LM ir-- l~flciRN $7WTr Noon lb SINS OF NEW YORK AS "EXPOSED" BY THE POLICE GAZETTE SINS OF NEW YORK AS "EXPOSED" BY TTIE POLICE GAZETTE By EDWARD VAN EVERY Author of "Muldoon: The Solid Man of Sport" With an Introduction by FRANKLIN P. ADAMS (F. P. A.) A NEW WONDER 0 FTHE METROPOLIS With 120 Reproductions of the Original Woodcut Illustrations FREDERICK A. STOKES COMHPANY N E W V Y R RK ~H C SSS COPYRIGHT, 1930, BY EDWARD VAN EVERY All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced without the written permission of the publishers. Printed in the United States of America "XVT INTRODUCTION WVHITHER are we drifting?" ask the hodiernal tabloids. "We are on the crest of the crime wave! said the journals of the mid-Nineties, whose noisy yellowness of that day is now only the inaudible yellowness of age. "The city is rampant with crime," said the Rome Tribune. "SIN SWEEPS SODOM, SAYS LOT," was probably the headline of the Gomorrah Mirror. Which is by way of saying that the history of a people is shown in the record of its vices and crimes and sins. Shown as accurately-and to the most of us' more interestingly-as in its political history. And when these vice-and-crime records are at once more and less than the facts-that is, when they are the records of a prejudiced reporter rather than the log of a police blotter-they becomec more fascinating. For the years have corroded the prejudice away, and the scream of yesterday that froze the blood is the absurd squeak of to-day that arouses-if it can be heard at all-laughter. To most of us the Police Gazette was something that we saw in barber-shops of the Eighties and Nineties. One of the first jokes I ever heard (at Sam T. Jack's Madison Street Opera House, Chicago) was "Seen the Police Gazette?" "No, I shave myself." Of course, the names of Puck and Judge sometimes were substituted, but that wasn't funny to me, because we used to have Puck and Judge every week at home. But I never saw a copy of the Police Gazette outside of Frank's barber-shop, which was on the south side Of 35th Street, between Indiana and Michigan Avenues. It was, as World's Fair Chicagoans will recall, across the street from Hoteling's Bicycle Repair Shop, and half a block from the drugstore of Thos. H. Mclnerney and the residence of the growing boy who is now S. W. Straus, but who was then Art's big brother, Simon. The Police Gazette was fascinating to us boys whose faces never needed Frank's razor oftener than once a week. But I remember little of what I read or saw in the Gazette, though the little is vivid and accurate. I remember a feeling of disappointment when the picture of I NTRO It UCT ION ship, dear to the heart of every circulation manager past, present, and futureinterested and thrilled me. That is, pictorially, for I never read anything but the description of the picture-and I would gaze at the picture a long time. Usually it was the picture of a woman, or of many women. Sometimes they were pursuers, sometimes pursued. Occasionally somebody had a revolver, later known to headline writers as a gun or gat. But it was ankles and legs that really got me. Those were the days when a woman's shoe-top was considered, as you might say, uptown. And these pictures showed some women's skirts-thousands of skirts-in abandoned disarray. Women were running, and were ostentatiously careless whether they displayed their legs almost to the knee. Yes, I used to stare at those pictures, and so did all the boys that I knew. Some of those boys have attained distinction in one field or another; but none has yet served a jail sentence or a term in the poorhouse. And while this proves nothing, I submit, to the censors who talk of Harm to Youth, that all these things-the amorous movies, the pornographic tabloids, the so-called obscene books-do no harm whatever. I am not controversial enough to try to prove that they do good. For either Wisdom or Ageor the mixture-tells me that nothing does youth much harm. Or good. I do remember some of the advertisements that the Old Police Gazette carried, and I think that they were harmful and insidious. It seems to me that the Gazette, with the various crusades against umbrageous advertising, must have had litigious difficulties in its day, for it published dozens of "cures" for all manner of venereal diseases, remedies for impotence in appeals to "weak men and women, 'Pleasure Promoter,' tells how 'twas done to Helen," "'How a Married Woman Goes to Bed,' ro full-page illustrations, with comic reading, Ioc," and hundreds of that sort. Of the influences of the Police Gazette-The National Police Gazette, the Leading Illustrated Sporting Journal in the World-on the sporting life, especially on boxing, Mr. Van Every has written exhaustively in this book. His book shows, uniquely and fascinatingly, a great part of the history of the American people, their tastes, their violences, their recreations. I would rather read a file of the Police Gazette than a file of the Century Magazine, or even of Harper's Weekly. And I'd rather read Van Every's report and interpretation of those files than read the files. He tells me that in its heyday, long before the tabloids beat the P. G. at its vi INTRO DUCTION own game, its circulation was about 400,000, and on big fistic occasions like the Sullivan-Kilrain fight it went as big as half a million. To-day the circulation, I am told, is below 50,ooo000 and what with the daily newspapers printing pictures that make even the old Gazette seem conservative, and tabloids out-sensationing the P. G. at its pinkest period, the once popular weekly is in what the boys call a Tough Spot. Its zippiest picture (June 7, 1930) is its front page one of Clara Bow, a further cry from the nude than you can see in the movies. Its "hottest" advertisements in that issue were such as "If you want a 'rich' and pretty sweetheart, write Grace Dotson, South Euclid, Ohio," and "The 'Stuff' You Want for Men Only. 20 French style pictures. 9 original, all different, daring and spicy French stories. Momart Importing Co., Brooklyn." I feel old, writing about the Police Gazette. I feel almost like answering one of those advertisements to assure me that I could regain my Vanished Virility for a dime, ten cents, the tenth of a dollar. But what makes me feel old is the certainty that before long my two-year-old son, getting his 10,000,oo000 circulation newspaper over the television radio, will be writing an introduction to Van Every's grandson's history of the 1931 tabloids, and how we Old Gentlemen used to get a kick out of those outworn one-hoss shays of journalism. But he'll need this book for reference, the little upstart! F. P. A. vii CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION BY FRANKLIN P. ADAMS (F.P.A.)........v FOREWORD BY THE AUTHOR..............xv PART I THE ORIGINAL POLICE GAZETTE (1845) THE MORALIZING MUCKRAKER 3 THE PUBLICAN, THE PEWTERER, AND THE PUGILIST 30 An Astounding Case of Mistaken Identity. VIRGINIA OF VIRGINIA 44 A Red-Hot Mamma of the Forties. GOUGH AND THE GAZETTE.... 52 The Trials of the Tippling Temperance Talker. THE MERRY YULETIDE MURDER... 61 Thrice Tried, Once Convicted, Polly Bodine Escapes Gallows. WHEN MEN WERE-MANHANDLERS 72 About John Morrissey and Murder, and Bill Poole and Politics. THE MANSION BUILT ON BABY SKULLS 91 Why Madame Restell Added Her Own Life to the Many She Had Taken. THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ILLICIT LOVE TRAGEDY 105 Murder in the Tribune Office, Death Drama in the Astor House, and Travesty in the Court of Justice. THE MOST REVOLTING UNSOLVED MURDER MYSTERY 124 The Case of Many Clews That Led Nowhere and the $5o,ooo Reward That Was Never Claimed. PART II THE RICHARD K. FOX GAZETTE (1876) THE PALE PINK PICTURE PERIODICAL.....145 GLIMPSES OF GOTHAM...............i8i Peregrinations and Perceptions of Paul Prowler. [ix] CONTENTS PAOG UP HILL'S AND DOWN THE ROAD TO McGLORY'S...199 With Stops at the Bal Mabillc, the Bowery Bastile and Other Nice Places. VERACITIES FROM VICE'S VARIETIES... 220 The Big Bandit and Ycgg Men and Racketeer Stars of the Seventies. THEY LET GEORGE DO IT..... 245 Hanging Artistically Performed, Satisfactory Work Guaranteed. CRIB DIES LIKE A DOG........... 254 How Pilot, the New York Brindle, Won the American Championship. MR. SULLIVAN AND MR. FOX.... 261 How the Sport of Boxing Came to Be Big Business. DENIZENS AND DEPRAVITIES OF THE DEADLY DIVES 277 A Tour of the Five Points, the River Dens, and the Bowery When It Was the Bowery. [x] ILLUSTRATIONS A New Wonder of the Metropolis.. Title page PAGE The Oldest Original Copy of the National Police Gazette in Existence 2 The New York Tombs.. ~ 4 A Girl Lamplighter........ 6 A Masher Mashed... 7 Pickpocket on the Battery.... 8 George Wilkes, Founder of the Police Gazette...... 10 George W. Matsell, Chief of New York City Police.... 11 Sparking in Tompkins Park 16 List of Lottery Winners during May, 1885....... i8 William Parkinson, the Barge Robber 19 How She Cured Him....22 Favorites of the Footlights.... 24 List of Deserters during the Mexican War 26 The Pirate of the Parks.......... 27 Life in Water Street Dives... 31 Saved by His Sweetheart....... 33 Jacob Hays, High Constable of New York........ 36 An Old-time Race.. 38 Whimsical Freaks and Fancies.... 41 The Female Rights' Musketeers............ 45 The Female Drummer's Arts.............. 47 Rum on Tap.......50 Beauty and the Beer.............. 53 Going for His Scalp.................. 54 Almost Trapped.... 56 Machinations of a Female Temptress. 57 An Oyster and Wine Clerical Conference........ 59 The Liar's Doom!.....60 The Boston Tragedy...... 62 The Staten Island Tragedy................. 63 Polly Bodine............ 64 Queens of the Lobby................ 66 [xi] ILL U STRATIONS Substitute for the Death Penalty......... Bill Poole, the Famous Sporting Man, Politician and Fighter...... John Morrissey, Congressman, State Senator, Gambler and Pugilist.... A Masquerade on Skates...... Scrapping for Love..... "The" Allen, Proprietor of the Noted "Bal Mabille"..... Every Belle Wants Her Hair Cut Like a Little Man's... Gay Girls Declare Their Independence Gotham on Wheels. Madame Restell, Better Known as "Madame Killer".... Fifth Avenue Belles Acting as Street-sweepers..... Groom Versus Bridegroom.. A Bevy of Strong-minded Amazons Make a Sensation at a New York Uptown Poll Place The New Song of the Shirt...... Boss Tweed, as He Appeared When Foreman of "Bix Six".... A Tragedy on the Metropolitan Elevated Railroad. Picked Up About Town by the Gazette.. The Buzzard in Dove's Plumes... War on the Wires... Playful Pranks of March Breezes...... Mashed by a Midget.............. Spring Openings on the Turf. How Dr. Mary Walker Resented the Smell of a Queer Cigar..... Richard K. Fox... Fencing Scene in the Black Crook.... Headline Horrors.......... The Fiends of Religion.. Episodes in the Life of a Magdalen, as Illustrated in the Career of Nellie D. Camp The National Police Gazette Office in William Street "Vanderbilt's Velocity"... A Tale of the Torrid Wave.. Science Revolutionizes the Laundry Business......... Political Preferences and Charms......... The Great Walk for the Astley Belt at Madison Square Garden....... Prevented by the Police from Swimming on Sunday.... The Great Oyster Opening Match at Clarendon Hall......... Incidents of the Bridge Horror.............. [xii] PAGE * 70 73 S73 * 75 77 S8i S82 S88 92 94 96 S101 g in 107 112 II"7. ii8 119 125 129 130 * 132 133 S 37 144 148 150 151 152 154 156 157 159. 16. 163. 164. 65. 68 ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE L. D. Copeland, Inventor of a Steam Bicycle 10.......... 70 She Had Been There Herself 1............172 Robert Donaldion, Champion Aerial Jumper of the World..........174 Alice Jennings, Champion Female Boxer of New York 1...... 74 The Police Gazette's Gallery of Famous Sporting Men 175 M'lle Sara Bernhardt, from the Police Gazette's Gallery of Footlight Favorites 176 The Road to Ruin........... 182 Pretty Petticoat Pool-players......... 184 Inside Secrets of Fashionable Shopping in the Metropolis......... I86 The Genius of Advertising Could No Further Go.........i87 Temptations of Handsome New York Working-girls........ x89 Shadow Dancing in the Haymarket Igo............. Lady's Day in New York..................193 A New Blackmailing Racket............. 196 Paris in New York...........197 A Night at Harry Hill's..... 200 Effect of the Appearance of Oscar Wilde, the Apostle of iEstheticism... 203 Nautical Damsels Take a Sail Off Sandy Hook 204 "A "Soiree" Night at "The" Allen's Bal Mabille..... 2o08 "A Haul of Frisky Citizens and Gay Damsels......209 Owney Geoghegan, Proprietor of "Bastile on the Bowery"........2o10 Unadulterated Deviltry Unchecked by the Police...........212 Amazonian Prize Fighters 213 Billy McGlory, Owner of the Notorious "Armory Hall"'.........214 Pool-selling Takes Possession of a Fair Disciple of Pleasure......... 216 A Dizzy Disciple of Terpsichore Taken for a Ride....221 Burning of Harrigan and Hart's Theatre Comique 223 A Strange Temperance Experiment in the Broadway Tabernacle. 224 A Census of the Pops.. 226 She Caught It Hot...227 A Blacksmith's Duel with Red-hot Irons... 228 A Polar Exploration 230....230 A Disgraceful Scene on Fourteenth Street During the Holiday Season.... -.; Jesse James Writes Mr. Fox Regarding His Intentions... 234 Counterfeiting as a Woman's Right.......................2.35 Mother Mandelbaum, Queen of the Fences...........241 Brockway, King of the Counterfeiters, and His Ring................ 24. Guiteau's Last Days........................249 [ xiii ] ILLUSTRATIONS Dead Dog in the Pit.................... They Wet the Ribbon Perils of New York's Water Highway John L. Sullivan Pictured in Action for the First Time.. Scenes in New Orleans Before the Ryan-Sullivan Battle. A Perilous Situation at Tony Pastor's.. Song Dedicated to Jake Kilrain and Sung by Maggie Cline Dominie Talmage's Big Circus Revival Grand Costume Ball of the Arion Society at Madison Square Garden The Child of the Dives....... "Golly, Missey, Biz is Gettin' Good"........ Scenes in Deadly Dives on the Bowery...... Steve Brodie Takes a Chance........ Slaves to a Deadly Infatuation..,,,,...... [xiv] .E POLICE GAZETTE! FOREWORD Against the background of American newsprint, this oldest of illustrated periodicals stands out a scarlet silhouette. While it flourished in other generations, the name, POLICE GAZETTE, still intrigues as a cherished though bawdy souvenir of the bygone. Even if our impressions as to what the Gazette once stood for, be merely something that has been handed down to us, we are yet alive to the fact that this glamorous roue of journalism was conceived and thrived on sins. In fitting this epitome of sin between book covers I have carried my researches only to the end of the gaslit era. Even so, it has meant delving into five decades; decades that embrace the middle Forties to the early Eighties; decades that picture a New York suffering from growing pains, obstreperous adolescence and other ills a young and eager nation falls naturally heir to. My task has been to select out of this overgenerous wealth of material, what I may be permitted to describe as the Gazette's best worst features. I have chosen liberally from "Lives of the Felons," "Glimpses of Gotham," "Tales of the Tombs," "Deadly Dives," "Vice's Varieties," and similar popular serials and departments peculiar to the Gazette, together with generous excerpts from its accounts of big murders, misdemeanors and mysteries. In the selection of the pictures, this has been done with an eye to giving as diversified an example of the workmanship of the Gazette artists as possible, even at the expense of any attempt toward having some conform overclosely to the text. And among the reproductions of these woodcuts (ranging from eighty-odd to a half century old) will be found some of the finest work of its kind, and with the original captions retained in practically every instance. Against the fact that the Police Gazette esteemed itself a national weekly, and was so known, I have confined myself to the sinning that went on in New York. For did not New York, even in those halcyon days, set the pace? A survey of these sins brings realization that the monster sins which the city of New York combated were Poverty and Politics. The fight against political corruption, of which New York had more than its share, has been ably and extensively dealt with in recent books, such as the history of Tammany Hall and others which xv FO It REWORD single out the Tweed and Fernando Wood regimes. For this and various reasons, I have gone but lightly, if at all, into such momentous happenings as the Draft and P'(,licc Riots, the Fisk killing, the raid of the ghouls on the Stewart tomb, as well as scme other historical occurrences. And the following still remains a fairly comprehensive survey of the sins of the times. What is more, most of the foregoing transpired when the fortunes of the Gazette were at a low ebb, or when the paper was a tool of corrupt powers, and when its handling of the sins we have neglected was nowise noteworthy. In the matter of such famous cases as the Nathan and Richardson murders, both extraordinary crimes when the Sixties were giving way to the Seventies, the Gazette was quite its vigorous self. These cases, which show a different side of the Gazette, wcre touched upon by both the original and the modern Gazette. As years went by and persons who had played a prominent part in these affairs were brought to public attention through death or some other cause, these murders were always reviewed anew and additional matter brought to light. It is of interest, particularly in the Richardson affair, to note the change in attitude that came over the Gazette with advancing years. A distinctly new tone is evident in the ultimate treatment as compared with its handling of the first important murder case that engaged its outraged attention, the tragic deaths for which Polly Bodine was thrice tried. The Police Gazette came into existence in 1845, and so dates back beyond such contemporaries as Harper's Weekly, Frank Leslie's Weekly and Robert Bonner's Ledger, eminent publications in their respective days, and in competition with which the Gazette shone in its own special fashion, and all of whom the Gazette outlived, being still in existence. There were two distinct Gazettes, the first, strangely enough, being a crusading journal. Then, in the Seventies, Richard K. Fox took it over and made it into the pink periodical of sensations and sports, and of which most of us still retain vivid recollections. Its heyday, under Fox, extended beyond the Nifty Nineties, when it began to take on the complexion of a more sophisticated newspaper; one more reason why I have not extended these delvings beyond the gaslit era. The Gazette ceased to be funny when it started to take itself as a joke. E. V. E. xvi SINS OF NEW YORK AS ' EXPOSED"' BY THE POLICE GAZETTE 0 PAR~TI THE ORIGINAL POLICE GAZETTE (1845) NATIONAL POLICE GAZETTE. ~ioI. U. l!EW.VORKI, ATUJIDAIV4OCTOBElR 18, 1846-. No... - ---:. - - mmlmmý 71111111 1A~er64)AL 1asOLECK OAZUTTK, CMfCCLATrio~v, 0,2o0 coflisil WAHatl stnpcal fAli ofor tM preo.l Iv~ awvoch~o Maefdes a efealsy domeaadistaa he lou reac01`I 02 O anoeae,to mail suacrbitnbee, payableIivareaetY III&& Agents frowarding gA wilt b# ocUted atoibe#* copies sent ta ahear ceer sand Ia prporVManrf11111rM. AncoffirewilbopubO~ed atsanyonneeidt.5ebY -s5 41 Flighta., adeoiredd ronteisoinit 4o, e puiinoii r5ci ently Miolen moneydrnifs or at-*6uad~itl-,* Lb enOtifiopi.,o4, which ewilbe itoss s l,,irwaeediio oiravieamora correuPoedent is thouot aw12 ~t~eUioli Advertiasements potibieb od 05esincbto Utdsm. tp All etoeru(a insueaePromptt tatteetace. fmailbe POW P4"d. andOst esiaoes10ioANP & WILIEI, Ida I toe and Pab~siaubu21 PsOW* tr*4t giasced aactuediou se Act at c.apgese 0be you 1IND. py aftk ýtemp &no lGeorge Wilikla, in he Cl4Pnke9Office or The PeIrIct Couit of the I rJI Salei(re t.he Soathensi ttclaocof Now STank LIVES OF THE FELONS8. ROBERT SUTTONV The cloud@ kept towering over Redtmond, -ned it arraceerd &a if aomesa ud-loivos genius we"e. ontriving circarolacstaClto conspire to hi. destruction. A few days after his crurt cod gloomi naorercrorioo, a hack driver, tar,..>, acag tenlBroioklyn, enaed Robert [toward, hig With a circuoretance nohach seeamed to wei~b SU7ffONi-. D&ROY & JOAN," 24 1 -mnomesetoucly in the bealaco of the pneoneras trat, e&cald upoo John Low, the Presadept o 'f thbe Union Bank, and. comOnnuottrted a tact 1whicb appeared to wet doubt cemploe~ly at 4kante. He iniorroed that gentleman th~at ly seot ina the papers of the cue to the Grand en the day after thi dptlesentatiouO tf the forged Jury of the Seeaiomeand eo ready tveem they checks by Redmnond. a potion named Rtobert- to further the proceeding that todicita#6eto* son engaged him to drivee bins to the "?&re were e'@: found by them at onee. The trial ewe, -***that lie acted singualarly throaaglaoutu-se then aet down for the foilowiog term, and tee ride, and in addition to casking many cim- Ion thusI15th, the dread ordeal comaenced. plc quoeutone, dieplayed iromerice amounts ef ['ale, nervous, eod fearfol, Redmond was imoney ae hack'noeste, which he staffed Flow bogtit h cs crowded Clr and broughtan t:e feln';s doc.C Courmetan and then carelessly in difterent plockets aboutdok ionem tcd tais person; that on their arrival at the hotel ignominy had told with leveble effect upon at the place or their destination, the etrangirr him.- The bloom hod faded from hi. checks; took a large handfial of the bill., with a tot the flowing curratures, of unteouabled* health of letters, and a kcy, and folding thrm all op which had abounded in lus form, had given togetherrin, an coneoipo, directed it to Red. place to sharp and cntaeouat~ed angles, and his mood; then telling witneas it contained bold, cheerfol, CareCleeo eye glared Cavemenou 00.700. requested him Ito hand rt to Wed- and haggard, deep ixe the rocames of hilt head. mooad, and daeected him, if he pot it into the Ie( gazed for n mocment fartinelyr around in postoaffice. anstead of delivering it In peenon, vueach for a sympathoizing glance, bat chillced t6 be cure and senl the parcel before doipg to death by the walls on walle of cold and so. He obeyed the direction by handing it cag-er eyrei that peered unmorod upon hes to Rrdmond in person. who received at Imath. miaery, he abandoned hOli-effort -in dleapair. out aaarpfize. cod only reroorked 00 takin, it, lVthere wan that 1 cortsciousnesas of inno. -thatkat u-as -aal-nairglat!"Here %-am an anci. cence" Vto bear aim op which vain and super. dent that included enery element of strcing ficial moralist. are- so fond of scooting ae the careoborcuon, laod the prosecutors prened lie consolation, of the guiltless I Contrast it.9 clomplaint atainaet the uonfortunatec accosed efficcts with tho uoshakan confidence of the anew, cud with a good heart. The man Ru- crime..ulaincd.- and pam'pered fiend who eat bertsoa. who had n--It been heard of since, u-ac calmly by the county pemtecotor's side to ac. regarded as the' fugitive aiccomptca nainod cune hior,cnd we find an 'answer: an cramer by Wane, and cvery feature of the story now 'that tilli uo that coasree,bapdeord, indorated ecemed complete. guait an incapable of that refined and piercing~ lmprcmaral ith the straightforward story agony which strikes so deep in b thd pore' of Ware,rand overwhelmed with the poni t,%e and pancirablo souL Infamy, the sharpest testimony of the cashiers and the maea of weapon of avenging Juatice, snake, no mm. coevnorantie testaimony, the Grand Jury of pressilon upon one, whbile ait stabe the other to the Oyer sod Terminer unhesitatangly found the very heart. Talk not of the consolation two bills of indictment on the 1st Deccimber of innocence! Hell can invent no torture an Sgannt"u Timothy B. Redmroed, amplcaded refieed as thaa, to the ealndcmrsred who cannot woil John'5R~ed and Daviad lWre-o nc being make it known. Jbe botglsýavyaid thes ather for forgery. The broken ener-gicsofc Redmond wereewa-, Iname~dastoly upon this ronoult, Redmond, pablo of one more effort. He beckoned to hin byjhe adnife of his counnel, commencod a caaansokiand tautly begged that he might be cult against Daniel Etiherrn, of the Union pwmliWd to leave that aignominious box and be Bank, for false aimprisonment, and laid'his Iicoated bt their aide. The Court listened an daubg" at 820,0010. This, however, thoogh die motion and gracaously aosented to it. the naturail recours of wronged and injured Ware wad the fleet watoecs called. With. LOSVILLT VFRZKT, NEW-TOILL Wafliam Petien. Afiere this I wan frequently in the habl -t -ofveiet Redmond at 'his hotel, hut an we had some things an preparation, he advised me not tos come there so often, as It moight ocean eavs-picion. He, Reed and I, ua" frequenalylo go out at night together for roguiashliurpaoses. One night prenious to the burglary we went together to the Bowery Tkvoire, and while there Reed cot off a gen. dlemon's pocket. It eusntaioed a pocket book with eigh ty-sit dollars In it. tmrhiu we divided in going home. -Ir was sahred equally. I got for my portion aiirip-thaee dotrsr.0 I tied not been doing- any busanena in particular for some time. f1usend frequetly to pass counterfeit money which Reed would furnish me. The plan for robbing 1.I TaI nx-ewoo concocted-one evening whale we were all three walkcang. from thne American Hotel (where wec freqaaedl.ly met afler Redmond cautaoned~me not to comne 10 his place.) dowon to Church itreet, When we bed toed Corey thing rightt, we all wsent down to'eoutlt sireel about nmidnight on the Zt)h Seplteniber. Redmond and Reed went In while I stayed outaide to vsfhtilcA1e ottv hsasx(A laugh.) Atler they hod etayed an foe omne time they broaght out a bundlo of 11apers. Huwland's check wans filled itt by Reed, in t6m Exchanve, wi-th ink which be toeklt ettaofa tatdoe bottle that he carried an hif pocktt, anod which be hod procured for thedpaeroow at. Hiowlotd's store. QOnthe 1Lrth Oclibec they' gane me a chteck to draw on the Merchants* Bank fi_-zr3,500.O Redmond, who handed it to me, wait~ed on the corner of Nassau and Wall streets till I. came back. I olhnred the chieck to the Chibide, hot on hes turning to exomine~the books,, I got frightened and ran off. I then went bock and gone the check to Redatond, tihb, on t~akiog it, called me a fool, and went himsnelf to the Union Bunk ond casbed thae check fur S7,760:atnd pat the-money an his b~t-t~ail pocket. He got in. payment one,i SSttO oat note, two S1 000e, oat 550 add one S10. He had on at the time en oldish black hat and a dark groenach cositJ We th'ee went down to the North River, through Dey street, to the steamboat i Congress,' and divided the money tat the privy. Redmond -then gave me Mere Ie awasld dbilrset of the money ans my Tlae dereiscs veantthmeta was ncot oveetleeked by Redmond's asaaate ceset. I Ueere the pef~urees arithmetictripsup his ewemewu, sand he alsonukmsamamor na rtsaoaaaidstmske in trying to coonsaertund amouiat of IM so of as acatueged t afttI I share, and offered me one of the $1000's to pro-. snet the other check. I then went to the Franklin Bank with Reed, who went in anad changeid3$800. We all met again about ami hoar afterwards at the United States Bank ana changed the 95WO note theme. I wall not tell u-beres Reed ie now, because I do not wash to get him into the ocrapq., hdc I wan induced to bear evidence oagant Redmond, am I thought if I did not be would gel the start ana! blow Om me. I belle" be and Read used oftn to*get the beet of me in our operations and' oaks me an~jhut in the end I base'taken themý all on. The last tome I suw Redmond prenious to beleg confronted with~ himn st'ths polife was at the'American Hotel. I behave af he is pressegd herd lie will confres his guilt. I have no ek. pectation of geteang Clear by thus teetimony, but give it tiaiceae Redmond han anjured me and led me into scrapes." When Ware left the stand a rustle of re-. lief went 'rtunkd the Coort, and agaid all eyea were tamed upon the prieener to i~rutiraize the ieffect of thevse reveatnhhntaf Of his guilt. tHe betrayed no sign, however, except a deep depression, saddaring the Wotlmosy only evinced his agaeetinhg panga btatsit deanional ehudder whicb shook.-Ws-whale fralbe. Edwered A..hfas&ef, ie -paying tleter of the Merehants' BEab,e we next catted, and uteafimi cthat Redeoded we. the man who presented Aspinwall's check-tie him on ther I:th October. IHe Insisted thpat'ha could not he mistaken, an he had noticced thierprisoner very olqviti. e thie toins and peeetved that he was sllakily poeknmrked.e J. LLggere, the first toller of-thie'Franklia Baek. recollected distinctly the faet of a per..,-son having changed a $500 note~of the Unmen Bank at bass coueter on the 15th October. The mant who brought it waa'Bedioned. Ho coold not be mistaken, as be iad-vo'ited him. subsequently in prisom. Shortly alter clswg ing the $500 note, another m~an had came In-, wtiom 1b. now recognised tot he Ware, andl saw a81300 on the Bank of Aiaqeica changed for him. Danaie Ebbelte, the pyiynog Ssllr of the Union flank, ' believed Redmond to be theL man who presented the 57,760 adieck to him.~ hot did not feet willing to swear positively to him, an ho considered It a very delicate thing to sweor positively againat any mnicwbo had preniously borne a good character# Hue mm. pressisna, however, wero very strong, and ho hardly thonght he cotuld be 'ffiostakee.- This estromo caution no, the part of Ebbetts was doobtIoso indusced by 9 dread -of. the coesieqoencre of the east fso'4aaagea which had already been commoenced against lim by Redmond. Hlowland and *Aoiaenwaai next tostified, to tho fia;.,t of thte eht~cks, and RalphaWatson. tho: keeper of thi reading rooma at &~a Ameri-. run [otod, jateotoced by Ware as the place I~rTofernoto.roo. teatdiecd to having seeo Ware and Redmond tirere about the middle of Sep. tcmhtcr, thoogh ho dad not rocollect ever hay. iog seen them together. Ten witnessem u-era then introduced (ram among the employees in Redmonta hodsee. hold, who testifed to his havangboost confined at home the whole of the 15th of October wath a slight derangement of the bowels, though sight of hinm had been lest at, Ietervals on baa retiring to his roomItse alibi, therefore, was no mome perfect than Hold. gate's would havc boee upon a similar anres tigatmon. Trhree witnesses, D. Manro.,*Charles Cos. THE MORALIZING MUCKRAKER I "In this Christian age, 'Tis strange, you'll engage, When everything's doing high crimes to assuage, That the direst oflenses continue to rage; That fibbing and fobbing, And thieving and robbing, The foulest maltreating, And forging and lifting, And wickedly shifting The goods that belong to another away, Are the dark misdemeanors of every day." DARK and sinful, indeed, were the ways of the city of New York in the Forties. The poet of the period from whom we have just quoted had much material for his nimble fancy, which touched on doings even more fell and varied than those referred to in his next two lines: "And then, too, the scrapes of seductions and rapes, And foulest of crimes in the foulest of shapes." Only shortly before this rhythmic catalogue of crime had been accorded the majesty of print by the National Police Gazette, the new Halls of Justice, which soon came to be known as the Tombs Prison, had raised their somber heights. The gibbet had already been erected for the third time in the prison yard, and the cells had been the scene of a combined marriage, honeymoon and tragic suicide; an incident enthralling in drama and romance. The world, indeed, had not yet ceased talking of the final hours upon this earth, of John C. Colt, brother of the inventor of the revolver, who, after a long legal battle that carried through one court after another and a lavish expenditure of money, had been sentenced to pay the penalty for the murder of Samuel Adams. Caroline Henshaw, although not married to Colt, was during his incarceration, a constant visitor to the Tombs. It was the doomed man's desire to marry her before he was hanged, and the marriage ceremony [3] iwrM wriv = oI uaa m 'Y~anx l Xg e mminol-wtDAH vcoMxV maNI t~aDng(IRV M-n osmtoi )IHOA MMam HI -iu ii'' Lam ARN k. i-PS _5 T4'D4, I A AW JP K'<. p I 4N N: \ \ -.. -KS ASD i1 TAW I, I I I r4:; s! SINS OF NEW YORK was performed at noon of the fatal day, the time of execution having been fixed for four hours later. The bride was accompanied by Colt's brother and inappropriately enough by John Howard Payne, author and composer of "Home Sweet Home." The Rev. Mr. Anthon performed the ceremony. By law the mistress became the wife just in time to become the widow. The marriage took place in the presence of David Graham, Robert Emmett, Justice Merritt, John Howard Payne, and the brother of the doomed man. After it was over the bride and groom were allowed to be alone one hour. And after this brief honeymoon the wife departed and Colt requested to be alone. Just as the sheriff was about to intrude upon the prisoner's privacy to summon him to the gibbet an alarm of fire was raised. The cupola of the prison was ablaze. The hanging was forgotten in the excitement; but once the blaze was extinguished the sheriff remembered his job and sought his prisoner. Upon his bed in the cell John C. Colt was stretched, with his hands composedly crossed upon his bosom and a knife buried in his heart. There were those, the Police Gazette included, who hinted that the body found was not that of Colt but a corpse prepared for the occasion, and that the supposed suicide escaped either to Texas or California. The coroner, it was charged, was aware of the deception, and his jurymen were selected for their ignorance of Colt's appearance. New York was a lawless city, as had been proved in the mysterious murder of Mary Rogers, a recent happening, and one that was ever to remain a crime unsolved. It was high time a new organized police had come to take the place of the old police, better known as Leatherheads, who had guarded the city previous to 1844. They prowled the town at night in camlet cloaks, carried huge lanterns and cried the hour. Their leather caps were varnished twice a year and became like iron. But we are now come to the year of Our Lord, I845. Only a few months before, in the Polk-Clay presidential campaign, political excitement had been running precariously high. During one of the mass meetings, among the out-of-town delegations that marched down Park Row, were the Mill Boys, one thousand strong. A joyous free fight had developed during which knives, swords, pistols, clubs and fists were brought into play, six were killed and many dangerously wounded. At this time, what was known as the "lamp district" did not extend above Fourteenth Street. The corrupt administration of Mayor Robert H. Morris had [5] SINS OF NEW YORK already felt the resentment of angry taxpayers at the public polls. Civic indignation was expressed over the fact that a city with a population of 400,000 persons should have a police department only eight hundred strong, and there was bitter protest against these men being compelled to work more than twelve hours a day. The Committee of Streets had reported in favor of employing Professor Morse to A GIRL LAMPLIGHTER. construct the new magnetic telegraph so as to communicate with all police stations in town. The City Corporation lad engaged Mr. Ackerman, the sign painter on Nassau Street, to affix the names of the streets on the gas-lamps. The "unregenerate and unscrupulous vermin of the Five Points was for a time confined to its own breeding ground, which, in its debasements of crime and filth had been found to rival even the Whitechapel district of London, from which it had inherited many [6] K, I 2 7 \" 89 4 44 MS xo ii * jf L SINS OF NEW YORK of its denizens." Not that the old town had been relegated to a tame place, confesses the Gazette some time later:.for the devotees of Melody, Bacchus and Cupid there were many celebrated sporting haunts flourishing in the neighborhood of Broadway Church and Walker Streets and along Park Row. The most famous probably wýis the Cooper House, corner Anthony (later Worth) Street and Broadway. And The Senate, in Church Street, was generally well thronged with women rich in raiment and poor in chastity. Sandy Lawrence's hostelry, famed for its "square meals," was only a few minutes' walk from this resort. Mike Murphy (the celebrated Irish pugilist) had his sporting drum on Broadway, corner Leonard Street. "Butter-Cake" Dick's coffee-and-cake saloon under the Tribune building was a respectable though popular hang-out. For those who liked politics with their refreshments, on Elm Street was The Ivy Green, headquarters of the Empire (afterwards the Americus) Club, then the Democratic stronghold of the State. It was presided over by John Clancy, later a member