•far******** ********** 
 
 Illustrated 
 
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 http://archive.org/details/newyorkbysunligh00mcca_1 
 
iEx ICtbrtB 
 
 SEYMOUR DURST 
 
 When you leave, please leave this hook 
 
 Because it has heen said 
 "Ever'thing comes t' him who waits 
 
 Eyccept a loaned hook." 
 
 Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library 
 Gift of Seymour B. Durst Old York Library ' 
 
f 
 
 \ 
 
NEW YORK 
 
 nr 
 
 Sunlight and Gaslight. 
 
 A WORK DESCRIPTIVE OF THE 
 
 GREAT AMERICAN METROPOLIS. 
 
 m HIGH AND LOW LIFE; ITS SPLENDORS AND MISERIES; ITS VIRTUEi 
 AND VICES; ITS GORGEOUS PALACES AND DARK HOMES OF 
 POVERTY AND CRIME; ITS PUBLIC MEN, POLITI- 
 CIANS, ADVENTURERS ; ITS CHARITIES, 
 FRAUDS, MYSTERIES, ETC., ETC. 
 
 BY JAMES D. McCABE, 
 
 m nmuik of "paris by sunlight and gaslight," "pictorial history of THK WORLO," 
 
 "CBNTBNNIAL HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES," "CROSS AND CROWN," ETC 
 
 flLLUSTRATED WITH FINE FULL-PAGE AND OTHER ENGRAVINGa 
 
 UNION PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 New York City. 
 
Copyiigl^bjr 
 DOUGLASS BROTHSaS. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 What Paris is to the Frenchman, or London to the Briton, NeV 
 York is to the American. It is not only the Great Metropolis of 
 the New World, but it is the chief attraction upon this continent, 
 the great centre to which our people resort for business and plea- 
 sure, and as such, is a source of never-failing interest. 
 
 This being the case, it is natural that every American should de- 
 sire to visit New York, to see the city for himself, behold its beau- 
 ties, its wonderful sights, and participate in the pleasures which are 
 to be enjoyed only in the Metropolis. Thousands avail themselves 
 of this privilege every year ; but the great mass of our people kno^r 
 our chief city only by the descriptions of their friends, and the brief 
 accounts of its sights and scenes which occur from time to time in 
 'the newspapers of the day. Even those who visit the city bring 
 away but a superficial knowledge of it, as to knoiv New York re- 
 quires years of constant study and investigation. Strangers see only 
 the surface ; they cannot penetrate into its inner life, and examine 
 the countless influences at work every day in shaping the destiny 
 of the beautiful city. Few, even of the residents of the Metropolis, 
 have either the time or the means for such investigations. Few 
 have a correct idea of the terrible romance and hard reality of the 
 daily lives of a vast portion of the dwellers in New York, or of the 
 splendor and luxury of the wealthier classes. 
 
 One of the chief characteristics of New York is the rapidity with 
 which changes occur in it. Those who were familiar with the city 
 in the past will find it new to them now. The march of progress 
 and improvement presses on with giant strides, and the city of 
 to-day is widely separated from the city of a few years ago. Only 
 one who has devoted himself to watching its onward career, either 
 in prosperity and magnificence or in misery and crime, can form 
 any idea of the magnitude and character of the wonderful changes 
 of the past ten years. 
 
 The volume now offered to the reader aims to be a faithful and 
 graphic picture of the New York of to-day, and to give, in life-like 
 
 iii 
 
IT 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 colors, views of its magnificent streets and buildings, its busy, 
 bustling crowds, its rushing elevated trains, its countless sights, its 
 romance, its mystery, its nobler and better efforts in the cause of 
 humanity, its dark crimes, and terrible tragedies. In short, the 
 work endeavors to hold up to the reader a faithful mirror, in which 
 shall pass all the varied scenes that transpire in New York, by sun- 
 light and by gaslight. To those who have seen the great city, the 
 work is offered as a means of recalling some of the pleasantest ex- 
 periences of their lives ; while to the still larger class who have 
 never enjoyed this pleasure, it is hoped that it will be the medium 
 of their acquiring an intimate acquaintance with New York in the 
 quiet of their own homes, and without the expense or fatigue of a 
 journey. 
 
 This volume is not a work of fiction, but a narrative of well au- 
 thenticated, though often startling facts. The darker sides of New 
 York life are shown in their true colors, and without any effort to 
 tone them down. Foul blots are to be found upon the life of the 
 great city. Sin, vice, crime and shame are terrible realities there, 
 and they have been presented here as they actually exist. 
 
 Throughout the work, the aim of the author has been to warn 
 those who wish to see for thenjselves the darker side of city life, of 
 the dangers attending such undertakings. A man who seeks the 
 haunts of vice and crime in New York takes his life in his hand, ex- 
 poses himself to dangers of the most real kind, and deserves all the 
 harm that may come to him in his quest of knowledge. Enough is 
 told in this volume to satisfy legitimate curiosity, and to convince 
 the reader that the only path of safety in New York is to avoid all 
 places of doubtful repute. The city is bright and beautiful enough 
 to occupy all one's tim.e with its wonderful sights and innocent plea- 
 sures. To venture under the shadow, is to court danger in all its forms. 
 No matter how wise in his own conceit " a stranger may be, he is 
 but a child in the hands of the disreputable classes of the great city. 
 
 In the preparation of this work the author has drawn freely upon 
 his own experience, the result of a long and intimate acquaintance 
 with all the various phases of New York life. He ventures to hope 
 that those who are familiar with the subject will recognize the truth- 
 fulness of the statements made, and that the book may prove a 
 source of pleasure and profit to all who may honor it with a perusal. 
 
 November js/, 1882. j. d. m'c. 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRITIONS. 
 
 BARTHOLDI'S STATUE, "LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD," 
 (Frontispiece) 
 
 EVENING POST BUILDING (Full Page) 4, 
 
 ODD FELLOWS' HALL 4^ 
 
 NEW YORK LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY'S BUILDING 45 
 
 DOMESTIC SEWING MACHINE BUILDING (Full Page) 47 
 
 TRIBUNE BUILDING 48 
 
 STAATS ZEITUNG BUILDING 49 
 
 GRAND CENTRAL DEPOT (Full Page) tofa,.e 6t 
 
 PAVONIA DOCKS. JERSEY CITY (Full Page) 9c 
 
 BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF NEW YORK (Full Page) 95 
 
 BROADWAY, LOOKING NORTH FROM EXCHANGE PLACE ijft 
 
 MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE BUILDING 13* 
 
 ST. PAUL'S CHURCH (Full Page) 139 
 
 BROADWAY, AT THE POST OFFICE (Full Page) 141 
 
 LORD AND TAYLOR'S DRY GOODS STORE (Full Page) 15c 
 
 SWELL TURNOUT ON FIFTH AVENUE (Full Page) 173 
 
 METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILWAY STATION, SIXTH AVENUE AND 
 
 TWENTY-THIRD STREET (Full Page) to/ace 175 
 
 ELEVATED RAILROAD, CHATHAM SQUARE (Full Page) to face 183 
 
 COENTIES SLIP (Full Page) tafar.e 191 
 
 THE THIRD AVENUE RAILROAD DEPOT 241 
 
 MASONIC TEMPLE, SIXTH AVENUE AND TWENTY-THIRD STREET 253 
 
 METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILROAD, SIXTH AVENUE AND FOUR- 
 TEENTH STREET (Full Page) to face 255 
 
 COACHING DAY IN CENTRAL PARK (Full Page) 26* 
 
 COOPER INSTITUTE AND ELEVATED RAILROAD, THIRD AVENUE (Full 
 
 Page) to /oca ztif 
 
 "PLEASE GIVE ME A PENNY" 27: 
 
 SCENE ON WEST STREET (Full Page) 279 
 
 CITY HALL AND PARK (Full Page) to/acg 297 
 
 UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY 294 
 
 CUSTOM HOUSE 301 
 
 CUSTOM HOUSE INSPECTION (Full Page) 305 
 
 STEINWAY HALL 307 
 
 COOPER UNION 309 
 
 NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN 37a 
 
 GRAND CENTRAL DEPOT, FRONT VIEW (Full Page) 317 
 
 A VETERAN CALLER AT WORK (Full Page) 325 
 
 A CALLER WHO HAS HAD TOO MUCH PUNCH 327 
 
 NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE 335 
 
 BELL TELEPHONE EXCHANGE (Full Page) to/acg 331 
 
 CUNARD STEAMSHIP "GALLIA" 361 
 
 SOUND STEAMER BRISTOL (Full Page) to/acf 361 
 
 GRAND SALCON, SOUND STEAMER (Full Page) 363 
 
 COURTLANDT AND LIBERTY STREET FERRIES (Full Page) ^...to/act 367 
 
 AN ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE FOILED (Full Page) ta fitcs 
 
Vi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAVONIA AND ERIE RAILWAY FERRY (Full Page) 409 
 
 THL TOMBS 4m 
 
 SCENE IN A POLICE COURT (Full Page) to face 417 
 
 LUDLOW STREET JAIL 419 
 
 UNION SQUARE, AT FOURTEENTH STREET (Full Page) to/ace 427 
 
 MADISON SQUARE (Full Page) 429 
 
 VIEW OF THE LAKE FROM THE TERRACE 451 
 
 THE LOWER TERRACE IN CENTRAL PARK 453 
 
 BRIDGE ACROSS THE LAKE (Full Page) 455 
 
 THE OBELISK (Full Page) 463 
 
 TRmiTY CHURCH (Full Page) 471 
 
 A FANCY BALL AT THE BUCKINGHAM PALACE (Full Page) to face 481 
 
 A WATER STREET DANCE HOUSE (Full Page) 491 
 
 JAV GOULD 497 
 
 THE SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT ARMORY 499 
 
 THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY 502 
 
 WM. K, VANDERBILT 503 
 
 RIVER PIRATES ESCAPING FROM THE POLICE (Full Page) 519 
 
 CREEDMOOR RIFLE RANGE 538 
 
 TOO MUCH RUM (Full Page) .' 531 
 
 HENRY BERGH (Full Page) 535 
 
 BROOKLYN BRIDGE AND EAST RIVER (Full Page) 538 
 
 SCENE IN A BROADWAY GAMBLING HALL 544 
 
 LOW CLASS GAMBLING DEN 547 
 
 THE TUNNEL UNDER THE HUDSON RIVER 554 
 
 A. T. STEWART & CO.'S RETAIL STORE (Full Page) 557 
 
 TENEMENT HOUSE IN BAXTER STREET (Full Page) to face 56* 
 
 JERRY M'AULEY 564 
 
 MRS M'AULEY 567 
 
 BOOTH'S THEATRE (Full Page) 57i 
 
 GRAND OPERA HOUSE 576 
 
 THE HOMES OF THE POOR (Full Page) 58a 
 
 SCENE IN THE CHINESE QUARTERS (Full Page) to face 585 
 
 SHANTIES IN EIGHTH AVENUE (Full Page) 5^7 
 
 HOSPITAL FOR CATS (Full Page) 10 face syi 
 
 THE EVENING MAIL BUILDING 600 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE GREAT METROPOLIS. 
 
 •BMBRAL DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK CITY — LOCATION— NATURAL ADVANTAGES — COMMERCIAL 
 
 ADVANTAGES — THE STREETS BUILDINGS CLIMATE — HEALTHFULNESS MORTALITY RAPtD 
 
 GROWTH OF THE CITY LOFTY BUILDINGS — DESCRIPTION OF THE MOST NOTED AND THE 
 
 HIGHEST STRUCTURES IN THE CITY— REASONS FOR BUILDING SO HIGH— LAND CHEAP UP 
 STAIRS 33 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 THE PEOPLE OF NEW YORK. 
 
 POPULATION OF NEW YORK IN 1870— THE STATE CENSUS OF 1875— WHAT CHANGES IT SHOWED— POPU- 
 LATION IN 1880 POPULATION AFFECTED BY THE IMPROVEMENTS IN THE LOWER PART OF THB 
 
 CITY THE MOST DENSELY SETTLED PART OF NEW YORK THE FLOATING POPULATION 
 
 STRANGERS IN NEW YORK — FOREIGN DISTRICTS-^COSMOPOLITAN CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLK 
 CHARACTERISTICS OF NEW YORKERS — LACK OF PUBLIC SPIRIT — INDIFFERENCE TO POLITI- 
 CAL AFFAIRS — THE RESULT — THE RACE FOR WEALTH — HOW BUSINESS IS DONE IN NEW YORK- 
 WEARING OUT BODY AND SOUL — A PHILOSOPHICAL MERCH.\NT — A NEW COMER'S IMPRESSIONS 
 — LIVING TOO FAST — NO CHANCE FOR LAGGARDS — HOW SUCCESS IS WON — MERIT THE TEST — 
 NEW YORK FROM A MORAL POINT OF VIEW — ITS CHARITIES AS'D BENEVOLENCE — TOI ERATION 
 
 OF OPINIONS AND BELIEFS MENTAL CULTURE OF THE PEOPLE WHAT IT COSTS TO LIVE IN 
 
 NEW YORK THB RICH AND THE MIDDLE CLASSES — NEW YORK AS A PLACE OF RESIDENCE — 
 
 ATTACHMENT OF THE PEOPLE TO THE CITY 51 
 
 CHAPTER 111. 
 THE GROWTH OF NEW YORK. 
 
 RAPID GROWTH OF NEW YORK DURING THE PAST THIRTY-FIVE YEARS — THE FLUSH TIMES AFTER 
 THB WAR— EFFECTS OF THE PANIC OF 1873 — A MOMENTARY CHECK — RETURN OF PROS- 
 PERITY — PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE — INCREASE IN BUILDING OPERATIONS — HOW REAL 
 ESTATE APPRECIATES IN VALUE — THE SECRET OF THE GRE.\T INCREASE OF WEALTH IN NEW 
 
 YORK — FUTURE CENTRES OF POPULATION — WHAT NEW YORK WILL BE FIFTY YEARS HENCE 
 
 A GRAND DESTINY 65 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE HARBOR OF NEW YORK, 
 
 WATURAI, ADVANTAGES OF THE HARBOR — THE OUTER AND INNER BAYS — EXCURSIONS— A TRtT 
 
 DOWN THE HARBOR SCENES ALONG THE ROUTE — THE SHIPPING — THROUGH THE INNER BAT 
 
 —governor's ISLAND — BEDLOE's AND ELLIS' ISLANDS — BARTHOLDl'S STATUE — LIBERTY 
 
 ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD — THE KILL VAN KULL — STATEN ISLAND THE NARROWS — TMK 
 
 FORTIFICATIONS THE OUTER BAY QUARANTINE CONEY ISLAND SCENES IN THE LOWBR 
 
 BAY — SANDY HOOK — OUT TO SEA — B.\CK TO NEW YORK W 
 
 vii 
 
Vm CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 SANDY HOOK. 
 
 OeSCIUPTION OP •'the hook" — A NOTED LANDMARK — A SANDY WASTE— THE COVE— THE BBACth 
 
 — THE LIGHT-SHIPS — THE LIFE SAVING STATION— SANDY HOOK LIGHTHOUSE — ITS HISTOSV 
 —THE keeper's house — WRECKS — IN THE LIGHT-TOWER — A GRAND VIEW — OCEAN CEME- 
 TERY — THE FORTIFICATIONS — TESTING THE HEAVY GUNS — THE NORTH LIGHT — THE SYREN* 
 — THE TELEGRAPH STAT/ON '. . . , ^ lO^ 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE N^:VERSINK HIGHLANDS. 
 
 SITUATION OF THE HIGHLANDS— THE SHREWSBURY RIVER — RED BANK — ORIGIN OF THE NAMB 
 OF THE HIGHLANDS — AS SEEN FROM THE SEA — THE LIGHT TOWERS — A MAGNIFICENT LIGHT 
 — ^VIEW FROM THE TOWER — THE PICTURES IN THE LENSES — A GLIMPSE OF FAIRY LAN*"* IIJ. 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 ORGANIZATION OF THE CITY GOVERNMENT — THE MAYOR AND BOARD OF ALDERMEM— 7HB COM» 
 MISSIONERS — DESCRIPTION OF THE VARIOUS MUNICIPAL DEPARTMENTS — POWERS OF OFFI- 
 CIALS— THE COURTS — POLICE JUSTICES- THfi MEN BY WHOM NEW YORK IS GOVERNED — RESPON. 
 SIBILITY OF THE BETTER CLASSES — FROM THE GROG SHOP TO CIVIL POWER — WHO THE LEAD- 
 ERS ARE — THE " boss" — THE RING HOW BOSS TWEED MAINTAINED HIS POWER SPASMODIC 
 
 EFFORTS AT REFORM — MULHOOLYXSM IN NEW YORK — AN INSIDE \TEW OF MUNICIPAL POLrTICS^ 
 — THE SLAVE OF THE RING — LOOKING OUT FOR THE " BOYS " — THE INTERESTS O? THE CITY 
 NEGLECTED — THE POPULAR WILL DEFIED BY THE RING. nS 
 
 CHAPTER Vin. 
 BROADWAY. 
 
 ■AmLY HISTORY OF BROADWAY — UNDEP THE DUTCH AND ENGLISH RULE— PRIMITIVa NAMB OF 
 
 THE STREET— IT COMMENCES TO GKOW—THE GREAT FIRE OF 1776— THE BROADWAY OF TO- 
 DAY APPEARANCE OF THE STREET A STROLL ON BKOAUWAV — THE LOWER STREET 
 
 TRINITY CHURCH — THE INSURANCE CO.MPANIES — THE TELEGRAPH WIRES — MAGNIFICENT 
 BUILDINGS — SCENE FROM THE POST-OFFICE — A BROADWAY JAM — LOWER BROADWAY BY 
 WIGHT -CHARACTERISTICS OF THE VARIOUS PORTIONS OF THE STREET— VIEW FROM CANAL 
 STREET— THE HOTELS — AMONG THE PUBLISHERS — " STEWARt's " — GRACE CHURCH — 
 BROADWAY AT UNION SQUARE — THE NARROWEST PART — MADISON SQUARE — A GRAND SIGHT — 
 VPPER BROADWAY — A STREET OF MARBLE — THE GRE.\T HOTELS— THE CENTRAL PARK 
 REACHED— STREET CARS AND OMNIBUSES — THE NIGHT LIFE OF BROADWAY — SCENES ON THE 
 
 STREET THE STREET WALKERS— THE ELECTRIC LIGHT— THE MIDNIGHT HOUR— BUSINESS 
 
 ON BROADWAY. I34 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE BROADWAY STAGiSp. 
 
 tOPULARITY OF THIS MODE OF CONVEYANCE— A CHEAP PLEASURE— DESCRIPTION OF THE VARI- 
 trUS LINES— THE STAGES AS REGARDS COMFORT— THE OUTSIDE SEATS—" KNOCKING DOWN 
 IN BY-GONE days"— THE PATENT CASH BOX SYSTEM— THE " SPOTTERS "—A NIGHT RIDE 
 WITH JEHU— THE " BOSS " ON THE WATCH— MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS— SKILL OF THE STAGE 
 DRIVERS— A STAGE DRIVER PHOTOGRAPH ED— SUFFERINGS OF THE DRIVERS— UPS AND DOWNS 
 OF THE CRAFT— THE MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE FIFTH AVENUE. 
 
 VJFTH AVBNUH THE CENTRE OF FASHION AND WEALTH — DESCRIPTION OF THB STREET— A 
 GRAND PANORAMA — LOWER FIFTH AVENUE — ENCROACHMENTS OF BUSINESS— FOURTEENTH 
 
 STRBKT — THB " SWALLOW- TAIL" DEMOCRACY — AMONG THB PIANO MAKERS CHICKERING 
 
 HALL — CHURCHES CLUBS AND ART GALLERIES — TWENTY-TKJRD STREET — DELMONICO'S — ■ 
 
 THB ASTOR RESIDENCES — STEWART'S MARBLE PALACE — A REGION OF BROWN STONE — UPPER 
 FIFTH AVENUE — THE HOTELS — THE CATHEDRAL — THE VANDERBILT MANSIONS — ALONG 
 THB CENTRAL PARK — THE LENOX LIBRARY — THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSIONS — HOMES OF 
 WEALTH AND LUXURY — HOW THEY ARE FITTED UP— FIFTH AVENUE ON NEW YEAr's NIGHT — 
 LIFB IN FIFTH AVENUE — THE WHIRL OF DISSIPATION — WHAT IT COSTS — THE STRUGGLE FOR 
 SHOW — THE " NEWLY RICH " — DARK SIDE OF FIFTH AVENUE LIFE — THE SKELETONS — FIFTH 
 AVEWUB HUSBANDS AND WIVES — THE CHILDREN — "ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS." l6S 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 THE ELEVATED RAILROADS. 
 
 CNCONVENIENCES OF OLD-STYLE TRAVEL — PLANS FOR RAPID TRANSIT — THE FIBST ELEVATED 
 RAILROAD — THE PRESENT SYSTEM — THE METROPOLITAN AND NEW YORK ELEVATED ROADS — 
 THE MANHATTAN COMPANY — DESCRIPTION OF THE ROADS — HOW THEY ARE BUILT — MODE OF 
 OPERATIONS — STATIONS — EMPLOYEES — RAPID TRAINS — ADVANTAGES OF THE SYSTEM — ITS 
 DRAWBACKS — IMMENSE TRAFFIC — RESULTS OF THE ELEVATED SYSTEM — RAPID GROWTH OP 
 THE UPPER PART OF THE CITY — A RIDE ON THE ELEVATED RAILROADS — THB OTGHT TRAINS 
 •—FROM THE BATTERY TO HARLEM BY NIGHT IjS 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 THX VARIOUS CLASSES OF SOCIETY— THB BEST OF ALL — THE "OLD KNICKERBOCKERS" — A HBAVT 
 SET OF SWELLS — RICHES AND CULTURE COMBINED — THE NEWLY RICH — THE CONTROLLING 
 BLBMENT — HOW SHODDY GETS INTO SOCIETY — THE POWER OF MONEY — FASHIONABLE SNOB- 
 BERY — FROM THE TENEMENT HpUSE TO THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSION — MANIA FOR COATS 
 OF ARMS— HOW BOSS TWEED 'WAS VICTIMIZED— SUDDEN APPEARANCES AND DISAPPEAR- 
 ANCES IN SOCIETY " RICHES HAVE WINGS " A FAILURE AND A TRIUMPH WHAT IT COSTS 
 
 MONEY THE ONE THING NEEDFUL — EXTRAVAGANCE OF NEW YORK SOCIETY — LOVE OF DRESS 
 — A FASHIONABLE LADY's WARDROBE— FOLLIES OF THE MEN— PASSION FOR THE LEG BUSI- 
 NESS FASHIONABLE ENTERTAINMENTS — THE END OF EXTRAVAGANT CAREERS — THE SKELE- 
 
 YONS SOMETIMES COME OUT OF THEIR CLOSETS— FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES — HOW 
 Tt'EY AREGIVBN — INVITATIONS— BALL ROOM SCENES — THE SUPPERS — A SWELL CON\'ERSATION 
 — FASHIONABLE THIEVES — AN ARISTOCRATIC SNEAK THIEF — HOW A BROKER KEPT HIS PLACB 
 
 IN SOCIETY A detective's EXPERIENCE IN FASHIONABLE LIFE THE PRETTY WIDOW AND 
 
 THE lACES — 'FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS — WEDDINGS IN HIGH LIFE — ARRANGED ON A PECU- 
 NIARY BASIS MONEY THE ATTRACTION HOW HEARTS ARE BOUGHT AND SOLD THE WED- 
 DING FESTIVITIES — GUARDING THE BRIDAL PRESENTS WHAT IT ALL COSTS FASHIONABLE 
 
 DEATH — ORLY THB RICH CAN AFFORD TO DIE IN NEW YORK COST OF A FASHIONABLB 
 
 rUNBRAL— INTERESTING DETAILS t95 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE STREET RAILWAYS. 
 
 •SHE PRESENT STREET-RAILWAY SYSTEM — IMMENSE BUSINESS DONE BY THE SURFACE ROADS 
 
 EXPENSES AND RECEIPTS — HOW THE ELEVATED ROADS HAVE AFFECTED THE HORSE RAIL- 
 WAYS — DISCOMFORTS OF THE STREET CARS — THE CONDUCTORS AND DRIVERS — STORY OF A 
 conductor's lot — h ARD WORK AND POOR PAY — KNOCKING DOWN — HOW IT IS DONK — BBAT- 
 IMG THB BBLL-FUNCH. t^t 
 
X 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 SIXTH AVENUE. 
 
 ILAPID ADVANCE OF SIXTH AVENUE IN PROSPERITY— DESCRIPTION OF THE STREET— THE IX)WBa 
 PORTION — THE TENEMENT HOUSES — FRENCH FLATS — THE ELEVATED RAILROAD AND ITS 
 STATIONS — A BUSY SCENE — SIXTH-AVENUE STORES — " MACEY'S " — THE JEFFERSON MARKET 
 POLICE COURT — booth's THEATRE — THE MASONIC TEMPLE — " THE TABERNACLE" — SIXTH 
 AVENUE BY NIGHT — A CHANGE OF SCENE — THE STREET-WALKERS — BRAZEN VICE — ^THE 
 FRENCH WOMEN— SNARING A VICTIM — SHAMEFUL SCENES ON THE AVENUE — THE STREET A 
 TERROR TO DECENT PEOPLE— THE ROUGHS— SIXTH-AVENUE OYSTER HOUSES AND BEER SA- 
 LOONS — SCENE IN A FLASH SALOON — A YOUTHFUL CRIMINAL — THE DETECTIVE'S PRIZE — 
 SIXTH AVENUE AFTER MIDNIGHT — A DRUNKEN SINGER — " IN THE SWEET BYE-AND-BYB " — 
 NO EFFORT MADE TO CHECK THE EVIL 250 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 COACHING DAY. 
 
