Long Island Is A Great Place!

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THE LONG ISLAND IS A GREAT PLACE!

For thirty years past, there has been a suggestion made by spasms, that sometimes in joke, sometimes in earnest, that Long Island should become a State by itself! The comparison is made between extent of surface, the number of its population—and then in the comparison, Rhode Island and Delaware are brought in.

Long Island is about a hundred and twenty miles long—two thirds of it being occupied by Suffolk County—“Old Suffolk,” with forked snout thrust forth into the Atlantic, and “Turtle Hill,” (the eastern extremity on which is built the light house,) like a verdant wart on one of the projections.

Going east, by the Long Island Railroad, after you leave Hicksville, you travel ten or twelve miles through the Plains to Deer Park; and then the succeeding forty or fifty miles is mostly a barren and uninviting route, the soil flat, whitish, coarse, sometimes hard, more often friable, and sandy, not good to retain manure, with parts of the surface covered with tough grass, lichens, and patches of “kill calf.”

But the more prevailing feature of the route through which the Long Island Railroad runs, beyond Deer Park, is the spread of medium-sized pines—not the grand trees of the southern states, or of the far north, but a different thing altogether. The tracts of Long Island pines are never left to attain their growth; the farmers use them, without stint, for firewood—and devastating fires rage every year through some portions of them.

Another more modern reason is that Charcoal-burning has, within the past ten years, become quite a great business, through that half of the Island. As you pass along you see the conical stacks, covered with earth and turf, smoking through the crevices in the sides, and at the top. Occasionally too the huts of the charcoal-burners are visible—rude, undeveloped, original houses, formed of branches of trees, earth, and perhaps a few cheap boards.

Whiskey, cider, cheap rum, or some other stimulant, is an indispensable part of the stores in these huts. Pork, sea-biscuit, and coffee, are most likely there; but liquor may be counted upon as certainly there. The Charcoal burners themselves are a class of men worth studying a little, and writing about—all of which we leave for another opportunity.

Slowly, but quite surely, these vast tracts of pine are being cleared from the heart and breast of Long Island. In twenty-five or thirty years from now, perhaps the clearance will be quite general. The land will then warrant the outlay required before it can be made useful for human sustenance, through agriculture.

But the strange passenger through this Island must not receive what he sees along these barrens, plains, and pineries, as a sample of the whole; for they form indeed but a fraction of the Island. Both on the south side, and on the north side, the main part of the soil is good. Take them all through, the lands of Long Island are certainly better, in their native condition, than those of any one of the New England States.

All the peninsula of Montauk is good soil. It is now unsettled—fifteen or twenty miles without as many houses or farms. It is largely used for commons and pasture; rights for grazing are also hired out by the towns. The towns have the ownership of Montauk, in usufruct. They use it, or sell the use of it, but cannot sell the land with complete title. We believe the Indians have yet a legal foothold here. Some way will have to be found to “extinguish” their title.

Shelter Island is another unknown, untraveled, but interesting part of Long Island. It is about the size of Staten Island, and is equally picturesque. It lies in the waters of the Peconic, and is enclosed, as in the opened and half-embracing claws of a huge lobster, sheltering it all around; hence its name.

The south side—the Great South Bay—the fishing and fowling—the fishermen, the natives, the curious and original characters, so quaint, so smacking of salt and sea-weed—the sand-islands out in the bays—Fire Island—the wrecks and wreckers—all these richly repay the journeyer and explorer, from Rockaway to the Hamptons.

The North side is more hilly, and has many promontories, coves, &c. It is exceedingly beautiful in parts, as any one must acknowledge who goes on a day’s sail through the Sound. The North side is very favorable to fruit—apples, pears, cherries, grapes, and the wild berries.

Thus dashing off at random a very few of the points of interest and note, belonging to Long Island, we think we are safe in making the assertion at the head of this article.

We have to add, in conclusion, that our readers may soon expect in our columns a running series of letters, depicting the places, scenes, shores, improvements, and the salient traits of the people also, through Long Island, penned con amore from the same hand as the foregoing.