November 22, 2024

      Old Black Joke Engine Company 33 has come smilin’ to the front of late. Now the history of “Old Black Joke” is quite interestin’. It was originally “a floater,” takin’ the same line of business as the floatin’ steam fire engine of to-day. It was anchored off the Battery and used to get in its fine work among “the ships and the slips,” as the sayin’ was. This floater was a clumsy sort of contrivance, compared with the floaters of the present, but it answered its purpose very well for some three or four years. It never had any trouble about gettin’ all the water it wanted. But it was a dull sort of a life its members led, and there was nobody to fight with; so the floatin’ racket was given up, and the engine became a land organization.

      The land engine was snugly housed near Corlears Hook, and in a little while the company became notorious, alike for its bravery, it’s promptness and its fights. Some prominent men belonged to it at different times, such men as Tom Secor (who once fought a prize fight with Yankee Sullivan at Staten Island), for instance, and Laird, the iron founder; Steers, the famous ship builder,was likewise an active member for some time. Steers once involved the whole company in a row by punishin’ soundly a man who made fun of American shippin’. Steers pummeled the “anti-American,” as he called him, and was enthusiastically sustained by all his associate members.

      Black Joke soon became known as one of the “hard fighting’” companies. One of the requisites of a member was to be able to hold his own in a hand to hand encounter. Engine No. 30, in Chrystie street, near Stanton, got to be quite friendly with No. 33, and the two engine companies used to, as it were, “hunt adventures”, fires and fights in conjunction.

      The particular foes of these two chums were engines Peterson No. 15 and Live Oak No. 44. Engine 15 lay in Chrystie street, near Canal street, and Harry Howard, afterwards chief, served twenty years with it; and 44 lay in East Houston street near Columbia street in that region then known as “the island,” because like an island it was surrounded on all sides by the water. All these four engines were hard “fighters,” but of all the four, as a fellow said once, “the fightin’est was Black Joke.” Generally the four companies fought by pairs–that is, 15 and 44 would fight 30 and 33. But one afternoon there had been two big fires and 30 engine had gone to one, and 33 engine (Black Joke) had taken in the other. It so chanced, if there is such a thing as chance, that both engines 15 and 44 had gone to the same fire as Black Joke, and comin’ home the three companies met. Black Joke, full of fight, heedless of the absence of its chum, tackled 15, and havin’ rather the best of it, of course 44 came to the rescue. Naturally enough against such odds there was no possibility of old 33 comin’ out winner. But it fought so desperately that it held its own, notwithstandin’ the odds, and saved itself at least from defeat If it couldn’t crown itself with victory.

      I may here remark that the members of Engines 44 and 33 consisted entirely of ship carpenters, caulkers and sparmakers–men in the same walk of life and line of business, and who were accordin’ly all the more attached to each other, or bitterly opposed to each other, as the case might be. The father of old Ed Harrigan, of the Theatre Comique, was a practical caulker of that time, and his son worked at the same trade in the Seventh Ward afterwards.

      When the Native American party became a power in politics, Black Joke took up the cudgel in behalf of the rights, under the Constitution, of foreigners in general and ould Ireland in America in particular. The members of old 33 fairly hated the Native American organization, and later on absolutely frothed at the mouth when they heard the very name of “Know Nothin’,” as the anti-foreigner party was called.

      One day about the middle of September, there had been a fire, and Black Joke Engine Company had done good service in in extinguishin’ the flames. Returnin’ from the fire, the company met a Know Nothin’ procession going along the Bowery, near Chatham Square. The site of the K. N.’s  acted on the B.J.’s as red acts on a bull, and layin’ down their rope the 33 boys went for the Know Nothin’s, who knew nothing more till they found ‘emselves hauled and mauled about and otherwise maltreated. In vain they attempted resistance. Black Joke, in such a fight as this, was resistless. There was no more “popular demonstration in favor of native-born citizens” that day, and Black Joke was the town talk that evenin’.

      But the next mornin’, in the newspapers, the real trouble began, and it kept on growin’. Black Joke’s row was looked upon, as it really was, after all, as a flagrant violation of freedom as well as a breach of the city order and ordinance, and public opinion turned against the B.J.’s, who could fight, but couldn’t argue, and so, after all, in the long run they got the worst of it. Their case was brought before the Fire and Water Committee of the Board of Alderman, who took the place at that time since occupied by the Fire Commissioners, and bein’ found guilty of a gross public disturbance, the company was “mustered out”–was disbanded, ceased to exist. It was a severe punishment, but after all it was deserved.

      Years afterwards an attempt was made to revive the company, in vain. Then, years still later, another attempt was made under Peter Masterson as foreman, which was partially successful.

      But to-day old Black Joke 33, the fightin’ engine company, is only a memory–though a very suggestive one.

[Editor’s notes: The NY Fire Department was formed in 1865, replacing the Volunteer Fire Department composed of independent neighborhood companies. While the NYFD’s history of fire-boats is well-documented, the use of “floating engines” by the volunteer fire companies is obscure and not well-known. The first indication of “floating engines” in New York appears in 1804, when a Mr. Howell deployed engines he had obtained in England.

The “Black Joke” was a bawdy street song that appeared in Great Britain in the early 18th century. The title was adopted as the name of several ships, both in Britain and the United States. The Black Joke Engine 33 was formed in the mid-1830s, but it is unclear whether it had already become land-based at that time. Images of the engine itself, as seen above, depict a tank painted with a maritime scene, which lends credence to the idea that the company was named after a New York-based sloop used in the War of 1812 to capture several British vessels.

The column above notes that Engine 33 had been broken up a couple of times prior to the late 1850s, when Peter Masterson reorganized it. Under Masterson, the Black Joke Engine 33 gained infamy for its role in the 1863 draft riots. Supposedly, the riots began after members of the Engine company were named in the federal draft rolls; but there are also reports that Engine 33 assisted in quelling some of the fires started by the rioters, and supported efforts to stop the violence.]