of the State Legislature. Tom Hyer, first champion pugilist of America, was at 26 Park Row, which was the headquarters for the Unionists, the Whig organization. There was strong rivalry between the two headquarters and the flagstones of Park Row were often thumped mercilessly with the brawny carcasses of the combatants. Notwithstanding claims that, through new reforms, New York had suddenly become the best regulated city in the world, violations against law, morality and [8] [8] SINS OF NEW YORK public welfare were still so much in evidence in 1845 that two of its more or less consequential citizens deemed it a fitting time to provide a new method of combating the evil-doer. And in this way there came into being the first of the American illustrated newspapers. It was named the National Police Gazette and the name has never been changed. To the memory of not a few of the present generation, but in the main that of its fathers and grandfathers, the attractions of the Gazette's pink pages and what its pictures and printed content stood for, is still fairly fresh. But of the Gazette of three-quarters of a century and more ago, and its interesting history, little is now known. Its purposes and intent can best be explained by referring to its prospectus, which is reprinted in part, herewith. The necessity of such an instrument as the National Police Gazette to assist the operations of the Police department, and to perform the species of service which does not lie within the scope of the present system, will make itself felt at a glance. Our city, and indeed the whole country, swarms with hordes of English and other thieves, burglars, pickpockets, and swindlers, whose daily and nightly exploits give continual employment to our officers, and whose course through the land, whatever direction they may take, may be traced by their depredations. These offenders, though known to our most experienced members of the police, are protected from the scrutiny of the community at large; and the natural result is, that the unconscious public are in continual contact with miscreants who date their last stationary residence from the walls of Newgate, the shores of Botany Bay, or who have but recently left the confines of our own State Prison. It is of first importance that these vagabonds should be notoriously known. The success of the felon depends mainly upon the ignorance of the community as to his character, and until a system be adopted which will effectually hold him up to public shame and irrevocable exposure, the public will remain at the mercy of his depredations and nine-tenths of his fraternity go scot-free of any punishment. Suffering under the continually increasing evils which the immunity thus enjoyed by large classes of offenders has encouraged, plan after plan has been devised, and system after system to reform and remedy, projected. The throes of years, and the undiscouraged travail of a thousand brains, instead of resulting in the adoption of new, bold and (,riginal measures, has merely eventuated in the remodelling of a department. The pressthe mightiest conservator of social welfare-has been left from the category of appliances, while every other branch of civil polity feels the force of its protective surveillance. [9] SINS OF NEW YORK The success of felons depends mainly, as we said before, upon the public ignorance of their persons and pursuits. It will be our object, therefore, to strip them of the advantages of a professional incognito, by publishing a minute description of their names, aliases, and persons; a succinct history of their previous career, their place of residence at the time of writing, and a current account of their movements from time to time. By this means the most dangerous offenders, the knowledge of whose infamy has slept for years in the bosoms of a few tenacious officers, will be spotted from one end of the Union to the other, and every community throughout its length and breadth be put upon its guard against them. The peculiar stock in trade of the officers will be made the common propperty of the public; and the felon, branded with his shame, will be pointed ~41, OEORGE WILKES, TB FOUEDou of =rn "rouc outsl" ALXD OTraa JOvUAL,. LArTU. DirCa. out on all sides, and be stripped of the social impunity which mainly emboldened him to offense. The result of an active adoption of this course must therefore necessarily be to drive all resident rogues to a more safe and congenial meridian, and to deter all floating tribes of vagabond adventurers from embarking to a region where an untiring and ubiquitous minister of public justice stands ready to hold them to the public gaze until they become powerless from the notoriety of their debasement. II It happened like this: George Wilkes, a journalistic genius of his day, and Enoch Camp, who had turned from journalism to the law and then combined both [ 10 ] SINS OF NEW YORK callings, were the founders of the original Gazette. The first-mentioned, just previous to this venture, had been the editor of a four-paged publication dubbed The Subterranean, which was devoted in the main to the expose of the source of various political incomes, and how these were derived from inelegant vices. Wilkes exposed to such purpose that he was set on by gangsters numerous times and was even shot at twice. In addition, he was arrested no less than six times. The final arrest, though followed by the demise of The Subterranean, had an unpleasant aftermath for the administration of the city of New York. The editor's reports made up from what he had seen and heard during his residence at the Tombs made -~ -- GEORGE W. M.ATSELL, Esq.,'Chief of New York City Police. itself felt in the ensuing election by Mayor Robert H. Morris all the way down to the warden of the Tombs. Camp made an ideal partner for Wilkes. Camp handled the business and legal end of the affairs of the concern, while Wilkes had charge of the editorial end. After a few years Camp retired a rich man, and George W. Matsell, while yet a Chief of Police in New York, became a part owner. This partnership lacked the business acumen possessed by Camp, whose association with Wilkes must have been exciting while it lasted. If one chronicler is to be believed, the very first appearance of the new publication had fatal results. Its first number chanced to be carried to the place of call of Jonas Burke, on Delancey Street, where the palatable blend in which he special[II] SINS OF NEW YORK ized gave his house the name of Gin and Calumus Hall. Some one took exception to an item in the Gazette and words wound up in a mele from which the proprietor emerged minus a couple of fingers and a portion of one ear, while the instigator had his nose very much disarranged, and a participant, who proved to be Croucher Collins, was carried out dead. In the Gazette's initial issue, dated October I i, I845, and under the title of "Lives of the Felons," the first of a series dealing with the notorious criminals of the period was started. No. I, in this series, gave the opening chapter in the career of Robert Sutton, alias "Bob the Wheeler," whose exploits, to lift from the Police Gazette, "were they not substantiated by irrefragable proofs, they would be discarded by the most susceptible imaginations as the merest vagaries of fiction." We will deal with this villain in a separate chapter, so it may be seen that the amanuensis in question did not let his fancy or flow of English run away with him. Before taking temporary leave of "Bob the Wheeler," it should be recorded how that personage was instrumental in putting the Gazette temporarily out of business, which happened every now and then. Soon after his release from jail, which was not so long after the completion of his life story in the Gazette columns, Bob Sutton descended on the latter's headquarters with a number of his cohorts, among them James Downer, the resurrectionist (whose grave-robbing exploits had been given attention by the Gazette). The roughs and the police milled all over Centre Street, and the railroad-tracks, which had not yet been laid down West Street to the Canal Street Depot of the Hudson River Railroad, were ripped up and used as weapons. Downer and two others of the Sutton forces were killed this time. Sergeant Belcher, who with Tim Mooney, the Keel Layer, were the bodyguards of Wilkes, were the only Gazette casualties. Mooney, who was alleged to have killed two policemen during a London riot, was only slightly injured, while Belcher suffered a broken arm. Though a mob of close to two hundred attacked the Gazette, the press and editorial rooms, then in the cellar of 27 Centre Street, seem to have been well barricaded. It was quite necessary that the Gazette sanctum should be well barricaded, as it was in a more or less perpetual state of siege from the rage of the underworld. The most serious assault came in i85o, and this time six deaths resulted. Not only Wilkes himself and Belcher were carried to the hospital, but so was the Gazette's star reporter, Andrew Frost, who passed away from his wounds. Of the attacking [ 12 ] SINS OF NEW YORK mob, which was led by Country McCloskey, who had stood one hundred rounds with Tom Hyer, Nobby McChester and other ruffians of the Five Points, and such well-known Amazons as Lizzie the Poor Beauty, and Donkey Dora Cole, five were left dead in the streets. The plant of the paper was demolished this time. These were perilous times for crusading tirades. Only the year before, which had opened with the excitement of the California gold rush, it had been the unfortunate duty of the militia to pour a rifle volley into a mass of rioting humanity, and twenty-two bodies had been left in Astor Place shot or trampled to death. While this horror was the outcome of jealousy between Edwin Forrest and the English tragedian, William C. Macready, there is plenty of reason for the belief that political chicanery brought about the crisis. Forrest had been coldly received in England. This was charged to Macready's envy and to the criticisms of the cuspidorial customs of the United States by Charles Dickens during a visit to this country. On May 7, 1849, both Forrest and Macready played Macbeth in New York and the latter's performance was broken up. Washington Irving and other leading citizens persuaded Macready to give another performance three nights later. On the same day handbills of an inflammatory character branding the appearance of the English actor as an insult to our Americanism were distributed through the city wherever they would do most harm. It was later proved by the Gazette that the handbills had been ordered by some one who had headquarters at the Empire Club, which was then led by Captain Isaiah Rynders. Where Bible House now stands was a stone-yard; also a sewer was being constructed along Fourth Avenue. Cobblestones and the contents of the yard made plentiful ammunition for the infuriated mob that descended on the Astor Place Theater to break up the Macready performance. When the militia was finally brought to the aid of the police the first round of fire was discharged above the heads of the rioters. Still they would not disperse. The fatal command then followed. Going into the Fifties the Gazette was up against a twofold fight, battling not only the breakers of the law, but its guardians as a combination in addition. The municipality was sinking into such a mire of political corruption that in I857 the city of New York was declared by the Legislature to be unfit to govern itself. There were two antagonistic police forces for a time that were more concerned in battling each other for authority than they were in fighting the enemies of public safety. As "an untiring and ubiquitous minister of public justice" the Police Gazette [ 13] SINS OF NEW YORK didn't have a chance. Still the weekly fired its barbs of righteous indignation, only the targets were far too numencrous. That frightful sink of human degeneracy in the forbidding heart of the Five Points, known as the Old Brewery, has been demolished several years by now. But the building, known as "the wickedest dwelling in the world" and its environs, had constituted merely the scum of human depravity and made up a quarter repellent to the normal citizen. The glittering and protected profligacy that had come into brazen existence along Broadway and Houston Street and its adjacent votaries is a far more dangerous snare. One of the first and worst in the area is the tough concert saloon at 50 Houston Street and of which the proprietor, Charley Sturges, is well known to the entire crooked brigade of both sexes. At this place plots are hatched to break into banks, flood the country with "queer," spirit some pal out of prison, to put away some principal or witness, or to square it with the police. Here not a little counterfeit engraving is turned out by that first-class workman, "Cooley" Keyes. This is a fair example of how the Gazette kept after the underworld, a tribute to its courage rather than its judgment under the existing conditions. The attack was kept up on 50 Houston Street even after "Dusty Bob" took over the place and held forth there until he was called to "do his bit in the jug" for cutting off the ears of some one who had annoyed him in a crib on Ninth Avenue. Any number of similar places were given attention in the columns of the Gazette. There was Poughkeepsie Jake's at 27 Houston Street, and the House of Commons, which was right next door. And Fanny White's too well-known "palace of joy"; where her successor, Eliza Pratt, was referred to as "the madame known to widest shame in her day." Close by on Broadway was Stanwix Hall, where "Bill the Butcher" Poole was done to death shortly after his historic rough-and-tumble fight with John "Old Smoke" Morrissey. Near by was Abe Florence's famous The Corner, and a block or so away was Phil Maguire's equally notorious Lafayette Hall. Here and hereabouts the loosest and most desperate characters of the city were wont to congregate. Not only did the felon and fancy female hold forth in this district, but likewise the so-called sporting element, which was then made up of "shoulder-hitters," dog-fighters, gamblers, actors and politicians. Here festered an appalling record of knifing, shooting, gouging, biting and manhandling affrays, ['14] SINS OF NEW YOIIK and mayhem and murder. Jim Irving, who, like Morrissey, later became a member of the Legislature, and Jack Somerindyke "tasted each other's mutton." Poole beat and kicked Wally Mason so severely he never recovered, and Poole's brotherin-law, Charley Lozier, had holes blown through him by Johnny Lyng-just to cite a few of the doings with which the Gazette regaled its readers. Some years after the Gazette presented a list of the hangers-on of the Houston Street resorts who met a violent end, and enumerated half-a-hundred without much trouble. Some, like Poole and Tim Heenan, brother of Jlhn C. Heenan, of pugilistic fame, were shot to death; others, including William Farley, better known as Reddy the Blacksmith, and Jack Hilton, alias the Limerick Boy, were carved to eternity; and not a few were hanged. The original Gazette started off bravely enough, but battling the criminal ranks when these were backed by the police and the politicians, was simply too much of an undertaking. III One of the very first exposures that exercised the indignation of the Police Gazette had to do with the ruinous effects of policy gambling. For a time the prize numbers were drawn from a wheel on the steps of the old City Hall in the Park, until the Legislature, in 1832, annulled the charter of the lottery company. It moved over to New Jersey, where it was drawn as late as 1850. After being driven out of New Jersey the lottery companies operated from Delaware, Maryland, Louisiana and other southern states. The operations of the drawing were revealed and one was also initiated into the mysteries of "station" and "day" numbers, "gigs," "whips" and "saddles." It was explained how "through this system of insurance" men of extensive capital were reaping a monetary harvest at the expense of the poor and at a rate of 31 per cent profit. The results of this are easy to be seen. Its deluded victims, unable to satisfy its exorbitant demands by their legitimate earnings, yield to its corrupting influence and commence pilfering from their employers. Step by step they wade deeper into crime, until advancing beyond the limit of precaution they are "engulfed" in ruin. The miserable victim is then consigned to the horror of a cell, and subsequently to a convict's doom, while those who are chargeable for his guilt, those who suborned him by their devilish traffic into crime, curse him for a "d--d black rascal," and riot in the avails of his plunder. [ 15] r -~ ~~~-- ~T L'3- -_ f" i 'I L r~~-~i~d~~c ~ruJ 7~LC~. -4ii ~ ( r, r,. ''\\6 Lid I I I. i "YO" YU v Co om q SPARIKING IN TOMPKINS PARK. A PLACE WHICH CUPIb HAS MADE HIS FAVORITE STAMPING GROUND, AND WHERE THE STERN PATZRFAMILIAS IS WONT TO APPEAR. [16] SINS OF NEW YORK We do not hesitate to say, and we believe facts will bear us out, that nine-tenths of the crime and prostitution of the colored classes of the city are produced either directly or indirectly by policy gambling. Examine our prisons and see if the history of their inmates will not attest to this fact. [Apparently the Demon Rum did not get 'its just due for fell work.] Is this longer to be endured? Are the authorities of our city any longer to foster these jackals by tolerating their nefarious practices? Is the statute to be defied and the law mocked by a horde of villains who cluster like flies in every street where poverty has shrunk to its abode, and where gasping labor can be extorted of its pittance in the vain hope of casting a golden anchor in the future? What lacks, good Messieurs of the sword and scales? Cannot evenhanded justice, who bestows her slashing strokes so liberally upon the impoverished and friendless victim, make one of her six cuts over the costards of this contemptible banditti? Do we live under laws, or is ruin and defiance licensed to grin from bow windows of five thousand dens of plunder without rebuke, while a force of eight hundred men loaf by turns on grocer's barrels, or hang about hydrants to pass soft compliments to errand serving-maids, or waste their tremendous energies upon the apprehension of wandering drunkards? Is there no one man in the country, in remembrance of his oath, bold enough to step into these nurseries of crime and cry "Forbear to violate the law!" That is the kind of paper the original National Pc/ice Gazette was-at the start. As a result of the attack on the policy-gambling interests, the following letter of warning came to the offices of Messrs. Camp & Wilkes: Some dozen of us have determined (if you persist in annoying us) to annoy you in a more disagreeable manner than the one you have so unsuccessfully aimed at us. Yours, THE POLICY Boys The Police Gazette, as already indicated, got quite used to this sort of thing through its years as a reform publication. And as for libel suits, they welcomed them. We do not heed threats or libel suits. We are strong in the -justice of our motives and will have out the truth at any cost whatsoever. We " vneveA% r ddgda chalnlengrime *or vdda netgton"our li~lves. V11 Those11, SINS OF NEW YORKK THE ARtNUAL RECORD. Ito Eoormous Total and Wide Distribution. Ca-, prices of Fortune. A Partial list of the primes above Ova Thousiud Dol. tar. paid by The Louisiana State Lottery CbmPany during the year ending May, LUGs. togelher with the.man@ and addresses given toý the Company by the holders, omitting those who have requesed It. Receipts for the amounts are on dife at the oMces e,the Company. bDT4AWDIG OF JUNE 17,.1884 & X. lothfchild, U2 Chureh street. New York... 28,08 Philip.J. Orubef.eMlltAauke.., Wis..7........... *.*..4,000 Philp Konen,1,88 Casav;ueht. Louis, Mo. 2,=0 D. Oeo. HenkelsJPhi ladeip hi, a.............. *0....2,000 Chas. Clarkt, Phtiladelphia. Pa................... 2,080 A. P. Badiam. collected throuien Wells, Fargo & Cro's Bank Sao. Francisco, Wal............a. 2.000 Win. Bqydd. 22 SchooL satreet, St. L-oulA Mo **:,:2.000 Frank =n nlgham, San Franciscou, ed.....,0 DRAWING OF JULY 13,.1h54 Renk of Commeres, Memohis. Tenn..&%.a.4....,13,0(0 9.-4. Sewell. Spring Creek. Teenn........ to.... 8, 0a0 LB.L Comnstock, M58Nilnth street, Milwaukee...,600 We Lund. West Oakland Col-al -s-oms 4 Chris. Hettinger Mew p~ale. `~o'n....... f.a.4..1,206 Mrs.REMma Ld rd. Noriblk.......1,0 DRAWLNG OF A73CUST t i, us Bugnne11audlnsl, ew Orleansl,La........40---.. 50 Lot emour, eareter, Er positIou Buildings, New Orleans, LA....*..&............,............,15,000 Win. de B. Elliott, Whitney Natilonal Bank, New Orleans, Iaa...... a...........6,000 T. &. Tutwiter Hanford, 4a..~.a......4000 A. B. (Ilover, 12i So Coit01on ave., St. Louis, Hto- 2,400 ]ewis S. Day. N ew Haven,0 cl............ 1.200 Chase. Foote, Uolchester, ct.L.......... oessme........,200I' DRAWING CF SEPTEMriR81f1884IS V rX Cu0nnift.2UN6Spruce street MIAbiLe.....,15,Mo 2oi P. Alpman, = Sibruce Aree,, 4t. Louis. Menry W. Hubhner. U.s.8 Towhoat "Wm. Stone," Drovers & Mechanics Nat. Bank, Bmomre.5,w J1. Jacohs, 1,40 Mission streete.. Ban, "Cisco, 1mIi s.B S. Durat. Seo Frandecot("&al,. 5.000 VUnion & Planters Bank. Memp~lsw eu.. 5,00 Robert Lockre, Memphis, Tenn..a....at?... 5,000 F. B..BuLdClmbus avnude, Boston.Mas...4:000 I. A. Bro a.n corner Montigojmery and Washlngs ionosrees, San Francisco. Cul -.6.,4.000 Bank of New Ha var, WmlnaiSon B-......,2,000 3Natban Lieiber, 40 V~e vue, Pitlsbig Pa^..I1,200.DRAWING OF OCTOREII 14, 1864. Louisiana Nationale]Bank. New Orleans, La-..Ld.i 75.000 Barry Smith, Greenv~lle, ts,..... i.a....j, 5,000 Wm-. M. Kennedy, Planter Greenvllle.-Miss. 5,..3000 A. C. Benneitt, 210edgwwlk at reet, Chicago, ni-...'............ 600 Seg.JmsSclott,0...........4si-.Tatium Diasrict Parolman 3. Dougherty..,....... P6lice Force 1210 Patrolman Con. Daisy, Mempbls6 3 enna.....i,..,.ee,11,20 DRA*IXG OF NqOVzmbm lt tI1"L4 'Thob Mulbern, 1=103i Wasington street, q ton MAssN...15,...00 Frank Croc'k*e-9tt,,Ena---..gleN.12,SanFra..so15,000 Jnoh.. Mobqrl~.,jtsrrodsbarg; Ky....a15 o11 Louis.1. WndDonalalaonvllle; a....., lopo Roht. Itlehrer 1.541 UChristlan street, Phil&ta..ia3,00w Frank R:. Duhey, 47 Wanshington etreet.,lý ford, C0onn..,.......... s...a....L 5o0 S.L Orr Stephenville. T...2,000.y. Brotherlhood, Milwaukee, Wi.j,,.je,0 Chase B. Mueller. 400 Locust %treesft:"1 koutsG Mo................;....*..as.#$... 0..-... 6... 1,210W?Ir$t National haukr. Indianapol01is, Ind.......... 1,2100 Browoson & Sibley, Bankers. Victoria, Tex a.... 1,3 DRAWING OF DECsEftE 18, 1884 J. Be Kuttner 0Georgetown Ky k........--. 0,000 Can&l Hank. iRew Orlsans. L30:...,......000 sot First National Bank, Memphltj,l'en....15,000 Paul Tiacher, main FrancisaC al.....15,00 HaenryLevy, San Prantisco, Cal........ 16,000 Qleq H. tlasckeliord, Fireman M.& 1.L.B. Memphi. eu.......... Gsrmnania National Batik, r#sw OrleabamAe 0M~l,a Trt aub. 'I mploywesof A. Otiebet j~ren 'Irab. &aMot, Brewars, Dotrptt, w i11'llsa aBrommer. I.Mi.h...... 00.... 8,00 tul n.Not-s I *Gus. Phillips, M1emph is, so.w.......,0 Mrm Margaret Bressl, 4ftelhy street, Miabo, Jno.J. Mueller, 418 Hastings s;reet, bero60iN", Mlec.........................~.... 5.0= W. J. UMlgbtower, Dublfin, G0a.,... 4......,..,00 DRAWING OF JAVAJARY 13,18Ila Thomas X. Tbornibb, Ahelbytrille, Jl........75,000 Daniel Rhuit, Cnlcago 1[T. -................~...... state National l"Un, ~ew Urilraus, XLa....., 5,0o6900 N. IL Browne, fairimount. Jail.............. 006. 5,000 A. I. Hall, with Sanger Bros., Dallas, Texas;.--.. 2,000 L tail Cheadle, Dallas. Texas.... a...~............:.;. 2.400 1uls H. Kaichan, of StiAx. Krouse& CO.., tuictn. 0.3J....r... C6nc..........................,0 a.G0. Vines, ULeincpmNeb 0........ode......20 Wells,, Fargo & Co., IpnFacscCl...=..0 DRAWING OV FEB3RUARY 10, 188L.. A. Vatponet, Hotel Italla, San Frtancisco, (hf...: 5.0 Bertha Carey, AlgonaI... 6.000eoO Mrs. 3. B. Franz, Mansfleld, 0........... 6,00 First Nat. Bank Of Blrniluglutna. Pittshnrg, Pw,.. 2,000 F. Ooesskl, 423l1street. Wasblugton.D.3).. 1 30011 Reuben Joel. 02 Monroe streer Lynn, Mpaa.-WINS. 2,00 B. W. Bradhury, Woodland, ln...,P DRAW[ING OF hi hIRCHR 10,1488L Geo. A.-Spear, Hay City, Mlcli....... 700 Henry 'L.Schmitot, Memphis,.Ten......,00 Gabe Poindexter Mason Depot, fTenn.......oo6 o5@M0 RlU hNell, Msayhild, Ky...... 5,000....0.......Bo T.za..Itoach,State National B.Aazk, N~ew 0.ljeans.ý 2.000 State National Bank, Les........................... 2oeo,000= Lewis Johnson & Co., Wasningt a, D.o.. '2..Amt Louis Hins, 433 Turk street,11au francisco. Cal.. 27.6a0 Susan Fegan, 402 Hayes street, San Emructseo, Cal.........,.................................. s U. Lalond, san Francisco, Cal............... Is= 120 WelbeyW. Bargin, Richmond,.......1,0 DRAWING OF A PRTL 14, UL8. John W. Haywood. 3S Charlton slrc.pt, gaatay*. nab.Gas..........................................a.~ 1,0 W. C. Parker, Wlndtall, Ind.................._.."15,000 F.Sendrup, Donaldsonvillie, La...........c Washing9ton, D. C........................ i 1,00 J. A. B. PutuYam, Mt. Pleasant, Tex.....a........ 15,0106 Frederick Ifaa..New York...........a................ 8,a Henry Orban,1. V. &M3arine Hosplial, San FrasnCisco, Cal................................ a5.......00.0.... 0 Fred.&.Beach, Newv York............. I........ a,,,,sZe Bank of California, San FrattcLsco. (W.a......... 4,000 Jno. M. Gies. 217 Croghsmn street Detroit, Mlch..! 4,000) Wm., J. Coolllns,G street, No W. Washington. D.J 2,000 Dau. M. Moriarty. 6 06second avenue,, NFW ota.low ('ritton & Kotents, Natchez.Mis....-LOW...,2.0 Ah bFoo. 275 Tremont street Boton, Msm,.. IMO... 11 R. C. Dotinelly. tat. Paul gi~nn....1,0 Wells, FncoaCo., Banran~o a....,..,0 Oismuel Llight. Montgomery Aa........,.0 Carso Rubey. Unl nesville.1Q704io"m DRAWING OF AY 11% 188 GeogeWilliams, Washlington, Do.0C................ 15,06 l O inZapp, Round Top, Tsr................. 15,00 Sam F. Spencer. Greeushnarg. K-....,.. 5000 Hrry Dutbon, Melrose, Mss 1%%000 P. G. exton, Bruton. Ste wart Co. Tena4~,,,.f....,.,.... sco Rlank o1 Greenville, Greenville, 3js..,...s...5000 Jno. R. Jewell, Cattaraugus, N.o.... "em....,..0.1.100 W. W. Speers, MemphiaLTenn --------- - ----- - U09, tile Wmn. Greer, LA Cygne, jas................2.000 Win. Primean, Cbatham, Out.S..... LM....0 A. Smith, 157 Cedar street ahieTeo.,..1,0 J. W. Rarris, Alna [i18] SINS OF NEW YORK Another objective that gave the Gazette considerable editorial concern in its very first days was an unusual one. It was nothing less than an argument in favor of employing females instead of males as store clerks as a remedy against theft, fraud and embezzlements in retail stores. Just get an eyeful of this: It is an undoubted fact that one-third of the whole annual amount contributed by spendthrifts and debauchees to the support of houses of ill fame in this city, comes from the pockets of retailers' clerks; and many a shining satin and rustling silk that sweeps the pave, is extracted clandestinely from an employer's store as a return for illicit favors. If females WILLAM PARKINSON, THE BARGE ROBBER. CONstUrT ATP T I:[, 1rA IgNiZC 22o. or, io.iio T4 I ICsI **CU.rroQ or $4,000 were employed in stores instead of gay young men, we should be rid of these results. The employer would find his interests in the hands of safer guardians, for women have no outside pleasures to be dishonest. We have another motive in recommending the adoption of this system. It is said that ladies prefer to purchase of male clerks, and that the main inducement that sends many a fair one out a shopping, is the desire to be waited on by rosy-cheeked young men. We do not believe this against the sex, and on this ground we would like to see Stewart undertake the refutation of the slander. In those early days, just to give a slight line on its activities, the National Police Gazette waged an interesting warfare on the prominent abortionist, Madame Restall and others; gave much unwelcome publicity to Bob Sutton; and to John A. [ 19] SINS OF NEW YORK Murrell, the great western land pirate; Joseph I. Hare, bold robber and highwayman; James Dowling, alias Cupid, the notorious pickpocket; John Honeyman, the celebrated City Bank robber; William Parkinson, the "Barge Robber," who robbed the Albany boat, the Clinton, of $34,000; and numerous others. One of its exposures found John B. Gough, foremost temperance lecturer of his time, very much intoxicated in a bawdy house on Walker Street. The following paragraph from an early number tells its own story: We offer this week a most interesting record of horrid murders, outrageous robberies, bold forgeries, astounding burglaries, hideous rapes, vulgar seductions and recent exploits of pickpockets and hotel thieves in various parts of the country. What more could any one ask for a nickel, and later for only four cents per copy (the Gazette, with rapid increase in circulation reduced its price one penny), or two dollars per annum, payable in advance? Regular departments were given over to the crimes and misdemeanors above enumerated and to "Counterfeits," "False Pretenses," "Perjury," etc. The Gazette, though opposed to capital punishment, did not share the revulsion of other contemporaries over the public execution of the first woman in the State of New York. She (Mrs. Van Volkenburgh) deserved her fate, the gallows, and thus ended the story of her execution: The drop was then let fall, and as the rope straightened upon her neck and just as she raised from her feet, she gave a shriek and thus passed from time to eternity. Thus ended the life of a lewd and wretched woman, who had sent two husbands (perhaps unprepared) into another world. IV Editorially, the National Police Gazette at the outset may seem uncouth in its treatment of news, and its comment at times must be pronounced naive. We find room for only a few examples: JUST SENTENCE-Heustis, the Long Island abductor, who ran away with another man's wife some weeks ago, has been tried for the offense of stealing the clothes which the lady wore at the time of her departure, and has been found guilty of petty larceny. He was thereupon SIN'S OF NEW YORK sentenced to imprisonment in the penitentiary for six months as a warning to all such villains in the future. According to this sentence, all scoundrels who meditate absconding with other men's wives will, hereafter, find it necessary to take them e punis naturabilis or not at all. ATTEMPTED RAPE-A villain by the name of Martin Shays, attempted a rape upon a young lady in this town Wednesday last, but entirely without success. The lady was in bed, but fought like a tigress in defense of her private rights. SHE DIDN'T LOVE HIM-Catherine Foster, a young woman of eighteen years, has been convicted of the murder of her husband, by arsenic; he was a respectable young man to whom she had been married but three weeks.0 CURIOUS SEDUCTION CASE-His Honor, Judge Edwards, of the Circuit Court, delivered several decisions, one of which, on a motion for a new trial in a case of seduction, disclosed some very curious facts, highly illustrative of the morals of the up-country folks. The case was tried by Judge Edmonds, at Hudson, September, 1844, and in which John D. Cater sought to recover damages from William H. Cook, for the seduction of his stepdaughter, Sally Ann Irvi~n. At the trial, Sally Ann testified that, in the summer of 1843, she was living as a maid servant in the family of Edward P. Livingston, Esq., where the defendant was a hired man. One warm night, she, Sally Ann, went to sleep with another gi rl in a small room in the long hail, when the girl proposed to smoke some cigars, whi~ch they did; the defendant soon after came in, put his hand on the bed, and asked who slept on the front side; a boy who was also in the bed said "Sally Ann"; he then got between the two, when she tried to get up, but the defendant lay on her clothes and she could not get away, and he tickled her so, she was out of breath, "and had to give up," and the seduction followed. The jury gave $350. damages. A new trial was asked, on the ground that a stepfather could not maintain the action, she being in service elsewhere. The court held he stood in loco parentis and denied the motion. With such goings on in the Forties, and others to which we will call attention in due tiimet,mi i viet;ht;!theN a tiona l PoliceGazetnAtehdw rk t d,-%and Copyrighted for IM3 by RICTIAJU) IC. FOX, PUloPRtZrrOR POLwuS OAsrrru NuLtltgafnro OU~, Franklin Square and Do~er Street, New York. -RICHARD iX. POX, NEW YORK, SATURDAY, MARCH 17, I88. {VOLUMETXLIC-No. d Rdit.. and Proprietor. PieToCns I I> /1 '6 ~{. A 4$,~, 1M ~ ~ t~ 'K -.k AI L\\Y~\. r r-,~ I IU HOW SHE% CURED HIM(. A YOUNG wiPa ASTONISHES HERt ERRATIC HUSBAND BY IEMULATING6 HIS EXAMPLE, AWV CAUSKS HIM TO PROMPTLY ABAI(DM1 -MN VAOADO5RV HABITS. OP -HIS BACHELOR DAYS. 1[22 ] SINS OF NEW YORK in ticklish positions even to-day, yet is it not worthy of note how casually mention is made of flappers of that period smoking cigars? And we criticize our modern damsels for puffing the pernicious cigarette! By the end of its second year of existence the Police Gazette, which had been launched with an edition of 4,200 copies, laid claim to having more than one hundred thousand readers, and had grown from four to eight pages, tabloid size, and four columns to the page. As an advertising medium it was doing very well, ten to twelve of its thirty-two columns being given over to such paid notice. Let us have a glance at the advertisements. Burgess, Stringer & Co., booksellers and publishers of Broadway, corner Ann Street, call attention to the very latest of Alexander Dumas, "The Count of Monte Cristo"; to J. Fenimore Cooper's brand-new novel, "The Chainbearer"; to the romances of Eugene Sue, which includes the now-forgotten "Matilda," "a firstrate domestic tale albeit by a Frenchman." Medical advertisements were numerous. Drs. Ivans & Hawes bring to notice "a great triumph" in "Vegetable Extract" for epileptic fits, which the proprietors of the compound "have no delicacy in saying can be cured." H. Johnston, chemist, in making known his "Italian Hair Dye," advises that "it is perhaps a commendable deception to give a beautiful color to one's curls and locks if nature has not done so. It is used by hundreds of our fashionables with approbation." The same advertiser catered to the patent-leather sheiks of the Forties with his pure and highly scented "Bear's Oil," an unequaled preparation for the hair or whiskers. Dr. Townsend's "Compound Extract of Sarsaparilla" was good for a column in not a few issues and offered testimonials which told of marvclous cures in the way of dyspepsia, scrofula, cancers and much else. The certificate of his cure from one John McGown, who, "after using a bottle or two," had his cheek cleared of a tumor, has his letter backed up by his good pastor, who writes: "I am acquainted with Mr. McGown, and know that for several years he had a very bad face...." Another full column extolled Dr. Brandreth's Pills, which had made a certain D. Stors feels just half his fifty years after a deplorable visitation of ills, and he was so appreciative that he prayed that God would bless Dr. Brandreth, the maker of Brandreth's Pills. McAlister's "All-Healing Ointment," which checked "insensible perspiraton," [23] [t' m 0 0 0 M CD '* khl '2 0 'I K 9 p im C E K K 0 q p SINS OF NEW YORK is acknowledged to have power to "cure more diseases than any other five remedies before the world." Very few theatrical advertisements were to be noted, though the Bowery Amphitheatre desired it known that "Dale and McFarland throw 6o somersaults each night, besides all else to be seen in this establishment." "'STOP THE VILLAIN,") was the heading over a personal advertisement, which went on to tell how: "William G. Moody, formerly of Boston and New York, but recently of Jersey City, opposite New York, has run away leaving a wife and two helpless children to the tender mercies of an unpitying world and who has taken with him a valuable piano belonging to the little son of a friend who has ever been kind to him." Details as to the appearance and characteristics of the unfeeling scoundrel are set forth. "He has large whiskers extending under his chin, is a great talker, very conceited and has an awkward imitation of the French shrug of the shoulders when in conversation. He will probably pass himself off as a professor of music. His voice is very harsh and cracked in singing....II "STOP THIEF-$2o. REWARD." This call and offer comes from the Protestant Episcopal Church in Mount Holly, New Jersey, from which edifice sixteen yards of carpet had been stolen. It was in the second year of publication that the United States went to war with Mexico, and it may be significant of the weight that was already carried by the National Police Gazette that, "by Command of Major General Scott," the following official order came from "Head Quarters of the Army in Washington," and dated October 24, 1846;It being supposed that advertising deserters in the "National Police Gazette" may have a tendency to check desertion by increasing the chances of apprehension of the offender, a large subscription has been authorized with a view to its general distribution among the troops. Accordingly, every company, military post and recruiting station will be supplied with a copy. 128 NATIONAL POLICE GAZETTg. - [OFFICIAL.] A LIST AND ~ DESCRIPTION OF DESERTERS FROM T lEUNIE]) STATES ARMY, ]PUDLIftEfD EXCLUSIVELY I 1012118 PAPER bY, ORDEOfTHE 0 201 DJ12ANT GO jLWUAL 01 TU V. 9. SAZT. am2 Mt4bso6404 berorw "3Maclod Fossltr oft Humpbo3.U TeFloyd 4" 23%toward MarUn *eeto ew J Ranch Jam* aii Rbb 670 Wolloc 'Ickore g7l AlforoiElbe* 7i1 Mborba.el o1 ell 2000* Ilayca C74 244. Hlunter 676 Patric %cra 4M Jnboffo..oaauh Vog Tore, oDA U100 Wila TOU0Wils1'don Jrorn91e r4.0 (,Gourge 'A'Roar.. ~ 41,06 bo1V ca "3n 40j~o 9rpby geg if44Sparks g#7 jo64 Stark 6400 IC-N 9.0 0.f4` @9 )vi.d Bricker 4OooTI Wmas Ibnbtree so aboat Sloorv 06. %ht FrenA 697 Joseph De1044 Wj Robert Deford an W~ei Cm4.4ds"0 701 WinCh~A 704 Joep 7yl0*0 ( O ftrooad 703 Wrl,, 704 hrt.. O'Brien 7ca Wm Thorp 7oo 1.0.07 Hutrhlim 767 MlaroaaOWIU 70@ MiokacI Donahoe 700 H F orhatrmorkorn 710 i..... 044470n 711 Andrew 4)0124 712 Tboew WA4ilson 713 W&Aaiof4oo4 trkiaa 714i Jam*@O 'Br~es 714i Allis" Fla=k -I -[-I -I m"I rifl~m A Recruit ttCI ot.4Ut. Reen ddm R&C't tlIAL 2d art. R~ocIt 4th64.1 K K K 1 iot. A 4th infantry dart. IL 746.. C Mo Lid. 0i De~'t 1ft6hlot' 'A I - I 30 u 21 21 97 23 li 21 19 94 33 72 so 91 23 11 III, 19 29 it 21 24 77 21 2@, 34 21 23 23 21 23 29 21 29 23 u 23 13 26 34 33 26 23 19 23 -lu bha. light g1m7 brown.4.1 Idark blue brown lark block blark black hotel d4 brown blue4i ht~f Iar dark 4444 U4gb blue brown haie4 brown b4ue sandy blue brow, 44444 brown 444e brown 44, block M.n 01 light haiel brown my brown 6az.l black hazel broo 4U. blue auburn 11ray "aody hazel4blac k F7. I brow b~ll 0rowtra hotel ',oa c047 red black dark black black blue brown black brown,%T dark iiazel black bazel browiL grey brow, Mae. brow. blue brown blue brow, blue browna blue light m ubr 04m "EIGHT "Itaag poor, OCCUPATION. DA0004444PLACI0 0r eeuslmIa"r."Is Am.91"cs of naaaa"Fow.e I - I i I G-. &MAMM A -1 Wir hir lark lair fair dark laor dark lair auddy fair fair (air deark ruddy fair (air. d ark focrid florid fair lack roddy look fair lark lark (air sorid - I -. I I, 71. 