iEx Htbrtfl 
 
 SEYMOUR DURST 
 
 When you leave, please leave this book 
 
 Because it has been said 
 "Ever thing comes t' him who waits 
 
 Except a loaned book." 
 
c&i we & 
 
 Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library 
 Gift of Seymour B. Durst Old York Library 
 
I 
 
 Jj 
 
 - 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2013 
 
 http://archive.org/details/flaggsflatsOOflag 
 
FLAGG S FLATS 
 
 BY 
 
 JARED FLAGG 
 
 Third Edition 
 
 Copyright, 1909, by Jahed Fiagg 
 
CT 
 275 
 
 A3 
 
TO THE READER 
 
 ANYTHING worth reading at all is worth read- 
 ing carefully. If you read this book you 
 should read it carefully. You should not lose 
 the gist by skimming over certain seemingly 
 unimportant parts. 
 
 The book explains why my real friends 
 stand by me and have stood by me even in my 
 darkest hours. In writing the book no attempt 
 has been made to palliate my own faults and 
 make my side appear better, or the other side 
 worse, than the facts justify. 
 
 It is a simple narrative relating to certain 
 events (many of them illegal, a few legal, in 
 their nature) , given in the order in which they 
 occurred, without embellishments — a copy of 
 the Court files — not so much what I say, but 
 what the Records say. In other words, all that 
 I say, whether appertaining to social, business, 
 police or Court matters, can be verified. 
 
 The facts, prior to this publication, have 
 appeared only in the Court Records. Few 
 read the Records, few therefore are familiar 
 with the facts in my case. 
 
 Tared Flagg. 
 
 P.S. 
 
 There is no such thing as criminal slander. 
 One person can say anything about another 
 person and the other person's only legal re- 
 
 in 
 
dress is by civil procedure. But let him put 
 it down in black and white, let him write it, 
 and it then, if false, becomes criminal libel. 
 This means jail. The difference between talk- 
 ing and writing — slander and libel — is jail. 
 
 Over a year ago I wrote, I printed, I pub- 
 lished the first edition of this book. Over a 
 year ago I sent marked copies of the book to 
 all those, including the newspaper editors and 
 the public officials, herein denounced. I ac- 
 cused them respectively of being liars and 
 scoundrels and thieves and blackmailers and 
 perjurers and forgers, and then folded my 
 arms, so to speak, and waited to see what they 
 were going to do about it. They didn't do 
 anything. They didn't even let out a peep; 
 nor have I, from that day to this, heard one 
 word from any one of them. I have, however, 
 heard many expressions of righteous indigna- 
 tion from others, and have received many 
 commendatory letters from friends and from 
 utter strangers residing in different parts of 
 the country. I have also received orders from 
 most, if not all, of the largest public libraries 
 in the United States, and these orders have 
 been executed. Furthermore, all the greatest 
 educational institutions in America have 
 written to me. Copies of some of the letters 
 received from these great seats of learning 
 follow: 
 
 m 
 
Yale University Library. 
 
 New Haven, Conn. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 Dear Sir: I take the liberty of asking whether a copy of your 
 "Flagg's Flats" could be deposited in this Library for the use of 
 future students and investigators in genealogy and history. 
 
 Assuring you that the book could be put to no better use, I 
 remain, 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 J. C. Schwab, 
 
 Librarian. 
 
 Harvard College Library. 
 
 Cambridge, Mass. 
 
 Jared Flagg, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir: My attention has been called to the publication 
 named below and to the desirability of placing it in this Library 
 for the use of professors and students of the University. 
 
 The work not being readily procurable through the book- 
 trade, I venture to ask that the Library may be favored by the 
 gift of a copy. Your kindness in this matter will be highly 
 appreciated. 
 
 William C. Lane, 
 Librarian. 
 
 "Flagg's Flats/' by Jared Flagg. 
 
 Columbia University, in the City of New York, 
 Library. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 My Dear Sir: My attention has been called to your book en- 
 titled "Flagg's Flats," and if you will present a copy to this 
 Library we will be very glad to receive one for preservation 
 among our collections. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 W. D. Johnston, 
 Librarian. 
 
 v 
 
Library of Princeton University. 
 
 Princeton, N. J. 
 
 Jared Flagc, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir: I am advised that a book called "Flagc's Flats" 
 is to be desired for this library, and, being privately printed, is 
 to be had only from you. 
 
 It would be much appreciated if you should see fit to promote 
 the usefulness of this library by giving or selling us a copy. 
 
 Believe me, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 E. C. Richardson. 
 
 Vassar College Library. 
 
 poughkeepsie, n. y. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 Dear Sir: We very much desire to have in this library a 
 book entitled "Flagg's Flats," of which you are the author, but 
 we have learned that it is not for sale. If we may not buy a 
 copy, may we beg one? There is much interest here in the 
 subject with which it deals. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 A. Underhill, 
 Ref. Librarian. 
 
 The Johns Hopkins University. 
 
 Baltimore, Md. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 Dear Sir: The library of the Johns Hopkins University would 
 be pleased to receive a copy of "Flagg's Flats." Upon its 
 receipt a suitable acknowledgement will be sent. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Dr. M. L. Raney, 
 
 Librarian. 
 
 vi 
 
Cornell University Library. 
 
 Ithaca, N. Y. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 Dear Sir: The Cornell University Library has a considerable 
 number of books on municipal government of cities and kindred 
 topics, and would be much pleased to add your work, "Flagg's 
 Flats/' 
 
 If you are willing to send one to our library it will be re- 
 garded as a great favor. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Andrew C. White, 
 Asst. Librarian. 
 
 University of Pennsylvania, 
 The Library. 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 Dear Sir: I have heard that recently you have had printed a 
 book entitled "Flagg's Flats," which is of great interest and 
 importance in connection with the Municipal Government of 
 New York City, showing the misrule, etc., which has been car- 
 ried on there. May I ask you if it is possible to send a copy of 
 this book to the University of Pennsylvania Library? We 
 would be very grateful to you if you can comply with this 
 request. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Katherine S. Lieper, 
 Assistant Librarian. 
 
 The University of Chicago. 
 
 Founded by John D. Rockefeller. 
 Office of the Librarian. 
 
 Chicago, III. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 Dear Sir: We have heard of a recent book published by you, 
 and entitled "Flagg's Flats." If it be not asking too much we 
 should be very glad to get two copies, one for our General 
 Library, and one for our Dept. of Political Economy. If you 
 can oblige us in this way, kindly send them by express, collect. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 Zella Allen Dixson, 
 
 Librarian. 
 
 vii 
 
New York University School of Law. 
 
 Washington Square, East, New York City. 
 Jared Flagg, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir: May I request a copy of "Flagc's Flats" for our 
 Law Library, 32 Waverly Place, New York City? We shall 
 appreciate it, I assure you. 
 
 Very truly, 
 
 Leslie J. Tompkins, 
 
 Secretary. 
 
 Syracuse University. 
 
 Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 New York City. 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Would it be possible for our library to obtain a copy of your 
 book, "Flagg's Flats"? 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 M. J. Sibley, 
 Acting Librarian. 
 
 The Wellesley College, 
 
 My Dear Mr. Flagg: The Wellesley College Library desires 
 a copy of your book, "Flagg's Flats." . . . 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 H. St. B. Brooks, 
 Acting Librarian. 
 
 The College of the City of New York. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 
 Dear Sir: If you will send us a copy of your work, "Flagg's 
 Flats," we will gladly defray cost and make the book accessible 
 to readers in our library. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Henry E. Bliss, 
 Deputy Librarian. 
 
 viii 
 
University of Michigan. 
 
 Ann Arbor, Mich. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 We have five copies of your book, "Flagg's Flats." If you 
 can spare another copy it would be much appreciated by the 
 following: Miss Mary Pratt, Librarian, Mitchell Public Library, 
 Hillsdale, Mich. Please send C. O. D., direct to Hillsdale. 
 
 Thanking you for your kind response to our former request, 
 I am 
 
 Very gratefully yours, 
 
 Theo. W. Koch, 
 Librarian. 
 
 University of Southern California, 
 College of Liberal Arts. 
 
 Los Angeles, Cal. 
 My Dear Mr. Flagg: We would like very much to have a 
 copy of your book, "Flagg's Flats/' in our library. What would 
 be the cost? 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 C. N. Brown, 
 Librarian. 
 
 De Pauw University. 
 
 Greencastle, Indiana. 
 
 Mr. Jared Flagg. 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Will you kindly send a copy of your book, "Flagg's Flats" 
 to our library? It would be appreciated here. We have a de- 
 bate in preparation on the subject of city government, and would 
 find it especially useful. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 L. M. Powell, 
 Librarian. 
 
 ix 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 WHO APPEAR IN THIS VOLUME 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, President qf the United States. 
 Geo. B. McClellan, Mayor of the City of New York. 
 Recorder Goff, of New York City. 
 Judge Hough, of the United States Court. 
 
 Judge Newberger, of the General Sessions Court of New York. 
 
 Judge V. J. Dowling, of the Supreme Court. 
 
 John R. Fellows, late District Attorney of the City of New York. 
 
 Bartow S. Weeks, Ex-Assistant District Attorney. 
 
 Wm. Travers Jerome, District Attorney of the City and County 
 
 of New York. 
 Wm. Marshall, Assistant District Attorney. 
 C. W. Appleton, Assistant District Attorney. 
 Ex- Assistant District Attorney Lindsay. 
 Ex- Assistant District Attorney Lewis. 
 
 Chas. A. O'Neil, Assistant Corporation Counsel of the City of 
 New York. 
 
 Ed. R. Carroll, Chief Clerk of the Court of General Sessions. 
 Wm. Hanna, First Assistant Clerk of the Court of General 
 Sessions. 
 
 John N. Bogart, License Commissioner of the City of New York. 
 J. J. Cadwell, License Commissioner's Secretary. 
 Geo. W. Hamilton, Deputy License Inspector. 
 H. N. Steinert, License Commissioner's Attorney. 
 F. L. C. Keating, Ex-License Commissioner of the City of 
 New York. 
 
 Geo. W. Benham, Warden, Auburn State's Prison. 
 Ex-Police Commissioner Parker, of the City of New York. 
 Ex-Police Commissioner Theodore A. Bingham. 
 Moses W. Cortright, Chief of the Police of New York City. 
 Inspector Schmittberger, of the police force of New York City. 
 Acting Police Captain Lynch, of the West Twentieth Street 
 Station House. 
 
 Police Captain Martins, of the East Thirtieth Street Station 
 House. 
 
 xi 
 
Police Captain Pickett, of the Tenderloin Station. 
 Ex-Police Captain James K. Price. 
 Ex-Police Captain Geo Chapman. 
 Ex-Police Captain J. J. Donohue. 
 
 Detective Sergeant B. McConville, of Police Headquarters. 
 
 Central Office Detective Mason. 
 
 Police Detective Zimmerman. 
 
 Police Detective Rohrig. 
 
 Police Detective H. W. Schill. 
 
 Police Detective Cohn. 
 
 Francis H. Leggett, Wholesale Grocer and foreman of the 
 Grand Jury that indicted Donohue and Price. . 
 
 Rev. C. H. Parkhurst, D.D., President of the Society for the 
 Prevention of Crime. 
 
 H. M. MacCracken, Vice-President of the Society for the Pre- 
 vention of Crime. 
 
 Wm. H. Arnoux, Second Vice-President of the Society for the 
 Prevention of Crime. 
 
 Thaddeus D. Kenneson, Secretary of the Society for the Preven- 
 tion of Crime. 
 
 Ed. A. Newell, Treasurer of the Society for the Prevention of 
 Crime. 
 
 Frank Moss, Counsel of the Society for the Prevention of Crime. 
 Arthur F. Dennett, late Superintendent of the Society for the 
 
 Prevention of Crime. 
 Gilbert Totten Reeder, Landlord. 
 Charles W. Brooke, Counsel for Jared Flagg. 
 H. D. Mildeberger, Counsel for Jared Flagg. 
 Caruth & Caruth, Counsel for Jared Flagg. 
 Irwin E. Ziegler, Counsel for Jared Flagg. 
 Frank Work, multi-millionaire. 
 E. C. Sewall, Treasurer Pond's Extract Company. 
 Chas. Dana Gibson, Illustrator. 
 Howard Chanler Christie, Illustrator. 
 Edison M. Knox, Illustrator. 
 Sarony, Photographer. 
 L. S. White, Photographer. 
 Tonele, Photographer. 
 Eddowes Bros., Photographers. 
 Richard S. Davenport, Janitor. 
 
 Oscar Hammerstein, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 Heinrich Conreid, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 David Belasco, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 Chas. Frohman, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 Daniel Frohman, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 H. B. Savage, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 Klaw & Erlanger, Operatic and Theatrical Managers. 
 
 xii 
 
SHUBERT Bros., Operatic and Theatrical Managers. 
 
 Thompson & Dundy, Operatic and Theatrical Managers. 
 
 Keith & Proctor, Operatic and Theatrical Managers. 
 
 Bradhurst & Currie, Operatic and Theatrical Managers. 
 
 Fisher & Rylie, Operatic and Theatrical Managers. 
 
 Hurtig & Seamon, Operatic and Theatrical Managers. 
 
 Wm. Brady, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 Geo. Lederer, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 Sam Harris, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 F. L. Pearley, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 F. Ziegfeld, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 Geo. Ade, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 Whitney, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 Liebler, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 Aborn, Operatic and Theatrical Manager. 
 
 W. Ashland, Manager the Witmark's Agency Department. 
 
 Webster Cullison, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Philip Watkins, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 F. C. Palmer, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 W. J. Plimmer, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 J. J. Armstrong, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Frank Melville, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Arthur W. Tams, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Matt Graw, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Frank Forrester, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Austin Davis, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Wm. Morris, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Robert Graw, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Henry Wolfsohn, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 B. Packard, Theatrical Agent. 
 
 Mrs. Austin Davis. 
 
 Miss Mabelle Texas. 
 
 Miss Grace Proctor. 
 
 Miss Beatrice Phelps. 
 
 James Irby, Mr. Flagg's rent collector. 
 
 Wm. Young, Mr. Flagg's rent collector. 
 
 Ilma Salter, the first young woman ever placed on the stage by 
 
 Mr. Flagg. 
 Mrs. Salter, llma*s mother. 
 Ed. L. Schiller, Stock Broker. 
 Wm. B. Reed, Jr., Stock Broker. 
 Henry A. Jackson, Stock Broker. 
 J. Baumann, Furniture Dealer. 
 Mr. Fisher, Furniture Dealer. 
 Ludwig Baumann, Furniture Dealer. 
 Sam Manges, Furniture Dealer. 
 Moses Manges, Furniture Dealer. 
 
 xiii 
 
Daniel Farrell, Furniture Dealer. 
 Henry Mannes, Furniture Dealer. 
 Henry Thousen, Furniture Dealer. 
 John Dowd, Watchman. 
 Father Ducey. 
 Rev. J. A. B. Wilson. 
 
 Charlotte Smith, President of the fake Woman's Rescue League. 
 Lawrence G. Goodhart, Attorney for the fake W Oman's Rescue 
 League. 
 
 Helen Arthur, Attorney for the Woman's Municipal League. 
 
 Miss Burt, friend of Charlotte Smith. 
 
 Bertha Claiche, the "white slave girl." 
 
 Geo. W. Miner, Commissioner of Deeds. 
 
 Louise Fink, honest working girl. 
 
 Maggie Smith, honest working girl. 
 
 Anna Chapman, honest working girl. 
 
 Addie Smith, honest working girl. 
 
 Josephine Merritt, honest working girl. 
 
 Lizzie Gregory, honest working girl. 
 
 City Marshal James M. Gano. 
 
 Mayor Wm. J. Gaynor. 
 
 Geo. D. Smith and 
 
 Jared Flagg. 
 
JARED FLAGG 
 
 A SNAPSHOT 
 1910 
 
FLAGG'S FLATS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 It is dangerous for a person to have an idea. 
 There is no telling where a man with an idea 
 may land. I once had an idea and it landed 
 me in the Tombs. 
 
 It occurred to me that the majority of the 
 people were honest, and if the installment fur- 
 niture dealers were willing to trust their cus- 
 tomers with ninety per cent of the face value 
 of the goods purchased, it would be safe to 
 trust them with the entire one hundred per 
 cent. In other words, if it were policy to sell 
 and deliver one hundred dollars' worth of fur- 
 niture on a payment down of ten dollars and 
 take chances on collecting the remaining 
 ninety in weekly payments, it would be feas- 
 ible to sell one hundred dollars' worth, or 
 more, without demanding the customary ten 
 
 i 
 
per cent deposit prior to the delivery of the 
 goods. The first large advance payment 
 should be eliminated and the entire bill liqui- 
 dated by small weekly payments. 
 
 This was my idea and I imparted it to Mr. 
 Jacob Baumann, of J. & S. Baumann, furni- 
 ture dealers. 
 
 At first Mr. Baumann did not seem to take 
 kindly to it. "It had never been tried — would 
 be risky," etc. But when a person has nothing 
 to risk and everything to gain he can talk 
 impressively, and I impressed upon him the 
 profits he could make. I explained how the 
 system in vogue tended to work a hardship, 
 especially on young engaged couples; "it was 
 deterring many from marrying; it was not so 
 much the inflated installment price, as it was 
 the large advance payment exacted at a time 
 when it was most difficult for the purchaser 
 to spare the money because of the multiplicity 
 of expenditures incidental to starting house- 
 keeping." Therefore I maintained that the 
 installment dealer who had the foresight to 
 appreciate the value of my idea, and the cour- 
 age to adopt it, would reap a reward. 
 
 "If you are so sanguine it can be worked 
 without loss," said Mr. Baumann, "you ad- 
 
vance to us the first ten per cent and we will 
 then fill orders for any one you may introduce, 
 provided we are satisfied with his references; 
 and after we have collected an amount equal 
 to the amount advanced by you, we will re- 
 fund it to you; but if any of your customers 
 skip with the goods, or return them before we 
 have collected the first ten per cent of the bill, 
 you will forfeit the ten per cent which you 
 advanced to us ; agree to this and we will agree 
 to pay you a commission of ten per cent on all 
 moneys collected from your customers." 
 
 A contract to this effect was signed, and al- 
 though I may have felt a trifle ticklish in 
 assuming a risk I had urged another to assume 
 on the ground that it was no risk, nevertheless 
 I lost no time in beginning operations. An 
 advertisement appeared in the daily papers; 
 and those desiring to furnish homes on the 
 installment plan, without making a payment 
 down, were invited to call at my office. 
 
 A young gentleman called, one about to be 
 married. He knew of a flat that suited them. 
 The landlord would give the balance of the 
 first month's rent free, but demanded the sec- 
 ond month's rent, cash in advance before giv- 
 ing possession; the gas trust required a cash 
 
deposit before turning on the gas; the minister 
 expected his fee to be paid spot cash, and 
 would prefer it in gold; every one wanted 
 cash down except Mr. Flagg; and this was 
 why he had called. He estimated that the 
 flat could be furnished for one hundred and 
 fifty dollars, but Mr. Flagg, "an experienced 
 furniture man, would know best." Mr. Flagg 
 knew nothing. It depended on the young 
 woman, his intended; if she had ideas, that is, 
 if she possessed good or bad taste, there was 
 no computing in advance what it might cost. 
 "Anything that suits me will suit Elphye," he 
 said; but the next day, at the store, it proved 
 to be the reverse, and everything that suited 
 Elphye suited him. Consequently with El- 
 phye's notions of what might "look cute," and 
 the extras, and installment prices, which in- 
 cluded my commission, the bill amounted to 
 three hundred and fifty dollars, about twice 
 the amount calculated. Still, as the weekly 
 payments were to be moderate, a chattel mort- 
 gage was signed; and his references were 
 looked up; and as they proved to be satisfac- 
 tory I was called upon, as per agreement, to 
 deposit with the firm ten per cent of the bill — 
 thirty-five dollars. 
 
 4 
 
Now it so happened, at this particular time, 
 although I may have looked like "ready cash" 
 I was pinched financially, my available cap- 
 ital being only a trifle over three hundred dol- 
 lars, but I was willing to stake it on my idea, 
 and did, and what was more, I won out. 
 
 My advertisements drew; the "no cash 
 down" proposition touched the public in a 
 tender spot; the people came and at the close 
 of the first week my sales had reached the 
 three thousand dollar mark, therefore my 
 profits for the first six days were ten per cent 
 of the three thousand dollars — three hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 My idea had surprised me. A profit of 
 three hundred dollars in one week? It seemed 
 incredible. The only trouble was it was paper 
 profit. I could see no cash, not even a small 
 balance; my available capital was gone; it 
 was "up" as security "in the firm's" bank, and 
 owing to the long-winded nature of the busi- 
 ness, was likely to remain there for some time 
 to come. 
 
 If a business man cannot pay with checks, 
 he should pay with notes. No man is too poor 
 to draw a note, therefore bright and early the 
 next week I started for the store, armed with 
 
 5 
 
a pocket full of blank notes and several cus- 
 tomers in tow, one of whom, a boarding house 
 keeper, wished to furnish a fourteen- 
 room house. My sales that day — not week — 
 amounted to four thousand dollars; this was 
 making money, but this was my idea. That 
 day I lunched with the members of the firm ; 
 they insisted I should drink the best wines, and 
 smoke the best cigars; they conveyed to my 
 mind that the best was none too good for me, 
 and invited me to make myself comfortable 
 in their innermost private office while the 
 "poor devils" — the fifteen and twenty-dollar- 
 per-week clerks, who never knew what it was 
 to have an idea — waited on my customers. 
 
 At the close of the day Mr. Fisher, the 
 cashier, called my attention to the fact that a 
 note was not a check. Instead of four hun- 
 dred dollars, which would have represented 
 the first payment (ten per cent) to which the 
 firm was entitled on the goods purchased by 
 my customers that day, I had tendered a 
 ninety-day note. "This was not in accordance 
 with the agreement," Mr. Fisher said; "I am 
 not authorized to accept it, the firm will have 
 to be consulted." Whereupon I did the con- 
 sulting, and the firm did the authorizing, and 
 
 6 
 
the cashier accepted the note. The next day, 
 without being authorized, he accepted an- 
 other, and kept accepting them. And when I 
 intimated to the firm that I lacked the where- 
 withal to pay for my furniture advertisements, 
 I was told to draw a note and present it to the 
 cashier, Mr. Fisher; and when I saw the cash 
 and counted it, and stowed it away in my in- 
 side pocket, it commenced to dawn on me that 
 perhaps, after all, my notes might be better 
 than I thought they were. 
 
 In due course of time the three hundred 
 dollars original capital came back, and then 
 by degrees as new notes were "floated," old 
 ones were redeemed, until at last the real, not 
 the paper, profits commenced to flow in my 
 direction. It had taken time, but when they 
 once commenced to come, they came. Faster 
 and faster and larger and larger as the months 
 rolled by — one year, two years, three years, 
 and still they came. It was not only the Bau- 
 mann firm now, but five other firms as well, 
 Manges Brothers, Henry Thousen & Com- 
 pany, D. O'Farrell & Company, H. Mannes 
 & Sons, and Moses Manges & Company, that 
 were contributing to my bank account. One 
 of these other firms — Henry Thousen & Com- 
 
 7 
 
pany — became financially involved, and in 
 lieu of a cash settlement I was constrained to 
 accept my commissions in furniture. Not 
 wishing to slaughter this furniture, by having 
 it sold at auction, or have it "eat itself up" by 
 placing it in storage, I leased and furnished 
 a flat with a view of renting it at a profit. 
 
 This was the beginning — this accident; I 
 did not realize it at the time, but it was the 
 beginning, just the same, of the so-called 
 "Flagg's Flats." Had I only known then 
 what I know now, that little five-room flat, 
 with its porcelain bath-tub and stationary ice- 
 box, would never have been furnished by me 
 — not in a hundred years- And yet there is 
 nothing wrong in furnishing a flat with the 
 view of subletting it at a profit. 
 
 Every human being has the right of habita- 
 tion, just as every human being has the right 
 to eat, but no person has the legal right to 
 use or rent to another an abode to be used for 
 immoral purposes. Knowing this I was par- 
 ticular in procuring a tenant; after which I 
 gave no thought to the matter, simply made 
 an arrangement with the janitor to collect the 
 rent from my sub-tenant and remit proceeds. 
 
 Another year passed and still the people 
 
 8 
 
thronged to my office to purchase furniture 
 without payment down. My fifty-cent ad- 
 vertisements did the work; my business 
 prospered; there was not a cloud on the 
 horizon; even the little imitators, who had 
 from time to time cropped up, with the in- 
 tention of conducting business on the lines 
 adopted by me, had now dropped out and 
 were no longer in evidence. It certainly 
 seemed as if at last I was going to have money; 
 at last was going to experience joy, the same 
 joy that the rich seem to take in making their 
 dearest friends and poorest relatives green 
 with envy. But this seeming happiness — the 
 one ambition of so many — was not in store 
 for me. 
 
 The unexpected happened. 
 
 It so happened that the firm, the original 
 Baumann firm, the members of which had 
 backed me, loaned me money, carried me over 
 the rough places, permitted me to secure them 
 with their own funds by accepting my 
 unendorsed paper as security in lieu of cash, 
 were at this time transacting a stupendous 
 business. My trade, although not to be de- 
 spised, was a bagatelle compared to their own ; 
 but their largest competitor — Ludwig Bau- 
 mann — was not aware of this fact, and at- 
 
 9 
 
tributed the activity of J. & S. Baumann to 
 "that man Flagg." "He is doing it. He is 
 the one. If we allow this thing to con- 
 tinue, in time he will gobble up all the 
 trade in town. We do not approve of the no 
 cash down plan; it's an idiotic idea; suicidal; 
 no person ever heard of selling furniture on 
 such a crazy basis until we heard of Flagg. 
 Flagg has ruined the business, now we will 
 ruin him ; we will give him a dose of his own 
 medicine." This is what they said; and, they 
 certainly made it interesting for me. 
 
 Ingenuity, integrity, sobriety, efficiency, 
 originality, energy and ability often count 
 as nothing compared to capital. This rival 
 firm possessed capital, and with it could crush 
 and drive me from the field as easily as I had 
 crushed others — little impecunious competi- 
 tors who had essayed to interfere with my 
 business. 
 
 The first gun, or rather broadside, was fired 
 February 25, 1890; and from that day till this, 
 in their particular line of endeavor I cannot 
 say I have been a factor. Metaphorically speak- 
 ing, I was blown so high that the installment 
 furniture men of New York City have as yet 
 been unable to recover even a fragment, and 
 have probably long ere this become reconciled 
 
 10 
 
to the fact that I am lost to them forever. On 
 that memorable day, this rival firm, Ludwig 
 Baumann & Company, bought a full page in 
 all the leading city and nearby country news- 
 papers, and in flaring type announced to the 
 world that they would henceforth sell furni- 
 ture on the longest credit and WITHOUT A PAY- 
 MENT DOWN. 
 
 The other firm, my friends, J. & S. Bau- 
 mann, did not wish to join in the fight and 
 thereby aid in putting me out of business, but 
 asked if I could afford to expend in adver- 
 tising five hundred dollars a day. Self-pres- 
 ervation is the first law of nature, and in jus- 
 tice to themselves they would have to strike 
 back. There was to be war; thousands were 
 to be squandered in advertising those three 
 little words, "No money down." 
 
 A fifty-cent "advertisement" is no match 
 for a five-hundred-dollar "advertisement." 
 And so it came to pass at the expiration of four 
 years I, who had revolutionized (at least for 
 the time being) the installment business of the 
 city, suddenly found myself forced out, swal- 
 lowed up, as it were, just as big fish swallow 
 little fish. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, I was not a bank- 
 
 ii 
 
rupt. Had I at this crucial moment been 
 stranded high and dry without a dollar, how 
 different it all might have been; how different 
 my life; how brilliant a future I might have 
 had! My reputation at that time was intact; 
 my relatives had not been humiliated, and I 
 had not been forever "damned" by prison bars. 
 But fate was against me; thousands were still 
 to be placed to my credit. Those three potent 
 words, which meant so much to the poor, had 
 paid a profit. How was I to invest this profit? 
 Every installment firm with which I had been 
 associated was in my debt. The money came 
 to them from my customers in driblets. At 
 stated intervals settlements were made and I 
 received, according to agreement, commissions 
 to date on moneys collected. The firms would 
 seize no furniture, would foreclose no mort- 
 gages, if the buyers showed a disposition to 
 make any kind of payments, however small; 
 therefore bills which should be liquidated in 
 one or two years might drag on four or five 
 years, and it was going to be a long wait. 
 
 Things that heretofore had been luxuries 
 to me had now become necessities, and if I 
 waited for my commissions to come in they 
 might go as fast as they came. On the other 
 
 12 
 
hand, if in lieu of cash commissions I would 
 agree to accept furniture, every firm with 
 which I had been associated would settle with 
 me on the spot. And by utilizing this furni- 
 ture in flats I could derive an immediate and 
 large revenue. 
 
 We usually do that which we deem to be 
 best under existing conditions, and in the light 
 of the excellent showing made by the original 
 five-room flat — the accident — it seemed best 
 for me to place myself in a position where I 
 could have a permanent income, derived from 
 my principal, rather than to live on my prin- 
 cipal. This original flat, after making an 
 allowance for wear and tear and vacancies, 
 had paid an average profit of four dollars per 
 week, during a period of fifty-two weeks. In 
 renting it I happened to find tenants in all 
 respects desirable, and it was owing to this 
 misfortune that my calculations miscarried. 
 Had I leased it to a tenant capable of paying 
 the first month's rent and "sticking" me for the 
 next two, and if, after being put to the trouble 
 of dispossessing him, I had had the good for- 
 tune to find another, capable of creating such 
 a disturbance that the owner of the property 
 would have felt it incumbent upon himself to 
 
 13 
 
have dispossessed me, I might then have been 
 able to form a more conservative estimate of 
 the ultimate net profits of the business; but 
 as it was I allowed myself to be duped by 
 myself and based my figures on the actual cash 
 showing that this original flat had made. I 
 said to myself, "If one furnished flat will yield 
 a profit of four dollars a week, one hundred 
 will yield one hundred times as much — 
 four hundred dollars per week. "And it 
 was not many weeks before I had one hundred 
 Hats furnished and in operation. The furni- 
 ture firms then owed me nothing, and if I had 
 stopped right there, I might have made a suc- 
 cess of the flat business, but like many others 
 I did not become conservative until it was too 
 late. I did not appreciate the fact that my 
 business was running smoothly, well in hand, 
 and every detail carefully looked after; nor 
 did I stop to consider my experience in the 
 business was as yet limited, and there might 
 be pitfalls unknown to me; I thought I knew 
 it all and so staked all, jeopardized a small 
 certainty for a large uncertainty. 
 
 Ambition ruins more men than it makes. I 
 was ambitious and wanted an income of one 
 hundred thousand dollars a year. If one hun- 
 
 14 
 
dred flats could be made to pay a profit of four 
 hundred dollars a week, five hundred could 
 be made to pay five times as much, and five 
 times four hundred are two thousand. Two 
 thousand dollars in one week would amount 
 in round numbers, to one hundred thousand 
 dollars in one year. These were my figures 
 and they looked pretty on paper; figures usu- 
 ally look better on paper than in real life. 
 However, figures or no figures, correct or in- 
 correct, the fact remained that the furniture 
 firms which I had trusted were willing to 
 trust me, and I could think of no reason why 
 I should not permit them to do so. With 
 money, money is made. Why not use a little 
 of their money? Why not within five years 
 have five hundred flats all paying a profit? 
 These were the questions I put to myself, and 
 this is what I attempted to accomplish. It 
 was an undertaking, but I felt it could be car- 
 ried through, and even when I encountered 
 innumerable and seemingly insurmountable 
 obstacles I paid no attention to them, and 
 pressed straight ahead; and at the end of five 
 years from the day I embarked in the flat busi- 
 ness, I had, by actual count, four hundred and 
 eighty-eight flats, daintily furnished and 
 
 is 
 
equipped to the most minute detail; pictures, 
 linen, silver, china, cooking utensils and all. 
 
 To facilitate business I ran an upholster- 
 ing shop, a carpet cleaning establishment, a 
 crockery and tin-pan store, and a laundry in 
 which three thousand of my sheets were 
 washed each week. I employed bookkeepers, 
 collectors, janitors, night watchmen, scrub 
 women, painters, paper hangers and plumbers, 
 by the year. Also a bed-bug gang — the only 
 one of its kind, probably, ever organized in 
 the United States. 
 
 About this time my business commenced to 
 attract attention. Everyone, it seemed, had 
 heard of the "Flagg Flats." And visitors to 
 New York, from all parts of the world, occu- 
 pied and kept house in them rather than 
 pay hotel rates. As a result money flowed 
 into my office like water, but it also flowed 
 out. Real estate agents and owners of flat 
 property entreated me to buy. They told me 
 to name my terms and I named them. And 
 in the "Hall of Records" of the City and 
 County of New York, the books show that on 
 May i, 1894, I held title (in addition to my 
 leased flats) to over six hundred thousand dol- 
 lars' worth of flat property, which I was pay- 
 
 16 
 
ing for in monthly installments. All my 
 buildings were located between Fifteenth and 
 Fifty-eighth streets and Eighth and Lexing- 
 ton avenues, and during recent years have 
 advanced enormously in value. I would have 
 held them all, and ultimately have owned 
 them free and clear, had not the police mani- 
 tested a disposition to go into business with me. 
 To this I OBJECTED. I told Captain J. J. 
 Donohue, of the West Twentieth street police 
 station, and Captain James K. Price, of the 
 West Thirty-seventh street police station, 
 
 and Captain Martins, of the West 
 
 Thirtieth street police station, that if I were 
 a person who would engage in a disreputable 
 business, I could see some object in tak- 
 ing them into partnership with me, but as I 
 was not one of that kind, and was conducting a 
 lawful business, renting flats to respectable 
 people, I could see no object in sharing profits 
 with them. 
 
 In confirmation of this assertion I here 
 quote from the Court Records of my trial 
 (which will be described in the following 
 chapters) : "Captain Donohue wanted from 
 me one hundred a month and I told him I 
 would not give it to him (this was before I 
 
 17 
 
was indicted), and McConville came to me 
 (after I was indicted), and told me that I 
 was a fool and standing in my own light; that 
 if I would arrange with the Captain substan- 
 tially I could be protected, and I said, 'I'll 
 give you nothing; I am engaged in a lawful 
 business, and I will give you or your Captain 
 nothing.' " 
 
 This statement was made by me in an open 
 Court of Law, when upon the witness stand 
 and testifying under oath; and the statement 
 stood uncontradicted to the very end of my 
 trial, as I shall show hereafter by extracts 
 from the Court Records. 
 
 I was firm because I believe my position 
 impregnable. From the start I had been ani- 
 mated by a desire to succeed; I had not been 
 conducting business for the purpose of de- 
 stroying myself; and, aside from all right or 
 wrong, I knew that one disreputable tenant 
 might drive ten reputable ones out; so could 
 not, on this account, if for no other reason, 
 afford to have such in my buildings. 
 
 Every superintendent and janitor I had, 
 subsequently, at my trial, testified under oath 
 that I had given orders to dispossess, at any 
 cost, and as quickly as the law would allow, 
 
 iS 
 
any questionable characters who might from 
 time to time gain admittance. My jury heard 
 this and other evidence bearing on the subject, 
 and was convinced that it was not my intention 
 to rent to disreputable persons, and so ac- 
 quitted me of the charge that I knowingly 
 rented flats to be used for immoral purposes. 
 
 It is not the act, it is the intention. Was it 
 my intention to bring notoriety on my relatives 
 and myself? This is the question; and those 
 who were affected, those who were incensed, 
 should have answered this question before 
 passing censure. They should have taken into 
 consideration my intentions, should have 
 weighed the circumstances; and my object in 
 having explained at length all the circum- 
 stances, all the occurrences leading up to, and 
 which influenced me to embark in the fur- 
 nished flat business, is to refute the claim ad- 
 vanced by so many that I intentionally engaged 
 in the business for the sole purpose of renting 
 flats to be used for immoral purposes. 
 
 Even in recent years, years after having 
 been acquitted (by a duly impanelled jury of 
 my peers) of this offense, certain newspapers, 
 despite the verdict of this jury, despite the 
 
 19 
 
Court Records, have published that 1 was 
 adjudged guilty of the infamous charge. And 
 many persons who read newspapers, but do 
 not read Court Records believe me a vicious 
 character. The police, however, not only the 
 blackmailing, but also the honest members of 
 the force, know the truth. Ex-Police Com- 
 missioner Parker, Chief of Police Moses W. 
 Cortright, Inspector Schmittberger, Ex- Police 
 Captain Chapman, Central Office Detective 
 Mason, and other honest members, have said 
 (in words chosen from their own vocabulary) 
 that it was "handed out to me" when I did not 
 deserve it. And even the dishonest members of 
 the force have more than once been heard to 
 say that they would not have gone so far had I 
 not shown so much fight. They wanted to be 
 friendly and said so; they did not want law; 
 they were not looking for trouble; they were 
 looking for money, and imagined I would 
 scare at the sight of gold shields and brass but- 
 tons, and disgorge as others had disgorged. 
 Such a thing as subjecting me, or of placing 
 themselves, in a position to stand trial, did not 
 at the outset enter their heads ; but, later, when 
 it dawned on them that they had encountered 
 a man who would abide by his decision re- 
 
gardless of any consequences that might come 
 by so doing, they assumed a different attitude ; 
 and it was then — not at the beginning — that I 
 was given to understand, in language more 
 potent than polished, that I could take the 
 consequences. 
 I took them. 
 
 Two days after I was told that I could take 
 the consequences; two days after the final 
 warning; after their final blackmailing de- 
 mand, Police Captain J. J. Donohue, and his 
 emissary, Officer Barnard McConville, on ex 
 parte evidence — which is no evidence at all — 
 secured an indictment against me. 
 
 I quote the words of my lawyer — the late 
 Chas. W. Brooke — when addressing the 
 Court: ["That was the 23d day of May, and 
 on the 25th day of May these two people alone, 
 for they did not take a neighbor — the law re- 
 quires that the indictment shall contain the 
 endorsement of the names of all the witnesses 
 examined before the Grand Jury — they did 
 not invoke the aid of anybody, but Donohue 
 and McConville alone, two days after the 
 refusal of Flagg to submit to their demands, 
 went before the Grand Jury and on ex parte 
 evidence procured this indictment."] 
 
 21 
 
What is a Grand Jury? What is an indict- 
 ment? What is ex parte evidence? Webster's 
 Dictionary defines a Grand Jury as a jury to 
 decide whether the person accused is to be put 
 on trial. If the members of a Grand Jury 
 decide that an accused person shall be put to 
 trial they issue a legal document called an 
 indictment against the accused person. If be- 
 fore issuing this indictment they wish to hear 
 both sides of the story they have the privilege 
 of sending for the accused person and hearing 
 what he has to say on the subject. But they 
 did not send for me; they did not hear what I 
 had to say on the subject; they simply indicted 
 me on what is called ex parte evidence. 
 
 The definition of ex parte, according to 
 Webster's Dictionary, is "one part"; that 
 which is brought forward as evidence by one 
 side only. And it was on such evidence that 
 I was indicted. 
 
