A Spanish-American War Mystery

For Veterans’ Day, we are highlighting an interesting group of glass lantern slides from the Queens Borough President collection. The slides are mostly scenes of soldiers working, relaxing, and playing at an army camp in a rural setting. In our online gallery they are simply listed as “Twenty-four views of mobilization camp or state militia camp, probably in Virginia, before or during Spanish-American War, ca. 1896-1898.” Why these images are in a collection of photographs created by the Queens Borough President Topographic Bureau was a complete mystery.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Initially, we surmised the images might be from Camp Wikoff, a quarantine camp established in Montauk, Long Island for troops returning from Cuba. As noted in a previous blog, disease, including typhoid, and yellow fever were endemic in Cuba, claiming the lives of more soldiers than died in battle. Concerned about spreading an epidemic in the United States, the army established Camp Wikoff to quarantine troops for several months before mustering out. The photographs of Camp Wikoff available online show a similar arrangement of tents and temporary wooden structures, but the Montauk site was barren, while our slides have a number of large trees in the background. In addition, two slides show troops in a downtown area with brick buildings. In one of these, soldiers pause in front of a pawn shop, behind them soldiers sit on the ledge of a building advertising “Fitzgerald-Photographer” and “S.N. Campbell-Sup’t-The Life Insurance Co. of Virginia.”

Soldiers in front of a pawn shop, possibly in Falls Church, Va., 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

This is where the Virginia reference originated, but what were these images doing in the Queens collection? Looking at the original slides for more information yielded another clue. Glass lantern slides were made by projecting an original glass negative at another piece of glass coated with photographic emulsion. Once developed, the result would be a positive image. To protect the image from dust and fingerprints during projection, the emulsion was sandwiched between another piece of glass, often with a paper mask curved at the top edges. Sometimes these are generic, but in this case, we were lucky as the paper mask was decorative and personalized with the name “Jas. T. Chapman, Flushing, L.I.”

Soldiers blanket tossing at Camp Meade, Pa. 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Here was a Queens connection. But what was James T. Chapman of Flushing doing in Virginia and how did his photographs end up in this collection? Searches on Ancestry and in Queens City directories yielded a James Treadwell Chapman, listed variously as a clerk, or secretary, who died in 1901 of kidney disease. The personalized slide frames suggested a professional photographer or serious amateur, but no photographer by the name of Chapman was listed in the directories. However, as we discussed in a previous blog, camera clubs were very active in New York in the 1880 and ‘90s, and lantern slides were a common way for members to share their work at meetings. Chapman was not listed as a member of the New York Camera Club, but numerous other clubs existed in New York, including the Society of Amateur Photographers. Both clubs had regular “lantern slide test” nights when amateurs could project slides for review, and clubs exchanged slides with clubs in other cities, including those in Europe and Australia. Chapman was probably a sufficiently serious amateur that he had personalized frames made to ensure his slides would be returned to him after such exchanges.

Soldiers from Flushing at Camp Meade, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Another search in the Queens Borough President collection for “Chapman” revealed an additional image, from a small group of prints labeled “Chapman collection.” BPQ_03133-f shows a group of soldiers around an L sign. It is captioned: “Spanish-American War, Soldiers from Flushing at Camp Meade, 1898.”

Camp Meade was established in August 1898, near Middletown, Pennsylvania, as a replacement for Camp Alger in northern Virginia, which was overrun with a typhoid fever epidemic. Camp Alger and Camp Meade were very much in the New York news in 1898, with the New York Times proclaiming on August 20, 1898: “Camp Meade Filling up; Thirty Thousand Men Are Expected in Ten Days and More Ground is Needed. Third New York’s Sick List Twelve Per Cent. of Its Men Confined to Their Quarters…” The article detailed recent deaths and the efforts to muster out troops scheduled to leave service. Adjunct General Tilinghast gave a press conference at the Waldorf-Astoria after returning to New York from a meeting with the Secretary of War, where he requested that “troops who had seen actual service, and those who have been in camp in localities where fever is prevalent, and those who for commercial reasons are most needed at home should be mustered out first.” He also mentioned that the 201st, the 202nd, and the 203rd NY regiments wished to remain in service. “These regiments are composed of very loyal men, who desire to remain soldiers as long as possible.”