747 T"1 719 7w4 712 72A 7.14 727 729 '730 734 722 733 734 73& Joka Weggonor lace. ichneon %V %Lam nY Oalg mero. Ntctloo..d Hear7 6 BLUe James. Froel John Dy 04. JIwInck Mnj&by.'&Mao A- lRamer Lbharlce Prislt... Josephbbark Milcbael "ICio&b Edward Archer 24 bloe 24 b4,. 25 bluo 29 blu. 26 bluo ýJ4 blue 24 c-ar 26 11]ue '02 7 21 brown broowa browna brow a -lark -lark b.rown black b02wn 2brown 730 Job. 1641. ampri4* 14 737 NathawnoRMael hll Re4U It r 7l 41 t,) 738 Siaeon uaBddock ' 321 02 72M WMo C.e..4 Arcks. Vowl. A 24 740 Woo 442 r* e24 741 Robert Oadam 23 '7442 JaoCSRrelriy 4. 22 743 1444444 94.4t 19 744 towieIPataes J742 JobnaWilboma s21 7461. 90 Dillard ' 2 22 '747 Win6t If Telford 14I 7,4b Jesse Trolor 11,w~ T J Linuaq, i. Rvao Elba 4 5.-6ohnLasellU 00l0Mtl 19 haoel,o74 Wmin- 11 aackeabuilk 14 kacol 7544 Adolph Lera 0 2loy 736 Rufus Caao24 MuaY 757 E~dwarrd; -Talc r 212 oli 760 Jaooe. 140.442 " 22 blue 709 WM 0M..t ' 24rrMY 760 000orge'6 mod rilbeono200FMeolt 762 Ww H Adrao,3 try 74Y6 Wm If Adrolo 006infantry 27 luio 1 704 )am-,reQuin.0 Ord drp't 23 bla. (76, Sandy Kieeoe:. 7t- ionfantry 24 blae. 7s Albert A. Cwaok Relcruit 4 blueo 77r ThkomasOawaer Recruit 'J, biue '769 W'n ItfKorngs.oIt I taLrt.22 ta 794 lifwk..l Dillon 0r.1.dept 200&l~ei 770 John D4)100 29 774 Dow,, F G L oat 772 J0.is C~o~ncuz *11 SJ069ph balaSO, Serg'7th lo, 20 black 174 Simon tdelarty Recruit 33 rn 77b Charles R4obedo" ow ray22 4 I 776 Patrick Geirn Recruit *1 blue '777 Andre Davis Recruit:12 blue 110 Thomas ViWdaort Recruit 00 blue 4oriii Light (air lai r ruddy salob fair Lair ruddy lcgbt lark lark lark fair floari ruddy Loght florid dark fair rauddy lair dark lair [auk 9 Alabama 04 *j lompakire Isle of Wt a& KilkoonsIreland 17 Corarol o.,Okio 04 Now York 140 Colambus, Okio Frndariak Va. J.eonky. 01 Montgonery. Ky 64 If aBtler. P&. a 6 Limestone Co, Ala. 111 HuItdson14. 7y.2 9 Tyrone, Iroland a TyroaneIreland 71 44 iferoload~ u 11 treaonbd, rla 6 HLcisro, IMeloan 61I Holto. blanig 04 FrnailaCo.,Pa, 48 Dunnao, Scotland a0 Oer.4aa b67j Lana cgurg. WY. 6 40 bliddilr b rgl. N 2'. 61 Havrhoill. bla.... 3 Deer Island, ke 0k OBlackltRcrk, NT 6 6 Dorofft Orromooy 309k Newiklao, rrutla 6 40 Harrion ou9., 064o 6 a R-c kjc214hooowoN. C. 6 06 i % J1140"'., Ill 41j Huntingtwonco, Me 7 Washing4ton 00., 01L 6 Clarkcow..0khi ý3 Clark c0.06Ohw 209 Puotnam o.,Va. 6 71 PutamoaoCo. ft. 3 7 Coartrlrod, N2V. a I Chicbrolro. Englaod 3 81 Fermanaghbo,., Irolend 2 0 Konica., O~aglood 5 71 R4 Lo, rnro o-,0N9. Y. o. 11 Strasburg, France 5 41 1-0 Clare. Irelaod 5 9 Athens, N.Y. 0 10W..~.. 6 6 Dublin, I elan 1 1 091 Plywoath. Eri. 6l tarrotlco-,Ohko 3 9 hlonlgamery,Aliabsma 3 9 F'errty c0., Oio 4. t~t 7 lauw.Ooliao 0 4 Iroland 6U1 NewYork a 4 Ioolaod S 41 New.Jersey 3 7 Pranoyloaaoa b 7 Germany, 3 10 Ioreland 5 7 Norwoay 571 roland oS4 -rglood &69 New Jersey b 11 Ireland 6 4k BremnnClrfrwaay 5 8 New bMarket, Ire lad a KiRlkenny.lIreton.] * 7 Hloifax, Nora Swotia,% 01 New York 53 0 c 41oll*blaneo S 4) Now Yock 6.7 Indi200 4 IS Bergrn, Now JerMV~ 644 Davis, France 6 Iv oro.,. N. V. 5 4' Wolkoelorore. Jo 3 0 Liverpool,Eogloand 3 4 Gow lay, Ireland b a Be rkotCo., Ps. 191 Carro~llto. 4Ky. 3 2 loblbrbag. hIts. 3 9 5 4 Kings, Ioelaod 527 Omenoo0, NY 34 Loath coo.Ireland 5 4 Baltimore, bld. 6 9 Limeri-ck, Irelaod:67 Kiongs,Ireland 16 L~imerickIreloand 2 9 Irelond 6 4 St. Louis, Iol. 50 Allegheny co..Pa. 3 91 Ciare, Ireland 6 6 Dabita. Irelaod, I ý bricoblyer taboret sailor tabourer tabourer firmer homer shoemaker carpeater farmeor CeWopnter Carpenter tabouorer stonecutter laborer soldier brrickonmaker tailor apothecary baker famr. coordwaicer laborer farto. tabourer bilker farmer aitmaker labreroj laborer laborer willer farerao blacksmith tabonurer tabourer laborer laborer painter sooieor blackroolth, boot-maker carpenter soldier labo rer ohair-eoaker laboremrat labortr tailort cablairlmaker labor-or. shoemaoker Labo re biacksnith tabouror boat-maker laboouror carpenter carpenter taboucre tabourer'macmoanag iaboarer muolczan baker machinist tlabourer shoe~maker laborer laborer labaore labortr laborgg fatowo laboror blackjarilmf Oot. 20, IM:6Psa h,5, Oct. 90,04C044 91 N4ov. 17, 4l44, Albany,.01.20. Nov. d,14646. Camsborlwad, bd. Nov., 7,4646, CionlarWe, Ohio Jane 0, 464, Pjewpofl, Ky. April 14.,l1de0,a tian April 17, 16".,Madison Julj I 186~t, Mem him Oc.04018".44,Now"',rh O1d~. 16"4, Now York Oct.3. 18". 1Now York 74cv. 6, 4040711.Paitsbtne, N.YT. Nov, 12,'41944, Middlielcww. Ohke OwE. 20, 104),New OrWean Now. 26,1-48,4 Dow. 942,10 ao Nov. 10.4640, Zaeein,lla, hio Ncv. 2, 1040, New York Fip.pIt. 30104, Newport, 1.20. Ndot. P. 4044,Albany, 01.Y2. Oct. 10, 14,40, Ulltick N. Y. Oct. 0.41 4484, Lowe 11, MbLaa N~ov. 20, 14"4, Boston Nor. 26,.1 U6. byrocaee Nwv.. 1, 1",0. Now York Nov.I, 1", 44,Hamiltcn, Ohio Sept 1. 19,464, Newport, Ky. Oct. 42.I, 44L touisville.,Ky. July 27. 14040,Brownstowe, tad. Oct.10 18". 44,Lronsvoile, Ind. 004. 21. JU4G, eOpt.' 0.144000. ~ 0 Aag. 21. 1040, Lafayette, In& SwL 30.4040, Ev.ansville, iml. July 24,194640 Loganepolt, In& Juli 1, 0844040, o Aag. 0,1640., soe o July 24,16404, of Aag. 27,1044. " of Aug. 4,1946, Michigan City Oct. 11, 1840,11ewpbie, Teon. Nor, 14,l11".,Plitlaba re, P16 No%. 1@, 1 "40, WhitehallP. 20. 'low 2.l0, 464.Wboloball, N.Y. Nov. 17, i049t, Zanoaroile, Okiw 14.10 17 I040New wrtk~eeN2 Mey 1, 1934, New Lonadon N~ov. 20.4040, OBoston, Maue. Dec. 1.1"6. Bc~oson.Me"-. Nov. U,4040."a. ( blicctbe, Ohio, Dec. 20, 124, Ncw Orloan Sept. 2, 104, Sudinoky, Ohio Jaly 20. 404, EroerWe.lad. Oct. 2, 1%.40, Miiiwaakie Sept. 24, 4044, Whiteboll Ncr.,.49.IS.Now York Oct..20.140.6,Pbiladelphia Aag. 23.4194, Newark Now. 0 044," 'Pbiiadrtlpkla Ncv. 4. 194, New Yark Nov. 9, 1940, Ptodadlelpthic Nor. 11. 1046, NewYork Ncr. 4, 4040, Now York N4ov. 42, 4940, Albany 74004 12, 4044, Albany Sept. 20,1464, New York Drc. -4, 140404BDrookliyn Oct- 17,1t046. bMempkis, Te O)c L27.1940, 4 OctI. 4b,4040, da Oct. 13. I404, ' 0 Oct. 0,1804, De. 1.I, 44,Bostton Dec. J, 044, Providenco iwo.e 10, 160.4'Clkalkoil, Ark, Jaue 10,1640, of June 0.146, 404, 1 Jun.e40,.1040,..of Jane 0,30.4IO, bMalberry. Arb. Juno 10 IRac.Clarksville, A-rk. Juno.I44, I404,DovorPopeco.Azk Jaae 15, 40a", o Juno ),1S46. 1040, 1& June 10,10,140,6 04. Jwo.s10, 4940. of *.44 Nor. 11, 4046. Pittsburgh Dcc. 26,1%4, New York OrE. 21.1040. Nov. 1),1t046. Oct. 1, 1044, Nov. 12.194044, 0 Drc. 2,194044 Nor. 2,1404, -Oct. 12.4444.ý Loulnielle, Ky. Oct. 12.,19"4, of Nov. 24, 4040,Delon Rouge De1. 18, Frankfroolrd art., pg. Drc. 14. 4040, Afta!, N. y. Dec. 6,1946, New Icrk City Drc. So,1040. New York Coty Oct.- S, 18". Baltimwre, bid. Oct. 0. 1546, Waterrolat arsloal Sept. 9,.4540,.6 Nov. 24, I4640 do~ Sept. 1, 149, of Je&& I10,4044. New Orloan., La. De I t0.146 PNttsabo7h Dec. 14, 4044, Nrw York Dec. It. 1 6,DwBoson -Nov. 20, Is&#, Bostoa Oct. 00" 44, IMS Oct. 00,104". a Nor. III Is", Albany N.Y. Nov. 4K t-4--gI' d ota~tli i Nov. 9.404", Ciefule,4oOt Sept 2. a, 044,Now. ua,&a4 Sept. 34, 4646, 1 Sept. K2to,66. 0 a Sept.04. 4044,. Sept. 24,4IN* Seop1.20,: l46,Csstrortli, n Nov. 00,414&A Fort Cabmn" Nor. 00,1404 Nov.020, 4046. Nov. 111, 4646,on rouseete b1 Nov. 44, IS", on routs teo4) Nov. 12. 16". Now Oloaaa Oct. 49, 4044, Monterey9 Oct. 40,4040. o Nov. 14, 104, Zaanesvile. 04 Nov. 24. 4044, Port Coirowbu Nov. i17,i4940,Newport Wke. Nov. 22,.444, Fort Columbao Nov. 27,16404, Nor. 29,4040, 0f Nov. 27, 4544, Beeten Nor. 29, 1404, Syecmsea,N.I Nov.- 20,4 444.Now York Nov. 24,1646-0, IHamitonlOs 0 Ndoy. 4. 140. JeffereaSa Now. 12.-4040, 40 0 NOV. 6,.1IWO, of Nor. 7,14040, of Nov. 7. 1 U6, 0o Nov. 3.,404M. eof Nov. 42,.1046., oa Nov.I. 21646-0, No- 4. S,400 00 4 NcrP 4,.410,". Nov. 10,16404. n Nov. 10,1046,4,04 Nov. 10, 464.4,40 4 Noy. 14, 4044 0@ 1c. 4, 4044, *,Nr, 23,.1044,Pittsbnrgh, r, Noy. 50, 19". Wbthill,9 Dec. 2, 4640, Witrliail, N' Nor. 2-2,tis", Zenon dla, 01h Dec. 3. 10444 Syrc acus,94.7I Nei. 26, 1@48, Fort C * [uab Drc. 2, 1844, Fort Columwl.c Dec. 4,10946, Oo4on, SIq0L g cc. 4. ~, ma, 00,000Mass or. 22,34, 18. Cbolccboth.ot Nor. le.1640, 041044 NacgrI Nor. 1, 1044. Sept. 21,1044, bit. Vernon, ( wkdeon. 0heb.morel Newport bartacki. Ky Nor. 11. 4040, New-port blu~ Drc. 1.1546. Newport b'kj Drc. 1,1IS". Fort C olamnba Dec. 1,46% 0 Dec. 1.100 Dec. 24.00 D..c. I04 Dec..4 Ue 4 Dec. 44. ' Dec. 4,.4644 Dec. 4C4184" 0 Dec. 6, 3044, Drc. 64,14644,Brooklyn Novto. Is".40,Jeollaomm bu Now. 10,1464, - 6 Oct. 07, 184110, Memphi., Tea Oct. ro,4ISO, - Oct. 24,41040, " Dee. 9,1464, Boston Dec. 3,1640, Provodeace Oct. 24, INS, Ft.Gibson, C.I Owl. 24,4044, Ft. Gibsoa, C., Oct. -24,.4040, Oct. 24,18404, ' Oct. 24, 1044, Oct.- 24,1044, ' d Oct. 24,4164, Oct. 24,4944,. Oct. 24.,014.U, Oct. 21,18404, 0 4 Oct., 24,164040 Ncv. 6. 104,". Ncr. 0,490,%6. Nor. 00, 1940,'Pittaborgh DeC. 40, 146.4,PriztclpsDrpo Columbus Dec. 12,18404, of Dec. 42,104, 4' Dec. 12,13046, 144 Dec. 3Is.40 a,. - Dec. 12,1646,, 4 Detc. 418,1846, OrE- 31,194,, ftouigrrii, Ky Nor. 12, 1%6, Jeffertoabarr N v. 20. 1646. Baton ouge S 610,460, Prnokforr are Dec. 42, I4644,Albany, N.YI Dec. 10,40404, Now York Cil Dee.. 104 1044, Now York Cit Nor, 14,404S* PFL McHenry, Dec.. 42,18404, Warlovetanr Dec. 12,.4044,.4 Dec. 18134, I0i Def. 1905 64.6p~~ed Dee, 411. S, Ptt~burgh Deo. 18, 4I4M, Now York Dec. 17. 1044,Bostomnga Dec. 17, 9.1040.4ha 6 to rwnte to 7640 bteawy. bi. Diauhirgol byw.%a6b4 at. T.~ biG.K.Lieut. Clowikatil '.tndMM a Ltialetod for 7th tnfu44ry. Enolosted far gonemal 001w16a Lahasted for lot Ad""iu. 2'. Wnks Apprehendod Nov.Rts fOwcklsd face, and mark of a V0 scar over left tempt.. V. VeZ steady built,. aieighr 44.0 d lod hbeena a ellm lieft in sMldo ieeaathee, Daberted wh~k undwg ad" fo 0;r roclpa ldsunl. La. ties given himseolf nuptoCeL.,, u n1,and joinedWbloC., Deserted from Baton tR gs La0, Jan t, i44 s45.Jei from desertion at BIsa Ohio Rtouge b'h AL,, Septw,4#.. 0Se44ond esertilLn.Seppogod 50goneto CLaawsd. ii Enlieted for vsjealatobay. Enlistedfogeoal sorrte Ealhtedfor "thinfantry. Ealisted for 2d dougom.-w Enlisted for iot Eniisted fer lot PEnioted (or 0th kabatry. Eaboted (or 4th mnfantry. Enlisted 1cr 446 infantr. LgLa14 2d for 716 4infantry. Enlisecd for 7th6inanatry. Enaobotd for 2d dsugonnw Boarded at No. me trtghtetsat., Boston-sf aLom and sn. pcoesessig apee0o N. Enrolled by CWp. ry.* 194 16 " C apiWeet. D%,dB't dt la m. I# Enlisted for Ist dragona.. Enlisted fornd drngwoum. a 4 o th In46try. Wks abot LouaSV e.waand Not yet attached te aScampy ePa. Elaisetd 4w an, ordusom ow.. borer. ity ty 144 aas- Ho isan EngliskmoUrnois KACnglanot.a.ee 8i. Ziv e. of a oullan aspect, IoA5 ocoionaal ddewag ogek. En roate to Ne w Teek-ti desertio.a SaPpoeed to be 3d desertlo. -.i brow n Light $aanily brow. d brown browrA black brow, dark dark b lar k dark dark black brow, It brown brown light Ifair $30 3OJWAZLJ. Cr A rewordof TmmvT PooAII waswll ho pamd to anY MM owho shall apprekud sod dolloor a dawrnea to an oseo of tm any at any Mawlwtar otor B1@ci jlal 0me r.,c1 SINS OF NEW YORK THE PIRATE OP THE PARKS. 30V A M~W TOS "rILLS TUkPI TOM X 33 A WORTHLWIIS HUSAINDI IAK A M TOLMD 8 21fB * -AIDWA'r,OUNDU, On 1AOA 0 from William T. Porter in 1856; on this weekly, the first all-around sporting journal, Horace Greeley had once been a typesetter. In 1876 Richard K. Fox took over the National Police Gazette and made a complete change in its appearance and purposes. Under his proprietorship this weekly became a powerful sports and theatrical organ; the forerunner of the [27] SINS OF NEW YORK present-day tabloid as a picture paper and the dispenser of sensational news; and the means of bringing its head wealth, prominence, and a degree of power. Of the pink decades of the Police Gazette, with which many of us are more or less familiar, these will be dealt with further along in this history. "It sank so low," stated a Fox editorial in reviewing the past history of the publication just taken over, "that it appealed for support to the very class that provided it with subjects for its pages and had regular columns devoted to the lawless classes and printed in their slang, the argot of the New York gutters. Even this did not stem the tide of disaster. The circulation kept dropping until Mr. Matsell, who had come into sole ownership in 1873, disposed of his unremunerative property to two engravers, father and son, who had been providing the pictures for the paper. But it failed to restore itself to its old popularity and so passed into the hands of Richard Kyle Fox." Now it is patent from a present-day digest of doings in the criminal world, that the primal scheme of the National Police Gazette, and as set forth in its prospectus, has not w,)rked out in accordance with its ambitious plan. For the years have proven that crime and the criminal are still with us in spite of the efforts of the original National Police Gazette. And the failure cannot be charged to any reluctance on the part,f the publishers to acquaint the public with the deplorable propensities and peccadillos of certain of the citizenry. But no matter how primitive an example of journalism the original National Police Gazette may be now accepted, its criminal chronicles and rude illustrations struck the public fancy for quite a period, even though it was printed on rather coarse paper and mainly in agate type. There was one other feature that was special to the National Police Gazette pages previous to the Fifties-a rhymed annual address, which poetic effusion gave a partial review of matters that had commanded the attention of the publication during the year, and a sample of which has already been presented. In chapters to come this history will be devoted to some of the outstanding cases. Some reference to these will be found in the address, of which a few of its numerous stanzas are appended: Then let us not scoff, Too severe at poor Gough, Though constrained to exclaim-"What a sad falling of!" [ 28 ] SINS OF NEW YORK From "tinct. of Tolou" and pure syrup and soda, To riot and rum in a house of bad odour! From orthodox slumbers and dreams apostolic, To the rank ups and downs of an amorous frolic. "What a sad falling off! What a sad falling off!" Then mercy, we pray, for the fall of poor Gough I The next strangest case that the old year has seen, Is the vexed prosecution of Polly Bodine: Tried twice-once convicted-the inhuman fury Gave the scaffold the slip through the loops of a jury. Oh, Polly Bodine! Oh, Polly Bodine! Such a case on our records has never been seen! Such a chapter of horror in which scarce a (doubt Mocks the efforts of justice in tracing it out, But tho' vengeance is baffled, not hushed is the scream Of unappeased ghosts upon Polly Bodine! Bob Sutton, Bob Sutton, bold burglar, come out, And unravel the train-work which bringeth about The grasp of the law in its own proper timeThe doom of the felon-the stamp of his crimeYou may wander at large, but naught uwill disperse The dark shades of your deeds-their brand and their curse, Then shrink back, old burglar, shrink back to your den! And pray for old Time's everlasting "amen!" But why further relate With name and by date, The long list of felons disgracing the State, From Honeyman down to old Parkinson, allSome infamous thieves have been pinned to the wall, And murderers blackened in crime have been tried And condemned by the laws of the land they defied; For Justice, though slow, brings at last the poor wretch Who poisons or stabs, to the string of Jack Ketch. [29] THE PUBLICAN, THE PEWTERER, AND THE PUGILIST An Astounding Case of Mistaken Identity IN ITS initial feature the original National Police Gazette, in No. i of its series, under the title of "Lives of the Felons," carried the reader back eighteen years. In a serial that ran through several installments, this gave anew and elaborately the details of a criminal episode so extraordinary and unusual as to have all the city of New York lost in wonder for many weeks of the years 1827 and 1828. Conceive, if you can, a respected and prosperous hotel proprietor who had for his double a member of a daring band of forgers and thieves. Of a resemblance so strong that the tellers of two of the city's prominent banks, which had been victimized, were positive in their identification of the innocent Publican as being the one who had passed on them false checks for the amounts of more than $io,ooo. Add to the picture how the brand of guilt was further fastened on this innocent man when an unmitigated crook backed up the identification of the bank tellers by false implication in turning state's evidence. And then the clearing of the blameless and broken unfortunate through the persistence and skill of a sagacious officer of the law, whose efforts might have gone'for naught but for a trivial accident at the eleventh hour. This is not the imaginings of a novelist or a playwright, but a matter of printed word in the daily papers and of the police records of more than a century ago. As did the Gazette, to make for chronological conception of this amazing case, we shall first deal with the Pugilist, Bob Sutton. He first saw light some ten years after the birth of the United States, and in his early manhood a muscular frame together with, it must be conceded, unflinching physical courage, brought him considerable prize ring renown. As a member of the "fancy," Bob the Wheeler (so nicknamed from his first trade) has his fistic deeds duly recorded in no less an authority on pugilism than Boxiana. Somewhere around his thirtieth birthday, he had fallen so deeply into criminal ways that London became too hot to hold him and he sailed to this country in 1820 and a short time after opened an English beershop at 24 Rosevelt (rose [30] I MCA ) 0:4 A 4Auv / 13']1 SINS OF NEW YORK field) Street. Trees still extended along the way down to the waterfront where sonie years before had been the homes of the early burghers, and which had now given way to the lowest of sailors' dives. The building, a small two-story frame structure painted in blue, became in quick order the resort of English thieves and burglars and of bellicose youth, drawn by their admiration of the proprietor's reputation for fistic prowess. Though business was profitable from the first, Sutton could not refrain from a penchant for pocket picking and other roguery which brought him in occasional contact with the police. The Pcwtercr, James Holdgate, came to this country a few years after Sutton, and was also a Briton. It was many months after his arrival in New York before he was able to take up his regular line of employment, which was the making of fancy leaden toys. Before this he was engaged with the Gas Company, being one of the first servants of this new illuminating utility after the president of the company had equipped his own home at 7 Cherry Street, in 1825, with pipes and burners and had demonstrated for a gaping throng that the danger of fire or explosion was merely imaginary. Holdgate's occupation was the repairing of fixtures and meters in the various places of business. While thus engaged he was corrupted by Sutton to the notion of how fine an opportunity his calling presented for getting the impressions of locks so as to enable access to stores and warehouses worth marking for robbery. Several such jobs were put over successfully. Nor was Holdgate weaned from the Sutton influence even after a citizen named Jackson, deceived in the character of the man, furnished backing and established him in a shop at 3 Murray Street for the manufacture of pewter objects, and which venture proved a successful one. As a matter of fact, the shady connection of Sutton and Holdgate took on a blacker hue with the appearance on the scene of James Stevens, also a Briton. This new member, "a man of fine talents, elegant appearance, liberal education and accomplished manners," was even said to be an illegitimate son of King George III, though on what authority does not seem to be known. This gentlemanly crook, after being forced to decamp from the West Indies, came to know John Reed, a very clever forger, who had already served several prison sentences. When a bold scheme of forgery had been concocted between Sutton, Holdgate and Stevens, one that required the services of an artist in his line, Stevens hunted up Reed and brought him to the Darby & Joan. [32] SINS OF NEW YORK SAVED BY HIS SWEETHEART ft BIRTHDAY PRlUHT WHICAH PROTBCTSU a LONG 1SLAND LOVERR' PUiML AND OtSCOMPITGO DaSPRIATS OOTPAD As the first move of this daring plan, which was inspired by a number of successful check manipulations for small amounts, an entrance was effected in the prominent banking house of Howland & Aspinwall, in Front Street. Keys for the main door had been fashioned by the Pewterer after impressions procured by himself. As a result of this forced entry the invaders were able to rummage through [33] SINS OF NEW YORK the premises from midnight until daybreak, and the most prized portion of the spoils was a number of canceled checks. Several of these checks had been merely canceled by writing in ink instead of being mangled by cutting. Of these particular checks, one was on the Union Bank for $7,760, and another was on the Merchants Bank for the sum of $3,500. These checks were renovated by the skillful Reed, who with acids removed the date and cancellation marks and then through his clever penmanship substituted the date of October 15 (on which day it was decided to make presentation of same on the banks) in perfect imitation of the handwriting on the checks. On the morning of October 15, Holdgate, while sweating over the fires in his Pewterer's shop, and surrounded by his apprentices, suddenly announced that he was going out for a few moments to get a drop of ale. It was proven afterwards, on investigation, that Holdgate was absent from his place of business only a very short time. Yet, inside of much less than an hour, he had gone to the Darby & Joan and replaced his apron and working coat and trousers with his best apparel. After which he visited both the Union and the Merchants Banks, and of such respectability was his appearance and deportment and so perfect the work on the checks, that the tellers surrendered the cash amount called for on the face of each check with practically no questioning. Then Holdgate returned to the Darby & Joan, doffed his fine raiment, and was soon back at work in his shop industriously engaged. This audacious fraud was discovered on the very next day, and soon the city press was alive with news and conjecture concerning the imposition on the banks, and the entire town was talking of little else, while the search and inquiry was going on in all directions to get trace of the man in the dark olive-colored coat who had cashed the false checks and then disappeared so mysteriously. Among those who shared the prevailing wonderment over the matter was Timothy B. Redmond, keeper of the U. S. Hotel, a large and flourishing establishment on Pearl Street. Hardly a week later Timothy B. Redmond put on his olive-green dress coat and started out on some business that carried him into Wall Street. As he passed the Union Bank, Daniel Ebbetts, the paying teller who had cashed the check for Holdgate, chanced to be coming down the steps of the institution. The instant his eyes fell on Redmond he was convinced that good fortune had revealed to him the mysterious swindler. He followed Redmond until the latter returned to the U. S. [34] SINS OF NEW YORK Hotel, where Ebbetts after a little investigation was surprised to learn that the man that he had been tracking was none other than the proprietor of this prosperous hotel and saloon. Still convinced that he could not be mistaken in his identification he got in touch as quickly as he could with Edward A. Nicoll, paying teller of the Merchants Bank. The two visited the U. S. Hotel and then went into the barroom of the place, where they were waited on by Redmond. The instant Nicoll saw Redmond, he, like Ebbetts, was struck with the conviction that the guilty man had been found. The following day Redmond was placed under arrest. Almost at the same time a trunk containing much valuable property was stolen from the steamboat North America during her passage from Albany to New York. David Ware was the one guilty of the robbery, and as he appeared in sudden affluence and he had a police record he was arrested, but it was on the suspicion that he might have had something to do with the swindling of the banks, the act for which Redmond had been apprehended. The unprincipled Ware, after turning things over in his mind, conceived the plan of confessing to guilt in the matter for which he had been merely arrested on suspicion. His calculation being, that his admission would turn attention away from the misdeeds of which he was actually guilty. He thereupon sent for John Phoenix, the District Attorney of the city of New York,, and offered to turn state's evidence and to denounce as his accomplice, Timothy B. Redmond. And when Redmond was brought before him, the unabashed Ware lost no time in identifying the overwhelmed hotel owner, though he had never seen him before. After a hurried examination Redmond was returned to his cell and with little likelihood that he would ever again enjoy freedom. Thus comments the Gazette: On the day after this gigantic wrong, the journals of the city were loud in their satisfaction at the result of the examination. They recognized the hand of Providence in the wonderful development of the prisoner s guilt and offered their heartfelt thanks to that overruling power which confounds the machinations of the wicked, and which untiringly tracks the offender until it visits upon his head the inevitable punishment tres0f is gultybosm;1prens2d altou Is fate peceealtohei NEW-YORK, SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 1846. JACOB HAYS, HIGH CONSTABLE OF NEW YORK. is with the most unfeigned pleasure that we-present our readers with the above portrait of our venerable and ienowned. High Constable. We particularly commend the character of the original to the attention of alf the police officers ot the United States, as a distinguished aDd honorable example of the benefits which can be conferred upox Foci.ety by a' energetic and inflexibfy honest maar. [36] SINS OF NEW YORK Poor Redmond! The hurricane had fairly swept him down. The fabric of his prosperous condition had vanished as a breath; his house was abandoned and deserted, and in addition to the destruction of his character, he saw himself on the road to helpless beggary, maybe lifelong imprisonment. Abandoned by all, other than the idle visitors, whlo gapcd at him through his cage in insulting curiosity, or those unpitying familiars who tortured his innocence for a confession, nothing was left in the prospective but infamy and a felon's doom. Enter the Policeman, Jacob Hays, who really deserves a place in the title of this account. "Old Hays," as he was better known, was High Constable of New York, the master sleuth of his day, and from all accounts a foe to be feared by the lawbreakers and a friend to be respected by the honest citizen. He was actually the first American detective of note though in his time he was known as a "tshadow"; detectives as a distinct corps were not created in New York until 1857. Old Hays was really an able man in his field; it was this same Old Hays who originated an ingeniously effective method for breaking up unruly gathcrings. In that period almost every citizen, no matter his station, wore a "itopper,"1 or high silk hat. Old Hays would go to work in the midst of the boisterous element and by a deft movement of his wrist with an extremely short "billy," he would knock off "4(toppers" right and left. Then, when those relieved of their headgear would bend over to recover same, he would administer swift kicks in the pants with a dexterity that might have been the envy of our own Charlie Chaplin. Old Hays believed he could distinguish the criminal physiognomy from that of the honest man, no matter how much appearances might be against the latter. From the first he felt that Redmond was not a man of criminal tendencies, either by inclination or accident and he strove energetically to prove his intuitions. The bloodhound in this shadow was keen to see the one actually guilty brought to justice. Though further examinations and developments brought to light apparent discrepancies in the Ware confession, public opinion remained strongly against Redmond, and when Old Hays requested of the District Attorney a delay :7,cr IqI 1400 16.44 PIP IF Alll 138 ] SINS OF NEW YORK On the second day of the Redmond trial, moved by the tremendous excitement of the proceedings, Holdgatc himself entered the courtroom to see the sport. It was at the opening of the court and Redmond had not as yet arrived. All eyes were at once turned upon the Pewterer, and deceived by the remarkable resemblance, the spectators wondered why the complainant took his seat outside the bar among the spectators. Redmond's appearance a few minutes afterwards dispelled the illusion, though it did not allay the amazement, and the bewildered beholders paid but little attention to the proceedings until the Pewterer, abashed by the general gaze, got up and left the place. The observing eye of Old Hays also took note of the startling resemblance of the Pewterer and the prisoner, with the result that he made some investigations which merely baffled and led nowhere. It was such an ordinary thing for Holdgate to drop out of his place during the day for his glass or two of ale, and his absence from his shop on October 15 had not seemingly been prolonged beyond the customary stay of the boss, so there did not seem anything suspicious here for the High Constable to work on. Hays, on account of the expert work in the alterations on the checks, had his suspicions fastened on Reed from the first. Ware, though a stranger to Reed, knew of the latter's reputation as a forger through his underworld connections, and in turning state's evidence the conniving Ware had even dared to implicate Reed. When the latter was placed under arrest on a requisition from the Governor of Massachusetts early in 1828, and he was brought face to face with Ware, the latter failed to identify the man he had accused of being his accomplice. Through his investigations of Reed, Hays got wind of the fact that Reed had been in association with Stevens. So the pursuit for Stevens was on, though for no other good reason than that Hays desired to subject him to some questioning. Hays was led quite a chase, finally losing the scent after he had driven Stevens back to New York, where the prey was searched for in vain. And now it was the 8th of March, the day set for the trial that marked what was apparently the last ray of hope for poor Redmond. And then came one little incident that helped to undo all the perfect planning and the luck of the villains, and that counted even more than the relentless keenness of the High Constable. On the morning of March 8 some boys were playing in a lumber-yard in Wooster Street, next to the corner of Grand, and they chanced to find a small tin [39] SINS OF NEW YORK box tied up in a handkerchief. A policeman saw the mysterious box in possession of the b1oys and brought it down to the station. It was found to contain several blank bills of exchange, some bank notes that had been tampered with, and among them a number of canceled checks that had been gathered on the night of the forced entry into the counting-house of Howland & Aspinwall. Naturally, these interested Old Hays; so much so that he promised the District Attorney in exchange for an additional delay of twenty-four hours that he would produce positive evidence of Redmond's innocence. Old Hays then proceeded to the vicinity where the boys had found the tin box, and after some careful inquiry he learned that a party calling himself by the name of Atkinson had just moved into a house near by. From descriptions that were had of Atkinson there was little doubt in the mind of the sleuth that he had succeeded in running down the much-wanted Stevens. The persevering officer had the house watched all night and at daybreak the following morning he knocked on the door of the Atkinson apartment, and with the cautious opening of the door, Hays pushed his way into the room. Before Stevens could spring to the table on which reposed a pair of revolvers he was seized and manacled. A search of the rooms revealed all the evidence that was needed. Stevens was soon convinced that he had been caught with the goods and that he was in for a long prison term, and when the crushed and suffering Redmond was pointed out to him the appeal to his manhood brought a confession that completely exonerated the Publican. Relates the Gazette: In no time the District Attorney, after Stevens had been put upon the stand, arose and touching the abandonment of the defense, stated his firm conviction of Redmond's perfect innocence. It is difficult to describe the sensation which this singular declaration produced in the crowded courtroom. The proceedings, which had been strikingly dramatic in all their stages, had wound up with a miracle. The spectators, the Court, nay the prosecuting officers, were not only amazed but thunderstruck, and the majority almost mistrusted that they were the victims of enchantment. The most powerful effect was visible upon Redmond. His careworn, fixed and haggard features were agitated for a moment with a convulsive tremor, the tears gushed in fountains from his eyes, and sinking his head between his clasped hands, he uttered a fervent ejaculation of "Thank God! Thank God!" When the confusion and excitement had in some degree subsided, and the repeated admonitions of the crier of the Court had restored a [40] SINS OF NEW YORK K:j2 K' - ML.. -, - 1.