Coney Island History: How 'West Brighton' became 'Coney Island'
Introduction: The Rise of Coney Island as a Seaside Resort (1860-1900)
Today, people associate 'Coney Island’ with the amusements area around Surf Avenue and West 12th Street. This area, once known as West Brighton, is home to the Cyclone roller coaster, the Wonder Wheel, and other amusement rides. The rest of Coney Island, which includes Sea Gate to the west and both the Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach neighborhoods to the east, are residential areas.
In the early 1880s, however, Coney Island was just a sleepy farming community that had, almost overnight, transformed into a seaside resort destination. The entire 'island' was now filling up with hotels, music venues, restaurants, and private bathing houses that controlled certain sections of the beach.
At the time, several major investors and railroad companies had recently bought up large chunks of land at Coney Island. They then had spent millions of dollars building beautiful resorts on their properties, along with private railroads leading to them from Brooklyn. These three adjacent resorts - Brighton Beach, Manhattan Beach and West Brighton - would remain locked in a fierce battle for several decades.
The Brighton Beach resort was just east of West Brighton. It was developed by a wealthy businessman named William Engeman, who teamed up with the Brooklyn, Flatbush and Coney Island Railroad. The primary attractions at Brighton Beach were the railroad company’s famous Brighton Beach Hotel, Engeman's Bathing Pavilion, the Brighton Beach Race Course and several other music, bathing and food venues. Brighton Beach tended to attract upper-middle class visitors.
The Manhattan Beach resort was just east of Brighton Beach, and even fancier. It boasted the luxurious Manhattan Beach Hotel and Oriental Hotel, offered concerts by renowned bands, and hosted the finest fireworks shows in the world. The Coney Island Jockey Club, a prominent social club, built a horse racing track adjacent to the Manhattan Beach Hotel. The Manhattan Beach resort was developed by a robber baron named Austin Corbin, who also ran several Brooklyn railroads. Manhattan Beach tended to attract wealthy people.
Lastly, there was the runt of the litter, our poor West Brighton. The amusement parks that would make West Brighton famous would not be built until around 1900. For now, scrappy little West Brighton did what it could. Two well-run railroad companies, one led by Andrew Culver and the other named the Sea Beach Company, developed the areas around their railroad terminals. They did not control all of the land at West Brighton, though, and other entrepreneurs set up businesses to serve mainly immigrant and working class clientele. It was a pleasant enough place, all things considered, but nothing like the deep-pocketed Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach. So what, if some riffraff from neighboring Norton's Point, that undesirable spot at the far-western end of Coney island, occasionally stumbled into West Brighton saloons? Constable John McKane could take care of them. Still, let's be honest. Most people hanging out in West Brighton were dreaming that, one day, they could save up enough to patron Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach.
This article is the comprehensive story of how West Brighton became 'Coney Island', and how it managed to eclipse both Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach between 1860 and 1920. It tells the stories of Andrew Culver, Paul Bauer, Charles Feltman and others who saw the potential of West Brighton and shaped its future. Another set of articles cover the iconic amusement parks that were built at West Brighton around 1900, namely Sea Lion Park, Steeplechase Park, Luna Park and Dreamland. By 1905, the term ‘Coney Island’ was largely synonymous with West Brighton and its amusement parks, an association that still endures to this day.
Today, people associate 'Coney Island’ with the amusements area around Surf Avenue and West 12th Street. This area, once known as West Brighton, is home to the Cyclone roller coaster, the Wonder Wheel, and other amusement rides. The rest of Coney Island, which includes Sea Gate to the west and both the Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach neighborhoods to the east, are residential areas.
In the early 1880s, however, Coney Island was just a sleepy farming community that had, almost overnight, transformed into a seaside resort destination. The entire 'island' was now filling up with hotels, music venues, restaurants, and private bathing houses that controlled certain sections of the beach.
At the time, several major investors and railroad companies had recently bought up large chunks of land at Coney Island. They then had spent millions of dollars building beautiful resorts on their properties, along with private railroads leading to them from Brooklyn. These three adjacent resorts - Brighton Beach, Manhattan Beach and West Brighton - would remain locked in a fierce battle for several decades.
The Brighton Beach resort was just east of West Brighton. It was developed by a wealthy businessman named William Engeman, who teamed up with the Brooklyn, Flatbush and Coney Island Railroad. The primary attractions at Brighton Beach were the railroad company’s famous Brighton Beach Hotel, Engeman's Bathing Pavilion, the Brighton Beach Race Course and several other music, bathing and food venues. Brighton Beach tended to attract upper-middle class visitors.
The Manhattan Beach resort was just east of Brighton Beach, and even fancier. It boasted the luxurious Manhattan Beach Hotel and Oriental Hotel, offered concerts by renowned bands, and hosted the finest fireworks shows in the world. The Coney Island Jockey Club, a prominent social club, built a horse racing track adjacent to the Manhattan Beach Hotel. The Manhattan Beach resort was developed by a robber baron named Austin Corbin, who also ran several Brooklyn railroads. Manhattan Beach tended to attract wealthy people.
Lastly, there was the runt of the litter, our poor West Brighton. The amusement parks that would make West Brighton famous would not be built until around 1900. For now, scrappy little West Brighton did what it could. Two well-run railroad companies, one led by Andrew Culver and the other named the Sea Beach Company, developed the areas around their railroad terminals. They did not control all of the land at West Brighton, though, and other entrepreneurs set up businesses to serve mainly immigrant and working class clientele. It was a pleasant enough place, all things considered, but nothing like the deep-pocketed Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach. So what, if some riffraff from neighboring Norton's Point, that undesirable spot at the far-western end of Coney island, occasionally stumbled into West Brighton saloons? Constable John McKane could take care of them. Still, let's be honest. Most people hanging out in West Brighton were dreaming that, one day, they could save up enough to patron Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach.
This article is the comprehensive story of how West Brighton became 'Coney Island', and how it managed to eclipse both Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach between 1860 and 1920. It tells the stories of Andrew Culver, Paul Bauer, Charles Feltman and others who saw the potential of West Brighton and shaped its future. Another set of articles cover the iconic amusement parks that were built at West Brighton around 1900, namely Sea Lion Park, Steeplechase Park, Luna Park and Dreamland. By 1905, the term ‘Coney Island’ was largely synonymous with West Brighton and its amusement parks, an association that still endures to this day.
Use these maps to follow the story below.

Coney Island’s First Railroad: Gunther’s ‘Dummy Line’ to West Brighton (1862)
The story of modern Coney Island can be traced back to a railroad construction boom that occurred shortly following the Civil War. Railroad companies at the time were scouring the northeast in search of desirable but undeveloped beachfront areas. Once they found a suitable location, they secured right-of-ways on which to lay track to it from a more populated area and purchased the beachfront property. The railroad companies also usually spruced up the beach terminal by building a nice hotel and plaza nearby, close to the water. Even though it required significant capital and a high degree of risk to vertically integrate like this, if the beach was a hit, the investment would pay off handsomely. The railroad would have a monopoly on transportation to the destination, capture all of the visitors’ spending on food and lodging, and also see its beachfront real estate appreciate significantly.
Coney Island already had a rather miserable little railroad ahead of the end of the Civil War. Built in 1862, it was officially called the Brooklyn, Bath, and Coney Island Railroad, but was better known as the ‘Gunther Line’ after its president, C. Godfrey Gunther. Its steam-powered locomotive that ran from a Bay Ridge pier to Bath Junction, then south through New Utrecht to Coney Island. Even though it was established primarily to collect agricultural and dairy products along the way for the New York markets, visitors coming from Manhattan used the Gunther Line during the summer bathing season to avoid the Norton's Point area at the western tip of Coney Island, which was filled with unsavory characters. The Gunther Line’s terminus was the Tivoli Hotel in West Brighton, which was in the vicinity of the present Stillwell and Surf Avenues. The Tivoli Hotel also had a restaurant. Further towards the beach were bathing facilities and a dance hall, owned by Gunther, and built by someone who later would come to run all of Coney Island, John Y. McKane.
The Gunther Line could have been a significant success and boon to the tourism business at West Brighton. Its only competition was a horse-car line that opened in 1860, traveling down Coney Island Road from Flatbush to what would become known as Brighton Beach. However, the Gunther Line trains, running at ground level, became involved in a number of accidents. The chugging locomotives and their shrieking whistles would cause frightened horses to bolt, overturning carriages. In New Utrecht, a regulation was enacted requiring a railroad employee to emerge from the train and walk in front of the slowly moving locomotive, ringing a bell, as the train passed through town. Onlookers laughed, passengers became irritated, and Gunther’s railroad earned the nickname, the ‘Dummy Line’. Coney Island’s development would have to wait over a decade, until a proper passenger railroad could bring crowds to the beach.
Ocean Parkway Attracts the Attention of Railroad Investors
After the Civil War, the wealthy residents of the city of Brooklyn used their political clout to have a spacious highway built from Prospect Park to the beach at Coney Island. At the time, there were only two roads to Coney Island's beaches, the Gravesend Road and the Coney Island Road. The former was a bit out of the way from the affluent sections of Brooklyn, while the latter was a horse-car line running along the middle of the road. Both sides of the rails were too rutted for a smooth ride and so they embarked on the new highway, to be built roughly midway between the existing roads. It was given the name of Ocean Boulevard, then changed to Ocean Parkway. It would be restricted to carriages and saddle-horses, with commercial and rail-traffic prohibited. Cinders, gravel, clay and a binder of tar were to ensure that the roadbed was not too hard on horses’ hooves, nor so soft for carriage wheels to sink in the mud.
The story of modern Coney Island can be traced back to a railroad construction boom that occurred shortly following the Civil War. Railroad companies at the time were scouring the northeast in search of desirable but undeveloped beachfront areas. Once they found a suitable location, they secured right-of-ways on which to lay track to it from a more populated area and purchased the beachfront property. The railroad companies also usually spruced up the beach terminal by building a nice hotel and plaza nearby, close to the water. Even though it required significant capital and a high degree of risk to vertically integrate like this, if the beach was a hit, the investment would pay off handsomely. The railroad would have a monopoly on transportation to the destination, capture all of the visitors’ spending on food and lodging, and also see its beachfront real estate appreciate significantly.
Coney Island already had a rather miserable little railroad ahead of the end of the Civil War. Built in 1862, it was officially called the Brooklyn, Bath, and Coney Island Railroad, but was better known as the ‘Gunther Line’ after its president, C. Godfrey Gunther. Its steam-powered locomotive that ran from a Bay Ridge pier to Bath Junction, then south through New Utrecht to Coney Island. Even though it was established primarily to collect agricultural and dairy products along the way for the New York markets, visitors coming from Manhattan used the Gunther Line during the summer bathing season to avoid the Norton's Point area at the western tip of Coney Island, which was filled with unsavory characters. The Gunther Line’s terminus was the Tivoli Hotel in West Brighton, which was in the vicinity of the present Stillwell and Surf Avenues. The Tivoli Hotel also had a restaurant. Further towards the beach were bathing facilities and a dance hall, owned by Gunther, and built by someone who later would come to run all of Coney Island, John Y. McKane.
The Gunther Line could have been a significant success and boon to the tourism business at West Brighton. Its only competition was a horse-car line that opened in 1860, traveling down Coney Island Road from Flatbush to what would become known as Brighton Beach. However, the Gunther Line trains, running at ground level, became involved in a number of accidents. The chugging locomotives and their shrieking whistles would cause frightened horses to bolt, overturning carriages. In New Utrecht, a regulation was enacted requiring a railroad employee to emerge from the train and walk in front of the slowly moving locomotive, ringing a bell, as the train passed through town. Onlookers laughed, passengers became irritated, and Gunther’s railroad earned the nickname, the ‘Dummy Line’. Coney Island’s development would have to wait over a decade, until a proper passenger railroad could bring crowds to the beach.
Ocean Parkway Attracts the Attention of Railroad Investors
After the Civil War, the wealthy residents of the city of Brooklyn used their political clout to have a spacious highway built from Prospect Park to the beach at Coney Island. At the time, there were only two roads to Coney Island's beaches, the Gravesend Road and the Coney Island Road. The former was a bit out of the way from the affluent sections of Brooklyn, while the latter was a horse-car line running along the middle of the road. Both sides of the rails were too rutted for a smooth ride and so they embarked on the new highway, to be built roughly midway between the existing roads. It was given the name of Ocean Boulevard, then changed to Ocean Parkway. It would be restricted to carriages and saddle-horses, with commercial and rail-traffic prohibited. Cinders, gravel, clay and a binder of tar were to ensure that the roadbed was not too hard on horses’ hooves, nor so soft for carriage wheels to sink in the mud.

Culver builds the Prospect Park & Coney Island Railroad to West Brighton (1875)
Railroad tycoons and financiers learned of the plans for Ocean Parkway. Seeking ways to invest the fortunes they had made during the Civil War, they began toying with the notion that the beach area might be turned into a posh summer resort, like Saratoga, replete with race courses, plush hotels and elegant restaurants. When construction began of steel railroad bridges across Coney Island Creek at West 6th and West 8th Streets, and two others further east in the Middle Division and the Sedge Bank, it became obvious that Coney Island was about to have a major face-lift. Gunther's Dummy Line was due for some stiff competition.
Andrew Culver completed the Prospect Park and Coney Island Railroad to the West Brighton in 1875. It was commonly known as the Culver Line. Culver headed a syndicate that purchased franchises to build railroads from Brooklyn to Coney Island. The Culver Line had one branch running from the Bay Ridge Pier, the other from Prospect Park.
Culver caused quite a stir when his construction crews tore up Gravesend Avenue to lay rail. It had just been paved with a coat of smooth tar, and the local property owners had been assessed for the expense, as they stood to benefit the most from its improvement. Indignant residents demanded reimbursement, asking what benefit they would derive from the smoke-belching, roaring, iron monsters pounding by, destroying their peace and quiet. Politicians solemnly removed their hats, placed them over their hearts, observed a respectful minute of silence, and winked at Culver. In later years, when the Culver Line became part of the Brooklyn Rapid Transit system, an elevated railway was built along this avenue.
Culver Plaza North (1875)
Culver established a vibrant and welcoming plaza in West Brighton to attract visitors. Known as Culver Plaza, it was situated next to a terminal he built in a large vacant area between West 5th and West 6th Streets, into which both branches of the Culver Line ran south along Gravesend Avenue.
Railroad tycoons and financiers learned of the plans for Ocean Parkway. Seeking ways to invest the fortunes they had made during the Civil War, they began toying with the notion that the beach area might be turned into a posh summer resort, like Saratoga, replete with race courses, plush hotels and elegant restaurants. When construction began of steel railroad bridges across Coney Island Creek at West 6th and West 8th Streets, and two others further east in the Middle Division and the Sedge Bank, it became obvious that Coney Island was about to have a major face-lift. Gunther's Dummy Line was due for some stiff competition.
Andrew Culver completed the Prospect Park and Coney Island Railroad to the West Brighton in 1875. It was commonly known as the Culver Line. Culver headed a syndicate that purchased franchises to build railroads from Brooklyn to Coney Island. The Culver Line had one branch running from the Bay Ridge Pier, the other from Prospect Park.
Culver caused quite a stir when his construction crews tore up Gravesend Avenue to lay rail. It had just been paved with a coat of smooth tar, and the local property owners had been assessed for the expense, as they stood to benefit the most from its improvement. Indignant residents demanded reimbursement, asking what benefit they would derive from the smoke-belching, roaring, iron monsters pounding by, destroying their peace and quiet. Politicians solemnly removed their hats, placed them over their hearts, observed a respectful minute of silence, and winked at Culver. In later years, when the Culver Line became part of the Brooklyn Rapid Transit system, an elevated railway was built along this avenue.
Culver Plaza North (1875)
Culver established a vibrant and welcoming plaza in West Brighton to attract visitors. Known as Culver Plaza, it was situated next to a terminal he built in a large vacant area between West 5th and West 6th Streets, into which both branches of the Culver Line ran south along Gravesend Avenue.

Culver Plaza North was separated from Culver Plaza South by Surf Avenue, which at the time was known as the Concourse. Initially, only Culver Plaza North was developed. It was bounded by the railroad depot at its northern end, by Cable’s Hotel on the western side, and by Vanderveer’s Hotel and Chamberlain’s Grand Union Hotel along the eastern side at West 5th Street. Culver Plaza North was decorated with urns, fountains and flower beds. It also had refreshment kiosks, a small variety theater named the Elliott, and an enclosure for a camera obscura. The latter was a popular and clever device that used numerous mirrors to project real-time images of people and places from the beach and other outdoor areas onto a concave screen in a darkened room, almost like a movie.
Culver relied in particular on Thomas Cable’s prior experience in running a hotel at Coney Island to make the plaza a success. While Culver's railroad was still in its planning stage, Culver had consulted Cable about the viability of opening a hotel in the plaza. Cable knew that hotels at Coney Island were tricky because of the seasonality and limited number of visitors at this time, but thought he could make it work with Culver’s railroad traffic. Cable accepted a lease from Culver at a very reasonable rate on a hotel that Culver built for him. Cable’s Hotel opened for business well before the railroad did. Only men were permitted to stay at the hotel, but women and children were welcome to dine in its restaurant. Cable seemed to have in mind an English-style gentlemen's club, in which they could drink their whiskies and soda, smoke their cigars, read their newspapers, and discuss business, politics, sports, and show girls. Cable was also said to have had the best wine cellar in Coney Island.
Cable's Hotel ended up being a hit in its first season, and its restaurant were filled to capacity. In front of Cable’s Hotel, in the plaza, were a bandstand and benches that Cable’s installed to provide general entertainment for visitors to Culver Plaza North. People coming off Culver's trains were entertained by Downing's 9th Regimental Band, and the aroma of savory dishes coming from the dining room had crowds waiting on line to enter.
Culver relied in particular on Thomas Cable’s prior experience in running a hotel at Coney Island to make the plaza a success. While Culver's railroad was still in its planning stage, Culver had consulted Cable about the viability of opening a hotel in the plaza. Cable knew that hotels at Coney Island were tricky because of the seasonality and limited number of visitors at this time, but thought he could make it work with Culver’s railroad traffic. Cable accepted a lease from Culver at a very reasonable rate on a hotel that Culver built for him. Cable’s Hotel opened for business well before the railroad did. Only men were permitted to stay at the hotel, but women and children were welcome to dine in its restaurant. Cable seemed to have in mind an English-style gentlemen's club, in which they could drink their whiskies and soda, smoke their cigars, read their newspapers, and discuss business, politics, sports, and show girls. Cable was also said to have had the best wine cellar in Coney Island.