 Captain Donohue did the swearing, and his 
 "right-hand man," McConville, did the cor- 
 roborating. This swearing occurred two days 
 after I had been warned that I could abide 
 the consequences. Two days after that warn- 
 ing Donohue, who at the time had never been 
 in one of my flats, and was not acquainted with 
 
 22 
 
a single one of my tenants, testified under oath, 
 before all the members of the Grand Jury, 
 that of his own personal knowledge he knew 
 my tenants were immoral and knew I knew it. 
 
 What do you think of that for ex parte evi- 
 dence? And his confidential man, Officer 
 McConville, who at the time did not even 
 know me, and subsequently swore under oath 
 that he did not know me, and, to the best of 
 his knowledge and belief, had never seen me 
 prior to May 31, 1894, nevertheless, on May 
 25, 1894 — six days before he had, accord- 
 ing to his sworn testimony, first seen me — 
 went before the Grand Jury and, to make 
 himself solid with his superior officer, 
 Donohue, placed his hand on the Bible and 
 swore he did know me. In other words, 
 he first swears he knows a certain person he 
 does not know; subsequently he swears he does 
 not know a certain person he does know; and 
 each time the Grand Jury called this cor- 
 roborative evidence. 
 
 I quote from the Court stenographer's 
 minutes: ["On the 25th day of May, 1894, 
 McConville went before the Grand Jury and 
 swore to this indictment against Flagg. Mc- 
 Conville then comes before this jury and 
 
 23 
 
swears he never saw Flagg in his life until the 
 31st day of May, 1894. He swears that he 
 was one of the witnesses before the Grand 
 Jury upon whose testimony this indictment on 
 the 25th day of May was found; and he 
 swears before you thereafter in his direct ex- 
 amination, and swears to it again three times in 
 his cross-examination, that he never saw Flagg 
 in his life until the 31st day of May, 1894."] 
 
 When it comes to perjury there may be 
 those in the "department" who can equal 
 "Barney" McConville, the ex-truck-driver, 
 but they cannot beat him. 
 
 The records of the Grand Jury room also 
 show this is what happened; the indictment is 
 still there; and if ever there was a travesty on 
 justice this is it. 
 
 But what does a newspaper reporter or 
 "space-writer" care for justice? All indict- 
 ments look alike to them. So long as it was 
 an indictment it was news. News to a "space- 
 writer" means money, and in head-line letters 
 it was announced to the public that "FLAGG 
 IS INDICTED." How, and by what means ; 
 whether by ex parte evidence, whether by per- 
 jured testimony or honest testimony, they did 
 not state, and did not care. 
 
 24 
 
The law says that every person charged 
 with a crime or an offense is entitled to appear 
 before a committing magistrate and to con- 
 front his accusers. But was I accorded any 
 such right? I was not. These blackmailers 
 knew their business too well; they knew it 
 would not be conducive to their interests to let 
 me tell my side of the story; that might upset 
 their plans altogether; so they cut off my 
 chance to be heard, and had me indicted with- 
 out a hearing. 
 
 I quote from my lawyer's opening address : 
 — [ u The constitutional right of every defend- 
 ant — of every man charged with crime — is 
 that he shall meet his accusers face to face; 
 that he shall have the right to cross-examine 
 and examine the witnesses against him. But 
 on the 25th day of May, 1894, in secret, with- 
 out notice to this defendant, without giving 
 him an opportunity to defend himself, two 
 police officers get access to the Grand Jury. 
 You have preliminary magistrates. The law 
 says that every man who is arrested is entitled 
 to an examination. This is his constitutional 
 right under the statute, and of this right, this 
 defendant, Jared Flagg, WAS ROBBED.*"] 
 
 But the newspapers made no mention of this 
 
 25 
 
little act of thievery. They simply informed 
 the public that a true bill had been found 
 against me; and this was sufficient. This was 
 enough to make my social acquaintances, my 
 business acquaintances, my "fair-weather 
 friends'' and many of my relatives look upon 
 me askance. Had they known the truth they 
 might have looked at the matter in a different 
 light; but barring Donohue and McConville 
 no one knew the truth. No one at that time 
 knew the indictment was putrid to the core 
 except these two — Donohue and McConville 
 — but they knew and have always known that 
 if ever they attempted to press it for trial, 
 they would both be jailed as perjurers. And 
 they have taken mighty good care not to let 
 it be brought to trial. As a matter of fact, it 
 never was, and never will be tried ; it was only 
 a trick to blight my reputation and place me 
 at their mercy. 
 
 I quote from my lawyer's opening address: 
 — ["Now they say, now Mr. Flagg is indicted ; 
 now, we have not given him a chance even for 
 an examination. We have cut off his right to 
 prove his innocence before the preliminary 
 magistrate. We could not meet this gentle- 
 man and make this charge in open court, 
 
 26 
 
where he could have the opportunity to 
 cross-examine us, but in this surreptitious man- 
 ner we have secured the indictment. He has 
 asserted that he is not guilty, and that puts us 
 in the attitude of responsibility to meet him 
 upon the trial of that issue. So, although he 
 pleaded not guilty on June i, 1894, the indict- 
 ment thus found, from that day to this, almost 
 two years, despite the repeated demands of 
 this defendant, this accused, to be brought to 
 trial, was never tried. That is the Record 
 upon its face."] 
 
 It is difficult for any person, not a member 
 of Tammany Hall, to comprehend the deprav- 
 ity which exists in the police department of 
 the City of New York. We clothe our offi- 
 cers with great power, and the corrupt 
 ones abuse that power. We enact idiotic laws 
 relating to adult prostitution which are of no 
 value to us, but invaluable to them for black- 
 mailing purposes. Under these circumstances 
 is it surprising that these uniformed thieves, 
 who had been baffled in their first attempt to 
 rob me, should become solicitous as to the 
 chastity of my tenants? 
 
 With this indictment for a club they now 
 
 27 
 
had me in their clutches and could demon- 
 strate to me the terror of my position, which 
 they straightway did by having me arrested, 
 not as they ordinarily would have arrested one 
 charged with misdemeanor (as I was) but as 
 a felon, or some treacherous desperado. 
 
 I quote from my lawyer's opening address: 
 — ["And what did they now do? What in- 
 strument of torture did they invoke? A prison 
 cell. They want to reduce him to the ig- 
 nominy of a jail. They think that will tame 
 his pride. Their little police malignity sug- 
 gests that to put Mr. Flagg in jail will be the 
 way to teach him the horrors of his position ; 
 so in order to do that, Mr. Flagg, who gets his 
 first notice of these things as they come on, 
 finds that the bail upon these misdemeanors is 
 fixed at seven thousand five hundred dollars 
 each."] 
 
 And yet I was accused only of a misde- 
 meanor. Does the reader know what a mis- 
 demeanor is? If any person opens a letter 
 and throws the envelope on the sidewalk he 
 commits a misdemeanor. If he smokes a 
 cigar in a public conveyance he commits a mis- 
 demeanor. If he has a dispute and uses loud 
 
 28 
 
language he commits a misdemeanor. Or if 
 he happens to be a landlord, and has a tenant 
 who is in the habit of singing too loudly, after 
 ten p. m. (although he may know nothing of 
 it at the time), he, as landlord, can be charged 
 with a misdemeanor, for "maintaining a nui- 
 sance," and convicted ; the extreme penalty for 
 which is a fine of five hundred dollars or im- 
 prisonment for one year in the county jail, 
 or both, in the discretion of the Court. This 
 is what I was charged with and convicted of. 
 The endorsement on the indictment upon 
 which I was tried reads, "Guilty on second 
 count for maintaining a nuisance"; and this 
 is the only thing I ever was convicted of, ex- 
 actly this and nothing more, as the Records 
 prove. 
 
 And yet Officers Rohrig and McConville 
 suddenly appeared in my private office, then 
 located at No. 242 West Twenty-third street, 
 and the first thing that I knew I was hand- 
 cuffed to them and being marched through 
 the streets, followed by a small army of peo- 
 ple. 
 
 Did they shackle me with irons because they 
 were fearful I might run away, or was it to 
 
 29 
 
add to my abasement in furtherance of their 
 threat that "I could take the consequences" for 
 refusing to pay tribute to them? 
 
 No person who has not been subjected to 
 such an ordeal can realize what it means to be 
 dragged through the public streets hand- 
 cuffed to officers of the law. One may read, 
 guess, imagine, but he cannot understand all 
 such a person suffers. The ignominy, odium 
 and scandal of it all is enough to fill any self- 
 respecting person with abhorrence. I re- 
 spected myself, but was more determined than 
 ever not to submit to their blackmailing de- 
 mands. So, in a few days they had me in- 
 dicted again, and again threw me into a cell; 
 and again indicted me, and again and again. 
 Five indictments — five counts in each — twen- 
 ty-five "cooked up" complaints in all, with 
 bail bonds running high into the thousands. 
 
 I quote the words of my lawyer when ad- 
 dressing the court: — ["Captain Donohue bor- 
 rowed officers to help his officers, from the in- 
 spection district, to be put under his direction ; 
 and he succeeded, on the 21st day of June, in 
 getting another indictment against Flagg. 
 What did they do with this indictment? Did 
 
 30 
 
they ever move it for trial, or did they ever 
 bring Mr. Flagg up to try him? Oh, no! that 
 was not to be their method of procedure. But 
 on the 1 8th day of September, following, they 
 got another indictment. The same witnesses 
 and the same offense. Now they have three in- 
 dictments ; one in May, one in June, and one in 
 September. All secured by the same witnesses, 
 and on the same bogus charges. Two days 
 after the indictment of September 1 8th they 
 caused two more indictments to be procured. 
 
 "This was the 20th of September, 1895. 
 
 "When were these alleged various offenses 
 committed? There is the 21st of June indict- 
 ment. Do you suppose they sent these wit- 
 nesses before the Grand Jury for an offense 
 committed on that day or at that time, the 21st 
 of June? What did they accuse Flagg of at 
 this time? Not with renting premises to be 
 used for immoral purposes, but they charged 
 him, on the 21st of June, with having done 
 that on the 17th day of April. That was the 
 June indictment. They waited until June to 
 charge him with having done that on the 17th 
 day of April. 
 
 "Now let us see the 18th of September in- 
 dictment. On this day they charged him with 
 
 31 
 
having done the same thing on the 23d day of 
 August. Now let us see the two indictments 
 on the 20th day of September. Why is the one 
 not the other? 
 
 "On the 21st of June they charged him with 
 doing this act on the 17th day of April. Now, 
 on the 20th day of September, they go before 
 the Grand Jury and charge him with this act 
 on the 15th day of April. That is, in Septem- 
 ber, they have him indicted for this act which 
 they now charge he committed two days be- 
 fore the date alleged in the indictment of the 
 21st of June. 
 
 "In the indictment which you are trying he 
 is not charged with the commission of the act 
 at the time that the indictment was found ; but 
 they charge him with doing the act alleged on 
 the 22nd day of May. 
 
 "Mr. Flagg would neither be frightened, 
 cajoled, nor driven to compromise, and there- 
 fore in order to reconcile the records against 
 Flagg on the top of the June indictment they 
 hastened up the other three, and so hurriedly 
 did they proceed that they found two of them 
 upon one day."] 
 
 Then it was that the evening newspapers 
 
 32 
 
issued their EXTRAS and that the people "said 
 things." 
 
 . . . "He must be innately wicked, a 
 dangerous character. And only to think" — to 
 repeat the words of Katharina — our old Ger- 
 man nurse, who has lived in the family forty- 
 eight years — "he was such a nice boy, so de- 
 vout. My! My! had I not seen it with my 
 own eyes, in the newspapers, I would not have 
 believed it" ; etc., etc- 
 
 And my every day acquaintances, some of 
 whom forgot they were acquainted with me, 
 also "said things." "We know how the papers 
 can distort the truth ; how they can make white 
 appear black; how they can leave out, add to, 
 and rip a man up the back, and blast his good 
 name in a day; we know all this, but that is not 
 the question; they are pounding him; can we 
 afford to mix in? Can we afford to be seen 
 in his company? If we meet him we will treat 
 him with superficial politeness, but that will 
 be all." And for years thereafter that was all. 
 
 Men strive to retain their social position, 
 and it is only right that they should do so. I 
 knew how they felt, and I felt a delicacy in in- 
 truding my presence upon them, and so, held 
 aloof; not that I was embittered — I was not; I 
 
 33 
 
know how inclined we all are to jump at con- 
 clusions, and how frequently we jump in the 
 wrong direction. 
 
 Those who had turned their backs on me 
 were ignorant of the facts; they had only 
 heard one side, and that was not my side; and 
 although I was anxious to have my side heard 
 the police were equally anxious not to have it 
 heard. I had pleaded "Not guilty" to the in- 
 dictments, and this was equivalent to challeng- 
 ing them to come forward and confront me in 
 a court of law. 
 
 Eight times I had appealed to the District 
 Attorney, and had asked that I might be given 
 an opportunity to vindicate my name. 
 
 I quote from my lawyer's summing up ad- 
 dress : — 
 
 ["On May 25th, 1894, Flagg 1S indicted and 
 the indictment is held over him. Flagg, ac- 
 cording to the sworn testimony, and it was not 
 refuted, comes to the door of this court eight 
 times, to demand that he be tried." 
 
 "Imagine yourself in some such position; 
 you are indicted for an offense concerning 
 which you maintain your innocence. The 
 mere charge is an aspersion against your good 
 name, and yet you are compelled to come to 
 
 34 
 
the court where you are indicted and accused, 
 and beg the officials connected with the admin- 
 istration of the law in that court, to do what? 
 To put you on trial, and you cannot get a trial 
 for nearly two years."] 
 
 I had been accused of almost every crime 
 on the calendar, and was regarded by many, 
 who do not look below the surface of things, 
 with suspicion. But this did not worry the 
 police; and they were inflexible in their deter- 
 mination not to have my case go to trial. If 
 there is any one thing in this wide world that 
 will make a blackmailing policeman wince it 
 is a jury. He recoils from a jury trial as the 
 "Devil would from holy water" ; knowing that 
 his methods are not popular with the people, 
 the thought of being cross-questioned is re- 
 pugnant to him. Therefore the police decided 
 to settle their differences with me out of court 
 in their own way, and without invoking the 
 aid of a jury. 
 
 A meeting to this effect was held in the pri- 
 vate office of the St. James Hotel, at the time 
 located on Broadway, corner of Twenty-sixth 
 street. 
 
 I quote from my lawyer's summing up ad- 
 dress: — ["Richard S. Davenport, a discharged 
 
 35 
 
janitor of Mr. Flagg's. The Davenport affida- 
 vit, made competent under the ruling of the 
 court, in which Davenport says: 'I met Cap- 
 tain Donohue and Captain James K. Price by 
 appointment at the private office in the St. 
 James Hotel, January 15, 1895; and Donohue 
 told me that if I would go to his lawyer and 
 make affidavit that the houses, 225 and 227 
 West Eighteenth street, were disorderly, and 
 that Jared Flagg was personally aware they 
 were being used for such purposes, his lawyer 
 would make it to my interest.' "] 
 
 Davenport was not averse to selling him- 
 self; and after allowing himself to be bought 
 by the police they permitted him to remain 
 with them while they discussed the situation 
 with several detectives who were also present 
 at this meeting. 
 
 A man, like a woman, who will sell himself 
 to one will sell himself to another; and Daven- 
 port, after having sold himself to the police, 
 came over to my side and offered to sell him- 
 self to me. He told me that Captain Price 
 said: 
 
 "To keep on indicting and arresting Flagg is 
 
 36 
 
equivalent to sticking pins in a rhinoceros; no 
 visible effect discernible." 
 
 According to the consensus of opinion that 
 portion of my anatomy designated by them as 
 hide was too thick. And they finally resolved 
 if I was ever to be brought to terms they must 
 change their tactics, and they did. They 
 changed them that very day — the day of the 
 secret conclave which was held in the little 
 back room, the little private office of the St. 
 James Hotel, January 15, 1895. 
 
 37 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 PANDEMONIUM means Hell, and from that 
 time on, January 15, 1895, pandemonium 
 reigned supreme in the so-called u Flagg 
 Flats." 
 
 In this chapter I shall have something to 
 say about police "stool-pigeons," and that those 
 unfamiliar with the term may know what kind 
 of a bird a "stool-pigeon" is I will define him. 
 This I can do without recourse to a dictionary. 
 
 A "stool-pigeon" is a "ward-heeler," a thug, 
 a low down person who for a consideration 
 will do any kind of "dirty work" to accom- 
 modate the police. 
 
 Immediately after this St. James Hotel 
 meeting, gangs of these thugs were employed 
 by the police to invade my vacant flats, and 
 smash dishes, break mirrors, and rip up with 
 sharp knives parlor furniture, cane-seated din- 
 ing chairs, bed spreads, portieres, lace cur- 
 tains, carpets, rugs, mattresses and pillows. 
 
 38 
 
Also to throw tables, chairs, dressers, chif 
 foniers, pictures and ice boxes down the ail 
 shafts. But this was not all ; water pipes wen 
 cut, floors flooded and ceilings ruined. Axe< 
 and hammers were used in demolishing the 
 walls, the paper, the woodwork and enamelec 
 bath tubs. In my Sixteenth and Seventeenth 
 street flat buildings, also at 225 and 227 Wesi 
 Eighteenth street, and 109 and 111 Wesi 
 Thirty-third street, access to the toilets coulc 
 be had from the main halls ; and eighty of these 
 expensive china bowls were broken with ham 
 mers and put out of commission in one night 
 
 Up town, down town, on the East Side anc 
 on the West Side, locks were broken, door< 
 pried open, and furniture and ornaments 
 which had cost me thousands of dollars to buy, 
 were stolen or destroyed by these loafers, who 
 worked under the direction, and protection, 
 and in the presence of our uniformed "guard- 
 ians of the peace" (?). 
 
 It is difficult for the unsophisticated to real- 
 ize how such things can happen in a civilized 
 country, but according to the New York daily 
 papers of April 5th, 1910, it is still going on. 
 
 [The first and second editions of this book 
 were printed in 1909, the third edition in 
 1910.] 
 
 39 
 
April 5th, 1910, the New York World pub- 
 lished the following: — "The Mayor [meaning 
 Mayor Wm. J. Gaynor] then proceeded to 109 
 Mulberry Street, and entered the rooms on 
 the second floor where he found all the fur- 
 niture smashed and even the bottoms of the 
 chairs torn out. The officer told the Mayor 
 that every thing had been destroyed during 
 the recent police raid." 
 
 This kind of work, coupled with the "third 
 degree," is what the police call demonstrating 
 the majesty of the law. 
 
 Once after several of my prettiest flats had 
 been wrecked, I was, without a complaint 
 having been made, or a warrant issued, taken 
 by Detective McConville to the West Twen- 
 tieth street police station house, and escorted 
 one flight up to Captain Donohue's private 
 bedroom. The Captain was waiting for me 
 and after dismissing McConville, and closing 
 the door, requested me to take a seat. For a 
 few moments he eyed me quizzically and then, 
 referring to my wrecked flats, asked how I 
 liked it. 
 
 My reply to this question, although print- 
 able, will detract nothing from the narrative if 
 omitted. Suffice it to say no compromise was 
 
 40 
 
effected and the reign of terror therefore con- 
 tinued. Every building I had, in every part 
 of the city, was infested not only with "stool- 
 pigeons" but by officers in citizen's attire, "fly- 
 cops," as they are called, with orders to "bull- 
 doze" the old tenants out and prevent new ones 
 from entering. In vain I appealed to the 
 different heads of the "Department" for 
 relief; for honest, not dishonest, police pro- 
 tection. Officers high in authority would 
 promise to act vigorously, but it was mostly 
 talk; even when the "sleuths" were called off, 
 it would not be for long, and in a few weeks 
 back they would be at their same old vicious 
 tricks. 
 
 Hundreds of my tenants vacated and the 
 most desirable were the first to leave. Natu- 
 rally this exodus impaired my income; with 
 large payments to make and larger ones com- 
 ing due, I was in dire straits. 
 
 I quote the words of my lawyer in summing 
 up: — ["Flagg's tenants are not only harassed 
 by police 'stool-pigeons,' but by Police Detec- 
 tives McConville, Rohrig, Cohn, Zimmer- 
 man, and several others whose names I cannot 
 at the moment recall, but who have, according 
 to their own testimony, infested his premises 
 
 at 
 
lor months.]" The licensed thieves, the "stool- 
 pigeons," carried skeleton keys and could open 
 almost any door in the "twinkling of an eye." 
 They would not only go from one vacant flat 
 to another, and plunder and steal small arti- 
 cles, but would occasionally back up a truck 
 and cart a load of furniture away in a night. 
 
 Once when John Dowd, a night watchman 
 employed by me, caught four "stool-pigeons" 
 in the act of loading a truck and threatened to 
 shoot them on the spot if they did not replace 
 the furniture in the flat from which it was be- 
 ing removed, two "plain-clothes men" (police- 
 men in citizen's attire) sneaked up from behind 
 and seized and overpowered him, and, with 
 the aid of their friends, the thieves who were 
 about to make away with my furniture, 
 clubbed him almost to a pulp; his head and 
 one of his arms were frightfully cut, and he 
 was literally covered with blood. On the 
 West Twentieth street police station house 
 blotter, opposite his name, are written the 
 words, "Resisted arrest." 
 
 When the police murder an innocent man 
 these are the two words that let them "down 
 and out." The law accords to them the privi- 
 
 42 
 
lege of killing any person who resists arrest, 
 and they assume the privilege of accusing any 
 person of this offense whom they accidentally 
 or on purpose kill. 
 
 John Dowd did not die that night, but I was 
 informed he died shortly thereafter. 
 
 Skeleton keys were also used by the police 
 and the "stool-pigeons, " when in the small 
 hours of the night they would enter my unoc- 
 cupied flats with their prostitutes. It was 
 nothing unusual on arriving at my office in the 
 morning to be informed that in such-and-such 
 a building, and in such-and-such a flat, 
 drunken policemen had caroused half the 
 night with women whom they had brought in 
 from the street. 
 
 On one occasion while passing from room 
 to room, in showing what I supposed was an 
 unoccupied flat to a prospective tenant, she 
 (the prospective tenant) suddenly "let out" a 
 most unearthly scream, and dashed out of the 
 building shouting "Police! Police!" at the top 
 of her voice. There was no necessity for call- 
 ing an officer, as there was already one in the 
 flat and in bed. 
 
 At another time (also in broad daylight) 
 two policemen and a young woman slipped in 
 
 A3 
 
through the basement door of my flat building, 
 No. 123 West Fifty-sixth street, and, although 
 they ran into the arms of my janitress, they 
 brushed her aside and deliberately took posses- 
 sion of a rear flat on the ground floor. Imme- 
 diately upon receiving this information I com- 
 municated with Police Headquarters, and a 
 special officer was detailed to make an in- 
 vestigation. Together we hurried to the flat 
 and there they were "big as life," with their 
 helmets off, making themselves comfortable, 
 in my most comfortable upholstered chairs, 
 and "loading up" with whisky. They were 
 not, however, so heavily "loaded" as to be in- 
 capable of recognizing their brother officer, 
 the "investigator"; and, without standing on 
 ceremony, offered him the bottle. Had he re- 
 fused I might have been surprised; but was 
 there ever a case on record where a police offi- 
 1 cer, behind a closed door, declined to accept a 
 drink? He simply smacked his lips, closed 
 his eyes, and remarked that it was "hot stuff." 
 So what was the use of complaining? First 
 there were two, now there were three; and 
 had I complained again there might have been 
 four officers drinking in my flat. 
 
 The police stand together; they are obliged 
 
 44 
 
to do so for self-protection. What one says 
 the others will swear to ; and any citizen who 
 undertakes to fight them will have a job. 
 Were I going all through it again I would 
 know better. Law or no law, I would not op- 
 pose them but would, without a murmur, 
 throw up my hands and let them rob me. The 
 law says it is as much of a crime to give a bribe 
 as to accept one, yet if waylaid by a highway- 
 man a citizen violates no law if he deems it the 
 part of discretion to part with his pocket book 
 rather than his life, so why make him amen- 
 able to the law if he deems it the part of dis- 
 cretion to part with his money rather than his 
 good name? Had I ignored the law and 
 parted with my money, or even a part of it, I 
 would not have parted with my good name. 
 
 When a person knows, in his own heart and 
 soul, that he has done the right thing, he re- 
 spects himself and may say to himself that he 
 cares nothing for the sneers of those who con- 
 demn him without investigating, but he DOES 
 care. 
 
 When a person knows, in his own heart and 
 soul, that he is the only one who respects him- 
 self, it is poor consolation. And when I look 
 around and try to discover the whereabouts of 
 
 45 
 
some one of the few who may respect me, and 
 when I think of all the "mud" which has been 
 thrown at me, and realize how difficult the 
 "going" is in this mud — to say nothing of how 
 it has annoyed and bespattered those near to 
 me, I am frank to admit that were I to live this 
 portion of my life over I would think a long 
 time before sacrificing wealth, position and 
 the esteem of my fellow-beings upon the altar 
 of principle. 
 
 A good name once gone is generally gone 
 forever. This talk of "living it down" is 
 often a delusion and a snare. We are too 
 busy, have too many business and social 
 functions to perform, and too many 
 troubles of our own to waste time in in- 
 vestigating the troubles of another. Yet if an- 
 other is being maligned, somehow or other we 
 all manage to find time to listen ; and as we are 
 all more prone to believe evil of one than good, 
 many believe evil of me. They do not know, 
 but they believe. When "pinned down" and 
 asked why they believe, they can advance no 
 palpable reason; but they can talk, and this is 
 how they talk: "Flagg? What Flagg— Jared? 
 Ohl excuse me. He never wronged me — no, 
 not me nor any person with whom I am ac- 
 
 46 
 
quainted; but I have heard so much; you 
 know how people talk; and I have read so 
 much — no, I cannot recall just what; but have 
 often seen his name in print, and I know 
 years ago he had trouble with the police." 
 
 A police officer inspires the average New 
 York citizen with veneration. In the eyes of 
 many he is more than man, superhuman, and 
 to be approached on hands and knees. There- 
 fore in the opinion of the masses any person 
 who has incurred his wrath, should be for- 
 ever damned. 
 
 All policemen are not, however, devoid of 
 honor. It would be strange if out of such a 
 large body of men some honest ones could not 
 be found. But this does not alter the fact that 
 many violate their oath of office for personal 
 gain. Having men of this stamp with whom 
 to contend, the question may arise why I re- 
 mained in the flat business. Why did I not seJl 
 out and be forever rid of the whole sickening 
 mess? But I could not sell ; to sell meant ruin- 
 ation ; I was in too deeply, and could not turn 
 back. My only hope was to go ahead. A 
 person who has saved a few thousand dollars 
 thinks as much of it and strives as hard 
 not to lose it as the person who has accu- 
 mulated many thousand. It's his all, and 
 
 47 
 
my all was invested in furniture and flat prop- 
 erty, so heavily encumbered, however, that to 
 force a sale would result in losing all. This 
 was my position, and the police appreciating 
 the dilemma in which I was placed redoubled 
 their efforts; and, to still further hamper me, 
 warned every owner of every building in 
 which I had a flat furnished to dispossess me, 
 under penalty of arrest. There were about 
 one hundred of these odd flats, not owned by 
 me but leased and furnished by me, and every 
 landlord I had, with the exception of Mr. 
 Reeder, dispossessed me. 
 
 These were squally times, and it seemed now 
 as if it would only be a question of time before 
 my own bed would be placed on the sidewalk. 
 And, yet, in justice to my fellow beings, I 
 must confess that there never was a time, 
 not even when things looked their dark- 
 est, not even when it seemed as if the whole 
 world was going to turn against me, there 
 never was a time that some one — a woman, 
 a man, or some one — did not come forward, 
 did not take me by the hand and display traits 
 so noble that I could not, and did not, even for 
 one moment, lose confidence in mankind. 
 
 Mr. Reeder took me by the hand and said: 
 "I shall not dispossess you." 
 
Gilbert Totten Reeder stands high in the 
 community. He is a man of integrity; this is 
 his reputation, and he values it, but rather than 
 do a dishonorable act, rather than sacrifice his 
 honor, he would part with his good reputation. 
 
 And he told Captain Pickett, of the West 
 Thirtieth street police station house to go ahead 
 and arrest. "Arrest us both," he said. But 
 Pickett thought better of it. If he locked Mr. 
 Reeder up it might lead to complications, and 
 so he failed to make good his bluff. But other 
 police captains bulldozed other landlords. 
 They also threatened and warned every janitor 
 I had, every clerk I had, and every mechanic I 
 had, under penalty of being sent to the "Isl- 
 and," to quit my employ. They quit — all quit 
 — with the exception of two rent collectors, 
 James Irby and William Young, both of whom 
 had been in my employ five years. Both said 
 they would stand by me until the "last gun was 
 fired" ; but after James had passed one night in 
 a cell in the West Twentieth street station 
 house, and incidentally had been clubbed al- 
 most to death, he changed his mind. And 
 William, who was an educated mulatto boy, 
 may or may not have changed his mind, but, at 
 all events, he vanished that same night. We 
 
 49 
 
have our ideas as to what happened to him, 
 but have no evidence. Twelve years have 
 passed, and I am told by his wife that she has 
 not seen or heard from him, nor have I. 
 
 Every person in any manner connected with 
 my office, or buildings, was arrested, or threat- 
 ened with arrest, and as for myself, I had been 
 arrested so many times I was beginning to get 
 accustomed to it. Once, in writing to my 
 father, I expressed the opinion that the worst 
 was over, as I had not been arrested for four 
 days. But I was mistaken, the worst was to 
 come. 
 
 It has been said that "revenge is sweet," but 
 it is sometimes sour. If happiness consists in 
 making others happy, inversely, misery consists 
 in making others miserable. The spirit of re- 
 taliation, this desire to get even, not only re- 
 dounds to the detriment of the malicious per- 
 son, but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred 
 draws him still deeper into the mire. I wanted 
 satisfaction ; I wanted my name vindicated ; I 
 wanted the facts to be known ; I was not like 
 the Judge who said to the Senator, "Let them 
 talk; let them publish all the terrible things 
 they can think of; let them lie all they want to 
 about us, but for God's sake don't let them tell 
 
 50 
 
the truth." I wanted the truth to be known. 
 The fact that the indictments against me had 
 been "pigeon-holed" was galling. Thousands 
 of estimable persons who meant well, but who, 
 nevertheless, were a little misty in matters re- 
 lating to law and who regarded a charge, if 
 made by the police against a person, in the 
 same light as they would a conviction, felt it 
 obligatory (that is, a duty they owed society) 
 to repeat to others the false statements they had 
 heard about me. 
 
 Under such circumstances is it surprising 
 that I felt sorry for myself? Had I been a big 
 man, mentally, I might not have cared ; but un- 
 fortunately we are not all big men and we 
 little fellows, when we imagine it is being 
 "rubbed in" too hard, are apt to become more 
 or less spiteful. 
 
 A man who has the power and yet refrains 
 from injuring those who have injured him is a 
 great man — worthy the esteem of all men. We 
 all, little and big, good and bad, prefer the es- 
 teem of our fellow-men. I was no excep- 
 tion to the rule; and, now, in the calm of more 
 mature years, as I review the past, I regret I 
 did not curb my temper and display more man- 
 liness. But at the time, when the tension of my 
 
 51 
 
reason was relaxed, then the low, the brute, the 
 animal instinct, itching to get at them, was in 
 me. They — the police — would not volun- 
 tarily "come out in the open," come into an 
 open court of law and fight, so I proposed to 
 drag them out. 
 
 If two or three police captains, and a few 
 police detectives, without cause, could have 
 me indicted and ruined, I felt that with cause 
 I could have them indicted and "broke." And 
 while "boiling over" with this spirit of re- 
 venge, I communicated with the foreman of 
 the Grand Jury, and asked permission to ap- 
 pear before that honorable body. 
 
 A prisoner calls his lawyer his "mouth- 
 piece." At the time I was a prisoner out on 
 bail and wanted to take my "mouth-piece" into 
 the Grand Jury room with me, but they, the 
 jurors, would not stand for it. If I had any- 
 thing to say I could go in alone and say it, 
 otherwise remain out. 
 
 No person, unless he enjoys hearing himself 
 talk, relishes the idea of standing up in front of 
 twenty-five Grand Jurymen and entertaining 
 them for an hour or so; but as it was the only 
 way I could wreak vengeance on my enemies 
 
 52 
 
I "braced up" and went in "single handed and 
 alone." 
 
 The foreman requested me to be as brief as 
 possible, as it was past closing hour, and they 
 were about to adjourn for the day. This, in 
 itself, had a tendency to disconcert me, and 
 what would I not at that moment have given 
 for a lawyer? One familiar with the "ropes" 
 and not afraid to set up a good, "stiff kick," 
 whether his rights were being trespassed upon 
 or not! 
 
 Mine was too long a tale, fraught with too 
 many wrongs to skim over in a hurry, and I 
 asked if I could not appear before them at the 
 opening of their session, the following morn- 
 ing. "No," I was to say what I had to say then 
 or not at all. 
 
 In the Grand Jury room the twenty-five 
 jurors were seated at a long, narrow table, and 
 I had been told to take a seat at the far end of 
 the table; but I now stood up and without any 
 "beating about the bush" proceeded to tell my 
 story. Five minutes — ten minutes — and I kept 
 on talking, but they seemed to be paying little 
 attention to me; most of them were examining 
 documents and whispering to each other. A 
 few were gazing at the ceiling. One had his 
 
watch on the table before him, and kept his eye 
 riveted on it. Everything about the place was 
 cold and formal, and for all the progress I was 
 making it seemed as if I might as well be talk- 
 ing to so many marble statues. Their faces 
 were mostly blank; those with expression wore 
 a bored expression. Talking under such cir- 
 cumstances is depressing; yet I knew I had 
 something to say, and was saying it. Step by 
 step I was unfolding my long list of tribula- 
 tions. Presently two jurors up at the other end 
 of the table appeared interested, at least were 
 looking at me, so I directed my statements to 
 them. Then a man near my end of the long 
 table excused himself for interrupting, but re- 
 quested that I repeat a statement just made. I 
 did so, and this little occurrence put me more 
 at my ease, and when the foreman asked me to 
 speak louder it was with ease that I accom- 
 modated him. By degrees others became in- 
 terested and I talked to them also. At last the 
 man with the watch put it in his pocket. This 
 was encouraging, and I commenced to "warm 
 up" to my subject; and when he turned in his 
 chair and placed his hand to his ear, and 
 leaned forward, I took pains that he not only 
 heard every word I uttered but appreciated its 
 
 54 
 
full force and meaning. I told him, and I told 
 them how in five years I had built up a large 
 business, and how careful I had been to safe- 
 guard it; how watchful, how anxious I had 
 been to hold my tenants and give them satisfac- 
 tion ; how disastrous it would be to my interests 
 if I permitted disorderly persons to gain access 
 to my flats. I told him and I told them how 
 the captains of the different precincts in which 
 my buildings were located, on the East Side 
 and the West Side of the city, had, despite the 
 good character of my tenants, pre-determined 
 to levy blackmail on me ; how they with one 
 accord had met and decided to force me to pay 
 to each a stipulated sum, ranging from one 
 hundred to three hundred dollars per month, 
 according to the number of buildings owned or 
 leased by me, in their respective precincts. I 
 told him and I told them how these public 
 officials had approached me; how they had 
 each prepared a long statement, a carefully 
 figured memorandum, giving the rent derived 
 from each furnished flat, and the estimated 
 profit to me per week and per month ; and how 
 they had told me that in my case they proposed 
 to be liberal, and were going to permit me to 
 retain half of my own money, half of my own 
 
 55 
 
profits. In other words, in consideration of 
 supplying all the capital, and doing all the 
 work, I could keep each month for myself half 
 of what I made, provided I, in consideration 
 of not being molested by them, passed over to 
 them, in bills, not checks, the other half. I 
 told him and I told them how I had spurned 
 this offer; how I had declined to be a party to 
 any such underhanded proceeding; how they 
 had given me two days in which to consider 
 the matter, and how on the third day I had 
 been arrested by Officer Barnard McConville 
 and his "side partner." I also told him, and I 
 told them, how I had subsequently called on 
 Dr. Parkhurst and how he had appointed 
 Arthur F. Dennett, Superintendent of the 
 Society for the Prevention of Crime, to per- 
 sonally make an investigation, and how Mr. 
 Dennett had personally called on all my ten- 
 ants, and of the report he submitted to Dr. 
 Parkhurst, and that said report was so satis- 
 factory to the latter that he called on me at my 
 office, and offered me his support. I told him 
 and I told them how I had called on Mr. 
 Roosevelt, who at that time was President of the 
 Police Board of New York City, and how he 
 had appointed Detective Sergeant Mason (one 
 
 56 
 
of the few members of the force in whom he 
 had confidence) to make an investigation of 
 my flats; and how, after reading Mason's re- 
 port, he (Roosevelt) also had volunteered to 
 stand back of me, and do everything in his 
 power to stop the further persecution of me by 
 the police. I told him and I told them of my 
 interview with Recorder Goff , and how he had 
 advised me to "go over the head of District At- 
 torney Fellows, and ask permission to appear 
 before the Grand Jury." I told him and I told 
 them all this, and more, and they listened, lis- 
 tened attentively; there was no longer any 
 whispering, any reading of legal documents; 
 no longer any looking at the ceiling. Every 
 man in that room was looking straight at me, 
 and I could feel that they were "with me" ; that 
 they believed me ; that they knew I was speak- 
 ing the truth; and after having detained them 
 long past their closing hour, I thanked them 
 for the courtesy extended to me and retired. 
 
 On my word, which was corroborated in 
 every particular by trustworthy witnesses, this 
 Grand Jury, which was in charge of Assistant 
 District Attorney Lindsay, and of which 
 Francis H. Leggett, the wholesale grocery- 
 man, was foreman, indicted Police Captain J. 
 
 57 
 
J. Donohue and Police Captain James K. 
 Price and Police Detective Henry W. Schill. 
 
 I wanted revenge and I got it; furthermore, 
 got all the trimmings that go with it; but to 
 say I was "trimmed" would not adequately 
 express what they did to me. 
 
 When we get what we want, we sometimes 
 discover that it is not what we wanted af- 
 ter all. 
 
 As previously stated, the worst was to come, 
 and it came immediately after these officers 
 (owing to the indictments) had been sus- 
 pended from the police department. Up to 
 this time I had had a few captains and a score 
 or two of detectives arrayed against me; but 
 now, almost a battalion, headed by McCon- 
 ville and Acting Captain Lynch, who suc- 
 ceeded Captain Donohue, were lined up 
 against me, and without a semblance of legal 
 evidence, swooped down on my flats like an 
 avalanche, broke open doors, and cleaned out 
 every one. 
 
 "Impossible, preposterous, it could not be 
 done — it would be illegal — the police would 
 not dare to smash in doors and raid flats with- 
 out lawful evidence." 
 
 When I hear expressions of this kind, made 
 
 58 
 
by the uninitiated, I think of the lawyer who 
 told his client that it could not be done, that 
 it would be unlawful, that they could not lock 
 him up. "Yes," said his client, speaking from 
 behind the bars, "but, I am here?' And it was 
 the same with my tenants — they were there — 
 behind the bars. 
 
