The Newtown Pentacle

Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

Archive for the ‘Calvary Cemetery’ Category

distant ravine

with one comment

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The final product of my “Grand Walk” which was found on my camera card, which was populated by these puzzling images of centuried statuary lost amongst First Calvary’s emerald devastations.

The figure is life sized, according and conforming to the proportions and stature of the malnourished 19th century. In our modern era of gigantic milk, beef, and grain fed humans, when 6 feet of height is not an uncommon attainment for Italians, Irish, and Chinese alike (all 3 notoriously short statured groups according to historical anecdote), she seems to be a young girl- but this delicate figure conforms to statistical adult height records of 19th century immigrant New York.

We often forget, when discussing fashionable dining trends (locavore or vegan, organic or farm raised- bleh) that the primary goal of our forebears wasn’t ultimately financial acquisition, but was instead a guarantee of basic nutrition.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Pithy commentary about the fallacies of a modern world, corporatized and commercialized, notwithstanding- attention is called to the plastic baubles which the monument has been adorned with. Such commemorate decoration is commonly observed at area cemeteries, although the rules and bylaws of these institutions publish severe limitations on acceptable grave ornamentation. Unless taste and or propriety are offended, the management seems to allow these minor decorative touches to subsist for a time, after which the activities of groundskeeping and upkeep sweep the place clean.

Behind a fence or near a seldom used entranceway at any of these urban polyandrions, once can easily locate a dumpster containing a polyglot of rotting flowers in cheap vases, joss paper idols, and a cacophony of sentimental or religious trinkets which lie glittering amidst the debris.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The trinket itself is pedestrian, a childish and injection molded representation of grapes on the vine. What sets me to wonder, and more than wonder, is that undeniable resemblance to the color of the purple bloom worn by the apostate Hibernian and his bizarre companions whose threatening aspect hurled me into a panicked state and meandering escape route through the ancient sections of New York City.

I’ve been queried via private email about this person by several people. Unfortunately, as mentioned in the last posting, I can only remember bits and pieces- but the flower in his lapel matched the color of these plastic beads exactly- of that I can be sure.

What does it mean? I cannot tell you, as it would be madness to attempt the connection of dots between a seemingly random series of events.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Did your humble narrator, stricken by terror induced delirium, randomly stumble along deeply buried trolley tracks past storefront mystics on Delancey Street and over the Williamsburg Bridge into the heart of 19th century Williamsburg?

It was in the piecing together of these seemingly random shots, in their proper order, that the various historical tidbits began to present themselves, and the journey across the Newtown Creek and through Maspeth led into places which I had never suspected- such as the story of Case’s Crew (the apostate Friends shunned by most, but welcomed here).

Local historical authorities reacted in a bizarre and hostile manner when queried about this group of apostate Friends, I would add. The impression of this exchange puzzled me, but for some, knowledge is meant to be suppressed and zealously hidden away in a vault rather than disseminated freely.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Often, as I pack up my ridiculous “field kit” and leave the house for one of my “walks” about the vast human hive, I will joke that “I feel like Queens wants me to see something today, probably “that way”- as I gesture in some random direction to Our Lady of the Pentacle or my little dog Zuzu.

Our lady smiles and says “bless”, while Zuzu usually turns around to see what I’m pointing at.

I’ve learned it’s just best to listen to Queens, as it suffers beneath the load it bears for the rest of the City, and simply attempt to understand its terrible story. If some decide to stand in my way, or otherwise obstruct me, they will know what it means to burn away into ignominy and learn the meaning of the words inexorable, irresistible, and merciless.

The story, it’s parable, and the answers to the future offered by this ancient place are too important.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

This “Grand Walk” ended at Greenpoint Avenue, apparently, or at least that’s when the pictures stopped.

The final shot was of the Long Island Expressway from First Calvary, an elevated roadway which hurtles as high as 106 feet above Borden Avenue and that liquid malignity which fills the banks of Dutch Kills. Borden Avenue, of course, is a counterpart to Grand Street in Brooklyn- another ferry to trolley road corridor which has been forgotten and obliterated by modernity.

