Water for NYC
Croton Aqueduct
Kellen and his younger brother Eamon had finished packing their belongings - mostly made up of clothing. They were parting ways from their uncle’s home, as he could no longer provide for the two young men. Money was tight, jobs were nearly non-existent. Uncle Sean’s body was broken down from years of working in the shipyards of Dublin on the Irish Sea. He was eligible to claim a promised room at the Mason’s Lodge for the Infirm, fifty miles south in County Kildare. Fortunately, he had been a member of the fraternal order for fifty-six years. Sean's wife Aingeal was taken young from consumption. He never remarried. Tuberculosis took six of his friends and family over the years. The nephews had been taken in by Uncle Sean seven years ago when their parents Peadar and Fiona were killed in an industrial factory explosion. Dangerous work was offered to the Irish who left for better lives in America - grueling, low paying jobs that nobody wanted. In 1836, the word spread quickly in Ireland, where most lived hand to mouth, working on jobs that hardly provided sustenance for their families. A great aqueduct, the Croton Aqueduct would run from a dammed Croton River - forty-one miles, mostly underground, to a reservoir in Manhattan. The start of construction in 1837 could offer multiple years of employment - a new beginning, a new life, in a new land. The brothers were young, Kellen 22, Eamon 20. The ace up their sleeves were skills from their days working in Dalkey Quarry, south of Dublin. As boys, they learned how to split granite using the fire and cold-water method. They dodged wire and rope, that often snapped, flying uncontrolled every which way. If a wire caught you, it would rip through your body like butter.
When they reached their middle teens, both worked as apprentice masons. They were lean, with nearly any body fat on their muscular frames. Both were taught well, shaping and forming granite and limestone to technical specification drawings. When their apprenticeship was completed, they applied their skills, working as bona fide masons. Jobs would last a few days, some longer - these would involve repairing work on existing structures. Dublin at the time had no grand cathedrals under construction. On a cathedral building, or large government building, work could go on for multiple years. At this time of their lives, there were no grandiose structures underway on the emerald isle.
Uncle Sean was overjoyed, knowing that his two nephews that he treated as his own boys were now ready to depart from Dublin port. The 152-foot-long schooner Wicklow was the ship that Kellen and Eamon boarded for their six-week sail to New York City. Both wondered if they would ever return to their homeland, the only country that they ever knew - their parents grave site, and their only living relative, Uncle Sean. Uncle's last words to the boys were, “be proud and find happiness.”
The Wicklow was fast, quarters were tight, and fresh air and food were scarce. Their crossing was well before the famine, where anyone that could afford a one-way fare to America had a bit more than half a chance of making it alive aboard the coffin ships. These vessels provided far less food, hideous crowded conditions, far worse than the young brothers had endured.
Their crossing of the Atlantic required no work, they had paid full fare. Their time was spent reading and studying their craft. They knew that they would more than likely start as ditch diggers, that is, if they were hired on to work on America's finest aqueduct. The world knew of the Erie Canal, which commenced in 1817, and opened for business in 1825. The majority of laborers were Irishmen who hand dug the four-foot deep, forty foot wide, 351-mile-long ditch. The canal, dubbed, “Clinton’s Folly”, after proponent Dewitt Clinton, the then governor of New York State, was a major success. Goods from New York City would sail up the Hudson, enter the canal near Albany, and barge their way to Buffalo. New York became the Empire State. Goods and services would now have no obstacles to the Great Lakes and the west. The seven-million-dollar investment was repaid in nine years.
New York City! The brothers had a plan when they disembarked the schooner. First, they asked a passerby, who directed them to Saint Peter's Church. Being of the Catholic faith, on entrance, they dipped their fingers into the font of holy water, made the sign of the cross on their body, then found a pew, and knelt in prayer. Upon leaving they asked Father Brian for a blessing.
