: The 1932 Riot

Let’s now look at a couple of historical episodes involving City Hall.

This first story takes us to the Great Depression. Many residents of St. Louis grappled with unemployment and the looming threat of being unable to pay for basic necessities such as rent and food. As early as April 1929, even before the stock market crash, there were already 75,000 unemployed individuals in the city. Mayor Victor J. Miller's efforts to provide relief proved insufficient and inconsistent, leaving many citizens in a state of desperation.

By July 1932, the Unemployed Council of St. Louis, a local branch of the National Unemployed Council organized in 1930 by the Communist Party in Chicago, planned a demonstration at City Hall.

*July 11, 1932: Demonstrators rush City Hall. Source: Post-Dispatch*

On July 11th, a crowd of 3,000 men and women, including civil rights and labor organizer Hershel Walker, congregated on the lawn of City Hall. Meanwhile, a committee of 12 attempted to deliver a list of demands to the mayor at noon. The demands were straightforward: halt all evictions for nonpayment of rent, release workhouse prisoners immediately, and adopt urgent relief measures. Although the committee presented these demands to the mayor's secretary and briefly appeared before the Board of Aldermen, they were informed that evictions were a state matter, relief efforts were advancing as quickly as possible, and the mayor lacked the authority to release prisoners.

John Braun, acting as the committee spokesman, addressed the officials, stating,

“We can’t tell those people outside that nothing has been done for them. They were fed last Friday after their demonstration here, by the relief agencies, but the next day they were refused. If there’s nothing done for them today, you’ll have to tell them. We can’t. We won’t. And you can use your own judgment about what is going to happen if you do tell them that."

Outside, the crowd grew restless, chanting for basic provisions: “We want bread. We want milk.”

One speaker told them, “Comrades, when the capitalists need you, they’ll pay you just enough to live on, and when they don’t, they’ll let you starve.”

As tensions escalated with no response from the mayor, a man named John McGrath told the crowd, “I want everybody here to show his spirit, because we’re coming to a climax.” He then prompted the women to lead a charge at the doors, believing the police would refrain from harming them.

*Yetta Becker. Source: St. Louis Post-Dispatch*

Yetta Becker, a young Communist activist who had already addressed the crowd, responded to McGrath's call: “We’ll break through the damned cops. The cops can’t stop us.” She led a group of women to the doors, chanting, “Parley voo, we’re coming through,” as they stormed City Hall, followed by a group of male activists.

To disperse the crowd and push them back from the building, the police retaliated with tear gas and revolvers. These actions led people to riot, with members of the crowd throwing bricks, stones, and bottles at the police and City Hall. These actions led to police shooting four men, over 20 documented injuries, and 42 arrests.

Police responding to rioters. Labels #1-2 are patrolmen firing pistols; #3 is a Post-Dispatch reporter; #4 is a man hit by a brick; #5 is a location where men were throwing bricks. Source: Post-Dispatch

Following the riot, many were arrested, including the committee of 12, McGrath, Becker, and two men named Ivy Lee and James Woods. McGrath was found to be carrying an ice pick, while Lee and Woods were accused of throwing rocks. Lee and Woods claimed they were unfairly beaten by police upon arrest, with Woods requiring hospital treatment. Another arrested man, Thomas Beezley, tragically took his life by ingesting poison days later due to concerns over the charges. His wife maintained that he was not a communist.

After the riot, the police took a harsh stance against Communist gatherings, threatening to meet future demonstrations with high-pressure fire hoses. However, the city eventually addressed the desperation that had led to the riot, allocating $2 million from city funds and recommending the issuance of bonds for a $4.6 million federal loan to reinstate thousands of families previously removed from the relief rolls.

Glider collision

Inside City Hall is a commemorative marble memorial remembering the tragic glider collision on August 1, 1943, that claimed the lives of the mayor and a founder of Lambert Field.

Among those honored are Mayor William Dee Becker and Major William Robertson, co-founder of Lambert Field. Both embarked on a demonstration flight intended to showcase the capabilities of unpowered gliders designed for World War II missions.

