By Walker Joyce
When one hears the phrase Ghost Town, one pictures the remnants of a dusty village out west, with tumbleweeds blowing across empty streets. Those places reflected boom centers that sprang up around a gold or silver mine, then were abandoned when the treasure bottomed out. These bergs have appeared in thousands of movies and TV shows, making the image a cliché.
Did you know that such relics exist here, in the most densely populated state? Many of them are in the Pine Barrens and connect to another kind of excavation in the 17th and 1800s, when New Jersey sourced deep pockets of iron ore. Back when the forests were dense and wood fired the furnaces, entire cities were built near bogs and quarries that supplied the raw material.
But in the 18th century, coal was discovered in Pennsylvania, and by the lead-up to the Civil War, this fuel was found to be superior for powering forges. Almost overnight, the charcoal-burning smelters on our side of the Delaware became obsolete, destroying the iron-making economy. Towns that depended on that were deserted and left to rot.
The same syndrome occurred at a settlement in the Watchung Mountains, but for different reasons. It was named for David Felt, who built his own company town in 1846 to support his factories—mills that made textiles and paper.
The business provided a livelihood for 175 workers and their families. Feltville contained houses, a general store, a schoolhouse and even a non-denominational church with a full-time pastor.
Business thrived for 15 years, but then progress began to conspire against it. The lack of a water port and the rise of the railroads made Felt’s transportation system, essentially wagons navigating poorly-constructed roads, too expensive to compete in the marketplace—especially in the winter.
“King David” sold out in 1882, and an entrepreneur named Warren Ackerman converted it into a resort called Glenside Park. He promoted swimming, boating, golf and other outdoor recreation to the citizens of the nearby big cities, including New York. This worked for a while, but soon our fabled Shore stole away most of the summer trade. Once more, the railroads cooperated, along with an improved highway network for the era of the automobile.
Again, Feltville became an orphan. All the buildings remained while the landscape reverted to what the original inhabitants, the Lenne Lenape Indians, would’ve recognized: acres of trees amid brooks, trails and cliffs. Scenic, peaceful, teaming with flora and fauna.
The 20th century dawned, and as New Jersey began to evolve into urban centers with neighboring suburban communities, the more enlightened leaders realized that open spaces were disappearing. The Union County Park Commission was chartered in 1921, and very soon thereafter, the Watchung Reservation was incorporated into the system.
This became the largest greenway in one of the most populous counties in the country, and it remains so today, despite the pressure from developers, urban sprawl, and even the encroachment of Interstate Highway 78.
Smack dab in the center is the remains of Feltville, now officially called and promoted as the “Deserted Village,” and is located within the Watchung Reservation in Berkeley Heights. On any given day, you’ll find hikers, bikers and horseback riders exploring its footprint, including the surviving buildings.
These dilapidated structures enhance the area’s spooky legacy, with many stories of witches’ covens, devil worship and other yarns that teens love to tell around a campfire.
It’s fun to visit anytime of the year, but try one of the haunted hayrides the commission runs every October.