They found a restaurant, one which welcomed Irishmen. Landing in the oyster capital of the world, their first meal in the city was a dozen raw, followed by an entree of baked oysters, soda bread, and a few celebratory beers. Their next move was to find a place where they could afford a room. After searching for two days, sleeping in an alley their first night, they found a boarding house on Varick Street. They were given advice before they left Ireland; told the tales of the gangs who lurked by the wharfs that took advantage of the greenhorns coming off the ships. It would take more than two or three hoodlums to take down Kellen and Eamon. They were prepared. Each had a knife strapped to their calf, and a folded blade in their pocket. They did not seek trouble, only defense to survive if harm came their way.
The room they found, albeit dank and dreary, would do. Furnished with a bed, table with three chairs, with a washroom down the hall. Their room also came equipped with a filthy chamber pot, which could double as a defense item if their door was breached during the night.
On their third day they headed to the newly built employment building dedicated to hiring the workforce needed to build a dam, aqueduct, and the High Bridge; which would span the Harlem River. Lastly, a receiving reservoir, distribution water tower, and an enormous, walled reservoir at 42nd street. This massive undertaking needed a minimum of three thousand workers. They passed the first interview at the employment office, then directed to a building behind City Hall where screening was conducted. Both brothers were elated when they were hired on. Not diggers as they thought, but tradesmen in their craft. They were assigned to a crew to cut and set stone for the dam, which was already underway. Their boarding house stay was one night. At dawn they boarded a steamship with other craftsmen and laborers, cruising two hours up the Hudson to their job site.
The masons followed the path of the laborers, who with pick and shovel, dug out the dirt, rock, trees, and stumps with the help of mules. The Irishmen were accustomed to prejudices from those of English ancestry who owned properties along the length of the aqueduct. Celebrated author Washington Irving wrote to the editor of the Knickerbocker Magazine that the Irish were spooked by the goblins that haunted the region of the Old Dutch Church where whiskey mills sprung up. Irving added that the workforce could not possibly continue without their nightly drink, thus jeopardizing the project. His essay submission reflected his prejudices towards the Irish Catholic workers. Pitifully obvious, as the Croton aqueduct ran parallel to the Hudson River, and the entire length of his estate, “Sunnyside.” In a few years, he was disturbed much more by the shoreline railroad that noisily steamed up the Hudson Valley, below his home.
Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown landowners complained about the nightly drunken, rabble-rousing, and fighting amongst the Irish construction workers. Xenophobia was commonplace along the 41-mile gravity-fed marvel, which descended 13 inches per mile. Bordering the edge of the aqueduct were land and homes predominantly owned by settled English Protestants. Speculators took advantage, buying up land and having the properties assessed at inflated prices during the financial crisis of 1837. NYC spent considerable sums to buy land. Insults were regularly rained down on the Irish who set up their shanties along the line. By rule, alcohol was forbidden, but the construction companies, who won bids on sections of the aqueduct were realists and knew that they could not stop the men from drinking after a hard day’s work.
Eamon and Kellen were light drinkers, who focused on their work - knowing that this great build will someday be completed, and they saw themselves as future contractors - a challenging undertaking for Catholic men. Pay was 1 dollar per day - approximately 35 dollars per day in 2024 money. A few periods of economic downfall forced the contractors to cut pay to 85 cents, and at a lowest point of 75 cents per day.
Kellen and Eamon laid countless thousands of bricks that encased the 8.5 foot tall, by 7.5 foot wide iron tube which carried fresh water to the city. Eamon detested the monotony of laying brick and was delighted when directed to be on a team that constructed pressure reducing ventilators that were needed every mile along the line. They were constructed of granite, which he preferred. The granite blocks needed skilled shaping due to the cylindrical form of the ventilator. It was a welcome change to be above ground. Kellen, when directed, would work on the ventilators as well.
Both men needed to find release from their daily grind. Finding female companionship was a difficult task. They wondered if it would be possible to have a relationship with a woman while working on the build. They hoped to find reputable women through the church. Physical buildings that held Catholic Mass did not exist at the time. They did have traveling priests, who entered the work camps, and conducted Mass. Father Joseph was the most prominent of the travelling priests. He took a liking to the brothers, and in short time introduced two Catholic women to Kellen and Eamon.
