Meat

From Marketfield to the Greenmarket, Part II: The Market Man

This is Part 2 of a series. Read Part 1

Thomas F. De Voe in his Jefferson Market butcher stall. Frontispiece to The Market Assistant, 1867. Robert Hinshelwood, from a sketch by T.F. De Voe. Courtesy New York Public Library.

From the earliest days of the Dutch colonial settlement, butchers were at the top of the market hierarchy and their profession was tightly regulated. By the 1800s, their status was signaled by their attire, as they had taken to wearing tall top hats and tails as part of their work outfit—a look that might be familiar from the character of “Bill the Butcher” in the film Gangs of New York. In the 1850s, a well-respected Jefferson Market butcher by the name of Thomas F. De Voe, by his telling, was searching for something to do in his leisure hours. An officer of the 8th Regiment with an interest in military history, he visited the New-York Historical Society and was “bitten by a rabid antiquary.”[1] Discovering the Records and Files of the Common Council [now held by the Municipal Archives] he realized that they contained a wealth of historical information about his profession. (In actuality, he may have been conducting research to better represent himself and other butchers in regulatory matters.)

Petition of Thomas F. De Voe, Butcher, 1854. Board of Alderman, Approved Papers. NYC Municipal Archives. De Voe petitioned the Committee on Markets in 1849 and again in 1854 detailing what he saw as actions by the Superintendent of Markets that undercut the value of his stall. He later had a printed version of his 1854 petition produced but the Market Committee files include his handwritten copy and pages of his testimony before the Boards of Aldermen and Councilmen of the City.

Encouraged by the Historical Society librarian to write a paper on the subject of markets, De Voe soon entered the circle of mid-19th century historians who were preserving the history of the City, including D.T. Valentine, Clerk of the City, and E.B. O’Callaghan, who was busy translating the Dutch records of New Amsterdam. After a well-received 1858 presentation of his paper at Cooper Union, De Voe published in 1862 The Market Book: Containing a historical account of the public markets of the cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Brooklyn with a brief description of every article of human food sold therein, the introduction of cattle in America, and notices of many remarkable specimens. For its time, it is a masterpiece of research. Drawing on his own experiences and using the writings of O’Callaghan and Adrian Van der Donck for Dutch history, and the records of the Common Council for colonial history, he detailed every bit of minutia on markets from the 1600s to the 1800s. The scholarly respect was mutual, as D.T. Valentine commissioned him to write a history of the “Old Fly Market Butchers” for his manual of 1868. Only volume 1 of the Market Book, on the public markets of New York, was published, but in 1866 De Voe published a paper Abattoirs and in 1867 he published The Market Assistant, containing a brief description of every article of human food sold in the public markets of the cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn including the various domestic and wild animals, poultry, game, fish, vegetables, fruits, &c., &c. with many curious incidents and anecdotes. It included several engravings from sketches by De Voe, including a frontispiece of the man himself in his shop.

The original Fulton Market buildings, Fulton Street and Market, 1828. George Hayward for D.T. Valentine’s Manual of 1854. NYC Municipal Library.

Petition for a new market at Fulton-Slip, 1821. Common Council Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Petition against the removal of the Fly Market, 1821. Common Council Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Catharine Market, 1850. George Hayward for D.T. Valentine’s Manual for 1857. NYC Municipal Library.

De Voe’s descriptions are rich in details not just of food but in character studies. One of his most-cited passages is his description of “dancing for eels” at the Catharine Market.[2] The Catharine Market started in the late 18th Century as a humble butcher shed. Later a fishmonger’s stall was added, but in 1799 a petition was submitted for “a new and enlarged market-house.”[3] The elegant market-house was finished the following year and it became known for its Sunday eel market and as an ethnic mixing place. In the waning days of slavery in New York, enslaved African Americans from towns in Long Island, on leave for holidays such as pinkster, would sell whatever they could gather at the Catharine Market. To make a few shillings more, they would sometimes dance on a thin board or “shingle” for coins or pieces of eel at the close of the market. As these dances became a more frequent tradition, competitors from New Jersey, after dropping the farmer’s produce at the westside Bear Market would hurry over to compete. After a time, free African American residents of Manhattan came to the market to dance as well, and “if money was not to be had ‘they would dance for a bunch of eels or fish.’”[4] This tradition of “dancing for eels,” with competitive dance circles that would be familiar to the modern eye, had a long-lasting influence on dance. A popular mid-century play New York As It Is included a minstrel Dancing for Eels scene, which in turn inspired several lithographs, further cementing it in American culture. Some scholars suggest that tap dance was born here at the Catharine Market from a mix of African and Irish dance traditions. Dance steps developed here can still be seen today in modern hip-hop styles.[5]