Cable's Hotel ended up being a hit in its first season, and its restaurant were filled to capacity. In front of Cable’s Hotel, in the plaza, were a bandstand and benches that Cable’s installed to provide general entertainment for visitors to Culver Plaza North. People coming off Culver's trains were entertained by Downing's 9th Regimental Band, and the aroma of savory dishes coming from the dining room had crowds waiting on line to enter.

Culver Plaza South and Iron Tower Observatory (1876)
At the end of the following season, Culver decided to make some significant changes to Culver Plaza. Overall, Culver felt that his railroad depot was too far from the Concourse, which was the area’s main thoroughfare, and much too far from the beach. So, he tore up Culver Plaza North and moved the heart of it to Culver Plaza South, which was on the beach side of the Concourse.
Culver built a new terminal at the southern end of Culver Plaza North, along the Concourse, between West 5th and West 6th Streets. He also demolished some structures in Culver Plaza North, brought others to Culver Plaza South, and extended the tracks southward through the old plaza to the new depot. This destroyed the prior aura of spaciousness and charm that characterized Culver Plaza North.
Cable’s Hotel now faced railroad tracks instead of an open plaza. Therefore, a new Cable Hotel was built on the west side of the depot facing the Concourse, with West 6th Street between it and the original Cable’s Hotel. The old Cable’s Hotel, forming a right angle with the new one, remained as an annex to handle the overflow crowd of the new hotel. Cable did not renew his lease, and it was acquired by Doyle and Stubenbord, who changed the name of the new hotel to the Ocean View Hotel, and the old one to Doyle's Annex. In later years, the new structure was renamed the Prospect Hotel.
Also in 1876, Philadelphia hosted a massive fair to commemorate the Centennial of the Declaration of Independence. Many architecturally advanced buildings were constructed to house exhibits and showcase technological advances. Culver purchased one of the main attractions, Sawyer's Observation Tower, and re-erected it at Culver Plaza South. Often called Iron Tower, Steel Tower or the Iron Observatory, it was a steel structure that stood 300 feet high, an incredible height at the time. Two steam elevators that carried passengers to a platform at the top, where visitors could use telescopes to have a forty-mile panoramic view. People loved these views at a time before skyscrapers or airplanes had been invented.
Culver also built a rail extension to the pier at Norton's Point to connect West Brighton with steamers landing there. Its tracks were along Railroad Avenue, which was about thirty yards north of Surf Avenue, and ran parallel to it. Throughout the following decade, Culver would prove his mettle time and again. His railroad would become known as the best run on Coney Island.
At the end of the following season, Culver decided to make some significant changes to Culver Plaza. Overall, Culver felt that his railroad depot was too far from the Concourse, which was the area’s main thoroughfare, and much too far from the beach. So, he tore up Culver Plaza North and moved the heart of it to Culver Plaza South, which was on the beach side of the Concourse.
Culver built a new terminal at the southern end of Culver Plaza North, along the Concourse, between West 5th and West 6th Streets. He also demolished some structures in Culver Plaza North, brought others to Culver Plaza South, and extended the tracks southward through the old plaza to the new depot. This destroyed the prior aura of spaciousness and charm that characterized Culver Plaza North.
Cable’s Hotel now faced railroad tracks instead of an open plaza. Therefore, a new Cable Hotel was built on the west side of the depot facing the Concourse, with West 6th Street between it and the original Cable’s Hotel. The old Cable’s Hotel, forming a right angle with the new one, remained as an annex to handle the overflow crowd of the new hotel. Cable did not renew his lease, and it was acquired by Doyle and Stubenbord, who changed the name of the new hotel to the Ocean View Hotel, and the old one to Doyle's Annex. In later years, the new structure was renamed the Prospect Hotel.
Also in 1876, Philadelphia hosted a massive fair to commemorate the Centennial of the Declaration of Independence. Many architecturally advanced buildings were constructed to house exhibits and showcase technological advances. Culver purchased one of the main attractions, Sawyer's Observation Tower, and re-erected it at Culver Plaza South. Often called Iron Tower, Steel Tower or the Iron Observatory, it was a steel structure that stood 300 feet high, an incredible height at the time. Two steam elevators that carried passengers to a platform at the top, where visitors could use telescopes to have a forty-mile panoramic view. People loved these views at a time before skyscrapers or airplanes had been invented.
Culver also built a rail extension to the pier at Norton's Point to connect West Brighton with steamers landing there. Its tracks were along Railroad Avenue, which was about thirty yards north of Surf Avenue, and ran parallel to it. Throughout the following decade, Culver would prove his mettle time and again. His railroad would become known as the best run on Coney Island.

Culver’s Competition: The Sea Beach Railroad opens Sea Beach Palace at West Brighton (1878)
Culver was the first to reach West Brighton, but was not alone in seeing the area’s potential. At around the time that Culver was bringing his Prospect Park and Coney Island Railroad to West 6th Street and the Concourse, a competing company decided to enter the fray at West Brighton.
The New York and Sea Beach Railroad was organized by a syndicate headed by the Lorillard tobacco people. They acquired a vacant tract just to the west of Culver’s tract. It ran between West 8th to West 12th Streets, from Surf to Neptune Avenues. Because this tract had no oceanfront access, they also purchased a strip of land near West 8th Street between Surf Avenue and the ocean. Their Sea Beach Railroad ran between the Bay Ridge Pier and a terminal that was at the present Surf Avenue and West 10th Street.
The Sea Beach Railroad executives, realizing that Culver was no pushover, also went shopping at the Philadelphia Centennial for a signature building to attract visitors. They purchased the fair’s United States Government building, intending it to serve as the Sea Beach Railroad’s West Brighton terminal at West 10th Street. The building was renamed Sea Beach Palace and moved to Coney Island in late 1876, re-erected during 1877, and opened in May of 1878.
Sea Beach Palace was a beautiful and massive steel-and-glass structure centered around a grand glass dome. It served both as a terminal and a large indoor entertainment facility. Large or tall
buildings were considered particularly special at the time because of the unique architectural challenges back then, especially those with large glass domes. The main floor of the building had, in addition to the trains’ waiting room, a large restaurant, bar, theatre, convention hall, and exhibition rooms. Sandwiches, cold cuts and salads were served at a lunch counter that was 240 feet long. When the convention hall was not being used, it became a roller-skating rink, with music provided for the skaters. The upper floor initially served as a hotel, with accommodations for two hundred guests. The noise from the crowds and trains below, in addition to the smoke from the locomotives, resulted in empty rooms. Eventually, the upper-floor rooms were converted into railroad and telegraph offices.
Even though trade card advertisements frequently show people bathing in front of Sea Beach Palace, it was on the opposite side of the Concourse from the ocean, and never that close to the beach. So much for the morality of Charles Merritt, its prim-and-proper Victorian-era manager!
Sea Beach Palace would remain an iconic landmark at West Brighton for decades. Over time, it would be among several destinations that would perpetuate a gradual shift westward of the center of West Brighton, away from Culver Plaza.
Culver was the first to reach West Brighton, but was not alone in seeing the area’s potential. At around the time that Culver was bringing his Prospect Park and Coney Island Railroad to West 6th Street and the Concourse, a competing company decided to enter the fray at West Brighton.
The New York and Sea Beach Railroad was organized by a syndicate headed by the Lorillard tobacco people. They acquired a vacant tract just to the west of Culver’s tract. It ran between West 8th to West 12th Streets, from Surf to Neptune Avenues. Because this tract had no oceanfront access, they also purchased a strip of land near West 8th Street between Surf Avenue and the ocean. Their Sea Beach Railroad ran between the Bay Ridge Pier and a terminal that was at the present Surf Avenue and West 10th Street.
The Sea Beach Railroad executives, realizing that Culver was no pushover, also went shopping at the Philadelphia Centennial for a signature building to attract visitors. They purchased the fair’s United States Government building, intending it to serve as the Sea Beach Railroad’s West Brighton terminal at West 10th Street. The building was renamed Sea Beach Palace and moved to Coney Island in late 1876, re-erected during 1877, and opened in May of 1878.
Sea Beach Palace was a beautiful and massive steel-and-glass structure centered around a grand glass dome. It served both as a terminal and a large indoor entertainment facility. Large or tall
buildings were considered particularly special at the time because of the unique architectural challenges back then, especially those with large glass domes. The main floor of the building had, in addition to the trains’ waiting room, a large restaurant, bar, theatre, convention hall, and exhibition rooms. Sandwiches, cold cuts and salads were served at a lunch counter that was 240 feet long. When the convention hall was not being used, it became a roller-skating rink, with music provided for the skaters. The upper floor initially served as a hotel, with accommodations for two hundred guests. The noise from the crowds and trains below, in addition to the smoke from the locomotives, resulted in empty rooms. Eventually, the upper-floor rooms were converted into railroad and telegraph offices.
Even though trade card advertisements frequently show people bathing in front of Sea Beach Palace, it was on the opposite side of the Concourse from the ocean, and never that close to the beach. So much for the morality of Charles Merritt, its prim-and-proper Victorian-era manager!
Sea Beach Palace would remain an iconic landmark at West Brighton for decades. Over time, it would be among several destinations that would perpetuate a gradual shift westward of the center of West Brighton, away from Culver Plaza.

The Sea Beach Railroad builds the Iron Pier (1879)
The New York and Sea Beach Railroad Company decided, early in 1879, to construct an iron pier at the beach in front of its oceanfront West 8th Street property. Its subsidiary, the Ocean Pier and Navigation Company, supervised the construction of the pier, and operated it after its completion in the summer of 1879. The pier extended from 1,000 to 1,300 feet (accounts of its length vary) into the ocean, where steamboats discharged, or took on, passengers. It had two covered decks, or levels, fifty feet wide at the narrowest parts, and 125 feet wide at it broadest parts, which were near both ends of the pier, and in the middle. On the upper floor, at the three broad sections, were pagoda-like structures forty feet high, containing a restaurant, ballroom, and a theatre with 2,500 seats. Eventually, the entire upper level was covered by superstructures housing a beauty salon, tonsorial parlor, florist, pharmacy, confectionary shop, cigar store, lounges, newsstand, and some company offices. The offshore section of the pier had side-sliding windows to protest against inclement weather. There were hundreds of gas lamps, in clusters, and covered with colored globes, along both levels of the pier. Steamboat passengers used the lower level, which had benches on both sides to accommodate those waiting for, or emerging from, boats. It also had refreshment stands, an ice cream parlor, and, near the shore, locker rooms for those wishing to bathe. Later, these bathhouses were moved off the pier and onto shore. The pier was connected to Surf Avenue by a paved lane called Sea Beach Walk. Years later, when Dreamland was built, this pier became known as Dreamland Pier.
The New York and Sea Beach Railroad Company decided, early in 1879, to construct an iron pier at the beach in front of its oceanfront West 8th Street property. Its subsidiary, the Ocean Pier and Navigation Company, supervised the construction of the pier, and operated it after its completion in the summer of 1879. The pier extended from 1,000 to 1,300 feet (accounts of its length vary) into the ocean, where steamboats discharged, or took on, passengers. It had two covered decks, or levels, fifty feet wide at the narrowest parts, and 125 feet wide at it broadest parts, which were near both ends of the pier, and in the middle. On the upper floor, at the three broad sections, were pagoda-like structures forty feet high, containing a restaurant, ballroom, and a theatre with 2,500 seats. Eventually, the entire upper level was covered by superstructures housing a beauty salon, tonsorial parlor, florist, pharmacy, confectionary shop, cigar store, lounges, newsstand, and some company offices. The offshore section of the pier had side-sliding windows to protest against inclement weather. There were hundreds of gas lamps, in clusters, and covered with colored globes, along both levels of the pier. Steamboat passengers used the lower level, which had benches on both sides to accommodate those waiting for, or emerging from, boats. It also had refreshment stands, an ice cream parlor, and, near the shore, locker rooms for those wishing to bathe. Later, these bathhouses were moved off the pier and onto shore. The pier was connected to Surf Avenue by a paved lane called Sea Beach Walk. Years later, when Dreamland was built, this pier became known as Dreamland Pier.
Culver Responds by building the New Iron Pier (1881)
Two years later, the Culver Company, through its subsidiary, the Brighton Pier and Navigation Company, constructed its own iron pier, at about West 5th Street, extending 1,500 feet out into the ocean, and built a brick walk from Culver Plaza South towards the pier. Unlike the Iron Pier, this New Iron Pier had only one covered level, but at each end it had two massive superstructures 150 feet wide. On the upper level at the ocean end was a theatre, and at the shore end, a restaurant and ballroom, along with the additional civilized amenities provided at the other pier. Culver's pier became known as 'New Iron Pier' and the original Sea Beach Iron Pier became known as 'Old' Iron Pier (and, eventually, Dreamland Pier). At both piers, military bands would greet passengers arriving in steamboats, and dance bands would alternate between the ballrooms and theatres. In the latter, variety acts were presented.
Two years later, the Culver Company, through its subsidiary, the Brighton Pier and Navigation Company, constructed its own iron pier, at about West 5th Street, extending 1,500 feet out into the ocean, and built a brick walk from Culver Plaza South towards the pier. Unlike the Iron Pier, this New Iron Pier had only one covered level, but at each end it had two massive superstructures 150 feet wide. On the upper level at the ocean end was a theatre, and at the shore end, a restaurant and ballroom, along with the additional civilized amenities provided at the other pier. Culver's pier became known as 'New Iron Pier' and the original Sea Beach Iron Pier became known as 'Old' Iron Pier (and, eventually, Dreamland Pier). At both piers, military bands would greet passengers arriving in steamboats, and dance bands would alternate between the ballrooms and theatres. In the latter, variety acts were presented.

Paul Bauer establishes his West Brighton Beach Hotel (1876)
While Culver and the Sea Beach Railroad were battling it out, but before they had built their iron piers, a genial man by the name of Paul Bauer entered the scene. Bauer had emigrated from Austria to the United States and risen to the rank of captain in the Union Army during the Civil War.
According to William Stillwell, a descendant of one of Gravesend's settlers, Bauer and his wife were visiting West Brighton in early 1876. The Concourse (Surf Avenue) was not yet paved, and they were having difficulty driving their horse and carriage along the road’s deep sand. Bauer’s wife remarked that it was the worst place she had ever seen, to which Bauer responded that it could be made the best place. The following day, he obtained the twelve-acre lease there from Gravesend Township and began to execute his vision.
This fanciful account doesn't quite square with allegations that Bauer got the property for considerably less than others were offering for it. Bauer's daughter was the wife of John McKane's younger brother, James. John McKane was a crooked and increasingly powerful local politician who, by 1876, was responsible for many aspects of Gravesend’s local government operations, including renting out the Gravesend common lands. There is every reason to believe that Bauer's acquisition of this valuable tract was due not to a spontaneous decision by him, but to a good deal of finagling by John McKane prior to the transaction.
Paul Bauer’s lease was, in any case, stellar. It was a long-term lease on land between West 6th and West 8th Streets, from the Concourse all the way down to the ocean. The property was ideally situated between the two new railroad terminals across the Concourse, and, later, between the iron piers.
Bauer began dreaming plans to build a grand hotel on his tract that would put Cable’s, Vanderveer’s, Chamberlain’s and the others to shame. The McKane Construction Company was given the construction contract, unsurprisingly, as this was John McKane’s favorite method of receiving kickbacks for doling out leases at below market prices. The hotel would be a two-story, all-frame structure. It measured about 250 feet in a north-south direction, and about 150 along the Concourse. There were verandas (at the time called piazzas) on each level that extended completely around the building. On the roof of the building, at each corner, were towers with private dining-rooms for coaching parties, or groups of people using them to celebrate special occasions.
Bauer’s Atlantic Garden Hotel, later renamed the West Brighton Beach Hotel, opened in May of 1876. It was an instant success. Its location was outstanding, right next to the Iron Tower observatory. And yes, he actually did have an oceanfront hotel, unlike those lying scoundrels at Sea Beach Palace. The hotel was illuminated by thousands of gas-jets in colored globes, and Chinese, or Japanese, lanterns were strung around the grounds, imparting a festiveness to the area. The upper floors provided hotel facilities for two hundred guests, and the main floor had a restaurant that could serve eight-thousand diners at one time, with room on the verandas for 2,000 more. Also on the main floor was a bar, where prodigious amounts of beer were dispensed and consumed. The basement is said to have contained 20,000 bottles of wine and whiskey. Also in the basement was a billiard room, and a shooting range that presumably not in proximity to the bottles. On the south side of the hotel was a bandstand, where the Red Hussar Band, appropriately dressed in uniforms, entertained the crowds there, said to number often over twenty-five thousand people.
While Culver and the Sea Beach Railroad were battling it out, but before they had built their iron piers, a genial man by the name of Paul Bauer entered the scene. Bauer had emigrated from Austria to the United States and risen to the rank of captain in the Union Army during the Civil War.
According to William Stillwell, a descendant of one of Gravesend's settlers, Bauer and his wife were visiting West Brighton in early 1876. The Concourse (Surf Avenue) was not yet paved, and they were having difficulty driving their horse and carriage along the road’s deep sand. Bauer’s wife remarked that it was the worst place she had ever seen, to which Bauer responded that it could be made the best place. The following day, he obtained the twelve-acre lease there from Gravesend Township and began to execute his vision.
This fanciful account doesn't quite square with allegations that Bauer got the property for considerably less than others were offering for it. Bauer's daughter was the wife of John McKane's younger brother, James. John McKane was a crooked and increasingly powerful local politician who, by 1876, was responsible for many aspects of Gravesend’s local government operations, including renting out the Gravesend common lands. There is every reason to believe that Bauer's acquisition of this valuable tract was due not to a spontaneous decision by him, but to a good deal of finagling by John McKane prior to the transaction.
Paul Bauer’s lease was, in any case, stellar. It was a long-term lease on land between West 6th and West 8th Streets, from the Concourse all the way down to the ocean. The property was ideally situated between the two new railroad terminals across the Concourse, and, later, between the iron piers.