Siobhan and Alaia were close friends from County Mayo and had been employed outside of Ossining. Siobhan was a nanny to the two children of Patrick and Mary Ryan. Mr. Ryan was a prominent lawyer who worked in government at the state capital in Albany. He boarded a steamship heading north on the Hudson on Mondays, returning on Thursday afternoon. Alaia prepared meals for the family, as well as all of the housekeeping. They emigrated to America three years before the brothers. Mr. Ryan had an aversion for the common practice of indentured servants and made a concerted effort to find two women to help his wife when he was at work. This was not the norm; Mr. Ryan was certainly an independent thinker. The Ryan family were Episcopalians, having no tolerance of prejudices toward Catholics, or any other faith.
Mr. Ryan was riding his horse on the Albany Post Road, as Father Joseph was on his way to the work camps. They chatted for a spell and went their separate ways. Two men with the slightest of different beliefs, became fast friends. Before riding south for the camps, Father Joseph accepted an invitation for dinner at Mr. Ryan's estate, playfully named, “Clemency Court.” Here he met the two women. Father Joseph became a regular guest at the Ryan's. After dinner, the men would retreat to Mr. Ryan's study, and talk about theology, world issues, and the marvel that was being constructed down the road.
Father Joseph asked Mr. Ryan if he would allow him to hear confession of the two women, that is, if they wanted to, and offer Holy Communion to Siobhan and Alaia. He responded, “surely dear friend, we are all Christians, only separated by church dogma, and your earthly boss, who lives in the Vatican.” Let us close out the night with a bit more brandy. Now, please tell me about the brothers that you are so fond of. As Father Joseph spoke of their acts of kindness, and love that the two brothers had for Jesus, their fellow man, and each other, Mr. Ryan stood up, and exclaimed, “we will invite them over, their Sundays are open, correct?” Yes, Father Joseph replied, I will attach my buggy, and gather them after mass. See you next Sunday, my friend.
The women were told that evening and were excited to meet the brothers; they too longed for companionship. On the Saturday evening, the day before their Sunday dinner at 3:00 p.m., the brothers snuck down from their shanty, with a bar of soap and towel given by Father Joseph; they bathed in the lower pond of the Sunnyside estate. Sunday at 2:00 p.m., they joined Father Joseph, who had spent the money that the brothers gave him to buy proper clothing. The fit was a bit off, but they looked presentable and were clean. They were proud, confident, with a tad bit of frazzled nerves - being in the company of women, in a grand home was foreign to them. They and Father Joseph were welcomed by Mr. Ryan at the bottom step of his circular driveway. Father introduced all, and Mr. Ryan insisted that they address him as Patrick. Relief was in the air, as the three guests followed Patrick to the door, which was framed by iron lamps, with intricate stained glass side lights, butting up to the walnut door of the brick and stone Dutch Colonial House.
Once inside, Patrick showed the men into the living room, and asked for them to choose a chair, and to make themselves at home. Alaia and Siobhan were escorted by Patrick into the living room; at first sight, the three men stood up, ramrod straight and were introduced, first to Mrs. Ryan, who disliked formality more than her husband. She insisted on being addressed as Maureen and greeted Father Joseph with a familiar hug. She continued down the line meeting Eamon, then Kellen. Patrick, who by now, was a surrogate father to Siobhan, and Alaia introduced them to the men. Rosie cheeks gleamed from both the brothers and women.
They spoke for an hour, then the women excused themselves, retreating to the kitchen to ready the meal that they had both toiled over since mid-morning. They would be dining on salad, roasted chicken, turnips, and mashed potatoes; all grown on the farm behind the home. A Swedish couple lived in a cottage behind the barn. Their responsibilities consisted of growing crops and raising chickens and pigs. All butchering was done by the couple on the estate grounds.
