Although we know Huntington to be a great place in the summer, few of us think of our hometown as a summer resort. Yet in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, Huntington was as popular a place for a summer vacation as the Hamptons are today.

Starting in the 1870s, summer visitors could avail themselves of a waterfront inn established by the famous and colorful boxer and Brooklyn saloonkeeper William Clark on the shores overlooking Huntington Bay.

Clark was a bare-knuckle bantamweight fighter, who was known as the “Belfast Chicken.” The nickname didn’t have anything to do with any lack of courage. He was known to fight outside his weight class and his most famous fight was with the English champion Jem Mace, which lasted 99 rounds until the police stopped the fight.[1]   In 1910, when Clark was 82, a boxing trainer from San Francisco, suggested a re-match with Mace, who was then 79 years old (Mace would die a few months later).[2]

Clark had come to New York from Belfast in 1851. He opened a couple of restaurants in lower Manhattan before moving to San Francisco, where he reportedly made “a good deal of money” before the Civil War. He came back to New York with suitcases filled with gold, which he sold for $40,000 (about $625,000 today). He opened a hotel in Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn, got divorced, returned to San Francisco, and then came back to New York and opened a saloon on Fulton Street, Brooklyn called Clark’s Shades.[3]

Portion of James Long Scudder's 1875 painting of the Hawkins House.

Portion of James Long Scudder’s 1875 painting of the Hawkins House.

In 1878, he purchased the old Hawkins House overlooking Huntington Bay on a hilltop west of Bay Road. The Hawkins House replaced an earlier home of the Fleet family. Clark opened “a magnificent summer hotel.”[4] Business at the Huntington hotel was good. There were 60 to 70 guests at the hotel most of the summer and Clark made plans to expand.[5] In 1879, a new road (now known as Locust Lane) was established to provide better access to the waterfront. That same year Clark enlarged his hotel. A typical advertisement for the hotel boasted that it was “one of the coolest and healthiest places on Long Island; no mosquitoes or malaria; rooms and table first class.”[6]

In 1883, Clark advertised the hotel for sale. There were no takers. Two years later, Robert Cornell Townsend took up summer residence at Clark’s hotel. Townsend was a descendent of a wealthy old family from Flushing. According to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle “Townsend was born with a golden spoon in his mouth and passed his youth as befitted a man of wealth who had the entrée into many of the best houses on Long Island, and among the best people of New York.”[7] His father had died when he was four years old. Townsend became “an amateur boxer of some note.” It was perhaps that avocation that led the 38-year-old Townsend to Billy Clark.

When Townsend came to Huntington, he was accompanied by a woman he introduced as his wife. Townsend purchased the hotel from Clark early in 1886. Although The Long-Islander identified him as the “new proprietor of the Clark House,”[8] the Brooklyn Eagle later reported that Townsend converted the hotel to a private residence.

Whatever the case may be, Townsend kept on the red haired Irish cook from Clark’s hotel. Mary Ann Murphy was a well-educated and refined immigrant whose father had had a large farm in Ireland. Unfortunately Mr. Murphy suffered a reversal that caused his daughter to emigrate and find work as a servant.   Townsend and Murphy soon fell in love. Who pursued whom is unclear, but by Christmas, they were married at St. Patrick’s church in Huntington (after receiving a special dispensation from the Bishop, not because Townsend was previously married, but because Townsend was not a Catholic). The other woman—the one presumed to be Townsend’s wife—was out of town at the time and a scene ensued when she returned. But she soon yielded.

By all accounts, Townsend’s new wife took good care of him, but ill health (his father had been only 44 years old when he died) and fast living soon took their toll. The Brooklyn Eagle later contended that Townsend “yielded more and more to the desire to drink which had been acquired in the fast life of his youth. . . . He sought the companionship of the hangers on in the village gin mills and was a great favorite of them on account of the liberal supply of stimulants which he always provided.”[9] A local newspaper simply noted that he had been “such a prominent figure in our village life.”[10]

Townsend died on May 20, 1888, almost a year and half after his marriage. His will left an estate diminished by his extravagant lifestyle; yet it still totaled about $75,000, or almost $2,000,000 in today’s dollars. Townsend’s East Neck property was sold by the executor of his will in early 1891 to Nelson May, who was connected with the Huntington Company, the firm that had developed summer cottages in Hale Site, just west of the hotel property.[11] May announced plans to enlarge the building to accommodate 250 guests—far more than the 60 to 70 guests at Clark’s hotel. The Long-Islander welcomed the news, noting that “What has been needed in Huntington for a long time will now be forthcoming, a first class hotel with first class accommodations,”[12] implying that Clark’s hotel did not provide “first class accommodations.”

The purchase of the Townsend property by a party connected to the Huntington Company fulfilled a plan first announced when James Dill and Albert Palmer purchased East Neck property five years earlier: to provide a club house with accommodations for 40 to 50 lodgers.[13]

May did not immediately enlarge the hotel. But he did add another attraction: sailboat races in front of his hotel, which was renamed Locust Lodge.[14] May’s hotel also hosted Fourth of July festivities featuring fireworks and dancing. Young Edith Cartledge, whose father later would purchase the George Shaw estate to the east of Locust Lodge, wrote in her diary about her summers at Locust Lodge. On July 4, 1893, she watched the fireworks from the hotel and then listened to a group of singers. On other summer days at the hotel, she went sailing, sat on the hotel’s piazza to sew, watched the boys play tennis, went swimming, and read. Locust Lodge was a wonderful summer retreat.[15]

Unfortunately, at the end of its third season under May’s ownership, the hotel was destroyed by fire. May built a new hotel that was much larger than the original. The new Locust Lodge was a 12,000 square foot, three story building with a 10-foot wide porch on three sides.

Even bigger changes were in store in 1906 when Locust Lodge was sold to three French brothers who ran a popular restaurant in Manhattan. Andre, Jacques and Louis Bustanoby had earlier purchased the Sammis farm on West Neck (now Lloyd Harbor), but disposed of that a year later when the Locust Lodge property became available.[16] They wished to create a Long Island compliment to their successful midtown restaurant, Café Des Beaux Arts, located in the Beaux Arts Studio building at Sixth Avenue and 40th Street.

The three Bustanoby brothers were immigrants from France. Andre, the oldest brother, had studied architecture at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris. He and Louis arrived in New York and found work in restaurants starting as waiters and working their way up, ostensibly with the intent of learning all they could about the restaurant and hotel business. Andre said he had worked in various departments at 36 different hotels and restaurants throughout the country. With all that they had learned, they, along with a third brother Jacques, opened the Cafe des Beaux Arts.

The Bustanobys arrival in Huntington came at a very exciting time for the local community. Long Islanders eagerly awaited the construction of the Long Island Motor Parkway, or Vanderbilt’s Speedway as it was familiarly known at that time. The new roadway would make Long Island a destination for “automobilists” and it was assumed their favorite rendezvous point would be at the Bustonobys’ new hotel, which would also be a favorite port of call for yachts. Proposals were made to build a boulevard from the Great South Bay to the Sound.[17] Steps were taken to widen New York Avenue.[18] The trolley line from the harbor to the train station was to be electrified and extended to Amityville. Plans—never realized—were also made to extend the trolley right to the Bustanobys’ new hotel.[19] A new road from Mill Dam to the new hotel was also proposed, but likewise never built.[20] The Bustanobys even set aside room on their property for a landing strip for airships. “It may seem odd now, but it will be commonplace in a few years to see people in their aerial machines making a fifty or one hundred mile trip for dinner,” explained one of the brothers.[21]

The brothers planned to expand the Locust Lodge Hotel—renamed the Chateau des Beaux Arts—and hired the prestigious architectural firm of Delano and Aldrich to design a waterfront casino in the beaux-arts style that would accommodate diners at the water’s edge with broad terraces and a rooftop garden. The two story casino measured 140’ by 60’ with towers at either end. It was connected to the hotel by tunnels and between the buildings was a landscaped garden. A separate bakery building, with a footprint almost as large as that of the casino, was built into the hillside along the west side of Bay Road. Although called a bakery, this may have been where most of the cooking for the casino’s large dining room was done. The bakery was connected to the casino with a tunnel reportedly big enough to drive a pick-up truck through (these tunnels were reportedly used by rumrunners during Prohibition).   A long pier extended into the bay to accommodate yachts of any size. And, of course, garages were provided to welcome hundreds of automobilists.

Enthusiasm for the new venture ran high:

From the heat and bustle and noise of the metropolis a spin of an hour and a half over fine macadam highways, a dash across thickly wooded hills with glimpses of shaded ravines and quaint old towns and then! A bit of Paris! A bit of Venice! A European watering place transplanted to the shores of Long Island Sound! That is what automobilists are promised in the splendid new Chateau des Beaux Arts now rising like magic on the sloping shores of Huntington Bay, thirty-five miles out from New York.[22]

The former Locust Lodge, rechristened as the Chateau des Beaux Arts.

The former Locust Lodge, rechristened as the Chateau des Beaux Arts.

When it opened, the Chateau des Beaux Arts was a hit. In 1907, even before the casino and pier were completed, the New York Yacht Club included Huntington Bay on the itinerary of its summer outing.[23] The Harmsworth International Motor Boat races were held in the bay in front of the Casino in 1908 and from 1910 to 1912. Movie producers also took advantage of the Beaux Arts scene (social and otherwise) to film several silent movies—few of which survive. Tales of gambling tables misapprehend the meaning of the name “casino.” Any resort of any size would have had a casino, meaning a clubhouse for social and recreational pursuits. While there may have been money wagered at a card table from time to time, there certainly were no roulette wheels—gambling was illegal. [24] Nonetheless, Huntington Bay was the place to spend the summer.

The Casino des Beaux Arts from the Chateau.

The Casino des Beaux Arts from the Chateau.

