Many pieces of New York have been lost over the years – from the days before European settlers arrived through the more recent places we loved, the restaurants we knew and even the sports teams we lost to California, New Jersey and elsewhere. One of the lesser-known losses – as infamous and smelly as it was – is Barren Island, which was located on the southeast shore of Brooklyn, on the way to the beach at Jacob Riis Park. Some of its history can be found in the Municipal Archives – largely in late 19th century state and local Health Department investigations – and in the digital collection of images from the early 20th century.  

Historical records indicate that the Canarsee Native American tribe used what became known as Barren Island as a fishing outpost in the early 17th century and later “signed over” much of it to Dutch settlers. Largely unoccupied for many years, by the mid-19th century it had become a vast dumping ground where tons of waste and dead animals like horses, cattle, dogs, cats, rats and many other species from Brooklyn, Manhattan and The Bronx were rendered in several large factories on the island.The grease extracted from the waste yielded more than $10 million in profits annually.  

The residents, an ethnically diverse mix of blacks and poor European immigrants from Italy, Ireland and Poland, mostly worked in the factories and rendering plants, or service industries like grocery stores and bars. There also was a school, PS 120, and a church.  

The Island inhabitants apparently became accustomed to the odors and noxious fumes from the island’s incinerators, but people living in the rest of Brooklyn complained long and loud about the stench. Finally, in October 1890, Governor David Hill responded to complaints about the “nuisance” on Barren Island “which affected the security of life and health” throughout Brooklyn by ordering a State Health Department investigation. The report from that investigation, contained in the archives, noted that a rendering plant operated by Peter White’s Sons received the carcasses of all dead animals collected on the city’s streets. “On an average there are over two thousand hogs kept on the premises… and the dead animals are dismembered and boiled and oils extracted therefrom,” the report said, noting that the odors were carried along to Rockaway Beach and other neighborhoods, “rendering those inhabitants sick and destroying the comfort and enjoyment of their homes.” The report also noted that a fertilizer plant on the island received “large quantities of fish,” which were allowed to accumulate on loading docks. “The smells from those fish factories are so powerful that it is impossible to keep the doors or windows of dwelling houses open when the wind blows from the direction of Rockaway, and many persons have been made sick…” The report recommended that the factories take measures to contain the odors and that state health inspectors make regular visits.

The results were mixed at best. An 1896 report from the Brooklyn Department of Health – Brooklyn did not become part of New York City until 1898 – found that nuisances were still rife on the island five years after the state report. “This bureau, together with the sanitation bureau and the inspector of offensive trades has kept a close watch of the manufactories situated on Barren Island,” but noted that as long as rendering and fertilizer companies exist, there will be noxious odors and complaints. A subsequent inspection “found at the rendering plant dock three garbage scows, two of them being full and the other about half full… the plant is running night and day.” An inspection report for January 1896 found the carcasses of 21 dogs, 17 cats, 35 rats, along with numerous dead cattle, sheep and horses, which led to the naming of the nearby Dead Horse Bay. The City stopped dumping its garbage there in 1919. Complaints worsened in the early 20th century and the island’s population dwindled from a high of about 1,500 to several dozen by 1936, when City Parks Commissioner Robert Moses ordered the eviction of all residents as part of his plan to expand Marine Park. Before that happened, many of the buildings were abandoned and crumbling, as can be seen in 1930s-era photographs in the Archives.

The island eventually vanished as the city used landfill and tons of sand to connect it to the rest of Brooklyn. It later become the home of Floyd Bennet Field and eventually part of Gateway National Park area. Now, it is gone and largely forgotten – yet another piece of the lost New York.