20 December 2007

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

As shown from the biography last week of Capt. John Hewson, Kensington had a role in the American Revolution. Besides Hewson’s diary that exists and recounts his Revolutionary War experiences, there is also other evidence that exists, contemporary diaries and maps that illustrates Kensington role during the American Revolution.

There are letters that exist of Elizabeth Farmer, writing to a relict at the time when the British Army occupied Philadelphia in 1777. Farmer lived at the old Bower Mansion, previously located at Frankford & Norris. Her letters describe “picquets” of the British and American soldiers skirmishing outside her house and stealing her fence for firewood.

In Robert Morton’s diary of 22 November 1777, Morton tells us that the British “set fire to Fair Hill Mansion…and many others…. The reason they assign for this destruction of property is on account of the Americans firing from these houses and harassing their Picquets.”

The Fairhill Mansion was the Norris estate, then held by John Dickinson and located at today’s 7^th & York Streets. Americans were using it for cover while taking pot shots at the British scouts. Besides Fairhill, many other buildings in the countryside of Kensington were burnt and destroyed by the British, as well as businesses along the riverfront, like Peter Browne’ smith shop and the Eyre brothers’ shipyard. .

Morton’s diary also mentions the British defense works that they built across the northern border of the city, running roughly along where Poplar Street is today, from the Schuylkill to the Delaware River. There were “ten redoubts, connected by strong palisades.” The eastern most point of this line was a small British fort, located on the riverbank of the Delaware, between Frankford Avenue and Shackamaxon Street.

The British General John G. Simcoe, who commanded the British troops in the Kensington area, posted some men near the famous Treaty Tree, so that no one would chop it down for firewood. From October of 1777, Simcoe’s journal reports on the events:

“The village of Kensington was several times attacked by the rebel patrolling parties; they could come by means of the woods very near to it undiscovered; there was a road over a small creek to Point-no-Point; to defend this a house was made musket proof, and the bridge taken up; cavalry only approached to this post, for it lying, as has been mentioned, in an angle between the Delaware and the Frankfort road, infantry were liable to be cut off; on the left there was a knoll that overlooked the country; this was the post of the piquet in the daytime, but corn fields high enough to conceal the approach of an enemy reached to its basis; sentinels from hence inclined to the left and joined those of Colonel Twistleton’s light infantry of the guards, so that this hill projected forward, and on that account was ordered by Sir William Erskine not to be defended if attacked in force, and it was withdrawn at night….At night the corps was drawn back to the houses nearer Philadelphia, and guards were placed behind breastworks, made by heaping up the fences in such points as commanded the avenues to the village; (which was laid out and enclosed in right angles) these were themselves overlooked by others that constituted the alarm post of the different companies. Fires also were made in particular places before the piquet, to discover whatsoever should approach. Before day the whole corps was under arms, and remained so till the piquets returned to their day post, which they resumed, taking every precaution against ambuscades; the light infantry of the guards advanced their piquets at the same time, and Colonel Twistleton was an admirable pattern for attention and spirit, to all who served with him.”

Simcoe’s description of his northern defensive positions in Kensington is well illustrated in a contemporary map by drawn by Pierre Nicole in about November of 1777. Nicole’s map clearly shows the British defense lines across the northern part of Philadelphia, as well as their defensive positions on the northern side of the Cohocksink Creek, Kensington’s historic southern border. In particular the “British Fort #1” is found on Nicole’s map and is located at what looks to be the exact site of where the Sugarhouse Casino is scheduled to be built. For a look at the map, you can find it at the following Library of Congress website: http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.gmd/g3824p.ar302200

What with the Casino coming under attack by half the neighborhood, perhaps instead of the Sugarhouse Casino, it should be called, “Fort Casino.”

17 January 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

If you have been asleep for the past week or so, you might not have noticed it, but there is another round of drama going on down at the Sugarhouse site. After Mayor John Street’s last minute permit of January 4th (given out in his last day of office) allowing the Sugarhouse to start grading the site in preparation for construction, the Pennsylvania Historical Museum Commission (PHMC) issued a stop work order on January 7^th in a letter telling Keating, the developer, not to grade the site until after the Section 106 process is over.

While not an expert in the legal matters of the law, it is my understanding that the Section 106 process is the process whereby archaeological investigation must be done on sites where there is federal money involved, or where there might be a historically or culturally rich area, or in the case of the Sugarhouse site, where the project will be projecting out on the river, which brings in the Army Corps of Engineers.

The 106 process has a meeting scheduled for January 18^th, where Sugarhouse reps, PHMC, the Army Corps of Engineers, Marble & Co. (the archaeology firm doing the historical investigations on the site) will meet with consulting parties (neighborhood groups, preservation groups, archaeology groups, etc.) and hash out if there needs to be further archaeological investigations done on this site.

It appears that PHMC may have been swayed by some of the recent research evidence carried out by the “History Boys,” an informal group of local history enthusiasts who were given that moniker by Inquirer reporter Dan Rubin. The group includes yours truly, as well as local resident Torben Jenk, a number of members of the Oliver Evans Chapter of the Society for Industrial Archeology and people like Dr. Bob Selig, a nationally known historian of the American Revolution. As well, many others have gotten on board with the project.

Local media picked up the story and it is starting to spread with great interest. First, we mentioned it here at the Star, in a couple of my columns last month, then the Philadelphia Inquirer’s Dan Rubin wrote about it in the Inquirer on January 10^th. That night Channel 10 (NBC) picked it up and talked about it and that was followed by another January 11^th Inquirer story that was run about PHMC issuing the work stop order until the Section 106 process was complete.

Casino representatives seem to dismiss the history of this Revolutionary War Fort as if it was just another ploy in the arsenal of anti-casino activists, like the red-bellied turtle, or the ground being an American Indian site (which in fact it is as evidenced by Native American artifacts, the relics of perhaps a summer camp, found recently in Marble & Co’s preliminary 2^nd report), however the casino folks are far from the truth.

The only reason that the Fort is being made a hot topic right now by the “History Boys,” is that the “Boys” were appalled at the lack of any mention of the British Fort by the archaeology firm hired by Sugarhouse, A.D. Marble & Co. in their report titled, Phase 1B Management Summary Report and dated October 2007. This report only recently came into our hands and while being a full 87 pages long, it makes not one mention of this strategic and important Revolutionary War Fort.

It was only after this report was issued that the History Boys got involved. If you look at the record, you’ll be hard pressed to find the History Boys involved in the anti-casino effort, that group is a whole other group of concerned citizens and that topic is a whole other issue, which is not related to the history of Philadelphia’s occupation by the British Army during the Revolutionary War, an event that forced Washington’s famous camping at Valley Forge.

To show that the History Boys had already known the Fort for some time, one only has to read Rich Remer’s article, “Old Kensington,” where he wrote about the Fort being located in Kensington. This article was published in November 2002, when the Kensington History Project (Rich Remer, Torben Jenk, and yours truly) published five articles in the Historical Society of Pennsylvania’s Pennsylvania Legacies magazine. The Fort has always been there in the historical record for those that want to see it and the fact that Marble & Co. did not early on see the Fort is the part that was found to be truly odd by the History Boys, as one would think that the historical documentation part of the archaeology dig would be done first, before you ever put a shovel in the ground.

It’s hard to imagine even with all the industrial history that took place on the site over the last couple of hundred years including the blowing up and demolishing of the Sugar Refinery, that nothing of the Fort would be left, since the Fort in all likelihood would have been buried under ground, as most things over 200 years old usually are.

The fort was not a little tree house with a couple of guys sitting in it waiting for action. It was rather substantial, measuring roughly 120 feet square and there were plenty of skirmishes where American and British soldiers were killed and wounded, including some local citizenry.

To put the Fort in perspective, it would have sat on a plot of land that would have been a little smaller then Palmer Park, but slightly bigger then Old Brick Church, or almost the size of Penn Home (to give just a couple of local landmarks as reference points).

