Food

From Marketfield to the Greenmarket, Part II: The Market Man

This is Part 2 of a series. Read Part 1

Thomas F. De Voe in his Jefferson Market butcher stall. Frontispiece to The Market Assistant, 1867. Robert Hinshelwood, from a sketch by T.F. De Voe. Courtesy New York Public Library.

From the earliest days of the Dutch colonial settlement, butchers were at the top of the market hierarchy and their profession was tightly regulated. By the 1800s, their status was signaled by their attire, as they had taken to wearing tall top hats and tails as part of their work outfit—a look that might be familiar from the character of “Bill the Butcher” in the film Gangs of New York. In the 1850s, a well-respected Jefferson Market butcher by the name of Thomas F. De Voe, by his telling, was searching for something to do in his leisure hours. An officer of the 8th Regiment with an interest in military history, he visited the New-York Historical Society and was “bitten by a rabid antiquary.”[1] Discovering the Records and Files of the Common Council [now held by the Municipal Archives] he realized that they contained a wealth of historical information about his profession. (In actuality, he may have been conducting research to better represent himself and other butchers in regulatory matters.)

Petition of Thomas F. De Voe, Butcher, 1854. Board of Alderman, Approved Papers. NYC Municipal Archives. De Voe petitioned the Committee on Markets in 1849 and again in 1854 detailing what he saw as actions by the Superintendent of Markets that undercut the value of his stall. He later had a printed version of his 1854 petition produced but the Market Committee files include his handwritten copy and pages of his testimony before the Boards of Aldermen and Councilmen of the City.

Encouraged by the Historical Society librarian to write a paper on the subject of markets, De Voe soon entered the circle of mid-19th century historians who were preserving the history of the City, including D.T. Valentine, Clerk of the City, and E.B. O’Callaghan, who was busy translating the Dutch records of New Amsterdam. After a well-received 1858 presentation of his paper at Cooper Union, De Voe published in 1862 The Market Book: Containing a historical account of the public markets of the cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Brooklyn with a brief description of every article of human food sold therein, the introduction of cattle in America, and notices of many remarkable specimens. For its time, it is a masterpiece of research. Drawing on his own experiences and using the writings of O’Callaghan and Adrian Van der Donck for Dutch history, and the records of the Common Council for colonial history, he detailed every bit of minutia on markets from the 1600s to the 1800s. The scholarly respect was mutual, as D.T. Valentine commissioned him to write a history of the “Old Fly Market Butchers” for his manual of 1868. Only volume 1 of the Market Book, on the public markets of New York, was published, but in 1866 De Voe published a paper Abattoirs and in 1867 he published The Market Assistant, containing a brief description of every article of human food sold in the public markets of the cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn including the various domestic and wild animals, poultry, game, fish, vegetables, fruits, &c., &c. with many curious incidents and anecdotes. It included several engravings from sketches by De Voe, including a frontispiece of the man himself in his shop.

The original Fulton Market buildings, Fulton Street and Market, 1828. George Hayward for D.T. Valentine’s Manual of 1854. NYC Municipal Library.

Petition for a new market at Fulton-Slip, 1821. Common Council Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Petition against the removal of the Fly Market, 1821. Common Council Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Catharine Market, 1850. George Hayward for D.T. Valentine’s Manual for 1857. NYC Municipal Library.

De Voe’s descriptions are rich in details not just of food but in character studies. One of his most-cited passages is his description of “dancing for eels” at the Catharine Market.[2] The Catharine Market started in the late 18th Century as a humble butcher shed. Later a fishmonger’s stall was added, but in 1799 a petition was submitted for “a new and enlarged market-house.”[3] The elegant market-house was finished the following year and it became known for its Sunday eel market and as an ethnic mixing place. In the waning days of slavery in New York, enslaved African Americans from towns in Long Island, on leave for holidays such as pinkster, would sell whatever they could gather at the Catharine Market. To make a few shillings more, they would sometimes dance on a thin board or “shingle” for coins or pieces of eel at the close of the market. As these dances became a more frequent tradition, competitors from New Jersey, after dropping the farmer’s produce at the westside Bear Market would hurry over to compete. After a time, free African American residents of Manhattan came to the market to dance as well, and “if money was not to be had ‘they would dance for a bunch of eels or fish.’”[4] This tradition of “dancing for eels,” with competitive dance circles that would be familiar to the modern eye, had a long-lasting influence on dance. A popular mid-century play New York As It Is included a minstrel Dancing for Eels scene, which in turn inspired several lithographs, further cementing it in American culture. Some scholars suggest that tap dance was born here at the Catharine Market from a mix of African and Irish dance traditions. Dance steps developed here can still be seen today in modern hip-hop styles.[5]

