459 - THE EARLY SNOWBIRD

So far, as the residents of the New York City area

welcomed in the year 1830, there would have been

few complaints about the winter. James Stuart 

noted that the streets of Manhattan were so dry it

was necessary to sprinkle them to keep the dust 

down. But, downstate or up, New Yorkers are

suspicious of nice winter weather anytime before

mid-April. They were not to be disappointed.

Exactly one month after Christmas the mercury

headed for the cellar. Water transportation was

halted between the city and both Philadelphia

and Albany.


According to Stuart, “. . . all hands were set to

work in order to have the ice-houses filled with

that article which is so indispensable in a warm

climate. The ice-house attached to the boarding-

house where we were living contains thirty tons

of ice; and, as no ice is into an ice-house here

which is not perfectly clean and clear, so that a

lump of it may be put into a glass of water or a

bottle of wine, as much care is necessary in

selecting the ice perfectly pure from the ponds,

as in packing it in the ice-house.” He mentions

that his Hoboken neighbors the Stevenses keep 

large supplies of ice both here in New Jersey 

and at Albany, for use on their steamboats

during the warmer weather. Northeastern forests 

near the big cities are being depleted of wood,

much of it for the bark, which is ground up 

by tanneries to produce a tannin-rich liquid for

soaking animal hides, softening them to create

pliable leather. The spent liquid is then put to use

polluting nearby rivers and streams. Man-made

recycling at its worst; at least until new 

technologies come along.

Unlike most residents of the area Mr. and Mrs.

Stuart have no ties binding them to the colder

climates. He writes, ”On the  29th January, I set

out on a long-projected expedition to Charlestown, 

NewOrleans, the Mississippi and Ohio.” Left 

to our own devices after the snowbirds have

flown, we’ll hang around the mouth of the

Hudson and see what’s going on during the

rest of 1830. The Stuarts will return at the

beginning of summer.

Meanwhile, the city’s search for decent water

is ongoing. In April work is completed on a 

27-foot high stone tower on 13th Street, built

to contain Philadelphia engineer Thomas 

Howe’s iron tank, designed to hold 230,000

gallons of water. A system of twelve-inch iron

pipes will be laid to carry the water under

Broadway and the Bowery to supply three and

a half miles of streets with water, capable of

being pumped sixty feet above street level.

Two types of power are at work in this project-

water and political. The Manhattan Company,

a brainchild of Aaron Burr in the late 1790s,

had been formed to bring Bronx River water

downtown. But Burr had a more important

goal in mind, slipping language into the

enabling legislation to turn the entity into a 

private bank. Now, in the fall of 1830, State 

attorney general Greene C. Bronson will sue

to have the Manhattan Company's charter

dissolved, arguing that the company not

only has no right to be in the banking

business, but also has not fulfilled its main

obligation to deliver drinking water. Company 

lawyers will keep this one tied up in the courts

for the next two years. Proponents of alcoholic 

abstinence will leap into the fray, citing the 

lack of good drinking water as the excuse for

intemperance. The waters will remain muddied

(you should pardon the expression...or not) for

some time to come.

Broadcast on WXXI-FM / Simon Pontin's Salmagundi - April 22, 2006

© 2006  David Minor / Eagles Byte