Civil War to New Century
Dr. Boardman writes on this turbulent period:
The violent and very dramatic upheaval of the Civil War, as it affected much of the Nation, does not appear upon the records as having been very upsetting to Christian Hook. There was a big army training camp west of Hempstead, there were many young men who put down their tools and marched away to war, but there were no events that affected the community, as had been the case in the Revolution. Whereas the two centuries that had passed since the White settlers came had witnessed only gradual change, from 1860 on, the pace was greatly accelerated. Doubtless the food supply problems of a warring nation, and a growing city nearby, contributed. At any rate, the cultivation and harvesting of oysters quite suddenly became the major industry. Changes in transportation were also soon to shift trade and population centers. New communities were to rise and old ones decline. Before going into these matters, a brief review of census facts may help to follow the changes that were to take place. The Town of Hempstead had a population of just over eleven thousand. Brooklyn was still a semi-rural area across from the rising city on Manhattan. An old map of Christian Hook in 1859 shows a population of about two hundred. Mott's Landing was the center with a store and houses clustered about. There were a few centered near East Rockaway Harbor, a few along Parsonage Creek and a very few on the open farm lands that now mark the corner of Oceanside Road and Foxhurst Road. To the north, was still the pine barrens.
Names had changed but little since the time of the Revolution. While not a comprehensive list, the following are pointed out because of present day associations. On this map some of these names appear several times showing the descendants of brothers. Cited are: Abrams, Baldwin, Bedell, Brower, Carmen, Cornell, Davison, Denton, DeMott, Driscoll, Golder, Hewlett, Hults, Langdon, Noon, Miller, Pearsall, Pettit, Poole, Simonson, Soper, Southard, Story, Rhodes, Wood and Wright.
OF HUMAN INTEREST
In a review of the Civil War period in neighboring communities, a story of exceptional human interest is related in "Hick's Neck" by Betrand M. Wainger under the New York State Writer's Project of the Depression Years. It deals with people were near-neighbors of Christian Hook.
When the Civil War began and Lincoln called for volunteers, four young men who had contracted to work during the summer on the Sprague Farm north of Merrick Road asked to be released from obligation to enlist. Permission was granted and they joined the Union Army. One, Charles "Buff" Johnson was badly wounded and brought to a hospital in Washington in serious condition. When he became conscious a woman was by his side. In the course of conversation she said to him,
"If you would like, I will write your folks and tell them you will get well," then added, "Where is your home?"
"In Hempstead, Long Island," the boy replied.
"Hempstead? What part?"
"Oh, about two miles south."
"Did you know Elija Sprague?"
"Sure, I was working for him when I enlisted. I live right across the way from him."
"Is his wife, Aunt Jane, alive?"
"Why yes, sure she is."
"Then I will write her a letter," said the nurse.
Mrs. Jane Snedeker Sprague was sister to Isaac Snedeker of Hempstead. Isaac, as a boy of 19, had been in love with Liza Golder. His mother, however, opposed their marriage and, in 1823, young Isaac married Liza Simonson. The years passed; Isaac Snedeker became a leading citizen of Hempstead, president of the Board of Trustees of the Methodist Episcopal Church, colonel of a militia regiment, first chief of the Hempstead Fire Department, and a rich merchant. About 1861, Mr. Snedeker sold his business and retired; his wife had died and he lived alone in his big house on the corner of Front and Washington Streets. Very often, Jane Sprague would come to him and urge him to remarry, but he would always reply, "There is only one woman in the world I would marry, and that is Eliza Golder Bailey, and I haven't seen or hear of her for thirty years."
And then one day Jane Snedeker Sprague received a message from Washington: "I am taking care of Charles Johnson, sone of one of your neighbors, who was wounded in action. I am a widow now and have enlisted as a nurse." – Liza Golder Bailey
Mrs. Sprague put on her coat and hat and hastened to Hempstead to show her letter to her brother. Isaac said not a word, but reached for paper and pen and wrote Liza Bailey, asking her to be his wife. Liza Bailey had completely lost track of the people back home and she naturally assumed that Isaac Snedeker was a man of very modest means; so she replied that she would be happy to marry him, but she was afraid she would not be able to do the family washing! Isaac wrote and told her this would hardly be necessary, that he was a rich man now.
Liza came to Hempstead and she and Isaac were married. They lived together for ten happy years. Together, they rest in the Hempstead Cemetery, Isaac between his two Lizas.