The Fort had a moat circled around it that was about five-foot deep and was fed by the high tide of the Delaware River. Above the moat there was a row of 12 foot long Chevaux-de-frises that surrounded the Fort on all sides. The Chevaux-de-frises were defensive measures, made up of tree trunks, sharpened to a point, pointing out towards your enemy and was used as an extra line of defense. After the Chevaux-de-frises there was the Fort’s walls, built of earth and probably timber and standing about six feet tall. Inside the Fort there was a fortified building, measuring approximately 20 feet by 40 feet with walls about 7 ½ feet tall and a pitched roof that measured almost 12 feet tall.

The fortified building instead the Fort appears to have looked like what one would think a barracks might look like, which brings me to another point. The Queen’s Rangers regiment was stationed at this Fort for almost a full ten months. It was their headquarters. There were at times 430 men in the regiment, thus that many troops must have left some sign of their presence behind them when they left and when they did leave, they would appear to have left from the nearby wharves in Kensington.

Besides the Fort, there was also an artillery battery just south of the Fort, perhaps ten feet or so at most. The battery measured about 60 feet wide and sat right on the banks of the Delaware River. It appears to have been manned by several pieces of artillery and faced the Delaware River, helping to prevent an advance by water. It also appears to have been able to have been used to protect advances on the local roads coming down from the north as well.

The British military took possession of Philadelphia on September 26^th, 1777. By September 28^th, less then two days later, it was reported that the Battery at Kensington (the one mentioned just above) was finished. This would seem to point to the importance of Kensington as being “the” strategic position to defend Philadelphia from the north, as Kensington was positioned where the main roads to the north and northeast parts of the county were located.

The British built a series of ten forts along the northern side of Philadelphia from the Delaware River to the Schuylkill River, roughly along the current Poplar Street. The British had actually improved on designs that had already been in place by the Americans in which the Americans started to carry out, but were forced to abandon and flee when the English took the city. The series of forts were connected by an abatis, a defense formed by placing felled trees lengthwise, one over the other and interconnected, with their branches facing the enemy.

On September 29^th, 1777, British engineers began to mark out the defenses and by the 3^rd of October, local inhabitants were employed to build the fortifications. There was talk that American prisoners of war were used in the building of the Fort at Kensington, but after following up on the information sent to him by John Hancock, General Washington does not appear to have found any evidence of it.

Front & Laurel Streets became the main entrance to enter Philadelphia from the north. It was at Front & Laurel that Front Street forked with one road going north to Germantown (Germantown Avenue) and the other two roads going northeast to Kensington (Richmond Street) and Frankford (Frankford Avenue). These were the three main roads for supplies and/or travel in and out of the city. The Queen’s Rangers, made up of Loyalists, appear to have been stationed in this area since as Loyalists (Americans), they might better know who to trust to let into the city and who to not, much more so then foreign troops like the Hessian (Germans) or British (English).

Running east on a line with Laurel Street between the Fort at Kensington and the fortified entrance at Front & Laurel Streets, there was a series of abates and three man redans, redans being a defensive fortification that has two parapets whose faces unite so as to form a salient angle toward the enemy.

And so it was for almost a full ten months, from September 26^th, 1777 to June 17^th, 1778, the city of Philadelphia was English again and Kensington was occupied by the Queen’s Rangers. The British appear to have occupied Philadelphia perhaps as more of a winter quarters for their army, then for any real strategic importance, although taking the largest city in the colonies had to have some effect on the American cause.

The British occupation forced Washington to camp at Valley Forge where his men froze during that much told story of a brutal winter. Washington probed the northern defensive fortifications of Philadelphia, but found them too strong to amount an attack on the city and thus while Washington’s Army froze at Valley Forge, Howe’s Army put up in heated brick homes with plenty of food and had the leisure to attend balls and concerts. As Hal Schimer (one of the History Boys) said, this is “the missing half of Valley Forge, the other half of the story.”

It is because of the importance of this Fort’s history to the story of American Independence, that the History Boys ask Marble & Co. and the Sugarhouse Casino, and our city and state’s trusted servants, to do a thorough investigation of this site. As Dr. Bob Selig (a History Boy) said,” this is the last chance to do it.” After the casino is built, there will be no other chance. To quote Torben Jenk (another History Boy), “The Patriots lived at Valley Forge, they fought and died in Kensington at Fort #1.”

24 January 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

Someone asked me the other day, if it was known that a British Revolutionary War fort use to occupy the Sugarhouse site, then why didn’t it come to the public’s attention sooner? Why now?

That’s a good question and the answer is simple. The fort is making the news now because Marble & Co., the archaeology firm hired to investigate the site by the Sugarhouse’s developer, did not mention the fort in their first two initial reports, titled 1A & 1B, an odd occurrence for a company hired to historically investigate the site. It was this event that prompted the latest round of talk about it in the media.

The fort was not a little known fact, as the historical record has literally hundreds of sources that document its existence.

I thought it might be good idea to pen a few paragraphs to help folks visualize just what the fort looked like and what the media is talking about. This picture is taken from a contemporary map of the fort.

The fort was not a little tree house with a couple of guys sitting in it waiting for action. It was rather substantial, measuring roughly 120 feet square and there were plenty of skirmishes in and around it where American and British soldiers were killed and wounded, including a local citizen of Kensington, Michael Christ, who was shot and killed while going to fetch water from a well.

It would have sat on a plot of land that would have been a little smaller then Palmer Park, but slightly bigger then Old Brick Church, or almost the size of Penn Home (to give just a couple of local landmarks as reference points).

The fort had a moat circled around it that was about five-foot deep and was fed by the high tide of the Delaware River. Above the moat there was a row of 12-foot long palisade or fraise that surrounded the fort on all sides. A “palisade or fraise" were defensive measures, made up of tree trunks, sharpened to a point, pointing out towards your enemy and was used as an extra line of defense. After the palisade or fraise, there were the fort’s walls, built of earth and supported by timber and standing at least six feet tall. Inside the fort there was a fortified barracks, measuring approximately 20 feet by 40 feet with walls about 7 ½ feet tall and a pitched roof that measured almost 12 feet tall.

The Brit’s Queen’s Rangers regiment was stationed at this fort for almost a full ten months. They were Loyalist troops and it was their headquarters. There were at times 430 men in the regiment, thus it is hopeful that that many troops might leave some sign of their presence behind them during a ten-month encampment.

Besides the fort, there was also an artillery battery just south of the fort, perhaps ten feet or so at most. The battery measured about 60 feet wide and sat right on the banks of the Delaware River. It appears to have been manned by a 12-pound canon and a howitzer and faced the Delaware River, helping to prevent an advance by water. It also appears to have been able to be used to protect advances on the local roads (Germantown, Frankford, & Richmond) coming down from the north as well.

Once the British took possession of Philadelphia, they built a series of ten forts along the northern side of Philadelphia from the Delaware River to the Schuylkill River, roughly along the current Poplar Street. The one at the Sugarhouse site was Fort #1, the main one. Fort #2 at Front & Laurel Streets was the main entrance to the city from the north. The series of forts were connected by an abatis, a defense formed by placing felled trees lengthwise, one over the other and interconnected, with their branches facing the enemy.

And so it was from September 26^th, 1777 to June 17^th, 1778, the city of Philadelphia was English again and Kensington was occupied by the Queen’s Rangers, while Washington was forced to freeze at Valley Forge.

31 January 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

My continuing historical research on the property where Sugarhouse Casino is proposing to build their casino, has shown that not only was their a British Revolutionary War fort built on this site, but that there was also a famous shipyard and an equally famous enterprise called “The Kensington Screw Dock,” which had as two of its initial investors James Mott, husband of abolitionist and women’s rights advocate Lucretia Mott, as well as Lucretia’s brother.

Samuel Bower (1760-1834) was internationally known as a shipbuilder during his Kensington shipyard’s existence from the 1780’s to the 1820’s when it built and repaired 379 vessels of all sorts of description, with some ships as large as 470 tons.