--, I. _. _ _. -- - ADIIRERS A Ti E CONDITIONS UPON WHICH THEY BE PKRMrITTED )A UPPER-TESLOA-4 1llaLLTrL-TM WHML4ICAL FIAkAKl AbD FVNCI=S S1 il)u C.; ` IDL'FMD INTO lHR CODA ( "" UF G(TrIAbL-St l. I'A& 2. partial order, the Recorder, with a moistened eye and a voice quavering with emotion, rose to address the jury. In the brief charge which the consuming anxiety of the whole Court rendered necessary, he observed that Redmond stood before them a ruined man, blighted in character and deserted by his friends. That by the arrest of Stevens, new light had been thrown on the affair, which tended to the irrefragable declaration of his innocence, and that it would hardly expose one to the imputation of [41 ] SINS OF NEW YORK superstition to say, "The finger of Almighty God is in this matter!" The jury then retired, but immediately returned, and upon being questioned by the clerk in usual form, replied by the voice of the foreman: "We find David Ware guilty of wilful perjury." On rendition of this verdict the excitement broke out afresh. The whole audience betrayed their conviction in accordance with the various materials of which it was composed. There were streaming eyes, murmurs of applause, and mutterings of execration against the malignant wretch who had been so miraculously up-tripped in his deep designs. Redmond was caught up in the arms of his counsel and his previously hesitating friends, and the frantic joy of some of the most mercurial in the dense assemblage expressed itself in violent expressions of delight. Justice proceeded to make amends and Ware was consigned to the State Prison for five years. Very soon after, Stevens in a further confession told of the full part that Holdgate and Sutton had played in the affair of the false checks, and in a few hours the Pewterer and the Pugilist were in the toils and now it was their turn to be consigned to the same prison which had incarcerated Redmond. Obstinate defense was made for Holdgate by the father of his affianced bride, but when sentence was finally passed it was for life at hard labor. Holdgate, before his confinement, made a full confession. In 1836, the laws of the state were revised and the penalties of several offenses were altered. Forgery, from a life imprisonment penalty, was reduced to a maximum of five years. The Pugilist regained his freedom, to return to a mode of life that often brought him in contact with the police and that left him free to lead his attack on the Gazette sanctum. For the Pewterer: There was a welcome in store for him which can only be found in the priceless treasure of a woman's love. The true heart which had bestowed the blossoms of its first affections upon the misguided artizan, had never ceased to throb toward his gloomy prison, and though he came back to her a degraded outcast, despised and branded with a felon's shame, it bestowed on him at once the faithfully treasured harvest of its unalterable love. They were married. As for the Publican: On his return home, Redmond found his house illuminated to receive him, and distrustful friends who had shrunk from him through his ordeal, now gathered shamefacedly in an effort to make amends. The city, wild [42] SINS OF NEW YORK with a desire to make redress for his wrongs, saw the leading citizens arrange a public dinner in his honor, also a benefit was tendered him by the manager of the Bowery Theatre. The profit from this affair was turned over by Redmond to alleviate the condition of the poor prisoners awaiting trial. His suit against the bank employees was settled for a few thousand dollars, which hardly covered his actual losses. Sad to relate, the strain of his troubles affected Redmond's health, and with his physical decline his hotel never regained its former prosperity. He died a bankrupt in 1843. [43] VIRGINIA OF VIRGINIA A Red-Hot Mamma of the Forties TIHIS horrible affair"---citing the National Police Gazette of October 3', i846, in its editorial comment upon the matter which carried through various issues under the heading of "The Richmond Tragedy"-"though more than a month old, has outlived the limit of ordinary horrors [the Gazette went strong in its usage of the word horrible]..... Apart from the social position of the parties involved, the offense which cave rise to the bloody denouement is an extraordinary case of adultery in which the bold, flagrant and licentious woman made the weak, vain man convertible to her desires." Study of this particular illicit love affair, which was quite the topic of its times, would make it seem that the righteous Gazette was rather inclement with the man in the case. At least, as it will be seen, he died like a gentleman with a lie on his lips in defense of his lady love, and he was apparently deeply enamored of his charmer. And the frail fair one was not only easy to look at, but her epistolary wooing was so high-powered in romantic expression-well, it is no wonder at all that this poor bachelor was taken by this seductive dame of Richmond, even, as the common phrase has it, this Virginia City was later taken by General Grant. Her letters to the man whose death she brought about were such burning outpourings of a love-hungry heart that it is too bad, indeed, that-but wait. Strictly speaking, the Richmond Tragedy had little to do with New York and its sinful ways, though the Astor House, in Broadway, then the most splendid hotel in all the country and even all the world, figured slightly in the case, and New York was agog in a ribald and scandalized interest. The circulation of the Gazette took a tremendous jump with its issue of October 24, 1846, for in this number the first of the above-mentioned love letters were reproduced in print. They came to light during the taking of the testimony in the Mayor's Court, Richmond, Virginia, in the examination of William R. Myers (husband of Virginia) as principal, and Samuel S. Myers (brother of William) and William S. Burr, as aiders and abettors in the murder of Dudley Marvin Hoyt for supposed illicit intercourse [44 ] VM ZX wV VY Yii*nY MtMI HWOM OzaMRlXOHOVuL9 MTV.LNzX dOSZRIHO RI M GZZ a!JU 2 I36AR ~IT" *svaa~izsfli i sJHQXil 3'ivwaa ZHi V-- 27 Rew 11 16K I I N 'I 7 SINS OF NEW YORK with the wvife of the principal. Excerpts from a few of these fervid pennings tell the progress of the tragedy. Wednesday, Dec. 3, 1845 I trust you will pardon the liberty I take in writing you, and the still grcatcr libcrty of begging you the favor of calling here tomorrow at i,,0clck..... I know you will have some scruples as to my request, but I appeal to the kindness of your heart. If you will be so kind as to call at i o'clock tomorrow you will find me alone..... May I beg of you the kindness to forgivc me this note. Yet, when you know the cause you will pardon me. What I have written is strictly confidential, and knowing your high, noble sense of honor, I need say no more. Although I have not the honor of your acquaintance, yet, believe me, I am one of your warmest, most sincere friends.... Virginia M. "It will be seen," points out the Gazette, "that her bold and amorous character is revealed at the outset; that Mrs. Myers, while yet unacquainted with Hoyt, deliberately and of herself contrived the first meeting." She was not so slow for a small city gal, and in a day well before the ladies are supposed to have been taking stock of their various rights. Nor do the facts at hand enable us to enlighten as to what it was about Mr. Hoyt that made for his sex appeal, though his sideburns are described as "very elegant." Anyway, whatever it was that Virginia had need of discussing so urgently with a gentleman whose acquaintance she had not yet enjoyed, a second interview was requested in a letter which contained "warm expressions of satisfaction at the results produced by their first meeting." Her amatory thoughts were expressed to the boy friend thus: My Dearest and Best Friend:-This morning I received a note from a lady I am to go visiting, that she would prefer my going Monday instead of Tuesday. Now won't you come Tuesday? If you cannot come that day I will excuse myself to her, for on no account on earth would I miss the pleasure of seeing you. You will come, won't you? I had anticipated so much delight in seeing you Monday.... The postponement of one day seems very long to me..-... All Monday, I shall be thinking of the pleasure of seeing you; and I hope the time may pass quickly until our meetinig.... Don't laugh at this note--for I have written it fresh from my heart..... Come, dearest, at 12, o'clock, instead of i o'clock..... I will go to the theatre tomorrow night if only to rest my eyes on your dear face and tell you with a glance how wholly I love.... [46] SINS OF NEW YORK ' 1 HIH~) t~ j 1- r I "-- - -- 2-- q W-- m THE FEMALE DRUMMER'S ARTS. & NOVEL AND SUCCEEPUL MsTBOD ADOPTED AS AN JUEPEIMENT BY TWO OP THr MIECHANT PRINCES OfP NW TORK CTT. No getting away from it, Virginia was a fast worker. So it is no surprise that her next letter, which was written on the Friday following, confessed to being Hoyt's wife, save in the empty ceremony. And by now she was vowing that no other man should touch the lips which he had kissed, nor would her form be [47] SINS OF NEW YORK clasped by another. Which, the Gazette seems to intimate, was not at all nice for a married lady. "'This lovxe of you," she wrote, "is raging like a storm in my heart-burning, my sweet, like an electric shock through my soul. I love you better than Heaven, and I call to it to witncss this vow, that my whole person is sacredly yours." In less than the year this correspondence was continued Mrs. Myers must have written more than fifty letters, of which close to one-half were read in the courtroom and every one breathed with love's transports of devotion and its throes of dejection. Such Elinor Glynish self-expression was deemed that of a depraved female. Virginia even feigned illness so she would not have to leave town with her husband and might remain in Richmond with her lover. Finally, during the summer Of 1846, she was forced to accompany her husband to New York and from the Astor House her distracted letter sets forth: I was unable to close my eyes in sleep all last night, and the distress of being away from you is killing me. You may hear of my taking my life any hour. The only thing that has stayed my hand from taking laudanum is the thought you still love me. Letters were also read from Hoyt that were almost as long and as love laden, though not so numerous, as those penned by Virginia. In one just before the tragic ending of the infatuation, in endeavoring to reassure as to how sincere was his feeling, he penned these lines that were fraught with a significance that he did not then realize: You must know, Virginia, dearest Virgini~a, how anxious I am to make you a happy woman, that I would willingly give my life to accomplish it, would that but do. Soon after the return to Richmond an anonymous letter apprised Mrs. Myers' brother-in-law of her intimacy with Hoyt. She soon saw she was under suspicion, which caused her to send a warning that advised the return of her letters. The SINS OF NEW YORK wounded in the tenderest point, Mr. Myers hurried to Richmond to glut his vengeance where he had been so foully wronged. In the agitation of her extremity Virginia wrote as follows: O God! Was ever misery like mine? Wretched days and sleepless nights. What hope is there for me? Tomorrow decides my fate. I am separated from my husband and compelled to return to a house where I well know how I shall be received. My father is a stern-hearted man. What stays my hand when all can be ended in a moment? Oh! that I could see you for one moment-just one instant! I have sat for hours by my window hoping that I might see you. For one hour with thee, I would give up life itself. Dearest, never forget-never forget; swear to me you never will-your promise that my last moments shall be spent with you. You will be sent for, that I promise; and oh, tell me, that you will not refuse to come; then I will be happy, knowing that my last breath will be in your arms.... Think of me tomorrow, when my fate is to be decided, and oh! pray God to have mercy on me... All my friends believing me ill, and not having heard the cause of my distress, have called to see me. But I am in too much agony and can see no one... only you, I want to see. And on that same afternoon she wrote one more letter, which was also intercepted, and in which she promised to be waiting by her window at midnight, when she would lower him a farewell note on a string, and that he should attach his reply which she asked to strengthen her through her coming ordeal. "Tell me," she wrote, "you are mine forever and then they may condemn me." On the next day came the tragedy. The following was reprinted in the Gazette from the Richmond Inquirer as apparently pertinent to the case: The case of the Commonwealth vs. W. R. Myers, S. S. Myers and Wm. S. Burr, was continued, not, however, in the legal sense of the term, before the Hustings Court on yesterday. The whole day very nearly was occupied in the reading of the intercepted letters of Mrs. Myers, introduced in behalf of the Commonwealth. It is understood they are brought forward to rebut the evidence given in the defense, to falsify the dying declaration of Hoyt. ACQUITTAL OF THE PARTIES-On Monday the argument in the case of the Richmond Tragedy was continued and concluded. The case was then submitted, and the Court stood FiVE TO TWO for acquittal, and the parties were discharged. The courtroom was crowded almost to suffocation with spectators, who lingered through the long argument, full [49] 3P# ce 0 0 0 0 W4 0 0 z 0 0 0 b44 ",WI,. [ 50 ] SINS OF NEW YORK of anxiety for the result. When that was ascertained, such a burst of applause took place as we never heard in a court of justice. In this wise the Gazette correspondent dramatically gives the particulars of the tragedy: William Myers, his brother Samuel, and Burr, forced their way into Hoyt's room at about 7 o'clock in the morning, while the latter was still in bed. Burr thrust a letter before Hoyt which he demanded must be signed. It was a pledge that Hoyt would leave Richmond and never return to the city under penalty of death. Hoyt stoutly refused. Col. Samuel Myers then brandished a stick over Hoyt and said that he must sign or take the consequence. Hoyt answered coolly: "Gentlemen, I shall decline signing this paper." Whereupon William Myers drew a revolver and fired twice as Hoyt started to rise from the bed. The weapon was only a foot away from his person as the trigger was pressed and the bullet was discharged full in his face and pierced the brain above the right eye. He was instantly blinded with the blood of his wound, yet still attempted to defend himself, when he received a second ball, which passed through the fleshy part of one thigh and buried itself in the other. And in this brave fashion the honor of a Virginia gentleman was avenged. And the villain in the case? Why, as he fell to the floor blinded with the gush of his life-blood and believing the words would be the last (which they were) he would ever utter, cried: "She is innocent!" This chapter should be rounded out with an account of how Virginia committed suicide over the resting-place of her lover, or at least pined away in sadness to an early grave. Only that was not what really happened. Hardly a month later she was trying to exonerate herself at the expense of her dead lover in a letter to a friend, which she took pains to have given out to the public, and which wound up as follows: May God enable me to bear my trial meekly, assured that high heaven will not always shroud the pure innocence of Your afflicted friend, Virginia Myers At which point the Gazette waxed very indignant editorially and lost interest in Virginia of Virginia. Which, by now, is possibly the case with the reader. [ 5'] GOUGH AND THE GAZETTE The Trials of the Tippling Temperance. Talker W HEN the Gazette removed John B. Gough, one of the foremost of the temperance lecturers of the Forties, from a bawdy house on Walker Street, and in a very intoxicated condition, New York's crusading weekly started something that not a few,ut-of-town papers were not pleased to copy. Notwithstanding, the business got plenty of play in print all over the nation. In fact it got the press quite roused, for some of the newspapers were strong temperance organs, and certain dailies, particularly of Boston, tried to undermine the Gazette articles and came back with all manner of charges, and the Tribune and the Journal of Commerce, both of New York, became very much embroiled. Really, it was a sad business. On the one hand, as we have said, the Gazette claimed to have found Mr. Gough right where they said and under conditions as stated. And, unfortunately, as the paper proceeded to bring strong proof of its charges the temperance disciple was forced more or less to admit as much, but-there was the Gough side of the affair to be taken into consideration. It would appear from Gough's own lips in explanation, that he was the victim, nothing more or less, of very dirty work on the part of dastardly enemies to the cause of temperance. His story, which he stuck to, explained how a most mysterious Jonathan Williams, or it might have been Williamson, invited the temperance talker to partake of a drink of raspberry soda, the Williams, or Williamson, person "looked into my face with a devilish expression of exultation which I never shall forget." John B. Gough, it would appear, arrived in this city on his way to Albany and put up at the Croton Hotel. After tea he went out and for an entire week was among the missing. Alarmed at his disappearance, his friends issued conspicuous placards with a description of his person and attributing his singular disappearance to accident or foul play at the hands of the rum-dealers. "The entire city was in a fever," so we read, "and the press and the public made up their minds at once for an interesting horror." Alas, acting on information which was brought to the Gazette in a mysterious [52] SINS OF NEW YORK B ii.l n L ' *],f"l"". I I I' iii! I II ii I BEAUTY AND THE BEER. AN INCIDKNT Or THE BER-.MAKER'S STRIKE IN NEW YORK-HOW THA DASHING DAUGHTER OP A BREWER SUPPLID THE PLACS OP ONS OF HER PATHER'S 8TRIKING EMPLOYBES-A PRETTY OIRL'S PRACTCAL PROTEST AGAINST TBETOTALISM. way, instead of directly to the police, George Wilkes, one of the owners of the paper, made an investigation of the Walker Street address given, which was located in a labyrinth of rookeries. After mounting two flights of stairs in a rickety rear-building, directions were followed through a passage that led to a bedroom and[53] SINS OF NEW YORK There we found him, John B. Gough, the mere shadow of a man, pacing the floor with tottering and uncertain steps. He was pale as ashes; Ihis eyes glared with a preternatural luster], his limbs trembled, and his fitful and wandering stare evinced his mind was as much shattered as his body. The pompous horror had dissolved from its huge proportions, and shrunk into a very vulgar and revolting commonplace. The man was drunk. That was all that was the matter with him-the man was drunk (and apparently did not carry his liquor well). But if you think the Gazette picture was a bit OOIIO FOR HLS SCALP. TwoD!zUl&r" P DUams. ON 3afo MZPmK rFOm A TERRA D AVUK VOTCCO SM V12T TULSA UAOS 014Ai ID AWLLLS INDIANA SLO. lurid, you should bear in mind that it was the end of a hard week for the temperance advocate and naturally he did not look so good. After calling in an officer from the police station this representative of law and order was sent to accompany Gough back to his distressed friends, who were probably more distressed when they saw what had been brought back to them. No immediate reference was made to the business by the Gazette "out of respect to a worthy cause," so it was said, though neither Wilkes nor Fox, judging by the examples of their artists, had much respect for the temperance advocates. One cannot help having suspicions that the spot was [54] SINS OF NEW YORK awaited until the desirable moment had come for its "revolting revelations." Silence was maintained until Gough issued his "confession" from Boston in explanation of his disappearance. Then the Gazette was indeed heard from and from then on things got rapidly no better. It was rather unfortunate that Gough had to be so vague in his facts concerning the identity of Williams or Williamson; the exact location of the place where he had imbibed the efficacious draught of raspberry soda; even the name of the shop where he had been betrayed, to say nothing of other essential details. And he questioned that the building in which he had been found was a house of illfame and had much else to say, all of which was endorsed by the Mount Vernon Congregational Church and other religious bodies, by various temperance societies, and by quite a few newspapers as "a free and artless confession of the truth." Against this there was plenty of public, press, and even pulpit derision of the confession, and the temperance advocates, themselves, came to odds over the business. An article that got the Gazette going well was published in the Boston Star under the signature of "Corporal"-"to distinguish his rank among the literary understrappers of his city," opines the Gazette. "Corporal" even went so far as to insinuate that blackmail was back of the exposure of Gough and that the Gazette was an inveterate enemy of not only temperance, but all religion as well. To which the Gazette came back with the news that it was quite true there had been some money handled. That friends of Gough, when the latter had been delivered in their hands gave up one hundred dollars to the officer under the impression that he had been the main agent in the backslider's restoration. Evidently, the policeman did not feel that Gough's return was worth all that money; though that may not have been the reason he brought the amount back to the office of the Gazette. "And," reports the said Gazette, "we refused the money, but divided it in two parts, giving half to the officer and a like amount to the person who had furnished us with the information that led to the discovery of Gough in the Walker Street brothel-we kept the balance." And then the Gazette started to fire its hottest shrapnel in the way of printer's ink and proceeded to impart the news that the Walker Street visit which had been exposed was not Mr. Gough's first escapade; that he was neither a stranger to the use of liquor, nor to the slums of the thoroughfare in question, and that he picked up a female on the Broadway stage-coach. Which brought into the case "the woman [551 SINS OF NEW YORK ALMOST TRAPPED. AN EPISCOPAL MINISTER IN NEW YORK JUST MISSES BECOMINO THE VICTIM OF A HORRIBLE AND CANDALOQS BLACKMAILINQ RACKET in black" (who was apparently the one who had supplied the Gazette with the information as to Gough's whereabouts when he was where he most certainly should not have been). Let us lift from the pages of the righteous Gazette: We will now claim the privilege which the unjust imputations of the "Corporal's" article confers upon us, of stepping beyond the immediate transaction of the memorable week referred to, and examine some other [561 SINS OF NEW YORK MACHINATIONS OF A FEMALE TEMPTRESS. EJIELLS WHICH BE8IE' THE PATH OF YOUNG MYEA WHO RIDE IN BROADWAY bTAUES; NLNV YO1U. features that pertain to the same story. In these we will preserve the same candor which has distinguished every portion of our statement. One day, about six or seven weeks previous to the 6th of September, the period of Gough's last arrival in New York, he accosted a certain tall, good-looking woman dressed in black and with dark hair and eyes while in the Broadway stage. This was between the hours of nine and ten o'clock in the evening. In the conversation which ensued, he said he had been out riding on horseback, that he was very much fatigued, and that he wanted to accompany her home. To this she replied that she could not take him to her home, but would take him somewhere else. The arrangements being thus concluded, she conveyed him to the same house in Walker Street which he afterward rendered so memorable. We are further informed, that for certain reasons nothing further of a criminal nature took place, and that the parties after an interview of considerable length, withdrew to different rooms, Gough giving his interesting new acquaintance a five-dollar gold-piece before retiring, and leaving the house at an early hour in the morning. Nothing more is heard of him in this quarter until the afternoon of Friday, September 6, when he arrived in the New Haven steamboat at Peck Slip, with the intention of proceeding to Albany. Immediately, on landing [57] SINS OF NEW YORK from the boat, he was seen by a gentleman of high standing and unimpeachable character, walking up the pier in company with a woman who must have met him by agreement. That we may no longer grope in mystery, we will mention the name of the gentleman, Dr. Joel G. Candee, Dentist, No. 20 Park Place, of this city, and our informants on this point are Mr. Flanagan, a Deputy United States Marshall, and Mr. Stockwell, keeper of the Temperance Croton Lunch, on the corner of the Bowery and Iivision Street. That this circumstance is positively true we therefore cannot doubt. It is certain that the lady was not Mr. Gough's wife, for that lady was in Albany. It is certain that Mr. Gough's friends, upon his recovery, made him acquainted with the charge. Well, Mr. Gough gets to the Croton Hotel that evening, goes out after tea and with the "woman in black" goes to the Walker Street house, and by which time he is already intoxicated. He remained there until the following evening, when he slipped out, went privately to his hotel and returned again immediately to his cyprian retreat. On the following Monday the "woman in black" came back to the house to pay a visit to a friend there. Her female acuteness at once detected that there was more than ordinary mystery in relation to an inmate of an upper room, and setting in operation that ingenuity with which woman is so ready, she induced the girl in charge to go to the corner for a pint of cherry brandy. During which absence she slipped into the mysterious closet, and at once recognized the occupant of the room, and he immediately recognized her. It was Gough, and with the exclamation that she was the person he wanted to see, besought her to remain. But the owner of the apartment coming, the conversation was broken off, and poor Gough lost his inamorata altogether. His subsequent delivery from the house is already known. Then the Gazette proceeded to show Gough up even further. For attention was called to "two other drunken sprees of the drunken apostle," and evidence was then produced of his fall from grace some months later, "both these cases of fatigue taking place in Massachusetts." Before closing with the regret that they should be accused "of writing in a bitter and unfeeling spirit" the Gough career was reviewed in this wise: Take one look back through his whole history, and the mind reels back sickened and disgusted with the spectacle. We first find him a mere brute wallowing in the mire and degradation of continual drunkenness; next a temperance apostle and member of a church, who, notwithstanding his solemn vows and pledges before the altar of his God, and his sacred pledges before man, returns back to his vomit, and seeks solace for his forced abstemiousness in the secret orgies and caresses of drunken prosti[58] SINS OF NEW YORK tutes. A beast in the commencement, next a mountebank and a hypocrite; and a wretch and villain in the last. And he must remain so branded until he can translate a brothel to an honest dwelling and make a holy sanctuary of a harlot's bosom.... We do not consider the letter of Mr. Bates as any testimony at all, for though it represents the writer as traveling with his wife (whom he had married the day before) and in company with Gough from the 4th to the 7th of August, inclusive [dates when the Gazette accused Gough of being elsewhere] it says he was not out of the company of Bates for a single hour in the whole four days. This was a very extraordinary way of passing the honeymoon, to say the least. Mr. Candee was prevailed upon to come to the defense of Gough, but did so rather weakly by saying that he had no knowledge that the lady seen walking the Peck Slip pier with Gough was no lady, but might have been the latter's wife. This refutation did not help the Gough cause to any extent, as it was known that Mrs. Gough was elsewhere at the time. Other papers than the Gazette asked pointedly why Gough did not act on the request of the Mayor of New York, to furnish such information as was needed to further an investigation that would permit of getting to the bottom of his alleged drugging. [59] Mr. Cnewaprvile pnt oet h efneo ogbtdds rathe ekyb yayn tha h had no knwldg tha the lad see wlki ngth Pec Slppe ihGuhwsn ay utmgthv entelte' ie This refutatio did not hel the\ Gog as ayetna twskonta Mrs. Gog aseswhr t h ime te aesta h aet se poinedl wh Gogh id ot at o th reues ofthe ayo ofNewYor, t funs suhifraina a eddt ute nivsiainta ol Mr Cneewa reale uo t om t hedfeseo [59]bu ids SINS OF NEW YORK Gough advocates rallied vigorously to his support and tried their utmost to pull down the Gazette charges, only to be confounded completely when such a high personage in temperance work as B. F. Goodhue came through with the report of his personal investigation of the sad business. "I love the temperance cause-but will not lie to bolster up hypocrisy," he said in a letter that teemed with the straightforwardness of a sincere man. Goodhue had been instrumental in bringing about Gough's entry into the field of temperance. His letter was about 3,500 words in length and took up more than three columns of the Gazette. It is sufficient to reproduce the headlines and it can be judged quite well, whether or no, this was another Gazette victory. THE LIAR'S DOOM! STATEMENT OF Mr. B. F. GOODHUE, THE CELEBRATED TEMPERANCE MISSIONARY, Of the DRUNENNESS, DEBAUCHERIES, and BLASPEMIESO of JOHN B. GOUGH, WITH AN EXPOSURE OP THE FORGERIES AND OTHER VILE AND VILLANOUS PRACTISES WHICH HAVE BEEN RESORTED TO BY HIS UNPRINCIPLED ASSOCIATES, TO SUSTAIN HIM IN HIS INPAlT. And in the end, when Gough failed to make good a threat to sue the Gazette, then the Gazette started suit against Gough. This led to a backdown on the part of the tippling temperance talker and the suit was not pressed. The Gazette being satisfied to make Gough take water, especially as Gough would not seem to have liked so doing, having a preference for raspberry soda. [60] THE MERRY YULETIDE MURDER Thrice Tried, Once Convicted, Polly Bodine Escapes Gallows WHAT a paper so strident of expression as the violently moral Gazette could do with a really grisly murder story can be imagined. The P. G. of its early days saw that its pages were never without a horrific murder and if the country at large did not come up to expectations in this respect then Messrs. Wilkes and Camp would turn to the journals of England, France or Germany to provide such entertainment for their readers. The murder of Adeline M. Spencer over in Jersey City by her husband, and the murder of Maria Ann Bickford up in Boston by some other lady's husband, each provided ghastly perusal features in the late Forties. However, we will take for our subject a murder from earlier in the decade to which you are being carried, and which, though it occurred almost two years before the Gazette came into existence, still got plenty of attention from that paper as the accused, Polly Bodine, was being tried for the third time as said Gazette started to flourish. It was known as the "Staten Island Murder" and was harrowing and mystifying in the extreme, the mystery being-how Polly Bodine came to escape the gallows. This particular case had to do with the murder of Mrs. Emeline Houseman and her infant child under conditions that brought many a shudder. The alleged murderess was first tried on the 24th of June, 1844, in Richmond County, Staten Island, where the crime was committed. Conviction failed when one of the jurors stood out against the other eleven "because of his personal opposition to capital punishment, though he subsequently confessed to being convinced of her guilt." The second trial, held in New York, April, 1845, brought in a verdict of "guilty," but this conviction was rendered void by adverse decision of the Supreme Court, which disputed the presiding judge, John W. Edmonds, on a number of vital points. "When it was found impossible to panel a full jury, since twelve men out of a community of 400,000 persons could not be found who had not already arrived in their own mind as to the guilt of the prisoner, the venue was changed and the accused stood trial for the third time in Poughkeepsie, in April, I846." The facts in the [6 x] SINS OF NEW YORK case, as near as they were ever arrived at and as set forth by the Gazette, were as follows: On Christmas Eve, 1843, while the tiny Staten Island settlement known as Granite Village was busy in its own modest and rural way of spreading the spirit of "peace on earth, good will to man, the bodies of Emeline Houseman and her babe were being butchered by an atrocious hand in the little home on Staten Island." At half-past nine the following evening (Christmas night) the home of the Housemans was found to be on fire. The merriment in the neighboring homes soon gave THE BOSTON TRAGEDY. TERRELL MURDERING MARIA A. BI0EPOB, VWLS IM A BTATs OF SOMNAMUBLuIL way to universal commotion as the villagers hurriedly gathered to save the dwelling and its occupants. The house was completely closed and ingress was had only with some difficulty, and this was the sight, as pictured in the Gazette, that met the eye: Having extinguished the flames, they lifted the mass of ruins formed by the smouldering bed, and there to their astonishment discovered the charred remains of Mrs. Houseman and her infant. Every soul present re[62] SINS OF NEW YORK coiled with a shudder of unmingled horror, and cause for the non-appearance of the unfortunate woman during the day stood horribly revealed. She had been murdered! There was a red mark around her neck; around her wrists were the fragments of a handkerchief, which from the position of her hands and knees, showed plainly that she had been bound to her sacrifice. A part of her head had been burned away, and nearly all the cranium of the child was consumed to its base; a fragment of the infant's skull, with the scalp and hair attached, was found among the ruins, with the blood on the inner side fresh, proving that the fire had been but the sequel of the "Graceless action of some heavy hand." T''HE STATEN ISLAND TRAGEDY. Inurder o.Tl"r. Uo:i.lean nand Child, by Polls Bodinc. The victims of the tragedy were the wife and child of George W. Houseman, a prosperous trader in oysters. His business had called him to Virginia and it was early in December when he bade good-by to the loved ones he was not to see in life again. For he did not return to Granite Village until the day following the discovery of the murder. The finger of suspicion, for various good reasons, never pointed to the husband. On the way to his house of death, as he took passage from Pier I, on the half-past one boat for Staten Island, there came an accidental meeting that was fraught with significance in the viewpoint of the Gazette. On this very boat, as accident would have it, the wifeless and childless husband, met the woman (his sister, Polly Bodine) who was shortly to be branded as the murderess. On seeing him she burst into a flood of tears and touchingly bemoaned his sad misfortune; but Houseman, as if nature [63] SINS OF NEW YORK instinctively refused the hollow offering, avoided her presence and sought a refuge in solitude in the forward cabin. Two days later, Thursday, the 28th, the Coroner's Jury brought in a verdict of willful murder and a committee of investigation was appointed from among the inhabitants of the place. It was at first supposed that a gang of murderers had descended upon the island, their cupidity incited by the rumor that the sum of $1,ooo was in the possession of Emeline Houseman. This amount, which had been realized by Houseman just before the trip referred to, came through the sale of a schooner, and, it later turned out, had been secretly placed in the safekeeping of his mother, who lived nearby. So the only spoils that had come through this POLLY B3ODINWE, ON HER RECENT TRIAL AT NZWBUBG. horrible deed was some jewelry and personal effects of small value. This money, which had apparently cost the bereaved husband the life of his wife and child, was offered by him as a reward for the detection of the murderer, or murderers, and was accompanied with a minute description of the stolen property. It would seem only then that suspicion was first directed toward Polly Bodine. She expressed herself in strange ways as being in opposition to the offer of the reward, and she further attempted to pervert it by giving wrong descriptions of the articles stolen until corrected by other members of the family. How suspicion was still further fastened on Polly Bodine and how these suspicions culminated in her arrest will be left to the Gazette to relate. But first, for clearer understanding, a brief history of the alleged murderess is in order. Polly