5 July 2007 The Rest is History
One of the more interesting things about being a local historian is that over the years you get to meet many like-minded folks with an interest and knowledge of local history. One of these folks is Walter D. Stock, retired librarian of the Philadelphia Free Library. Walt was the head of the Education & Philosophy Department at the library’s main branch when I first met him and the specialist at the library for genealogy. As it turned out, Walt was also a fan of Kensington history as he descends from the Day family, an early 18th Century Kensington family that he has done extensive research on and has shared with me over the years.
In Fishtown there runs a little tiny street called Day Street. It is sandwiched between Shackamaxon and Creese Streets and runs only from about Richmond to Thompson Streets. Day Street got its name from Michael Day, who was the youngest of 11 children born to Andreas Tag (1734-1805) and his wife Christiana Eicholtzheimer (1737-1835) on the 10th of March, in the year 1782, in Kensington. His parents were both immigrants from Lindelbach, Germany, who settled in Pennsylvania in the 1750s. Over time the surname of “Tag” was anglicized to “Day.”
Andreas Tag served in the Philadelphia County Militia during the American Revolution and for a period served under “Capt. Eyre” and “Capt. John Hewson,” both well-known Kensingtonians that also have little streets in Fishtown named after them. Tag also served for a time on the Board of Trustees for Palmer Cemetery and was variously described as a “laborer” and “ditcher,” before becoming a yeoman. He lived at a small farm in Kensington, located roughly in the area east of Palmer Cemetery, and bounded somewhat by the present day streets of Palmer, Montgomery, Thompson, and Belgrade. Tag earlier made a land purchase in the same area from Alexander Allaire, the son-in-law to Kensington’s founder, Anthony Palmer.
Andreas’ son Michael Day became a very successful businessman and very much a philanthropist. He took an active interest in civic affairs not only of his native Kensington, but also Philadelphia County as well. At different times in his life he was a “Justice of the Peace for Kensington, a Director of the Kensington Bank, a Port Warden for Kensington, Inspector of Philadelphia County Prisons, a Trustee for the Fire Association of Philadelphia, a long term Director from Kensington on the Philadelphia County Guardians of the Poor, and the President of the Philadelphia County Guardians of the Poor in the early 1850s.” Day also served as one of the commissioners of Kensington when it was a self-governing district.
Michael Day died on the 18th of December, in 1864. His obituary in the Philadelphia Inquirer of 20 December 1864 gave his home address as “1020 Marlborough Street, above Richmond.” His body was interred at Palmer Cemetery. His obituary stated he was “an influential citizen, and during a portion of his life took a lively interest in the prominent movements of the day.”
His philanthropy and charitable nature is evidenced in his will and gives an idea of the character of Michael Day. The will, written on 14 November 1863, about a year before he died, was probated several days after his death. In his will, Day left $1000.00 to Kensington Methodist Episcopal “Old Brick” Church (Richmond & Marlborough) where he was a member. He also left an equal sum to the Penn Widows Asylum, an institution he was involved with (today’s Penn Home at Belgrade & Susquehanna). Another local organization Day was involved with, the Kensington Soup Society (Creese Street off of Girard), received the legacy of $300.00.
Besides these three institutions, Day also left monetary legacies to his sister, niece, and grandniece, as well as leaving stock to his grand nephew, the Rev. Michael A. Day. The stock consisted of shares in the Kensington Bank, the Consolidation Bank, the Pennsylvania Rail Road, and the Lehigh Coal & Navigation Company. Day’s home on Marlborough Street was given to another niece who cared for him in old age.
Besides family members, Day also left money to three friends, all women, one widow, the other married, the third a “single woman.” One of the more generous aspects of Day’s will however comes at the end when he allows sixteen tenants of his to live rent free for one year.
One of Michael Day’s nieces was Mary Wilt, the wife of Alpheus Wilt. Alpheus Wilt was appointed as one of the executors of Michael Day’s estate. Wilt (like Michael Day, John Hewson, and Capt. Eyre) also has a little street in Fishtown named after him, today’s Wilt Street.
12 July 2007 The Rest is History
Last week I related how I feel fortunate to have the opportunities to meet interesting folks over the years whose mutual interest in local history have enabled me to develop relationships with them. This week I have another fellow whose local history interest has intersected with my own, that fellow is Torben Jenk, who this past week launched Philadelphia’s premier industrial history website titled, Workshop of the World (www.workshopoftheworld.com).
Jenk’s interest in industrial history predates when I first met him back in the mid 1990’s. At that time he was already a member of the Oliver Evans Chapter of the Society for Industrial Archeology. This society shares, celebrates and documents the centuries of industrial activity in and around the Delaware Valley. The society’s focus is on people, structures, machinery, processes and other materials that have survived over the years, they stay away from the actual excavation of the ruins.
Back in 1990, the Oliver Evans Chapter published a book, Workshop of the World; a Selective Guide to the Industrial Archeology of Philadelphia. The 358 page book, a sampler of sorts, comprised 139 snapshots of industrial sites in Philadelphia that were considered either culturally significant, or in imminent danger of demolition or collapse. The snapshots generally included a photograph and a brief history of the business. In particular, industries that typified or were prominent to a specific neighborhood tended to be included. This year the Workshop of the World book has been revisited and expanded by the creation of Torben Jenk’s website.
Jenk created, manages, and edits the website from information in the above mentioned book, as well as from information from presentations, tours, and other publications of the society, and from his own library and research over the years. Muriel Kirkpatrick, who has long recorded the history of Kensington’s industries, is a contributing editor to the website.
Back in the mid 1990’s when I first met Jenk, he and I, along with Rich Remer, founded the Kensington History Project, a local group that has done for Kensington and Fishtown history, what Jenk is now doing for the whole of Philadelphia with his new website.
Naturally my interest in Jenk’s website is the sections on Fishtown and Kensington, as well as the other riverward neighborhoods of Port Richmond, Bridesburg, Tacony, and the Northern Liberties. But other folks might find the other sections just as interesting, as just about the whole of the city is covered.