The Ground Plan of the Fourteen Markets of the City of New-York, July 1st, 1835. Common Council Market Committee, NYC Municipal Archives. The number of markets in New York City doubled in the early 19th Century, and two new large-scale markets appeared. The Fulton Market was established in 1822 to replace the old Fly Market, but a new market building (shown here) was built in the 1830s. Washington Market in Tribeca was erected in 1813, with expansions in the 1820s and 1834 making it the largest wholesale market in the City. These markets were joined by Grand Street, Greenwich, Gouverneur, Centre, Essex, Franklin, Manhattan, Clinton, Tompkins, and Jefferson Markets. The Monroe Market would replace the Grand Street in 1836, and the Harlem Market was established in 1838, although De Voe notes a butcher shed stood at 120th Street and Third Avenue since 1807.

In 1872 Thomas De Voe gave up his butcher stall to become Superintendent of Markets under the reform-minded comptroller Andrew Haswell Green. The following year he produced a Report upon the present condition of the public markets of the city and county of New York. His report to Green would present “historical incidents as regards the age of the present market buildings; their past mode of management or mismanagement…” in his typically colorful language. He detailed the thirteen markets then active in the City: Washington, West Washington, Fulton, Centre, Clinton, Catherine, Jefferson, Tompkins, Essex, Union, Gouvernour, Franklin, and the 18th Ward Market.[6]

View of Washington Market, Fulton and Washington Street, 1859. D.T. Valentine’s Manual, 1859. NYC Municipal Library.

De Voe first addressed the largest market, the Washington, located between Greenwich, Fulton, West and Vesey streets. De Voe found the state of the market to be “generally in bad order and very much out of repair…. The two-story building on Washington Street (which had formerly sustained the fire-bell in its tower) was imminently dangerous, being in a condition at any moment to fall in and crush all beneath.” Under the floors he found that “black stagnant mud, water, animal and vegetable putrefactions had become detrimental to health and life.” The market was overseen by three “worse-than-useless officials…” who De Voe fired and replaced with “two efficient men” who were able to seize unwholesome food and suspend cheating vendors. He also installed proper sewage, drainpipes and three hydrants to better fight fires and to flush away waste.[7]

New Fish Market, New York City, ca. 1869. Theo. R. Davis, retrieved from the Library of Congress. In 1869 the Fulton Fishmonger’s Association built a new waterfront market opposite the existing Fulton Market where boats could unload their catches directly into the market.

De Voe found similar levels of disrepair and corruption throughout the markets and seems to have attacked the problems with a reformer’s zeal. Catharine Market, once charming, was long neglected and had large holes in the roof. He fixed the holes but stated whenever he looked at the “rusty fronts, roofs and side, their framed windows, doors and other woodwork, I can imagine that I can hear or feel grating on my senses the sound paint! paint!!—paint me!!!”[8] The Jefferson Market, De Voe’s former place of business, was similarly distressed, but work was already underway on the courthouse that would replace it.

Pushcart peddlers in the Lower East Side, ca. 1890. Hand-colored glass lantern slide. Department of Street Cleaning collection, NYC Municipal Archives. After the Civil War, the population of New York increased dramatically, putting enormous stress on the existing markets. As always happened, unlicensed vendors filled both a commercial need and a desire for the ethnic foods of immigrants.