Bodine, at the time of the murder of her sister-in-law, was in the middle [64] SINS OF NEW YORK thirties. At the age of fifteen she married one Andrew Bodine, by whom she had two children, Eliza Ann, age fifteen, and Albert, slightly older. The couple separated after about five years due to misconduct on the part of the wife, and Bodine "became blunted in every moral sense and fell in with a woman much of the same stamp as himself, named Simpson, whom he married, despite the existing bonds with Polly." For this unlawful marriage Bodine, one year before the Houseman murder, was sentenced to the State Prison for two years. In the meanwhile, Polly, after some traveling about, fell in with a man named Waite, an apothecary with a store at 252 Canal Street, New York, and during this liaison, placed her son, Albert, as a clerk in the Waite store. On Friday, the reward was decided on, and the advertisement was sent up to the city in time for the evening papers. From this moment Polly Bodine seems to have lost the greatest portion of her self-command and in the extremity of her uneasiness is known to have sent the following dispatch to Waite, which was taken to the city by her son Albert. Mr. Waite, you can't imagine my troubles, as I slept with Emeline last. I want you to get a soot of clothes and come to see me with Albert. Close the store-you will be examined on my coming to New York on Monday. You and Albert must say that Albert came to the ferry for me and I remained with you all day, with the exception of going to Spring Street for about i o or 15 minutes to get a basket mended, went out the next morning about the same length of time, was going to stay some days, but her brother-in-law came to let her know about accident. I and my son returned to the island immediately, you will be treated well. We are all worn out with examinations. Your store and all is going to be searched and other places. Hide the things I left and put them where they cannot be found. If [writing obliterated for half a line] should ask [anothei obliteration] your house, say no. Going back to Sunday, December 24, we find that Miss Matilda O'Rourke visited the deceased at her house, left on 5 o'clock of that afternoon, when Polly Bodine came in for the evening, and for the purpose of sleeping with her sister-in-law, Houseman having arranged with his mother that his wife should be left alone in the house at night as little as possible, Emeline being of timid disposition. Miss O'Rourke testified that when she left the house Mrs. Houseman put away the silver spoons, the sugar tongs, her gold watch, and also observed around the child's neck, the coral beads and clasp, which were afterwards pawned, with other things [65] SINS OF NEW YORK (4E-P-ITO01?THE LOBDT-PASMflAT[NG B~ERM WHTO CAPTIATE BUUBEP~rMLIJ TAT~VtEN BT FZMIniNEBLANDISMM' ANDAJID AIIIPULATN LEG12LATTTZ JOBS SUCCZ68FULLY FOR WEALTHrY CORPORATIONS WHERE "BARIAh 01 GREENBACKS PROVE.UNAVAILNG-CURI6S WDUI-PULLINO.STADtM SC-ENES AT ALBANY THAT EEPIAXN THE Szcwis ip KAxT LnmzLKoflztTolNS THAT PUZZLE THE TAL.PAYINO PUBLIO OF THE ZEILUETTI an PSA" 2. (and by one recognized as Polly Bodine), on the very day the murder was discovered. After having gone over to Mrs. Houseman's house as above described, Polly Bodine did not return home until six o'clock of the following morning Monday, when she was let in by her mother. Early that morning, Christmas, she journeyed to New York and went to Waite's store, where [661 SINS OF NEW YORK young Albert Bodine was gotten rid of on some pretense for fifteen or twenty minutes. Polly Bodine, after leaving the store on Canal Street two or three times, departed with the announcement that she was going to sleep for the night at the house of a Mrs. Strang. We must now go back for an hour or two for the purpose of inquiring what took place during the periods of Polly's absences from the Waite store; and the while the bodies of Emeline Houseman and her child lay butchered in that silent, noiseless house on Staten Island. During the period of this absence a woman dressed in a cloak, hood and veil, went to the pawnbroker's shop of A. Adolphus, at 332 William Street, and offering a gold watch, wished to obtain a loan of $70. upon it. Adolphus offered $35. and the woman agreed, received the money, and gave the name of Henderson, of Bergen, N. J. It was the watch that had been given to Emeline Houseman by her husband. We next find this same woman at the pawnbroker's shop of John J. Levy, No. 32 East Broadway, where she pawned the gold chain belonging to the same watch. She obtained a loan of $25. and gave the name of Ellen Henderson, of Bergen, N. J. We find her also at the pawnbroker's shop of Davis, in Chatham Street, where she pawned the silver spoons which Miss O'Rourke had seen in the possession of the deceased; also to Hart's, 27 Chatham Street, where more of the spoons were pawned and the same name and address given. [Later, in three cases out of five, Polly Bodine and Ellen Henderson were identified as one and the same person.] And finally a woman visited the store of Thompson & Fisher, jewelers, No. 331 Broadway, and changed the earrings of the deceased, and the clasp of her infant and a breast-pin, for a hair bracelet, and received 50 cents change. Polly left Waite's on the eventful Christmas afternoon, to go as was stated before to Mrs. Strang's, to sleep that night; but Mrs. Strang, who lived at the time in Eighth Street testified that the accused did not sleep there that night, and had not slept there in three or four years. Polly's whereabouts, from the time of departure from Waite's house, on Christmas afternoon, until the following morning, stands to this hour unaccounted for. At half-past nine on that night the dwelling of George Houseman was discovered to be on fire. The fire was entirely confined to the corner in which the bed stood. All of the witnesses who saw the fire swear that the fire appeared to be under the bed. The post mortem examination by Drs. Harrison, Clarke and Eadie proved conclusively that violence had been used previous to the fire. The radius of the left arm was broken and the end of the fractured bone charred, showing that the fire had been communicated subsequently through the fracture. Near the fracture was a flesh wound an inch, or an inch and a half in length, with extravasated blood, denoting that it must have been inflicted previous to death. The right wrist had a black silk [67] SINS OF NEW YORK handkcrchief bound tight around it, and was consumed to the knot. Other marks, with the position of the body, indicate a violent death. The front kitchen door was found unfastened by the lock, bolt and bar which usually fastened it. As John Thompson, a neighbor's boy, tried the door in the morning, and found it fastened, it appears most certain, the person who fire(] the building entered that way, and must have had the key. When was this horrid deed performed? Who did the deed? This question, from the circumstances which have been elicited, connects itself with a further query-where was Polly Bodine when it was done? The last we have seen of her was on Christmas day afternoon about 4 o'clock. We next hear of her on Tuesday morning between six and seven o'clock after the fire at Staten Island, going on board of the boat to New York (though she knew it did not start until eight). She then had something to eat and took a seat 'in an obscure part of the cabin and never moved until the boat reached New York. On the same boat was Mr. S. B. Freeman, on his way to New York to find Polly Bodine and acquaint her with the murder. Neither met the other during the trip and Freeman left his information at Waite's store. A few minutes later Polly came in. She returned to Staten Island with her son, Albert, on the halfpast one o'clock boat. During the passage she met her brother, George, under the circum-stances already related. And it was during this passage that she turned over to Albert a newly purchased hair bracelet with directions to give it to his sister, Eliza Ann. But on arriving at Port Richmond Polly resumed possession of the hair bracelet, and all trace of this damning piece of evidence was lost trace of from then on. On the following Friday, te day on which te reward ad een offered for the discovery of the guilty, as she waited impatiently the coming of Waite, Polly suddenly got up and departed from the house of her mother. After she had been absent a short time, search was made for her high and low. The house was ransacked, and even the well was looked into, on the presumption that she had committed suicide, but the. search was fruitless, and the dreadful suspicion by her own family of her guilt stood half confirmed. How and where she spent that dreadful night, no one but herself can tell. She had on neither shawl nor hat when she left the room and her dress was a thin one, a nd the night was f reez7ing cold. Buit on the following SINS OF NEW YORK set out to return to his place of business, but was placed under arrest on board of the boat and taken into custody. On searching him, the letter from Polly Bodine was found. This letter changed every doubt of her guilt, and the cry was up for Polly Bodine. The officers went first to Waite's house, arriving there between six and seven o'clock that evening and found the bird flown, though the bed was still warm. The following noon she was accosted on Spring Street near Hudson by a Mr. Coddington, who recognized her, and called her attention to the fact that he had read a notice in the Herald that her arrest was desired. She told Coddington she had not eaten or had sleep for many hours, had walked over the city from Harlem back. Coddington took her to the house of Alderman Vandervoort, and after a short stay she was driven to the Tombs in a carriage. The same day she was taken to Staten Island and consigned to Richmond County Prison. In face of all this evidence, how did Polly Bodine escape the gallows? Was this one more miscarriage of justice? The facts against her were certainly most damning in contrast to those which saved her. Judge Barculo, who charged the jury in the final trial-the one in which she gained her freedom-stressed this point: If the murder was committed on Christmas, when Polly Bodine stayed in the Houseman dwelling, then the presumption must be almost irresistible, that she was the one who had committed the deed. Against this fact, three witnesses, who could observe the house of murder from their own windows, testified that they saw some woman whom they presumed to be Emeline Houseman at work on her porch during the afternoon of Christmas Day. No stress seemed to be placed on the fact that the stolen jewelry and silverware, which was being pawned that day in New York, would have been a sufficient excuse for Emeline Houseman to raise an alarm if she was still alive at the time, since she would almost surely have discovered the disappearance of her valuables. The identification of Polly Bodine by the pawnbrokers as the one who disposed of the stolen jewelry was deservedly a weak point against her. The mode of identification adopted by the prosecution was irregular, particularly in view of the fact that a reward of $1,ooo. was practically on the head of the accused. The three witnesses who identified Polly Bodine as one and the same person were taken to the [69] SINS OF NEW YORK prison room in which she was confined alone, instead of having her picked out from among a number of persons. No significance, in this trial where Polly Bodine fared best, was seemingly attached to the disappearance of the hair bracelet which she retook from her son on the boat trip fromn New York to Staten Island. SUBSTITUTE FOR THE DEATH PENALTY. As to the mystery of the whereabouts of the accused on Christmas night, when fire was set to the Houseman residence, here 'is what Judge Barculo's charge had to say on that point: The prisoner does not attempt to prove where she was on that night. She told her son, Albert, that she was going to stay with an acquaintance in the city, but it is proved she did not do so. Why she told this falsehood does not appear, except that her counsel attempts to explain it by saying she slept at Waite's that night and did not wish Albert to know it. It is submitted to you, however, to say whether this explanation is satisfactory, when Albert expressly swears he slept with Waite in the same bed that night. [ 70]1 SINS OF NEW YORK Needless to say, the escape of Polly Bodine brought its meed of vitriolic comment from the astounded Gazette. A two-column editorial paid its respects to the "blockheads of a sheriff's panel and the drivelers of the bench." It was inclined to take the case as another evidence of increasing opposition to capital punishment and added with a note of hopelessness: We must have a reform and that right speedily, or the community must resign themselves to a state of things which will outhorror the darkest ages of crime..... The verdict of NOT GUILTY in this case, it is needless to say, has been received with mingled sensations of horror and indignation but little short of those excited on the first discovery of the crime. Every man and woman feels it, and the cheeks which blanched at the original recital of the barbarous deed, now kindle with indignation that the ghosts of the butchered innocents must forever wander unavenged. [7' 1 WHEN MEN WERE-MANHANDLERS About John Morrissey and Murder, and Bill Poole and Politics P HYSICAL combat, professionally, (and for its present-day standing the Fox Gazette carries no little responsibility) has long since been reduced to a business of boxing contests in which two well-conditioned athletes belabor each other with padded mitts before tremendous gatherings which, in the case of very important matches, include many of the most representative men and women of the country. A few hours later, the combatants, usually little the worse for their conflict, are paid a fortune for their efforts; in one instance one combatant, Gene Tunney, was paid very close to one million dollars for his thirty minutes within the roped arena. The outcome may be followed by some bitter discussion, but that is all. Three-quarters of a century ago, when John Morrissey fought it out with Bill Poole to determine which was entitled to recognition as the champion rough-andtumble fighter, this was decidedly a brutal life-and-death business and a mere boxing contest was then in utter defiance of law and order. Though no reams of advance publicity appeared in the newspapers concerning the impending conflict, the battle between the two had been brewing for long and the entire city of New York and most of the country looked forward with anxious dread to the meeting of the two. And the fight and what followed became a very important news item through the press of the country after it had come about. For it was a matter that held political import. Although the National Police Gazette, through the efforts of its subsequent owner, Richard K. Fox, laid the foundations for the tremendous prominence that has since been given to the sport of pugilism, a quarter of a century was to go by before what was probably the clearest story of the Morrissey-Poole fray and its relative details was set down in print. In i88o Fox prevailed on Theodore Allen to assist in its writing. "The" Allen, as he was generally known, was then the proprietor of the "Bal Mabille," one of the leading resorts of the fast and the fancy. He then had back of him a record of thirty years as a political bully, keeper of gambling houses and worse; had been concerned in many rough-and-tumble fights and [72] SINS OF NEW YORK shooting frays and had figured in numerous other transactions that made him amenable to the law, though until then he had always managed to escape conviction. Allen had been more than a mere eyewitness to the Morrissey-Poole epic; he had played an important part through the entire momentous violence. Tammany's political despotism was more than challenged by the Native American, or Know Nothing organization and factional antipathy then did not even halt at murder. Each political party had its representation of tough henchmen. Under the banner of the Native Americans were Tom Hyer, who had licked Yankee Sullivan in BILL POOLE, THE FAMOUS SPORTING MAN, POLITICIAN, AND FIOTER- JOHN MORRISSEY, CoSNdII M N, STATE SENATOR, OGAMLER AND SEE PAOE i4 FOR DESCRTION OF HIa GRBEA BATTLE WITH PUGILIST-FUJ ltLJII'KNSCENCES OF 111U VVENTFUL LIFE SEE MOBRSSEI. PAGE 14. 17 minutes and 18 seconds in a fight for the American heavyweight pugilistic title, and his friend Bill Poole, rated the peer of rough-and-tumble fighters. Morrissey had aligned himself with the Tammany force, which boasted such fearless sluggers and merciless roughs as Yankee Sullivan; Pat "Paugene" McLaughlin, a cruel little manhandler, who had parted with his nose by the teeth of Murray the Mick; and among others, Lew Baker, who attempted to assassinate Hyer, and who finally did Poole to death. Morrissey not only challenged the ring supremacy of Hyer, but declared himself a better man than Poole in an "everything-goes" battle. He styled [73 SINS OF NEW YORK himself the American Champion on the strength of a decision over Sullivan after Hycr had announced his retirement, the bout in question terminating in a general fight after 53 minutes of milling and Sullivan being ruled the loser for having left the ring. This bout was in October, 1853. It was soon after the New Year in 1855 that a row started in a saloon in the basement of Wallack's Theatre on Broadway, the Morrissey challenge to Hyer being the basis of the quarrel. Before the argument had progressed very far Baker's confederate, Jim Turner, drew a gun and shot at Hyer, the ball grazing the champion's neck. Hyer, a quiet man for all his fighting record, but a dangerous person when roused, turned on Turner and drawing his own gun contemptuously discharged his shot into the wall. The smoke was still curling from his pistol when he saw the reflection of Turner in a mirror in the act of again cocking his pistol. Wheeling quickly he grasped Turner by the neck and threw him violently to the floor. At the same time Baker attacked Hyer from the rear, using the butt of his gun on Hyer's head. The latter then gave his attention to Baker and was proceeding to treat him the same as he had Turner, when a policeman entered and Hyer turned Baker over to the officer for arrest. The representative of the law declined to interfere in what was termed a private dispute, even though Baker had drawn a "knife. So Hyer proceeded to finish with Baker and deposited him in the gutter in an insensible condition, though he had his hand severely cut before this task was accomplished to his own satisfaction. And so the war was on in earnest between the rival political brawlers. Baker got another licking a few days later from Poole, who would probably have had both of Baker's eyes out if the police had not happened along in time. Whereupon, Morrissey told the world that he was going out to get Bill the Butcher. Poole, by now, had given up his butcher business and started a drinking-place on the corner of Broadway and Howard Street and which was known as the Bank Exchange. His admirers, in celebration of the venture, arranged a grand ball in his behalf in the Chinese Assembly Room, so-called on account of its oriental decorations, and where the first masquerade ball on skates was held. Deputations of sports and fast women and men from New Orleans, Charleston and Savannah and other large cities attended and there has seldom been such a free and easy company gathered as was present for this occasion. Morrissey and many of his followers also attended, but nothing of a troublesome nature happened until [74]1 SINS OF NEW YORK A MASQUERADE ON SKATES. THE LATEST PHASE OF 1 B ALL-CONQUBRINO CRAZE OF ROLLBR-RININKINO ILLUSTRATED IN THE CJTY OF NEW YORE. shortly after the ball was over and the two met in the bar of the City Hotel, which was opposite Poole's place of business. From this point we will let Allen tell the story. "The" was privileged to take a very intimate part through the entire business. He had been a helper in Poole's market and had resigned to become a political prote6g of Bill the Butcher, who had [75] SINS OF NEW YORK been taken with the way young Allen had handled himself against several desperate ruffians. Morrissey was standing at the bar as Poole entered and advanced toward him. The place was full of people and all talk died down until there was not even a whisper. The two eyed each other coldly and alert. Morrissey was the first to speak. He spit his cigar from his mouth and then said defiantly: "There stands the black-muzzled American fighter." "Yes," responded Poole, sneeringly, with his favorite expression, "and I'm a dandy." "I can lick all the dandy out of you tomorrow morning," responded Morrissey. "What is more, I'll bet you five hundred dollars you don't dare meet me, and you can name the place." And he put fifty dollars as a forfeit in the hands of George Deagle, chief clerk of the hotel. "How about the foot of Christopher Street?" asked Poole. He had named a location within two or three blocks of his own home. Big Tom Burns, one of Morrissey's bosom friends, protested and broke out excitedly: "Don't go there, John; that's Poole's headquarters. His gang will never let you get away alive." After a moment's hesitation Morrissey tossed over fifty dollars to Poole and dared him to name another place. "How will the Amos Street dock suit you?" asked Poole. "That's satisfactory," was the bold answer. "I'11 be there bright and early," promised Poole. Five o'clock in the morning Poole came up to the Amos Street dock in a coach accompanied by "Smut" Ackerman, Tommy Culkin and myself [Allen]. Amos Street wharf was the next one above the Christopher Street dock. It was the only pier the opposition Albany boats landed at uptown. It was also used as a wood wharf, cordwood being heaped there in great piles. Numerous admirers of Poole had already put in appearance and they had cleared a place for the fight and were now camped on the piles and in the street, or rested themselves on sails that they had unbent from the spars of the sloops and schooners that were at anchor in the slip. It was more than an hour and a half from the time set at which Morrissey was expected to put in appearance and as there was a nipping coolness in the air of this February morning Poole decided to warm up by enjoying a bit of exercise. Poole and a couple of his boon companions and myself rowed across the river to Barker's Gardens, a resort over in Hoboken, near the ferry. There we had a few drinks, Poole calling for his favorite, milk punch. He took his turn at the oars on the way back so as to limber up. We pulled into the Hammond Street dock and then [76] SINS OF NEW YORK SCRAPPING FOR LOVE. THE EXCITABLE YOUNG LADIES OF APPLETON. WIS., INDULGE IN A FIGHT AT A BALL. left Bill to rest in the Village House, while I went down the street to see if Morrissey had yet put in appearance. Morrissey had not yet got uptown. A number of his friends, however, had started up Hudson Street in coaches. Poole's friends were laying in wait for them and every carriage that appeared was stopped and either upset or emptied of its inmates. A fight invariably ensued, which ended in "Old Smoke's" supporters making their departure for home or a hospital. r7 SINS OF NEW YORK It was nearing 7 A.M. before news, which traveled ahead of him, appriscd that Morrissey was driving up with a friend in a light wagon. I had time to get Poole to the wharf before Morrissey arrived. He came with Johnny Lyng, proprietor of the "Sportsman's Headquarters," at Canal Street and Broadway, and they walked toward us arm in arm. The crowd which swarmed on the dock made a lane for them to pass through and everything was very orderly thus far. Even the hundreds who crowded the roofs and windows of the adjacent buildings were quiet. But among the people,,n the pier was John Poole, Bill's brother. He had undergone a frightful mauling in Lyng's Place and burned for revenge. As Lyng passed John Poole, Bill's brother struck his enemy a smashing blow on the jawv. In a second there was a general fight. No one attempted to molest Morrissey, who stood quietly looking on. But his followers fared badly. They were given a thorough thrashing after which their revolvers were taken from them and tossed into the river. After this slight delay the principals were permitted to get down to business. There was no ring, but by general consent the throng had kept a space open for the combat. Poole, in his undershirt, as he had rowed across the river, was ready. It did not take Morrissey long to peel. Throwing off his coat and white shirt, he stood in his red flannel undershirt, as brawny a young bruiser as the most enthusiastic admirer of muscle could desire to see. Poole had a powerful physique and carried himself the more gracefully of the two. Each stood over six feet and weighed close to two hundred pounds. The fight began with some light sparring, Poole holding himself principally on the defensive as his opponent circled about for a chance to close. For about five minutes this child's play of the giants lasted. Then Morrissey made a rush. But Poole was too quick for him. As "Old Smoke" made his lunge "Bill the Butcher" ducked with remarkable agility and seized him by the ankles. In a flash Poole threw his opponent clean over his head and as "Old Smoke" went sprawling he had only time to roll over to his back when Bill pounced on him like a tiger. Then followed terrible minutes of fighting. Clutching each other in grips of steel they butted and pounded their heads and bodies together, tearing at each other's face with their teeth and gouging for the eyes with talon-like fingers. It was sickening to watch, for in no time they were frightfully punished. There was a long gash in Poole's cheeks where the flesh had been torn by his opponent's teeth. The blood was streaming from Morrissey's both eyes. They never changed positions while the struggle went on, for the minute they were down the crowd closed in on them and the surging bodies of the combatants pressed against the feet and legs of the surrounding onlookers. The wonder is that the two on the ground were saved from being trampled to death. Not a hand was raised to interfere with or favor either contestant during the [78] SINS OF NEW YORK two or three minutes this inhuman struggle lasted. But Morrissey was underneath and was doomed to defeat. And soon his voice was heard, hoarse, breathless and suffocating with blood. "I'm satisfied," he gasped. "I'm done." A cheer went from the crowd and the shout rang out and repeated till it swelled into a roar that carried through the streets half a mile away: "Poole's won! Poole's won!" That was the end of the great fight between John Morrissey and Bill Poole, but not of the day's excitement, nor of many more days of turbulence. A number of outsiders had drifted by to see the battle. They had reason to wish they had stayed away before the pugnaciously inclined Poolc minions wcrc through celebrating. An attack was started on Morrissey as he started to depart from the scene of his defeat and but for a few brave friends and the aid of some fair-minded ones among the enemy he would have been carried off bodily to Lord knows what fate. He finally got safely away to the Bella Union saloon on Leonard Street, of which he was part owner. Within less than an hour after the crowds had cleared from the Amos Street dock "Smut" Ackerman, in trying to illustrate how his friend Poole had thrown Morrissey, slipped and suffered a fatal fracture of his skull in the fall. As the dying man was being taken in a cart to the New York Hospital, then at the corner of Broadway and Anthony Street, they drove by the Bella Union saloon. The street was jammed with friends of Morrissey all hot with rage against any one who had concern with the man who had worsted their champion, and soon the cart and dying man were hemmed in by this threatening crowd. Directly opposite the Morrissey saloon was the Fifth Precinct station-house. As the infuriated Morrissey men closed in on their prey the door of the station-house opened and the knights of the club made a sally. Beating back the mob they escorted the cart to the hospital. That same afternoon Ackerman died in the arms that had beaten Morrissey into submission. Ackerman was not even in his grave before the two factions were fighting again. The Bowery Boys and the Short Boys, who supported Morrissey, had it in for Allen for the part he had played in Poole's victory. "Paugene" McLaughlin soon after ran into Allen and challenged him to a fight on the New York Hospital grounds. At that time, though the gates to the hospital park were padlocked, there were many who had keys that fitted the lock and it was a common [I79] SINS OF NEW YORK practice to fight out differences there. "Paugene," however, was so "spoiling for a fight" that he smashed Allen in the jaw on the way and there was scrimmaging all over the street. "Paugene" had enough for the time being, but Harry O'Donnell, who had fired a pistol at Allen during the scrimmage, was challenged to battle on the Harrison Street wharf on the following night. The gangs rowed down to the wharf, for this was in the era before street-cars roamed this district. O'Donnell, though he boasted some reputation as a professional pugilist, was well handled by Allen and wound up by being thrown into the water. The evening was topped off with a general fight in which knives, slung-shots and brass knuckles were brought into play. This succession of defeats had the Morrissey men thoroughly aroused and greedy for revenge. A few nights later Allen and two friends were trapped in Brady's Hall, at Bayard Street and the Bowery, which was close to the headquarters of the Bowery Boys, which was at No. 40. In the desperate fight for life of the Poole trio two policemen, Rogers and Sullivan, were so terribly beaten that the latter died soon after. Allen was taken away insensible to the Star Hotel, Frankfort and Williams Streets; his eyes had been gouged from their sockets and hung out on his cheeks. A skillful operation restored them to place; he lay in bed several weeks stone blind. The first day he was permitted out by his physician, he hunted up Bob Linn, who had been the ringleader of the attack against him. Linn was found at supper in Spring Street and almost brained with a vinegar cruet. And the following morning Allen lent a hand with the sandboys-all Poole followers-in an attempt at revenge against a crusty mail-agent named Peck. The sandboys were in the habit of loading their carts from the hills of sand left by the sloops and schooners before daybreak each morning. There was so little room between the dock and the railroad-track that the carts would be backed up against the sand piles and the forelegs of the horses would be on the tracks. Peck was in the habit of speeding down in the mail-car without warning and smashing over carts and horses. The mail-car was stoned this morning and in response to pistolshots from the car window by Peck, Allen procured an ancient blunderbuss loaded with nails, which was possessed by one of the sand-schooner captains, and blazed away at the mail-car. For this, three days later, Allen was arrested and taken before Judge Davidson in the Jefferson Market Court. Poole accompanied him to go on his bond. [8o0] SINS OF NEW YORK Morris Underhill, a court officer and friend of Morrissey's, got into words with Poole and soon the two were fighting wildly right there in the courtroom and Underhill lost the use of one of his eyes. Poole, however, was never to have to answer for this disrespect to the court. He was to suffer his death wound a few days later. But first he was to have the pleasure of one more good rough-and-tumblefight. A night or so after the court fracas Charley Lozier, who was in the butcher business in Barrow Street, held his annual "Slaughter House Ball." Lozier had his slaughter house cleaned out specially for the event and here the followers of the THE NATIONAL POLICE GAZETITE8 SPORTINO GALLERY m1r A&LI. T Im*AMOtm POrICIA. OA tu. mAD Arlo ro oP f 'T=1tOa OP " L Ma"rrl Fro ZTOD1V oF Ma ADVVIoTUDO LUr @U 0&,OE 7 Poole aggregation and their good ladies, danced and drank and a grand time was had by all. During the festivities Poole and Bill Travers got into an argument as to their respective manhandling abilities, and though they were of the same political faction, nothing remained but that this matter must be settled once and for all and in the usual way. So at 5 A.M., when the ball broke up, all adjourned to the blue-stone yard a step away and the two Bills went to it. In no time the two were struggling on the ground, which was strewn with chips of stone that cut through their clothing [81] .......... I I '~ \~ ee mamma THE CHICAGO CRAZE EVERY GARIDEN CITY BELLE WANTS TO HAVE HER HAIR CUT LIKE A LITTLE MANS f 82] SINS OF NEW YORK and gashed into their skin. The friends of the combatants perched on the mounds of stone and made a living wall about the two and cheered impartially as they battled away in the gray of the dawning day. When Travers finally agreed he had enough he was in need of one new eye, and Poole, who was well damaged himself', assured his opponent that never before had he enjoyed such a fine struggle for his honors. Which was well, for in less than forty-eight hours the Tammany thugs got him. We will let "#The" Allen tell how. Bill Poole met death on the night of February 24, 1855. A little after io o'clock that evening Charley Lozier, Cy Shay, Jimmy Acker and myself [Allen] dropped into Stanwix Hall, which had been newly opened opposite the Metropolitan Hotel, then regarded as the finest of the two hemispheres, and where on that particular day William Makepeace Thackeray was quartered after delivering his delighiful lecture on the Four Georges. The Stanwix, with its glistening mahogany and cut glass, was one of the handsomest liquor stores and bars in the city. There was a yard in the rear giving access to Mercer Street, and which in warm weather was to be used by Charley, Dean, the proprietor, as a summer garden. There were several parties in the barroom, including Mark Maguire, who was known as "king of the newsboys." He was said to be in control of five hundred newsies, and boasted that among his customers were or had been, Andrew Jackson, Henry Clay and Daniel Webster. Poole did not like him, for some reason or other, and invited everybody to have a drink with the exception of Maguire. Mark resented this and said if he was as big as Poole he would show him what he thought of him. Poole took a bread-knife from behind the counter and tossed it to Maguire with the remark that the two were now equal, as he was unarmed, and he exposed his pockets in proof of this claim. Chris Hogan, of the detective force, came between the two to smooth out the trouble. At this 'juncture the door opened and in came Morrissey with several of his friends. Morrissey immediately walked over to Poole and began pouring out a torrent of abuse, to which Bill responded by stripping off his coat. Morrissey tore off his collar and ejaculated a remark, that while pointless, was equivalent on his part to saying that he was primed to do bodily injury. SINS OF NEW YORK man in cold blood. The truth is, Poole was unarmed and the coolness of the unarmed man only made Morrissey wilder than ever and he hurled his own pistol to the floor and begged some one to loan him another. Then the police, led by Captain Charles Turnbull, arrived and Morrissey was placed under arrest, while Poole and I escaped by the back way into Mercer Street. Chris Hogan tried to stop Bill, but I yanked the detective aside by his tie and Poole got away. He went right to the Eighth Precinct station-house, where Morrissey had been taken, and gave himself up. There were no charges, so the foemen were not held. Before releasing them, however, Captain Turnbull exacted a promise from Morrissey that he would not come above Canal Street again that night. Morrissey is understood to have gone down to Lyng's sporting headquarters at Canal Street and Broadway, where he remained until he went home to his newly married wife. Poole and the rest of us went back to Stanwix Hall, as Bill insisted on making his apologies to Charley Dean. We stayed there drinking and talking until some time after midnight. The saloon was supposed to be closed and the curtains were all down. Poole had just announced that it was time for him to go home when the front door opened. In walked Lew Baker, "Paugene" McLaughlin, Dad Cunningham and several others of the Morrissey bunch. Among the party was Jim Turner, who had just come back from California, having been run out of San Francisco by the Vigilantes. "Paugene" was the last to enter, and as he came in he turned the