The brothers soon announced plans to develop the property beyond the hotel and casino. They hired local surveyor Conrad P. Darling to lay out 34 residential lots on the 50 acres south of the hotel. Beaux Arts Park, as the development was called, featured curving streets and large lots. Purchasers would receive a garage lot of 25’ x 100’ as well as two bathing cabins. A promotional piece described the offerings:

Beaux Arts Park is entrancing. The fervor and fire of Byron is needed to do justice to its charms. The rolling hills, the undulating lawns, the bold cliffs and rugged headlands, the splendid beach, the sapphire sea water, the majestic sound, the passing night steamers, like fairy palaces of light, the white sails of yachts—the whole panorama from dawn to dawn (sic) is a constant kaleidoscope of color, grace, charm and splendor.[25]

Although it was reported that several lots had been sold, no houses were developed under this plan. In 1911 a new plan was filed containing 114 lots on the same 50-acre site. The lots of a third of an acre and larger were to be developed with French villas and chateaus.   Those buying property from the brothers were not just buying a house, they were buying a lifestyle:

Cooks, chambermaids, waiters, butlers or other household help, will be furnished by the hour, day, week, month or season, on application of our purchasers.

The property is fully protected by reasonable restrictions so as to preserve and enhance all of its natural charm and beauty.

All necessary suburban improvements are provided, and arrangements have been completed for the erection of a number of bungalows, chalets and villas.

The property is being developed and homes will be erected, with artistic taste and touch for which the French Nation is so justly noted, and of which, as is generally conceded, Bustanoby Brothers are the leading exponents in this country. The American features of convenience and comfort, however, will be carefully combined, so that Beaux Arts Park will appeal to people of discriminating taste and artistic mind, and shall be known as the “Home of Fine Arts, beauty, comfort and luxury,” a blending of “La Belle France” and “Practical America.”[26]

In August, workers used dynamite to clear stumps for the roads in the new development. Only five houses were built in accordance with this plan.   The five houses survive and are listed on the National Register of Historic Places as part of the Beaux Arts Park Historic District.

The five houses of Beaux Arts Park/

  The five houses of Beaux Arts Park.

The roaring success of the brothers’ enterprise came to a screeching halt just four months later. Two years earlier, there had been a falling out between Andre and Jacques on one side and their brother Louis on the other. Louis claimed his brothers were trying to drive him out of the partnership. Andre and Jacques agreed to pay Louis $100,000 for his one third interest in the business. The first of four payments was made. But when it came time to make the second $25,000 payment, Andre and Jacques decided to pay other creditors and give Louis a chattel mortgage and asked him not to file it to avoid alarming the other creditors. Louis did file the lien, which did alarm the other creditors. Faced with demands for payment on their debts, Andre and Jacques made an assignment of their assets for the benefit of the creditors.[27]

The brothers’ attorneys estimated the firm’s assets at $400,000, with liabilities slightly greater than that. Court filings a few months later revealed that the brothers’ liabilities amounted to $504,216, while their assets totaled only $247,083. There were 400 creditors, the largest of which was Elizabeth M. Anderson who held a $189,974 mortgage on the Huntington Bay property (she was also the purchaser of the Lloyd Harbor property the brothers sold after they acquired the Beaux Arts property and her husband was the landlord of their restaurant on Sixth Avenue and 40th Street). The brothers’ personal assets amounted to a trifle: Andre listed assets of 50¢ cash and $8 in the bank; his brother Jacques had 40¢ cash and $5 in the bank.

After giving up the Chateau, Andre and Jacques established other restaurants in Manhattan, but never reached the heights they had in Huntington Bay. Andre died at age 44 in 1916.[28] Louis died the following year, also at 44 years of age.[29] Jacques, the youngest of the brothers, continued in the restaurant business in Manhattan. He lived until 1942 when he died at age 62.[30]

With the Bustanobys’ bankruptcy, the fate of the Chateau was up in the air. The hotel apparently operated during the 1912 season.[31] There was some talk of the New York Yacht Club buying the property for use as a Long Island station, replacing the club’s Glen Cove location, but that talk amounted to nothing.[32]   The property was sold at a foreclosure auction held in front of the Suffolk Hotel on Main Street. The purchaser was Elizabeth Anderson, who held the mortgage on the property.

Subsequent newspaper reports seem to indicate that the property was sold a month later, but that appears not to be the case because Mrs. Anderson retained an ownership interest until 1920. However, she may have been one of the investors in a venture organized by prominent real estate investor Milton L’Ecluse.[33] Huntington Bay Heights Association, which had been incorporated in 1909,[34] had previously purchased 330 acres south of Beaux Arts Park. This large parcel consisted of the Henry and Gilbert Scudder farms (238 acres), the George S. Conklin farm (60 acres), and the Grant Hamilton property (32 acres).[35] The land contained large orchards with thousands of peach and pear trees as well as “magnificent groves of old trees.” The company, which was “composed of several wealthy New York and Long Island capitalists,” hired “Civil Engineer and Landscape Artist Conrad Darling” to prepare “plans for laying out the tract in accordance with a park scheme, with rounding roads and walks, and in from three to ten acre plots.”[36] The developers also hoped to open up the tract by building a 70-foot wide boulevard from East Main Street through the property to Beaux Arts Park. It was also hoped that the new trolley line would also be extended to the tract.[37]

It was the plan of the company in 1909 “to secure some shorefront so that each resident of the colony may have shore privileges.”[38] The purchase of Beaux Arts Park would fulfill that aspect of the plan. In 1913, the new road—today’s Huntington Bay Road—was laid out to connect East Main Street to the hotel property 1¾ miles away (the new roadway was accepted as a public road by the Town Board 15 years later). [39]

The hotel—renamed yet again, this time to Huntington Bay Lodge—continued to operate. During the 1913 summer season, it was under the management of Elmer E. Garretson.[40] In 1914, the hotel was operated by James Ranelman. Unfortunately for Mr. Ranelman, he took on so much debt running the hotel that he had to file for bankruptcy by the end of the year.[41] Perhaps realizing that the hotel was not a financially viable option, a new venture was organized. In 1915, Milton L’Ecluse, George Taylor and others incorporated the Huntington Golf and Marine Club to lease the hotel property.[42] Nine holes of a new golf course were laid out within a month; the second half of the course was expected to be ready by July 4, 1915 (although later reports indicate the second half of the course was not completed until 1924). The golf course was laid out in a links pattern starting about one hundred feet or so south of the hotel building and continuing along one side of Huntington bay Road to a point about 225 yards south of today’s Copter Court. The course then swung to the northeast and then back to the northwest near today’s Golf Lane. Then the course turned west to Huntington Bay Road and north back toward the hotel. The club also included tennis courts and horses for hire. The hotel and cottages were still available to accommodate 100 guests. But now the venture’s finances were enhanced by 125 dues paying members of the club.[43]

Beaux Arts Park in 1909 (left) and 1917 (right)

Beaux Arts Park in 1909 (left) and 1917 (right)

Nonetheless, the venture lasted only five years. In 1920, the property was sold and the formation of a new club was announced. In May 1920, Mrs. Anderson sold 110 acres to the East Neck Holding Company, the president of which was former Secretary of the Treasury George B. Cortelyou.[44] Simultaneously, a new club was formed to lease the property from the holding company. The Huntington Bay Club was opened to “only those of unquestioned social standing. . . . It will include some of the best people on the north shore of Long Island. It will be maintained as an ultra-fashionable society resort.”[45] Unlike the short-lived Golf & Marine Club, where the initiation fee was $25 and annual dues were also $25, members of the new club would be required to purchase a $1,000 bond and to pay annual dues of $200. The intent was for the holding company to lease the property to the club until the club had raised enough money to buy the land at cost. [46]

The club became well known for its annual horse show organized by Frederick D. MacKay.[47] In 1925, the Huntington Bay Club Corporation, which had an identical membership as the club, was formed to hold the real estate. The Corporation leased the land to the Club. Membership fell to its lowest point in 1933, but rebounded the 1935. Nonetheless, the Club was not able to meet its obligations. The golf course was turned over to the newly formed Nathan Hale Golf and Marine Club, with the expectation that the new club would soon have bathing privileges as well.[48] The Bank of Huntington foreclosed on the golf course portion of the property in 1935.

Soon, the ill-fated property was leased to the newly formed Huntington Crescent Club. That club grew out of another foreclosure proceeding. The Brooklyn based Crescent Athletic-Hamilton Club had purchased the Roy Rainey estate on East Main Street and Washington Drive in 1930 to establish a country base. In addition to the Rainey estate, the club purchased 32 acres on the shore and built its own casino and beach facilities. But less than ten years later, the Great Depression caught up with the club and the golf course parcel was sold at auction to the East Neck Corporation (not be confused with the earlier East Neck Holding Company) and leased to a newly formed club known as the Huntington Crescent Club. Many of the members of the new club had been members of the Brooklyn based club. The foreclosure sale did not include the beachfront property (which is now the Town’s Crescent Beach). Instead East Neck Corporation acquired eight and a half acres of the old Beaux Arts property and leased it to the newly formed club.[49]

In the first year, the Huntington Crescent Club renovated the casino, but razed the old hotel for parking.[50] In the 1950s, the Huntington Crescent Club was facing some financial difficulties due to the loss of Brooklyn membership that had not been fully replaced by local members and perhaps in part by the loss of the clubhouse to fire in 1951. It was decided to separate the beach and golf operations. In 1957, East Neck Corporation sold the Beaux Arts property to East Riding Company, Inc.[51] East Riding Company in turn leased the property to the Head of the Bay Club, which had been incorporated in November 1956.