 ■UMORIHSOF BYGONE DAYS — STAGE COACHING IN FORMER YEARS — REVIVAL OF COACHING IH NEW 
 YORK — COLONEL KANE'S ENTERPRISE — THE " TALLY HO " — A HANDSOME SUCCESS — SOCIETY 
 ADOPTS COACHING AS THE" CORRECT THING " — THE COACHING CLUB ORGANIZED — COACHING 
 BAY — THE ANNUAL PARADE — A BRILLIANT SIGHT. 258 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 THE STREETS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 MADISON AVENUE — MILES OF BROWN STONE — PARK AVENUE — LEXINGTON AVENUE — ^THIRTY- 
 FOURTH AND FIFTY-SEVENTH STREETS — MAGNIFICENT RESIDENCES THIRD AVENUE THE 
 
 GREAT HIGHWAY OF THE EAST SIDE — EIGHTH AVENUE THE SMALL TRADERS* PARADISE ^THR 
 
 SATURDAY NIGHT MARKET TWENTY-THIRD AND FOURTEENTH STREETS — DISAPPEARANCE OF 
 
 LANDMARKS — CHANGES IN THE CHARACTER OF THE STREETS — A GLANCE AT TWENTY-THIRD 
 STREET TO-DAY — "tHE BEGGARS' PARADISE "—STREET CHARACTERS — A YOUNG IMPOSTOR — 
 KICKED FROM A HORSE CAR INTO A HOME — BLEECKER STREET — LIFE IN BOHEMIA — A STREET 
 
 •WHERE NO QUESTIONS ARE ASKED GRAND STREET CHATHAM STREET THE CHILDREN OF 
 
 ISRAEL AND THEIR WAYS — FULTON STREET — NASSAU STREET — A CROWDED NEIGHBORHOOD — 
 
 PECULIARITIES OF THE STREET — PINE STREET AMONG THE MONEYED MEN WEST AND 
 
 SOUTH STREETS — ALONG THE WATER SIDE— BUSY SCENES 265 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 DIVORCES WITHOUT PUBLICITY. 
 
 QUEER ADVERTISEMENTS — THE "DIVORCE RING " — ITS FIELD OF OPERATIONS — THKniVORCB 
 LAWYER — WHO HE IS — HEADQUARTERS OF THE MEMBERS OF THE RING SCENE IN A LAW- 
 YER'S OFFICE A RICH CLIENT — " OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE AND ON WITH THE NEW" — A 
 
 CHARACTERISTIC CASE — " THE EASIEST THING IN THE WORLD TO GET A DIVORCE*' — WEST- 
 ERN DIVORCES HOW A MERCHANT MADE A MISTRESS OF HIS WIFE — WHO ARE THE CLIENTS 
 
 — COST OF A DIVORCE — HOW IT IS MANAGED — THE REFEREE SYSTEM — SPOTTING A HUSBAND- 
 MANUFACTURING EVIDENCE — THE " OLD MAN*' ENTRAPPED PROFESSIONAL WITNESSES 
 
 THE DIVORCE LAWYER'S SYSTEM OF DRUMMING UP BUSINESS — DIRTY WORK FOR TEN PBil 
 
 CENT. — SERVING A SUMMONS — A MOCKERY OF JUSTICE — POWER OF THE RING THE COURTS 
 
 AND BAR AFRAID TO BREAK IT UP a8l 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK. 
 
 VRBPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS— HOLIDAY APPEARANCE OF THE CITY— STREET SCENES — BUSINESS 
 BOOMING — SCENES IN THE CITY BY NIGHT — A NOVEL SIGHT ON THE ELEVATED RAILROAD 
 TRAINS — BUSY TIMES IN THE MARKETS — THE TURKEYS — TRINITY CHIMES — MIDNIGHT SER" 
 TICBS CHRISTMAS DAY — HOW IT IS OBSERVED IN NEW YORK — CHRISTMAS WITH THE POOR- 
 
 v» 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 
 
 T»B CITY HALL — THE GOVERNOR'S ROOM — THE COUNTY COURT HOUSE— REMINISCENCES OF THH 
 " TWEED ring" — THE HALL OF RECORDS — THE UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY — THE GRBAT 
 VAULTS — HOW UNCLE SAM's MONEY IS GUARDED — THE ASSAY OFFICE — THE CUSTOM HOUSB— ' 
 A NOBLE EDIFICE — THE BUSINESS OF THE FORT OF NEW YORK — DUTIES OF OFFICIALS — ^TUB 
 BARGE OFFICE — PASSING THROUGH THE CUSTOM HOUSE — CUSTOM HOUSE BROKERS — TAM- 
 MANY HALL — THE TAMMANY SOCIETY — POLITICAL ORGANIZATION — " BOSS KELLY** — THB 
 COOPER UNION — WORK OF THE INSTITUTION — THE«IBLE HOUSE — A GREAT WORK DONE — ^THB 
 NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN — HOW THE SCHOOLS ARE CONDUCTED — ANNUAL BXMIKI- 
 TIONS — THE YOUNG MEN's CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION BUILDING — THE LECTURE ROOM — A 
 REFUGE FOR YOUNG MEN — THE GRAND CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPOT — INTERNAL ARRANGE- 
 MENTS — THE CAR HOUSE — THE FOURTH AVENTJE TUNNELS. 296 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 NEW YEAR'S CALLS. 
 imw York's great festal day — preparations for new year's day — tRb hair-drbssbrs* 
 
 ROUNDS — RECEPTION CARDS — HOW THEY ARE ISSUED JOINT RECEPTIONS — THE CARD-HAS' 
 
 KET AND ITS MEANING LADIES' TOILETS — A CHANCE FOR REFORM — THE FIRST CAU.BUS— 
 
 THE VETERANS — ADVANTAGES OF A LIST — SCENES TOWARD NIGHTFALL — TOO MUCH PVNCH— 
 MRS. B.'S RECEPTION — A SWEET FINALE — NEW YEAR IN THE KITCHEN-v -JBOW THE SALOON* 
 CELEBRATE THE DAY — REFRESHMENTS AND PUNCH FOR ALL — NEW YORX WITH A HEAD- 
 ACHE — LADIES' DAY. 320 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 AMONG THE BULLS AND BEARS OF WALL STREET. 
 
 •BSCRIPTION OF WALL STREET — VALUE OF REAL ESTATE — ENORMOUS RENTS — ORIGIN OF THB 
 NAME OF THB STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — TRANSACTIONS OF THE STREET — THB SsCKNIt 
 
 AT NOON — THE STOCK EXCHANGE — THE LONG ROOM OUTSIDE DEALERS — THE REGULAR 
 
 BOARD — HOW BUSINESS IS CONDUCTED IN THE EXCHANGE — THE VICE-PRESIDENT — RUL6S OF 
 THE EXCHANGE — GOOD FAITH EXACTED OF ITS MEMBERS— THE GOVERNMENT BOARI>-^ 
 CHARACTERISTIC SCENES — THE VAULTS AND THEIR TREASURES — THE TELEGRAPH I^fS^RlI- 
 MENTS — THE " TICKERS " — LIFE OF A STOCK BROKER — SPORTS OF THE EXCHANGE — THB 
 
 CLEARING HOUSE AND ITS OPERATIONS — CURBSTONE BROKERS— RECKLESS TRANSACTIONS 
 
 STOCK SPECULATIONS — BUYING AND SELLING ON COMMISSION — UNCERTAINTIES OF THB 
 
 STREET — HOW FORTUNE ARE MADE AND LOST ON WALL STREET — STOCK GAMBLING WHO 
 
 ARB THE SPECULATORS — A DARING BROKER — " BLACK FRID.W " — HOW AN OPER.ATOR WAS 
 
 RUINED STOCK SWINDLERS — SHARPERS IN W.\LL STREET THE COMBINATION SYSTB* — ft 
 
 BAREFACED SWINDLE — ACTION OF THE GENER.\L GOVERNMENT — HOW BOGUS OPERATORS 
 FLEECE UNSUSPECTING CUSTOMERS — AN INSIDE VIEW OF THE COMBINATION SYST8M— ' 
 ENORMOUS PROFITS — THB SWINDLE EXPOSED — A WARNING TO WOULD-BB SPECULATORS. 33* 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 ALONG THE WHARVES. 
 
 WRETCHED CHARACTER OF THE WHARVES — PLAN FOR A NEW SYSTEM — THE NORTH RlVBll 
 FP.ONT — THE RAILROAD PIERS — THE FERRY HOUSES — THE FOREIGN STEAMSHIPS — THB 
 FLOATING PALACES OF THE HUDSON AND LONG ISLAND SOUND — THE BETHEL— THB BOAT 
 STORES— THE GRAIN ELEVATORS — THE EAST RIVER FRONT — SAILING VESSELS— THE SHIP 
 YARDS — THE DRY DOCKS — THE CAN.\L BOATS — SCEN-ES ON BOARD — THE FRUIT TRADE — ^TH» 
 FISH MARKET — SCENF.S ALONG THE WHARVES — ACCIDENTS — THE RESCUE STATION* — THK 
 TOLUNTEER LIFE-SAVING CORPS — " NAN, THE LIFE SAVER." j6» 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 POLICE. 
 
 OKICIN OF THB NEW YORK POLICE FORCE— THE OLD TIME POLICEMEN — " OLD HAYBS 
 
 JNCBEASE OF CRIME— GEORGE VV. MATSELL — THE FIRST REGULAR POLICE FORCE — OPPOSITIOH 
 IT— THE METROPOLITAN POLICE FORCE ORGANIZED— THE MUNICIPAL POLICE— POUCK 
 
 HEADQUARTERS— THE COMMISSIONERS— SUPERINTENDENT WALLING THE SUBORDINATB 
 
 OFFICERS — THE PATROLMEN— QUALIFICATIONS OF A POLICEMAN — THE BROADWAY SQUAD 
 
 DUTIES OF THE FORCE— OMNIPRESENCE OF THE POLICE— POWER OVER THE ROUGHS — DAN- 
 GERS OF A policeman's LIFE — DARING EXPLOITS OF CAPTAINS WILLIAMS AND ALLAIRE 
 
 JMGHTING A MOB — FEAR OF THE " LOCUSTS " — UNIFORM OF THE FORCE — HOW THE CITY IS 
 
 FATKOLLED HOURS OF DUTY — A SINGULAR POLICEMAN — HOW PETE JOINED THE FORCE 
 
 HIE SERVICES — ARRESTS — THE STATION HOUSES — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS — THE " BUM* 
 MERS' ROOMS "—HOW VAGRANTS ARE LODGED — THE SERGEANT IN CHARGE — A NIGHT IN A 
 POUCE STATION — A FEMALE TRAMP — " DRUNK AND DISORDERLY '' — A CASE OF DISTRESS — A 
 »BU1TLESS ERRAND — A NEW WAY TO GET HOME AT NIGHT — SEARCH FOR A MISSING HUSBAND 
 — A POLITICAL ROW — YOUNG BLOODS ON A LARK — COSTLY FUN — A WOULD-BE-SUICIDE — 
 BROUGHT BACK FROM THE GRAVE — A JOLLY TRAMP — A GHASTLY SPECTACLE — MASKERS IN A 
 STATION HOUSE — THE MOUNTED POLICE — A SENSIBLE HORSE — THE HARBOR POLICE — A HARD 
 UFK — PROVISION FOR DISABLED POLICEMEN AND THEIR FAMILIES 368 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 FERRIES. 
 
 WBW York's only means of communicaiion with the main land — number of ferries— 
 
 THE FERRY BOATS CROSSING IN A FOG ANNOYANCES OF FERRY TRAVEL — ^THE FBRRT 
 
 JBOUSHS A MOONLIGHT RIDE ON A FERRY BOAT A SUICIDE ACCIDENTS. . . . 4<H 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 THE PRISONS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 THE TOMBS — DESCRIPTION OF THE BUILDING — THE INTERIOR — THE " BRIDGE OF SIGHS" — 
 PLACE OF EXECUTION — THE MALE PRISON — THE CELLS — ^THE WOMEn's PRISON — ^THB 
 "bummers' hall" — THK WARDEn's OFFICE — THE "SWELL CELLS" — THE BOYS* PRISON — 
 RELIGIOUS SERVICES — GOVERNMENT OF THE TOMBS — WARDEN FINN — THE MATRON — A 
 PRISON OF DETENTION — NOTED ESCAPES FROM THE TOMBS — " BLACK MARIA " — ^THE 
 POLICE COURT — HOW PRISONERS ARE DISPOSED OF — THE COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS — 
 
 THE "tombs shysters" — LUDLOW STREET JAIL THE SHERIFF'S PRISON — IMPRISONMENT 
 
 FOB DEBT CAPTIVE MILITIAMEN — FEDERAL PRISONERS — EXTORTIONS PRACTICED UPON 
 
 rRISONERS — HOW THB DEPUTY SHERIFFS BLEKD THEIR VICTIMS 409 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 THK BATTERY PARK— ITS HISTORY— THE BATTERY IN OLD TIMES — ITS PRESENT CONDITION — A 
 
 DELIGHTFUL BREATHING PLACE — THE BARGE OFFICE THE BOWLING GREEN — THB CITY 
 
 MALL PARK— TOMPKINS SQUARE— SQUANDERING THE PUBLIC FUNDS A FINE PARK RUINED- 
 WASHINGTON SQUARE UNION SQUARE AND ITS SURROUNDINGS THE " SLAVE MARKET*' 
 
 STUYVESANT SQUARE MADISON SQUARE A DELIGHTFUL PLEASURE-GROUND MAGNIFI- 
 CENT SURROUNDINGS — GRAMMERCY PARK — RESERVOIR SQUARE — MOUNT MORRIS SQUARE — 
 MOBNINGSIDE PARK — RIVERSIDE PARK. 4M 
 
CONTENTS. Xlll 
 
 «r 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 THE PAWNBROKERS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 (■B SIGN OF THE THREE BALLS — LAWS RESPECTING PAWNBROKERS — HOW LICENSES ARE ISSUED — ■ 
 DISREGARD OF THE LAW BY THE PAWNBROKERS — SOURCES OF PROFIT — EXCESSIVE INTEREST — 
 STORAGE CHARGES — SALES OF UNREDEEMED GOODS — WHO ARE THE PAWNBROKERS — THtt 
 TEWS — A DISHONEST CLASS — SUCKING THE LIFE-BLOOD OF THE POOR — HOW CUSTOMERS ARK 
 
 SWINDLED CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN A PAWN SHOP — THE JEWs' ONE PER CENT. — AN INSIDK 
 
 VIEW OF THE BUSINESS — DRUMMING UP CUSTOM 432 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 THE CENTRAL PARK. 
 
 •^NS FOR A GRAND PARK — CHOICE OF A SITE — THE PARK COMMISSION ORGANIZED — DIFFICUt" 
 TIES IN THE WAY— THE WORK BEGUN — THE RESULT — THE CENTRAL PARK OF TO-DAY— COST 
 
 OF THE PARK — THE UPPER AND LOWER PARKS — THE ENTRANCES — THE POND THE OLI> 
 
 ARSENAL — THE MENAGERIE — THE METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATORY — THE BALL GROUND 
 
 THE DAIRY — AMUSEMENTS FOR CHILDREN — THE GREEN — THE SHEEPFOLD — THE SEVENTH 
 REGIMENT STATUE — STATUE OF WEBSTER — THE MARBLE ARCH — THE MALL — STATUES ON THK 
 
 MALL THE PLAZA — THE VINE-COVERED WALK — THE ARCADE — THE TERRACE THE ESPLAN- 
 
 ADE — THE BETHESDA FOUNTAIN — THK LAKE — BOATING SKATING SCENES — THE CONSERVA- 
 TORY WATER — THE RAMBLE THE CAVE THE BELVEDERE THE CROTON RESERVOIRS THK 
 
 UPPER PARK — HARLEM BEER THE OLD POWDER HOUSE — THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OP 
 
 ART — THE DI CESNOLA COLLECTION — THE OBELISK — A VENERABLE RELIC OF THE ANCIENT 
 WORLD THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY — THE TRANSVERSE ROADS — A TRI- 
 UMPH OF ENGINEERING — THE PARK COMMISSION — THE POLICE REGULATIONS — PARK TRAFFIC. 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 TRINITY CHURCH. 
 
 **OI.D trinity" — THE THREE CHURCHES— DESCRIPTION OF TRINnTY CHURCH — THE INTERIOR^ 
 THE ALTAR AND REREDOS — THE WINDOWS — THE SERVICES — FINE MUSIC — DAILY SIGHTS It* 
 TRINITY — THE SPIRE — THE CHIMES — VIEW FROM THE SPIRE — THE CHURCHYARD — NOTED 
 TOMBS — TRINITY PARISH — THE CHAPELS — WEALTH OF THE PARISH — ITS NOBLE WORK. 469 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 THE LOST SISTERHOOD. 
 
 RBVALBNCB OF PROSTITUTION IN NEW YORK — POLICE STATISTICS — FIRST-CLASS HOUSES— 
 THE PROPRIETRESS — THE INMATES — THE ARISTOCRACY OF SHAME — THE VISITORS — 
 VISITS OF MARRIED MEN — AVERAGE LIFE OF A FASHIONABLE PROSTITUTE — THE NEXT 
 STEP — THE SECOND-CLASS HOUSES — TERRORS OF THESE PLACES — THE GREENE STREET! 
 
 BAGNIOS GOING DOWN INTO THE DEPTHS — THE NEXT STEP — THE WATER STREET HELLS 
 
 — AVERAGE LIFE OF A PROSTITUTE — "THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH*' — HOW YOUNG GIRLS 
 4RE TEMPTED INTO SIN — EFFORTS TO SAVE AN ERRING DAUGHTER — THE STREET WALK- 
 ERS — THE PANEL HOUSES — HOW MEN ARE ROBBED AND MURDERED IN THESE HOUSES 
 
 THE CONCERT SALOONS— THE WAITER GIRLS — THE DANCE HALLS— THE " BUCKINGHAM"— 
 THE "CREMORNE" — BUCKINGHAM BALLS — ASSIGNATION HOUSES — PERSONALS — THE MID- 
 NIGHT MISSION — REFORMATORY ESTABLISHMENTS — ABORTIONISTS — THE WICKEDftST 
 WOMAN IN NEW YORK. 
 
xiv 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 JAY GOULD. 
 
 KARLT LIFE OF THE GREAT FINANCIER — PERSONAL APPEARANCE — KNOWLEDGE OF LAW— 
 ENTERS THE ERIE ROAD — BLACK FRIDAY — HOW GOULD CAME OUT OF IT— A SHREWD 
 GAME IN " ERIE " — HIS WEALTH— ATTACKED IN WALL STREET— HIS METHOD OF OPER- 
 ATING 496 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 THE NATIONAL GUARD. 
 
 THE FIRST DIVISION — ITS ORGANIZATION — HOW ARMED — APPROPRIATIONS BY THE CITY- 
 PRIVATE EXPENSES— THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF — EFFICIENCY OF THE TROOPS— PAST 
 SERVICES OF THE FORCE— OVERAWING THE MOB— PUTTING DOWN RIOTS — A REINFORCE- 
 MENT TO THE POLICE— DISCIPLINE— THE ARMORIES— THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY — 
 PARADES 499 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 WILLIAM H. VANDERBILT. 
 
 •HB RICHEST MAN IN NEW YORK — EARLY LIFE — BECOMES A FARMER — ENTERS THE RAILROAD 
 WORLD — BECOMES VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE NEW YORK CENTRAL SYSTEM — SUCCEEDS THE 
 OLD COMMODORE — THE VANDERBILT PALACES — LOVE OF FAST HORSES. . . 503 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 CRIME IN NEW YORK. 
 
 ntOFESSIONAL CRIMINALS — THEIR NUMBERS — THE THIEVES— SUPERINTENDENT WALLING's ©B» 
 SCRIPTION OF THEM— THE THIEF LANGUAGE GRADES OF THIEVES — BURGLARS— BANK ROB- 
 BERS—SNEAK THIEVES — CONFIDENCE MEN — HOW THEY OPERATE— THE PICKPOCKETS — 
 WHERE THEY COME FROM — THE ROGUES' GALLERY — THE RIVER THIEVES — DARING CRIMES 
 — ^THE FENCES— HOW STOLEN GOODS ARE DISPOSED OF— TRICKS OF THE FENCES— THE 
 ROUGHS— BLACKMAILERS- -HOW THEY FLEECE THEIR VICTIMS. .... 506 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 CREEDMOOR. 
 
 tWB NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA— THE CREEDMOOR RANGE— THE GROUND* 
 — THE TARGETS— SHOOTING MATCHES— NATIONAL GUARD PRACTICE— AMATEUR MARKS- 
 HBN .527 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 BAR-ROOMS. 
 
 ••WESTS FOR DRUNKENNESS AND DISORDER- NUMBER OF LICENSED BAR-ROOMS — THE DRINK- 
 ING CAPACITY OF WALL STREET — AMOUNT OF BEER DRANK — THE LARGEST BAR IN THE 
 WORLD — AN ENORMOUS BUSINESS IN RUM — HIGH RENTS ASKED FOR BAR-ROOMS— THE ALL- 
 KIGHT HOUSES — THE BUCKET-SHOPS — GREAT AMOUNT OF DRUNKENNESS — WOMEN AS 
 DRINKERS — WHERE THEY GET THEIR LIQUOR. 53» 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XV 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 HENRY BERGH. 
 
 tun FRIEND OF THE BRUTE CREATION— ESTABLISHMENT OS THE "SOCIETY FOR THB PRE- 
 VENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS " — WORK OF MR. BERGH — HOW HE BECAME A TERROR 
 TO TWO-LEGGED BRUTES — A NOBLE RECORD. 534 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 THE EAST RIVER BRIDGE. 
 
 VRAVEL and traffic BETWEEN NEW YORK AND BROOKLYN — THE FERRIES — PLANS FOR A 
 BRIDGE— THE WORK BEGUN— THB GREAT BRIDGE — THE TOWERS — THE BRIDGE PROPER 
 — THE CENTRAL SPAN — THE CABLES — THE ANCHORAGES — THE APPROACHES — PLANS FOR 
 TRAVEL ACROSS THE BRIDGE 537 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 GAMBLERS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 I.AWS AGAINST GAMBLING — NUMBER OF GAMBLERS IN THE CITY— THE FARO BANKS— FIRST- 
 CLASS ESTABLISHMENTS— SPLENDID VICE— THE BROADWAY HELLS — THE SKIN GAME- 
 DANGERS OF SUCH PLACES — THE DAY HOUSES — POOL-SELLING — TRICKS OF POOL-SELLERS 
 LOTTERIES — HOW THEY ARE CONDUCTED — POLICY DEALING — AN INSIDE VIEW OF THB 
 
 GAME 5^ 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 THE HUDSON RIVER TUNNEL. 
 
 A DARING UNDERTAKING— THE WORK BEGUN — ACCIDENTS — DESCRIPTION OF THE TUNNELS— 
 THE PROPOSED DEPOT IN NEW YORK — PROSPECTS OF THE SCHEME. . . . 55J 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 FASHIONABLE SHOPPING. 
 
 FASHIONABLE STORES — HANDSOME GOODS — THE FIXED-PRICE SYSTEU — DETECTIVES ON THB 
 
 WATCH— " Stewart's " — enormous transactions there 556 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 TENEMENT HOUSES. 
 
 density of population in new YORK— number of tenement houses AND INHABITANTS 
 — causes of LIVING IN TENEMENT HOUSES — HIGH RENTS — HOMES OF THE WORKING 
 class — HOPES FOR THE FUTURE— VARIETIES OF TENEMENT HOUSES — A SPECIMEN — CLOSK 
 PACKING— RENTS OF APARTMENTS — EVILS OF THE SYSTEM 559 
 
 CHAPTER XLIIL 
 JERRY McAULEY's MISSION. 
 
 WATER STREET— THE MISSION — ITS SUCCESS — JERRY m'AULBY — THB REFORMED THIEF— MRS. 
 m'AULEY— THE PRAYER-MEETINGS— THE AUDIENCE — JERRY M'AULEY'S METHODS — A SCENK 
 AT A PKAYER-MEETING— A WONDERFUL WORK. 56j 
 
XVI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 METROPOLITAN AMUSEMENIS. 
 
 THE PRIKCIPAL THEATRES — METROPOLITAN AU* .ENCES — EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS TKHATRK 
 — SALARIES OF ACTORS — PRODUCTION OF NEW PLAYS — LONG RUNS — " BOOTH'S " THEATRE 
 A MODEL ESTABLISHMENT — THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE — " WALLACk's " — " THE UNION 
 
 SQUARE " — " Daly's " — the academy of music — variety theatres— the grand 
 
 I>UKE'» theatre — NEGRO MINSTRELS — CONCERTS — LECTURES. , - . . 571^ 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 LIFE UNDER THE SHADOW. 
 
 POVERTY IN NEW YORK — THE DESERVING POOR — SAD SCENES — "RAGPICKERS* ROW " — HOW 
 THE RAGPICKERS LIVE— AN ITALIAN COLONY — SOUR BEER— DRUNKENNESS IN "RAGPICK- 
 ERS* row" — BOTTLE ALLEY — A RELIC OF THE FIVE POINTS — A WRETCHED QUARTER — 
 THE DWELLINGS OF POVERTY — THE CELLARS — LIFE BELOW GROUND — BAXTER STREET — 
 THB CHINESE QUARTER— A HOSPITAL FOR CATS. ...«••... jSr 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 THE METROPOLITAN PRESS. 
 
 THE DAILY NEWSPAPERS — HOW THE LEADING JOURNALS ARE CONDUCTED — THE VARIOUS DA. 
 PARTMENTS— PRINTING-HOUSE SQUARE — EDITORS* SALARIES— THE "NEW YORK HERALD " 
 — THE HERALD OFFICE — JAMES GORDON BENNETT — CIRCULATION OF "THE HERALD "-, , 
 
 THB TRIBUNE " THE TALL TOWER '* — WHITELAW REID PROFITS OF "THE TRIBUNE"-, 
 
 "THB TIMES," THE LEADING REPUBLICAN JOURNAL — "THE SVtr," A LIVELY PAPER-.. 
 CBARLES A. DANA— PROFITS OF "THE SUN*'— THE EVENING PAPERS— WEEKLIES— MAGA . 
 
NEW YORK 
 
 BY 
 
 SUNLIGHT AND GASLIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE GREAT METROPOLIS. 
 
 ««IfBRAL DESCRIPTION OP NEW YORK CITY — LOCATION— NATURAL ADVANTAGES — COMMBRCIAL 
 ADVANTAGES— THE STREETS — BUILDINGS — CLIMATE — HKALTHFULNESS — MORTALITY — RAPID 
 GROWTH OF THE CITY— LOFTY BUILDINGS — DESCRIPTION OF THE MOST NOTED AND THK 
 HIGHEST STRUCTURES IN THE CITY— REASONS FOR BUILDING SO HIGH — LAND CHEAP VP 
 STAIRS. 
 