Bowers’ property had a 150 foot front on the east side of Penn Street, starting at 190 feet north of the north side of Laurel (Maiden) Street, with parallel north & south borders that ran from the east side of Penn Street into the Delaware River, or about near smack dab in the middle of the Sugarhouse site, an area not investigated by the archaeology report 1B of Marble & Co.

Many of Bowers’ new ships were built for the China and East Indian trade. His work was of such quality that during the Napoleonic Wars the Spanish government offered him the position of chief naval constructor.

After Bower retired he sold his shipyard property in 1830 to Thomas M. Coffin, Lucretia Mott’s brother, who with a group of investors, built the Kensington Screw Dock and Spermaceti Works.

The Screw Dock was built about the years 1830-1831 and incorporated soon after as witnessed in the 1832-33 year’s session of the Pennsylvania legislature, which according to the official record the following men were the commissioners:

“That JAMES MOTT, WESTERN C. DONALDSON, SAMUEL C. BUNTING, THOMAS W. MORGAN, JACOB T. BUNTING, WILLIAM FENNELL JR., THOMAS S. RICHARDS, THOMAS M. COFFIN, and JONATHAN PALMER, are hereby appointed commissioners of the Kensington Screw Dock Company.”

Looking at this list of men who were to start up the Screw Dock and raise the initial capital, we see the names of James Mott and Thomas M. Coffin. James Mott was the husband of Lucretia Mott, while Thomas M. Coffin was her brother.

Lucretia Mott (1793-1880) was born at Nantucket and died in Philadelphia. She is buried at the historic Fairhill Cemetery (still open) located at 9^th & Cambria Streets.

Lucretia Mott became active in the mid-19^th century anti-slavery issues and the women’s rights movements. She organized the Philadelphia Female Anti-Slavery Society in 1833 and worked on the Underground Railroad. She was closely associated with Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony and was one of the organizers of the now famous 1848 Seneca Falls Convention out of which the women’s rights movement was born. She was also a minister in the Society of Friends (Quakers).

Lucretia’s father was Thomas Coffin, a master mariner of Nantucket, who later moved to Boston, before coming to Philadelphia where he died in 1815. On Lucretia Mott’s mother’s side of the family, her 3^rd Great Grandfather’s sister (Abiah Folger) was the mother of Benjamin Franklin.

Lucretia’s father Thomas Coffin had a business opportunity in Philadelphia that brought the family to this city. Lucretia married her teacher James Mott and joined the family in Philadelphia. James Mott went into business with Lucretia’s father, but her father died rather suddenly, so Mott then entered the cotton trade, then the wool trade, and invested in the Kensington Screw Dock and through these businesses gained a competency that allowed him and his wife to pursue their travels and advocacies in the women rights & abolitionist movements. Who would have ever thought that the Kensington investments of Mott would have helped the famous couple to gain a competence that allowed them to do the work that they became famous for the world over.

The Kensington Screw Dock was in existence from about 1830 through to the early 1880’s, when it was purchased by John Hilgert & Sons, a sugar refinery, whose operation was moved from the 1000 block of 5^th Street, to the Screw Dock site. Soon after moving to the river, Hilgert’s sugar refinery was taken over by The Pennsylvania Sugar Refining Company, which was later taken over by the National Sugar Refining Company, which the neighborhood knew as Jack Frost and which finally closed in 1982.

The Kensington Screw Dock & Spermaceti Works is too good a story to pass up, so next week’s column will take a closer look at just what a “Screw Dock” was and how did a “Spermaceti Works,” wind up in Fishtown?

7 February 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

As promised, this week I will let you know about another chapter in the history of the Sugarhouse Casino site, The Kensington Screw Dock Company. Founded in 1830, the screw dock throughout its almost fifty year history, was run by several different entities. Besides being able to repair ships, The Kensington Screw Dock also had a Spermaceti Works, a business that turns the Spermaceti of the Sperm Whale into candles, lighting oil, and other products.

In a newspaper advertisement of December 1833, we find the following description of the screw dock:

“Kensington Screw Dock, situated on Penn-street, Kensington, containing in front on said Penn-st. 150 feet, and containing that width into the river Delaware; together with all the improvements, consisting of a new brick building, 50 feet square, with all the machinery therein contained, forming the most complete establishment in the country for the manufacture of sperm oil and candles; a frame building 75 feet by 20 feet, both fronting on Penn-street. Also, blacksmith’s shop, tool house, stable and coach-house, carpenters’ shed, &c.; together with the screw dock, in complete order, and which has been in successful operation for the last two years, having raised during this time one hundred and fifty sail, from canal boats to ships of 600 tons burthen.

The description shows that by December of 1833, the company had already been in operation for at least two years.

In general, the way a screw dock worked is that a “vessel would be floated on to a timber platform, which is suspended from strong mainway pieces of beams on each side, laid on the quay walls, by 8 suspending screws of about 4 ½ inches in diameter.” The platform is capable of being sunk far enough below the surface of the water, to receive the ship. The platform has “several shores on its surface, which are brought to bear equally on the vessel’s bottom, to prevent her from canting over on being raised out of the water.” About 30 men are employed in working this apparatus, who, “by the combined power of the lever, wheel and pinion, and screw, are able in the course of half an hour to raise the platform, laden with a vessel… to the surface of the water, where she remains high and dry, suspended between the wooden frames.”

Many of these ships that came to the Kensington Screw Dock to get repaired were whaling ships. It sounds odd that Kensington, or even Philadelphia, would have a whaling history, but it did.

The Spermaceti Works that was set up at the Kensington Screw Dock allowed for ships to bring the spermaceti of the Sperm Whale directly to the screw dock, thus saving the time required in having to go back to New Bedford (MA) to have it refined, put in barrels, then shipped to Philadelphia for sale.

The whaling ship could dock at the screw dock in Kensington, unload its cargo, and have any repairs it needed done, then ship right back out to sea on another expedition, while the spermaceti would be refined and barreled right at the screw dock.

Spermaceti, or “head matter” of the Sperm Whale, was the prize product of the Sperm Whale. It is a liquid waxy substance present in the head cavities of the Sperm Whale. The spermaceti would be gathered from the head of the whale while the ships were at sea. An incision would be made into the head of the Sperm Whale and the oil would be bucketed out. In some cases, it was necessary for someone to have to climb into the head of the whale to collect the oil. As much as three tons of spermaceti might be extracted from a single large whale.

In the days before electricity, spermaceti was used to make candles and oil for lighting. Since spermaceti had a high burning point, burned cleanly and brightly, and since it did not smell when burned, it was considered a very valuable product. It was also used for sizing in wool combing, as a medical ointment, and in leather tanning and cosmetics.

The Kensington Screw Dock & Spermaceti Works lasted from 1830 to about 1881-82, when it was purchased by John Hilgert & Sons, a sugar refiner, who converted the old place into a sugar refinery, the first sugar refinery on the Sugarhouse Casino site. The various apparatus and machinery necessary for sugar refining and spermaceti refining made it a natural fit for sugar refining to take over the old spermaceti operation.

14 February 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

For the past month I have been writing about the history of the Sugarhouse site. We have seen how the British built a fort there during the American Revolution and how that site played a key role in the British defensive fortifications when they occupied Philadelphia from September 1777 to June 1778 and forced Washington to camp at Valley Forge.

After the British left Philadelphia and after the Revolutionary War was over, that area of Kensington was then developed further. The Sugarhouse site saw the shipyard of Samuel Bower, a world-renowned shipbuilder whose services was sought after by the Spanish government.

After Bower’s shipyard, in 1830, the Kensington Screw Dock and Spermaceti Works were built. From 1830 to the early 1880s there was a fifty-year plus history of whaling ships being repaired and built in Kensington, as well as spermaceti oil of the Sperm Whale, being refined and sent to market for candles, oil lamps, cosmetics, etc. The family of famed abolitionist and women’s rights advocate Lucretia Mott, were early investors in this spermaceti works.

Once the days of the Kensington Screw Dock were over, John Hilgert & Sons took over the site and moved their Girard Sugarhouse to the property, converting the old spermaceti works into a sugar refinery. The subsequent refineries that took over the site (Pennsylvania Sugar in 1883 & National Sugar in 1947) brought on a one hundred year history of sugar production in Fishtown.