Shortly after the Head of the Bay Club’s lease term started in May 1958, the new club decided to demolish the Casino building noting that it “was in a state of disrepair and constituted a hazard to the residents of the area.”[52] It is believed that the action of the tides against the sea wall that constituted the north wall of the casino slowly undermined the structure. A new, smaller, clubhouse was built in its place. The large bakery building and small storage building were also demolished leaving few traces of the grand resort.

As for the Bustanobys’ planned community of French villas and chateaus, East Neck Holding Company filed a new subdivision map for a part of the property in 1925. The plan altered some of the streets, but was consistent with the 1911 plan. Most of the land remained wooded and undeveloped into the late 1940s. Edwin Johnson, president of a national construction company based in Brooklyn purchased the land and built a home for his family near the club property. Johnson’s firm had built the atomic research laboratory in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, a naval training station in Geneva, NY, and hundreds of homes throughout the country. Closer to home, they built the iconic Tryon and Perisphere and several of the concession buildings for the 1939 World’s Fair in Flushing and the west wing of Huntington Hospital (built in 1933).

In 1950, Johnson filed a subdivision plan for the remaining land of Beaux Arts Park at the south and east ends of the property along Bay Road. The new subdivision was named Fleetwood Acres, which seems like a nice recognition of the Fleet family, owners of the land in the nineteenth century. But that was just a coincidence. The name refers to one of the models of houses the Johnson firm built.

Beaux Arts Park is the section of Huntington Bay  outlined in red.

Beaux Arts Park is the section of Huntington Bay outlined in red.

[1] The Herald Democrat (Leadville, Colorado), December 1, 1910; New York Times, March 19, 1916; The Sun, March 19, 1916

[2] The Columbia Republican (Hudson, NY), June 10, 1910.

[3] Brooklyn Daily Eagle, March 28, 1885

[4] Ibid.

[5] The Long-Islander, September 6, 1878

[6] The Long-Islander, May 11, 1884

[7] Brooklyn Eagle, November 2, 1891

[8] The Long-Islander, April 4, 1886

[9] Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 2, 1891, page 6

[10] South Side Signal, May 26, 1888

[11] May’s attorney on the transaction was James B. Dill, the first to purchase lots at Bay Crest in 1886 and credited with “discovering” East Neck (i.e. Huntington Bay). Earlier real estate transactions were also in May’s name but he quickly turned those other properties over to the Huntington Company. This property was, however, to be held by May and used for hotel purposes.

[12] The Long-Islander, January 17, 1891

[13] The Long-Islander, October 2, 1886

[14] The Long-Islander, September 10, 1892

[15] Huntington Bay Hills History & Heritage (Bay Hills Property Owners Association 1992)

[16] They may a 140% profit on the Lloyd Harbor transaction. The Long-Islander, December 20, 1907, page 2.

[17] New York Times, September 22, 1906.

[18] The Long-Islander, December 21, 1906.

[19] The Long-Islander, July 21, 1911, page 2

[20] The Long-Islander, January 11, 1907

[21] The Long-Islander, July 31, 1908. The article did not indicate which brother made the statement.

[22] The Long-Islander, May 3, 1907

[23] The Long-Islander, August 9, 1907

[24] The Long-Islander reported on May 31, 1912—after the Bustanobys had lost the hotel—“We are reliably informed that plans are entertained to make a gambling resort of the former Bustanoby Chateau at East Neck. The people of Huntington are unalterably opposed to any such project, and if such infringement of the law is attempted, local officers will see that the undertaking comes to a speedy end.”

[25] The Long-Islander, December 4, 1908, page 2

[26] Beaux Arts Park promotional brochure

[27] The Long-Islander, December 22, 1911, page 3

[28] The Long-Islander, February 11, 1916

[29] The Long-Islander, August 10, 1917

[30] New York Times, March 24, 1942

[31] The Long-Islander, September 6, 1912. This article about a small fire at the Chateau refers to a bellboy and the proprietor indicating the hotel had been in operation.

[32] The Long-Islander, March 15, 1912, page 5

[33] A 1914 article refers to L’Ecluse as “part owner of the [Huntington Bay Lodge] property.” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, July 29, 1914

[34] Suffolk County News, November 19, 1909.

[35] The Long-Islander, June 25, 1909, page 5

[36] The Long-Islander, July 2, 1909, page 3.

[37] The Long-Islander, June 25, 1909.

[38] ibid

[39] The Long-Islander, May 23, 1913, page 1; The Long-Islander, January 6, 1928.

[40] The Long-Islander, May 23, 1913

[41] The Long-Islander, January 1, 1915

[42] New York Times, April 4, 1915

[43] The Long-Islander, May 14, 1915

[44] The New York Times, August 1, 1920.

[45] The Long-Islander, July 9, 1920.

[46] The Long-Islander, May 21, 1920

[47] The Long-Islander, May 31, 1935

[48] ibid.

[49] The Long-Islander, May 4, 1939, page 1

[50] The Long-Islander June 22, 1939, page 1; and December 14, 1939, page 8

[51] Suffolk County Clerk’s Office Deed Liber 4348, page 533

[52] Affidavit of George J. Stengel, president of the Head of the Bay Club, dated May 15, 1961 and submitted to the Village of Huntington Bay in support of an application to enlarge the new clubhouse that was built to replace the casino.

History is a process of discovery.  Even when we are not actively researching a particular topic, we learn new facts and interpretations that led to a more complete understanding of some other topic.  Such was the case when I recently saw a photograph on display in a London gallery that led me to reconsider the story of Richard Smith and his bull.

In April, I wrote about the long running dispute between Huntington and Smithtown concerning the two town’s overlapping claims to the same territory.  The dispute involved several lawsuits in both the English and the Dutch courts and wasn’t finally resolved for over two centuries.  At the end of that post I wrote: “As for the story about the Indians granting to Richard Smith all the land he could encircle in one day, there’s a reason the animal he rode was a bull.”


But perhaps there is some historical basis for the story.  My reassessment started at a special exhibit in London’s Guildhall Art Gallery.  The photographs on display were taken by Martin Parr, the City of London’s photographer in residence since 2013.  Mr. Parr captured the color and pomp of some of London’s  ancient traditions.  These are not the well-known and tourist friendly ceremonies of the Royal family.  They are the activities of London’s medieval guilds and churches.  Most of the ceremonies and groups shown had unusual sounding names.  One series of photographs was particularly obscure.  They were titled “Beating the Bounds on Ascension Day.”  One showed school children in uniform beating the ground with very long sticks.^

The photographs in the exhibit had no explanations beyond their titles.  So when I returned home I searched to find out what Beating the Bounds was all about.  It is a medieval Anglo-Saxon church custom to confirm the borders of a parish.  The priest would lead parishioners along the boundary of the parish, stopping along the way to beat the boundary markers–and sometimes young boys as well.  Not that the boys did anything wrong. Rather the intent was to impress upon those who could carry the memory of the boundary farthest into the future the importance of the event.  Sometimes a painful experience is easier to remember.  When he’s an old man, the boy will remember where he was hit with a stick.  Establishing parish boundaries was important because in pre-Reformation England, the parish was the basic division of jurisdiction.  The parish priest had to know which paupers he was responsible for care of;  over whom he had authority; and, perhaps most important, who was required to provide support for his parish.

Although the Reformation diminished the importance of the parish in civic affairs, the tradition continued–and still continues in some English parishes as evidence by Mr. Martin’s photograph.  English settlers in the New World carried the tradition with them; not to confirm parish boundaries, but to confirm town boundaries.*  In the colonies, there was less emphasis on beating  and prayers; what was required was to walk the boundary with representatives from the neighboring town.  This became known as perambulation.  The only states that still require perambulation are Massachusetts and New Hampshire.  But compliance is far from universal.  A similar tradition of walking the boundary line with one’s neighbor is depicted in the Robert Frost poem, Mending Wall.

The requirement was imposed in New York by the Duke’s Laws, promulgated on March 1, 1665 by Governor Richard Nicoll soon after the English seized New Amsterdam from the Dutch. The comprehensive Duke’s Laws included a section requiring each town to “sett their bounds within twelve months after their bounds are granted” and every three years thereafter.  The process was to be initiated by the “Ancientest Town.”  Three of the overseers from each town would perambulate the bounds and “renew their Marks.”  Such perambulations to take place between the 20th and the last of February.

It just so happens that two days after he issued the Duke’s Laws, Nicoll issued a patent to Richard Smith confirming his title to what we now know as Smithtown.  It is not only possible, but entirely likely, that Richard Smith followed the requirement in the Duke’s Laws to set out the bounds of his property within 12 months after the grant.  His perambulation could understandably be the basis for the bull story.  Sometimes even legends and tall tales have some basis in fact.

^To see the photograph by Martin Parr that inspired this additional research,visit https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2016/feb/19/photographer-martin-parr-eccentricity-city-of-london  It is the sixth picture down after the headline.

*To read more about the transfer of this ancient English tradition to New England, see di Bonaventura, Allegra (2007) “Beating the Bounds: Property and Perambulation in Early New England,” Yale Journal of Law & the Humanities: Vol. 19: Iss. 2, Article 1.  Available at: h p://digitalcommons.law.yale.edu/yjlh/vol19/iss2/1



Everyone knows Huntington is a great place.  But in this case, I use “rocks” as a noun, not a verb.

Ask any Long Island grade school student and they will tell you, Long Island was formed thousands of years ago by glaciers pushing soil and rocks down from Connecticut.  When the glaciers melted, the soil and rocks stayed behind to form Long Island.  Most of those rocks were small, but occasionally exceptionally large boulders would be left behind.  These are known as glacial erratics.  Many of these glacial erratics have been put to use as memorials and landmarks.

Here are some of Huntington’s most notable rocks.

