Victory Gardens

As we pass the one-year mark of the pandemic, and head into another Spring season, our thoughts turn again to the outdoors and the natural world. For many, New York City parks are an oasis. But for some, gardens—in the backyard, or in a shared community plot—provide a refuge.

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The Brooklyn Botanic Garden, Spring Courses, 1942.  Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

A recent New York Times article about the unexpected popularity of a British television gardening show observed that “...with restaurants, bars and theaters shut down, and socializing at home (or anywhere else) risky, gardening was one of the few leisure activities the pandemic didn’t take away. Both Britain and the United Sates experienced a garden boom last year, with sales of seeds way up and nurseries overrun on weekends.” (New York Times, “Finding Refuge in Dirty Hands and Comfort TV,” March 14, 2021.)  The March 2021 issue of Gardner News similarly reported “Containers were purchased. Planting mediums were purchased. Annuals and perennials were purchased to fill the containers. Home Victory Gardens filled with vegetable, fruit, and herbs served as a successful means of easing stress and safeguarding against food shortages.” (Gardner News, “March Madness,” March 2021.)  

Victory Gardens? Wasn’t that a World War II phenomenon? Were there Victory Gardens in dense, paved-over New York City? The answer is yes, and yes—during World War II, thousands of New Yorkers planted “Victory Gardens” not so much for mental health but as a food source.

Do the collections of the Municipal Archives serve to document Victory Gardens in New York? The answer is again yes, and we turn to the always rewarding Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia collection (1934-1945) to tell the story. Searching the inventory brings up results in two series, the subject files, and the civil defense volunteer office records.   

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The Brooklyn Botanic Garden, Spring Radio Programs, 1942.  Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

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The New York Botanical Garden Spring Course Brochure. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“We must be out of it for the present.”

In February 1942, two months after President Franklin D. Roosevelt declared war against the Axis powers, Mayor LaGuardia wrote Claude R. Wickard, Secretary of the United States Department of Agriculture.  He asked “...whether the Department was designing a program for large cities with respect to the establishment of Victory Gardens for the purpose of raising vegetables.”

Wickhard’s reply was discouraging. He explained that fertilizer would be scarce as the chemicals would be needed for munitions. He added that the supply of vegetable seeds, often imported from Europe, would be cut off. And finally, he stated, “It is ill-advised to plant a garden on poor soil such as will be found in many city back yards.” In forwarding a copy of Wickard’s letter to other City officials, LaGuardia concluded, “…as a general city proposition, we must be out of it for the present.

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Mayor LaGuardia to Secretary of Agriculture, Postal Telegraph, January 28, 1943. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“Little do they realize the amount of labor involved.”

One year later, correspondence in the subject file tells a different story. By 1943, there had been escalating calls for a Victory Garden program in the city. LaGuardia again contacted Agriculture Secretary Wickard. The reply, from Assistant Secretary Grover B. Hill, was much more promising: “The Department recommends that everyone who has access to open sunny garden space with fertile soil should have a Victory Garden. By doing this many families will be assured of a more adequate supply of vegetables near their homes, relieving the strain on transportation and making it possible to increase the supplies for our armed forces, our allies, and the civilian population.” Hill pointed to the example of Chicago where residents had planted 12,000 gardens within the city limits. He recommended that LaGuardia form a committee of people interested in gardening in New York City and develop a program. He helpfully enclosed a copy of the Department’s brochure “The Victory Gardens Campaign.”   

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Victory Gardens Leaflet No. 4 Garden Care, Cooperative Extension Work in Agriculture and Home Economics, State of New York. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

LaGuardia still had reservations, however. In a letter dated February 5, 1943, Mary A. Smith, of Forest Hills, Queens, wrote to the Mayor, “...hearing rumors to the effect that Victory Gardens would be leased by the City to interested gardeners.” She added, “I live in Queens; am a good gardener; and can devote late afternoons and weekends to the task.”  LaGuardia replied “…the greater percentage of city-owned property, particularly in highly developed portions of our boroughs would not be suitable for gardening.” He also took the opportunity to comment that “…a great many people get the idea that all that is required to have a garden is a piece of land, make some furrows, plant some seeds, and nature will do the rest.  Little do they realize the amount of labor involved.”

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Victory Gardens Leaflet No. 1, Selecting and Ordering Seed, Cooperative Extension Work in Agriculture and Home Economics, State of New York.  Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soon, LaGuardia rallied to the idea. The files include transcripts of his popular Sunday Radio Broadcasts where he spoke about the growing demand for and interest in Victory Gardens. According to the transcript of his March 19, 1943 program on radio station WEAF, LaGuardia remarked that “Planting a Victory Garden and caring for it properly requires a lot of hard work. I’m glad that there are so many New Yorkers who realize this but who are still willing, nevertheless, to devote themselves to this job.” He also announced that potential gardeners could visit designated Parks Department offices to request a soil analysis and receive advice on its suitability for gardening.

