Into the Night Soil
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Fifteen
centimeters from a bygone era
with the renowned
79th Regiment's New York City Highlanders
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by DS McGee
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This
partial view of the 20th Ward during 1867 illustrates
the
crowded conditions of life on the old West Side.
The edge of the infamous Tenderloin, runs along
the bottom of the map.
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The
old West Side of Manhattan and the Tenderloin nearby were
dynamic locales. In this magnetic area some of the highest
concentrations of tourist-oriented shopping by day, and
alternative entertainment by night, existed. Though not
nearly as extensive as the original destination, the direct
residue of this was the sensational Times Square of the
pre-1990s,
Within the lurid and somewhat vague parameters of the
sprawling Tenderloin (a place where the Empire State Building
now stands), and along the West Side of Manhattan as far
south as The Village, the purported oldest occupation
known to humankind, thrived for decades. From the ostentatious
and elaborate, to the most unceremonious two bit dives
and back alley operations designed solely for the lowest
pedestrian imaginable, a staggering array of these business's,
sometimes as many as ten per block, along with all night
dance halls, thematic drinking rooms, clip joints and
gambling parlors of every description, kept endless doors
swinging and numerous streets humming at all hours, as
visitors and denizens of every level of social strata
whooped it uncontrollably.
A
scandalous area rife with lascivious drama and fighting,
eagerly catering to what in more recent times might be
referred to as the 'bridge and tunnel crowds'. Much of
it a cantankerous place, particularly at night, one noted
for its many theaters, countless saloons and brothels,
and according to one source from that time, responsible
for "more crime per square mile of redlight house
and saloon than in any other place in America". Gullible
visitors likely to be carrying cash-rolls were targeted
by the perspicacious characters roaming the shadows, leaning
out windows, and stationed in doorways, invariably with
alluring expressions on their faces. Ruffians, confidence
tricksters, ubiquitous hard luck dames, and a seemingly
endless supply of feral children, all scheming to relieve
folks of their most prized possessions by any effective
means. Sometimes ones' entire wardrobe, including shoes
and socks, was removed as well.
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Empire
State Building (34th Street), looking
north from a Sheridan Square rooftop.
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Sporting men and madcap adventurers gallivanting from
place to place, imbibing the sights, sounds, and tastes
of the freestyle juggernaut were often clear-headed to
a fault. Caterwauling in and around New York's Wild West
area one could expect to encounter the same ominous qualities
as in the Five Points, an equally plotting and pugnacious
locale a few miles south. One long ago subsumed by Chinatown,
and the rerouting of certain streets (today the intersection
of Worth & Baxter, near Mulberry Street or "Mulberry
Bend", just south of Canal Street). The epic film
Gangs of New York was set around the Five Points neighborhood
and key aspects of it were derived from historical accounts
of the old West Side/Hell's Kitchen. Incomprehensibly
corrupt from the beginning, some employed as New York's
Finest became de facto lifelong business associates of
the outfits, the muscle, and the riffraff who controlled
the immensely profitable scene. Gladly pocketing a direct
cut of any illegal activity in the area, no matter how
heinous in nature, and in the process developing fairly
secure second and third incomes throughout their 'law
enforcement' careers, not too mention endless favors via
the free flowing trickle-down politics in place within
the metropolis.
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From
the 1820s and 30s onward, the small strip of land known
as Manhattan Island was home to countless immigrants from
the 'Celtic Isles'. On census sheets from the time many
listed Ireland, England, Scotland or Wales as their place
of origin. Descendents of the Saxon tribes, or Germanic
people, were well represented then too. Many other nationalities
and groups were a lasting, integral part of this page
in history as well. In the decades following the great
famines of the 1840s a never ending queue of ships brought
millions to New York City. From Hell's Kitchen to The
Village, much of the surrounding neighborhoods became
inundated with working class, poor, and destitute immigrants.
Sharp divisions existed between clans and some tribal
rivalries went back many centuries; though the days and
nights of "long" sword battles between neighbors
and others were basically gone, a keen-witted and cautious
nature prevailed. Ones' hometown, national pride, religious
sympathies, different accents, variation in personal style,
attire, and so on, were good enough reasons for unrestrained,
ferocious interactions along the West Side. As in the
Five Points, any perceived slight could instigate brawling,
and create varying degrees of mayhem and chaos, some incidents
lasting for days, as conflagrations raged.