African-American troops, 1898. The War Department encouraged recruitment of Black regiments as they believed they would be immune to tropical diseases such as yellow fever. This may be the 9th Ohio Battalion, a segregated battalion of the Ohio National Guard led by Charles Young, which was stationed at Camp Alger and Camp Meade. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers playing basketball at Camp Meade, 1898. Basketball, which was developed in 1891, was already popular by 1898, but the backboard was not introduced until 1906. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Families visiting soldiers at Camp Meade, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Times followed up on August 26th with an article “Review by the President, Troops at Camp Meade will March Past Him Tomorrow.” And on September 13th, they wrote that the “Third New York Quits Camp Meade.” However, on October 5th they published a new article, “Sick New York Troops at Camp Meade.” They reported that “Major Shakespeare of Philadelphia is making a study of the outbreak of typhoid among the New York regiments at Camp Meade…. The Two Hundred and Third New York has 400 cases of typhoid fever and is still isolated in the Conewago Hills, eight miles from the other troops.” The Surgeon General’s commission, which also included Major Walter Reed, eventually produced a “Report on the Origin and Spread of Typhoid Fever in U.S. Military Camps During the Spanish War of 1898.” At 2600 pages long, it was a landmark in modern medicine and led to reforms throughout the Army and national medical systems. The 203rd would remain in additional quarantine until November 12, 1898, when they left for a winter encampment in South Carolina. By November 18th, the Times reported “Camp Meade Now Wholly Deserted.” On December 10, 1898, the Spanish-American War ended with the Treaty of Paris and the 203rd never saw foreign service.

Soldiers at Camp Meade, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives. On the back of the print, James W. Chapman is listed as 3rd from left, but it is unclear if that is standing or the leftmost seated figure.

One more thing, on October 29th, while the 203rd was still quarantined at Conewago, a young corporeal from Company F of Flushing, New York was promoted to sergeant. His name was James W. Chapman, James T. Chapman’s 21-year-old son. It seems that Chapman was able to visit his son at least once and take these photographs of the camp, and it is likely that the views of the downtown area are from Falls Church, Virginia when they were at Camp Alger earlier in the year. How these images came to be in the Queens Borough President’s collection is still a mystery, but there is another clue. Image 3133-k is entitled “Flushing Village Trustees – 1887” and with the print there is a typed slip of paper identifying the trustees, including one James Chapman.

Flushing Village Trustees Outing near the Flushing Water Works Station, 1887. James Chapman is listed as #7 in the back row, but that position is open to interpretation. Photographer unknown, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

George Washington Centennial, Civic and Industrial Parade, April 29-May 1, 1889. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

There are no other references to the “Chapman Collection” amongst the negatives, although at least one glass negative in the collection is a view duplicated in one of his lantern slides of the 1889 Washington Centennial parade. (An April 1889 NY Times article revealed that members of the Society of Amateur Photographers were stocking up on plates to photograph the centennial). In the 35 lantern slides we can positively identify as Chapman’s there are a few other lovely images, some of which have appeared before in For the Record. A couple of his images are hand tinted. Many of his images have a military connection, including a series of plates showing the parade for Admiral Dewey after his 1899 return from the Philippines.

From the events depicted, we can tell that Chapman was active as a photographer from at least 1889 to 1899. As a relatively prominent figure in Flushing, he may have had dealings with the Borough President’s office, which formed in 1898 with the consolidation of the boroughs. Perhaps after Chapman’s untimely death at age 48 in 1901 they were donated by his family. He had nine children, including his eldest son James, who not only survived the typhoid pandemics at Camp Alger and Camp Meade, he lived another 80 years, dying in the 1970s.

Calvary troops in formation near the Washington Bridge, probably preparing for the Admiral Dewey Parade, September 30, 1899. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Admiral Dewey Parade, September 30, 1899. Admiral Dewey in cockaded tricorn salutes crowd. Mayor Van Wyck in top hat seated by him. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

West Point cadets, 7th Regiment marching in Admiral Dewey Parade, September 30, 1899. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Hand-tinted lantern slide of a bicyclist in the woods, ca. 1890s. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives. The bicycle fad and amateur photography developed simultaneously in the late 1800s.

A family at a Queens beach cottage, ca. 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Uniting the Boroughs: The Triborough Bridge

In late October 2023, the Department of Records and Information Services and the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority opened a new exhibit: “Uniting the Boroughs, The TriBorough Bridge.” Consisting of images from the archives at both agencies, the exhibit showcases the twenty-year project to build the bridge.

Tri Boro Bridge model, chief and commissioner, February 4, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Edward A. Byrne the chief engineer of the Bridges Department of the New York City Department of Plant and Structures (DPS) initially proposed the bridge in 1916. The bridge was supposed to connect rapid transit lines between the boroughs and “provide for vehicular and pedestrian traffic as well as for a double track surface railway.” It was a very ambitious engineering feat with multiple types of bridges: a suspension bridge over the East River; a cantilever span at Hells Gate Channel; and a draw bridge between Randall’s Island and Manhattan’s 125th Street with “the opening for navigation purposes…made by a lift span instead of swing span.” The cost for the entire structure, including labor and materials was estimated at $10.5 million.