The two sets of young women and young men were seated across from each other. Conversation flowed easily, much to the surprise and delight of Father Joseph, who was fearful that young Eamon would become tongue tied. As their conversation progressed, their brogues intensified, prompting Father Joseph to give an ankle kick to Eamon. Boys, you have the rest of us at the table thinking that you were from the other side of the globe. They tampered down their brogues after Father Joseph's gentle edict.
That night, the Swedish couple insisted on serving dinner. It was lovely that they filled in for Siobhan and Alaia. The guests stayed for four hours, which seemed like two. Kellen fancied Siobhan, as Alaia liked Eamon. Pleasantries were exchanged upon exit as the brothers whispered to Mr. Ryan if he would allow correspondence via letters to be delivered by Father Joseph. As the buggy was brought to the front drive, the three climbed in, hearing Patrick's baritone voice inviting them for a return visit in two weeks.
Both brothers crafted their sets of thank you notes to Mr. and Mrs. Ryan and to Siobhan and Alaia. They had manners taught to them by their beloved mother. It was an exciting time for both the women and men. Father Joseph became a mailman of sorts, delivering notes between them. The brothers had a renewed spring in their step, and the young ladies began to sing songs from home as they counted their days away till their next Sunday dinner.
The twice monthly dinners that everyone enjoyed were becoming difficult, as the aqueduct was rapidly moving further from the Ryan’s estate. It was hardly noticeable for the first six months but became increasingly more difficult to find the means of getting a note to their, now girlfriends. They would soon lose the convenience of Father Josephs’ generosity. The archdiocese in Albany kept the priests in a rotation every three years. Father had been in the Ossining area for two years, prior to meeting the brothers. On a brisk winter morning, Mr. Ryan approached a buggy on the Albany Post, driven by a man that he did not know. Patrick asked the priest who was bundled, with the reins held tightly, “hello dear Sir, are you substituting for Father Joseph?” No, I have taken over his obligations in this region. I am headed to my first visit at the workers camp, seven miles down the line. “Did you not hear?” Hear what, Sir? “Father Joseph passed away three days ago, he is with God.” The brothers, the brothers, that’s all that Patrick could say as he raced toward the camp. As he rode, all he could think of was how to break this sad news to them. His tears froze on his cheeks as quickly as they were shed.
Upon arrival at the camp, Patrick dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, collected himself as he headed toward the brothers; they sensed something was wrong and raced toward Patrick. “Brothers, I come with sad news, Father Joseph has died.” They all embraced, clutching each other tightly, weeping. Kellen asked Patrick, what do we do? Will there be a service, a funeral mass? Patrick assured them that all the details would be forthcoming when the new priest arrives.
In 20 minutes, Father Luke arrived at the camp. They went into the brothers shanty and were told that Father Joseph passed away in his sleep, and he was taken down to Saint Peter’s Church downtown. His funeral mass, followed by his burial in the church graveyard was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. Patrick tightened his scarf, “stand here men, I will return momentarily.” He scrambled down the line, finding the foreman. He introduced himself and told him that the brothers would not be at work for three days, beginning at once. At first, the foreman brushed off Patrick, until they were joined by the site contractor, who knew of Patrick. “Yes, Mr. Ryan, whatever you ask sir.” As Patrick left, he assured the contractor that the brothers would be ready, and back working Thursday morning. Patrick returned to the shanty, instructing the brothers to wait for his return. I have a friend a mile down the road where I can borrow two horses to get us back to my house.
They arrived at Clemency Court with the sad news. Patrick and Maureen informed the entire estate staff, and they sprang into action for preparation of their travel to the city. Two enclosed carriages were prepared by the Swedish couple and brought to the front drive. Within the hour, Patrick was at the reins with his family, and Kellen drove the trailing carriage with Siobhan at his side, Alaia bundled up in the rear with Eamon. The carriages were comfortable, with glass to keep out the howling wind. They were happy to be in each other’s company, even under sad circumstances. They arrived at Saint Peter’s in five hours, it would have been quicker by ship, but the Hudson was frozen over. After Father Joseph’s funeral mass, the brothers, Patrick, and three members of the church carried his simple wood casket to his burial site. Prayers were offered, then the brothers, and Patrick lowered Father Joseph into the ground. Each scooped a shovelful of dirt, which partially covered his coffin. As the women left for the warmth of the church, the men stayed and filled his grave with cold dirt and two pieces of granite from the aqueduct.