The history of the site since 1984, the year sugar production was halted, has been one of abandonment, toxic waste, and a failed implosion that took place in 1997. Since that time it has been cleared and remains an empty lot. The last couple of years have seen a proposal for a casino to be built.

It wasn’t just a fluke that the British happened to occupy this site during the Revolution. It appears the Sugarhouse site had always held a strategic importance, going back to ancient times, due to the confluence of major roads and river travel routes.

It turns out that this area of Fishtown was always strategic for Native Americans. Three ancient routes of the Lenni Lenape all converged on this site. The ancient Indian trails of Germantown and Frankford Roads, as well as an old ferry system of canoes, connected Shackamaxon to the other Lenape settlements in the Delaware Valley.

The archaeological investigations that have been conducted thus far on the Sugarhouse site have found an intact ancient Native American site, dating back to about 1500 B.C. There are only four Native American sites that have ever been identified in the inner city (the heavily built up area) of Philadelphia and with this site being so close to William Penn’s famed Treaty with the Indians (Penn Treaty Park), this site offers a unique opportunity to not only understand the history of the Native Americans before the Europeans arrived, the “precontact period,” but to also understand the fifty plus years of the “contact period,” when the Europeans lived side by side with the Native Americans.

Before William Cooper ever started his ferry from Camden to Shackamaxon, the Lenape had already had in place a canoe ferry from their Arasapha settlement on the Jersey shore to Shackamaxon. This fact is recorded in several books, including George R. Prowell’s mammoth History of Camden County, which states, “Intercourse between Shackamaxon, where the pioneers of Penn’s colony, under Fairman, the surveyor, and Markham, the deputy-governor, and Pyne Point [Camden County] had long been established by canoe ferry between the Indian settlements at those places….”

Prowell goes on to say that William Cooper (who took over this Lenape ferry after the arrival of the Europeans) was “present at the treaty of Penn with the Indians in 1682, at Shackamaxon, opposite his house.” Cooper’s ferry house at Pyne Point still survives and one can see it in the distance from the Delaware River shore at the Sugarhouse site.

The ferry between the New Jersey side of the river, where the Native Americans originally had a settlement at Camden called Arasapha, and a point on the Sugarhouse site at Shackamaxon Street landing, lasted throughout much of the history of this site. Much later, the Kensington and New Jersey Ferry Company was organized in 1866, by local shipbuilders William Cramp, Jacob Neafie, and others. They operated a ferry between Camden and Shackamaxon Street. The company began operating its first boat, the "Shackamaxon," on July 28, 1866.

The Sugarhouse site was a main intersection for three ancient routes of the Native Americans. Is it any wonder then that only four inches underground the archaeologists have found American Indian artifacts? The whole Fishtown community should call for a complete investigation of this site.

28 February 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

The Section 106 process can sometimes be seen as a complicated affair, however it is actually quite simple and a straightforward process. Under certain circumstances, the federal government mandates that archaeological investigations be completed at sites where development may have an impact on cultural or historical resources. The idea is to dig up what is there and record it before it is covered over by new development.

It is rare that a Section 106 process ever stops a development project; at most it might slow it down. Unless there is some unforeseen find, the archaeology work should have no effect on the developer’s timeline, as a good developer factors the time involved into the schedule of the project.

The consulting parties to the Section 106 process on the SugarHouse Casino site are a mixed group, all with their own concerns. They range from folks like John Connors, the founder of the Penn Treaty Park Museum (www.penntreatymuseum.org), whose concern is how the proposed casino will affect Penn Treaty Park, to Maya K. van Rossum who represents the nonprofit group The Delaware River Keeper, a group that advocates for the entire Delaware River watershed.

The Delaware Nation, who once inhabited the Delaware Valley, is being representing in the process by Kerry Holton (President), Tamara Francis (Cultural Preservation Directory) and her assistant Somier Harris. The Delawares once had their capital at Shackamaxon, but are now based in Anadarko, Oklahoma. Their concerns are primarily that 200 or so Native American artifacts have been found so far.

Two other members of the consulting party are Hilary Ragan, representing the civic group, Northern Liberties Neighbors Association, and Jeremy Beaudry, representing the non-profit group Neighbors Allied for the Best Riverfront. Ragan is on record as wanting to relocate the casino (Philadelphia Inquirer, “Nutter Revokes Casino’s License,” by Marcia Gelbert); as well Jeremy Beaudy has been photographed at anti-casino events carrying anti-casino signs (hallwatch.org website has photo of May 21^st, 2006 Anti-Foxwood Casino Rally).

Other members of the consulting party are folks that you would expect on an archaeological dig in Philadelphia, The Preservation Alliance and the Philadelphia Historical Commission. These downtown organizations rarely get into the neighborhoods, so it’s great to have them join in a dig that is this rich for cultural and historical resources of Kensington and Fishtown.

The professional archaeology community is represented in the Section 106 process, with representatives of the Pennsylvania Archaeological Council and the Philadelphia Archaeological Forum. Both of these organizations have already responded to the Army Corps of Engineers with critical letters about the work carried out in Marble & Co.’s 1A and 1B Reports (I have copies of these letters). They have not yet responded to the 1BII Report, which Marble & Co, recently issued a month late.

Torben Jenk makes up the last member of the consulting party. Torben is a 25 year resident of South Kensington. By profession he is a builder, having restored hundreds of 18^th & 19^th Century structures throughout Philadelphia and its suburbs. Mr. Jenk is one of the founders (along with Rich Remer and myself) of the Kensington History Project (KHP), an informal local history group founded in 1996 when they collaborated with Dr. Harry Silcox on the book Kensington History: Stories and Memories. After the publication of that book, the group continued to meet, conducting research, lecturing, and publishing on the history of Fishtown and Kensington. Jenk’s excellent website is the best on the Internet for Philadelphia’s industrial past: www.workshopoftheworld.com

Last week’s Star (February 21, page 5) ran a piece titled, “You Should Know.” It mentioned that I was a member of “a research team aiding a consulting party that is providing comment on a required archaeological dig at the proposed SugarHouse Casino property.” However, the disclosure was not full enough, as it could have been taken to mean I was working for any of a number of consulting parties listed above.

Let the record state that I am working with my fellow founder of the KHP, Torben Jenk. We are a community-based group that takes neither a pro nor con stance towards casino construction, any comments to the contrary are false and can be construed to be a malicious attempt to discredit our findings. The KHP has worked together collaboratively long before casinos were ever mentioned for our community. For 13 years they have been revealing the rich history of Fishtown and Kensington not only to our neighbors, but also to folks across the city and country.

Because of the historical significance of the Sugarhouse site, Hal Schirmer, Denis Cooke, Dr. Robert Selig, and others are assisting the KHP. All have an interest in the American Revolution, with Dr. Selig being a professional historian who is nationally recognized in the field (www.xenophongroup.com/vita/selig/selig.htm).

6 March 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

Since the 17^th Century, historians and linguists have argued over the origins of the word Shackamaxon. The earliest mention of Shackamaxon appears to be by Peter Lindstrom, a 17^th Century Swedish explorer, who sailed down the Delaware River compiling a survey of the Delaware Valley in 1654-55. At this time, Lindstrom titled the Lenni Lenape settlement at Shackamaxon on his map as “Kacamensi.”

Lindstrom’s map was reprinted in a 1925 translation of his work called Geographia Americae, with an account of the Delaware Indians based on Surveys and Notes made in 1654-1655. The work is an interesting piece, particularly for the “contact period” when Native Americans and Europeans were living side by side.

Some think Shackamaxon to be derived from “shachamek, shakamik, or w’shackamek,” which literally means “it is a straight fish,” an eel. The suffix “ink” or in this case “mek or “mik” is said to mean “at or where,” hence Shackamaxon would mean “at the place of eels.” Since eels were plentiful in the Delaware River, the meaning had some substance. However, there is a larger group who has seemed to win the argument. They have placed Shackamaxon as being derived from “sakima, sachemen,” meaning “chief, or king” and with the suffix “ink” meaning “at , or where,” hence Shackamaxon would be translated as “where the kings are,” or “at the meeting place of kings.”

