Category Archives: U.S.

The Plaza Hotel in Nogales, Sonora, and the Americana Hotel in Nogales, Arizona, both charged $50 for a single room. But while the Mexican hotel was only two years old, it was already falling apart: the doors did not close properly, the paint was cracking, the walls were beginning to stain. The Americana Hotel in Nogales, Arizona, was a quarter century old and in excellent condition, from the fresh paint to the latest fixtures. The air-conditioning in the Americana Hotel was quiet, unlike the loud clanking across the border. There was no mold or peeling paint in the swimming pool outside my window. Here there was potable tap water. Was the developed world, I wondered, defined not by its riches or a lighter skin color but by maintenance? Maintenance indicates settlement rather than nomadism; faith in–and thus planning for–the future, rather than the expectation that what is here today might be gone tomorrow. Maintenance indicates organization, frugality, and responsibility: you don’t build what you lack the money, the time, and the determination to maintain. Maintenance manifests a community and a system of obligation, without which substantial development is unlikely. Maintenance reflects the prudent use of capital.

SOURCE: An Empire Wilderness: Travels into America’s Future, by Robert D. Kaplan (Vintage, 1998), pp. 139-140

Harlem, founded in 1657, is probably the oldest true suburb of New York City. Only eight miles from City Hall, it first held the country homes of the gentry, and their horse races were held along Harlem Lane, later St. Nicholas Avenue. When elevated tracks reached the area in 1878-1881, it became accessible to downtowners fleeing Italian and Jewish immigrants. As a result, a building boom soon changed the bucolic face of Harlem into posh elegance. The area was now symbolized by the magnificent rows of townhouses commissioned by David King in 1891 and designed by architects like James Lord, Price and Luce, and McKim, Mead and White. The Irish populated the streets west of Eighth Avenue; a “little Italy” was growing east of Third Avenue; and a “little Russia” could be found below 125th Street between Fifth and Seventh Avenues; but Harlem proper remained the home of the elite.

Then in 1904/5, there occurred the inevitable bust after a speculative boom, and Harlem suddenly had a glut of housing that had to be let. Until this time, the black presence in Harlem had been restricted to the role of menials. But the riot of 1900, the massive dislocations caused by the construction of Pennsylvania Station, and the completion of the Lenox Avenue subway line suddenly coincided with the availability of uptown housing. The Afro-American Realty Company was organized to place blacks into the vacant apartments, and it mattered little how many tenants combined to pay a single rent. Within a decade, fifty thousand blacks had come to Harlem, and their downtown churches soon followed the northward exodus. Harlem, a black community with good housing, community churches, and a sense of growth became the natural mecca for migrating blacks.

By 1920, when more than 109,000 blacks lived in Manhattan, it was clear that the continuing influx of newcomers was overwhelming Harlem’s resources. Real estate ownership remained in white hands, but repairs were inadequate and the area was already becoming a slum. High rents remained the rule, but the low-income jobs available to blacks made it impossible for all but a few to avoid overcrowding. With the increasing density of population, the pathology of ghetto life took hold. Vice and policy gambling, narcotics addiction, and juvenile delinquency were, in the 1920s, recognized as community issues. Harlem also had the worst rates of infant mortality and incidence of tuberculosis in New York.

Harlem had no effective political voice to plead its cause; its nominal representatives were white and uncaring. Flamboyant leaders such as Father Divine, Marcus Garvey (1887-1940), and Sufi Abdul Hamid offered charisma rather than reform proposals, and even they still had to compete with more traditional political types such as Charles Anderson (1866-1938) for the allegiance of a community in chaos. Ultimately no one spoke effectively for Harlem. By 1930, more than 200,000 of the 327,706 blacks in New York City were packed into the two square miles of Harlem, but their potential power was dissipated by ignorance, lack of leadership, and poverty; half of Harlem’s population was on relief as the Depression began.