Patrick secured lodging for the night at a colleague’s home on Christopher Street. The women and children retreated to their rooms. Patrick called the brothers to the downstairs study, there was important business that he wanted to discuss. “Men, please, take a seat. It’s been a difficult few days, you have endured a great loss; that being said, I’d like to help both of you with your future.” Soon, the aqueduct will be close to Yonkers, far enough away that both of you will find traveling up to Ossining to visit your girlfriends challenging. You will most likely tire from the ride, and as much as you find the travel a bit difficult now, it will become too much, and I'm afraid that your love may wane. I have a proposal; my good friend D.L. Franklin has an estate on North Broadway in Yonkers. The home is 8 miles from the terminus of the aqueduct where the site of the High Bridge will be built across the Harlem River from the Bronx to upper Manhattan. I had a meeting with Mr. Franklin two weeks ago, he agreed to make a swap of staff between my home and his. I will loan you each a horse. You can travel to and from the line during the week days, and spend a considerable amount of time with your ladies on Sundays. I have already mentioned this plan to Siobhan and Alaia. They thought it was a grand idea and hoped that both of you would feel the same. “Patrick, this is more than generous of you, how can we ever reciprocate your kindness?” Men, I have been helped by many people before my career as a lawyer. The Lord instructs us to love our fellow man, it’s as simple as that.
The transition of swapping workplaces was seamless, with the exception of both women missing Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, and their children. The brothers found decent housing close to their girlfriends in an outbuilding on a manor in Hastings on Hudson. From this central location, they were delighted to be able to spend more time with their girlfriends and get to work on time.
The brothers arrived at Mr. D.L. Franklin's estate in Yonkers on a clear, winter Sunday with a borrowed four-seat buggy. They all piled in and began descending North Broadway toward the train station that hugged the river. At this flat section of hilly Yonkers, all four began to walk out onto the frozen Hudson River. Siobhan and Alaia were thrilled; they had never had this experience. A quarter way out onto the frozen ice, facing the towering cliffs of the Palisades, both Kellen and Eamon went down on bended knee, and proposed. Shrieks of joy echoed off of the Palisades, across to the hills of Yonkers filling the Hudson Valley. Both accepted and frolicked on the ice; dancing and singing traditional Irish songs. Their courtships had finally moved toward the union of marriage.
It was 1840, with two more years of work until fresh water flowed from the aqueduct to the middle, and southern parts of Manhattan. The 138 foot tall High Bridge, originally named the Aqueduct Bridge, spanned the Harlem River with a length of 1450 feet, from 170th street in the Bronx, to 172nd street in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan. The High Bridge would resemble the sequential arches of the Roman aqueducts. Its completion was in 1848, with a distribution water tower, and reservoir that served the hilly, northern parts of Manhattan. The brothers had worked on the Croton aqueduct for six years.
Both couples wondered where they could be wed. The first Roman Catholic Church in Westchester County, New York was not constructed until 1910 in Tuckahoe, a small village that held veins of marble, which drew skilled craftsman from Italy. They came to a consensus, Saint Peter’s Church, where the brothers made their first visit off the schooner from Ireland. It would also be an honor to Father Joseph, who introduced the brothers to Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, who facilitated the pathway to their fiancé’s. Mr. Ryan did not want to step on toes with the couples and their plans; he asked them, as a wedding gift, to please allow him to make arrangements and cover the costs of the reception. Fraunces Tavern was his suggestion, and the couples were very pleased.