More generally De Voe was concerned with the quality of food coming into the city, especially animals that had been distressed before slaughter or improperly killed. In 1866 the New York State Legislature had created the Metropolitan Board of Health. One of their first targets were outdated market regulations, particularly with regards to butchers and slaughterhouses.[9] Animal slaughtering and processing had already so polluted the Collect Pond that it was drained and filled with landfill in 1811, but the carting of offal and animal hides across town to the candle makers or tanneries was a source of increasing complaints as the more fashionable residents of the city pushed uptown. De Voe worked with the Board of Health to seize animals or meat not fit for market. The markets themselves and the surrounding unlicensed vendors also presented an enormous daily challenge to street cleaning. Numerous 19th Century laws tried to tackle the issue, such as requiring vendors to keep a trash bin at their stalls.

De Voe also called for more oversight to protect the public from “improper and unwholesome” food, better market buildings, and a reining in of unlicensed stalls and pushcarts. Pushcart vendors first appeared on Hester Street in 1866, setting up informal markets. The problem of pushcarts would only grow in the 20th century, with new waves of immigration, to the consternation of a succession of mayors.

De Voe was removed as superintendent in 1876 but reappointed in 1881. He finally retired from City service in 1883, but he continued to lecture on New York history and published a book on the genealogy of the Devaux family. When he died in 1892 the New York Times called him “one of the best known of the old New-Yorkers.”[10]

After De Voe’s retirement, the enormous open-air Gansevoort Market was officially sanctioned in 1884, and in 1889 the City built a new West Washington Market building to replace older buildings used for meat, poultry and dairy. By 1900 the area housed over 250 slaughterhouses and packing plants, earning the name the Meat Packing District.

Photograph showing a portion of the present Gansevoort and West Washington Market, ca. 1912. Brief and Plans for a New West Washington and Gansevoort Market. NYC Municipal Library. In the mid-1800s, meat and produce increasingly came into the city through freight trains and ships. In 1854 a freight depot had opened at Gansevoort and West Streets, and many vendors from the old Washington Market set up stalls near the depot.

In Brooklyn, an informal farmers market that gathered near the Navy Yard consisted of some rough sheds by 1884. The City of Brooklyn decided to grace this market with grand market halls and a prominent clock tower designed in the Dutch Colonial Revival style by William Tubby, who had just completed several buildings for the Pratt Institute. Wallabout Market, looking like a fairy-tale village, was completed in 1896, one of the last hurrahs of the independent City of Brooklyn before the consolidation of 1898. That consolidation and the increasing needs of a growing city would change the ways the City dealt with markets. However, it would be well into the 20th Century for the City to finally implement many of the market reforms that De Voe had called for.

Wallabout Market, 1896. Retrieved from the Library of Congress.

Part III coming soon.


  • [1] De Voe, Thomas F. The Market Book, 1862.

  • [2] Ibid, pp. 344-345.

  • [3] Ibid, p. 342

  • [4] Ibid, p. 344-345.

  • [5] Lhamon, W.T., Raising Cain: Blackface Performance from Jim Crow to Hip Hop, 2002.

  • [6] De Voe, Thomas F., Report upon the present condition of the public markets of the city and county of New York, 1873.

  • [7] Ibid, pp. 4-5

  • [8] Ibid, p. 15.

  • [9] Day, Jared N., Butchers, Tanners, and Tallow Chandlers: The Geography of Slaughtering in Early Nineteenth-Century New York City.

  • [10] New York Times Obituary, Thomas F. De Voe, February 2, 1892.

Meatless Tuesdays

In somewhat of a hectoring October 11, 1942 radio address in which he addressed scrap metal collection, tin can collection, food prices and gambling, among other topics, Mayor LaGuardia officially kicked off Meatless Tuesdays.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“There has been a great deal of talk about a meatless day. Let’s have less talk about this and let’s do something about it.… I now officially request hotels, restaurants and all eating places to make Tuesday the meatless day, and, of course, in the homes we will follow that too and then we’ll have a real saving in meat.”

In a game attempt to ward off resistance, he tackled the notion that Friday should be the official meatless day. “Now all this talk about having Friday as a meatless day really doesn’t sound as if it were on the level. Friday is a traditional fish day and to make Friday your official meatless day sort of smacks of the slicker, doesn’t it? Now let’s do things real here in New York City. We don’t want to be hypocritical about this, let us give the example to the rest of the country.”