Perhaps the most famous rock in Huntington. An account of the Nathan hale memorial's history and travels can be found on this site at https://huntingtonhistory.com/2013/06/06/nathan-hale-memorials-2/

Perhaps the most famous rock in Huntington. An account of the Nathan Hale Memorial’s history and travels can be found on this site at


Nathan Hale Memorials

George Taylor, who was the man responsible for the Nathan hale memorial rock, had another large boulder moved from his Hale Site estate to the Huntington Rural cemetery for his use asa his family's grave marker.

George Taylor, who was the man responsible for the Nathan Hale memorial rock, had another large boulder moved from his Hale Site estate to the Huntington Rural Cemetery to mark his family’s grave.


Not too far from the Taylor family plot is the most visited grave in the Huntington Rural cemetery. The grave of Harry Chapin is also marked by a boulder.

Not too far from the Taylor family plot is the most visited grave in the Huntington Rural Cemetery. The grave of Harry Chapin is also marked by a boulder.


The eighteenth century burying ground in Crabmeadow has lost most of its grave markers to time, neglect, and vandalism. In 2003, this boulder was installed to replace the missing individual markers.

The eighteenth century burying ground in Crabmeadow has lost most of its grave markers to time, weather, and vandalism. In 2003, this boulder was installed to replace the missing individual markers.

Although the boulder at Gold Star Battalion Beach does not mark any graves, it does memorialize the 137 Huntingtonians who died fighting in World War II.

The boulder at Gold Star Battalion Beach does not mark any graves; it memorializes the 127 Huntingtonians who died fighting in World War II.


Similarly, this boulder in the Village Green recognizes the ultimate sacrifice made by 48 men during the Vietnam War. These men are also remembered with a living memorial of Kwanzan cherry trees.

Similarly, this boulder in the Village Green recognizes the ultimate sacrifice made by 47 Huntington men during the Vietnam War. These men are also remembered with a living memorial of Kwanzan cherry trees.

The Daughters of the American Revolution placed this memorial at the Old Burying Ground in 1909

The Daughters of the American Revolution placed this memorial at the Old Burying Ground in 1909.  In fact, the Burying Ground was in use four decades earlier than the DAR women thought.


The DAR also placed this boulder on the Village Green to commemorate the Town’s earliest history.


On the North Meadow adjacent to the Village Green is a memorial to the man who helped expand the open space in the heart of the Town Spot.

On the North Meadow adjacent to the Village Green is a memorial to the man who helped expand the open space in the heart of the Town Spot.  To find out more about the North Meadow, read the entry at

Old Huntington Green: Preserving its Past, Planning its Future


This small rock markers the western end of the line between the colonial Village Green or Town Common and the North Meadow. Its twin near Park Avenue is missing.

This small rock marks the western end of the line between the colonial Village Green or Town Common and the North Meadow. Its twin near Park Avenue is missing.


From the valley of Park Avenue to the highest point of Long Island, this boulder marks the summit of Jayne's Hill, a favorite spot for Walt Whitman to visit.

From the valley of Park Avenue to the highest point of Long Island, this boulder marks the summit of Jayne’s Hill, a favorite spot for Walt Whitman to visit.


This boulder was dredged from the bottom of Cold Spring Harbor. It was originally placed in front of the odl Cold Spring Harbor library on Shore Road to commemorate the hamlet's whaling history. When the library moved from that location in the 1980s, the boulder was moved to the Whaling Museum.

This boulder was dredged from the bottom of Cold Spring Harbor. It was originally placed in front of the old Cold Spring Harbor Library on Shore Road to commemorate the hamlet’s whaling history. When the library moved from that location in the 1980s, the boulder was moved to the Whaling Museum.


Near the waerfront in Northport village is perhaps the greatest concentration of memorial boulders in Town.

Near the waterfront in Northport village is perhaps the greatest concentration of memorial boulders in Town.





The Centerport memorial park utilizes both natural boulders and finished granite.

The Centerport memorial park utilizes both natural boulders and finished granite.



Heckscher Park has its share of boulders.

Heckscher Park has its share of boulders.  This is the most well known.


Heckscher Park also features the use of cobblestones. The design by Roalnd Van Waldenburg inspired many similar cobblestone walls throughout Town.

Heckscher Park also features the use of cobblestones, seen here on the entrance gate and the cottage.  The design by Roland von Waldburg inspired many similar cobblestone walls throughout Town.


The only famous Huntington boulder not moved by artificial means. Target Rock still sits where the glacier left it off the east side of Lloyd's Neck. (Although technically in Oyster Bay, we can claim it as Huntington's)

The only famous Huntington boulder not moved by artificial means, Target Rock still sits where the glacier left it off the east side of Lloyd’s Neck. (Although technically in Oyster Bay, we claim it as Huntington’s).  This bird could not have nested here when the rock got its name.


The rock was used by British warships for target practice, but the bulls eye was added much later.

The rock was used by British warships for target practice during the Revolution, but the bulls-eye was added much later.


Another painted rock now sits on the grounds of Huntington High School. This rock, which originally sat on the other side of the hill on the corner of Houldsworth Drive and Horizon Drive. Since 1961 it has been used by the students of Huntington High off and on. In 1986 the Rock was official moved from its NY Telephone location to its current location. In October of 1986 NY Telephone gave the school an official plaque to commemorate the move. The Rock has been used to mark reunions, graduations, congratulatory messages and such since its move.

Another painted rock now sits on the grounds of Huntington High School. This rock, which formerly sat on the other side of the hill on the corner of Houldsworth Drive and Horizon Drive has been used by high school students since 1961 (shortly after the high school moved to this location and Houldsworth Drive was created) to mark sporting events, birthdays, reunions, and other notable events.  The rock was moved to its current location at the exit from the high school in 1986.


Despite having been painted for more than 50 years, the layers of paint is not as thick as you might have suspected.

Despite having been painted for more than 50 years, the layers of paint are not as thick as you might have suspected.


Even Billy Joel gets a boulder.

Even Billy Joel gets a boulder.

Taking up just one page in the printed Huntington Town Records, the so-called Eastern Purchase seems straight forward enough. But this simple document spawned a dispute with Huntington’s eastern neighbor that would not be finally resolved for over two centuries.

In 1656, three years after the first Huntington purchase, Jonas Wood, William Rogers, and Thomas Wilkes traded seven quarts of liquor, two coats, four shirts, and eleven ounces of powder for all the land on the north side of Long Island between Cow Harbor (Northport) brook and the Nissequogue River.   The deed was given by Asharoken, the sachem or leader of the Matinecocks.

This new purchase encompassed a territory somewhat larger than the six square miles of the First Purchase. Yet the Huntingtonians seem not to have made an effort to settle there.

In a seemingly unrelated incident, the daughter of Wyandanch, the Grand Sachem of Long Island, was kidnapped on her wedding night by the Narragansett of Connecticut. Lion Gardiner, a military engineer and soldier who established the first English settlement in New York, had befriended Wyandanch and rescued the Grand Sachem’s daughter. In thanks for returning his daughter, Wyandanch gave Gardiner land in Nissequogue in 1659, three years after the Eastern Purchase. The exact bounds of this land are unclear.

In 1663, Gardiner conveyed the land to his friend Richard Smith. It is unknown if Gardiner sold the land or gave it as a gift—according to some accounts the land was lost in a card game. Smith had left England in 1635. He was in Massachusetts until about 1643 when he resettled in Southampton, shortly after that Town had been established. Despite holding a leadership position in Southampton, he was banished from the Town in 1656 because of “his Irreverent carriage towards the magistrates.”[1] Smith then moved to Setauket.

The statue of Richard Smith unveiled in 2015 as part of Smithtown's celebration of its 350th anniversary.

The statue of Richard Smith unveiled in 2015 as part of Smithtown’s celebration of its 350th anniversary.

In order to secure his claim to the land Gardiner had given him, Smith petitioned the General Court in Hartford, which had jurisdiction over Long Island, to confirm his ownership. The political landscape changed in the summer of 1664, when the English seized New Netherlands from the Dutch as a prelude to the second of three Anglo-Dutch Wars of the seventeenth century. Long Island was now under the jurisdiction of the colonial governor of New York, Richard Nicoll.   So Smith secured a patent from Nicoll on March 3, 1665 confirming his ownership. The patent required that ten families be settled on the land within three years.[2] Smithtown celebrated the 350th anniversary of this patent last year.

Later that year Smith also received a deed from the Nissequogue Indians for land west of the Nissequogue River. He made sure to secure another confirming patent from Gov. Nicoll. Unfortunately, this patent, dated March 25, 1667, neglected to specify the western boundary of the tract. The patent covered the land bounded “Easterly by a certain run of water called Stony Brook, stretching north to the Sound, and southerly bearing to a certain fresh water pond, called Ronkonoma, being Se-a-tal-cott’s west bounds; which said parcel of land was heretofore granted by patent to Richard Smith by Richard Nicoll.”[3]

Just four months earlier, Governor Nicoll had issued a patent to the inhabitant of Huntington granting them the land from Cold Spring River on the west to the Nissequogue River on the east and from the Sound to the Sea.[4] Perhaps no one in the governor’s office was in charge of fact checking to make sure the two patents didn’t overlap. Or perhaps someone did notice the discrepancy and that’s why the western boundary in the later Smith patent was left out. Whatever the case, the conflicting boundaries would lead to years of litigation between the people of Huntington and Richard Smith.

The first indication of the dispute to be found in the Huntington Town Records is a promise by John Jones in 1668 to bear the cost of any lawsuit by Smith of Smithfield (as Smithtown was sometimes known) that may arise in connection with an allotment Jones had purchased from Richard Floyd.[5]  There must have been some action by Huntingtonians–either settlement or at least an assertion of a claim to the land–that caused Smith to commence legal action.

The dispute ended up before Governor Francis Lovelace and his council in New York on October 6, 1670. The dispute was not a question of someone conveying the same land to two different people. The dispute was about who had the right to convey the land—the Matinecocks or the Nissequogues.