This later definition would appear to hold more weight, particularly when looking at the history of Shackamaxon, as it is the place where the chiefs did meet in 1682. Tammanend, the head sachem of the Turtle Clan of the Unami tribe of the Lenni Lenape, made his “treaty of amity and friendship” with William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania. It was an event that is memorialized by today’s Penn Treaty Park.

Tammanend belonged to the Native American peoples called the Lenni Lenape. There were three groups within the Lenape. The northernmost group of the Lenapes, the Munsee group, occupied the area where the Delaware River begins, or where Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York come together.

The Unami, the central group of Tammanend, occupied the northern region and central New Jersey, and the adjoining portions of eastern Pennsylvania woodland along the Delaware River and parts inland. The Unami southern border reached to an area just below the future city of Philadelphia.

The southern most group, the Unalactigo, inhabited both sides of the lower Delaware River below Philadelphia including the Delaware Bay area and what would currently be northern Delaware, southeast Pennsylvania, and south Jersey.

Besides the Lenape being made up of three territorial groups, there were also three different matrilineal clans that were present in the groups; the Turtle, Wolf, and Turkey. The Turtle Clan was the most important and usually the sachem, or chief of the tribal councils was from this clan and thus Tamanend was the tribal council leader and it was he who treated with William Penn, at the Lenape’s capital of Shackamaxon. Hopefully the recent archaeological investigations at the SugarHouse site will help us to find out more about the original inhabitants of our neighborhood.

Today the name of Shackamaxon has all but disappeared. Fishtown still has a street honoring that ancient Lenape settlement of Shackamaxon and while Shackamaxon Street today runs from Frankford Avenue to the Delaware River, butting up against the SugarHouse Casino site, it wasn’t always that way.

Shackamaxon Street was originally cut out only from Frankford Avenue to Richmond Street, the rest of the way being private land. Shackamaxon Street probably represents one of the oldest streets in Fishtown. There is some evidence that it actually may have been called “Greenwood Lane,” after an early property owner, before changing to Shackamaxon.

Shackamaxon Street dates to at least the 1750’s, as Rich Remer, one of the founders of the Kensington History Project and a colleague of mine, dates his original ancestry back to the 1000 block of Shackamaxon. The homes at 1028 and 1030 Shackamaxon were the original homes of his ancestor, Godfrey Remer, who emigrated from the Rhineland as a teenager. Godfrey occupied these homes by the 1760s and 1770s and Remer reports that they were built in the 1750’s.

The homes sit next to I-95 and were lucky to survive the bulldozing of the neighborhood when I-95 was built. Anthony Garvan’s Philadelphia Historic Salvage Project documented Fishtown with various archaeological studies during this time. Altogether, Garvan conducted studies from Palmer Street down to South Philadelphia’s Washington Avenue.

13 March 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

Last week we looked briefly at the upper end of Shackamaxon Street, this week we’ll take a look at the lower. By the 19^th Century, with Kensington growing, there was a petition taken up by citizens of the neighborhood to have Shackamaxon Street extended from Richmond Street (then called Queen) through to the Delaware River.

Folks in the area began to complain that they had to go a full two squares out of their way to get to the riverfront, which greatly inconvenienced them and since the area was not built up yet, it would be cheaper to cut a road though now (in 1816) then later, when perhaps development might incur.

Officials agreed and Shackamaxon was cut through. Land surveys and illustrated road petition surveys show that Shackamaxon Street cut right through the old Bachelor’s Hall property, however the old structure, burnt in 1775 and built on top of, sat just south of the new piece of Shackamaxon street and thus was not touched.

According to Benjamin Franklin scholar, Prof. Leo Lemay, Bachelor’s Hall was “formed for fellowship and pleasure before 1728.” If this is true, then that would mean that Bachelor’s Hall predates not only the learned societies of the American Philosophical Society and Library Company of Philadelphia, but also would be contemporary with Franklin’s own “Junto Club,” which is said to be founded in 1727.

Prof. Lemay states that members of Bachelor’s Hall were Franklin’s friend Robert Grace, as well as Griffin Owen, Lloyd Zachary, Isaac Norris, Jr., and Charles Norris. Philadelphia annalist John Fanning Watson adds Robert Charles, William Masters, John Sober, and P. Graeme to the list. As well, George Webb, who Franklin taught the art of printing, was a member. Some of these men were also in Franklin’s “Junto Club,” as well as early members of those two other learned societies in Philadelphia already previously mentioned.

It is to George Webb that we know a lot of what little there is know about Bachelor’s Hall. Webb penned a poem that celebrated Bachelor’s Hall and his mentor Benjamin Franklin printed it up in 1731. It was appropriately titled Bachelor's-Hall.

Bachelor’s Hall had its share of luminaries visit the place. The Hall would allow ministers from time to time to come and preach in Kensington and according to a contemporary journal kept by a follower of the Moravian Church, on February 4^th, 1742, “Bro. Ludwig preached in Bachelor’s Hall …with marked effect.” Brother Ludwig is Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf (1700-1760) generally known as Count Zinzendorf, a German nobleman. He was the leader of the Moravian movement.

Later, in 1771, the Rev. John Murray, a Universalist minister, preached at Bachelor’s Hall. Murray had been shut out from all the pulpits in Philadelphia, but was welcomed by members of Bachelor’s Hall. Who would have thought that Kensington at such an early age was a place for liberal minded men?

Another noted person who visited Bachelor’s Hall was John Bartram (1699-1777), once called “the greatest natural botanist in the world.” Once source states, “the first botanic garden, for the cultivation of plants having medicinal properties, was established at Bachelor's Hall.” It is quite possible that these plants were gathered from the local Native Americans and that even Bartram may have cared for this garden.

Bachelor’s Hall is said to have been a square brick building. Since Paine Newman is known to have built his brick smith shop on top of the old foundation and his smith shop was 30 feet by 70 feet, then the Hall in all likelihood was a 30-foot square structure.

The Hall was said to be of considerable beauty and was used chiefly for balls and late suppers. Watson’s Annals of Philadelphia, states that Bachelor’s Hall, “had a fine open view to the scenery on the Delaware.” It stood on the east side of Hall Street, later Beach Street, still later Delaware Avenue, and sat just south of Shackamaxon, or within the now well known historic area of the SugarHouse site, near the northwest corner.

Christopher Marshall noted in his diary on April 4^th, 1775, “This morning a fire begun at nine o’clock, at Bachelor’s Hall, which soon consumed the building.” Other sources state that all the wooden portions were destroyed, which would seem to indicate that it was a brick building as previously described, but perhaps had a wooden roof and interior.

Besides Webb’s poem on the Hall in its early years, the burning of Bachelor’s Hall inspired several poems, one by Hopkinson, another by Thomas Paine (author of Common Sense) titled, “Impromptu on Bachelor’s Hall, at Philadelphia, being destroyed by Lightning, 1775.”

20 March 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

Many who have studied the history of Kensington in colonial and revolutionary times are well aware of the three Eyre brothers, Jehu, Manuel, and Benjamin, who came down from Burlington, New Jersey previous to the Revolution, and built shipyards in Kensington. They helped to make Kensington a shipbuilding center of Colonial America. By following the history of this family, we find that one of their descendants also contributed to the development of Kensington during the time when it was self-governing (1820-1854).

Abraham P. Eyre was born about 1810, the son of Jehu Eyre and Mary Elizabeth Kraft. This Jehu Eyre’s father, also named Jehu Eyre, was one of the three brothers mentioned above. The senior Jehu Eyre (c.1737-1781) served with distinction in the Revolutionary War, making him somewhat of an important figure in America’s history.

Abraham P. Eyre is first found living on his own when he was enumerated in Kensington’s 5th Ward in1840. In 1850, Eyre is listed as a wharf builder, with real estate at $80,000, which increased to $175,000 by 1860, or $4.3 million in today’s money. Eyre married Ann Boyce and by 1850 the couple had at least five children.