Ultimately, all roads do indeed seem to lead to Calvary, here in the Newtown Pentacle.

from Documents of the Senate of the State of New York, Volume 5, 18dd, courtesy google books

The road is a double track line laid in the center of Borden avenue, from Vernon to Bradley avenues, and thence a single track along Bradley avenue to Green Point avenue and entrance to Calvary cemetery.

At Vernon avenue a junction is made, and tracks used of the Steinway and Hunter’s Point railroad, along Borden avenue to the Thirty-fourth street ferry slips fronting on East river. A piece of track is laid from Borden avenue along Front street to Third street, a portion of which is used for storing cars, and there is a short side track at the cemetery terminal.

The total length of road now owned and operated from Vernon to Green Point avenues is about one and two-fifths miles, and the portion of the Steinway railroad operated jointly is about one-fifth of a mile, making a total length of road owned, leased and operated by the Long Island City and Calvary Cemetery Railroad Company one and three fifths miles.

Borden avenue is paved with block stone as far south as the drawbridge over the Dutch Kills canal; the remainder of the track is laid upon and along the center of an ordinary earth roadway.

The superstructure is laid with fiat iron street rails where the street is paved, and also along Bradley avenue a distance of onefifth mile.

The general construction of the superstructure is not as permanent in character and condition of maintenance as generally found on surface roads. Ties are widely spaced, and flat rail not thoroughly secured to longitudinal timbers, and the line and surface imperfect. South of the draw-bridge, upon the earth road-bed, the track is laid with light T rails, secured at ends with fish plate, many of which are omitted, causing the ends to form an uneven vertical joint.

From the crossing of the Long Island railroad to Bradley avenue, Borden avenue is a roadway raised up about eight feet above the low flat lands bordering the Dutch Kill and Newton creek, and the portion of the avenue south of the canal is being raised each year, requiring a corresponding raise of superstructure, which may account in part for the imperfect condition of that portion of the tracks; no serious inconvenience can bo experienced, however, as the cars have good, easy springs, and they ride the rail fairly well; yet a thoroughly Constructed, lined and surfaced superstructure would add to the comfort of passengers, and insure greater speed at less outlay of power.

At Calvary cemetery no separate waiting-room is provided, those in hotels being used. At the northerly terminal the covered way and waiting-rooms of the ferry are conveniently near, and afford protection in inclement weather.

Written by Mitch Waxman

August 3, 2011 at 2:38 am

paramount desire

with 6 comments

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The final series of images which were discovered on my camera card, product of a trance like “Grand Walk” which carried me through an ancient corridor of the megalopolis, corroborated my theory that indeed- all roads always have and always will lead to Calvary.

Calvary Cemetery hosts the hoary remnants of an ancient clan of Anglo Saxons called the Alsops, who are buried in a family plot maintained as separate and distinct from the necropolis which surrounds it. Protestant land, officially, the earliest grave found here is meant to be the one housing the sire of the line- that of Thomas Wandell, but if there was ever a marker it is long vanished.

There are several members and generations of the Alsop family interred here, alongside their unnamed and oft unmentioned African slaves in this hidden corner of the Newtown Pentacle.

The oldest stone extant is that of Richard Alsop, a crumbling example of the carvers art which dates to 1718.

from The Eastern District of Brooklyn By Eugene L. Armbruster, courtesy google books

The Alsop farm, on the Queens County shore of the Newtown Creek, was the grave of Thomas Wandell, the former owner of the farm, who died in 1691. A large part of the farm became the site of Calvary Cemetery, but the Alsop family burial ground, by a reservation to the family, still remains Protestant ground.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Alsop was quite a fellow by all reports, a very public man who acted as judicial magistrate and executor of inheritances for the simple farmers of Newtown. One of his descendants, John Alsop of Connecticut and Long Island, was a delegate to the Constitutional Conventions which initiated the “American experiment” in the 1770’s and 80’s.

