Almshouse Stories: Destruction of the Almshouse Cemetery

[An undated newspaper clipping forwarded to me by Philip Hayes, a very knowledgeable follower of our historical society's Facebook page]

SAW MILL RIVER PARKWAY TRAFFIC ROLLS ON GRAVES OF PAUPER DEAD

Only one headstone remains standing at County's Old Burial Ground at East View, ploughed under for highway improvement.

BY CYNTHIA LOWRY

EAST VIEW, Nov. 14. The purring wheels of modern automobiles traveling the Saw Mill River Parkway here pass over the graves of dozens of paupers. One headstone remains standing, ghost-white against the brown hillside, a silent marker of a Westchester Potter's Field which made way for the needs of the day.

The small cemetery was the burial place for inmates of the County Home who were without family or had no other place in which to be interred. It was a small plot of land at the East View Station. The potter's Field was in use for over 100 years, but was not used after the county acquired a new cemetery near Grasslands Hospital. The last burial was made there around 1920.

The burial ground was flat, so when the land was taken to build the parkway, the graves were covered with about 20 feet of dirt, and the Saw Mill River Parkway runs along on a ridge high above the graves. None of the graves were disturbed in the construction last year.

Francesco Servello, a one-time inmate of the County Home, was one of many buried there. His is the only grave which was not disturbed, and, with its simple fieldstone cross, stands like a neglected sentinel beside the parkway.

But Francesco Servello has not been forgotten, for once a year someone -- no one at the County Home knows who it is -- comes to the grave and puts flowers on it. Now, the spot is bleak and uncared for, with dead palm branches lying across it, and a stick from which once floated a small flag.

To get to the grave, one must either climb the wooden rail along the Parkway, or climb a barbed wire fence by the railroad tracks, and walk along the sharp brambles to the lonely marker.

According to Peter Makulov, an employee of the County home since 1915, the graves were all marked with either fieldstone or wooden crosses.

Almshouse Stories: Ann Eliza Young

The Westchester County Almshouse circa 1900 (Harvard University Library)

For those of you who have been following the long saga that is my journey to the PhD, you might be interested to know that I submitted my Master's thesis on Tuesday. The title is "'A Corpse instead of a Pauper': Graveyards as Sites of Ideological Production in 19th-Century Westchester County, New York." This is the newspaper article from which that title was taken, published in The Mount Kisco Recorder in 1886:

A CORPSE INSTEAD OF A PAUPER
Mrs. Ann Eliza Young, an aged widow, once quite well to do, and residing all her life at Tuckahoe, was taken to the County Almshouse, last Thursday morning, and died of fright and a broken heart in the carriage which landed her at the door. The old lady wept all the way to the almshouse, and prayed that death might overtake her before she became a pauper. When the carriage stopped at the door she looked out of her carriage window, gave a shriek, threw up her hands and fell dead. Mrs. Young’s husband was once a prosperous stonecutter, and they lived in comfort, but about 20 years ago he was drowned, and since that time the widow has maintained herself on what remained of his property. This being all gone and she being childless, she became a county charge. She was buried at the almshouse. 

And here is some of what I wrote about it:

While the story of Ann Eliza Young featured in the Recorder in 1886 may have been colored by some degree of journalistic flourish, the almshouse records attest to its essential truth: that a woman who had "lived in comfort" could easily fall into a state of destitution in her old age ...

Ezra Yerks, a 69-year-old shoemaker and resident of Mount Pleasant, expressed a sentiment similar to that of Ann Eliza Young when he was admitted to the almshouse in 1867, suffering from paralysis: according to his admission record, "[h]e asserted on his arrival here that he would rather die than be obliged to become an inmate of a Poorhouse" (Record No. 159) ...

Despite what the title of the article implied, death had not spared Young the fate she had feared: she was, in death, treated as a pauper. A burial at the almshouse spoke to the same anxieties that surrounded the confinement of a living person: those of anonymity, disgrace, and exclusion from society. Buried in a sterile institutional setting, among strangers, in a grave that, if marked, was given only a minimal slab with a number, the pauper dead were denied the normative 19th-century program of rituals and trappings that served to beautify death and dignify the deceased. The starkness of the paupers’ graves, without an epitaph or icon to mitigate the terror of mortality, recalled the grim Calvinist attitudes of the early colonial era which had long since given way to romanticism.

Furthermore, paupers were not even guaranteed what had come to be considered every person’s fundamental right: that of an eternal resting place. In the 1920s, the Westchester County Almshouse graveyard was destroyed to build the Saw Mill River Parkway. A similar fate befell many other institutional burying grounds in the 20th century.

Almshouse Stories: Nicola Lofrano

After reading this story from 1892, I couldn't help but investigate:

Visitors to the Westchester County Almshouse have probably had pointed out to them an Italian named Nichol Lapano [sic], who is eyeless and armless. While employed by the Mount Vernon Water Company, several years ago, in Yonkers, nitro-glycerine exploded, maiming the unfortunate man for life. His life was despaired of for several months, but his great vitality brought him through. He was subsequently sent to the County Almshouse at East View. His counsel sued the company for damages, and obtained a judgment of $7500 in the courts. An appeal was taken to the Court of Appeals, and last week that body affirmed the judgment. Westchester News 25 December 1891 

Nicholas Lapano, an Italian, while in the employ of the Mount Vernon Water Company attempted to thaw out some dynamite cartridges, when they exploded and he lost both eyes and both hands. He sued the company in the circuit court and got a verdict for $7,500. The company took the case to the court of appeals, which has just affirmed the decision of the court below. Lapano is now an inmate of the Westchester County Almshouse. The Eastern State Journal 26 December 1891

However, my searches for Nichol(as) Lapano turned up nothing. I searched every variation of the name I could find. Finally I decided to search for "Mount Vernon Water Company" and "dynamite" and came up with this - the details of a lawsuit brought by Nicola Lofrano against the New York and Mount Vernon Water Company.