 New York, the commercial metropolis of America, 
 is also the largest , city of the Western Hemisphere. 
 It lies at the mouth of the Hudson River, and occupies 
 the whole of Manhattan Island, Randall's, Wards, and 
 Blackwell's Islands, in the East River, Bedloe's, Ellis's 
 and Governor's Islands in the Bay, and a portion of the 
 main land of West Chester County, north of Manhattan 
 Island, and separated from it by the Harlem River and 
 Spuyten Duyvel Creek. Its extreme length northward 
 from the Battery is sixteen miles ; its greatest width, 
 from the Hudson to the mouth of the Bronx River, is 
 four and a half miles; thus giving it an area of forty- 
 one and a half square miles, or twenty-six thousand five 
 hundred acres. Of these, twelve thousand one hundred 
 acres are on the main land. The city proper — the true 
 > 33 
 
34 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 New York — stands on Manhattan Island, which is 
 thirteen and a half miles in length, and varies in 
 breadth from a few hundred yards to two and a half 
 miles. It has an area of nearly twenty-two square 
 miles, or about fourteen thousand square acres. The 
 island is irregular in formation, having somewhat the 
 shape of a fan. It is very narrow at The Battery, its 
 southern end, and widens rapidly as it proceeds north- 
 ward. Its extreme length on the western or Hudson 
 River side is thirteen and a half miles, while on the East 
 River side it is nine miles long. It attains its greatest 
 breadth at Fourteenth and Eighty-seventh streets, 
 where it is about two and a half miles wide. At The 
 Battery the land is but a few inches above the surface 
 of the water, but from that point it rises steadily until 
 It reaches its northern limit, at Washington Heights, a 
 range of bold and beautiful cliffs, 130 feet above the 
 Hudson. The lower part of the island is sandy; the 
 upper part very rocky. Several bridges over the Har- 
 lem River and Spuyten Duyvel Creek afford connection 
 with the main land, and numerous lines of ferry boats 
 maintain constant intercourse on the Long Island and 
 New Jersey shores. The city is compactly built along 
 the western side, from the Battery to Fifty-ninth street, 
 the lower end of the Central Park. From that point 
 to Manhattanville, One Hundred and Twenty-fifth 
 street, the buildings ar^ straggling, and above Man- 
 hattanville the west side is very rural, abounding in 
 country seats, market gardens and miniature farms. 
 The east side is built up compactly almost the whole 
 way, there being only about two miles of space that 
 does not merit this description. 
 
HOW NEW YORK IS BUILT. 
 
 35 
 
 Situated between two broad, deep rivers, and within 
 sixteen miles of the sea, upon which it looks out from 
 the safety of its well-sheltered harbor, Manhattan Is- 
 land was designed by nature as the seat of a great 
 commercial metropolis. Its waters are deep enough 
 for the largest vessels, and in its commodious harbor 
 the fleets of the world could ride at ease. It commands 
 all the chief routes of communication with the great 
 West and South, and steam and electricity have enabled 
 it to reach the various quarters of the globe as easily 
 and as quickly as any of its old world rivals. 
 
 New York is a magnificently built city. The lower 
 portion is a dense mass of houses, with narrow and 
 often crooked streets. This is the business quarter, 
 and is not so thickly populated as the middle districts. 
 Above Canal street the streets assume a more reralar 
 
 o 
 
 formation. They are broad and straight, crossing each 
 other at right angles, and are laid off at regular inter- 
 vals. In the lower portion of the city all the streets 
 are designated by names. Above Houston street, the 
 cross streets, or those extending from river to river, are 
 designated by numbers. The avenues start from about 
 Third street, and extend to the northern end of the 
 island. The city is substantially, as well as handsomely 
 built. It contains few frame houses, the prevailing 
 materials being marble, stone, iron and brick. Marble, 
 iron, and the lighter colored stones are used principally 
 in the construction of business edifices, but the resi- 
 dences are chiefly of brick and brown stone. Land be- 
 ing very high in price, the buildings are generally lofty, 
 often reaching an altitude of seven and eight, and some- 
 times ten and twelve stories. The business edifices 
 
36 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 have generally two cellars below the pavement, with 
 vaults extending out under the street. These are dry, 
 are well lighted and ventilated, and are used for the 
 storage of goods. As a rule, the business houses of 
 the city are handsome and elegant. Every convenience 
 is provided for the prompt and proper despatch of the 
 business of the establishment. Time is everything in 
 New York, and nothing is neglected that can possibly 
 aid in saving it. Within these magnificent edifices is 
 gathered the wealth of the world. Compared with the 
 treasures they contain, the fabled wealth of Tyre of old 
 sinks into insignificance. The private residences of the 
 city are among the handsomest in the world, and, as a 
 rule, are furnished with elegance and taste. The city 
 has all the substantial appearance of London, and a 
 large part of the brightness and beauty of Paris. It 
 is a worthy rival to either, and is in many respects their 
 superior. 
 
 New York is highly favored as regards its climate. 
 Its proximity to the sea mitigates the cold of the win- 
 ters, and the cool ocean breezes temper the fierce heats 
 of the summer In the latter season the lower part of 
 the city may be stifling, but above Thirty-fourth street, 
 and in all the upper quarters, the breeze is constant and 
 refreshing. If New York were not a great city it would 
 unquestionably be the principal watering place of the 
 continent. Snow rarely lies in its streets, and the 
 people consider themselves in high good fortune when 
 the winter is sufficiently cold to hold the snow long 
 enough to give them a few days of sleighing. 
 
 I have said that New York combines the solidity of 
 London with the beauty of Paris. Over it hangs a sky 
 
MORTALITY. 
 
 37 
 
 bluer and clearer than that of Italy. Days will pass 
 without a cloud to mar the calm blue depths above, and 
 against this exquisite background the spires and domes 
 of the city stand out as clear and sharply defined as if 
 cut on a cameo. 
 
 Possessing such a climate, drained by such broad, 
 deep rivers, New York cannot be other than healthy. 
 The death rate compares favorably with that of other 
 cities. It is largest during the summer months. At 
 this period children swell the list of deaths to a high 
 figure. The great infantile mortality occurs ' in the 
 tenement districts. The largest number of deaths oc- 
 cur from diarrhoeal disease. The New York Tribune^ 
 some time since, thus summed up the most interesting 
 facts in relation to this subject, as gained from a report 
 of the Board of Health . — 
 
 **The great infantile mortality occurs mainly in the 
 tenement districts. The largest number of cases of 
 death from diarrhoeal disease have been reported from 
 the Nineteenth Ward. The Thirteenth, Fourteenth, 
 Sixteenth, Twenty-first, Twenty-second, and Twenty- 
 fourth Wards follow closely. The other Wards have 
 been comparatively free from deaths of this sort. The 
 greatest number of cases of diarrhoeal disease have 
 been found in tenements containing from eight to ten 
 families, but the location has had considerable influence 
 upon the death rate. Very few if any cases of death 
 from this cause have been reported from houses con- 
 taining only one family. A prominent physician said 
 recently that poverty and neglect are the true causes 
 of the large mortality among children under five years 
 of age. The hard times and the scarcity of work com- 
 
38 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 pel the mothers to search for work, to labor from morn 
 ing until night in order to obtain the means of bare 
 subsistence. The infant, at the most critical time of its 
 life, is left to the uncertain care of one of the other 
 children, and is sure to be neglected. It is scantily fed, 
 and what food it gets is of such a bad quality that in- 
 stead of nourishing it only irritates the alimentary canal. 
 The hot weather attacks, with its debilitating influences, 
 the poorly fed, weakened constitution of the neglected 
 child, and it is hurried into its grave. 
 
 " There is a large part of this city — that covering the 
 central division of the island, between Third and Eighth, 
 avenues — which is considered by physicians to be as 
 healthy as any part of this country. This quarter is 
 well-drained, and there are very few tenements within 
 its boundaries. The mortality in this district has always 
 been very small. There have been very few cases of 
 diphtheria or smallpox reported within its limits, and 
 hardly any deaths from diarrhoeal diseases. On the east 
 side of the city tenements are thickly planted, some of 
 them being crowded with more than fifty families. 
 Here the deaths from diarrhoeal diseases reach an ap- 
 palling number. The infants three months old die in 
 hosts, and those from nine to twelve months of age, to- 
 gether with those who are passing through the period 
 of dentition, perish in large numbers. On the west 
 side of the city, also, there are many large and badly 
 constructed tenements, where the mortality has always 
 been very great in hot weather. 
 
 ''Physicians who attend the sick in the tenements give 
 pitiful statements of poverty and want that prevail so 
 largely. One physician said that he had a case where 
 
UPWARD GROWTH OF THE CITY. 
 
 39 
 
 the infant each day was fed upon only one tablespoon- 
 ful of condensed milk dissolved in a quart of water. 
 It lived upon this daily supply for six months, growing 
 thinner daily, and then died. The mothers, he added, 
 are not able to supply their offspring with natural food, 
 in which case the infant is fed upon condensed milk, 
 for they are so poorly fed themselves that they can give 
 little nourishment to their children. In either case, 
 what should be nourishment is only an irritant, and the 
 child dies of some one of the many forms of diarrhoeal 
 disease. In the tenement districts it is easy to point 
 out the infants that are rapidly passing into their graves 
 from the want of proper nourishment. Their faces 
 look pinched and drawn. Besides the want of proper 
 nourishment, neglect of cleanliness and want of suit- 
 able clothing add to the other causes that are hurrying 
 so many to death." 
 
 New York grows rapidly. In spite of the trying 
 times that have afflicted the whole country since the 
 panic of 1873, the cit^^ has grown steadily, and has 
 improved in a marked degree. One of the most not- 
 able features of this growth is the upward tendency of 
 the new structures. Land is so dear that property 
 owners endeavor to build as lofty edifices as their 
 means will permit, in order to offset the lack of ground 
 and space. An old resident of the city writes as fol- 
 lows concerning this feature of New York architecture: 
 
 "The manner in which New York city has grown 
 upward, or rather skyward, during the past ten and 
 Mt^^vi years, has heretofore attracted the attention of 
 visitors to the American metropolis. It is just now a 
 subject of considerable discussion among architects 
 
40 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 and builders, who are busily engaged in drawing plans 
 for numerous new buildings to be erected within the 
 city precincts during the coming twelve months, now 
 that labor and material are cheaper than they have 
 been for several years. This growth of New York in 
 altitude is particularly noticeable in the lower part of 
 the city, from the Battery to Canal street, where high 
 buildings, averaging ninety to one hundred feet, have 
 taken the place of small structures and of those not 
 higher than forty-five to fifty feet. Some eight years 
 ago, as one looked from the ferry-boats of either the 
 North or East River, or from the bay, the then new 
 Herald Building, on Broadway, towered many feet 
 above the mass of adjoining structures. Now it is in- 
 distinguishable from either point named, the neighbor- 
 ing buildings entirely overshadowing it. 
 
 "This growth of New York thus illustrated in height 
 is attributed by the architects to the high price at which 
 «ach foot of real estate is held all over the island, and 
 notably in the lower section of the city; but it has also 
 been greatly facilitated by the use of elevators, which 
 enable some of the most prominent firms to occupy 
 offices on the fourth and fifth floors, and even higher 
 floors, where only a few years ago they would not en- 
 tertain the idea of asking their customers to call upon 
 them above the second story. This "mania" for high 
 buildings, which the architects as yet regard only* in its 
 infancy, is, however, not original with New York; the 
 new part of the city of Edinburgh, in Scotland, being 
 full of buildings ten and eleven' stories high. There, 
 however, the stories do not average over nine feet, 
 while high basements and ^ub-cellars, like those of New 
 
ARCHITECTURAL CHANGES. 
 
 41 
 
 York, are unknown. Old architects state that they caa 
 hardly conceive the wonderful changes, wrought mainly 
 by their own hands, on taking a retrospect of the city 
 of their youth, and they stand amazed at the giant 
 structures rising all over the city to take the place of 
 buildings which less than twenty years ago were con- 
 sidered ornaments of New York. Forty years ago, 
 when Griffith Thomas arrived in New York, he says he 
 found only two architects here, Messrs. Dacon and 
 Davis. To-day there are about five hundred architects 
 in this city ; and the practice, then quite general, of a 
 builder's making his own plans and designs is entirely 
 abandoned. Thirty years ago Mr. Renwick, then only 
 twenty- three years old, built Grace Church, at Tenth 
 street and Broadway, as the building, forty feet high, 
 formerly occupied by that congregation at Rector street 
 and Broadway had to be changed into offices; it was 
 in 1846 that Dr. Wainwright and Dr. Taylor preached 
 their last sermons in the old church, which was soon 
 changed to an eighty-feet building. In the immediate 
 vicinity of the old Grace Church used to stand Bunker's. 
 Hotel, a well-known landmark of the time. It was 
 surrounded by buildings all three stories high ; to-day 
 not a vestige remains of any of these small buildings, 
 and the lower part of Broadway is filled with structures 
 ranging from six to seven stories. One of the highest 
 residences of New York, on Broadway, at the time 
 named was the house occupied by John F. Delaplaine. 
 It was forty-five feet high, and considerably over- 
 shadowed the adjoining two-story residence. The 
 ground is to-day occupied by what is known as the 
 Exchange Building, at Nos. 78 and 80 Broadway, which 
 
42 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 is filled with offices, and is not less than eighty-five feet 
 high. The Franklin House — which was considered a 
 rather high building, being sixty feet in height — at Dey 
 street, and Broadway, has had to make room for the 
 building of the Western Union Telegraph Company, 
 which is one hundred and sixty feet in height to the 
 roof (the tower being two hundred and thirty feet 
 above the sidewalk). On the other side of Broadway, 
 the Park Bank Building, ninety-five feet high, has now 
 for several years overlapped The Herald office, and 
 these two again have been recently overtopped by the 
 nine-story building of The Evening Post. 
 
 "On the side streets, the same principle of building 
 upward appears to have guided the various improve- 
 ments, even the old Tontine Building, at Wall and Wa- 
 ter streets, having been raised fifteen feet higher than 
 it was formerly, when the old coffee-house attracted the 
 attention and the cash of old New Yorkers. The staid 
 old Bank of New York, at William and Wall streets,, 
 where Commodore Vanderbilt could always be found at 
 certain hours of the day, during his latter years, is now 
 a six-story building, where before only two stories were 
 considered ample accommodation for all those trans- 
 acting business within its walls. The Drexel Building, 
 at Broad and Wall streets, with its high basement and 
 seven stories, looms up gigantically on the spot where 
 only a few years ago stood an unpretending three-story 
 building — which, however, was sold for the highest price 
 ever paid for real estate in New York — while the Stock 
 Exchange, right across Broad street, is fully eighty-five 
 feet high, and has taken the place of a number of brick 
 stores thirty feet less in height. The beautiful white 
 
EVENING POST BUILDING. 
 
NEW YORK. 
 
 marble building at Nos. 50 and 52 Wall street, is now 
 eighty feet high, while it measured only sixty a few 
 years bap k ; while the Union Bank, at Pine and William 
 streets, has had its height increased twenty feet. The 
 Metropolitan Bank, on the corner of Pine street, is 
 
 odd-fellows' hall. 
 
 building eighty feet high, and stands upon a lot previ- 
 ously occupied by a house of fifty feet. 
 
 "The corner of Leonard street and Broadway used 
 to be marked by the old Athenaeum, with its peculiar 
 pillars and low ceilings. Messrs. Appleton had their 
 
STATELY BUILDINGS. 45 
 
 place of business there' for some time, and removed to 
 njake room for the stately building now owned and 
 occupied by the New York Life Insurance Company. 
 This building, erected by Thomas and finished in 1868, 
 has four stories in front and eight in the back, and part 
 of it stands on very high ground. The Knickerbocker 
 Life Insurance Company's building on the corner of 
 
 KEW YORK LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY'S BUILDING. 
 
 Park Place is ninety-five feet high, and has taken 
 the place of some four-story brick houses, where the 
 Mechanics' Library Association, in times past, kept its 
 books and held its meetings. 
 
 " But not only are there high buildings occupied by 
 public institutions, insurance companies, banks, and 
 newspaper offices; throughout the lower part of the 
 
46 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 city there are many buildings six and seven, often eight 
 stories high, used as warehouses, especially by dry 
 goods firms. In Walker street, between Cortlandt 
 alley and Elm street, are several six and seven-story 
 buildings on the ground where once stood the St 
 Matthew's (German Lutheran) Church. The stores at 
 Nos. 555 and 557 Broadway, ninety feet high, have 
 taken the place of several very diminutive establish- 
 ments, and the upholsterers' warehouse of Sloane and 
 Solomon are also ninety feet high, instead of the three 
 story buildings of fifteen years ago. Baxter's high 
 building of six stories and mansard roof, at Canal and 
 Mulberry streets, has taken the place of numerous 
 small shanties, which looked anything but attractive 
 before East Canal street was made the street it is to-day. 
 On the spot where Samuel Ward, " the King of the 
 Lobby," was born, in the two-story and attic building 
 erected by his father, John Ward, is now the establish- 
 ment of Brooks Brothers, fully ninety-five feet high, 
 
 "The corner of Fourteenth street and Union Square, 
 where once stood the residence of the late Judge Roose* 
 velt's brother, fifty feet in height, is now occupied by 
 the Domestic Building, which is one hundred and twelve 
 feet high. A few doors west, the new building of the 
 Wheeler and Wilson Manufacturing Company, one 
 hundred feet high, has taken the place of the Old 
 Maison Doree, which was a low building not over forty- 
 five feet in height. Tiffany's store, at Fifteenth street 
 and Union Square, with its roof ninety feet from the 
 sidewalk, fills the place formerly occupied by the Rev, 
 Dr. Cheever's Church — the Church of the Puritans — 
 the roof of which was only thirty-five feet from the 
 
DOMESTIC SEWTXG MACHINE BUIT.DING. 
 
48 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 ground. Across the Square, on the corner of Eas? 
 Fourteenth street, the German Savings Bank building 
 of ninety feet, with its mansard and high basement, 
 has replaced the old Belvidere Hotel, while a block 
 further up, on the corner of East Fifteenth street, the 
 
 Union Square Hotel, 
 remodeled, has had forty 
 feet added to its height. 
 The building owned by 
 the Singer Sewing Ma- 
 chine Company, at East 
 Sixteenth street and 
 Union Square, is nearly 
 one hundred feet high, 
 while looking beyond 
 the Square, the eye 
 takes in at once the 
 prominent store of Ar- 
 nold, Constable & Co., 
 filling the entire block 
 between Eighteenth 
 and Nineteenth streets, 
 on the ground where 
 only a very few years 
 ago stood nothing but 
 two-story shanties. 
 " Further up town the 
 Stevens Apartment House, at Twenty-seventh street 
 and Fifth avenue, attracts attention by its extraordinary 
 height, one hundred and ten feet, where before stood 
 only three and four-story houses, and on the corner of 
 Forty-seventh street a number of three-stor)^ houses 
 
 TRIBUNE BUILDING. 
 
t 
 
 REMARKABLE HEIGHT OF BUILDINGS. 49 
 
 have made room for Brewster's high factory, of eighty 
 feet. It is doubtful if any new buildings up town will 
 surpass in height the new Roman Catholic Cathedral, 
 which is one hundred and forty-five feet to the top of 
 the roof. 
 
 In order to show the upward progress made in the 
 ' growth of New York during the past ten years, build- 
 ings like the Fifth Avenue Hotel, Grand Opera House, 
 
 Claflin's Warehouses, and others, have been omiu-ed 
 from this enumeration. These were erected at inter- 
 vals, and not in such rapid succession, as, for instance, 
 the Equitable Life Building with its one hundred and 
 sixty-four feet of height, 'The Tribune Building* of 
 one hundred and seventy-one feet, 'The Evening Post,* 
 with its nine stories, 'The Staats-Zeitung,' with its 
 one hundred feet, and the building of the Delaware 
 
 4 
 
50 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 and Hudson Canal Company, in Cortlandt street 
 All these, taken in connection with those mentioned 
 above, have fully doubled the capacity of New York for 
 accommodating all those who desire to transact business 
 within its borders, while at the same time not an inch 
 more ground has been taken for that purpose than was 
 the case before this increase in altitude set in. On the ^ 
 contrary, it is believed that, owing to the widening of 
 streets, like South Fifth avenue and New Church street, 
 as well as New Chambers street and the New Bowery, 
 there is actually to-day less ground occupied by build- 
 mgs, small and large, down town, than fifteen years ago. 
 And yet there is considerably more room for all pur^ 
 poses of business." 
 
RAPID GROWTH IN POPULATION. 
 
 51 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PEOPLE OF NEW YORK. 
 
 SVPULATION OF NEW YORK IN 187O— THE STATE CENSUS OF 1875— WHAT CHANGES IT SHOWHI>— POPtV 
 
 IJVTION IN 1880 POPULATION AFFECTED BY THE IMPROVEMENTS IN THE LOWER PART OF THB 
 
 CITY— THE MOST DENSELY SETTLED PART OF NEW YORK — THE FLOATING POPULATION — 
 
 STRANGERS IN NEW YORKr— FOREIGN DISTRICTS COSMOPOLITAN CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE 
 
 CHARACTERISTICS OF NEW YORKERS — L.\CK OF PUBLIC SPIRIT— INDIFFERENCE TO POLITI- 
 CAL AFFAIRS — THE RESULT — THE RACE FOR WEALTH — HOW BUSINESS IS DONE IN NEW YORK — 
 WEARING OUT BODY AND SOUL — A PHILOSOPHICAL MERCHANT — A NEW COMER'S IMPRESSIONS 
 — LIVING TOO FAST— NO CHANCE FOR LAGGARDS — HOW SUCCESS IS WON— MERIT THE TEST — 
 
 NEW YORK FROM A MORAL POINT OF VIEW — ITS CHARITIES AND BENEVOLENCE TOLERATION 
 
 OF OPINIONS AND BELIEFS — MENTAL CULTURE OF THE PEOPLE — WHAT IT COSTS TO LIVE III 
 NEW YORK — THE RICH AND THE MIDDLE CLASSES— NEW YORK AS A PLACE OF RESIDENCE-- 
 ATTACHMENT OF THE PEOPLE TO THE CITY. 
 
 According- to the Ninth Census of the United States 
 the population of New York in 1870 was 973,106 souls. 
 This return was not satisfactory to the citizens of the 
 Metropolis, who claimed that it greatly under-estimated 
 the actual number of residents. In the summer of 1875 
 a census of the city was taken, by order of the Legis- 
 lature of the State. This enumeration showed the 
 population in that year to be 1,064,272, an increase of 
 91,166 inhabitants since 1870. In 1880, the Tenth Cen- 
 sus of the United States gave the population as 1,209, 
 
 561. 
 
 The census of 1875 deeply interesting, imper- 
 
 fect as it was conceded to be. It showed many changes 
 in various portions of the city, recording a gain for 
 some sections and a decrease for others. The falling 
 off was mainly in the. lower wards, where business 
 houses predominate. In the strictly commercial quar- 
 ters dwellings are very rare, and the population is made 
 Up almost entirely of janitors and their families, who 
 
52 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 occupy the upper floors of business houses and public 
 buildings. The population of the Sixth Ward was 
 shown to be iioo less in 1875 than in 1870. In 1880 
 it had regained about 150 of its loss. This is one of 
 the most wretched and wicked sections of the city; "the 
 Five Points " is its centre. For some years it has been 
 improving in character, though the Five Points " and • 
 Baxter street are bad enough yet. During the past 
 ten or twelve years many of its old haunts have been 
 broken up, numerous factories and business establish- 
 ments have been erected on their sites, and Worth 
 street has been widened and opened from Broadway to 
 the Bowery, making a clear, wide path through what 
 was once an eyesore to the city and a chosen haunt of 
 vice and crime. In 1875 the greatest increase was in 
 the wards adjoining the Central Park, in which the gain 
 was over fifty thousand, and in 1880 the increase was 
 proportionally larger. This is accounted for by the 
 steady up-town movement of the population, which will 
 no doubt be greatly accelerated by the elevated rail- 
 roads, which now bring all parts of the city within easy 
 and rapid reach of each other. The largest increase 
 of all, in 1875, was in the Nineteenth Ward, which lies 
 east of the Sixth avenue, and between Fortieth and 
 Eightieth streets. In 1870 the population of this 
 ward was 86,090, in 1875 it was 125,196, showing an 
 increase of 39,106 in five years. In 1880 it had reached 
 the enormous figure of 158,108 inhabitants, thus gain- 
 ing 32,912 people since 1875, 72,018 in ten years. 
 
 The most densely populated portion of New York 
 is the region embraced in the Seventh, Tenth, and 
 Thirteenth wards, which lie upon either side of East 
 
ACTUAL POPULATION OF THE CITY. 
 
 53 
 
 Broadway and Grand street, in the extreme lower part 
 of the city, and cover a comparatively small area. In 
 1870 these wards contained 119,603 inhabitants, and a 
 further increase seemed impossible, so densely were 
 they packed. Yet in 1875 the population numbered 
 124,093, and in 1880 it was 135,456. It is believed 
 that some of the blocks within this section are more 
 densely populated than those of any European city. 
 Yet in ten years the increase of the district was 
 15.843- 
 
 The census of 1875, as has been said, did not fairly 
 represent the population of the city at that time. It 
 was taken in the summer, when large numbers of peo- 
 ple were absent, and it was asserted that many of the 
 persons entrusted with making enumerations were 
 incompetent to their task. The census of 1880 was 
 taken with more care, and more faithfully represents 
 the actual number of inhabitants. 
 
 In a fair estimate of the people of New York, one 
 must add to the number of actual residents, the stran- 
 gers temporarily residing in the metropolis, and the im- 
 mense number of persons who enter and leave the city 
 every day in the year. It is estimated that there are more 
 than seventy thousand strangers from distant parts of 
 the country temporarily sojourning in New Yo-rk at all 
 periods of the year. Thousands of persons doing busi- 
 ness in the City, and residing in the suburbs, are not 
 counted in the population. They come from Brooklyn 
 and Long Island, from Staten Island, from the main- 
 land of New York, from New Jersey, and even from 
 Connecticut. They crowd the trains and the ferry 
 boats, and pour into the city in the morning and leave 
 
54 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 it in the afternoon, with clock-like regularity. To 
 these also must be added the persons of both sexes and 
 all ages, who come into the city to do a day's shopping, 
 or to attend the matinees of the theatres and other 
 places of amusement, or to visit friends. It is estimated 
 that at high noon, on any fair day during the season, 
 the Island of New York contains at least two millions 
 of people. 
 
 In 1880 the native population was 727,743, and the 
 foreign 478,834. 
 
 The annual number of births in New York is about 
 40,000. The number of deaths in 1880 was 31,937. 
 
 The foreign classes generally congregate in distinct 
 quarters of the city, which they seem to regard as their 
 own, as they constitute the majority of the dwellers in these 
 iiections, and give to them their leading characteristics. 
 In certain portions, whole blocks may be found in which 
 English is rarely heard, the dwellers using the tongues 
 of their native countries in their intercourse with each 
 3ther, and having little communication with theil' 
 neighbors. 
 