The last of the Alsop line in Newtown – also named Richard Alsop- died without heirs, and a vast plantation estate that stretched along the then vernal Newtown Creek was offered up for sale.

It found interested buyers in a group of Irishmen hailing from Mulberry Street, across the river in New York, who worked for a large firm headquartered in Rome.

from Publication Fund series By New-York Historical Society, courtesy google books

Thomas Wandell, Maspeth Kills. “The last will and Testament of Thomas Wandell of Maspeth Kills in the bounds and limits of Newtown upon Long Island; being subject to sudden sickness and knowing the certainty of death.” Leaves all estate, except the following legacies, to his wife Audry Wandell, and makes her his sole executrix.

I leave to my cousin Richard Alsop, the piece of salt meadow that lieth within his fence, that incompasseth his dwelling house.

Also 2 steers and a case of pistols already in his possession.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Long has your humble narrator desired to look upon the monument of “he who must not be named” and the long journey which carried me here actually began when I was contacted via “electronic mail” by a stranger who claimed to possess first hand information- an actual burial plot address here at Calvary.

He described himself as belonging to a faction of the “Ancient Order of Hibernians” which had splintered away from the mainstream group in 1921 over a silly doctrinal dispute. His forebears had stored away a copy of the burial and business records of Calvary Cemetery, a singular item since the original documents possessed by the Church were immolated in an outwardly suspicious fire.

Insisting that our meeting be privately attended yet in a public place is what led me to St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral in the first place, a seemingly natural location given the circumstances, and one that might provide certain literary symmetries if the story was later told.

As is habitual for one like myself, an attempt was made at an early arrival, and when my appointee arrived- he was not alone nor was he unobserved.

from Historical records and studies, Volume 1 By United States. Catholic Historical Society, courtesy google books

In the meeting of trustees, Sept. 19, 1845, it was announced that the Alsop Farm, consisting of about 115 acres, in Newtown Township, Long Island, had been secured for a cemetery. The deeds are dated Oct. 29, 1845. On July 31, 1848, at a special meeting of the board, it was resolved that “the cemetery at Newtown Creek, recently consecrated in part, should be called Calvary, and placed at the disposal of the public; that after August 2d the 11th Street burial-ground, as well as the free vault at 50th Street, should be permanently closed.”

Calvary Cemetery began to be used August 4, 1848. The first interment was that of Esther Ennis. Sections 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 had been previously blessed. No record is preserved, however, of the ceremony.

Formerly, as is well known, every farm had its ” wood-lot” for fuel. The Alsop Farm had reserved 11 acres for this purpose, and the wood-lot has remained undisturbed to the present time. About 30 acres, lying in low ground near the water, were sold many years ago. The remaining 73 95-100 acres of the original Alsop Farm were devoted to and are still used for cemetery purposes.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

It was the sight of his companions that shocked me into flight, as reported in the first post of this series, and I will confess to experiencing a sort of racism that has nothing to do with national origin or ethnicity having been kindled in me. Rather than ethnographic it was something ancestral and instinctual, a genetic memory of some other specie of intelligent ape which our wholesome ancestors saw fit to exterminate in some long ago savannah.

I’m not altogether sure that these 2 companions of his were members of the “human race” itself, you see – with rounded jowls and underdeveloped chins they appeared to have a snout rather than a face- and what hung hairily beneath their wrists are better described as paws rather than hands. Their clothing was unseasonable and several years behind current fashions- flannel jackets and watch caps worn on a warm summer afternoon. The Anti Hibernian I was meant to meet did most of the talking in low whispers, and hoarse grunts were the only responses the two man shaped creatures offered in return which I could make out.