Bauer began dreaming plans to build a grand hotel on his tract that would put Cable’s, Vanderveer’s, Chamberlain’s and the others to shame. The McKane Construction Company was given the construction contract, unsurprisingly, as this was John McKane’s favorite method of receiving kickbacks for doling out leases at below market prices. The hotel would be a two-story, all-frame structure. It measured about 250 feet in a north-south direction, and about 150 along the Concourse. There were verandas (at the time called piazzas) on each level that extended completely around the building. On the roof of the building, at each corner, were towers with private dining-rooms for coaching parties, or groups of people using them to celebrate special occasions.
Bauer’s Atlantic Garden Hotel, later renamed the West Brighton Beach Hotel, opened in May of 1876. It was an instant success. Its location was outstanding, right next to the Iron Tower observatory. And yes, he actually did have an oceanfront hotel, unlike those lying scoundrels at Sea Beach Palace. The hotel was illuminated by thousands of gas-jets in colored globes, and Chinese, or Japanese, lanterns were strung around the grounds, imparting a festiveness to the area. The upper floors provided hotel facilities for two hundred guests, and the main floor had a restaurant that could serve eight-thousand diners at one time, with room on the verandas for 2,000 more. Also on the main floor was a bar, where prodigious amounts of beer were dispensed and consumed. The basement is said to have contained 20,000 bottles of wine and whiskey. Also in the basement was a billiard room, and a shooting range that presumably not in proximity to the bottles. On the south side of the hotel was a bandstand, where the Red Hussar Band, appropriately dressed in uniforms, entertained the crowds there, said to number often over twenty-five thousand people.
The Atlantic Garden dining-room was the talk of the town. All its walls were papered with seascapes and landscapes, showing nature in different seasons and moods, such as snow-capped mountains, waterfalls, raging seas, or placid lakes amid flowering meadows. The ceiling was painted gold, and crystal chandeliers endowed the room with an ornate glow. Contributing further to its elegance was an orchestra composed of thirty young female musicians attired in white gowns. Bauer had brought this orchestra from his native Vienna, along with its conductor, Marie Roller, who was also a violin soloist. In such ambiance, even if the food had been poor, it would have been enjoyed, but it was of first class quality, well prepared, and ample in its portions. The desserts of Viennese pastries provided their subtle addition to expanding waistlines.
About a year after Bauer opened his hotel, he got McKane’s carpenters to construct a platform on the east and south sides of the hotel. The platform on the east reached to the pedestrian walk leading from Culver Plaza South to the shore, and the platform on the south extended southward for about 350 feet to where stairs led to the beach. On the platform east of the hotel, tables and benches were placed for the convenience of picnickers. Nearby was a kiosk that housed a large, artificial cow. Pretty milkmaids, serving customers, drew from the cow's udder not only cold milk, sarsaparilla and beer, but champagne and other liquid refreshments. The creature was known as the Inexhaustible Cow.
As fast as Bauer was making money, he was pouring it back into the business. After a few years, Bauer expanded the hotel, adding additional rooms on the roof and connecting them to the tower dining-rooms. To the southwest of his hotel, McKane also built for him a huge structure which he intended to use as a theatre, a ballroom, or a convention hall. It was called Bauer's Casino. As we shall see, it was eventually repurposed into the Coney Island Athletic Club, the famous sports arena in which ‘Gentleman’ Jim Corbett, Bob Fitzsimmons, and Jim Jeffries fought for the heavyweight boxing championship of the world.
Bauer made other improvements, such as carriage houses and stables for his wealthy guests, and an exclusive clubhouse for them on the north side of the Concourse, opposite his hotel. Bauer was spending on such a lavish scale that he had to borrow extensively, expecting that the returns on his investments would greatly exceed his costs. In his business, as in farming, success depended to a great extent on the weather, and often the weather failed to cooperate. As we shall see, poor Paul Bauer had gone in over his head in debt.
About a year after Bauer opened his hotel, he got McKane’s carpenters to construct a platform on the east and south sides of the hotel. The platform on the east reached to the pedestrian walk leading from Culver Plaza South to the shore, and the platform on the south extended southward for about 350 feet to where stairs led to the beach. On the platform east of the hotel, tables and benches were placed for the convenience of picnickers. Nearby was a kiosk that housed a large, artificial cow. Pretty milkmaids, serving customers, drew from the cow's udder not only cold milk, sarsaparilla and beer, but champagne and other liquid refreshments. The creature was known as the Inexhaustible Cow.
As fast as Bauer was making money, he was pouring it back into the business. After a few years, Bauer expanded the hotel, adding additional rooms on the roof and connecting them to the tower dining-rooms. To the southwest of his hotel, McKane also built for him a huge structure which he intended to use as a theatre, a ballroom, or a convention hall. It was called Bauer's Casino. As we shall see, it was eventually repurposed into the Coney Island Athletic Club, the famous sports arena in which ‘Gentleman’ Jim Corbett, Bob Fitzsimmons, and Jim Jeffries fought for the heavyweight boxing championship of the world.
Bauer made other improvements, such as carriage houses and stables for his wealthy guests, and an exclusive clubhouse for them on the north side of the Concourse, opposite his hotel. Bauer was spending on such a lavish scale that he had to borrow extensively, expecting that the returns on his investments would greatly exceed his costs. In his business, as in farming, success depended to a great extent on the weather, and often the weather failed to cooperate. As we shall see, poor Paul Bauer had gone in over his head in debt.

Charles Feltman transforms West Brighton’s Dining and Entertainment Scene (1875)
Around 1870, a good five years before Culver entered the picture, Charles Feltman had a wholesale bakery in the Park Slope area of Brooklyn that was supplying bread, cake, and ice cream to the small hotels, food stands, and bathing pavilions that made up Coney Island in its early days. Feltman was a German immigrant who had come to America at a young age in search of opportunity. He had endured initial hardship, saved enough to become his own boss, and was now a capable businessman who was willing to take calculated risks. One of those risks had been his Brooklyn bakery, which he built in a then-undeveloped area on the expectation that southern Brooklyn would develop. His gamble paid off, and by the early 1870s, he was supplying two out of three bakery products sold at Coney Island.
For the 1875 season, Feltman established his own dining establishment directly in West Brighton, while still maintaining his wholesale bakery. He correctly estimated that the new venture would be quite profitable, based on the volumes his customers were ordering and the markups they were able to charge. Feltman leased a 16 foot by 25 foot shanty around Culver Plaza, erected a basic but more respectable lunch stand roughly double its size adjacent to it, and began quality clam roasts, ice cream and drinks at half the price of his competition. His foray was a huge success. Unfortunately, Feltman’s lessor also noticed this and raised his rent considerably at the end of his trial year. Feltman began searching for a better deal.
Feltman found out that Henry Ditmas, who had lost significant sums running a fleabag called the Washington Hotel, was not planning to renew his lease on a prime, sizeable lot. Feltman worked out a deal with Ditmas under which Ditmas renewed his lease and then sold his rights to Feltman for $3,800. Ditmas’ tract was across the Concourse from Sea Beach Palace, between West 10th Street and Jones Walk, near West 12th Street. The tract extended from the Concourse down to the ocean, with two-hundred feet of frontage along both. Over time, ocean currents also kept washing up more sand along Feltman’s beach, adding several acres to his new property over the years.
Seeing the possibilities afforded by his remarkable new lease, Feltman now embarked on a much more aggressive business plan. He would erect multiple buildings and establish a dining, lodging and entertainment complex.
Feltman believed it was necessary for the hotel, restaurant and entertainment venues to serve customers year-round and on weekdays to make the investment worthwhile. On weekends, he planned to attract conventions and the general public, and on weekdays, he planned to draw lodge and club meetings by offering them dining accommodations for them at reduced prices. However, West Brighton at the time was focused on the summer bathing season, and transportation schedules reflected this. Gunther’s Dummy Line was the only railroad to Coney Island at the time, and while it ran later trains on weekends, its last train back to Brooklyn on weekdays left at around 7:15 p.m. This was much too early for visitors to get to West Brighton and then have dinner, in an age when people worked 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., six days a week. Gunther was uninterested in running later trains just for Feltman, as were managers of the horsecar line. Feltman then sought out Culver just as he was about to build his new railroad, and gave his opinion that running a railway to Coney Island only for the summer weekend trade was uneconomical. If it rained on several summer weekends, the trains would run empty. Feltman promised that his lodge and club members would come year-round, rain or shine. Culver agreed with Feltman and set his last weekday trains out of West Brighton at 9:30 p.m. If things worked out as expected, Culver agreed to set the departure time at an even later hour.
Around 1870, a good five years before Culver entered the picture, Charles Feltman had a wholesale bakery in the Park Slope area of Brooklyn that was supplying bread, cake, and ice cream to the small hotels, food stands, and bathing pavilions that made up Coney Island in its early days. Feltman was a German immigrant who had come to America at a young age in search of opportunity. He had endured initial hardship, saved enough to become his own boss, and was now a capable businessman who was willing to take calculated risks. One of those risks had been his Brooklyn bakery, which he built in a then-undeveloped area on the expectation that southern Brooklyn would develop. His gamble paid off, and by the early 1870s, he was supplying two out of three bakery products sold at Coney Island.
For the 1875 season, Feltman established his own dining establishment directly in West Brighton, while still maintaining his wholesale bakery. He correctly estimated that the new venture would be quite profitable, based on the volumes his customers were ordering and the markups they were able to charge. Feltman leased a 16 foot by 25 foot shanty around Culver Plaza, erected a basic but more respectable lunch stand roughly double its size adjacent to it, and began quality clam roasts, ice cream and drinks at half the price of his competition. His foray was a huge success. Unfortunately, Feltman’s lessor also noticed this and raised his rent considerably at the end of his trial year. Feltman began searching for a better deal.
Feltman found out that Henry Ditmas, who had lost significant sums running a fleabag called the Washington Hotel, was not planning to renew his lease on a prime, sizeable lot. Feltman worked out a deal with Ditmas under which Ditmas renewed his lease and then sold his rights to Feltman for $3,800. Ditmas’ tract was across the Concourse from Sea Beach Palace, between West 10th Street and Jones Walk, near West 12th Street. The tract extended from the Concourse down to the ocean, with two-hundred feet of frontage along both. Over time, ocean currents also kept washing up more sand along Feltman’s beach, adding several acres to his new property over the years.
Seeing the possibilities afforded by his remarkable new lease, Feltman now embarked on a much more aggressive business plan. He would erect multiple buildings and establish a dining, lodging and entertainment complex.
Feltman believed it was necessary for the hotel, restaurant and entertainment venues to serve customers year-round and on weekdays to make the investment worthwhile. On weekends, he planned to attract conventions and the general public, and on weekdays, he planned to draw lodge and club meetings by offering them dining accommodations for them at reduced prices. However, West Brighton at the time was focused on the summer bathing season, and transportation schedules reflected this. Gunther’s Dummy Line was the only railroad to Coney Island at the time, and while it ran later trains on weekends, its last train back to Brooklyn on weekdays left at around 7:15 p.m. This was much too early for visitors to get to West Brighton and then have dinner, in an age when people worked 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., six days a week. Gunther was uninterested in running later trains just for Feltman, as were managers of the horsecar line. Feltman then sought out Culver just as he was about to build his new railroad, and gave his opinion that running a railway to Coney Island only for the summer weekend trade was uneconomical. If it rained on several summer weekends, the trains would run empty. Feltman promised that his lodge and club members would come year-round, rain or shine. Culver agreed with Feltman and set his last weekday trains out of West Brighton at 9:30 p.m. If things worked out as expected, Culver agreed to set the departure time at an even later hour.
Feltman immediately hired McKane to build a three-building complex called the Ocean Pavilion, having been assured by Culver of year-round late-return railroad service. Feltman’s Ocean Pavilion consisted of a large hotel connected by passageways to two smaller additional general purpose buildings. The hotel itself was built first. It was three stories tall and ran fifty-five feet along the Concourse and 125 feet towards the ocean. The hotel had a bar and dining room on the main floor, and guest rooms on the two upper floors. Each floor had verandas, with sections set aside for dining. Food was delivered to the upper floors by means of dumbwaiters. The two additions were built next. Each was roughly the same height and extended twenty-five feet along the Concourse and 85 feet south. For the Ocean Pavilion’s first season, in 1876, Feltman hired Wannemacher’s 71st Regiment Band to play there, and added sung performance in 1877, a novelty at Coney Island. Having three smaller structures instead of one large one was to avoid the necessity of making major alterations if sections were to be converted for other purposes.
Over the next five or so years, Feltman continuously made additions to the complex, such that within ten years, he had the largest entertaining and dining venue in Coney Island.
A short distance to the south of the Ocean Pavilion, Feltman had McKane build a magnificent ballroom. Eventually, Feltman hoped to turn it into a theater. When the ballroom was not in use, it doubled as a convention hall, and an exhibition center in which visiting trade associations displayed their wares. Seventeen iron trusses, shaped like arches, were set parallel to each other to form the framework for the building, which had a 225 foot length and 45 foot width. From these trusses, 125 tons could be suspended to create balconies or entire floors, thereby obviating the necessity of building supporting pillars, which blocked the views of audiences. The ballroom was the epitome of elegance. Along the neat, ivory-colored plaster walls were elaborate, gilt sconces to highlight panels containing oil-painted murals of allegorical figures, of romantic sylvan scenes with backgrounds of castle ruins, and of groups of attractive young people in 18th Century dress, playing musical instruments or dancing, like delicate Lancret figures. The room also was illuminated by four-hundred gas-lights in amber-colored globes. Opinions varied as to whether Feltman's ballroom was artistically superior to Paul Bauer's dining room, but there was common agreement that both were beautiful.
Along the beach, Feltman erected a bathing pavilion, which also included a refreshments stand.
Over the next five or so years, Feltman continuously made additions to the complex, such that within ten years, he had the largest entertaining and dining venue in Coney Island.
A short distance to the south of the Ocean Pavilion, Feltman had McKane build a magnificent ballroom. Eventually, Feltman hoped to turn it into a theater. When the ballroom was not in use, it doubled as a convention hall, and an exhibition center in which visiting trade associations displayed their wares. Seventeen iron trusses, shaped like arches, were set parallel to each other to form the framework for the building, which had a 225 foot length and 45 foot width. From these trusses, 125 tons could be suspended to create balconies or entire floors, thereby obviating the necessity of building supporting pillars, which blocked the views of audiences. The ballroom was the epitome of elegance. Along the neat, ivory-colored plaster walls were elaborate, gilt sconces to highlight panels containing oil-painted murals of allegorical figures, of romantic sylvan scenes with backgrounds of castle ruins, and of groups of attractive young people in 18th Century dress, playing musical instruments or dancing, like delicate Lancret figures. The room also was illuminated by four-hundred gas-lights in amber-colored globes. Opinions varied as to whether Feltman's ballroom was artistically superior to Paul Bauer's dining room, but there was common agreement that both were beautiful.
Along the beach, Feltman erected a bathing pavilion, which also included a refreshments stand.
Feltman’s most famous and enduring creations, however, were his garden and restaurant. As a kid in Germany, he remembered visiting large outdoor dining establishments set among trees and gardens. Feltman bet that other immigrants would feel nostalgic about them as well.
He started by building a replica of a type of free-flowing garden known in architecture as a Deutscher Garten. He brought in tons of topsoil and planted bushes and flower-beds along paved walks. He placed three-hundred evergreen trees growing out of sod-boxes along these walks, later replacing them with maple trees rooted in the ground. Some of the walks branched off to shady glens and vine-covered trellises, where there were benches for those who preferred privacy.
On the east side of his grounds, Feltman then built a replica of a Bavarian inn and beer hall. Diners could have their meals in the building or on the grounds around it, and either in an open square or under trees in a grove. The food here was served by waiters dressed in native Bavarian dress. Some customers joked that Feltman expertly trained caterpillars to dive from tree branches into their beers, to ensure that customers would order fresh ones. All the while, diners listened to music played by military bands and orchestras that played waltzes. After a visit to Germany in late 1879, he imported entertainers from central Europe, such as the famous Tyrolian Warblers, an Austrian version of Swiss yodelers.
At the beginning, Feltman's diners were mostly Teutonic, but word spread quickly and his customers became more cosmopolitan. After a time, entertainers performed in English, and the music gradually changed from waltzes, polkas, and marches, to fox-trots, turkey-trots, and Lancers.
Feltman’s plan to get lodges to meet at his establishment started off slowly, and he was only able to book two events his second season. By 1882, however, the strategy had become a huge success. In addition to these sizable assemblages, there were conventions and almost nightly functions by smaller groups.
He started by building a replica of a type of free-flowing garden known in architecture as a Deutscher Garten. He brought in tons of topsoil and planted bushes and flower-beds along paved walks. He placed three-hundred evergreen trees growing out of sod-boxes along these walks, later replacing them with maple trees rooted in the ground. Some of the walks branched off to shady glens and vine-covered trellises, where there were benches for those who preferred privacy.
On the east side of his grounds, Feltman then built a replica of a Bavarian inn and beer hall. Diners could have their meals in the building or on the grounds around it, and either in an open square or under trees in a grove. The food here was served by waiters dressed in native Bavarian dress. Some customers joked that Feltman expertly trained caterpillars to dive from tree branches into their beers, to ensure that customers would order fresh ones. All the while, diners listened to music played by military bands and orchestras that played waltzes. After a visit to Germany in late 1879, he imported entertainers from central Europe, such as the famous Tyrolian Warblers, an Austrian version of Swiss yodelers.
At the beginning, Feltman's diners were mostly Teutonic, but word spread quickly and his customers became more cosmopolitan. After a time, entertainers performed in English, and the music gradually changed from waltzes, polkas, and marches, to fox-trots, turkey-trots, and Lancers.
Feltman’s plan to get lodges to meet at his establishment started off slowly, and he was only able to book two events his second season. By 1882, however, the strategy had become a huge success. In addition to these sizable assemblages, there were conventions and almost nightly functions by smaller groups.
Feltman also catered to those of lesser means through foods stands. Most of those folks seemed to have a preference for sausage, or wienerwurst – the Americans called them weenies – but at ten cents each, he was not going to serve them on crockery. So, he hit on the idea of placing the sausage in a bread roll, adding a little mustard on top, some sauerkraut on top of that, and voila – the modern hot dog. Feltman sought the honor of having been the first to create this culinary delight, but former residents of Frankfurt, Germany, ridiculed Feltman's claim, saying it had been known as a frankfurter in their city long before Feltman was born. In any case, Feltman is credited with bringing the hot dog to the United States.