 The people of New York represent every nation- 
 jnlity upon the globe, and thus give to the city the cos- 
 mopolitan character which is one of its most prominent 
 features. But no city on the continent is so thoroughly 
 American as this. The native population is the ruling 
 element, and makes the great city what it is, whether 
 for good or for evil. The children and grandchildren 
 of foreigners soon lose their old world ideas and habits, 
 and the third generation sees them as genuine and de- 
 voted Americans as any on the Island. 
 
 The besetting sin of the people of New York is their 
 
THE RACE FOR WEALTH. 
 
 55 
 
 lack of public spirit. The race for wealth, the very 
 struggle for existence, is so eager and intense here, 
 that the people think little of public affairs, and leave 
 their city government, with all its vast interests, in the 
 hands of a few professional politicians. They pay 
 dearly for this neglect of such important interests. 
 They are taxed and plundered by rings and tricksters, 
 and are forced to bear burdens and submit to losses 
 which could be avoided by a more patriotic and sen- 
 sible treatment of their affairs. Business men here re- 
 gard the time spent in casting their votes at the polls, 
 or in arranging a political canvass so that good men 
 only shall be secured for public officers, as so much 
 time lost. They say they cannot afford to take it from 
 their business. The result is they are put to greater 
 loss by unnecessary and unjust taxes. 
 
 The race for wealth is a very exciting one in the 
 great city. The interests at stake are so vast, the 
 competition so constant and close, that men are com- 
 pelled to be on the watch all the time, and to work 
 with rapidity and almost without rest. Business hours 
 are from nine until five. In the larger establishments 
 but little is done after four o'clock, except at certain 
 seasons. During these seven or eight hours the work 
 of twenty-four is done. Every nerve, every muscle, 
 every power and faculty of body and mind, is taxed to 
 the utmost to discharge the duty of the day. Go into 
 any of the large establishments of the city during busi- 
 ness hours, and you will be amazed at the ceaseless 
 rush and push of clerks and customers. It is one un- 
 ending drive. Everything must be finished up to the 
 closing hour, so that the morrow may be begun with a 
 
■ 66 NEW YORK. 
 
 series of new and clear transactions. Merchants from 
 other cities coming into these establishments to •make 
 purchases, find themselves caught in this whirl of work, 
 and are carried along and made to decide questions 
 and make purchases with a rapidity utterly unknown 
 to them in their own homes. 
 
 Two merchants from a Western city met one nighty 
 not long since, in the sitting-room of the St. Nicholas 
 Hotel. 
 
 How do you get on with your purchases?" asked 
 one of the other. 
 
 I am through buying," was the reply. 
 
 "Going home to-morrow, then, I suppose?" 
 
 " No ; I shall not do so for several days yet. The 
 truth is I am tired, and I want to rest. I used to go 
 back home as soon as I had finished my business here, 
 and when I got there I invariably found myself too 
 tired to do anything for several days. I couldn't un- 
 derstand it. It was the same thing year after year, 
 and I set to work to think it out. I know now that it 
 is the effect of the hard work I do here in a few days. 
 I come here, stay a week, and during that time do an 
 amount of work, both physical and mental, greater 
 than I would undergo in a month at home. Now, in- 
 stead of going home as soon as I am done, I stay here 
 and rest ; go out to the Central Park, and loaf for a 
 whole afternoon ; take a ride on the steamer up the 
 East River; go down to Coney Island, or down the 
 Bay, and amuse myself in every way I can. Then I 
 go home bright and fresh, and able- to take hold of my 
 work there properly." 
 
 The clerks in the large houses of the city have a 
 
LIVING TOO FAST. . 57 
 
 weary, jaded look, always. The heads of the houses 
 have the same expression intensified. They are always 
 tired. They crowd too much work into a day. The 
 result is that New York can show comparatively few 
 old merchants or clerks. They cannot always stand 
 the strain upon them, and die off by hundreds, at a time 
 of life when they ought to be looking forward to a 
 hearty old age. 
 
 A gentleman once said to the writer of these pages : 
 *' I came to New York at the close of our civil war, to 
 seek employment. I came up the Bay from Monmouth 
 County, New Jersey, full of hope and confidence. The 
 sail up the broad blue water gave new life to this feel- 
 ing. I knew I was competent, and I was resolved to suc- 
 ceed. I landed at Pier Number One, near the Battery, 
 and taking up my valise started up town. I turned 
 into Broadway at the Bowling Green, and as I did so, 
 found myself in a steady stream of human beings, each 
 hurrying by as if his life depended upon his speed, tak- 
 ing no notice of his fellows, pushing and jostling them, 
 and each with a weary, jaded, anxious look upon his 
 face. As I gazed at this mighty torrent I was dis- 
 mayed. I got as far as Trinity Churchyard, and then 
 I put my valise upon the pavement, and leaning against 
 the railing, watched the people as they passed me by. 
 They came by hundreds, thousands, all with that eager, 
 restless gait that I now know so well, all with the weary, 
 anxious, care-worn expressjon I have mentioned, as if 
 trying to reach some distant goal within a given time. 
 They seemed to say to me, 'We would gladly stop if we 
 could, and rest by the way ; but we must go on, on, and 
 know no rest.' I asked myself, ' What chance have I 
 
58 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 here ? Can I keep up with this eager, restless throng, or 
 will they pass me, and leave me behind ? ' Well," he 
 added, with a smile, " I have managed to keep up with 
 them, but I tell you it's a hard strain. We are all living 
 too fast ; we are working too hard. Instead of taking 
 a leisurely stroll to our business in the morning, we 
 rush down town at a furious pace. We grind, grind at 
 our treadmills all day, and grind too hard. We bolt 
 our meals in a fourth of the time we should give to 
 them ; we rush back home at night as furiously as we 
 left it in the morning, and our evenings are spent in an 
 effort to keep up the excitement of the day. We are 
 living too fast, too hard. We break down long before 
 we should. This haste, this furious pace at which we 
 are going, at business, at pleasure, at everything, is the 
 great curse of New York life." 
 
 Now my friend's opinion is shared by hundreds, 
 thousands of the most sensible men of the city, but 
 they are powerless to save themselves from the curse 
 they know to be upon them. Should they attempt to 
 go more slowly, to live more reasonably, they would be 
 left behind in the race for wealth ; they would fail in 
 their hopes and plans. So they must join the crowd, 
 and rush on and on, seeking the glittering prize of 
 wealth and fame, well knowing all the time that, in all 
 probability, when they have grasped it tired nature will 
 give way and leave them incapable of enjoying it, if 
 indeed they do not die before attaining their end. 
 
 The common opinion that New York is the paradise 
 of humbugs and tricksters is untrue. These people 
 do abound here, beyond, a doubt ; but they are short- 
 lived. They flourish to-day and are gone to-morrow. 
 
MERIT WINS IN NEW YORK. 
 
 59 
 
 They take no root, and have no hold upon any genuine 
 interest ; they attain no permanent success. It is only 
 genuine merit that succeeds in the great city. Men are 
 here subjected to a test that soon takes the conceit 
 out of them. They are taken for just what they are 
 worth, and no more, and he must show himself a man 
 indeed who would take his place among the princes of 
 trade, or among the leaders of thought and opinion. 
 He may bring with him from his distant home the 
 brightest of reputations, but here he will have to begin 
 at the very bottom of the ladder and mount upward 
 again. It is slow work, so slow that it tries every 
 quality of true manhood to its utmost. The daily life 
 of the dwellers in the great city makes them keen, 
 i?hrewd judges of human nature, and they are pro- 
 ficients in the art of studying character. 
 . It is said that New York is the wickedest city in the 
 country. It is the largest, and vice thrives in crowded 
 communities. How great this wickedness is we may 
 see in the subsequent portions of this work. Yet, if it 
 is the wickedest city, it is also the best on the Conti- 
 nent. If it contains thousands of the worst men and 
 women in our land, it contains also thousands of the 
 brightest and best of Christians. In point of morality, 
 it will compare favorably with any city in the world. 
 It is unhappily true that the devil's work is done here 
 upon a large scale ; but so is the work of God, upon 
 an even greater scale. If the city contains the gaudi-, 
 est, the most alluring, and the vilest haunts of sin, it 
 also boasts the noblest and grandest institutions of 
 religion, of charity, and virtue. Being the great centre 
 
60 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 of wealth and culture, New York is also the centre of 
 everything that is good and beautiful in life. 
 
 In its charities, New York is, as in other respects, 
 the leading city of the Continent. It maintains its own 
 charitable and benevolent institutions with a liberality, 
 and upon a scale of magnificence and comfort, 
 unequaled in other parts of the country. It spends 
 millions to relieve suffering and disease within its own 
 limits, and at the same time lends an open ear and a ready 
 hand to the cry of distress from other quarters. There 
 is no portion of the globe to which the charity of New 
 York does not extend ; and when it gives, it gives lib* 
 erally. When the yellow fever laid its heavy hand 
 opon the Southern States during the summer of 1878, 
 it was to New York that the sufferers first turned for 
 aid ; and the Metropolis responded nobly. In the 
 course of a few months assistance in money and sup- 
 plies was sent to the amount of several hundred thous- 
 and dollars. During the recent war between Russia 
 and Turkey, New York, with characteristic liberality, 
 sent crenerous assistance to the sick and wounded of 
 both armies. When Chicago was burned, the people 
 of New York literally showered relief upon the afilicted 
 citizens of the western Metropolis. It is enough for 
 the great city to hear the cry of distress, no matter 
 froni what quarter ; its action is prompt and generous. 
 The city authorities annually expend one million of 
 dollars in public charities, while the various religious 
 denominations and charitable associations expend annu- 
 ally about five millions more. No record can be had 
 of private charities — but they are large. This is the 
 charity that begins at home. Of the aid sent to suffer- 
 
COSMOPOLITAN LIBERALITY. 
 
 61 
 
 ingf persons and communities in other parts of the 
 country no proper estimate can be made ; the sum is 
 princely, and we may be sure is recorded above. 
 
 I have spoken of the energy of the people in matters 
 of business. They are in all respects the most enter- 
 prising in the Union. While others are timid and 
 hesitating, they are bold and self-reliant. They take 
 risks in business from which others shrink, and carry 
 their ventures forward with a resolution and vigor that 
 cannot fail of success. It is this that has made the city 
 the metropolis of America. Its people take a large, 
 liberal view of matters. There is nothing narrow or 
 provincial in their way of dealing with questions. 
 They are cosmopolitan in all things. 
 
 This liberality extends to matters of opinion. Mer 
 rarely trouble themselves to inquire into a neighbor's 
 views of religion or politics, or to hold him to accoun^t 
 for them. One may think as he pleases here, and so 
 long as he observes the ordinary rules of decent living 
 he will retain his place in society. Christian, Jew, 
 Turk, Heathen, all mingle together in pleasant social 
 intercourse, careless of each other's opinions, and 
 taking each other for just what the individual man is 
 worth. And so it is in politics. The most decided 
 political antagonists may be in private life intimate 
 friends. New York cares nothing for individual opin- 
 ions. It welcomes every man, and uses him as best it 
 can. 
 
 Indeed, this indifference is carried to such an excess 
 that men often live by each other, as next-door neigh- 
 bors, for years, without interchanging salutations or 
 holding any neighborly intercourse at all. It may be 
 
62 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 said that this prevents gossip and adds to the pri- 
 vacy of one's domestic affairs; but at the same time it 
 breeds an amount of coldness between people and 
 prevents the pleasantness of neighborly intercourse, 
 which is not in all respects desirable. 
 
 In mental culture the people of New York compare 
 favorably with those of any American city. The con- 
 ditions of success in the various pursuits of life require 
 and develop the highest order of intelligence. Every 
 faculty of the human being is sharpened in the struggle 
 for mere existence. In addition to this, the surround- 
 ings of the people contribute daily and almost imper- 
 ceptibly to their culture. The magnificent streets, the 
 imposing buildings, the rare and beautiful displays in 
 the shops of the city, all go to cultivate the taste and 
 impart knowledge to the people who behold them. 
 The libraries are extensive and well patronized ; the 
 theatrical displays and other amusements are upon the 
 most elaborate and imposing scale ; and the schools 
 and educational institutions are among the most excel- 
 lent in the world. Those who have leisure for study, 
 of course, have great advantages here, but the great 
 mass of the people who have not leisure find means of 
 improvement in the sights which greet them in their 
 daily walks along the street. 
 
 All sorts of people come to New York. You may 
 watch the throng on a fair afternoon, in any of the 
 principal streets of the city, and you will see pass before 
 you representatives of every land and clime, of all pro- 
 fessions, trades and callings. 
 
 The great cost of living in New York makes it im- 
 possible for the city to number a strong middle class 
 
LACK OF A MIDDLE CLASS. 
 
 63 
 
 among its people. The very rich can afford the ex- 
 pense, since it brings them pleasures and compensations 
 they can obtain nowhere else in America for their out- 
 lay. The very poor and the laboring class huddle in 
 the tenement houses, and put up with discomfort at a 
 cost which would enable them to do far better in the 
 other cities of the country. What a workingman pays 
 for his two or three rooms in a New York tenement 
 house would give him a separate house and a comfort- 
 able home in almost any other American city. 
 
 Persons of moderate means doing business in New 
 York who desire the comforts of a home for their fami- 
 lies are, as a rule, obliged to reside out of the city. 
 They come into New York in the morning, and leave 
 it in the evening. It is a severe tax upon their strength, 
 but it enables them to enjoy the business advantages 
 of the metropolis, and at the same time to provide for 
 their families homes of comfort and taste at a cost 
 within their means, which they could not do as residents 
 of the city. 
 
 This leaves New York but a comparatively small 
 representation of the class which is the mainstay of 
 modern communities. The pauper population is large, 
 the number of those who live by manual labor is larger, 
 and against these are set the rich men of the city. The 
 class which should be strongest, and which should 
 stand as the harmonizers of the extremes we have 
 mentioned, is conspicuous by its absence. 
 
 Persons who do business in the city and reside in the 
 suburbs are subjected to many inconveniences, especi- 
 ally during the winter season. A heavy snow or a 
 dangerous storm may keep them from their business 
 
64 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 when their presence is imperatively demanded, or may 
 prevent them from reaching home at night. 
 
 As a place of residence, to those who have the moneys 
 to justify it, New York is by far the most delightful 
 home in the country. Its cosmopolitan and metropoli- 
 tan character, its glorious climate, and its thousand and 
 one attractions, added to the solid comfort one may en- 
 joy here, make it the most attractive of our great cities. 
 It possesses a peculiar charm, which all who have dwelt 
 within its borders feel and own. As a rule, the people 
 would rather be uncomfortable here than comfortable 
 elsewhere. They leave it with regret, and return to it 
 with delight whenever able to do so. 
 
CHANGES IN POPULATION, 
 
 65 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE GROWTH OF NEW YORK. 
 
 RAPID GROWTH OF NEW YORK DURING THE PAST THIRTY-FIVE YEARS — THE PLUSH TIMES AFTER 
 
 THE WAR— EFFECTS OF THE PANIC OF I873 — A MOMENTARY CHECK — RETURN OF PROS- 
 PERITY — PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE — INCREASE IN BUILDING OPERATIONS — HOW REAL 
 ESTATE APPRECIATES IN VALUE— THE SECRET OF THE GREAT INCREASE OF WEALTH IN NEW 
 YORK — FUTURE CENTRES OF POPULATION— WHAT NEW YORK WILL BE FIFTY YEARS HBNCB— 
 A GRAND DESTINY. 
 
 We have already given the population of the me- 
 tropolis according to the last three censuses, but before 
 passing on, it will be interesting to glance at the growth 
 of the city for the last thirty-five years. The United 
 States Census is taken every ten years, and shows ^ 
 marked change in every decade ; but the State Census, 
 which is taken every five years, enables us to obtain 
 a view of the movement of the city's population at 
 shorter intervals. From it we learn that, notwith- 
 standing the phenomenal growth of New York, there 
 was a period, covering the duration of our civil war, 
 when the metropolis, instead of increasing, actually de- 
 clined in population. The returns since the year 1845. 
 record the population as follows : 
 
 In 1845, 
 
 In 1850, 
 In 1855, 
 In i860, 
 1865, 
 1870, 
 
 1880, 
 
 In 
 In 
 In 
 Iti 
 
 37i»223 
 
 515.547 
 629,810 
 813,669 
 726,386 
 942,292 
 1,064,272 
 1,209,561 
 
66 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The close of the civil war marked the opening of a 
 new era of prosperity, which New York shared with 
 the rest of the country. The panic of 1873 began an- 
 other period of depression, which had its effect in 
 keeping down the city's growth. The hard times 
 drove numbers of laboring people and those in humble 
 circumstances to the West and other portions of the 
 country, to seek the rewards which the stagnation 
 of business in the great commercial centre denied 
 them. During the past two years the onward march 
 of prosperity has been resumed, and the census of 
 1880 shows a growth of 267,269 inhabitants over the 
 population of 1870, and of 145,289 over that of 1875. 
 It is confidently expected that the next five years will 
 show a still greater improvement, and should the next 
 decade be favorable to the general prosperity of the 
 country, there can be little doubt that in 1890 New 
 York will contain nearly, if not quite, two millions of 
 inhabitants. With wise foresight, the city is preparing 
 to accommodate this vast number of human beings 
 which will soon crowd its limits. What changes will 
 take place in the next ten years no one can with cer- 
 tainty predict, but it is safe to assert that 1890 will see 
 a city far more splendid, far more enterprising, and in 
 every way more worthy of the proud title of " Me- 
 tropolis," than that to which we now invite the reader's 
 attention. 
 
 Not long since, a gentleman who had carefully stud- 
 ied the progress of New York, and who, as a statistician 
 of great and acknowledged experience, is entitled to 
 speak with authority, said : " Basing my calculations on 
 tables corrected by external and internal influences 
 
CHANGES OF THE GROWTH OF THE CITY. 67 
 
 which are clearly apparent to any one giving attention 
 to the subject, I anticipate an increase in our population 
 in New York, during the next five years, of fully three 
 hundred and fifty thousand. First of all, the bad state of 
 trade in Great Britain, and the wretched poverty existing 
 among the tillers of the soil, must greatly swell the tide 
 of immigration. Moreover, we are of late getting a 
 better class of immigrants. That is because skilled 
 artisans, attracted by the glowing accounts of the bet- 
 ter wages and more liberal treatment prevailing here, 
 sent to them by fellow workmen who have already made 
 their home in the United States, are now coming out 
 here in force, and will emigrate in even larger numbers 
 as the good news is disseminated among them. These 
 men, unlike the unskilled laborers, who must needs 
 travel on to less populated States, where alone their 
 labor is in demand, will readily find a market for their 
 skilled labor in New York, and here, consequently, they 
 will make their home. Rapid transit, too, now so fully 
 developed, will not only keep the present population 
 resident in their own city, but will, I think, draw thous- 
 ands of men resident in Brooklyn, Jersey, Long Island 
 and Connecticut towns and elsewhere, whose places of 
 business are in New York, back within the city limits, " 
 The increase of the population necessarily brings an 
 increase in the means of accommodating it, and of pro- 
 viding for its various requirements. Consequently, 
 New York is rapidly growing in the number of its- 
 business edifices, its dwellings, churches, theatres, and 
 public buildings. In spite of the hard times and gene- 
 ral depression which have marked the past ten years 
 building operations have been carried on upon a gigan. 
 
68 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 tic scale. According to the returns furnished by tht 
 city authorities, the number of buildings erected from 
 1872 to 1879, was as follows: 
 
 In 1872 1,728 
 
 In 1873 1,311 
 
 In 1874 . . . . . . 1,388 
 
 In 1875 . • . . . • 1,406 
 
 In 1876 1,379 
 
 In 1877 1,432 
 
 In 1878 1,672 
 
 In 1879 2,065 
 
 In all, a total of 12,381 buildings erected in eight 
 years. 
 
 *'The first thing that strikes the eye on perusing these 
 figures," says the gentleman we have quoted, "is the 
 large increase in the number of buildings that went up 
 in 1879, as compared with previous years, during which 
 the increase of population and number of buildings 
 erected were about proportionate. Hence the activity 
 in building is clearly traceable to the general improve- 
 ment of trade and freer circulation of money that has 
 )recently taken place." On this subject, the gentleman 
 whose remarks are quoted above spoke as follows : — 
 "The erection of buildings in New York during the past 
 eight years has been carried on upon an enormous 
 scale. Mere figures give to the reader but a poor idea 
 of the vast nature of these operations. From a careful 
 calculation I have made, I find that were it possible to 
 mass in one whole all the buildings erected in New 
 York since 1872, they would cover an area equal in ex- 
 tent to the ground lying between iioth and 140th 
 
INCREASE IN BUILDING OPERATIONS. 
 
 69 
 
 streets, from Fifth to Ninth avenue inclusive, and 
 from 6oth street to iioth, between Eighth and Ninth 
 avenues. It is, in short, perfectly safe to say that 
 1 1, GOG full lots have been built upon during the period 
 indicated — considering that the Seventh regiment 
 armory alone covers thirty-two lots, and many other 
 enormous buildings have also gone up. This increase 
 of building is, I think, likely to go on indefinitely, and 
 real estate, in sympathy, will, I believe, rise greatly in 
 value. It may be advanced against the views I take 
 upon this head that no matter how great an activity 
 may prevail in building operations, there is so much 
 vacant land on hand that real estate will not greatly 
 advance in price. A very cogent argument in my favor 
 will be found in a growing disposition on the part of 
 large capitalists to buy up large pieces of land as an 
 investment, after the manner adopted by Robert Len- 
 nox, whose farm at the five-mile stone has proved such 
 a veritable El Dorado to the two generations succeed- 
 ing him. 
 
 "The following extracts from the will of Robert Len- 
 nox have, at this time, such a peculiar significance, in the 
 face of the renewed demand for real estate for building 
 operations, as to be worth reproducing. Section 9 of 
 the will, bearing date of May 23d, 1829, June 23d, 1832, 
 and October 4th, 1839, read as follows: — 
 
 " ' I give, devise and bequeath to my son, my only son, 
 James Lennox, my farm at the five-mile stone, purchased 
 in part from the Corporation of the city of New York and 
 containing about thirty acres, with all improvements, 
 stock of horses, catde and farming utensils, for and duringf 
 the term of his life, and after his death to his heirs forever. 
 
70 NEW YORK. 
 
 My motive for so leaving this property, is a firm pen 
 suasion that it may, at no distant date, be the site of a 
 village, and as it cost me much more than its present 
 worth, from circumstances known to my family, I like 
 to cherish the belief it may be realized to them. At all 
 events, I want the experiment made, by keeping the 
 property from being sold.' 
 
 " Under the second date on the will — namely, June 
 23d, 1832 — the foregoing bequest is thus modified: — 
 
 " ' Whereas, in my said will I have left my farm, situ- 
 ate in the Twelfth (formerly Ninth) ward of the city of 
 New York, near the five-mile stone, to my son, James 
 Lennox, for and during the term of his natural life, and 
 after his death to his heirs, forever ; now I do hereby 
 give and devise the said farm to my said son, James 
 Lennox, and to his heirs, forever. At the same time, 
 I wish him to understand that my opinion respecting 
 the property is not changed, and though I withdraw 
 all legal restrictions to his making sale of the whole or 
 part of the same, yet I enforce on him my advice not to 
 do so.' 
 
 " A wise man in his generation was Robert Lennox. 
 The farm at the five-mile stone originally cost the tes- 
 tator somewhere in the neighborhood of ^^40,000. 
 Early in 1864, Mr. James Lennox, the fortunate legatee 
 under the will quoted from, of the now historic farm, 
 conveyed to his nephew, Robert Lennox Kennedy, 
 the whole block between 7 2d and 73d streets, Madi- 
 ison and Fifth avenues — a block 204 feet 4 inches 
 in width on Fifth and Madison avenues and 420 feet 
 in length on each street named. The consideration 
 paid for this slice out of the golden farm was 
 
HISTORY OF THE LENNOX FARM. 
 
 71 
 
 $250,000. To Clarence S. Brown, on December nth, 
 1866, Mr. Kennedy, for $240,000, disposed of twenty 
 lots on this block, comprising the whole front on 7 2d 
 street, between Fifth and Madison avenues, and the 
 plot 120 feet 2 inches by 100 feet, on the southwest 
 corner of 73d street and Madison avenue. But four 
 years had elapsed when Clarence Brown disposed of 
 these identical lots to John Crosby Brown for $430,000. 
 
 " Not to enter into further detail," said the gentleman 
 who had furnished these particulars, " I may first add, 
 that in 1875 the farm at the five-mile stone was valued at 
 $9,000,000, without a building upon it. To-day I judge 
 that the lot on the corner of 7 2d street and Fifth avenue, 
 27 feet by 100, would fetch in the open market in the 
 neighborhood of $100,000, being more than twice as 
 much as the shrewd old Scotchman paid for the whole 
 thirty acres. At the present time the whole estate is 
 probably worth $1 2,000,000. Many brokers have con- 
 curred in the correctness of these views. Hall J. How 
 said to me, only yesterday, 'Why, Amos Clark, of 
 Boston, owns the lot on 7 2d street and Fifth avenue, 
 and he would not sell it for $100,000.' 
 
 "The late John D. Phillips was hardly so wise as the 
 owner of 'the farm at the five-mile stone.' On the 2d 
 of June, 1 85 1, he purchased of Peter McLaughlin the 
 lot on the southeast corner of 84th street and Fifth 
 avenue for $540. Tempted by the rapid rise in the 
 value of the property, Mr. Phillips sold this lot to 
 Stephen Roberts on the i8th day of August, 1853, for 
 $1900. On Thursday last this identical property was 
 purchased by George Kemp for $40,000. I wonder 
 if it ever occurs to capitalists that, in the long run, more 
 
72 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 money can be made out of things of substance than 
 things of paper — certificates representing the Manhat- 
 tan shares, for example ? If it does not, let them in- 
 quire of those foolish Senators who rushed in where 
 angels never tread — to wit, the Board of Brokers. In 
 real estate operations, loaded dice cannot well be em- 
 ployed, and midnight decrees doubling its value are 
 things unheard of; and it might be well for our million- 
 aires to remember that the Legislature, forced on by 
 public sentiment, manifests a disposition to lessen the 
 burdens that have hitherto fallen upon real estate, by 
 forcing the corporations to bear their fair share of the 
 expense of government. I would observe, en passant^ 
 that the corporations of Pennsylvania pay almost the 
 whole amount of the State taxes. Says the Attorney- 
 General of that State: 'The greater portion of the 
 revenues of Pennsylvania are derived from the taxes 
 levied on corporations.' 
 
 " All my observations lead me to the conclusion that 
 building operations will be carried on still more exten- 
 sively during the next few years. 
 