THE OYSTER INDUSTRY
The year 1860 is given by historians as the beginning of the oyster industry. "In Freeport, Christian Hook and East Rockaway." From the earliest days, the taking of shellfish from Hempstead Bay had been a source of food and supplementary income. Doubtless the increased demand for food caused by the War added impetus. At any rate, the planting of seed oyster in beds marked by poles thrust into the mud and regarded as strictly private property came into practice. It was possible to earn a much better living by this new industry than by farming and the residents took up the business in a big way.
Soon the entire bay was staked out as leased by the Town of Hempstead. Oyster beds were recognized as the property of individuals just as the farms had been before.
These baymen would take their boats around Long Island to the Connecticut shore and thence up the main rivers to nurse oyster nurseries where sea oysters were obtained by the boat load. These were small, perhaps the size of a dime, and were grown there under a form of mass cultivation. The loads were brought home and deposited carefully in the beds of the owners. At that time, there was no pollution of the bay and the deposits of silts, with minute plant and animal life, furnished an ideal feeding ground for the oysters planted. They grew well, and there was little loss from disease or other forms of sea life.
When the crop had grown to sufficient size, the oystermen went out in winter time in small boats and tonged them up. The mass of oysters, clams and rubbish was gathered into larger boats and brought in to shore. There in sheds upon the docks, women and children helped sort out the good from the waste. Small oysters were taken back for replanting, but the shells and debris accumulated in great piles. In the memory of residents now living, these were landmarks upon the waterfront.
Parenthetically, there was a period when Oceanside Road was known as the "Oyster Shell Road" for the waste was used as grade fill to cover the roadbed and make the use of heavy wagons easier.
Later the shells were ground up and used in the poultry business. Doubtless other uses were found, for those mounds have long since disappeared.
In this, as in almost any industry, there were numerous supporting enterprises. The shopping season could be greatly lengthened by refrigeration, hence there was a great demand for ice in the springtime. This gave rise to the forming of shallow ponds of fresh water for the making of ice. This meant a short, intensive period of harvest and also the storage of the ice in warehouses. Protection of the ice against warm weather called for great quantities of salt hay, which in turn gave new impetus to an old industry: the gathering of marsh hay in summer.
Since people began working at specialized tasks and no longer raised their own food supply, there grew to be a dependence upon the general store for more of the necessities of life. Income from the oyster industry was season, but needs were constant. People brought flour, sugar and other supplies on a credit basis. As accounts were crude, the records of the number of barrels of flour were recorded on notched sticks. This early form of credit buying was known as "Purchase on Tick." Without it, suffering might have been very great. The system, one highly a matter of honor, served to draw a close bond between resident and store owner.
It could not have been seen at the time, but this economic shift figuratively thrust the community into the stream of industrial progress. An era extending back two hundred years came abruptly to an end. It had been a period of independent subsistence in which needs were met by the varied crafts and labors of the family. It became one dependent upon trade with the outside world, and in which the competitive market determined Man's course of action.
The first casualty of "progress" was the community name of CHRISTIAN HOOK. For two centuries it had been good and sufficient, giving a certain character to the people. Now "Christian Hook" oysters did not have the advertising appeal, so a new name had to be found. "Oceanville" sounded better. It was "Oceanville Oysters" that sold, and so in 1864 the new name became official.
By this time, thousands of barrels of oysters were being shipped to the New York market each season. Boat loads, tonged up or dredged, were brought in during the early afternoon, sorted packed and at evening time other boats loaded with the products would set out for the Fulton Market. It was the target to get there very early in the morning.
As the "Oceanville Oysters" were considered to be of superior quality, it was quite natural that special markets were sought. Connections were made with restaurants and hotels for direct support of premium quality at higher prices.
Mr. Harry Bristol had a chain of small restaurants that featured the Oceanville Oysters of his father-in-law, Alexander Pearsall.
In the spring of 1958, the writer was a guest of Louis Pearsall at his summer home on Pearsall's Hassock which is a marshy sandbar directly west of the Long Island Lighting Company power plant in Island Park. He called attention to the evidence of an old pier and explained that had been the dock and sheds of his great grandfather, one of the key figures in the early days of the oyster industry. Here, close by the supply, had been his shelter where he could bring in the results of his labor, quickly sort out the marketable product and get the day's shipment on its way. These were undoubtedly the oysters that were the specialty in Bristol's restaurants.
Of course, the big center was Mott's Landing where a whole community grew up. There was a general store and a truly industrial settlement though small by modern standards.