Some years later, the elaborate ballroom building was destroyed by fire, whereupon Feltman expanded his garden dining facilities into that area. He erected a narrow, two story structure that had no walls, but had a railing around the upper floor to prevent accidents. The main floor was for regular dinners, the upper one for clambakes. It was intended for fresh air dining, and provided protection from sun and rain. He also built, on ground level only, a new ballroom that had as much floor-space as the one destroyed by fire.
Feltman built a circular building along the Concourse (Surf Avenue) around 1903 to house the famous "Feltman Carousel," perhaps the greatest of all of Coney Island's carousels. The building is shown in the photo titled "Feltman's complex c. 1908" (several paragraphs above), and has a large advertising sign on top with a hand pointing to the Ziz roller coaster, another ride on Feltman's property (see below). This famous carousel was created by the legendary Coney Island amusement ride pioneer William Mangels and his master carver, Illions. The horses were beautifully and ornately hand-carved. Many prominent people are known to have ridden on Feltman’s carousel, including President William Howard Taft. President Taft weighed about three hundred pounds, and the story goes that after he finished riding, the wooden horse he had been on was found to have become ruptured. One source states that a real horse was used to turn the merry-go-round; but this seems unlikely as all European carousels were by this time powered by steam, which also provided the music, like the calliopes on the Mississippi showboats, and some carousels were already beginning to use electric power. Perhaps that source was referencing one of the older carousels that had been on the Feltman property, such as the carousel carved around 1880 by the famous carver Loof.
Feltman eventually installed a roller coaster, called the "Ziz - A Mile a Minute," around 1905 along the western end of his property, from Surf Avenue to the beach. The roller coaster was also built by Mangels. Today, the small tags that were given out as tickets, featuring an assortment of colorful characters, are valued by collectors.
When Feltman died in 1910, the business passed into the capable hands of his sons, Charles L. and Alfred. The name of their Deutscher Garten was changed to Maple Gardens during World War I when German troop atrocities reportedly-committed in Belgium and France evoked hostility in the United States towards all things German. When the United States entered the war, the German establishments in Coney Island had their names anglicized, and their walls, inside and out, were bedecked with American flags and red, white and blue bunting, so as to leave no doubt as to their allegiance.
Some years later, the elaborate ballroom building was destroyed by fire, whereupon Feltman expanded his garden dining facilities into that area. He erected a narrow, two story structure that had no walls, but had a railing around the upper floor to prevent accidents. The main floor was for regular dinners, the upper one for clambakes. It was intended for fresh air dining, and provided protection from sun and rain. He also built, on ground level only, a new ballroom that had as much floor-space as the one destroyed by fire.
Feltman built a circular building along the Concourse (Surf Avenue) around 1903 to house the famous "Feltman Carousel," perhaps the greatest of all of Coney Island's carousels. The building is shown in the photo titled "Feltman's complex c. 1908" (several paragraphs above), and has a large advertising sign on top with a hand pointing to the Ziz roller coaster, another ride on Feltman's property (see below). This famous carousel was created by the legendary Coney Island amusement ride pioneer William Mangels and his master carver, Illions. The horses were beautifully and ornately hand-carved. Many prominent people are known to have ridden on Feltman’s carousel, including President William Howard Taft. President Taft weighed about three hundred pounds, and the story goes that after he finished riding, the wooden horse he had been on was found to have become ruptured. One source states that a real horse was used to turn the merry-go-round; but this seems unlikely as all European carousels were by this time powered by steam, which also provided the music, like the calliopes on the Mississippi showboats, and some carousels were already beginning to use electric power. Perhaps that source was referencing one of the older carousels that had been on the Feltman property, such as the carousel carved around 1880 by the famous carver Loof.
Feltman eventually installed a roller coaster, called the "Ziz - A Mile a Minute," around 1905 along the western end of his property, from Surf Avenue to the beach. The roller coaster was also built by Mangels. Today, the small tags that were given out as tickets, featuring an assortment of colorful characters, are valued by collectors.
When Feltman died in 1910, the business passed into the capable hands of his sons, Charles L. and Alfred. The name of their Deutscher Garten was changed to Maple Gardens during World War I when German troop atrocities reportedly-committed in Belgium and France evoked hostility in the United States towards all things German. When the United States entered the war, the German establishments in Coney Island had their names anglicized, and their walls, inside and out, were bedecked with American flags and red, white and blue bunting, so as to leave no doubt as to their allegiance.
West Brighton enters the 1880s
By 1882, West Brighton was proving to be a formidable force in its competition with Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach. Immense crowds to arrive at West Brighton that season, by train every fifteen minutes, and by steamer every thirty minutes. In the daytime, Surf Avenue was a riot of color. American flags, red-white-and-blue bunting, and thousands of silk pennants gladdened the sight of those arriving. The two iron piers, Bauer's, Feltman’s, Sea Beach Palace, and a host of other establishments had long lines of people in front of them waiting to enter. Bands and orchestras contributed to the festive air with a Johann Strauss, Jr., waltz, a Sousa march, or a saucy piece by Offenbach. At night, Surf Avenue had a magical glow from gas and electric lights in colored globes along with Japanese lanterns. Thousands of couples thronged Coney's many ballrooms, while thousands of others engaged in the less strenuous activity of consuming the culinary delicacies in its numerous restaurants, or admired the talents of its cabaret performers between drinks.
By this time, West Brighton was expanding westward of Culver Plaza. Surf Avenue had been extended to West 17th Street in 1881, and it now reached Norton’s Point at the westernmost part of Coney Island with subsequent construction. Though Surf Avenue was an extension of the Concourse westward from Culver Plaza, it was at this time surfaced with gravel, unlike the Concourse, which was covered with asphalt all the way to Engeman's Ocean Hotel in Brighton. At the west end, things were still comparatively subdued, as Mike Norton's health was giving out, and, consequently, his hotel was boarded up.
The three competing sections of Coney Island were also becoming more interconnected overall. Around 1885, a railroad spur was constructed from the Brighton terminal to the west side of Cable's Hotel at Culver Plaza North. This rail connection, called the Sea View Railroad, ran at ground level and on steel bridges in marshy areas. A person could now travel by rail from the eastern to western tip of Coney Island by taking the Marine Railroad to the Manhattan Hotel, the shuttle to the Brighton Beach Hotel, the Sea View line to Culver Plaza North, and the Culver spur to Norton's Point.
Overall, the future looked bright for West Brighton, as Reverend Stockwell remarked in his 1884 book, ‘History of the Town of Gravesend’:
‘And thus our growth continues; and, we venture to say, that no village in Kings County can show a better record of material prosperity in the past few years, or brighter prospects for the future. With the great bridge [Brooklyn Bridge, 1870] uniting the two largest cities of America [New York and Brooklyn, actually largest and third-largest]… and the problem of rapid transit about to be solved; it is not rash to prophesy, for this part of Long Island [Brooklyn], at no distant day, a future which will far eclipse the wildest dreams of its most enthusiastic inhabitant.’
By 1882, West Brighton was proving to be a formidable force in its competition with Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach. Immense crowds to arrive at West Brighton that season, by train every fifteen minutes, and by steamer every thirty minutes. In the daytime, Surf Avenue was a riot of color. American flags, red-white-and-blue bunting, and thousands of silk pennants gladdened the sight of those arriving. The two iron piers, Bauer's, Feltman’s, Sea Beach Palace, and a host of other establishments had long lines of people in front of them waiting to enter. Bands and orchestras contributed to the festive air with a Johann Strauss, Jr., waltz, a Sousa march, or a saucy piece by Offenbach. At night, Surf Avenue had a magical glow from gas and electric lights in colored globes along with Japanese lanterns. Thousands of couples thronged Coney's many ballrooms, while thousands of others engaged in the less strenuous activity of consuming the culinary delicacies in its numerous restaurants, or admired the talents of its cabaret performers between drinks.
By this time, West Brighton was expanding westward of Culver Plaza. Surf Avenue had been extended to West 17th Street in 1881, and it now reached Norton’s Point at the westernmost part of Coney Island with subsequent construction. Though Surf Avenue was an extension of the Concourse westward from Culver Plaza, it was at this time surfaced with gravel, unlike the Concourse, which was covered with asphalt all the way to Engeman's Ocean Hotel in Brighton. At the west end, things were still comparatively subdued, as Mike Norton's health was giving out, and, consequently, his hotel was boarded up.
The three competing sections of Coney Island were also becoming more interconnected overall. Around 1885, a railroad spur was constructed from the Brighton terminal to the west side of Cable's Hotel at Culver Plaza North. This rail connection, called the Sea View Railroad, ran at ground level and on steel bridges in marshy areas. A person could now travel by rail from the eastern to western tip of Coney Island by taking the Marine Railroad to the Manhattan Hotel, the shuttle to the Brighton Beach Hotel, the Sea View line to Culver Plaza North, and the Culver spur to Norton's Point.
Overall, the future looked bright for West Brighton, as Reverend Stockwell remarked in his 1884 book, ‘History of the Town of Gravesend’:
‘And thus our growth continues; and, we venture to say, that no village in Kings County can show a better record of material prosperity in the past few years, or brighter prospects for the future. With the great bridge [Brooklyn Bridge, 1870] uniting the two largest cities of America [New York and Brooklyn, actually largest and third-largest]… and the problem of rapid transit about to be solved; it is not rash to prophesy, for this part of Long Island [Brooklyn], at no distant day, a future which will far eclipse the wildest dreams of its most enthusiastic inhabitant.’
The Case for 'Reform' at West Brighton (1884-1885)
West Brighton had come a long ways, but was also experiencing some growing pains. Some of the shady characters that historically inhabited Norton's Point on the western tip of Coney Island seemed to have heard about how nice things were at West Brighton, and had started showing up and bringing their bad habits with them. Locals were starting to get irritated because it was driving away the better element of society and their fatter pocketbooks. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle provided an update on the situation as of late 1885:
'West Brighton, like little Sally Waters, is sitting in the sand crying and weeping, and the reason that she is crying and weeping is that she has been beautifully slapped in the face during the past two seasons by the respectable people of New York and Brooklyn.'
Conditions were so seedy in certain areas that normal people were turning into vigilantes. Jolly good Paul Bauer finally cracked one night and set out to take matters into his own hands:
The condition of my surroundings is so bad that I am going to stay down here this winter and rip and tear right and left among the shanties and dens.... I have invested an immense amount of money here and I cannot afford to let my place by hurt by the low dens established in the neighborhood. I have kept quiet long enough and I am not going to keep quiet any longer. I will go for every nuisance I see about here, and there are plenty of them, and if any man sees a nuisance on my place, I hope he will come right to me and speak about it'.
Perhaps Bauer should have talked with his father-in-law, Police Chief John McKane. The latter, clearly a born politician, had a more interesting take on the situation and his own job performance: '[West Brighton] is far superior this year to what it was last, as regards the absence of crime'. Still, even he admitted, 'I don't mean to say West Brighton is an ideal place, by any means'.
As unsavory as West Brighton's Bowery section may have been to the reform types, it was almost respectable when compared with the notorious Gut. This area was mainly along Neptune Avenue, between West 1st and West 3rd Streets, also in West Brighton. Congregating in the dives there were derelicts, sodden drunks, thugs, drug addicts, and psychotics. Robbery, mayhem, and murder were frequent occurrences. While McKane had a good bit of control over what went on in the Bowery, he had no control over the Gut, and assigned police to seal off this infestation from the law-abiding crowds and families coming to the beach.
Some claimed the situation was so out of hand that the City of Brooklyn should seize control of West Brighton from Gravesend. The area was too significant as a public resort to let it be mangled in such a way, proponents said. Manhattan Beach's Corbin generously offered to help make it into a discounted version of Manhattan Beach. General Jourdan at Brighton Beach, meanwhile, offered his services as well. One could argue that the able General already had his hands full, trying to get his own resort back out of bankruptcy. After all, an astute student of history might even argue that this gutter of a place called West Brighton had helped put Brighton Beach there.
West Brighton had come a long ways, but was also experiencing some growing pains. Some of the shady characters that historically inhabited Norton's Point on the western tip of Coney Island seemed to have heard about how nice things were at West Brighton, and had started showing up and bringing their bad habits with them. Locals were starting to get irritated because it was driving away the better element of society and their fatter pocketbooks. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle provided an update on the situation as of late 1885:
'West Brighton, like little Sally Waters, is sitting in the sand crying and weeping, and the reason that she is crying and weeping is that she has been beautifully slapped in the face during the past two seasons by the respectable people of New York and Brooklyn.'
Conditions were so seedy in certain areas that normal people were turning into vigilantes. Jolly good Paul Bauer finally cracked one night and set out to take matters into his own hands:
The condition of my surroundings is so bad that I am going to stay down here this winter and rip and tear right and left among the shanties and dens.... I have invested an immense amount of money here and I cannot afford to let my place by hurt by the low dens established in the neighborhood. I have kept quiet long enough and I am not going to keep quiet any longer. I will go for every nuisance I see about here, and there are plenty of them, and if any man sees a nuisance on my place, I hope he will come right to me and speak about it'.
Perhaps Bauer should have talked with his father-in-law, Police Chief John McKane. The latter, clearly a born politician, had a more interesting take on the situation and his own job performance: '[West Brighton] is far superior this year to what it was last, as regards the absence of crime'. Still, even he admitted, 'I don't mean to say West Brighton is an ideal place, by any means'.
As unsavory as West Brighton's Bowery section may have been to the reform types, it was almost respectable when compared with the notorious Gut. This area was mainly along Neptune Avenue, between West 1st and West 3rd Streets, also in West Brighton. Congregating in the dives there were derelicts, sodden drunks, thugs, drug addicts, and psychotics. Robbery, mayhem, and murder were frequent occurrences. While McKane had a good bit of control over what went on in the Bowery, he had no control over the Gut, and assigned police to seal off this infestation from the law-abiding crowds and families coming to the beach.
Some claimed the situation was so out of hand that the City of Brooklyn should seize control of West Brighton from Gravesend. The area was too significant as a public resort to let it be mangled in such a way, proponents said. Manhattan Beach's Corbin generously offered to help make it into a discounted version of Manhattan Beach. General Jourdan at Brighton Beach, meanwhile, offered his services as well. One could argue that the able General already had his hands full, trying to get his own resort back out of bankruptcy. After all, an astute student of history might even argue that this gutter of a place called West Brighton had helped put Brighton Beach there.

L.A. Thompson Invents the Modern Roller Coaster (1884)
What made West Brighton popular, in spite of its growing pains, was the variety and novelty of entertainment offered. Simply put, it encouraged entrepreneurship. Anything was acceptable as long as rents were paid and things didn't get too out of hand. Many businesses failed, but the ones that worked, worked very well.
Case in point, in 1884, LaMarcus Adna Thompson invented the modern roller coaster. He did not erect it at Manhattan Beach, nor at Brighton Beach. He erected it on the eastern side of Sea Beach Palace. Called the Switchback Railway, it was a simple, slow-moving ride, but nonetheless proved to be a hit. His L.A. Thompson Scenic Railway Company would eventually build dozens of rides throughout the United States over the next three decades. Thompson’s successful foray began West Brighton’s gradual transformation from a seaside resort into the amusement capital of the world.
Lafferty's Elephant Hotel (1885) and Shaw's Channel Chute (1889)
Less financially successful than Thompson’s roller coaster, but every bit as creative and well-known at the time, was Lafferty’s Elephant Hotel. Built in 1885 on the western side of Sea Beach Palace, it was a massive wooden elephant and one of the tallest structures at Coney Island at approximately twelve stories tall. Another entrepreneur, Lorenzo Shaw, decided it would be a good idea to loop a roller coaster looped around the entire elephant as well, which he did in 1889. Boss McKane clearly had progressive views when it came to zoning regulations.
What made West Brighton popular, in spite of its growing pains, was the variety and novelty of entertainment offered. Simply put, it encouraged entrepreneurship. Anything was acceptable as long as rents were paid and things didn't get too out of hand. Many businesses failed, but the ones that worked, worked very well.
Case in point, in 1884, LaMarcus Adna Thompson invented the modern roller coaster. He did not erect it at Manhattan Beach, nor at Brighton Beach. He erected it on the eastern side of Sea Beach Palace. Called the Switchback Railway, it was a simple, slow-moving ride, but nonetheless proved to be a hit. His L.A. Thompson Scenic Railway Company would eventually build dozens of rides throughout the United States over the next three decades. Thompson’s successful foray began West Brighton’s gradual transformation from a seaside resort into the amusement capital of the world.
Lafferty's Elephant Hotel (1885) and Shaw's Channel Chute (1889)
Less financially successful than Thompson’s roller coaster, but every bit as creative and well-known at the time, was Lafferty’s Elephant Hotel. Built in 1885 on the western side of Sea Beach Palace, it was a massive wooden elephant and one of the tallest structures at Coney Island at approximately twelve stories tall. Another entrepreneur, Lorenzo Shaw, decided it would be a good idea to loop a roller coaster looped around the entire elephant as well, which he did in 1889. Boss McKane clearly had progressive views when it came to zoning regulations.
The Sad Demise of Paul Bauer (1885-1889)
During a time when things should have been going well, Paul Bauer’s fortunes sadly took a turn for the worse. John McKane had rigged the Gravesend voting in the 1884 Presidential Election and this had resulted in the Democratic candidate Grover CleveIand winning the presidency. Enraged Republicans struck back at McKane in March of 1885 by arresting Bauer on charges of allowing gambling in his West Brighton Hotel.
Bauer insisted that he knew nothing of the bookmaking operations, but the judge ruled that as proprietor, Bauer was responsible for violations of the law within his establishment. Bauer was an inoffensive man who had taken great pride in his beautiful hotel, and was a genial host to everyone who came there. Unfortunately, he was caught in the middle of a political vendetta.
Bauer pled guilty on the advice of his counsel, who assured him that if he did so, he would get off merely with a fine. Instead, Bauer drew a three month prison sentence. His attorney, Jere Wernberg, used a creative strategy, albeit bizarre, to get the judge’s decision tossed on a technicality. Wernberg showed that the sentence violated Section 351 of the Penal Code, which specified that the sentence for gambling was one year in prison, not three months. Bauer was released, on bail – one of his bondsmen was the brewer, Jacob Ruppert – while the case was appealed to a higher court, which eventually ruled that the judge had the option of imposing any sentence up to a year. Thus, Bauer had to serve three months.