Glider passengers preparing for the flight. Pictured: Charles Cunningham, Max Doyne, Lt. Col. Paul Hazelton, Mayor William Dee Becker, Thomas Dysart, Maj. William Robertson, Harold Krueger, and Judge Henry Mueller. Source: St. Louis Post-Dispatch

The glider, constructed from steel tube, canvas, and plywood, was an example of the technology developed for dangerous assignments behind enemy lines. The day before the flight, Mayor Becker spoke about the importance of sharing the risks faced by soldiers. Speaking to reporters, he said, “They're asking our boys to use these things. Why shouldn't we?”

The demonstration turned tragic when, moments after its release from the transport plane at 2,000 feet, the glider's right wing catastrophically failed, leading to a fatal crash that claimed the lives of all ten aboard. Margaret Becker, Mayor Becker’s wife, was one of the many witnesses. She had wanted to accompany her husband, but Army regulations prohibited women from boarding military aircraft.

Immediately after the crash, Aloys P. Kaufmann, president of the Board of Aldermen, became mayor.

The crash led to an immediate investigation that revealed deficiencies in the glider's construction and prompted significant changes in manufacturing practices. Despite the accident, refitted gliders would be used for pre-dawn flights on D-Day.

Attempts to clean City Hall

And finally—a topic that invariably comes up whenever anyone talks about the building: why is it so dirty? The answer is more complex than you might think.

Almost immediately after its construction, coal smoke darkened the exterior, especially the porous sandstone. The discoloration was so severe that for decades, many people believed it had been constructed of black stone.

The first cleaning of the building took place in 1934, using Civil Works Administration workers. In addition to repairing the gutters and roof, the workers sandblasted the granite and sandstone exterior. After the black soot was removed, people were shocked by the natural stone's cream and pink colors and immediately clamored to have the black color returned.

As it turned out, those who liked the darkened stones were in luck, as the coal smoke problem continued to plague St. Louis, which had the worst air quality in the country. On November 23, 1939, “Black Tuesday,” the coal smoke and dust were so bad the day was nearly as dark as night, and people couldn’t find their way around the city.

*Bus at 12th and Market St., Nov. 29, 1939, the day after Black Tuesday. Source: Post-Dispatch*

To address the pervasive coal smoke problem, in 1937, Mayor Dickmann appointed future mayor Raymond Tucker as “Smoke Commissioner” and charged him with finding a solution for cleaner air. In April 1940, the Board of Aldermen enacted a comprehensive ban that mandated either the use of cleaner "hard" anthracite coal—replacing the cheap, high-sulfur "soft" coal from Illinois—or the installation of mechanical stokers. Everyone was required to follow this new plan, including local residents, power plants, factories, and even the railroads. By 1941, this initiative had significantly cleared the air in St. Louis, although by this time City Hall was once again coated in a layer of black soot.

In 1950, a few efforts were made to clean the building, and in 1960, workers completed a second thorough cleaning. These and the previous efforts not only removed the soot but also damaged the stone in the process. Sandblasting eroded some of the stone, while applications of hydrofluoric acid left behind stains, causing the mottled (and permanent) appearance we see today.

*Discoloration of sandstone upper stories. Source: St. Louis Post-Dispatch.*

Research in 1992 into cleaning the stone went nowhere. Then, in 1998, Mayor Clarence Harmon and his wife, Janet Kelley-Harmon, obtained a $25,000 grant to study the building's structural and cosmetic issues, though due to a lack of sufficient funding, they were unable to pursue any significant restoration.

By 2013, the issue had only gotten worse, prompting Michael Allen, an architectural historian and currently the Executive Director of the National Building Arts Center, to highlight the issue:

"We inaugurate the mayor in this space. The building is a symbol of our civic sense of self, about the image we want to project. If you go down there now, there is an attitude of neglect."

Not everyone has advocated for a pristine exterior. In 1992, Norbert Groppe, the president of the Board of Public Service, noted: “We’ve got the building protected against the elements. The smudges and the black spots don’t bother me. I love the building.” Meanwhile, Gary Sextro, local restoration expert, suggested the current appearance adds character, likening it to “the appearance of an old European castle, with the black and the grime. If it’s cleaned, people are going to say, ‘Whoa! Who mixed these colors?’ ”

As always, thanks for reading. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Unseen St. Louis