Figures in the DPS 1916 annual report showed that 9,858 vehicles crossed the Queensborough Bridge during the “daily count.” By 1922, this Daily Peak Load had increased to 14,638 vehicles. Additionally, on average, 942 daily passengers traveled by ferry between the Bronx and Queens and 4,629 passengers took ferries from Queens to Manhattan, daily.

Some saw the bridge as a panacea that would improve living conditions in the City.  A 1924 article in the Harlem Board of Commerce journal reports several advantages:

“It is one of the solutions to the traffic conditions that are today conceded to be one of the city’s most serious problems.

It would materially assist in bringing to an end the present housing shortage by developing large areas…

It would enable the farmers of long Island to bring their produce to the consumer in less time and at less cost than is possible at present.”

The proposal languished until 1927 when the Board of Estimate appropriated $150,000 to conduct surveys and borings for the bridge which it was hoped would reduce traffic congestion. DPS Commissioner Albert Goldman explained the reasoning for selecting 125th Street in Manhattan as the terminus for that borough. It was “the first street north of 59th Street that might be considered a river to river highway. Central Park divides the Borough of Manhattan, north and south, between 59th Street and 110th Street and between these streets in the park there are a few narrow winding transverse roads quite inadequate for present day vehicular traffic.” The estimated cost for the entire 17-mile connection had increased to $24,625,000.

Tri Boro Bridge, views of buildings for condemnation, Astoria: 2705 Hoyt Avenue, January 9, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Tri Boro Bridge, views of buildings for condemnation, Astoria: Hoyt Avenue number 2907 and 2905, March 6, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Tri Boro Bridge, views of buildings for condemnation; 2472 to 2466 24th Street front, November 11, 1930. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In June 1929, the Board of Estimate allocated $3 million to begin work on the bridge and the City began soliciting bids and identifying property to condemn, with the hope that construction would be completed within four years. A ground-breaking ceremony was held in Astoria Park on Friday, October 25, 1929, a date known widely as “Black Friday,” the day the stock market crashed, beginning the Great Depression. Before the consequences of Black Friday became clear, the Queens Chamber of Commerce enthusiastically celebrated the project’s launch as marking “an epoch in the history of the borough comparable to the breaking of ground for the Queensboro Bridge on July 19, 1901, and the inauguration of rapid transit operation in the borough in 1915.”

As late as February, 1930 optimism prevailed. “Work on Tri-borough Bridge Progressing Rapidly” a Harlem Magazine headline trumpeted. They reported that foundation work on Wards Island was underway and forecast breaking ground on the Harlem portion in May, 1930. Instead, construction stalled again.

Tri Boro Bridge Wards Island showing steel construction and piers, December 1, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Tri Boro Bridge party of engineers on inspection, December 19, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

By March 1933, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt took office, there were 13 million unemployed Americans. The financial and banking sectors had ground to a halt. Manufacturing of all types had slowed considerably. Roosevelt announced an ambitious agenda to get America working again. In the first 100 days of his administration, banking reforms were initiated and public works programs were funded to build infrastructure and put people to work. One of the most important was the Public Works Administration (PWA) which directly funded the construction of roads, bridges, tunnels and subways to the tune of $4 billion during the course of its existence—the equivalent of just over $113 billion today. This included $44 million in grants and loans for the Triborough Bridge. The PWA was headed by Roosevelt’s Secretary of the Interior and good friend, Harold Ickes.

Tri Boro Bridge showing anchorage and masonry, February 9, 1932. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1933, the President’s ally, New York State Governor Herbert H. Lehman issued a message in support of legislation to create a three-member Triborough Bridge Authority (TBA) to oversee construction. He noted, “The completion of the Triborough Bridge is regarded as one of the most important public works in this state. It is of vital interest to the City of New York, and, in fact, to the entire metropolitan district.” The bridge was to be a “self-liquidating project,” meaning that when the costs were recovered, tolls would cease. As drivers today can attest, that was not to be the case.

In January, 1934, Fiorello LaGuardia took office as Mayor of New York City. He embraced the New Deal programs and City projects quickly received federal funding. The three-person TBA included the City’s Parks Commissioner, Robert Moses who was known for making things happen. LaGuardia made Moses the Executive Director. The TBA applied for funding and the PWA awarded $9 million in direct funding and a $35million loan for the bridge. Construction resumed. People were working. The project was said to have involved “600 manufacturing plants in thirty states….” providing “2,000,000 cubic yards of concrete. Ninety-one thousand tons of steel and iron products were produced in the mills and shops of thirteen states more than 200 contractors, who at times gave work to 3,000 men on the project were employed,” according to engineer Othmar H. Amann. And then... drama!