 "I am strongly impressed with the belief that the 
 west side of the city will be the locality wherein the 
 greatest activity in building will manifest itself. The 
 fashionable locality bounded by 6oth and 90th streets, 
 and Madison and Fourth and Fifth avenues, is now 
 pretty well built up, and within a couple of years 
 or so will, I imagine, be completely covered. Again, 
 the recent enormous rise in prices of lots in the fash- 
 ionable eastern districts will cause builders to at 
 least ponder over Horace Greeley's advice as to 
 going West. That portion of the city will, I thinks 
 
THE FUTURE OF THE WEST SIDE. 
 
 73 
 
 prove the home of the well-to-do class of the fu- 
 ture. I understand that the series of large buildings 
 recently erected by Mr. Edward Clark, of sewing 
 machine fame, on the north side of 73d street, be- 
 tween Ninth and Tenth avenues, are already all rented 
 on good terms. Mr. Clark is a large owner of lots in 
 this particular locality. These and other projected 
 and already begun building operations on the west 
 side will encourage other extensive property holders 
 and capitalists to invest largely in similar enterprises. 
 The natural advantages of the western side, comprising 
 the peerless riverside drive, with its panoramic views of 
 the Hudson, the Palisades, Jersey, and its glimpses of 
 the sea, and its health-giving breezes from the moun- 
 tains, the Boulevards, Manhattan Square and the Morn- 
 ingside Park, combine to render this western portion 
 of our city a highly desirable place of residence. By 
 reason of bill No. 206, that has recently passed the 
 Senate, Morningside Park — hitherto a park only on 
 paper — will speedily be transformed into ' a thing of 
 beauty and a joy forever.' It is to be at once graded, 
 and the approaches appropriately arranged; and better 
 still, the bill provides that $150,000 shall at once be 
 spent by the Department in its cultivation and adorn- 
 ment. By the ist of May, too, the squatters — whose 
 rudely constructed huts in various stages of dilapida- 
 tion and decay are at present notable disfigurements of 
 the district — will disappear, as the property owners have 
 recently combined with the view of effecting this desir- 
 able reformation. The superior equipments, too, of the 
 western elevated road, the better class of passengers 
 using the cars, and the convenient situation and frequent 
 
74 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 recurrence of the stations, are all important factors in 
 enhancing the growing popularity of the western dis* 
 trict as a residential suburb. 
 
 " Riding over the western elevated road, as the eye 
 rests upon the little groups of houses and cottages, 
 clinging, tendril-like, around the stations of the elevated 
 road, anywhere above, say, 125th street, one is forcibly ' 
 reminded of the words of Victor Hugo. Writing of the 
 populating effects of railroads on the suburbs of Paris, 
 in 'Les Miserables,* he says: * Whenever a station is 
 built on the skirts of a city, it is the death of a 
 suburb and the birth of a town.' Those who had 
 the courage to invest their money in real estate in 
 the worst of time (about eighteen months ago), have 
 been enabled in many instances to dispose of their, 
 purchases at prices almost approaching, and in some 
 instances actually exceeding, the prices prevailing in 
 1872-73, and have reason to exclaim with Mac- 
 beth : — 
 
 «* * Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward 
 To where they were before.' " 
 
 About a year ago, the New York Herald, in a care- 
 fully-prepared paper, thus predicted the future of New 
 York:— 
 
 " The growth and development of this city are with- 
 out a parallel and without a precedent. Its future has 
 been often prophesied, but not always understood. 
 When we undertake to trace the causes that have led 
 to its commercial supremacy, and those that are now 
 operating to increase its prosperity, we are met by 
 singular and fortuitous circumstances, which it was im- 
 possible to foresee, and not easy to comprehend. One 
 
THE CITY IN OLDEN TIME. 
 
 75 
 
 thing is, however, certain, that the anticipations of the 
 most sanguine have always been more than realized, 
 while the prognostications of the doubtful have only 
 been remembered for their fallacy. 
 
 "The progressive growth of the city has been often 
 capricious, so far as locality is concerned, but the im- 
 portant factor of topography has always asserted itself, 
 in spite of all efforts to ignore it in the interests of in- 
 dividual projects. Going back to the early settlement 
 and Dutch supremacy, we find both commerce and 
 social life progressing along the east side of the city, 
 on the line of what is now Pearl street, where the 
 Dutch burgher sat on his ' stoop,' with his long pipe, 
 and held social commune with his neighbor over the 
 way. The early occupation of that section was due to 
 the fact that from the east side of the city, on account 
 of the prevailing winds, sailing vessels may always be 
 got under way more readily than from the west side, 
 where it is often impossible for a vessel to leave her 
 berth without the aid of a tug. When the English oc- 
 cupation took place, the Dutch had already monopo- 
 lized the east side of the city, as far up as the ' Bouw- 
 erie,' or Bowery, including the Stuyvesant meadows — 
 Peter Stuyvesant himself owning a large tract, where 
 is now the Stuyvesant Park. The natural social and 
 business antagonism between the Dutch and English 
 necessitated the selection of a new locality on the part 
 of the latter, and Broadway became the choice, where 
 were erected the English churches — Trinity and St. 
 Paul — and here the Eno-Hsh merchants built their resi- 
 dences and their stores. The Dutch churches were' in 
 Fulton and Nassau streets, and as the religious ele- 
 
76 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 mentj especially in small communities, is always an 
 important factor in social life, we find two distinct cen- 
 tres of civic progress developing themselves, and main- 
 tained with great energy and determination for many 
 years. The topographical advantages were, however, 
 in favor of the English, and the building up of New 
 York along the line of Broadway, the 'backbone' of 
 the island, was the result. But time and prosperity 
 causing a rapid increase of population, the city as- 
 sumed a cosmopolitan character, local religious or 
 social influences ceased to have the same force that 
 they formerly exerted, and new influences arose to de- 
 termine the direction and character of the city's growth. 
 Yet no one anticipated then, or for years afterward, 
 what the city might become. There are many persons 
 still living who can remember Canal street as out of 
 town, where they went for a day's shooting in its 
 swampy surroundings, or to fish from the' bridge that 
 spanned the sluggish stream on Broadway ; and there 
 are at present residents of Fourteenth street who were 
 once regarded with amazement by their friends, for es- 
 tablishing their homes in such a remote locality. Yet 
 the city has continued to grow, the centre of active 
 trade shifting from place to place as the city extended 
 itself. This has been especially the case with the dry 
 goods trade, which at one time centred itself in Pearl 
 street, in the old homes of the Dutch, shifting thence 
 to lower Broadway, afterward occupying the streets 
 running from that thoroughfare on the west side, most 
 of which were widened from forty to sixty feet to make 
 accommodations for this rapidly-increasing trade, and 
 were lined with fine marble buildings, soon, however. 
 
CHANGES IN THE CITY. 
 
 77 
 
 to be abandoned for Church street, middle Broadway, 
 and the streets connecting them, where it now rests for 
 a season. Other Hnes of trade have apparently fol- 
 lowed in the wake, and occupied the localities deserted 
 by the jobbing trade, leaving no vacancies, but filling 
 up, as it were, the interstices as fast as they were 
 made ; but from the ver)^ force of numbers and the 
 great bulk of this business, the dry-goods traders have 
 always led the way. On the other hand, in the devel- 
 opment of the area appropriated for the purposes of 
 residences, the governing elements have been of an en- 
 tirely different character. Any one who will take the 
 pains to examine, from one decade to another, the pro- 
 gressive northward extension of the building limits, 
 will observe a remarkable fluctuation, similar to the 
 irregular and spasmodic lines that indicate on a dia- 
 gram the rise and fall of gold during the inflation 
 period At one time, this line runs forward along the 
 course of Second avenue, leaving all others behind. 
 Again, the extension is transferred to Seventh avenue, 
 which in 1844 was far ahead of all others. At another 
 period it advanced with great rapidity on the line of 
 Third avenue, which has distanced all competitors and 
 prolonged itself to Harlem. With the better class of 
 residences. Fifth avenue rushed onward, leaving Madi- 
 son avenue behind, in quite an insignificant position; 
 but again Madison avenue takes up the race, and has 
 now outstripped Fifth avenue. 
 
 *' These apparently capricious fluctuations are due to 
 such obvious causes that, instead of being singular, they 
 are directly the reverse, since, with the circumstances 
 that brought about these results, it would have been re- 
 
78 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 markable had they been otherwise. Take, for instance^ 
 Second avenue. An extensive tract in this locaHty be- 
 longed to the heirs of the Stuyvesant estate, many of 
 whom had sufficient means to erect expensive struc- 
 tures for their own residences, and encouraged others 
 to do the same in their vicinity. The consequence was, 
 that for a time many first-class improvements were 
 made in the neighborhood of Stuyvesant Square, and 
 along that region of the avenue alluded to. But the 
 disposition to erect fine buildings in that section soon 
 passed away, and it has never gone beyond an oasis of 
 respectability in a desert of mediocrity. Again, St. 
 Mark's place was selected by an enterprising citizen as 
 an exclusive faubourg, but it proved a mere halting 
 place of fashion. Bondstreet was another effort, where 
 enough gentlemen of taste and means established them- 
 selves to render the entire street an exclusive precinct 
 for a decade or more, but its glory has long since faded. 
 
 "Some thirty years ago the movement in Fifth avenue 
 was initiated, and it has held its own, with a growth 
 above and decay below, from that time to the present 
 day. This fine avenue has now become thoroughly 
 invaded, from Washington square almost to the Central 
 Park, with fancy shops, jewelers, hotels and boarding 
 houses, and its exclusiveness has vanished forever. 
 • Murray Hill,' the line of which it crosses, was for a 
 considerable time regarded as the synonym of fash- 
 ion, but in time it will be more strictly synonymous 
 with shabby gentility. Fifth avenue northward is 
 limited to the east side of the P^rk, and has a 'jump- 
 ing off' place at io2d street, into the Harlem fiats, 
 which checks its career of availability. Madison avenue 
 
THE MOVEMENTS OF FASHION. 
 
 79 
 
 has to some extent usurped the place of Fifth avenue, 
 due in a larore measure to the convenience afforded 
 originally by the extension of the Fourth avenue surface 
 road into that avenue. The Third avenue road, which 
 in its incipient stages had been a losing concern (the 
 stock of which at one time sold for three cents on the 
 dollar), began at last, through the mere element of 
 convenience, to cause the building up of the desert of 
 vacant lots through which it was originally projected, 
 and at the time of the construction of the elevated 
 line along its route, was paying its stockholders every 
 year a hundred cents on the dollar of its original cost, 
 and twenty cents per annum on its enormously watered 
 capital. Of course this involved the transportation of 
 very great masses of people, amounting to many mil- 
 lions annually, accompanied by much crowding and 
 discomfort. This immense volume of travel is now be- 
 ing absorbed by the East Side Elevated Railroad. 
 
 Lennox Hill, on the line of Fifth and Madison ave- 
 nues, from the very nature of its elevated position, 
 affords very attractive building sites, which the large 
 and opulent class of our HebrHw fellow citizens have 
 not been slow to appreciate. In this vicinity they have, 
 with a generous and noble liberality, erected the superb 
 Mount Sinai Hospital, for the care and comfort of the 
 sick of their own people, and many of the handsomest 
 private residences in this fine locality have been erected 
 by them. 
 
 *' In fact, as this favored territory is really limited by 
 the sudden descent into Harlem Flats at looth street, 
 it is very doubtful whether it will be sufficient even to 
 accommodate all of that faith who are likely to erect 
 
80 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 here their ' lares and penates/ The inquiry naturally 
 presents itself, where, then, shall the growth of the city 
 thus limited and circumscribed in the channels it has 
 pursued for three decades, be now directed ? 
 
 " The answer to this question is to be found in the 
 irresistible logic of facts that we propose now to pre- 
 sent. In the glance we have taken at the great capitals 
 of Europe, over some of which not only centuries, but 
 tens of centuries have rolled since their foundation, and 
 on which successive monarchs have sought, in lavish 
 expenditure, to stamp the glory of their brief reigns, by 
 splendid architectural adornments, by parks and prom- 
 enades, avenues and squares, by grand monuments of 
 brass and marble, triumphal arches and gorgeous pa- 
 laces — unlike what the New World has yet dreamed 
 of and may never possess — in this glance we see what 
 an important element the broad shaded avenues and 
 fine parks have been in their development. We have 
 recognized that, regardless of all other considerations, 
 these avenues and drives have been the fixed centres 
 of attraction, the final resting place of fashion and ele- 
 gance, along which and around which cluster the homes 
 of the aesthetic and the opulent, where the citizen who 
 entertains a just civic pride has sought to embellish 
 with his own wealth and taste the choice spots where 
 natural topography, aided by well-ordered public im- 
 provements, invite him to a salubrious and permanent 
 home. 
 
 ** The conclusion is inevitable, therefore, that the sec- 
 tion of the city that has been held io reserve until the 
 time when the progress of wealth and refinement shall 
 have attained that period of its development when our 
 
THE WEST END. 
 
 81 
 
 citizens can appreciate and are ready to take advantage 
 of tJie situation, is the section that is to be the most 
 favored and the most sought after. At an expense 
 unparalleled except in the lavish periods of imperial 
 opulence, the great West End plateau, extending from 
 the Central Park to the North River has been laid out 
 and ornamented with a series of magnificent avenues 
 not excelled by any other city in the world. Moreover, 
 this entire region combines in its general aspect all that 
 is magnificent in the leading capitals of Europe. In 
 our Central Park we have the fine Prater of Vienna ; 
 in our grand boulevard the rival of the finest avenues 
 of the gay capital of France; in our Riverside avenue 
 the equivalent of the Chiaja of Naples and the Corso 
 of Rome; while the beautiful " Unter den Linden" of 
 Berlin, and the finest portions of the West End of 
 London, are reproduced again and again. Let us look 
 more closely at the topography of this section, and see 
 whether it w^ll bear out the impressions that are given 
 in regard to it, by a study of its plan. 
 
 •'Originally, the highest portions of the 'backbone' 
 of the island were rough and unsightly, rocky emi- 
 nences alternated with intervening valleys. By a pro- 
 cess of uniform grading these have been transformed 
 into a generally level plateau, from seventy-five to a 
 hundred feet above the river. On the east, the Central 
 Park, with all its luxuriant beauty, stretches out its long 
 line of trees and shrubs. On the west, the stately 
 Hudson bathes the foot of the green slope in which it 
 terminates, while from the splendid avenue on the crest 
 above, this beautiful sheet of water, with its teemino- 
 life of sail and steamer, is viewed for more than three 
 
82 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 miles of drive and promenade. On the south the busy 
 city stretches out from below the Park, and on the 
 north the Boulevard extends its length away into the 
 picturesque and inviting region of Fort Washington, 
 with the Morningside Park on the east to break the 
 view of Harlem Plains, while Long Island Sound and 
 its beautiful islands are seen in the distance. 
 
 In the details of draining, sewering and water sup- 
 ply, the highest skill of the city engineers has been 
 here employed, and these important public necessities 
 have been provided in anticipation, with scrupulous 
 regard to thoroughly studied general plans. The igno- 
 rance and carelessness of the past have been replaced 
 by intelligence and conscientious work, and the errors 
 elsewhere committed have here been avoided, these 
 errors furnishing both a lesson and a guide to perfection. 
 The drainage of this region flows principally towards the 
 west side, in some portions of which there has accumu- 
 lated a great deal of contaminated soil, which may 
 never be purified. The underground drains in that 
 region, which were constructed at a late day, to remove 
 the water from the soil, after much of the grading had 
 been done, are found, in some instances, to run sev/age 
 matter of the most offensive description. Whether this 
 escapes from imperfect sewers, or from the polluted 
 condition of the soil, cannot readily be ascertained ; but 
 such is the case. That side must necessarily partake 
 of the disadvantages arising from the great pressure 
 of travel incident to the crowded population that 
 already monopolizes the larger portion of the territory, 
 to be increased in the near future by all that is to ac- 
 cumulate on Harlem Plains. It is believed that the 
 
HARLEM RIVER. 
 
 83 
 
 density of the future population of the east side wil! 
 exceed anything now conceived of. With the improve- 
 ment of the Harlem River, st)on to be accomplished, a 
 cordon of business and second-class dwellings will be 
 drawn closely around that side, which can by no possi- 
 bility invade the West End plateau. The business capa - 
 city of the Harlem River is yet to be developed. More 
 of a river than the Thames at London ; twice as much as 
 the Seine at Paris, and compared with which the Spree, 
 which runs through Berlin, is a mere open sewer, it has 
 yet been almost ignored in discussing the immediate 
 future of New York. We are soon to realize the fact 
 that this fine river is the proper terminus of the Erie 
 Canal. When the contemplated improvements of this 
 river are completed, a commercial channel will be 
 opened that will render unnecessary the transportation 
 of the canal freight the entire length of the island and 
 around the Battery, to interfere with the shipping and 
 the ferries. It will, instead of making this long detour, 
 be discharged into warehouses and elevators on the 
 Harlem River and at Port Morris, whence the foreign 
 shipping can receive it. The grain and lumber trade 
 of the city will centre here, and a large amount of busi- 
 ness now crowded into the lower end of the island 
 will be transacted at this point. The facilities offered 
 by the rapid transit railways have made all this not 
 only possible, but certain. 
 
 " Overlooking the whole of this vast and accumu- 
 lating traffic and commerce, but separated from it for- 
 ever by topographical lines as clearly defined and 
 obstructive as the bastions that surround the fashion- 
 able residences of the Viennese,' the West End plateau 
 
84 NEW YORK. 
 
 will undoubtedly always be held intact for the develop- 
 ment of a higher order of domestic architecture than it 
 has been the good fortune of New York heretofore to 
 possess. We have become so accustomed to being 
 victimized and led by speculative builders, that the 
 average citizen has come to believe that any attempt 
 of his own to form a conception of the house that he 
 would desire to live in, or any expectation of finding 
 such a house if he indulged himself in such ideas, 
 would be perfectly absurd. It is time for us to ask 
 ourselves if such a state of things is absolutely neces- 
 /i^ary, if we are to go on and be shelved away in a 
 r;ontinuous and interminable series of brown-stone 
 ))Oxes, the dimensions of which are growing less year 
 by year, until they may finally become but little larger 
 lhan the vaults into which our mortal remains are to 
 be thrust away out of sight forever. A stroll into the 
 upper sections of the east side, where house manufac- 
 turing is going on by the mile, is enough to alarm a 
 thoughtful person as to the possible future. of New 
 York in this respect. The sanitary feature of this con- 
 dition of things is a most serious one, as it is almost 
 impossible to secure in such constructions those appli- 
 ances for ventilation and house drainaore that are ab- 
 solutely necessary to health. The curse of the tene- 
 ment-house has been almost irrevocably stamped upon 
 the poorer class, and the curse of the speculative 
 builder is rapidly stamping itself upon the more pros- 
 perous. The truth is that, as a people, we have almost 
 lost the idea of what a real house is. The few at- 
 tempts at architectural display have been principally 
 made on * corner lots.' This unfortunate fancy for 
 
ERRORS IN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 8S 
 
 corners began with the extension of building on the 
 Fifth avenue. We say unfortunate, because out of it 
 has come that style of corner-lot architecture that has 
 dominated for so many years, at the expense of sym- 
 metry and completeness, and has almost given a per- 
 manent stamp to domestic architecture in the city. 
 These corner lots have been eagerly sought after by 
 those who could afford to buy them, and few persons, 
 no matter what their wealth or aesthetic culture, have 
 thought of constructing anything more than what ap- 
 pears to be three-quarters of a house. With marked 
 exceptions, no one has seemed to consider it worth 
 while to erect a really complete house, although pos- 
 sessed of ample land for the purpose. The otherwise 
 tasteful residence of Mr. R. L. Stewart, at the corner 
 of 20th street and Fifth avenue, is an example of this , 
 defect to a marked degree. So also are the handsome 
 mansions of the Astors, at 33d and 34th streets, on the 
 same avenue, where the connecting fence between the 
 houses on each corner seems labeled, 'This space to 
 be filled in solid.' This jug-handle style of architec- 
 ture has become so universal that we have grown 
 accustomed to it, and the incongruity does not strike 
 us as it does all intelligent visitors from other cities. 
 
 *' The plans of improvement at the West End that 
 have now been completed afford the opportunity for 
 that change in style of house construction that has so 
 long been a desideratum with us. There are a number 
 of cities in the United States that are far in advance 
 of New York in this respect, where the residences of 
 the leading citizens are marked by aesthetic surround- 
 ings, and an individuality that are not seen here. The 
 
86 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 territory at the West End is so admirably divided up by 
 the broad boulevard through the centre, the open space 
 of Central Park on the east and the Riverside Park on 
 the west — that the interminable vistas of brown stone 
 that characterize the rest of the city are impossible, 
 while unexampled facilities are supplied for the erection 
 of elegant homes that will do credit to their owners 
 and will be ornaments to the cit}'. Instead of expend- 
 ing from ^30,000 to ^50,000 for a corner lot on Fifth 
 avenue, from four to six lots can here be now purchased 
 for that sum, and the indications are that men of fore- 
 sight and good judgment are availing themselves of the 
 chances that are thus offered. Steam transit has ac- 
 complished in a year what a decade would have failed 
 to do without it. The admirable service on the elevated 
 roads has shown with what comfort and facility^ a home 
 in this vicinity can be reached, and as these roads will 
 be running through the West End this spring, a decided 
 movement has already begun, and building opera- 
 tions on an extensive scale have been commenced, 
 the most marked of which is that at 7 2d street and 
 Eighth avenue, where there is to be erected an edifice 
 that will be equal to anything of the kind in this or any 
 other city. Some fine private residences will also be 
 erected this spring on the unrivaled Riverside avenue. 
 This splendid avenue ' is to be fully completed and 
 ' opened during the coming season. Visitors to the 
 City and the Central Park, in 1890, will probably find 
 the entire region westward to the river built up in 
 a manner consistent with the surrounding public im- 
 provements. 
 
 " If there appears to be the least exaggeration in this 
 
FUTURE FASHIONABLE CENTRE. 
 
 87 
 
 Statement let us reflect for a moment on the striking- 
 fact that, with the exceptions of the immediate vicinity 
 of the General Post Office and that of Madison 
 Square, 23d street, there is no spot in the city where 
 a larger number of people can be concentrated, in the 
 shortest space of time, with the readiest means of loco- 
 motion, than ' The Circle ' at the Eio^hth avenue and 
 59th street entrance of the Central Park; and yet, in 
 ignorance of this fact, this point is probably regarded 
 by nine-tenths of our citizens as comparatively isolated. 
 The elevated railways, which in this immediate vicinity 
 come together, and meet eight lines of surface railways, 
 have accomplished this result. While the triangle be- 
 tween St. Paul's and the Post Office will be for many 
 years to come what it now is, the most active focus of 
 the business portion of the city, ' The Circle ' has been 
 made, by the facilities for locomotion afforded at that 
 point, the chief centre of social life. Here will be 
 erected in a shorter period of time than most people 
 imagine the great Palace Hotel, combining the elegance 
 of the Windsor with the comfort of the Fifth Avenue 
 and the convenience of the Astor. In close proximity 
 will be the Conservatory of Music, which will be the 
 permanent home of both English and Italian opera, with 
 adjoining accommodations that can afford ample space 
 for social entertainments, both in winter and summer, 
 on a scale that the increasing size of the city demands. 
 The other leading places of amusement will also con- 
 gregate in the vicinity, on account of the facility- with 
 which they can be reached from all other parts of the 
 city." 
 
88 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HARBOR OF NEW YORK. 
 
 MATURAL ADVANTAGES OF THE HARBOR — THE OUTER AND INNER BAYS — EXCURSIONS — A TItn' 
 
 DOWN THE HARBOR — SCENES ALONG THE ROUTE — THE SHIPPING — THROUGH THE INNER BAY 
 
 — governor's ISLAND BEDLOe's AND ELLIS* ISLANDS — BARTHOLDl'S STATUE — LIBERTY 
 
 ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD — THE KILL VAN KULL — STATEN ISLAND THE NARROWS — THE 
 
 FORTIFICATIONS — THE OUTER BAY — QUARANTINE — CONEY ISLAND — SCENES IN THE LOWER 
 BAY — SANDY HOOK — OUT TO SEA — BACK TO NEW YORK. 
 
 The Harbor of New York is one of the most beauti- 
 ful sheets of water in the world. It consists of an In- 
 ner and an Outer Bay, connected by the strait known 
 as "The Narrows." Between them lie Staten and 
 Long Islands, two natural barriers which render the 
 Inner Bay one of the safest of snug harbors. The 
 Outer Bay, though less sheltered than the Inner, affords, 
 safe and commodious anchorage for the fleets of the 
 world. 
 
 In the summer and early fall steamers make daily 
 trips from the city to the ocean and back, and carry 
 thousands of passengers bent on enjoying the sea breeze 
 and the glorious scenery of the harbor. We invite the 
 reader to take passage with us on one of these. 
 
 We start from one of the up-town piers on the North 
 River side, and make several landings between our 
 point of departure and the Battery, at each of which 
 we add largely to our cargo of human freight. The 
 steamer glides swiftly along the city front, by the 
 hundreds of vessels lying at the piers and anchored in 
 the stream. Here, moored to their piers, each of which 
 is covered by an enormous wooden shed, are the great 
 European steamships. You may tell them by the color 
 
HARBOR SCENES. 
 
 of and the marks upon their smoke stacks. Two or. 
 three are anchored in the river, having just come in 
 fromi the ocean voyage, and are still dingy and dirty 
 with the smoke and grime of travel. Further dpwn 
 are the steamers plying between New York and Ameri- 
 can ports, the floating palaces of the Hudson and Long 
 Island Sound, and numbers of river craft. The huge 
 • ferry boats, black with passengers, cross and recross 
 our track, and it requires not a little skill on the part 
 of our steersman to keep safely out of their way. Tugs 
 are puffing by us with heavily laden vessels, or vessels 
 in ballast, guiding them skillfully along their course. 
 The flags of all the countries of the world are floating 
 out from ship and shore, and the river presents a gay 
 and animated scene. On the opposite side is Jersey 
 City, the most conspicuous objects of the shore line 
 being the great ferry houses which mark the depots of 
 the various railway lines leading south and west from 
 New York. In the not distant future the tunnel now 
 in construction under the Hudson will connect New 
 Jersey with New York, and the railways will enter the 
 city by means of it. 
 
 The last landing has been made, and our steamer 
 now turns her head toward the Inner Bay. Just off the 
 Battery we pass a fine frigate and a monitor, fly- 
 ing the national flag, and near them notice several 
 foreign men of war riding at their anchors. From the 
 steamer's deck the lower end of the city and the spires 
 and towers that rise from it make a pleasing picture, 
 while across the East River is Brooklyn, its heights 
 crowned with stately mansions, and between the two 
 cities swings the great bridge that is to connect them. 
 