Jenk has transcribed over 150 industrial surveys, the whole of the original book plus some, and has also included various oral histories, or other information on the industries that he has found over the years. Of particular interest is the surveys are also linked to the Hexamer Surveys of the Geohistory project, and to the Historic American Buildings Survey/Historic American Engineering Record, to maps and online books. Rather then rewriting history, Jenk allows the viewer to see the actual records and guides them to original sources; a great tool for student and scholar alike.
In the Kensington section there are so far thirty-three industries covered, as well as the Frankford Elevated Train. The textile mills and related industries that were centered on Hagert Street west of Frankford Avenue come to life with histories of Albion Carpet, Arrott’s Steam Power Mill, Job Batty, William Beatty, William Emsley’s Washington Mills, and Providence Dye Works. Also covered is the older textile area of South Kensington, popular today with the gentrifiers, with snapshots of Chatham/Clifton Mills, Columbia Works, Ontario Mills, Quaker City Dye Works, Star Carpet Mill, amongst others.
Fishtown is separated out from Kensington and includes looks at Ajax Metal, Arctic Cold Storage, B & B Dyers, Becker Knitting, Crowe Carpet, and Jack Frost Sugar. Landenberger Mills, Morse Elevator, Reach Sporting Goods, and William White Smelting also are covered. Even the old local printer Van Aken Printing on Girard Avenue made it onto the site, now the home of our neighborhood’s favorite printer, Bella Vista.
Did you ever wonder just who Edward Corner was? The old building at Delaware Avenue and Shackamaxon? Jenk’s website has the answer. And what Fishtown history would be complete without a section on Shad fishing! Jenk has documented the history with links to some very interesting and savory websites.
I have often hoped a website like this might come along. Ideas have often been floated around that some downtown institution would be putting together a neighborhood history website, but when it comes down to it, it’s individuals like Torben Jenk who take it upon themselves to put together and present to the public websites really worth viewing. A big thanks to Mr. Jenk for a job well done.
19 July The Rest is History
Many folks probably remember the old “Blue Laws” some of which the legacy still is in effect. The “Blue Laws” refer to the banning of commercial activity on Sundays. Influenced by the Christian culture that America was built upon, the laws were put into effect almost immediately upon the founding of America. Historians say that the term “Blue Laws” comes from “bluenose, a prudish, moralistic person.”
When we usually think of “Blue Laws” we tend to think of the sale of liquor, but “Blue Laws” referred to many different activities, such as working on Sundays, or using public transportation. Over time the Supreme Court has ruled some of these laws illegal, but for the most part the states have either banned the laws, or kept them in effect up until today.
It was under the mayorship (1887-1891) of Kensingtonian Edwin H. Fitler, that ex-mayor William A. Stokely (mayor from 1872-1881) was appointed the director of Public Safety and it was under Stokely’s directorship that the city was determined to uphold the Sunday “Blue Laws.”
When Stokely came aboard in 1887 he was determined to make sure that the sale of liquor on Sunday would be stopped. During the years 1890 and 1891, an all out war across the city on the illegal drinking places was untaken. The newspapers called it the “Speak-Easy War.”
Many speak-easies popped up all over the city, a speak-easy being a place were alcohol was sold illegally. The term “speak easy” is said to come from the patron's manner of “ordering alcohol without raising suspicion — a bartender would tell a patron to be quiet and speak easy.”
In 1890, License Court Judge Willson, accused the city police of not doing their job by reporting the activity of the “speak-easies” in their district. The accusations led to the police clamping down on the illegal establishments. A list of operations were forwarded to Director Stokely for investigation.
As might be expected, working-class neighborhoods focused greatly in the “Speak Easy War.” In Kensington’s 17th Ward, places like Hugh Boyle’s at 1345 Cadwallader and his neighbor John Keenan at 1356 Cadwallader were on Stokley’s list, as was Edward Boyle at 1535 American and James Gallagher at the n.w. corner of Phillips and Master. John Haughey at 1348 N. 2nd and John Smith at the n.e. cor. of Howard and Master also found themselves in trouble.
In Fishtown’s 18th Ward there were found to be a number of speak-easies along the waterfront. On Beach Street there was H.T. Roberts at 1409, William Flick at 1607, and James Conners at 1615. As well, a woman found herself caught up in the speak-easy war when Mrs. Wood, at the s.w. cor. of Palmer and Beach had her name put on Stokley’s list.
A block in from Beach, along Richmond Street, speak-easies were found being run by Timothy Sullivan and Dennis McIntyre both listed at different establishments on Richmond above Berks, James and John Dolphin at 2556 Richmond, and William Watson down at 544 Richmond.
Elsewhere in the neighborhood Francis H. Myers at 1115 Frankford, Mr. Mullin at 1043 N. Delaware Avenue, Henry Belden at 458 E. Girard Avenue, and David W. Levy at 1453 Hanover, Moritz Hoerst at the s.e. cor. of Ash and Thompson, and John Killcullen at 2725 E. Cumberland were all caught up in the Speak-Easy War.
Kensington’s 19th Ward, a large area running from Oxford north to Lehigh, and from Germantown Avenue east to the borders of the 18th and 31st Wards, were found to have 40 speak-easies, run mostly by Irish and Germans, including 3 women. The neighboring 31st Ward of Kensington had half as many speak-easies as the 19th (about 20), but was represented by many private clubs; the Thames Athletic Club (Jasper & Hagert), Turners’ Club (Jasper & Ella), Gladstone Club (Emerald & Hagert), Mutual Club (Trenton & Letterly), and the June Club and July Club, both at York near Tulip.
One entrepreneur came up with an idea to circumvent the Sunday Blue Laws. Selling buckets of beer out the side door was risky and folks had already tried to buy buckets of beer on Saturday night, but they proved to be distasteful the next morning. This entrepreneur developed a 3-quart keg, enough beer to hold over a family from Saturday to Monday. For those families where 3 quarts were not enough, he also had a 6 or 8-quart keg, which he would deliver on Saturday nights.
While Stokely’s Speak-Easy War might have temporarily held up the Sunday Blue Laws, it’s hard to imagine it lasted that long, particularly when Prohibition started in 1920 and started a whole new generation of speak-easies.
26 July 2007 The Rest is History
Recently I came across an 1884 magazine article that mentioned “Philadelphia has long been known as the city of homes and a model city, for there are reckoned to be 140,000 homes for its 890,000 people… about 110,000 of which are owned by the occupants.” I always knew Philadelphia had a history of homeownership and unlike New York and Boston, had been spared the 6 or 7 story tenement house horrors, but I didn’t know this homeownership tradition was prevalent in 1884.