Since Eyre had a famous grandfather and was quite wealthy, he was held in high stature in Kensington and was elected to be the President of the District of Kensington (1836-1840), or what we could call the mayor of Kensington. Before becoming President, he had already been serving as one of the Commissioners.

Abraham P. Eyre was also the earliest known President of the Kensington Soup Society, holding that position from at least 1854 to 1861. He is listed as one of the Board of Incorporators on 18 April 1853 and in all likelihood he was the founding President of that society.

The Philadelphia Directory for 1861 has Abraham P. Eyre listed as a wharf builder, living at 422 Richmond. In the same directory is listed Franklin Eyre, also a wharf builder, at 430 Richmond, just a couple of doors away. The firm of Franklin Eyre & Son (Franklin & George F. Eyre), wharf builders, was listed at this same 430 Richmond Street address. There is a George F. Eyre, the presumed son of Franklin, listed as a wharf builder and living in 1861 at 1126 Palmer Street. Another Eyre, Jehu W. Eyre, is another wharf builder, living at 1326 Beach Street. The Eyre family had gone from building ships in the 18^th Century, to building wharves in the 19^th Century.

Back in 1839, Abraham P. Eyre is recorded as having built a wharf for the shipping tycoon Thomas P. Cope. In 1840, when his presidency of Kensington ended, he was appointed assistant warden to the Port of Philadelphia by the Pennsylvania Governor and was reappointed in 1841 and 1842 and was appointed to be the actual warden in 1846.

In 1841, the District of Kensington elected him to be a school director. Eyre was also on the Democratic ticket for the District of Kensington Commissioners’ election of October 1843 and with four other Democrats received more votes then the Whig candidates.

In March of 1844, two months before Kensington’s Anti-Irish Catholic Riots, Eyre spoke to a mob at a Nativist meeting held at Kensington’s Commissioner’s Hall (Frankford & Masters). In 1845, he served on the City & County of Philadelphia Committee that was formed to propose an event, or parade to honor the death of President Andrew Jackson. Eyre and John Robbins were also on the committee for the city and county that welcomed then President James Polk to Philadelphia in 1847.

Eyre seems to have had his hands in almost all of the institutions of Kensington, as he is seen as serving as a director (in at least 1858) for the Howard Fire and Marine Insurance Company. As well, he was one of the founders of the Kensington Mutual Fire and Marine Insurance Company, incorporated in 1854. When the Kensington Building Association was founded in 1847, Abraham P. Eyre was elected President at their first meeting. Eyre is even found giving his support to a group of Philadelphians who supported Pope Pius the IX, to establish the Constitutional Reforms that were in progress in the Papal States. The group, met at the Chinese Museum in January of 1848.

Abraham P. Eyre died 10 Dec 1877, near his then home, near West Point, Virginia, at the age of 67. His funeral was from his sister’s residence, Mrs. Anna M. Heller, of 2421 N. 11th Street, Philadelphia. Eyre’s body was interned at South Laurel Hill Cemetery. Eyre’s sister Anna had previously married Amos Heller.

27 March 2008

The Rest is History

By
Ken Milano

We read last week about Abraham P. Eyre, the grandson of 18^th Century Kensington shipbuilders and how those later generations of Eyres went into the business of wharfbuilding. This week we’ll take a look at another a local wharfbuilder, who also was a lumber merchant.

About the year 1793, when the Yellow Fever was making its way through Kensington, Eli Garrison, the future Kensington lumberman and wharfbuilder was born. Garrison first shows up in the Philadelphia City Directory as early as 1818, on N. 2^nd Street, above Poplar. He would have been about 25 years old at this point in time and already in business.

In the early 1820’s, Eli Garrison is found employed in building Fort Delaware, at Pea Patch Island down on the Delaware River. He had at least a three-year contract with the Federal Government as a wharf builder and to do the pile-driving on this project.

Later, between 1830 to 1840, Garrison is found living in Kensington’s 4^th Ward and according to Roberts’ map of 1838, Garrison had his lumber wharf and business two wharves north of today’s Laurel Street, or right in the middle of where SugarHouse proposes to build their casino.

In 1837, Eli Garrison was the chairman of the Democratic Whigs for the 4^th Ward of Kensington. He also served in the 1830’s as an “Assessor” in the 4^th Ward. In the 1840’s, Garrison was found being politically involved running on the “Rough & Ready” ticket, where he finished in the middle of the pack, behind the Democrats, but ahead of the Nativists, which were strong in what was then called “East Kensington,” but now Fishtown.

A newspaper advertisement by William Carman, of the Camden Steam Saw Mills, published in Philadelphia’s North American and United States Gazette, on 4 July 1853, has within the advertisement that Carman’s lumber is superior to any that has lately been on the market, having been:

“…selected by one of the oldest pioneers on the Susquehanna River, who has resided many years in the forest himself, and felled many trees of the same character, I refer to our old and worthy citizen, Eli Garrison, Esq., Kensington.”

This advert would seem to show that Garrison, besides having been previously employed as a wharfbuilder, was also in the lumber business and that he was well known in the Delaware Valley. One has to imagine that Garrison would have used quality lumber and his skills as a wharf builder, to build one strong wharf for himself to operate from in Kensington, although this is some evidence that he may have taken over “J. Eyre’s wharf” and perhaps renovated it.

In 1860, Garrison is found living at 1031 Shackamaxon Street. The 1860 Census has him listed as a retail lumber dealer, with real estate of $10,000. His personal estate of $10,000 would have a value today of between $250,000 to over $1,000,000 depending upon what price indicators you use. This 1860 Census shows Garrison listed as being born in New Jersey and living with his wife, children, and grandchildren.

Besides business and politics, Eli Garrison had a philanthropic aspect to his life. He was found to be one of the incorporators of the Kensington Soup Society and served as a manager of that society for the years 1853 to 1870, being the Vice-President of the Society for all that time.

Garrison also had a hand in another Kensington institution, the Kensington National Bank. As early as 1840 he was one of the directors of this early bank of Kensington, that used to sit on the SugarHouse Casino site, before moving to where Wachovia Bank is today at Frankford & Girard Avenues. Over the years, a number of the other Kensington Soup Society managers served as directors for this local bank, famed for having paid a dividend for all of its years in existence.

By 1870, Garrison is found in the census with the services of a domestic servant to help him and his wife in their later years. A couple of doors from Garrison, at 1027 Shackamaxon, was David Duncan, the coal merchant, who also served on the founding Board of Managers of the Kensington Soup Society. Shackamaxon Street at this time had many of Kensington’s leading citizens as its residents.

There is a newspaper mention that the estate of one Eli Garrison was being probated at the Orphans Court in Philadelphia. This was listed in the paper on 16 April 1879, with David R. Garrison as the administrator. This would appear to be Eli Garrison, the given name and surname would match, as would the time frame of his death.

10 April 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

If you were to step back in time about two hundred years, to the year 1809, you might see a bustling Fishtown and Northern Liberties waterfront looking much the way we see it today. While today we have condo towers and other developments going up along the river, back in the first and second decades of the 19^th Century, we would have seen a dizzying amount of wharves and piers being erected or extended out into the Delaware River as Kensington shipbuilders built or expanded their shipyards.

From 1790 to 1826, there were at least twenty-seven wharves or piers either built, or extended. By far the busiest year was 1809, when there were no less then seven licenses given out to erect wharves and another three licenses given out to folks to extend their already existing wharves.

The time period of 1809 for this activity is significant. Locally, it was the time when the break up of the great Masters’ family estate was taking place and much of what used to be called Point Pleasant, the waterfront from Shackamaxon Street south to Popular Street, was being divided and built up upon. Internationally, the Napoleonic Wars were devastating Europe and there was a need for a neutral shipbuilder, thus American shipyards, many located at Kensington, were doing a booming business.

