Brooklyn to Montauk Great American Railroad Journeys

I have crossed the Atlantic to ride the railroads of America

with a new travelling companion.

Published in 1879, my Appletons' General Guide

will steer me to everything that's novel, beautiful,

memorable or curious in the United States.

As I cross the continent, I'll discover

America's gilded age, when powerful tycoons launched

a railway boom that tied the nation together and carved

out its future as a superpower.

I'm continuing my American adventure through New York State where,

in Appleton's time, an industrial revolution was under way.

I began in Manhattan and I'll head north

towards Poughkeepsie and the state capital,

Albany.

I'll turn west to the Great Lakes, taking in Rochester

and Buffalo, and finish at the tourist hotspot

of Niagara Falls.

My journey through New York State continues on Long Island -

180 miles long, with a population of 8 million.

It hosts two of New York City's boroughs, Brooklyn and

Queens.

It was often the first sighting of the United States for immigrants

and, even today, air passengers survey its streets and houses

before landing at Kennedy Airport.

The Long Island Railroad daily ferries its commuters to the city

and, at weekends, carries the city's holiday-makers to its beaches.

On today's leg, I'll explore New York's

eastern boroughs, Brooklyn and Queens, before heading

north-east on the Long Island Railroad to the Gold

Coast, and then south-east to the Hamptons.

My final stop will be the island's most easterly tip,

Montauk.

Along the way, I'll see how tourists following my guidebook

enjoyed heady views.

People felt like they were flying with the birds, walking

across this bridge.

I'll discover how America's biggest infrastructure project is reshaping

both Manhattan and Long Island.

You were literally blasting.

We were literally blasting.

Wow.

And their martinis didn't even shake.

No, not like James Bond.

And I'll relive the fun and decadence of the roaring '20s.

Brooklyn, says Appletons', is the third-largest city

Brooklyn, says Appletons', is the third-largest city

in the United States.

That's before it was absorbed into New York to become one

of the conurbation's five boroughs.

But, if it were independent and on its own today,

it would still rank alongside all but the very largest

cities on earth.

By the 1860s, Brooklyn's population had swollen,

with huge numbers of immigrants from Europe.

Industry and commerce were booming.

Around a third of Brooklyn's working population

commuted across the East River to Manhattan, and ferries

were reaching capacity.

A long-term solution was needed and, in 1865, plans were put

forward to build a permanent link between the two cities.

The Brooklyn Bridge was under construction when my Appletons'

was published and it remarks that the massive towers

and ponderous cables are conspicuous objects.

The distance across the river is nearly 1600 feet,

affording space for two railroad tracks, four

wagonways and two footpaths.

With those colossal towers and being the

first steel suspension bridge in the world,

it was soon known as the eighth wonder of the world.

It's easy to see why.

The bridge, with its elegant steel cabling, suspended

against the 19th-century skyline, was an historic engineering

achievement.

I am meeting Brooklyn-born historian and tour guide Seth

Kamil under the now iconic structure.

Hello, Seth.

Michael, good to see you.

Welcome to Brooklyn.

Thank you very much, and what a very beautiful bridge.

What were the challenges in building it?

There were financial challenges, the fact the bridge cost more

than $12 million.

Technically, no one had ever built a suspension bridge with a centre

span of 1600 feet.

This is doubling anything that had come

before it.

It's built, I think, with granite towers.

How does it work beneath the water?

Beneath the water are wooden caissons, which are extremely large

boxes flipped upside down, about 100 feet by roughly 70 feet,

floated into place, sunk into the sand.

They pumped out the air, sent workers inside to dig

from inside to lower them while they build the granite towers

upwards at the same time.

A workforce of 600 built the bridge over 14 years,

starting in 1869.

The designer was John Augustus Roebling, a German

immigrant living in Pennsylvania.

Then 61 years old, he was a pioneer of suspension bridges.

But, while he was surveying the site, Roebling's

foot was crushed by a boat coming into dock.

Tetanus set in and, three weeks later, he died.

His son, Washington Roebling, took over the project

and saw his father's bridge as far as he could go until he,

too, was crippled in the process.

With John dead and Washington crippled,

who took over the work?

Washington's wife Emily Lauren Roebling finishes

the bridge.

In those days, a woman.

It's unbelievable.