For two decades, the industry dominated the local scene and shaped the destiny of the people. As almost always has been the case with natural resources, a good thing was overworked. The intensive cultivation led to a reduction in the natural food supply of the oysters. Gradually the natural enemies of the mollusk increased in the bay waters with a resulting decline in the quality and quantity of the product. The final death knell of the industry came with the pollution of the waters. Long before this, however, the industry had ceased to be so profitable that it would warrant the labor and capital involved.
Though comparatively brief, it still was one of the most colorful eras in the long history of Long Island. Of the people who made it great, Birdsall Jackson, in his delightful book, How They Lived, has summed up the story very well:
"The Indian of our eastern states has been allotted his place in history. His deeds and misdeeds, whether justly or unjustly, have at least been well chronicled. The farmer has had some need of sympathy and help, and has well deserved them both. Returning prosperity may give him a chance to rebuild his fallen fortunes.
"But for the baymen, there seems to be little future place wither in life or history. He seems destined to pass into oblivion, unnoticed; his dialect to become a dead language; his humor and versatility to be alike forgotten."
A NEW COMMUNITY ARISES TO THE NORTH
Mr. Benjamin Simonson, one of the oldest residents of 1960, recalled that his father worked helping clear the roadbed for the railroad between Lynbrook and Freeport. It was laid through the "pine barrens" he said, north of Christian Hook. This rail connection with Jamaica and Brooklyn was destined to be the most significant event of the century for the lands south of Hempstead. Slowly at first, but then more rapidly, the freight line became the means of faster and more certain shipment of produce to the City markets. Of greater importance, it heralded the age of the suburbanite commuter.
To show the background and impact of this railroad upon the area, a few paragraphs from Mr. Floyd Waterson's "History of the Rockville Centre Schools" are quoted:
"In 1850 there were less than a dozen homes in what is now known as Rockville Centre. The Sandhole Church, the mill and now the new road its traffic of farm wagons and promise of stage coaches for the future awakened thoughts of a new community.
"Robert Pettit about 1850 bought a farm on the south side of the new Merrick Plank Road, near the present location of Park and Village Avenues. The farmhouse was situated about on the site of the southeast corner of Village Avenue and Merrick Road. He started a store in the house and with the dream of starting a new community applied for permission to locate a post office in his store.
"Of course, to have a post office, the locality must have a name. Mr. Pettit and his neighbors, all of whom were interested in the project conferred on the selection of a suitable name for the new settlement. They seemed unanimous in desiring to name the little village in honor of the most illustrious and beloved citizen of the community; a "wreck-master," a farmer, the owner and operator of the local gristmill with its carding and fulling machines, and the past of the Sandhole Church, Rev. Mordecai (Rock) Smith."
They thought of "Rockville" but there was already a "Rockville, N.Y." so the name Rockville Center was finally adopted.
Soon real estate firms were buying up land offering parcels as residential sites. Business was moving. At the same time that the people of Christian Hook were opening up the oyster industry and Rockville Centre was coming into existence, a steamship line was in operation between East Rockaway and Brooklyn. A local advertisement for travel showed that stage connections to the steamship were in operation. Connections were from Freeport, Baldwin and Rockville Centre early in the morning to the dock in East Rockaway with expected time of arrival of the boat in Brooklyn at 11:00 a.m. The return boat left Brooklyn at 1:30 p.m. Christian Hook is not mentioned in the stage schedule since the dock was so very nearby. Its eastern residents actually shared the convenience of being the "home port" of the steamship line.
Soon after the end of the Civil War, plans for the extension of the railroad from Jamaica were promoted. There had been a line between Jamaica and Brooklyn for thirty years and there had been plans for a spur line to Hempstead which boomed real estate but did not come into being at the time. Now the rail line from Jamaica was pushed along the South Shore to Freeport. The ceremonial steam train came to Rockville Centre in 1867 and was received with a great celebration as well it should.
By 1870, there were six trains daily each way to and from Jamaica and the first stirrings of Suburbia were felt.
Among the first new residents in Rockville Centre were a number of retired sea captains. It is strange that the inhabitants of the new and soon overshadowing community would be of the "elite" rivals of the small boat handlers of Christian Hook.
Where there is not much on the records, it is apparent that a deep seated rivalry grew quickly between the two communities. Christian Hook, or Oceanville as it now wished to be known, was based upon farming and industry. It held a dominant role as such. For two hundred years the population had been constant and the same family names that appeared with the settling of the land were those of the current owners.