Smith commenced the action to assert his claim to the land west of the Nissequogue. Smith’s attorneys presented the deed from Wyandanch to Gardiner, the deed from Gardiner to Smith, and the deed from Nesconset, sachem of the Nissequogue to Smith. Smith also introduced testimony that the Connecticut Council (“under whose Government that part of Long Island then held themselves to bee.”) suggested that Smith get a deed from the native inhabitants as well “to prevent all Disputes about it.”[6] Good advice, but it didn’t help in this case.

Smith also introduced testimony from over a dozen Indians to establish that Sachem Nesconset had the authority to dispose of the lands west of the Nissequogue River. Some of the testimony introduced at the Court of Assize in New York had been given in an earlier action heard in Southampton.

In the afternoon, Huntington presented its case. Huntington, which was involved in other litigation involving both Lloyd’s Neck and Eaton’s Neck, reminded the court that when the town lost the Eaton’s Neck case in 1666, the governor promised, the Huntingtonians “should bee noe further molested about their Land.”[7] Some of Huntington’s evidence was disputed. It was noted, for instance, that the Eastern Purchase deed presented to the court “hath noe Christian Witness to it; and the Marks are all made with one Hand Writing.” Two men were brought forth who were said to have witnessed the 1656 transaction, “But it [the deed] being shown them They say they know not the Paper, and that it was not the Paper they had put their hands to.”

The most convincing testimony seems to have been that of Jeremiah Wood. He was about 55 years old and due to ill health his testimony was taken at his lodging in the city by two Justices of the Peace. Wood was one of the purchasers from Nesconset of the disputed land. He testified that the purchase was for land on the east side of the Nissequogue River. When the purchasers said they thought there was too little land on the east side and that they wanted to include land on the west side of the River, Nesconset “told them that hee nor his Indyans had not any right to any Lands there on the West side, only a small Neck of Land, conteyning about halfe a Mile from the said great River to the Little Brooke.” This would appear to be the small stream of water that runs south from the mouth of the Nissequogue River to Harrison Pond.   Wood also testified that he told Smith that the Nissequogue owned no land west of the little brook and Smith said, “hee knew that well enough.”[8]

The 12 man jury considered the various documents introduced into evidence and the testimony. The next morning they delivered a verdict in favor of Huntington. The court added a condition: “That as the plaintiff Mr. Smith had been obliged to settle the families, if he had made good his title against the defendant the inhabitants of the Town of Huntington to the land in dispute, so the defendant shall within the space of three years after the date hereof erect alike ten families.”[9]

Smith was not happy. His wife presented a petition to the governor requesting an explanation of the verdict. On December 1, 1670, the governor and council ordered that Huntington submit an answer. The record is unclear but it seems the governor and council wanted to determine fair compensation for Smith so that “there be no further trouble or molestation concerning this matter.”[10]

Huntington’s answer, if one was filed, has not been found. Instead in February 1671, the Town made arrangements to settle the ten farms as specified in the Court’s decision. The inhabitants of Huntington were divided into ten groups. Each group would be responsible for settling one of the ten farms. The selected farmers, who had to be approved by the Town, would be responsible for all legal fees incurred.[11]

On April 16 and 17, 1672, James Chichester, Samuel Titus, Jonathan Rogers, and Joseph Bayly laid out the ten farms from the head of the Nissequogue River to Crabmeadow Little Neck (the area between what is now the Jerome Ambro Preserve and Blanchard Lake). Farms one through four (about 20 acres each) were located between Nissequogue River and Fresh Pond, farms five and six (7.8 acres) were between Fresh Pond and Crabmeadow; farms seven through ten (12 acres) were between Crabmeadow and the Cove (now Blanchard Lake). Each farm also had 40 acres of upland and the benefit of what meadow there was nearest to them.

Lots were drawn among the ten groups of inhabitants of the town to determine who should get which of the farms. Each group was given one of the farms. Each farm had three to five owners (except Farm 3 which had only two owners); there were 29 named owners in total.

In September 1672, thirty Huntington citizens, most of whom were also owners of the Ten Farms, pledged £500 to secure their promise to settle each of the Ten Farms by building, fencing, “planting” as many persons in each farm “as may Properly be a family” as required by the Court to perfect their claim to the land. These subscribers invited any person of Huntington who was of good character to settle on these farms after reimbursing the proprietors for their expenses incurred in defending the Town’s claim to the land. The settlers would be required to:

  1. Erect and maintain sufficient fences around any land they take from the Commons, and to manure the fruit trees;
  2. Refrain from directly or indirectly by their children, servants or dogs hurting or chasing any of the cattle, horses, or hogs;
  3. Satisfy any claims to the land made by the native inhabitants;
  4. Never sell any of the lands to a vicious person or a person of a truly evil report;
  5. Utilize a distinctive ear mark for their cattle and record such ear marks in the town records;
  6. Mark calves, lambs and pigs within 14 to 20 days of their birth; and
  7. Not mark any wild horse until they can prove ownership.[12]

It is unclear how many settlers moved to the Ten Farms (it may have been only four[13]). But even if there were some Huntington settlers on the disputed territory, Richard Smith wasn’t about to give up his claim. He petitioned the Governor again in October 1672 complaining that Huntington introduced false evidence at the trial in 1670 and asking for a rehearing of the matter. The Governor gave Smith until the first Thursday in December to convince Thomas Benedict and Henry Whittng (sic) of Connecticut to appear at the Court in New York or produce other evidence to support his claim to justify a rehearing.[14] Presumably these the two Connecticut men were expected to give evidence of Smith’s claim that Connecticut granted him a patent for the disputed land.

On the first Thursday of December, the Governor, perhaps weary of this dispute, ruled that the matter would be held in abeyance until the following May when he would be holding a general training and meeting of the troops on the east end of the Hempstead Plain. At that time disinterested persons from the east and west ends of the island would be selected to go to the disputed territory to make inquiries and see if they could settle the issue. In other words, the Governor hoped to settle the matter by mediation.

It is unknown if the inspection scheduled for May 1673 took place. But war intervened again. The Dutch recaptured New York in July 1673 during the Third Anglo-Dutch War. Smith, never one to give up a chance to press his claims, commenced an action in the Dutch court. I have not located the records of this action, but Smith evidently sent a copy of a judgment in his favor to the inhabitants of Huntington. In July 1674, Huntington addressed a letter to “Neighbor Smith.” It is worth quoting in full:

By this yea may understand that what you left a paper for, at yea say the towne, in the hands of Joseph Whitman, written in an unknown tongue, to us, from whence it came or what it is, we know not, nether what you intend by it, we know not, but this we know, yet we shall take no notice of it, neither can we, and if you would have us know your mind you must speake and write in a knowne language to us; like wise take notice yt we heare, and intend to know more fully, shortly yt yoe or yours have ackted the part of theaves or robbers by usurping with impudent and shameless boldness to come upon our ground and to seize upon our peace for your owne use on unheard of practice and never practiced by honest men, therefor we doe by these presents, protest against your course and wee resolved first to defend our selves & our estates from the hands of violent usurpers, wth s, no more than the law of nature and nations allowed. Secondly, when the season comes, yoe may expect to have and except the due defeat of such demeritts.[15]  

By the time Huntington had received the indecipherable paper, the English had regained control of New York. Smith returned to the English courts and this time he prevailed. He asserted the deed produced by Huntington (i.e. the Eastern Purchase) was “a False bill of sale” and that Huntington produced false witnesses.[16] He claimed that in any event, the land was not Asharoken’s to sell. Smith said he had purchased the land from Neconsett, Sachem of the Nissequogue under authority of the Connecticut colony and that he had possessed it without incident for 7 or 8 years before Huntington disturbed him. Most importantly, Smith claimed that Huntington “hath not settled yt land according to Governor Lovelace direction.”[17]

Remarkably, the English court in September 1675 found that “the proceedings of the Dutch Court in this case to bee legall and judiciall, and therefore give judgment for the plaintiff.”[18] The outcome was remarkable, not just because it contradicted earlier English rulings, but because the English court was ratifying the decision of the Dutch courts less than two years after the two countries had been at war against each other. The reversal was most likely because Huntington failed to settle the Ten Farms as required by the 1670 decision.

The court’s decision was a compromise in two respects. First the Court granted to Smith only the eastern half of the disputed territory. Each side had claimed all the land from the Nissequogue River to Crabmeadow.[19] The court granted Smith only the land to the east of Fresh Pond. Second, while granting Smith ownership of the land, the Court ruled that the property was within the jurisdiction of Huntington because it was included in Huntington’s patent. This last point seems to have escaped the notice of later commentators.

In 1677, the Governor, now Edmund Andros, issued a patent to Smith confirming his title to the lands from Stony Brook to Fresh Pond.

But what of the Huntingtonians who had settled on the Ten Farms? The Court didn’t address that issue. A month after the court decision, those “poor farmers” submitted a petition to the Governor complaining that in reliance on the 1670 decision in favor of Huntington, the settlers “built upon, Cleared fences, Planted Plowed and so etc upon yt Land on the West side of Nessequauke River and Cutt and provided Hay for their Cattells Provizion this winter.”[20] Without some provision by the governor to allow them to rent or purchase the land, “Your poore Petitioners their wives and Children Must of necessity Inevitably and Ireparably bee ruined and undone.”