Which brings us to Parks Commissioner Robert Moses. Needless to say, he had an opinion on the Victory Garden program. His correspondence with LaGuardia made it clear that City park land would not be offered for “...conversion... [to] farm purposes.” In typical Moses fashion, he nipped the idea in the bud: “...it would just not work.”  

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Victory Garden Issue, Journal of the New York Botanical Garden, March 1943. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“A splendid contribution.”

The victory garden subject files include many fine examples of LaGuardia’s legendary attention to all matters of City administration, large and small. On March 27, 1943, Hazel Mac Dougall, from the Civilian Defense Volunteer Office (CDVO) in Queens wrote to LaGuardia informing him that there were many vacant lots in her Borough suitable for Victory Gardens, but determining ownership was difficult. She asked if he would intercede with the City Register to waive fees charged to search for the name of the property owner. LaGuardia promptly contacted the City Register who agreed to reduce the fee to fifty cents, and to assign a clerk in each Borough to assist with the process. The Register also took the opportunity to lecture the mayor about how much work was involved in searching property records.

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Victory Garden Leaflet No. 1, United States Department of Agriculture, Extension Service, 1942.  Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Then there was Frank R. Whipple, of Chicago. He wrote to Mayor LaGuardia on September 4, 1943. He explained that he grew up on a farm and “…never lost interest in the farm or in farm products. It seemed appropriate, therefore, to have corn as a hobby and to feature it in an exhibit in my store.” He went on to explain he was expanding his exhibit to include a special section devoted to samples of corn gown in Victory Gardens, and wouldn’t Mayor LaGuardia like to ship a sample from New York City? Sure, why not. LaGuardia contacted the Commissioner of the Department of Markets who procured an ear of corn from the garden of one Mr. Brown at 5609 Clarendon Road, Brooklyn. In sending the corn to the Mayor, the Commissioner had to admit that “corn is on its way out,” and the sample was “not a very husky product,” but “the kernels are not too bad looking.” LaGuardia’s secretary duly posted the product to Chicago.

In September of 1944, five self-described teen-aged boys wrote to the Mayor and asked if they could use a vacant lot on Midwood Street, Brooklyn, “...for the purpose of a victory garden. We have had success in gardens of our own, and wish to put our experience and labors into a larger garden.” They wanted “written permission to use this land” from the Mayor. LaGuardia dispatched the letter to the Bureau of Real Estate who advised the mayor to refer the boys to their local CDVO for assistance. LaGuardia replied to the boys with that information but took the time to add “…while I know you have had fun, I also know that you are making a splendid contribution to insure Victory to our beloved Country. I might also add that the knowledge you have gained could not be learned in any classroom, and the reward for your efforts [is] something invaluable that can never be taken from you.” 

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Seed Annual for 1945, Victory Garden Issue, Stumpp & Walter Co.  Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“An amazing job.”

By 1945, the correspondence mostly concerned measuring the success of the Victory Garden program. In a letter dated March 13, 1945, Albert Hoefer, State 4-H Club Leader boasted: “One would never suspect that the territory embraced by Manhattan, the Bronx, Kings, Queens and Richmond Counties has very much suitable land for food production purposes, yet the people of these areas somehow contrived to find sufficient space for over 400,000 Victory Gardens in 1944.” In another March 1945 letter, C. F. Wedell, Victory Garden Specialist of the Cooperative Extension in the State of New York, urged LaGuardia to “speak to your great radio audience” on behalf of continuing the Victory Garden work through the 1945 growing season. “Since you with your accustomed vigor and understanding formally opened the Victory Garden Program in 1943, the gardeners of Greater New York have done an amazing job,” he concluded.

The Victory Garden story once again vividly demonstrates Mayor LaGuardia’s devotion and attention to the people and affairs of his city. His collection is one of the most engaging, entertaining, and informative of all the mayoral series in the Municipal Archives and we look forward to welcoming back researchers to explore this unique treasure in the coming months.

The Estate Inventory Collection

One year ago, the Municipal Archives closed to the public, and the staff began to work remotely from home. Archivists quickly devised workplans to improve access to several collections by transcribing hand-written information into searchable formats. Creating an index to the 1816, 1819, and 1821 “Jury” census records is one of the on-going “remote work” projects.  When completed, the index will unlock essential data (names, ages, occupations) about thousands of New Yorkers. But like other early census records there is not detailed information about the households enumerated by the census-takers. This brings us to today’s blog subject, the Estate Inventory collection. These unique records fill the gap, providing a wealth of fascinating information not comprehensively available elsewhere.