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Despite
a long intricate history involving numerous invasions,
large scale massacre, slavery, and assorted "land
clearances" (in the process all but a few losing
the ability, or right, to speak native dialects and openly
practice ancient religious and spiritual rituals), extensive
genetic information reveals a remarkably intact, close
connection regarding essentially all of the people of
the Isles. Curiously, leading geneticists have concluded
that English, Welsh, Scottish and Irish genes are all
very closely related, much more so than anyone realized,
reaching back into antiquity many millennia ago. In many
instances their histories, particularly the working class
and poor, are also similar, yet potent cultural differences
persist to this day. While fleeing the aftermath of famines
and epidemics, a large percentage of these groups were
betting it all on the possibility of survival in the United
States. As in other cities and towns, New York social
and political alliances were developed in close knit neighborhoods.
People considered kin were automatically looked after
to some degree but ongoing enmity towards those who were
not continued. For a host of reasons, ramped-up conflict
and strife were part of the equation. Even so, despite
reflexive prejudices of the time, and adversity from the
general citizenry, an inherent stubbornness, tenacity,
and ingrained wit, allowed some to make notable strides
through the ranks of serious politics, public service,
construction, commerce, the military, and other fields,
in a comparatively short amount of time.
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"Life
sketches in the metropolis. Our homeless poor.
Early morning in Donovan Lane, near Five Points."
Frank Leslie's illustrated newspaper, March 1872.
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By
1860 about one in four of Manhattan's 850,000+ residents
were these newcomers, and many adapted quickly in order
to persevere. Indigenous peasants fleeing centuries of
plantation life, plagues, and cultural devastation difficult
to comprehend today, many were leaving a tenuous existence
of unrequited servitude. Like many other places, various
forms of protracted bondage, from sources far away and
from those nearby, are an inescapable part of the estimated
10,000 year history of the Isles.
Predominantly
field workers, farm hands, and servants, life in overcrowded,
industrialized New York was a dramatic alteration on many
levels, but one which could not be avoided. A grim result
of the darkest side of monoculture (relying on one main
food source) these dire quotes pertaining specifically
to Ireland, illustrate the immediacy of the situation
in places throughout the Isles: "The roads are beset
with tattered skeletons" and "armies of near-naked
beggars who'd pawned their clothes for food, abandoned
houses, deserted villages." "Disease followed
on famine: typhus, cholera, and purpura raced unchecked
through the weakened population." The citizenry was
"halved" going from eight million to about four
million within a decade and "…the composition
of America's population permanently altered."
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Looking
west towards the Hudson, dig site
located left of center behind townhouses.
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The
city had become one of, if not the, fastest growing industrial
centers in the world, attracting literally hundreds of
thousands of highly expendable subsistence-wage and other
level workers virtually overnight. In 1851 the Hudson
River Railroad opened a station at West 30th Street. In
its wake countless additional business's abounded, breweries
and soda-water factories, malt houses, stone cutting yards,
large stables and slaughter houses, lumber and coal yards,
etc. Along with this boom substandard dwellings intended
to house the newly arrived immigrants sprang up overnight,
sometimes right alongside stretches of stylish townhouses
identical to the one we dug behind recently. Around that
time downtown Manhattan alone is said to have contained
some 20,000 mostly small or mid-sized factories and sweatshops
located within its diminutive land mass. After earlier
decades of expanding the island's actual size through
landfill or "tipping" projects, it is only 22.7
square miles today, and at 13.4 miles long and 2.3 miles
wide, it is the smallest, most densely populated county
in the United States.