Apparently, the tendency here has always been in favor of individual houses, however small they might be. Philadelphia itself was never very expensive (until recently) and in 1884, a small house, with ground, could be had fairly cheaply. For example, a typical trinity house (the famous Father, Son, & Holy Ghost house of three rooms, one on top of each other) was generally a good investment. A trinity in 1884 rented for $9.00/month. If you had money to invest, buying or building these sorts of houses for rental income was a good investment and probably helped Philadelphia avoid tenement houses. The cost for one of these trinities might have looked like this (in 1884 dollars): $374.45 for ground (12 by 35 feet), $949.29 for the building, $12.25 for “perpetual insurance,” for a total of $1335.99. Rental income would be $108.00 for the year, out of that came $8.00 for water and $18.50 for taxes, leaving $81.50, or about 6% return rate for your investment.
While the investment was good for the investor and helped Philadelphia avoid the tenement houses of New York, the real gem in Philadelphia and what made Philadelphians homeowners, were the “building associations,” which were not really building societies at all, but “co-operative banking associations, making loans on land and houses to their members.”
People who started these associations took as many shares as they liked and undertook to pay monthly $1.00 on each share. Directors were elected and a monthly meeting held. The $1.00 per share was paid before or at this meeting. The cash paid in, with that received for interest, bonuses, etc., was then offered at monthly meetings for loans. Any member could bid, and the bidder who offered the highest bonus (i.e. the greatest discount) got the loan, provided they offered real estate to the amount as security. The loans were in sums of $200, and the borrower must have or take one share for each $200 borrowed. It was this feature, which helped the building of homes. Any member starting with a small saving could arrange to buy a piece of ground, and on this get a loan; with this loan he could build a first story, and on this get another loan to complete his house. On each $200 the borrower paid $1.00 a month interest, or 6%.
Each share was a part of a “series.” When deposits of $1.00 per month per share and the gains brought the value of the series up to an amount, which makes each share worth $200, the series came to an end; the borrowers’ debts of $200 were cancelled, and non-borrowing shareholders received $200 per share cash. The series usually ran about 10 years. A non-borrowing shareholder could withdraw at 30 days notice and receive their full deposits with interest. There was “no forfeiture, scarcely any loose capital to invite dishonesty, no hardship, a maximum of safety and return at a minimum of risk and investment.”
While not the first, the real gem of these associations was the Kensington Building Association of Philadelphia, which started in 1847. Harper’s New Monthly Magazine called the Kensington Building Association, “the father of building associations.”
Researching this association, I found at their first meeting in February of 1847, Abraham P. Eyre, P. F. Wright, William Cramp, Joseph Smith, Jacob Jones, Ralph Lee, Joseph Bennett, George W. Vaughan, and Hillman Troth, were elected as the first board of managers. Abraham P. Eyre was elected President, H. A. Salter the Secretary, and Edward W. Gorgas, Treasurer. Their meetings took place at the Kensington Engine House. At its first meeting they disposed of 207 shares ($41,100 @ $200/ share) and collected $306 in initiation fees.
Many Fishtowners and Kensingtonians bought a home through the help of this association. By the year 1884, the success of these associations was such that the League of Building Associations in Philadelphia included 223 associations and nearly a thousand across the state. It was through these associations that Philadelphia became the “city of homes” and homeowners.
2 August 2007 The Rest is History
Not long ago I got a package in the mail containing two books, The Content of Their Character, a nonfiction work, and Flatiron, billed as a work of fiction. If you grew up in Saint Anne’s Parish, or ever hung at Cione Playground, you’ll recognize Flatiron as growing up in the neighborhood in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s.
The writer of the books is Gerard “Gerry” Shields who grew up on Cumberland Street between Memphis and Cedar Streets, graduated from St. Anne’s and Northeast Catholic and then went on to Penn State where he took a degree in Journalism in 1983. Since graduating, Gerry has been a journalist covering city, state, and federal government for several newspapers.
Shields started out small in Allentown, PA, at the Morning Call, later moving on to Orlando, FL, for The Orland Sentinel then had a stop in New Jersey working for the Gloucester County Times. Eventually he worked in Baltimore, MD, covering city government for the Baltimore Sun. Since 2003 he has been with the Baton Rouge Advocate reporting on Louisiana issues in Washington, D.C.
Shields’ work for the Baltimore Sun, covering the 1999 mayoral campaign for that city, was the topic of his first book, The Content of Their Character, published by Hilliard & Harris in 2004. Similar to Philadelphia, Baltimore politics makes for interesting stories. Seventeen Democrats filed to run for mayor, six had arrest records, one was thrown into jail for a burglary charge, another arrested on a theft charge, and yet another had two gun violations, drug charges and a drunken driving conviction. For once Philadelphia politicians look attractive.
In the end a Celtic music playing Irish-Catholic, Martin O’Malley, won the election and Shields left the Sun to work for O’Malley. The election was unique as it was the first time in 28 years that there was no incumbent and Baltimore voters reached across racial lines to vote for an Irish-Catholic running against three African-American candidates in a city where African-Americans make up 65% of the population. O’Malley served two terms (1999 to 2007) before being elected the governor of Maryland.
The other book in the package was Flatiron, a recent work also published by Hilliard & Harris (2006). It’s a book based on growing up in Saint Anne’s Parish, which overlaps parts of Port Richmond and Kensington. While Shields calls the neighborhood Flatiron, I have only ever knew Flatiron as being the intersection at Almond & Firth Streets, where the big old iron I-beams still sit, but hey, it’s a work of fiction.
While the book includes the usual disclaimer, “Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental,” locals will recognize the places and characters in the book. For example Sesky Square is Cione Playground, St. Stephen’s is Saint Anne’s, East Catholic High School is really Northeast Catholic. Even some of the characters hanging on the street corners or in the local bars are recognizable, if you grew up in St. Anne’s, particularly the area nearer to the church.