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Estate of J. Castillon, August 7, 1812. Estate Inventory Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Estate Inventory collection dates from 1790 through 1860.  There are 11,472 inventories in two series: 1790 to 1833, and 1830 to 1860. The inventories had been filed in the New York County Surrogate’s Court by appraisers appointed by the court to inventory the assets of deceased individuals.  Both series had been acquired from the Court sometime during the 1970s by the late Dr. Leo Hershkowitz, professor of history at Queens College. He incorporated the inventories into the “Historical Documents Collection” he directed at the college. The Municipal Archives accessioned the estate inventories in 1990, when his program was discontinued.  Grant funding from the New York State Library in 2007 and 2012 supported conservation treatment, microfilming, and indexing of both series. 

Each estate inventory consists of a detailed list of the decedent’s assets, including enslaved people. They typically include furniture and other items such as paintings, books, furnishings, clothing, linens, and kitchen utensils. They include real estate, cash, bank notes, bonds, and other financial assets. Each inventory ranges in length from a single page for an individual of modest means, to multiple pages for wealthy New Yorkers with many possessions. (One immediate observation in examining the inventories is that the accumulation of “stuff” is clearly not a modern phenomenon.)

Estate of Philip Andrew Collet, 1811. Estate Inventory Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The inventory for the estate of Mr. J. Castillon, who died in 1812, lists, among other assets, 19 white linen and cotton shirts, valued at $38.00; 17 handkerchiefs, eight pairs of white cotton stockings, and two pairs of woolen pantaloons. His most valuable possession, a gold watch with chain, two seals and a key, were valued at $40.00.  The appraiser was apparently unable to assign a value to “some properties at the Colonies unknown.”

The more extensive inventory of the estate of Philip Andrew Collet, from 1811, shows the care taken by the appraiser in preparing the document. Along with furniture and clothing, the appraiser listed every pot, pan, spoon and fork in the kitchen, as well as the contents of the larder.  The appraiser found 100 French Guineas, and 27 “pieces of gold of different nations” in the decedent’s household. Some inventories, like Mr. Collet’s, indicate estate expenses. This meticulous appraiser listed amounts paid to the nurse, barber, washing woman, and “Mr. Guerrin,” his doctor, among others. He also noted Mr. Collet’s will directed that his sister “in France” receive $430. Mr. Collet’s wife “now in Jamaica West Indies” would receive the remaining balance, $168.   

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Estate of Samuel Kip, 1804. Estate Inventory Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Given the time period of the series, several of the inventories list enslaved people. The 1804 inventory of Samuel Kip included “ . . . three Negro girls, Jane, Phebe, and Hannah” in his 9th Ward household. It also noted that two “Negro men slaves, the one named Jack and the other Jacob both of whom run away from the intestate in his lifetime and never have returned or been brought back and very little or no prospect remains of recovering either of them.”

One of the more striking takeaways from an examination of the inventories is how many New Yorkers owned property elsewhere, especially in the West Indies, confirming the City’s importance in the triangle of trade between Europe, America and the Caribbean. Stephen Getting’s 1807 inventory lists numerous plantations that he owned in Santo Domingo, especially in Port au Prince.  (No surprise: it also indicated that he “owned” slaves.)

The place of death of several of the decedents—Cuba, West Indies, Ireland, Germany, England—further attests to the importance of trade to the economy and wealth of the City. Inventories of decedents who owned retail establishments provide valuable information about the goods available for purchase during the first decades of the19th century. The contents of a toy-store are particularly noteworthy.

Another observation is the wide range of occupations of decedents:  baker, blacksmith, carpenter, grocer, doctor, butcher, cartman, and broker, to name a few. And the maritime basis of the city’s economy is evident in the large number of estates inventoried for seamen, shipwrights, sea captains, mariners, and pilots.

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Estate of George Baum, January 4, 1814. Estate Inventory Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Other collection highlights include a multi-page document, dated October 31, 1831, listing the possessions of Richard Varick, Esquire. James Roosevelt, a relative of the decedent’s wife, and father of the future President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, inventoried the estate. Varick, who served as Mayor of the City of New York from 1789 to 1801, died a very wealthy man with an estate valued in excess of $500,000. The estate of Albrecht Behrens, from October 1797, listed one “A. Burr” as the appraiser. Although it cannot be confirmed that this was Aaron Burr, it would seem likely, given his occupation as attorney and resident of New York City during this time period. 

Not only do the inventories add knowledge about many prominent New York families, such as the Stuyvesants, Livingstons, Vanderbilts, Roosevelts, Schermerhorns, Van Wycks, Astors, and Beekmans, they also provide valuable insight into lives of more ordinary citizens. The modest inventory of George Baum, a gardener, from 1814, is one example. His wife, Elizabeth Baum, applied her mark to the appraisal in lieu of a signature. The collection also includes inventories of women decedents. Jemima Johnson died in 1826 and left an estate valued at $87.30.