Surprisingly, in 1934 Moses challenged Lehman in the State’s race for Governor. During the course of the campaign, Moses heaped abuse on the New Deal programs and called its supporters frauds. Lehman trounced Moses who returned to his roles at the TBA and the Parks Department. The challenge to Lehman and the comments about the New Deal programs had infuriated the President.

Tri Boro Bridge Astoria Park view showing sign: anchorage, March 16, 1932. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In January, 1935 PWA head Ickes issued an Administrative Order that prohibited PWA funding to municipalities that had recipient organizations headed by people employed elsewhere in municipal government. The order threatened $300 million for a variety of public works projects in New York City. Ostensibly an effort to reduce cronyism, this was seen as an attempt to get back at Moses. It was widely reported that the Order only applied to two people:  Moses and the Tenement House Commissioner, Langdon W. Post. The Mayor attempted to follow the order but Moses would not relinquish either of his positions. When asked about how the order would affect Post, the New York Times reports the Mayor said, “At least Post is on the high seas, and he can’t issue any statements… His answer was construed as a slap at Mr. Moses for bringing the dispute into the open after the Mayor had sought to cover it over with the declaration that no friction existed.”

Moses wouldn’t leave and eventually Mayor LaGuardia and the President resolved the dispute making the order applicable to individuals appointed after it was issued, thus preserving both Moses and Post in their positions. But, this did not reduce the acrimony between the President and Parks Commissioner Moses. In April 1935, Ickes inspected the Triborough Bridge construction, “accompanied by representatives of the Parks Department and the Triborough Bridge Authority, but Robert Moses, whose ousting from the Authority was sought so vigorously for several months last Winter by Mr. Ickes, was not among them,” the Times reported. As late as October 1935, Moses was attacking the New Deal policies in the Saturday Evening Post.

Triborough Bridge construction, Randall’s Island, February 10, 1936. Triborough Bridge & Tunnel Authority Archive.

The project employed thousands of workers and work continued around the clock. “The project makes light of any obstacle in its path. City blocks vanish. Narrow streets are widened as if a titanic wedge were hammered through them between their confining house walls. Creeks surrender to concrete arches. Piers rise for a approaches to bridges that will set arms of the sea at naught, even deadly Hell Gate, wrote reporter L. H. Robbins. 

Finally, the long-awaited opening was scheduled for July 11, 1936. Toll booths were completed the day before. Supports were removed. Painters completed their work overnight. Three thousand people attended the opening held on the hottest day of that year. 

Telegram, July 2, 1936. Correspondence with Federal Officials, Mayor LaGuardia Records Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

There was some concern that antagonisms might arise at the event. Mayor La Guardia sent a telegram to Ickes, appealing that he attend the event. Robert Moses presided at the opening, introducing all of the speakers, including President Roosevelt and Harold Ickes. In his remarks, Moses said that projects as important as the Triborough were “too big for personal enmities.” 

Never one to block a metaphor, at the opening Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia praised the construction as offering employment during the depression and questioned, “What could be more symbolic of our present-day efforts than a bridge? Are we not seeking to bridge our present troubles?  Is this not a monument to the determination of the American people today, and a reminder of the mistakes of the past?”

Robert Moses speaking at Opening Day ceremonies, July 11, 1936. Triborough Bridge & Tunnel Authority Archive.

In his remarks, President Roosevelt thanked the workers on the bridge “and those workers in the mills and shops many miles distant, without whose strong arms, willing hands and clear heads there would be no celebration here today.” He praised the construction of the bridge as the response of a modern government to the evolving needs of the population. “People require and people are demanding up-to-date government tin place of antiquated government, just as they are requiring and demanding Triborough Bridges in the place of ancient ferries.” He also took a swipe at critics, possibly even Moses, “There are a few among us, luckily only a few, who still, consciously or unconsciously, live in a state of constant  protest against the daily processes of meeting modern needs. Most of us, I am glad to say, are willing to recognize change and to give it reasonable and constant help.”

Tri Boro Bridge, 125th Street, Manhattan, March 11, 1937. Photographer unknown, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“While the speeches were in progress motorists by the thousands gathered at the Manhattan, Bronx and Queens approaches of the bridge, waiting to be among the first to cross the structure.” reported the Herald Tribune.  The headline proclaimed “11,100 tolls paid in first hour rush.”