key in the lock and made the door fast. Every soul present knew there was to be bloodshed. Poole leaned coolly against the bar and watched "Paugene" drop the door key into his pocket. "Paugene" returned the glare and asked: "What are you looking at, you black-muzzled bastard?" "At you," was the reply. "Well, you're looking at a better man than yourself when you take a look into the glass. So you're the American fighter? Why, Morrissey can lick you on sight." As he said this "Paugene" leaped at Poole, seized him by the lapel of his coat and spat in Bill's face. At the same time there was a general drawing of revolvers among McLaughlin's followers. Poole calmly shook his insulter off and offered to bet $500. that he could lick any of the party fairly, and he drew five golden eagles and slapped them on the bar. Turner, who had been fidgeting about nervously, yelled"Oh, hell! Let's sail in." And with that he pulled aside his heavy cloak and drawing a long-barreled "taranta" pistol of the type then in use by the Mexicans and the miners, leveled it over his arm at Poole. As he pulled the trigger some one josdled him and the ball ploughed through his own arm. [84] SINS OF NEW YORK That was the signal for a general fusillade, and also for a general scamper. Unable to get out, those who had no stomach for the deadly sport took refuge behind counters and stools. One chap, George Deagle, actually walked into a pier mirror, supposing it in his terror to be an open door. One of the shots had taken effect in Poole's leg. He clinched "Paugene" and as they struggled toward the door another bullet hit Bill in the shoulder and he dropped across the door, which some one had forced open by now. Lew Baker made a rush for the prostrate man, bounded upon him, and with his knee pressing into Bill's chest and before his friends could get to him, he placed the pistol against Poole's body and fired twice. One bullet lodged in the heart and the other in the abdomen. There was scarcely a second's interval between the two reports. The sharp barking of the revolvers, the jangle of broken glass, the oaths, blows and cries suddenly ceased. Then, as Poole's friends sprang for the assassin, Baker jumped to his feet and dashed thr(ugh the open door. He would never have escaped then had it not been for Turner. Directly after that personage had injured himself he dropped down and, hugging the floor during the shooting, he had dragged himself toward the door. He was close to the exit when Baker fired his last shot and leaped away over him. Lozier, Shay and several others of us tripped over Turner and were still mixed up on the floor when the police came surging in. Poole was alive, but insensible. The ambulance was sent for as he lay there breathing in short gasps. In the wrecked saloon, filled with smoke that hung over it like a gray pall, he was cared for by his anxious friends till the ambulance arrived. The dawn was brightening in the east as his body was borne away through the city streets on his last ride in life. The entire police force was set to work to capture Baker. He concealed himself in Lyng's saloon until the following night, from where he was smuggled through the scuttle and over the roofs to the Apollo Hall Assembly Rooms and then out of the cellar into a coach that had been provided for the purpose and was driven to Jack Wildey's place on Broome Street. It was from here he shipped aboard the brig Isabella Jewett as a common sailor. This vessel was already cleared for the Canary Islands and the next day, March i o, sailed. Five days later the secret of Baker's flight was divulged. George Law thereupon placed his speedy clipper yacht Grapeshot at the disposal of the authorities and she was dispatched with a strong crew and a number of officers aboard. The Grapeshot made Teneriffe two hours before the Isabella Jewett made that port. There were no extradition laws in those days and the Portuguese minister in Washington had already refused [85] SINS OF NEW YORK to give up Baker, should he come ashore in Teneriffe. So the Isabella Jewett was boarded on the high seas and Baker was placed under arrest and removed from the brig, to the indignation of her captain. Baker was brought back to New York and was indicted along with Turner, McLaughlin, Morrissey and others. After three trials, each of which resulted in a jury disagreement, the authorities abandoned the prosecution and no punishment was meted out by the law. In the meanwhile Poole lingered for two weeks before the end came. He had been rem-oved to his home and examination showed that, while the heart had not been reached by the bullet, the pericardium had been pierced and there was no pos.sibility of saving the victim's life, as it was impossible to reach the bullet. Poole recovered consciousness and made a statement that his death was due to an organized plot of Morrissey. Further, he swore that he had been unarmed on the night he had been shot. His recuperation was only temporary and on the fourteenth day the physician in attendance announced the last hour was at hand. Poole heard the announcement with a placid face, looked up at Hyer, who had been constantly at his bedside, then drew his last breath and managed to gasp: "(I4 die a true American!") In the meanwhile New York existed in a condition of excitement no words can adequately describe. The entire affair was fraught with a significance that was political as well as personal. It would have been worth the life of any person even suspected of being remotely connected with the Morrissey faction to come anywhere close to the district of the home on Christopher Street near West where Poole lay dying. The vicinity had taken on the appearance of a camp. A steady line of vehicles poured through the street depositing their freight of anxious inquirers at tht Poole door. Not alone the comfortable equipage of the sport, but the wagons and carts of the venders and butchers halted long enough for the latest bulletin. Many strangers from out of town traveled to Christopher Street before seeking their hotel. thirMreortrs.I..A onhnXa n ih.BT-ter- asnosriu otbek nil SINS OF NEW YORK The sidewalks all along the route of the funeral procession were jammed, and every housetop and window was clustered. The very trees, awnings and projecting signs were seized on as points of vantage and the air was alive with the great roar of the multitude. Opposite the dead man's residence was a carpenter-shop owned by a man named Onderdonk. It was a sturdy two-story frame building with a stairway on the outside giving access to the upper floor. The spectators packed this stairway as one solid mass and every inch of roof space was also taken up. The structure began to creak ominously, then the roof and stairway gave way, and the people and the timbers fell together in one common wreck. Four people were killed and thirty injured. To add to the excitement, the firebells were set ringing and several companies were called to the scene of the casualty. It was amid this turmoil that the funeral cortege got under way. It was headed by a detail of several hundred of the old police force. The van of the procession was led by the Poole Association, 2,000 strong. Then came deputations from the Order of the United Americans from various cities forming a body twice as great. The famous Shiffler Hose of Philadelphia followed with about I,ooo members, and then came various local and visiting fire companies headed by the Red Rovers, Engine No. 34, of which Poole had been a member. Deputations of the volunteer fire companies had traveled hundreds of miles to do the occasion honor, the Mash Markey Hose coming from Baltimore, and Boston also being represented. Then came thousands of citizens in advance of the hearse in which the casket rested under the stars and stripes and which was guarded by two companies named in the dead man's honor as the Poole Guards, and the Poole Light Guards, captained respectively by Captain Jim Bannon and myself. The course lay through Christopher and Bleecker Streets on to Broadway and every foot of the way had to be cleared as the cortege slowly made its way downtown. At Grand Street, a body of five hundred men in the familiar attire of working butchers knelt with their heads uncovered as the procession passed. They fell in behind and accompanied the march to the ferry. The funeral and its immediate escort crossed to Brooklyn and continued on to Greenwood Cemetery. There, after most impressive ceremonies, Bill Poole was committed to that last long rest which comes to busy and troubled lives'such as the like of his as well as to those of less troubled men. After the ceremony the procession broke up into parties and returned to New York by various routes. The Poole and the Light Guards marched together and reached Broadway and Canal Street late in the afternoon, where the New York and New Haven Railroad depot then occupied one corner. Opposite the depot a house was being torn down and work had been stopped in consequence of the parade. Behind the brick and timber [87] SINS OF NEW YORK THEY COULD TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES. A PARTY OF OAT GIRLS OP NEW YORK BOHEMIAN CIRCLES DECLARE THEIR INDEPENDENCE BY DISPENSING WITH MALE ESCORTS DURING 7JLB MASQUERADE BALL SEASON, AND NJOT A PERIOD OP PLEASURE UNADULTERATED BY MASCULINE RESTRAINT. barricades made by the wreck and that lined the gutter a strong party of Morrissey followers had ambuscaded themselves. They consisted of members of the 36th Engine, known as the Original Hounds, reinforced by a gang of Buttenders and Short Boys, led by Larry Aiken and Dan Linn. As the Poole volunteers came within range a volley of stones and bricks darkened the air. Another and another followed. The attack was [88] SINS OF NEW YORK so sudden and unforeseen that the spectators who were gathered in the street watching the parade had no time to get out of the way and a woman on the other side of the street was killed, while a number of men and women were badly wounded. Five of the Poole Guard were included in the list of the injured. They were not long in recovering their order and Canal Street soon became the scene of a pitched battle. The howls of the ruffians and the cheers and shouts of the volunteers made a ringing chorus, through which was heard the sharp crack of pistols, the crash of stones smashing windows and doors, and the shrill screams of the wounded. The fight continued for an hour, when the Morrissey men, having used up pretty much all of their barricades for missiles, were left without cover and the Poole Guards proceeded to charge them with their bayonets. The Morrisseyites had no stomach for cold steel and they scattered just as the Seventh Regiment, which had its armory in National Hall over the depot, and which had been called out to suppress the riot, appeared upon the scene. The assailing party had a number of its members disabled and two lay dead. The Poole Guards marched off to the Village, bearing their wounded with them. That night the Hounds were gathered around the stove in their enginehouse discussing the events of the day, wNhen a menacing murmur fell upon their ears. In a moment more there came a crash which shook the building and split the doors. Another and another followed until the doors fell open. Then, dropping the beam that had been used as a battering-ram, the besiegers poured in upon their demoralized foes. The assailants were the Poole Guards which had come down bent on vengeance. Separated into a number of detachments to prevent the suspicion which would have been roused by the passage of such a large party as their combined one through the streets, they had come together undiscovered at the portals of the enemies' stronghold, which they lost no time in storming. When they got through there was nothing left of the engine-house but four blackened and smoking walls. The Hounds narrowly escaped with their lives. After which the Poole legion returned to the village and celebrated long into the night. Bill Poole's burial had certainly been a grand and exciting occasion. "The" Allen's story was not exaggerated in the least, as reference to the old newspaper files readily verifies. His was a true picture of New York and of politics in the Fervid and Frantic SINS OF NEW YORK and he became the owner of many prosperous and luxurious gambling houses in New York and branching out to Saratoga; in time he was a Tammany Hall leader and climbed to the Legislature and to Congress. Some historians have endeavored to make Morrissey out a heroic figure of the prize-ring and an admirable one in other ways. But the Gazette estimate finds him "a bold man, a strong and courageous man, also a shrewd one in a bluff and rugged fashion. Luck played him well in his career until his downfall started with the overthrow of the Tweed ring. Luck played an important part in his ring eminence. He was by far the worst punished of the two when his fight with Yankee Sullivan broke up and he was ruled the victor. Tom Hyer would almost surely have bested him in a square fight; they were matched once and Morrissey forfeited his appearance money, and after another meeting was agreed upon the Hyer's following was so greatly outnumbered by the armed Morrissey gang that the match fell through. When he did fight Heenan, the latter had the misfortune to injure his hand against a ring post. Morrissey declined a subsequent challenge and retired from the ring thus forfeiting the title to Heenan." So Morrissey lived and prospered long after his enemy, Bill Poole, was cold in his grave. [90] THE MANSION BUILT ON BABY SKULLS Why Madame Restell Added Her Own Life to the Many She Had Taken ON the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifty-second Street, during the Seventies, there stood a dignified residence that commanded unusual attention. "Upon 'most any day that was inviting to the outdoors, a grim-visaged, but elegantly dressed woman might be seen making her way down the high front stoop with a stride that was firm, for all her advancing years and a bearing that flaunted a callous defiance. At the walk waited a glittering equipage and a prancing pair of horses ready to join fashionable Gotham on wheels. A liveried coachman held open the door of the carriage to bow his mistress into the interior. No sooner had he resumed his seat and the reins and started the afternoon drive, with the first roll of the wheels, around the corner there came scurrying a band of unkempt street urchins, who only turned on their heels sufficiently long to chorus in derision: " 'Yah! Your house is built on babies' skulls!' " For a way these ill-mannered boys would chase after the carriage the while they kept up their offensive yelling. There was no change of expression in that grim-visaged countenance, even while the carriage occupant was within hearing of her tormentors. There was something about the woman that suggested she was utterly adamant to public regard as her shocking vocation would make her seemand she was an abortionist of most unenviable reputation. So, when finally she came to the end of her hardened existence, and with an estate officially inventoried at over $i,000ooo,ooo000, it came as amazing news that "she merely added one more life, that of her own, to the many she had taken, by committing suicide in the bathtub in her palatial home." Madame Restell, or Mrs. Ann Lohman, with whose life and death this chapter deals, carried to her grave secrets that would have wrecked the peace of many a respected household, and that would have affected the names of many of the powerful and widely known of New York and even throughout the entire country. Madame Killer, the Abortionist, as she was long known, was one of the most noted birth control practitioners, so to put it, in all the land for many years. [9' ] 16Tim NATIONAL POLICE GAZETTE:. NEW YORK. MR6MC IL. 3~:~'1 N L I /AG N Is If' p i / -00-~ I' I GOTHAM ON WHEELS. ThIS CAIIIAOg PEOPLE OF TUlE METROPo161A AND -HOW THEY DRIVE FOR EUGIStH WAND PLEAMU3ZAS TOla B31 TEUR QRADWAt, ROUNDXR," OH PAG& & [92] SINS OF NEW YORK It While she saved many fine reputations from disgrace through her handiwork, she made her own name one of the most hated. Anthony Comstock is generally credited with having driven Madame Restcll to do away with herself in 1878. The National Police Gazette, however, which was harrying her with vigor almost as soon as Comstock was permitted his first glimpse of this immoral sphere, puts quite a different motive back of this sensational suicide case. One year after Anthony Comstock opened eyes on a world that he was to find such an offending one, the Gazette of February 21, 1846, printed the following torrid editorial: RESTELL, THE FEMALE ABORTIONIST-The exposures which we have recently made of this base woman's practices, have excited the profound attention of the community; and moved by the deep necessity of providing a punishment adequate to her horrid and unnatural crimes, an association is already in the process of formation, whose intention it is to petition the legislature to make abortion a State Prison offense; and also to take such measures as may lead to the punishment of its practices, and the prevention of any future murders at hand. It is well known that Madame Restell keeps a large number of apartments in her golgotha in Greenwich Street for the accommodation of females in accouchement, and the number that avail themselves of such facilities in a city where licentiousness stalks abroad at midday may be guessed at, but not counted. It is well known that females frequently die in ordinary childbirth. How many, then, who enter her halls of death may be supposed to expire under her execrable butchery? Females are daily, nay, hourly, missing from our midst who never return. Where do they go? What becomes of them? Does funeral bell ever peal a note for their passage? Does funeral train ever leave her door? Do friends ever gather round the melancholy grave? No! An obscure hole in the earth; a consignment to the savage skill of the dissecting knife, or a splash in the cold wave, with the scream of the night blast for a requiem, is the only death service bestowed upon her victims. Witness this, ye shores of Hudson! Witness this, Hoboken beach! We do not wish to speak in parables. There is a mystery yet to be cleared up which sent a thrill of horror and a sensation of profound excitement through the length and breadth of the land! We speak of the unfortunate Mary Rogers. Experience and futile effort have proved that we have heretofore followed a wrong trail. The wretched girl was last seen in the direction of Madame Restell's house. The dreadfully lacerated body at Weehawken Bluff bore the marks of no ordinary violation. The hat found near the spot, the day after the location of the body, was dry though it had rained the night before! These are strange but strong facts, [93] SINS OF NEW YORK and when taken in consideration with the other fact that the recently convicted Madame Costello kept an abortion house in Hoboken at that very time, and was acting as an agent of Restell, it challenges our minds for the most horrible suspicions. Such are these abortionists! Such their deeds, and such their dens of crime! We now ask again, if a community professing to be civilized will any longer tolerate this wholesale murder under their very eyes? Will a city possessing courts and a police, wink at such an atrocious violation of the laws, and if it will, and the demon murderess Restell be too rich to be within the power of the law, will the community, in the last resort, suffer her to go on unrebuked by some sudden application of popular vengeance? We are not now demanding justice upon the perpetratress of a single THE FEMALE ABORTIONIST. crime, but upon one who might be drowned in the blood of her victims, did each but yield a drop, whose epitaph should be a curse, and whose tomb a pyramid of skulls. This was infammatory stuff to be printed in a paper of the already considerable circulation owned by the Gazette. But before setting forth what followed the publication of this editorial, which sounds as though it might have been phrased by a William Jennings Bryan, it would be well first to give some attention to the inference that the Restell woman may have been in some way connected with the death of Mary Rogers, "the beautiful cigar girl," a case that goes down in the history of crime as one of the greatest of the unsolved death mysteries. [94] SINS OF NEW YORK Less than four years previous to the appearance of the above editorial the city of New York knew no other topic of conversation than the assassination of Mary Rogers, whose beauty back of the cigar counter of John Anderson, wellknown snuff manufacturer, played havoc with many masculine hearts and made her the bright attraction of the store at 319 Broadway. She lived with her mother, who kept a boarding-house at 126 Nassau Street. Sunday morning, July 25, I842, she knocked at the door of one of the young lodgers, Daniel Payn, to whom she was engaged to be married. She told Payn she was going to the house of her aunt and requested that he call for her that evening if she had not returned home by supper-time. She never crossed the threshold in life again. The following Wednesday her murdered body was found on the shore of Weehawken Heights. "The annals of crime are gorged with mysteries. The red band of murder has set its mark on many of its pages, but left no other sign of its identity. Of all the episodes enshrouded in this somber vagueness, there is none more tantalizing than the case of Mary Cecilia Rogers." Thus wrote the Gazette in review of the mystery when it was again brought to attention through the death of John Anderson, Mary's employer. This was in i88i. The corpse that was buried over in New Jersey after a primitive inquest was not immediately known, according to most versions, to be that of the beautiful cigar girl. But, shortly after, a New York newspaper demanded that the remains be dug up, and the disinterred body was laid out in the dead-house in City Hall Park, New York, and though decomposition had already set in, portions of the attire were positively identified and all doubt was removed that the corpse was that of Mary Rogers. The search for the murderer was next in order. Newspapers started an untiring pursuit of the mystery and the unsatisfactory results worked the public mind to fever-heat. Meetings were held and public and private subscriptions made as rewards for the unveiling of the death secret. Various suspected persons were arrested, yet, as the Gazette, long years after, commented: "In this case murder will not out. The murderer of Mary Rogers never was and never will be definitely known. His crime is buried forever in the grave in which its victim long ago mouldered to dust, so thoroughly forgotten that to-day no one knows where she is buried." Mary Rogers did not go to the home of the relative toward which she was supposed to have been headed the Sunday she left her abode. She was last seen [95] SINS OF NEW YORK FIFTH AVENUE BELLES ACTING AS STREET-SWEEPERS. TWO WZALTHY GIRLS, TO SHOW THEIR SYMPATHY FOR THE TAXPAYERS, SWEEP THE STREET IN PRCNT OP THEIR RRSIDEINC-OLS OP THE RESULTS OP THE STREET-CLEANING AGITATION IN HEW YORK. in New York in the company of an unknown young man in the vicinity of Barclay Street not far from the Restell dwelling on Greenwich Street, but she was presumably walking toward the Hoboken ferry. Her companion was supposed to have been a young naval officer, who was among her legion of admirers. But some[96] SINS OF NEW Y IRK how his identity remained ever somewhat vague, for all his undoubted importance in this puzzling tragedy. Of the various suspects there was none on whom the crime was ever fastened, and few death mysteries have ever been kept so lon~g alive. No sooner had interest commenced to flag than something happened to give it a fresh start. Some boys roaming close to where the body had been found discovered in a thicket a white petticoat, parasol, silk scarf, gloves and a handkerchief on which, for all the discoloration and rot of mildew, the initials of Mary Rogers worked in silk thread were still legible. Some months later, and to further add to the mystery, young Payn, who had been her betrothed, contributed no small share. After the death of Mary he had taken to dissipation and seemed obsessed by a settled melancholy. He drank hard and deep and one day he staggered out of a saloon and was seen no more until his dead body was found in the thicket where the relics of his dead sweetheart had been found. There was an empty laudanum bottle by his side and in his pocket a letter which read: "Here I am on the very spot. God forgive me for my misspent life." And then came two other incidents shortly after and almost at the same time that further helped to sustain interest. Edgar Allan Poe, who had written an amazing mystery story, "The Gold Bug," which in the year 1843 had won the $ioo. prize offered by The Dollar Newspaper of Philadelphia, wrote a short story which purported to be the solution of the murder, and which was entitled, "The Mystery of Marie Roget." In this Poe paraphrased the events of the Mary Rogers tragedy, only giving the actors different names and locating the crime in Paris instead of New York. His theory was that there had been an indiscreet intimacy with her mysterious sailor lover which had resulted in her pregnancy, and finally her murder. It is in order to insert here, there is a standing Gazette tradition that Poe, some time between 1846 and 1849, the year of his death, had been temporarily on the staff of this journal. How much actual foundation there is to this tradition remains a question. The same year that the National Police Gazette came into existence, the firm of Wiley & Putnam, i6I Broadway, brought out the first edition of a book, "Tales by Edgar A. Poe." It included "The Gold Bug," yet the book did not enjoy much in the way of success, though its author was, too late for his satisfaction, to be accepted as a genius. More attention was attracted to the author by his [97] SINS OF NEW YORK poem, "The Raven," which saw print in 1845, the year the Gazette came into existence. That year Poe was for a time the assistant editor of the Broadway Journal, a weekly paper published in New York, but he did not prosper in the connection. In fact, the closing years of Poe's life were such a discouraging struggle for existence that it is easily possible that he may have been pressed to do some hackwork for such a successful weekly as was then the young and robust Gazette. If such was the case, Poe never attached his name to any scrivening that he may have been driven to do for Messrs. Wilkes & Camp. Coming back to the other happening that livened interest in the Rogers case, the very month in which the Poe story of the crime was published, over in Weehawken a woman was fatally wounded through the accidental discharge of a gun. The woman was Mrs. Loss, who kept an inn, which was close to the scene where the body of the beautiful cigar girl had been found. Mrs. Loss was the mother of the children who had made the discovery of the Rogers girl's handkerchief and other belongings. She made a deathbed confession that would lead to the assumption that the objects found in the thicket had been specially planted there by herself. According to the dying words of Mrs. Loss, Mary Rogers had come to breathe her last through the performance of a criminal operation. Why no special credence was placed in this confession is something of an enigma, but such seems to have been the case. Yet, it obviously came nearer to the truth than any of the various surmises that were offered instead. It was probably the basis for the Gazette charge that the Rogers girl was a victim of the abortionist, Restell. Just where Madame Restell was involved in the case, as the Gazette hinted, is something beyond answer. The result of the Gazette article, however, is a matter of record. From the issue of February 28, 1846, we cull the following: RESTELL'S CHARNEL HOUSE-Great excitement existed in the vicinity of the house occupied by this wretch, in Greenwich Street, on Monday last, owing to the circulation of a handbill, calling a public assemblage, to induce her to leave the vicinity and abandon her horrible profession. We take the following from the "Morning News," not being present at the period alluded to: ALMOST A MOB-The residence of Madame Restell in Greenwich Street, was beset yesterday afternoon by a vast concourse of people of all classes, many of them, doubtless, drawn thither by curiosity, or a vague idea that something extraordinary was about to be enacted in reference to the notorious woman, and not a few who apparently came with the in[98] SINS OF NEW VYORK tention of being actors in some scene of violence and popular outbreak. There were very many of our most respectable citizens noticed among the mass-a result unlooked for, and certainly ominous of a deep and abiding feeling of abhorrence and detestation among the better classes, for the practices of this miserable female, which may yet prove of fearful import to her, and to those who countenance and support her in the vile and unholy occupation, the known existence of which, in defiance of all laws, and outraging every sense of decency and morality, has been suffered so long to rest, as a foul plague-spot upon our city. We learn that in anticipation of some energetic demonstration in the course of the day, Madame Restell early left her house and secretly repaired to the dwelling of some unknown friend, seeking a shelter, in her fears, in a hiding-place far from the scene of her iniquitous practices. Meanwhile, though the Chief of Police, aided by a strong body of officers, were upon the ground of the disturbance, it seemed as though for some hours the neighborhood was slumbering upon a volcano, which a mere breath would inflame into swift and terrible action. Curses loud and deep upon Restell and her coadjuters were rife amid the crowd, and cries of "Haul her out!" "Where is Mary Applegate's child?" "Wherc's the thousand children murdered in this house?" "Throw her into the dock!" "Hanging is too good for the monster!" "Who murdered Mary Rogers?" and other inflammatory exclamations of a like nature were continually uprising from the excited multitude. Through the whole vicinity, the windows on both sides of the streets were upraised and filled with anxious faces intensely watching the movements of the mass below; and there were not wanting those among the inmates of the neighboring houses, and those inmates too, females of respectability and refinement, who joined in the universal cry for vengeance and retribution. It did indeed seem as though the strong feeling of popular indignation was about to be manifested in an outbreak of serious character, and that the unhappy object of their dislike was about to realize that there is in this land a power above all law, whose mandates would-when the arm of justice became paralyzed and insufficient, and was daringly sneered at by those who depend upon their ill-earned wealth and certain peculiar influences for immunity from the just reward of crime-be suddenly executed in violence and confusion. Owing, however, to the prompt exertions of the energetic Chief of Police, under whose directions one or two arrests were made of the most active spirits among the assembled mass, the threatened disturbance was finally put down, and at this time (late in the evening) order and quiet are restored to the neighborhood. We do not envy the feelings of the wretched woman during the existence of the threatened outbreak, for, although at some distance from the scene, yet, she very well knew what was going forward, being made acquainted at short intervals with the position of affairs. We trust from [99] SINS OF NEW YORK the expression of yesterday, Madame Restell is now convinced of the necessity of immediately closing her unlawful business; otherwise there seems to be a most fearful certainty that the end is not yet. It was the affair of Mary Applegate that brought about this storm of public indignation and which culminated in the Applegate woman being brought before Mayor William F. Havemeyer, in whose presence she made a sworn statement of the following facts: That she was a seamstress residing in Philadelphia, in which city she had been seduced by Augustus Edwards, who had a connection with the offices of the Reading Railroad. That she had been placed in the home of Madame Restell by Edwards, and after a stay there she had been delivered of a living child. That Mrs. Restell took her child from her (Mary Applegate) on the pretense that it was to be sent out to a nurse, and that she (Mary Applegate) had never had sight of her child again. Mrs. Restell had subsequently denied any knowledge of the deponent and insisted that no female had been delivered of a child for several months past in her house. Later Mrs. Restell claimed that she was unable to locate the nurse to whom she had delivered the Applegate infant. In a subsequent affidavit Mary Applegate described some of the things that had come to her attention while an inmate of the Restell house on Greenwich Street. She stated that there were so many women present during her stay that several were placed in the same room and even occupied the same bed "when they were sick." She met there a widow from Albany who was being supported by a married man from the same city, who was president of one of the banks. Another from Philadelphia was having her expenses defrayed by "one of our Congressmen." Another was the daughter of a New York family "in the first circles" who had been brought to the care of Mrs. Restell by her own mother, who had been heard to say she "would rather submit to anything else, than the disgrace." In spite of the furor that was thus aroused, and that the Gazette finally accused Mary Applegate of having accepted a substitute infant in the one that was subsequently restored to her, Madame Restell somehow escaped the meshes of the law for all the exposure and indignation that was aimed her way, and she continued in her peculiar business for more than a quarter of a century longer. There can be no doubt that she had strong influences in high places. When the Gazette was finally forced to admit that Madame Killer was plainly beyond the pale of the law, Messrs. [ ioo ] SINS OF NEW YORK GROOM VERSUS BRIDEGROOM. THE DOMESTIC AMUSKMENTS OP THE YOUNG WIPE OP AN OLD MILLIONAIRE, WHICH GAVE AN ADONIS OP TR I TABLB THE RUN OP THE PARLOR AND PLAYED HOB WITH THE CONFIDINCE AND THE WINK CELLAR OP THI ABSENT LORDS NEW YORK CITT. Wilkes & Camp printed her picture and gave expression to their feelings in no uncertain terms. The public knows the character of Madame Restell, but none know it so well as the corrupt minions in official place who have for years tampered with her crimes and secretly received her gold in exchange for an [ o101 ] SINS OF NEW YORK imtmunity in wholesale bloodshed. For years she has triumphed over the law, defied public indignation, and laughed at the denunciations of the press. Others of her mystery-understrappers and retailers in the work of death-have felt the pinch of power, but she has gone scot-free of any check, and proclaims to the world her readiness to stifle human life at so much per deed. The law has swept every rival from her path, and she remains mistress paramount in a scheme of practical destruction. In the heart of this metropolis she holds her bloody empire. In this city, so vain of its good name, she sits in a spacious den, tricked out in gorgeous finery for the superficial eye, but crowded in its extensive labyrinths with misguided frailty, and teeming with the groans and misery of death. What becomes of the children thus delivered we can readily imagine from the numerous infants, alive and dead, which are sprinkled about our city on stoops and in areas in the course of every week; but there arises at this point a more fearful inquiry: What becomes of the groaning mother if she perchance expire under this execrable butchery? Alas, we have no longer even the consolation of a doubt. The question has been answered in the developments of a public trial... the carcase is thrust uncleansed into a sack, lugged to some secret death-house, and there tumbled out for a medical orgy and the mutilations of the dissectingknife. Thus perishes all trace of the murders of the abortionist. The refuse bones that are scattered on a dung-heap, or the skull that grins from the top of a doctor's cabinet, afford no trace of the blooming cheeks and rounded form of the once beautiful victim of these chartered murderers. We are not led to these remarks with the view of spurring the authorities to bring this woman to justice. That hope is past. Our intention is not to arouse public indignation to her course-for already her name is never mentioned without a