The complaint alleged that the plaintiff was employed by the defendant as a day laborer to dig out a reservoir, and aid in the construction of a dam at or near Pelhamville, in the county of Westchester; that the defendant negligently provided and used frozen dynamite cartridges and unsafe and improper means for softening the same; that the plaintiff was ordered and directed by the defendant to place said frozen dynamite cartridges before the fire in the open air, and warm one side first and then to turn them around and warm the other side, and that in doing so without any negligence or carelessness on his part, the cartridges exploded, to the serious injury of the plaintiff.

Unfortunately, that's all I've been able to find on him via the internet.

Probates: Thomas H. Brundage

I've now reached the point in my Master's research where I am going back over all of the probate records I copied this summer and looking for interesting things to latch onto. Yesterday this stood out to me (words underlined):

Will of Thomas H. Brundage
The last will and testament of Thomas H. Brundage of the Town of Bedford County of Westchester and State of New York. 

I, Thomas Brundage of Bedford aforesaid, do make, publish, and declare this my last will and testament in manner following, that is to say - 

First: I direct my executors herein after named to pay all my just debts and funeral expenses. 

Second: I hereby authorize and by these presents give to my said executors full power and authority to sell and convey all my real and personal property. 

Third: I give and bequeath to my son Nathan Brundage the 1/3 of all the proceeds of my estate and to my sons John Brundage and Walter T. Brundage the 1/3 to be equally divided between them share and share alike. 

Fourthly: I give and devise all the rest and residue of my estate to M. W. Fish, one of my executors herein after named, in trust for my daughter Rachel Ann Brazill, wife of Richard, the interest and income to be paid my said daughter during her natural life, and I further hereby authorize my said executor, in case of my said daughter being in destitute condition and needing more than the interest to make her comfortable, to allow her such portion as he may in his judgment think she requires. And I further provide in case of the decease of my said daughter not leaving any lawful issue then I give and bequeath all that remains of such portion or share to my sons then living share and share alike. 

Fifthly: I hereby nominate and appoint my friend Moses W. Fish and Burnett Miller of Bedford executors of this my last will and testament hereby revoking any former will by me made. 

In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal this 5th day of December 1874.
Thomas H. Brundage [his mark]

My thoughts:

It's not surprising that Thomas Brundage set aside 1/3 of his estate for each of his sons with no strings attached, while appointing a trustee to look over his daughter's inheritance; such patronizing conditions were commonplace for female heirs. The fact that such conditions - and the inheritance itself - was intended to provide for the female heir's livelihood and prevent her from falling into destitution is likely implied in every case I have seen; that is to say, fathers who were making wills were anticipating that their daughters might need financial assistance in the future, and set up their affairs to ensure that they were taken care of.

However, I have never seen a father's concern for his daughter falling into destitution so explicitly stated. It's even more shocking considering that Thomas Brundage's daughter was married. Was this simply a "just-in-case" scenario, or did he have reason to believe that his son-in-law would be unable to provide for her?

Even in her hypothetically destitute state, Rachel Ann Brazill is made to rely on the "judgment" of a man - admittedly, a very judicious man (Moses W. Fish was justice of the peace for the county for many years and was very well-respected), but the belittling of Rachel, who was 31 at the time her father's will was written, stands out to modern eyes.

Of course, the patronizing attitude towards women is easy to explain as an artifact of cultural attitudes of the time; it likely has little or nothing to do with Thomas's personal views of his daughter or her financial acumen. Rather, it is the special concern that Thomas gives to Rachel's potential destitution, and his explicit mention of it, that stands out to me.

Gravestone of Susan Brundage (source)

To investigate, I looked up the Brundage family in the 1850 federal census. That year, Susan and Thomas had four children under the age of 13, and Thomas was working as a laborer, which implies that he did not have the same level of job security as a landed farmer or a skilled artisan. The value of his real estate was only $170. Thomas's neighbors, including several farmers and shoemakers, owned real estate valued at $200-$6,000. Relative to their neighbors, the Brundages may have felt disadvantaged, and possibly struggled to make ends meet.

(It's also notable that Thomas Brundage's will is not signed with his name, but with a mark, suggesting that he was illiterate. While illiteracy was much more common in the 19th-century United States than it is now, most of the people in the St. George's/St. Mark's community were literate. I suppose it is possible that Thomas Brundage was too weak at the time he wrote his will to sign his name - but many of the wills I have read mention being "very weake [sic] in body" and yet are still signed by name, in crabbed but still legible handwriting. I don't think I've come across another will belonging to a member of this community that was signed with a mark.)

In the next census (1860), Thomas was again listed as a farm laborer, this time with real estate worth $350 and personal estate worth $100. All four children were still at home, with 21-year-old John working as a shoemaker.