Tri Boro Bridge general view, January 11, 1937. Photographer unknown, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Preserving the Ghosts of New York City

New York City loves its holiday seasons. Whether it is the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Lunar New Year, or the lighting of the tree at Rockefeller Center, New Yorkers participate in major seasonal celebratory touchstone events. Halloween is no exception, and what better pastime to celebrate the scariest season than to share ghost stories?

This week For the Record highlights stories of the paranormal recorded by the WPA Federal Writers’ Project in the 1930s. Housed at the Municipal Archives the WPA Federal Writers’ Project collection contains a wealth of material that examine multiple facets of New York City life. Established in 1935, the Federal Writers’ Project was an important wing of the overall WPA. It employed an army of writers to document, publish, and preserve the local histories of every state and territory. New York City, like other major cities, received its own specific guide from the project as well. The Municipal Archives is fortunate to house many of the working files of the writers assigned to document New York City.

The Walton House, Pearl Street, New York. Valentine’s Manual, 1857. NYC Municipal Library.

Researchers familiar with the Municipal Archives may have already used elements of this collection in their studies. The WPA Federal Writers’ Project conducted the Church Records Survey, a very popular resource for researchers, but this only represents a small portion of the entire collection. Totaling 64 series and roughly 165 cubic feet, the entire collection is a valuable source of ethnographic, sociological, and cultural content. One series is particularly relevant to this season.

Series 28 of the Federal Writers’ project is titled “Look Behind You (Psychic Phenomenon) 1937-1938.” The records contain information on various aspects of the history and study of psychic phenomena and folklore in the United States, particularly in New York City and environs. Research on demonology, famous spiritualists, ghosts, haunted houses, psychic painting and photography, Native American spiritualism and folklore, witchcraft and other aspects of psychic research is included. The records document the efforts to assemble the information for both a popular historical and contemporary account of the study of psychic phenomena and folklore in the US. A draft manuscript was produced but there is no evidence that it was ever published.

Walton House, Sitting Room, 2nd Story. Valentine’s Manual of 1857, NYC Municipal Library.

The first highlighted story recounts the tale of an ill-fated sea captain named Guilford Walton. He was a resident of the Walton House in Franklin Square in lower Manhattan. He was a mysterious man, but residents of the house claimed he was a respectable individual. However, the captain soon began to mysteriously, much like his arrival, waste away.

It appears there was some “entity” hunting the unfortunate captain. Who knows what truly happened to Guilford Walton on that fateful night? Did the hard years at sea finally take their toll on the ex-sailor, or was there truly something hunting him? Additionally, what happened to the creature if it did exist? Despite the efforts of Walton’s comrades, the suspect was never caught. The Walton House and Franklin Square no longer exist so potentially the creature’s lair was demolished as well, or it possibly found a new home somewhere else in Manhattan?

The undead are not the only creatures who stalk the night. Some New Yorkers have seen more insidious creatures that are truly demonic in nature. Take the account of Thomas Flarity. He was a gardener on an estate near Fort Schuyler in what is now The Bronx. Flarity happened upon a fellow traveler late one night who happened to be looking for a gardener.   

It is fortunate that Flarity had more sense than Faust. While he was initially tempted to do so, he ultimately rejected the Devil’s deal and escaped with his soul intact.

This incident is not the only time a fiendish creature was spotted in the boroughs. In Staten Island there was a truly frightening patron who chose the famous Bull’s Head Tavern as its preferred haunt.

The Bull’s Head Tavern had attracted many famous visitors over its years of operation, but perhaps its most famous visitor was also its most infamous?

The Revolutionary War provides a connecting theme among the stories within series 28. There is a common notion that ghosts linger around sites of trauma and suffering. War is no exception and many haunted sites around the New York area are linked to that war. The most famous spirit cursed to haunt the area is the Headless Horseman of Washington Irving’s The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, but there is another deadly Hessian that haunted New York.  

These stories represent only a portion of what the WPA Writers’ recorded. There are many more tales of hauntings, ghosts, and other paranormal activities within the collection.

From For the Record, have a Happy Halloween!

Horsepower: The City and the Horse

Question: What was once ubiquitous in New York City and now almost completely absent from the streetscape? Answer: The Horse.

New York Central and Hudson River Railroad Company’s Freight Depot at West and Barclay Streets, Manhattan, November 1910. Department of Docks & Ferries Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Horses arrived with the first European colonial settlers and for the next three centuries powered the city’s transportation, construction, law enforcement, firefighting, street cleaning, ambulance, and delivery services. With related occupations and businesses—saddlers, blacksmiths, carriage manufacturers, harness makers, feed suppliers, stables, auction houses, etc. the City was dense with horses. This week, For the Record introduces the topic and features pictures selected from the Municipal Archives gallery that illustrate the preponderance of the horse in city life. Future articles will identify and explore resources in the Archives for further study of the horse in the City.