The exact moment which brought on this latest surrender to “one of my states”, triggering a multiple hour flight which carried me across half of New York City in a foot blistering haze, happened when I was peeking out from behind one of the columns at St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral in the manner of some mouse who has just noticed the presence of predators.

also from Historical records and studies, Volume 1 By United States. Catholic Historical Society, courtesy google books

At present there are over five miles of flag walks in Calvary. The cost of the headstones, monuments, etc., is roughly estimated as exceeding $6,000,000. A force of about 150 men is constantly occupied in attending to the burials, adapting and preparing the grounds for future use. A characteristic feature of Calvary, as of all Catholic cemeteries in contradistinction to large burial corporations formed with a view to personal profit, is the provision made for the benefit of the poor and destitute. According to the direction of the ritual and the spirit of Christian charity, the needy are interred as a work of mercy. In fact, more than one tenth of all the burials are gratuitous.

The entire number of interments since the opening of the cemetery in August, 1848, to January, 1898, is 644,761.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Bits of it, like words on the tip of your tongue, are available to me as fragmented images lensed through the curious distortions of a migraine headache….

  • A metallic cylinder of some kind, the thickness of a young child’s index finger, passing between the man who contacted me and his conspirators.
  • The oddly green color and outmoded cut and style of the sports jacket worn by the man I was meeting, gaudily ornamented with a purple blossom of unknown breed which emitted a sickly lemon like smell
  • The odd juxtaposition of muddy workman boots worn under suit pants seemingly chosen to match the flower.
  • The horrible countenance and bestial appearance of his companions, augmented by the jiggling folds produced where their jowled necks became occluded beneath shirt collar.

from the Friends’ intelligencer, Volume 35, courtesy google books

The early history of Friends in Newtown and Maspeth Kills is marred by the irregularities of the Ranters, who claimed to be Friends, and intruded on their meetings.

Such was Thomas Case, who (1674) was forbidden by the Court to entertain the wife of William “Smith. His wife, Mary Case, was fined £5 for interrupting Rev. William Leveridge, while preaching, by saying to him: “Come down, thou whited wall that feedest thyself and starvest the people.” Samuel Scudder sent a long, scandalous letter to Mr. Leveridge.

The Court put Case and Scudder under bonds not “to seduce and disturb the people.”

– photo by Mitch Waxman

But this was not the least, for the event which set off my spell is also contained in one of these glimmer images…

I noticed that all three bore that unmistakable colour often commented on around the Newtown Creek, an iridescent hue which is neither black nor white nor any recognizable color of the wholesome earth, rather it is something alien- like a colour out of space.

When one observes this colour, especially within the elite corridors and behind the mirrored shield wall of the Shining City of Manhattan itself, it is obvious that something from the tainted Creeklands is nearby.

from The annals of Newtown, in Queens County, New York, containing its history from its first settlement, together with many interesting facts concerning the adjacent towns, courtesy openlibrary.org

Mr. Wandell, according to reminiscence in the Alsop family, had been a major in Cromwell’s army ; but, having some dispute with the protector, was obliged to flee for safety, first to Holland, and thence to America.

But some doubt of this may be justly entertained; because Mr. Wandell was living at Mespat Kills in 1648, which was prior to the execution of King Charles, and when Cromwell enjoyed but a subordinate command in the parliamentary army. Mr. Wandell m. the widow of Wm. Herrick, whose plantation on Newtown Creek, (originally patented to Richard Brutnell,) he bought in 1659, afterwards adding to it fifty acres, for which Richard Colefax had obtained a patent in 1652.

On this property, since composing the Alsop farm, Mr. Wandell resided.

He was selected, in 1665, as one of the jury for the trial of Ralph Hall and his wife for witchcraft, (the only trial for witchery in this colony,) and shared the honor of acquitting the accused. Some years later, he made a voyage to England, returning by way of Barbadoes, and, it is supposed, brought with him from England his sister’s son, Richard Alsop, who, about this time, came to America, and was adopted by Mr. Wandell as his heir, he having no issue. He d. in 1691, and was interred on the hill occupied by the Alsop cemetery.