The governor apparently sent a letter to Huntington recommending that the Town supply the dispossessed settlers with comparable land within the bounds of the Town of Huntington. Huntington responded that it wasn’t their idea to settle the Ten Farms. They would have rather paid money for the land, but the Court’s decree obliged them to settle the land within three years or else forfiet all claims to it. Moreover, the town didn’t force the dispossessed farmers to move to the disputed territory; they settled there voluntarily. And they only had to reimburse the owners of the farms for the expenses the owners had incurred in asserting Huntington’s claim to the land, “which was an inconsiderable Sum for so much Land.” Regardless of the effort the settlers may have expended, the beneficiary of their building, fencing, clearing, and manuring was Smith.[21]

I have not located a record that bears upon this question, but Romanah Sammis writes that “individual ownership in the property, by some of those named in the ten-farm allotments, came about satisfactorily.” She cites Joseph Whitman—the settler to whom Smith had delivered the decision of the Dutch Court—who owned land near the Nissequogue River that stayed in his family until the early twentieth century.[22]

Even after all the controversy was finally settled, we find that the patent issued to Huntington more than a decade later in 1688 by Governor Thomas Dongan described the boundaries of the town as stretching from Cold Spring eastward to the Nissequogue River.   Six years later, however, a new charter issued by Governor Benjamin Fletcher changed the eastern border of the Town to the west side of Fresh Pond.[23] Three weeks later Smithtown and Huntington exchanged quick claim deeds for the land on the respective sides of Fresh Pond.[24]

Disputes between property owners as to the the exact location of the border were not fully resolved until 1884 when the Supervisors of the two towns finally settled on the boundary line and had marble monuments placed from the Sound to the Sea.[25]

As for the story about the Indians granting to Richard Smith all the land he could encircle in one day, there’s a reason the animal he rode was a bull.


Richard Smith’s bull, Whisper.



[1] Smithtown, New York, 1660-1929, Looking Back Through the Lens, by Noel J. Gish (1996), page 20.

[2] History of Long Island, Benjamin Thomson (1843), page 453.

[3] Thomson, page 454

[4] Huntington Town Records, Vol. I, page 92 (hereinafter HTR)

[5] HTR, Vol. I, Page 113

[6] Documents Relating to the History of the Early Colonial Settlements Principally on Long Island (Weed, Parsons and Company, Albany, 1883), page 640

[7] Early Colonial Settlements, page 641.

[8] Ibid, page 642.

[9] Ibid., page 643. Spelling modernized.

[10] HTR, vol. I, page 170

[11] HTR, Vol. I, page 176

[12] HTR, vol. I, page 193, et seq.

[13] Early Colonial Settlements, page 714, a 1675 petition by Huntington to the governor refers to “four farmers.”

[14] HTR, vol. I, page 197

[15] HTR, vol. I, page 210

[16] Smith wasn’t alone in questioning the integrity of the Huntingtonians. In October 1675, Mathias Nicolls, secretary to the governor, accused the inhabitants of Huntington, in particular Jonas Wood, Isaac Platt, Thomas Skidmore, and Thomas Powell with slandering the secretary’s good name by accusing him of falsifying the records of the colony particularly in connection with the land dispute between Huntington and Smith in April 1674. (Early Colonial Settlements, page 701).

[17] HTR, vol. I, page 209

[18] HTR, vol. I, page 213

[19] Although it appears Smith by this time restricted his claim to the land east of Fresh Pond. See HTR, vol, page 210.

[20] Early Colonial Settlements, page 702

[21] Early Colonial Settlements, page 713-15

[22] Huntington Babylon Town History, by Romanah Sammis (Huntington Historical Society 1937)

[23] HTR, vol. II, page 143

[24] HTR, vol. II, page 160.

[25] HTR, Vol. I, page 213 footnote

While you could say that historic preservation is its own reward, it is nice to have outstanding preservation projects recognized publicly.  In this spirit, Long Island’s leading historic preservation advocacy organization, the Society for the Preservation of Long Island Antiquities, recently recognized several projects, organizations and individuals for outstanding preservation work.

The 2016 awards were given to

Friends of Connetquot State Park – Organization Excellence
People for the Pavilion – Organizational Excellence
Old Whaler’s Church, Sag Harbor – Project Excellence
289 East Main Street, Huntington – Project Excellence
Sands Point Lighthouse, Sands Point – Project Excellence
Mr. Jake Gorst – Huyler C. Held Award for Publications

All are worthy recipients, of course.  But the one that was most meaningful to me was the recognition of the wonderful work of Peter Moore in restoring the late eighteenth century saltbox home at 289  East Main Street, Centerport.  And not just because the house is located in the Town of Huntington.  This project is meaningful because it shows that the most important ingredient in any effort to preserve our built environment is a sympathetic owner.

All the preservation codes, deed restrictions, tax incentives, and other carrots and sticks employed to preserve our past pale in comparison to the loving efforts of a dedicated homeowner.  Most remarkable of all is that Mr. Moore had no previous experience with historic restoration projects.  But he could see value in this little house that others could not.  He saw the potential that others did not.  He made the investment of time and money that others would not.

So what did Mr. Moore see when he first visited the property?  He saw a historic house that had only been used as a summer residence since the 1920s.  The last owner, Ruth Barto, died in 2009 and bequeathed the house to the Congregational Church of Huntington, which is located at the top of the hill behind the house (there is a stairway from the house to the church affectionately called “the stairway to heaven”).  The church did not have the resources to restore the house, nor could it make any use of the building.  In her will, Mrs. Barto encouraged the church to sell the property and use the proceeds to enhance the church’s endowment.

The house had been a cherished summer retreat for most of the twentieth century.  It was purchased by two friends in 1923.  Isabella Brandow and Eunice Allen, who lived and  worked in the City, visited the house on weekends.  Ms. Allen married and died in childbirth a few years later.  Ms. Brandow bought Ms. Allen’s ownership interest in the house from her estate.  Ms. Brandow thought that like any good vacation home, the little saltbox needed a name.  When Ms. Brandow went to  a performance of Hamlet and heard the Danish prince claim “I could be bound in a nutshell and count myself king of infinite space” she had the name:  “The Nutshell.”

The Nutshell around 1930

The Nutshell around 1930 (photo courtesy of the Greenlawn-Centerport Historical Association).

When Ms. Brandow died in 1945, her sister Margaret Muller, a Port Director for the United Seaman’s Service, inherited the house.  She spent most of her time overseas, but spent her home leaves at The Nutshell.  Ms. Muller died in 1973 and left the house to her niece Ruth Barto, who continued to spend summers at The Nutshell, just as she had as a child.

After Mrs. Barto died in 2009, the house sat vacant for three-and-a-half years.  Mr. Moore closed on the house a week before Super Storm Sandy hit Long Island.  This is what he found when he visited the property after the storm.


Luckily this large tree wasn’t taller or growing closer to the house or it would have destroyed the house.


phone1 023

Rot was clearly evident.


phone1 060

Mr. Moore, a master carpenter, was undeterred.  Over the next several months he made many trips to Old Bethpage Village Restoration to learn all he could about authentic period details that would be appropriate for the house.  He rebuilt the stone foundation, replaced rotted sills and siding, and made new moldings.  He installed a new bathroom and kitchen.  He winterized the house for the first time in its 200 year life.  The results of his work are amazing.


Peter Moore on the restored front porch.





Mr. Moore rents the house out.  His tenant reports that the spirit of Ruth Barto continues to inhabit the house.  I’m sure she is happy that her family’s beloved Nutshell has been given new life and that she thanks Mr. Moore for all his work.  And so should we.


For the first time in over sixty years, the lights on the Nathan Hale Memorial on Main Street in Huntington village are lit.  Lights were an original feature of the memorial, but they have not worked since at least 1954.

The monument lights working for the first time in over 60 years.

The monument lights working for the first time in over 60 years.

How the lights came to be restored is a story that starts in June 2013 when I posted an article about the Nathan Hale memorials in Huntington.  The article focused mostly on the famous Nathan Hale Rock and only briefly mentioned the memorial on Main Street in front of the Soldiers & Sailors Memorial Building.  One reader took me to task for not giving the monument on Main Street its due:

I’m not sure you do full justice to the memorial by calling it “a marble shaft” … yes that is what it is today but in its early days this Nathan Hale Memorial functioned as a PUBLIC DRINKING FOUNTAIN.

Of course, the reader is correct, the monument was originally a fountain (he could have also chastised me for writing the shaft is marble–it is, in fact, granite).

In his comment, the reader cites the 1919 edition of  Automobile Blue Book (“Standard Road Guide of America”), which mentions “a public drinking fountain on a marble shaft” (I wasn’t the only one who had trouble correctly identifying rocks) as one of the things to see when driving to Huntington.  The reader continues:

I have seen photos of the memorial from a little over a decade after it was erected (c.1905) that refer to it as the “Nathan Hale Memorial Drinking Fountain” but the photos do not give a clear enough detail of the memorial to see much about the fountain at the bottom. It does seem that the water basin that once caught the drinking water has been long ago removed. I assume it had a hand pump and was a well water drinking fountain originally but cannot make out a hand pump on the photos from the angles they were taken. (Photos from the 1940s/1950s, or about that time, appear to no longer show the water basin at the bottom).

* * *

Does anyone know any more about this memorial … like, for instance, when the drinking fountain was removed … and if there has ever been an attempt, over the years, to return it to its original function as a public drinking fountain (with maybe modern running water piped to it but activated by an ‘old fashioned style hand pump’ and a replica of the water basin ‘returned’ to the base … to keep it in the original flavor of the 1894 monument.

Here, as they say, is the rest of the story.

Soon after the statue of Nathan Hale was unveiled by the Sons of the American Revolution in City Hall Park in Manhattan on Evacuation Day (November 25), 1893, an effort was made to create a monument to the spy in Huntington, where he began (and maybe ended) his spying mission.  Famed architect Stanford White of McKim, Meade and White submitted the design and pledged $400 for the project.  The total cost of the memorial was estimated to be $1,900.  An association was formed to raise the remaining funds.  In April 1894, the association printed a brochure announcing the project and listing 52 Huntington residents who had pledged to donate to the project.  Pledges ranged from 50 cents to 100 dollars and totaled $813.50.  It was proposed that the balance should be donated by “the rest of Long Island and the sympathizers with the fate of Nathan Hale wherever they may be found.”