Susan Brundage died in 1868 at the age of 61. It stood out to me that she was more than 10 years older than her husband, and that her oldest child was born when she was in her thirties. Both would have been unusual at the time. Assuming that Thomas was Susan's first husband (which is a big assumption), they may have been married when he was around 20 and she was around 30, which would explain why she didn't have children earlier. Perhaps Susan was the last of her sisters to marry and as a result didn't receive as substantial a dowry as they did; even if this was not the case, her dependence on her natal family past the age when most women would have married could have placed a financial burden on them.

Of course, this is all speculation, but I'm trying to imagine what situations and personal experiences might have inspired a father to be more cautious about his daughter's financial welfare than usual. The family's history of financial instability could be a potential answer.

By 1870, the census closest to the date of Thomas's death, John Brundage had established his own household with a wife and two-year-old daughter. Fifty-two-year-old Thomas Brundage, now a widower, was living with his father John (74), son Nathan (30), and daughter Rachel Ann (27). Thomas was listed as a "farm hand," with an estate worth $500.

It was not particularly desirable for a man to remain a "farm laborer," "farm hand," or "laborer" throughout his life. The expectation was that the young farm laborer would work long enough to establish his own farm, or - perhaps more likely - inherit a part of his father's farm and become a proper landowner who would then employ young farmhands to do his dirty work. This was the cultural narrative, but of course it didn't always play out in real life. It might have been somewhat disappointing if Thomas ended up working as a laborer on other people's farms into his fifties. The fact that he had to support an aged father and adult children at the same time might have compounded his difficulties.

While it's possible that Nathan Brundage was also employed as a farmhand (although it isn't explicitly stated in the census), Rachel Ann's opportunities to provide for her own financial support would have been limited. Taking on the kind of employment that was open to women - such as millinery or teaching - might have reflected poorly on her father and brother's ability to fulfill their cultural roles as men. Thus it wouldn't be surprising if she was encouraged to marry - implicitly if not explicitly - in order to ease her family's financial burden and fulfill her own culturally prescribed role.

So what happened to Rachel Ann? Of course, we know from the will that she ultimately married, but I had the hardest time tracking her down. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me that in a document with a number of spelling idiosyncrasies - including "exutors," "autherize," "equily," "shair," and "intrest"- that Rachel's married name was spelled incorrectly. "Brazill" was actually "Bradsell."

Richard Bradsell, who was ten years his wife's senior, was born in New York to English parents. In 1880, the couple was living together in North Castle.

1880 Federal Census

Since Richard and Rachel weren't married until after 1870 (according to the 1900 census, they were married in 1874), Hiram Bradsell, a 21-year-old shoemaker, must have been Richard's son from his previous marriage. The other three sons were presumably Richard and Rachel's, her first-born son named for his grandfather Thomas. So Rachel, like her mother, didn't have children until her 30s. Given the trend in my own peer group, I suppose Susan and Rachel were just ahead of the times (though I doubt either was delaying childbearing until she was ABD).

According to the census, Richard was a "painter." The 1900 census is more specific - he was a house painter. In that year, he and Rachel were living with three of their sons - Thomas, Walter, and William - and Thomas's wife Theda. Rachel was said to be the mother of five children, one of whom had died. Thomas was a hotel keeper and farmer, Walter was a farm laborer, and William, who was only 14, was in school.

There are no real conclusions to be drawn here, only speculation. Did Thomas Brundage anticipate that his daughter would be destitute? Perhaps not, but the possibility was on his mind, perhaps because of his own experience struggling to support a family on a farmhand's wage. Perhaps the most important knowledge to take away from this, from my perspective, is the fact that people like Thomas were aware that women - even married women living in a middle-class community - could become destitute, and that the beneficence of their relatives might be all that kept them from the almshouse. Other fathers might have trusted that their sons would take care of their daughters in such a situation, but Thomas Brundage wasn't willing to take that chance.

While I can't comment on the moral character of Rachel's brothers in particular, I have seen records from the almshouse explicitly stating that a female resident was left destitute by relatives who either refused to support her or actually took her money. One widow allegedly had her savings squandered by her son and his wife; another languished in the poorhouse while her well-off children refused to provide for her. Perhaps Thomas Brundage wasn't even considering his son-in-law's ability to provide for his daughter; maybe he was looking ahead to her potential widowhood and the children, then only hypothetical, who might abuse or neglect her.

One part of the package of assumptions that overlies the middle class is that middle-classness is a relatively stable part of one's identity, much like race or gender. Class, then and now, is so much more than one's level of income or amount of property owned; it is a part of one's worldview and way of existing in the world. Yet middle-class people in the 19th century were often much closer to the margins than they would like to believe. Class could not be taken for granted, but had to be continuously cultivated and perpetuated from generation to generation. One couple's hard work to establish and maintain their middle-class status could all be undone if the next generation was too irresponsible or simply too unlucky. Provisions like those in Thomas Brundage's acted as insurance on the middle-class status - the class associated more than any others with simple "comfort," rather than luxury (upper class) or hardship (lower class) - of their successors. Thus, middle-class status was, in some respects, a heritable trait - but one that could be very easily lost.

Family Tree

1. Thomas H. Brundage (1818-1875) m. Susan Brundage (1807-1868)
1. John Brundage (1838-) m. Unknown
1. Susan Brundage (1868-) 
2. Nathan Brundage (1840-)
3. Rachel Ann Brundage (1843-) m. Richard Bradsell (1833-) in 1874
1. Thomas R. Bradsell (1875-) m. Theda
2. Samuel T. Bradsell (1878-)
3. Walter Bradsell (1879-)
4. William Bradsell (1885-)
4. Walter Timothy Brundage (1848-)

Scenes from Bellevue Poor House

Photographs of Bellevue Poorhouse, Blackwell's Island, NY, 1900. Via the Museum of the City of New York (link).