As I was reading Flatiron I had to smile. In the chapter titled, “The Playground,” Shields talks about the roller hockey league that was formed at Cione and which I remember participating as a youth, in fact the first year of the league I was the number one draft pick, it’s the only sport I could ever play. There is also a chapter on “The Corner,” about life hanging out on street corners, a tradition as old as the neighborhood itself and a custom that I put much time and effort into as a teenager and young adult. If you never participated in this exercise, you just won’t understand.
While the book’s subtitle is “A Collection of Stories,” the series of vignettes has a central character in Ernie McNamara, a local soccer player, who Shields uses to develop his scenarios of neighborhood life and residents around. The entire book seems like a fairly accurate picture of life in the area and I think we can thank Gerry for giving us a book on the neighborhood, warts and all.
The only disappointment that I saw was that the Flatiron stories were too short, with space taken up by other stories on a football player from down South. As well, I would have preferred not disguising the neighborhood and calling places and streets what they actually are called.
Gerry Shields’ books can be ordered online from Amazon.com, or found on the shelves of any of the local bookstore chains like Barnes & Noble, or Borders Books.
9 August 2007 The Rest is History
We don’t give it much thought today, but there was a time when there was no municipal water supply in Kensington. People tended to get their water from wells, or other natural sources. However, with the increase of population and pollution in the area, these sources of water supply were not safe, nor sufficient.
In 1826, the districts of Kensington, Northern Liberties, and Spring Garden, entered into a contract with the city of Philadelphia to supply water to their districts from the city’s Fairmount Water Works (before 1854 these districts were self-governing). The districts were charged 50% more then the folks in the city. In addition, the districts were required to furnish their own street mains, which were done by the property owners fronting on the streets in which water pipes were laid.
With the increase in population on higher grounds north of the city, a water supply was needed with a "superior head" to the then Fairmount Works. It was necessary to look for alternate water supply sources, particularly since the city was charging such a high rate. The city resisted, but finally the state government allowed the districts to construct a water works of their own in April of 1843.
The Commissioners of the District of Kensington refused to participate and withdrew from the board that had been established for the purpose of constructing a water works on the Schuylkill River (the board included members from Spring Garden & the Northern Liberties). It is unclear why Kensington withdrew, but they did later enter into a contract for a supply of water from the new water works at the same price charged to the water takers in Northern Liberties and Spring Garden.
The rapid increase in population and large number of manufactories erected in Kensington in the 1840’s soon made a larger supply necessary for Kensington than could be procured through the mains supplying the Northern Liberties and Spring Garden. In late 1847, a resolution was adopted by the Commissioners of Kensington to erect a water works of their own.
The plan adopted by Kensington was one presented by a person entirely ignorant himself of the construction of water works or pumping machinery, having never had any previous experience in that branch. The result was what might have been expected - a largely increased cost of the work and a total failure of the machinery. It became necessary to alter and reconstruct much of the machinery before it could be used. After spending a large amount of money and consuming a great amount of time, the works after several unsuccessful attempts, were finally started and the district supplied with water by the middle of the summer of 1851.
The Kensington Water Works was situated on the Delaware River, at the foot of Wood (later Otis, still later Susquehanna) Street. The engine and boiler house was a substantial brick building, containing the engines, pumps, boilers, and other apparatus for the running of the water works.
The water was taken from the end of the wharf which projected some distance into the river, passed through a sluice way to the front of the boiler house and from there, by separate pipes to the pumps. There was one ascending main, leading from the water works to the reservoir, 18 inches in diameter, and 13,260 feet long.
The reservoir connected with these works was located at 6th Street & Lehigh Avenue. It was formed by embankments, puddle with clay and lined with brick, and could contain 9,284,000 gallons of water. The surface of the water in them was 112 feet above mean tide, when filled. After the water was pumped from the Delaware, deposited in the reservoir at 6th & Lehigh, treated etc., it was then distributed to Kensington from one main 18-inch pipe.
Typical water rent rates in the early to late 1850’s were $2.50 per annum for a small trinity type house, if you had a kitchen outback, then it was $3.75 per annum. For an average house, or store, it was about the same price. If you had a water hydrant in your kitchen & yard, it was $5.00 per annum, for each bathtub it was $3.00. per annum, for each water closet (toilet) was $1.00 per annum, a wash basin in your chamber was another $1.00 per annum. Various businesses had various rates depending on the type of business.
After consolidation of Philadelphia County into the City in 1854, the Kensington Water Works was soon abandoned, seen as not adequate for the needs of the burgeoning population of Kensington and the adjacent areas.
16 August 2007 The Rest is History
Last week’s column gave us a look at the introduction of a municipal water supply to Fishtown and Kensington. The Kensington Water Works was located at the Otis Street (Susquehanna Avenue) wharf and eventually abandoned by the city for supplying water to Kensington after consolidation (1854). However, the wharf itself remained in the city’s possession for a number of years thereafter.
While the wharf went 200 feet out into the Delaware River, the Water Works suction pipes sat just below the mouth of the polluted creek Gunner’s Run (now Aramingo Avenue). By late 1861, with complaints about the quality of the water and outbreaks of typhoid fever, the Kensington Water Works was called a nuisance and cries were heard to rid the city of it. The Water Works was shut down some years later from pumping water from the Delaware and the reservoir at 6th and Lehigh was soon refilled from water drawn from the Schuylkill.
The Kensington Water Works took up only part of the Otis Street wharf, with the rest of the wharf being a recreational pier. From an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer of 1881 we find that the pier was called “Fishtown Park,” and predated Penn Treaty Park (1893) by at least forty some odd years, if not many more. As reported in the paper it was a popular resort for residents of Kensington where:
“During the extremely hot evenings, particularly on Sunday evening, the long pier at Otis street wharf has been thronged with young and old people from the neighborhood in the immediate vicinity, to enjoy the breeze from the river. Last evening was no exception to the rule, and the “breathing spot” was crowded with all ages, from the old grandmother with her frilled cap and spectacles, to the baby in the coach, which by the way, were quite numerous. Loving swains, arm-in-arm with the object of their affections, were also largely represented. Peanut and lemonade venders plied their business, doing a lively trade….”
“This wharf has always been a famous resort for people living in that section of the city. Some years ago two rows of trees, running out to the end of the pier, adorned the wharf and added to its attractiveness. They were destroyed by visitors cutting the trunks with penknives. They were finally removed and replaced by a railing on both sides, and two rows of benches. At the time when the trees were in good order the place was very much frequented, and was commonly known as Fishtown Park.”
