privy digging Goodbye to Cranberry nasa

ANOTHER "GREAT BOTTLE DIGGING STORY" FROM THE PAGES OF

ANTIQUE BOTTLE AND GLASS COLLECTOR MAGAZINE

THE MAGAZINE OF THE ANTIQUE BOTTLE COLLECTING HOBBY

Seems like we've been bottle digging on Cranberry Street forever. Over the course of about a year three privies (or "pits" as we like to refer to them here in the Northeast) and two cisterns have bit the "privy digging dust".

Our latest dig was courtesy of some curious neighbors, who became interested while we were still digging the second of two pits and cisterns, at our friend Danny's next door.

The house we dug behind Cranberry Street was the home of a young lawyer and his family. Everything but the facade was undergoing major renovations, so the backyard was a mess. Perfect for a bunch of bottle diggers.

That big old stump at number sixty-eight Cranberry didn't give us half the trouble we anticipated, but the large birch tree in the yard we had just gotten permission to dig worried us. Although this time we didn't have the luxury of doing some probing in the yard before hand; it looked as if this pit was also going to involve the tree. This time, however, more than a dead stump was involved, the tree was still alive, and the owners didn't want it disturbed. So the plan was simple, start digging, and if too much of the tree's roots were in the pit, we'd have to walk away from this one. A heartbreaking thought I know, but there was no alternative. So with the possibility of not being able to complete the job we scheduled a day to begin digging.

Like the house we had just finished, this one also dated from the early 1850's, and as luck would have it, was scheduled for some major renovations in the immediate future. With the owners just about ready to move out temporarily so construction could begin, it was just a matter of coordinating a time and place with the owners and their workers.

Finally, after several months wait, and almost a year since we first dug the old Beecher house at number sixty-six Cranberry, things were looking good for the last weekend of October. Since none of us had really dug anything since finishing up the cistern next door (back in May), I guess you could say we were a little fired up, even if it meant we'd have to stop digging because of a tree.

The ground surrounding the general area where we thought the pit would be was pretty loose, so the probe sank right in. After bouncing off a tree root or two the probe finally hit what we thought was a back stone wall. Judging from the distance left above the ground on the four-foot probe, whatever we were hitting wasn't that far below the surface. Now the big question was, was it a privy wall or just a bunch of isolated rocks? The only way to know for sure was to open up more of the hole, so we could get a better look.

The "we" were the usual - myself, Richie, Mitch, Jack, and his son, Eric. The general feeling was that Jack had indeed hit something solid, and once enough dirt was removed we'd begin to see the wall. Like I said, the dirt was real loose, so it wasn't long before a second and third layer of stone became visible. Located to far away from the house to be anything other than a privy wall, it soon became apparent that we nailed the back wall of the pit!

Below the soil line the pit was loaded with old building rubble. Most of the debris was in a kind of pulverized state, but enough remained, so you could tell it was from some kind of construction of demolition project long ago. Other than a small aqua colored bottle, there was nothing else for the next six feet. As for the tree, we lucked out again missing most of the major root system by about a foot or so!

With nothing much happening as of yet, Mitch and I decided to go follow up on another digging prospect. This one came about as a result of a phone call I received from a woman who had found some bottles in the basement of her childhood home, over in the Fort Greene section, of Brooklyn. Although the bottles turned out to be nothing much, we did manage to convince her to let us look in the backyard. Anticipating we might get permission to dig, I brought along some digging pictures and a few older bottles. As it turned out, she no longer lived in the city, and was selling the house in the near future. When she told us the house dated from 1852, well, you could imagine what Mitch and I were thinking! Although the bottles in the basement turned out to be a bust, we did get permission to dig, before the sale of the house is complete. Hey, you have to check and follow every lead, no matter how it sounds at first. If we did anything worth while you'll certainly hear about it.

Now back to Brooklyn Heights, to see how the guys were doing over on Cranberry Street. With the last of the rubble coming up, the shovel was finally tipping into a much darker layer. Although we now had a few more medicine type bottles with some rolled and flared lips, there was nothing embossed as of yet. Hopefully, this was a positive sign of better things to come.

The first few buckets of dark dirt showed definite signs of the daily life of the house's former occupants - a small blue button, pipe bowls and stems, and an 1857 Flying Eagle penny. Thanks to Mitch's impromptu sifting techniques, using an old metal grate,

the penny would have escaped our sight. What else lay below our feet, we could only guess.

Being Rich had recently had surgery on his knee; he had not been down in any of the pits we'd been digging, so he was the first to dig into the seam. A good test to see how the knee and leg would hold up. After several minutes us guys up top could hear that all to familiar sound of broken glass being moved around. Suddenly, all eyes were focussed on the digging bucket, as it made it's way down. It sounded as if nothing was whole, so we asked what was happening.