 In every precinct in which my flats were 
 located my tenants were illegally raided and 
 locked up. Honest, hard working young 
 women, employed in our department stores, 
 and living in my tenement flats, were carried 
 off to jail by the dozen in patrol wagons, solely 
 for the purpose of enabling the police to 
 illegally make out a seemingly legal case 
 against me — one that might result in a con- 
 viction. 
 
 To substantiate this assertion I could pub- 
 lish a portfolio full of affidavits, but one will 
 suffice : 
 
 City and County of the State of New York — 
 Louise Fink, being duly sworn, deposes and says 
 that on or about the 8th day of October, 1894, 
 in the East Thirty-fifth Street Station-house, at 
 about 7:30 o'clock in the evening of such day, 
 she heard the Captain of Police in charge of such 
 precinct make use of and say the following words, 
 or words to the effect, to certain prisoners in the 
 said station-house, bearing the names of Addie 
 
 59 
 
Smith, Josephine Merritt and Lizzie Gregory, 
 to wit: — '"There is no occasion to carry on and 
 cry so, girls, for if you set up no defense and 
 plead guilty, and swear Flagg knew you were 
 using his flats for immoral purposes, we will let 
 you down light to-morrow morning at Special 
 Sessions. It is not you that we want to get the 
 dead wood on, but Flagg." 
 
 Louise Fink. 
 
 Sworn to before me on this, 12th day of 
 October, 1894. 
 
 George W. Miner, 
 Commissioner of Deeds. 
 
 Maggie Smith and Anna Chapman, two 
 young women, employed in Hearn's Four- 
 teenth street dry goods store, who were also in 
 the station house at the same time, swore to 
 the same fact before the same notary. 
 
 The police not only made these unlawful 
 raids, blighting the lives of honest working 
 girls, but raided the occupants of flats over 
 which I had absolutely no control. 
 
 When a landlord dispossesses a tenant he is 
 compelled, by law, to employ a city marshal 
 to serve the papers. The tenant is allowed 
 three days in which to answer. He must then 
 vacate or appear in a District Court and show 
 cause why he should not be evicted. If he 
 sets up any kind of excuse, the Judge, whose 
 
 60 
 
sympathy is naturally with the tenant, extends 
 the time a few days, more or less as the case 
 may be. It is not the landlord, but the Judge 
 who has the naming of the day and hour, on 
 or before which the tenant must move out. 
 Until the time, named by the Judge, expires, 
 the landlord's hands, figuratively speaking, are 
 tied ; and, if a law-abiding citizen, he will obey 
 the mandate of the law. I am a law-abiding 
 citizen and to exemplify how the police and 
 the District Attorney tried to take advantage 
 of this fact, it is only necessary to quote from 
 the Court Records: — By the District Attor- 
 ney: — ["Did Captain Lynch warn you that 
 the building, 225 West 18th Street, was being 
 used for disorderly purposes?" 
 Flagg:— "Yes." 
 
 District Attorney: — "Did he on May 29th, 
 1895, notify you, in writing, to abate the 
 nuisance?" 
 
 Flagg: — "Yes. And the next day, May 
 30th, 1895, I notified him in writing that I 
 had instructed City Marshal James M. Gano 
 to dispossess my tenants, although far from be- 
 ing satisfied that they were, in reality, using 
 their flats for immoral purposes." 
 
 District Attorney: — "When you heard them 
 
 61 
 
plead guilty, after they were raided, were you 
 satisfied?" 
 
 Flagg:— "No." 
 
 District Attorney: — "No?" 
 
 Flagg:— "No." 
 
 District Attorney: — "Well, tell us, Mr. 
 Flagg, how many of your tenants were raided 
 during June, 1895, and how many pleaded 
 guilty and were fined?" 
 
 Flagg (to Judge) : — "May I explain un- 
 der what conditions these raids were 
 made?" 
 
 District Attorney: — "I object." 
 
 Judge: — "Objection sustained." 
 
 Flagg (to the Jury) : — "Do you want to get 
 at the truth of this matter?" 
 
 District Attorney: — "I move, your Honor, 
 to have that remark stricken from the records." 
 
 Judge (to Court Stenographer) : — "Strike 
 it out." 
 
 District Attorney: — "Answer my question." 
 
 Judge: — "Answer the question." 
 
 Flagg: — "What question?" 
 
 Court Stenographer (reads question) : — 
 "How many of your tenants were raided dur- 
 ing June, 1895, and how many pleaded guilty 
 and were fined?" 
 
 Flagg: — "McConville told them, they say, 
 
 62 
 
that if they would plead guilty and pay a ten 
 dollar fine they would be discharged." 
 
 District Attorney: — "I move, your Honor, 
 to have that crossed from the records." 
 
 A Juryman: — "I would like to have the 
 facts." 
 
 Flagg (to Judge) : — "May I give the facts 
 to the jury?" 
 
 District Attorney: — "I object." 
 
 Flagg: — "Naturally, you object." 
 
 Judge (to Flagg) : — "Any more of this and 
 I shall fine you for contempt." 
 
 Flagg (to Jury) :— "City Marshal Gano" — 
 
 District Attorney: — "I object! Object!!" 
 
 Judge: — "Objection overruled." 
 
 Flagg (to Jury) : — "City Marshal Gano 
 notified Captain Lynch, June 3d, 1895, that 
 he had, at my request, served dispossess papers 
 on eight tenants living in the building 
 225 West 1 8th Street, and that Judge 
 Joseph H. Steiner of the Eighth Dis- 
 trict Court, had given them, the tenants, 
 until June 10th, 1895, in which to va- 
 cate. They were therefore no longer under 
 my jurisdiction. While still occupying my 
 flats I had no legal right to put them out. And 
 Captain Lynch of the Sixteenth Precinct knew 
 
 63 
 
it, even knew that I was to receive no rent, 
 from these tenants, during this time, and yet, 
 during this extension of time, June 3d to June 
 10th, 1895, granted by Judge Steiner, he, 
 Lynch, swooped down on these tenants, who in 
 reality and legally were no longer tenants of 
 mine, and raided them and arrested me. The 
 tenants told me that McConville told them if 
 they would plead guilty and swear I knew they 
 were using my flats for disorderly purposes, 
 and pay a fine of ten dollars, they would be 
 discharged. Three did so plead, and did so 
 swear, and were immediately discharged in 
 the Jefferson Market Police Court. The re- 
 maining five refused to commit perjury and 
 were held in jail four days, and then, honor- 
 ably discharged as there was no incriminating 
 evidence against them. I also was discharged 
 in the Special Sessions Court."] 
 
 This is probably the only case on record 
 where three inmates of an alleged disorderly 
 house were sentenced to pay a fine, because 
 they could be coerced into swearing falsely, 
 and the keeper of the same alleged disorderly 
 house, on identically the same evidence, honor- 
 ably discharged because he could not be co- 
 erced into swearing falsely. 
 
 No threat of imprisonment, no cell, or 
 
 64 
 
promise of immunity could make me ac- 
 knowledge that I was guilty when I knew I 
 was not guilty. But, it was to be expected, out 
 of the great number of illegally raided flats in 
 different parts of the city, that some of the 
 occupants, some of the frightened young 
 women would, when incarcerated in damp 
 station house cells reeking with vermin, swear 
 to anything to regain their freedom. 
 
 [Station house cells are filthy compared to 
 prison cells.] 
 
 The police probably expected that all the 
 young women would commit perjury rather 
 than be confined in these filthy cells, and this 
 is why they illegally arrested them all. But, 
 there is no going back of the facts; and the 
 facts show that while some of these young 
 women were not imprisoned and were dis- 
 charged, after paying a ten dollar fine, because 
 they followed the advice which they say Mc- 
 Conville gave to them, and committed perjury 
 by pleading guilty when they were not guilty, 
 others, on the same evidence, after being held 
 several days, were honorably discharged. And 
 why, without an atom of incriminating evi- 
 dence against them, were these honest young 
 women held? It was because the police ex- 
 
 65 
 
pected that any day some one or all of them 
 might relent and, to gain freedom, be willing 
 to commit perjury, willing to swear that they 
 had used my flats for immoral purposes when 
 they had not. If they could be coerced into so 
 swearing the District Attorney could then, 
 when my case came on for trial, say to my jury 
 — "Look, see this long list of self-confessed 
 prostitutes whom we have raided and who 
 were living in Flagg's flats." This is just what 
 the District Attorney did say to my jury, but 
 the list was not as long as he would have pre- 
 ferred. 
 
 Before and during and after my trial the 
 animus displayed by Assistant District Attor- 
 ney Bartow S. Weeks, my ex-clerk, and Barney 
 McConville, the ex-truck driver, was almost 
 beyond belief. 
 
 I shall never forget a certain afternoon 
 when I was walking to the West 20th street 
 station house with McConville on one side of 
 me and Rohrig on the other. Both men were 
 taller and more powerfully built than I. My 
 right wrist was chained to Rohrig, my left to 
 McConville, and I was powerless to smash 
 McConville in the jaw. He knew it, and as 
 we were turning the corner of 18th Street and 
 
 66 
 
Seventh Avenue, he said to me: — "I wish to 
 God I was now leading you to the chair and 
 that I was to be the one to touch the button 
 and send you to Hell," accompanying this re- 
 mark with an unprintable oath. 
 
 Officer Rohrig heard him say it — heard 
 the oath — but Rohrig is a man who relies 
 on his memory, which is defective. And yet I 
 noticed, when he was testifying under oath, he 
 never forgot to forget the things that he did not 
 wish to remember. 
 
 Shortly after my trial, Barney McConville, 
 who is still a member of the "Finest," was 
 promoted. The newspapers, when eulogizing 
 him at the time, said he was raised to the rank 
 of a central office detective owing to his effec- 
 tive work in the "Flagg case." He did work 
 pretty hard. No matter in what part of the 
 city a flat of mine might be illegally raided, it 
 was McConville's function to lead me to the 
 West 20th street station house, and he was 
 right on the job. I was usually arrested, 
 shortly after breakfast and then again in the 
 afternoon and occasionally in the evening. 
 First I was in, then out, and in again, and it 
 was difficult to attend to business. Bank- 
 ruptcy stared me in the face. My build- 
 
 67 
 
ings were vacant; and with no income, 
 with one mortgage after another being fore- 
 closed, with one piece of property after an- 
 other being taken from me, with my office 
 demoralized, and my bank account attached, it 
 commenced to dawn on me that revenge was 
 not what it was "cracked up to be." 
 
 The situation was simply this: the police, 
 who had failed in their attempts to extort 
 money, had had me indicted, and I, who had 
 failed in my attempts to force my case to an 
 issue, had had them indicted. Now in order 
 that they might be reinstated, put back on the 
 force, it was necessary for them to have me 
 convicted. If convicted the District Attor- 
 ney could then move to have the indictments 
 against them dismissed on the ground that I 
 was unworthy of belief, and they would forth- 
 with be reinstated. It was for this reason that 
 they were so eager to work up a case against 
 me. I quote the words of my lawyer when ad- 
 dressing the jury: "It was stated, admitted in 
 open court, by District Attorney Fellows 
 himself, that this prosecution held the balance 
 for Police Captains Price and Donohue, and 
 that other members of the force are also in 
 danger; that the charges against them might 
 
 68 
 
be multiplied; that Captain Price is await- 
 ing the fate of the indictment against him; 
 that the police have been so informed in this 
 court house, and by the District Attorney of 
 this County in person, at the Bar of the Court 
 of Oyer and Terminer, that upon the out- 
 come of this prosecution against Jared 
 Flagg depends the fate of these police cap- 
 tains and detectives, and whether they shall 
 be tried or not. 
 
 "So you see what terrible influence is at 
 work from this police center to induce you to 
 convict this defendant, operating upon the 
 minds of these officers to incite them to effect 
 this object."] 
 
 Realizing the unfair, the foul means 
 adopted by the police to beslime my reputa- 
 tion in order to save their own, I felt that if 
 their illicit acts could be ventilated in a pub- 
 lic court of law it would go a long way to- 
 wards helping me to vindicate my name. 
 The public at large do not believe in "strik- 
 ing a man below the belt." If there is to be 
 a fight, the public at large want to see a fair 
 fight. Figuratively, I had been knocked 
 down by a foul blow, and I wanted to stand 
 up. Our greatest glory is not in never fall- 
 
 en? 
 
ing, but in rising every time we fall; and I 
 wanted to rise and fight for my rights. But 
 there were others who cared nothing for my 
 rights, who were only interested in themselves, 
 and whose only desire was to see the matter 
 "hushed up." They felt that there had al- 
 ready been too much publicity. "Never mind 
 about your name, let it be forgotten; never 
 mind about the vindication; never mind what 
 the public may think of you, we stand high in 
 its estimation, and we cannot afford to have 
 your case go to trial owing to the stigma 
 which will attach itself to a case of this char- 
 acter whether you are innocent or guilty." 
 This is what certain relatives of mine said; 
 but it is a consolation to know that they were 
 not near relatives; not brothers, or sisters, or 
 parents. 
 
 Late one afternoon, one of these relatives 
 called. He found me alone in my bedroom; I 
 had no office; I was a bankrupt; and the fol- 
 lowing conversation took place: "Judging 
 from your environments I should imagine you 
 were a little pressed for ready cash." 
 
 "I am." 
 
 "The only time money will do you any good 
 is when you haven't got any. You make 
 
 70 
 
money, but what do you do with it? You are 
 not a drinking man. Do you gamble it all 
 away?" he asked. 
 
 "Never lost a dollar in my life gambling." 
 
 "But you have lost everything?" 
 
 "Everything," I said. 
 
 "Even your reputation?" 
 "Yes, but no person can lose his reputation 
 without gaining another," I added. 
 
 "Very true; and you have gained the other; 
 a beautiful reputation, I must say. You have 
 disgraced the family; look at your brothers 
 and sisters; see the position they hold in so- 
 ciety; I should think you would want to hang 
 your head in shame and sink into oblivion, yet 
 I see by the papers that you contemplate 
 shortly airing yourself in a public court of 
 law. When does your case come up for trial?" 
 
 "It is now on the Day Calendar and liable 
 to be reached at any time," I remarked. 
 
 "You know best, but if I were in your posi- 
 tion I know what I would do." 
 
 "What?" I asked. 
 
 "Quietly pack my trunk and cross the 
 pond." 
 
 "If it would cramp you financially to cross 
 
 7i 
 
the river — to Hoboken — how could you cross 
 the ocean?" I inquired. 
 
 "Don't let that worry you; you will be sup- 
 plied with funds, more than enough to keep 
 you going for several years to come; I will 
 arrange all that." 
 
 "What! You advise me to run away, leave 
 the country?" 
 
 "This is not the only country in the world," 
 he said. 
 
 "But it is my only country, and you advise 
 me, an innocent man, to leave it forever?" 
 
 "It might be best," he thought. 
 
 "Best! How best? Are you aware that I 
 have committed no crime — have done abso- 
 lutely nothing wrong? I am charged with 
 having committed a misdemeanor; but a mis- 
 demeanor is not a felony; and even if I should 
 be convicted — though innocent — I would still 
 be as much of a citizen of these United States 
 as you." 
 
 "That's not the question," interposed my rel- 
 ative, "we do not say you are guilty, but it is 
 the disgraceful newspaper notoriety that we 
 dread; and you know how it will be if your 
 case is allowed to go to trial." 
 
 "But I will be acquitted — vindicated." 
 
 72 
 
"That makes no difference. The papers will 
 talk, and all this notoriety is offensive to the 
 family; we have a name to preserve." 
 
 "Yes," I said, "but have I no right to defend 
 myself? How about my name?" 
 
 "It will be forgotten. If you go away it 
 will all die out; people forget; and the family 
 will not be subjected to this everlasting news- 
 paper scandal." 
 
 "And to end it all you would have me be- 
 come a fugitive from justice, a criminal in 
 reality?" 
 
 "I do not say that," he said. 
 
 "But that is what it means," said I. "It 
 means that you would have me become an 
 exile ; would have me leave my native country 
 and go to some foreign land, NEVER to return, 
 isolated, banished from home for life, from 
 kindred, friends and all that I hold dear. It 
 means that you would have me leave them all, 
 violate my oath, break my word, forfeit my 
 bail bond and go." 
 
 "Your bondsman is a rich man; he would 
 not care." 
 
 "Not care! and on my bond for seven thou- 
 sand five hundred dollars?" 
 
 73 
 
"It's only a bagatelle to him," my relative 
 remarked. 
 
 "But he is a friend, a real friend, he is trust- 
 ing me, he has confidence in me; and you 
 would ask me to shatter that confidence, to 
 betray that friendship, and quietly abscond, 
 run away, sneak away? Oh! no — not I! 
 NEVER! Not if I were to be electrocuted. You 
 do not know me; I am not one of that kind. 
 When my case comes up, when the Clerk of 
 the Court calls out, 'Jared Flagg to the Bar,' 
 you will see me there. I will face the music, 
 and if the case goes against me I shall take my 
 medicine like a man. There's the door — 
 Good-day." 
 
 74 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 IN 1895-6 Colonel John R. Fellows was Dis- 
 trict Attorney of the City of New York, and it 
 just so happened at this particular time that he 
 had an assistant named Weeks — Bartow S. 
 Weeks — who had formerly been employed by 
 me as a bookkeeper, but whom I dis- 
 charged. I quote from the Court Rec- 
 ord: — [Weeks: "Mr. Flagg, during what 
 years were you engaged in the wholesale pro- 
 vision business?" Flagg: "You ought to 
 know, you were my bookkeeper until I dis- 
 charged you for incompetency."] 
 
 This young man Weeks, it appears, enter- 
 tained a secret grudge against me; he also en- 
 tertained a desire to make a record for himself 
 as a prosecuting attorney, and by some hook or 
 crook when he discovered that the "pigeon- 
 holed indictments" were to be resurrected and 
 placed on the calendar, he induced the Dis- 
 trict Attorney to deputize him to aid in work- 
 ing up the case against me. In justice to 
 
 75 
 
Weeks it can be truthfully said he aided. He 
 worked against me as he had never worked for 
 me, and with all the venom, hate and malice 
 of a disgruntled and discharged employe, 
 racked his brain in formulating the indict- 
 ments which were secured against me by false 
 swearing, perjury and lies. 
 
 When Judge Newberger, before whom my 
 case was being tried, discovered that Weeks 
 had formerly been a clerk of mine, he ex- 
 cluded him from the case. But prior to the 
 time my case was brought into court, all 
 during the shameful destruction of my fur- 
 niture, Weeks was the most accommodating 
 ally the police had in the District Attorney's 
 office. Time and again I endeavored to ex- 
 plain to the District Attorney the cause of 
 Weeks' animus, but it did no good. Colonel 
 John R. Fellows is now dead, and as it is 
 against my principles to attack a dead man I 
 shall not explain why it did no good. 
 
 The offense charged against me was a mis- 
 demeanor, not a felony, and there , is a dif- 
 ference between the two. A felon, a person 
 convicted of a crime, loses his citizenship, 
 his right to vote; but a person convicted of a 
 misdemeanor, a petty offense, does not lose his 
 citizenship or right to vote. He is not a crim- 
 
 26 
 
inal. I was, and always have been, a citizen 
 of the United States. No person living or dead 
 ever justly accused me of committing a crime. 
 Why, then, when charged with an offense 
 which was not a crime, should thousands of 
 dollars be filched from the people? It is said 
 that my trial, which lasted almost ten days 
 and nights (evening sessions were held), cost 
 the taxpayers of this city a small fortune; and 
 yet it was not the people's trial; the people 
 made no complaint; the public or my neigh- 
 bors had nothing against me or my tenants. It 
 was not the People vs. Jared Flagg, but the 
 Blackmailing Police vs. Jared Flagg; and it 
 was the police that squandered the people's 
 money. The police, when it comes to spend- 
 ing other people's money for their own protec- 
 tion, are not noted for being coy. 
 
 When a person of wealth is accused of some 
 crime or offense, and escapes punishment, we 
 attribute it to his money; but in my case the 
 money was on the other side, and it was unlim- 
 ited. Everything in any way tending to mili- 
 tate against me, the police possessed. They 
 pulled "every wire," controlled every wheel of 
 the vast machinery; and, what is more, 
 worked them all for all they were worth. 
 
 When Theodore Roosevelt heard of the 
 
 77 
 
underhanded tactics of the police, he was in- 
 censed beyond measure. The records of the 
 Police Board of August 9, 1895, show that he 
 publicly declared, at a meeting of the said 
 Board, that I was being most unjustly per- 
 secuted, and that he proposed to have it 
 stopped; and it was no fault of his that it did 
 not stop. He worked long and hard and did 
 all in his power to see that justice should be 
 done, but what can one man outside of "Tam- 
 many" accomplish against an army en- 
 trenched in the Fourteenth street Wigwam? 
 
 In this connection I insert a copy of a letter 
 sent to Mr. Roosevelt by Arthur F. Dennett, 
 Superintendent of the Society for the Preven- 
 tion of Crime. 
 
 Society for the Prevention of Crime. 
 
 Incorporated 1878. 
 No. 105 East 22d Street. 
 
 OFFICERS 
 
 C. H. Parkhur^t, President. Thaddeus D. Kenneson, Secretary. 
 
 Henry M. MacCracken, Vice-President. Edward A. Newell, Treasurer. 
 William H. Arnoux, Vice-President. Frank Moss. Counsel. 
 
 Arthur F. Dennett, Superintendent. 
 
 New York, August 12, 1895. 
 Theodore Roosevelt, Esq., 
 Police Commissioner, 
 300 Mulberry St., New York. 
 Dear Sir: — I notice by the papers that you 
 are going to give Jared Flagg a hearing. I 
 
 78 
 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 
 (Now President of the United States) 
 
 Testifying to the injustice of the charges brought 
 
 against Jared Flagg. 
 [A reprint from the New York World of Feb. 26, 1896.] 
 
am glad that you take that position as I think 
 you are right, and I am sure that if Mr. Flagg 
 is given a hearing he will be able to back up 
 all his statements. While I do not regard him 
 as a saint by any means, yet I feel sure that he 
 has been persecuted very much by the police 
 since he went before the Extraordinary Grand 
 Jury, and they have tried to retaliate on him 
 by driving him out of business and intimidat- 
 ing his tenants. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Arthur F. Dennett/' 
 
 Reverend Doctor C. H. Parkhurst was also 
 incensed, and when the facts were placed be- 
 fore him he almost forgot for the moment his 
 religious proclivities and came within an ace 
 of using pretty strong language. 
 
 Ordinarily such a case, a mere misde- 
 meanor, could have been disposed of in ten 
 minutes; but there was more to my case than 
 appeared on its surface. The bad name of the 
 police department was at stake. If a police 
 officer considered it wise to pay a cash bonus 
 of fifteen thousand dollars to be made a cap- 
 tain, and in 1895 tms was tne market price, the 
 amount demanded for the privilege of black- 
 
 81 
 
mailing people in his precinct; what was to 
 become of him if suspended? Where did 
 his fifteen thousand come in? Who was to 
 make good? What would happen if this kind 
 of thing continued? These were momentous 
 questions. No wonder they were interested; 
 no wonder that during the long days of my 
 trial the police packed the court room to the 
 doors. 
 
 In all the history of New York; in all the 
 history of the police department of New 
 York; I was the first, the first citizen, to have 
 two police captains indicted and suspended 
 from the force. I had, according to their 
 code of ethics, set a bad precedent. I had 
 given testimony and the Grand Jury had be- 
 lieved me. It was now up to them — the police, 
 — to impeach my testimony; not only that 
 Donohue and Price might be reinstated, but 
 that the dishonor and bad name of the "de- 
 partment" might be upheld; in plain English, 
 that they might be able to bulldoze, swindle, 
 and rob the people in the future as they had in 
 the past. With this end in view practically all 
 the police detectives of the city turned out to 
 assist the District Attorney, and they managed 
 to "roundup" quite an array of "street-walkers" 
 
 82 
 
and i4 stool-pigeons," all of whom were eager 
 to curry favor with the police by testifying ac- 
 cording to instructions. To gaze on this 
 throng; to see the court room packed with 
 officers in full-dress uniform; to see the little, 
 but big, pompous District Attorney, the 
 officious Weeks, his assistant, the "silver- 
 tongued" orator, Lewis, and the other Assist- 
 ant District Attorneys, poring over voluminous 
 portfolios filled with legal documents and 
 reams of typewritten matter, lying depositions, 
 which it had taken months to accumulate; to 
 see them with their heads together in earnest 
 conversation ; and every now and then beckon- 
 ing to some police inspector, or captain, or de- 
 tective, to come over inside the railing; to see 
 them whispering, and to see the official mes- 
 sengers dashing hither and thither, and push- 
 ing and shoving and forcing their way 
 through the throng as though it were a matter 
 of life or death for them to obey orders 
 promptly; a casual observer would have sup- 
 posed, where there was so much smoke there 
 must be some fire, some evidence to convict; 
 but it was all one stupendous bluff — there was 
 nothing to it — the witnesses who had promised 
 to do and say so much, when subjected to the 
 
 83 
 
test, when it came right down to the "fine 
 point," when placed under oath, and warned 
 by the judge of the penalty of perjury, wilted, 
 and their accusations proved to be mere ex- 
 halations of "hot air." But this was not the 
 case with my witnesses, and if any person, 
 especially any person who questions the au- 
 thenticity of any statement herein contained, 
 will inspect the records relating to my trial, 
 on file in the General Sessions Court, he will 
 be convinced of this fact. He will have his 
 eyes opened; he will read in black and white 
 what Theodore Roosevelt, now President of 
 the United States, had to say in my behalf, and 
 also what the Reverend Doctor C. H. Park- 
 hurst had to say in my behalf. 
 
 It was due to no outside influence that these 
 men came forward to defend me. I was not 
 introduced to them by influential relatives. 
 No man ever amounted to any thing who 
 traveled on his grandfather's reputation or 
 the reputation of any other relative. I intro- 
 duced myself; went to them, as man to man, 
 and asked to have my statements investigated. 
 "If," said I, "you become convinced that I 
 am being unjustly persecuted, I want you to 
 stand by me," and they promised, if convinced, 
 
 84 
 
[A reprint from the New York Herald of Feb.26, 1896.] 
 
to do so. Neither Roosevelt nor Parkhurst 
 will stand up for a man simply to accom- 
 modate him; they must know what they are 
 doing; they must know the facts; must know 
 the man, must know his past record, must 
 know him to be worthy, before they will take 
 the stand in a court of law and defend him 
 under oath. Therefore it was not until they 
 had become convinced, beyond all reasonable 
 doubt, after a full and impartial investigation, 
 that they really promised to come forward and 
 support me in my defense. 
 
 Could money or influence, influence such 
 witnesses? Then why assert, without know- 
 ing any of the facts, that I have been guilty of 
 wrongdoing, when men of this calibre know- 
 ing all the facts, testify under oath to the con- 
 trary? 
 
 There is a difference between "hearsay evi- 
 dence" and real evidence. "Hearsay evi- 
 dence" is never admissible in a court of law. 
 Roosevelt and Parkhurst demanded real evi- 
 dence, and it was owing to the fact they re- 
 ceived such evidence that there was nothing 
 "mealy mouthed" about their testimony. In 
 expressing their views, based on the facts 
 
 8- 
 
brought out by their investigation, they did 
 not qualify statements or mince matters. 
 
 When the suave and oily Prosecutor Lewis 
 pleadingly asked Doctor Parkhurst, in his 
 sweetest and most persuasive tone of voice, if 
 he really wanted the jury to understand that 
 he — the Doctor — had absolute confidence in 
 Mr. Flagg's word, Doctor Parkhurst replied 
 as per the official court record, "Yes, sir! That 
 is just what I wish the jury to believe." 
 
 By asking this question Prosecutor Lewis 
 established (much to his disgust) my reputa- 
 tion for veracity. Here was the great Doctor 
 Parkhurst, respected and of world-wide fame, 
 testifying under oath, in an open court of law, 
 and when asked if he had absolute confidence 
 in my word (without qualification) said [And 
 I am quoting from the court records] : "When 
 Jared Flagg makes a statement to me I believe 
 him." 
 
 This reply was so different from what 
 Prosecutor Lewis expected or desired that it 
 rendered him speechless and he was forced 
 to have recourse to his smelling salts which 
 fortunately he had with him. 
 
 In important trials we frequently hear the 
 question asked, "Will the defendant take the 
 
 88 
 
stand in his own behalf?" It would seem that 
 any person, guilty or not guilty, if accused, 
 would want to say a good word for himself. 
 But the moment he says one word, in his own 
 defense, a hundred or more may testify against 
 him. The moment an accused person takes 
 the witness stand, that moment, in the lan- 
 guage of lawyers, "he opens the door," and 
 the opposing lawyers are no longer restrained 
 and legally confined to the specific charge for 
 which he is on trial. By taking the stand, he 
 places his character at stake. His past life, 
 his record is at issue; and if his reputation 
 can be shown, by the testimony of witnesses, 
 to be questionable, that testimony can be used 
 against him in arriving at a verdict. But if 
 he refrains from taking the stand in his own 
 behalf, evidence relating only to the specific 
 charge of which he is accused can be sub- 
 mitted, or considered, by the judge or jury. 
 This is law, and this explains why lawyers, 
 when defending clients with "shady reputa- 
 tions" refuse to permit them to take the stand. 
 But my character is not, and was not "shady"; 
 my past life was clean; the consequences of 
 cross-examination had no terrors for me; there 
 was, there is, no page in the book of my life 
 
 89 
 
that cannot be opened. Therefore I took the 
 stand in my own defense, which was equiva- 
 lent to saying to my accusers, if you have any 
 person in this community, or in any other com- 
 munity, who has aught to say against my char- 
 acter, bring him in; "the door is open"; I am 
 here, on the stand, and waiting to confront 
 him. 
 
 But did any one enter? Not a soul who 
 could question my veracity or character; not 
 even those whom I charged with attempted 
 extortion. 
 
 I quote from the words of my lawyer when 
 summing up before the jury: — ["Jared Flagg 
 has lived in this community twenty-five years. 
 Whatever there is of him is the result of self- 
 reliance, self-exertion. He has borne a good 
 reputation, as the evidence in this case proves. 
 Not one human being, not one witness, has ap- 
 peared against it; and the door was wide open, 
 and Mr. Flagg invited attack by his attitude, 
 by taking the stand in his own defense, and his 
 Honor will so charge you. When we put his 
 character in issue we offered conflict to the 
 Prosecution. It was a challenge to put upon 
 the witness stand any man or any woman who, 
 from the beginning of this defendant's life. 
 
 90 
 
down to the day of his trial, could assert aught 
 against his moral, his pacific, his good citizen- 
 ship, reputation and character. 
 
 "Yet, with all the venom evidenced in this 
 case; with all the police instincts; with the 
 terrible consequences to them of a verdict of 
 acquittal to incite their zeal and awaken mali- 
 cious inquiry; with all the nine police officers 
 attached to that precinct; and with all the 
 other officers involved in this prosecution; 
 with Donohue, who was indicted, in com- 
 mand; with Price, in the adjacent precinct, 
 hanging between heaven and earth on the 
 result of this case ; with the incentive terribly 
 impressing itself upon him; throughout this 
 broad land, in all the days of this trial, not one 
 human creature could be found, with all the 
 facilities for malignant enquiry, not one hu- 
 man creature could be found to come upon that 
 stand to say that Jared Flagg was not a peace- 
 able man; was not an honorable man; wasn't 
 a moral man; wasn't a good citizen. 
 
 "He stands unchallenged, uncontradicted, 
 unsullied, before you upon the witness stand, 
 without — as the evidence in this case shows — 
 a blemish upon his name."] 
 
 "Ah! but, this is what his lawyer said. A 
 
 91 
 
lawyer can say ANYTHING, when summing up 
 before a jury," some persons have asserted, but 
 they are mistaken. A lawyer cannot stretch 
 the truth when addressing a jury; he must 
 keep within the scope of the facts. If he makes 
 a statement that is not in accordance with the 
 evidence, the Judge or the opposing counsel 
 has a right to interrupt him. 
 
 The Court Record shows that the late 
 Charles W. Brooke, my lawyer, was not in- 
 terrupted when summing up before my jury, 
 notwithstanding that District Attorney Fel- 
 lows and five of his assistants were eagerly 
 listening to every word he uttered, and only 
 waiting for half a chance to "call him down." 
 
 When Mr. Brooke informed the jury that 
 I stood unchallenged, uncontradicted upon 
 the witness stand, without, as the evidence in 
 the case showed, a blemish upon my name, 
 Fellows and his assistant District Attorneys re- 
 mained silent; they could not gainsay it; it 
 was a fact; but had it not been true, all six 
 would, in the "twinkling of an eye," have been 
 on their feet, objecting. 
 
 They kept me in the witness chair two days 
 and a half; I was cross-examined by five dif- 
 ferent assistant District Attorneys, and al- 
 
 92 
 
though the Court Record shows that not one 
 word of my testimony was contradicted, no 
 mention of this fact was made by the news- 
 papers ; but on the contrary certain editors and 
 certain persons intimated that the charge of 
 blackmail, set up by me, was merely an excuse 
 that I might pose as a persecuted person. 
 
 For almost a year prior to my trial Cap- 
 tains Donohue and Price had been going about 
 interviewing reporters, and telling politicians 
 with a "pull," and ministers with influence, 
 that I was a scoundrel and a liar, and had in- 
 vented this yarn about blackmailing, simply 
 to awaken public sympathy. All this talk had 
 its effect. It affected Father Ducey, and it 
 moved the Reverend J. A. B. Wilson to such 
 an extent that he felt constrained not only to 
 come and lunch with me, but to appear against 
 me at my trial. 
 
 I quote from the Court Record: — [Mr. 
 Flagg: "Mr. Wilson called at my apartment 
 and said if I would manifest a contrite spirit, 
 and admit that I was a sinner, and withdraw 
 my charges against the police, and incidentally 
 defray the cost — seven hundred dollars — of 
 having electricity installed in his church, 
 which is located on Eighteenth street west of 
 
 93 
 
eighth avenue, he would intercede for me at 
 the Throne of Grace, and pray that I might 
 be saved from the wrath of the world to 
 come."] 
 
 Many persons who believe one side of a 
 story, until they hear the other, said they did 
 not believe that any member of our mag- 
 nificent police force would stoop to blackmail ; 
 but why did not the police say so? Why did 
 not Donohue and Price say so, when I, under 
 oath, and on the witness stand, in the General 
 Sessions Court, accused them to their faces of 
 attempted extortion. They were there. They 
 heard me. Why did they not deny it? If it was 
 not true, why did they not prefer charges 
 against me, and have me arrested, tried, con- 
 victed, and sent to state's prison for perjury? I 
 will tell you why. There is no law against lying. 
 Simple, everyday, conversational lying is per- 
 missible — not punishable; but there is a law 
 against perjury, which is testifying falsely 
 under oath, affirmation, or corroboration, in a 
 court of law. Had these police captains said 
 the things, sworn to the lies in court, that they 
 told out of court, my lawyer would have had 
 them convicted of perjury and sent to state's 
 prison. This is a pretty good reason, and this 
 
 94 
 
is the only reason why these police officials did 
 not dare to contradict me under oath. 
 
 If a man makes a statement under oath, 
 realizing the consequences of making a false 
 statement, and another man also realizing the 
 gravity of an oath, says, "I do not object to 
 lying a little out of court, but do not ask me 
 to go into court and under oath swear to the 
 lies that I have told out of court," which of 
 the two is worthy of belief? 
 
 What I said against the police, I said in 
 court and under oath. What the police said 
 against me was said out of court and not under 
 oath. 
 
 When I charged Captains Donohue and 
 Price with attempted extortion it was in an 
 open court of law. The oath had been admin- 
 istered, and I had sworn to tell the truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth; and 
 I told it. And what did they have to say for 
 themselves? What did they do? Take the 
 stand and deny the allegation? No! they "tip- 
 toed" their way out — quietly sneaked — both 
 of them, and did not show themselves again in 
 that court room until my trial was over. 
 
 This is the pith of the whole business. I 
 accused them of this crime and they did not 
 
 95 
 
dare to take the stand and under oath say that 
 I was not justified in so accusing them. 
 
 I quote from my lawyer's summing up ad- 
 dress: — ["Donohue will have his character 
 assailed; will be charged on the oath of Mr. 
 Flagg with having attempted to extort a bribe 
 from him, and that is the last we see of Dono- 
 hue. The District Attorney closes his case, 
 and I will stop my case right here. I will sur- 
 render every right, every privilege that I 
 have, and agree, if the District Attorney will 
 call Captain Donohue to the stand, to permit 
 him to do so."] 
 
 But neither Donohue or the District Attor- 
 ney considered it expedient to accept this offer. 
 And Price, what did he have to say for him- 
 self? 
 
 I quote from my lawyer's summing up ad- 
 dress: — ["Price will have his character as- 
 sailed, will be charged on the oath of Mr. 
 Flagg with having attempted to extort a bribe 
 from him, and that is the last we see of Mr. 
 Captain Price in his full-buttoned and impos- 
 ing uniform. Mr. Flagg is here, but the con- 
 spirators are hidden somewhere afraid to face 
 the jury that they have impaneled to try the 
 crimes that they have imputed to Mr. Flagg."] 
 
 96 
 
The witness who furnished the only possible 
 fact upon which to hinge the action against 
 me was an aged woman who lived on the top 
 floor rear of a tenement house located on West 
 Nineteenth street. This woman complained 
 that some of my West Eighteenth street ten- 
 ants went on the roof one hot night in the 
 month of July, 1895, and disturbed her by 
 singing the popular ditty entitled — "She is the 
 Sunshine of Paradise Alley." Under cross- 
 examination she would not say it was after 
 midnight when the notes from the tuneful re- 
 frain first reached her ears, but she would 
 swear she was in bed. Barring the testimony 
 of this one witness the jury disregarded as un- 
 worthy of belief every word of testimony sub- 
 mitted against me. And when twelve presum- 
 ably honest, intelligent and disinterested men 
 patiently listen for ten long days and evenings 
 to evidence it is reasonable to presume that 
 they are better qualified to render a correct 
 verdict than those who base their opinion on 
 hearsay evidence or newspaper reports. To 
 say that these men failed to do their duty; to 
 say I am guilty anyway; that everyone knows 
 I am guilty and I only happened to crawl out 
 by luck; is equivalent to saying that those who 
 
 97 
 
were not there, who heard no evidence and 
 saw no witnesses, know more about the inside 
 facts than those who were there and who heard 
 and saw it all. 
 
 To say that this jury — the twelve men there 
 sitting — answerable to their Maker, men who 
 had sworn, each of them, "So help me God I 
 will decide this case upon the evidence," to 
 say they did not do so when they brought in a 
 verdict, "Not Guilty of renting flats to be used 
 for immoral purposes or maintaining disor- 
 derly houses," is equivalent to saying that each 
 one of them is not only a liar but a perjurer. 
 No thoughtful, conscientious person would 
 make such a remark. Yet flippant individuals 
 — the idiotic kind who know it all — have re- 
 peatedly made this assertion. 
 
 "A general impression prevails," they say, 
 but "general impressions" are not evidence. 
 