Scenes from the Kings County Almshouse

Photographs of the Kings County Almshouse, Brooklyn, NY, Circa 1900, via the Museum of the City of New York (link).

A Scene from the Randall's Island Poorhouse

Art and Picture Collection, The New York Public Library. (1875). Waiting for the second table : inmates of the Poor-House on Randall's Island, East River, at New York City, forming in line for dinner (link).

A Scene from the Richmond County Almshouse

Richmond County Almshouse, Port Richmond, NY, 1900. Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum, Transfer from the Carpenter Center for the Visual Arts, Social Museum Collection (link).

A Scene from the Chenango County Almshouse

Chenango County Almshouse, Preston, NY, 1900. Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum, Transfer from the Carpenter Center for the Visual Arts, Social Museum Collection (link).

A Scene from the Oneida County Almshouse

The Women's Day Room, Oneida County Almshouse, Rome, NY, 1900. Source: Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum, Transfer from the Carpenter Center for the Visual Arts, Social Museum Collection (link).

A Scene from the Philadelphia Almshouse

"Philadelphia Almshouse: A Busy Corner in the Shoemaker's Room" by Alice Barber Stephens, 1870. Source: Library of Congress.

How did people die in the almshouse?

For a while I've had a very ambitious plan in mind. It began with the Episcopal cemetery. I've always liked cemeteries because they provide a material link to ordinary people from the past -- the kind of people I can imagine being my friends and neighbors. It seemed like a democratizing gesture to study and preserve cemeteries: a means of bringing attention to our historical counterparts, the farmers, bakers, shoemakers, and housewives of the 18th and 19th century whose stories help to personalize the sweeping course of historical movements.

But there are another class of people who are even more neglected than the "ordinary" (read: middle-class) residents of the Episcopal cemetery. They were buried in mass graves in potter's fields and in the cemeteries of institutions. They may have received a grave marker, or they may have not. If they did receive a grave marker, it may have been made of perishable materials, and it may not have recorded their names. Today many of their graves are unmarked, unknown, even obliterated.

Such erasure is an affront to the cult of individualism that forms the ideological core of capitalist society. According to this ideology, we are all individuals. The irony, of course, is that individuality and homogeneity seem to go hand in hand. According to some Marxist archaeologists, individuality is an illusion that masks the reality: we are all interchangeable. In Historical Archaeologies of Capitalism (1999), Mark P. Leone summarizes the theory of E. P. Thompson:

Thompson argues that the individual is a social creation, and that those people who realize their lives within the notion of individualism are not individuals as they conceive themselves to be, but rather are the interchangeable units of a society that makes its profit from selling the labor of persons who come to be seen as duplicates (200).

Material culture is both the reflection of this reality and the substrate from which it is created. Leone cites ceramics as an example. With the 18th century, tablewares were more and more likely to be individualized, that is, accumulated in numbers that were intended to be proportionate to the number of people being served. Everyone got his or her own plate, cup, saucer, and bowl -- a true innovation in a society that had been accustomed to using communal tablewares. Yet the ceramics also increased in homogeneity at the same time they increased in number. A set of tablewares was one in which all of the pieces were the same. Both ceramics and people were being homogenized.

So how does this connect to the almshouse? The almshouse, much like the prison, was an institution centered on the production of individuals. Consider what Foucault writes in Discipline and Punish (1979):

"... individualization is ‘descending’: as power becomes more anonymous and functional, those on whom it is exercised tend to be more strongly individualized … In a system of discipline, the child is more individualized than the adult, the patient more than the healthy man, the madman and the delinquent more than the normal … when one wishes to individualize the healthy, normal and law-abiding adult, it is always by asking him how much of the child he has in him, what secret madness lies within him, what fundamental crime he has dreamt of committing" (193).

Institutions like the almshouse provided the blueprints for imposing discipline on the rest of society, not through external coercion, but by conditioning people, from an early age, to internalize order and social expectations. 

In my thesis, I hope to explore how the Westchester County Almshouse functioned as an instrument of discipline, not only for the people who lived there, but for all of society. But I have a parallel project in mind, which is to identify all of the people who were buried in the almshouse cemetery, and in doing so make some effort to counteract the forces that have (and continue to) erase "undesirable" people from society. The fact that the middle-class cemetery stands, while the almshouse cemetery is buried under a highway, is not a coincidence. It is practically allegorical. It demonstrates how inequalities of the present are perpetuated in historical memory. Marginalized in life, the residents of the almshouse are also marginalized in death.

Unfortunately, this project is easier said than done. There is no simple document that identifies all of the burials in the almshouse cemetery (that I have found, anyway). Instead, I have been combing through the enormous ledger documenting all of the people who were living in the almshouse as of 1875 or later (1875 is the year that New York State passed a law requiring almshouse to keep such records. Before that year, evidence is scanty) and recording the ones who died while they were there. Between 1875 and 1879, 1,490 people were listed as residents of the almshouse; 220 of them died. That's about 15%. I have also been looking for mortality schedules in the federal census that list the residents who died that year. These are very valuable records, but unfortunately they only capture people who died in the almshouse in the year the census was taken (once every ten years). 