Many years after his death, the silver plate of his cofiin was discovered, in digging a new grave.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

That malign and impossible intelligence which cannot possibly exist in the crown of this “Sapphire Megalith of the Long Island“, a thing which neither thinks nor breathes but instead hungers, gazing down on the folly of knowing the past and chuckling deeply (it does laugh, I am told). Protected and coddled by its mercenary army of human acolytes, it must wonder “what profit can there be in these pursuits?”.

And in the deep past- hidden behind the orthodoxy of 20th century historians- are found hidden references to Hannah Alsop (widow of Richard) having hosted meetings of so called “Friends” (Quakers in modernity) on the Alsop plantation. A nameless cult of some kind, these apostates are remembered only by their presence along Newtown Creek, troublemaking further east on Long Island, and by the colloquial name of “Case’s Crew”.

from Potter’s American Monthly, Volume 1, courtesy google books

There had scarce been any profession of the christian religion among the people of that town. They had scarcely any notion of religion but Quakerism. The Quakers had formerly a meeting there; but many of them became followers of Tho’s. Case, and were called ‘Case’s Crew,’ who set up a new sort of Quakerism, and among other vile principles, condemned marriage and said it was of the Devil, perverting that text of Scripture. ‘The children of the resurrection neither marry nor are given in marriage,’ and they said ‘they were the children of the resurrection.

‘ This mad sort of Quakerism held that ‘they were come already to the resurrection and had their vile bodies already changed.'”

suitable apparatus

with 9 comments

– photo by Mitch Waxman

As the redolent cargo of my camera card revealed- this “Grand Walk”, a panic induced marathon which carried your humble narrator across the East River from St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral in Manhattan into Williamsburg and up Grand Street to Maspeth and the baroque intrigues of the Newtown Creek– wound down into it’s final steps on Laurel Hill Blvd.

Examining the images recorded on my camera, photos which I don’t remember taking, the ineluctable feeling that something was missing from the modern scene was inescapable.

from wikipedia

Nichols, along with his son Charles W. Nichols, helped organize the merger of 12 companies in 1899 to create General Chemical. Under his leadership, the company grew its asset base and increased its earnings threefold, making Nichols a force in America’s fledgling chemical industry. His vision of a bigger, better chemical company took off when he teamed up with investor Eugene Meyer in 1920. Nichols and Meyer combined five smaller chemical companies to create the Allied Chemical & Dye Corporation, which later became Allied Chemical Corp., and eventually became part of AlliedSignal, the forerunner of Honeywell’s specialty materials business. Both men have buildings named after them at Honeywell’s headquarters in Morristown, New Jersey. His original plant along the Newtown Creek in Queens is infamous for its legacy of pollution. Nichols is rumored to have once emptied vats of excess sulfuric acid into the creek rather than sell it cheaply to a businessman he had no respect for.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Nichols Chemical, from which the legendary Phelps Dodge Laurel Hill plant would someday sprout, would have been found along the Newtown Creek nearby the thrice damned Kosciuszko Bridge – which is itself doomed and consigned to the stuff of future reminiscence. At it’s apex, this industrial site employed 17,500 people and squatted along some 36 square acres of the Creeklands.

The tallest chimneys in the United States (at the time) stabbed at the sky from here, painting the Newtown sky with poison effluvium whose pH content was sufficient to cause marble and granite to melt like ice cream left to the merciless gaze of the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The Kosciuszko Bridge is slated for demolition and replacement in a few short years of course, and this scene will irrevocably alter when a modern structure is put in place. The high flying bridge was built large to accommodate the sort of ocean going craft which were common in the 1930’s- cargo and passenger vessels with enormous smokestacks that would have been serviced and outfitted by other corporations just up the Creek.