This is nearly 50 years before an American woman has

the vote, and she begins by simply running messages from the office

in Brooklyn Heights to the job site.

But she is so intelligent and begins to understand the process so quickly

that she is able to make decisions on her own.

Construction was dangerous and two dozen workers lost

their lives.

But, on May the 24th, 1883, the great East River was spammed.

The brilliant design and scale of this piece of engineering

expressed America's growing self-confidence.

It was spectacular.

You had Emily Lauren Roebling leading the procession,

the President of the United States, the mayors of Brooklyn and Manhattan

meeting and shaking hands, a magnificent

fireworks display at sundown...

It was incredible, and memorable for decades.

It was spectacular.

The day it opened, 150,000 pedestrians and 1800 vehicles

crossed the bridge.

Within months, passengers on cable cars were

crossing for a 5 cents fare.

There were no aeroplanes, no tall buildings.

People felt like they were just flying with the birds,

walking across this bridge.

It's been called the eighth wonder of the world.

What do you say?

I live here and I think it should be the first

wonder of the world, but but I'll accept eight.

wonder of the world, but I'll accept eight.

The completion of the bridge and Brooklyn's rail links brought

even more immigrants to the borough which,

in 1898, had been incorporated into New York City.

Immigrants from northern, eastern and southern Europe made up

around a third of the newly amalgamated city.

Italians were one of the largest groups to settle in Brooklyn,

and their influence has left a lasting

culinary mark that I'm keen to experience.

Good evening, sir.

How are you?

I'm very well indeed. I was thinking of having a pizza.

I think you mean a pie.

A pie?

Yes.

OK.

Can I have just a piece or two of pie?

I think you mean a slice.

A slice?

Divided by a common language, eh?

OK.

I think I'll have a margarita pie.

You mean a pizza.

Do I?

I give up!

I'm kidding, it's a pie.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Coming right up.

This slice of pie is infinitely superior to a piece of pizza.

Today, I'm continuing my journey on the

Long Island Railroad in the borough of Queens.

Before tunnels were built to Manhattan Island in 1910,

Queens was the terminus of the railroad and

passengers crossed by ferry.

After the first branch of the Long Island

Railroad was opened in 1836, the mainly rural island was quickly

developed with suburbs.

Today, it's the busiest commuter railroad in America,

with over 700 miles of track.

It's also the site of an ambitious engineering project that

will transform New York City's rail network.

By one of the oddities of railroad history,

many commuters who come from Long Island, which lies

to the east of Manhattan, have to cross

all the way across the island to almost the Westside,

to Pennsylvania Central Station, and then, if their

jobs are in the business district back on the Eastside,

they have to make a subway journey, wasting time and money every day.

The solution is to put a station on the east side of Manhattan,

in fact, deep under Grand Central Terminal,

but that project involves creating a new tunnel

with eight tracks and building 11 miles

of tunnel and absolutely turning the system upside down.

It's said to be the biggest project in the United

States right now.

Doctor Michael Kyriacou is the chief engineer

at the Metropolitan Transportation

Authority and the man responsible for delivering the Eastside Access

scheme.

Michael, you are in charge of the biggest construction project

in the United States today.

What do you feel about that?

Well, humbled by the experience and lucky to be able to do that.

Michael is taking me to survey the ongoing works.

Hello. You must be Chris.

Yes, I am. How are you?

I'm Michael. Good to see you.

Pleasure to meet you.

Right here, basically, tunnel D will come

up to the right.

B-C will be built right here in the middle.

So, from GCT, you'll come out the ground right

here, and then you can see tunnel A will be on north side.

Four new tunnels will run from Queens on Long

Island straight to New York's Railway cathedral, Grand Central

Terminal, opening access to the Eastside of Manhattan.

What benefit will commuters see when it's all over?

The commuters from Long Island will see a reduction in travel time

of up to 40 minutes a day, and they will have a direct

shot without having to transfer into Grand Central.

The great thing about the construction of the terminal

is that no one knew we were there.

We've blasted away these huge caverns and people upstairs

were sipping wine in the restaurant

and they never knew we were down there.

You were literally blasting?

We were literally blasting.

Wow.

And their martinis didn't even shake.

No, not that James Bond would've liked it!

The extension is due to open in 2023 and is projected to cost

around $10 billion.

It will transform the working lives of

millions of New York commuters.