Amazingly, out of the decay of the 1920s came the discovery of hope and pride through the discovery of the black past. The Harlem Renaissance set a literary standard of excellence. The white theater at least recognized blacks in plays such as Green Pastures, The Emperor Jones, and Porgy and Bess, and jazz and the blues were centered in Harlem. White visitors from downtown, led by Jimmy Walker himself, made certain cabarets nationally prominent. In 1934, two white businessmen purchased a failed burlesque house, refurbished it, booked Bessie Smith (1845-1937), and opened the Apollo Theater on 125th Street. Could La Guardia, who came from Italian East Harlem, relate to a community without leaders?

La Guardia almost immediately made a symbolic administrative gesture of great importance to blacks: he created the New York Housing Authority in 1934. Black areas had the fewest social services, the least amount of parkland, and the greatest concentration of crime and illiteracy in the city. Beyond this, a majority of New York’s working blacks in the 1930s earned less than $1,000 yearly. If the city made it a policy to provide the most deprived with better housing, it would show a concern that not even the black elite of 139th Street’s “Striver’s Row” felt for the residents of Harlem. La Guardia tried but failed.

SOURCE: New York City: A Short History, by George J. Lankevich (NYU Press, 2002), pp. 170-171

On June 3, 1621, a twenty-four-year charter was awarded to the Dutch West India Company, a corporation modeled on its great East India predecessor. These two Dutch companies were the world’s largest corporations, possessing at least ten times the capital of Britain’s Virginia Company. The primary purpose of the new enterprise was to expand trade for the Netherlands throughout the vast area between West Africa and Newfoundland. The company decided that a permanent settlement in the area visited by Hudson would help achieve that goal. Rules for the new colony, an Artikelbrief, were drawn up in March 1623, and a group of Walloon families led by Cornelius May was sent out in 1624 on the Nieu Nederlandt. The settlers were given strict instructions not to trade with foreigners and were scattered from Fort Orange (Albany), to Fort Nassau (Gloucester, New Jersey), to Nut Island in New York Bay. More settlers arrived in August 1624, and soon huts were located at Wallabout Bay on the Brooklyn shore and on the fringes of Manhattan. From these varied sites, furs valued at 27,000 guilders were exported to Holland in that year. By April 22, 1625, a settlement known as New Amsterdam had been established on the southern tip of Manhattan Island. Dutch New York was being created.

Although it was not the first settlement created by the Dutch, New Amsterdam rapidly became the focus of Holland’s presence in the New World. Cattle, farm equipment, and additional settlers came from across the ocean, and the company also dispatched a rather inept leader named William Verhulst, who, initiating a grand tradition, diverted fur revenues to his private account. Kryn Fredericks, an engineer dispatched from Amsterdam in 1625, designed a fort with star-shaped bastions and also selected the site for the State Street windmill, the town’s most distinctive early structure. Land for farms and roadways was surveyed, and both the governor’s house and the company office were placed inside the fort. Bouweries, or farms, soon appeared as the employees of the Dutch West India Company settled in for what all hoped would be a self-sustaining and prosperous colonial venture. Although the English Crown also claimed the area, the Dutch had the advantage of occupancy. For the next forty years, a rhetorical game of imperial and commercial bluff between New Amsterdam and New England continued, but in practice, the Dutch settlement on Manhattan had established its primacy.

The West India Company sought profits for Amsterdam by imposing commercial order on New Amsterdam and the New Netherlands. Its directors quickly realized that Verhulst was a bungler, and on May 4, 1626, Peter Minuit (1580-1638) arrived as the new steward of corporate interests. Minuit brought with him two hundred more settlers as well as instructions to strengthen the company’s corporate position by purchasing Manna-hatin from the Indians. Within three weeks, Minuit had made a deal with the Canarsie Indians, giving the Dutch title to Manhattan’s twenty-two square miles. The price, sixty guilders, or $23.70, certainly marks Minuit as one of the shrewdest real estate operators of all time, for the land is today valued in excess of $60 billion. In fact, however, Manna-hatin was not really “owned” by any tribe, and on top of that, the Indian negotiators gave Minuit a worthless deed. The Canarsie lived primarily on Long Island and used the island between the rivers only as a hunting and trading site. Later, the settlers had to negotiate additional purchases with Indian tribes living near the Washington Heights area, Indians whose claim to the land was at least equally questionable. In any case, Native Americans played little role in the development of New York.