While there was some development at Point Pleasant during colonial times, with William Masters’ distillery, his Tide Mill, the “Three Stores,” Batchelor’s Hall, and several shipyards, the big bustle of activity was the first decades of the 19^th Century. The Philadelphia City Directory of 1805 shows Point Pleasant being populated by shipwrights, shipbuilders, tavern keepers, laborers, ship-carpenters, wharf-builders, ship joiners, caulkers, blacksmiths, and lumberyards, or just about every trade one would need for shipbuilding enterprises.

Some of those licenses that were granted for wharves to be built, or extended in the year 1809, were given out to men who were either building or expanding their shipyards, people like Samuel Bowers, Isaac Eyre, and the Grice family of Joseph and Samuel Grice.

Samuel Bower’s shipyard was 190 feet north of Laurel Street, on the east side of Penn Street, in the middle of the SugarHouse site. When he started to build his wharf in 1809, his workers were literally bringing up shovel fulls of American Indian artifacts and dumping them back into the river. Is it no wonder that SugarHouse archaeologists discovered 3500 year old Native American artifacts only four inches under the earth when they excavated just a small portion of the site.

Samuel S.D. Bower, the shipyard owner’s son, wrote a biography of his father in 1858 and mentions this event, which took place soon after receiving the license to build the wharf on May 4, 1809:

“Permission having been thus granted, as soon after this rising eminence gave way to the action of the shovel, spade and pick, whose constant inroads brought to light many Indian implements which no doubt, to the rising race, be curious to behold, while its crumbled form was carried by the barrow and cast into the water below.”

Isaac Eyre had the property next to Samuel Bower, also on the SugarHouse site. He appears to have been related to the other Kensington shipbuilders of the same name. Below Isaac Eyre was Samuel Grice’s shipyard, at the first wharf above Maiden Street (today’s Laurel Street, also on the SugarHouse site). The other Grice family members had their shipyard just below the SugarHouse site.

Knowing the history of these early shipyards appears to be even more significant now that the Pennsylvania Historical Museum Commission (the state agency working with the Army Corps of Engineers overseeing the archaeology dig at the SugarHouse site) has recently released a letter to the Army Corps of Engineers (March 26, 2008), recommending a more thorough archaeological investigation to be conducted on the SugarHouse Casino site, in order “to gain a better understanding of the location of the historic shoreline and to further assess the potential for any maritime-related archaeological resources and any other buried historic or prehistoric ground surfaces.”

Finding this original shoreline also appears to be of interest to several Pennsylvania state politicians, as fixing the original shoreline will also help to determine just how much of the SugarHouse site actually falls under riparian rights land, land that they say only the state legislature can give rights to develop. The more land that can be determined to have been filled in, the more land that falls into riparian rights land. Riparian rights land is land that belongs to the public (you and me) and is held in trust by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania for her citizens.

17 April 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

Last week I chronicled the development of the neighborhood’s waterfront in the early decades of the 19^th Century, particularly the area known as Point Pleasant, from Shackamaxon Street down to Poplar Street, or where SugarHouse proposes to build a casino. This week we will take a look at local shipbuilder, John Vaughan, whose early 19^th Century shipyard’s beginnings was a result of the Napoleonic Wars, mentioned last week as a catalyst for our local waterfront development two hundred years ago.

An interesting point found while researching the neighborhood’s waterfront, is that many of the shipyards founded in Kensington in the late 18^th Century and early 19^th Century were founded by men who either served in the Revolutionary War, or whose fathers served in that war and John Vaughan was no different. He was born on 31 October 1786, the third son of Kensington’s Revolutionary War militiaman, Thomas Vaughan (1757-1842) and Mary Bryan (d.1855). Thomas Vaughan fought at the Battle of Trenton and served under local Kensingtonians Captain John Hewson and Colonel Benjamin G. Eyre. Both the Hewson and Eyre families are honored with streets named after them in Fishtown. Thomas Vaughan died in 1842 and his “remains now repose on a hillock in the Palmer Burial Grounds, near Montgomery Avenue and Memphis Street.”

John Vaughan’s parents first purchased property in Kensington from John & Eleanor Chevalier. Eleanor Chevalier was the granddaughter of Kensington founder Anthony Palmer. Thomas Vaughan was the son of Griffith Vaughan, who was the son of William Vaughan. All of these Vaughans were shipwrights. Griffith Vaughan’s wife, Elizabeth Betson Norris, was the sister-in-law to another early Kensingtonian, William Rice, whose family were related to the famed Kensington shipbuilding family of William Cramp. Elizabeth Betson Norris’ father, John Norris, was likewise a shipwright.

With all the shipwrights in the family, it was no accident then that John Vaughan would eventually open a shipyard and according to Rich Remer of the Kensington History Project, “John Vaughan began his shipyard during the boom in shipbuilding created by the Napoleonic Wars and the War of 1812. His original shipyard at the foot of Shackamaxon Street and his second yard at the foot of Palmer Street (later Cramp's drydock), saw their zenith during the years of steamboats and the first transatlantic packet ships.”

Vaughan established his yard about 1810 and continued it under his name until 1833. His Shackamaxon Street shipyard is said to have constructed most of the trading fleet of Stephen Girard, America’s first big merchant marine fleet. Girard was one of the richest men in America during his lifetime (if not the richest) and it is his name that graces Girard Avenue.

Thomas Vaughan brought his son Jacob Keen Vaughan into the business and the name of the firm became John Vaughan & Son and lasted from 1833 to John’s death in 1846. After John Vaughan’s death his son took on Matthew Lynn as a partner and the business was called Vaughan & Lynn and lasted from 1847-1858, failing after the financial panic of 1857.

John Vaughan was a member of Kensington Methodist Episcopal “Old Brick” Church, and served in varying layman capacities until his death in 1846, which at that time he was the President of the Board of Trustees of the church and its burial grounds. He was a class leader as early as 1810 and one of the founders and original trustees starting back in 1809. Vaughan was also a member of the local Temperance Society and the Friends of the Bible; as well he was a one-time Commissioner for the District of Kensington and a director of the Kensington National Bank.

John Vaughan is said to have had a close association with the Kensington Soup Society, which might mean that he was one of the original organizers that helped to found it. The fact that he died in 1846 would be the reason that he was not on the early lists of incorporators of 1853 and 1854. It might also be added that Vaughan was one of the founders of Kensington Methodist Episcopal “Old Brick” Church, which has been shown to played a major role in the founding of the Kensington Soup Society

When John Vaughan died on 19 February 1846, he was buried at Laurel Hill Cemetery, as was his wife Anna Maria Stout. He had married Anna at Old Brick Church on 26 March 1808. On the Saturday previous to Vaughan’s burial, all of the “shipping in the Port of Philadelphia displayed their flags at half-mast as a testimonial of respect to his memory.”

31 July 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

In a previous column I wrote about Shackamaxon Square, a small park that sat at the foot of Frankford & Delaware Avenues in the 19^th Century. Bordering that park on the north side was Manderson Street, which actually still exists, a small sliver of a street that you use when you turn right onto Frankford if your heading south on Delaware. Recently a client had me research their family in Kensington, the name of the family? Manderson!

Andrew Manderson was born about 1767 and immigrated to America from County Antrim, Northern Ireland. He first appears in the Northern Liberties in 1795, when he purchases a property on 3^rd Street, between Green and Brown Streets. He continued adding property to his portfolio before finally purchasing a property on the east side of 2^nd Street in 1804 where he kept a store for at least twenty years. The Philadelphia City Directories from 1799 to 1819 show Manderson as a storekeeper, first at 412 N. 2^nd Street, then at 455 N. 2^nd Street. In those days, the addressing system was different then today and the 400 block of N. 2^nd Street would have started at Fairmount Avenue.

Manderson was shown to be active in a lottery to raise monies for the 4^th Presbyterian Church, at 3^rd & Lombard, later 5^th & Gaskill Streets. By 1810, Andrew Manderson, besides his general store and real estate, was also was involved in banking, as one of the commissioners of the Bank of Northern Liberties.

While Manderson was busily building his fortune through shop keeping, banking, and real estate, there appears two other Mandersons in the records. John and James Manderson, presumed relicts to Andrew, whom preceded Andrew to Kensington. These two men were located in Kensington as early as 1813 (James) and 1817 (John).