That's me clowning around with one of the two coconuts to come out of the pit. With conch shells, fish bones, and turtle shells, this pits contents were somewhat exotic. "You never know what your going to find".

Without saying a word Rich motioned for Eric to pull the bucket up. A few quick pulls of the rope revealed absolutely nothing at all! A disappointing start, I know, but not for long.

The first few bottles of any consequence were: Wells, Miller & Provost, peppersauce and an open pontil medicine embossed - Dr. J.C. Rose. Not to shabby for early on in the pit. Now that each bucket of dirt was showing some promise, whoever was dumping did so slowly, in case anything good was inside. As it turned out, we didn't have to wait to long for the unexpected - a half-pint cornucopia flask in a petty aquamarine. "Hey, Rich, you sent up a flask in that bucket full," I yelled down. Although it was a little damaged on the neck, and is common, you sure don't find these types of flasks in privies very often.

It was now around midday, and there was still a lot of dirt left to dig. Was it going to be as productive as the two pits next door? The answer to our question would have to wait at least a few more hours.

The digging tarps surrounding the pit were now completely covered with dirt. With shards of tableware and glass continually cascading down the sides of each mound with every bucket dumped, our eyes were ready for anything.

This pit was kind of unusual in that there was a lot more fish bones and strange looking vertebrae also coming up. Add to this, several large conch shells, a petrified sand dollar, two coconuts; and the remains of a tortoise shell; and we had a digger's mystery on our hands! You couldn't help but wonder what the house's original inhabitant's connection with the sea was, or how such exotic things finally come to rest in the bottom of a privy in downtown Brooklyn. Unfortunately, these were

questions filled with speculative answers, and a little beyond the realm of bottle collecting and and digging. So it was back to the task at hand, keeping a sharp lookout for the unexpected, and finishing up the pit.

By now it was time for a changing of the guard, so Eric took Rich's place below. Working just about dead center, the first bottle he unearthed looked to be just like most of the other unembossed medicines we had so far. "Don't look at it throw it in the bucket," Jack told Eric. Like any good father and son digging team, naturally, he ignored his father's request, and took a look at the bottle anyway. A quick swipe across the front revealed nothing, but Eric said it was embossed on the sides. "It's a Shaker medicine," Erick yelled up. Now that it officially passed the "Eric Fortmeyer" inspection check, up it came for a closer look. About seven inches tall, open pontil, it was embossed - Shaker's No 1 Syrup, from Canterbury, New Hampshire. A nice find, the bottle was undamaged.

A closer look at some of the "stuff". A Rockingham bowl, Brown Stout, Peppersauce, and a broken figurine, along with a few pip stems and marbles.

Naturally all the bottles with some great color to them were broken, almost beyond recognition. The list of casualties included: a nice little cobalt cologne, a cornflower blue soda from Manhattan, and what appeared to be, an amber looking case gin. Totals thus far - not too much, only about twelve bottles that weren't damaged. Although we had a few nice bottles so far, this pit wasn't shaping up to be nearly as good, as the two next door.

Estimates to the bottom were another couple of feet, so down I went to try and finish things off. With only a minimal amount of stuff to show for our efforts, we hoped what remained would make up for the lack of bottles.

The old Yogi Berra saying, "It ain't over till it's over," seemed fitting, and reminded me of a pit many years ago that Rich was involved with. That pit was similar in that there wasn't a whole lot of bottles either. However, what finally made it worth while was what he uncovered in the final shovel full of dirt - a cobalt blue open pontil umbrella ink!

I was hoping I'd have a similar experience, I mean, it didn't have to be an ink, just a few more bottles, so everyone would go home a bit happier. Working towards a bit of a shadow, I saw what appeared to be two cylindrical looking bases of two bottles, neatly tucked into the small shelf of dirt we established. One definitely was a green soda, the other, some kind of black glass.

The soda looking bottle actually turned out to be a brown stout, and the other, a dark green olive oil seal bottle, was unfortunately broken. A few more passes of the hand rake revealed little else. About the only other thing worth mentioning was an open pontil, Batchelor's Hair Dye, right up against the wall, at the bottom. Now for the long fill job. As things go, not the most productive of privies, but few more bottles, that might have never again seen the light of day.

The permission I mentioned earlier had to be done A.S.A.P., and was scheduled for the following week. Hope it's a good one....

Did you enjoy this digging story? Every month Antique Bottle and Glass Collector magazine gives you neat digging stories like this one.