Team of 34 horses bringing steel girders for Municipal Building from dock at Battery Place, February 26, 1911. Photograph by Eugene de Salignac, Department of Bridges, Plant & Structures Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Dutch brought horses to New Amsterdam to carry heavy loads and operate gristmills and sawmills. English settlers imported horses for racing. Soon after their arrival, references to horses appear in official records, most often as the subject of assorted regulations and taxation. An entry from The Minutes of the Common Council for October 15, 1670, provides a typical citation: “Ordered that all and every person that should ship from this place any horses, mares or geldings to Virginia, Maryland or any other outward plantations should pay for every horse, mare or gelding one shilling in silver or two guilders in wampum....”

Subsequent records document regulations about where and how horses could be bought and sold, watered and fed. And many rules focused on horse racing—most often the prevention thereof.

Police officer with his horse in Central Park, ca. 1915. NYPD Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Department of Street Cleaning snow removal team, n.d. Department of Sanitation Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The first horse-drawn omnibus in the nation operated along Broadway in Manhattan from Prince to 14th Street beginning in 1832. Horse-drawn passenger vehicles continued to ply city streets until 1918. Beginning in the 1860s, fire companies adopted horses to pull fire-fighting apparatus. Similarly, the Street Cleaning Department, and the Department of Public Charities and Hospitals hitched horses to their equipment.

The number of plans related to features of Central Park specifically dedicated to horses in the Department of Parks drawing collection points to their importance for leisure activities.

Central Park, shelter for carriages and horses, preliminary study, front elevation. Jacob Wrey Mould, 1871. Department of Parks & Recreation Drawings Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Horse Aid Society, Manhattan Bridge, October 18, 1917. Photographer: Eugene de Salignac. Department of Bridges Plant & Structures Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

West 44th Street, September 6, 1931. Photographer: Frank Savastano. Borough President Manhattan Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Other records reveal another consequence of the city’s reliance on horses. There are disturbing numbers of arraignments in the Police and Magistrate’s Court docket books for offenses related to animal abuse. In many cases, the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) brought the charges. New York City’s branch of the ASPCA, founded in 1866, was the first in the U.S. based on a similar group that originated in Great Britain. More recently, the ASPCA monitors conditions of the City’s carriage horses.

By the early twentieth century, the number of horses in the city began to diminish. Technology, in the form of motor vehicles—cars and trucks, gradually reduced the city’s reliance on horsepower. Between 1910 and 1920, the number of horses in the City declined from 128,000 to 56,000.

Riders on Central Park Bridle Paths, June 1937. Photographer: E.M. Bofinger. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Although much reduced in number, the horse is not entirely absent from the City scene today. Aqueduct Racetrack in Queens, the only racetrack located within New York City limits, continues to operate, generally from late October through April. Closure of the Claremont Riding Stables on Manhattan’s Upper West Side in 2007 greatly reduced, but did not entirely eliminate people enjoying horseback rides along Central Park’s bridle paths. And despite decades-long protests and controversy, horse-drawn carriages still meander through the southern portion of the park.

Highway maintenance, Queens Boulevard and Woodhaven Avenue, August 13, 1926. Borough President Queens Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Coney Island Hospital ambulance, n.d. Department of Public Charities and Hospitals Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Department of Street Cleaning rubbish wagon, Brooklyn, n.d. Department of Sanitation Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Teamster on West Street, Manhattan, February 10, 1938. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Horse with feed bag, ca. 1936. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Village blacksmith, 33 Cornelia Street, Manhattan, August 6, 1937. Photographer: E.M. Bofinger. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mayor Edward Koch at the Big Apple Stakes, Aqueduct Racetrack, Queens, April 26, 1980. Mayor Edward Koch Photograph Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Marriage Contracts

October is Family History month. In recognition of this popular pastime and the many valuable genealogy resources at the Municipal Archives, For the Record explores the origins and intellectual content of the Marriage Contract collection. There are 8,616 items in the series; the bulk of the material pre-dates 1908 when New York State instituted the marriage license requirement. Similar to license records, the contracts provide information essential for family historians. But they also reveal interesting data that illuminates the experience of new immigrants to the United States during the first decade of the twentieth century.   

But first, why were the contracts created? The records help provide the answer. Most of the contracts consist of pre-printed forms with information filled-in as appropriate. There are two forms, both titled “Marriage Contract.” On one of the forms pre-printed text reads, “Now, therefore, in pursuance of Subdivision 4 of Section 11 of Article II of the Domestic Relations Law, as amended by Chapter 339 of the laws of 1901, the said [name of groom] and the said [name of bride] do from the date of this contract become Husband and Wife.” 