curse; but we would warn the misguided females who invoke her aid in the hope to hide their shame, that they had rather consign themselves to the mercy of a fiend and desperately seek their death. For all of which Madame Restell continued in business and waxed prosperous until finally she committed suicide. What prompted her to put an end to her life? The Gazette asks and answers the query. The answer purports to be secret revelations secured by Richard K. Fox from a detective who had been in the Restell employ while she was doing battle with Anthony Comstock, and who kept her apprised of the doings of her enemy, all of which was published in the Gazette shortly after the Restell suicide. According to this account, she professed, with apparent good reason, that she had very little to fear as to the result of her trial on the Comstock charges. It was [102] SINS OF NEW YORK fear, we are led to believe, of a "more serious" charge which impelled her suicide. What was this "more serious" accusation? The implication is, that the answer lay in the fear that certain facts surrounding the death of her second husband, "Dr." Charles R. Lohman, seemed about to be brought to light. Originally, it is explained, Mrs. Restell during her first years in this country following her arrival from England, was actively engaged in dressmaking. She is believed to have already taken up the pursuit that brought her so much money when she contracted the marriage with Lohman. Lohman was in the business of manufacturing quack medicines. Their marriage did not turn out a happy one and they were separated at various times. The two had one fault in common, which was the source of continual disputes-namely, an inordinate greed for money. Though each had acquired money fast, they clung to it as though its possession was all that life was worth living for, and their quarrels over their money affairs, together with a radical incompatibility of temper, had them generally on bad terms except during occasional spells of reconciliation. Lohman, when real estate was very low uptown, had purchased the lots fronting on the east side of Fifth Avenue, between Fifty-second and Fifty-third Streets, and just one block away from where the spires of St. Patrick's Cathedral were to raise their architectural beauty. With the rise in real estate Lohman sold the upper portion of the property, but kept the 125 feet front where the Restell residence and the Osborne flats were subsequently erected. When he built the Restell house he had to raise the sum of $27,000. and executed a mortgage for that amount to the Mutual Life Insurance Company. Mrs. Restell, while on bad terms with her husband, succeeded in buying up the mortgage without his knowledge. For the erection of the Osborne flats she advanced $147,000. in cash to her husband. The two mortgages aggregating a total of $174,000. on properties then valued at $600,000. During one of their periodical reconciliations, when Mrs. Restell's harsh temper toward her husband was softened, he executed a will in her favor, which also included title to a valuable store which he owned in Chambers Street. Soon after, on January 5, 1876, Lohman died. The Gazette tells a curious story concerning that death-bed scene. The "doctor" did not seem particularly ill when he took to his bed. While he had not been feeling right for some time, no grave apprehension was felt concerning his condition. Lohman raised himself in bed and said [Io3] SINS OF NEW YORK to a young man who had been visiting him every day: "Hand me the mcdicine-bottle from the bureau, will you?" The visitor looked around and seeing no bottle, replied: "What bottle? There is none here." "Why, it was there a few minutes ago," the invalid exclaimed. "Who could have taken it?" In a fit of angry impatience he rang the service bell. His wife appeared in answer to the summons, holding a medicine-bottle in her hand, and looking, so the eye-witness stated, strangely excited. "What the devil did you take my medicine for?" Lohman asked impetuously. "Well, I thought the bottle was getting empty," she replied, "and I had better replenish it." He was by no means reconciled with the explanation: "It was more than half full when I had it before and didn't need renewing." "Well, I thought it did," was the reply, and with that she deposited the bottle, which was now nearly full, on the bureau. That very night Lohman died. No clergyman was called in before the removal of the body, which omission could, of course, be attributed to the general isolation of the Restell household from all religious associations. At a very early hour, when the neighborhood was still and but few people were astir in Fifth Avenue and the neighboring street, the coffin was quickly carried through the rear entrance and taken to Tarrytown, where the remains were interred. At the time of her committal Madame Restell seemed strangely distressed, though strong legal advice gave it as the opinion that she would have little difficulty beating the Comstock charges, since the confession he was supposed to have obtained from Restell was had by trickery. But there was also a strong hint of an investigation to ascertain the possibility of there having been foul play in the death of Charles R. Lohman. Grounds for the belief came to light that Lohman had blood relations in Prussia who would have some claim on his estate. There was talk of exhuming his body. Madame Restell thought much less of the sacrifice of life than she did of money. [104] THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ILLICIT LOVE TRAGEDY Murder in the Tribune Office, Death Drama in the Astor House, and Travesty in the Court of Justice "Why talk you of the posey or the value? You swore to me That you would wear it till your hour of death, And that it should lie with you in your grave." NERISSA declaimed the somber beauty of Shakespeare's prose with a voice that had more tenderness in its thrush-like softness than ever before. This night Portia's waiting-maid was not making response to the supplications of her doubleted suitor on the stage. Her heart was in her mouth and her tongue had only message for the lover she knew was watching her eagerly from among the sea of faces that made up the dark background beyond the proscenium arch. Soon the play would be over and the footlights dimmed, and he would be waiting by the narrow alley leading to the stage door of the Winter Garden Theatre. Could she be one and the same with the Abby Sage whose girlhood had been spent in the little Massachusetts mill town of Lowell, and who had been the teacher of a tiny rural school in Manchester, New Hampshire, only ten years ago? Was it no more than a dream that this same Abby Sage now found herself a successful actress filling an engagement at the munificent salary of twenty-five dollars a week and playing in support of no less a stage luminary than the eminent Edwin Booth in "The Merchant of Venice"? And she had written little pieces about children and nature that had not only been published, but paid for; and a book of poems under her signature had already appeared in print. And it would be only a matter of months now before the error of her early marriage would be legally erased and she would be the wife of one who had already taken a place of some importance as a successful man of letters. Maybe it was well that Abby Sage should have her dreams for a little while. She was not far away from stark tragedy-days when her name was to be vilifled through the pitiless publicity of a notorious court case of many weeks' dura[ 0o5] SINS OF NEW YORK tion, that followed in the April, five months after the country had been startled by the sensational murder that happened on Thanksgiving evening, I869, in the offices of the New York Tribune. But we are meeting Abby Sage two and one-half years before her discarded husband fired the death bullet into the body of the man who had taken his place in her affections. On the night of March 13, 1867, of which we are writing, and which was to mark Abby's last appearance on the stage for several years, her lines were fraught with no foreboding significance when the thrush-like softness of her voice murmured of the posies of love, and "That you would wear it till your hour of death, And that it should lie with you in your grave." When Abby Sage, or Mrs. Daniel McFarland, as she then was, kept her tryst with Albert D. Richardson, neither knew that her husband was skulking in the shadows close to the stage door. Three weeks previous she had found the intemperance and cruelty of this man unbearable and had fled with her two children to the home of Samuel Sinclair, publisher of the Tribune, and whose wife had done much to befriend Abby. There, in the presence of the Sinclairs; of her father, who had been summoned to the conference; and also before several other witnesses, Mrs. McFarland told her husband she was through with him forever, and he agreed to abide by her determination. That same evening Richardson, whose friendship with Abby and the Sinclairs shall be gone into later, called at the house. As he was about to leave, Abby followed him to the door, and as they stood alone in the hallway, she murmured with an emotion she could not hide: "You have been very kind to me. I cannot repay you." "How do you feel about facing the world with two babies?" he asked. "It looks hard for a woman, but I am sure I can get on better without that man than with him," was her answer. All the while her hand was still in his. His voice was so low his words were almost a whisper as he said: "I wish you to remember, that any responsibility you choose to give me in any possible future, I shall be glad to take." And he hurried away without even bidding her good-night. Two days later he called on her again and told her he wanted to give his motherless children to her care, and that he wanted to marry her so soon as she was free. She had but one answer to give. "It was absolutely impossible for me not to love him," was later the simple admission in her affidavit. [ io6] SINS OF NEW YORK After this proposal, to pick up the Gazette story in our own words, Richardson departed for Hartford, where he went to complete work on a book he was then writing. He returned to New York on the night of March i and waited to cscort Abby home from the Winter Garden Theatre. As these two under the spell of love moved eagerly toward each other, McFarland came up from behind and fired three shots at Richardson, only one of which took effect and resulted in a slight wound of the hip. (The second attempt on Richardson's life resulted in the fatality.) WOULD-BE VOTERS. A BEVY OF 8TBONG-MINDED AMAZO.N8 ML A SENSATION AT A NEW YOBEK PTOWN POLLLNG PLACE But, notes the Gazette, "this triangle came prominently to the public attention with the first attempt at murder, and when it finally had culmination in death it became exceptional not only for its tragic romance and the fact that it involved so many important personages, such as Horace Greeley, Whitelaw Reid, Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Edwin Booth and Daniel Frohman (then a mere youth), but it involved abnormal religious, political and editorial controversy." Moreover, "women were getting too strong-minded." Already there was much talk of the "Sorosis," the [ 107 SINS OF NEW YORK first women's club to be incorporated in New York, and which came into existence the following year. Incidentally, it is interesting to examine into the somewhat different point of view that the same paper, the National Police Gazette, takes of this same case at different periods. At the time of the happening this publication seemed to be aligned xith those who regarded McFarland as justified in taking the life, through emotional insanity, of the man who had shattered his domestic peace. Fifteen years later, which was in the Fox regime, whether due to a more clarified viewpoint or a change in the trend of thought, the review of the case is more than favorable to the murdered man, and to the woman who had been the indirect cause of his death. The writer even refers to this as "the most beautiful of illicit love tragedies." Let us look at its outstanding figures through the eyes of the Gazette. Albert Deane Richardson, who so manfully gave his life for love, as we shall see, was in the middle thirties at the time of his meeting with Abby, who was seven years his junior. Franklin, Massachusetts, was his birthplace, and he was a teacher in Boston for a while. He formed an early taste for journalism and after various experiences through the Midwest, where he gained some prominence as correspondent for various New York newspapers, he joined the staff of the Tribune. By that paper he was sent into the South as a secret correspondent during the Civil War. He was finally captured by the Confederates and consigned to Libby Prison in Richmond. After a five months' detention there he was removed to Salisbury Prison in North Carolina, from where he succeeded in making his escape in 1864 and traveled four hundred miles on foot until he reached the Union Lines in Knoxville. His story in the Tribune telling how he came "Out of the jaws of death and out of the mouth of hell," was a thrilling one and had prominence, in its time, as one of the outstanding newspaper stories. On his return to New York Richardson made his adventures into a book and this, and one or two other literary ventures, had sales which netted him what was a considerable fortune in those days. With the means thus accumulated he purchased six shares of Tribune stock. He became one of the featured writers on that paper and his accounts of his overland trip for the inauguration of the Pacific Railroad also kept his name in the foreground. So he was a man of no little standing at the time of his first meeting with Abby Sage, which happened in 1866. [ io8] SINS OF NEW YORK And from the first, though a twelvemonth and more went by ere she admitted this to him, he was her ideal of an interesting and romantic personage. What is more, he was a fine figure of a man, tall and straight of carriage and weighing well over two hundred pounds. His ample whiskers of a ginger color and his steady hazel eyes gave him what was then regarded as a distinguished appearance. While incarcerated in Libby Prison, the young lady whom he had married during his sojourn in Cincinnati passed away. Upon his return to his fireside he found his three children motherless. At the time of his death their ages were respectively, thirteen, ten and six. These were the charges he left to the care of Abby Sage. Daniel McFarland, who brought to an end the earthly existence of Richardson, was the senior of his wife by a score of years. As a youth he showed an early promise that his mature years failed to realize. He was close to forty years of age when he took Abby Sage as his bride, and he must have already found himself face to face with the bitter knowledge that he was destined to make a failure out of the ambitions that had stirred him to something in the way of early achievement. Though Abby had no gleaning of this when she plighted her troth, intemperance had already made him something of a weakling, though he still carried himself with egotistic optimism. As a youth he had broken away from an apprenticeship to a harness-maker, scraped together enough money before the attaining of his majority to take a course at Dartmouth College, where he gained his degree of Bachelor of Arts and was an assistant to one of the professors of chemistry. By this professor he was sent abroad, but on his return he took up the study of law in Boston and gained admission to the Bay State Bar, but never practiced. This last fact probably revealed the weak link in his character. He had ambition without the determination to fulfill a purpose. For a short time he was Professor of Logic, Belles Letters and Elocution in Brandywine College, but when Abby became Mrs. McFarland he had been in turn a lecturer and speculator. Through the ten ycars of their married life his undertakings met with one failure after another. At the outset Abby was undoubtedly deeply enamored of her mate. To her he was a man of the world. His pale, sallow features were not uncomely. He dressed and talked well; he probably lied beautifully of himself and his prospects. Anyway, the fortune of between $20,000. or $3o,ooo000. that he claimed before [ 109] SINS OF NEW YORK becoming a benedict quickly evaporated into nothingness with the depreciation of some mysterious land interests, which probably never existed. They knew wretched poverty from the start. Within a few months after making their first home in Madison, Wisconsin, Abby was forced to return to her father's roof and to his charity. All the unfair testimony that was turned loose against Mrs. McFarland when her character was so bitterly assailed in the trial following the death of Richardson, did not disturb the truth, that she had been a loving, true and encouraging helpmate through those early years of disillusionment. They were forced to set up makeshift homes in New York, Brooklyn, Newark and Croton, establishing a second residence in Madison on the very day Fort Sumter was fired on. Three children came to them during those early years of marriage, the first-born dying within a few months. Time and again her father was forced to save her from starvation. When her second child, Percy, was born the physician's bill was paid through her earnings out of the proceeds of a public reading that she had given in iS6o, when she had already shown some early talent as an elocutionist. But very little of this, or other facts that might have shown the husband in his true light, was permitted to come out in the McFarland trial, or if it was, then it was always distorted in his favor. In particular, little or nothing was given out of the facts that he owed his desk in the Provost Marshal's office, and later in the office of the City Assessor, to the help of Mrs. Calhoun, of the Tribune, and Mrs. Sinclair, whose friendships had been so valuable to Abby. Later McFarland publicly charged through his lawyers that these women were "the procuresses through whom his wife's affections had been alienated to the keeping of her lover." But let us now turn our attention to the woman in the case. We find some differences in the descriptions of her appearance that make up the pen pictures that have been handed down by various writers. At least they all agree that she had grace and beauty and charm of person, which is something that can be readily accepted, since she was given her engagement by Booth even on her limited stage experience, which had been had through her several public readings, though she prepared for this work under the schooling of Mr. and Mrs. George Vanderhoof. This schooling was at the instigation of McFarland, though in his trial he had it made out that he had always been able to support his wife and had therefore discouraged her dramatic ventures from the first. [ iino] SINS OF NEW YORK As to her appearance, I like best the Gazette estimate, which pictures her as molded into a slender elegance. With hair of a dark brown hue through which glinted fleeting glimpses of strands that had grayed soon after life had brought its severest ordeal-the dying whisper of the man she had learned to love, who had murmured to her when he knew the end was near: "Sweetheart. Yours was a love worth living for. Even more, it is a love worth dying for." And he must have loved her eyes, for the velvet brown of their luster was set off by dark lashes that gave a regal arch to her brow. Though the inflexibility of her Puritan stock was strongly in evidence, yet there was somehow a hint of the fires of a personality. To her lover she must have been even more of a breathing, throbbing loveliness than she appeared back of the footlights, where her work seemed to be marked more by preciseness and comeliness than inspiration. Her literary efforts were a fair example of the innocuous stuff that then went into the reading that was prepared for small children. Her first book, which was brought out by the Houghtons was no doubt inspired and written out of love of her second child and was a collection of poems under the title of "Percy's Year of Rhymes." It is said to have returned her several hundred dollars. Her most ambitious effort was published by the American Publishing Company, of Hartford, and was entitled "Pebbles and Sunshine." Richardson had some hand in its acceptance. A number of selections from this work appeared in the Gazette shortly after McFarland's crime. Though it may react against your sympathies for Abby Sage, all the evidence will not be in unless we inflict just one example of her muse. You will note that she rhymes "drest" with "priest." Notwithstanding, Richardson thought well of the effusion, which was not the worst of those reproduced by the Gazette, and he encouraged her ambitions to write. Possibly, you will not doubt after reading this, that the man was very much in love. LITTLE DAN Little Dan has eyes of radiant blue, And hair of a wonderful golden hueThe roundest, merriest, baby face, And movements of the airiest grace. He's full of the oddest pranksOf merry jests, and quips and cranks[ III ] ...... ~4 -z-7 -00.4 30 PC Pi 'I IF 40_ SINS OF NEW YORK Now, he's a baby, and now a grown man, And acts his parts as a mimic can. Sometimes, he puts on a princely airTosses back his flowing golden hairAssumes a look of regal pride, And orders his carriage to take a ride. Anon, he's a jolly beggar boyKicks little bare feet with shouts of joyScof/s at sorrow and turns up his nose, If you tell him "Earth is a vale of wtoes." Again, he will play a tragic partWill tell a tale to break one's heartAnd before the tears are fairly dried, The wag will forget he has ever cried. At night, in his flowing night-gown drest, He turns to a little white-robed priest. As he says with a wondrous, solemn air, In his lisping way, an infant prayer. Oh, a wonderful mimic is little Dan, And he plays as only an actor can. And you'll scarcely believe it when you're told, Our darling is just only three years old. Mrs. L. G. Calhoun, who wrote an interesting column on social and other doings for the Tribune and whose kindnesses were so misrepresented during the murder trial, first interested herself in the future of Abby, while the young wife had her home for a short time in Newark. She brought her to the attention of Mrs. John F. Cleveland (a sister of Mr. Greeley) and Mrs. Sinclair, who also became exceedingly fond of Abby. Through their assistance she gave several dramatic readings in Steinway Hall, which never netted less than one hundred dollars, since Mrs. Sinclair disposed of tickets among her numerous friends. She had her husband use his influence with Horace Greeley, through whose intercessions McFarland gained his city appointments. It was Mrs. Calhoun, and not Richardson, as was made out, who secured for Abby her engagement with Booth. Five years after their marriage, in 1862, McFarland, in one of his drunken ["I31 SINS OF NEW YORK rages, which were now more than periodical, turned on Abby suddenly as she tried to soothe him and struck her in the face, sending her reeling backward. "There was a look in her eyes that made him burst into a paroxysm of tears and to beg wildly that she should forgive him." "But fromn that moment," she said, "I could never tell him that I loved him or forgave him, because it would not have been the truth." Four years after this incident came the first meeting with Richardson, who, as can be readily understood, moved in the circle with Mrs. Calhoun and the Sinclairs. In January, 1867, the McFarlands rented rooms from Mrs. Mason at 72 Ami~ty Street. One month later Richardson moved from 61, on the same street, and was not only under the same roof with Abby, but had the rooms adjoining hers. Needless to say, much was made of this point in the trial, though an explanation of how this came about was brought out to the annoyance of McFarland's lawyers. It seems that Richardson was first shown a single room on another floor, but this was objectional to the would-be tenant for the reason that he would use it in part for his office and for his writing and that ladies would call and "it would be indelicate to receive them in a room where there was a bed." Which brought the comment from McFarland's lawyer: "Imagine a butcher ashamed of blood." Anyway Mrs. Mason effected the transfer of tenants that enabled Richardson to have the two rooms beside the McFarlands. The two, Abby and Richardson, were often seen in each other's rooms. This was naturally brought out very strongly during the trial and while any sort of con.. struction can be placed upon the extent of their intimacy, for all that was brought to light in court, they must at least be credited with having been discreet. William D. Norris, a Negro servant, was examined and the following dialogue took place between the lawyer and the witness: Lawyer: "You know what liberty is-now. Did you ever see Richardson take liberties with Mrs. McFarland?" Norris: "Yas, sah, I did. I've seen them shake hands together." SINS OF NEW YOIRK drink so deeply of sorrow. There were many ready to believe the worst-naturally, the Gazette included. A letter in Richardson's handwriting that had been intercepted was read in court and was thought to give strong evidence of their intimacy. The envelope bore the postmark "Hartford, Conn. March 9, 1867." It was addressed to Mrs. A. S. McFarland, care of Samuel Sinclair, Esq., Tribune Office, New York City, and had been inadvertently turned over to Daniel McFarland. On the back it was sealed with red wax on which were stamped the letters "D.A.R." The letter read: What a goosie it is about my coming home. Of course, I shall come, whenever my business compells or will let me. What judgment shall you fear, doing no wrong? The circumstances make it right and unnoticeable, and I will not stay away for 40,000 Mrs. Grundics. I will not neglect work to come; but it is quite possible I may have to come next week. I have not been waiting for you, darling, all these long years to wear haircloth and serve seven years now; I want you always. A hundred times a day my arms seem to stretch out toward you. I never seek my pillow without wanting to fold you to my heart, for a good-night kiss and blessing, and the few months before you can openly be mine will be long enough at best. No grass shall grow under my feet, but I never let public opinion bully me a bit, and never mean to; so, Sunbeam, I shall come whenever I can and stay as long as business will permit. I will decide about the summer just as soon as I can, darling; can probably surmise by Monday or Tuesday. Darling, I should be afraid if you had fascinated me in a day or a week. The trees which grow in an hour have no deep root. Ours I believe to be no love of a noonday hour, but for all time. Only one love ever grew so slowly into my heart as yours has, and that was so tender and blessed that heaven needed and took it. My darling, you are all I would have you, exactly what I would have you, in mind, body and estate, and my tired heart finds in you infinite rest, and riches, and sweetness. Good-night my love, my own, my wife. Burn this-will you not? Less than three weeks before the above letter was written-February 19, was the date-McFarland found his wife in conversation with Richardson before her own door. As soon as he was alone in the room with Abby he made all manner of charges against her. The next day she left McFarland and was taken in by the Sinclairs. After the first attempt on Richardson's life, arrangements were planned for Abby's divorce. On October 31, 1869, she returned from Indianapolis to the [ II 5] SINS OF NEW YORK home of her parents a free woman. There Richardson spent Thanksgiving Day. He returned to New York and to his death. At five o'clock on the afternoon of November 25, 1869, Daniel McFarland came into what was known as the counting-room of the Tribune from the Park Row entrance and lingered in a corner without attracting attention. On the testimony of Daniel Frohman and others who were employed in the office, McFarland had a wait of fully fifteen minutes before the object of his vengeance appeared. Yet his act was made out as an unpremeditated one. Richardson entered from Spruce Street and walking to a desk at the end of the counter asked for his mail. Several letters were passed over to him and as he started to examine them a figure sprang toward him; not until then was Richardson aware of the presence of McFarland. There was only time for an exchange of glances. The room echoed to the detonation of a pistol. For a moment Richardson clutched at the edge of the counter, then he staggered off and on wavering legs he climbed two flights to the editorial rooms, where he threw himself on a sofa. He lay there in dreadful agony; he had been shot through and through the body and the wound which was two inches below the breast-bone on the left side was a mortal one. The wounded man was carried across City Hall Park to Room 115 in the Astor House. There, with his life ebbing slowly away he was made as comfortable as medical attention would permit. Before he breathed his last, one week later, two dramatic scenes took place in the death room. Within less than five hours following the shooting McFarland was found in the Westmoreland Hotel by Captain Allaire of the Fourth Precinct and was told he was under arrest for shooting with intent to kill. He was brought to the room where Richardson lay dying. The stricken man raised himself feebly, gave one look at his assassin and said: "That is the man!" Three days before the end came, Richardson requested of Horace Greeley that arrangements be made so that he could marry Abby without delay, as he felt the end was near. And that same day the ceremony was performed by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher and Rev. O. B. Frothingham that made Albert D. Richardson and Abby Sage McFarland man and wife. This tender and touching marriage was described in the trial as "a horrible and disgraceful ceremony to get the property of a dying man and that tended to hasten his demise." Mr. Beecher was forced to answer to his flock. When he got through they knew they were answered. And the members of the church board lost no time in asserting that they stood behind their brilliant pastor. Albert Deane Richardson died on the morning of December 2. His hand was in that of his bride of three days as he passed away. [II6] BOSS TWEIED, AS HE AFPEARED WHEN FOREMAN OF BIG SIX, FRO51 AN OLD PHOTOGUtAPH IN TUE 105. DESSJON OF THE N, Y. FIRE DEPARTMENTs 1 "7] SINS OF NEW YORK April 4, 1870, Daniel McFarland was brought to trial, if the travesty that was enacted may be described as such. But first let us draw a little picture of the era in which this case happened. "The political ring which was the golden setting for Tweed greed," had had virtual control through six years of incorrigible corruption. AN ENGINE DRAWING THE WORK-TRAIN ON THE M1ETROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILROAD JUMNPS THE TRACK AND PLUNGES INTO THE STREET BELOW., ITS OCCUPANTS NARROWLY ESCAPING A FEARFUL DEATH. Greeley, a Republican, and other editors, were figrhting the Democratic administration for a cleaner government; and the Republicans were outnumbered three to one in the city of New York and the citizens were taking politics as a serious matter. Editorial comment was often inflaming and subsidized; Tweed and his gang manipulated the policy of his several newspapers and swayed the courts to his [ 118 ] SHE GRABBED THE REINS. 1HZ SENSATION PRODUCED ON A BROADWAY CAR BY AN IMPATIENT YOUNG LADY PA93ENOZRL _________________ ___0 d7 iT\ THE LAST &TAGIL THESY BUTTONED HIM1 TO A POSY. 