Note that not all of the people who stayed at the almshouse would really qualify as "residents." Some of them stayed less than a week before leaving. Some of them stayed only a day before they died. Some of them lived there for decades and died there. It's very difficult to gauge the quality of care that the almshouse inmates (as they were known) received from death rates alone. Many of the residents would have suffered from ill health for months or years before they arrived at the almshouse. Still, it is safe to say that conditions at the almshouse weren't optimal. Judging by the intake records, residents were forced to work as much as their health allowed; they received only two meals a day (prior to 1890); and there was no dedicated hospital before 1900. While many of the people who died at the almshouse were elderly, it wasn't unusual for young adults and children to die unexpectedly. 

In the document above, from the mortality schedules of the federal census, records 28 deaths in the almshouse in the year ending May 31, 1880. It's difficult to read, but I have been able to gather the following data:

Sex

Number of men: 18 (64.3%)

Number of women: 10 (35.7%)

Race

White: 25 (89.2%)

Black: 3 (10.7%)

Marital Status

Single: 13 (46.4%)

Married: 1 (3.6%)

Widowed: 14 (50%)

Age

Infant (0-2 yrs): 1 (3.6%)

Child/adolescent (3-19 yrs): 0 (0%)

Young adult (20-39 yrs): 2 (7.1%)

Middle adult (40-59 yrs): 9 (32.1%)

Old adult (60+ yrs): 16 (57.1%)

Average age*: 62.1

Average age of men: 59.2

Average age of women: 63.5

*The one infant is not counted.

Youngest age: One month

Oldest age: 88

Birthplace

New York: 13 (46.4%)

Ireland: 10 (35.7%)

Germany: 3 (10.7%)

Switzerland: 1 (3.6%)

France: 1 (3.6%)

Profession* 

Laborer: 17 (62.9%)

Servant: 8 (29.6%)

Keeping house: 2 (7.4%)

*The one infant is not counted.

Cause of Death

Consumption: 6 (21.4%)

Heart disease: 4 (16%)

General debility: 3 (10.7%)

Brain disease: 2 (7.1%)

Cramps: 1 (3.6%)

Epilepsy: 1

Apoplexy: 1

Old age: 1

Septicemia: 1

Gangrene: 1

Bronchitis: 1

Pneumonia: 1

Kidney disease: 1

Illegible: 2

So what can we glean from this data?

First of all, it may come as a surprise that the average age of the adults who died is 62.1, 63.5 for women and 59.2 for men. This seems fairly high, considering that in 1880, the average life expectancy at age 20 was 62.2 years for both men and women. However, it would be wrong to conclude from this that the residents of the almshouse were living about as long as the average man or woman. Rather, the data is likely skewed by the fact that residents of the almshouse were more likely to be elderly than the average population. That the women who died in the almshouse were slightly older than their male counterparts isn't surprising; with an older population, women were less likely to be of reproductive age, and therefore less vulnerable to the potentially fatal complications of pregnancy and childbirth.

The ratio of men to women (64.3:35.7) is similar to that of the total population of the almshouse in 1870 (62.8:37.2), suggesting that at least in this year, men and women in the almshouse died at equal rates.

To make any conclusions on the causes of death, I would have to compare these numbers to those for the average population. But I will say that consumption, heart disease, "general debility," brain disease, epilepsy, and kidney disease all have the potential to be drawn-out, wasting illnesses that would incapacitate the victim for a long period of time prior to death. It is therefore not surprising that these "slow" illnesses would account for such a large portion of the deaths in the almshouse, as opposed to, say, highly virulent and deadly diseases like influenza, cholera, or measles. My theory is that victims of "fast" killers would be more likely to die at home, where they would have been incapacitated for only days or weeks prior to their deaths, while victims of "slow" killers would have been brought to the almshouse when their families realized they didn't have the resources to provide the months or years of care they would need.

It's just a theory, however, and one that will need more testing. For now, I am focused on identifying the rest of the people who died in the almshouse, in the hope that I can then determine whether they were buried on the almshouse grounds. Most likely, the majority were, but a few may have been claimed by their families for burial elsewhere. It would be unfair to condemn families for "abandoning" their relatives to the almshouse. Some people undoubtedly were abandoned and neglected, but others simply had the misfortune to come from very poor families (or to have no family at all). Some of the records explicitly mention that a person's family had run out of money supporting him or her. Others say that the person has family willing to support them but is "too proud" to ask for help. And some records contain the name and addresses of family or friends who promised to bury the person upon his or her death. 

Some families, however, may have been too poor to provide their relative with a burial, and thus the person was buried in the almshouse cemetery. I'll discuss more of the details surrounding the fate of the almshouse cemetery in a later post, but for now, I thought I'd mention the efforts at the Oregon State Hospital that have partly inspired all of this work.

The Oregon State Hospital contains the cremated remains of 3,600 people who died there between 1914 and 1971 and were never claimed by relatives. A few years ago, a state senator visiting the hospital was shocked to see the thousands of urns locked away in the dilapidated crematorium. He led a project to rehouse the remains in a public memorial and to reunite as many of the urns as possible with their families. 

This is the kind of outcome I would like for my project, albeit on a more modest scale (the Oregon State Hospital had the advantage of a high level of public interest, partly generated by its association with the movie "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," which was filmed there). 