Now the combination of new transportation and real estate promoters brought a rush of new personalities with far different backgrounds and interests.
The Sandhole Church which had served as the Methodist background of Pearsall's Corners, Christian Hook and lands about did not meet the spiritual needs of the newcomers. A new Methodist Church in Rockville Centre was established. A Baptist Church followed immediately.
There was unrest in the school situation. For well over a century the school had been at the corner of what is now Oceanside Road and Foxhurst Road. It was a very modest affair geared to a very rural area and not in keeping with the concepts of education held by the newcomers. A newspaper had been started in the new community and it took up the cry for a local school, taught by "a normal school graduate," the paper said.
Perhaps the school situation reflects the changing times and the conflict of ways of people more effectively than the new fire companies, new churches and other civic improvements that came rushing in with the first radical change in life since the coming of the White Man. Here, settled around the harbor were the fisherman-farmers. They were the same families, in about the same number, living much as their forefathers had done. Theirs was the center of activity and to their north was open country. Now came this dramatic change in transportation, the railroad. With it came new people who cared naught for tradition, customs or the established institutions. The school in Oceanside must have been a pretty inadequate affair, serving but a few children and providing those with a limited opportunity. The people of the new settlement to the north were very right in wanting a school of their own under a trained teacher. But it was a revolution to the older settlers. This was the school; it had been good enough for their fathers and grandfathers; it should be good enough for the "foreigners" moving in. What if it were two miles away? "I walked and it didn't hurt me;" so they opposed every change.
On the other hand, here came people from the city caring not at all for the fine traditions of the land. In their feeling of bustle and success they were quick to discard all that was fine of the past. It was a new day and a new deal. Naturally, they looked down upon the established people and were not slow to show their contempt for those who lived differently than themselves. The term "clamdigger" was applied to the people who earned their living along the bay. It was broadened to apply to all living within the locality and carried an uncomplimentary implication. It was bad enough to have their world upset by the changing socio-economic order, but to have this term, applied in derision, cut deeply and created a wound that was slow to heal.
THE SAGA OF THE MARKET WAGON
As New York City grew, its demands for fresh farm products kept pace and it became highly profitable for the "Oceanville" farmers to place their crops upon the wholesale markets located in Brooklyn. While the boats and railroad were used to an extent, a direct wagon haul became the most practical means of operation.
The general pattern was for the farmer to gather a wagon load of fresh produce during the morning hours. In mid-afternoon the team would be hitched to the wagon and the long journey started. A problem of route confronted the driver. There was a good road from home to Hempstead and from there to the city. There was also a plank toll road from near Valley Stream to the city, but the connecting way was sandy and difficult. It was a slow, tough haul for the team if the load was heavy. One practice was to double-team to the toll road, then leave one pair of horses there. The other was to take the time and labor of the trip to Hempstead thence by the longer but easier way to market.
Wagons usually arrived late at night or very early in the morning. A "stand" or location at the market was then taken and perhaps a few hours rest was possible for the driver before the market opened.
Here the man who was primarily a grower of produce had to become a salesman. A substantial part of a year's income depended upon his ability to sell, as well as upon the current demand of the market. He might soon start for home with an empty wagon and pocket of cash or he might, after long hours of fruitless effort, have to dump his load and return home in bitter disappointment.
With his goods sold, the perils were not always over. Inns along the way were on the alert for those returning drivers with money. There are sad stories of the faithful team that plodded the final miles of the return journey unguided, bringing the wagon home with the master on its floor in alcoholic stupor, minus cash. All the labor with hopes of financial return lost at the bar or to dishonest companions. The bills at the store for necessities unpaid and dreams of a few luxuries for the family dashed.
These were the exception. Generally, men stopped only to fee their horses and then pushed on home for rest. Obligations of the long winter season when there had been no income and goods obtained on credit could be paid off and a new start made.
Some enterprising individuals developed an intermediate business. A tradesman would go from farm to farm buying up eggs, poultry, lambs, calves and pigs. This live stock would then be killed, dressed and packed for the next days' drive to the market. These men, by their knowledge of their markets, timing, special customers and other means had a sure sale for their goods and did a profitable business. In turn, they rendered a great service by the conversion to money the small quantities that farmers might have which would not justify the individual trip to the city.