In 1887, Bauer was committed to a mental institution, where he died two years later. Some of his friends said that he had become deranged because of the humiliation of his prison sentence. Others claimed that his mind had given way under the pressure of debts and fear of bankruptcy.
During a time when things should have been going well, Paul Bauer’s fortunes sadly took a turn for the worse. John McKane had rigged the Gravesend voting in the 1884 Presidential Election and this had resulted in the Democratic candidate Grover CleveIand winning the presidency. Enraged Republicans struck back at McKane in March of 1885 by arresting Bauer on charges of allowing gambling in his West Brighton Hotel.
Bauer insisted that he knew nothing of the bookmaking operations, but the judge ruled that as proprietor, Bauer was responsible for violations of the law within his establishment. Bauer was an inoffensive man who had taken great pride in his beautiful hotel, and was a genial host to everyone who came there. Unfortunately, he was caught in the middle of a political vendetta.
Bauer pled guilty on the advice of his counsel, who assured him that if he did so, he would get off merely with a fine. Instead, Bauer drew a three month prison sentence. His attorney, Jere Wernberg, used a creative strategy, albeit bizarre, to get the judge’s decision tossed on a technicality. Wernberg showed that the sentence violated Section 351 of the Penal Code, which specified that the sentence for gambling was one year in prison, not three months. Bauer was released, on bail – one of his bondsmen was the brewer, Jacob Ruppert – while the case was appealed to a higher court, which eventually ruled that the judge had the option of imposing any sentence up to a year. Thus, Bauer had to serve three months.
In 1887, Bauer was committed to a mental institution, where he died two years later. Some of his friends said that he had become deranged because of the humiliation of his prison sentence. Others claimed that his mind had given way under the pressure of debts and fear of bankruptcy.

West Brighton enters the 1890s
The 1890s were the beginning of the modern age as electricity progressed from a source of light to one of power. Trolley cars, powered by electricity from elevated cables, made their appearance about this time. Cars had not yet been perfected, and their engines sounded like machine gun fire, sending many a horse fleeing in fright.
Sideless trolleys were put in service to the beach during hot weather. Each trolley had a motorman and a conductor who collected the fare by walking along a runningboard on the side of the car. Inside, passengers sat in rows facing forward. On summer weekends, the trolley was so crowded with people going to the beach that the running-board was jammed with standees. Conductors would display remarkable feats of agility by moving along the running-board, outside the standees, to collect fares while the car was in motion.
In 1893, the Gunther Line gave up its franchise to a trolley line powered by overhead electric cables, but other railroad trains to Coney Island continued operating on steam power until about the turn of the century. Steam-powered trains are very picturesque to observe and nice to listen to, but riding behind one while going through a tunnel was an experience that would not to be missed. Dense smoke from the stacks would fill the cars behind the engine, leaving the passengers coughing and gasping for breath and on the point of asphyxiation as the train emerged from the tunnel.
The Development of Norton's Point into Sea Gate (1890)
In 1890, a consortium of wealthy men purchased Norton's Point and some adjoining land, of about 130 acres, and let it be known that it would build an exclusive resort that would consist of a hotel – where no intoxicating beverages would be sold – a music hall, a bathing pavilion, and two thousand cottage sites. These developers may have been less than thrilled by the Federal Government also establishing at Norton’s Point a lighthouse, which conveniently had a red-light flashing every ten seconds, and a bell that rang every fifteen seconds during fog.
In an almost unthinkable feat, roughly fifteen years later, this once-disreputable section of Coney's west end would rise to become an exclusive enclave for the wealthy.
The 1890s were the beginning of the modern age as electricity progressed from a source of light to one of power. Trolley cars, powered by electricity from elevated cables, made their appearance about this time. Cars had not yet been perfected, and their engines sounded like machine gun fire, sending many a horse fleeing in fright.
Sideless trolleys were put in service to the beach during hot weather. Each trolley had a motorman and a conductor who collected the fare by walking along a runningboard on the side of the car. Inside, passengers sat in rows facing forward. On summer weekends, the trolley was so crowded with people going to the beach that the running-board was jammed with standees. Conductors would display remarkable feats of agility by moving along the running-board, outside the standees, to collect fares while the car was in motion.
In 1893, the Gunther Line gave up its franchise to a trolley line powered by overhead electric cables, but other railroad trains to Coney Island continued operating on steam power until about the turn of the century. Steam-powered trains are very picturesque to observe and nice to listen to, but riding behind one while going through a tunnel was an experience that would not to be missed. Dense smoke from the stacks would fill the cars behind the engine, leaving the passengers coughing and gasping for breath and on the point of asphyxiation as the train emerged from the tunnel.
The Development of Norton's Point into Sea Gate (1890)
In 1890, a consortium of wealthy men purchased Norton's Point and some adjoining land, of about 130 acres, and let it be known that it would build an exclusive resort that would consist of a hotel – where no intoxicating beverages would be sold – a music hall, a bathing pavilion, and two thousand cottage sites. These developers may have been less than thrilled by the Federal Government also establishing at Norton’s Point a lighthouse, which conveniently had a red-light flashing every ten seconds, and a bell that rang every fifteen seconds during fog.
In an almost unthinkable feat, roughly fifteen years later, this once-disreputable section of Coney's west end would rise to become an exclusive enclave for the wealthy.

The Sea Beach Railroad brings Pain's Fireworks to West Brighton (1892)
At the end of the 1891 season in Coney Island, the Sea Beach Company executives were contemplating the creation of an amusement park in a large, barren section of their property northwest of their Sea Beach Palace, and north of the Elephant Hotel, where Luna Park was to be built twelve years later.
Before investing, the company wanted to see if the right show could draw the crowds away from Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach to West Brighton. At the time, the former two were formidable resorts and were drawing large, upscale crowds. The company decided to invest in a spectacular show for the season. The best-qualified showman for the job was Henry J. Pain, a famous pyrotechnics expert who had been putting on shows for Corbin at Manhattan Beach for some years. The mere mention that Pain's show would be at West Brighton for the 1892 season, instead of Manhattan Beach, would in theory draw immense crowds.
Pain had a season-to-season contract with Corbin at Manhattan Beach, whereby either could terminate it. Pain informed Corbin of the lucrative offer he had received from the Sea Beach people, but Corbin refused to match it, believing that Pain would not make the switch. Pain, perhaps so as not to lose future negotiating leverage with Corbin, went ahead and signed with the Sea Beach Company for the 1892 season. Corbin had to get a pyrotechnician named Brock for that season. Brock put on elaborate fireworks displays, but he was no showman like Pain.
With the opening of the 1892 season, on Decoration Day, the big event in Coney Island was Pain’s The Carnival of Venice at West Brighton. The centerpiece of Pain's presentation was a replica of the Plaza San Marco in Venice, with canals, and small bridges over them, flowing around the city. Audiences seated in stands across a lagoon watched hundreds of performers in native dress dancing and cavorting in the plaza. Gondolas would course along the canals, and troubadours would move through the crowds singing and playing mandolins. There would be affronts to ladies, some wearing black laced masks, leading their escorts to engage in sword-play with the offenders. One young lady would quarrel with her sweetheart, after catching him flirting with another, then, in a jealous rage, plunge a dagger into his chest, and fall weeping on his body. These were the typical vignettes that Pain would add to make his crowd scenes more interesting. Unlike his shows at Manhattan Beach, this one ended neither in a man-made nor natural disaster. The finale had a grand chorus at center stage, with dancers on the wings, followed by fireworks. After the performance, those in the audience who wished to take a gondola ride, with musical accompaniment, could do so, for an extra charge, of course.
The Tilyous were so impressed by Pain's Carnival of Venice that when they built their Steeplechase Park five years later, they had similar canals created on their grounds. They also added bridges over them, some of which were covered and called "kissing bridges," for the obvious purpose of attracting romantic couples.
The Sea Beach Railroad never ended up opening an amusement park itself on the site, instead leasing it to Paul Boyton a couple of years later for his Sea Lion Park. But most importantly, Pain's performances had shown the world that the crowds were not wedded to any specific part of Coney Island; they would go wherever the best entertainment was. In this battle, West Brighton certainly would prove to be the best positioned.
At the end of the 1891 season in Coney Island, the Sea Beach Company executives were contemplating the creation of an amusement park in a large, barren section of their property northwest of their Sea Beach Palace, and north of the Elephant Hotel, where Luna Park was to be built twelve years later.
Before investing, the company wanted to see if the right show could draw the crowds away from Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach to West Brighton. At the time, the former two were formidable resorts and were drawing large, upscale crowds. The company decided to invest in a spectacular show for the season. The best-qualified showman for the job was Henry J. Pain, a famous pyrotechnics expert who had been putting on shows for Corbin at Manhattan Beach for some years. The mere mention that Pain's show would be at West Brighton for the 1892 season, instead of Manhattan Beach, would in theory draw immense crowds.
Pain had a season-to-season contract with Corbin at Manhattan Beach, whereby either could terminate it. Pain informed Corbin of the lucrative offer he had received from the Sea Beach people, but Corbin refused to match it, believing that Pain would not make the switch. Pain, perhaps so as not to lose future negotiating leverage with Corbin, went ahead and signed with the Sea Beach Company for the 1892 season. Corbin had to get a pyrotechnician named Brock for that season. Brock put on elaborate fireworks displays, but he was no showman like Pain.
With the opening of the 1892 season, on Decoration Day, the big event in Coney Island was Pain’s The Carnival of Venice at West Brighton. The centerpiece of Pain's presentation was a replica of the Plaza San Marco in Venice, with canals, and small bridges over them, flowing around the city. Audiences seated in stands across a lagoon watched hundreds of performers in native dress dancing and cavorting in the plaza. Gondolas would course along the canals, and troubadours would move through the crowds singing and playing mandolins. There would be affronts to ladies, some wearing black laced masks, leading their escorts to engage in sword-play with the offenders. One young lady would quarrel with her sweetheart, after catching him flirting with another, then, in a jealous rage, plunge a dagger into his chest, and fall weeping on his body. These were the typical vignettes that Pain would add to make his crowd scenes more interesting. Unlike his shows at Manhattan Beach, this one ended neither in a man-made nor natural disaster. The finale had a grand chorus at center stage, with dancers on the wings, followed by fireworks. After the performance, those in the audience who wished to take a gondola ride, with musical accompaniment, could do so, for an extra charge, of course.
The Tilyous were so impressed by Pain's Carnival of Venice that when they built their Steeplechase Park five years later, they had similar canals created on their grounds. They also added bridges over them, some of which were covered and called "kissing bridges," for the obvious purpose of attracting romantic couples.
The Sea Beach Railroad never ended up opening an amusement park itself on the site, instead leasing it to Paul Boyton a couple of years later for his Sea Lion Park. But most importantly, Pain's performances had shown the world that the crowds were not wedded to any specific part of Coney Island; they would go wherever the best entertainment was. In this battle, West Brighton certainly would prove to be the best positioned.
McKane's Coney Island Athletic Club (1892)
When Paul Bauer was institutionalized in 1887, John McKane took over the management of Bauer's Hotel and Casino. McKane succeeded in paying off Bauer’s creditors, perhaps by actually paying the debts, or perhaps by applying pressure to work out deals. A year later, in 1888, busy dealing with the politics of the presidential election that year, he rented out the properties to Mortiz and Aaron Hertzberg for $30,000 a year.
In the spring of 1892, McKane converted Bauer's Casino into a prize-fighting arena known initially as the Sea Side Athletic Club, and later as the Coney Island Athletic Club. This aroused the ire of the reform element and many politicians, albeit for very different reasons. Reformers opposed boxing because of its brutality and the gambling connected with it; the politicians opposed it because it drew away business from the fight arenas of Brooklyn and Manhattan, in which they and their gambling friends had financial interests.
Prize fighting, like gambling, was illegal, but amateur boxing was not. Officially, all the fights then in New York State were amateur bouts. The fighters, however, were certainly getting more than medals. But ostensibly, amateur boxing was being presented at the Coney Island Athletic Club solely for the purpose of instructing the viewers in the manly art of self-defense. This way, a proper gentleman could give a good account of himself if some street tough or barroom brawler sought to intimidate him. Those paying admission to McKane’s arena were, so to speak, students in a boxing academy learning to protect themselves. It was the same fiction as the one about the purpose of horse racing being to improve the breed.
Seven years later, on June 9, 1899, William Brady would hold the world boxing championship between James Jeffries and Bob Fitzsimmons at the Coney Island Athletic Club.
When Paul Bauer was institutionalized in 1887, John McKane took over the management of Bauer's Hotel and Casino. McKane succeeded in paying off Bauer’s creditors, perhaps by actually paying the debts, or perhaps by applying pressure to work out deals. A year later, in 1888, busy dealing with the politics of the presidential election that year, he rented out the properties to Mortiz and Aaron Hertzberg for $30,000 a year.
In the spring of 1892, McKane converted Bauer's Casino into a prize-fighting arena known initially as the Sea Side Athletic Club, and later as the Coney Island Athletic Club. This aroused the ire of the reform element and many politicians, albeit for very different reasons. Reformers opposed boxing because of its brutality and the gambling connected with it; the politicians opposed it because it drew away business from the fight arenas of Brooklyn and Manhattan, in which they and their gambling friends had financial interests.
Prize fighting, like gambling, was illegal, but amateur boxing was not. Officially, all the fights then in New York State were amateur bouts. The fighters, however, were certainly getting more than medals. But ostensibly, amateur boxing was being presented at the Coney Island Athletic Club solely for the purpose of instructing the viewers in the manly art of self-defense. This way, a proper gentleman could give a good account of himself if some street tough or barroom brawler sought to intimidate him. Those paying admission to McKane’s arena were, so to speak, students in a boxing academy learning to protect themselves. It was the same fiction as the one about the purpose of horse racing being to improve the breed.
Seven years later, on June 9, 1899, William Brady would hold the world boxing championship between James Jeffries and Bob Fitzsimmons at the Coney Island Athletic Club.

The Fire and Hurricane of 1893
Coney Island on Friday night, January 6, 1893, had a forlorn, wintry appearance, but it would look much worse before the night was out. It would also serve as an example of why McKane’s construction company was also so busy rebuilding the wooden structures at West Brighton.
At the east end, all the buildings in Manhattan Beach were dark and boarded up, and the grounds there were patrolled by caretakers with dogs. The Brighton Hotel to the west was partially open, with some people at the bar and in a sandwich shop, but virtually no check-ins.
On the east side of the Culver depot in West Brighton, the Vanderveer Hotel was open, its few patrons being served by the owners, who resided on the premises. Bauer's West Brighton Hotel, recently renamed the West End Hotel, was closed. There were some bars open in the Bowery, as were a few stores along Surf Avenue, including Albert Chambers' drugstore, which was also the local post office, and where the best ice cream sodas in town were served.
‘Doc’ Chambers, as he was called, went visiting with his wife that evening, leaving the store in the care of an employee. Somehow, a fire broke out. The clerk tried to extinguish the flames, but being unable to do so, ran to the fire station nearby, at West 8th Street. By the time that the firemen arrived, the flames were igniting chemicals in the store, turning the building into a torch. A brisk wind blowing from the west spread the fire to other structures as far as West 5th Street, beyond which there was nothing but open beach.
The West Brighton Hotel, all the buildings in Culver Plaza South, and Balmer's Bathing Pavilion (formerly Vanderveer's Bathing Pavilion) were totally destroyed. The steel observation tower at Culver Plaza South was unaffected, but the wooden floor of the elevator car was scorched. The Coney Island Athletic Club building, formerly Bauer’s Casino, being on the southwest of the West Brighton Hotel, and out of the path of the flames, was not damaged. Balmer's Pavilion was rebuilt, but the West Brighton Hotel was not.
The fire was followed by a hurricane on Thursday, August 24, 1893, which was described by a few of Coney Island's old-timers as the worst in fifty years. Waves thirty feet high rolled in for great distances, and, in some places, joined the water of the overflowing Coney Island Creek. Several hundred small structures along the beach were either blown down, washed out to sea, or carried inland to new locations. Balmer's Bathing Pavilion, Hotel and Restaurant were one again Mother Nature’s whipping boys; having been rebuilt for the season after their destruction by fire earlier in the year, they were again totally demolished by wave and wind.
On Ocean Parkway, the Catholic Church of the Guardian Angel facing Oceanview Avenue, had its steeple blown down. It was never replaced, and the church's bell now rings from a kiosk at ground level.
Coney Island on Friday night, January 6, 1893, had a forlorn, wintry appearance, but it would look much worse before the night was out. It would also serve as an example of why McKane’s construction company was also so busy rebuilding the wooden structures at West Brighton.
At the east end, all the buildings in Manhattan Beach were dark and boarded up, and the grounds there were patrolled by caretakers with dogs. The Brighton Hotel to the west was partially open, with some people at the bar and in a sandwich shop, but virtually no check-ins.
On the east side of the Culver depot in West Brighton, the Vanderveer Hotel was open, its few patrons being served by the owners, who resided on the premises. Bauer's West Brighton Hotel, recently renamed the West End Hotel, was closed. There were some bars open in the Bowery, as were a few stores along Surf Avenue, including Albert Chambers' drugstore, which was also the local post office, and where the best ice cream sodas in town were served.
‘Doc’ Chambers, as he was called, went visiting with his wife that evening, leaving the store in the care of an employee. Somehow, a fire broke out. The clerk tried to extinguish the flames, but being unable to do so, ran to the fire station nearby, at West 8th Street. By the time that the firemen arrived, the flames were igniting chemicals in the store, turning the building into a torch. A brisk wind blowing from the west spread the fire to other structures as far as West 5th Street, beyond which there was nothing but open beach.
The West Brighton Hotel, all the buildings in Culver Plaza South, and Balmer's Bathing Pavilion (formerly Vanderveer's Bathing Pavilion) were totally destroyed. The steel observation tower at Culver Plaza South was unaffected, but the wooden floor of the elevator car was scorched. The Coney Island Athletic Club building, formerly Bauer’s Casino, being on the southwest of the West Brighton Hotel, and out of the path of the flames, was not damaged. Balmer's Pavilion was rebuilt, but the West Brighton Hotel was not.
The fire was followed by a hurricane on Thursday, August 24, 1893, which was described by a few of Coney Island's old-timers as the worst in fifty years. Waves thirty feet high rolled in for great distances, and, in some places, joined the water of the overflowing Coney Island Creek. Several hundred small structures along the beach were either blown down, washed out to sea, or carried inland to new locations. Balmer's Bathing Pavilion, Hotel and Restaurant were one again Mother Nature’s whipping boys; having been rebuilt for the season after their destruction by fire earlier in the year, they were again totally demolished by wave and wind.
