NO stranger to the place, or to history, a Newark newspaper correspondent ascended to the third story of that city’s Library Hall, where beneath the façade’s stone crenellations was lodged the library of the New Jersey Historical Society. On his visit the writer lingered, momentarily, before two of several pictures that hung about the walls: … More 082–A house divided
SIX mornings of every seven, William A. Whitehead stepped aboard a rail car at Newark’s Centre Street depot. His train crept briefly north, then eastward to cross the Passaic River. Getting up speed, the engine trailed a thick plume of smoke and cinders along its flat, straight course through the Kearny meadows. Once over the … More 081–The monopolists
TO the east of the village of Newark, waterways were the natural and, for almost a century, the only practical way of moving produce and passengers. Sloops, flatboats and periaugers took on and discharged their cargoes at landings all along the banks of the region’s rivers and streams. But vessels heading for the New York … More 080–The trembling earth
NEAR a bend in the Raritan River now crossed by hundreds of thousands of motorists every day, there was once little to disturb the routine movements of birds, beasts and tides except an occasional transit by raft or canoe. Here the river was met by what, in the imagination of William A. Whitehead, served as … More 079–Travelling facilities
IF a “riot,” by the usual common law definition, requires an unauthorized gathering of more than two people, then behold a Newark riot that wasn’t, until it was.1 The initial upheaval, from a man wielding an axe and with the aid of his employer, happened so quietly and left so slight a wound that few even … More 078–Groundless
(This story includes a death by suicide.) “FRANK Forester,” as he was already widely known, came to Newark trailing tragedy and grief. Death had claimed his young wife the year before; their infant daughter, too. He agreed to a further bereavement, sending off his four-year-old son to be raised in the home of the lad’s … More 077–Infelicissimus
WHERE the surest token of wealth and worth, present and future, is the land that one owns, possession of an unsullied title and clear delineation of boundaries are somewhat akin to godliness. Landholding has been construed, historically, as compliance with the injunction in the book of Genesis to “be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the … More 076–The saints of old
NO human lives were lost when fire destroyed Edward Stewart’s United States Hotel. But upon the plight of hundreds already dead, the 1844 blaze cast a lurid glow.1 Stewart’s hotel stood upon ground that the first settlers of Newark had early reserved for common use. Thirty years after their arrival, the dimensions and limits of … More 075–Old Mortality
FACED with an array of nineteenth-century scrapbooks, historians will likely nod in agreement with one of the more intrepid investigators of such specimens, who pronounced them both “tantalizing” and “impossibly frustrating.” While a scrapbook promises a window on its creator’s private past, the practice of scrapbook-making also obscures, even destroys, the context and sometimes the … More 074–Scissors paper paste
FIRST, there’s the name of the place. When linguist John Heckewelder took down Indian toponyms, he rendered “the bear’s mountain” in Latin letters as machktschúnk. William A. Whitehead, after a visit in 1830 to the Lehigh Valley settlement of this name, gave the pronunciation mauchunk. Today, standard practice comes nearer to the mauk chunk favored … More 073–The ride of a lifetime