 The District Attorney, in his opening 
 speech, and before a witness had been sworn, 
 said "A general impression prevails," etc., etc., 
 "but I am going to submit for the con- 
 scientious consideration of the jurors some- 
 thing more material than general impres- 
 sions." And then placing his hand on a stack 
 of clap-trap legal documents more than a foot 
 
 98 
 
high, said [and I am quoting his exact 
 words] : — "I have here indisputable evidence, 
 and am prepared to prove, and moreover will 
 prove by it, and by reputable and disinterested 
 witnesses that the defendant is guilty of every 
 allegation contained in the indictments." 
 
 He made this assertion to create or intensify 
 the "general impression," the impression that 
 those who were not personally acquainted 
 with me then held, namely, that I was "a bad 
 man." 
 
 But a few days later, after he had closed his 
 case; after he had submitted his evidence for 
 the "conscientious consideration" of the 
 jurors ; after every disreputable and interested 
 witness he could muster had been sworn and 
 had been heard, what was it that induced the 
 jury to ignore his alleged "indisputable evi- 
 dence" and "disinterested witnesses," and to 
 throw out and dismiss twenty-four of the twen- 
 ty-five counts contained in the indictments? 
 
 Let those wiseacres answer this question if 
 they can. 
 
 The jury acquitted me of the charge of 
 keeping disorderly houses ; of knowingly rent- 
 ing my flats to be used for immoral purposes; 
 of violating the excise law and of every other 
 charge that had been preferred against me, 
 
 99 
 
with the exception of one — the most insignifi- 
 cant count of all — that which charged me with 
 maintaining a nuisance, by having tenants who 
 made a noise, and disturbed the peace of the 
 neighborhood, and this upon the testimony of 
 the old woman hereinbefore referred to. On 
 this one count in the indictment, and there was 
 nothing immoral in connection with it, the 
 jury returned a verdict of "Guilty." 
 
 When the proverbially corrupt conditions 
 which prevailed at the time of my trial and 
 which to this day prevail are taken into con- 
 sideration, and in the light of the recent Met- 
 ropolitan Street Railway jury balloting 
 frauds, if such a verdict was not a vindication 
 I would like to know the definition of the word 
 vindication. 
 
 This petty, insignificant misdemeanor, this 
 trivial offense for which any owner of flat 
 property might at any time be held account- 
 able, is the only offense for which I was ever 
 adjudged guilty. Moreover, it is the only 
 thing, civil or criminal, for which I was 
 ever placed on trial, and yet columns have 
 been written, written by men who were paid 
 because they could write, because they pos- 
 sessed the faculty of writing sensationally. To 
 write as I am writing, the truth, is easy. A 
 
 IOO 
 
schoolboy, with the facts before him, could re- 
 cord the truth, but to artistically distort the 
 truth requires talent. The newspaper scribes 
 who have featured me all possessed talent, and 
 as a result of their aptitude in juggling words, 
 in making white appear black, thousands have 
 not only been led to talk against me, but to be- 
 lieve the lies these gifted writers have written. 
 The punctuation of a sentence can alter its 
 meaning, and the people have read these mis- 
 leading sentences and have talked; talked be- 
 hind my back and have insinuated and in- 
 timated and suspected and surmised and pre- 
 sumed and assumed and asserted and declared 
 that the innuendoes which have been heaped 
 upon me were true, but what have they 
 proved? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! And 
 what is more, no person, living or dead, ever 
 has proved anything. From the day I 
 was born, from the day I left my native town 
 — New Haven — and came here, to New York, 
 to earn my own livelihood, a boy of fifteen, 
 down to the day of my trial, down to the pres- 
 ent day (1909) , no human being has ever been 
 able to produce a scintilla of evidence to prove 
 or to show, or even tending to show, that I was 
 not, and am not, an honest man, a law-abiding 
 man, and a man of decent moral character. 
 
 IOI 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NOT long, only a few minutes, after the ver- 
 dict had been brought in, and the afternoon 
 papers issued extras proclaiming "FLAGG 
 GUILTY" — "My God, he's guilty!" certain 
 people said as they rolled up their eyes, and 
 spoke in stage whispers. But guilty of what? 
 is the question, and to this day not one person 
 in a thousand can answer that question. The 
 public is wholly ignorant of the circumstances 
 surrounding my case. Even those, that is, 
 some of those who should have made it their 
 business to ascertain the truth before placing 
 me under a ban, know little or nothing about 
 the matter. There are two sides to every story, 
 and any person who prides himself on being 
 just should not give credence to one side un- 
 less familiar with the other. This is the first 
 time that the other, my side, has appeared in 
 print. But do not imagine that I am posing 
 as a martyr. 
 
 102 
 
The wrongs endured by me are trivial com- 
 pared to the woes of some others. I am only 
 one, and there are thousands. There is not a 
 day in the year in which mistakes do not 
 occur; sometimes intentionally, sometimes un- 
 intentionally. In the name of law and justice 
 unjust acts are constantly being committed. In 
 the name and under the head of news false- 
 hoods are constantly being circulated. Had 
 the press informed the people of the real 
 offense for which I was adjudged guilty I 
 would make no protest; but for the sake of 
 sensationalism, which means circulation, the 
 truth was perverted by the press. 
 
 From a newspaper editor's standpoint noth- 
 ing succeeds like circulation, and what do these 
 editors care for me? I have sued half the 
 newspapers in the City; and as I have never 
 instituted a libel suit without provocation, I 
 have never lost one. Yet whatever cash dam- 
 ages I have received or may receive will not 
 obliterate from the minds of the persons who 
 have read the false articles the impressions 
 which they have formed. Nothing will ap- 
 pear in the newspapers to show that these 
 articles were false and that the publishers had 
 to pay damages for publishing them. The 
 
 103 
 
editors of these papers would hardly consider 
 such news sufficiently sensational to interest 
 the public. At the present time I have libel 
 suits pending against the New York Times, 
 the New York Sun, the Evening World, the 
 Morning Telegraph, and I have obtained a 
 judgment against the New York Herald. But 
 it is not alone the press; I have other damage 
 suits. Certain persons intrusted by the people 
 to administer the law impartially have been 
 partial in their treatment of me. Yet I am 
 told that they "let me down lightly" ; I did not 
 lose my life. When I think of the "police 
 stool-pigeons" and the powerful and corrupt 
 police influence which was brought to bear 
 against me, I suppose I ought to be thankful 
 that I am still on earth. 
 
 It would be interesting to me if some per- 
 son, who could, would explain why they took 
 my case, a paltry misdemeanor, to the General 
 Sessions Court; a tribunal in which only fel- 
 ons and murderers are tried. The court rec- 
 cords show that no person accused of a mis- 
 demeanor of the character of which I was ac- 
 cused was ever tried there before or has ever 
 been tried there since. 
 
 What kind of political influence enabled 
 
 104 
 
them to block the wheels of this great temple 
 of justice for almost a fortnight, while the 
 District Attorneys were wrangling with my 
 attorneys over the morality of my tenants? 
 
 Why was it that the judges exacted from me 
 bail bonds ten times as large, ten times as great 
 as was ever known to have been exacted from 
 persons charged with misdemeanors? The 
 court records show that the District Attorney 
 and his assistants argued for over an hour in 
 order to induce Judge Newberger to refuse in 
 my case, as security for ten thousand dollars, a 
 bond backed by an equity of one hundred and 
 twenty thousand dollars on improved New 
 York City property. 
 
 I quote the words of my lawyer when ad- 
 dressing the District Attorney in open court: — 
 ["I will put the District Attorney's office to 
 the challenge that there is not a man indicted 
 for manslaughter to-day, who is on the records 
 of the District Attorney's office, whose bail ap- 
 proximates that amount."] 
 
 Why should they have demanded of me free 
 and clear property appraised by the City at 
 ten times the amount of the bond required? 
 The records show that in my case they would 
 not accept real estate at its intrinsic value, but 
 
 105 
 
Stood on legal technicalities anci would only 
 pass property when its officially appraised city 
 value exceeded by ten the bond demanded. 
 Why should they discriminate against and 
 make an exception of me? The penalty in- 
 flicted for a first offense is usually less severe 
 than for a second. Why was this rule not ap- 
 plicable in my case? The court records show 
 that the extreme penalty ever imposed for a 
 similar first offense (maintaining a nuisance) 
 was ten days or ten dollars ; if a bum, ten days 
 "on the Island"; if a gentleman, a ten-dollar 
 fine only. But see what they did to me! Does 
 the law seek to persecute or degrade a person 
 before he is tried, or is a person in the eyes of 
 the law to be regarded as innocent until 
 proven guilty? At divers times, two years be- 
 fore I could force them to bring my case to 
 trial, they dragged me through the streets like 
 some captured outlaw. I was, and I am, a 
 citizen of the United States. I was charged 
 with an offense the nature of which was not 
 serious. Had I been adjudged guilty of every 
 count, in every indictment found against me, I 
 would still have been a citizen and entitled to 
 all the rights of a citizen. 
 
 This is the truth — this is the law. There- 
 
 106 
 
fore, is there a law-abiding person in the 
 United States who has the temerity to say that 
 he approves of a fellow-citizen being humili- 
 acted in broad daylight, on the public streets as 
 I was? Unless you approve of this form of 
 police persecution you should not decry and 
 help to bring discredit on those who have been 
 subjected to it. 
 
 The people as a whole have nothing against 
 me and it was the will of the people that I 
 should have a fair trial ; but in my case, as in 
 many others, it so happened that the servants 
 of the people (the police) betrayed the con- 
 fidence of the people and resorted to knavery 
 and trickery. And why? Why were the police 
 so bitterly disposed toward me? I will tell 
 you. It was because I would not be cowed by 
 them and submit to their blackmailing de- 
 mands; that's why. No honorable man, inno- 
 cent of wrongdoing, would submit; but a dis- 
 honorable man, guilty of wrongdoing, would 
 pay "hush-money" to continue an unlawful 
 business. I wouldn't, because my business was 
 lawful ; and if on this account they, the police, 
 with the help of the newspapers, succeeded in 
 blasting my reputation, do you consider it just 
 to join in with them and so assist in keeping 
 
 107 
 
me down? All I ask is fair play; give your 
 fellow-citizen a fair chance; do not "damn 
 him" without knowing why; without being 
 able to give a reason for doing so. 
 
 From first to last, all through, from begin- 
 ning to end, even unto the present day, I have 
 been persecuted — not prosecuted in an open 
 and manly way; and it is about time there 
 should be a "let up." 
 
 In January of last year, 1908, 1 leased offices 
 in the Century Building, 1 West Thirty-fourth 
 street, New York City, but before paying the 
 rent it was understood with the landlord — Mr. 
 Minturn Post Collins — and in the presence of 
 three witnesses, Mr. Edward L. Schiller, Mr. 
 Henry A. Jackson and Mr. William B. Reed, 
 Jr., that on the first day of May, this year, I 
 was to have two additional offices adjoining 
 the three I had already leased. I wanted this 
 put in writing, but was assured that Mr. Col- 
 lins' word was as good as his bond. Before I 
 had been in his building many hours, or days, 
 as the case may be, his tenants, or quite a num- 
 ber of them congregated and commenced to 
 "chew the rag," just as if I had no rights, and 
 should not be permitted to occupy offices in 
 that, or in any other building, and engage in 
 
 108 
 
legitimate business for the purpose of making 
 a living. These behind-the-back aspersions 
 worried my partners. Personally, I make it a 
 point not to worry about anything if by any 
 possibility I can school myself against it, and I 
 attribute my good health to the fact that I 
 rarely, if ever, have worried. I have not been 
 sick forty minutes in forty years; that is, sick 
 enough to be in bed. Superstitious persons tell 
 me I should "knock on wood" whenever I 
 make this assertion. They mean well but fail to 
 comprehend that the less superstition we have 
 the nearer civilized we are. 
 
 Ailments of all kinds can usually be traced 
 to carelessness, abuse, or stupidity. 
 
 There would be less stupidity in matters re- 
 lating to health were it not considered respect- 
 able to be sick. 
 
 For thirty-five years I have lived in New 
 York City. For thirty years I have been my 
 own master; that is, have worked for myself; 
 and, not counting a trip abroad, partially on 
 business and partially on pleasure, have given 
 myself two vacations — a ten- and a five-day 
 outing. It's not work that kills us. It's 
 recreation. Barring these fifteen days I have 
 not missed a day from business (when in busi- 
 
 109 
 
ness) in all these years. Is this fact not suf- 
 ficient to explode the assumption that I am a 
 confirmed rake? Because I do not go through 
 life with a despondent and care-worn expres- 
 sion on my face; because I appreciate good 
 company and good fellowship, and drink in 
 moderation, is that evidence that I am a liber- 
 tine? I am not ashamed to admit that I enjoy 
 life and the good things in it to the utmost. 
 There are but few days in my life that I would 
 not like to go back to and live over. 
 
 No person can get out of life all that there 
 is in it if he takes things too seriously, if he 
 attaches undue importance to matters that 
 ought to be regarded as trifles- Sensitive per- 
 sons suffer. We should be philosophical in 
 all things and under all circumstances, and 
 should not forget that cruel, cutting words 
 usually leave a deeper wound in the heart of 
 the one who utters them than in the heart of 
 the one to whom they are uttered. 
 
 It may not be pleasant to be vilified, but if 
 it affords pleasure to others let them "damn 
 away." I do not like it; I want to stop it; I 
 am going to stop it if I can ; but if I cannot I 
 am not going to fret over it. I do not propose 
 to dedicate — to set apart — my life to worry. 
 
 TTO 
 
This is what I said to my partners, at i West 
 Thirty-fourth street, and I meant every word 
 of it. I also told them that life was too short 
 for me to waste my time in giving Collins or 
 his tenants a history of my life. It is exhaust- 
 ing to have to keep explaining all the time how 
 good I am and how wicked and unjust others 
 are. I am sick of extolling my own virtues, 
 orally, and this is why I have put them in book 
 form. I do not expect that the book will in- 
 terest the general public and have a sale. I'm 
 not blackening the reputation of men for 
 money. (I am not a newspaper reporter.) 
 This is not the purpose of the book; but sale or 
 no sale it is going to save me an awful lot of 
 talking. 
 
 In the future whenever I am introduced to 
 a person who asks me if my first name is Jared 
 — I shall not answer him, I will simply hand 
 him a copy of this book and tell him to take 
 it and go home. After he has digested it, I 
 shall tell him to take it down to the Criminal 
 Courts Building and compare the names, dates, 
 and statements that it contains with the official 
 records. If he does so and if he has a con- 
 science it will smite him, and he will come 
 back to me and apologize. I may present Col- 
 
 in 
 
lins with a copy; he intimated that when I 
 signed the lease he did not know that J. stood 
 for Jared, but his tenants would not have it 
 that way; that was too much for them to swal- 
 low; they held that he must have frequently 
 seen my name in print; and it was the unani- 
 mous wish of the majority of the tenants at i 
 West Thirty-fourth street that I should be put 
 out of the building. Whereupon Minturn 
 Post Collins — the man whose word was sup- 
 posed to be as good as his bond — broke his 
 word and refused to rent to me or my partners 
 the two additional offices, as he had previously 
 agreed to do. It being imperative that we 
 should have more office space we were put to 
 the annoyance and expense of moving. This 
 was a small matter, but it illustrates how the 
 thing works; how for years I have been han- 
 dicapped; owing to the papers continually, 
 even now, publishing as being true the false 
 charges of the past. 
 
 Some persons are not what they seem and 
 they ought to be glad of it. Not one of Mr. 
 Collins' tenants knew me personally; not one 
 of them would have said a word prejudicial to 
 my character had he known the truth concern- 
 ing me; yet without knowing, without having 
 
 112 
 
heard even a part of my side of the story, they 
 succeeded in making Collins, who knew even 
 less about me, believe that the reputation of his 
 building would be ruined if he did not con- 
 trive in some way to induce me to vacate. 
 
 My other landlord, Mr. E. C. Sewall, — for 
 seventeen years the Treasurer of the Pond's 
 Extract Company — who knew all about me 
 (I having occupied offices in his building on 
 Fifth avenue for eleven years, he also having 
 an office in the same building) , thought well 
 enough of me to shift several of his tenants 
 around, in order to accommodate me with six 
 additional adjoining offices, when I left Mr. 
 Collins' building. 
 
 Mr. Collins did not keep faith with me, 
 simply because some of his tenants had seen my 
 name in print. 
 
 And it is owing to the fact that so many 
 have seen my name in print; have read the 
 malicious misrepresentations, misleading and 
 false accounts in the newspapers; have heard 
 of the uncalled for and unlawful public acts 
 of persecution by the police and other public 
 officials ; that they have formed an unfavorable 
 opinion of me. 
 
 As an example of the injustice visited upon 
 
 113 
 
me and of the discriminating enforcement of 
 the law, take the case of Police Captain James 
 K. Price and compare it with my own. I took 
 the stand in my own defense; I laid my life 
 bare; I was acquitted of every charge pertain- 
 ing to dishonesty or immorality ; but was found 
 guilty of a petty misdemeanor (maintaining a 
 nuisance), and immediately thereafter, on the 
 strength of this finding, Captain Price (with a 
 record so black that even the thought of taking 
 the stand in his own defense and having his past 
 life investigated was enough to make him run 
 like a "whipped cur") was acquitted of the 
 charge of felony. 
 
 The moment I was convicted (of maintain- 
 ing a nuisance) the indictment against Price 
 was dismissed; and he was not only reinstated, 
 but assigned to a precinct and placed in a posi- 
 tion where he could, with impunity, under the 
 protection and in the name of the law, per- 
 secute the man who had dared to accuse him, 
 in open court, while under oath upon the stand, 
 and to his face, of attempted blackmail. And, 
 be it said to his everlasting shame, he was not 
 dilatory in availing himself of the opportunity. 
 
 Clothe a desperado with police power and 
 you have a daredevil that no freebooter in the 
 
 114 
 
country can rival. He will draw the line at 
 nothing; he will put up any job; will swear 
 away any person's liberty or life to settle a 
 grudge. Price had a grudge against me and 
 with all the swaggering bravado and foul- 
 mouthed insolence of the average Tammany 
 Hall police captain vowed that he would have 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Now it appears that out of the wreck I had 
 saved one piece of property, consisting of two 
 flat buildings located on West Thirty-third 
 street, near Broadway. I held a forty- two 
 year ground lease on this property. It was 
 claimed by Price that one of my tenants living 
 in the building, known as 109, had invited 
 some friends to have a sociable game of cards. 
 He further claimed that a dispute arose and 
 one of the invited guests stabbed another in- 
 vited guest in the stomach with a hat pin. The 
 visitor, supposed to have been punctured in the 
 abdomen, could not be found. The alleged 
 stabber could be found but was not arrested. 
 The hat pin was alleged by Price to be the 
 property of the wife of the lessee of the flat, 
 both of whom put in a general denial. But I, 
 who was not on the premises at the time the 
 game was alleged to have been played, was, 
 
 "5 
 
without a charge having been preferred or a 
 
 warrant issued, arrested by Price and held 
 without bonds for examination on the ground 
 that I was an accessory before the fact; in 
 other words, implicated in what might prove 
 to be murder. 
 
 I had never posed as a saint, but this imputa- 
 tion, murder in any degree, was a little too 
 much. It was the "straw that broke the camel's 
 back;" and although Price was reprimanded 
 by the Judge and the case thrown out of court, 
 I then and there "threw up the sponge ;" threw 
 away my forty-two year ground lease (which 
 has since sold at an advance over the price 
 which it had cost me of one hundred thousand 
 dollars ) and quit the flat business a bankrupt. 
 
 Tell a person you are a failure and he will 
 believe you; lose your nerve and you are 
 doomed. I did not feel like admitting that I 
 was a failure, yet I had a lurking idea that I 
 was not what might be termed a blooming suc- 
 cess. I felt like taking the "rest cure," and for 
 a year or two I did nothing and made little or 
 no attempt to do anything. The thought of 
 seeking a clerical position did not enter my 
 head. Years ago, when a boy, I had been em- 
 ployed for five years by Frank Work, the 
 
 116 
 
multi-millionaire Wall street speculator, to 
 keep his purchases and sales book. But, since 
 the age of twenty, I had not worked on a sal- 
 ary ; and, money or no money, had no intention 
 of being a clerk. 
 
 When a person ceases to try, ceases to strug- 
 gle, life becomes a struggle, and these were try- 
 ing times for me. Every bit of my former en- 
 thusiasm seemed to be knocked out of me, and 
 when a person loses his enthusiam he loses his 
 opportunities; and yet I kept alive, lived for a 
 year or two without knowing how I lived. 
 Then things, instead of getting better, got 
 worse; and I existed, for a year or two, with- 
 out knowing how I existed. 
 
 Had any member of my family, at that time, 
 known the position in which I was placed, he 
 or she would have come to my rescue. But as 
 I felt that I had no one to blame but myself I 
 kept to myself. In making this statement I am 
 not exonerating the police or the newspapers, 
 but the members of my family and my 
 friends. I had friends, but they were few and 
 far between and growing beautifully less day 
 by day. Friends will stick "tighter than glue" 
 to a rich man, but if a person's resources are 
 circumscribed it behooves him to keep making 
 
 in 
 
new friends all the time, otherwise in a short 
 time he will find himself sitting high and dry 
 without a friend in the world. 
 
 In 1898 I found myself sitting in a small 
 room on the top floor of a building that could 
 not be called modern. I had a few callers, not 
 counting creditors, and one of these callers was 
 named George D. Smith. Smith is not an as- 
 sumed title taken for this occasion. Smith was 
 his name, and Smith was a friend, and is to this 
 day. Smith would work for a salary when he 
 could get it. When he could not he would 
 work without it, and it was due to this noble 
 trait in his character that he worked for me so 
 many years. 
 
 He was with me when I was up in the world, 
 and he was with me when I was down in the 
 world; he was with me when I was a creditor; 
 when I was a debtor, and when hundreds of my 
 creditors were howling around me like raven- 
 ous wolves ; he was with me when I ascended 
 from the depths of poverty; and he was with 
 me when I descended to the depths of poverty ; 
 he was with me when I dined at Delmonico's ; 
 when I dined at the Dairy Kitchen; and when 
 I dined on a loaf of bread; but through it all, 
 
 118 
 
in fair weather and in foul, he was always the 
 same — cheerful and considerate. 
 
 The first day he walked into my top story 
 room he was considerate — he had a loaf of 
 bread under his arm — he did not know 
 whether I had dined, and during our repast 
 the following conversation took place: 
 
 "What do they tax you for this place?" 
 asked Smith. 
 
 "Ten dollars," said I. 
 
 "Not a week?" 
 
 "No— a month." 
 
 "And how long have you been here?" 
 "Almost a month." 
 
 "Did you have to pay any money on account 
 of the rent before taking possession?" 
 "Paid all." 
 
 "All? In advance?" asked Smith. 
 
 "We are not all gifted," said I. "You are 
 the only person with whom I am acquainted 
 possessing the faculty of residing in this town 
 without paying rent." 
 
 "I pay when I can; when I can't I do the 
 next best thing — move — you know how I am 
 situated," said Smith. 
 
 "Yes, we're both in the same boat, and on 
 the first of the month I may move. Tom, the 
 
 119 
 
colored watchman, tells me the landlord is 
 
 going to ask me to vacate." 
 
 "And pray why? You paid one month's 
 rent," said Smith. "You must have a queer 
 landlord if he is afraid to trust you for the 
 next three months." 
 
 "That's not it," I answered. "It's not a 
 question of money but of respectability." 
 
 Then I explained how several of my former 
 tenants, with whom Smith was acquainted, 
 had, hearing that I was in hard luck, called, 
 not to ask if there was something they might do 
 for me; but to do something — to actually offer 
 me money. Until then I did not appreciate the 
 fact that there was so much goodness in the 
 world. And I continued while Smith listened: 
 "Some of his, the landlord's, straight-laced ten- 
 ants, probably having read and believed with- 
 out knowing, took it for granted that my cal- 
 lers were crooked. They probably INTIMATED. 
 Neighbors like to intimate things, and one old 
 fossil, occupying an office on the floor below, 
 INTIMATED that I was fond of the women." 
 
 "Fond of the women," soliloquized Smith, 
 "and a man who is not fond of them is no man, 
 or he is a man with a diseased mind. Must you 
 live the life of a hermit? Have you no right 
 
 120 
 
to receive callers? Suppose you were doing 
 business here and had customers, callers, would 
 your landlord object?" 
 
 "Perhaps not," I replied. 
 
 "Well then," said Smith, "why not tell him 
 that you are doing business? Why not call 
 yourself a real-estate, or a theatrical agent. A 
 theatrical agent must have callers ; no callers, 
 no business; no business, no rent." 
 
 "A theatrical agent!" It was a happy 
 thought, and I decided to be one, or at all 
 events to call myself one. 
 
 "And," said Smith, "if I meet any of our old 
 friends, dramatically disposed, I will send 
 them up. I will tell them you are a theatrical 
 agent." 
 
 "Do it," said I. "I'm sick of idleness; we 
 will rig up a sign. What will a modest little 
 tin one cost?" 
 
 "Fifty cents or a dollar, and I know a sign 
 painter who will trust us," said Smith. "You 
 know the fellow who made your large Twenty- 
 third street sign. He got his money — two hun- 
 dred and twenty-five dollars — and I told you, 
 at the time, it was extortion ; but you handed 
 over a check without a word, and I rather 
 
 121 
 
guess that fellow would be only too pleased to 
 paint any sign you might order." 
 
 The next day a tin sign was tacked on the 
 jamb of my room door in such a manner as 
 to project out in the hall. It was not a pre- 
 tentious sign — simply J. Flagg, Theatrical 
 Agent — but it was hardly up before the land- 
 lord came up. Any one with half an eye could 
 see that he was agitated, and to aggravate mat- 
 ters just at this crucial moment I could see 
 Smith's smiling countenance coming down the 
 long hall followed by three young women, all 
 crazy to go on the stage. Some think a person 
 must be crazy to want to go on the stage. 
 
 Out of deference to their presence, as Smith 
 and his clients took possession of my office, the 
 landlord requested me to step into the hall, and 
 forthwith proceeded to lay down the law in a 
 subdued but determined voice. 
 
 "A theatrical agent! I would not have one 
 in my building — not at double the rent. I did 
 not know you were one." And I could not tell 
 him I did not know it myself. There was the 
 sign and there were the would-be chorus girls ; 
 but I assured him my business was limited, and 
 this in a measure produced a soothing effect on 
 his nerves. I spoke the truth, my business was 
 
 122 
 
certainly limited. I had none and knew no 
 more about the theatrical business than the 
 man in the moon, and my colleague — Smith — 
 knew less. Therefore, had Smith not been 
 a truly remarkable borrower, as well 
 as a wonderful financier, it is doubtful if 
 the rent would ever have been paid; but as 
 it was we managed to "hang on," after a 
 fashion, while three months were rolling by. 
 
 One day, when entering the building, I met 
 our landlord going out, and he enquired how 
 business was. It was quiet, and he remarked 
 encouragingly that "your season will soon be 
 opening; Spring is coming on and managers 
 will then be engaging people for their Fall 
 productions." 
 
 I acquiesced, although this was news to me, 
 and I lost no time in imparting the information 
 to Smith. "If," said I, "the season is about to 
 open and if I am a theatrical agent, why not be 
 one?" You never get anywhere if you do not 
 start, and I sent Smith out to discover, if pos- 
 sible, how the business was conducted. He re- 
 ported that it was a knotty proposition. The 
 theatrical agents of this city were organized ; 
 it took money to join their union. I was not a 
 member, and if I were it would do me no 
 
 "3 
 
good; most of the agents had been established 
 for years, and were personally acquainted with 
 the managers. When an agent procured 
 "talent" for a manager he exacted a commis- 
 sion equal to one-half of one week's salary. The 
 custom was for the manager to deduct this 
 amount from the second week's salary and re- 
 mit to the agent. Certain managers were 
 friendly with certain agents ; they were clan- 
 nish and an outsider would stand a poor chance 
 of "butting in." 
 
 Nevertheless, I decided to "butt," and in- 
 serted an advertisement in a newspaper, which 
 read as follows: "Attractive young women 
 wanted for light opera chorus," etc., etc. 
 
 In response to this advertisement the first 
 few callers did not seem sufficiently attractive 
 in appearance for stage work, and I passed 
 them out, but the third advertisement brought 
 a living picture — lima Salter. As Smith 
 later remarked, this young woman was so en- 
 trancing he almost fell over in a trance when 
 he saw her. It was the ambition of her life to 
 go on the stage, she said. And we said, "If we 
 cannot put you on we had better retire from 
 business." "But I cannot sing," she added, and 
 
 124 
 
I told her "not to let a little thing like that 
 worry her. If the manager to whom I propose 
 giving you a letter of introduction knows his 
 business he will engage you whether you know 
 how to sing or not." This was said with the 
 assurance of one who does not know what he 
 is talking about. Yet I had an idea that the- 
 atrical managers were often brought in touch 
 with the human side of life and must therefore 
 be human. I felt that any one of them, if in his 
 power to do so, would, without preaching a 
 sermon, extend a helping hand to this seven- 
 teen-year-old girl who was "striking out" in 
 the world for herself, and who was my first 
 real stage applicant; that is, the first I accepted 
 with the intention of endeavoring to place on 
 the stage. 
 
 In those days I was not only personally un- 
 acquainted with the theatrical managers, but 
 did not even know their names. I was aware, 
 however, that there was a man named Oscar 
 Hammerstein who owned a few theatres, and 
 without knowing how he might take it, gave 
 Miss Salter a letter of introduction to him, in 
 which I assured him that any attention shown 
 the young woman would be appreciated by me. 
 "You tell him that Mr. Flagg sent you up," I 
 
 125 
 
said; "give him this letter and then come back 
 and report to me." 
 
 Both Smith and myself were curious to 
 know what the outcome would be, and we 
 waited and waited, the hours rolled by, but the 
 young woman did not return. It was eleven 
 a. m. when she left our office. Smith had been 
 out and returned and advised me to "forget it." 
 "We shall never see her again," he said. But 
 just then we heard the rustling of a woman's 
 skirt coming down the hall, apparently in a 
 hurry, and the next moment she burst into our 
 office like a ray of sunshine, with face all aglow 
 and eyes sparkling. Before we could offer her 
 a chair she had dropped into one. "I am en- 
 gaged," she exclaimed, "engaged! oh! I can- 
 not believe it — it seems like a dream, but here 
 is the contract — forty weeks — all costumes fur- 
 nished — nothing to buy. Oh! I'm so happy; 
 this is the happiest day of my life." And then 
 her eyes became moist, she smiled, she laughed, 
 she put her handkerchief to her eyes, she strug- 
 gled to keep the tears back, but there was no 
 stopping them, and she cried for joy. This joy 
 was so infectious that even Smith felt con- 
 strained to blow his nose. "Calm yourself, my 
 child ; wipe your eyes and tell us all about it," 
 
 126 
 
I said. "In the first place, what detained you 
 so long?" "I know I promised to come 
 straight back, but I had to go home — I could 
 not help it — I could not wait, I wanted to tell 
 Mother." 
 
 "Is your father living?" I asked. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Have you any brothers?" 
 "A little one." 
 
 "And you live with your mother and little 
 brother?" 
 
 "Yes," she said, "and eighteen dollars a 
 week! Look! There it is typewritten in the 
 agreement; that is to be my salary — eighteen 
 dollars! And it means so much, so much to 
 us"; and again the tears commenced to "well 
 up" in her beautiful, but inflamed eyes. 
 
 No man likes to see a woman cry, and with- 
 out intending to be harsh, I commanded her to 
 stop it, and "get down to business" and tell us 
 how she did it. 
 
 "You did it," she said, "you gave me the 
 letter — it was owing to your influence with 
 Mr. Hammerstein that I was accepted." 
 
 Smith looked at me and I looked at Smith, 
 neither of us smiled. "Well now tell us. You 
 
 127 
 
first went to the stage door of the Victoria 
 Theatre?" 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And told the man at the door that you 
 wished to see Mr. Hammerstein?" 
 
 "Yes, that I had a letter and the man asked 
 me where I got it. I told him that it was a 
 letter of introduction to Mr. Hammerstein, 
 signed by Mr. Flagg, the Theatrical Agent." 
 
 "But that man does not know me." 
 
 "He seemed to; soon as I mentioned your 
 name, he said that was all right and I could 
 go in." 
 
 "And you went in?" 
 
 "Yes, the doorkeeper pointed to a man at 
 work on the stage and told me to go over and 
 give him the letter — that he was Mr. Ham- 
 merstein. It was so dark I could hardly see — 
 coming in from the sunlight — but I walked 
 over and saw a man in his shirt sleeves, on his 
 knees, at work cutting a hole in the stage. I 
 supposed he was some carpenter and asked him 
 if he could tell me where I could find Mr. 
 Hammerstein. He said I was talking to him. 
 I thought it strange that Mr. Hammerstein 
 should have on overalls, and asked if he was 
 Mr. Oscar Hammerstein. He said he was 
 
 128 
 
sorry to say that that was his name, and he kept 
 right on working. I waited until he had 
 finished sawing a board and then when he 
 looked up I gave him your letter." 
 "Did he read it?" 
 
 "Why, of course, and he told me to follow 
 him. We walked past the boxes down into the 
 orchestra and up an aisle to his private office." 
 
 "And?" 
 
 "He asked me if I had ever been on the stage 
 and I told him I never had." 
 
 "That was a mistake," ejaculated Smith. 
 
 No. Had Miss lima attempted to mislead 
 him he would have tripped her up in a minute. 
 She was not talking to a fool. He would 
 have wanted to know, when, where, and with 
 whom. 
 
 "He inquired if I could sing and I said no; 
 then he asked me if I could dance and I said 
 no." 
 
 "And what then?" 
 
 "Then he gave me a letter and told me if I 
 did not procure an engagement to drop in and 
 see him next week. The letter was addressed 
 to Mr. Witmark." 
 
 "Witmark! What Witmark?" 
 
 129 
 
"The Witmark Musical Library and 
 Agency." 
 
 "What did Mr. Witmark say to you?" 
 
 "He asked me if I could sing, and I told him 
 I could not." 
 
 "Why did you say that? — " said Smith. 
 
 "Why do you interrupt?" said I; and Miss 
 lima proceeded to tell us how Mr. Witmark 
 had given her a card to Mr. Ashland. 
 
 "Ashland! What Ashland?" 
 
 "Mr. W. Ashland — manager of the Wit- 
 mark Agency." 
 
 "And what did he have to say?" 
 
 "He wanted to know if I was an alto or a 
 contralto or a soprano, and I told him I wasn't 
 anything." 
 
 "And what then?" 
 
 "Then he thought I might answer the pur- 
 pose and he gave me a letter to Mr. Aborn." 
 
 "Aborn! What Aborn?" 
 
 "The Aborn Opera Company." 
 
 "And what did he want?" 
 
 "He wanted to know what I could do." 
 
 "And when you told him you couldn't do 
 anything?" 
 
 "He signed the contract — there is his name 
 — and Wednesday I am to begin rehearsing at 
 
 130 
 
ffie Herald Square Theatre. Isn't it grand? 
 j ust think of it! I can hardly wait for the day 
 to come. How shall I ever repay you for your 
 kindness? To-morrow Mother is coming 
 down to see you — to thank you — to arrange 
 matters — to pay you." 
 
 "Do not talk about pay; we are indebted to 
 you ; you have taught us more about the busi- 
 ness than we ever knew before." 
 
 "Yes — damn the pay," said Smith. "These 
 names and these addresses are worth money to 
 us. We should pay you, not you us ;" and then, 
 apprehensive lest I should think him too lib- 
 eral, without making it clear to lima, he gave 
 me to understand that he had, when out, earlier 
 in the afternoon effected an extension of credit 
 with the groceryman, and we were now on 
 "easy street" for at least two days to come. 
 
 lima Salter was the first person ever placed 
 by me, directly or indirectly, on the stage; and 
 as I look now at her picture, which she signed 
 and gave to me with her best wishes years ago, 
 it takes me back to the old tin sign, the little 
 old dingy office looking out on the air shaft, 
 and the loaf of bread. 
 
 This was one case; I could cite hundreds — 
 yes, thousands — some less, some more pathetic; ' 
 
 131 
 
I could fill volumes ; I could write and I could 
 tell of successes and of failures, of hopes 
 blasted and of hopes realized; I could mention 
 names now known on both sides of the water, 
 which were unheard of when first entered on 
 my books. I have placed young women and 
 young men on the stage who have raised them- 
 selves and those dear to them from want to 
 affluence; but these were the exceptions; the 
 majority only made a living, yet were none the 
 less grateful ; and I can show many, many let- 
 ters, sincere, honest, letters of heartfelt grat- 
 itude, which any man might feel proud to own. 
 Therefore, if you believe that happiness con- 
 sists in making others happy, you can under- 
 stand how happy I was during the years in 
 which I was engaged in the Theatrical Agency 
 business. They were the six happiest years of 
 my life. 
 
 132 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE next day Mrs. Salter and her daughter 
 called to adjust what they believed was their 
 indebtedness to me. I explained it was the 
 Witmark Agency that had procured the en- 
 gagement, and that Mr. Witmark would ex- 
 pect a commission; half of Miss Ilma's second 
 week's salary; but that it would not be pay- 
 able until the second week's salary had actu- 
 ally been earned and paid. Although Mrs. 
 Salter agreed that this was proper, yet she 
 thought I also should be compensated, as it 
 was due to my personal influence with Mr. 
 Hammerstein that lima had met with success. 
 "He was so very considerate to my daughter 
 after reading your note of introduction," she 
 said. But I explained that Mr. Hammerstein 
 did not know me; would not know me if he 
 should meet me face to face. Furthermore, I 
 informed her that I did not know Mr. Wit- 
 
 133 
 
mark, or Mr. Ashland, or Mr. Aborn; never 
 had heard of them until Miss lima enlightened 
 me. 
 
 This appeared to stagger her, but neverthe- 
 less she was insistent and left a five-dollar bill 
 on my desk. It seemed a shame to take the 
 money. 
 
 The next best thing to making money is to 
 think that you are going to, and after this little 
 episode, both Smith and myself were sure that 
 there was money in the business. Three months 
 later we were not so sanguine. The season for 
 engaging stage people had opened and closed, 
 and our gross receipts, including the five dol- 
 lars previously referred to, had only amounted 
 to fifteen dollars. This was pretty "poor pick- 
 ing;" we both looked pretty seedy; it seemed 
 like a forlorn hope; seemed as if we could not 
 hold out another day, and yet we struggled on ; 
 I kept working and Smith kept borrowing. 
 After six months of this "hand-to-mouth" busi- 
 ness we decided to drop the price from five to 
 two dollars, and our receipts quadrupled. This 
 was not saying much, but it enabled us to come 
 a little nearer to making ends meet. 
 