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These
industrious factories, including William Ponds Knickerbocker
Soda Water, listed in 1848 at #164 W18th Street, on his
eye-catching 8-sided cobalt blue bottles, were situated
in what was by the 1850s, fully developed residential
and commercial areas. Insurance maps of the period show
the congestion of the West Side where nearly every single
lot had at least one structure on it, many with back buildings
too. Larger industry and shipping were more noticeable
when venturing further west. A place which featured a
ground-level freight railway running near the Hudson River,
one which did not always stop for pedestrians and children,
or anyone else unlucky enough to wind up haplessly caught
in its path. The flag-carrying horsemen who rode out in
front of these trains for 85 years were commonly referred
to as 'West Side cowboys'. But the many casualties along
10th Avenue ("Death Avenue") persisted, and
it wasn't until the 1930s that it was finally replaced
by the High Line, which was built above the streets and
even went through some buildings. After years of disuse
a remaining 1 ½ mile stretch through the Meat Packing
District and West Chelsea, has been converted into a scenic
walkway; also called "New York's Park in the Sky".
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Of
those able to cobble together enough cash to get to New
York safely, many wound up taking positions in dreary
sweat shops or toiling for subsistence in similarly austere
and cheerless places. As illness and starvation were rampant
on these dicey voyages and safety never guaranteed, more
than a few folks had given up the ghost long before their
vessels were in sight of Castle Garden Immigration Station,
located in Battery Park. Aboard the so-called "coffin
ships" a mortality rate of 30% was not unheard of.
Still others, those considered too sickly, or who lacked
sufficient resources to persuade inspectors to let them
get off the boats, were turned away indefinitely. Contagious
and potentially deadly illnesses were always a major concern.
In the early 1870s the manmade islands off the eastern
coast of Staten Island, known as Hoffman and Swinburne,
had been arranged to quarantine those presumed to be seriously
ill. Eventually a crematorium was erected on Swinburne,
which disposed of diseased corpses. By 1938 both destinations
were being used to train Merchant Marines, today they're
wildlife sanctuaries and off-limits to the public.
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A
map of the city of New York, 1857-62,
showing the address listed on William Pond's
Knickerbocker Soda Water, second in from
top left, #164 West 18th Street.
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Having
arrived in an excessively competitive market for the cheapest
manpower available, physically predisposed immigrants
sought employment as canal diggers, stevedores, ice haulers,
coal heavers, hod carriers, railway grunts, and other
types of unskilled labor when they could get it; an income
while it lasted but one lacking modern benefits. Those
who could do it indefinitely, and some could, had a fair
chance of circumventing the worst of city slum life. The
long forgotten but notorious shantytowns, and similar
macabre sights around town, were earnest reminders of
how severe things could get for the working class and
their dependents. Man, woman or child of any creed or
shade, if, without regular resources and no longer able
to function in any occupation, their days were numbered.
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"Nellie
Bly", author, daredevil, and world traveler.
A woman of immense courage, intellectual capacity,
and beauty. This
photo from 1890 was taken just a few
years after her self-imposed stint in New
York's infamously brutal Blackwell's Island Insane
Asylum, situated in the East River.
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Along
with shantytowns, and sporadic clusters of ramshackle
residences fitfully pieced together with flotsam and jetsam,
something which had long been a part of the New York landscape
as far back as colonial times and as far north as Harlem,
there were a variety of institutions set up to aide, house
or detain those in dire need. Alms houses, assorted homes
for the friendless, wayward and destitute of all ages,
and, work houses, reform schools, jails, lunatic asylums,
and others, each with an impacting history of its own.
Nellie Bly (born Elizabeth Jane Cochran and also known
as "Pinky" and "Pink Cochrane"), a
hugely successful pioneer of undercover journalism, and
a granddaughter of early grassroots settlers from the
Isles, in her widely impacting "Ten Days In a Madhouse",
an exposé which detailed the brutal conditions
she experienced personally as a temporary inmate on Blackwell's
Island in 1887, gives a raw account of one of New York's
leading shadowy destinations for those deemed to be in
need of institutional assistance of one kind or another.
After Bly's book it was understood that some residents
of the Asylum simply could not speak English well, or
had other non-psychiatric disabilities, such as deafness,
which interfered with their ability to communicate effectively.
For decades the nefarious Blackwell's Island complex featured
a hospital, a penitentiary, alms houses, a large workhouse,
and a lunatic asylum. These situated on a tiny strip of
land in the East River, barely a stones throw from the
edge of midtown to the south, and within sight of Gracie
Mansion across the roily waters of Hell Gate to the north;
once called Welfare Island and today known as Roosevelt
Island, it lies under the 59th Street Bridge between Queens
and Manhattan.