The Ground Plan of the Fourteen Markets of the City of New-York, July 1st, 1835. Common Council Market Committee, NYC Municipal Archives. The number of markets in New York City doubled in the early 19th Century, and two new large-scale markets appeared. The Fulton Market was established in 1822 to replace the old Fly Market, but a new market building (shown here) was built in the 1830s. Washington Market in Tribeca was erected in 1813, with expansions in the 1820s and 1834 making it the largest wholesale market in the City. These markets were joined by Grand Street, Greenwich, Gouverneur, Centre, Essex, Franklin, Manhattan, Clinton, Tompkins, and Jefferson Markets. The Monroe Market would replace the Grand Street in 1836, and the Harlem Market was established in 1838, although De Voe notes a butcher shed stood at 120th Street and Third Avenue since 1807.

In 1872 Thomas De Voe gave up his butcher stall to become Superintendent of Markets under the reform-minded comptroller Andrew Haswell Green. The following year he produced a Report upon the present condition of the public markets of the city and county of New York. His report to Green would present “historical incidents as regards the age of the present market buildings; their past mode of management or mismanagement…” in his typically colorful language. He detailed the thirteen markets then active in the City: Washington, West Washington, Fulton, Centre, Clinton, Catherine, Jefferson, Tompkins, Essex, Union, Gouvernour, Franklin, and the 18th Ward Market.[6]

View of Washington Market, Fulton and Washington Street, 1859. D.T. Valentine’s Manual, 1859. NYC Municipal Library.

De Voe first addressed the largest market, the Washington, located between Greenwich, Fulton, West and Vesey streets. De Voe found the state of the market to be “generally in bad order and very much out of repair…. The two-story building on Washington Street (which had formerly sustained the fire-bell in its tower) was imminently dangerous, being in a condition at any moment to fall in and crush all beneath.” Under the floors he found that “black stagnant mud, water, animal and vegetable putrefactions had become detrimental to health and life.” The market was overseen by three “worse-than-useless officials…” who De Voe fired and replaced with “two efficient men” who were able to seize unwholesome food and suspend cheating vendors. He also installed proper sewage, drainpipes and three hydrants to better fight fires and to flush away waste.[7]

New Fish Market, New York City, ca. 1869. Theo. R. Davis, retrieved from the Library of Congress. In 1869 the Fulton Fishmonger’s Association built a new waterfront market opposite the existing Fulton Market where boats could unload their catches directly into the market.

De Voe found similar levels of disrepair and corruption throughout the markets and seems to have attacked the problems with a reformer’s zeal. Catharine Market, once charming, was long neglected and had large holes in the roof. He fixed the holes but stated whenever he looked at the “rusty fronts, roofs and side, their framed windows, doors and other woodwork, I can imagine that I can hear or feel grating on my senses the sound paint! paint!!—paint me!!!”[8] The Jefferson Market, De Voe’s former place of business, was similarly distressed, but work was already underway on the courthouse that would replace it.

Pushcart peddlers in the Lower East Side, ca. 1890. Hand-colored glass lantern slide. Department of Street Cleaning collection, NYC Municipal Archives. After the Civil War, the population of New York increased dramatically, putting enormous stress on the existing markets. As always happened, unlicensed vendors filled both a commercial need and a desire for the ethnic foods of immigrants.