 Occasionally, some actor out of a job would 
 drop in and quote Shakespeare to us; and 
 
 134 
 
owing to our forbearance, our ability to listen, 
 and also to the fact that we invariably ex- 
 pressed admiration, we became more or less 
 popular with these tragedians, and they did us 
 many a good turn. Not that we could bor- 
 row from them; we did not make the attempt, 
 for it is well known in the Profession that a 
 tragedian seldom, if ever, eats. But through 
 them we attained an insight into the business 
 which was of ultimate value to us. They edu- 
 cated us, kept us posted, and "put us wise" on 
 many points. Through them we discovered 
 that the Witmarks were not only one of the 
 most reliable agencies in the city, but the 
 largest. We also discovered that Mr. Ash- 
 land, who for years has had charge of the Wit- 
 mark's agency department, was universally 
 liked. Nothing seemed to ruffle him, not even 
 when we sent him an applicant unfitted for the 
 stage. If, after trying her voice he found it to 
 be impossible, he had the knack of passing her 
 out without offending her, and even such ap- 
 plicants invariably spoke of him in the high- 
 est terms. This made it easy for us ; it enabled 
 us to transact what little business we did with- 
 out friction, without any unpleasantness. 
 "Why do you not go up and pay your re- 
 
 135 
 
spects to Mr. Ashland?" Smith would say to 
 me. And I would say to Smith, "What's the 
 use? He is doing all right, placing eight out 
 of every ten we send up; why not let well 
 enough alone?" And so the seasons rolled by 
 until a new spring season opened. Then busi- 
 ness "picked up" a little ; we were eating better 
 and felt better; we even went so far as to in- 
 quire the cost of having a telephone placed in 
 our office. 
 
 It was just about this time that Mr. Ashland 
 wrote a letter in which he requested me not to 
 send stage applicants to him after four p. m., 
 as he was always busy attending to his cor- 
 respondence between the hours of four and six 
 o'clock. This letter proved valuable; it was 
 prima facie evidence that we now had a real 
 connection with a real theatrical firm. It was 
 typewritten on a Witmark Musical Library 
 and Agency letter head, and to preserve it I 
 had it framed. 
 
 We could now say to our customers, "Pay us 
 our fee — two dollars cash in advance — and if 
 you are not satisfied with the position come 
 back and we will refund to you your money." 
 "But," we would add, "there is not much like- 
 lihood of our being obliged to do this, as you 
 
 136 
 
can see by this letter we are transacting busi- 
 ness with the leading theatrical agency of the 
 city." Then the framed letter would be handed 
 to the applicant to peruse. It worked won- 
 ders; it was a turning point in our business — 
 this Ashland letter — and one week after re- 
 ceiving it I signed a contract with the tele- 
 phone trust. 
 
 It was a great day for us, the day the tele- 
 phone was installed in our office. Not that we, 
 at this time, had any special use for the thing, 
 but others found it a convenience. 
 
 Some persons as soon as they see a telephone, 
 provided it is not in a public pay station, want 
 to use it. There are a great many telephone 
 beggars in the world. 
 
 Three years passed. Mr. Ashland did not 
 come to my office, nor did I go to his. We had 
 never met, but he knew my voice and I knew 
 his when talking over the telephone. We had 
 gradually, without contemplating it, almost 
 without knowing it, drifted into one of those 
 mutually advantageous arrangements which 
 often prove more lasting and more profitable 
 than a cast-iron signed contract. 
 
 One day Mr. Palmer of the Tarns Agency 
 called, and said he could use a few young 
 
 137 
 
women with good voices. This was a new con- 
 nection. A tragedian — a friend of ours — had 
 informed Mr. Palmer that when it came to 
 chorus singers we were headquarters. Then 
 other agents called, and a still greater outlet 
 opened to us. To meet this increased demand,' 
 I not only increased my New York City ad- 
 vertisements but also advertised in other large 
 cities. Finally, as by degrees it became "noised 
 about" that we could supply the demand, we 
 found ourselves doing business with all the 
 agents in the city; all the members (without 
 an exception) of the theatrical agents' union. 
 
 And so our business prospered, up, up, up, 
 doubling itself each year several times over. 
 Many an air castle eventually has been erected 
 on solid ground and we had come up on a 
 solid foundation. Our business had made its 
 own capital, and, instead of boards, at the ex- 
 piration of the first year we found ourselves 
 walking on ingrain carpet. At the end of the 
 second year tapestry Brussels; at the end of 
 the third year Wilton velvet; and at the end of 
 the fourth year the trouble had commenced. 
 It is said that women are the cause of all the 
 trouble in the world, and it was our young 
 women clients who brought on the trouble. 
 
 138 
 
Up to this time our business had been con- 
 fined to the theatrical agents. We had not 
 dealt with, and therefore were not known to, 
 theatrical managers. When an agent received 
 an order from a manager for chorus singers he, 
 the agent, would simply order us to send to his 
 office one or fifty or a hundred, as the case 
 might be. It was no trouble to him; he was 
 put to no expense in advertising, and he did not 
 have to pay us any part of his commissions. 
 
 It was true applicants who registered with 
 us were obliged to pay, in addition to the 
 agent's fee of one-half of the second week's 
 salary, our two-dollar registration fee. But 
 as we kept in touch with every theatrical agent 
 in the city, we knew just when and where to 
 send our clients. Therefore, we could not only 
 save them time, but a vast amount of tramp- 
 ing about, and as "time is money" the young 
 women and the young men considered it econ- 
 omy to pay this extra two-dollar registration 
 fee to us. 
 
 The regular theatrical agents, all along, had 
 been careful not to let the theatrical managers 
 know that the chorus singers they were engag- 
 ing through them (the agents) were in reality 
 my clients — that is, had passed through my 
 
 139 
 
office and registered before being sent by me 
 to the agents. 
 
 Naturally, the agents were not averse to re- 
 ceiving the glory, the prestige of seemingly 
 having so large a clientele as to be able to fill 
 any sized order without undue delay. At this 
 time I was expending money freely in the 
 newspapers, and it was these newspaper ad- 
 vertisements that brought the people to me, 
 and thus enabled me to execute promptly the 
 orders I received from the agents and, in turn, 
 enabled the agents to execute promptly the 
 orders they received from the managers. So 
 long as this state of affairs existed, continued, 
 the theatrical agents were my friends, and why 
 should they not be? They were making money 
 out of me; my clients were paying them ten 
 dollars while my clients were paying me two, 
 and yet more than half of my receipts were go- 
 ing back into the newspapers, whereas the 
 agents, owing to their friendly business rela- 
 tions with me, were not obliged to expend one 
 dollar in advertising. Furthermore, the agents 
 demanded from my clients (as was their cus- 
 tom with all stage people) an additional fee 
 for each engagement procured, but I only ex- 
 acted one two-dollar registration fee per year. 
 
 T40 
 
For this one and only fee I obligated myself to 
 procure, directly or indirectly, any number of 
 stage engagements that my clients might de- 
 sire during the year. 
 
 This charge was so moderate that without 
 solicitation on my part the majority of my 
 clients, as my books show, returned year after 
 year to do business with me and renew their 
 registration fee. It was owing to these con- 
 tinued renewals that I could see a prosperous 
 future opening up before me, and I was there- 
 fore content to "bide my time," even if the 
 theatrical agents did regard me as a conveni- 
 ence. It was because I was such a "good 
 thing," such a valuable asset to them, that they 
 kept my name under cover, and so kept 
 the theatrical managers from discovering the 
 true source from which the supply came. But 
 the young women (my clients) finally "let the 
 cat out of the bag," and then, as previously 
 stated, at the end of the fourth year, the trouble 
 commenced. 
 
 It happened this way: Before a company 
 goes on the road the agents through whom the 
 people in the company have been engaged are 
 permitted to attend the final dress rehearsal, 
 and at its completion the chorus is lined up on 
 
 141 
 
the stage, and the manager and his bookkeeper 
 and the theatrical agents go together down the 
 line and check off the names. This is done to 
 avoid errors in remitting commissions to the 
 agents. If an agent claims that he procured 
 the engagement for a certain person, and that 
 certain person disputes the claim, the matter is 
 adjusted there and then. But if no dispute 
 arises the person who obtained the engagement 
 signs an order authorizing the manager, the 
 employer, to deduct half of the second week's 
 salary and remit same to the agent entitled to 
 receive it. 
 
 To go down the line of a large chorus and 
 identify the right one, or the right dozen, is 
 no easy task. A brunette on the street might be 
 a chemical blonde on the stage, and a chestnut 
 brown might be a red-headed Titian. How- 
 ever, despite the makeups, were all the young 
 women truthful it would not be so difficult to 
 identify them. But unfortunately some women 
 are given to exaggeration (except when talking 
 of their own age) and some of these chorus 
 girls would "stretch the truth" and pretend 
 not to know their own names. They would 
 give the agent one name and the manager an- 
 other — a stage name — and at the last moment 
 
 T42 
 
"spring" still another, a new name, on both, by 
 exchanging names with each other; anything, 
 in fact, to mix matters and swindle the agent 
 out of his commissions. 
 
 It was during the "line ups," at the begin- 
 ning of the fall season, after I had been in busi- 
 ness four years, that my name was suddenly 
 brought to the attention of the leading man- 
 agers in New York City. I would receive a 
 telephone order from an agent; I might be 
 talking at the time, in my private office, to a 
 young woman ; forty or fifty more might be in 
 the waiting room. I would send the young 
 woman up to the agent and tell the office boy 
 to pass the others in to me, one at a time, in- 
 tending to send each one to the agent, but he — 
 the boy — would inform me that they had all 
 left; just gone; gone with the young woman I 
 had sent to the agent. But they had no inten- 
 tion of calling on the agent. Oh, no ! they were 
 going to call on the manager, and so evade pay- 
 ing the agent a commission. One was enough 
 to pay, and after she had called on the agent 
 and ascertained when and where to go she 
 would post the others. In this unfair way the 
 agent, instead of making commissions on forty 
 or fifty, would make commissions on only one. 
 
 143 
 
It was a "mean trick" for them to play on the 
 agent, and I tried in every way to prevent it 
 from being played on other agents with whom 
 I was doing business, for I knew it would ulti- 
 mately result in trouble all around; but I was 
 unsuccessful in my efforts ; I was outwitted at 
 every turn. There might be only two or three 
 young women in my office when an order came 
 in, and I would send them up, and thirty 
 minutes later the agent would "phone" to me 
 that only one had called, but that there were a 
 hundred or more at the theatre and that this 
 kind of business must stop. They were my 
 clients. I could not deny that fact, but how 
 they were "tipped off;" how they reached the 
 theatre in such a short space of time was an 
 enigma to me. Still I could not make the 
 agent believe this and I was blamed accord- 
 ingly. Seemingly, I had not acted in good 
 faith. It looked as if I was winking at, or de- 
 liberately joining in with, my clients to dupe 
 the agents; to deprive, to prevent them from 
 making commissions. And as a result of this 
 underhand business on the part of many of my 
 clients, when it came to the final "line up," 
 roll call, not merely in one theatre, but in all 
 the leading theatres and rehearsal halls of the 
 
 144 
 
city, I found myself placed in an awkward 
 position. 
 
 The fact that I was disgusted, not alone with 
 certain tricky clients, but with young women 
 who were not from my office, whom I did not 
 know, and yet claimed to be clients of mine, 
 did not help matters. 
 
 It did not help the agents; it simply made it 
 look so much worse, and the agents stood by, 
 inwardly berating me, while they heard my 
 name called out all along down the line. 
 
 A manager, or his bookkeeper, would say 
 
 to Miss "Whom do you belong to; 
 
 which agent sent you to us?" 
 
 "Mr. Flagg." * 
 
 "Flagg? We do not know him; never heard 
 of any such agent." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Flagg is my agent and he sent 
 me." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 "Mr. Flagg." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "Yes. Mr. Flagg, he's my agent, also." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 "Mr. Flagg." 
 
 "How is it with you?" 
 
 "Mr. Flagg." 
 
 145 
 
"And is Flagg your agent, too?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "And yours?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "And yours?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Well, who the blankety blank blank is 
 Flagg, anyway? We gave him no orders, and 
 we will pay him no commission." 
 
 "Mr. Flagg does not want any commission." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "He only charges two dollars a year, and 
 we have paid him; we can have all the stage 
 engagements we want." 
 
 This was news to the managers, and they 
 commenced to have visions ; commenced to put 
 two and two together; commenced to realize 
 that for some time back they had been employ- 
 ing my people, although engaging them 
 through the agents. It was now clear; they 
 could see it all, and henceforth they would 
 deal with me direct; they would cut out the 
 middleman — the agent — and so save the money 
 that had heretofore each year been paid to the 
 agents. 
 
 Subsequently, every large grand opera and 
 light comic opera manager in New York City 
 
 146 
 
commenced to do business with me. This is 
 a sweeping assertion, and yet I bar none; I in- 
 clude them all, and can show signed orders re- 
 ceived from them all. 
 
 Therefore, it can be seen that I had UNIN- 
 TENTIONALLY CURTAILED THE INCOME which 
 the agents had formerly received and counted 
 upon to help meet current and living expenses. 
 
 I had no patent on my way of doing business. 
 Any person so inclined could have adopted the 
 same method, only it might have proved a 
 trifle discouraging to him at the beginning, as 
 it did to me. Perhaps even more so, as he 
 would have to compete against me, whereas, 
 when I started, I had no one to compete 
 against. I did not try to compete with the 
 theatrical agents. I simply created, as it were, 
 a business for myself, along lines offering the 
 least resistance, and I called my business, my 
 establishment, a theatrical bureau of informa- 
 tion. There never had been such a bureau 
 and there may never be another. 
 
 When the theatrical agents of New York 
 City became apprehensive as to what might 
 happen to them, they set about to rectify what 
 they were pleased to term an evil. First they 
 called a meeting of the members of their 
 
 147 
 
Union; a committee of four was appointed to 
 call on me and, if possible, to induce me to join 
 their Union. These men were courteous and 
 placed the matter before me in every conceiv- 
 able light. They cross-questioned me and ascer- 
 tained that my advertising bills were large; 
 over two hundred dollars a week; and that, 
 owing to this expense, and the additional ex- 
 pense of circularizing the country, my net 
 profits, compared to the magnitude of my busi- 
 ness, were trivial. They asked me if it was my 
 desire to play the part of "dog in the manger," 
 and other pointed questions equally difficult 
 and disagreeable to answer. 
 
 I pleaded for time. Let me "sleep on it" 
 over night; and to-morrow, I said, I will give 
 you my answer; I will tell you if I will join 
 your Union. 
 
 That evening at dinner I talked the matter 
 over with Smith, and we both felt that there 
 was a storm brewing. We could feel it in the 
 air. "If we do not tie up with these agents 
 there is going to be trouble." "And if we do, 
 what then? inquired Smith. "We are 
 doomed," said I. "The day we join their 
 Union we are ruined; the moment we change 
 our method of doing business we shall have no 
 
 148 
 
business. But, if we continue on the lines we 
 have adopted, we shall soon have it all ; we are 
 the fashion; they are coming our way; but, if 
 we charge as much as the others charge, they 
 will go the other way." 
 
 Smith agreed with me, and the next day I 
 sent a letter of thanks to the agents for the 
 honor they had conferred in asking me to join 
 their Mutual Protective Association, but I 
 declined to do so. 
 
 A few weeks later, and ugly rumors com- 
 menced to float through the air. I heard 
 "things"; my friends heard ''things." But the 
 "things" that they had heard, and the "things" 
 that I had heard, the others (those who spread 
 the reports) had heard from others who also 
 claimed to have heard. It was all hearsay, 
 and it seemed as if I never should discover 
 the originators. But these things all "come 
 out in the wash." It is only necessary to keep/ 
 calm and to wait, and some time, some one will 
 say something, and you will know it all. I 
 remained calm and waited almost three years, 
 and I now know it all — the guilty and the 
 innocent. 
 
 To display enterprise and compete honor- 
 ably is commendable, but to resort to sneaking, 
 anonymous methods to "down" a competitor 
 
 149 
 
is contemptible. In my opinion any man who 
 .will resort to an anonymous communication 
 in order to kill the reputation of another per- 
 son is an assassin — as much of an assassin as 
 the coward who sneaks up from behind, with 
 a dagger, and stabs a man to death in the back. 
 
 By attending to my own affairs, I had built 
 up a business that threatened the very existence 
 of certain theatrical agents. At least, certain 
 ones believed such to be the case, but this did 
 not justify them in circulating dastardly lies 
 about me. I do not, and did not, accuse all the 
 members of the Agents' Union. I refrained 
 from accusing anyone until all the facts had 
 been placed before me, and I then became con- 
 vinced that some of the agents were honorable 
 men, but I regret to say I discovered that some 
 were devoid of all honor. It seems unbeliev- 
 able that men, however exasperated, could 
 resort to the despicable acts that were per- 
 petrated on me. In one day over thirty com- 
 plaining, anonymous letters were sent to edi- 
 tors of the newspapers in which I advertised. 
 These letters were written with a view of cut- 
 ting off my source of supply by having my 
 advertisements stopped. If rejected, I could 
 not advertise for stage applicants ; and my ad- 
 
 150 
 
vertisements, owing to these letters teeming 
 with false statements, were rejected. 
 
 But letter writing is a game that two can 
 play at, and I decided to try my hand; I de- 
 cided to send a little missive to the editors who 
 had received the anonymous communications. 
 It did not take me long to write it, and the fol- 
 lowing is a copy: 
 
 New York, 1905. 
 
 Business Manager: 
 
 Dear Sir — If the circulation of your paper 
 was doubtful, I would not trouble to write this 
 letter; but I know from experience it is a valu- 
 able advertising medium; important to the 
 welfare of my business, and I trust, therefore, 
 you will give this letter consideration. 
 
 For a long time I have advertised in your 
 paper, but a few months ago was warned by 
 certain persons (and if you wish, will send you 
 their names and addresses, but not for publica- 
 tion) that my advertisements would be rejected 
 not only by you, but by other managers of pa- 
 pers throughout the country. This warning 
 proved true, still I believe when you are ac- 
 quainted with the facts I shall be reinstated. 
 They are as follows: — September 9th, 1904, I 
 received a letter from the Theatrical Agents' 
 
 151 
 
Protective Association of New York City, re- 
 questing me to be present at a meeting of their 
 society, which was to be held at the Gilsey 
 House the following Tuesday at 8 p. m., in 
 parlor number eleven, I paid no attention to 
 this invitation, and a few days later received 
 another communication, of which the follow- 
 ing is a copy: 
 
 The Co-operative Mutual Theatrical 
 Protective Association 
 
 JAS. J. ARMSTRONG ARTHUR W. TAMS WM. MORRIS 
 
 Pres. Sec'y Treas. 
 
 10 Union Square 109 West 28th St. 43 West 28th St. 
 Robert Grau J 
 Mrs. Beaumont Packard > Vice-Presidents 
 Henry Wolfsohn » 
 
 New York, Sept. 17, 1904. 
 Jared Flagg, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir — A meeting of the members of the 
 Theatrical Protective Association will be held 
 in Elks' Hall, Majestic Theatre Building, 
 Fifty-ninth street, next Tuesday evening at 8 
 o'clock. We would be pleased to have you 
 present and receive the benefit of your counsel. 
 Yours truly, 
 
 [Signed] ARTHUR W. TAMS, Sec'y. 
 
 I thanked them for their courtesy, but did 
 not attend the meeting. 
 
 152 
 
The same month, September 28th, Hein- 
 rich Conried notified me by letter that he 
 would try voices and hear my clients sing at 
 3 p. m. the following Wednesday in the Met- 
 ropolitan Opera House. 
 
 To prove that I received this order, I can 
 show Mr. Conried's letter. To prove that I 
 was unable to fill the order I can produce one 
 hundred witnesses — young women who were 
 "afraid to risk it" "Risk what?" I asked. "Be- 
 ing arrested," they said. "For what?" said I. 
 "For being your clients," I was told. And 
 then I discovered that my clients were being 
 summoned to appear before the District Attor- 
 ney. Two had been taken from the New York 
 Theatre; three from their homes in Brooklyn; 
 two from in front of my office, etc., etc. Some 
 person or persons (probably under the impres- 
 sion it was a duty they owed to themselves — 
 not to me) had informed the District Attorney 
 that I was sending people to improper persons. 
 But the District Attorney (in justice to me), 
 before taking action, appointed Assistant Dis- 
 trict Attorney C. W. Appleton to investigate 
 the matter. I also did a little investigating, 
 and, although my clients had been warned by 
 Mr. Appleton not to talk (women will talk) 
 
 153 
 
I soon ascertained who were the instigators of 
 this outrage. 
 
 I employed detectives; we examined wit- 
 nesses ; affidavits were made and one member 
 after another of the Co-operative Mutual 
 Theatrical Agents' Protective Association be- 
 came implicated. Depositions to prove this 
 statement are now in the hands of my attor- 
 neys, Caruth, Ziegler & Caruth. Having ac- 
 cumulated this evidence I appealed as a law- 
 abiding citizen to the District Attorney for 
 protection, and as soon as the facts were placed 
 before him he accorded me protection. This I 
 can prove by a letter dated October 7, 1904, ad- 
 dressed to me and signed personally by Wil- 
 liam Travers Jerome. I can also prove it by 
 his acts, which speak louder than words. 
 Months have elapsed and the fact that District 
 Attorney Jerome has acted toward me as he 
 would to any other reputable citizen is evi- 
 dence he had no occasion to act otherwise. 
 
 The President of this Protective Association 
 and certain of its members failing therefore in 
 their attempt to inveigle the District Attorney 
 into co-operating with them and utilizing his 
 office for their mutual benefit, and incidentally 
 my injury, concocted another scheme, namely: 
 
 154 
 
to cut off my source of supply (newspaper ad- 
 vertisements) and some boasted openly and at 
 their subsequent secret meetings that they 
 would put me out of business by having my ad- 
 vertisements stopped. Four reputable wit- 
 nesses, members of established theatrical firms, 
 admit that these threats were made and will so 
 testify. 
 
 To stop my legitimate advertisements, ille- 
 gitimate complaints were sent to city and 
 country papers, and as a result many advertise- 
 ments, including those which were to have ap- 
 peared in your paper, have been sent back 
 marked "declined." These advertisements and 
 the officially dated envelopes in which they 
 were returned I have, and can place in evi- 
 dence to prove that thirty or more complaints 
 were made in five different states at the same 
 time — New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, 
 Connecticut and Massachusetts. 
 
 Why were these preconcerted complaints 
 sent out? Why are certain members of the 
 Agents' Protective Association so anxious to 
 end my career as a theatrical agent? What is 
 their motive? Are they impelled by a desire 
 to do good? Are they actuated by high prin- 
 ciples or high commissions? 
 
 155 
 
The regulation fee charged for procuring a 
 stage engagement is one-half the second week's 
 salary. My charges are less, but at times, if I 
 have no orders, I recommend to my clients 
 agents who have orders. A few years ago, 
 when I embarked in this business, I was 
 obliged to send them all to agents for the ob- 
 vious reason that no manager would favor me 
 with an order. Did the agents complain of me 
 then? So long as I was willing to do the work, 
 and defray the cost of advertising, and pass 
 my clients over, and allow the agents to charge 
 them the regulation rates, my morality was not 
 questioned. 
 
 There is no theatrical agency in this city who 
 has not voluntarily or involuntarily placed 
 clients of mine on the stage. The very men 
 who are now denouncing me have made com- 
 missions that they would not have made had it 
 not been for me and my clients. If any mem- 
 ber of the Agents' Association doubts this state- 
 ment I can refresh his memory by referring to 
 my books and submitting a list of the clients he 
 has placed for me. 
 
 Their Secretary alone has procured engage- 
 ments for over eighteen hundred of my clients. 
 All its members are not against me, and noth- 
 
 156 
 
ing herein stated is intended to reflect on the 
 Tarns Agency or Mr. F. C. Palmer, of this 
 agency, who has invariably treated me and my 
 clients with respect. The same is true of Mr. 
 W. Ashland, of the agency department of the 
 Witmark Music Library. This firm has 
 secured stage engagements for more than three 
 thousand five hundred of my clients ; and the 
 many courtesies extended by the Witmarks 
 and Mr. Ashland have been appreciated by 
 my clients and by me. We are also indebted 
 to Walter J. Plimmer, Frank Melville, Matt 
 Grau, Frank Forrester and some others who 
 have not and would not stoop to underhand 
 competition. 
 
 It took time, but when by degrees it com- 
 menced to dawn on the theatrical managers 
 that they were employing my people, although 
 engaging them indirectly, that is, from the 
 agents to whom I had referred my clients, I 
 commenced to receive orders direct. Klaw & 
 Erlanger, Frohman, Conried, Savage, Bel- 
 asco, Shubert, Hammerstein, Thompson, 
 Dundy, Brady, Aborn, Fisher, Ryley, Harris, 
 Hyde, Behman, Hill, Bradhurst, Currie, Ade, 
 Ziegfeld, Liebler, Keith, Proctor, Field, 
 Lederer, Whitney and Frank L. Perley not 
 
 157 
 
only have, but are at the present time employ- 
 ing clients of mine. I can produce books, let- 
 ters, contracts and thousands of witnesses to 
 prove this statement. 
 
 The person does not live who can name a 
 first-class light opera company in the United 
 States (and this means from the Atlantic to 
 the Pacific) in which my clients do not at the 
 present time take part. I mention these facts 
 not because I wish to brag, but to show if some 
 of the agents do not approve of my modern 
 methods of doing business, the members of the 
 Profession seem to think pretty well of my 
 work as an agent. 
 
 For procuring a client an engagement and 
 keeping him or her at work one entire year 
 I charge two dollars. All told I have over 
 seven thousand yearly clients, and this low 
 commission is pleasing to them, agreeable to 
 the managers, and satisfactory to me. But the 
 agents object. They want protection. They 
 have organized a society (eighty-eight in num- 
 ber) for mutual protection and they want it. 
 They want you, and every business manager of 
 every newspaper in every city and town within 
 a radius of five hundred miles, to co-operate 
 and aid them in protecting themselves against 
 
 158 
 
my competition. Previously, that is, before I 
 did business with the foremost managers in the 
 theatrical world, it was all right but now it is 
 all wrong — they say — for you to permit my ad- 
 vertisements to appear in the columns of your 
 paper. If you continue to do so the members 
 of the profession will continue to patronize me 
 and in the estimation of many of the members 
 of the Agents' Protective Association this is 
 cruel to them. 
 
 The agents do not support the members of 
 the Profession, the members of the Profession 
 support the agents; and if the agents compris- 
 ing the Protective Association are to be de- 
 prived from making the high commission 
 which according to the By-Laws of their own 
 society they are entitled to make, who is going 
 to support them? This is the problem, and 
 regular and special meetings have been called 
 to solve it. They have even invited me to give 
 them the benefit of my counsel, as per the en- 
 closed copy, hereinbefore referred to, of the 
 Association's letter addressed to me, and dated 
 September 17th, 1904. 
 
 But I maintain that the young women need 
 the money more than the agents, and the young 
 women agree with me. Those who do not 
 
 159 
 
agree with me and who do not know me per- 
 sonally, and who are not acquainted with the 
 facts and who do not wish to be acquainted 
 with the facts, say my one aim in life is to de- 
 coy unsuspecting stage-struck girls and de- 
 fraud them. The charge is almost too absurd 
 to notice. Section 5 of Chapter 432 of the 
 Laws of 1904 reads — in part — "in case the ap- 
 plicant shall not accept or obtain employment 
 through such agency, then such licensed per- 
 son, shall on demand, repay the full amount of 
 said fee." Has the law left any loop-hole here 
 to swindle the unwary? And if it had would 
 I be likely for the sake of a two-dollar fee, to 
 place in jeopardy a one thousand dollar bond, 
 which I have, in conformity with the require- 
 ments of the license law, deposited with the 
 City of New York? Do even my enemies ac- 
 cuse me of being an idiot? And, bond or no 
 bond, would I not be one to ruin a paying busi- 
 ness which has been established by honest deal- 
 ing and almost five years of hard work, by now 
 conducting it dishonestly? 
 
 Some of these discontented theatrical agents, 
 who attribute the falling off in their business 
 to me, pretend that their finer sensibilities have 
 been shocked because I permit my clients to 
 
 160 
 
pose. Owing to their influence (the agents) 
 with the press, a terrible hue and cry, espe- 
 cially in the theatrical papers, has been raised 
 on this account. And yet I have never exacted 
 or accepted a fee from a stage applicant for 
 giving her posing engagements. Nor have I 
 ever, directly or indirectly, accepted one dol- 
 lar from any firm or person, who has ever 
 given a client of mine a stage engagement, or 
 a posing engagement, or employment of any 
 kind. This fact cannot be emphasized too 
 strongly; because reports by my enemies are 
 being persistently circulated to the effect that 
 I receive the largest kind of fees ; that my two 
 dollars yearly fee is a mere subterfuge ; and it 
 would be impossible for me to meet my ad- 
 vertising bills alone on any such insignificant 
 amount. These aspersions are made to create 
 the impression that I must, from the necessity 
 of the case, be in league with disreputable re- 
 sorts of one kind or another. But there is not 
 a word of truth in the malicious reports. It's 
 all one DAMNABLE lie. And I defy any per- 
 in the world to prove to the contrary. 
 
 That thousands of my clients have earned 
 money by posing, I admit. There is not a peri- 
 odical or pictorial magazine or a fashion 
 
 161 
 
magazine supplement issued by a daily or Sun- 
 day or evening newspaper in Greater New 
 York in which pictures of my clients have not 
 appeared. 
 
 If all the papers were to reject my advertise- 
 ments how would I fill your orders in the 
 future? If you wish I will send you a list of 
 the names of my young women clients who 
 have posed for your fashion plate artists and 
 commercial photographers. 
 
 Among the illustrators Charles Dana Gib- 
 son, Howard Chandler Christie and Edson M. 
 Knox, of the Knox Illustrating Syndicate of 
 Newark, N. J., are my largest customers. 
 Among the commercial photographers and 
 fashion journals — Eddowes Brothers, L. S. 
 White, Sarony, the Tonnele Company, the 
 Fashion Camera Company, the Dry Goods 
 Economist, Butterick's and the Illustrated 
 Milliner — are my largest customers. 
 
 To rebut the testimony of slanderers, I can- 
 not only refer to these and hundreds of others, 
 but hold in reserve an army of clients ; an army 
 ready at the first call to appear as witnesses in 
 my behalf; ready to testify under oath that 
 they have never seen a thing done, or heard a 
 
 162 
 
word spoken, or a question asked in my office 
 which would cause umbrage even to a prude. 
 
 If those who say or intimate that the busi- 
 ness of my office is not properly conducted dare 
 to make known their identity, I would gladly 
 give them the opportunity to prove their asper- 
 sions in a court of law. But they are cowards, 
 and what they say is said behind my back. If 
 you can show me one bona-fide complaint, 
 signed by a bona-fide client of mine, or by her 
 or his parent or guardian, I will never ask you 
 to insert another advertisement for me in your 
 paper as long as I live. 
 
 The possibility of a client of mine having 
 just cause to complain against me is so remote 
 it has never occurred. The law does not com- 
 pel me after I have accepted a fee from an ap- 
 plicant to procure an engagement. It merely 
 compels me to refund the fee if I fail to pro- 
 cure an engagement satisfactory to the ap- 
 plicant. It is optional with her as to whether 
 she accepts or rejects any engagement I may 
 offer. I have no jurisdiction in the matter. 
 Therefore, if I comply with the law, and no 
 customer or client of mine has ever accused me 
 of not doing so, how is it possible for her to 
 enter a just complaint against me? 
 
 163 
 
Under the license law I am obliged to keep 
 a register, in which must be alphabetically re- 
 corded the names and addresses of all my 
 clients, and the names and addresses of those to 
 whom I have referred clients for work. To 
 omit to enter the names, or to substitute a false 
 one, constitutes, as per section four of the 
 license law, a misdemeanor. 
 
 This book, which is examined bi-monthly 
 according to law, by government officers, I am 
 willing to place at your disposal to prove you 
 have never received a complaint against me 
 that was not written anonymously, or signed 
 fictitiously, or by some person purporting to 
 have transacted business with me, but whose 
 name does not appear on my books. The com- 
 plaints which have influenced you to reject my 
 advertisements have been made by these out- 
 side alleged clients, these impostors, these pre- 
 tenders, these mischief makers, whose aim it 
 has been to inflict — not to right — a wrong. 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Jared Flagg. 
 
 This letter did the business ; it covered the 
 ground; and after reading it, after seeing my 
 documentary evidence, and after investigating 
 
 164 
 
my business, every manager of every paper 
 who had been constrained to reject my adver- 
 tisements immediately inserted them. 
 
 And what did the members of the Agents' 
 Protective Association do then? Why, they 
 hired a hall — the Grand Central Palace — 
 Forty-third street and Lexington avenue, and 
 January 6th, 1905, invited Frederick L. C. 
 Keating, at that time License Commissioner 
 for the City of New York, to come and hear 
 their grievances. Did he come? He did, and 
 what is more, made a speech. He told the 
 agents how much respect he had for them and 
 how little he had for any man who would ad- 
 vertise to place young women on the stage. He 
 refrained from mentioning my name, but 
 every one in the hall knew to whom he re- 
 ferred. The more he maligned me, the more 
 applause he received, and he grew eloquent. 
 He did not advocate my single, all year, two 
 dollar commission, but told the agents he ap- 
 proved of their regular half-week's salary 
 commission, and hinted that they might even 
 charge the members of the Profession a com- 
 mission equivalent to the entire first week's sal- 
 ary and still be within the scope of the law. 
 
 Mr. Keating is only thirty-two years of age, 
 
 165 
 
and this sentiment, emanating from one so 
 young, elicited prolonged applause. 
 
 After finishing his harangue, many of the 
 agents grasped his hand and pressed it with 
 fervor, and he returned the grip, as much as to 
 say, leave it to me. They left it, and what did 
 he do? He sent an inspector — a Mr. G. W. 
 Hamilton — with a stenographer, to my office, 
 the very day after he had delivered his oration, 
 to secure a list of the names and addresses of 
 my clients and my customers. Not a few names, 
 but hundreds, beginning with A and not stop- 
 ping until they had reached Z. These were 
 his orders and Mr. Hamilton had to obey 
 orders. 
 
 And what did Mr. Keating propose to do 
 with these names? My clients would not go 
 to him; they had no cause to complain; so he 
 decided to go to them, and, if possible, coerce 
 them to complain. 
 
 To revoke my license without jeopardizing 
 his own — that is, his own license to act as a 
 License Commissioner — it would be necessary 
 to produce a complainant, preferably some 
 person with whom I had transacted business, 
 and who would make a charge against me. It 
 was for this reason that he wanted the list of 
 
 166 
 
names ; and with the hope of discovering some 
 one person from among the large list, who 
 would be willing to appear against me, he de- 
 tailed seven Inspectors to scour the city from 
 the Battery to the Bronx. But, notwithstand- 
 ing that these inspectors interviewed hundreds 
 of my clients, they were unable to find one who 
 could, would or did make any complaint 
 against me. And, after wasting a great deal of 
 time, and incidentally a great deal of the city's 
 money, Keating gave it up as a bad job. 
 
 In the meantime, I was doing a large busi- 
 ness. The more the agents kicked, the more I 
 was blackguarded, the more business I seemed 
 to do. Actors and actresses, who had never 
 heard of me previously, now called at my 
 office and registered. Theatrical managers 
 also called, and I was literally "snowed-under" 
 with orders. At times, there was not standing 
 room in my offices. 
 
 In addition to the main office, we now had 
 five uptown sub-offices. To keep them all in 
 operation — that is, to keep even with the de- 
 mand, in addition to my newspaper advertise- 
 ments, I sent out a circular of which the 
 following is a correct copy: 
 
 167 
 
"Advice to Those Who Denounce the 
 Stage. 
 
 "If a young woman is good looking, she 
 knows it; she does not have to be told; and if 
 obliged to support herself, I do not blame her 
 for wishing to go on the stage. What legitimate 
 vocation can she adopt that will pay her so 
 well, or afford half so many opportunities for 
 advancement? 
 
 "The salaries usually paid to chorus girls of 
 the better class range from fifteen to twenty 
 dollars per week, and 'front row' or 'show 
 girls' frequently receive twenty-five to thirty- 
 five dollars per week. Furthermore, if a 
 young woman displays talent, there is no tell- 
 ing how high a salary she may command. It 
 is not, however, always a case of money. The 
 love of admiration, the glitter, the excitement 
 of the life and possibility of ultimate fame are 
 incentives. 
 
 "If a young woman is imbued with the idea 
 that she may make the hit of her life on the 
 stage (and every great actress that has ever 
 lived has been imbued with this same idea) it 
 is a waste of time to try to convince her she 
 may make the mistake of her life. 
 
 m 
 
"In denouncing the stage, you only make 
 her more determined to 'go on,' or, if dutiful^ 
 more miserable by remaining off. It does not 
 cool her ardor; it does not cure her. If she 
 has the 'fever' nothing will cure her — that is, 
 nothing but a dose of the 'real article,' and 
 even this may not prove effective, because 
 work we enjoy is not drudgery; work we can- 
 not enjoy is drudgery. Stage aspirants enjoy 
 their work; they love their profession; and a 
 young woman who loves the stage, as a profes- 
 sion, can endure work. Consequently, she is 
 more likely to meet with success on it than in 
 any other calling. 
 
 "If a chorus girl has ambition, a good con- 
 stitution, a cheerful disposition, and is not too 
 old or too young, too tall or too short, too fat 
 or too lean, there is no telling what she may 
 accomplish behind the 'foot-lights.' Many 
 of the most beautiful women in the world are 
 there and they are workers and enjoy life and 
 are not depraved. A woman can be on the 
 stage, and be good, even if beautiful. 
 
 "Although our chorus girls, as a whole, may 
 be more daintily formed and attractive, they 
 are not morally inferior to their sisters who 
 are idling their lives away doing nothing or 
 
 169 
 
eking out an existence in distasteful domestic 
 or mercantile pursuits. The good and the 
 bad are to be found among the bad and the 
 good in all walks of life ; and, if too much at- 
 tention, too many letters, too many invita- 
 tions, too many bouquets, and too many ad- 
 mirers will turn a young woman's head, it in- 
 dicates that she has inherited a weak head 
 from her ancestors. Is this her fault? Is it 
 the fault of the stage? On the stage disci- 
 pline is maintained, and, if she will attend to 
 her stage duties and not attend to too many 
 wine suppers, she will command respect. 
 
 "The danger, especially if your daughter 
 has inherited any of your sporty proclivities, 
 will occur after the show, not during the per- 
 formance. But, if only good has been be- 
 queathed — inherited — you can repose con- 
 fidence in your child. If trustworthy, trust 
 her. Nothing causes a young woman greater 
 anguish than to be regarded with suspicion by 
 those whom she loves. 
 
 "Many parents show faith in their offspring 
 by not trusting them out of sight, and children 
 usually show their appreciation of this style 
 of parental solicitude by making up for lost 
 time as soon as they are out of sight. En- 
 
 170 
 
forced idleness and too much chaperoning in 
 time becomes unendurable. 
 
 "If you wish your daughter to feel that life 
 is worth living you will permit her to be oc- 
 cupied in some pursuit which engrosses her 
 mind. You will not stifle her ambition and 
 deprive her of the satisfaction of earning — for 
 services actually rendered — an honest dollar. 
 Money earned in the theatrical profession is 
 honestly earned. The stage to-day is not what 
 it was years ago. An ill-bred, vulgar person 
 will not be tolerated, even in a second-rate 
 burlesque company. Many of the most re- 
 fined and cultured young women (and with 
 the consent of their parents) are now adopt- 
 ing the stage as a means of livelihood. A few 
 years ago this was not the case. I do not mean 
 to intimate that good and noble women were 
 not to be found on the stage in days gone by, 
 but never before in its history were so many 
 of this kind on it as at the present time. 
 