The pier was also a stopping point for excursion boats during the last decades of the 19th Century and into the 20th. One steamer, chartered by the Sanitarium for Sick Children, would pick up neighborhood children and parents for a ride on the river and then on to Windmill Island. The island was located in the middle of the Delaware, opposite Center City. At the island children could get some fresh air and a wholesome lunch and get away from the “atmosphere of dark courts and alleys.” Eventually, in 1887, the Sanitarium moved to New Jersey, to West Deptford’s Red Bank section where the trips were kept up well into the 20th Century, departing at that point from Penn Treaty Park. Fishtown’s old-timers will remember these “Soupy Island” excursions. Even though Red Bank was not an “island,” the early stories of Windmill Island were handed down and the excursions to Red Bank were still “Soupy Island,” to Fishtowners.
The Water Works wharf was also often a starting point, or turn around point, for boat races, or regattas on the Delaware. The races would run from the Water Works or Tinicum and back, or from Chester to Gloucester, NJ, to the Water Works, and back to Chester. The wharf was also the scene of William D. Moore’s public exhibition of his aquatic velocipede in 1875, the aquatic counterpart to the success of the bicycle.
As with any popular water spot, there were reports of many drownings, or bodies being found floating at docks of the Water Works wharf, a result from activity at the wharf, or perhaps floating down from Gunner’s Run. Since the Delaware River makes an abrupt turn at about this point an eddy is created, which allowed things to gather, including the bodies.
The Anthony Atwood Sunday School first met in 1855 in the building that was the Kensington Water Works. Later this Sunday School would organize into the Siloam M.E. Church, and move down the street to Susquehanna Avenue, above Thompson, until just a few years ago when it closed its doors.
23 August 2007 The Rest is History
Two issues much talked about today are green spaces and access to the waterfront. A couple of my previous columns dealt with some of the history of green spaces along our waterfront and the enjoyment that previous generations of Kensingtonians had at those spaces.
The long gone “Shackamaxon Square,” a block size park, that use to sit at the foot of Frankford Avenue and the Delaware River was one such place, and last week’s column on the rather obscure and forgotten “Fishtown Park,” a tree lined pier that sat on the old Otis Street Wharf, at the foot of Susquehanna Avenue and the Delaware. A couple of months back, I also offered up a couple of columns on the history and founding of Penn Treaty Park, which I later fully wrote up and is illustrated on John Conner’s website, www.penntreatymuseum.org.
During the research work I did for Connors, I came across some material that never made it onto the website. One such story dealt with the idea proposed by Councilman William Rowen. Rowan sat on City Council for Kensington’s 18th Ward during the 1890’s and it was through his encouragement that Penn Treaty Park was largely founded. He was a ship carpenter by trade, who later went into the funeral business, served on City Council, and later on the School Board, where he was president for 12 years.
Rowen’s idea, which was backed by the local patriotic Bramble Club, of which he was President, called for the expansion of Penn Treaty Park. In April of 1896, Rowen and his compatriots had the idea to expand the park riverward. This included the “extension of the wharf along the park front to the new Port Warden’s line, which [gave] an added depth of almost 200 feet to the tract for its full width.”
This addition, they stated could “readily be accomplished by means of pilings driven in the river bottom to the line and then building a platform over the water.” The cost was estimated at “not over $8000, which is considered a small sum when compared with the benefits that will be derived from the added room.”
While enlarging a pier was not that radical for Kensington, the other aspect of Rowen’s plan was fairly unusual, and one which, considering the activity along the waterfront today, might not be a bad idea if put into place today (albeit not very doable).
The second aspect of Rowen’s idea was to “have Hanover (Columbia Avenue) Street, the main approach (to Penn Treaty Park), widened to a broad avenue of 100 feet from the Park to Girard Avenue and the name suggested for the enlarged thoroughfare is Penn Treaty Avenue. The Kensingtonians want the center of the street left unpaved so that a row of waving elms like the famous Treaty Elm, may be planted along the entire length. If this is not done they want a row of elm trees at either curbstone.”
While this sounds like a fine idea, the folks living on the north side of Columbia Avenue might not think so, as the plan called for “Beach Street, opposite the Park,…also [should be] widened and repaved, thus surrounding the historic old spot with wide approaches, beautified by trees. Along Hanover Street on both sides from the Park to Girard Avenue are lines of residences, all neat, but not pretentious, and the scheme is to have the city take those on the north side and throw the ground on which they stand into the proposed avenue.”
In other words, by using “eminent domain” (this is the year 1896 remember) the city would take the houses along the north side of Columbia Avenue, bulldoze them, and expand the street into a tree line boulevard from Girard Avenue to Penn Treaty Park. Like I said, a nice idea, provided you don’t live on the north side of Columbia Avenue.
All joking aside, today the old Penn Treaty Park is shadowed by PECO on the north and the rather uninspiring Penn Treaty Park Place building on the east (one ripe for eminent domain I would think) and there is no real grand boulevard of the type that Rowen planned in 1896 to approach the park. Unfortunately, there was a chance for such an approach, but when the section of Delaware Avenue that runs through Fishtown was upgraded several years back, it was made to resemble its neighboring I-95, rather then a boulevard.
Perhaps the new generation of Think Tanks pumping out ideas about the waterfront will reconsider Rowen’s idea of better approaches to Penn Treaty Park, which in John Connors’ words, is a treasure of national importance.
30 August 2007 The Rest is History
If you take a stroll down “Liberties’ Walk,” the short two block mixed-use shopping center, between 2nd & Bodine and George & Wildey Streets, you’ll never get the impression that at one time you could have vacationed there, taking in hot baths and relax from the hustle and bustle of Philadelphia.