 The Municipal Library’s New York State publication collection includes a copy of The Laws of the State of New York, 1901. Turning to Chapter 339, §11 the text states “Marriage, so far as its validity in law is concerned continues to be a civil contract . . . that must be “solemnized.” The 1901 law amended an 1896 statute which specified that a marriage may be solemnized by 1) clergyman or minister of any religion, or the leader of the society for ethical culture in the City of New York; 2) mayor, recorder, alderman, police justice or police magistrate; or 3) a justice or judge of a court of record, etc.   

Marriage contract no. 8501. NYC Municipal Archives.

The 1901 amendment added a fourth method to validate a marriage: “A written contract of marriage signed by both parties, and at least two witnesses.” The amendment added “Such contract shall be filed within six months after its execution in the office of the clerk of the town or city in which the marriage was solemnized.” The Governor approved the amended law on April 12, 1901, and it became effective on January 1, 1902. Shortly thereafter, the New York City Clerk began receiving marriage contracts.   

The contract series is a valuable resource for family historians. All of the contracts include basic data, e.g. names and dates. In some instances, additional information is provided, such as birthplaces and parents’ names.

Upon closer examination, the records also provide some fascinating insights into immigration. One notable feature of the series is that many of the couples have family names that point to origins in Southern and Eastern Europe. Given patterns of immigration at that time, the likelihood is that many were recent arrivals to the U.S. Further inspection shows that many were very new arrivals, i.e. marrying at Ellis Island on the day of arrival. As noted above, most of the contracts are pre-printed forms. One of the two forms that comprise most of the series was supplied by the “U.S. Department of Commerce and Labor, Immigration Service,” according to a stamp on the forms. 

Examining marriage contracts that used the federal form reveals an interesting phenomenon. The grooms are almost always listed as residing in the U.S., mainly New York City. But the “residence” of the bride is frequently recorded as Ellis Island. For example, contract no. 2453: “We, Harry Askin, aged 25, residing at 357 E. 10th Street, N.Y.C. and Lei Stein, aged 18, arriving Ellis Island, S. S. Statendam on January 4, 1905, hereby agree to marry etc.”   

Marriage contract no. 5709. NYC Municipal Archives.

Over the years, patrons visiting the archives have sometimes been in search of documentation to support a family legend that their ancestors married on Ellis Island. City archivists replied that there were not records; Ellis Island was not considered part of New York City for vital record purposes, and reporting of birth, death and marriage events to the City’s Health Department was not consistent. Now, with the newly indexed marriage contract series, maybe the family stories are true – and there are records to prove it!  

A second observation about contracts using the Immigration Service form is that there are “witnesses” who signed multiple contracts. For example, during the last two weeks of August 1904, Helen A. Taylor, of 108 W. 84th Street, witnessed eleven marriages. All eleven brides “resided” on Ellis Island, having arrived on steamships within a day or two of the contract-signing. Although two grooms also listed Ellis Island as place of residence, all the rest resided locally. Similarly, Elizabeth A. Fitzgerald, of 404 E. 6th Street, witnessed five marriage contracts during December 1904. The newly-arrived brides all married U.S. resident grooms, often on the day the boat docked: “We, George W. Whitehead, 26 years, residing at 165 W. 21st Street, N.Y.C. and Edith Swain, 23 years, arrived at Ellis Island, S.S. Lucania, December 12, 1904, hereby agree to marry etc.,” signed December 12, 1904. (Marriage contract no. 2381.) 

Marriage contract no 8497. NYC Municipal Archives.

This leads to further questions. Were the “witnesses” representatives of an altruistic organization such as the Immigrant Aid Society, or were they operating some kind of business enterprise? Did having the marriage contract ease entry to the U.S. through Ellis Island?   

One possible answer comes from historical information supplied by the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services division of the Department of Homeland Security. According to their website, “During its first decade [after 1892], the Immigration Service formalized basic immigration procedures and made its first attempts to enforce a national immigration policy. The Immigration Service began collecting arrival manifests (also frequently called passenger lists or immigration arrival records) from each incoming ship, a former duty of the U.S. Customs Service since 1820. Inspectors then questioned arrivals about their admissibility and noted their admission or rejection on the manifest records. Beginning in 1893, Inspectors also served on Boards of Special Inquiry that closely reviewed each exclusion case. Inspectors often initially excluded noncitizens who were likely to become public charges because they lacked funds or had no friends or relatives nearby.”   

Given this information, it seems apparent that having one of the two parties already residing in the U.S. probably assured quick passage through Ellis Island and a new life in America.  