SOURCE: New York City: A Short History, by George J. Lankevich (NYU Press, 2002), pp. 4-5

What about all those Mohawk ironworkers and skywalkers?

Fernando Wood was one of the most charming rogues ever to serve as mayor of New York. In his later years, he adopted a debonair and elegant bearing, but that pose was far removed from his origins and character. The son of a cigar maker, Wood successively owned a cigar shop, ran a dockside tavern, and operated a fleet of sailing vessels, managing to amass a fortune before the age of forty. He served a term in Congress as a loyal follower of Tammany, and in 1850, as an adventurer just back from San Francisco and the gold rush, he ran for mayor, only to lose to the Whig coalition. His already rather unsavory reputation did not help his cause, and diarist Philip Hone noted that “the incumbent of this office should be at least an honest man. Fernando Wood, instead of occupying the mayor’s seat, ought to be on the rolls of the State prison.”

By 1854, however, Wood had somewhat overcome his past reputation and was acting as conciliator to bring together all the diverse groups within the Democratic spectrum. Although his loyalty to Tammany was certain, Wood tapped into voters’ anger at the Forty Thieves and spoke the language of reform. Historically, it was one of Tammany Hall’s most endearing traits that it periodically demanded a purging of the system, a cleansing that only it could administer. In 1854, Wood’s campaign promised to restore lost honor to city politics. He promised also to obtain from Albany greater home rule for the city, to limit both prostitution and gambling, and get animals off the city streets. On November 7, he was elected because the Irish Sixth Ward cast four hundred more votes for him than it had registered voters. The first of New York’s modern bosses came to power in a fashion soon to become familiar….

During the presidential race of 1860, both Wood and the Tammany organization agreed that abolitionism rather than slavery was the cause of America’s difficulties. In good demagogic fashion, Wood denounced the Republican Party as a “fiend which stalks within the narrow barrier of its Northern cage” and contrasted this with the nationwide support enjoyed by Democratic candidates. Both Wood and Tammany did their best to elect Stephen A. Douglas in 1860, and the “Little Giant” received twice as many votes in Manhattan as did Lincoln, although the Republicans carried New York State. Wood sincerely believed that much of New York’s prosperity depended on its Southern connections and that an accommodation with the planter aristocracy was in the city’s best interest.

After Lincoln’s election–indeed after South Carolina had seceded–this belief led to an extraordinary mayoral message to the Common Council on January 7, 1861. Wood suggested that Manhattan, in combination with Staten Island and Long Island, secede from the United States and become an independent city-state. The financial basis of this new entity would be secure because of its trade dominance and the enormous tariffs it was certain to collect. Although most people ridiculed the idea, it did not become “outrageous” until war erupted in the spring and buried the plan.

When the South fired on Fort Sumter, Wood proved capable of reversing himself. He ordered Mozart Hall [his own creation in opposition to Tammany Hall after the latter disowned him] to organize a volunteer regiment and waved the flag of patriotism as fervently as anyone else did. But he never really seemed to favor active prosecution of the war, and the conflict marked the end of his career as Manhattan’s leading political figure. His ambivalence toward the Union tinged Mozart Hall with treason, and when the mayor sought reelection in December 1861, he finished third. His only accomplishment was to cost Tammany Hall the election by splitting the Democratic vote. In time-honored fashion, Wood now made a deal with the organization he had so long fought. Tammany Hall agreed to pay Wood’s campaign debts and to nominate him to Congress in 1862 if he removed himself from city politics. Duly elected to Congress, Wood became a leader of the nation’s “Peace Democrats” for the duration of the war. He ultimately served eight terms in Congress and became influential in currency and tariff policy.

SOURCE: New York City: A Short History, by George J. Lankevich (NYU Press, 2002), pp. 94-95, 99-100