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When
consulting census sheets for the West Side during the
1860s, everyday names like Samuel Malloy and Sarah McDonald
are seen, he from near Cullenagh, old County Queens Ireland,
and she from county Tyrone. Samuel a "shoemaker",
and volunteer in the renowned 79th Regiment who served
three years during the Civil War, and Sarah a "homemaker".
A mother who witnessed at least 3 infant deaths, and who
died herself before all five 'surviving' children reached
adulthood; Rebecca Belle Malloy born and raised within
the labyrinth of the old West Side being the only verified
long term survivor.
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A
hand written census sheet from June 1, 1880, detailing
head
of household, name, age, occupation, marital status,
education,
health (mental and physical), family connection
or relationship
to others living at the same address, place of
birth and parents
place of birth, etc. Along with Samuel Malloy
and Sarah McDonald,
nearly everyone on this sheet had emigrated from
Ireland,
or were children of immigrants from there.
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Interestingly,
the New York City "Highlanders", as the 79th
were known, were one of the Civil War's most striking
units. Early on they were the only kilted regiment representing
the Union army (kilts for ceremonial or parade use), and
they earned the distinction of being the first New York
regiment to answer the call for volunteers. Originally
consisting of emigrant Scots, these colorful characters
wore trews designed in the tartan of the European 79th
Cameron Highlanders while fighting; over time the Irish,
English, and others from the streets of the city would
join their ranks. Apparently they were the only unit in
US military history to be issued the kilt. Begun in late
1859 as a Scottish American fraternity associated with
the Caledonian Society, "the 79th without knowing
it, set themselves up to take part in nearly every major
engagement of the Civil War and become one of the most
known and traveled regiments in the Union army."
At one point General Sherman personally requested they
be attached to his command. After one battle in particular
a Confederate newspaper published this telling statement
about the New York Highlanders resolve in the face of
enemy fire, "Thank God Lincoln had only one 79th
regiment." A determined bunch overall, in the words
of one regimental historian commenting on the Civil War,
the 79th was referred to as a "hard drinking, hard
marching, hard fighting infantry regiment", one which
performed many great deeds during the war but refrained
from boasting. North or South of the border without a
doubt there were other curiously dressed hot-blooded ethnic
regiments at the beginning of the war, but a combination
of battlefield prowess, and the lasting impression of
the early parade kilts and the tartan, the ancient sporran,
glengarries, hose and garters, guaranteed that their presence
was most memorable.
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Unidentified
New York Highlander.
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New
York Highlander, 1st
sergeant James Barry.
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In
any event, volunteers like Sam Malloy often incurred injuries
while engaged in the many confrontations of the Civil
War (the Highlanders lost 502 men during the course of
the war). Though not nearly as bad as some of his contemporaries
on either side, it is known from army records that he
had been injured more than once, a broken right ankle
while on a charge at the Battle of South Mountain (right
before the Battle of Antietam), along with shrapnel to
the chest, heat exhaustion, and others.
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Many
years later in an affidavit handwritten by John Goodbaugh,
a fellow countryman, soldier, and longtime West Side resident,
"…I beg leave to say that I have ben personally
acquainted with the Claimant Samuel Molloy for 22 years
and have had every opportunity of seeing and knowing of
his Sickness as I have lived with him on and off for several
years past and have seen him suffering from Malarial Fever
and have heard him often complain of his Eyesight failing
him…" In Malloy's own haunting words: "My
eyesight since leaving the service could not endure much
strain neither have I been able to use them by gas light.
My injured ankle during the same period has greatly impaired
the strength of my leg and made it lame, rendering its
power of endurance a great deal less than before."
Additionally, examiners working for the pension office
state that he was about 5 feet 7 inches tall, 135 pounds,
had grey eyes, brown hair, and a dark complexion (there
was a common belief among some doctors that the prolonged
negative effects of inner city life actually led to a
darker complexion as one aged, additionally, Celtic people
in general were heavily caricatured in the media as simian-like
in appearance and nature). The same report also mentioned
his liver and spleen were working well, no evidence of
jaundice, conjunctiva clear, and that he bore no noticeable
signs of "vicious habits", despite his close
proximity to one of the largest concentrations of brothels
in the world. Vice, pertaining to venereal disease and
things like obvious hard drinking, was something the pension
office was always keen on determining, as it could render
an application null and void.