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Estate of Jemima Johnson, October 30, 1826 page 1 of 2. Estate Inventory Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

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Estate of Jemima Johnson, October 30, 1826, page 2 of 2. Estate Inventory Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Several years ago, curators from the Dyckman Farmhouse and Museum, a late-18th century house in upper Manhattan, examined the inventories for documentation to help them re-interpret and re-furnish their historic building. They explained that most of their information about the house and its inhabitants previously came from folklore and family legends. Using the estate inventories, especially those of other farm families, helped them more accurately describe what life was like when the Dyckmans operated their farm. The inventories that listed tools and farm products (“one cask of shad,” “one cask of vinegar”), and farm animals (“one gray mare,” “one sow”) were particularly useful. Some inventories also recorded the names of creditors which helped piece together family relationships.       

The Estate Inventory collection is an exceptional series, often overlooked. It affords scholars, family historians and other researchers a unique opportunity for the study of material culture during 19th century New York. The Municipal Archives looks forward to welcoming back patrons to explore this collection and many of its other treasures. 

The Inspiring Women Archive

We’re getting there! 

There are now more than 8,500 stories in the archive and it is still very much an active initiative at the Department of Records and Information Services (DORIS). It began in 2015 as part of the five-year celebration of women’s activism connected to the Suffrage Centennial. DORIS created WomensActivism.nyc to honor the anniversary of women winning the right to vote in New York State in 1917 and in the United States in 1920.

The inspiring women’s stories archive features women from around the globe who made a difference through their activism and, in turn, inspire activism today. Some are famous; many are unknown; but all have contributed to making change in some way.

What better time than Women’s History Month to consider contributing a story to the archive? Here are the stories of just three of the inspiring women included in the archive: 

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Alexa Irene Canady

Alexa Irene Canady was the first African-American woman neurosurgeon in the United States. However, her career began tentatively. She almost dropped out of college while a mathematics major, because “I had a crisis of confidence,” she has said. When she heard of a chance to win a minority scholarship in medicine, “it was an instant connection.” After earning a B.S. degree in zoology from the University of Michigan in 1971, her additional skills in writing and debate helped her earn a place in the University of Michigan Medical School, where she graduated cum laude in 1975. “The summer after my junior year,” she explains, “I worked in Dr. Bloom’s lab in genetics and attended a genetic counseling clinic. I fell in love with medicine.” In her work as a neurosurgeon, she saw young patients facing life-threatening illnesses, gunshot wounds, head trauma, hydrocephaly, and other brain injuries or diseases. Throughout her twenty-year career in pediatric neurosurgery, Dr. Canady has helped thousands of patients, most of them under the age of ten.

Such credentials still could not shield her from prejudice and dismissive comments. As a young black woman completing her surgical internship at Yale-New Haven Hospital in 1975, on her first day of residency, she was tending to her patients when one of the hospital’s top administrators passed through the ward. As he went by, she heard him say, “Oh, you must be our new equal-opportunity package.” Just a few years later, while working as a neurosurgeon at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia from 1981 to 1982, her fellow physicians voted her one of the top residents. Dr. Canady was chief of neurosurgery at the Children’s Hospital of Michigan from 1987 until her retirement in June 2001. She holds two honorary degrees: a doctorate of humane letters from the University of Detroit-Mercy, awarded in 1997, and a Doctor of Science degree from the University of Southern Connecticut, awarded in 1999. She received the Children’s Hospital of Michigan’s Teacher of the Year award in 1984 and was inducted into the Michigan Women’s Hall of Fame in 1989. In 1993, she received the American Medical Women’s Association President’s Award and in 1994 the Distinguished Service Award from Wayne State University Medical School. In 2002, the Detroit News named Dr. Canady Michigander of the Year. She is an inspiration because she was the first black woman to become a neurosurgeon.

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Michele Ciechalski

When I think of what strength looks like, the first person that comes to mind is a woman named Michele Ciechalski. Well, I call her mom. I have watched life throw so many bricks at her and she has managed to build something remarkable out of them every time. During my seventeen years of living, I have seen her go through a career change, a cancer scare, a divorce, and many more challenges. Through them all, she has stayed true to her character and never given up hope. Michele worked in a telephone company for about twenty years until she realized her true calling was to be a teacher. At forty years old and with two children, Michele went back to college to obtain a master’s degree in education. That was the first major lesson I learned from her—that it is never too late to chase your dreams. She is now a high-school teacher at Lavelle Preparatory Charter School. There are times when I feel like I am living with her students because of how often she tells us stories about them. I admire how much she cares about her students. Whenever they need help, she is there for them. From the college application process, to conflicts with other students or teachers, to personal problems, my mother will always listen and help her students as if they are her own children. Her students don’t just call her Ms. Ciechalski; some call her mom, too. Through my parents’ divorce, my mom remained my rock—even when she didn’t have someone to be hers. She was always patient with me and my sister during those trying times. As a single mother, she tries her best to give us everything we need and want, even if it means that she has to make sacrifices. At one point, Michele took on two jobs to support us. When she would return home in the evening, her mood would be just as bright as it was when she left for work in the morning. Regardless of what happens in her day, Michele never passes up a chance to dance in the kitchen with her daughters while disco music plays. Another lesson I’ve learned from her is to always find time to laugh because, if you can find something to laugh about, then you can get through any struggle. Michele is not only a great mother and an amazing teacher, she is my hero. She taught me that a queen does not need a king nor does a princess have to get saved by a prince.