It's another example of how the city's

infrastructure is being revitalised after 9/11.

It represents a kind of renaissance for New York, doesn't it?

Yes, it does.

Without public transport, a city like New York,

cities like London cannot exist.

And that's something that...

I've been in London, I've seen the work being done there.

We're trying to keep up with you guys.

That's a very flattering way of putting it.

I'm impressed by this.

During the 19th century, trains increased the prosperity

of Long Island's workers, shuffling them daily

to and from New York City, but the railroads also

created fortunes beyond the comprehension of ordinary commuters.

You might think that the Gold Coast is in Australia, but there's one

here on Long Island.

Of course, not where gold was discovered, but where enormous

wealth was displayed, flaunted, squandered.

From Queens, it's a journey of just over an hour north-east to Cold

Spring Harbor, the nearest station to Oheka Castle.

Ha-ha!

This is Oheka Castle.

Unbelievably big, for what was once a private residence,

it has the look of a French chateaux, but it's

built on the foundations of a solid American fortune.

Completed in 1919 and costing the equivalent of $110

million in today's money, the castle was the private home

of banker and rail magnate Otto Kahn.

At the time, it was the second largest residence

Today, Oheka castle is a hotel and this historian Eunice is taking

me on a tour of these once exclusive grounds.

Which names were involved here? once exclusive grounds.

JP Morgan, Vanderbilt, Roosevelt, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor,

the Prince of Wales were all coming here

for the polo season and stay in their summers on Long Island.

When I think about this era and this

place, my thoughts are dominated by the parties.

Sure, F Scott Fitzgerald's novel The Great Gatsby

may have taken parties to a new level, but it really

was not an exaggeration of what was going on

here at the time.

I imagine the ponds here are probably clogged

with champagne corks.

Like many tycoons of the era, Kahn made much of his fortune

in the railroads.

This is Otto Kahn.

Otto Kahn was also known as the figure for Mr Monopoly.

Really?

Correct.

How did he make his money in the railroads?

He teamed up with great railroads giants of the time and he actually

would reorganise the facilities and make

them more streamlined and more profitable.

Was he a big party giver?

He was known for throwing parties.

There were men like Charlie Chaplin here, Douglas Fairbanks,

many industrialists of the day, so it was a home always filled.

What happened to be home after he died?

After Otto Kahn passed away in the 30s, his wife sold it

to the New York department of sanitation, which

renamed it Sanitia, and it became the weekend retreat and retirement

home for the New York City garbage men.

So, from riches to rags.

Correct.

Sensing the ghosts of the bankers and tycoons and the stars of stage

and screen, I decide to relive for a moment the heady decadence

of those years by taking to the dance floor.

Hello, Nancy.

Hello, Michael.

You look divine.

Thank you very much.

You are very handsome.

What a beautiful dress.

Thank you.

How does one do the Charleston?

OK, so, it's a very easy dance.

Forward on the left, and tap front with the right.

Right, right, left.

And swing the arms left, forward, right, forward.

I think you've got it.

Cue music.

CHARLESTON MUSIC PLAYS.

CHARLESTON MUSIC PLAYS.

It is a little fast.

Named after the city of Charleston in South

Carolina, the dance became one of the musical sensations

of the roaring 20s.

The mansions of the north once echoed to the Charleston

and popping champagne corks.

But, for me, the party is over.

On many a bright morning like this, Otto Kahn

must have surveyed his beautiful gardens and thought,

all that hard work amalgamating railroads, here I stand up

on the hill that I made, in the castle that I built,

and it was all worthwhile.

The wealthy tycoons of New York City are no longer drawn

to the north shore of Long Island.

And, while the elites of the past made their money in industry

and infrastructure, their counterparts

today are the so-called masters of the universe,

the bankers, traders and hedge fund managers who prowl

the canyons of Wall Street.

Their summer retreat lies some 75 miles

south-east in the Hamptons.

East Hampton, says Appletons', is the

quietest of all quiet towns, with quaint, old houses.

Its old world charm is seduced many a broker,

derivatives trader and venture capitalist.

I may not meet many of them on the Long Island Railroad,

but their helicopters are much in evidence.

East Hampton and its sister village of South Hampton was almost entirely

undeveloped until the arrival of the railroad in 1895.

Today, the permanent population of the count is around

21,000 but, in summer, that swells to over 70,000.