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Many
Civil War veterans (or their widows) applied for benefits
as the entire nation endured severe economic depression
throughout the decade following the war. These could
be difficult to obtain and some families went through
years of pension disputes while attempting to prove
the validity of various injuries incurred during wartime.
Precise records for things like battle wounds, malaria,
heat stroke, yellow fever, consumption, imprisonment,
and the long term effects of an assortment of other
possibilities, could be scant at best. Without being
an abject cripple or invalid, sometimes no documentation
existed, and many common diseases then had serious consequences.
Some soldiers, while in pretty bad shape, continued
fighting and marching. Those who survived didn't always
have much to look forward to once they returned home.
Within the post war ghettos of Manhattan Island things
could turn from bad to worse in the blink of an eye.
In comparison to today, accommodations in poor neighborhoods
regularly involved actual starvation, no clean water,
no plumbing, no sanitation, numerous devastating illness's,
a near total absence of medical care, no effective labor
laws, no welfare, no civil rights, higher homicide,
suicide, domestic abuse, and alcoholism rates, and essentially
a total lack of protection from the powers that be,
particularly regarding women and children. Though not
much definitive documentation exists, Malloy and his
family may have escaped the worst of these situations
found in the shantytowns. There are listings for him
working in 'shoemaking' (reportedly in a limited capacity
after the army and as he aged) and at various tenement
addresses over the years, but nothing is known about
day to day life for him or his clan.
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Members
of the 79th, from left to right: sergeant Robert
Gair, corporal Lawrence Beattie, and private George
Arnott. Gair, later captain Gair, lived to be 88.
He created a paper and paper-box empire with factories
located between the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges
(an area now known as "Dumbo", for Down
Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass). Hints of the
Scottish-born inventors' strong connection to New
York's industrial past can be seen incised in old
factory façades near the Brooklyn Bridge
today. A prominent figure throughout his life, his
buildings today are a mixture of residential, office,
and light industry. The critic Lewis Mumford wrote
''more than any other personality, except that of
Roebling, the creator of the Brooklyn Bridge, Robert
Gair symbolically dominates the Brooklyn waterfront.''
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Castle
Pickney, Charleston, S.C., one of the Civil Wars
first POW camps. Confederate Boy-Soldiers (Charleston
Zouave Cadets) Guarding Union Captives, 1861, Prisoners
From Bull Run (battle of first Manassas). Below:
among the prisoners then were the 79th N.Y. Highlanders,
the 69th N.Y Fighting Irish (the core regiment of
the Irish brigade), the 11th N.Y. Infantry's First
Fire Zouaves (members of the N.Y.C. Fire Department),
and the 8th Michigan Infantry (aptly referred to
as the "Wandering Regiment", due to its
service on many fronts).
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Close
up of Pickney residents from New York City. The
prisoners at this time were an intelligent bunch
and mutual respect from the guards was ongoing.
Strict order and sanitary conditions were also
maintained throughout their stay, and Pickney
never became a death camp, like so many others.
Above the doorway are two signs "No. 7"
(presumably a NYC fire company), and "Music
Hall 444 Broadway". The latter a popular
variety venue known as the "American Music
Hall", located in the heart of the old theater
district, just so many blocks from Five Points.
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Typically,
after their arrival on the West Side/Hell's Kitchen, people
like the Malloys, McDonalds, and Goodbaughs moved frequently
from address to address, in their case within a small
area. Like many others then, they owned nothing, ostensibly
going from place to place with the clothes on their backs
and perhaps a few small possessions. Under "head
of household" on the census sheets is a circuitous
listing of West Side addresses positioned within the southern
border of Hells Kitchen, (although West 34th Street is
the southern border of Hell's kitchen today, back then
it continued down to West 23rd Street, according to some
accounts as far south as West 14th Street was still within
its general domain) their known residences for 40 years
after arriving from Europe. According to army records,
Malloy eventually went completely blind as a result of
malaria. He died around 1899. Right around the time of
his death he began receiving a long debated increase to
$12 per month from his army pension, a small amount even
then. The paper trail disappears soon after.