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Maud Gonnne

Maud Gonne, married name Maud MacBride, (born December 21, 1866, Tongham, Surrey, England—died April 27, 1953, Dublin, Ireland), was an Irish patriot, actress, and feminist, one of the founders of Sinn Féin (“We Ourselves”), and an early member of the theatre movement started by her longtime suitor, W.B. Yeats. The daughter of an Irish army officer and his English wife, Gonne made her debut in St. Petersburg and later acted as hostess for her father when he was assistant adjutant general in Dublin. Converted to republicanism by an eviction she saw during the 1880s, she became a speaker for the Land League, founded the Daughters of Ireland (a nationalist organization), and helped to organize the Irish brigades that fought against the British in the South African War. In the meantime Gonne had become a noted actress on the Irish stage. In 1889 Yeats fell in love with her, and the heroine of his first play, Cathleen ni Houlihan (1892), was modeled after her; she played the title role when the play was first produced at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin. However, Gonne refused Yeats’s many marriage proposals. She had become involved with a French journalist in 1887 while recovering from an illness, and she later bore two children by him (a son, Georges, and a daughter, Iseult). The death of their first child, Georges, at about age two, helped to precipitate her interest in spiritualism. In 1903 Gonne married a fellow revolutionary, Major John MacBride. After suffering abuse at the hands of MacBride, she legally separated from him in 1906 and gained custody of their son, Seán MacBride, who later became foreign minister of Ireland and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. John MacBride took part in the 1916 Easter Rising, after which he was executed. Following his death, Gonne began using MacBride’s name again to advance her standing in revolutionary circles. She herself was imprisoned for six months in 1918 for her supposed involvement in a pro-German plot. A book of her reminiscences, A Servant of the Queen (i.e., Ireland), was published in 1938. Yeats’s 1893 poem “On a Child’s Death” is thought to have been inspired by the death of Gonne’s son Georges, whom Yeats thought Gonne had adopted. (The poem was not published in Yeats’s lifetime; scholars say he did not want the poem to be part of his canon, as it is of uneven quality.)

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You can add the stories of women who have inspired you from the past and the present. How about a description of your one of the thousands of essential workers who have kept our City going? Or add a story about your grandmothers. All it requires is for you to provide basic information about their lives and what makes them memorable and inspiring. Wouldn’t it be fun several years from now to go to the Archives to show younger family members the entry?

Historic District Attorney Records Capture Policewomen’s Undercover Exploits

Amongst the historical records of the New York (Manhattan) District Attorney’s office held at the Municipal Archives are the indictment files from 1916 to 1925 relating to a range of felonies; abandonment, assault, burglary, forgery, murder, rape, and numerous other criminal offenses. Some files hold only an affidavit, listing the circumstances of the case and demographics of the arrestee on bright blue card. Others consist of hundreds of pages of typed witness testimony, handwritten letters from the accused, postmarked lawyerly correspondence, notes scrawled by the district attorney, and—in one case I encountered—physical evidence from the crime scene. As such, the collection captures the work of a variety of public and private organizations, in addition to the voices of New Yorkers from all sections of society.

Curious about the history of gender and healthcare, I consulted files relating to abortion, which was illegal in New York State between 1829 and 1970. I had hoped that these records might tell me about the lives of the women that sought abortions one hundred years ago and how they came to be entangled in the criminal justice system.  

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Affidavit listing the “deponent” as police officer Brady and the circumstances of the investigation, Ada Brady v Mollie Weiser. NYDA Closed Case Files, 1917. NYC Municipal Archives.

When scrutinizing these affidavits, I noticed the same name—“Ada Brady”—repeated as the “deponent” in a number of cases in the Spring of 1917. This surprised me. We might expect the same “defendant,” accused of performing an abortion, to reappear as practitioners were arrested, released, and then rearrested. However, it seemed unusual for a woman to give evidence for having abortions on multiple occasions within a matter of months. Upon closer inspection, it emerged that Ada Brady was in fact a police officer, a member of the New York Police Department’s first generation of female investigators. Officer Brady approached suspected practitioners and pretended to be pregnant in order to furnish the evidence for prosecution.