Additionally, the war department held certain intentions and reserved the option to sequester battleships in Newtown Creek, with the intentions of protecting the vital industrial center from a safe inlet, were an invasion of North America attempted by hostile European adversaries via New York Harbor.

from Greater New York: bulletin of the Merchants’ Association of New York, Volume 2, 1913, courtesy google books

When a manufacturing establishment decides to increase its output fivefold; when it decides to tear down its present buildings and put up new ones; and when it owns valuable waterfront which is marketable at a high price, that concern considers carefully the question whether it will remain in its present location or move to some other. Now our friends above mentioned would doubtless at once aver that, if this concern was a New York concern and found itself in this situation, there could be but one answer—”To Jersey for us”— or to some other place near land’s end where land can be purchased for a song, where government regulations are unknown and where, in addition, the manufacturer would find himself surrounded by a great and aching void.

But all these prophesies are as wormwood and the pessimists are confounded. Over In the wilds of Queens there Is a place—look it up on the map—called Laurel Hill.

Laurel Hill is not a place of beauty. The undulating hills in them neighborhood are covered with cemeteries, rocks, and ugly houses and through the midst of it all (lows the far-famed Newtown Creek, covered at all times during the day and night with busy water craft. But Laurel Hill is one of the most important manufacturing districts in Greater New York and Newtown Creek is one of the foremost commercial arteries in or about NewYork City.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

One of the aphorisms which has emerged in my studies of Newtown Creek and the surrounding communities is this: “all roads lead to Calvary“.

Whether it be ancient ferry lines which fed the street car roads, or the occluded pathways of the aboriginal Mespaetche and Decadent Dutch, all the roads of western Queens and North Brooklyn point inevitably to this spot. Semi conscious during this “Grand Walk”, your humble narrator nevertheless found himself at the corner of Laurel Hill Blvd. and Review Avenue once again, standing before the great and sacred Polyandrion of the Roman Catholic church in New York City.

also from Greater New York: bulletin of the Merchants’ Association of New York, Volume 2, 1913, courtesy google books

Perhaps the foremost industry at Laurel Hill is the Nichols Copper Company. To this factory each year come by boat and by rail thousands of tons of copper, some of it in the raw state— the ore—and much of it already in bars ready for the final refining. The copper is refined here and put into a variety of forms and shapes ready for the market. The raw material comes in from the Lake Superior region, from Mexico, and even from more distant South America. The finished product goes to manufacturers in all parts of the world. The annual value of this product is over $60,000,000, and there are between seventeen hundred and eighteen hundred men engaged in converting the raw copper into the refined product which has made this factory famous tne world over.

In this factory, located within Greater New York, there is three times as much copper refined as in any other factory in the United States.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Here lies Tammany, the Dead Rabbits, and a good percentage of those colorful characters who populated the “Bloody Sixth Ward” of the Five Points in 19th century New York. Here lies the Newsboy Governor, the “Original Gangster“, and the rightful heirs to the throne of Ireland rest within the ground consecrated by the legendary prelate called “Dagger John” alongside the “Fighting 69th” and “the 21” and the “Abbot“. Here is the secretive cruciform shaped repository which contains the remains of thousands of priests and nuns, in a catacomb which lies some 50 feet below the Almirall Chapel.

Additionally, here might be found the grave of a man who died in 1718, lying with both his descendants and his african slaves in the only Protestant burial ground entirely contained by a Catholic cemetery in North America.

And from above, that thing in the Sapphire Megalith which neither thinks nor breathes but instead hungers, watches.

from Illustrated history of the borough of Queens, New York City, 1908, courtesy google books

The Alsop family was also among the early settlers. Richard Alsop, the first of the name to locate here, came at the request of his uncle, one Thomas Wandell, who was said to have left England because he had become involved in a quarrel with Oliver Cromwell, though this report is doubtful, for it is known that Wandell was living at Mespat Kills in 1648, or before Charles I was put to death. He had secured a considerable tract of land by patents and purchase which he left to his nephew, Richard Alsop. The family he founded became extinct in 1837 when the last of the name died without issue.

athwart the desert

with 2 comments

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Many things find a piquant and interested perch in my thoughts.