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Early
photo of the 79th marching out of New York in ceremonial
garb.
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Maps
from the time illustrate a locale which is chock full
of buildings. The fire insurance maps alone show little
detail when pinpointing styles of buildings, and what
actual living conditions were from place to place. However,
from further investigation, a synthesis emerges which
indicates that there were remarkably sophisticated row
houses lining some streets of the West Side. But more
common were the dodgy, cheap and swiftly constructed tenements,
numerous back-tenements and outright shacks, all of which
had a propensity for becoming vermin infested, stench-filled
rookeries in various states of decay rather quickly. There
were clusters of commercial and industrial buildings,
and numerous drinking establishments and related haunts.
Collectively, it was a hodgepodge of residences and storefronts
all crammed together block-by-block, with large churches
and schools standing out in some places. Many written
accounts are peppered with extraordinary remarks regarding
vice, corruption, crime, violence, and endless outbreaks
of hostility comparable to that witnessed in some developing
countries today.
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Though
no doubt surrounded by some of the inner city commotion
and endless activity detailed above, at closer inspection
the obvious stately implications of the West Side townhouse
we were in the process of getting permission to dig behind
indicated its original occupants were sufficiently well-heeled
during the 1850s and 1860s. Built in 1851 it was connected
to a network of similar residences in the area. Like others,
it took a year to convince the developer to allow a full
exploration before plans to alter the property were underway.
One
year prior to the dig we met a Colombian man named Onofre,
who was in charge of gutting the entire house. The inside
revealed four open floors with only bare joists and related
framework showing. Along one wall ran a rickety switch-back
of makeshift stairs leading to the roof. There were exposed
red brick walls all around, recesses where fireplaces
had been, and clear signs of early plumbing installed
at some point. The front and rear still had their handmade
windows but that was about all that was left. On walk-boards
strategically placed across the open floor we headed to
the very back of the second story as a group of huddled
workers ate lunch. No doubt there was an endless supply
of tenements stretching in all directions when the place
was built, still plenty around today though many have
undergone major facelifts over the years. Onofre was replete
in his work and seemed to be taking an interest in our
mission, what he could understand of it anyway. Largely
deduced from a spirited disposition and a mishmash of
affirmative nods in our direction, in the final translation
it appeared we had a 50/50 chance of getting permission
from the actual owner.
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Originally
an upscale residence, built in 1851, after generations
of deterioration it is once again an upscale residence;
one worth more than a few million on today's market.
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However,
shortly thereafter on a phone call with the owner "That
garden's over 100 years old! It's famous! The neighborhood's
been written about in magazines and books. I'm not altering
a thing back there. Are you people nuts?!" Then 'click',
the line went dead before our pitch was complete. Goaded
by the tenacious spirit of the old West Side, we rang
again a few minutes later and did our best to explain
that a potential time capsule was probably hidden back
there somewhere. If they decided to dig out the yard (which
happens often) we would appreciate the chance to do our
job first. After all, it seemed plausible that anybody
in a position to drop 10 million on a newly renovated
townhouse would probably not recognize the magic of an
unkempt rose garden which had long ago devoured the entire
yard.
No matter how energetic or well intentioned a person is
by nature, being responsible for renovating an entire
four story home will usually keep them exceedingly busy
for some time. Thus, it took a dozen more visits, additional
phone calls, and unanswered emails, before we got the
message we needed in order to begin taking the dig seriously.
Twelve months after our first visit we heard "They're
ripping out the entire backyard next week!" With
no room for ambiguity and "you've got 2 days!"
we rearranged our schedules, assembled our gear, and rolled
headlong in the direction of the nearest subway.
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Ironically,
the 48 hours allotted were more than enough to thoroughly
investigate and reinvestigate, academically, forensically
or otherwise, the barely 6 inches of quasi night soil
remains which lightly coated one portion of the vault's
base. That was a common outcome in most other precincts
but on this block, in this neighborhood, we intrinsically
expected more.
Saliently, at just 2 feet below original yard level we
were seeing indications of abundant night soil remains
within the spaces between the wall stones. Nevertheless,
down 4 feet we began wondering when the sterile fill would
change. Entering the 6 foot mark we got pretty discouraged.