More generally De Voe was concerned with the quality of food coming into the city, especially animals that had been distressed before slaughter or improperly killed. In 1866 the New York State Legislature had created the Metropolitan Board of Health. One of their first targets were outdated market regulations, particularly with regards to butchers and slaughterhouses.[9] Animal slaughtering and processing had already so polluted the Collect Pond that it was drained and filled with landfill in 1811, but the carting of offal and animal hides across town to the candle makers or tanneries was a source of increasing complaints as the more fashionable residents of the city pushed uptown. De Voe worked with the Board of Health to seize animals or meat not fit for market. The markets themselves and the surrounding unlicensed vendors also presented an enormous daily challenge to street cleaning. Numerous 19th Century laws tried to tackle the issue, such as requiring vendors to keep a trash bin at their stalls.

De Voe also called for more oversight to protect the public from “improper and unwholesome” food, better market buildings, and a reining in of unlicensed stalls and pushcarts. Pushcart vendors first appeared on Hester Street in 1866, setting up informal markets. The problem of pushcarts would only grow in the 20th century, with new waves of immigration, to the consternation of a succession of mayors.

De Voe was removed as superintendent in 1876 but reappointed in 1881. He finally retired from City service in 1883, but he continued to lecture on New York history and published a book on the genealogy of the Devaux family. When he died in 1892 the New York Times called him “one of the best known of the old New-Yorkers.”[10]

After De Voe’s retirement, the enormous open-air Gansevoort Market was officially sanctioned in 1884, and in 1889 the City built a new West Washington Market building to replace older buildings used for meat, poultry and dairy. By 1900 the area housed over 250 slaughterhouses and packing plants, earning the name the Meat Packing District.

Photograph showing a portion of the present Gansevoort and West Washington Market, ca. 1912. Brief and Plans for a New West Washington and Gansevoort Market. NYC Municipal Library. In the mid-1800s, meat and produce increasingly came into the city through freight trains and ships. In 1854 a freight depot had opened at Gansevoort and West Streets, and many vendors from the old Washington Market set up stalls near the depot.

In Brooklyn, an informal farmers market that gathered near the Navy Yard consisted of some rough sheds by 1884. The City of Brooklyn decided to grace this market with grand market halls and a prominent clock tower designed in the Dutch Colonial Revival style by William Tubby, who had just completed several buildings for the Pratt Institute. Wallabout Market, looking like a fairy-tale village, was completed in 1896, one of the last hurrahs of the independent City of Brooklyn before the consolidation of 1898. That consolidation and the increasing needs of a growing city would change the ways the City dealt with markets. However, it would be well into the 20th Century for the City to finally implement many of the market reforms that De Voe had called for.

Wallabout Market, 1896. Retrieved from the Library of Congress.

Part III coming soon.


  • [1] De Voe, Thomas F. The Market Book, 1862.

  • [2] Ibid, pp. 344-345.

  • [3] Ibid, p. 342

  • [4] Ibid, p. 344-345.

  • [5] Lhamon, W.T., Raising Cain: Blackface Performance from Jim Crow to Hip Hop, 2002.

  • [6] De Voe, Thomas F., Report upon the present condition of the public markets of the city and county of New York, 1873.

  • [7] Ibid, pp. 4-5

  • [8] Ibid, p. 15.

  • [9] Day, Jared N., Butchers, Tanners, and Tallow Chandlers: The Geography of Slaughtering in Early Nineteenth-Century New York City.

  • [10] New York Times Obituary, Thomas F. De Voe, February 2, 1892.

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.

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.   

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

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.

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.”   

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.”

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.”  

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.

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.” 

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 Food Problem: 1918

In government, what is done when a problem is identified? A Committee is formed. This is not a new thought. One of the items recently unearthed in the Municipal Library is a pamphlet entitled “Report of The Food Problem Committee.” This sparked immediate questions: what was the food problem to be resolved? Who was on the Committee? What solutions were offered? How did it work out?

Dispatches from the Urban Heartland, Part 1: Welcome

A bit of an introduction. I was born in 1964 and live in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. I walk the same streets my family did when they lived here decades ago. Having moved here in 1997, I’ve now been walking in the footsteps of my elders for twenty years...