East Hampton is extraordinarily clean and tidy, very

well-kept, manicured, you might say.

I'm meeting Diana from the Ladies Village Improvement Society,

founded in 1895.

She's invited me to one of the thrift stores,

where they raise funds for the preservation of the town.

What brought about the foundation of the Ladies Village

Improvement Society?

One of the issues in the 1890s was unpaved

streets.

There was a lot of dust any time a cart or the early automobiles

would drive by.

The LVIS felt their mission was to sprinkle the street and keep

the dust down.

Once that was done, they just started

beautifying east Hampton.

Today, as well as preserving East Hampton's

history, the LVIS funds student scholarships,

including one for a woman over 25 years old returning

to higher education.

What it's like to live in East Hampton?

Well, it has a bit of a roller-coaster feel,

because things are nonstop between June and September,

but then it quietens down.

I guess people outside might have the impression of East Hampton

has been populated with the wolves of Wall Street.

Right.

Would that be inaccurate?

No.

It's not inaccurate.

I just feel that the Women's Village Improvement Society

is about as far from the wolves of Wall Street as I can imagine.

I think there is definitely a sense of

trying to maintain the historical character and the natural beauty,

and the LVIS is one of those groups who just want to keep it in the way

it is, and that's why they work so hard.

15 miles and two stops further east from the pristine Hamptons,

the Montauk branch of the Long Island

Railroad reaches its terminus.

Montauk Point, Appletons' tells me, is the eastern extremity of Long

Island.

On it is a lighthouse with a powerful revolving light.

The village of Montauk, which clings limpet like to be tip

of Long Island, is popularly nicknamed "The End".

We've reached the end of the line and the end of the island.

We've reached the end of the line and the end of the island.

There is nothing beyond.

And so we crawl gently to a halt.

Montauk is a fishing and surfing town.

Like the Hamptons, it's a popular weekend

getaway, but it prides itself on being more rustic than chic.

Its lighthouse, the first built in New

York State, stands guard over treacherous waters.

Henry Osmus, local historian and author,

can explain its significance.

Henry, such a beautiful lighthouse.

What is its importance in history?

Well, when it was built in 1796, the purpose of it was to guide ships

safely from England and France to New York City.

Prior to that being built, there had been no lighthouses

on Long Island at all, so it became very difficult

for ships navigating these waters.

And so it came to the years of president George Washington

and authorisation was passed to build the lighthouse.

Did it do a good job?

It did.

Apparently the number of ships which had mishaps

dropped dramatically, so this lighthouse did its job very well.

For the many new arrivals, who hoped to settle in America,

this light was their first glimpse of their new

home.

And, if one man's vision had prevailed, Montauk rather

than New York City might have been where they

first set foot in the New World.

There was a gentleman named Austin Corbin,

who was the president of the Long Island Railroad

from the early 1880s until the mid-1890s.

He had a dream of creating a port of entry in Montauk.

It was going to be a docking place for transatlantic

steamers, and they would continue the journey to New York

by his railroad line and save about five or six hours

in travel time.

This idea sounded outlandish to some, but he extended his

railroad to Montauk in December 1895, and the first

passenger train officially rolled into Montauk on December 17th.

But, only six months after that first

train came into Montauk, Austin Corbin was dead,

killed in a freak accident.

Unfortunately, there was no one else with the drive and stamina

that he had for this project.

So, officially, by 1900, the idea was considered dead.

And the dream?

The dream went with him.

Had Austin Corbin's plan succeeded, Montauk would have become one

of the world's busiest ports.

As it is, it's been left with extraordinary

serenity.

Americans have often thought of themselves as exceptional.

The city on the hill, a new Jerusalem, a country

with a manifest destiny.

The perfect natural harbour of New York, with the East River

protectively flanked by Brooklyn, must have seemed

like a gift from God.

And following that logic the beauty of Long Island's

surf and beaches would merely confirm the limitless blessings

heaped upon this land and its people.

Next time, I'm spooked by a famous American ghost story.

Next time, I'm spooked by a famous American ghost story.

This sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow.

I hear a new take on America's greatest turncoat.

You think that Benedict Arnold was actually an American

revolutionary hero?

He was, absolutely.

Before learning how the American Civil War divided

the nation.

Not only is it father against son and brother against brother,

but it's classmate against classmate.