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Sounds simple. Fish Fridays. Meatless Tuesdays. But quickly there were requests for clarification—what was considered meat? There were complaints. And there was pushback.

First up on October 13, 1942: Harry Spector, from the Latin Quarter “would like some clarification on the Mayor’s Sunday speech… they of course want to cooperate to the fullest extent and want to know whether the Mayor wishes to include veal, lamb, poultry, etc. since they were under the impression that the shortage was merely with beef.”

On October 14th an anonymous restaurant owner wanted to know if Meatless Tuesdays includes poultry (chicken, ducks) as well as liver?

The President of Nedicks weighed in. The hotdog purveyor wrote that the company employed 1000 New Yorkers and sold four tons of frankfurters daily in the City. He was not pleased and suggested that the Mayor must not have meant to include the humble hot dog in Meatless Tuesdays.

The October 14th New York Mirror reported that representatives from the hotel and restaurant industries met with the Secretary of Agriculture. The Herald Tribune reported that the Department of Agriculture was not sponsoring meatless days. Meatless days, such as those in New York City were considered voluntary.

To clarify, the Mayor said hot dog and hamburger stands were part of the Meatless Tuesday effort and sent letters informing business owners they could serve fish, poultry, liver, kidneys, sweetbreads and heart on Tuesdays. Sausage was not permitted.

The clarification apparently proved insufficient because the Mayor addressed the proposed meatless days in the next two radio shows. On October 18, a week after the initial announcement, LaGuardia devoted a good portion of the radio address to meat rationing. Declaiming that the Secretary of Agriculture was enthusiastic about the hotel/restaurant response, the Mayor said, “We again are setting the pace for the rest of the country.”

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Claiming that the listening public would be happy about the splendid response to the Meatless Tuesday appeal, the Mayor offered additional clarification on the hot dog situation. He had conferred with the Quartermaster General for the Army who reported that frankfurters “are served as meat in Army messes at least three times a month.” That led to somewhat of a compromise. Nedicks would not serve hamburgers on the meatless days. Stores that only sold hamburgers would do their best to substitute foods. Delicatessens were instructed “not to serve any of the meats that are now under ration on Tuesday. There is such a variety of things, Mr. Delicatessen Store Keeper, that you can serve on Tuesday, that I’m sure you will not feel the difference.”

He went on to provide details on the quantity of meat required by the armed forces (6.5 billion pounds) and civilians (21 billion pounds) for the year compared to the estimated meat production (24 billion pounds). The 3.5 billion pound deficit in meat production needed to be addressed. “In order to do this the formula is to ration meat, but all the necessary preliminary arrangements and the printing of the coupons cannot possibly be completed before January 1st. If we permit these 10 weeks to go by without doing anything about it, then the amount originally intended to be rationed must be reduced, and therefore, our government calls upon us voluntarily to put into action now the same formula that we will be required to meet when the rationing preparations are completed. Do I make that clear? We must reduce the amount and in order to reduce the amount, the meat must be rationed, but we cannot get our ration coupons until around January 1st.

Under the wartime rationing program that began six months later, adults would be allocated 2.5 pounds of meat weekly, children over age 6 would receive 1.5 pounds while those under age 6 would receive ¾ of a pound. Concerned that New Yorkers would complain about the quantities, the Mayor said, “Please don’t get the idea that this is a great sacrifice. Our formula allows 40 ounces per week for each adult. Britain has but 30 ounces per week, Italy 3 ½ to 4 ½ ounces per week, Holland 9 ounces per week, Belgium 5 ounces per week, Germany 5 ounces per week. You see, that after all, we haven’t very much of a cut to make and if properly managed, and with the meat not included in the rationed amount it is no effort at all to comply.”

And so began the compulsory voluntary Meatless Tuesday program.

The Association of Food Shop Owners pledged to recommend to all 152 member diners “that they comply voluntarily and concienciously (sic)” with the request for the duration of the war.

There were protests, to be sure. One mother of two enlisted sons wrote from Islip to urge that Friday’s be the meatless day, noting that Catholics were making a double sacrifice, “just as so many mothers have to sacrifice their sons while others are working in defense plants and getting deferred month after month.” Never mind that as an Islip resident she was not a bound by City’s program.