From an advertisement in the Pennsylvania Gazette, dated 22 August 1765, we find the following:
”Town of BATH in the Northern Liberties in the City of Philadelphia. JOHN WHITE, living in the NEW BATH, humbly proposes, by the Assistance of his Wife, to Accomodate Ladies and Gentlemen with Breakfasting, on the best Tea, Coffee, and Chocolate, with plenty of GOOD CREAM, &c., which articles may also be had in an Afternoon. He likewise hopes to give Satisfaction to any Persons whose Health may require their going to the Bath, by his attendance and by furnishing them with Brushes and proper Towels; and as Order and Decency is naturally required in such an Undertaking, he further hopes to approve himself capable of conducting and salutary Purposes, which the Founder originally intended, and now hopes to see effected. He takes the Liberty and subscribes himself the Publick's most obedient humble Servant. JOHN WHITE
N.B. The Bath being now opened, Tickets for the Bathing Season may be had of him.”
In Joseph Jackson’s Encyclopedia of Philadelphia, his information on “Bath Town” was rather scarce, but he did pinpoint the area, “…established in the year 1765, …situated near the Germantown Road, between the Chohocksink Creek and the Globe Mill…The western boundary of Bath Town was between Pitt Street (afterward called St. John Street) and Third Street.”
Jackson’s Pitt Street, afterward called St. John Street, is the current day American Street. The Cohocksink Creek as previously stated a number of times before in this column, was long ago culverted and starting from the Delaware River, runs under the present day streets of Canal, Allen, Hancock, Laurel, Bodine, and Cambridge.
Earlier, that great Philadelphia annalist John Fanning Watson had this to say about Bath Town in 1830:
“Bath town, in the Northern Liberties [was] brought into much celebrity by the influence of Dr. Kearsley….Their house at that day stood on a pleasant farm, called White's farm, having about the house a grove of grateful shade - itself on a green bank gently declining into the Cohocksinc creek. The house was sometimes called the "Rose of Bath," because of the sign of a rose attached to the house. The house is now standing, dismantled of all its former rural and attractive charms, a two story building, on the next lot north of the Methodist church in St. John Street; and the spring, now obliterated, once flowed on the south side of that church, on ground now converted into a tanyard by Pritchet, nearly due east from the Third street stone bridge. The spring, over which Dr. Kearsley had erected a bath house, stood about twenty to twenty-five feet west from the line of St. John street, on the southern side of the tanyard, as I have been told. I mention the location with such particularity, that it may at some day cause a better speculation for some of our citizens, to revive it there by digging or boring, than that of "Jacob's Well" at New York. "The town of Bath," so imposing a name, never existed but on charts. It was a speculation once to make a town there, but it did not take.”
Dr. John Kearsley (1684-1772), the founder of Bath Town, had early on found that the spring in the area was good for medicinal purposes. Kearsley was also the fellow that designed Christ Church (Second & Market Streets) and the State House (a.k.a. Independence Hall). He served for many years in the Pennsylvania General Assembly.
Although the above states that Bath Town was located in the Northern Liberties, they are talking about the township, not the district, as the district only became incorporated in 1803. Bath Town sat on the north side of the Cohocksink Creek, thus in the boundaries of the historical District of Kensington.
Roughly speaking Bath Town sat along both sides of 2nd Street, from at least 180 feet east of 2nd Street, west to American Street, the southern border being the Cohocksink Creek, the northern border about Germantown Avenue. Folks could have arrived at Bath Town via the Road to Germantown, the Cohocksink Creek, or 2nd Street.
Today the old Bath Town area is being revived. I haven’t seen anyone hanging up the “Rose of Bath” sign yet, but who knows, maybe this column will inspire someone to put some hot baths in again?
6 September 2007 The Rest is History
In an age before television and film, a look at the Bramble Club of Kensington, would help to give insight into what local folks did for fun and entertainment.
The Bramble Club was a social organization made up of mainly businessmen from the 18th Ward (Fishtown) of Kensington. It was formed somewhere around February of 1889, or perhaps slightly earlier, to promote the interests of the neighborhood.
The club was very active in recreations of historic anniversaries, such as William Penn’s Landing on the Delaware, of which the celebration would take place at Penn Treaty Park, a place that the club had been instrumental in helping to found.
Besides the historical anniversary events that the club participated in, they were also keen in celebrating national holidays in the neighborhood, in particular, New Year’s Day and the Fourth of July.
During the annual march of the Mummer’s Parade, the Bramble Club gave out several cash prizes in it’s early years to clubs in the Mummers’ Parade who paraded in front of their clubhouse at 201 E. Girard Avenue, a cash incentive to get the Mummers to come to Kensington. The prizes were given for fancies, comics, and bands. In those days the Mummers strutted all over the city, including strutting down Girard Avenue.
One Fourth of July celebration sponsored by the Bramble Club had reenactments of the Boston Tea Party, the Signing of the Declaration of Independence, and Cornwallis’ Surrender. Another celebration of Independence Day had a parade with “upwards of twenty-five companies of boys’ brigades, attached to the different churches led by the Bramble Club in full dress and the Yankee Doodle Band.” The club also did reenactments of the signing of William Penn’s Treaty.
Much of the organizing of the neighborhood for the celebration of these historic events, in particular in involving the youth of the local schools and churches, would be carried out by the Bramble Club and their members.
The purpose of honoring historical events was to keep “The Spirit of 76” alive, a reference to the glory days of the American Revolution, as many of the founders of the Bramble Club had ancestry that dated back to those days. When the club celebrated its 9th Anniversary in February 1898 it was still an unchartered club. By 1918, the club was still active, having been in existence for nearly thirty years.
The “father” of the club was said to be George T. Bramble, the son of a brass founder. Bramble was born in August of 1843 and probably died sometime between 1920 and 1930. It is unclear just “how” Bramble came to be the founder and why the club was named for him. It may have been as simple as in the early years they met and had their clubhouse at Bramble’s cigar store, at 201 Girard Avenue (Shackamaxon & Girard).
The Girard Avenue residence of Bramble predates the founding of the club, as Bramble’s parents, Joseph & Ann Bramble, are found living at the 201 E. Girard Avenue address at least as early as 1880, if not earlier. Joseph Bramble was an old Kensington resident, who worked in the brass founding business, while his son George worked at different jobs before settling into the cigar business.
There were at least two other Bramble families in the neighborhood at this time; however it is unclear at this point just how they were related to each other, if they were related at all to George T. Bramble.
George T. Bramble married a woman name Mary and for whatever reason the couple never had children. This quirk of life may have been the reason that George T. Bramble had the time to hang out with his friends in his cigar shop and found the Bramble Club.