They did not want to waste precious time and set the date for April 7th. Winter would be over, daffodils and crocuses would be in bloom, and it also gave everyone time to prepare. The women insisted on making their own wedding dresses. Mrs. Ryan wanted to purchase them, but the women dreamed of the day that they could sew their own. The brothers have been saving, and had tailor fitted suits made. Both asked Mr. Ryan to be their best man; he happily agreed, first standing for Kellen, then for Eamon. Mrs. Ryan was maid of honor for both women.
The reception was beautiful; Mrs. Ryan brought in her personal decorator who transformed the room into an Irish themed event. Foods from their native land, a trio played Irish folk music, as everyone danced. Kellen, read a letter aloud from Uncle Sean. Bliss filled the room, their futures looked bright. The couples stayed three nights in New York City, courtesy of the Ryan family.
Kellen and Eamon moved closer to their wives in Yonkers, who continued the same workload at D.L. Franklin’s home. When work on the High Bridge was completed, the men were worn out from the difficulties of masonry. Hands ached, their bodies had sustained multiple injuries and the constant exposure to the elements took its toll. Their dream of becoming contractors was still alive. Breaking into this new venture would be rough; being Irish in a city where having English descent kept you at and economical advantage. Kellen lectured his younger brother, who wanted to be involved with Tammany Hall in their aspirations of starting a contractor business. “Eamon, once they grant you one favor, they will own us.” We made it to America, met a fine man in Father Joseph, and we are blessed with a friendship with Patrick and Maureen. Let’s pay a visit to Patrick, he will give us sound advice.
The brothers knew that they would have to formulate a business plan. Their business experience was nil, with their only knowledge from books. That was not sufficient in a real-world environment. They wrote out a plan, met with Patrick in his study, where he meticulously read the two pages that they submitted. They sat nervously on his couch, observing Patrick writing notes in the margins, and writing on a clean sheet. Patrick peered up from his spectacles with a grin. “My friends, I believe we have the genesis of a masonry business here.” I am very impressed with your knowledge of the future growth, and needs in New York City. You have competent men that you know and trust from the building of the aqueduct. You need an element here that you have overlooked – investors. You are looking at one. I have two businessmen that I have invested with in other ventures; I will consolidate my notes with your business plan, then the five of us will meet.
In two weeks, on a Sunday afternoon the five men gathered at Patrick’s estate. Mr. Kelly and Mr. Grogan were introduced by Patrick who led everyone into his study. Patrick began the meeting with the backgrounds of Mr. Grogan and Mr. Kelly. The brothers were impressed. They both had their portfolio in diversified investments, with the exception of construction. The trio of businessmen were impressed with the brothers work experience, and their knowledge, little as it was, of business. Their funding was secured. Patrick stood up, shook hands with Kellen, and Eamon. “Welcome to the business world my dear friends – this calls for a toast.” Now, have you given any thought to a name for your business? The brothers replied, yes. Our company will be called, “Brothers Masonry.” They all raised their glasses once more, “much success to Brothers Masonry.” They raced home to see their wives and informed them that they were no longer under the employment of Mr. D.L. Franklin.
Patrick showed them the ropes on how to bid on municipal projects, as they also bid on private builds. Kellen had the title of President, Eamon as Estimator, Siobhan took the role of Treasurer, with Alaia was in the position of Purchasing. The couples settled in a federalist style row house on MacDougal Street in Manhattan. In their early beginnings, they were subcontractors to larger outfits; gaining a reputation for quality work. They had a crew of masons that they knew from the aqueduct build, who were skilled craftsmen. Brothers Masonry grew and they were bidding on multiple jobs in their second year. Their three investors were now receiving quarterly payments with interest.
On a Sunday dinner at the newlyweds, Patrick stood and made a toast to Kellen and Eamon, thanking them for the water in his glass.
Loved the story of the Irish brothers making a new life in America. I got a kick out of your paying homage to Doug Franklin, the Kelly’s and Grogan’s.
Great pictures too!