The sage of "going to market" continued down into the present century. It has its counterpart today in the big truck loads of ducks, potatoes and cauliflower that may now be seen rumbling along Sunrise Highway from eastern Suffolk to the city markets. It is doubted that this mechanical, highly efficient modern version of the saga has the romance and drama of those hardy men and their faithful horses that strained at the traces to haul their load through the sand bogs and over the plank road to Brooklyn.
From the practical, economic standpoint, this direct market trade made a great contribution to the welfare of the community and helped shape its destiny. It gave farming, hard hit by the competition for labor by the oyster industry, a new lift. As a result many families combined farm operation with their oyster business. Gradually, the very large farms that could succeed only by cheap labor were broken up into small holdings which the members of the family could work in conjunction with bay activity. The full time employment, higher wages and higher prices for produce, raised the standard of living.
FROM OCEANVILLE TO OCEAN SIDE
As competition in the oyster market changed the name from "Christian Hook" to "Oceansville" so a growing world relationship again dictated a change. Post recognition became important. However, there already was an "Oceanville" and the authorities would not accept it as the legal name. "Ocean Side" as two words was proposed and in 1890 became official. Movement for the further change to one word as in common usage today came in 1918.
CIVIC LIFE
Much has been written about the country store or the village blacksmith shop as a civic forum in American life. Oceanville or Oceanside had true prototypes of both. Founded by Captain Bedell in the 1860's and later owned by Mr. Lorenzo Davison, such a store stood on what is now the northeast corner of Oceanside and Foxhurst Roads. It included a full range of supplies for rural life and from the memory of the sons and daughters of those who gathered there, it was all that the American tradition implies. Further, it housed the post office from 1892 to 1914.
Prices of produce, wages and local political issues were settled. No doubt the solutions to state and national issues were advocated with complete assurance. Certainly the aspiring politicians made it their business to be known there.
From 1881 until his death in 1933, Mr. William Rhodes operated a blacksmith shop on Long Beach Road at a location on its west side just south of the point where Fairview Avenue comes in. In an age when horses were the basis of power and the iron work for home or business was forged locally, the village smith was a most important person. Mr. Rhodes was skilled in the making of tongs, clam rakes, boat hardware, wagon and farm implement repair as well as the fitting of horse shoes.
Long after the store on Oceanside Road had ceased to function, the blacksmith shop remained in business. As the decline in need for horses and the highly specialized modern repairs of equipment caused the shop to become nearly idle, it was the gathering place of the men who had been the thought and business leaders of a past generation.
OTHER BUSINESS ENTERPRISE
As for other early business enterprises, the excellent research of Mrs. Frances Heinley (nee Weaver) is present as she as stated it:
"There were other stores in town. Henry Mott's at Mott's Dock served the same purpose for the people in the Neck. Mr. Mott specialized in equipment for the baymen. Phoebe Ryder ran a general store about 1880. It was on the corner of what is now Davison Avenue and Long Beach Road. Everything you could think of was sold there. In fact, the old timers said ‘You could buy anything but coffins'. Mrs. Ryder was a widow and, to drum up trade, she used to take her wagon loaded with products and drive it to South Oyster Bay and to what is now called Lawrence, Cedarhurst and Inwood. All her labor meted her only a few dollars, as most of her customers swapped butter and eggs for groceries. Then too many people bought their groceries "on tick," especially during the winter. When spring and summer came and the farmers could sell their produce at market, they would take part of the money and pay the general store keeper. It was necessary that Mrs. Ryder get enough money from her customers to pay on the line for the flour she bought. For this reason the farmers usually paid for their barrels of flour by September so that their credit could be good for the next winter. Mrs. Ryder usually sold "on tick" from one to three barrels of four for each family.
"In 1890, Horning and Sons conducted a brass works, Gritman was a showmaker, and until 1905 Mr. Gildersleeve conducted a butcher shop, and there were several wheelwrights. In 1882 Mr. Soper also conducted a store, and sometime later, on Brower Avenue, he had a sawmill which he ran by steam. In 1900, a water power sawmill was operated at the east end of Ocean Side.
"As years went on various other types of farms came into being. Thomas Knight was the first man to bring the Jersey cow to Oceanside, in fact to Long Island. He bred his own stock and would often sell a single calf for $600. Mr. Knight also had the first milk route in Oceanside. He supplied residents who could not afford to own cows of their own, or who specialized in some other phase of farming. Eventually Mr. Knight sold his cows and turned to breeding fine horses, which he raced at the Mineola Fair."
(It should be added that his farm was south of the Pettit Farm, including what is now Knight and Frederick Streets.)