The Bramble Club held its annual banquet and anniversary party on the 22nd of February, to honor George Washington’s Birthday. One time 18th Ward city councilman and school board member, William Rowan, was the long time president of the Bramble Club and much of its success can be attributed to him. His family was one of the “Spirit of 76” families, having fought in the Revolutionary War. Besides Rowan, other local politicians were member; for example William F. Stewart, the local State Representative.
At the club’s sixth anniversary banquet in 1896, there were 200 members present, out of a supposed 230 members. This large and solid organization of Kensington’s business interests was the reason for the club’s success. The celebrations of historical events that the club put on drew thousands of visitors from around the city and were reported on regularly in the press.
13 September 2007 The Rest is History
When Anthony Palmer took up residence in the old Fairman Mansion (at what would be today’s Penn Treaty Park) about the year 1729-30, he began laying out the current grid of streets and advertising the lots for his town of Kensington. It was easy for him to find buyers because property in the Philadelphia had become expensive and waterfront lots were hard to come by. A number of these first purchasers of Kensington were fishermen and shipwrights and according to historian Rich Remer, “the mariners, watermen, and especially fishermen tended to live higher up river in the triangle formed by Montgomery and Aramingo Avenues and both sides of Richmond Street to the river,” while the shipwrights tended to live in “the southwest area of Kensington, along Shackamaxon and Marlborough Streets,” in the neighborhood near to where "Bachelor's Hall” stood.
Bachelor’s Hall was “a private banqueting clubhouse run by Isaac Norris and his colleagues,” and when first built there was no Kensington to encroach on it. The great annalist of Philadelphia, John Fanning Watson, states that Bachelor’s Hall was once a celebrated place of “gluttony and good living, but highly genteel and select.” Watson placed Bachelor’s Hall as “situated in Kensington on the main river street, a little above the present market house.” When Watson was writing (ca. 1842) the “present market house” was the old Beach Street Market, situated about the foot of Frankford Avenue and Beach Street, with the “main river street” being Beach Street.
Bacherlor’s Hall was said to be a “square building of considerable beauty, with pilasters….” The club was built for a select group of city gentlemen, including Robert Charles, William Masters, John Sober, P. Graeme, and Isaac Norris. The last survivor of the club was to take possession of the premises. Norris is the one who wound up taking over the Hall.
Watson states that the Hall had a fine open view to the scenery on the Delaware and that “tea parties were made there frequently for the ladies of their acquaintance.” The Hall was once lent (ca. 1770-71) to John Murray, the Universalist preacher, “keeping then the doctrine cannon shot distance from the city.”
The reference here is that Universalism was not dear to the hearts just yet of Quaker Philadelphia, nor was a “Bachelor’s Hall” very much liked, thus the reason for it being out in the what would have been back then the “suburbs.”
Watson says that while the place was in vogue it received the flattery of the muses. One particularly famous poem written about Bachelor’s Hall was by George Webb, a colleague of Benjamin Franklin and a member of his “Junto” club:
“Fired with the business of the noisy town,
The weary Batchelors their cares disown;
For this loved seat they all at once prepare,
And long to breathe the sweets of country air;
On nobler thoughts their active minds employ,
And a select variety enjoy.
‘Tis not a revel, or lascivious night,
That to this hall the Batchelors invite;
Much less shall impious doctrines here be taught,
Blush ye accusers at the very thought:
For other, O, far other ends designed,
To mend the heart, and cultivate the mind.
While Webb may have been trying to convince the readers that Bachelor’s Hall was just a place for fellows to get together and discuss the latest books, or ideas, many in Philadelphia thought it to be a den of iniquity. Watson, is his history of Philadelphia, states, “The mysteries of the place, however, were all unknown to the vulgar, and for that very reason they gave loose to many conjectures, which finally passed for current tales, as a bachelor's place, where maidens were inveigled and deceived. I had myself heard stories of it when a boy, which thrilled my soul with horror, without one word of truth for its foundation.”
Watson tells us that during the year 1776, when the British were burning most of the outlying mansions and buildings, as part of their fortification of the northern border of the then city of Philadelphia (the city’s northern boundary at that time was Vine Street, and a number of Americans were sniping from various buildings as the British patrolled the area, thus many of the buildings were fired). Francis Hopkinson's "Old Bachelor" has some verses on the burning of the Hall.
In its early years, about the year 1729, Bachelor’s Hall was said to have had the first botanic garden, for the “cultivation of plants having medicinal properties.” It was described as being near Allen & Shackamaxon Streets. More accurately, Bachelor’s Hall was located at about Shackmaxon and Hall Streets, with Hall Street being Beach Street.
20 September 2007 The Rest is History
It’s hard to imagine it today, but much like African-Americans were discriminated against in American history, so too were the Irish Catholics. Philadelphia’s illustrious history proved this in a big way when the Anti-Irish Catholic Riots of May of 1844 broke out. The Irish, like the Italians and eastern Europeans in the later 19th Century, had to fight their way for respect in American society, and while the Irish and African-Americans often battled each other in 19th Century Philadelphia, it generally was due to the fact that they lived amongst each other and competed for the same housing and jobs. Wherever there was an Irish Catholic neighborhood, there was usually a bordering African-American community.
In Philadelphia, the Irish Catholics tended to live amongst themselves for the first several generations, before being absorbed into the melting pot. Unlike Germans, or other Anglos from Northern Europe, the Irish Catholics in Philadelphia lived in just several neighborhoods in the 19th Century. A study done by Miriam Eisenhardt, Jeffrey Sultanik, and Alan Berman titled, The Five Irish Clusters in 1880 Philadelphia, takes a look at these 19th Century neighborhoods. The three University of Pennsylvania students, under the guidance of Alan Burstein (resident demographer of the Philadelphia Social History Project), showed that Irish immigrants clustered in five distinct neighborhoods of Philadelphia.
In the 1840’s, the Irish were very much Irish and not nearly Americanized as this 1880 study. This study mentioned above was on the Irish of 1880, some 30 plus years after the Potato Famine Irish of the 1840’s came to America’s shores. The Potato Famine Irish were in all likelihood more clustered in the 1840’s then they were in 1880. These five clusters in 1880 represented about 20% of the Irish Catholics, which would have been in the tens of thousands, clustered in only five distinct neighborhoods.