Once again, basic bureaucratic processes and the resulting documentation available in Municipal Archives collections help tell a larger story. And future digitization of the series will greatly expand this utility. In the meantime, the index to the contracts can be accessed by clicking on the ‘External Documents’ link in the Collection Guide description of the collection. Patrons can visit the Archives to view the contracts, or order copies using the online order form for historical marriage records.    

The Closing of Sydenham Hospital

At the start of 2018, the Municipal Archives began digitizing its vast and varied audiovisual collections, including lacquer discs, films and tapes from municipal broadcasters WNYC Radio and TV, surveillance films created by the New York Police Department (NYPD) and early cable television programming from the City’s Channel L Working Group. Now, almost six years later, the Archives has made thousands of hours of this visual material available online, with even more being added in the next few months.

These four collections, WNYC Radio (REC0078), WNYC-TV (REC0047), the NYPD Surveillance Films (REC0063) and Channel L (REC0072) together provide uniquely detailed and multifaceted perspectives on the City of New York during one of its most difficult eras since the Great Depression. These municipal entities often covered the same issues facing New Yorkers, but through different lenses and motivated by different public interests. While WNYC Radio and TV mostly showed the City through a lens of journalism and culture, the NYPD had its eye on the safety and security of its inhabitants. Meanwhile, Channel L gave cable subscribers a window into the minutia of City government with a variety of call-in talk show programs, many hosted by City officials trying to explain their legislative efforts and amplifying the voices of activists and average New Yorkers invited on the air.

Sydenham Hospital, ca. 1940. Tax Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

One issue that WNYC, the NYPD and Channel L all covered was the 1980 closure of Sydenham Hospital in Harlem. As discussed in a previous blog post, Sydenham Hospital was the first fully integrated hospital in the United States. It also served one of the most medically deprived areas of the country, with health outcomes for Harlem residents far below those of other New Yorkers. Still, the dire budgetary constraints of 1970s New York ultimately led Mayor Ed Koch to close the hospital.

WNYC-TV was on the scene documenting protests at the hospital over the years. The television journalists also covered official statements regarding the fate of the public hospital system from both Mayors Abe Beame and Ed Koch, as well as City Council President Carol Bellamy. This newly preserved and freely available footage shows the day-to-day news coverage from WNYC-TV that New Yorkers depended on to keep abreast of current events. Over the years, WNYC-TV employed journalists like Brian Lehrer, Maria Hinojosa, Bob Herbert, and Ti-Hua Chang to host talk shows like NY Hotline, and to critically investigate current events.

Like WNYC-TV, Channel L covered major metro-area developments, but rather than employing a cadre of journalists, Channel L gave hosting duties directly to the political figures that WNYC reporters often interviewed. City Council member Fred Samuels represented Harlem during the 1970s and 80s. He often hosted Channel L talk shows featuring doctors from Sydenham Hospital who expressed the importance of their healthcare facility to the people of Harlem. Samuels also featured other residents and professionals from Harlem on his repeat appearances, using the new format of cable television to highlight an array of issues confronting the community he represented, and his efforts to address the challenges of his constituents.

At the same time, the New York Police Department was also creating audiovisual records of social and political protest movements, including the ten-day occupation of Sydenham Hospital. Unlike Channel L and WNYC-TV, the NYPD never intended the footage to be released to the public. These films were created to further the efforts of the NYPD’s Bureau of Special Services (BOSS) to maintain the safety and security of New Yorkers during an increasingly tumultuous and physically dangerous time. Because of this different motive and method, the footage from this collection offers a totally different perspective on the same events covered by the journalists of WNYC-TV and the politicians of Channel L.

Through the work of archivists at the Municipal Archives, the perspectives of the City’s journalists, politicians, activists, police, and average New Yorkers come together to create a rich vision of one of the greatest cities in the world on the closure of Sydenham Hospital and countless other historical events and movements. The fight for LGBTQ+ rights, Caribbean migration, the rise of modern environmentalism, the Civil Rights movement, the Cold War, second wave feminism, the birth of hip-hop, the space race and so many other developments in the second half of the twentieth century are revealed in new ways through the sounds and visions of these never-before available collections. With holdings that dwarf every other city in the United States, the NYC Municipal Archives and its audiovisual collections serve a vital function of providing a communal memory of American culture, identity, and history, reminding us of our values as a society and the lessons our predecessors learned for our benefit. 


This is the last blog post by archivist Chris Nicols. After more than five-years of work dedicated to preserving the visual resources of the Municipal Archives, Chris is moving on to new challenges. We will miss both his technical know-how and the always intelligent perspective he provided on the content he worked so hard to preserve.