Stanford White proposed design.

Stanford White proposed design.

Whoever and wherever they were, the memorial was unveiled at a well attended public celebration on July 4, 1894.  The Long-Islander provided a full description of the 15-foot high monument:

The base is six feet square and of rough hewn stone.  It is hewed for a public drinking fountain and has two basins.  The one on the street side is a watering trough for horses or cattle and the one on the inside is for the people.  The water will flow into the street basin from the mouth of a dolphin and into the other smaller basin from the mouth of a lion.  Above the basin reaches a cylindrical polished granite column and on that rests a large rough-hewn ball.  On the front of the basins are engraved the simple words:


The memorial conveys the impression of dignity and simple beauty.

The shaft also held two lamps on either side.  It is unclear whether they were gas lit or electric.

Town Supervisor George Tileston accepted the monument “on behalf of the citizens of Huntington.”

“We accept it as a perpetual trust, engaging with you [the committee that commissioned it] that it shall be a continued inspiration to us and all those who shall come after us.”

After speeches and the unveiling of the flag draped memorial, the crowd assembled at the carriage factory on Wall Street for dinner.

The July 4, 1894 dedication of the new memorial

The July 4, 1894 dedication of the new memorial

Not all were so enamored of the monument.  Writing to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle two months after the dedication, “Burdock” reports that the people of Huntington “are generally exercised over” the new memorial.  His description  differs from the one given by the local newspaper.  Burdock reports that the monument “consists of a lamp-post, with two lamps, a spout for water from the post, and a drinking trough for horses, combined.”  He seemed most upset with the inscription: “To commemorate the capture of Nathan Hale by the British on the shores of Huntington bay in 1776.”  To Burdock, the inscription sounded like a Tory boast about the capture of the failed spy.

Burdock predicted the monument “would always be an annoyance and source of mortification to the people of the town as a whole, and probably is now to those who made such an almost unpardonable mistake, not only in the design, but in the inscription, which are in keeping with each other.”

The monument with the water trough for horses

The monument with the water trough for horses, note the marble tablet above the trough


The south side of the monument showing the drinking fountain for people.

The south side of the monument showing the drinking fountain for people.


The now dry lion head spout on the south side of the monument.

The now dry lion head spout on the south side of the monument.

There is no evidence of a hand pump in the photographs and the early descriptions of the monument refer to water pipes.  It would appear that the water was supplied by the Huntington Water Works Company.  But the supply was inconsistent at best.  A mention in the May 26, 1905 edition of The County Review, reports that “Huntington has a dry fountain. . . .  It is a curious sort of fountain for there is no water to be obtained there and the affair is an ornament only.”

Five year later, a Huntington resident wrote to The Long-Islander to complain about the condition of the monument.  The writer admires the monument, “the very interesting, and most artistic, double lantern, and drinking fountain.”  However, he questioned who has the responsibility for maintaining these monuments: “We notice the lanterns are falling to pieces owing to the lack of proper paint.  The glasses are broken, and the general immediate surroundings are in need of attention. * * * The lanterns would seem less pathetic if they might be put to their proper use, that is have lights in them, if only for a part of the evening.”

The writer also notes that the librarian (the library was then located in the nearby Soldiers & Sailors Memorial Building) placed a cup at the fountain on several occasions so that people could use the fountain as intended.

Two years later, the Daughters of the American Revolution and the Sons of the American Revolution both took up the matter of the condition of the monument.  By this time, not only were the lamps in poor condition, but the marble tablet with the inscription had fallen from its place and was broken.

The monument without the marble tablet

The monument without the marble tablet

The DAR address the matter first at its meeting in the afternoon of Monday, November 11, 1912.  The DAR appointed Mrs. John F. Wood to confer with the SAR about the matter.  That evening the SAR met and discussed the matter.  Conveniently they appointed John F. Wood (and Douglass Conklin) to confer with the DAR ladies.  The plan they decided on was “to replace the broken tablet with one of bronze, fix up the lamps, fountain, etc.”  The Huntington Light and Power Company offered to attend to the lamps and keep them lighted.  After the repairs were done, it was agreed “to turn the whole thing over to the town.”  It seems to have been forgotten that the Town accepted the monument “as a perpetual trust” in 1894 and was probably the entity that should have been making the needed repairs.

The fountain without the marble tablet.

The fountain without the marble tablet or the dolphin spout. A spigot can be seen on the south side.

I have not found a report of when the work was completed.  But the next summer, the fountain was still dry.  Even though, as one letter writer observed, the reservoir on High Street was known to overflow.  “The poor struggling Water Company can’t even let a little of this ‘waste’ flow into the Nathan Hale Memorial Fountain, so at least the horses and dogs can quench their thirst during the hot summer months.”

At some point, the water trough was removed.  With the advent of the automobile, there weren’t as many horses around needing a drink (one local historian said that in later years the water trough was used more for cleaning out radiators than for quenching a horse’s thirst, but that account may be apocryphal).  The trough also took up a parking space–a valuable commodity even then.  The date the trough was removed has not been found.  A photograph of the monument sans trough includes cars from the late 1920s.

Postcard from the late 1920s

Postcard showing a 1926-27 Ford Model T and the modified memorial.


The monument without the water trough. Note the new bronze plaque replaced not only the marble tablet but the dolphin water spout.

This close-up from the picture above shows the monument without the water trough. Note the new bronze plaque replaced not only the marble tablet but the dolphin water spout.  The light fixtures have also been changed.

In 1954, the State undertook a project to reconstruct Route 25A, Main Street, from Cold Spring Harbor to Fort Salonga.  In Huntington village, the project required that the monument be moved from its original location.  At first the State was going to move the monument back from the street and slightly to the east, but eventually moved it to the west instead.  The construction plans for the project detail the memorial, but with the light fixtures hanging down rather than up, and indicates the “assumed location of light service,” i.e. the location of the electric lines supplying power to the light fixtures.

The comment quoted above led not only to further research (and this post), but also led me to ask the Town’s Department of General Services to see whether the lights could be turned on.  Recent work by Brian Breyersdorf, an electrician in the Town’s Department of General Services, revealed that wiring had been run through the monument and left coiled up buried in the ground next to the base of the monument.  The lights have not worked because they were never plugged in after the monument was moved in 1954!  Mr. Breyersdorf installed a junction box to connect the wire in the memorial to new wire from a nearby light pole. And now the memorial has regained at least part of its original embellishments.  On December 22, 2015, the lights, now with L.E.D. bulbs, shone brightly for the first time since the monument was moved. It is doubtful the water trough will ever be re-established.

There has been one other change to the monument that is not as obvious as missing water troughs and non-functioning lights.  The original marble tablet and the bronze replacement from 1912-13 asserted that Nathan Hale was captured on “the shores of Huntington bay.”  Today, the bronze plaque says he was captured “on the shores of Long Island.”  It is unclear when this change was made.  The controversy about Hale’s place of capture, however, is an old one.

The revised wording

The revised wording

As early as the 1890s, historians questioned the assertion that Hale had been captured in Huntington.  But those naysayers didn’t deter Huntingtonians from dedicating two memorials.  A book published by Henry Johnston in 1901 and revised in 1914 also questions Huntington as the place of Hale’s arrest.  The issue seems to have been forgotten or ignored until 1933 when the Huntington Historical Society revisited the issue.  In the first three months of that year, Mrs. Warren P. Kortright, Mrs. George P. Kuzmier, and Mrs. George Taylor presented papers on the life of Nathan Hale.  A small book of their research was published in April.  The historical society did not offer a definite opinion on where Hale had been captured, but did question the veracity of the sources traditionally cited in support of a Huntington capture.

Town Historian Romanah Sammis then took up the issue, urging the Town Board to correct the mistakes of the past.  As is usually the case in these situations, the party arguing for a change from the accepted story has the burden of proof.  A committee appointed by the Town Board found that Mrs. Sammis had not met the burden of proof required to overturn long accepted story that Hale had been captured in Huntington.

More recent scholarship continues to doubt the Huntington version.  For example the recently published Washington’s Spies: The Story of America’s First Spy Ring, by Alexander Rose asserts that Hale was captured closer to Manhattan.  Another, less scholarly book, The Life and Death of America’s First Spy: Nathan Hale, by M. Williams Phelps argues that Hale was indeed captured in Huntington.  Interestingly, both books rely on a recently discovered manuscript donated to the Library of Congress in 2000.  The manuscript is an account of the Revolution written during the war by Consider Tiffany, a Connecticut merchant and Tory.  Tiffany describes Hale’s capture by Major Robert Rogers. British naval records indicate that Rogers went ashore at Sands Point just three days before Hale was captured.  It is, therefore, most likely that Hale was captured by Rogers closer to Flushing then to Huntington.

The truth of the matter may never be known with certainty.   Perhaps for that reason,  someone decided to hedge things by changing the wording on the bronze tablet from “on the shores of Huntington bay” to “on the shores of Long Island.”  While I have found nothing in the files to indicate when or who made the change, it must be noted that the bronze tablet with the revised wording includes two medallions cast during the Bicentennial.  The moving force behind those medallions?  None other than former Town Historian Rufus Langhans.  Historian Richard Welch confirms that Mr. Langhans told him that he had the wording changed.






Although  we will celebrate the centennial of the opening of Huntington Hospital in 2016, it could be said that the first hospital in town dates to 1771 when Huntingtonians were in a panic about inoculations against small pox. Unlike the vaccine developed by Dr. Jenner in 1796, which used cowpox to build immunity from smallpox, inoculations involved exposure to smallpox itself and were not always administered by a doctor, often with fatal results. In 1771, Huntingtonians imposed stringent restrictions on inoculations. Only Dr. Potter and Dr. Wiggins were allowed to administer inoculations; and they could only do so at a house set aside for that purpose. Dr. Potter’s house was in Cold Spring Harbor. Dr. Wiggin’s house was on the east side of Park Avenue south of the Town Common.