 "Those who talk the loudest about the tribu- 
 lations and depravities of stage life have had 
 no stage experience. They are ignorant of 
 the facts; they entertain puritanical notions 
 regarding the theatre; they are narrow- 
 minded, bigoted and afflicted with false pride. 
 
 171 
 
Each year, however, as we become more en- 
 lightened this prejudice becomes less pro- 
 nounced. The stage, as well as the world, is 
 advancing — not deteriorating. Every person 
 cannot join the Profession. We are not all 
 sufficiently inviting and prepossessing in ap- 
 pearance ; nor have we all the talent to act, or 
 to sing and to charm and dance and amuse and 
 interest and entertain and distract the mind 
 from the everyday cares of life. If a young 
 woman believes she possesses this gift, does it 
 signify that she contemplates disgracing her- 
 self or friends? And if she attempts to de- 
 velop it, should she be disinherited and ostra- 
 cised? 
 
 "Without occupation there can be no happi- 
 ness; and life without a future is not worth 
 living. Why then blight the happiness and 
 even the lives of those who wish to be engaged 
 in a congenial and honorable occupation and 
 look forward to a future?" 
 
 Anything improper about this circular? 
 And yet the newspapers tried to convey the 
 idea that it contained a hidden meaning. 
 
 It was when these circulars, in large 
 quantities, were going out and business 
 
 172 
 
was coming in that Smith, who had 
 always prided himself on the fact that he had 
 never in adversity nor in the joys of prosperity 
 permitted himself to become affiliated with 
 any woman, lost his heart and I lost Smith. 
 And as I stood alone, without my "old stand- 
 by," while our business, figuratively speaking, 
 was bowling along under a clear sky and full 
 spread of canvas, I felt sorry for him, sorry he 
 was not on board, that his fiancee had turned 
 his head, that she had persuaded him to eschew 
 theatricals, settle down and live the simple 
 life. 
 
 Often when we feel sorry if we could only 
 look ahead far enough we should feel glad. 
 And at this particular time I could not see far 
 enough ahead to sense danger. I did not know 
 that away off in the distance there were treach- 
 erous, hidden rocks, only occasionally showing 
 their peaks above the water and that I was 
 heading straight for them; but later, when it 
 was too late and when the crash came and the 
 bottom came out and I could feel myself sink- 
 ing, then I was glad that brave, unselfish and 
 loyal Smith, who had weathered so many 
 storms, was not on board and was not being 
 carried down with me. 
 
 173 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ALMOST two years had elapsed since the over- 
 zealous License Commissioner, Keating, had 
 attempted to block my progress. During these 
 two years I had missed Smith more than a 
 little, yet I had made real progress. 
 
 In the latter part of 1905 I let it be known 
 that if any clients of mine were dismissed dur- 
 ing rehearsals without being compensated for 
 time lost while rehearsing, I would hold the 
 "management" responsible. 
 
 Complaints had been coming in to me from 
 several of my clients. It seems that for years 
 it had been a custom with theatrical managers, 
 when rehearsing a company, to hold out false 
 inducements. Day after day and week after 
 week their stage directors encouraged more to 
 rehearse than they might ultimately require. 
 No salaries are paid during rehearsals; this is 
 
 174 
 
understood; but when a young woman is in 
 duced to rehearse with the tacit understanding 
 she is to have a contract, and then, at the last 
 moment, owing to no fault of her own, is told 
 that her services will not be required, it is akin 
 to robbery. To waste all this time; to rob a 
 young woman of it; to lead her on; to keep 
 her rehearsing, spending carfare and lunch 
 money, and at times even pawning jewelry to 
 provide the necessities of life, as she struggles 
 on without pay under the mistaken impression 
 she is to be engaged, did not seem to me like a 
 square deal. 
 
 The managers claimed that they received 
 no benefit in rehearsing these extra girls and, 
 therefore, the young women, if dismissed, 
 should expect no compensation. But I main- 
 tained that this was not a valid reason. If it 
 did the managers no good why did they in- 
 variably rehearse a larger chorus than they 
 contemplated employing? Was it not to in- 
 sure themselves against possible financial loss 
 by having trained substitutes ready to fill 
 vacancies which are liable to occur during the 
 formation of a company? 
 
 If a manager insures his theatre against fire, 
 and if it proves an unnecessary precaution, 
 
 175 
 
does he derive benefit from his insurance 
 policy? Can he, under such circumstances, 
 compel the insurance company to remit the 
 premium? What right has he, therefore, if 
 he insures his production against disaster, and 
 it proves an unnecessary precaution^ to compel 
 the young women to remit the premium? 
 Why should they foot his bill? It was the 
 custom, but I decided to change the custom; 
 not from philanthropic motives ; it would not 
 be becoming in me to pose as a philanthropist; 
 but from selfish motives, as a matter of busi- 
 ness policy. Realizing that we can best help 
 ourselves by helping others, I proposed to help 
 others, my clients, by rectifying the imposition 
 which had heretofore been practiced upon 
 them. With this end in view I retained coun- 
 sel and forthwith proceeded, according to sec- 
 tion 3221, page 924, of the Code of Civil Pro- 
 cedure of the State of New York, to bring the 
 theatrical managers "up with a round turn." 
 
 I issued a circular authorizing clients of 
 mine dismissed in this unjust and unceremoni- 
 ous manner to report to my lawyer, Irwin E. 
 Ziegler, who would prosecute their claims and 
 pay over to them the full amount recovered 
 without deducting therefrom one dollar fo* 
 
 176 
 
legal fees or disbursements. This circular 
 created a sensation, and resulted in doubling 
 my business, but it brought down on my head 
 the everlasting wrath of the theatrical man- 
 agers, who had formerly been cordial in their 
 business relations with me. 
 
 Some people, even with the best intentions, 
 have the unhappy faculty of making enemies, 
 and now I had not only the agents but the 
 theatrical managers against me. Yet I was 
 transacting, as my books showed, far more 
 business than ever before. The members of 
 the Profession came in droves to commend me 
 for the stand I had taken against the man- 
 agers. It is pleasant to be "lauded to the 
 skies;" we like to listen to it; and in order to 
 have time to listen I suspended business and 
 set apart one afternoon each week, and gave a 
 "five o'clock tea." 
 
 At each affair a different hostess presided, 
 but chaperoned by her mother. It was a 
 "crush," yet they all seemed to enjoy them- 
 selves; and when I think of those days, the 
 sparkling wit, the fun, the pleasant greetings, 
 now only a memory, gone, perhaps never to 
 return, it makes me long to have my license 
 back; my agency license, unjustly withheld 
 
 177 
 
irom me (as will be hereinafter shown), and 
 to live over again the life of, and to be again, a 
 theatrical agent. 
 
 If we cannot get enjoyment out of our busi- 
 ness, if we are waiting for a time to come 
 when we can afford to retire and take things 
 easy before enjoying life, we may die without 
 knowing what it is to live. 
 
 I have lived; but now, with a teapot and 
 three hundred and thirty-six transparent imi- 
 tation Dresden china teacups on my hands 
 and no use for them I am beginning to feel a 
 little lonesome. Some persons are so dead sick 
 of their own society that they feel lonesome all 
 the time unless in the society of others. At 
 the time these cups and saucers were doing 
 service I was conceded to be the most exten- 
 sively advertised theatrical agent in the United 
 States. I had practically cornered the chorus 
 girl market; everyone said I had them all, and 
 there was truth in it. Even the theatrical 
 newspapers admitted that I was master of the 
 situation. Every theatrical agent in the city, 
 when it came to filling a large order, was at my 
 mercy. By raising a finger I could turn the 
 tide in his direction, or I could turn it 
 in the direction of some other theatrical 
 
 178 
 
agent, or I could ignore all the agents and 
 send my clients direct to a manager. He 
 could not give a show without the young 
 women, and if he did not take them from me 
 he could go without them. The fact that I 
 would not permit a client of mine to be dis- 
 charged, during the rehearsing season, without 
 compensation, might make him ( 'fume" a 
 little, and he might, for a bluff, "turn down" 
 applicants coming from my office; but in the 
 end he would swallow his pride and take 
 them; not because he wanted to, but because 
 he knew that if he did not take them from me 
 directly he would have to take them from me 
 indirectly, through other agents, as I practi- 
 cally controlled, as previously stated, almost 
 the entire chorus girl output. 
 
 The epithets used, by some of these man- 
 agers and agents at this time, in connection 
 with my name did much to make it known. It 
 is our rankest enemies, not our loving friends, 
 that advertise us, and for quite a period I was 
 the most talked about person on the "Rialto." 
 I was blamed and I was praised. If I hap- 
 pened to drop in at any one of the all-night 
 restaurants along the "Great White Way," for 
 every one manager or agent who defamed me 
 
 179 
 
when I was not looking, a hundred "show 
 girls" upheld me and drank to my health 
 when I was looking. 
 
 But it was not only in New York; the news 
 had "spread like wildfire"; and in Boston 
 Philadelphia, Chicago and San Francisco my 
 circulars offering to protect my clients, free of 
 cost to them, were read with avidity; read in 
 secret by the young women when down under 
 the stage in their dressing-rooms with doors 
 securely locked. 
 
 The mere fact that this particular circular 
 was kept by my clients under cover away 
 from the eyes of the managers was enough 
 to make every young woman in the 
 company want to see it and want to know 
 all about it. Men dislike details, but 
 women want full particulars. What is two 
 dollars to a "front row chorus girl," com- 
 pared to rehearsing two months with the risk 
 of then being dismissed without cause and 
 without pay? It was not to be considered; 
 and when the next rehearsing season came 
 around the two dollar bills flowed into my 
 office twice as fast as they ever had before; 
 and those who paid them were protected, ab- 
 solutely. We did not lose a case, for the 
 
 i8o 
 
obvious reason that the managers knew they 
 did not have a leg on which to stand, and so 
 settled all claims, instituted by my clients, out 
 of court. Some of the managers would re- 
 consider the matter when they realized what 
 might happen to them, and would reinstate 
 the chorus singers who had been cast adrift at 
 the last moment. 
 
 Thus it can be seen that I was successful 
 in rectifying this unjust custom; a custom 
 which had existed for years and which, now 
 that I am no longer a theatrical agent, again 
 exists. 
 
 I have explained in detail why I was not 
 popular with certain theatrical agents, and I 
 have explained in detail why I was not popu- 
 lar with certain theatrical managers, in order 
 that the reader may understand the motive 
 these men (not all, but several) had in com- 
 bining, and in using their influence, politi- 
 cally and otherwise, to have me driven from 
 the theatrical field. 
 
 Money — the love of which is the root of all 
 evil — was the moving power. I was a "thorn 
 in the side" to the agents and an expense to the 
 managers, and when you touch a man's pocket 
 you touch him in a tender spot. 
 
 181 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Do NOT misunderstand me. Although in cer- 
 tain quarters the feeling against me was run- 
 ning high, not for one moment do I accuse all 
 the theatrical managers, or all the theatrical 
 agents. Many of them, and over their own 
 signatures, have assured me that they took no 
 part in the disgraceful proceedings instituted 
 against me. Probably not more than twenty 
 per cent, were implicated, and these acted 
 without the consent or knowledge of the presi- 
 dent, or the board of directors of the Theatri- 
 cal Agents' Society. 
 
 The treasurer of the Society, in 1906, 
 Webster Cullison, was one of the prime mov- 
 ers against me. Mr. Cullison on June 21, 1905, 
 wrote to me stating that he was in urgent 
 need of one thousand young women for chorus 
 work. He had received large orders and was 
 unable to fill them. I declined to accept his 
 
 182 
 
order on the ground that I was, at the time, 
 deluged with orders of my own received di- 
 rectly from theatrical managers. After read- 
 ing my letter to this effect Cullison sent Philip 
 Watkins, manager of his operatic department, 
 to my office to try to persuade me to execute a 
 part, if not all, of his order; but in justice to 
 my clients I could not do so. It was against 
 my rules, if I could prevent it, to subject 
 clients of mine to additional expense; if I had 
 it in my power to place them directly with 
 managers I did not propose to allow another 
 agent to make another fee out of them. But 
 if I could not "book" them directly, and if 
 some other agent could, then it became op- 
 tional with them as to whether or not they 
 cared to pay the additional fee, and if they did 
 desire to do so I would give them letters of in- 
 troduction to the other agent. 
 
 Watkins explained the situation to Cullison, 
 and later informed me that Cullison was 
 highly incensed at me for the stand I had 
 taken. Miss Grace Proctor, Miss Beatrice 
 Phelps and Miss Mabelle Texas also told me 
 that Mr. Cullison had spoken disparagingly 
 of me to them, and all because I would not 
 permit him to make a few hundred dollars (in 
 
 183 
 
commissions) out of my clients. Evidently he 
 felt sore; it must have rankled in his breast a 
 long time, over eight months, as on March 20, 
 1906, he sent out an invitation to his brother 
 agents, whose orders for the same reason I had 
 also rejected, inviting them to meet him in his 
 office Sunday evening, March 25, 1906, to 
 discuss (as he put it) : "that man Flagg." 
 
 In his letter asking me to help him fill his 
 orders it was "My Dear Mr. Flagg;" but now 
 (as he no longer could see any prospect of 
 making money out of my clients) , it was "that 
 man Flagg." 
 
 About fifteen theatrical agents attended this 
 Sunday night conference, and from all ac- 
 counts they had a lively session. The stenog- 
 rapher, whose duty it was to record the min- 
 utes of the meeting, had her hands full. 
 
 We wanted those minutes. By we I mean 
 Assistant District- Attorney William Marshall 
 and myself. We were under the impres- 
 sion they might afford us a foundation upon 
 which to base an action of criminal conspiracy. 
 Mr. Marshall tried, at three different times, 
 in my behalf, to get them. District Attorney 
 William Travers Jerome also served papers 
 on Cullison demanding that they be produced 
 
 184 
 
in his, the District Attorney's, office, but they 
 did not materialize. Some one, no one knows 
 who, spirited them away, and all those who 
 had attended the meeting were as "dumb as 
 clams." When people simply won't talk it is 
 difficult to prove conspiracy. Under such cir- 
 cumstances, although a man is morally sure 
 that certain persons have conspired to ruin 
 him, it may be impossible to prove it at the 
 time; but if he will "bide his time," sooner or 
 later, the truth "will out." As previously 
 stated, I have been biding my time ; and now, 
 years after that rainy Sunday night — that 
 night when the conspirators met in secret be- 
 hind locked doors, in the office of Webster 
 Cullison, No. 1402 Broadway, New York City 
 — the truth is beginning to unfold itself be- 
 fore me. 
 
 It is true that this secret session took place 
 on the evening of March 25, 1906. Cullison 
 himself admits it; also admits that they con- 
 vened for the purpose of discussing me. Just 
 how they discussed me I cannot state literally, 
 but judging from their subsequent acts and the 
 acts of others, it is fair to assume that the 
 spokesman, in substance, spoke as follows : 
 
 Flagg is acting the part of a dog in the 
 
manger. He is cutting commissions. He re- 
 fuses to recognize our Union and wants the 
 'earth.' Our very existence is threatened. If 
 Flagg keeps on expanding we may as well 
 close up shop. He knows enough to conduct 
 his business lawfully, so we have no way of re- 
 voking his license; but as it is about to die a 
 natural death, expire by limitation, the law 
 gives us the privilege to object to his procur- 
 ing a new one. It is now the 25th of March. 
 Next month he will put in his application for 
 a new license, and we shall then have the legal 
 right to pass over that period of his life in 
 which he has been engaged in the theatrical 
 agency business, and rake up the past. We 
 can go away back to the time of "Flagg's 
 Flats," and show from his record when en- 
 gaged in the flat business, that he is not entitled 
 to a license. This will be easy now that we 
 have the License Commissioner and two ben- 
 evolent women's leagues with us. 
 
 If we were alone in this matter; if it were 
 our Society only that objected, it might occa- 
 sion comment. People might think we were 
 interested witnesses, competitors; but with the 
 Woman's Municipal League and the Woman's 
 Rescue League as joint complainants with 
 
 186 
 
us, it will be different. No person will say 
 that these leagues are pecuniarily interested. 
 Bogart, the License Commissioner, is anxious 
 to have everything look all right, to seem 
 straight; and you cannot blame him. Only re- 
 cently he has been appointed Commissioner, 
 and Flagg might show fight — might attempt 
 to make trouble for him, and in such an event 
 Bogart would rely not so much on us as on the 
 benevolent leagues. A theatrical agents' so- 
 ciety can hardly be called a religious society, 
 and the Commissioner knows, and we know, 
 that the Mayor would not be likely to extend 
 to our society much consideration. But Mc- 
 Clellan, or any other man, would not dare 
 even to intimate that Charlotte Smith, the ven- 
 erable head of the National and International 
 Woman's Rescue League was actuated by 
 other than philanthropic motives. So with the 
 Woman's Municipal League. Look at its 
 board of directors. Those names carry weight. 
 With the co-operation of these two leagues I 
 do not hesitate to say our victory is as good as 
 won, etc., etc. 
 
 If the reader cannot understand why the flat 
 business should be connected with the theatri- 
 cal business let him consider the following il- 
 
 187 
 
lustration : Suppose, for example, a physician 
 had built up a large practice by charging a 
 small fee; suppose certain other doctors had 
 said to him, "Here, this thing must stop; if 
 you do not charge your patients as much as we 
 charge ours we will bring influence to bear 
 and have your license taken from you. Then if 
 you persist in practicing without a doctor's 
 certificate we shall see to it that the authorities 
 jail you." Suppose they had talked like this 
 to him and suppose he had said to them: "You 
 can't do it," and they had replied, "Oh, yes we 
 can, and we will tell you why. Years ago, long 
 before you thought of becoming an M.D. you 
 owned and leased flat buildings all over the 
 city, and some of your West Eighteenth street 
 tenants, on a hot night in the dead of summer, 
 went up on the roof and after old man Mc- 
 Goff's daughter — the one with the nightingale 
 voice — had warbled to the entertainment of 
 the others, for an hour or so, they all joined in 
 and commenced to sing 'She is the Sunshine of 
 Paradise Alley.' This disturbed the peace of 
 the neighborhood. Think what that means. 
 We do not say you were present; in fact, we 
 are aware you were not; we know you did not 
 live on the premises, and that you were in 
 
 188 
 
Long Branch, N. J., registered at the Ocean 
 Hotel, at the time; but that does not exon- 
 erate you in the eyes of the law ; they were your 
 buildings and your tenants, and, when on the 
 stand and under oath, you had to admit it. 
 Therefore you are not a fit person to practice 
 medicine, and we are sure the authorities, 
 when appealed to, will so decide." 
 
 Now possibly the reader, if versed in legal 
 lore, may understand the connection, but it 
 "beats" me. I never could see where it "came 
 in." Yet this was my case exactly, only in- 
 stead of being a licensed physician I was a 
 licensed theatrical agent, and the other agents 
 were sure that I was not a fit person to con- 
 duct a theatrical agency because ten years pre- 
 viously a handful of my tenants, in a certain 
 part of the city, had disturbed the peace of 
 the neighborhood; wherefore they appealed to 
 the authorities. 
 
 On the first day of each May in each year 
 a theatrical agent's license expires. Then if 
 the agent wishes to continue in the business 
 he must make application for a new license; 
 and under the license law, as recently 
 amended, it is left entirely to the discretion of 
 the License Commissioner as to whether or 
 
 189 
 
not he will grant a license. Actuated by 
 prejudice, spite, animosity, political influence, 
 a desire to accommodate friends or to obey the 
 commands of a district leader, or for any 
 other unlawful cause he may say, "In my dis- 
 cretion I decline to issue a license." And the 
 applicant, however, worthy, has no redress 
 other than an appeal to the Appellate Division 
 of the Supreme Court, which entails an enor- 
 mous expense and a delay of about eighteen 
 months. 
 
 My application for a new license was de- 
 nied, but, as previously stated, no reason could 
 be shown why my old license could be re- 
 voked ; and, as a matter of fact and record, it 
 was not revoked; statements made by the news- 
 papers to the contrary, notwithstanding. My 
 enemies were obliged to wait until my old 
 license had died a natural death, expired by 
 limitation, before objecting to its renewal. But 
 when the time arrived to apply for a new 
 license, May i, 1906, then it was that my en- 
 emies put the so-called benevolent women's 
 leagues to the front. 
 
 The fact that there had been nothing in the 
 legal or moral conduct of my agency business 
 during the years in which I had been engaged 
 
 IOO 
 
in it that any person could object to, was not 
 to be taken into consideration. The "Honor- 
 able" John N. Bogart, License Commissioner, 
 in the exercise of his discretion, ruled that that 
 had nothing to do with the matter. Did my 
 West Eighteenth street tenants ten years ago 
 disturb the peace of the neighborhood? That 
 was the question and, to settle it, he, the herein 
 named Commissioner, allowed the allies of the 
 theatrical agents, the so-called women's benev- 
 olent leagues, to go back to the time of my 
 "flat" trial, 1896, and assign it as a sufficient 
 cause why I should not, in 1906, ten years 
 later, be legally permitted to honorably com- 
 pete against the theatrical agents. 
 
 The Theatrical Agents' Society made no 
 complaint against me but, nevertheless, cer- 
 tain members of their Union were instru- 
 mental in securing the services of Charlotte 
 Smith of the alleged Woman's Rescue League, 
 and Helen Arthur of the Municipal League, 
 to aid the License Commissioner in "pulling 
 the chestnuts out of the fire," so to speak. 
 
 In New York City there are many societies, 
 also individuals, trying to make a living with- 
 out working; parasites who eke out an exist- 
 ence by humbugging the people, and the 
 
 191 
 
meanest of all are those who obtain money 
 under false pretenses, by begging in the name 
 of charity; who pretend to be interested in the 
 unfortunate; but who, in reality, are only in- 
 terested in themselves. 
 
 These imposters, the majority of whom are 
 women, filch money from kind-hearted persons 
 in all walks of life by conveying the impres- 
 sion it is to be used in helping the helpless, 
 whereas the major portion of the funds so col- 
 lected are misappropriated and used in help- 
 ing themselves. To facilitate collections these 
 unprincipled professional beggars often unite 
 and form what they call a "League." 
 
 In forming a benevolent "League" of this 
 kind, the first requisite, after the promoters 
 have endowed it with an impressive name, but 
 no cash, is to rope in a few confiding estimable 
 women and make a dummy board of directors 
 of them. This gives prestige to the organiza- 
 tion, and enables the conspirators to carry 
 on their calling with profit to themselves. 
 Reputation is more to these people than jus- 
 tice. They are more anxious to seem saintly 
 than to be saintly. They have no respect for 
 truth, care nothing for facts, but are slaves to 
 custom. They subsist on public approval ; and 
 
 192 
 
the so-called officers, those who pay to them- 
 selves the salaries, are ever on the alert to sup- 
 press their unrighteous and make known their 
 righteous acts. They would bill the town like 
 a circus and blazon their good deeds far and 
 wide, if it did not cost money to advertise. It 
 is against their principles to pay for anything, 
 but if they can jump on any one, and thereby 
 gain a little free advertising, they will, with or 
 without evidence, pick up their skirts and 
 jump. 
 
 The License Commissioner and a few of the 
 smaller theatrical agents, realizing this fact, 
 and the importance of having arrayed against 
 me seemingly powerful and reputable wit- 
 nesses, invoked, as previously stated, the co- 
 operation of the aforementioned so-called 
 benevolent leagues. Therefore the question 
 arises, were my business competitors, those 
 who had connived with these "Leagues," and 
 the License Commissioner, guilty of criminal 
 conspiracy? 
 
 When two or more persons combine to in- 
 jure another person's reputation or business, 
 that, in the eyes of the law, constitutes criminal 
 conspiracy. 
 
 Judge Hough, of the United States Court, 
 
 193 
 
when instructing a jury regarding conspiracy, 
 said: "A conspiracy is a confederation to effect 
 by unlawful means a legal end, or by legal 
 means an illegal end. It is not necessary that 
 two or more men meet and formally enter into 
 an agreement or unlawful scheme. It is 
 enough, if two or more men, in any manner, 
 come to a mutual understanding to accomplish 
 an unlawful design. All parties become part- 
 ners to a conspiracy, even if the part is a sub- 
 ordinate one. 
 
 "Our statutes insist that at least one shall 
 actually perform some act to effect the object 
 of the conspiracy. The act must be an overt 
 one, but not in itself a crime." 
 
 In reply to a juror's question, "Does crim- 
 inal intent to commit the overt act have to be 
 shown?" Judge Hough said, "If the acts speak 
 for themselves you are at liberty to infer the 
 intent." 
 
 I shall leave it to the reader to determine 
 whether or not the acts, hereinafter set forth, 
 of those who conspired against me, speak for 
 themselves. If they do, then according to 
 Judge Hough (and no one can say he is not an 
 authority) the reader is at liberty to infer the 
 intent. 
 
 194 
 
I shall tell you who they are and cite their 
 acts, the acts of the leading actors in chrono- 
 logical order, one at a time, so that the reader 
 may see if the acts of each "speak for them- 
 selves." 
 
 Charlotte Smith. Who is Charlotte Smith? 
 She styles herself President of the "National 
 and International Woman's Rescue League." 
 No address. 
 
 I quote from the minutes of my third hear- 
 ing before the License Commissioner: 
 
 By H. D. Mildeberger (Mr. Flagg's law- 
 yer) : "Mrs. Smith, where is your league 
 located — your office?" 
 
 "We have no office just now." 
 
 "Did this league of yours ever have an 
 office?" 
 
 (Witness refuses to answer.) 
 
 "Is it not a fact that your Rescue League is 
 a myth?" 
 
 (Witness refuses to answer.) 
 
 By Lawyer Goodhart (attorney for the al- 
 leged "Woman's Rescue League") : "I object 
 to all further questions about this league. We 
 will allow it to be understood that this wit- 
 ness does not appear here as representing any 
 league, but simply as a private citizen." 
 
 195 
 
By Mr. Mildeberger. "This woman has 
 been giving it out, representing to the public 
 and to the newspapers that she is the President 
 of the Woman's Rescue League. I claim 
 and I can prove by affidavits and by the So- 
 ciety for the Prevention of Crime and by 
 other equally credible witnesses that no such 
 league exists; that it is a myth and that this 
 witness is an impostor. I also claim these 
 questions in order to attack the credibility 
 of the witness, and this I have a legal right 
 to do." 
 
 By the License Commissioner: "You might 
 have that right in a court of law, but WE DO 
 THINGS DIFFERENTLY HERE. I will not allow 
 any questions regarding this league because ac- 
 cording to the statement of the attorney who 
 represents this witness, no such league appears 
 here or is represented before me." 
 
 So much for Charlotte Smith. Now Helen 
 Arthur. Who is Helen Arthur? She is 
 a lawyer in petticoats; the legal ad- 
 viser and head of the "Research De- 
 partment" of the Woman's Municipal League, 
 19 East Twenty-sixth street, New York City. 
 But with all the facilities of the "Research De- 
 partment" of this league at her command she 
 
 196 
 
failed to find or coerce any person (and she 
 tried for weeks) who could, or did, have aught 
 to say against me. Furthermore, although she 
 was looking for trouble, looking for it all the 
 time, she failed to discover anything out of 
 the way, in the conduct of my business, the con- 
 duct of my customers, the conduct of my 
 young women clients, or my own conduct; and 
 subsequently she so stated in writing and I 
 hold the original letter. And this letter was 
 given to me after this league had employed 
 both men and women accomplices to call at 
 my office and try in every way possible, by ly- 
 ing and spying, to entrap me. But I never 
 would have known this had not Helen Arthur 
 told me. 
 
 It was only at rare intervals that improper 
 proposals were made to me, and when made 
 by a woman I would order her out of my office, 
 and when made by a man I would kick him 
 out. 
 
 Miss Arthur knows what happened to the 
 man she sent to me, and yet, knowing how he 
 made his exit from my office, she — Helen Ar- 
 thur — to accommodate the License Commis- 
 sioner, although she had no complaint to enter 
 against me, appeared at my hearing, March 
 
 197 
 
28th, 1906, thereby conferring upon the Com- 
 missioner the benefit of the prestige of the 
 league she represented. 
 
 Bogart evidently believed that it would 
 "clear his skirts" of being in collusion with 
 the other conspirators to say the Woman's 
 Municipal League had appeared against me; 
 and so anxious was he to be able to say this that 
 he asked Helen Arthur (so she says) to be 
 present with or without a complaint, and to 
 accommodate him she was on hand and did the 
 best she could. She "button-holed" the re- 
 porters, and also the Associated Press repre- 
 sentative, and intimated to him and to the 
 others that "Some day — some day, the Wo- 
 man's Municipal League, now that I am at the 
 head of its 'Research Department,' may have 
 a complaint to lodge against Flagg." "Some 
 day — some day" — Lawyer Helen Arthur may 
 become a Justice of the Supreme Court. 
 
 Later, realizing the gravity of the crime she 
 had committed, and having heard that the Dis- 
 trict Attorney had made demand on Cullkon 
 to produce the minutes of the secret Sunday 
 night meeting, and fearing a prosecution for 
 criminal conspiracy, this weak-minded woman 
 
 198 
 
retracted in writing all that she had said 
 against me. So much for Helen Arthur. 
 
 Now Goodhart. Who's Lawrence G. Good- 
 hart? He says he is Austin Davis, the theat- 
 rical agent's lawyer, and there is no question 
 about it. Some time prior to the March 25, 
 1906, Sunday night meeting, Davis instituted 
 a damage suit against the Morning Telegraph 
 Publishing Company, Eighth avenue and Fif- 
 tieth street, New York City, and as Good- 
 hart's name appears on the complaint as the at- 
 torney of record, it is proof positive that Good- 
 hart is his lawyer. Please do not lose sight of 
 this fact, nor of the fact that Davis is a mem- 
 ber of the Theatrical Agents' Society. 
 
 Away back, years ago, long before any 
 theatrical agent wanted to put me out of busi- 
 ness, Charlotte Smith introduced herself to 
 Goodhart's client, Austin Davis; and, as time 
 rolled by, became well acquainted both with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Davis; but they did not become 
 so well acquainted with her. By her hypocrit- 
 ical representations they were led to believe 
 that she was a Christian woman. 
 
 Early in the month of September, 1905, she 
 dropped into Davis's office to have a "heart to 
 heart" talk with him and his wife. She 
 
 199 
 
wanted them to supply her with "talent" free 
 in order that she might give herself a benefit, 
 but she did not say so to Davis. She told him 
 the proceeds of the proposed benefit were to 
 go to Bertha Claiche, the poor "white slave 
 girl," at that time incarcerated in the Tombs, 
 charged with murder. 
 
 Davis, impressed by Mrs. Smith's seeming 
 good intentions, agreed to help her out, sup- 
 posing, of course, as also did the performers, 
 that the money really was to go to the poor 
 "white slave girl." But Davis knows better 
 now. 
 
 The entertainment was given in Association 
 Hall, No. 1 60 West Twenty-ninth street, 
 New York City, September 28th, 1905; but 
 Charlotte Smith, so it is said, got away with 
 the entire box-office receipts. At all events 
 this much is certain, Bertha, for whose benefit 
 the entertainment was supposed to have been 
 given, did not receive a penny and wrote Davis 
 a letter, from the Tombs, to this effect. 
 
 Davis is one of the kind, whose temperature 
 rises and falls in a hurry, and when told that 
 Charlotte Smith had skipped with Bertha's 
 box-office receipts he was hot, but he cooled 
 off. 
 
 200 
 
In December, 1905, after the Bertha Claiche 
 affair had "blown over," the alleged president, 
 Charlotte Smith, of the fictitious "National 
 and International League" again "turned up" 
 at the theatrical office of Austin Davis. This 
 time she was more modest in her demands. 
 She did not mention "benefit," she substituted a 
 different word — "accommodate." If Davis 
 would accommodate her by writing two let- 
 ters, on his theatrical letterhead paper; one 
 asking her to rescue certain young women who 
 had been enticed into an immoral resort, and 
 the other, dated two weeks later, thanking her 
 for having done so; in other words, thanking 
 her for having rescued young women who did 
 not exist; it would place her under obligations 
 to him. She wanted these two letters for beg- 
 ging purposes. She needed the money and the 
 letters were important; she could show them, 
 use them as evidence to prove that she was 
 consecrating her life to a noble cause — the res- 
 cuing of the fallen ; whereas the only case on 
 record, the only person whom she was ever 
 known to have rescued from want, was herself, 
 and she accomplished this by begging from 
 and imposing on the charitably inclined. 
 
 When Mrs. Davis discovered that Mr. 
 
 201 
 
Davis had signed and given this woman these 
 two letters she became excited. Women do, 
 sometimes, become excited; and Mrs. Davis 
 told me herself that she had no use for women 
 of the Charlotte Smith stripe. But Mr. Davis 
 explained to his wife, and I was present at 
 the time, that Mrs. Smith was a dangerous 
 and scheming woman; there was no telling 
 what she might do; she might have made 
 trouble for them both had he refused to com- 
 ply with her request. He gave her the letters 
 not because he wanted to, but because he con- 
 sidered it the part of discretion not to incur 
 her enmity. He admitted to his wife that he 
 would like to have his letters back, and told 
 me he had already consulted his lawyer, Law- 
 rence G. Goodhart, about the matter, and 
 Goodhart had advised him to have no more 
 dealings with the woman as she was unques- 
 tionably an impostor. 
 
 It is important to keep in mind that all this 
 — my conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Davis 
 and his interview with his legal adviser, Good- 
 hart, relative to the two begging letters — took 
 place in 1905. It was in this year that Davis 
 signed the spurious begging letters to accom- 
 modate Charlotte Smith; and it was in 1906 
 
 202 
 
that Charlotte Smith signed a spurious com- 
 plaining letter to accommodate Davis. 
 
 The day after the secret Sunday night meet- 
 ing, held March 25th, 1906, in Cullison's 
 office, for the purpose of discussing me, Char- 
 lotte Smith called on Davis's lawyer, this self- 
 same Lawrence G. Goodhart, attorney-at-law, 
 No. 21 Park Row, New York City, with a let- 
 ter of introduction, dated one day later, 
 March 26th, 1906. This is not disputed. 
 
 Now who sent her to Goodhart's office? 
 Did someone at that secret Sunday night 
 meeting, held the evening before the day she 
 called on Davis's lawyer, make a motion that 
 she, Charlotte Smith, be secured to aid them 
 in their effort to deprive me of my license; 
 and did it go down on the minutes of the 
 meeting that this pretender was to co-operate 
 with them in the conspiracy to put me out of 
 business? 
 
 Now do you understand why District 
 Attorney Jerome could not lay hands on those 
 minutes? Can you imagine why they were 
 spirited away; why every "mother's son" of 
 them in that room, that night, there assembled 
 for the purpose of discussing me, would rather 
 be fined and sent to jail for contempt of court 
 
 203 
 
than be "brought up" on the more serious 
 charge of criminal conspiracy with ten to 
 twenty years staring them in the face? Can 
 you blame them, under such circumstances, 
 for doing away with such incriminating evi- 
 dence, the minutes of such a meeting? 
 
 Davis was a member of the Agents' Union. 
 Goodhart was his lawyer. The day after the 
 union held its meeting, Mrs. Smith was 
 closeted with Goodhart and the outcome was 
 the following letter. I quote from the minutes 
 of my first hearing before the License Com- 
 missioner. 
 
 By Commissioner Bogart: "Under date of 
 April 3d, 1906, I received the following letter, 
 addressed to the Commissioner of Licenses: 
 Dear Sir — My client, the Woman's Rescue 
 League, instructs me on its behalf to protest 
 against the granting of a renewal license to one 
 Jared Flagg. And to support its protest, re- 
 spectfully calls your attention to the following 
 facts: Mr. Flagg has been advertising in the 
 daily papers for young girls to act as artists' 
 models; and in this connection, and as bearing 
 upon Mr. Flagg's fitness to conduct such an 
 agency and for such a purpose, the enclosed 
 memorandum and letter taken from the files 
 
 204 
 
of the Woman's Rescue League will prove in- 
 teresting. If you desire any other information 
 upon this point the officers of the League stand 
 ready to appear before you at any hearing you 
 may fix. My client further instructs me to 
 call your attention to the fact, publicly re- 
 ported in the daily newspapers, that Jared 
 Flagg served under his own name at Auburn 
 State's Prison, a sentence of about two years 
 for the crime of decoying young girls to houses 
 of ill-repute which he rented for that purpose. 
 Of course I make these statements as attorney 
 for the League, and my client stands ready to 
 back them up by ample and sufficient evidence. 
 
 As I have stated, the enclosed copy of a 
 letter and explanatory note is taken from the 
 files of the League. The letter was sent to 
 Mr. Flagg and there is every reason to believe 
 it was received, as my client's name and ad- 
 dress was in the corner of the envelope upon 
 its regular printed form and the letter has 
 never been returned by the post office. 
 "Very truly yours, 
 "Lawrence G. Goodhart, 
 
 "Attorney for Woman's Rescue League." 
 
 It cannot be presumed that an out and out 
 
 205 
 
fool could become a member of the New 
 York Bar. Therefore, conceive if you can, 
 an intelligent lawyer holding some such con- 
 versation as the following with a half-witted 
 old woman : 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: How did you make out 
 last year with those fake letters you got Davis 
 to write for you for begging purposes? 
 
 Old Woman: Those letters paid well and I 
 feel deeply obligated to Davis, and that is why 
 I am here. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Yes, I know. So I am 
 to put in legal form that the Woman's Rescue 
 League wishes to make a protest against the 
 granting of a renewal license to one Jared 
 Flagg? 
 
 Old Woman: That's the idea. We pro- 
 pose to put him out of business. He's a bad 
 man. He once bribed Reverend Doctor C. H. 
 Parkhurst and President Theodore Roosevelt 
 to testify for him. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Don't say that, my 
 dear madam, that's a little too much. We want 
 the charges we bring against this man to 
 seem, at least, half-way reasonable. 
 
 Old Woman: But it is true, he bribed them 
 all right. I am the president of the "National 
 
 206 
 
and International Woman's Rescue League'' 
 and I ought to know. I may not be so sure 
 about Roosevelt, but I know all about Park- 
 hurst and Flagg. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: And you desire me 
 to call the License Commissioner's attention 
 to the fact that Flagg has been advertising in 
 the daily papers for young girls to act as 
 artists' models? 
 
 Old Woman: Yes. Isn't it disgraceful? 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: In what papers does his 
 advertisement appear? 
 
 Old Woman: All of them I suppose. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Name one. 
 
 Old Woman: It was some time ago and I 
 forget. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Could I send to a 
 newspaper clipping bureau; have the files ex- 
 amined and by this means procure such an 
 advertisement? 
 
 Old Woman: There are so many advertise- 
 ments I can't guarantee you'll find his, but I 
 am sure I saw it somewhere in some paper. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: When? 
 
 Old Woman : How can I remember when? 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Was it this, or last 
 year, or the one before that? 
 
 207 
 
Old Woman: Really I cannot say. It's 
 too bad. I should have preserved the paper. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Oh, well, never mind, 
 you are sure you saw it somewhere and we'll 
 "stick" it down anyway. 
 
 Old Woman: I have a memorandum or 
 letter that might prove interesting to the Com- 
 missioner, but I do not know what I did 
 with it. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Who wrote it? 
 Old Woman : It was not signed. 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Positive you cannot 
 find it? 
 