The Almshouse by Numbers: 1870

Total number of inmates: 358

Sex
Female: 133 (37.2%)
Male: 225 (62.8%)

Race
White: 339 (94.7%)
Black: 18 (5.0%)
Mulatto: 1 (0.3%)

Age
Infant (0-2 yrs): 16 (4.5%)
Child/adolescent (3-19 yrs): 63 (17.6%)
Young adult (20-39 yrs): 117 (32.7%)
Middle adult (40-59 yrs): 103 (28.8%)
Old adult (60+ yrs): 59 (16.5%)

Place of birth
Germany: 13 (3.6%)
Baden: 4 (1.1%)
Germany (state unknown): 4 (1.1%)
Bremen: 2 (0.6%)
Hanover: 2 (0.6%)
Hamburg: 1 (0.3%)

United Kingdom: 181 (50.6%)
Ireland: 148 (41.3%)
England: 21 (5.9%)
Scotland: 12 (3.4%)

United States: 151 (42.2%)
New York: 148 (41.3%)
New Jersey: 2 (0.6%)
Pennsylvania: 1 (0.3%)

Other Europe: 12 (3.4%)
France: 4 (1.1%)
Prussia: 3 (0.8%)
Switzerland: 2 (0.6%)
Belgium: 1 (0.3%)
Holland: 1 (0.3%)
Poland: 1 (0.3%)

Literacy
Cannot read or write: 21 (5.9%)
Cannot write: 21 (5.9%)

Mental state
Insane: 37 (10.3%)
Idiot: 7 (2%)

Source: The United States Federal Census for the Town of Mount Pleasant, 1870

A Few Residents of the Almshouse

Thomas Martin, admitted February 2, 1875, record number 1.  Aged 30, white, single, from County Tipera (Tipperary?), Ireland, in the US for seven years. Cause of dependence: feeble-minded or insane, caused by sunstroke.  Can do laboring work and is quite industrious. "Will probably not recover. His physical ability is good and is able to perform considerable labor. Was committed as a vagrant by Moses W. Fish Esq."

Alexander Hoffminer, admitted February 22, 1875, record number 42. Aged 60, white, single, from Lengo (?), Germany, in the US for 23 years. Cause of dependence: Paralysis. "This man is a professional surgeon and physician and has practiced medicine since 1854. Had his diploma from New York City College and through neglect and carelessness has become partially paralyzed."

Eliza Hall, admitted April 17, 1873, record number 52. Aged 73, white, widowed, from Kirk Harris, County Antrim, Ireland, in the US for 14 years. Cause of dependence: Old age and destitution. "This is a respectable old woman [who] has no near relative that feels any special interest in her. In all probability she will remain a dependent inmate."

 Maria O'Rourke, admitted March 29, 1870, record number 78. Aged 69, white, widowed, from Ballyconnell, County Cavan, Ireland, in the US for 53 years. Cause of dependence: Broken leg. "This woman is intelligent, and had the misfortune to have her leg broken by the New Haven R. Road. She is the mother of 24 children, 12 boys and 12 girls. The husband died in this house."

 Albert Miller, admitted August 25, 1874, record number 76. Aged 57, white, married, from Germany (I can't figure out what the town and county are referring to), in the US for 19 years. Can cut wood and make fires. Cause of dependence: General debility. "This man has had property but through misfortune has lost all. He is really a pitaful [sic] object."

 Ezra Yerks, admitted November 27, 1867, record number 67. Aged 69, white, widowed, from Mount Pleasant, New York. Cause of dependence: Paralysis. "This is a Christianlike man. He had a great dislike to become a pauper. He asserted on his arrival here that he would rather die than be obliged to become an inmate of a Poorhouse but since has changed his mind and says he is contented."

 Phebe Rocco, admitted August 7, 1872, record number 159. Aged 58, white, single, from Eastchester, NY. Cause of dependence: Epilepsy. Can do general housework. "This woman is of respectable family and in consequence of her being subjected to these fits have [sic] been placed here in this house and probably will remain dependent."



William W. Wetherspoon, admitted December 12, 1866, record number 176. Aged 40, white, single, from New York, NY. Cause of dependence: Feeble minded and insane. "This man is insane. It is hereditary with the family. He has a dower of about two hundred dollars per annum which serves [?], boards and clothes him. He is a classical scholar."

The Almshouse in the Manual of Westchester County, 1898

The following is excerpted from The Manual of Westchester County from 1898. I've transcribed the passage below, followed by my comments. Thanks so much to Philip from the Restoring Mount Kisco History page for sending it my way.

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The Westchester County Almshouse, located at East View, in the town of Mount Pleasant, is, beyond dispute, at the present time one of the best-managed institutions of the kind in the State. This shelter for the county's homeless poor, with its connecting buildings, is pleasantly situated in one of the most attractive of valleys, protected by picturesque hills and surrounded by land views ever pleasing to the eye, contributing to make the lives of the unfortunate wards of the county as bearable and happy as possible. To the observance of the first rule of the institution, cleanliness, is due principally, the general good health of the inmates; sick people found here are those who were sick when introduced, as few well persons are taken ill after arrival.

On April 1, 1828, the County Almshouse was established and opened for business on its present site, the locality then being known as Knapp's Corners. Isaac Coutant was duly installed as its first keeper. Prior to 1828 each town maintained an almshouse and cared for its own poor.