On Ocean Parkway, the Catholic Church of the Guardian Angel facing Oceanview Avenue, had its steeple blown down. It was never replaced, and the church's bell now rings from a kiosk at ground level.

The Reformer Years (1894-Early 1900s)
In early 1894, McKane was sent to Sing Sing on a six-year prison term for rigging voting in the 1892 presidential election. No sooner had his cell doors clanged shut than the New York State Legislature took away the self-governance rights of Gravesend, and Gravesend was annexed to the City of Brooklyn. A swarm of blue blood Brooklynite soul-savers and reform politicians was in this way empowered to descend upon Coney Island in hot pursuit of the devil. They set out to give it a fanatical and thorough fumigation.
The Brooklyn reform politicians issued a number of decrees in 1894 that were akin to something out of a Puritan’s playbook from 17th Century Massachusetts. On Sundays, all music was banned except for religious tunes. This restriction applied even to carousels and the innocuous melodies of the organ grinders and their cute little uniformed monkeys. All dancing, whether theatrical or social, was also banned on Sundays. No alcohol could be served on Sundays, and bars to be closed altogether that day. All forms of gambling were prohibited, not only on Sunday, but on every other day. Pari-mutuel betting was permitted by law at the racetracks every day except Sunday, and the reformers began to pressure the State Legislature and the courts to abolish such gambling as well.
This being the era of the six day work week, Sundays were the only day when people were free to spend the entire day at the beach. Hence, they were to be denied access to the simple pleasures of life being offered by the owners of bars, restaurants, concert halls, hotels and theatres.
There were also threats by the reformers not to renew the licenses of bars and concert halls when they expired. Until then, they were to operate in full compliance with the law. Female performers were to be properly clad, and there were to be no indecencies either by word or gesture. Entertainers were forbidden from mingling with customers and from standing at the entrance to entice passersby.
Saloon keepers were devastated by the Sunday closings. Some mocked the new ordinance by hanging signs at the entrance, reading, ‘Closed for Gospel Meeting', and some decided to get around the restriction by leaving a side door open on Sunday. There was no law against a friend of the owner or bartender coming in to have a private, sociable drink. After a time, many such 'friends' began to turn up. Some audacious bar owners hung out such signs as, 'Inward, Christian Soldier'.
All the respectable restauranteurs and hotel owners protested to the authorities against the prohibition of alcoholic beverages being served with a meal. A stein or two of beer was as much a part of dining as the main course. Pressure began to build from many quarters against the severity of the new ordinances. Finally, it was agreed that liquor might be sold on Sunday if it were served with food at a table. All the saloon-keepers set up tables and chairs, placed plates of pretzels, crackers, and cheese on the tables, and went back into business on Sundays. Some, to be completely on the safe side of the law, installed gas-heated grills to serve sausages with the drinks, hence, ‘bar and grill’.
McKane's Coney Island Athletic Club had been closed over the objections of a lessee, who took the matter to court. When the case came before the State Supreme Court, Judge Gaynor, who had had his famous run-in with McKane during the 1892 election, surprised everyone by ruling in favor of the plaintiff, and ordered Mayor Schieren to allow the club to reopen. If the plaintiff obeyed the law, he should be permitted to operate. If he disobeyed the law, he should be prosecuted. The moralists were incensed at Gaynor for permitting boxing to continue in Coney Island. Arguments that boxing sometimes resulted in death to the participants brought the response that this also happened to polo players – a specious argument, for fighters were deliberately trying to inflict harm on each other, whereas polo players were not. Apparently, Gaynor still had a soft spot for his old stomping ground.
The reformers were particularly frustrated in their efforts to close the brothels, for as quickly as the police shut one, another would open elsewhere in Coney Island, The do-gooders established a Home for Wayward Girls, and no sooner were the girls brought in through the front door, than they clambered out through the windows, and went back into business.
In spite of the reformers’ best efforts, Coney Island continued to thrive. On July 4, 1894, an estimated 400,000 people visited Coney Island; a remarkable figure, considering that there was no inexpensive mass transit system then. Crowds at West Brighton were by now far exceeded in numbers those patronizing Brighton and Manhattan Beaches. West Brighton’s hotels, restaurants and the two iron piers were filled to capacity.
In early 1894, McKane was sent to Sing Sing on a six-year prison term for rigging voting in the 1892 presidential election. No sooner had his cell doors clanged shut than the New York State Legislature took away the self-governance rights of Gravesend, and Gravesend was annexed to the City of Brooklyn. A swarm of blue blood Brooklynite soul-savers and reform politicians was in this way empowered to descend upon Coney Island in hot pursuit of the devil. They set out to give it a fanatical and thorough fumigation.
The Brooklyn reform politicians issued a number of decrees in 1894 that were akin to something out of a Puritan’s playbook from 17th Century Massachusetts. On Sundays, all music was banned except for religious tunes. This restriction applied even to carousels and the innocuous melodies of the organ grinders and their cute little uniformed monkeys. All dancing, whether theatrical or social, was also banned on Sundays. No alcohol could be served on Sundays, and bars to be closed altogether that day. All forms of gambling were prohibited, not only on Sunday, but on every other day. Pari-mutuel betting was permitted by law at the racetracks every day except Sunday, and the reformers began to pressure the State Legislature and the courts to abolish such gambling as well.
This being the era of the six day work week, Sundays were the only day when people were free to spend the entire day at the beach. Hence, they were to be denied access to the simple pleasures of life being offered by the owners of bars, restaurants, concert halls, hotels and theatres.
There were also threats by the reformers not to renew the licenses of bars and concert halls when they expired. Until then, they were to operate in full compliance with the law. Female performers were to be properly clad, and there were to be no indecencies either by word or gesture. Entertainers were forbidden from mingling with customers and from standing at the entrance to entice passersby.
Saloon keepers were devastated by the Sunday closings. Some mocked the new ordinance by hanging signs at the entrance, reading, ‘Closed for Gospel Meeting', and some decided to get around the restriction by leaving a side door open on Sunday. There was no law against a friend of the owner or bartender coming in to have a private, sociable drink. After a time, many such 'friends' began to turn up. Some audacious bar owners hung out such signs as, 'Inward, Christian Soldier'.
All the respectable restauranteurs and hotel owners protested to the authorities against the prohibition of alcoholic beverages being served with a meal. A stein or two of beer was as much a part of dining as the main course. Pressure began to build from many quarters against the severity of the new ordinances. Finally, it was agreed that liquor might be sold on Sunday if it were served with food at a table. All the saloon-keepers set up tables and chairs, placed plates of pretzels, crackers, and cheese on the tables, and went back into business on Sundays. Some, to be completely on the safe side of the law, installed gas-heated grills to serve sausages with the drinks, hence, ‘bar and grill’.
McKane's Coney Island Athletic Club had been closed over the objections of a lessee, who took the matter to court. When the case came before the State Supreme Court, Judge Gaynor, who had had his famous run-in with McKane during the 1892 election, surprised everyone by ruling in favor of the plaintiff, and ordered Mayor Schieren to allow the club to reopen. If the plaintiff obeyed the law, he should be permitted to operate. If he disobeyed the law, he should be prosecuted. The moralists were incensed at Gaynor for permitting boxing to continue in Coney Island. Arguments that boxing sometimes resulted in death to the participants brought the response that this also happened to polo players – a specious argument, for fighters were deliberately trying to inflict harm on each other, whereas polo players were not. Apparently, Gaynor still had a soft spot for his old stomping ground.
The reformers were particularly frustrated in their efforts to close the brothels, for as quickly as the police shut one, another would open elsewhere in Coney Island, The do-gooders established a Home for Wayward Girls, and no sooner were the girls brought in through the front door, than they clambered out through the windows, and went back into business.
In spite of the reformers’ best efforts, Coney Island continued to thrive. On July 4, 1894, an estimated 400,000 people visited Coney Island; a remarkable figure, considering that there was no inexpensive mass transit system then. Crowds at West Brighton were by now far exceeded in numbers those patronizing Brighton and Manhattan Beaches. West Brighton’s hotels, restaurants and the two iron piers were filled to capacity.

A Young Harry Houdini Performs at West Brighton (1894)
At the theatre in the Sea Beach Palace, or more likely at Vacca's West End Casino at the southeast corner of Ocean Avenue and Bushman's (see this detailed analysis), a sensational 20-year old performer, Harry Houdini, was flabbergasting audiences by his ability to slip out of handcuffs, straightjackets and padlocked boxes. Having worked as a locksmith and learning everything there was to know about the mechanisms of locks, Houdini devised tiny, tools to pick then. Though he was stripped and searched before being manacled, he usually had them concealed on his person, such as taping them to the soles of his feet.
But Harry could do more than pick locks. He could pass through solid brick walls. He had a metal frame, on wheels, over six feet high, into which had been built a brick wall. He had a small rug under the frame, and a screen was placed on each side of the wall, but not extending to the edges, so that he could not pass around them. He would get inside a screen on one side of the wall, and, when the screens were removed, he would be on the other side.
Some critics claimed that he rolled up the small rug and used a trapdoor to get to the other side. Others held that a section of the brick wall was fake, with the bricks being either hollow, or attached to some revolving device that permitted Houdini to crawl through.
Anticipating what the critics would say, Harry announced that on the following Saturday night, he would have a noted rug company bring one of their large rugs and spread it out under the frame. He would also have the Bricklayers Union send two of their men, with bricks, to build on the stage a wall within the frame.
On the specified evening, the house was sold out, including standing room. Harry had the bricklayers strike each brick with their trowels before setting it, so that the audience would hear that the bricks were not hollow. When the job was done, Harry invited some members of the audience to come on stage to witness the proceedings up close. Thus, with the bricked frame resting on a genuine rug, Harry took his place inside a screen covering one wall, while the other screen was put against the opposite side of the wall. The orchestra then struck up a tune, and when it was finished, the screens were removed, and Houdini was on the other side of the wall, amid a roar of applause. The cynics scratched their heads. He hadn't gone over the wall, or he would have been visible, nor around the wall, as he was closed in by the screen. He couldn't go under the wall, through a trapdoor, for the large rug prevented him from doing so. Therefore, he must have gone through the wall, a solid brick wall.
The bottom of the frame, being on wheels, was a few inches off the floor, not high enough for a person to slide under. Houdini’s clever magic was that if the trapdoor under the rug were opened, enough slack was created for a slick article like Harry Houdini to end up on the other side of the wall.
At the theatre in the Sea Beach Palace, or more likely at Vacca's West End Casino at the southeast corner of Ocean Avenue and Bushman's (see this detailed analysis), a sensational 20-year old performer, Harry Houdini, was flabbergasting audiences by his ability to slip out of handcuffs, straightjackets and padlocked boxes. Having worked as a locksmith and learning everything there was to know about the mechanisms of locks, Houdini devised tiny, tools to pick then. Though he was stripped and searched before being manacled, he usually had them concealed on his person, such as taping them to the soles of his feet.
But Harry could do more than pick locks. He could pass through solid brick walls. He had a metal frame, on wheels, over six feet high, into which had been built a brick wall. He had a small rug under the frame, and a screen was placed on each side of the wall, but not extending to the edges, so that he could not pass around them. He would get inside a screen on one side of the wall, and, when the screens were removed, he would be on the other side.
Some critics claimed that he rolled up the small rug and used a trapdoor to get to the other side. Others held that a section of the brick wall was fake, with the bricks being either hollow, or attached to some revolving device that permitted Houdini to crawl through.
Anticipating what the critics would say, Harry announced that on the following Saturday night, he would have a noted rug company bring one of their large rugs and spread it out under the frame. He would also have the Bricklayers Union send two of their men, with bricks, to build on the stage a wall within the frame.
On the specified evening, the house was sold out, including standing room. Harry had the bricklayers strike each brick with their trowels before setting it, so that the audience would hear that the bricks were not hollow. When the job was done, Harry invited some members of the audience to come on stage to witness the proceedings up close. Thus, with the bricked frame resting on a genuine rug, Harry took his place inside a screen covering one wall, while the other screen was put against the opposite side of the wall. The orchestra then struck up a tune, and when it was finished, the screens were removed, and Houdini was on the other side of the wall, amid a roar of applause. The cynics scratched their heads. He hadn't gone over the wall, or he would have been visible, nor around the wall, as he was closed in by the screen. He couldn't go under the wall, through a trapdoor, for the large rug prevented him from doing so. Therefore, he must have gone through the wall, a solid brick wall.
The bottom of the frame, being on wheels, was a few inches off the floor, not high enough for a person to slide under. Houdini’s clever magic was that if the trapdoor under the rug were opened, enough slack was created for a slick article like Harry Houdini to end up on the other side of the wall.
Paul Boyton's Sea Lion Park begins West Brighton's Amusements Transformation (1894)
Paul Boyton, a flamboyant aquatic daredevil, showman and explorer, turned up at Coney Island in 1894. He had recently developed a popular aquatic amusement ride known as the Shoot the Chute, in which passengers boarded a custom-designed rowboat at the top of a long, steep ramp and whisked down it at almost 80 miles per hour into a large lagoon.
On July 4, 1895, Boyton opened Sea Lion Park, the first modern, enclosed amusement park, to much fanfare. It was on the western side of Sea Beach Palace and just north of the Elephant Hotel and Shaw Channel Chute. Boyton's park showcased his Shoot the Chutes as its centerpiece and also offered many other shows as well as the Flip Flap Railway, the first looping roller coaster.
Boyton’s venture led to the creation of Steeplechase Park, which in turn drew more amusements to West Brighton. Sea Lion Park lasted through the 1902 season, at which point Luna Park bought it out.
Paul Boyton, a flamboyant aquatic daredevil, showman and explorer, turned up at Coney Island in 1894. He had recently developed a popular aquatic amusement ride known as the Shoot the Chute, in which passengers boarded a custom-designed rowboat at the top of a long, steep ramp and whisked down it at almost 80 miles per hour into a large lagoon.
On July 4, 1895, Boyton opened Sea Lion Park, the first modern, enclosed amusement park, to much fanfare. It was on the western side of Sea Beach Palace and just north of the Elephant Hotel and Shaw Channel Chute. Boyton's park showcased his Shoot the Chutes as its centerpiece and also offered many other shows as well as the Flip Flap Railway, the first looping roller coaster.
Boyton’s venture led to the creation of Steeplechase Park, which in turn drew more amusements to West Brighton. Sea Lion Park lasted through the 1902 season, at which point Luna Park bought it out.
The Fires of 1895 and Burning of the Elephant Hotel in 1896
On May 16, 1895, as Boyton’s Sea Lion Park was being constructed, a fire broke out near the shore at about West 10th Street. A wind from the west carried the flames northeastward to about West 8th Street, where the wind turned northward, blowing cinders across Surf Avenue and igniting several buildings there, including Ben Cohen's Albemarle Hotel, and Doyle's Annex – the original Cable's Hotel. The fires on the north side were extinguished before they could do much damage, but they had turned most of the south side, between West 10th and West 6th Streets, into ruins.
Fires were frequent in Coney Island and insurance rates were high, so few of the proprietors there could afford to be covered by fire insurance. On top of that, bar owners were prevented from recouping their losses by being hounded by reformers to keep their bars closed on Sundays. Those who had been burned out blamed the City of Brooklyn for failing to provide adequate fire protection. Prior to Gravesend's annexation to Brooklyn in 1894, such protection had been provided by volunteer fire companies, some of whose members, like Kenny Sutherland, were in prison. The city officials gave lack of funds as the reason for failing to set up fire stations in Coney Island, though there didn't seem to be any budgetary constraints in replacing McKane's police with those of Brooklyn. Reformers surely scowled that Bauer's Casino, now serving as the Sea Side Athletic Club, had been only lightly singed by the fire.
The following year, on September 27th, 1896, the Elephant Hotel and Shaw Channel Chute were destroyed by a fire. The hotel itself had not been used for some time, and neither was rebuilt. Eight years later, Thompson and Dundy would erect Luna Park’s Trip to the Moon ride where the Elephant Hotel had stood.
On May 16, 1895, as Boyton’s Sea Lion Park was being constructed, a fire broke out near the shore at about West 10th Street. A wind from the west carried the flames northeastward to about West 8th Street, where the wind turned northward, blowing cinders across Surf Avenue and igniting several buildings there, including Ben Cohen's Albemarle Hotel, and Doyle's Annex – the original Cable's Hotel. The fires on the north side were extinguished before they could do much damage, but they had turned most of the south side, between West 10th and West 6th Streets, into ruins.
Fires were frequent in Coney Island and insurance rates were high, so few of the proprietors there could afford to be covered by fire insurance. On top of that, bar owners were prevented from recouping their losses by being hounded by reformers to keep their bars closed on Sundays. Those who had been burned out blamed the City of Brooklyn for failing to provide adequate fire protection. Prior to Gravesend's annexation to Brooklyn in 1894, such protection had been provided by volunteer fire companies, some of whose members, like Kenny Sutherland, were in prison. The city officials gave lack of funds as the reason for failing to set up fire stations in Coney Island, though there didn't seem to be any budgetary constraints in replacing McKane's police with those of Brooklyn. Reformers surely scowled that Bauer's Casino, now serving as the Sea Side Athletic Club, had been only lightly singed by the fire.
The following year, on September 27th, 1896, the Elephant Hotel and Shaw Channel Chute were destroyed by a fire. The hotel itself had not been used for some time, and neither was rebuilt. Eight years later, Thompson and Dundy would erect Luna Park’s Trip to the Moon ride where the Elephant Hotel had stood.
Tilyou opens Steeplechase Park (1897)
The success of Boyton’s Sea Lion Park proved the viability of a standalone amusement park a business. Another leading amusement ride owner, George Tilyou, who had a Ferris wheel and other rides scattered throughout West Brighton, consolidated his amusements in 1897 into Steeplechase Park at West 16th Street. Steeplechase would be the longest-lived of Coney Island's parks, remaining open up until the 1970s.
West Brighton was now in the midst of a virtuous cycle in which the large number of visitors it attracted made it economically feasible for large-scale enterprises to invest significant amounts on the expectation of adequate future returns. This fueled even more visitor traffic, more transportation and West Brighton’s competitiveness versus numerous other resorts at the time.