'ftg cornT sarwoUM&ZOUMLL1E UUm'O S 5m EW Dfaloum OMQD SUOASW. Low an18 Lu=LaroD~~e~p or 4L VAX MELDED VADLTE ED ms amTEE!WAXTEB A DEWE. [ 1IoIQ SINS OF NEW YORK own interests to no little extent. The man on trial was a Catholic and the man he had put in his grave was a Protestant, and religious tolerance was less mildly practiced then. During the trial Greeley and his friends were accused of extending financial donations so that the case would go against the accused. And yet there was a District Attorney whose duty it was to bring about the punishment of an offender against the laws, and no one inquired where the $io,ooo. fee was coming from that was to go to the McFarland defense, though the accused was known to be practically penniless. The Greeleys, Sinclairs, Calhouns and the Woodhulls and Claflins were branded believers in free love and Mormonism and worse; they were "immoral persons who had conspired to steal Abby from her lawful husband." Roebling had just announced his plans for a bridge over the East River. The Arcade Railroad had submitted diagrams for a proposed subway that would extend beneath Broadway-an absurd proposition that was quickly vetoed. A successful trip had been made by officers of the Elevated Railway from Cortlandt to Thirtieth Street. As yet the road was laid only on one side of the street, but "it is intended to have two roads, so that passengers may go uptown, while others are going down." Some of the onlookers were heard to declare that this was "flying in the face of Providence." One reporter who made the trip informed that he knew precisely what housekeepers were doing their spring cleaning, and that he had seen fair ladies putting up their back hair and thought elevated traveling very interesting. The ride had taken only sixteen minutes. If Gazette pictures are to be relied on, this must have been a highly dangerous mode of transit. The New York Circus had opened for a short season on Fourteenth Street, opposite the Academy of Music, and featured "The Wonderful Cynocephalus," though what this might be, aside from being "the most unique of novelties," could not be learned. "Little Dorrit" was nearly ready in the Plum Pudding Edition of the works of Charles Dickens published by D. Appleton & Co., and the author was to give a reading from his new book at Steinway Hall. Mr. J. W. Wallack was playing "Rosedale" at his own theater. Mr. and Mrs. Blanchard "and the dogs" were doing "The Watchman and His Dogs" at the Bowery Theatre in conjunction with "The Signet Ring, or the Triumph of Greece," also "Sixteen String Jack." Ouida was writing what were then judged to be very sexy novels, though they would read as tame stuff now. Also, in scanning the old Gazette files, we learn [120] SINS OF NEW YORK that "Bret Harte, a young Western writer, has turned out a moving and realistic tale in 'The Luck of Roaring Carnp.'"' It took four days to panel a jury of twelve men after six hundred and twenty triers had been examined. McFarland was represented by John Graham, Elbridge T. Gerry and Col. Charles S. Spencer. For the prosecution District Attorney Garvin had the assistance of Noah Davis. The hearing was before Recorder Hackett. Col. Spencer delivered the opening address to the jury for the defense. It took up practically all of the fifth day of the trial and was described as eloquent and thrilling. "He was thrice applauded. Once the large audience, which listened with eager attention to catch every word that dropped from his lips, burst out in a perfect storm of applause."" This is what caused the storm: during the address, which was embellished by extracts from no less than five poets, Spencer made reference to the Richardson letter already reproduced here. "I believe it is my best trait," the gentlemen of the jury were informed, "that I love my wife, and I believe she is as pure as an angel; but if ever I discovered a letter like that to her from any man, I would shoot him whether it made me mad or not." Spencer imparted the information that insanity was to be the grounds of defense. McFarland had been "an insane man who simulated sanity." Then John Graham took charge for the accused man and his work was a masterly exhibition of witness-baiting, browbeating of the court and of an absolute distortion of the actual evidence in the case. It was prolonged into the eighth week and almost two days were taken up by Graham in his summation for the jury; and he broke down and wept as he finished. In short, Attorney Graham was privileged to run the affair pretty much as he pleased and whatever he did was right, and what the other side did was wrong if he so decided. Here are just two examples of the manner in which he jockeyed proceedings during examination of witnesses:, Witness: "I call myself an inventor." Graham: "I should call you the same." Witnaess: "I am,%andentist." SINS OF NEW YORK Graham: "Did McFarland strike you as a drinking man?" Witness: "I should not take him for a temperance lecturer." Graham: "That is not very becoming, Mr. Pomeroy. A man is on trial for his life, and your wit is out of place here." When Attorney Davis, for the People, could stand the high-handed proceedings no longer and endeavored to explain to the Court just how infamous was the course of his opponent, then Graham threatened with his fist and called Davis "a damned coward." "If you say another word," he blustered, "I'll have the clothes off your back. God damn you, I can lick you. I'll teach you what is due one gentleman to another." He did not quiet down until McFarland came up to his counsel and said to him: "I hope you won't do anything to hurt my case." Which was a sane thought for an insane man. It can readily be imagined how, under the circumstances, the murderer was made out a paragon as a husband and father, and a model of temperance and as a provider as well, while "Richardson's grave was his well-earned tomb," and all his associates were vile people. The law was made to take a back seat and Attorney Graham earned his $10io,ooo000. fee. Graham wound up his long harangue with the following telling words for the consideration of the jury: "Let those who dare dishonor the husband and the father, who wickedly presume to sap the foundations of his happiness, be admonished in good season of the perilousness of the work in which they are engaged. As a result of your deliberations, may they realize and acknowledge the never-failing justice of the Divine edict that [and the concluding words were fired with rhetoric intensity] JEALOUSY IS THE RAGE OF MAN AND THAT HE WILL NOT! CANNOT! AND MUST NOT! SPARE IN THE DAYS OF HIS VENGEANCE! ' Little was made of the facts presented by District Attorney Garvin: That Richardson's record in the days of the war between the North and the South proved him a man of proud and brave spirit; that the prisoner had taken the law in his own hands and sent the dead man to his last account without trial or question; that men seldom marry their mistresses except upon compulsion; that insanity was claimed as the excuse for crime, and the insanity was not proven; that---but why [12 ] SIN'S OF NEW YORK go on. The District Attorney spoke long and well, and while his summation was more able, if less flowery, than that of his opponent and not so prolonged, it could not carry the same weight. Apparently it was altogether beside the point that McFarland was guilty of a premeditated murder. Also, through all the mass of testimony and the long examinations of the witnesses and evidence, the real legal weakness of the defense was never brought forward. McFarland was permitted to justify h*is crime on the grounds that Richardson had robbed him of his wife-yet: Abby Sage had not been morally the wife of McFarland for more than two years and one-half before he shot Richardson, and at the time of the killing Abby had not been even the legal wife of the man on trial. At two minutes after three o'clock on Tuesday, May io, the jury retired. A storm which had been lowering all the day burst forth in a thunderstorm of unusual violence and flash after flash of lightning lighted the gray sky and reflected through the windows of the courtroom. Amid this disturbance of nature the jury returned with its verdict at 4:50 P.M. Taking all things in consideration, maybe it was cause for wonder that the jury was out as long as it was before the verdict was found: "CNot guilty!" [123]1 THE MOST REVOLTING UNSOLVED MURDER MYSTERY The Case of Many Clues That Led Nowhere and $50,000. Reward That Was Never Claimed B ARELY had the McFarland trial ceased to intrude itself into the daily papers and the general conversation, when the city of New York found a new and appalling murder, this timne an exceedingly mysterious one, to chain its interest. "Love, illicit or otherwvise, but that had the redeeming quality of flowing deep from at least two hearts," thus points out the Gazette, "lent the virtue of romance to the Richardson tragedy. The murder that happened sometime in the early hours of the morning of July 29, 1870, in 12 West Twenty-third Street, this was as utterly an abhorrent business as murder can be. That a citizen so respected and benevolent as Benjamin Nathan, one who should have had not an enemy in all the world, that he should have had his life-spark extinguished with such shocking brutality made for a revolting and horrible affair." Years wvere to place it in the fore of the most puzzling of the unsolved New York murder mysteries. Of the great cases of slaying within the confines of Manhattan Island that have ever defied unravelment, none has left trails so apparently distinct and yet so confusing. In no other instance where justice had finally conceded its utter bewilderment, has even the public mind been so far at sea. Even the Gazette, which has usually arrived, sooner or later, at what might be accepted as the lost key that could have unlocked these mystery doors of death, is forced in the end in the Nathan murder to advance conjecture that can at best only be accepted as fantastic. The murder of Helen Jewett, one of the first of the big crime mysteries of the last century, was after all merely just one more instance where justice had grossly miscarried. For the killing of this beautiful courtesan on the night of April 11), 1836, in the house on Thomas Street of which she was then an inmate, her quondam lover, Richard P. Robinson, there is almost conclusive evidence, escaped SiNSIF NEW y0~ lol THE S UZZARID IN ]DOVE'S PLUMBS DRON Sao 0 V 14 424 NARE 9UN4WARY MEN 14WITH Al ORO~" FO UUO~UOODNSW yO obscure case the, guilt could probably have been pinned on the rigtpesnifhrobsue sailr lverhadbee copelled to reveal himself, as shown in the chapter devoe taio r M ada e r h a bes ell.mr wh c t heMadmure reofDr. Harvey Burdell, famed as the "Bond Street MyseY Ywhc took place in the house numbered 3 1 on that street inJaurY 57wspety el [125 1 SINS OF NEW YORK fixed in the public mind as the outcome of black collusion between Mrs. Cunningham and John J. Eckell, a boarder, who was alleged to be her lover. While the Gazette gave it plenty of space at the time of its happening, on the occasion of a review a quarter of a century later it was conceded that the case had been made more of than it merited. The curiosity of an ingenuous public helped to make this more than the nine-day wonder that it was, and the introduction in the case of the "phantom baby" gave it a bizarre angle. Mrs. Cunningham, who claimed to have been mysteriously married to the murdered man before his killing, was the only one tried for the death of Burdell. The trial lasted no more than three days, and as a result she was pronounced "Not guilty." While in prison she pretended she was about to become the mother of an heir to the considerable property of the murdered man. Once back in the Bond Street house Mrs. Cunningham continued her deception. She went about it systematically, and in her "make up," showed herself a true artist. Her form became gradually more in accordance with the Hogarth lines of beauty. Unfortunately for Mrs. Cunningham, she had to have a doctor to assist her in her deceit, and the practitioner she made a confidant of was Dr. Uhl, a friend, it so happened, of the District Attorney. Uhl, with the connivance of the authorities, secured a new-born baby from Bellevue Hospital, which was brought in the care of a nurse who turned out to be a police woman. So Mrs. Cunningham was forced to come away from playing at confinement to endure real confinement once more and in the Tombs. The scheming woman, as mother of a posthumous child of the deceased, would legally have come into control of the bulk of the property left behind by Dr. Burdell. However, no more of this particular murder, other than to add that little Justitia Anderson, the baby used in the attempted hoax, was secured along with her mother as one of the attractions for Mr. Barnum's Museum, and there exhibited at "twenty-five cents a head, half price for children." It might be added that A. Oakey Hall happened to play a prominent part in both the Burdell and the Nathan mysteries. He was the District Attorney who conducted the Cunningham prosecution and was also the author of a dreary farce with the unseemly title of "The Coroner's Inquest," which had to do with the trial and its curious outgrowths. He was the same A. Oakey Hall later to be referred to by Thomas Nast during the Tweed ring exposure in the famous Harper's Weekly [126] S INS OF NEW YOR K cartoons as O.K. Haul and who happened to be mayor of New York at the time of the Nathan tragedy. Of the reward amounting to almost $50,000. that was offered for the detection of the murderers of Benjamin Nathan, $5,000. was from out of the Hall pocket. As for the crime for which Polly Bodine went on trial, and which made one of the early features of the National Police Gazette, there has never been much doubt as to her having been the guilty party. A study of the famous American crime cases makes one wonder why this case in particular has chanced to be so generally overlooked by students of these phenomena. But from out,(f the Bodine and the Nathan cases, no Edgar Allan Poe, Conan Doyle or S. S. Van Dine ever strove to fictionize a mystery that led up so many blind alleys and yet arrived nowhere, and this despite the strong monetary incentive in the way of reward in the Nathan affair. Benjamin Nathan, around whose foul and mysterious murder this chapter centers, was one of the first citizens of the community. For three generations the Nathans had a high place in New York business circles; his father, Samuel Nathan, had helped to found the New York Stock Exchange, of which the murdered man was a member. Benjamin Nathan was bound by ties of blood and marriage with several of the distinguished Jewish families. Judge Cardozo and Rabbi Julius J. Lyon, were brothers-in-law. His fifty-seven years had been well lived and bespoke the man who was devout and benevolent in inclination and honorable in his business dealings. In appearance he was of good medium build and with a kind and even strong and distinguished face framed in white side-whiskers and with a still thick thatch of gray-white hair; metal-rimmed spectacles were necessitated by his imperfect vision. He was in business as broker and private banker on Wall Street, where his repute was of the highest, and he played a pronounced part in laying the cornerstone for the Mount Sinai Hospital, to which he had given generously of his fortune, and of which he had been the president for a number of years. And this was the man who was found horribly dead on a sultry July morning, and why and how he came to his end in this way, no one, it seems, will ever really know. The basic facts, which the various sources examined seem to make out as fairly correct, were summarized in the Gazette as follows: [ 127] SINS OF NEW YORK Sometime during May, 1870, the Nathan family had moved for the summer to their country scat at Morristown, N. J. Once or twice a week it was the habit of Mr. Nathan to come to his office and consult with his confidential clerk, and occasionally he would stay overnight in his luxuriously furnished city home at 12 West Twenty-third Street. He came to New York on Thursday, July 28, and made what was to be his last appearance at his Wall Street headquarters. As the following day was to be the anniversary of his mother's death and he desired to commemorate this event at the Nineteenth Street Synagogue he decided to sleep overnight at home. He found the house in the hands of carpenters and temporarily upset. At his request four mattresses were heaped into a makeshift bed in the front parlor on the second floor by Mrs. Anne Kelly, the housekeeper. Four people were known to have been in the house during the hours of the killing. Among these four, were two of the sons of Nathan, who were in business in New York, Frederick and Washington, ages twenty-five and twenty-three. The other two were Mrs. Kelly and her son, William, who acted as a sort of general helper about the place. It was a few minutes before 6 o'clock of the following morning, a morning that had broken bright and glorious after a night of storms, when the first alarm of the dreadful happening was had. Patrolman John Mangam, of the Twentyninth Precinct was walking along Twenty-third Street with his thoughts on his relief and making the last turn of his beat, when his attention was arrested by voices vibrant with terror: "Officer! Officer! For God's sake, hurry!" He turned in the direction of the cries, and noted on the stoop of the brownstone house which he had passed only a few seconds before, the figures of two intensely agitated young men, who were still in their nightshirts. They were recognized instantly as Washington and Frederick Nathan. The nightshirt of the latter was stained with blood, and his white socks had trailed unsightly stains to the stoop. "Father! He's lying upstairs! He's been murdered!" the horrorstruck voices of the two young men exclaimed together in broken words. The officer followed the two into the house and up one flight of stairs. The door to the front room was still open. There was the ghastly spectacle. The fearfully battered body was stretched on its back over the threshold of this temporary bedroom with the feet extending into a small room that broke off to the hallway and that was used as a study and office. On the body, later examination revealed, there were marks of no less than twelve distinct blows. The gruesome details of the murder are essential in connection with an important point in the case. Five wounds were about the head, two of which could have caused immediate death; one had split the left ear as though with a knife, another, the most frightful one, was near the temple and had crushed the skull. Two of the blows had been [ I28] SINS OF NEW YORK of such power as to break three fingers on the right hand and to fracture the knuckles. The other marks were on the arms, breast and back. A welter of blood had changed most of the right side of the dead man's nightgown from white to crimson. The implement of death was discovered within a few minutes after Officer Mangam came into the room. Near to the street door Washington Nathan had noted a heavy bar about eighteen inches long with both ends turned down at right angles. The discovery had been made while Frederick Nathan had gone with Officer Mangam to summon Superintendent John Jourdan and Chief DeWAR ON THE WIRES OW A TOUNO WIDOW WHO IEWW BOW TO TAKE CARE OF IIERELF REENTED THE APPROPRIATIOIN OF HER ROUKITOP BT A TELKOAP rlr PA.,.TW YORK CTT tective James J. Kelso by telegraph. They had only to go a few steps to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, where there was a telegraph station. [Incidentally, the Gazette was conducting a campaign at the time condemning the manner in which housetops were being appropriated.] Careful note was made of the condition of the room. It revealed other evidences of the terrific struggle that must have taken place. The walls and frame of the door, as well as the floor, were blood smeared. Chairs and other objects were overturned. [The finger-printing system had not been brought into usage by the police as yet, otherwise on one of the four persons who had been in the house during the time of the [ 129] SINS OF NEW YORK murder, guilt would have been fastened where it belonged, or else they would have been exonerated from a suspicion that was never lived down.] Robbery had been committed, whether as a blind or the work of a thief PLAYFUL PRANKS OF MARCH BREEZES. HOW THE WIND TAKES ADVANTAGE OF WOMENS' DRAPERY A.ND GIVES THE NAUCHrY LIUCN A CHANCE TO STUDY ANATOMY ON BROADWAY, NEW Y(.:X was a subject for vague supposition. The keys had been taken from the dead man's body, the safe in the private office had been unlocked and rifled, but there was nothing of much value to be taken. The safe never contained more than a few hundred dollars. A Jurgenson watch and three [ 130] SINS OF NEW YORK diamond studs had been secured by the murderer; the timepiece was valued at $6oo. In the basin in the bathroom were indications that bloody hands had been washed there. That no signs of this deed of violence had come to any of the four who occupied the house at the time, would have been grounds for strong suspicion, had this not been explained by the architect who had built the house. The architect testified that the walls and passage to Nathan's room had been specially deadened, and made soundproof at the owner's desire, so that one could very well sleep at one end of the floor and be ignorant of a life or death struggle at the other end. These were the facts that were brought to the attention of the world at large through the newspapers on the morning of Saturday, July 30, 1870. Of such import was this happening as a matter of news value that it all but crowded the FrancoPrussian War off the front page. The World, for example, gave more than four entire columns of its front page to the murder on Twenty-third Street. Only the final of the six columns was devoted to "The War on the Rhine,"1 and to the account of the skirmishing between outposts, the neutrality of England, the arrest of newAspaper correspondents, and the claim of a German success at Volklinge. All else in the newspapers was overshadowed by the murder. The reader on this day probably gave but a casual glance to the progress of Horace Greeley's proposed candidacy as a successor to General Grant as the White House occupant. A few lovers of sport may have taken time to read about the triumphant tour of the Red Stockings of Cincinnati, a team that appeared unbeatable at the sport called baseball. The new traction system for Broadway was spoken of and the passing of the stage-coach was foreboded. There wasn't much doing in the theater, anyway, at this time of the year, aside from J. K. Emmet, the sweet-voiced singer, at Wallack's in his character of Fritz Vanderblinkenstoffen in his new play "Fritz, Our German Cousin." Joe Jefferson was not to reopen the Booth Theatre in "Rip Van Winkle"' till the middle of the coming month; and Patti was being advertised for a new concert in the Academy of Music. One story did get more than a column and it dealt with how Lydia Thompson, the dashing British blonde, who set off a pair of flesh SINS OF NEW YORK All day Saturday and Sunday and for many days thereafter Twenty-third Street in the vicinity of No. 12, found its walks flooded with an awe-struck and babbling populace. This street was then one of the most notable of the city thoroughfares. Many fine residences stood on each side of its broad roadway and well-kept trees edged the sidewalks. Directly oppositc the Nathan home was the quite new Fifth MASHED BY A MIDGET. PATTI, THR PBIMA DO..A, FALLS IN LOVE WITH A MIDGET IN BUNNZLL'S NZEW YOIK MUSEUM AND ENTERIAJXS B=M AT HEB = OEZL Avenue Hotel, which rose to the then unusual height of six stories, and which, on account of its altitude had been equipped with a new-fangled contrivance known as an "elevator." No. 5 was the home of Professor S. F. B. Morse, inventor of the telegraph. Lily Langtry, the beauteous Jersey Lily, had her home on this street soon after. Eagerly the newspapers were devoured and their least revelations of new development were discussed at great length. The coroner's inquest, which proceeded [132] N 7w ow 'I 1z I Iiit v 1,3 'I 4F m SPRING OPENINGS ON THE TURF. EPISODES OF THE PREPARATIOPS FOR AND OPENING OP THE SPRING RACING SEASON AT JEROME PARK AND SHEEPSHEAD BAY. I-Wra. I&agwr VaulUse,B. -Dividsg the WsaOsage. II-The jechey' Mash. IV-Their Fir.t Kace. V-4eorge H. Kgesman, Manager @ the 0brhten beath Tmah S133 1 SINS OF NEW YORK the following week, was awaited with positive excitement. The city was buzzing with rumors that conveyed a repellent suspicion. Was this a parricide? Had it been the hand of Washington Nathan that had done his father to such an appalling death? August 2nd was the date when the inquest got under way. That same day one could read of the Nathan burial, which had occurred the day previous. The procession of carriages had proceeded to Cypress Hills Cemetery and passed through an entrance over which was the Hebrew inscription, "Congregation B'nai Jeshurun" and with the words "Gate of Prayer" above. Through this the long lines of vehicles was driven and the casket borne to its grave in a lonely little spot in the hillside. Whose was the guilty hand in this sad taking off? The Gazette report of the inquest follows with but few alterations: One of the first to give testimony was Major-General Francis P. Blair. In addition to being a veteran of the Mexican and Civil Wars he had been the nominee in 1868 for the Vice-Presidency of the United States on the ticket headed by Horatio Seymour, and which had given little opposition to the one headed by General Grant. About twenty minutes before the discovecry of the murder the General had looked from the window of his room in the Fifth Avenue Hotel into the room on the third floor of the Nathan home and had seen Frederick Nathan in the act of getting out of bed. Blair's observations before returning to his own couch had made note of another fact. The front door of the Nathan house leading to the street was open to almost the full half distance. This fact was quite at variance with the statement that came out in the examination of John Mangam, the officer on the beat. Mangam declared he had examined the front door of the Nathan house at i:3o and 4:30. It can be seen where more credence can be placed on the word of MajorGeneral Blair than of the policeman so far as this contention may be concerned. The point can have held importance since Dr. Joseph E. Janvrin, the physician attached to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, testified that he had examined the body of the deceased some few minutes after 6 A. M. and that Mr. Nathan had then been dead not less than three or four hours, in his opinion. Someone could have been concealed in the house and escaped after the fell deed. Walton H. Peckham, whose house stood at the southwest corner of Twenty-third Street and Fifth Avenue, and which was the nearest to the east from the Nathan residence, admitted to having heard some noise during the night, but could not determine the significance of same. Considering that so many windows must have been open close to the Nathan house the presumption is that the noises of the death struggle must have [I34] SINS OF NEW YORK attracted some attention unless the murder happened at a time when the night storms had broken loose again. There was heavy rain and rumblings of thunder between 2 and 3 o'clock in the morning. There was other inconsequential testimony which was made much of for the time being. A nephew of the dead man was among those sworn in, an act that led to an odd incident, though one that had little bearing on the case. One speaking for the witness declared to the Coroner that since said witness was of the Holy House of Israel, the requirements were that to be sworn in "he must have his hat on his head, his face to the east, and his hand on the five books of Pentateuch." The witness, however, was sworn in accordance with the customary court procedure and his testimony was of no import. Frederick Nathan, when it came his time to describe the happenings of the fatal night and morning, gave a satisfactory account of how he had spent the evening. He was slender-framed, and luxuriant "Burnside" whiskers gave his face dignity. He reached home at about midnight and he exchanged a few words with his father, who desired to know if he wished any of the ice-water that had been placed in his room. Frederick had slept undisturbed during the night, not even taking note of the homecoming of his brother, Washington. He had arisen shortly before 6 A. M. and had begun to dress, when his attention was attracted by the calls of his brother and had rushed to the floor below. He knelt down over the body of his father hoping to find that life still remained. In this way his nightshirt and socks became stained with the blood of his parent. Washington Nathan was, of course, the one on whom all waited for his testimony. So far as was ever made known, he was the last to see his father in life and the first to look upon his dead body. He was slender, like his brother, but carried himself more gracefully; he had only a slight mustache and looked much the younger of the two. Suspicion, which he was never able during his life to altogether live down, had been directed his way on a very strong current. He had enjoyed a rather interesting evening the night of July 28, and admitted to having been from 9 o'clock until midnight in the well-known and fashionable maison de joic kept by Irene Macready, at 104 East Fourteenth Street. He reached home at 12:2o, noted that both his father and his brother were sleeping soundly and he retired without disturbing either. A few minutes before 6 o'clock the following morning he arose and, as he was to take part in the ceremony that had kept his father in the city, and as his father, moreover, was a heavy sleeper, he went down to call him. And then his eyes met with the sight that caused him to call for his brother. [ 35] SINS OF NEW YORK The hearing had extended to August I I, when the Coroner produced something of a sensation by calling the name of Miss Clara Dale. This was the young lady who had entertained Washington from the hours of nine until midnight in the house on Fourteenth Street. We read that "her face was full and fair and her physique and carriage were stately." As to how ladies of her trade in the Seventies dressed, the following may not be a fair criterion, since "she had divested herself of all showy ornaments, causing her to appear as an elegant lady." However, "she wore a green and white striped silk dress, with panier, flesh-colored kids [gloves], and the hair was done up in waterfall and puffs. Her gaiters were the latest style worn by fashionable ladies, with the preposterous high brass heels, and white pearl buttons, and tassels." Her testimony was brief and to the point and her examination was in no ways embarrassing. The District Attorney, we are informed, "treated her with a manner polite enough to be called Chesterfieldian." It was much nicer treatment than was accorded Mrs. Anne Kelly, who had appeared on the scene a day or so earlier. Mrs. Kelly was subjected to far more personal questioning than was the fate of Miss Clara Dale, which brought a letter of caustic rebuke from Dr. Mary Walker. Mrs. Kelly was even made to confess to an unhappy event in her early life that had no bearing on the case. She had been the housekeeper in the Nathan house for four years and according to her story her master had reached home around io P.M., and after carrying ice-water to his room on the second floor and arranging a bed for him on the floor according to his direction, she had fastened the doors and windows, retired to her room at the other end of the second floor and had heard nothing thereafter until she had been awakened by the cries of Washington in the morning. Her son, William Kelly, followed Miss Clara Dale on the stand, and his was a severe grilling. His examination could not have been more severe if he had been on trial for the murder. A pale young man of insignificant build who gave his age as twenty-four and whose sunken cheeks and hollow eyes made him rather sickly-looking. He had been discharged from the Union Army in 1865 and was receiving a pension of $8. a month from the Government. He lived on this and odd change he picked up around the Nathan house, where he lodged and had been sleeping on the night of the murder in his room in the attic. He had heard nothing during the night. He had risen shortly after 5 on the following morning and after dressing had gone to work in his room blackening the shoes of the Nathan men, which he had taken to his room the previous evening. [136] SINS OF NEW ^ ^-^^'^ifc^^^ ^ja^ ~,, v 0 K I it It -: (ilj( IL - SHE KNOCKED IT OUT. HOW DR. MARY WALKER, WHILE TRAVELLING ON A CONNECTICUT RAILWAY, RESENTED THE SMELL OP A QUEER CIGAR. His attention to the tragedy had been first attracted by the calls of Washington Nathan. There you have the stories of the four persons who were actually known to have been in the house while Benjamin Nathan was being beaten to death. Nothing vital was ever made out of their mass of testimony. Could either of these be the guilty one? [ 371 SINS OF NEW YORK Frederick Nathan, it should be said at once, was never under suspicion, nor was there any good reason why he should be. In fact, so utterly was he free of suspicion that were this a narrative of fiction instead of fact, right here we would have the guilty party. Mrs. Kelly had few fingers pointed her way, though there had been some discrepancy in some of her statements. First she said she had heard nothing on the fatal night, then she said she had been awakened by the storm. But on the whole she told a straightforward story and impressed every one as a hard-working and harmless being. William Kelly, there is little doubt, was the one on whom the police tried to fasten suspicion, at least as an accomplice. It was hinted that he might have opened a door to let in the one who had done the murder; that he might have committed the deed himself. One version, which the Gazette held in derision, drew a picture of the boy slinking into the room to rifle Mr. Nathan's pockets. Suddenly the sleeping man wakened and recognized the sneak-thief. Before he could make an outcry Kelly struck Nathan over the head and knocked him unconscious, then proceeded with the brutal killing so that the danger of accusation would be forever removed. Somehow, the Gazette seemed to take the view that William Kelly was too supine a character for such desperate work. This was a point of view strongly taken by Edmund Lester Pearson in his book "Studies in Murder," in which is to be found the most able and interesting review of the Twenty-third Street murder. This leaves only Washington Nathan of the quartet to whom attention has been turned. Suspicion, of course, pointed all the more strongly in his direction when it was discovered that his feminine associations leaned toward ladies of easy morals. And there was only his word for it that he, the last known to have seen his father breathing in life, had reached home at the time he claimed, twenty minutes past midnight. And no living soul but Washington Nathan could know whether he had slept undisturbed through the hours of the murder. He died abroad practically in exile twenty-two years after the burial of his father with the mystery unsolved. His hair was white and his health had been broken for several years. His character never seemed to take on any of the strength of that of his father. In 1879, the same year that marked the passing of his mother, he got mixed up in an unpleasant escapade in the Coleman House in which he was shot in the neck by a woman [ 38] SIN'S OF NEWV YORK named Fanny Barrett. In 1884 he married the widowed daughter of Colonel J. Il. Mapleson. Bequests of more than $ioo,ooo., of which $75,000. came to him from his father, enabled him to round out an idle and misspent existence. But for all the general worthlessness of his character it never betrayed anything in the way of vicious symptoms such as could have turned him into a parricide so fiendish as to inflict the brutal wounds that had caused the death of his father. More than a week was taken up with the proceedings of the inquest and the list of those examined was an extended one, and never got anywhere. All sorts of leads were followed, and they were many. Chief Jourdan of the Police received almost five hundred letters ere the murder was ten days old, and most of them advised him how to handle the case. Several times there were arrests that gave hope that the murderer had been found, and then the expectations proved to have no genuine basis. One of the arrests, that of Thomas Dunphy, was an odd business. Mr. Dunphy, a quite prominent lawyer, was spending an evening with some ladies in a house over in Brooklyn in the week after the excitement on Twenty-third Street. Dunphy. like most barristers of the period, had a tendency toward dramatics. He reacted the tragedy with gestures and resonant vocal effects for the ladies in the parlor and took the part of the imaginary murderer. His acting was so realistic that one young lady, who had been listening in at the keyhole, ran out of the house in her agitation and convinced an officer of the law that the murderer had been found. Dunphy was collared by the policeman and carted off to the station-house and it took him an entire evening, most of which was spent in a cell, before he proved his innocence. Strangely enough, he had been co-author of a book on murder trials which had been published in 1867 under the title "Remarkable Trials of All Countries." Following the inquest there came a number of other suspicions and arrests. Most of them were "confessions" by convicts who wished to get free passage to New York. Then George Ellis, a convict in Sing Sing Prison, was brought into the case. He had been heard to say that he could give the name of the Nathan murderer. He was brought down to New York and he identified the "dog" from out of a score of such implements that had been gathered from various shops. Ellis said that before his commitment to Sing Sing he and a burglar named George Forrester had planned to rob the Nathan house. The plan had been to enter the ['39] SINS OF NEW YORK house while the family was away in the country. Forrester, in the opinion of Ellis, had undertaken the job alone and had been surprised to find Nathan in his room. Forrester was arrested in 1872 after quite a chase and was represented by the celebrated criminal lawyers, Howe and Hummel. The case against Forrester never got very far. It was felt that the testimony against the man would not stand up and he was discharged, only to be sent to Joliet, where he was wanted on another charge. Ellis, who was not permitted to testify against Forrester, explained his identification of the "dog" as an implement with which the two had often worked. The Gazette refers to one of the "leads" noted in the "Recollections of a New York Chief of Police," by George Walling, who was thirty-eight years on the force. According to Walling, while Ellis was under guard in the Sixth Precinct Station during the pursuit of Forrester, Ellis, in conversation with Detective Patrick Dolan, said one day: "I'm going back to State's Prison and Superintendent Jourdan is going to die. Isn't it too bad?" "How do you know that?" Dolan inquired. "Well-his clothes don't fit him," was the answer. The implication that Walling would seem to convey is that the Police head was burdened with some haunting secret and that Judge Cardozo had used strong influence to force Jourdan into shrouding with mystery certain facts that might have reflected unfavorably on some one in the Nathan family, and yet $30,000. of the amount of reward for detection was put up by the wife of the murdered man. Nor does the Walling deduction coincide with Walling's surmise that William Kelly had been a confederate in the murder. In fact, the one-time Chief of Police of New York is very vague in some portions of his account. Anyway, Walling has it that Jourdan failed from the day of Benjamin Nathan's death and was dead himself a few months after. More than a quarter of a century after Benjamin Nathan had been consigned to his grave another story brought "a beautiful Spanish woman" into the case. Up in a small town in New Hampshire Irene Macready died. It was in her house on Fourteenth Street that Washington Nathan had dallied with Miss Clara Dale on the momentous evening. The Macready woman was said to have told her nieces that she had knowledge of how "the beautiful Spanish woman" had a key to the Nathan house and had been there until 2 or 3 o'clock on the morning of the [I 140] SINS OF NEW YORK murder and had started to talk of certain harrowing happenings when Irene Macready gave her the advice to keep her mouth shut. And then the Gazette had a theory of its own. Here it is: In business circles there is a theory on the Nathan murder entertained to this day which we may as well give place to while we are upon the subject. Many who know him believe that Benjamin Nathan was in possession of papers of great value to some man of his own station with whom he stood in business connection. He was, as we have said, a silent man in his affairs. His own wife never knew what he had in his safe or what he carried in his pockets, save as he chose to tell her, consequently, he may have possessed documents of untold importance without the knowledge of any one but those whom they concerned. At any rate, the theorists hold that he did own such documents, and that he was put out of the way by the person whom they concerned, who afterwards plundered the place in order to send suspicion on the wrong track. And so the case of many clues is still, and probably will always be, an unsolved mystery. [ 141 ] ILAd