Abortionists office, 1927, NYPD Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Women entered the New York City police force in the 1890s to work as ‘matrons,’ assigned to manage female arrestees and maintain the stationhouse environment. These women worked long shifts during the day and overnight completing this laborious work. Because of this, matrons tended to be working-class women and often widows. By the 1910s, a number of ambitious matrons—including Ada Brady and Isabella Goodwin, who would later become the first female detective in the United States—had begun to assist male colleagues on investigations by going undercover. They specialized in cases affecting women, such as fortune tellers, irregular medical practitioners, and confidence tricksters.

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Defendant Mollie Wieser’s plea statement. Ada Brady v. Mollie Wieser. NYDA Closed Case Files, 1917. NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1913, a team of matrons-turned-detectives formed “Special Squad Number Two” to investigate vice, under the direction of Lieutenant “Honest Dan” Costigan. For these female officers, abortion cases led to newspaper renown, promotions, and honor roll commendations. But policewomen were also vulnerable to exploitation within the male world of policing. To reach the evidentiary bar of intent, plainclothes policewoman underwent a pelvic exam, as the affidavit reported “[the defendant] then inserted into the deponent’s private parts a speculum.” File after file relayed this same practice. In abortion investigations a female police officer submitted to this intimate, invasive procedure in the line of duty.

Not only did abortion investigations implicate their bodies, but lawyers and judges in the Court of General Sessions trials questioned policewomen’s personal reputations; whether they were married, how many children they had, and their character. The first woman to serve as Deputy Police Commissioner, Ellen O’Grady, described the practice as “dangerous and…degrading,” as “the female representing the Police Department was forced to voluntarily participate in the commission of a crime, and became, consequently, an accessory.” 

Policewomen’s work also affected more marginalized women. Few abortion investigations targeted the affluent white doctors and their elite clientele, but rather, police focused on midwives from central, southern, and eastern Europe. Practitioners like Mollie Wieser are typical; an Austrian midwife, she provided crucial healthcare for New York’s working-class, immigrant populations. Even though most midwives avoided prison, they endured lengthy investigations, fines, equipment seizures, and news of their arrest splashed across the thriving daily press.

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Letter from defendant Elizabeth Bayer to District Attorney Edward Swann, NYDA Closed Case Files, 1917. NYC Municipal Archives

Midwives did not accept the state’s efforts to criminalize their practice, however. Elizabeth Bayer, a sixty-nine-year-old German midwife accused of abortion by Ada Brady, wrote to the District Attorney protesting her innocence. She explained that she was “33 years a midwife with a perfect record and could not have possibly committed the crime.” Attempting to use the legal system to her advantage, she offered to “waive immunity” to appear before the grand jury and “tell them my story.” Alongside narratives of police control, we hear the voices of resistance. 

As part of a National Endowment for the Humanities grant, the Municipal Archives indexed and re-housed more than 41,000 indictment files dating from 1916 to 1925. The histories of policewomen’s undercover abortion investigations were captured in just 34 of these files. Without a doubt, the collection contains further lessons about how power, policing, and punishment operated in the early-twentieth-century metropole. The importance of these perspectives is evident in Dr. Mara Keire’s current research project, Under the Boardwalk: Rape in New York, 1900-1930, that draws upon an examination of more than two-thousand rape indictments. These files record the lives of marginalized populations, often silenced in the historical record. Poor New Yorkers, women, immigrants, queer residents, and people of color, whose lives might have evaded contemporary published material but whose voices appear—albeit refracted through the judicial system—in these archives.

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Elizabeth Evens is a PhD candidate at University College London, U.K., where she researches the regulatory work of the first women in medicine and law enforcement.

The Municipal Archives collections of records pertaining to the administration of criminal justice constitute one of the most extensive research resources on the subject in North America. They currently total more than 20,000 cubic feet, and date from 1684 through 1980s. Major series include: Minutes of the New York Court of General Sessions, 1684-1920; Felony (a.k.a. New York District Attorney) indictments, 1790-1895; Dismissed New York felony indictments, 1844-1900; New York District Attorney Closed Case files, 1896-1984; Police and Magistrate Court docket books (all Boroughs), 1790-1949; New York District Attorney’s newspaper clipping scrapbooks, 1881-1937; New York District Attorney's official correspondence (letter press volumes), 1881-1937. 

WNYC-TV Archives: A Public Broadcaster for the Public Good

Over the last year, the Municipal Archives has successfully digitized hundreds of reels of film created from the 1940s through the 1980s by WNYC-TV, the city-owned television station. Although there are thousands more films to digitize, those that have already been preserved indicate the breadth and quality of subjects featured within this vast collection. From 1949 to 1981, WNYC-TV produced more than 4,000 films featuring news-worthy figures, events, developments and places, usually with sound and in full color. In addition to these films, WNYC-TV produced thousands of video tapes in the 1980s and 90s.