Autocthonic, these wonderings are often based on observations of a block or two of grandiose structures which seem out of place in modern context, Greenpoint Avenue between Manhattan Ave. and the East River is just one.

There is a distinct and obviously missing element which once defined its “reason for being”, and like many of the other occlusions which abound along the coastline of North Brooklyn and Western Queens- the answer is presented by First Calvary Cemetery.

from the “DIGEST OF SPECIAL STATUTES By THE CITY OF NEW YORK” courtesy google books

1865: This act incorporates the Green Point and Calvary Railroad Company, and authorizes the construction of a railroad, to be operated by horse power only, from at or near the Green Point and Tenth street ferry, at the foot of Green Point avenue, in the city of Brooklyn, thence along Green Point avenue to Green Point avenue plank road, across the bridge over Newtown creek; thence easterly along said road to the easterly side of Calvary cemetery at or near the point where the, said road intersects the main road leading from Calvary cemetery to Hunter’s Point; thence to Central avenue; thence along Central avenue and Commercial street to Franklin avenue, to Freeman street, to Washington street, to the place of beginning.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

It’s no accident that Almiralls chapel is clearly visible from the paramount of Greenpoint Avenue at Manhattan Avenue.

It’s a latecomer to the scene of course, having been built in the early years of the 20th century, but in 1865 when the Streetcar Line described above was mandated there were 1,000 interments a day going on at Calvary. Some portion of those were the graves which were being uprooted over in Manhattan of course, when cemeteries there were outlawed by the Rural Cemetery Act of 1848, but the majority of the dead coming to Queens were from a sausage grinder called the Five Points and the Tenth Street Ferry was how you got from points A to B for the funerals.

from “A history of the city of Brooklyn By Henry Reed Stiles” courtesy google books

The Green-point Ferries are from the foot of Green-Point Avenue, Brooklyn, E. D., to the foot of East Tenth and East Twenty-Third streets, New York. The first named route was established in 1852 (lease dated 1850), by the efforts of Mr. Neziah Bliss, of Green-Point; and was soon transferred to Mr. Shepard Knapp, being now held by G. Lee Knapp. The Twenty-Third street route was established in 1857, and held by St. Patrick’s Cathedral, per G. Lee Knapp. Rent of the Tenth street ferry, $1,300, and of the Twenty-Third street, $600 per annum, both expiring in 1874.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

It’s not the facts of the Ferry or Streetcar that make me curious, of course.

What I’ve been wondering about lately is how the ethnic neighborhoods in the boroughs came to be. Everybody started in Manhattan on the Lower East Side, yet the Jews of Bayard Street and the Italians of Mulberry found a path to Williamsburg and Greenpoint (Tenth Street Ferry?), while the Catholic Germans found their way to Ridgewood and Astoria (86th Street Ferry?). The Irish were everywhere, but made colonies of Woodside and Rockaway.

What natural synergies drew large populations of ethnic brethren to these neighborhoods?

Work was certainly a factor (garment and stone industries in the industrial mills of Newtown Creek and Williamsburg, etc.), but I’m wondering if it wasn’t the lost Ferry and Streetcar connections which allowed and encouraged these ethnic populations to agglutinate.

from “The Sun’s guide to New York” in 1892 courtesy google books

Tenth Street Ferry Branch (color cream): Runs from foot Chambers St., cor. West (ferry to Pavonia Ave., Jersey City and Erie R. R. Depot), through West to Charlton, to Prince, to Bowery, to Pitt St., to Ave. C, to foot E. 10th St. (Tenth St. Ferry to Greenpoint Ave., Brooklyn), returning by E. 10th St., to Ave. D, to E. llth St., to Ave. C, to E. 3d St., to 1st Ave., to Houston St., to West, to Chambers, cor. West.