The success of Boyton’s Sea Lion Park proved the viability of a standalone amusement park a business. Another leading amusement ride owner, George Tilyou, who had a Ferris wheel and other rides scattered throughout West Brighton, consolidated his amusements in 1897 into Steeplechase Park at West 16th Street. Steeplechase would be the longest-lived of Coney Island's parks, remaining open up until the 1970s.
West Brighton was now in the midst of a virtuous cycle in which the large number of visitors it attracted made it economically feasible for large-scale enterprises to invest significant amounts on the expectation of adequate future returns. This fueled even more visitor traffic, more transportation and West Brighton’s competitiveness versus numerous other resorts at the time.
Little Egypt, her assistant Fatima, and the Streets of Cairo (1897)
On the southeast corner of Surf Avenue and West 10th Street, an attraction called Streets of Cairo became the hit of 1897. The ‘streets’ consisted of some alleys made up to represent an oriental bazaar, and among its features were rides on camels, real camels. Along the alleys were shops selling trinkets of all sorts, One shop even claimed to have amulets that were thousands of years old, recovered from the tomb of an Egyptian princess in a place in Egypt mysteriously called Hoboken.
The boys traipsing along Surf Avenue were not so much interested in the exotic as in the erotic, so they flocked in to see Little Egypt, and her assistant, Fatima, perform in the Omar Khayyam Bar. Curvaceous Little Egypt treated the mostly male customers to an Oriental dance that was the talk of the town; this was New York’s first exposure to belly-dancing. Fatima’s contribution to the cultural scene was something later called ‘the shimmy’. Presently, these navel maneuvers came to the attention of the reformers, who unleashed the police on the proprietor of the Streets of Cairo, giving him the alternative of firing the girls, or closing down.
We do not know what became of Fatima, but the last heard of Little Egypt, the poor girl was hunched over a sewing machine in a Manhattan sweat-shop, far from the fresh air, sunshine, and plaudits of appreciative Coney audiences. For animal lovers more concerned about the fate of the camels of the Streets of Cairo, than about that of Little Egypt or Fatima, they will be pleased to learn that the dromedaries found a happy home two years later in Luna Park, where they earned their keep by carrying people who not only paid to ride on them, but to be photographed atop them. The camels were favored by the owners over elephants for that purpose because they ate less, even though they could become as ornery as a mule, when they felt that they were being overworked.
West Brighton Looks Ahead to the 1900s
Already during the early 1890s, Coney Island was beginning to show signs of evolving beyond the classic seaside resort trifecta of bathing, dining and concerts. Brighton Beach, Manhattan Beach and other popular oceanfront resorts relied on this traditional, decades-old business model. Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach were remarkable at what they did, but public tastes were gradually evolving. West Brighton, in spite of its humble origins as compared to its elite neighbors, was proving to be the best positioned to adapt to the changing times and to redefine Coney Island’s overall identity.
The fundamental advantage that West Brighton had over Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach was that it was not centrally planned by any single individual or company. Any entrepreneur with enough money could rent some land at West Brighton and start a business. This benefited smaller entrepreneurs who were willing to stake their futures on what sometimes appeared to be crazy ideas. McKane's view on the matter was clear, as stated in a late 1885 interview:
'West Brighton, as everybody knows, is a place which has been leased from year to year in lots to anybody who would bid the highest price for it. [T]he law governing the matter declared that they must let to the highest bidder at public auction, no matter who that bidder [is] or what his purpose, provided he did not make a public nuisance.'
Likewise, the Sea Beach Company was willing to rent the land it owned to some wild ventures as well. Some, like L.A. Thompson's scenic railway, were a huge success. Others, like Lafferty’s Elephant Hotel in 1885, were not, at least in the financial sense. Yet, all of this activity served to draw attention to the possibilities available in West Brighton versus the more carefully cultivated Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach.
By the late 1890s, West Brighton was firmly established as a thriving entertainment destination. Coney Island would survive Brooklyn’s relegation from city to just one of New York City’s boroughs on January 1, 1898, as well as another fierce storm on October 19, 1898, that predictably battered the unlucky Balmer’s Bathing Pavilion, waves punching in its oceanside wall. At least this time, Balmer’s was more fortunate than the 15-room hotel that had stood on piles a few feet offshore, which was lifted clean off of its foundation and carried out to sea.
The Transition of West Brighton from a Seaside Resort to Amusement Capital of the World (c. 1900-1920)
West Brighton was now entering a period of rapid change, so much so that by 1905, little of the original Culver Plaza would remain. The great amusement parks would soon arrive around Sea Beach Palace, as discussed below, shifting center of West Brighton several blocks west from Culver Plaza along Surf Avenue. In 1904, Dreamland would come to occupy parts of Culver Plaza South. Large independent amusement rides would occupy most of the rest. The Iron Tower that Culver had erected, which very soon be overshadowed by the taller Dreamland Tower, still stood proudly among dozens of amusement rides and new hotels, a testament both to West Brighton’s humble origins and the speed with which Coney Island had changed in such a short time. And with the banning of all forms of betting in New York in 1907, the race tracks at competing Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach would soon close, leaving West Brighton as the sole winner in the contest for supremacy of Coney Island.
On the southeast corner of Surf Avenue and West 10th Street, an attraction called Streets of Cairo became the hit of 1897. The ‘streets’ consisted of some alleys made up to represent an oriental bazaar, and among its features were rides on camels, real camels. Along the alleys were shops selling trinkets of all sorts, One shop even claimed to have amulets that were thousands of years old, recovered from the tomb of an Egyptian princess in a place in Egypt mysteriously called Hoboken.
The boys traipsing along Surf Avenue were not so much interested in the exotic as in the erotic, so they flocked in to see Little Egypt, and her assistant, Fatima, perform in the Omar Khayyam Bar. Curvaceous Little Egypt treated the mostly male customers to an Oriental dance that was the talk of the town; this was New York’s first exposure to belly-dancing. Fatima’s contribution to the cultural scene was something later called ‘the shimmy’. Presently, these navel maneuvers came to the attention of the reformers, who unleashed the police on the proprietor of the Streets of Cairo, giving him the alternative of firing the girls, or closing down.
We do not know what became of Fatima, but the last heard of Little Egypt, the poor girl was hunched over a sewing machine in a Manhattan sweat-shop, far from the fresh air, sunshine, and plaudits of appreciative Coney audiences. For animal lovers more concerned about the fate of the camels of the Streets of Cairo, than about that of Little Egypt or Fatima, they will be pleased to learn that the dromedaries found a happy home two years later in Luna Park, where they earned their keep by carrying people who not only paid to ride on them, but to be photographed atop them. The camels were favored by the owners over elephants for that purpose because they ate less, even though they could become as ornery as a mule, when they felt that they were being overworked.
West Brighton Looks Ahead to the 1900s
Already during the early 1890s, Coney Island was beginning to show signs of evolving beyond the classic seaside resort trifecta of bathing, dining and concerts. Brighton Beach, Manhattan Beach and other popular oceanfront resorts relied on this traditional, decades-old business model. Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach were remarkable at what they did, but public tastes were gradually evolving. West Brighton, in spite of its humble origins as compared to its elite neighbors, was proving to be the best positioned to adapt to the changing times and to redefine Coney Island’s overall identity.
The fundamental advantage that West Brighton had over Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach was that it was not centrally planned by any single individual or company. Any entrepreneur with enough money could rent some land at West Brighton and start a business. This benefited smaller entrepreneurs who were willing to stake their futures on what sometimes appeared to be crazy ideas. McKane's view on the matter was clear, as stated in a late 1885 interview:
'West Brighton, as everybody knows, is a place which has been leased from year to year in lots to anybody who would bid the highest price for it. [T]he law governing the matter declared that they must let to the highest bidder at public auction, no matter who that bidder [is] or what his purpose, provided he did not make a public nuisance.'
Likewise, the Sea Beach Company was willing to rent the land it owned to some wild ventures as well. Some, like L.A. Thompson's scenic railway, were a huge success. Others, like Lafferty’s Elephant Hotel in 1885, were not, at least in the financial sense. Yet, all of this activity served to draw attention to the possibilities available in West Brighton versus the more carefully cultivated Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach.
By the late 1890s, West Brighton was firmly established as a thriving entertainment destination. Coney Island would survive Brooklyn’s relegation from city to just one of New York City’s boroughs on January 1, 1898, as well as another fierce storm on October 19, 1898, that predictably battered the unlucky Balmer’s Bathing Pavilion, waves punching in its oceanside wall. At least this time, Balmer’s was more fortunate than the 15-room hotel that had stood on piles a few feet offshore, which was lifted clean off of its foundation and carried out to sea.
The Transition of West Brighton from a Seaside Resort to Amusement Capital of the World (c. 1900-1920)
West Brighton was now entering a period of rapid change, so much so that by 1905, little of the original Culver Plaza would remain. The great amusement parks would soon arrive around Sea Beach Palace, as discussed below, shifting center of West Brighton several blocks west from Culver Plaza along Surf Avenue. In 1904, Dreamland would come to occupy parts of Culver Plaza South. Large independent amusement rides would occupy most of the rest. The Iron Tower that Culver had erected, which very soon be overshadowed by the taller Dreamland Tower, still stood proudly among dozens of amusement rides and new hotels, a testament both to West Brighton’s humble origins and the speed with which Coney Island had changed in such a short time. And with the banning of all forms of betting in New York in 1907, the race tracks at competing Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach would soon close, leaving West Brighton as the sole winner in the contest for supremacy of Coney Island.
Sea Side Park, a.k.a. Seaside Park (1902)
Sea Side Park officially opened in 1902. The Seaside Aquarium, which had stood at the southwest corner of the park, had been demolished several years earlier, with very badly-needed public bathrooms taking its place. Sea Side Park was a rather basic park with some walking paths, but it was nonetheless popular with families looking to take a stroll.
Sea Side Park officially opened in 1902. The Seaside Aquarium, which had stood at the southwest corner of the park, had been demolished several years earlier, with very badly-needed public bathrooms taking its place. Sea Side Park was a rather basic park with some walking paths, but it was nonetheless popular with families looking to take a stroll.
Coney Island Emergency Hospital (1903)
In a sign of West Brighton's ongoing development, or perhaps as a result of the rides not being all too safe, a small hospital called the Coney Island Emergency Hospital was established in 1903 at Sea Breeze Avenue and West 1st Street, near the northeast end of Seaside Park. It supplemented the other hospitals in West Brighton, namely Reception Hospital and the Kings County Hospital. The latter was also on the north side of Sea Side Park.
The Great Amusement Parks Open at West Brighton (1903-1904)
West Brighton was already home to Steeplechase Park and numerous other roller coasters, cycloramas, carousels and attractions when the revolutionary Luna Park opened in 1903 on the prior site of Sea Lion Park. Dreamland followed the in 1904. These amusement parks drew millions of visitors to West Brighton and sparked a global amusement park boom that led to the constructions of dozens of Luna Park copycats. West Brighton’s transformation from a seaside resort to an amusements destination was now in full swing, and West Brighton was influencing Coney Island’s overall identity to a much greater degree than Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach.
In a sign of West Brighton's ongoing development, or perhaps as a result of the rides not being all too safe, a small hospital called the Coney Island Emergency Hospital was established in 1903 at Sea Breeze Avenue and West 1st Street, near the northeast end of Seaside Park. It supplemented the other hospitals in West Brighton, namely Reception Hospital and the Kings County Hospital. The latter was also on the north side of Sea Side Park.
The Great Amusement Parks Open at West Brighton (1903-1904)
West Brighton was already home to Steeplechase Park and numerous other roller coasters, cycloramas, carousels and attractions when the revolutionary Luna Park opened in 1903 on the prior site of Sea Lion Park. Dreamland followed the in 1904. These amusement parks drew millions of visitors to West Brighton and sparked a global amusement park boom that led to the constructions of dozens of Luna Park copycats. West Brighton’s transformation from a seaside resort to an amusements destination was now in full swing, and West Brighton was influencing Coney Island’s overall identity to a much greater degree than Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach.
The Independent Amusement Spectacles, Shows and Rides at West Brighton (c. 1900-1910)
In addition to the major amusement parks, dozens of independent shows and rollers coasters were erected by independent entrepreneurs at West Brighton in the first decade of the 1900s. Some of the better known spectacles and rides are described below. Many can be found on a 1905 map of West Brighton.
The Loop the Loop Roller Coaster (1901)
In 1901, the Streets of Cairo owner converted his West 10th Street corner along Surf Avenue to a novel ride that serves as a great example of West Brighton's evolution towards amusements. The innovative Loop the Loop roller coaster was the second roller coaster ever to take passengers in an upside-down loop, and the first to do so with the modern elliptical loop that did not crush its passengers under the g-forces of a perfectly circular loop. The Loop the Loop was popular and featured in many postcards of the era. It was also the first of the famous roller coasters to occupy this corner at West Brighton, eventually being replaced by a more conventional roller coaster, The Giant Racer, and eventually by the present Cyclone.
In addition to the major amusement parks, dozens of independent shows and rollers coasters were erected by independent entrepreneurs at West Brighton in the first decade of the 1900s. Some of the better known spectacles and rides are described below. Many can be found on a 1905 map of West Brighton.
The Loop the Loop Roller Coaster (1901)
In 1901, the Streets of Cairo owner converted his West 10th Street corner along Surf Avenue to a novel ride that serves as a great example of West Brighton's evolution towards amusements. The innovative Loop the Loop roller coaster was the second roller coaster ever to take passengers in an upside-down loop, and the first to do so with the modern elliptical loop that did not crush its passengers under the g-forces of a perfectly circular loop. The Loop the Loop was popular and featured in many postcards of the era. It was also the first of the famous roller coasters to occupy this corner at West Brighton, eventually being replaced by a more conventional roller coaster, The Giant Racer, and eventually by the present Cyclone.
Natural Disaster Spectacles: Galveston Flood Spectacle (1902), Johnstown Flood (1902-1905) and The Deluge (1906)
In 1902, a spectacle called the Galveston Flood made its way to the Brill Building at the southeast corner of Surf Avenue and West 6th Street in West Brighton. It had just been a major hit of the Pan American Exposition held in Buffalo, New York, in 1901.
Using electrical devices and miniatures, the show recreated the Galveston Flood disaster of September of 1900. Never mind that 6,000 people had just died from the flooding that accompanied a massive hurricane in Galveston, Texas. Edwardian audiences ate up these types of fire-and-brimstone spectacles in the era before television, and the Galveston Flood show lasted several years, until around 1906.
The Johnstown Flood was one of several similar shows that appeared about this time elsewhere in Coney Island. The Johnstown Flood was installed in a distinctive building at the corner of Surf Avenue and West 17th Street, across from Steeplechase Park. It dealt with the collapse of a dam in 1889, wiping out the town below it. The show was particularly popular and lasted from 1901 through the 1905 season.
The Deluge replaced the Johnstown Flood show for the 1906 season. It had even bigger aspirations than its predecessor, going straight to the story of Noah in the Bible and the flooding of the entire world. Its manager, Herbert Bradwell, co-owned the production with West Brighton notables Charles Feltman and Henry Grashorn. Bradwell advertised the show heavily and ran a promotion through major stores under which customers spending over one dollar would receive a free show ticket. The Deluge lasted through the end of the 1908 season. During its final season, many changes were made to the scenery and acts, including a spicy new finale in which earthquakes, floods and fires simultaneously destroyed the world. In October of 1908, the building was leased and converted into a boxing venue by Martin Julian, the brother-in-law of former world champion Bob Fitzsimmons. Julian had been a promoter of the former Coney Island Athletic Club alongside Brady and Alec Brown.
The reproduction of topical events, such as recent floods, was very successful at first, but diminished as 'moving pictures' showing the actual occurrences were beginning to appear. Theatres in Coney Island presenting vaudeville, such as the Brighton Music Hall, Henderson's Music Hall, and the Sea Beach Palace Theatre, began concluding their programs by showing moving pictures, the subjects of which were mainly news or travel items. Technology was beginning to change times and tastes. And for a while, the amusement industry at Coney Island was able to adapt with them.
Deep Rift Coal Mine (1902-1906)
The Deep Rift Coal Mine was a popular ride that went up around this time, in 1902. It was located on the east side of the entrance to the Sea Beach Palace, right on Surf Avenue, next to LaMarcus Thompson's Scenic Railway.
Passengers entered an elevator car, which would vibrate slightly as it descended down a 1,000-foot mine shaft. After about a minute, a slight bump and cessation of vibrations indicated that the bottom had been reached. A guide would open the door and direct the passengers to an empty coal car which would carry them through a dark tunnel, at the end of which were miners working on the face of a coal vein. After a few moments, the guide and passengers would be advised to return to the surface as explosives were set to blast loose some coal. The passengers would eagerly reenter the elevator. On the way up they would hear a muffled explosion, caused by a small firecracker. It was a clever illusory trip. The elevator only dropped about one foot in total, and passengers were always at street level. The tunnel itself was only a dark, winding maze of passageways, also above ground. These types of rides, recreating working conditions that city dwellers could not otherwise experience, were popular at the time. The Coal Mine was torn down around 1906 to make way for an elaborately decorated structure built by LaMarcus Thompson for his Scenic Railway, which would last into the 1920s.
Mont Pelee Show (1904)
On May 8, 1902, the Mont Pelee volcano erupted on the island of Martinique in the West Indies, killing 30,000 people in the town of St. Pierre. Naturally, a show reproducing the disaster was bound to delight Coney Island’s audiences in this era, who, for an admission charge of twenty-five cents, were fascinated with experiencing firsthand all of the sensational disasters they read about.
For the 1904 season, a theatre was built to house the Mont Pelee spectacle, at the southwest corner of Surf Avenue and West 5th Street. It was an oddly shaped structure, with its entrance between two narrow buildings, one about seven stories high, and the other four stories. The Mont Pelee show used electromechanical means to move around realistic miniatures and create explosions, similar to what was being done at the Galveston Flood show nearby.
The Mont Pelee show only lasted for the 1904 season, but the event itself and subsequent earthquakes over the next several years continued to capture the public’s attention. Frederic Thompson, one of Luna Park’s owners, traveled to Martinique to view the volcano and the ruins of St. Pierre, after which he presented his own version of the eruption and its terrible results.
New York to the North Pole Show (1905)
For the 1905 season, the Mont Pelee Theatre was converted to show New York to the North Pole. Efforts were then being made to reach the North Pole, and this attraction illustrated the dangers being encountered. The show lasted only one or two seasons.