By 8 feet it looked decidedly grim. About 10 feet or so
the starkest
possibilities set in hard. From then on, except for intermittent
bouts of nihilistic muttering and the vaguely reassuring
clank of the pulley, things were pretty gloomy. Despite
the blatant evidence that it had once been filled much
higher than usual with tons of human waste, and no doubt
many discarded glass, pottery, and porcelain objects from
the occupants of the house, we had found nothing. At 5
½ feet in diameter it wasn't of mythical proportions,
but neither was it small. The material being hauled up
was somewhere between fine sand and unremarkable red dirt,
heavy, dull and dense. Oddly, no brickbats, stones, shards
or artifacts in sight, almost all 13 feet of the privy
were mysteriously barren.
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Site
of back-to-back 'wells' being
investigated on the old West Side.
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Beginning
at only 2 feet below original grade, and continuing
for the duration of the dig, abundant night soil
remains consistently appearing along the stone
wall.
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Here
we were at last, descending deeply between the gutted
remains of two great houses from a century and a half
earlier, no longer sidetracked by random curiosity seekers,
and the occasional dotty onlooker. The clock was ticking
and all the theories in the world weren't going to make
the situation any more rewarding from an historical digging
perspective.
The blue hour settled in and along with it a soporific
mood. By then the renovation workers from our building
were gone for the day. The mechanics from next door, the
ones renovating the other townhouse behind us, left us
a way to the street through their basement. Now, whenever
we had had enough all we had to do was head out through
their building, shut the work lights on the way, and fasten
the padlock to the door securely, as we had done earlier
in the season while investigating their well. Lights appeared
in the dining rooms of neighboring abodes as our cramped
test holes continued to come up completely sterile.
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Many
hours later, still nothing to show but unremarkable
red dirt
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Exhaust
fumes drifting over rooftops from nearby restaurants were
a tantalizing reminder of how long we'd been hauling buckets
without breaking for chow. Out of nowhere a buoyant voice
from below offset the edacious silence. One which had
to be addressed immediately as it was so contagious. "Wow!
Could this be puce?! Better get the headlights…I
can't see a thing down here."
Forthwith things became more invigorating as a teakettle
ink circa 1860-65, in mint condition, produced in dark
violet or black-amethyst glass, possibly of English or
French origin, was being handed back and forth for inspection.
Ferreted from near the privy floor, the exact likeness
never seen before, an enthusiastic investigation ensued
as the sky began to rumble.
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The
sun gone, energy shifts dramatically.
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Renewed
vigor and a dynamic stretch of night digging ensues.
A remarkable quantity of items, 1851-1865, emerge
from 13 feet below.
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A
number of intact bottles were subsequently discovered,
the majority of which were pontiled from the 1850s and
early 60s. One of the first was an eight sided desk ink:
HARRISON'S / COLUMBIAN / INK. Then a CLIREHUGH'S / TRICOPHEROUS
/ FOR THE HAIR & SKIN / NEW YORK. A brown and white
potlid with an eagle at the center atop a shield baring
stars and stripes, CHLORINE DETERGENT & ORRIS DENTIFICE
/ FOR / CLEANSING & PRESERVING / THE / TEETH / PREPARED
BY / ROYCE & ESTERLY / DENTAL SURGEONS. Soon after
we discovered a BARKER'S / CHEVEUX TONIQUE / FOR THE HAIR
/ BDWAY N. Y. At full arms length we were on the floor
for sure but from this one tiny portal came over a dozen
intact items within the first 20 minutes of burrowing.
It was looking as if the total absence
of debris in the fill had spared almost all the remaining
bottles, and a wraith or two might
be lingering after all. As a cloudburst commenced we decided
to leave something for the following day.
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The
following morning, ample light down in the hole,
and pontiled bottles galore.
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By
early next afternoon we were sifting through the dross
for the second time and dumfounded so many delicate items
managed to survive in such a small space. Like many others
the old vault had been rigorously dipped long ago in order
to supply the booming waste-generated fertilizer business,
and to help appease the mounting concerns for odor-generated
illnesses, allegedly emanating from backyards. At least
half of the floor was devoid of anything manmade. It had
been cleaned out soon after the arrival of modern plumbing.