According to the 1820 Census, John Manderson would have been born between the years 1775-1794, possibly a younger brother to Andrew. The Philadelphia City Directory of 1817 lists John Manderson as a teacher, at 445 N. 2^nd Street, the home of Andrew Manderson, so it is possible that John came to America after Andrew established himself, lived with him at first, then moved out on his own.

James Manderson in 1820 was found near to John Manderson, at Point Pleasant, on the SugarHouse site. The 1817 Philadelphia City Directory lists him at 11 Hall Street, which would later become Beach Street, still later Delaware Avenue. James Manderson, born between 1775-1794, was a grocer. The 1810 Census shows James Manderson had moved to Point Pleasant from Walnut Ward, Philadelphia. In 1810 the Philadelphia City Directories listed him as a baker, at Goforth ally, but by 1813, he was in business as a grocer at Point Pleasant.

Andrew remained in the Northern Liberties’ 5^th Ward until he moved to Point Pleasant, Kensington (the SugarHouse site) sometime just after the 1820 Census, as the 1820 Census still has him located in the Northern Liberties, but the 1830 Census has him located at Point Pleasant. He had previously purchased from the Masters’ Estate in 1809 a 55’ by 94’ lot, on the east side of Beach Street, about 91’ above Maiden (Laurel) Street.

Andrew Manderson continued to build his real estate holdings in Kensington, purchasing other properties from the Masters’ Estate on the north side of Hall Street, almost opposite the Beach Street lot, two lots on the west side of Frankford Avenue with a combined 200 foot frontage, and the southern lot that bordered his Beach Street lot.

In the late 1820s, Manderson went into the lumber business. In 1828 he bought from the Brusstar family their 176’ riverfront lot and wharf that sat above Shackamaxon Street, then in 1829 he bought from mastmaker Andrew Donaldson, his 46’ waterfront lot that sat on the northern border of the lot he previously purchased from the Brusstars. These purchases gave Manderson 222’ of riverfront frontage with wharves for his lumber business.

Andrew Manderson died on 28 January 1848, however before his death he transferred the lumberyard and wharves on the riverfront to his sons Andrew (1806-1892) and James (1812-1886) who continued on in the business. The Point Pleasant property became the office for this enterprise. In 1852, the Manderson family purchased the greater part of Petty Island. The family was a major business family in Kensington for almost the whole of the 19^th Century. The last of this family with the Manderson surname moved out of the neighborhood in the 1910s.

Manderson Street, perhaps no more then 10 yards long at the northwest corner of Frankford & Delaware Avenues, is the last remnant of one of Kensington’s more industrious families.

21 August 2008

The Rest is History

Ken Milano

[The following column did not run in the Fishtown Star. The Star has been reluctant to run any history column that deals critically with the archaeological dig at the SugarHouse site due to the fact that I am working with one of the consulting party members (Torben Jenk) of that project. Terrence "big head" McKenna, the project executive for the developer (Keating) of SugarHouse has bitched and moaned to the Fishtown Star about "full disclosure" of Ken Milano, meaning my readers ought to know that the local history column is being written by someone who is working with a consulting party member. Duh! Like most of the garbage that comes out of McKenna's mouth, the readers already know this, since the readers know (and have known since about the early 1990s) that Torben Jenk, Rich Remer, and I are the founders of the Kensington History Project, a local history group that has been researching, documenting, lecturing, and publishing on the history of Kensington & Fishtown history long before SugarHouse came along. McKenna has also gone as far as calling the Kensington History Project "anti-casino historians," which is a new term to me. Of course the Kensington History Project has always remained neutral on the issue of building a casino in Fishtown, but apparently if you question anything about the competantcy of the archaeological dig, you are immediately lumped into the anti-Casino group by Mckenna & Co. Apparently the Casino's game plan is to silence any opposition.]

Last week I wrote about the Fairman Mansion, the most historic structure in Fishtown or Kensington. The next structure in line for "most historic" in the neighborhood would be Batchelor's Hall, also previously written about. But what happened to Batchelor's Hall after it was reported to burn down in 1775?

John Fanning Watson, the well-known Philadelphia antiquarian and annalist, states a "brick smith shop" was built on the old foundation stones of the Hall. The Kensington History Project (Torben Jenk, Rich Remer, and myself) contends that Paine Newman was the blacksmith who built his shop atop the old Batchelor's Hall and that the foundation of Batchelor's Hall sits where the SugarHouse Casino proposes to build their casino.

However, the present archaeological dig that is being conducted on the site contends that Batchelor's Hall was not on the SugarHouse site, but sat west of the property, somewhere between Richmond Street and Delaware Avenue. The overseeing parties (Army Corps, PHMC, & ACHP) appear to agree with SugarHouse.

The three pieces of evidence used by SugarHouse to dismiss Batchelor's Hall from being on their property are a map of 1752, a newspaper advertisement of 1763, and a response to a letter to the editor in 1887. Their reports do not list any trenches being dug to look specifically for Batchelor's Hall.

In the 1752 Scull & Heap map, SugarHouse contends that the structure called "Hall" sitting on the west side of Richmond Street, shows that the Hall was not on their site. However that evidence would seem to contradict their second piece of evidence, an advert in the Pennsylvania Gazette of 14 July 1763, which states a property on the west side of Richmond was for sale opposite the Batchelor's Hall. "Opposite of Bachelor's Hall" would then seem to put Batchelor's Hall on the east side of Richmond Street, which contradicts the Scull & Heap map of 1752.

Batchelor's Hall was on the east side of Richmond Street, but the structure itself did not sit on Richmond Street. The "grounds" ran up to Richmond and down to the river, thus saying the properties were "opposite" Batchelor's Hall simply means opposite of the "Batchelor's Hall Grounds," which had a 300 foot front on Richmond Street and ran down to the river.

The third piece of evidence for SugarHouse is from a response to an inquiry to the Pennsylvania Magazine of History & Biography, a journal of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. Published in volume 11 of 1887, an inquirer asked where Batchelor's Hall was located and the responder answered that it was located in the block bounded by Poplar Street and Shackmaxon and Beach and Allen Streets.

The person responding to the inquiry is not listed, nor are any sources listed of where the responder found the information to support the assertion that Batchelor’s Hall stood where he said it stood. Furthermore, the responder states Batchelor’s Hall stood on the block bounded by Poplar Street, Shackamaxon Street, Beach Street, and Allen Street. That is not a “block” but several blocks, as between Shackamaxon and Poplar Street in 1887 also ran Sarah Street, Frankford Avenue, Laurel Street, and Lewellyn Street. If this letter responder shows anything, it seems to show that the author was not familiar with the geographic area they were talking about and did not even consult a map.

The Kensington History Project contends that Batchelor's Hall was on the SugarHouse site and the evidence is in a survey of 1804 and in a road petition when Shackamaxon Street was cut through. In 1804, Reading Howell, the official surveyor of Philadelphia, surveyed the "Batchelor's Hall Ground." The Batchelor's Hall Ground is shown to run from the east side of Richmond Street to the low water mark of the Delaware River and to have a front on Richmond Street of 300 feet. On this survey is shown "Newman's Brick Smith Shop." The smith shop is shown to be on the east side of Hall Street (later changed to Beach, still later Delaware Avenue) and running eastward towards Penn Street. North of "Newman's Brick Smith Shop" is the portion of the Batchelor's Hall land that belonged to John Dickinson's family.

According to a road petition (at City Archives) that was drawn up when Shackmaxon Street was cut through the Batchelor's Hall Grounds from Richmond to the river, it was cut through the land of Batchelor's Hall that was owned by Dickinson, thus "Newman's Brick Smith Shop" sat on the east side of Delaware Avenue, just show of Shackamaxon Street, squarely on the SugarHouse site.

Reading Howell's survey also shows no other "brick smith shop" on the Batchelor's Hall property. It one actually reads the historical record, it appears clear where Batchelor's Hall was located.