A few decades later, in 1855, the property that Dr. Wiggin’s used for his smallpox “hospital” was purchased by Rufus Prime. Mr. Prime was a retired New York City merchant and banker, whose children, Temple and Cornelia, became the most generous philanthropists of early twentieth century Huntington. Their donations helped finance the building of the Soldiers & Sailors Memorial Building, which housed the first library in town; Huntington’s first Town Hall; St. John’s Church on Main Street; Grace Chapel in Huntington Station; and the Trade School building (currently being restored and expanded to hold the Historical Society’s archives).

The philanthropic gift Miss Prime is most remembered for is her donation of a new hospital for Huntington in 1914. The story starts at least ten years earlier. As early as 1904, there was talk in town of the need for a hospital—at the time the closest hospital was in Mineola. A stranger visiting town heard the talk and made an unsolicited donation of $2, which was deposited in the Bank of Huntington in the hope that it “will, like the snowball, . . . be gradually rolled up to a sum large enough to warrant the renting of a house to be used for one of the great needs of our rapidly increasing population.”[1]

After several false starts, the effort was begun in earnest in 1911 with a meeting held at the Trade School building. It was noted, “Similar moves have been made in the past, with no results, and representative business men are inclined to doubt the practicability of a hospital here.”[2]   Mrs. Roland Conklin of Rosemary Farm (now the site of the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception in Lloyd Harbor) was selected as chair of the committee appointed by the Huntington Association (a forerunner of the Chamber of Commerce) to explore the idea. The initial fund raising event was also the biggest society event of the summer 1911 season. Mrs. Conklin and her committee of 16 other prominent women arranged a performance of Shakespeare’s “As You Like It” at the outdoor amphitheater at Rosemary Farm on August 19. More than 1,500 people, including former president Theodore Roosevelt, William K. Vanderbilt, Jr., Secretary of War Henry Stimson, and New York Mayor William J. Gaynor attended the well-received performance.

Three days later, at another meeting held at the Trade School, the committee reported that the play at Rosemary Farm netted $2,000. Willard Baylis estimated the cost to purchase land and construct a new hospital building would be $15,000. Mr. Baylis also made a motion to appoint a committee of 25 citizens, including the women who had previously been appointed by the Huntington Association, to solicit funds for the project. The eight new members of the committee were men. It was thought that constructing a new building was preferable to refitting an existing building and that the hospital should be located on high ground, near the village and the railroad station.[3]

Soon the residents of Northport expressed support for the plan to build a new hospital. They argued it should be located near the train station so that it would be accessible for patients from communities to the east and would be convenient for doctors from those communities to get to the hospital to visit their patients.[4]

Father York, pastor of St Patrick’s Church offered the use of the St. Patrick’s Parish House on Main Street for a hospital. While the 17 women on the committee—only one of whom was Catholic—were inclined to accept the offer, opposition arose because it was felt that using the Catholic Parish House would render the hospital sectarian in nature. Fr. York relented and agreed that purchasing a new site would be preferable. He added that if the committee could not secure sufficient funding for a new site, his offer would stand for five years.[5]

The enthusiasm for the hospital manifest in 1911 seems to have petered out. Three years later, there were two hospital funds totaling about $4,000.[6] Perhaps frustrated by the failure to meet the fund raising goal the committee had set for itself, one local resident took matters into her own hands. Lucie Winkworth, a nurse from England who had been with her husband during the Boer War in South Africa, rented a house on what is now the southwest corner of New and Carver Streets from Henry S. Brush and converted it into the Winkworth Cottage Hospital. The nine-bed hospital admitted its first patient on May 7, 1914. Mrs. Winkworth, a 39 year old widow, had trained as a nurse at Guy’s Hospital in London.  In addition to her time in South Africa, she worked as a nurse for two years in Peru and another year in Canada.[7] She was described as a “comely little matron” who was “a very charming, clever and bright conversationalist and a woman whose whole heart is wrapped up in her work.”[8]

Mrs. Winkworth’s hospital was a private endeavor; the weekly cost ranged from $20 for a private room to $12.50 for a bed in the ward. Doctor’s fees and drugs were extra.[9]  Even though it was a private venture, Mrs. Winkworth did not turn patients away. She treated the indigent as well as paying customers. The Town would reimburse the hospital for caring for the poor. But the sum provided was not as much as the expense incurred by the hospital. Mrs. Winkworth made up the difference out of her own funds. In its first six months of operation, the small cottage hospital treated 98 patients, many of whom were accident victims.[10]

The Long-Islander newspaper was soon suggesting that the fund raising for a hospital be resumed and that the new hospital be put in the care of Mrs. Winkworth. Or the funds already on hand could be used to purchase the house that Mrs. Winkworth was renting for her cottage hospital.[11]

Perhaps spurred on by the success of the Winkworth Hospital, the task of raising funds for a new hospital were renewed in the fall of 1914. Looking back years later, the Rev Charles E. Cragg, who led the dedication of the Winkworth Hospital, noted that though it was a valiant effort, Mrs. Winkworth’s hospital was inadequate to the task. However, “the attempt showed the great need of a real up-to-date and well-equipped hospital in our town, and moved to action the actual founder and builder” of today’s Huntington Hospital.[12]

In September 1914, John Fleet Wood led the effort to resurrect the fund raising campaign for a public hospital. Citing the large number of accidents in town, the plan was to build an emergency hospital at first and later expand it to include all cases.[13] The most contentious issue became where to locate the new hospital. More than half a dozen sites were under consideration. Dr. Gibson favored a site on Cold Spring Hill. Other doctors objected, noting that the site was up a steep hill and that the roads in the vicinity were in poor condition. Another potential location was the Alonzo Buffett property on the east side of Woodhull Road near Nassau Road. This property had the advantage of being near the railroad, but not too far from the village. The disadvantage was that it was near the noisy Liederkranz Hall. Sentiment seemed to shift in favor of the Buffett property in Huntington Station, especially when the residents of Cold Spring Hill voiced their opposition to a hospital in their neighborhood.[14]

The issue was finally settled by Cornelia Prime, who had been on the fund raising committee since 1911. Miss Prime decided where the hospital would be when she purchased a five-acre site on Park Avenue in December 1914: “the donor saw the Scudder property, which appealed to her, purchased it and then announced that it was the hospital site.”[15]  The property had been one of 7 or 8 sites considered by the hospital committee. The property featured a two story concrete house with six rooms and a bath as well as a garage, barn and workshop. Miss Prime paid $17,000 for the property and committed another $3,000 to convert the house for hospital use.[16] However, it was soon decided that a new building should be erected. By the next summer, the new 32’ x 70’ brick and limestone building was under construction. The concrete house on the property would be used as administrative offices. Miss Prime had agreed to underwrite the cost of construction.[17] The total gift, including the land purchase and construction of the new buildings, amounted to $75,000, the equivalent of $1.77 million today.

The house on the property and the new brick hospital building.

The house on the property and the new brick hospital building.

Miss Prime’s gift to Huntington was completed in time for Christmas 1915. In addition to the new two-story brick building, which was connected to the old house by a large passageway, the hospital campus included an isolation building for the treatment of contagious diseases and a garage big enough to accommodate two cars and a horse. Dr. Edward T.T. Marsh, head of the building committee, was instrumental in the construction of the building. Dr. Marsh was a native of New York City, who had served during the Civil War as a naval surgeon. He set up a medical practice in New York City and in 1870 married Alice Crossman of Huntington. He served as surgeon for the New York City Police Department and the 71st Regiment of the New York Militia until his retirement when he moved to the George Washington Scudder House at the intersection of Park Avenue and New York Avenue. He is credited with convincing Miss Prime to donate the funds for the hospital. In his obituary, it was noted, “The Huntington Hospital owes much, both to their generous gifts and also to the careful supervision of Dr. Marsh during the erection and for some years after it opened.” In addition to his medical works, Dr. Marsh was known as the King of Baseball in Huntington. He rescued the local team and served as its manager for many years.[18]

1916 Isolation Building (1)The first patient was admitted to the new hospital in February 1916. Miss Prime later led her friend, the Reverend Charles Cragg, to the top of her property on Park Avenue from where they could see the new hospital and said, “The desire of my heart is accomplished.”[19] Miss Prime died in 1923 and is remembered as one of Huntington’s greatest philanthropists.

With a new modern hospital under construction, Mrs. Winkworth closed her cottage hospital on New Street. She moved to Utica where she continued to work as a nurse. She died two years later after contracting typhoid fever while nursing a child.[20] It was noted that she “showed the need of a hospital in Huntington, and has in this way been instrumental in the establishment of the Huntington Hospital.”[21]


Hospital Association (1)

[1] The Long-Islander, July 29, 1904

[2] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, June 30, 1911

[3] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 23, 1911, page 5

[4] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 24, 1911

[5] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 17, 1911, page 6

[6] The Long-Islander, May 29, 1914.

[7] The Long-Islander, May 8, 1914, page 4

[8] The Long-Islander, July 31, 1914, page 5

[9] The Long-Islander, May 8, 1914, page 5

[10] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 26, 1914.

[11] The Long-Islander, May 29, 1914 and July 31, 1914

[12] The Long-Islander, August 5, 1927, page 19

[13] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, September 13, 1914

[14] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 6 and 17, 1914.

[15] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, December 26, 1915, page 5

[16] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, December 11, 1914, page 1

[17] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, July 30, 1915

[18] The Long-Islander, February 17, 1928

[19] The Long-Islander, August 5, 1927, page 19

[20] The Trained Nurse and Hospital Review, January 1917 (Lakeside Publishing Co., NY), page 312.

[21] The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, September 28, 1915