During the year ending April 1, 1896, the Almshouse contained 417 inmates, of whom 321 were men, 78 were women and 18 were babes. During the year ending April 1, 1897, there were 403 inmates, of which number 297 were men, 83 were women and 23 were children under two years of age. During the year ending April 1, 1898, there were 447 inmates, of which number 352 were men, 79 were women and 16 were children under two years of age. During the year just ended the hospital accommodated 105 persons, 70 of whom were men and 35 were women, which number is about ten percent increase over previous year. Under present poor laws each town in the county is entitled to one Overseer of the Poor. An Overseer of the Poor is permitted by law to expend not over $10 not oftener than three times a year in assisting and relieving the immediate wants of a destitute family; if further assistance is necessary for some family, the said Overseer of the Poor shall apply to the County Superintendent of the Poor for authority to render further financial aid, and if said Superintendent finds, on investigation, that the family for whom assistance is asked can be removed to the Almshouse, such removal will have to be accomplished; in case removal is impossible, the Superintendent may grant further financial assistance by issuing over his signature a certificate to the County Treasurer, or by endorsing his approval on an order for money made by Overseer of the Poor. The poor orders issued by Overseers of the Poor are paid by the County Treasurer on presentation of the order, together with a bill, verified by oath, showing goods delivered under said order. The number of orders that can be issued in a town or city is not limited.

The present County Superintendent of the Poor, Henry Esser, when he first assumed charge of the Almshouse, in 1890, inaugurated the custom of providing the inmates with three regular meals a day, displacing the rule of only giving them two meals a day, omitting supper. Instead of every person, men as well as women, washing their own clothing, as formerly, Mr. Esser introduced a system by which the clothing of all the inmates is washed by most improved steam machinery. A three-story concrete building was erected in 1890 for the express purpose of the laundry. Work in the laundry, as well as at road and wall building, farming, carpentering, etc., is done by able-bodied inmates, without other payment than their support. The renovation of the furniture in the house, the erection of a bath-house, stables and other outhouses, done during Mr. Esser's administration, were effected principally by pauper labor, saving much expense to the county. The buildings are heated by the hot water system. The institution has a fire department system of its own. Kerosene oil is now being used for illuminating purposes, but it is expected that electric lights will soon be introduced to lessen expense and the chance of a conflagration and great loss.

No person afflicted with contagious disease is admitted to the hospital. Should a case unexpectedly appear, a place for it will be found in an isolated house on the farm attached to the Almshouse.

The men and women are ever well clad; the clothing and shoes worn are made in the State prisons of the State, excepting the men's shirts and women's skirts, which are made by women inmates of the institution. Men are given tobacco, a quarter of a pound package to every week; women are given something extra each week to equal the consideration given the men. Invalids are specially fed, as necessity requires. Provisions and goods of all kinds purchased for the institution are bought in large quantities at wholesale, and under the present system of bookkeeping at the institution it can readily be seen when and where every article was purchased -- the cost, when received and by whom received. The business management is most excellent.

The expenditure for the maintenance of dependent children outside of the Almshouse has always been a large item in the county budget. As the law will not permit the keeping of a child over two years of age in the Almshouse, arrangement for their care has to be made with institutions outside. Children ranging in age between two and sixteen years, a county charge, are sent to these institutions, viz.: The Westchester Temporary Home for Destitute Children at White Plains, the Catholic Protectory at Westchester, the Home of the Missionary Sisters at Peekskill, the Orphan Home at Albany, and the Home of the Sisters of Divine Compassion at White Plains. At present there are about five hundred such children in these several homes, for the support of which the county pays, as board, $2.11 each per week. These children are committed by Overseers of the Poor, Justices of the Peace and Police Justices, for destitution and different misdemeanors; the Superintendent of the Poor has control over only those who are committed for destitution. The Board of Supervisors during its sessions of 1896-7, on suggestion of Supt. Esser, passed a law providing for the placing of children in private families and thus arranging for their support. Two lady agents are engaged under this law -- one Protestant and one Catholic -- for the purpose of placing children in private homes, and they act under the guidance and supervision of the Superintendent. Homes are selected with great care and after the most thorough investigation. The project has met with great success, and those entrusted with its fulfillment feel greatly encouraged. From April 1, 1897, to April 1, 1898, about one hundred children were provided with desirable homes; these children ranged from 8 to 15 years; five children, between the ages of 2 and 3 years, have found parents by adoption.

The cost of maintaining dependent children was reduced in 1890, by Superintendent Esser, from $65,000 to $45,000, by compelling the parents who were financially able, to contribute to the support of their children harbored in the public institutions; in 1892 the cost was further reduced to $35,000. In 1896, when Mr. Esser again assumed office, he kept the expense of the children's support down to $46,261.28, where it cost, under his predecessor in the year before $73,547.84. This year the appropriation for this particular purpose is $52,000.

The county farm, on which the Almshouse stands, contains 110 acres and furnishes a greater part of the needed supplies. The main building, about 200x70, will accommodate 510 inmates; the concrete building, used as a wash-house, is in size 40x60; the tramp-house is a wooden building, 25x80; another frame building, 20x40, is used as a lodging-house. The new hospital building, for the erection of which the Board of Supervisors recently appropriated, is being built, of concrete, three stories high, with basement, 50x80; the excavating, the dressing of stone, the building of foundation walls and much of the laboring work on the proposed building, is being performed by able-bodied inmates of the Almshouse. When completed the building will be provided with all modern hospital improvements. The structure will be located on line with the main building, on the west end, the roadway separating the two buildings.