WNYC began as a radio broadcast station in 1924, one of the first municipal-owned stations in the country. During the early days of radio, regulatory bodies designated sections of the radio spectrum for broadcast and would lease or sell licenses to specific channels, such as WNYC or CBS. In the 1930s, like many municipalities, New York City anticipated the invention of television networks and created television broadcasting licenses to be leased in the future. Unlike most places, however, City leaders did not sell these licenses during the Great Depression, enabling them to set up municipal television stations like WNYC-TV and WNYE-TV, operated by the Board of Education, in the post-war era. Although WNYC produced several films in the 1940s and 50s, the film production expanded after WNYC-TV Channel 31 officially launched on November 5, 1961.

One of the earliest items in the WNYC-TV collection is City of Magic, a promotional film released in 1949. With a narrator speaking in the classic mid-Atlantic accent, the film celebrates New York City as the center of industry, trade, education and entertainment in the western world. There is a particular emphasis on the City’s prosperity compared with other world cities in Europe, still recovering from the Second World War.

City of Magic, 1949. WNYC-TV: Moving Images Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Although there are other productions like City of Magic, much of the WNYC-TV film collection consists of live recordings of public events, featuring local, national and international politicians and figures. President John F. Kennedy speaking at the 1962 dedication of the United States pavilion for the 1964 World’s Fair at Flushing Meadows, is one example. Introduced by Mayor Robert Wagner and Parks Commissioner Robert Moses, Kennedy echoed the sentiments found in City of Magic. In his words, visiting New York City and the 1964 World’s Fair were both opportunities for the world “to see what we have accomplished through a system of freedom.”

1964 New York’s World Fair: United States Pavilion groundbreaking ceremony with President John F. Kennedy, Mayor Robert Wagner and Robert Moses, December 14, 1962. WNYC-TV: Moving Images Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Ten years later in 1972, WNYC-TV recorded another historic public event when Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman elected to Congress, announced that she was running for president. In her speech, she rejected the “political expediency” of the Nixon administration, calling for national unity, electoral reform, environmental rehabilitation, an end to wars abroad and a greater focus on the potential of women and minorities. Our recent blog featured Chisholm’s presidential announcement captured by the WNYC-TV cameras:  Shirley Chisholm

By the 1970s, production at WNYC-TV had increased significantly, including comprehensive documentation of the administrations of Mayors John Lindsay and Abraham Beame. WNYC-TV also focused on interviewing local politicians about their policies, current events and the inner workings of City government. These interviews may have been especially needed by New Yorkers, as the 1970s saw a precipitous drop in the City’s ability to provide services that millions had come to depend on. The City’s fiscal crisis and Mayor Beame’s response are highlights of this collection.

WNYC Golden Anniversary: A. Labaton receiving the United Nations Award, speech by Lee Graham, proclamation and citations by Mayor Abraham D. Beame to Seymour Siegel, Herman Neuman and A. Labaton, July 8, 1974. WNYC-TV: Moving Images Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1974, Mayor Beame celebrated WNYC’s 50th anniversary with an official proclamation that July 8th would be known as WNYC Golden Anniversary Day. He remarked that New York City’s broadcast system remained “the only municipally owned and operated, non-commercial broadcasting complex in the United States.” This remained true until 1996, when Mayor Giuliani sold off the Municipal Broadcast System, turning WNYC radio into a private entity that is today owned and operated by New York Public Radio and the WNYC Foundation. For better or worse, WNYC’s time as an active part of City government had finally come to an end.

Now, almost a century after WNYC began providing high quality informational and cultural shows to New Yorkers, its original television productions will be made available again. With funding from the New York State Archives’ Local Government Records Management Improvement Fund, staff at the Municipal Archives began a carefully coordinated project to assess, clean, repair and create preservation-quality digital scans of the films in this unparalleled collection. In the next few months, the Municipal Archives will stream more videos from the WNYC-TV collection online. Higher resolution copies are available upon request. You can browse the online collection here and the WNYC-TV finding aid here.

The slow end of slavery in New York reflected in Brooklyn’s Old Town records

New York is a commercial city, created by the Dutch as a trading hub and expanded over centuries to become a financial and commercial center. It was governed by the rules of capitalism more than enlightenment thought or statements about freedom and equality. Nowhere is this more evident than in New York’s actions regarding enslaved people. Several collections in the Municipal Archives contain records documenting enslaved people, most notably the Common Council Papers and the Old Town Records. A sampling can be viewed here https://www.archives.nyc/slavery-records

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Town of Flatlands Slaves: Birth Register, Manumissions; Records of Personal Mortgages, 1799-1838, volume 4054, Index to manumissions. Kings County Old Town Records Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

New York City’s population of enslaved people was second only to Charleston, South Carolina. As the Northern state with the largest number of enslaved people, New York was the second-to-last to eliminate slavery—New Jersey was the last.