Catholics complained of discrimination for being required to forego meat twice weekly—three times during Lent. Kosher butchers complained that Tuesday was among their busiest days so a voluntary prohibition on sales was problematic. They suggested meatless Saturdays and Sundays.

The Daily News queried “What’s Happening to Our Democracy” in an editorial opposing meatless Tuesdays. Noting that this was not required by any law or regulation from the nation, city or state, it complained that “the Mayor pulled the notion out of his hat.” Instead the paper suggested that this be postponed until the enactment of uniform national regulations. “National meatless day regulations would produce real meat conservation; isolated local fish-and-chips gestures cannot.” The editorial also weighed in on Friday being a better day to go meatless due to the large Catholic population who would be deprived of meat twice weekly.

A letter to the Mayor from the proprietor of Prentzel and Arne, a meat broker and self-proclaimed “meat man,” wrote “it is rather interesting to me that I now find myself defending you in a meat matter, whereas in the past I have so often been in active opposition to some of your views pertaining to meat matters, i.e. grading.” The attachment to the letter, which was intended as a response to The Daily News, discussed issues with the distribution/transportation of meat and continued, “Now getting back to the “Meat” of your editorial, New York is the largest population center in the U.S. and a start here, if successful in voluntary rationing, should have considerable influence on the rest of the country.”

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Department of Sanitation, which operated an employee cafeteria at its main 125 Worth Street office published a menu listing roast lamb with two vegetables for forty cents and a roast beef sandwich for twenty cents. A note at the bottom of the mimeographed menu stated, “In cooperation with the Mayor’s request—no meat will be served on Tuesdays—starting with Tuesday—October 20th, 1942. The files also contain a communique from the Commissioner of the Department of Corrections titled Dried Beans, Peas, Lentils, and Peanuts. It included recipes for bean loaf, bean soufflé, bean croquette, rice and lentil loaf. Another Corrections handout included cheese and egg recipes along with “timely suggestions” for stretching meat.

Not everyone was upset. One radio listener wrote that he thought it was “swell.”

The associate editor of The American Vegetarian sent the Mayor a copy of the paper and offered to have a staffer walk around with a sandwich board stating

Observe Meatless Days

Learn how by reading the

AMERICAN VEGETARIAN

Ask man for copy—10 cents

In his October 25 radio address, after discussing the prior week’s air raid drill, the Mayor returned to the topic of Meatless Tuesday. “Meatless Tuesday last week was most successful and attracted the admiration of the entire country. Citizens in other cities are asking why they can’t do as much. Oh, there’s been a little undercurrent around among certain individuals who are more anxious to sell meat and get big prices than they are to help the government. I’m not going to mention any names. I just want to say that the government expects full and complete cooperation.”

A letter from the Society of Restauranteurs informed the Mayor that the Governor of California designated Meatless Tuesdays for the duration of the war. A Connecticut official sent a telegram asking for information and the Mayor instructed Secretary Lester Stone to provide the full data.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Many people wrote the Mayor to report on stores and restaurants serving meat on Tuesdays. Someone reported the Hotel Taft restaurants were violating the ban. A note in the call folder instructs staff to call representatives from the Hotel Association. “Tell them to tell the Taft that they better obey the “Meatless Tuesdays” or else, violations, etc. Apparently the message got through because the Taft Hotel Manager wrote to assure the Mayor’s secretary of their cooperation and included menus showing the Meatless Tuesday offerings.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Ladies Club of the Kingslawn United Presbyterian Church wrote the Mayor for his opinion on whether their annual dinner scheduled for a Tuesday, for which tickets had been sold and food ordered should go ahead. The Mayor granted a dispensation for the annual dinner and suggested that the attendees should “refrain from eating meat on Wednesday” to compensate.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Interborough Delicatessen Dealers Association, based in Brooklyn resolved to close their Kosher Delicatessens on Tuesdays. Their attorney wrote to the Mayor that only two or three of the three hundred stores still opened on Tuesdays. This had led to picketing at one of the offending stores in Brooklyn. And, in turn, that led to the arrest of six picketers and an eventual review by The Police Commissioner of the City, Lewis Valentine.