Written by Mitch Waxman

June 28, 2011 at 12:51 am

June 6th, Magic Lantern Show at Greater Astoria Historical Society

leave a comment »

Metropolitan Avenue Bridge, English Kills – photo by Mitch Waxman

I’ve neglected to inform you all of the Magic Lantern Show which this, your Newtown Pentacle, is staging at the Greater Astoria Historical Society on Monday, June 6th at 7pm. There won’t be any archaic museum pieces in use, of course- my magic lantern is all digital and uses a standard and quite modern projector- but the concept is much the same. A photographer captures some hellish reality from the wild and shadowed corners of the world, and presents them with the intention of revealing hidden truths to a comfortable and otherwise wholesome audience who would never encounter this reality otherwise.

from a Newtown Pentacle post of April 13th, 2011

Just under an hour long, this Magic Lantern Show about Newtown Creek is personally narrated, and transports the viewer to every corner of the Newtown Creek- every tributary and street end, on the water and above it, and is presented in the idiosyncratic and off beat manner which has become familiar to regular readers of this- your Newtown Pentacle. It attempts to explain certain core questions in under an hour which have been repeatedly presented to me over the last couple of years, and the entire talk is illustrated with both my own photography and the product of my historical research:

  • What exactly do you mean by the “Newtown Pentacle”?
  • When did the Newtown Creek begin to matter?
  • Why should I care, how does the Newtown Creek affect me, as I live in Manhattan?
  • Where exactly is this place?
  • Who is responsible for this mess, and exactly who is it that’s going to clean it up?
  • How can I get involved and help my community revitalize and or restore the Newtown Creek?

Empire State Building rising over industrial Brooklyn and Newtown Creek – photo by Mitch Waxman

It would probably be “politique” to mention that this is not a Newtown Creek Alliance event, which is one of the many organizations which I’ve become affiliated and identified with. Instead this is purely a Newtown Pentacle show, which the studied philosophs who inhabit the upper echelons of the Greater Astoria Historical Society are allowing me to present in their convenient location on Astoria’s Broadway- stumbling distance from the R,M, and N trains. The efficacy of gambling their precious time and effort upon such a poor specimen as myself would be proven by the event being well attended, and the negligible $5 fee at the door should prove an easy burden for most to bear. Therefore, a narrator humbly invites and requests your support and attendance.

from astorialic.org

Mon Jun 6, 7:00 pm

Travel the length and breadth of Americas most polluted waterway, the Newtown Creek, with newtownpentacle.com‘s Mitch Waxman.

Breathtaking photography illustrates the journey, exploring the various tributaries and discussing the industrial history of New York City‘s least known waterway.

Witty and irreverent, the narration describes Waxman‘s own discovery of this place and the fantastic journey it has taken him on.

Question and Answer period follows.

DUKBO, Down Under the Kosciuszko Bridge Onramp – photo by Mitch Waxman

The actual presentation is just over a hour long, and during it, you’ll travel the length and breadth of the Newtown Creek- every tributary and bridge, each keystone of historical import will be illustrated with both personal experience and historical meaning. For those of you new to the story of the Newtown Creek (or the neighborhood) this will make a fine primer. Attempts will be made by your humble narrator to reveal this willfully hidden place, and introduce the uninitiated to the hellish flames of revelation which only the Newtown Creek can offer.

Greenpoint Avenue Bridge over Newtown Creek – photo by Mitch Waxman

The places I go, the things I see… often strain credulity. This is not the world you know, this 3.8 mile long waterway located directly across the East River from Manhattan’s Bellevue Psychiatric Hospital which provides the currently undefended border of Brooklyn and Queens. If it can happen, it has happened here, and if it happened here it happened worse and grander than anywhere else it ever happened. Come visit the night soil and offal dock, hear the stories of the great men- Bliss and Kingsland and Flowers and Degnon and Cooper. This is the place where the Industrial Revolution actually happened, where the death of nature itself was accomplished, and our modern world was born.

Welcome to the Newtown Creek, poison heart of the Newtown Pentacle…