Chapter fourteen of the publication A Century of Population Growth from the first census to the 12th (1790-1900), issued by the United States Census Bureau, details the population of enslaved people. Titled Statistics of Slaves, it notes that the first census for the United States conducted in 1790 enumerated the 3,929,214 people in the country. The report cites 697,624 enslaved people residing in twelve states as well as Kentucky and the Southwest Territory. Vermont, Massachusetts and Maine are omitted from the analysis because slavery had either been eliminated or was not a practice in those locales.

New York State counted 21,193 enslaved people in the 1790 population as well as 4,600 free Black people. The number of enslaved people diminishes in succeeding decades due to State legislation “gradually” emancipating people until in 1840 when there were four people enumerated as slaves. In 1790, there were 7,795 enslaver households with an average number of 2.7 people in bondage in those households. That’s the average, but some founding fathers such as Robert Livingston and John Jay held more people in bondage.

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Town of Gravesend, Slave and School Records, 1799-1819, volume 3017. Kings County Old Town Records Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

In an article titled “Gateway to Freedom” historian Eric Foner estimates that two-thirds of the 3,100 Black residents of Manhattan were enslaved. “Twenty percent of the city’s households, including merchants, shopkeepers, artisans, and sea captains, owned at least one slave. In the immediate rural hinterland, including today’s Brooklyn, the proportion of slaves to the overall population stood at four in ten—the same as Virginia.”

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Town of Flatbush, Board of Health: Manumitted and Abandoned Slaves, 1805-1814. Kings County Old Town Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Foner defined Brooklyn as it is today—the entirety of Kings County. But in the late 1800s, Brooklyn was one of many towns in the county which also included Flatbush, Flatlands, and Gravesend among others, all of which had their own governments and thus, their own government records. The records from those towns in the Municipal Archives are collectively called “The Old Town Records.” Consisting largely of property assessments, meeting minutes and oyster bed permits, there are a handful of records that document enslaved people. All of these records have been digitized from microfilm and can be found on the DORIS website.

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Town of Flatlands Slaves: Birth Register, Manumissions; Records of Personal Mortgages, 1799-1838, volume 4054. Kings County Old Town Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Flatlands registry is organized in alphabetical order and each page has entries for the names of owners of slaves, the name, sex of the child and the time when born and a column for Abandoning service received. After the A-Z index there are entries attesting to the birth of children as required by law. Entries date from 1800 to 1821.

The Flatlands records include the Record of Personal Mortgages, Slaves Register, and Records of Personal Mortgages which lists children born to enslaved women. These records were created to comply with various laws passed by New York State between 1785 and 1817. Legislative bodies rarely act quickly and in the case of manumission the State Legislature took baby steps to eliminate slavery unlike counterparts in the other Northern States.

The New York Society for Promoting the Manumission of Slaves and Protecting Such as Them as Have Been or May be Liberated was formed in 1785 in New York City and consisted of Quakers and prominent men such as John Jay, Gouverneur Morris and Alexander Hamilton. Hamilton’s proposal that members must manumit their slaves was rejected by the full group. Nevertheless, the organization lobbied members of the Legislature to pass laws abolishing slavery, only to settle for the gradual emancipation.  According to Foner, resistance to abolition “was strongest among slaveholding Dutch farmers in Brooklyn and elsewhere.”

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Town of Flatlands Slaves: Birth Register, Manumissions; Records of Personal Mortgages, 1799-1838, volume 4054, page 16. Kings County Old Town Records Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The first of the manumission laws was enacted in 1799 when the white, male body passed the “Gradual Emancipation Law” that required any child born to enslaved women after July 4, 1799 to be freed. But, not so fast. Those children were required to continue serving the “owner” of his or her mother until reaching age 25 for women and 28 for men. A tricky provision of the law allowed the enslaver to make the child a charge to the local government by filing a manumission notice within one year of the child’s birth. The government would then pay up to $3.50 per month for someone to care for the child, frequently the same enslaver until age 21. The timeframe for payment and the amount of the payment were later reduced and then eliminated in 1804.

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Town of Flatbush ledger, Births and Manumissions of Slaves, 1799-1814, volume 107.  Kings County Old Town Records Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Eighteen years later, in 1817, the Legislature enacted the second of the gradual manumission laws, decreeing that enslaved people born before 1799 would be freed on July 4,1827 and that children born to enslaved mothers between 1817 and 1827 would be free after reaching age 21. The tricky math meant a child born in 1827 conceivably could have been enslaved until 1848, although the census records show that was not a common-place occurrence. By 1830 there were 75 remaining enslaved people in New York State and by 1840, there were four. But the State and the City’s economies were linked to the southern states with large populations of enslaved people. Foner wrote, “The economy of Brooklyn, which by mid-century had grown to become the nation’s third largest city, was also closely tied to slavery. Warehouses along its waterfront were filled with the products of slave labor—cotton, tobacco, and especially from Louisiana and Cuba. In the 1850s sugar refining was Brooklyn’s largest industry.”