In 1902, a spectacle called the Galveston Flood made its way to the Brill Building at the southeast corner of Surf Avenue and West 6th Street in West Brighton. It had just been a major hit of the Pan American Exposition held in Buffalo, New York, in 1901.
Using electrical devices and miniatures, the show recreated the Galveston Flood disaster of September of 1900. Never mind that 6,000 people had just died from the flooding that accompanied a massive hurricane in Galveston, Texas. Edwardian audiences ate up these types of fire-and-brimstone spectacles in the era before television, and the Galveston Flood show lasted several years, until around 1906.
The Johnstown Flood was one of several similar shows that appeared about this time elsewhere in Coney Island. The Johnstown Flood was installed in a distinctive building at the corner of Surf Avenue and West 17th Street, across from Steeplechase Park. It dealt with the collapse of a dam in 1889, wiping out the town below it. The show was particularly popular and lasted from 1901 through the 1905 season.
The Deluge replaced the Johnstown Flood show for the 1906 season. It had even bigger aspirations than its predecessor, going straight to the story of Noah in the Bible and the flooding of the entire world. Its manager, Herbert Bradwell, co-owned the production with West Brighton notables Charles Feltman and Henry Grashorn. Bradwell advertised the show heavily and ran a promotion through major stores under which customers spending over one dollar would receive a free show ticket. The Deluge lasted through the end of the 1908 season. During its final season, many changes were made to the scenery and acts, including a spicy new finale in which earthquakes, floods and fires simultaneously destroyed the world. In October of 1908, the building was leased and converted into a boxing venue by Martin Julian, the brother-in-law of former world champion Bob Fitzsimmons. Julian had been a promoter of the former Coney Island Athletic Club alongside Brady and Alec Brown.
The reproduction of topical events, such as recent floods, was very successful at first, but diminished as 'moving pictures' showing the actual occurrences were beginning to appear. Theatres in Coney Island presenting vaudeville, such as the Brighton Music Hall, Henderson's Music Hall, and the Sea Beach Palace Theatre, began concluding their programs by showing moving pictures, the subjects of which were mainly news or travel items. Technology was beginning to change times and tastes. And for a while, the amusement industry at Coney Island was able to adapt with them.
Deep Rift Coal Mine (1902-1906)
The Deep Rift Coal Mine was a popular ride that went up around this time, in 1902. It was located on the east side of the entrance to the Sea Beach Palace, right on Surf Avenue, next to LaMarcus Thompson's Scenic Railway.
Passengers entered an elevator car, which would vibrate slightly as it descended down a 1,000-foot mine shaft. After about a minute, a slight bump and cessation of vibrations indicated that the bottom had been reached. A guide would open the door and direct the passengers to an empty coal car which would carry them through a dark tunnel, at the end of which were miners working on the face of a coal vein. After a few moments, the guide and passengers would be advised to return to the surface as explosives were set to blast loose some coal. The passengers would eagerly reenter the elevator. On the way up they would hear a muffled explosion, caused by a small firecracker. It was a clever illusory trip. The elevator only dropped about one foot in total, and passengers were always at street level. The tunnel itself was only a dark, winding maze of passageways, also above ground. These types of rides, recreating working conditions that city dwellers could not otherwise experience, were popular at the time. The Coal Mine was torn down around 1906 to make way for an elaborately decorated structure built by LaMarcus Thompson for his Scenic Railway, which would last into the 1920s.
Mont Pelee Show (1904)
On May 8, 1902, the Mont Pelee volcano erupted on the island of Martinique in the West Indies, killing 30,000 people in the town of St. Pierre. Naturally, a show reproducing the disaster was bound to delight Coney Island’s audiences in this era, who, for an admission charge of twenty-five cents, were fascinated with experiencing firsthand all of the sensational disasters they read about.
For the 1904 season, a theatre was built to house the Mont Pelee spectacle, at the southwest corner of Surf Avenue and West 5th Street. It was an oddly shaped structure, with its entrance between two narrow buildings, one about seven stories high, and the other four stories. The Mont Pelee show used electromechanical means to move around realistic miniatures and create explosions, similar to what was being done at the Galveston Flood show nearby.
The Mont Pelee show only lasted for the 1904 season, but the event itself and subsequent earthquakes over the next several years continued to capture the public’s attention. Frederic Thompson, one of Luna Park’s owners, traveled to Martinique to view the volcano and the ruins of St. Pierre, after which he presented his own version of the eruption and its terrible results.
New York to the North Pole Show (1905)
For the 1905 season, the Mont Pelee Theatre was converted to show New York to the North Pole. Efforts were then being made to reach the North Pole, and this attraction illustrated the dangers being encountered. The show lasted only one or two seasons.
The Old Mill (1902), Rocky Road to Dublin (1906) and Ben Hur Racers (1908)
Standing next to each other along the north side of Surf Avenue, between West 8th and the Culver Depot (Brooklyn Rapid Transit station) to their east, were, from west to east, the Albemarle Hotel, Doyle's Annex and the Prospect Hotel. Recall that the original Cable's Hotel had been renamed Doyle's Annex after the new Cable's Hotel had been built, and that the new Cable's Hotel had subsequently changed its name to the Prospect Hotel. M. J. Rauscher took over the Albemarle Hotel after Ben Cohen died in 1905.
As transportation to Coney Island improved, fewer hotels and more amusement rides were needed. Around 1902, Doyle's Annex was gutted and replaced with a ride called the Old Mill. The Old Mill was a boat ride through darkened waterways, a favorite for young couples wanting to make out on dates, and is easily identified in photographs by the small windmill at its entrance. The Old Mill lasted a few years and was replaced by a roller coaster called the Rocky Road to Dublin in 1906. In 1908, the Albemarle Hotel was torn down and replaced by a dual-track roller scenic roller coaster with plenty of bumps called the Ben Hur Racers.
Standing next to each other along the north side of Surf Avenue, between West 8th and the Culver Depot (Brooklyn Rapid Transit station) to their east, were, from west to east, the Albemarle Hotel, Doyle's Annex and the Prospect Hotel. Recall that the original Cable's Hotel had been renamed Doyle's Annex after the new Cable's Hotel had been built, and that the new Cable's Hotel had subsequently changed its name to the Prospect Hotel. M. J. Rauscher took over the Albemarle Hotel after Ben Cohen died in 1905.
As transportation to Coney Island improved, fewer hotels and more amusement rides were needed. Around 1902, Doyle's Annex was gutted and replaced with a ride called the Old Mill. The Old Mill was a boat ride through darkened waterways, a favorite for young couples wanting to make out on dates, and is easily identified in photographs by the small windmill at its entrance. The Old Mill lasted a few years and was replaced by a roller coaster called the Rocky Road to Dublin in 1906. In 1908, the Albemarle Hotel was torn down and replaced by a dual-track roller scenic roller coaster with plenty of bumps called the Ben Hur Racers.
‘Doc’ Chambers and his Pharmacy (1890s-1919)
On the west side of the Mont Pelee building at West 5th Street was the entrance to Balmer's baths and restaurant; west of that was Chambers' Pharmacy, and to its west was the Galveston Flood building, at the corner of West 6th Street. Albert Chambers had relocated here after the fire of January, 1893, which started in his drug store near West 8th Street, and which destroyed Bauer's West Brighton Hotel. His pharmacy, which served also as a coffee shop and ice cream parlor, was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, all year long, except Christmas Day.
‘Doc’ Chambers was the man to see for aches and pains before going to a doctor, and he often provided medication that made such visits unnecessary. In McKane's time, ‘Doc’ had been head of the Volunteer Fire Department of Gravesend. At night, when all other establishments were closed, workers in the area who couldn't sleep for one reason or another would come to Chambers' drugstore for an ice cream soda, or coffee and cake, and to shoot the breeze with other insomniacs or with the employee on duty. This pharmacy also served as the local post office, and as a comfortable place in which to wait for a Culver line train arriving at the terminal across Surf Avenue. Chambers resided with his wife in an apartment above the store, and died there on August 29th, 1919.
The Annual Mardi Gras Festival at West Brighton
Around the turn of the century, the annual Mardi Gras was introduced into Coney Island. Like that New Orleans festival, it had floats and beauty queens. It took place a week after Labor Day, and drew immense crowds. In 1906, a quarter of a million people watched the proceedings, but, unfortunately, a considerable number of onlookers drank excessively, and sought to turn the celebration into bacchanalian revels. Women were molested by gangs of toughs, and street brawls and riots became a common occurrence. Respectable people demanded that the Mardi Gras be ended, but the proprietors needed the extra week of business at the end of the season, and suggested that the city add more police instead. The merchants prevailed, and the Mardi Gras concluded each season until the beginning of World War II, when it was discontinued. Just as this festival ended the season, the Flower Festival would begin the season on Decoration Day, with floral floats and pretty girls, but on such occasions there were no disturbances.
On the west side of the Mont Pelee building at West 5th Street was the entrance to Balmer's baths and restaurant; west of that was Chambers' Pharmacy, and to its west was the Galveston Flood building, at the corner of West 6th Street. Albert Chambers had relocated here after the fire of January, 1893, which started in his drug store near West 8th Street, and which destroyed Bauer's West Brighton Hotel. His pharmacy, which served also as a coffee shop and ice cream parlor, was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, all year long, except Christmas Day.
‘Doc’ Chambers was the man to see for aches and pains before going to a doctor, and he often provided medication that made such visits unnecessary. In McKane's time, ‘Doc’ had been head of the Volunteer Fire Department of Gravesend. At night, when all other establishments were closed, workers in the area who couldn't sleep for one reason or another would come to Chambers' drugstore for an ice cream soda, or coffee and cake, and to shoot the breeze with other insomniacs or with the employee on duty. This pharmacy also served as the local post office, and as a comfortable place in which to wait for a Culver line train arriving at the terminal across Surf Avenue. Chambers resided with his wife in an apartment above the store, and died there on August 29th, 1919.
The Annual Mardi Gras Festival at West Brighton
Around the turn of the century, the annual Mardi Gras was introduced into Coney Island. Like that New Orleans festival, it had floats and beauty queens. It took place a week after Labor Day, and drew immense crowds. In 1906, a quarter of a million people watched the proceedings, but, unfortunately, a considerable number of onlookers drank excessively, and sought to turn the celebration into bacchanalian revels. Women were molested by gangs of toughs, and street brawls and riots became a common occurrence. Respectable people demanded that the Mardi Gras be ended, but the proprietors needed the extra week of business at the end of the season, and suggested that the city add more police instead. The merchants prevailed, and the Mardi Gras concluded each season until the beginning of World War II, when it was discontinued. Just as this festival ended the season, the Flower Festival would begin the season on Decoration Day, with floral floats and pretty girls, but on such occasions there were no disturbances.
Culver Plaza: Culver Train Depot, Pabst Loop Hotel and Vanderveer Hotel (1908)
Across Surf Avenue from the Mont Pelee Theatre, the Vanderveer and Pabst Loop Hotels, and part of the Culver Depot, were destroyed by fire on July 9, 1908. The Pabst building had been constructed some years earlier on property owned by the Vanderveers. The railroad people acquired from the owners of the Pabst and Vanderveer Hotels parts of their properties in order to rebuild an enlarged depot. Both of the hotels were reconstructed on a smaller scale, and in brick.
The Dreamland Fire and the Closing of the Golden Age (1911, 1920s, 1930s)
West Brighton was still going strong when, on the eve of the opening day of the 1911 season, Dreamland burned to a crisp. The fire was so massive that it could be seen from miles away. This event marked what might be called the close of West Brighton’s golden age. Dreamland was never rebuilt, leaving only Luna Park and Steeplechase. Luna Park, burdened with debts from years of competing with Dreamland, was taken over by creditors in 1912. While it would remain open and popular for the next several decades, it went into a slow, gradual decline, never quite regaining the level of popularity from its first years of operation.
By the early 1920s, mass transit to West Brighton was making West Brighton a daytrip destination for beachgoers, and West Brighton’s hotels were no longer needed. The advent of movies and cars also changed what the public did for entertainment; Coney Island’s bands and shows were no longer as captivating as they once were. When the Depression hit, businesses were forced to offer cheap amusements to survive, marking the end of an era of top rate dining and entertainment.
A Final Word on Coney Island’s Transformation between 1880 and 1920
Coney Island's golden age lasted for approximately forty years. While West Brighton may never have been as fancy as Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach, it was and remains the root of Coney Island’s identity. It was the first area to develop at Coney Island, and remained popular for decades after the resorts at Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach had disappeared.
The grand hotels in Brighton and Manhattan Beaches had been designed to attract the wealthy and socially prominent. In the early 1880s, for about three or four years after these hotels were built, millionaires and their families patronized the luxurious hotels. Gradually, however, they drifted back to their former fashionable resorts, where they were better insulated from contact with the middle and lower classes. In their place, horse fanciers, theatrical celebrities, and politicians helped to occupy some of the hundreds of vacant rooms of the Brighton, Manhattan and Oriental Hotels. The upper middle class, mainly of Brooklyn, dined in their restaurants, frequented their bars, and attended their cultural attractions, which helped to defray the losses sustained by the inability of the hotels to get a sufficient number of people to check in throughout the summer. With the successful efforts of the reformers to end gambling at the race-tracks in 1907, the tracks had to close, and the ripple effect was the closing of the great hotels and the overall decline of Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach as resorts.
At West Brighton, the golden age was characterized initially by many first-rate restaurants and shows, and subsequently by the great amusement parks. This was a wonderful period for the live entertainment and amusements industry. Formerly, the summer months had been a lean period for actors, singers and dancers, with the Broadway theatres closed. The entertainers flocked to Coney Island, where their talents were eagerly sought in the theatres, and in the innumerable cabarets and concert halls. They were even in demand at the racetracks, which provided music and entertainment, as well as horseracing.
Along with the ebbing of Coney Island's elegant period went the leisurely pace of the 19th Century. Scientific advancement was beginning to speed up the tempo of life, and to change tastes. The automobile was replacing the horse and carriage, the electrified railroads the steam-powered trains. The moving pictures would soon be presenting spectaculars that even Pain could not match. It would not be too long before audiences would become too sophisticated to enjoy what had delighted them a generation earlier. Throughout this time, West Brighton would continue to evolve with the times, just as it continues to do today, a full 140 years after Culver first built his depot.
Across Surf Avenue from the Mont Pelee Theatre, the Vanderveer and Pabst Loop Hotels, and part of the Culver Depot, were destroyed by fire on July 9, 1908. The Pabst building had been constructed some years earlier on property owned by the Vanderveers. The railroad people acquired from the owners of the Pabst and Vanderveer Hotels parts of their properties in order to rebuild an enlarged depot. Both of the hotels were reconstructed on a smaller scale, and in brick.
The Dreamland Fire and the Closing of the Golden Age (1911, 1920s, 1930s)
West Brighton was still going strong when, on the eve of the opening day of the 1911 season, Dreamland burned to a crisp. The fire was so massive that it could be seen from miles away. This event marked what might be called the close of West Brighton’s golden age. Dreamland was never rebuilt, leaving only Luna Park and Steeplechase. Luna Park, burdened with debts from years of competing with Dreamland, was taken over by creditors in 1912. While it would remain open and popular for the next several decades, it went into a slow, gradual decline, never quite regaining the level of popularity from its first years of operation.
By the early 1920s, mass transit to West Brighton was making West Brighton a daytrip destination for beachgoers, and West Brighton’s hotels were no longer needed. The advent of movies and cars also changed what the public did for entertainment; Coney Island’s bands and shows were no longer as captivating as they once were. When the Depression hit, businesses were forced to offer cheap amusements to survive, marking the end of an era of top rate dining and entertainment.
A Final Word on Coney Island’s Transformation between 1880 and 1920
Coney Island's golden age lasted for approximately forty years. While West Brighton may never have been as fancy as Brighton Beach or Manhattan Beach, it was and remains the root of Coney Island’s identity. It was the first area to develop at Coney Island, and remained popular for decades after the resorts at Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach had disappeared.
The grand hotels in Brighton and Manhattan Beaches had been designed to attract the wealthy and socially prominent. In the early 1880s, for about three or four years after these hotels were built, millionaires and their families patronized the luxurious hotels. Gradually, however, they drifted back to their former fashionable resorts, where they were better insulated from contact with the middle and lower classes. In their place, horse fanciers, theatrical celebrities, and politicians helped to occupy some of the hundreds of vacant rooms of the Brighton, Manhattan and Oriental Hotels. The upper middle class, mainly of Brooklyn, dined in their restaurants, frequented their bars, and attended their cultural attractions, which helped to defray the losses sustained by the inability of the hotels to get a sufficient number of people to check in throughout the summer. With the successful efforts of the reformers to end gambling at the race-tracks in 1907, the tracks had to close, and the ripple effect was the closing of the great hotels and the overall decline of Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach as resorts.
At West Brighton, the golden age was characterized initially by many first-rate restaurants and shows, and subsequently by the great amusement parks. This was a wonderful period for the live entertainment and amusements industry. Formerly, the summer months had been a lean period for actors, singers and dancers, with the Broadway theatres closed. The entertainers flocked to Coney Island, where their talents were eagerly sought in the theatres, and in the innumerable cabarets and concert halls. They were even in demand at the racetracks, which provided music and entertainment, as well as horseracing.
Along with the ebbing of Coney Island's elegant period went the leisurely pace of the 19th Century. Scientific advancement was beginning to speed up the tempo of life, and to change tastes. The automobile was replacing the horse and carriage, the electrified railroads the steam-powered trains. The moving pictures would soon be presenting spectaculars that even Pain could not match. It would not be too long before audiences would become too sophisticated to enjoy what had delighted them a generation earlier. Throughout this time, West Brighton would continue to evolve with the times, just as it continues to do today, a full 140 years after Culver first built his depot.
This article combines the author's extensive ongoing research with text from the late Manny Teitelman's unpublished manuscript, 'Coney Island, Last Stop!'
The manuscript's contents are used, modified and published under an exclusive copyright license dated 2016. All rights reserved.
[1] Image from Arrt's Archives, www.arrts-arrchives.com/ppirr.html
[2] Image from Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Switchback_Railway#/media/File:Thompsons_Switchback_Railway_1884.jpg
[3] Image from Wikipedia, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Carrie_Nation,_1910.jpg
[4] Image and caption information from Wild About Harry, www.wildabouthoudini.com/2015/10/coney-island-where-harry-met-bessie.html
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