 Old Woman: Not to save my life. I have 
 looked everywhere. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Oh, well, never mind, 
 we'll make a bluff that we have such a letter 
 and "stick" it down anyway. 
 
 Old Woman: If the Commissioner wants 
 any information about this lost anonymous let- 
 ter, tell him the officers of the "Woman's Res- 
 cue League" stand ready to appear before him 
 at any hearing he may fix. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Then you have offi- 
 cers? I thought you were the whole things 
 president, secretary and treasurer. 
 
 Old Woman: I am, but Miss Burt, of 132 
 
 208 
 
West Sixty-second street, might say that she is 
 the secretary. She is a friend of mine. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: But you have no head- 
 quarters, no office, no home for the fallen? 
 
 Old Woman: Perhaps Miss Burt would 
 let us call her flat our headquarters. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: How large is her flat? 
 
 Old Woman: Kitchen, bedroom and bath. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Oh, well, never mind, 
 we'll call it a home for the fallen and "stick" 
 it down anyway. 
 
 Old Woman: It was reported in the daily 
 papers that Jared Flagg served under his own 
 name, in Auburn State's Prison, a sentence of 
 two years, for the crime of decoying young 
 girls to houses of ill-repute which he rented 
 for that purpose. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Can you name any one 
 of the daily papers that published all this? 
 
 Old Woman: How can I remember the 
 names of the papers? 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: I wish you could men- 
 tion the name of at least one paper, or the 
 name of at least one of the girls, or the loca- 
 tion of one of the houses to which he decoyed 
 the girls, or the Court before which he was 
 tried and convicted, or the time when he was 
 
 20Q 
 
sentenced or some one of the essential circuin 
 stances, so as to make it look a little better to 
 the newspaper reporters who will, in all prob- 
 ability, be on hand when we publicly charge 
 him with being a convicted felon. 
 
 Old Woman: I wish I could, but I can't. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Oh, well, never mind, 
 we'll "stick" it down as the truth anyway. 
 
 Old Woman : That's about all. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: That's about enough, 
 and before I get through with him he will rue 
 the day he refused to joint the Agents' Union. 
 Oh, by the way, I think we had better put in 
 that my client stands ready to back these 
 charges up by ample and sufficient evidence. 
 
 Old Woman: But you know I have no evi- 
 dence. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Oh, well, never mind, 
 we'll "stick" it down anyway. 
 
 Old Woman: Be sure to sign your name as 
 attorney for the "Woman's Rescue League"; 
 it will look well in the newspapers. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Legally I have no 
 right to represent a make-believe league with- 
 out an address. 
 
 Old Woman: I cannot help that. If this 
 case gets in the newspapers it will advertise us 
 
 210 
 
both. The newspaper account of this hearing 
 will be worth money to me. I can show it to 
 people. It will prove that I am really the 
 president of the "Woman's Rescue League," 
 and it will help me in getting subscriptions for 
 myself. I can explain to the charitably in- 
 clined that it takes money to retain lawyers, so 
 I want you to sign the letter. 
 
 Intelligent Lawyer: Oh, well, I ought not 
 to do it, but I'll "stick" it down anyway. 
 
 I do not claim that the foregoing conversa- 
 tion occurred. 
 
 The intelligent lawyer, Goodhart, undoubt- 
 edly explained, as best he could, to his half- 
 witted, old woman client, Charlotte Smith, 
 how he desired her to act when on the witness 
 stand, but it is problematical as to whether he 
 questioned her at all regarding the bogus 
 charges he, as attorney for the bogus "Wo- 
 man's Rescue League," proposed making and 
 ultimately made against me. If, however, he 
 did question her, it is reasonable to assume 
 that her replies to his questions were, in sub- 
 stance, the same as her replies to my lawyer's 
 questions when he cross-examined her regard- 
 ing the same bogus charges. If this is so, then 
 Goodhart heard before, observe, before he 
 
 211 
 
made the charges against me, he heard, from 
 the lips of his own client, Charlotte Smith, 
 that she could not produce one witness, or a 
 scrap of evidence of any kind, to substantiate 
 any one of the charges he was about to make 
 on behalf of the bogus "Woman's Rescue 
 League." And yet, cognizant of this fact, he 
 deliberately, in public, with the room full of 
 reporters, at my hearing before the License 
 Commissioner, made them. He made them 
 knowing that every newspaper in the city 
 would publish them as true, and this is just 
 what they did do. 
 
 At my third hearing, several days later, be- 
 fore the License Commissioner the charges he 
 had previously made were proven ABSOLUTELY 
 FALSE and without foundation. But the news- 
 papers made no mention of this fact. 
 
 I quote from the minutes of my third hear- 
 ing before the License Commissioner, that the 
 reader may know the replies Charlotte Smith 
 made when testifying under oath, to my law- 
 yer's questions relating to the false charges 
 contained in the aforementioned letter, which 
 was read to the newspaper reporters at my 
 first hearing. 
 
 (By H. D. Mildeberger, Mr. Flagg's law- 
 
 212 
 
yer.) "Mrs. Smith, you charge Mr. Flagg 
 with having advertised in the daily papers for 
 young girls to act as artists' models?" 
 Mrs. Smith: "Yes." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Can you mention the 
 name of any paper containing any such adver- 
 tisement?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "No." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Can you remember 
 when you saw any such advertisement?" 
 Mrs. Smith: "No." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "As bearing on this sub- 
 ject it is stated that a memorandum or letter 
 taken from the files of your 'League/ will 
 prove interesting to the Commissioner. Was 
 any such memorandum or letter sent to the 
 Commissioner, or have you any such memo- 
 randum or letter in your possession?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "I did have, but can't find it." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "It is stated that the 
 officers of your 'League' stand ready to ap- 
 pear before his Honor, the Commissioner, at 
 any hearing he may fix. Is this true?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "I don't know." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "What is the Woman's 
 Rescue League?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "I am the president of the 
 
 213 
 
National and International Woman's Rescue 
 League." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Who is its vice-presi- 
 dent?" 
 
 Objected to by Lawyer Goodhart. 
 
 Objection sustained by his Honor the 
 License Commissioner. 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Who is its secretary?" 
 
 Objected to by Goodhart. 
 
 Objection sustained by his Honor the Com- 
 missioner. 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Who is its treasurer?" 
 Objected to by Goodhart. 
 Objection sustained by his Honor the Com- 
 missioner. 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Did you tell Mr. 
 Goodhart that Mr. Flagg had served two 
 years in Auburn State's Prison?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "I told him I thought I had 
 seen it so reported in the newspapers." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Mr. Goodhart stated 
 in his letter to the Commissioner that his 
 client (meaning you) stood ready to back up 
 these charges with ample and sufficient evi- 
 dence. Did you tell him that you had such 
 evidence?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "I did not." 
 
 214 
 
Mr. Mildeberger: "Did you tell Mr. 
 Goodhart that you could prove Mr. Flagg had 
 served a term in Auburn State's Prison or any 
 other State's prison?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "I did not." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Did you tell him that 
 you could produce evidence to prove that Mr. 
 Flagg had sent girls to houses of ill-repute or 
 that you could mention the names of any such 
 girls?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "Well, I told him I would 
 try to find such evidence." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Well, can you men- 
 tion the name of any one girl, or the location 
 of any one disreputable house, or person, to 
 whom a girl was ever sent by Mr. Flagg?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "No, but a party uptown 
 told me he thought he had heard of some such 
 thing." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "Did you ever meet a 
 girl, or do you know of any person who ever 
 did meet one, who claimed to have been sent 
 by Mr. Flagg to such a resort or to such a 
 person?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "In going about, so many 
 people tell me so many things on different 
 matters that I can't remember." 
 
 215 
 
Mr. Mildeberger: "Mrs. Smith— and I 
 want you to think carefully before answering 
 this question — can you produce any evidence 
 at all to substantiate any one of the charges 
 your so-called 'Woman's National and Inter- 
 national Rescue League' has preferred against 
 Jared Flagg?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith: "Since hearing that these 
 charges had been made against Flagg in the 
 newspapers, I have been looking and expect- 
 ing to get such evidence, but have not been able 
 to get hold of any." 
 
 Mr. Mildeberger: "That's all for the 
 present." 
 
 Now then, if Goodhart did not question his 
 client, did not know what her answers would 
 be to these questions until he heard them under 
 cross-examination on the witness-stand, whom 
 do you suppose he questioned? 
 
 No man, however depraved, would com- 
 pose such a letter, containing such charges 
 against a person whom he knew or did not 
 know, without an incentive. 
 
 When, where and by whom the letter was 
 originally framed up I do not say. It was 
 dated April 3d, 1906, eight days after the 
 secret Sunday night meeting, held to discuss 
 
 216 
 
me, in Cullison's office, and it was signed 
 "Lawrence G. Goodhart, Attorney for the 
 Woman's Rescue League." But at this time 
 Goodhart did not know me from Adam. He 
 may have heard of me, but he also may have 
 heard of Adam, so who put him up to it? He 
 says (and I am quoting from the minutes of 
 my third hearing before the License Com- 
 missioner) : "I wrote that letter out of charity. 
 I am an American citizen" (he does not look 
 it, but he says it) "and I am proud of my 
 native city, New York. I regard this cur a 
 menace to the community, and I want to put 
 him where he belongs, behind the bars." 
 
 Vituperation is not evidence, but as Good- 
 hart had no evidence this was undoubtedly the 
 best he could do. Yet as a rule persons do not 
 pamper their vanity to such an extent. The 
 pride Mr. Goodhart takes in his native city 
 would not in itself have induced him to ruin a 
 fellow citizen's business and reputation, even 
 if he had in his possession evidence of wrong- 
 doing. Much less then would his pride have 
 induced him to ruin my business and reputa- 
 tion, without a particle of evidence, in or out 
 of his possession, of wrongdoing. We must 
 therefore look for some stronger motive. He 
 
had a motive; it was an ulterior one, and he 
 was afraid to let it be known, but inadver- 
 tently, after a magnificent burst of vitupera- 
 tion displaying knowledge of the phraseology 
 of the slums, and just as he was about to take 
 his seat, he remarked (and I am quoting his 
 exact words taken from the minutes) : "Austin 
 Davis, the theatrical agent, and other clients 
 of mine have been looking up Flagg's record 
 and I have been helping them." 
 
 That was an error. Goodhart should have 
 kept that information to himself. 
 
 "Davis and other clients have been looking 
 up Flagg's record and I have been helping 
 them." 
 
 Before a lawyer will help a client he usually 
 wants a retainer. Is this not so? Now we 
 are getting at the motive. Goodhart was 
 helping them. Charlotte Smith, he says, paid 
 him no fee. This seems reasonable. The poor 
 old lady was not in a position to pay anyone 
 money. She had not given herself a benefit 
 performance for almost a year. But Davis — 
 "Davis," Goodhart says, "and other clients" — 
 "other," of course there were others. Davis 
 was not the only member of the Theatrical 
 Agents' Society, and a little assessment, all 
 
 218 
 
around, might have a tendency to make Good- 
 hart "get busy." But why did he not, if they 
 had been looking up my record, invite them 
 down to my hearing and give them all a chance 
 to tell us what immoral, improper, fraudulent 
 or illegal acts of mine they had unearthed? 
 
 Out of all the theatrical agents that had 
 been engaged, according to Goodhart's own 
 words, in looking up my record, not one could 
 be found to come down and testify against 
 me. Does this not seem a little strange? Why 
 did Goodhart not "trot" down a few of them? 
 Why could he not coax Cullison or Davis to 
 put in an appearance, and so give my lawyer 
 an opportunity to ask them why they had 
 waited until this late date to look up my 
 record? 
 
 Cullison had known me for years. Davis 
 had known me and had done business with me 
 for five years. He had made commissions by 
 placing my clients on the stage. He had, occa- 
 sionally, accepted of my hospitality, and I had 
 also, from time to time, assisted him, by refer- 
 ring young women and young men to him who 
 wished to take dancing lessons. In connection 
 with his agency he conducted a stage dancing 
 academy. He once offered, and wanted me to 
 
 219 
 
accept, in consideration of sending these extra 
 pupils to him a part of his tuition fees. But I 
 felt that both he and his wife worked hard for 
 their money, and were entitled to it all ; so, re- 
 fused to take one dollar from him. 
 
 Davis has written me many letters. One 
 will suffice to explain the tenor of all: 
 
 ."Austin Davis Theatrical Exchange, 
 45 West Twenty-ninth Street, 
 
 New York, September 29th, 1904. 
 Mr. Jared Flagg: 
 
 Dear Sir. — A few lines to thank you for 
 remembering the office. The young lady 
 called to-day and arranged with my wife for 
 a complete course of chorus training. In re- 
 gard to the other young ladies I will let you 
 hear from me in a day or two as to the exact 
 time I shall want them in the city. I refer 
 to the six I spoke to you about. 
 
 Would be pleased to have you call in any 
 evening you can conveniently do so. With 
 best wishes from us both, I remain, 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 (signed) AUSTIN DAVIS." 
 
 The reader may notice that this communica- 
 tion is dated September 29th, 1904. It was 
 
 220 
 
along in 1905 and 1906 that Davis and Culli- 
 son and some of the other agents commenced 
 to feel uneasy because the theatrical managers 
 were pouring in their orders to me direct, 
 thus curtailing their income — the fees — that 
 is, the fees my clients had formerly paid to the 
 agents for "booking." Now I was doing the 
 "booking," and yet only charging my regula- 
 tion two dollar per year registration fee. This 
 Davis, and some of the other agents, thought 
 was a little "too much of a good thing." Davis 
 became alarmed, and started in with others, so 
 Lawyer Goodhart says, to look up my record. 
 He said it and it is down in black and white on 
 the minutes of my third hearing before the 
 License Commissioner. But how embarrassing 
 my lawyer would have made it for those agents 
 if they had "shown up" at my hearing. Think 
 of the letters he would have requested them to 
 read. 
 
 At the time of my hearing there was not in 
 all this city a theatrical agent who had not 
 transacted business with me, and letters — I 
 had them on file by the hundreds — letters of 
 the most cordial kind, thanking me for favors 
 extended. Think how these agents, I refer to 
 the ones who were engaged in looking up my 
 
 221 
 
record, would have enjoyed reading those let- 
 ters, and identifying their signatures. Think 
 of the questions my lawyer would have asked. 
 Would he have wanted to know why in the 
 name of common-sense they had waited so 
 long before manifesting a disposition to inves- 
 tigate my morality? Could any one of them, 
 or rather would any one of them, have dared 
 to give the real reason? Can you not see, now, 
 why they kept in the background, and held 
 their little secret Sunday night meeting be- 
 hind locked doors in Cullison's office, and 
 elected to make "scapegoats" of Helen Arthur, 
 Charlotte Smith, Lawrence G. Goodhart and 
 John N. Bogart? 
 
 This quartette they put to the front to do 
 their "dirty work," and the following dates 
 indicate how well they did it: 
 
 The invitation to the secret Sunday night 
 meeting was dated March 20th, 1906. The 
 meeting itself was held five days later on 
 March 25th, 1906. The letter introducing 
 Charlotte Smith to Goodhart was dated one 
 day later, March 26th, 1906. The letter con- 
 taining the bogus charges was dated eight days 
 later, April 3d, 1906. The letter notifying me 
 to appear before the License Commissioner 
 
 222 
 
was dated twenty-three days later, April 26th, 
 1906. The hearing was held two days later, 
 on April 28th, 1906, and on May 2d, 1906, 
 three days later, I was out of business. 
 
 Any missing links in this chain? Any link 
 which does not connect with the preceding 
 and succeeding one? Do not the dates "dove- 
 tail" in, one with the other, in perfect se- 
 quence as step by step the plot unfolds itself? 
 If dramatized verbatim and placed on the 
 stage, could there be a better satire on justice? 
 
 "All parties become partners to a conspir- 
 acy, even if the part they enact be a subordi- 
 nate one." 
 
 If the reader thinks that the party who 
 signed and claims to have drafted the afore- 
 mentioned letter of April 3d, 1906, charging 
 me with having enticed young girls to houses 
 of ill repute, etc., etc., committed an overt 
 act, it is not essential that his criminal in- 
 tent be shown, provided the letter speaks for 
 itself. If the reader is under the impression 
 that this letter, reeking, from the first to the 
 last paragraph, with spurious, lying state- 
 ments, does speak for itself, then he is "at lib- 
 erty to infer the intent." 
 
 So much for Lawrence G. Goodhart. Now 
 Bogart. 
 
 223 
 
Who is John N. Bogart? He is a man who 
 
 swore, when appointed Commissioner of Li- 
 censes, to conduct the business of his office in 
 a fair and impartial manner. He is a man 
 whom the people of this city, through their 
 Mayor, have vested with extraordinary 
 powers; the power to act as prosecutor, de- 
 fender, jury and judge. Hence, it becomes his 
 sacred duty to conserve the rights of the ac- 
 cused as well as those of the accusers, and in 
 taking his oath of office he swore so to do, sol- 
 emnly swore to conduct the License Bureau of 
 this great city in a fair and impartial manner. 
 But it seems to me, when I was brought up 
 before him, he acted most unfairly. How- 
 ever, it is for the reader to be the judge. 
 
 Mr. Bogart knew twenty-five days before 
 notifying me to appear before him that the 
 charge of advertising for young girls to act 
 as artists' models was to be made, and fur- 
 thermore must have known that those who 
 were to prefer this charge against me had no 
 grounds for making it, and that it was utterly 
 false. 
 
 There is no law to prevent "young girls" or 
 even children from posing for artists. If there 
 were no models there would be no sculptors, 
 
 224 
 
pictures or statuary. But I never advertised 
 in my life for "young girls to act as artists' 
 models;" and, had I attempted to do so, could 
 not, for the obvious reason that no city or 
 country newspaper will accept an advertise- 
 ment of this nature. If there is such a thing 
 as presumptive evidence it is to be presumed 
 that Mr. Bogart was aware of this fact. It is 
 part of his official business to scan daily, or to 
 have scrutinized daily, every help wanted 
 male and female advertisement that appears 
 in the newspapers of Greater New York. The 
 city supplies him with these papers expressly 
 for this purpose, and he must have known that 
 the charge was ridiculous on its face. Yet he 
 not only authorized it to be made in public 
 against me, but accepted the letter in which it 
 was made, as evidence. 
 
 Twenty-five days before he notified me to 
 appear before him this man, who had sworn 
 to conduct the business of his office in a fair 
 and impartial manner, knew that the charge 
 was to be made that I had served a sentence 
 of two years in Auburn State's Prison. In his 
 return to a writ of certiorari, served on him by 
 my lawyer, he admits that he knew such a 
 charge was to be made TWENTY-FIVE days be- 
 
 225 
 
fore he allowed it to be made in public. Think 
 of it. He admits that he knew the accusation 
 was to be made, TWENTY-FIVE days before it 
 was made, in public against me ; and yet during 
 all this time, three weeks and over, this high 
 public official, who had sworn to conserve the 
 rights of the accused as well as those of the ac- 
 cusers, did not telephone, telegraph, write or 
 cause to be written, one word to the Warden 
 of Auburn State's Prison; nor did he, or any 
 other person, in any manner, shape or form, 
 communicate directly or indirectly, with the 
 Warden, or with any other person in author- 
 ity at Auburn, or with the Prison Department 
 at Albany, N. Y., or make the slightest effort, 
 or demand the slightest proof, from any one, to 
 substantiate the charge. 
 
 The official records of the License Bureau 
 show that this fact stands uncontradicted and 
 ADMITTED. Yet, in the face of it, John N. 
 Bogart, knowing that I was transacting a large 
 business, as shown by the bi-monthly reports 
 taken from my books by his own Deputy 
 License Commissioners, and submitted to him 
 for inspection, allowed them to make this 
 charge. Knowing, as he must have known, 
 from these reports that I had thousands of re- 
 
 226 
 
spectable young women and young men clients 
 in this city and in all parts of the country, he 
 sanctioned the making of this charge, the 
 charge that I had served a sentence of two 
 years for decoying young girls to houses of ill- 
 repute. Before he permitted this charge to be 
 made in public^ did he know that it would be 
 reported in the public press, and that, true or 
 false, my business would be ruined and my rep- 
 utation damned forever? Yes, he knew it. The 
 minutes of the hearing will prove that I told 
 him so myself at the time. 
 
 Before the letter was read aloud it was 
 shown to me. I pronounced it a tissue of lies 
 from beginning to end, and begged the Com- 
 missioner, almost on my knees, not to allow it 
 to be read in the presence of the reporters until 
 an investigation had been made. But as their 
 ONLY aim and his ONLY aim was to have it pub- 
 lished in the newspapers, he, John N. Bogart, 
 in my presence and against my emphatic pro- 
 test, and with a police officer at my back ready 
 to yank me out of the room if I created a scene, 
 this public official, whose sworn duty it was to 
 guard my rights, ordered the letter, this letter 
 of April 3d, 1906, containing the infamous and 
 false charges, to be read ALOUD in public. 
 
 227 
 
To be able to deal over again, year in and 
 year out, with the same people, the same old 
 customers, usually constitutes success in busi- 
 ness. We call it good-will. The good-will 
 of a good, straightforward business is valuable. 
 Anything of value is property. Without due 
 process of law, we have no right to deprive a 
 person of his property. Did John N. Bogart 
 deprive me of my property (the value of the 
 good-will of my business) without due process 
 of law, when he, without having made any in- 
 vestigation at all, gave that letter to the news- 
 papers? 
 
 The injury was inflicted there and then. 
 Lies have a stupendous circulation, and so 
 quickly did the false report spread, that al- 
 most from the moment it was given to the 
 press, my clients (and remember I had thou- 
 sands of them in all parts of the country, with 
 no way of imparting the truth to them), re- 
 garded me with derision and my office as 
 quarantined. From that moment they 
 shunned it as if it were infected with a 
 plague, and probably shuddered at their sup- 
 posed narrow escape. It may have been dif- 
 ficult for them to believe that their agent had 
 been guilty of sending any of his clients to 
 
 228 
 
houses of ill-repute, but it was in the news- 
 papers, and so must be true. Then they began 
 to fear that their relatives and friends might 
 believe that they had been sent to these houses 
 of ill-repute. So this vile charge reflected on 
 them as well as on me. 
 
 It was not only reported in the New York 
 daily papers, but also in the weekly dramatic 
 papers which are circulated all over the 
 United States and read by theatrical people 
 everywhere. 
 
 "FLAGG SERVED A SENTENCE OF 
 TWO YEARS IN AUBURN STATE'S 
 PRISON FOR THE CRIME OF DE- 
 COYING YOUNG GIRLS TO HOUSES 
 OF ILL-REPUTE," 
 
 was the way one leading theatrical paper — 
 The Morning Telegraph of May 2d, 1906 — 
 announced the news to its readers. 
 
 And the New York Herald of April 29th, 
 1906, in headline letters, stated that: "WOM- 
 AN'S Leagues of High Repute Protest 
 Against a Renewal of License in City 
 for jared flagg. it is charged that he 
 Conducted His Agency for Improper Pur- 
 poses/' 
 
 220 
 
The New York World of May 3d, 1906, 
 came out with the following: 
 
 "Flagg Denied a License. It has Been 
 Intimated That His Agency was in Real- 
 ity a Feeder for Disorderly Houses." 
 
 Other New York City daily papers, in sub- 
 stance, made similar statements. 
 
 Was this the kind of news Bogart and the 
 others wanted my clients and their parents to 
 read? 
 
 It does not seem right that any man should 
 be given such power, the power to make pub- 
 lic, without justification, such a charge; cast- 
 ing such a reflection on such a number of in- 
 nocent persons. 
 
 Fathers, mothers and brothers rushed to 
 my office. One brought a policeman with 
 him. "My sister — my daughter — was your 
 client. Tell me, tell me the truth; did you 
 ever, ever since she has been coming to your 
 office, ask her, send her, try to persuade her to 
 go to a disreputable house?" Ready to 
 tear me to pieces, and trembling with rage, 
 these were the questions fired at me, and had it 
 not been for despatches and telephone mes- 
 sages, received by them from Auburn Prison 
 authorities, in response to urgent inquiries, 
 my life would not have been worth two cents. 
 
 230 
 
I am not easily perturbed, but if there ever 
 was a time when I wanted to experience peace 
 and serenity, the kind that comes over a philos- 
 opher when incarcerated in a prison cell, it was 
 that day; the day they upset chairs, and 
 jammed, and surged, and forced their way into 
 my private office. Behind the uniformed officer 
 I stood, poking him in the ribs and urging him 
 to act quickly and arrest me; but the police 
 never were disposed to accommodate me and 
 this one would not on this occasion. 
 
 And, only to think! just one little cent 
 would have obviated the placing of me in this 
 false position. A penny postal card ad- 
 dressed to the Warden, would have brought 
 back to the Commissioner the truth, and well 
 John N. Bogart knew it. He knew it so 
 mightily well that he did not do it; but I did, 
 and the following is a copy of the reply I re- 
 ceived : 
 
 "To whom it may concern: 
 
 This is to certify that a careful examination 
 has been made of the records of Auburn 
 Prison, and the name of Jared Flagg does not 
 appear among the names of those received be- 
 tween the years 1894 an d 1898. Further- 
 more, the above name does not appear on the 
 
 231 
 
records prior or subsequent to the above men- 
 tioned period. 
 
 (signed) GEORGE W. BENHAM, 
 Warden Auburn State's Prison." 
 
 This document not only bore the official seal 
 of Auburn State's Prison, but was certified to 
 by the Prison Department at Albany. 
 
 With this paper in my possession I, person- 
 ally, appealed to the newspapers to set me 
 right with my clients and the public by pub- 
 lishing it, or by making a retraction. But not 
 one of them, the city dailies or the dramatic 
 weeklies, although they did not question its 
 authenticity, would do so. They were all will- 
 ing to publish the lies but unwilling to publish 
 the truth. 
 
 You can say what you like, it was pretty 
 tough; they were pounding me hard. The 
 esteem of thousands one day; the condemna- 
 tion of thousands the next day. To experience 
 and to stand up under this required fortitude. 
 But I am not asking commiseration. I want 
 only justice. 
 
 Now if the reader thinks that Mr. Bogart, 
 by abusing the great power this city has con- 
 ferred upon him, aided another, or others, in 
 bringing about this deplorable state of af- 
 
fairs; if he thinks that Mr. Bogart acted un- 
 justly in permitting Lawyer Goodhart, with- 
 out a semblance of evidence, and without 
 having made the slightest investigation, to 
 stand up in public and accuse me of having 
 served a sentence of two years in Auburn 
 State's Prison for the crime of decoying 
 young girls to houses of ill-repute, thereby 
 deceiving numberless fathers and mothers and 
 causing them to visit their wrath upon me. 
 when he, Bogart, had had so much time 
 (TWENTY-FIVE DAYS) , and could so easily have 
 ascertained the truth by communicating with 
 the Warden of the prison; and if the reader 
 thinks any or all of these acts tend to show 
 conspiracy on the part of Mr. Bogart, in con- 
 junction with another, or others, then he, "if 
 the acts speak for themselves, is at liberty to 
 infer the intent." So much for John N. 
 Bogart. 
 
 Now all during this time, the time between 
 the secret Sunday night meeting of March 
 25th, 1906, in Cullison's office, up to the very- 
 day before the hearing was to be called, I was 
 in total ignorance of what was going on. I 
 did not have an inkling of the trouble brew- 
 ing, the plot, the whispered conversations 
 along the "Rialto," the underhanded inter- 
 
 233 
 
views at the License Commissioner's office with 
 Miss Arthur, Mrs. Smith, Keating, Cullison, 
 Goodhart and others. All this time I was at- 
 tending to my own business without a suspicion 
 that others were planning and scheming to 
 wreck it. The first intimation I had of any- 
 thing wrong came in the shape of a letter from 
 the License Commissioner of which the fol- 
 lowing is a copy: 
 
 "New York, April 26th, 1906. 
 Mr. Jared Flagg: 
 
 Dear Sir. — The Commissioner of Licenses 
 directs me to inform you that an objection has 
 been lodged in this office against the issuance 
 of a license to you. 
 
 Mr. Lawrence G. Goodhart, as attorney for 
 the Woman's Rescue League, has entered the 
 objection and has asked for a hearing. The 
 Commissioner will hear his objection, and that 
 of any other person who may appear, on Satur- 
 day next, April 28th, 1906, at 10.30 o'clock 
 a. m., in his office, and asks that you be pres- 
 ent or represented. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 JOHN J. Cadwell, Secretary." 
 
 Even after reading this letter I did not 
 regard the matter as serious. I knew that I 
 
 234 
 
had done nothing out of the way and that no 
 client of mine could have just cause to com- 
 plain. I felt that it was some mistake, and that 
 the matter, whatever it might be, would adjust 
 itself. 
 
 This is what I saw in the office of the Com- 
 missioner of Licenses for the City of New 
 York, 277 Broadway, Borough of Manhattan, 
 to wit: — A large room and a long table, at one 
 end of which was a seat reserved for the Com- 
 missioner. A stenographer occupied a chair 
 to the left. A police officer showed me to a 
 chair at the left of the stenographer. To the 
 right of the Commissioner's chair was F. L. C. 
 Keating, formerly License Commissioner, but 
 now attorney for theTheatrical Agents' Society. 
 In the chair next to his, and directly opposite 
 to mine, was Lawrence G. Goodhart, attorney 
 for the alleged "Woman's Rescue League." 
 Then came Helen Arthur, attorney for the 
 Woman's Municipal League. Next to her 
 were several of her female cronies — not wit- 
 nesses, she could produce none. And at the far 
 end of the table a dozen or more newspaper re- 
 porters were seated. 
 
 In due course of time the "Honorable" John 
 N. Bogart, Commissioner of Licenses, who 
 was to act as the Judge, emerged from an ante- 
 
 235 
 
chamber, followed by Charlotte Smith, the 
 self-styled president of the alleged "National 
 and International Woman's Rescue League," 
 for which Lawyer Goodhart claimed to be 
 counsel. 
 
 The License Commissioner was solemn. 
 They were all solemn and well they might be. 
 They were about to deprive a fellow being of 
 his inalienable rights — the right to make an 
 honest living in his chosen vocation. But this 
 was not all, they were about to steal from him 
 his name. Whatever it was worth to him in 
 his business and in his relations with mankind, 
 they were about to take it from him ; not unin- 
 tentionally, but intentionally; knowing what 
 they were doing, knowing and not caring; 
 knowing that they were thieves, differing in no 
 respect from the commonest sneak-thief — un- 
 less it be that they lacked his courage. Gen- 
 erally when a thief is caught "red-handed," 
 with the goods on him, he owns up and takes 
 his "medicine like a major." But these long- 
 faced, sanctimonious Pharisees, when caught 
 in the act, tried to lie out of it, by pretending 
 they did not know what they were doing. 
 
 At that time I, knowing nothing about the 
 plot which had been hatched to ruin me, and 
 not for one moment supposing that the License 
 
 236 
 
Commissioner of this great city was a man de- 
 void of honor, attended the hearing without 
 being represented by counsel. Lawyer Good- 
 hart noticing this, asked with an air of self- 
 righteousness if he might address a few words 
 to the defendant. "It is only fair that the de- 
 fendant should be cautioned. Mr. Flagg is 
 not a lawyer and we do not wish to take undue 
 advantage of him. He should be told that any- 
 thing he may say at this hearing may hereafter 
 be used against him." 
 
 Think of a lawyer getting off a speech like 
 that, and in the next breath reading aloud the 
 lies contained in the letter of April 3d, 1906. 
 He knew, and everyone of them knew, that 
 they would be unable to substantiate the 
 charge that I had served a term in Auburn 
 Prison or in any other State's prison for the 
 crime of decoying young girls to houses of ill- 
 repute or for any other crime; but they were 
 cunning enough to know that such an accusa- 
 tion, in itself, would work an incalculable in- 
 jury to me. It was part of their plot to end my 
 career as a theatrical agent; the first move as 
 it were, and the moment it had been made, 
 every newspaper man at the far end of the table 
 recorded it. Then all eyes were turned on me. 
 
 237 
 
Considering I had never even seen Auburn 
 State's Prison I expressed a desire to see its 
 records. "Certainly," replied the Commis- 
 sioner; and then to preserve his dignity in the 
 eyes of the newspaper reporters he turned to 
 Lawyer Goodhart, and in a take-it-for-granted 
 kind of way said, "Counselor, show Mr. Flagg 
 your certified copy of the prison records." He 
 said it just as if he supposed Goodhart really 
 had such a copy, when he knew all the time, as 
 well as Goodhart knew, that no such certified 
 copy of the Auburn State's Prison records, im- 
 plicating me, existed. 
 
 Goodhart made some silly excuse, attribut- 
 ing his inability to procure the records to his 
 floating kidney which was causing him trouble. 
 This bit of side play between the two was ob- 
 viously for the purpose of deceiving the re- 
 porters, and incidentally conveying the idea 
 to the public that such a document in reality 
 existed. 
 
 "Give me three days and I will produce a 
 copy," said Mr. Goodhart. "Well, see that 
 you do," remarked the Commissioner, "or I 
 shall renew Mr. Flagg's license;" and an 
 adjournment of three days was then ordered 
 ostensibly for this purpose. 
 
 238 
 
A direct charge, if false, can usually be dis- 
 proved, but an indirect charge or an insinua- 
 tion, however groundless, is not always so easy 
 to overthrow. 
 
 The Smith woman, and the female lawyer, 
 Helen Arthur, it seems must have been aware 
 if this fact; for immediately after the sham 
 "hearing" had been temporarily adjourned 
 they unblushingly "buttonholed" the reporters, 
 and proceeded to look wise and throw out hints 
 — "It is intimated," they whispered, "that his 
 agency is being used for immoral purposes. 
 No! we have no evidence as yet, but we expect 
 to have. Both Mrs. Smith and myself," said 
 Helen Arthur, "are heartily in accord, and to- 
 gether we propose to ferret out and follow up 
 every clew." 
 
 The question was asked by the reporters, if 
 any complaints had been made against me. 
 "We do not like to say. No, we can give no 
 addresses or mention any names at present. It 
 would hardly be prudent to do so. Later we 
 may make a statement to the press. If you 
 mention my name, please note that I am at the 
 head of the 'Rescue Department of the Wo- 
 man's Municipal League,' " said Miss Arthur. 
 "And if my name is to be mentioned in the 
 
 239 
 
newspapers," said Mrs. Smith, the alleged 
 High Priestess of the fake, so-called "Woman's 
 Rescue League," "please note that I am the 
 President of the 'National and International 
 Woman's Rescue League' of New York, Lon- 
 don and Paris. No! we have no New York 
 office, No! we have no London office, No! we 
 have no Paris office; but we expect to have," 
 remarked Mrs. Smith, as she smilingly shook 
 hands with the Commissioner and reporters 
 before bidding them adieu. 
 
 When two such women, posing as reformers, 
 and thirsting for notoriety, free newspaper ad- 
 vertising, get their clutches on a dozen or more 
 "space writers," there is no computing the 
 damage they may do. 
 
 Now for a moment place yourself in my 
 position, and try to imagine what your sensa- 
 tions would have been the morning after 
 these female mischief makers had got in their 
 "fine work" on the reporters at this burlesque 
 "hearing" before the License Commissioner. 
 If with honor and integrity you had built up a 
 business from nothing to something; if for 
 six long years, winter and summer, you had 
 worked early and late; if you had dealt and 
 talked personally with thousands of people. 
 
 240 
 
ambitious, intelligent and worthy young 
 women and young men, all eager to "make 
 good" and advance in their profession; if you 
 had by square dealing gained their esteem; if 
 they not only returned year after year to do 
 business with you, but referred their friends 
 to you; if you were acquainted with many of 
 their parents and if these fathers and these 
 mothers also reposed confidence in you, if they 
 respected you, if they depended on your hon- 
 esty and your judgment to advise them with 
 which managers, in which companies, it would 
 be safe to entrust their sons and their daugh- 
 ters ; and if you also had in the profession many 
 acquaintances, playwrights of renown, actors 
 and actresses whose names are known over the 
 length and breadth of the land; and if you 
 were acquainted with many of the leading 
 stage directors, honorable men, who seemed 
 and who were anxious to aid you, anxious to 
 see you prosper in your business, men who did 
 not hesitate to endorse you, to recommend you, 
 and who would go out of their way to favor 
 you; if you had such business acquaintances, 
 and if you felt grateful, if you had failed in 
 previous undertakings, but could now see suc- 
 cess ahead; and if it made life seem worth 
 
 241 
 
living; if it seemed to you (as it did to me) 
 that you were accomplishing something in the 
 world, procuring honest employment for 
 thousands of honest persons ; and if this knowl- 
 edge were a satisfaction, if it were a greater 
 satisfaction to you even than the cash profits of 
 your business ; if you valued more highly than 
 money, the high regard in which you were 
 held by those with whom you had business 
 dealings ; in short, if you were at peace with 
 the world; if you had enemies, but were will- 
 ing to overlook and forget past differences, 
 willing to blame yourself instead of them; if 
 you had thought it all over and were willing 
 to let bygones be bygones, willing to forgive 
 everyone but yourself, feeling that there was, 
 that there is, in each man's life, sorrow and suf- 
 fering enough to disarm you of all hostility; if 
 this were how you felt ; and if you had friends, 
 not the fair-weather kind, the kind that are 
 afflicted with affected accents or with social 
 aspirations, and who quake in the knees at the 
 thought of appearing as witnesses in courts of 
 law or of getting their names in the news- 
 papers, not the moral cowards who value above 
 all other earthly possessions the superficial 
 courtesies extended to them by the members 
 
 242 
 
of their social set — I do not mean that kind — 
 but real friends, the kind that don't scare and 
 that will stand by, shoulder to shoulder with 
 you, "true as steel," when clouds are gathering 
 and when the future looks dark; if you had 
 such friends; and if you had relatives who felt 
 that you had disgraced the family name, 
 though not intentionally, and were therefore 
 staunch and true, uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces, 
 and nephews ; and if you had brothers, any one 
 of whom would share his last dollar with you, 
 brothers who would not permit any man or 
 any woman, not even an old friend of the 
 family, to malign you in their presence; if you 
 had such brothers, whom you loved and sisters 
 whom you loved, and a mother whom you 
 loved; how would you feel to have her, and 
 them, and all the others, some fine morning, 
 open the newspapers, not one paper, but all the 
 papers, and read that powerful societies — the 
 Theatrical Agents' Society and also Benev- 
 olent Woman's Leagues of high repute had in- 
 timated, INTIMATED, that your place of busi- 
 ness — your office — was not what it appeared to 
 be — a legitimate agency — but a "feeder" for 
 disorderly houses; how do you think you 
 would feel? How do you think I felt? 
 
 243 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Successful men frequently become so re- 
 spectable that they develop into hypocrites. 
 If they do anything out of the conventional it 
 is done on the sly. They must be careful. 
 People might talk. 
 
 Bogart, the License Commissioner, was 
 afraid people might talk, especially the news- 
 paper reporters; and this explains why he laid 
 so much stress on the three days' adjournment. 
 