Present Officials of the County Almshouse
Henry Esser, Superintendent.
Wesley Boyce, Keeper.
W. W. Mills, M. D., House Physician.
N. H. Freeland, M. D., Visiting Physician.
R. B. Coutant, M. D., and H. Beattie Brown, M. D., Consulting Physicians.
Frederick Crisfield, Clerk and Bookkeeper.
Mrs. Wesley Boyce, Matron.
Miss Susie Boyce, Assistant Matron.
Mrs. Louise Flagg, Professional Nurse.
James Potts, Professional Nurse.
Mrs. A. C. Strang, of Yonkers, Agent for placing Protestant children.
Mrs. A. E. Hume, of New Rochelle, Agent for placing Catholic children.


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My Comments

• In the 1890s, the majority of the inmates of the almshouse were men. Why? I'm assuming that women were no less likely to face indigence than were men, especially considering that women's job opportunities, personal liberties, and economic powers were far more restricted. Where were the indigent women? Did they manage to find refuge with friends or family? Did they stay on the streets? Or did they manage to support themselves through wage work (factories, housekeeping, prostitution)? 
• I wonder what it was like for a family to be forcibly "removed" to the poorhouse because their town's Overseer of the Poor had exhausted his funds. Considering that children weren't kept at the almshouse, I assume that children were regularly separated from their parents as a result of poverty.
• The practice of employing the poor "without other payment than their support" would probably be considered illegal and unethical today. The only situation in which this practice is acceptable today is in prisons, where inmates work for cents on the hour. 
• Men are given tobacco, whereas it would be inappropriate to provide tobacco to women (ladies, even paupers, should not consume tobacco).
• Of course institutions should be generally managed by men, but children, which belong to a woman's domain, are managed by "lady agents." Of course Protestant and Catholic children must be kept separate.
• The pride expressed the writer in relating how the cost of managing dependent children has been reduced seems kind of unseemly, especially since no consideration has been given to addressing the underlying factors that cause poverty. 
• This passage is saturated with the prevailing values of public institutions of the day: cleanliness, efficiency, order, discipline, progress, etc. Poverty is taken as a given, something that can be successfully managed given the right organization and technology. Human beings form a part of the machinery that houses and feeds them. The Almshouse is a microcosm of the world with its own supplies, laundry, hospital, etc., which aspires to self-sufficiency and machine-like proficiency.

The Almshouse in Photographs

These photographs, held by the Harvard University Library, depict the almshouse complex as it appeared around the time of the 1901 map. The image above is labeled "panorama from the rear." Looking at a modern topographical map of the area, there is a ridge that runs northwest/southeast along the present Saw Mill River Parkway, which I believe is the ridge in the picture. That could make the white line that you can see in the left background of the picture the road that runs on the west side of the almshouse complex; thus the picture (if I am right) was taken facing west. I could be wrong, but I have some further evidence (to be featured in a later post) that may help to confirm or deny my theory.



This photograph is labeled simply "almshouse," but if you note the four dormers and the Mansard-roofed building directly to the rear of it (and the smaller Mansard-roofed addition on the right), it seems to be the same building that is shown in the photograph below, labeled "Women's yard and rear of main building." This photo gives a sense of how many different phases of construction the almshouse has undergone. The photo above is also notable for the presence of people standing in front of the main building - are they residents of the almshouse, drawn outside by the novelty of the photographer in their midst?

Here's another photograph of the main building, which gives a better view of the stone facade, the many attached buildings stretching off to the right of the photo, and the decorative molding. I am intrigued by the white post running through the left foreground, which doesn't seem to be visible in the other photograph; is it a flagpole?

Another view of the main building and its attachments with stone wall, driveway, and trees in the foreground. Any guesses as to the reason certain tree trunks are white? This photo and the one above are labeled "Residence Buildings."



This is the front and rear views of the hospital. Notable: pediment, arched doorway, women on the porch (nurses?), stable or barn or some kind in the background, rear wings that look like an addition, fenestrated basement.

The photograph below is labeled "Laundry; dormitory for men on upper floors." You can see the washing hanging on the line in the foreground, attached to the tree (with the strange white-painted trunk). There seems to be a wood pile on the side of the building. Apparently the building was originally intended as a double house or dormitory, with its two off-center doors.

Labeled simply "barns." The almshouse complex was a working farm, and able-bodied inmates were expected to work for their keep. Those who couldn't do manual labor were given less strenuous tasks. 

Lastly, another view of the complex, showing the main building, gardens, and barns. I'm not sure where this photo would have been taken from, though I suspect it is looking west; perhaps the photographer was on the roof of another building.

Almshouse in Maps: 1914 Bromley Map

The 1914 Bromley map of Mount Pleasant offers a view of the almshouse in relation to Kensico Cemetery (see below) as well as a detailed view of the multiple buildings in the almshouse complex. There seem to have been eight buildings in the 1901 map -- one large and seven small -- whereas the 1914 map shows eight buildings of varying sizes, most larger than those shown on the 1901 map.



James Butler and John D. Rockefeller are still named as the landowners of the properties surrounding the almshouse complex. In the full map below, you can see that part of the land directly south to that of James Butler's has been parceled out as "Proposed filter beds New York City water supply." The development of the New York City watershed in Westchester County began in the 1890s. In Mount Kisco, it necessitated the destruction of a large portion of the downtown village.