Southwest of Center City (10th Street to the Schuylkill River), or what is sometimes called Schuylkill and/or Gray’s Ferry, was the largest of the Irish neighborhoods. Remnants of this neighborhood still exist in Tannytown (26th & South Streets area). Today’s Fitler Square would have been included in this area. This Irish neighborhood was bordered on the south by one of the largest African-Americans neighborhoods of Philadelphia.
The area just northwest of Center City, north of Vine Street and west of Broad Street to the Schuylkill River, was another Irish neighborhood. It use to be called Fairmount and now is called the “Art Museum Area.” In this area African-Americans were again bordering the Irish neighborhood, along Ridge Avenue to the east, and again showing how African-Americans and Irish Catholics were huddled together in Philadelphia.
The southeast of Center City cluster of Irish, or Southwark, the remnants of which today are more familiar to us as “Two Street,” or 2nd Street south of Washington Avenue, was another of the clusters. In 1880 this Irish neighborhood would have encompassed everything south of Spruce Street from 10th Street to the Delaware River. This was the time before Jewish and Italian immigration filled the northern and western edges of this community. African-Americans were again also strong in this area, particularly along Lombard, South, and Bainbridge Streets.
Since the city of Philadelphia originally only went from Vine Street on the north border, to South Street on the south border, it would have been normal for the Patricians of the city to push the African-Americans and Irish Catholics from the city proper, thus the above three Irish and African-American communities sat on the outskirts of the (pre-1854) city proper and remained that way for most of the 19th Century.
Frankford was the fourth Irish cluster and was a very Irish neighborhood, with almost seventy-five percent of the people being Irish in 1880, while Kensington was the fifth Irish cluster, in particular Kensington west of Frankford Avenue and north of Girard, centered around St. Michael’s Church at 2nd & Jefferson Streets. The Fishtown area of Kensington would not have it’s own Irish Catholic Church until Holy Name opened in the year 1905, which by then many of the Protestant Churches, their congregations dwindling, began moving out of the area and eventually Fishtown would come to be very much an Irish-Catholic community.
While Frankford’s Irish had a small African-American community living amongst them (a free black pre-Civil War community east of Frankford Avenue), Kensington on the other hand never appears to have had an African-American community in the 19th Century, unless you count the several families centered around Frankford & Norris Street, where workers (porters) for the railroad at the Kensington Depot (Front & Berks) lived.
27 September 2007 The Rest is History
When the Fairhill Estate was incorporated into the District of Kensington in 1848, it brought to the end a one hundred and forty-year history of one of Philadelphia’s most famous colonial country estates. This column is too short to give the full history of the estate, but a peak at its building is most interesting.
The estate at its largest ran from today’s Germantown Avenue on the west to Aramingo Avenue on the east, from Norris Street on the south, to slightly above Lehigh Avenue on the north. The estate consisted of two tracts, the Fairhill Estate (the country home and garden of the Norris family) which was west of Frankford Avenue and the Sepviva Plantation (the working farm), which was east of Frankford Avenue.
The first parcel of land that would become the Fairhill Estate and the nucleus of which Fairhill was built around, was purchased by Isaac Norris in the year 1709 from Arnold Cassell. Cassell had acquired it from Andrew Robeson. The Cassell property was 156 acres and sat south of and was contiguous with, the Fairhill Meeting House, an old Quaker Meeting located at what today would be Germantown & Cambria. This 156-acre property was part of two 80-acre plots of Liberty Land that belonged to first purchasers William Stanley and James Claypoole.
Andrew Robeson had purchased these separate 80-acre Liberty Land plots from Stanley and Claypoole and consolidated them under one deed. The lots sat next to each other on the farthest reaches of the southern branch of Gunner’s Run, an old creek that ran under today’s Aramingo Avenue. This creek had a branch that shot off and ran westwardly and meandered over towards 9th & Lehigh. On the Cassell property is apparently where Norris built his Fairhill Mansion. The mansion house sat roughly at 7th and York Streets.
William Penn, as an incentive to lure investors to his new colony, would give “Liberty Land” plots to those who purchased large pieces of property. Typically, a person would buy a large parcel of land in the hinterland and receive one percent of their acreage in Liberty Land, thus five thousand acres would get you 50 acres of Liberty Land. Also included in the deal was a town lot in the city of Philadelphia. These Liberty Lands were located in what would become “The Northern Liberties,” however that would not be just the Northern Liberties neighborhood today, but actually would cover everything north of north of Vine Street to the current day city borders.
Many of these Liberty Land plots were never settled, or if they were, were kept briefly as real estate investments, then, to use the jargon of today, “flipped” to make a quick profit. Isaac Norris purchased a number of these Liberty Land plots in the Northern Liberties and consolidated them under one deed to create the Fairhill Estate and Sepviva Plantation.
Three years after first purchasing the Cassell property, Norris purchased the 470 acre estate of Samuel Carpenter. This estate made up roughly all of the Sepviva Plantation and had water frontage along Gunner’s Run. Carpenter was a first purchaser who received Liberty Lands and consolidated it with various properties he bought up from one of the original Swedes in Shackamaxon, Gunner Rambo, as well as some other Liberty Land holders.
As William Penn and the English moved in, the Swedes sold out and moved further inland, or over to Jersey. Carpenter bought lands from these Swedes and took out one patent for his various land purchases, then sold the big acreage to Norris. Also during this period Norris bought up another 198 acres of Liberty Lands, then took out a patent on the whole estate which now measured 824 acres.
The estate was beautifully situated with a fine mansion house, a renowned garden, and a working plantation. At this time Frankford Road cut through the estate, giving Norris access to a north-south road to go to town, or to go to the northeast parts of the county. The eastern edge of the Sepviva Plantation had water access from Gunner’s Run, which was an easy boat ride to the Delaware and into town. There was a road cut out from Gunner’s Run to the Fairhill Mansion, which would appear to roughly parallel today’s York Street, thus easy travel to town by water in the event of bad roads in the winter or rainy months. The western edge and near to Norris’ mansion house at 7th and York, was Germantown Road, which again allowed easy access into town as well as to Germantown and points northwest. In all, Norris did pretty well for himself for not getting here first!