 "I shall grant this adjournment," he said, 
 "for the purpose of giving us time to com- 
 municate with the warden, and if copies of 
 the prison records implicating Mr. Flagg are 
 not here in three days I shall issue a license to 
 him." These are his words copied from the 
 minutes, and they sounded all right to the re- 
 porters, but all wrong to me. Why should a 
 
 244 
 
person who had had TWENTY-FIVE days in 
 which to investigate a simple matter want 
 three days more? It was ridiculous. It was 
 a subterfuge, a trick on his part to create the 
 impression in the minds of the reporters that I 
 had in reality served such a term, and in 
 three days proof thereof would be forthcom- 
 ing. This was the impression that the news- 
 papers conveyed to the public. But the proof 
 did not come; and yet Mr. Bogart, despite his 
 promise to give me my license, in the absence 
 of such proof, did not do so. 
 
 What would you, the reader, say if you, in 
 place of me, had been accused of a crime and 
 brought before a judge and had told him you 
 were falsely accused? What would you say 
 if he had said to you, "All right, if I find that 
 you have been falsely accused I will see to it 
 that you are not punished, and in order to give 
 myself time to investigate, and discover if you 
 have been falsely accused, I shall lay your 
 case over for three days?" 
 
 That might seem straight, but at the expira- 
 tion of three days — the expiration — suppose 
 then you had asked his "Honor" if he had 
 made the investigation, what would you think 
 if he told you he had not; but that in the 
 
 245 
 
exercise of his discretion he had decided to 
 punish you anyway, with or without evidence, 
 what kind of a judge would you think you 
 were up against? Would you regard him as 
 an ornament to the Bench? 
 
 In substance this is what the "Honorable" 
 John N. Bogart said to me; and those who 
 heard him say it, and at the expiration of the 
 three days also heard him lie out of it, and 
 elect to punish me anyway, with or without 
 evidence, expressed the opinion that he was a 
 disgrace to the city that supported him. 
 
 Mr. Bogart sent for NO proof before order- 
 ing the charge to be made against me. He 
 sent for NO proof after ordering the charge 
 to be made against me. I hold a letter signed 
 by the warden of Auburn State's Prison 
 to the effect that NO person, barring myself, 
 before or after the charge was made in public 
 against me had, directly or indirectly, insti- 
 tuted any inquiries regarding the matter. 
 
 Was Mr. Bogart afraid to know the truth? 
 Were they all afraid to know the truth? Had 
 Mr. Bogart or any one of the others written 
 he would have received word from the war- 
 den that there was NO truth in the charge 
 which had been made against me. But did 
 
 246 
 
Mr. Bogart, or the others, have any earthly use 
 for such information? They were only inter- 
 ested in injuring me, and the injury was in- 
 flicted the moment the charge was made 
 against me in public. If the injury was not 
 inflicted why am I out of the threatrical busi- 
 ness? And why have I been out of it from 
 that moment? 
 
 The License Bureau is not conducted as it 
 should be. Dishonest rulings are the rule, and 
 my case was not one of the exceptions to the 
 rule. 
 
 The New York Evening Journal, under 
 date of November 5th, 1908, when comment- 
 ing on a preliminary report made to Mayor 
 McClellan by the Commissioners of Accounts, 
 stated that "the License Bureau of this city is 
 rotten to the core." It took them a long time 
 to find it out. I could have given them this 
 information three years ago. 
 
 No man should be placed in a position so 
 far above his fellow men that he is privileged 
 to summon a reputable citizen to appear be- 
 fore him, at a public hearing, for the purpose 
 of ruining that reputable citizen's business and 
 reputation. But Mr. Bogart has this preroga- 
 tive. He occupies a position so exalted that 
 
 247 
 
he is privileged to ignore all proof, all evi- 
 dence, however vital, and under the license 
 law he can, in the exercise of his discretion, 
 ruin a man's business and reputation without 
 rendering himself amenable to the law. This 
 is what he says and I guess he is right. 
 
 Before recording the events of my second 
 session with his Honor the Commissioner, the 
 reader should be informed of all that took 
 place during the three days' interval between 
 the first and second hearings. They were not 
 considerate enough to inform me, in advance, 
 but I shall inform the reader. 
 
 Having made this Auburn Prison charge 
 against me without an atom of evidence, they 
 decided that it might be as well before making 
 a second charge to manufacture a little evi- 
 dence. 
 
 In the License Bureau they have a young 
 lawyer named Henry N. Steinert. Mr. Stein- 
 ert says Mr. Bogart told him to go over to the 
 General Sessions Court and have a talk with 
 William Hanna. Mr. Hanna is first assistant 
 to Chief Clerk Edward R. Carroll of the said 
 court. Bogart won't tell what he told Stein- 
 ert to say to Hanna. Steinert won't tell what 
 he told Hanna to say to Carroll, and Hanna 
 
 248 
 
won't tell what he told Carroll to do, but as I 
 shall tell you what Carroll did do, you can 
 draw your own conclusions as to what was 
 said. 
 
 The Chief Clerk of the Court of General 
 Sessions of the City of New York has charge 
 of the official records of said court. The rec- 
 ords of my "flat trial" were in the custody of 
 this chief clerk, Edward R. Carroll. He held 
 the combination of the vault in which they 
 were kept. Bogart knew this and Bogart said 
 something to Steinert. Do not forget this fact. 
 Steinert said something to Hanna. Keep this 
 in mind also. And after Hanna had said 
 something to Carroll, Carroll entered the 
 vault, and "dug up" the records of my "flat 
 trial." 
 
 To prove an innocent person guilty in New 
 York City; that is, to legally prove a person 
 guilty of any certain count in an indictment, 
 who has been tried in a court of record, and 
 adjudged not guilty of the said certain count, 
 it is necessary to go through more or less "red 
 tape." 
 
 As previously stated, years ago I had been 
 adjudged not guilty by a duly impanelled 
 jury of my peers, of the charge of renting flats 
 
 249 
 
to be used for immoral purposes and of keep- 
 ing disorderly houses. The records of the 
 court in which I was tried show that I was 
 acquitted of the aforementioned charges t 
 Therefore to legally prove that I was not ac- 
 quitted of the aforementioned charges it was 
 essential not exactly to alter the minutes of 
 my trial, on file in said court, but simply to 
 have the chief clerk thereof draft a copy of 
 the said minutes with such little variations as 
 might be necessary to make it easy for his 
 "Honor" the License Commissioner to per- 
 suade himself that the verdict of my jury was 
 not what it purported to be. 
 This was done. 
 
 In the original court records the word "mis- 
 demeanor" appears. In the certified copy, 
 made at Bogart's request, the word "felony" 
 takes its place. 
 
 In the original the word "indicted" appears. 
 In the certified copy, made at Bogart's request, 
 the word "convicted" takes its place. 
 
 In the original the word "dismissed" ap- 
 pears. In the certified copy, made at Bogart's 
 request, the word "sentenced" takes its place. 
 
 When a sworn certified copy of the minutes 
 
 250 
 
of a trial carries with it the signature of the 
 chief clerk of the court in which the case was 
 tried, and also the official seal of the court, it 
 is usually regarded as "knock-down" evidence. 
 
 This doctored certificate which was to be 
 used as evidence against me, carried the seal 
 of the General Sessions Court. William Hanna 
 stamped it thereon. It also carried the signa- 
 ture of the chief clerk, Edward R. Carroll. 
 After Mr. Carroll had affixed his signature he 
 gave it to Lawyer Steinert of the License 
 Bureau, who carried it from the Criminal 
 Courts Building to the license office and gave 
 it to Commissioner Bogart. Can you arrive at 
 a conclusion now as to what Bogart said to 
 Steinert and what Steinert said to Hanna, and 
 what Hanna said to Carroll? 
 
 A man may have knowledge and experience 
 and still be a fool. I was fool enough (at the 
 expiration of the three days' adjournment) to 
 go again down to the license office without 
 taking a lawyer with me. What was the use 
 of retaining a lawyer to prove that I had not 
 served a term in Auburn State's Prison when 
 all the lawyers in the land could not prove I 
 had ever seen the outside or the inside of its 
 
 251 
 
walls? Knowing nothing of what had taken 
 place during the three days' interval, this was 
 how I reasoned, so in I walked and there they 
 were, the same old crowd: Charlotte Smith 
 with her white kid gloves ; Lawyer Goodhart 
 with his two pairs of spectacles on his nose, he 
 was there; Bogart, the "Honorable," he was 
 there; ex-License Commissioner F. L. C. 
 Keating, he was there also, notwithstanding 
 that the Theatrical Agents' Society, which he 
 was supposed to represent, had notified the 
 press, the License Commissioner and myself, 
 that it had no complaints to make against me. 
 
 The following is a copy of the letter I re- 
 ceived from the Agents' Society, and in sub- 
 stance Bogart and the press received similar 
 letters : 
 
 "Jared Flagg, Esq. : 
 
 "Dear Sir. — Our association has made no 
 charges against you, nor are any pending. 
 
 "(signed) JAMES J. ARMSTRONG, 
 "President Theatrical Association, 
 "1431 and 1433 Broadway, N. Y. City." 
 
 Helen Arthur also sent a letter of which the 
 following is a copy: — 
 
 252 
 
"License Commissioner of the City of New 
 York: 
 
 "Dear Sir. — As we have no complaints to 
 make against Jared Flagg we hereby petition 
 you to issue a theatrical agent's license to 
 him. . . . 
 
 "Helen Arthur, 
 "Woman's Municipal League, 
 "19 East Twenty-sixth Street, N. Y. City." 
 
 Miss Arthur was not present at this second 
 hearing, but the reporters, they were all there, 
 and when I glanced down at their end of the 
 table they nodded politely. This was a bad 
 omen, and I commenced to feel uncomfort- 
 able. Could it be possible that they were go- 
 ing to spring something new on me? Some 
 other bogus charge? This thought flashed 
 through my mind; and I opened the meeting 
 without being asked to do so, by requesting the 
 Commissioner to produce the Auburn Prison 
 record, the one said to implicate me, and 
 which Lawyer Goodhart had agreed at the 
 previous hearing to present at this hearing; 
 but, barring myself, no one would allude to 
 Auburn State's Prison. 
 
 The Commissioner, whom I was addressing, 
 
 253 
 
ignored me entirely, but called Lawyer Good- 
 hart aside, and in a confidential manner and 
 low tone of voice (too low for the reporters to 
 hear but not so low that I was unable to hear) 
 said to him, "You take this document and pre- 
 sent it before me at the hearing." 
 
 Goodhart took it, and it was the bogus certi- 
 fied copy of the record of my "flat trial," which 
 had been made at Bogart's request, and which 
 Carroll had signed. First Goodhart, standing 
 by a window, away from all of us, read it to 
 himself. He then came over to the table, and, 
 while standing, read the imposing legal docu- 
 ment impressively to the Commissioner just 
 as if it was something the Commissioner had 
 never seen or heard of. 
 
 Goodhart then walked over to where the re- 
 porters were seated; showed the document to 
 them; and they scrutinized it intently and 
 copied certain portions of it. It was then 
 taken to the other end of the long table and 
 given to the License Commissioner. I occu- 
 pied the second chair to the left of the Com- 
 missioner and he passed the document over to 
 me for inspection. If ever I inspected a paper 
 it was that one. Out of common politeness, 
 under ordinary circumstances, I would not 
 
 254 
 
have kept a room full of people waiting; but 
 here was a case in which I proposed to take 
 my time, and with care and deliberation I 
 read every word. 
 
 Little did I dream, at that time, of the dia- 
 bolical plot which was being perpetrated 
 against me. The document had every appear- 
 ance of being authentic. After having read it 
 twice over, once more I looked at the words 
 "felony," "convicted," "sentenced." Could I 
 believe my own eyes? Was I worse than I 
 thought I was? Was I guilty, when for years 
 I had prided myself on being innocent? And 
 again I looked, I looked at the gilt seal which 
 was as large as a small sized buckwheat cake. 
 I had nothing to say. We seldom regret hav- 
 ing said too little. We frequently feel like 
 kicking ourselves for having said too much. I 
 could have said a few things, but decided to 
 make no comment, simply to ask for an ad- 
 journment. Goodhart, at the first hearing, 
 had asked for an adjournment of three days 
 which was granted without question. Now I 
 asked for a like adjournment, but instantly 
 there was a storm of protest. "If not three, 
 make it one. Give me a day to investigate this 
 matter," I said to the License Commissioner. 
 
 255 
 
"It means much to me; it means everything. 
 If true, you can act on it to-morrow;" and I 
 explained that one day could make no serious 
 difference. He made no reply. Lawyers 
 Goodhart and Keating seeing that he hesitated 
 took him aside and whispered to him. It was 
 the order of the day to take the Judge aside and 
 whisper to him. They "do things differently" 
 in the License Commissioner's office from the 
 way they do them in a court of law. As 
 Bogart himself said at my third hearing, "You 
 might have that right in a court of law, but 
 we do things differently here." The whispered 
 conversation evidently produced the desired 
 effect, for when his "Honor" returned to his 
 seat his mind was made up and he was ob- 
 durate. He would not listen to an adjourn- 
 ment of even one day. "Give me two or three 
 hours, then," I said. "Let me rush over to the 
 Court of General Sessions and I will be back 
 with some word or someone who will explain 
 that this certificate is not a true copy of the 
 records." But no, he would not delay a mo- 
 ment; and with the fraudulent alleged certi- 
 fied copy of the court records (held high 
 above his head), in which the word "felony" 
 had been substituted for the word "misde- 
 
 256 
 
meanor;" and the word "convicted" substi- 
 tuted for the word "indicted;" and the word 
 "sentenced" substituted for the word "dis- 
 missed;" he, the so-called "Honorable" John 
 N. Bogart, who had given himself and the 
 others an adjournment of three days, and had 
 peremptorily refused to grant me an adjourn- 
 ment of three hours, ruled as follows (copied 
 from the official minutes) : 
 
 By the License Commissioner: — 
 "I am going to save a lot of time. I accept 
 this document as being a true statement that 
 Jared Flagg was convicted of keeping a dis- 
 orderly house and fined and imprisoned. I 
 am going to rule that anyone convicted of 
 keeping a disorderly house is not entitled to 
 an agency license." Then turning to me he 
 said, "Your application for a renewal of your 
 license is DENIED." 
 
 This settled it, and the Commissioner and 
 the others, including the reporters, hurried 
 from the room. All left with the exception of 
 the policeman and myself. I didn't move. 
 For the moment I was staggered. I wanted 
 to think a little. Was it true? Could it be 
 true? But true or false my life had been 
 blasted. This much at that time I knew. Now 
 
 257 
 
in the eyes of the public I was a real felon. In 
 the eyes of the public I was no longer a citizen 
 of the United States ; no longer had the right 
 to vote; no longer had the right to walk the 
 streets of the city; could no longer hold my 
 head erect and look decent people in the face ; 
 mortified, chagrined, humiliated, my name 
 vilified, my reputation gone, my business 
 ruined. Legally branded an outcast. Ostra- 
 cised, banished, and subjected to the ridicule, 
 scorn and hatred of my fellow citizens; the 
 convicted keeper of a bawdy house, a disgrace 
 to my family, to the community, and to my- 
 self. This would be the verdict of the people. 
 Under the circumstances it would be impos- 
 sible for them to reach any other decision, and 
 despite anything I could say or do, thousands 
 would condemn me; thousands would believe 
 the forged document to be true; thousands 
 would read the newspapers, and every daily 
 newspaper in the city — English, German, 
 French, Italian, Spanish and Hebrew would, 
 and DID, PROCLAIM IT AS TRUE, BROADCAST TO 
 THE WORLD. 
 
 258 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AFTER the horse had been stolen, the barn 
 door was kept locked. After my license had 
 been stolen I retained a lawyer, H. D. Milde- 
 berger, Esq., and it did not take him long to 
 discover that a forgery had been committed. 
 
 Suits were brought against Edward R. 
 Carroll, Chief Clerk of the Court of General 
 Sessions, and also against his assistant, Wil- 
 liam Hanna. These suits, four in all, twenty- 
 five thousand dollars each, are still pending. 
 Two for damages and two for libel. The 
 libel suits are of such a character as to be libel- 
 ous per se; that is, judgment may be recovered 
 without being called upon to show actual 
 money loss. 
 
 The License Commissioner after illegally 
 depriving me of my license, which is the same 
 thing as stealing it from me, probably thought 
 
 259 
 
that that would be the last he would hear ot 
 the matter. But when it was made clear to 
 me that the document on which he had denied 
 my application for a renewal license was a 
 forgery, I called and asked him to annul his 
 decision. This he refused to do, whereupon 
 my lawyer appealed to the Corporation Coun- 
 sel of the City of New York. It is this offi- 
 cial's duty, among other things, to defend the 
 License Commissioner in matters relating to 
 the conduct of his office. My particular mat- 
 ter was placed in charge of Assistant Corpora- 
 tion Counsel Charles O'Neil, and Mr. 
 O'Neil, after investigating, advised Commis- 
 sioner Bogart to retract. But as time rolled 
 by, and as no retraction seemed to be forth- 
 coming, I instructed my attorney to carry the 
 case to the Appellate Division of the Supreme 
 Court. This move on our part made Mr. Bo- 
 gart sit up and take notice. If he allowed my 
 case to reach this court, his entire doings under 
 the law would have to be reviewed by the Ap- 
 pellate Division judges, and what would 
 they have to say about the forged certificate, 
 the perjured testimony and the illegal and 
 biased rulings of the License Commissioner? 
 If anyone knew, Bogart knew, that in the 
 
 260 
 
Appellate Division of the Supreme Court 
 they "did things differently;" that is, differ- 
 ently from the manner in which he "did 
 things." It was he, as previously stated, who 
 had told us so. His exact words, copied from 
 the minutes, read: "You might have that 
 right in a court of law, but we do things dif- 
 ferently here." By "we" he meant him- 
 self, and by 'here" he meant the License 
 Bureau. And now my case was going to a dif- 
 ferent tribunal. It was on the calendar of the 
 Appellate Division of the Supreme Court, and 
 Bogart, judging from his frantic efforts, was 
 more than anxious to have it taken off this cal- 
 endar and brought back to him, where it could 
 and would, according to his own words, be 
 dealt with differently. Unquestionably he 
 knew that if the case should be reviewed by 
 this high court it would go hard with him, 
 whereas he wanted it to go hard with me. And 
 in order that it might go hard with me and that 
 I might again be placed at his mercy; and in 
 order that it might not go hard with him and 
 that his crooked acts might not be passed upon 
 by the judges of the Appellate Division of the 
 Supreme Court, he finally accepted the advice 
 of the Assistant Corporation Counsel, Charles 
 
 261 
 
O'Neil, and owned up to the truth and sent me 
 a letter of which the following is a copy : — 
 
 "New York, July 7, 1906. 
 Mr. Jared Flagg: 
 
 Dear Sir. — I hereby notify you that the de- 
 termination reached by me on May 2, 1906, 
 whereby your application for a license to keep 
 a theatrical agency was denied, has been an- 
 nulled by me, on the ground that it appears 
 that the record of the Court of General Ses- 
 sions offered in evidence, relative to your trial 
 in that court, was erroneously certified by the 
 clerk thereof. 
 
 You are hereby notified that a hearing upon 
 your application will be held on the 23d day 
 of July, 1906, at 2.30 p. m., at this office. 
 Respectfully yours, 
 (Signed) JOHN N. BOGART, 
 Commissioner of Licenses. 
 
 At first he had refused, but he was "annul- 
 ling" all right now. 
 
 With the aid of Webster's Dictionary, I 
 discovered that "erroneously" meant falsely; 
 and in making his confession, he should have 
 used this word, but I suppose he liked the 
 sound of the other one better. 
 
 262 
 
An erroneous document is a false document; 
 and this one, solitary, false document, al- 
 though in no manner, even remotely, related 
 to my theatrical business, was the only evi- 
 dence used against me. THIS IS THE POINT I 
 WANT TO MAKE CLEAR. No other evidence was 
 submitted. No witness, no client, no person 
 in any way connected with my agency office, 
 or the theatrical profession, appeared before 
 the License Commissioner to testify against 
 me. And it was solely on this ONE false docu- 
 ment, which had nothing to do with the the- 
 atrical business, which referred only to my 
 "Flat" trial of years ago, 1896, that my ap- 
 plication, made ten years later, 1906, for a the- 
 atrical agent's license, was denied. Therefore, 
 the fact that Commissioner Bogart now, in 
 writing and over his own signature, admits 
 that the document was "erroneously certified," 
 is equivalent to admitting that I lost my busi- 
 ness, its good will, my good name, the esteem 
 of my customers, the confidence of their par- 
 ents, the respect of the community at large, and 
 all else, on a FALSE DOCUMENT. 
 
 Barring Bogart, Goodhart, Keating, Mc- 
 Conville, Weeks, Donohue, Price and a few 
 others, it is problematical as to whether any 
 
 263 
 
person would say that it was right to take the 
 bread and butter out of my mouth on such a 
 document — perjury, forgery and certified lies; 
 but it was done to me just the same. There 
 are those in this world who might, if sub- 
 jected to such an injustice, lose heart and 
 want to lie down and die. But not I. Die? 
 Never! I have too much to do, am too busy 
 trying to regain the esteem of my fellow be- 
 ings to shuffle off this mortal coil without first 
 compelling those who have so unjustly ma- 
 ligned me to acknowledge the error of their 
 ways. 
 
 More than once, and by more than one, I 
 have been treated like a dog; not that I mer- 
 ited it, but because, since the days of the 
 "Flagg Flats" an impression has prevailed 
 that that is the proper way to treat me. Some 
 persons are awfully proper. It does not take 
 much to shock them, and this may explain 
 why most of the little ups and downs of my 
 life date from those days. Up to that time 
 the going was tolerably smooth, and had I 
 then, when first approached by the police, 
 paid tribute to them, in the shape of "blood 
 money," I should not now be talking about 
 " fake hearings" and "erroneously certified" 
 
 264 
 
legal documents. This is another point I 
 want to make CLEAR AND EMPHATIC. Had I, 
 years ago, knuckled under to the police, not 
 one word reflecting on the ethics of my ten- 
 ants, or on my own morality, would ever have 
 been heard. There would have been no 
 scurrilous newspaper articles alluding to them 
 or myself, published. I should have occupied 
 a position above reproach. I should have 
 been rich. Even if I had given the police 
 every dollar of the net profits accruing from 
 my furnished flats, the advance in the real 
 property located in the heart of New York 
 City and held by me fifteen years ago has been 
 so great that it would in itself have made me 
 financially independent of the world. At a 
 low estimate this advance in value would have 
 exceeded half a million of dollars. 
 
 If money covers a multitude of sins, consid- 
 ering that I am not half as bad as I have been 
 painted, do you not suppose that with such a 
 fortune I could have covered all my sins? 
 Why, there is no question about it. I should 
 have been regarded as a paragon of virtue. 
 Nothing would have been too good for me. I 
 should have been courted and esteemed; 
 whereas now I do not see as I am being 
 
 265 
 
courted, and I doubt if I would be considered 
 eligible even to the "Four Hundred." 
 
 This is what a man sometimes gets for 
 standing out on a principle; but I did it, and 
 a volley of unprintable oaths and the clinched 
 fist of a police captain, in full dress parade 
 uniform, shaken in front of my nose, could not 
 make me swerve from my principle. No 
 "third degree," no threat, even when I saw 
 dire ruin staring me in the face, could move 
 me. But men have been moved by threats less 
 aggravating. New York is full of blackmail- 
 ers of all kinds; and many persons, posing as 
 respectable, have yielded to their demands and 
 paid "hush-money," and sacrificed self-respect 
 that they might retain the respect of others. 
 No person can, however, truthfully say that I 
 ever debauched my honor for the sake of social 
 or financial gain. And it was because Mr. 
 Bogart knew I was no hypocrite and had 
 nothing to cover up that he did not wish the 
 judges of the Appellate Division of the Su- 
 preme Court to hear my story. To prevent me 
 from telling it, he not only, as previously 
 stated, owned up to the truth, but in the con- 
 cluding paragraph of his confessing letter, 
 ordered me to appear before him for a re- 
 
 266 
 
hearing. This was not to my liking. I had 
 had all the hearings I wanted, and to restrain 
 him from holding any more in my case, served 
 him with a temporary injunction. It was at 
 this particular juncture that his "Royal High- 
 ness" did some tall prevaricating. He had 
 ordered me to come back for a re-hearing, but 
 instead of coming I had "clapped" a tempo- 
 rary injunction on him which acted as a re- 
 strainer; put an end to any further hearings in 
 my case until such time as he could have the 
 injunction vacated. The uncertainty as to 
 whether it ever could be vacated riled him, and 
 although I do not wish it understood that he so 
 far forgot himself as to raise his right hand 
 and swear before Almighty God to a lie, I do 
 want it known that he affixed his signature to 
 several lies. John N. Bogart is not a man to 
 commit perjury; that would be against his 
 principles; he knows the penalty; but, place 
 him in a compromising position and he will 
 not scruple to affix his signature to a lie as is 
 shown in his Return (which means his de- 
 fense) to the Writ of Certiorari which I had 
 brought against him and which was at the time 
 pending before the Appellate Division of the 
 Supreme Court. In this Return, which was 
 
 267 
 
to be read by the Judges of the Appellate Divi- 
 sion he said that the Theatrical Agents' Soci- 
 ety, as a Society, and the Woman's Municipal 
 League, as a League, and also the Woman's 
 Rescue League, as a League, had appeared be- 
 fore him as complainants against me. His 
 exact words copied from the court records 
 were as follows : 
 
 "Lawrence G. Goodhart, 21 Park Row, 
 appears for the Woman's Rescue League. 
 
 "The Theatrical Agents' Society appears by 
 Frederick L. C. Keating, of 38 Park Row. 
 
 "The Woman's Municipal League appears 
 by Miss Helen Arthur, of 277 Broadway." 
 
 On June 13th, 1906, he tells the Judges of 
 the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court 
 that the Theatrical Agents' Society appeared 
 before him on April 28, 1906. (The word 
 "appeared," when used in this legal sense, 
 means put in an appearance; it means the 
 Theatrical Agents' Society, as a body, and as 
 complainants, put in an appearance against 
 me.) Mr. Bogart knew that was not true. On 
 April 28th, 1906, a month and a half before he 
 affixed his signature to this false statement, 
 when the question, at my first hearing, was 
 asked Lawyer Keating (and Bogart himself 
 
 268 
 
was the one who asked the question) , "Do you 
 appear here for the Theatrical Agents' So- 
 ciety?" Mr. Keating's answer (and I am 
 quoting from the minutes) was as follows: — 
 "No, your Honor, the Theatrical Agents' So- 
 ciety does not appear against Mr. Flagg. I 
 am simply here as a spectator and to see that 
 Mr. Flagg, who is a theatrical agent, receives 
 a square deal." 
 
 To this answer, as is shown by the minutes, 
 Commissioner Bogart remarked: — "Mr. 
 Flagg seems competent to look after his own 
 affairs." 
 
 The very next day, April 29th, 1906, in 
 response to a letter from me to it, the Theatri- 
 cal Agents' Society notified Commissioner 
 Bogart, in writing, that it had not appeared 
 against me. Furthermore, I, personally, 
 showed Mr. Bogart a letter I held, and still 
 hold, signed by the President of the said So- 
 ciety, J. J. Armstrong, to the effect that it had 
 lodged no complaint against me and had no 
 complaint to make. But, despite all this proof, 
 a month and a half later, June 13th, 1906, and 
 over his own signature, Mr. Bogart informed 
 the Judges of the Appellate Division of the 
 Supreme Court that the Theatrical Agents' 
 
 269 
 
Society HAD appeared before him, on April 
 28th, 1906, and was there and then represented 
 by Lawyer Frederick L. C. Keating. He 
 wouldn't swear to it; Bogart wouldn't commit 
 perjury; that would be against his principles; 
 he knows the penalty; but he would and did 
 affix his signature to this LIE. 
 
 When in the same so-called Return to the 
 same Writ he informed the same Appellate 
 Division judges that the Woman's Municipal 
 League had appeared before him and was rep- 
 resented by Miss Helen Arthur, he knew that 
 this was not so. He had asked Miss Arthur, 
 as a special favor to him, to be present at my 
 hearing, "with or without a complaint," and 
 simply to accommodate him she was present 
 without a complaint. When Mr. Bogart 
 asked her if the Woman's Municipal League 
 had any charges to make against me she re- 
 plied (and I am quoting from the minutes), 
 "We have no complaint." Later she not only 
 put this in writing (that she had no com- 
 plaint), but requested the Commissioner to 
 grant me a license. I, furthermore, showed 
 Mr. Bogart a letter, which I held and still 
 hold, signed by the Woman's Municipal 
 League, to this same effect. And yet despite 
 
 270 
 
all this proof he notified the Judges of the 
 Appellate Division of the Supreme Court, a 
 month and a half thereafter, June 13th, 1906, 
 that the Woman's Municipal League HAD ap- 
 peared before him at my first hearing, April 
 28th, 1906, and was there and then represented 
 by Miss Helen Arthur. He wouldn't swear to 
 it; Bogart wouldn't commit perjury; that 
 would be against his principles; he knows the 
 penalty; but he would and did affix his signa- 
 ture to this LIE. 
 
 When also he made the statement in the 
 same Return to the same Writ and to the same 
 judges, that the Woman's Rescue League had 
 appeared and was represented by Lawrence G. 
 Goodhart, he knew it was false, and I will ex- 
 plain why he knew it. When my lawyer was 
 cross-questioning Charlotte Smith regarding 
 her fake "League," and she was becoming 
 hopelessly entangled and her lawyer was ob- 
 jecting and the License Commissioner was sus- 
 taining his objections, he, Bogart, made the 
 following remark to my lawyer (copied from 
 the minutes), "Mr. Mildeberger, you might 
 have that right in a court of law, but we do 
 things differently here, and I shall not allow 
 any questions regarding this League" (mean- 
 
 271 
 
ing the fake "Woman's Rescue League") , "be 
 cause according to the statement of the attor- 
 ney who represents this witness" (meaning 
 Charlotte Smith) "no such League appears 
 here or is represented before me." This, as 
 per the official minutes, is what he said to my 
 lawyer. "No such League appears here or is 
 represented before me." But, as per the offi- 
 cial Court Records, he tells the judges of the 
 Appellate Division that such a League HAD 
 appeared before him, at my first hearing. 
 April 28th, 1906, and was then and there rep- 
 resented by Lawyer Lawrence G. Goodhart. 
 He wouldn't swear to it ; Bogart wouldn't com- 
 mit perjury; that would be against his prin- 
 ciples; he knows the penalty; but he would 
 and did affix his signature to this LIE. 
 
 He prepared, signed and filed with the Ap- 
 pellate Division these and other false state- 
 ments so that in case he had to appear before 
 this court he seemingly would have some 
 ground of defense to my writ. But in the 
 meantime he was putting forth every effort to 
 have the injunction vacated which I had se- 
 cured against him and which restrained him 
 from holding further hearings in my case. 
 And after many delays and a bitter legal fight, 
 
 272 
 
Justice V. J. Dowling ordered the injunction 
 vacated; so after all I was obliged to return 
 and appear again before his "Honor," the 
 License Commissioner. 
 
 Every time I think of this return-hearing I 
 experience a touch of sea-sickness. Not that 
 I actually disgorge, but the symptoms are all 
 there. Talk, talk, talk, quibbling all the time, 
 first one lawyer and then another, over matters 
 wholly irrelevant, and making no progress. 
 
 To appeal a case the testimony for and 
 against the defendant must, at the defendant's 
 expense, be printed and bound in pamphlet 
 form before it can be submitted to a higher 
 court. In this case I was the defendant, and in 
 the event of an appeal each word spoken would 
 cost me just so much money to have it printed. 
 Therefore, to check this needless flow of ex- 
 pensive words at my subsequent hearings, I 
 determined to eliminate Lawyers Keating and 
 Goodhart; and with this end in view I notified 
 them that if they took any further part, ever 
 again, at any of my hearings before the Com- 
 missioner, I would bring them up before the 
 Lawyers' Grievance Committee and give them 
 an opportunity to show cause why they should 
 not be disbarred as co-conspirators in the plot 
 
 273 
 
to deprive me of my license. This notification, 
 which was duly drawn up in writing after I 
 had had a talk with Assistant District Attor- 
 ney Marshall, must have almost frightened the 
 life out of these two "legal lights," for they 
 dropped Bogart like a "hot potato," and from 
 that day till this I have not laid eyes on either 
 one of them. 
 
 Tell a crooked lawyer engaged in a crooked 
 case to quit or you will move to have him 
 disbarred, and he will quit every time and quit 
 in a hurry. But with the "Honorable" John 
 
 N. B it was different. He couldn't quit. 
 
 The conspirators (certain theatrical agents 
 and others previously named) had influence 
 with certain political bosses, and Bogart may 
 have received orders from someone higher up, 
 possibly a "Tammany ward heeler"; and his 
 salary, one hundred dollars a week, for all I 
 know, may have been at stake; so he had to 
 keep the hearings going, and at the progress he 
 was making it would have taken him a year or 
 more to complete the job. He seemed pur- 
 posely to retard us. It was not, he said, so 
 much a question of virtue at the present time. 
 He admitted that I might now be a moral man 
 and might have lived a moral life during all 
 the years in which I had been engaged in the 
 
 274 
 
theatrical business; but the question he wished 
 to determine, even if it took a year, was, had I 
 always lived such a life? In his opinion any 
 man who, at any period, had been guilty of 
 "sowing wild oats" was not a fit person to be a 
 theatrical agent. You have no idea, unless you 
 have been one yourself, what an exemplary lot 
 they, the theatrical agents of this city, are. 
 And so the tiresome, silly, make-believe hear- 
 ings, month after month, dragged on; and the 
 money I had saved was melting as money only 
 can melt when everything is going out and 
 nothing coming in. It was when things were 
 in this precarious condition that I ran up 
 against a snag, the worst I had struck, a letter 
 written by my brother Ernest and which reads 
 as follows: 
 
 "If I were you I would waste no more time or 
 money in trying to procure a license. It is not 
 worth it, and I wish you would cut loose from 
 this whole unsavory mess and turn your attention 
 to something that has a future and is worthy of 
 you and your bringing up. I am sure if you look 
 around you will find a profitable opening in some 
 direction. You may think your past record a 
 handicap, but I doubt if it will prove as much of 
 a one as you imagine. If you will take my 
 advice, I will stand behind you and will show 
 my confidence by not limiting you in time or 
 amount. When you want money ask for it and 
 I will send it to you." 
 
 275 
 
Before I had half finished reading this 
 letter my arms dropped. Here was where I 
 couldn't fight. I knew he did not realize 
 what he was asking me to do, but that did 
 not help matters. He was my brother, and 
 it is different when it's your brother. 
 
 Engrossed in vast enterprises involving 
 millions of dollars and the employment of 
 thousands of men, he had had no time to look 
 into my affairs which, in comparison with his 
 own, were picayune. He only knew that I had 
 been dealing with theatrical people, and had 
 not made a fortune. And on general princi- 
 ples, without being familiar with the thou- 
 sand and one circumstances surrounding the 
 case, he had, out of the kindness of his heart, 
 written the aforementioned letter to me. Had 
 it come from another I would have thanked 
 that other for his advice and offer, but would 
 have declined both and continued the struggle. 
 I would have gone down to my grave fighting 
 rather than have let up on the scoundrels who 
 had swindled me out of my license. 
 
 Lawyer Mildeberger, all my lawyers, Will- 
 iam Marshall, Assistant District-Attorney, 
 and everyone familiar with the attendant con- 
 ditions said it had been withheld from me ille- 
 
 276 
 
gaily; and I was terribly anxious that this 
 fact should be known. If I could have said, 
 if I could have advertised, in the theatrical 
 and daily papers that the license had been 
 granted, that it was once more hanging in its 
 frame over my desk, in the same old place, it 
 would have been a vindication, and this was 
 all I wanted — my name. 
 
 The eyes of the theatrical world were upon 
 me. It should be remembered that I was 
 known, known clear across the continent, 
 wherever spectacular and light opera com- 
 panies are booked. Thousands were waiting 
 and watching and wondering whether I would 
 win or lose. The withholding or the granting 
 of that little piece of printed paper, to me, 
 meant everything. It could give to or it could 
 take from me what money could not buy. In 
 the estimation of all these people — thousands 
 of people — it meant one thing or the other, 
 an upright man or a degenerate. What then 
 would the inference be if I allowed the matter 
 to go by default? 
 
 Not only the theatrical papers published in 
 New York, but in other large cities, had an- 
 nounced to their readers that the fight was 
 on. What reason could I give if I now 
 
 277 
 
"threw up the sponge," and what reason 
 would they, the editors of these papers, as- 
 sign? Aside from the operatic managers and 
 theatrical agents and general public I had a 
 clientele of over seven thousand young 
 women, and the man does not live who can 
 afford to ignore the opinion of seven thou- 
 sand of his fellow beings. On the other hand, 
 the man does not live who can afford to tell 
 his brother to "go to the devil!" If I had 
 ignored my brother's letter, what would have 
 been the result? It is true I could have ex- 
 plained matters; and had I done so he would, 
 without waiting to hear details, have said, 
 "If that is how you feel, why, of course, fight 
 the thing to a finish." I am well enough 
 acquainted with him to know that that is just 
 what he would have said; but — there would 
 have been a but. He advised, I refused; he 
 listened, I explained; and it was all right — 
 but (here is where the but comes in) it would 
 be all wrong. There would have been that 
 feeling, the feeling that time, years of time, 
 alone can obliterate. I didn't want any of it; 
 and with the full knowledge that I should 
 be misrepresented by the Press (and I was), 
 and misjudged by the people (and I was), I 
 
 278 
 
decided to abandon the contest and relinquish 
 all hope of ever again becoming a theatrical 
 agent. 
 
 "Blood is thicker than water," and between 
 the multitude and the one, I decided. 
 
 There is some hope for a man who can 
 decide wrongly. A day may come when he 
 will decide rightly. But a man who can 
 never decide, who always wants to think it 
 over and winds up by asking some other per- 
 son to decide for him, for him there is no 
 hope. 
 
 Without a quibble, an explanation, or an 
 interview, just as if it were a matter of small 
 moment to me, just as if it were easy to dis- 
 regard the verdict of those who had formerly 
 respected me, I requested my lawyer to notify 
 Commissioner Bogart that I would withdraw 
 my application for a license. In reply to this 
 notification we received a letter of which the 
 following is a copy: 
 
 "New York, February 6, 1907. 
 "H. D. MlLDEBERGER, Esq., 
 "Attorney-at-Law, 
 "Dear Sir. — Your communication, as Attor- 
 ney for Jared Flagg, notifying me that he 
 
 279 
 
wished to withdraw his application for a 
 license has been received, accepted and filed. 
 
 "Yours truly, 
 (Signed) "John N. BOGART, 
 
 "Commissioner of Licenses." 
 
 The day this letter acknowledging the ac- 
 ceptance of the withdrawal of my applica- 
 tion for a license was received it was for- 
 warded to my brother Ernest, and the follow- 
 ing day he wrote me "I am sure you have 
 made a wise decision." 
 
 So there you are. That's the whole story. 
 And mark you this story, word for word, was 
 published over a year ago. Not only pub- 
 lished but read by those herein denounced. 
 Marked copies of the first edition, as stated in 
 the preface of this edition, were sent to them 
 ALL with my compliments. Were it not there- 
 fore, from the beginning to the end, a TRUE 
 story, do you suppose I would now be going 
 about loose accepting the congratulations of 
 my friends? — Hardly — I would be in jail and 
 the charge against me would be 
 
 CRIMINAL LIBEL 
 
 280