FOR'IIFICATIONS OF THE HARBOR. 
 
 91 
 
 On our left is Governor's Island, with the half round 
 fort of Castle William, and the more formidable works 
 of Fort Columbus beyond it. The American flag is 
 flying- from a tall staff about the centre of the island, 
 and the troops of the garrison can be seen engaged 
 at their manoeuvres on the parade ground. Across the 
 harbor, near the Jersey shore, is Ellis's Island, on which 
 is situated Fort Gibson, armed with twenty heavy guns. 
 To the south of it is a larger island, known as Bedloe's, 
 on which stands Fort Wood, which mounts eighty guns. 
 This island is well out in the bay, and commands an 
 unobstructed view through the Narrows, out to sea. 
 Upon this island is to stand Bartholdi's great statue of 
 "Liberty Enlightening the World." This remarkable 
 work is the gift of numbers of French citizens, to New 
 York, and is gigantic in size, being intended as a light- 
 house as well as an ornament to the harbor. A writer in 
 Scribners Magazine for June, 1877, thus describes the 
 statue and the site chosen for it : " One can see that 
 Bedloe's Island is a very central point in the complex 
 of rivers and islands forming what is really the city of 
 New York — Manhattan Island is only one and the 
 chief portion of our city. Hoboken, Jersey City, Staten 
 Island, Bay Ridge, and Brooklyn are already parts of 
 it ; in the future they will always tend to be bound 
 more closely around New York proper. Bedloe's 
 Island is therefore a nearly central point in the Upper 
 Bay, about which lie those detached portions of the 
 future, if not of the present city, and its small size will 
 only add to the effect of any gigantic statue erected on 
 it. The fort will be an advanced part or terrace to the 
 
92 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 pedestal of the figu»re, which will rise high above any 
 other object in the immediate neighborhood. 
 
 " Allowing twenty feet for the height of the island 
 above the water, the pedestal is to be one hundred and 
 ten feet high, and the statue, to the flame of the torch, 
 one hundred and forty-five. This makes the torch at 
 least two hundred and seventy-five feet above the level 
 of the Bay. It will equal in height the column of the 
 Place Vendome, at Paris, and will be larger than the 
 Collossus at Rhodes, so much celebrated by antiquity. 
 Like that statue, it will have to be cast in pieces of man- 
 ageable size, and built up, much after the manner of an 
 armored frigate. The construction will be a curious 
 piece of engineering skill. At night it is proposed that 
 a halo of jets of light shall radiate from the temples of 
 the enormous goddess, and perhaps the flame of the 
 torch may be fashioned in crystal, in order that it may 
 catch the light of the sun by day, and at night form a 
 glowing object illuminated by electricity. 
 
 " In respect to the pose of the statue, that has been 
 calculated with care. A Liberty would have to be 
 draped, even if a draped statue were not advisable, in 
 a climate as cold as ours, where nude figures suggest 
 extreme discomfort. But M. Bartholdi has also used 
 his drapery to give a tower-like and therefore solid 
 look to the lofty woman, without forgetting the neces- 
 sity for variety in the upward lines. * * * * 
 
 " She will stand so as to suggest that the strongest 
 hurricane could never budge her from the pedestal 
 she has chosen. Her gesture is meant to call the 
 attention of the most distant person, and, moreover, 
 to let him know unmistakably what the figure 
 
94 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 means. For in this statue M. Bartholdi has applied 
 his science to fine effect in getting the figure outlined 
 against the sky, while the energetic attitude has not 
 interfered with a certain dignified repose which inheres 
 in the resting position, and which may be owing to the 
 weight of the body being thrown on the left leg, as 
 well as to the grave folds of ample drapery. Even if 
 a stranger approaching from the Narrows should not 
 know at once what she is holding up for him to see, the 
 energy of her action will awaken his curiosity, and the 
 dignity of it will make him await a nearer approach 
 with confidence. When he can make out the tablets of 
 the law which jut out from her left side as they rest on 
 her bent arm, and the flaming torch which she holds 
 high up above her head, while her eyes are fixed on the 
 horizon, he will be dull indeed if he does not under- 
 stand what she wishes to tell." 
 
 This grand statue will be the most notable ornament 
 of the harbor, and one of the most prominent attrac- 
 tions of the city. A model of the arm with the up- 
 lifted torch is now standing in Madison Square, where 
 it has been much admired. It was originally exhibited 
 at the Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia, and was 
 removed to New York after the close of the World's 
 Fair. The statue will be of bronze, and, it is hoped, 
 will be completed and erected within a year or two. 
 
 Looking back up the harbor, we see the broad Hud- 
 son stretching away to the northward, with the high 
 bluffs of New Jersey on the west, and the stately spires 
 of New York on the east. Between Governor's Island 
 and the city, the East River, crowded with shipping 
 and full of moving steamers, stretches away until its 
 
THE NARROWS. 
 
 95 
 
 shores seem to meet. Brooklyn unrolls itself like a 
 vast panorama as our steamer speeds by it, and the 
 shores of Long Island spread away beyond it. On our 
 right is now a little white lighthouse, situated on "a 
 shoal, marking the entrance to the Kill Van Kull, or 
 Staten Island Sound, a placid sheet of water separating 
 Staten Island from the Jersey shore. It is full of small 
 craft, and looks very inviting as we sail by it. The 
 bold heights of Staten Island rise up on our right, lined 
 from shore to summit with picturesque villages and 
 villas, all embowered in bright green foliage. Pretty 
 villas are also seen on the distant shores of Long 
 Island, and we can see the steamers darting swiftly 
 towards the landing at Bay Ridge, where the passengers 
 will take the cars for Coney Island. 
 
 The shores of Staten and Long Island now draw 
 nearer together, the former rising to a bold headland, 
 the summit of which is over one hundred feet from the 
 water. The strip of water between the islands is 
 about a mile in width, and is known as the Narrows. It 
 connects the Outer and Inner Bays, and is strongly 
 fortified. The principal defences of the city are at this 
 point, and the shores on either hand bristle with guns. 
 On the Long Island shore is Fort Hamilton, a large 
 casemated work, built in the old-fashioned style. It 
 was begun ii^ 1824, and was finished in 1832. It cost 
 $550,000, and mounts eighty heavy guns. Since the 
 Civil War, extensive additions have been made to it in 
 the shape of outer batteries, mortar batteries, etc. 
 The fort is a pretty place, and is visited by thousands 
 every year from New York and Brooklyn. It is one 
 of the principal military stations on the Atlantic coast. 
 
96 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 and its officers are noted for their hospitality. It looks 
 very peaceful as it lies back amid its grass-covered 
 parapets, and the rows of guns which project frorci it 
 seem . innocent enough in this soft summer light. 
 
 At the very entrance to the Narrows, and on a shoaj 
 a few hundred yards distant from Fort Hamilton, stands 
 Fort Lafayette. It was begun in 1812. and occupies 
 the best of all positions for the defence of New York 
 Harbor. During the Civil War it was used as a prison 
 for political offenders. In December, 1 868, it was injured 
 by fire to such an extent as to make it practically 
 worthless, unless repaired at a very considerable 
 outlay ; and as it was adapted to guns of small calibre 
 only, it was not thought worth while to restore it, but 
 to replace it by a construction which should meet the 
 demands of modern armaments. The defence of New 
 York Harbor requires a new work on this shoal which 
 will admit of the mounting of eighty one-hundred-ton 
 guns. It will require several years to construct such a 
 work as is needed, and it is expected that it will be 
 begun without delay. The old fort cost $350,000, and 
 was armed with seventy-three guns. 
 
 The Staten Island shore bristles with guns, from the 
 water line to the summit of the bluff. These works 
 are eight in number, and are admirably constructed 
 and strongly armed. They are known as Forts Wads- 
 worth and Tompkins (the latter of which will probably 
 be called Fort Richmond), the Glacis Gun Battery, 
 north of Fort Tompkins, the Glacis Mortar Battery^ 
 south of Fort Tompkins, Battery Hudson, South Mor- 
 tar Battery, North Cliff Battery, and South Cliff Bac^ 
 tery. 
 
THE STATEN ISLAND FORTS. 
 
 97 
 
 Fort Wadsworth was commenced in 1847, con- 
 stitutes a part of the second line of defence of the 
 southern water approach to New York. It is an 
 enclosed work, built of granite, containing three tiers 
 of guns in casemates and one en barbette, the lower tier 
 being only a few feet above the water level. The 
 work, in connection with those adjacent to it on either 
 side of Fort Tompkins and the two adjacent glacis bat- 
 teries on the hill in rear, is designed to throw a heavy 
 concentrated fire on vessels approaching or attempting 
 to pass through the Narrows, crossing its fire with that 
 of Fort Hamilton and batteries on the opposite side 
 of the channel. 
 
 Fort Tompkins occupies the site of an old work, and 
 was commenced in 1858. The main work, with the glacis 
 gun battery on its left and the glacis mortar battery on 
 its right, crowns the hill in rear of Fort Wadsworth 
 and the earthen batteries known as North Cliff Bat- 
 tery, South Cliff Battery, Battery Hudson, and the 
 South Mortar Battery. It is an inclosed pentagonal 
 work, having on its four land faces two tiers of case- 
 mate quarters, a deep dry ditch and a heavy battery to 
 resist a land attack, and on its channel front seventeen 
 large casemates for storage and other purposes. I/r 
 mounts its channel-bearing guns e7i barbette. It isv 
 intended to supply quarters for the garrison and act as 
 a keep or citadel for all the defensive works occupymg 
 this position. This work will be able to throw a heavy 
 fire from a commanding position upon vessels attempt- 
 ing to pass through the Narrows. The four land faces 
 were, for all defensive purposes, finished in 1865. In 
 December, 1869, a plan giving such increased depth 
 
 T 
 
98 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 to the casemates that heavy rifled guns could be 
 mounted over them en ba7'bette, was adopted and 
 carried into execution. 
 
 Battery Hudson was commenced in 1841, and was 
 finished in 1843. Together with the North and South 
 CHff Batteries, it occupies the slope of the hill between 
 Fort Tompkins and the water. These works are able 
 to bring a powerful direct fire upon the channel leading 
 up to and through the Narrows. 
 
 The South Mortar Battery was commenced in 1872, 
 and is situated south of Fort Tompkins, and directly 
 in the rear of Battery Hudson extension. It is 
 designed to throw a heavy vertical fire upon vessels 
 approaching the Narrows from the Lower Bay. 
 
 These powerful works are as yet unfinished, but 
 when completed and properly 'armed, will render the 
 passage of an enemy's fleet through The Narrows a 
 doubtful, if not an impossible, undertaking. They are 
 so peaceful now in repose that we cannot obtain any- 
 thing like an accurate idea of their formidable charac- 
 ter. On the Fourth of July, and on other national 
 holidays, during the firing of the noonday salute, they 
 present a grand sight. From both sides of the Nar- 
 rows tongues of fire dart forth from the heavy guns, 
 and the waters of the bay tremble under the prolonged 
 roar of artillery. 
 
 Our steamer passes through the Narrows, and now 
 darts out into the broad Lower, Bay. The Staten 
 Island Hills sweep away in a graceful curve to the 
 southwest, and under them lies Raritan Bay, a small 
 arm of New York Bay, through which the Raritan 
 River empties into the sea. 
 
QUARANTINE. 99 
 » 
 
 Out in the Bay, a mile or so below the Narrows, are 
 Dix and Hoffman Islands, occupied by the State of New 
 York as a Quarantine Station. This is the Lower 
 Quarantijie. One hears so much of Quarantine that it 
 may be interesting to look a little more closely at this 
 famous place. 
 
 "Quarantine is divided into two sections, generally 
 known as 'upper' and 'lower' Quarantine. From 
 October to April the boarding is done at the upper sta- 
 tion, the grounds of which lie between Fort Wads- 
 ^vorth and Clifton Landing, on Staten Island, a little 
 over a half mile from either point. It is here that the 
 health officers reside, viz : Dr. Vandferpoel, the senior 
 officer, and his deputies, Drs. J. McCartney and Thomp- 
 son. During the other months of the year vessels 
 coming from the West Indies, South America, the west 
 coast of Africa, and from infected ports, are visited at 
 the lower station, which is situated at West Bank, 
 about two miles below Fort Wadsworth, and the same 
 distance from shore. The boarding station is the old 
 hulk Illinois, formerly belonging to the Government, 
 and transferred to the use of the State for an indefinite 
 period. She can also be used as a hospital, having all 
 the appurtenances on board for such a purpose. Near it 
 are the two quarantine islands, known as Dix and Hoff- 
 man Islands. The former is used for the reception of 
 cholera and yellow fever patients, except when both 
 •diseases prevail at the same time, when those sick with 
 one disease are quartered on one island and the remain- 
 der on the other, as the law prescribes that persons 
 sick with different diseases are not to be put in the 
 same hospital. Smallpox patients are sent to Black- 
 
100 NEW YORK. 
 
 well's Island, and those with Typhus or ship fever are 
 sent to Ward's Island. On the arrival of infected ves- 
 sels, all well persons are given their freedom as soon 
 as practicable, after having their clothing thoroughly 
 fumigated. Before being admitted to the hospital the 
 clothing of the sick is removed and thrown into a solu- 
 tion of carbolic acid, and the persons thoroughly fumi- 
 gated. The only diseases against which quarantine 
 applies are yellow fever, cholera, typhus, or ship fever, 
 smallpox, and any disease of a contagious or pesti- 
 lential nature. Vessels from foreign ports, and from 
 domestic ports south of Cape Henlopen, and vessels 
 upon which any persons shall have been sick during 
 the voyage, are subject to visitation by the health officer, 
 but are not detained beyond the time requisite for 
 proper examination, unless an infectious disease shall 
 have occurred during the voyage. Persons recently 
 exposed to smallpox, with insufficient evidence of 
 effective vaccination, are vaccinated as soon as practi- 
 cable, and detained until the operation has taken effect. 
 Vessels arriving from any place where disease subject 
 to quarantine existed at the time of their departure, 
 or which have had cases of such disease on board 
 during the voyage, are quarantined at least thirty days 
 after their arrival, provided this occurs between the 
 first of April and first of November. If a vessel be 
 found in a condition which the health officer should 
 deem dangerous to the public health, the vessel and 
 cargo are detained until the case is duly considered by 
 him. Vessels in an unhealthy state, whether there has 
 been sickness on board or not, are not passed by the 
 doctor until they have been cleansed and ventilated. 
 
QUARANTINE REGULATIONS. 
 
 101 
 
 If in the judgment of the health officer the vessel 
 requires it, he may order a complete purification, and 
 remand it to quarantine anchorage until disinfection is 
 perfected. A vessel has the right, before breaking out 
 her cargo, in preference to being quarantined, of put- 
 ting to sea; but before exercising this right the health 
 officer is required to satisfy himself that the sick in 
 such cases will be taken care of for the voyage, and ta 
 take care of those who prefer to remain. 
 
 "During the past summer a vigilant inspection has 
 been made of all vessels arriving from Savannah as 
 well as other ports where yellow fever was prevalent. 
 Every vessel has been fumigated with chlorine gas,, 
 special attention being giving to European vessels car- 
 rying a large number of steerage passengers. Many 
 complaints have been made on account of the charges 
 for fumigation, which range from $io to $25 for each 
 vessel. At first glance these may seem exorbitant, but 
 it is not the material alone which costs, but the work is 
 attended with much danger, and hence large wages are 
 paid. It requires at least three persons, besides the 
 doctor, to fumigate a vessel. The schedule of prices 
 was not made by the Health Board, but by a board 
 constituted for that purpose, of which the Mayors of 
 New York and Brooklyn were members. It is stated, 
 that a new board, to establish a new schedule, is to be 
 appointed. 
 
 "The two deputy health officers divide their duties by 
 taking alternate days of duty, twenty-four hours each 
 time. Though they are not obliged to visit vessels 
 after sunset, as a matter of accoinmodation to sailing 
 vessels in tow, which are under extra expense, they 
 
102 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 frequently make visits until midnight. They also board 
 ■coasting vessels after sunset, when it is almost certain 
 that they have had no sickness which would subject 
 them to quarantine, but all vessels with a large num- 
 ber of passengers must lie at anchor until sunrise before 
 being boarded, so that they may undergo careful inspec- 
 tion. Between the first of November and the first of 
 April, vessels from domestic ports are permitted to go 
 to the city without being boarded by the health officer, 
 the quarantine regulations for them being declared 
 **off" during that interval. It frequently happens that 
 at sunrise a fleet of a dozen or fifteen vessels may have 
 anchored off Quarantine Station during the night, and 
 the doctor is several hours in making his tour. As the 
 first round of visitations is made before breakfast, it 
 sometimes delays the taking of that meal until late in 
 the day; in fact, regular hours are an impossibility tc 
 those attached to the station. Usually vessels are 
 boarded from the quarantine tug Governor Fenton, but 
 it happened a short time since, during the first part of 
 a storm, that the tug broke her shaft, and a small boat 
 was used. The doctor appeared at sunrise fully 
 equipped in his storm-clothes, and started on his tour. 
 A large fleet had collected, and through a driving rain 
 and choppy sea, for four hours, he went from one vessel 
 to another in f^ursuit of his investigations, and his labors 
 were not ended until after eleven o'clock. During the 
 g"ale, though very few vessels arrived, the duties of the 
 health officer were arduous. Running alongside a great 
 ocean steamer with a ''Jacob's ladder" over the side, 
 the doctor would wait his chances for the sea to lift the 
 boat, and then grasping the " man-ropes," scramble up 
 
THE OUTER BAY. 
 
 the side of the ship and make the necessary investiga- 
 tion of the vessel and persons on board. The present 
 board has been in office since 1871, while some of the 
 deputies have seen longer service." 
 
 To the northward, or on our left, are the immense 
 hotels and other structures of Coney Island, all plainly 
 visible, and seemingly alive with people. As we steam 
 on, now turning our course to the eastward, Rockaway 
 and Rockaway Beach come in sight, and on their white 
 and distant shores we see the monster hotel and the 
 other caravansaries which make this place a formidable 
 rival to Coney Island as a breathing place for the 
 Metropolis. 
 
 The Bay grows wider, and the swell increases as we 
 speed to the Eastward. On the south we now see 
 plainly the bold headlands of the Neversink High- 
 lands, and in a short while Sandy Hook, with its tall 
 lighthouses and dark, frowning fort, are directly off our 
 starboard quarter. Over the whole scene the clear sun 
 sends a flood of brilliancy; the air is cool and bracing, 
 and the water smooth. The boat dances gaily over 
 the wa^j^es, and at length we pass the bar and are at 
 sea. The Light-ship nods dreamily to us far out on 
 the blue waters, as if inviting a visit from us ; but we 
 do not go so far to sea. A short distance beyond the 
 bar the steamer puts about, and turning its head to 
 the westward, starts on its return to the city. We 
 enjoy a delightful sail up the Bay, and as the sun is 
 sinking behind the distant Jersey hills, we pass through 
 the Narrows, and speeding over the gold-tinged waters 
 of the Inner Bay, are soon landed at the pier from 
 which we started on our voyage of delight. 
 
104 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SANDY HOOK. 
 
 ©ESCRIPTION OF " THE HOOK " — A NOTED LANDMARK — A SANDY WASTE — THE COVE — THE BEACH 
 — THE LIGHT-SHIPS — THE LIFE SAVING STATION — SANDY HOOK LIGHTHOUSE — ITS HISTORV 
 — THE keeper's HOUSE — WRECKS — IN THE LIGHT-TOWER — A GRAND VIEW — OCEAN CBMB< 
 TERY — THE FORTIFICATIONS — TESTING THE HEAVY GUNS — THE NORTH LIGHT — THE SYRENS 
 —THE TELEGRAPH STATION. 
 
 Nineteen miles seaward from New York, on the 
 western side of the Bay, is a narrow strip of white 
 sand, projecting northward into the bright waters. 
 Seen from a steamer s deck on a clear day it gleams 
 like a streak of polished silver; but when the skies are 
 dull and gray, or overhung with clouds, it lies leaden 
 and dead in the half light. This is Sandy Hook, a long, 
 low, sandy peninsular of drift formation, the continua- 
 tion of a sand reef skirting the New Jersey coast. It 
 projects northward five miles into the Lower Bay of 
 New York, and forms the eastern breakwater of Sandy 
 Hook Bay. In width it varies from fifty yards at the 
 Neck, near Highlands Bridge, where jetties of brush- 
 wood form but a frail protection against easterly 
 storms, to a full mile at the point where the main light 
 is located. 
 
 Many an eye has watched this strip of sand sadly as 
 some outgoing steamer turned its head to the sea and 
 began its long way across the Atlantic ; and many a 
 heart has beat more quickly as it came plainly into 
 view, the homeward voyage over, for beyond it lie tlie 
 bright waters and the smiling shores of home. 
 
SANDY HOOK LIGHT-SHIPS. 
 
 105 
 
 A pleasant and profitable afternoon may be spent in 
 ' a visit to this interesting spot. Taking the Long 
 Branch steamer, we are carried swiftly down the Inner 
 Bay, through the Narrows, and out upon the broad 
 bosom of the Lower Bay, which is finally left to the 
 eastward, and our steamer passing into the calmer 
 waters of Sandy Hook Bay, or, as it is more commonly 
 called, the Cove," lands us at the wharf of the New 
 Jersey Southern Railway. Once on shore, we see a 
 waste of sand all around us, covered thjckly in parts 
 with cedars and a scrub undergrowth, with clear patches 
 of shining white here and there, and at intervals are a 
 number of buildings which are used for various pur- 
 poses. Leaving the railroad, we take our way over 
 the sands towards the point of the Hook, and soon 
 reach the bright and shining beach. At our feet the 
 breakers roll in lazily with a monotonous plash as they 
 waste themselves on the shore. Far away stretches 
 the blue Atlantic, calm and fair to look upon now, but 
 terrible at times. When the fierce gales of winter 
 sweep down upon the coast, the surf comes rolling in 
 "mountain high," and dashes upon the beach with a 
 wild, angry roar, never to be forgotten by those who 
 have listened to it. About a mile and a half to the 
 eastward is the Scotland Light-ship, rocking lazily upon 
 the placid sea, and six miles further east the Sandy 
 Hook Light-ship is seen rising and falling with the long, 
 regular heave of the ocean. The latter ship marks 
 the point from which all vessels bound for New York 
 shape their course for the Lower Bay, and from which 
 the European steamers begin to reckon their voyages to 
 the Old World. It is painted red, and carries two fixed 
 
106 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 red lights elevated forty-five feet above the surface ot 
 the water. At night they glare out upon the waves 
 like two great sleepless eyes, welcoming the seaman 
 home, and telling him of the dangers that lie in his 
 path. When the mists settle down over sea and shore^ 
 you can hear the hoarse voice of its great fog horn 
 moaning across the deep, warning the watchful mari- 
 ner that the shore and the breakers are near. Now^ 
 in the bright calm day, it sways idly with the waves» 
 and looks lonely and forlorn. Far down toward the 
 horizon is the long black trail of the smoke of one of the 
 outward bound steamers, and in every direction the 
 sunlight flashes back from the white sails of various 
 kinds of craft, leaving and making for the Bay. 
 
 Close at hand is a low, red building, used as a life- 
 saving station. It is provided with all the appliances 
 necessary to the humane work to which it is devoted^ 
 and is in charge of a keeper and a competent force. 
 From April 15th to September 15th a careful watch is 
 kept along the beach, and two patrols nightly pace the 
 sands on the lookout for vessels in distress. For some 
 years, however, they have had but little opportunity to 
 show their skill. Few vessels now come ashore at 
 Sandy Hook. Long Branch, Squan, and Barnegat^ 
 lower down the Jersey coast, have been the scenes of 
 almost all the recent wrecks. Yet the Hook has had 
 its share of disasters, as the light-keeper will tell you, 
 if you are fortunate enough to draw him into conver- 
 sation. 
 
 Before us, and not far back from the point of the 
 Hook, is the main light-tower, and pressing on, we are 
 soon at the foot of it This spot has been the site of 
 
THE LIGHTHOUSE. 
 
 i07 
 
 one of the principal lighthouses on our coast from a 
 very early period of our history. In 1679-80, Gover- 
 nor Andrews, of New York, urged upon Governor Car- 
 teret, of East Jersey, the necessity of establishing a 
 light, or " sea marks for shipping upon Sandy Point," 
 as the Hook was then called. Nothing came of this 
 suggestion, and for eighty years the shore remained in 
 darkness. The necessity for a light grew more appa- 
 rent every day, however ; and in 1761 the merchants 
 of New York began to take steps toward establishing 
 one. The money was raised by two lotteries, which 
 were authorized for the purpose by the Assembly of 
 New York, and in May, 1 762, the merchants of New 
 York purchased a tract of four acres at the point of 
 the Hook, from Robert and Isaiah Hartshorne, the 
 owners of the peninsula, for the sum of ^750, or about 
 $3750 in United States money. By this purchase 
 New York acquired the northern part of the peninsula. 
 It remained the property of that State until it was 
 ceded by it to the General Government, which, some 
 years later, purchased from the Hartshorne family all 
 the remainder of the peninsula as far south as Young's 
 creek. The first lighthouse was completed, and the 
 lamps were lit, in 1764. It was built of stone, and 
 " measured from the surface of the ground to the top 
 of the lighthouse 106 feet." The claim of the Province 
 of New York to the orieinal four acres was confirmed 
 by the British Government, and an act of George the 
 Third, dated May 226., 1762, provided that actions for 
 trespasses on Sandy Hook should be tried by the 
 courts of New York. To defray the cost of maintain- 
 ing the light, New York levied a duty of three pence 
 
108 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 per ton on all vessels entering the port. During the 
 first year after the lamps were lit, this duty realized the 
 handsome sum of ^487, 6s., gd., from which it will be 
 seen that the commerce of New York had grown to 
 very respectable proportions. In March, 1776, the 
 British fleet being daily expected in the Bay, the Pro- 
 vincial Congress caused the lights to be removed. It 
 seems, however, that the walls were not destroyed^ 
 and at a later period of the war of the Revolution the 
 building was occupied and fortified by the British. 
 