By early November, Mayor LaGuardia’s exasperation with New Yorkers is evidenced in his reply to the proprietor of Ruppel’s Market in Elmhurst. “So many people have sent in letters suggesting different days of the week for a meatless day that were each of these letters taken into consideration, there would be no meatless day or every day would be a meatless day.”

LaGuardia’s attempt to quash demands for meatless Fridays fell flat. For the duration of the meatless days between October 1942 and September 1945, he received extensive pushback, particularly from Catholics. In 1943, the City Council enacted a bill to name either Wednesday or Friday the meatless day in order to spare Catholics from three meatless days. Each Holy Name Society in the Diocese of Brooklyn was asked to communicate with the Mayor to encourage him to sign the bill into law. The Mayor was unmoved, responding to the letter-writers that he had consulted the “highest Ecclesiastical officials” in setting meatless day on Tuesday. Despite the Council’s efforts, Meatless Tuesdays continued.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In March, 1943, as LaGuardia had foretold six months earlier, the shortfall in meat production led to the national rationing of meat. The federal Office of Price Administration officially began issuing ration stamps for meat. Each family was required to register its size in order to obtain the appropriate quantity of ration stamps. To purchase meat, or other rationed products, the buyer presented the required number of stamps for the item which qualified the person to pay the asking price for it. Stamps were distributed on a monthly basis and were required to be used within the month.

The federal rationing program altered the City’s enforcement approach. In response to a letter from an attorney who reported roast beef sandwiches were being served at a restaurant, the Mayor replied that after the rationing system was deployed the City no longer required restaurants to comply with meatless Tuesdays. He went on to note, ‘the better number of restaurants have voluntarily continued their program of not serving meat on this day.”

There is a gap in the Meatless Tuesday files between mid-1943 and January 1945 presumably because the rationing program was functioning. But, on January 21, 1945 the Mayor again addressed WNYC radio listeners and noted the shortage of meat because the “Army needs more and the Army is going to get all that it needs.” He announced the only way to deal with the shortage was to return to the official meatless days in the City. And this time, there were to be two meatless days—Tuesday and Friday, beginning the next week. The Mayor listed ten restaurant associations and six food chains with which he had conferred, including the Café Owners Guild that operated night clubs, and praised all of them for being helpful. He then focused on un-named steak houses, calling them chiselers who “cater to the sort of gluttons and loud mouths, and fellows who are earning the big money now, who go there and brag about eating meat, black market meat, and paying $4 and $6 for a steak.” And he promised a crackdown in cooperation of the Office of Price Administration.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In his radio address the next week, he tackled subjects that had bedeviled the initial roll out in 1942: hot dogs and poultry. “Tuesdays and Fridays are meatless days, and it means just that—meatless days—no meat or any meat that comes from four-legged animals. Nothing coming from a four-legged animal should be used on Tuesdays of Fridays. That means poultry, turkey, fish and game may be used… For the present we will compromise on frankfurters-dogs you know- on Tuesdays and Fridays.” The unstated compromise was that hot dogs were okay. The Mayor also ordered butcher shops to close on Mondays (Saturdays for Kosher shops) and to only operate five days a week. Enforcement was initially to be undertaken by the various restaurant and hotel associations. But, the OPA and City’s Department of Markets also were engaged in these efforts.

This go-round the Mayor’s Office forwarded all correspondence questioning what could be served to the Department of Markets. Was corn beef hash legit? Could liver be banned on Meatless Tuesdays? Could White Castle operate on the meatless days? Reporters from Room 9 (the press room) asked about the status of liverwurst. And more. New Yorkers’ reports of meat being served meatless days—Gramercy Tavern, Danbe’s Steakhouse, Tessie’s Old Vienna, Civic Square Foods (not very civic minded—all were referred to Commissioner Henry Brundage at Markets.

Reliably, the Catholics again wrote to urge Meatless Wednesdays, not Tuesdays. But that did not gain much traction.

World War II ended on September 2, 1945 as did the rationing of meat and other products. On September 16, Mayor LaGuardia went on the air to announce the end of the Meatless Days and praise the reputable hotels and restaurants for their cooperation during the crisis.