Matthew Algeo

New in Nestletrip: A frank and honest account of the embarrassing typo in my new book.

The Typo How in the word did this happen?!

I have three audiobook copies of New York’s Secret Subway to give away. If you’re interested, just leave a comment (anything, even just a punctuation mark) on this post. On Sunday morning (Nov. 2) at 9 CT, I will choose three commenters at random and send them the code to claim the book. (Note: You must have a Spotify account to redeem the code.) Thanks to all for the support, good luck, and please help spread the word about the book!

Nice review of New York's Secret Subway in the Wall Street Journal today. “Delightful… Mr. Algeo, an author and public-radio journalist, recounts this history with charm, concision and evident relish for the riot of period color…. His sources are a feast of drollery and starchy elegance.” Link to pdf in comments if you don't want to give the Murdochs any money...

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DMi4ZsSJ-Bu/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MTk3end3aW5kdHJ1YQ==

Pre-order New York’s Secret Subway: The Underground Genius of Alfred Beach and the Origins of Mass Transit … Link in bio … #HistoryNerd #NonfictionHistory #SubwayHistory #NYCHistory #HiddenHistory #NonfictionBooks #AuthorsofInstagram #Bookstagram #TransitHistory #ForgottenHistory

In April 1899, workers clearing the rubble from a burned-out building in lower Manhattan came upon a brick wall underneath the sidewalk on the corner of Broadway and Warren. Breaking through it, they discovered the old Beach Pneumatic Railway tunnel. At the far end of the tunnel was the carriage, once exquisitely appointed, now rotting away. A reporter who visited the site called the dilapidated carriage a “pneumatic coach more magical than that fashioned by Cinderella’s godmother.”

Alfred Beach’s son, Frederick Converse Beach, who had supervised the night crew that dug the tunnel and was a conductor on the little carriage, went down to the tunnel with his own son, Stanley Yale Beach. Holding a lantern, Stanley carefully made his way to the end of the tunnel and took a seat inside the carriage. This photograph shows Stanley looking out one of the the carriage’s distinctive oval windows. The streak of light is from a lantern that Beach carried. (Credit: From the Collections of The Henry Ford)

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When Alfred Beach began digging the tunnel for his secret pneumatic subway underneath Broadway in 1869, there were only two means of public transportation in New York, the omnibus and the horsecar. An omnibus (shown here on the left) was essentially a stagecoach pulled by a team of two or four horses. A horsecar (on the right) was larger and ran on rails, making for a smoother and moderately faster ride, and was also pulled by as many as four horses.

At their peak, the omnibus and horsecar companies employed more than ten thousand horses, each of which could produce more than thirty pounds of f***s and four gallons of urine every day. That added up to three hundred thousand pounds of p**p and forty thousand gallons of p*e daily, much of which was deposited directly on the streets. The equine waste was a superb vector for diseases, including cholera and tetanus.

That was one especially enticing adavnatge of Beach’s pneumatic subway: no horses, so no horse p**p. How could it not succeed?! (New York's Secret Subway: The Underground Genius of Alfred Beach and the Origins of Mass Transit will be released Sept. 30.)

(Photo: Library of Congress)

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Today I visited a Kansas ghost town called Silkville, about an hour south of Lawrence. It was founded c. 1870 as a utopia by an eccentric (of course) French socialist named Ernest de Boissière. The residents, mostly French immigrants, cultivated silkworms, and the town’s silk was said to be exceptional, but financial problems led to Silkville’s collapse in the early 1890s. This building was the town’s school house. The history of Silkville could make an interesting topic for a podcast…

UPDATE! My friend and fellow author Sharon DeBartolo Carmack forwarded this post to a friend at the New York Historical (fka the New-York Historical Society), who replied as follows:

“It seems the sculptor was Waldemar Rannus (1880–1944), some of whose work is in the Brooklyn Museum. There's a short article in the New York Times of 15 Sep. 1932 saying that he had been commissioned by the New-York Historical Society (!) to create the plaque for the City Hall Station of the BMT line (not to be confused with the abandoned, and landmarked IRT City Hall Station). The article mentions that Rannus was a friend of Stanley Beach. Apparently there was such a plaque in place until in the station least until 1964, when it was mentioned in the Daily News. What's become of it now I couldn't say, but maybe the folks at the Transit Museum would know?"

What do you think, New York Transit Museum?

Original post:

Here’s a mystery: These two photos I found in the Stanley Yale Beach Papers at Yale. They appear to depict a plaque commemorating Alfred Beach, who was Stanley’s grandfather. The plaque depicts Alfred in profile, his pneumatic rail car emerging from the tunnel, and the inscription, “Alfred Beach / Father of the Subway / 1826–1896.” One image is of the plaque, the other, I would guess, shows the artist with the plaque. I have no idea what became of this plaque or who the artist was. I am aware of stories that a plaque honoring Alfred was to be installed in the City Hall subway station, which now occupies the space where Alfred’s tunnel was. But, as far as I can tell, the plaque never was installed. Presumably (though one must be careful to presume with mysteries like this), this is the plaque that was meant to be installed. What happened to it is anyone’s guess…

(My book, New York's Secret Subway: The Underground Genius of Alfred Beach and the Origins of Mass Transit, will be released Sept. 30.)

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This is another gem from the Stratford Historical Society, a letter from Moses Beach to his brother Alfred dated July 3, 1869, soon to be 156 years ago. The letter concerns a business transaction unrelated to the pneumatic subway, so the real interest for me is that letterhead. Isn’t it gorgeous?! That’s Ae**us in the center, the god of wind blowing into the sails of what looks like a train of ships on rails. Priceless.

(New York's Secret Subway: The Underground Genius of Alfred Beach and the Origins of Mass Transit will be released Sept. 30.)

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I love this photo. It’s an inventor named Charles Harvey demonstrating his elevated railroad on Greenwich Street in New York on December 7, 1867. Would you ride that thing?! This was only a test run, of course. Eventually Harvey would build enclosed carriages. Unfortunately he lost the railroad in a financial panic, that killer of 19th century dreams. But his “one-legged railway” would survive well into the 20th century. (Credit: Library of Congress)

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