 The present lighthouse is identical with that of 1 764, 
 as far as the walls are concerned. Various improve- 
 ments have been made in the edifice, such as lining the 
 interior with brick, and replacing the old wooden stairs 
 with a more substantial structure of iron. The lens is 
 of French construction, and is ninety feet from the 
 ground, and the lamps are of the most improved style. 
 Near the foot of the tower is the cottage of the keeper, 
 with its pleasant shade trees and pretty garden, and 
 close at hand is the barn, with its cow sheds, built of 
 wreck wood, that has been cast ashore by the merci- 
 less waves. Many a stout vessel has contributed its 
 share to the construction of these humble sheds, and 
 each plank and post, each rafter and beam, has ita^ 
 story of manly daring, high hopes, storm and wreck, 
 despair and death, all swallowed up by the dark waters 
 that beat upon the sands. Nightly, for nineteen long 
 years, has Keeper Patterson climbed the long iron 
 stairs, trimmed his lamps, and sent their bright rays 
 far over the waves, and many an interesting story can 
 he relate of the wrecks that have strewn the beach 
 during this long period. Since he first lit these lamps^ 
 
RELICS OF STORM AND WRECK. 
 
 10^ 
 
 more than fifty wrecks have occurred within sight of 
 Sandy Hook light. "Here almost every object offers a 
 suggestion of storm and disaster. That arm-chair on 
 the piazza drifted ashore from the brig Swett, which 
 foundered off the east shore during the winter of 1868. 
 Here is a remnant from the English ship Clyde, and 
 that one from the brig Prospe?^, which, during a terrific 
 gale, drove on the bar near the west beacon. Here is 
 a figure-head that once danced over the waves, defiant 
 of storms, now warped and weather-stained ; and on 
 the side of the barn, just below the dove cot, is a stern- 
 board, bearing the name Trojan, close to which nestle 
 the cooing doves. One side of the hencoop is en- 
 closed by a panel from a French brig, elaborately 
 carved with sprays of foliage, which, when it was dis- 
 entangled in fragments from the seawrack upon the 
 beach, was gorgeous with gilding, but which, with the 
 exception of a bright speck here and there, is now bare 
 and brown." 
 
 From the lantern the eye rests upon a glorious sight. 
 On one side is the ocean, stretching away to the ho- 
 rizon, with vessels of all classes dotting its surface ; 
 and on the other the lower bay, studded with ships, 
 and drawing in to the Narrows, beyond which rise the* 
 shipping of the inner bay and the distant spires of Nevi 
 York. Near the end of the Hook is the unfinished 
 fort, which guards the anchorage within Sandy Hook 
 Bay, where safe at anchor ride numbers of craft of all 
 descriptions. Far across the bay is Long Island, and 
 you can make out with a glass the great hotels at 
 Rockaway ; while nearer to New York Coney Island 
 loon\s up, with its iron tower, its famous pier, and the 
 
110 ^ NEW YORK. 
 
 huge hostelries that form so marked a feature of New 
 York summer life. Across Sandy Hook Bay are the 
 picturesque Highlands of Neversink, with their trim 
 lighthouses, and the white hotels nestling at their feet ; 
 and beyond this the bold heights of Staten Island close 
 in the view to the westward. Down the coast Long 
 Branch is dimly seen, and along the shore a railway 
 train is speeding swiftly towards the Hook. Overhead 
 the fish-hawks wheel and scream,watching for whatever 
 prey chance may bring within reach of their skillful 
 sw^oop. 
 
 Not far distant from the lighthouse is " Ocean Ceme- 
 tery," a small enclosure, dark with cedars. Here, 
 under the humble crosses and headboards, sleep the 
 unknown sailors whom the sea, merciful in its cruelty, 
 cast ashore from storm and wreck, for kindly hands to 
 bless with Christian burial. The sand gracs and 
 brambles grow thickly over the lowly, lonely graves, 
 and the winds shriek and the surf roars by them 
 through winter's cold and summer's heat ; yet they 
 sleep well, the men that lie below ; and from, time to 
 time new tenants come to the little graveyard, craving 
 the rest that wind and wave denied them in life. 
 
 Leaving the eastern beach and the sea, we cross the 
 peninsula to the west beach, the fort and the point of 
 the Hook, guided by the thunder tones of heavy ord- 
 nance, which grow louder as we press onward. 
 
 Before reaching the fort we come to the Barracks, 
 two long lines of two-story houses separated by a 
 sandy street a hundred feet wide; in the midst of which 
 are the pump and the school-house. In the latter, a 
 school is taught, the attendants being the children 
 
INHABITANTS OF SANDY HOOK. 
 
 Ill 
 
 of the dwellers upon the Hook. The Barracks were 
 built in 1856-57, and were designed for the accom- 
 modation of the men engaged in the work of building 
 the fort. This force amounted to five hundred men at 
 one period of the late Civil War, when the work was 
 pushed forward with great energy. They are now ot- 
 cupied by the government employees connected with 
 the ordnance department and the lighthouse, life-sav- 
 ing and signal services, and by the Western Union 
 Telegraph operators. These, with their families, num- 
 ber about fifty souls, and constitute more than one-half 
 of the population of the Hook. Immediately to the east 
 of the Barracks are the old and new quarters for offi- 
 cials, the latter a handsome brick building. 
 
 Beyond the Barracks lies tiie fort, an unfinished 
 structure, upon which the work has been suspended for 
 many years. The works occupy a commanding position, 
 and from them one can obtain a fine view of the ocean 
 and the Bay. The fort, which is at present nameless, 
 will probaby be called " Fort Clinton." It ranks next 
 to Fortress Monroe, and will be the second in size in 
 the United States, covering with its outworks eighteen 
 or twenty acres. It is constructed, as far as it has been 
 carried, of massive masonry with a granite facing, and 
 is intended to defend the entrance to the Bay by the 
 Main Channel, which is half a mile distant from it, and 
 by the Swash Channel, which is a mile further to the 
 northward. The main batter)^ or lower tier of guns, is 
 completed, but the progress of the work has been ar- 
 rested for more than half a Score of years by the 
 changes in modern artillery, which may yet require 
 many modifications of the original plan. 
 
112 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Still nearer to the point of the Hook is the North 
 Light. Close by are the two steam fog horns, called the 
 Syrens, which in thick weather give out terrific blasts, 
 six seconds in duration, at intervals of forty seconds. 
 
 On the east beach, near the Syrens, are the head- 
 quarters of the Ordnance Department, a model insti- 
 tution in all its details. Here are brought the heavy 
 guns, and other ordnance introduced by the Govern- 
 ment from time to time, to be tested. The guns are 
 mounted on the platform near the beach, and are fired 
 by electricity from the office, two hundred and fifty 
 feet distant. 
 
 Close by is the station of the Western Union Tele- 
 graph Company, a tov/er seventy feet in height, with 
 port-holes commanding every point of the compass. 
 At the top is a small chamber, ten feet square, furnished 
 with a desk, telegraph instruments, chairs, lamps, a 
 stove, and telescopes and marine glasses of various 
 kinds. It is a pleasant and breezy place in summer, 
 but in winter it is bleak beyond description, and the 
 stove is kept at a red heat, to render the room inhabit- 
 able. Here, year in and year out, is stationed an opera- 
 tor, whose business it is to report the approach of 
 incoming ships and steamers. A wire connects the 
 station directly with the principal office of the company 
 in New York, and also with the office of the Maritime 
 Association in Beaver street. By means of the "Inter- 
 national Code of Signals" each vessel, by hoisting 
 certain flags, or combination of flags, makes herself 
 known to the lookout in the tower, who at once tele- 
 graphs the news of her arrival to New York. Vessels 
 are reported only during the day. 
 
THE NEVERSINK HIGHLANDS. 
 
 113 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE NEVERSINK HIGHLANDS. 
 
 mruATlON OF THE HIGHLANDS — THE SHREWSBURY RIVER — RED BANK — ORIGIN OF THB WAHTK 
 
 OP THB HIGHLANDS AS SEEN FROM THE SEA THE LIGHT-TOWERS A MAGNIFICENT LIGHT 
 
 — VIEW FROM THE TOWER THE PICTURES IN THE LENSES A GLIMPSE OF FAIRY LAND. 
 
 Along the New Jersey coast runs a narrow strip of 
 sand, terminating at its northern end in the peninsula 
 of Sandy Hook, w^hich has already been described. On 
 one side of it the waves of the Atlantic roll in whit« 
 breakers upon the shore, and along the other the 
 Shrewsbury River flows peacefully, and empties into 
 Sandy Hook Bay. At its source in the interior of NeAV 
 Jersey, and as far down its course as the town of Red 
 Bank, it is a mere streamlet, wandering lazily between 
 high banks and through a rich and finely wooded 
 country. At Red Bank it broadens into a wide estuary, 
 and maintains this character until its waters find theiii 
 resting place in Sandy Hook Bay. 
 
 As the river nears the bay, the left-hand shore 
 increases in height, and finally rises into a line of bold 
 Arerdure-clad hills known as the Neversink Highlands. 
 They extend along the coast for several miles, com 
 manding fine views of the Bay of New York and tht\ 
 ocean. They "have the post of honor among the 
 American hills. They stand near the principal portal 
 of the Continent, the first land to greet the curious eye 
 of the stranger and to cheer the heart of the return- 
 ing wanderer. The beauty of these wooded heights, 
 
 the charming villas that stud their sides, the grace of 
 to 
 
114 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 their undulating lines, give to the traveler prompt 
 assurance that the country he visits is not only blessed 
 with rare natural beauty, but that art and culture have 
 suitably adorned it. The delight with which the wearied 
 ocean voyager greets the shores that first rise upon the 
 horizon has often been described; but these 
 shores have a rare sylvan beauty; that opens hour by 
 hour as the vessel draws near. When, instead of 
 frowninor rocks or barren sands, he beholds noble hills 
 clothed to their brows with green forests, fields, and 
 meadows basking with summer beauty in the sun, cot- 
 tages nestling amid shrubbery, and spires lifting above 
 clustering tree tops, the picture possesses a charm 
 which only he who first beholds it can realize. It is 
 such a green paradise that the Neversink Hills offers 
 to the gaze of every ocean wanderer who enters the 
 harbor of New York." 
 
 The name of the Highlands is variously spelled. It 
 is written sometimes Navasink, again Navisink, at other 
 times Nevisink, and finally as Neversink. The correct 
 method can be determined only by a knowledge of its 
 origin, and of this there appears to be some doubt. 
 Navasink is supposed to be an Indian word, meaning 
 fishing place ; and, of course, applied to the river ; but 
 others claim that this is but a common instance of a natural 
 desire to find an aboriginal verb for our nomenclature, 
 and that the term is really Neversink, having been be- 
 stowed by sailors, as expressive of the long time these 
 hills remain in view to the outward voyager. There is 
 more romance in the Indian term, buX, so far, the weight 
 of authority does not appear to be in its favor." 
 
 However this may be, there can be no doubt that the 
 
HIGHLANDS LIGHTHOUSES. 115 
 
 Highlands form one of the most inferesting, as well as 
 one of the pleasant features of New York Bay. They are 
 easily reached from the city, as the Red Bank boat will 
 land the visitor at the foot of Beacon Hill, near the 
 mouth of the river. Once ashore, we follow the path- 
 way up the steep bluff, and finally reach the twin light- 
 houses that crown its summit. These lighthouses 
 form the chief feature in any view of the hills, and are 
 very picturesque, from whatever point seen. The two 
 towers stand wide apart from each other, on the brow 
 of the hill, but are connected by a long structure, much 
 lower in height, and at a point midway between the 
 towers rises a massive castellated gateway, with ar& 
 arched entrance, from which floats the flae of the Re- 
 public. One of the towers is square, and rises to a 
 considerable height. It contains the finest and most 
 powerful light on the Atlantic coast. Its rays can be 
 easily seen at a distance of thirty-five miles, or as far 
 as the height of the tower lifts the horizon. It is the 
 first indication of land seen by vessels approaching the 
 Bay at night. The light is of French construction, and 
 secured the prize at one of the great International Ex- 
 hibitions of France. It was afterwards purchased by 
 the United States, for the sum of thirty thousand dol- 
 lars. The light in the second tower is a duplicate of 
 this one in construction, but is not so powerful. The 
 two lighthouses constitute one station, and are kept in 
 the most perfect order. 
 
 Through the courtesy of the keeper we are permit- 
 ted to ascend to the lantern of the principal tower, and 
 enjoy the superb view which it commands. To the 
 eastward is the blue Atlantic, rolling lazily with its 
 
116 NEW YORK. • 
 
 long, dreamy heave, for the day is bright and the wind 
 is soft and fair. Clouds of white canvas glitter and 
 nod in the sunlight, as scores of vessels, outward and 
 inward bound, take their way over the waves. There 
 is a large steamer just passing out to sea, plunging 
 steadily into the blue water, and leaving a long, black 
 trail of smoke behind. How many hearts beat hope- 
 fully in that black shell, soon to be to us a mere speck 
 upon the water ; and how many eyes are turned in 
 farewell glances to the tower from which we look 
 down. How lovingly they will watch it until it sinks 
 >lown and fades away on the dim horizon. We wish 
 God-speed and a safe voyage to the gallant vessel, 
 whose long way across the deep has begun so happily. 
 Directly below us the peaceful Shrewsbury flows 
 'gently, its bright bosom dotted with many smaller 
 craft ; and amid the trees along the river shore we can 
 see the hotels and the white cottages of the little vil- 
 lage of Highlands, one of the most popular summer 
 resorts in the vicinity of the metropolis. Sandy Hook, 
 with its tall lighthouse and the grim outline of the 
 imfinished fort, are seen to the northward, seeming 
 **trangely near in this bright light of a summer after- 
 noon ; and within the cove are a score of vessels at 
 anchor. Across the bay are Coney Island and Rock- 
 away, and in the middle of the outer bay seem to float 
 the substantial structures of the Quarantine. To the 
 westward are the bold heights of Staten Island, and at 
 the Narrows we can see the national ensign flapping 
 from the tall flagstaff at Fort Richmond. The bay is 
 full of shipping, some going and some coming, and 
 several large excursion steamers are darting swiftly 
 
THE LANTERN. 
 
 117 
 
 among them, laden with hundreds of the dwellers in 
 the great city, who are seeking rest and recreation in 
 the cool sea breeze on this warm afternoon. 
 
 Turning from this wonderful view we examine the 
 lantern, which the genial light-keeper explains to us. 
 As he raises the curtain that is spread over the lenses 
 by day, we are startled at the picture which is reflected 
 in the polished surface. The sky, the sea, the bay, 
 every object within sight, is reproduced in excellent 
 imitation upon the convex central crystal, and with a 
 faithfulness and delicacy which the most gifted artist 
 would despair of accomplishing. How wonderful the 
 picture is, so small and yet so true, and giving out all 
 the rare tints and shades of nature itself. It is like a 
 scene of fairy land, and grows more beautiful as we 
 continue to gaze upon it. 
 
 The keeper explains to us the construction and 
 mode of working the light. We examine the deli- 
 cate and costly machinery by which the bright flashes 
 are sent far over the sea, and easily imagine how 
 eagerly the homeward-bound seaman must watch for 
 them as they shine out over the dark waves, telling 
 him that port and rest are at hand. Then, as the after- 
 noon is declining, we descend the tower and take our 
 way down the hill back to the pleasant hotel at High- 
 lands, to wait for the morning boat that is to convey 
 us back to the city. When the night comes on we 
 stroll out once more and watch the bright gleams as 
 they dart out from the tall towers on the hill, and shine 
 far over the waves, signals of hope and safety. 
 
118 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 ORGANIZATION OP THE CITY GOVERNMENT — THE MAYOR AND BOARD OF ALDERMEN — THB COIC> 
 MISSIONERS— DESCRIPTION OF THE VARIOUS MUNICIPAL DEPARTMENTS— POWERS OF OFFI- 
 CIALS — THE COURTS — POLICE JUSTICES — THE MEN BY WHOM NEW YORK IS GOVERNED — RESPON. 
 
 SIBILITV OF THE BETTER CLASSES FROM THE GROG SHOP TO CIVIL POWER — WHO THB LBAD- 
 
 ERS ARE THE " BOSS " THE RING HOW BOSS TWEED MAINTAINED HIS POWER SPASMODIC 
 
 EFFORTS AT REFORM — MULHOOLYISM IN NEW YORK — AN INSIDE VIEW OF MUNICIPAL POLITICS 
 
 THE SLAVE OF THE RING LOOKING OUT FOR THE " BOYS " THE INTERESTS OF THB CITY 
 
 NEGLECTED THE POPULAR WILL DEFIED BY THE RING. 
 
 The City of New York is governed by a Mayor and 
 a Board of twenty- two Aldermen, with various. Boards 
 of Commissioners. It is divided into twenty-four 
 wards and 557 election districts, and constitutes the 
 First Judicial District of the State. It sends 5 Senators 
 and 21 Assemblymen to the State Legislature, and 7 
 Representatives to Congress. The Mayor is elected 
 by the vote of the people for a term of two years, and 
 receives a salary of $12,000 per annum. The Alder- 
 men are chosen annually by the popular vote, and 
 receive each an annual salary of $4000, except the 
 President of the Board, who is paid $5000. "Six are 
 elected by the voters of the city at large (no one being 
 permitted to vote for more than four candidates), and 
 three from each of the four lower Senate districts (no 
 one being permitted to vote for more than two). The 
 upper Senate district with the 23d and 24th wards elects 
 four Aldermen (no one being permitted Co vote for 
 more than three)." 
 
 The Mayor appoints 'the Commissioners and heads 
 of departments, with the consent of the Board of Alder- 
 
BOARDS OF FINANCE AND TAXES. 
 
 119 
 
 men. These hold office for periods varying from three 
 to six years, and receive salaries ranging from $3000 
 to $15,000 a year. 
 
 The principal department under the City Govern- 
 ment is that of Fi7iance. It has charge of all the fiscal 
 affairs of the corporation, and is presided over by the 
 Comptroller, who receives a salary of $10,000 per 
 annum, and occupies the most important position, from 
 a political point of view, in the city. He is generally 
 the "Boss" of New York politics, and wields his power 
 ■ in a despotic manner. Next in importance is the City 
 Chamberlain or Treasurer. He is appointed by the 
 Mayor, and is confirmed by the Board of Aldermen. 
 He receives a salary of $30,000, but out of this has to 
 •pay his office expenses, clerk hire, etc. 
 
 The Department of Taxes and Assessments ranks 
 next in importance. It consists of three Commis- 
 sioners, appointed by the Mayor and confirmed by the 
 Board of Aldermen. They hold office for six years, 
 and one of them is President of the Board. The 
 President receives $6500 a year; the" others $5000. 
 .This Board fixes the rate of taxation upon real and 
 'personal property, and collects the taxes due the city. 
 The Mayor, Comptroller, President of the Board of 
 Aldermen, and President of the Department of Taxes, 
 constitute a Board of Apportionment, which fixes the 
 amount to be raised each year by taxation. This Board 
 also decides how much shall be spent by the City Gov- 
 ernment, and all appropriations for any branch of that 
 government must receive its approval. It is thus really 
 in possession of powers superior to those of the Board 
 of Aldermen, and constitutes a check upon that body. 
 
120 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The President of the Board of Taxes and two others^, 
 appointed by the Mayor, are Commissioners of 
 Accounts, whose duty it is to examine the accounts 
 and expenditures of the various branches of thie City 
 Government. They are removable at the pleasure of 
 the Mayor. 
 
 The Department of Public Works is presided over 
 by a Commissioner, appointed by the Mayor and con- 
 firmed by the Board of Aldermen for a term of four 
 years. He receives an annual salary of $10,000. The 
 Department has charge of the Public Buildings, streets, 
 sewers, water, gas, etc., and expends annually about 
 $1,600,000. 
 
 The Department of Buildings is in charge of a super- 
 intendent, appointed by the Mayor and confirmed by 
 the Board of Aldermen. He holds offtce for six years, 
 and receives an annual salary of $6500. This department 
 supervises the construction of new buildings, and ad- 
 ditions to old ones within the city limits. All plans for 
 new buildings, or alterations of old ones, must receive 
 its approval. The department also has power to inspect 
 all buildings in rhe city with regard to their safety^ 
 and to require all unsafe structures to be pulled down 
 .or properly repaired; and to compel owners of build- 
 ings to provide the proper fire escapes. 
 
 The Law Department has charge of all the law busi- 
 ness of the city of New York. Its head is the Corpora- 
 tion Counsel, who is appointed by the Mayor and con- 
 firmed by the Board of Aldermen, for a period of four 
 years. He receives a salary of $15,000 per annum. 
 His principal subordinates are the Corporation Attor- 
 ney, who receives $6000 a year ; and the Public Ad- 
 
THE BOARD OF HEALTH. 
 
 121 
 
 ministrator, with a salary of ^5000. The first has 
 charge of the prosecution of violators of city ordi- 
 nances, etc. ; the second administers upon the estates of 
 persons who die intestate, and the estates of foreigners 
 dying in New York. 
 
 The Health Department, or " Board of Health," as 
 it is better known, consists of the President of the 
 Board of Police, the Health Officer of the Port (who 
 is a State, not a City Official), and two Commis- 
 sioners, one of whom must have been for five years 
 a practicing physician. The last two are appointed by 
 the Mayor, and are confirmed by the Board of Alder- 
 men, for a period of six years. The Cornmissioner^ 
 who is not a physician, is the President of the Board. 
 The Board has charge of all matters relating to the health 
 and sanitary condition of the city. It is divided into two 
 bureaux : the sanitary bureau, the head of which is the 
 Sanitary Superintendent, with a salary of $4800 per 
 annum, and the bureau of records, over which is the 
 Register of Records, with a salary of ^2700 a year. 
 The first bureau prepares the sanitary regulations of 
 the city, and enforces them ; the second records the 
 births, deaths and marriages occurring within the city 
 limits. It is sometimes called the Bureau of Vital 
 Statistics. It gives all permits for burials or removals 
 of bodies from the city. 
 
 The Department of Police will be referred to in an* 
 other chapter. 
 
 The Excise Department consists of three commis- 
 sioners, appointed by the mayor, and confirmed by the 
 Board of Aldermen, for a term of years. It receives 
 all applications for licenses to sell spirituous or malt 
 
122 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 liquors within the limits of the corporation ; decides 
 whether the appHcant is a proper person to sell liquor, 
 and his establishment a fit place to be licensed, and 
 gives the license if the decision is favorable. Licenses 
 are granted for one year only, and must be renewed 
 annually. 
 
 "The courts of general jurisdiction in civil matters, 
 are the Supreme Court for the First District, with five 
 justices (salary $ 1 7,500), and the Superior Court and 
 Court of Common Pleas, with six judges each (salary 
 $15,000). The justices and judges are elected for a 
 term of fourteen years. The Surrogate, Recorder arid 
 City Judge (salary $1 5,000 each), are elected for six 
 years. ^ The superior criminal courts are the Oyer and 
 Terminer, held by a justice of the Supreme Court, and 
 the General Sessions, held by the Recorder or City 
 Judge. The Marine Court has civil jurisdiction to the 
 amount of $1000, and consists of six judges (salary 
 $10,000), elected for six years. For purposes of dis- 
 trict courts, which have civil jurisdiction to the amount 
 of $250, the city is divided into ten judicial districts, in 
 each of which a justice (salary $8000) is elected for a 
 term of six years. There are eleven police justices 
 (salary $8000), appointed by the Mayor, with the con- 
 sent of the Board of Aldermen, for a term of ten years, 
 each of whom has power to hold a police court in 
 either of the six police-court districts. Two police jus- 
 tices hold the Court of Special Sessions, with power to 
 try cases of misdemeanor. The Sheriff, County Clerk, 
 District Attorney and Register, are the principal other 
 officials." 
 
 Such is the machinery by which the great American 
 
 t 
 
FROM THE SLUMS TO CIVIL POWER. 123 
 
 metropolis is governed. Were it always possible to 
 secure the best and most intelligent men of the city for 
 the offices included within this vast system, the ar- 
 rangement would certainly achieve the results for which 
 it was designed — the good government of the city and 
 the impartial administration of justice. But apart from 
 the judges of the higher coui*ts, who are men of great 
 ability and unquestioned integrity, it must be confessed 
 that the government of New York is not in the hands 
 of either its best or its most thoroughly representative 
 citizens. The majorit)^ of the office-holders of the great 
 city are men whom a reputable citizen would not ask 
 into his house. Under the shadows of the temples of 
 justice, Mulhoolyism flourishes in all its glory. Go to 
 the City Hall, or to any of the various departments, 
 and you will find the majority of the persons present 
 in official capacity, loud-voiced, big-handed, red-faced, 
 sinister-eyed men, with coarse features, dull expres- 
 sions, heavily-dyed moustaches, and all bearing in their 
 personal appearance unmistakable evidences that they 
 have risen from the slums to their present position by 
 the power — not of intellect or ability, but of " politics." 
 
 The cause of this is not hard to find. The better 
 class of New Yorkers have a holy horror of politics, 
 and all things pertaining thereunto. They will not at- 
 tend the primary meetings or the nominating conven- 
 tions, and, in too many instances, will not even vote. 
 Thus the wealth and intelligence, the two conservative 
 classes of the city, leave the control of all the vast ma- 
 chinery we have described, with all the great and va- 
 ried interests dependent upon it, in the hands of pro* 
 fessional politicians and their followers. 
 
124 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 This being the case, it becomes interesting to ask. 
 who are the professional poHticians, and from whom do 
 they derive their support ? 
 
 The professional politician is generally an Irishman, 
 or of Irish descent. The immense Irish population of 
 New York, which constitutes at least one-fifth of the 
 total number of the inhabitants of the city, comprises 
 the ruhng element in metropolitan politics. It is also 
 the most ignorant, as well as the most reckless class 
 in the great city. It is blindly devoted to its leaders, 
 and obeys their orders implicitly, and without care of 
 consequences. It controls the primary meetings, the 
 ward conventions, and even the greater political bodies 
 by which the electoral machinery of the city is gov- 
 erned. Its leaders are men who have risen from the 
 grogshop, by the exercise of bribery and sheer knav- 
 ery. Its headquarters are the numerous bar-rooms 
 with which the city abounds; and votes are bought and 
 sold; incompetent men are put in nomination and 
 elected, and the whole system of free government in 
 municipal affairs is thus placed at the mercy of a few 
 leaders, who are in their turn subject to the control of 
 a central authority, who is commonly known as " the 
 Boss." 
 
 The author of that inimitable satire upon American 
 politics, " Solid for Mulhooly," thus sums up the system: 
 
 " When one man owns and dominates four wards or 
 counties, he becomes a Leader. Half a dozen such 
 Leaders constitute what is called a Ring. When one 
 Leader is powerful enough to bring three or four such 
 Leaders under his yoke, he becomes a Boss, and a 
 Boss wields a power as absolute, while it lasts, as that 
 
MULHOOLYISM IN NEW YORK. 
 