The parts of 5 larger size porcelain dolls were being
collected, a few tableware shards, along with some chunks
to an ovoid crock with flashy cobalt design, and the bits
and pieces of a couple others. The incomplete bodies were
the decimated remains of what was at one time a phenomenally
packed privy.
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Back
of renovation early morning.
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Dig
completed and a few hours to spare of the allotted
'48'. A major property renovation was underway soon
after this photo was taken.
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There
were 9 pontiled aqua medicines with raised lettering,
mostly cosmetics for the hair and skin, an umbrella ink,
and others. Additionally, another potlid and matching
base, one clay pipe, one ivory toothbrush handle, a small
quantity of common food bones, and an assortment of fruit
and vegetable seeds sprinkled therein. Included in this
was another Clirehugh's Tricopherous and a Barker's Cheveux
Tonic; DR D. JAYNE'S / HAIR TONIC / PHILADA; BOGLE'S /
HYPERION FLUID / FOR THE HAR; HURD'S / HAIR RESTORER;
PHALON & SON / PERFUMERS, N. Y.; DR. D. C. KELLINGER
/ N. Y; ROUSSEL'S / UNRIVALED / PREMIUM / SHAVING CREAM…
/ X. BAZIN. / 114 Chestnut St / PHILADELPHIA. The earlier
base reads GOLD MEDALS AWARDED / E. ROUSSEL / 114 Chestnut
St / PHILADA / PERFUMER.
Incredibly, in those last few inches an unprecedented
47 bottles managed to survive. To date we have no idea
who actually lived in the house during the legendary days
of the old West Side, or what activities may have taken
place within its walls as the First Fire Zouaves, the
Fighting 69th, and the 79th advanced gallantly through
the streets. But another dig concluded and a compelling
journey through a provocative chapter in the not too distant
past. Slainte na Gaidheil ('Here's to the Highlanders').
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"79
N.Y. Cameron Rifles".
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References:
79th
NY Infantry Regiment Civil War. (n.d.). Retrieved from
New York State Military Museum and Veterans Research Center.
http://www.dmna.state.ny.us/historic/reghist/civil/infantry/79thInf/79thInfMain.htm
79th New York Volunteer Infantry. (n.d.). In Wikipedia.
Retrieved from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/79th_New_York_Volunteer_Infantry
Brazee, C.D. and Most, J.L. (2008). West Chelsea Historic
District Designation Report. New York: New York City Landmarks
Preservation Commission.
Clark,
A. (n.d.). Historical Photos: 79th New York State Militia.
Retrieved from http://www.pbase.com/aclark79/historical_photos
Cook,
R. (n.d.). 79th Uniform. Retrieved from http://celticpiper.net/79th.htm
High
Line, The. (n.d.) Retrieved from http://www.thehighline.org/about/high-line-history
High
Line, The. (n.d.) Retrieved from http://blog.thehighline.org/2008/06/02/history-video-narrated-by-ethan-hawke/
Miller,
B. (2000). Fat of the Land: Garbage in New York: The Last
Two Hundred Years. New York: Four Walls Eight Windows.
Matthew Dripps. (1867) Plan of New York City: from the
Battery to Spuyten Duyvil Creek - Plate 9 [Map].
Nellie
Bly. (n.d.) Retrieved from http://www.nelliebly.o/
O'Connor, Richard (1958). Hell's Kitchen: The Roaring
Days of New York's Wild West Side. Philadelphia: J.B.
Lippincott Company.
Pollan,
M. (2001). The Botany of Desire: A Plant's-Eye View of
the World. New York: Random House.
Sykes,
B. (2006). Saxons, Vikings, and Celts: The Genetic Roots
of Britain and Ireland. New York: Norton & Company.
Troiani,
D. (Artist). (2001). 79th New York State (Highlanders)
[Print]. Retrieved from http://www.talonsvcs.com/villagegallery/troiani/dt_highlander.htm#highlander.
William
Perris. (1857-1862). Maps of the City of New York: 1857-1862
- Plate 64 [Map].
Additional
research conducted at:
" The Municipal Archives at 31 Chambers ST. NY, NY
" The New York Public Library at Fifth Avenue and
42nd St.
" The New York Historical Society Library at 170
Central Park West at 77th St.
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