 125 
 
 which George III wielded over the thirteen., colonies, 
 until they ungratefully rebelled against him and com- 
 menced to murder his soldiers and take away their mus- 
 kets and bayonets. The Leaders, the Ring, and the 
 Boss combined, constitute the modern system of Ameri- 
 can politics, which has been found to work so success- 
 fully in all large cities, especially in those which are for- 
 tunate enough to have secured a working majority of 
 Leaders from Ireland. It has also been tried with en- 
 couraging results in several of the oldest and largest 
 States of the Union; and even with all the disadvan- 
 tages of American birth and prejudices, some men 
 have been found who could rule their own States, with 
 a fair measure of success, for many years, by combin- 
 ing in themselves, at once, all the functions of the Lead- 
 ers, the Ring, and the Boss." 
 
 It was such a system as this that enabled Boss 
 Tweed and his confederates to hold the greatest city 
 of the Union in their grasp for so many years, and to 
 wring from the tax payers the enormous sums by which 
 they built up their immense fortunes. Indignant out- 
 cries were raised from time to time by the Press, but 
 the Boss found it easy in some cases to buy up danger- 
 ous journals, and where this could not be done, he felt 
 safe in the indifference of the better class of voters, and 
 above all in the strength of the solid Irish vote, upon 
 which he could always rely. Since his downfall we have 
 seen another Boss upheld by the same power, and sq 
 conscious of its support as to be able even to defy the 
 better elements of his own party, and strong enougk 
 to defeat that party because it had dared to oppose 
 him and his schemes. True, he is not tainted with the 
 
126 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 corruption of Boss Tweed, but his strength in political 
 affairs is even greater; and this not because of his over- 
 intellectual strength, or his lofty patriotism, but because 
 of his undisputed control of the Irish vote. 
 
 Strong as is the Irish vote, it is made stronger by the 
 accession of a large class of Americans and voters of 
 other nationalities, who are drawn into alliance with it 
 by the hope of sharing the plunder which falls into 
 the hands of the successful party. " The Boss," who- 
 ever he may be, finds these as devoted adherents as 
 the Irish, and rewards them accordingly, only keeping 
 the most profitable places for the Irish. Take the salary 
 list of the city offices, and read the names opposite 
 each office, and you will find nine out of ten pure Mile- 
 sian. Go into the public offices, and you will hear the 
 **rich Irish brogue*' as purely and as plentifully as 
 though you were in the Green Island itself. These are 
 men who form the chairmen of the city, ward, and pre- 
 cinct committees; who dominate the conventions, and 
 name and secure the election of candidates of their 
 choice. 
 
 To win success in any legitimate pursuit in New 
 York requires the exercise of every power of intellect, 
 shrewdness, industry, and perseverance. The whole 
 man is brought out and developed to the full. Not so 
 in politics. To win success in this line of life requires 
 only an absence of principle, devotion to the Boss, and 
 a careful cultivation of the Irish vote. It was by the 
 exercise of these qualities that a certain well known 
 ex-prize fighter and gambler mounted to a seat in the 
 Congress of the United States, where for four years 
 he disgraced that august body by his presence. 
 
AN INSIDE VIEW OF MUNICIPAL POLITICS. 127 
 
 True it is, that once in a long while the better class 
 of citizens, driven to desperation' by the burdens laid 
 upon them, arouse from their indifference, and combine 
 in a great movement for reform. Sharp and vigorous 
 work is done for a while, and the election results in the 
 overthrow of the Ring and the defeat of the Irish vote. 
 This done, the good citizens sink back into their form.er 
 indifference, and leave political affairs to take care of 
 themselves. Then matters fall back into their old chan- 
 nels; a new Ring is formed, a new Boss is created, or 
 rather creates himself, the Irish vote reasserts itself, and 
 a new era of corruption opens. 
 
 The author we have before quoted, in describing the 
 experience of Mr. Michael Mulhooly in his successful 
 rise in political life, thus records the results of that 
 Honorable Gentleman's observations of the system as 
 applied to municipal politics, and the observations, 
 though made in another city, apply with equal force to 
 the New York system: — 
 
 "He saw that the party organization was composed 
 primarily of Precinct Committees, Ward Committees, 
 and the City Committee, and secondarily of Conventions 
 to place in nomination candidates for various offices to 
 be chosen at elections held by the people; and that all 
 tliese various members or parts of the organization 
 were provided for and governed by a system of laws 
 called Party Rules, which operated like the Constitu- 
 tion and laws of a great Commonwealth. He saw that 
 while this perfect party organization was ostensibly 
 created to insure the success of the party, and thereby 
 the good of the people, it had been so ingeniously 
 devised as to compel obedience on the part of the 
 
128 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 great body of voters, while it placed the entire control 
 of the whole machinery in a central head or master 
 spirit, composed of one man, or two men, or half a 
 dozen men, according to circumstances ; or in other 
 words, of the leaders, the Ring, and the Boss. He 
 saw also, that however the party rules might be modi- 
 fied from time to time, in the apparent interest of the 
 great body of voters, in their practical operation, they 
 would still be found to contribute only toward strength- 
 ening the power of those who, by the natural tendency 
 of party organization toward centralization of power, 
 might, from time to time, constitute the Leaders, the 
 Ring, and the Boss. 
 
 "He saw that by this system the Leaders, the Ring, 
 and the Boss practically nominated all candidates, and 
 as — where the party is largely in the majority, and the 
 voters can be kept in the traces — a nomination is equiva- 
 lent to an election, they, therefore, practically appointed 
 all public officers, under the form of an election by the 
 people * * * He saw that one who would enter 
 the lists as a candidate must give satisfactory proofs 
 that he had already rendered valuable services to 
 them; that no other man could fill the place with such 
 advantage to them ; and that he would at all times, and 
 under all circumstances, implicitly obey their orders, 
 irrespective of consequences, legal, moral, social, or 
 political. He saw that if, for instance, one desired to 
 be a candidate for judicial honors, he must be able to 
 give undoubted assurances, either by his past record, 
 or by some satisfactory pledges, that he would hold his 
 office as of their gift, and might be at all times safely 
 and privately conferred with by them, so as to be 
 
OPERATION OF RING-RULE. 
 
 129 
 
 instructed how to further their interests in matters fall- 
 ing within the scope of his judicial functions. 
 
 He soon saw that this whole system was founded 
 on (a) the tendency of every voter to work in the 
 traces, and vote for any man ostensibly nominated 
 by the party; (d) the strict enforcement of part}^ 
 rules ; and (c) the judicious distribution of the 
 regularly-salaried offices in the various departments 
 of the city government * * ; the various municipal, 
 State, and national offices to which only perquisites 
 and aliunde profits are attached ; the various appoint- 
 ments which may be, from time to time, controlled in 
 the various State and national offices * * * * 
 and of the various contracts for public work, involving 
 the outlay of millions of dollars, given to contractors 
 who are willing not only to rebate, but also to prop- 
 erly control, at all times, the thousands of workmen 
 whom they employ in the public service * * * * 
 
 " His examination, though imperfect, had been car- 
 ried far enough to show him these important results : 
 
 I . That nearly every member of the City Com- 
 mittees, and of the various Ward Committees, held a 
 lucrative position by the appointment of some Leader, 
 whose orders he was compelled to obey. 
 
 " 2. That as these committees fix the times and 
 places for holding conventions, select the temporary 
 chairmen to organize them, and decide all disputes and 
 appeals, they practically control all conventions. 
 
 " 3. That every one of these department 
 employees is presumed to be able to go to a conven- 
 tion when ordered to do so, or to send in his place a 
 person who will obey orders ; and that these ap- 
 
130 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 pointees, as well as the thousands of others in other 
 offices and employments, are so distributed through 
 the different wards as to be able, when acting in con- 
 cert, to control a large majority of all the wards. 
 
 "4. That the Leaders had, in one way or another, 
 obtained control of one department of the city govern- 
 ment after another, until more than four-fifths of all 
 the men employed directly and indirectly in the public 
 service, and paid by the public money, were under 
 their immediate orders. 
 
 "5. That the Leaders were themselves subject-to the 
 orders of the Boss, who had made most of them, and 
 without whose favor they would be comparatively 
 powerless. 
 
 "6 That the Boss was the Great Supreme 
 Thus the reader will see that it is a very simple sys- 
 tem after all. The Boss names the candidate he wishes 
 elected to some city office, and the ward leaders act as 
 his lieutenants in the execution of his orders. The man 
 so chosen is one upon whom absolute reliance can be 
 placed, to stand by the party under any and all circum- 
 r>tances, and to yield implicit obedience to the orders 
 e:)f the Boss. Intellectual qualifications are not sought 
 after, high moral character and fidelity to the interests 
 of the city are not desired. The candidate must be true 
 to the party, and obedient to the Boss. The primary 
 meetings, under the orders of the Leaders, send dele- 
 gates to the Convention pledged to vote for the candi- 
 date named by the Boss. The Convention is held, the 
 candidate is nominated, and is announced to the world 
 as the choice of the party, when in reality he is the 
 
 * "Solid for Mulhooly." G. W. Carleton & Co. New York. pp. 51-54; 57-58. 
 
* 
 
 POLITICAL CORRUPTION. 
 
 131 
 
 choice of one man, the Boss. The election is held, the 
 candidate is triumphantly returned by the Irish vote, 
 or, if there are not legal votes enough to elect him, the 
 returns are skillfully manipulated, and he secures his 
 certificate of election. It is all very simple; the choice 
 of the Boss once made, the Irish vote does the rest, 
 and does it thoroughly. 
 
 Once elected, the candidate is the slave of the Boss 
 and the Leaders. It is useless to think of independ- 
 ence. He has sold himself, body and soul, to his 
 poHtical masters, and henceforth must think as the)r 
 think, and act as they dictate. Now what is expected 
 of him is simply this: that he shall use his officiat 
 power to further the passage of all and any scheme.^ 
 the Boss or the Leaders may desire to succeed, 
 whether he knows them to be corrupt or not. As a 
 rule he does know them to be corrupt, but he must 
 vote for them. Such schemes are carried through by 
 bribery, and the Boss does not object to his faithful 
 servant receiving his share of the spoils, and growing 
 rich thereby. That is the reward held out to him at thi^ 
 beginning. Measures in which the Boss and the Lead - 
 ers are interested become very numerous, but each and 
 all receive his vote, and little by little the aliunde profitii 
 of the legislator swell to greater proportions, and 
 finally he grows rich, becomes a Leader in his turn, 
 and secretly cherishes the hope of one day becoming 
 Boss. Meanwhile the trufe interests of the city suffer, 
 the property holders are burdened with useless and 
 unjust taxes. The ''City Fathers" have no time to 
 attend to such matters; they are too busily engaged ir>' 
 looking after the interests of the Boss and the Leaders^ 
 
132 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 and accumulating fortunes for themselves. Then they 
 must look out for the interests of "The Boys," as the 
 voters who supported them are affectionately termed. 
 Offices must be provided for them — without regard to 
 their competency to fill them — the bar rooms in their 
 respective districts or wards must be looked after, and 
 the proper amount of money expended at each in 
 treating "The Boys" who cannot be provided with 
 office, and a thousand and one other similar things so 
 occupy the time of the office holder, that the business 
 -of the city, to which he has sworn to give his time and 
 best efforts, cannot be attended to. Thus it happens 
 that the public service of New York, apart from one or 
 two departments, is the most inefficient, and the most 
 shamefully neglected, of any city in the land. 
 
 In the summer of 1881 the streets of New York 
 were filthy beyond precedent. Disease and death 
 stalked through the metropolis. Suffering and sorrow 
 clouded many an otherwise happy home. Great piles 
 of refuse, which had accumulated during the heavy 
 snows of the previous winter, lay heaped in the streets, 
 rotting in the fierce heat of the sun and scattering their 
 poisons on every hand. The press teemed with de- 
 scriptions of the horrible scenes to be witnessed, and 
 called for the proper execution of the health laws ; the 
 physicians of New York warned the city authorities of 
 the dangers of a serious pestilence ; mass meetings of 
 indignant citizens were held and redress demanded. 
 Yet for months nothing was done. The city officials 
 had their wine-parties, went on excursions where they 
 could find purer air, and deliberately turned a deaf 
 ear to the appeals of the great city. Secure in the 
 
NEGLECT OF THE CITY's INTERESTS. 133 
 
 "Btrength of the Irish vote, they laughed to scorn all 
 threats against their official existence. All the while 
 the boss, the leaders, and the ring went on with their 
 corrupt schemes, careful only of their own interests, 
 and sublimely indifferent to the real welfare of the peo- 
 ple. What had they to fear ? Were they not strong 
 in the power of the Irish vote ? 
 
134 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. * 
 
 BROADWAY. 
 
 BARLY HISTORY OF BROADWAY— UNDER THE DUTCH AND ENGLISH RULE— PRIMITIVE fTAMB 09 
 
 THE STREET — IT COMMENCES TO GROW — THE GREAT FIRE OF 1 776 — THE BROADWAY OF TO- 
 DAY — APPEARANCE OF THE STREET — A STROLL ON BROADWAY — THE LOWER STREET — 
 TRINITY CHURCH — THE INSURANCE COMPANIES — THE TELEGRAPH WIRES — MAGNIFICENT 
 BUILDINGS — SCENE FROM THE POST-OFFICE — A BROADWAY JAM — LOWER BROADWAY BY 
 NIGHT — CHARACTERISTICS OF THE VARIOUS PORTIONS OF THE STREET — VIEW FROM CANAC 
 STREET — THE HOTELS— AMONG THE PUBLISHERS — " STEWARt'S " — GRACE CHURCH- 
 BROADWAY AT UNION SQUARE — THE NARROWEST PART — MADISON SQUARE — A GRAND SIGHT- 
 UPPER BROADWAY A STREET OF MARBLE THE GREAT HOTELS — THE CENTRAL PARK 
 
 REACHED— STREET CARS AND OMNIBUSES — THE NIGHT LIFE OF BROADWAY — SCENES ON THE 
 STREET — THE STREET WALKERS — THE ELECTRIC LIGHT — THE MIDNIGHT HOUR — BUSINESS 
 ON BROADWAY. 
 
 To the dweller in New York, Broadway is what the 
 Boulevards are to the Parisian. It is the centre of 
 life, gayety, and business; the great artery through 
 which flows the strong life-current of the metropolis. 
 From the Bowling Green to the Central Park, a dis- 
 tance of five miles, it is lined with stately edifices and 
 thronged with an endless crowd of busy workers, rest- 
 less pleasure-seekers, the good and the bad, the grave 
 and the gay, all hurrying on in eager pursuit of the 
 objects before them. To the stranger it is the great 
 *'show street" of the city, and certainly no more won- 
 derful sight can be witnessed than this grand thor- 
 oughfare at high noon. 
 
 The history of the street is the history of the city. 
 It has grown steadily with it, shared its vicissitudes 
 and good fortune, and, like a true mirror, has reflected 
 every phase of the wonderful progresrs of New York. 
 
 Broadway was laid out as a street by the original 
 
BROADWAY IN OLD TIMES. 
 
 135 
 
 t>utch settlers of New Amsterdam, and was called by 
 them the " Heere Straas," or High Street." In the 
 days of the Dutch colony it was lined, especially on 
 the east side, with rows of pleasant mansions, the gar- 
 dens of which ran back to the marsh, on the present 
 site of Broad street. Under the Dutch rule it was ex- 
 tended to Wall street, where the city wall terminated 
 it ; and beyond this were pleasant fields and pastures, 
 Avhere the portly " mynheers " turned out their cows to 
 ^raze, and dreamily smoked their pipes under the 
 wide-spreading trees. 
 
 When the English came into possession of the city, 
 and changed its name to New York, Broadway took a 
 step forward. The character of the buildings was im- 
 proved, and Bowling Green became the centre of a 
 thickly settled and fashionable district. Mr. Archibald 
 Kennedy, His Majesty's Collector of the Port of New 
 York, built the house now known as No. i Broadway, 
 a stately mansion in its day, and at one time the head- 
 quarters of the British General Sir Henry Clinton. 
 The great fire of 1776 greatly damaged the street, but 
 it was afterwards rebuilt in a more substantial manner. 
 By the opening of the nineteenth century, Broadway 
 had advanced from the Old Dutch Wall to a point above 
 the present City Hall Park, and by 181 8 it was built up 
 beyond Duane street. In 1830 it had passed Canal 
 street, and the portion between Chambers and Canal 
 streets was the fashionable shopping quarter of the 
 city. By 1 832 it had reached Union Square, and by 1841 
 had been extended to Madison square. Since that year 
 the growth of the street to the Central Park has been 
 steady and rapid. Year after year its various portions 
 
136 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 have changed their character. Business has steadily 
 driven out the residences, until now along the whole 
 distance of five miles there is scarcely a dwelling house 
 proper left. 
 
 The first thing that strikes the stranger in looking 
 
 BROADWAY, LOOKING NORTH FROM EXCHANGE PLACE. 
 
 at Broadway, is its narrowness. The early citizens 
 never dreamed of the future greatness of their favorite 
 thoroughfare, and laid off a street with an average 
 width of sixty feet. For many years - past, numerous 
 
ALONG BROADWAY. 
 
 137 
 
 plans have been offered for widening certain portions 
 of the street, but each has been abandoned because of 
 the immense expense attendant upon the enterprise. 
 The probability is, therefore, that Broadway will retain 
 its present width for all time. Through this narrow 
 street pours an unending throng of vehicles of every 
 description, which fairly choke it, and cause it to re- 
 sound with the thunderinof roar of their wheels. The 
 sidewalks are filled with handsomely dressed ladies, 
 with men of wealth and fashion, with people in plainer 
 clothes, representatives of all classes and conditions 
 of the people of the city, hurrying on — for everybody 
 walks rapidly on Broadway — jostling each other good 
 humoredly. Over all pours the bright radiance of the 
 sunlight, which seems to shine more beautifully here 
 than elsewhere, and on all sides are evidences of the 
 wealth and prosperity of the great city. 
 
 A stroll along Broadway, we mean along its entire 
 length, is one of the most interesting occupations to 
 which the stranger in New York can devote himself. 
 It requires considerable "leg power," for the distance 
 is five good miles, but the scene is so full of interest, 
 and there is so much to divert one's thouehts from 
 fatigue, that we invite the reader to accompany us. 
 
 We start from the Bowling Green, a small park 
 lying between the lower end of Broadway and the 
 Battery Park. Here we are in a region once the home 
 of wealth and fashion, but now occupied by the ofiices 
 of the foreign consuls, and the headquarters of the 
 great European steamship lines. Among these are 
 the familiar names of the "Cunard," "Inman," "White 
 . Star," and other leading companies, whose palatial 
 
138 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Steamers ply over the great ferry between New York 
 and Liverpool. Higher up are the heavy importing 
 houses, dealing chiefly in wines, and above these are 
 
 MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE BUILDING. 
 
 the main offices of the great Express Companies. 
 Opposite Wall street is the stately edifice of Trinity 
 
ST. PAUL'S CHURCH. 
 
140 NEW YORK. 
 
 Church, lying back among the grand trees of its church- 
 yard, and surrounded by the time-worn grave stones of 
 the old New Yorkers who lie sleeping peacefully amid 
 all the turmoil and strife going on around them. The 
 tall spire points solemnly heavenward, as if to lift the soul 
 above the vulgar worship of mammon in the city below, 
 and at intervals the sweet tones of the chimes come 
 floating down into the street, telling that wealth is not 
 all, folly is not all, pleasure is not all, business is not 
 all, but that there is something purer, nobler, waiting 
 high above the golden cross which the sunlight bathes 
 so lovingly. Looking down Wall street one sees an 
 equally busy throng, and catches a glimpse of the 
 stately edifices with which the street is lined. 
 
 Passing Trinity Churchyard we notice the immense 
 brick building which forms its upper boundary. This 
 is the headquarters of the coal trade, not only of the 
 city, but of a large portion of the Union, and here 
 fortunes are made and lost by wise or unwise dealings 
 in " black diamonds." Insurance offices now begin to 
 multiply on both sides of the street, and on the right 
 we notice the superb structure of the Equitable Life 
 Insurance Company, above which is the marble build- 
 ing of the Mutual Life. These are very Towers of 
 Babel, and dwarf the neighboring structures, which are 
 themselves buildings of large proportions. On the left, 
 at the corner of Dey street, the tall tower of the 
 Western Union Telegraph Company rears its lofty 
 head, and from it a bewildering network of wires 
 stretches away in all directions, high overhead, and look- 
 ing like a gigantic spider's web drawn against the sky. 
 Across the way, at the corner of Fulton street, is the 
 
142 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 office of The Evening Post, eight or nine stones in 
 height, a massive structure of brick. On the same 
 side, above Fulton street, is the beautiful white marble 
 building of the National Park Bank, its front elaborately 
 ornamented with statuary, one of the most sumptuous 
 bank edifices in the city. Next door is the Herald 
 Building," also of white marble, in which is published "the 
 King of American Dailies," the world-famous New York 
 Herald, Opposite these two buildings, on the west 
 side of Broadway, occupying the entire block from 
 Fulton to Vesey streets, is St. Paul's churchyard, with 
 its rows of crumbling tombstones. In it stands the 
 venerable St. Paul's Church, one of the few ante-Revo- 
 lutionary buildings remaining in the city. In this 
 church the " Father of his country," in the early period 
 of the War of Independence, heard himself denounced 
 by the Royalist clergyman as a " Traitor to his King 
 and his God." The square above the church is occu- 
 pied by the Astor House, once the most famous hotel 
 in New York, and even now, though reduced in size, 
 an excellent and well-patronized establishment. Op- 
 posite stands the great Post Office, running far back 
 into the City Hall Park, of which it now forms the 
 southern boundary. At the southern end of the Post 
 Office, Broadway and Park Row come together at an 
 acute angle, and the porch of the great building con- 
 stitutes one of the best points from which to view the 
 lower part of the former street. Nothing in the street 
 life of New York is more striking than the scene be- 
 fore us. " From morning till night there moves by an 
 ever-changing procession of vehicles, that have poured 
 into the great artery from a thousand tributaries, and 
 
A BROADWAY JAM. 
 
 143 
 
 to cross Broadway, at times, at this spot, one must 
 needs be a sort of animated billiard-ball, with power 
 to carom from wheel to wheel until he can safely 
 'pocket' his personal corporacity on the opposite walk. 
 The crush of vehicles here is sometimes so great as to 
 delay movement for ten minutes or more, and it re- 
 quires the greatest energy on the part of the police to 
 disentangle the dense, chaotic mass and set it in pro- 
 gress again. For those who are not obliged to cross 
 the choked-up thoroughfare, the scene is full of a brief 
 amusement — ^hack-drivers, truckmen, omnibus drivers, 
 swearing vehemently at each other, or interchanging 
 all kinds of * chaff' ; passengers indignantly railing at 
 the delay, and police officers yelling and waving their 
 clubs in their attempts to get the machinery of travel 
 again running smoothly. If, at such a time, a fire- 
 engine comes rattling up the street, post-haste for the 
 scene of a fire, and attempts to enforce its right of way, 
 the confusion becomes doubly confounded, and the 
 scene a veritable pandemonium. Ordinarily, however* 
 such tangles of traffic do not occur, for this locality is 
 fully supplied with policemen, whose main business i':> 
 to facilitate the passage of travel and prevent such ;j 
 blockade as we have described. 
 
 "The outlook down Broadway from the Post Office 
 is in all respects picturesque and impressive, and fillst 
 the mind with a vivid sense of the immense activity of 
 New York life. In the distance the towers of Trinity 
 Church and the Equitable Life Insurance Building 
 lift themselves as landmarks, and noble buildinors 
 thickly studding the squares between the New York 
 Evening Post Building and the Western Union Telegraph 
 
144 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Building, attract the eye by their massiveness and 
 dignity; and directly opposite the spectator, but stand- 
 ing diagonally to each other, the Astor House and 
 Herald Building demand the attention, as representing 
 institutions which have been household words in New 
 York for the last forty yeah-s or more. Up and down 
 this vista roars and streams an ocean-tide of travel and 
 traffic, and the eye can find food for continual interest in 
 its changing kaleidoscope. Well dressed men and 
 women are brushed in the throng by beggars and 
 laborers grimed with the dust of work; and grotesquely 
 attired negroes with huge advertising placards strapped 
 to the front and back, pace up and down, in happy 
 ignorance of the inconvenience they give to others by 
 taking up a double share of room. Fruit and flower 
 stands offer their tempting burdens on every corner, 
 and retail venders of all kinds peddle their goods, and 
 add fresh discord to the din by their shrill crying of their 
 wares. About six o'clock in the afternoon, however, 
 the feverish activity of this region begins to abate, and 
 it is not long before the appearance of the scene be- 
 comes lethargic and quiet. Down town, New York has 
 now begun to go to sleep, and it will not be many hours 
 before the silence and emptiness will be alone re- 
 lieved by the blaze of lights in the newspaper establish- 
 ments of Printing House Square and the Western 
 Union Telegraph Building, by the occasional tramp of 
 the policeman or reporter, or the rattling of a casual 
 carriage over the stony pave. This busy part of the 
 city will not begin to waken again till about five o'clock 
 in the morning, when the numerous street car lines 
 which terminate in this vicinity commence to run their 
 
BROADWAY AT THE CITY HALL. 
 
 145 
 
 carfe, bringing- down porters, mechanics and laborers as 
 the vanguard of the great army whose thronging bat- 
 talions will make the new day the repetition of the one 
 before." 
 
 Continuing our stroll up Broadway, we pass on our 
 right the City Hall Park, tlite only open space in this 
 section of the city. Here are the City Hall and the 
 new Court House, both handsome buildings, and across 
 the Park looms up the tall tower of the New York 
 Tribune Building, surmounted by an illuminated clock. 
 On the west side of Broadway the buildings are hand- 
 some, large, and gener3.11y of iron or marble. The 
 upper floors are devoted mainly to offices, and here 
 the lawyers congregate, because of their proximity to 
 the courts. Fireproof safes, firearms, and the lighter 
 articles of machinery have their headquarters here. 
 At the northeast corner of Broadway and Chambers 
 street is an elegant marble structure, once the whole- 
 sale house of the great firm of A. T. Stewart & Co.^ 
 but now devoted to other purposes. 
 
 Above Chambers street we enter a region devoted 
 mainly to wholesale dry goods and kindred establish-^ 
 ments, such as ribbons, fancy goods, boots and shoes, 
 clothing, etc., and these establishments give character 
 to the street almost to Union Square. The buildings 
 are large and elegant, marble and iron being chiefly 
 used. Some of the iron structures are fancifully 
 ornamented in gay colors, and present a pleasing con^ 
 trast to the long rows of solid colored edifices. Glancing 
 down the cross streets we see long rows of equally 
 imposing business structures, stretching away as far as 
 the eye can reach, all telling of the immense amount 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 of trade and wealth embraced in this section of the 
 city. Not one of these buildings would shame Broad- 
 way, and the little narrow lane, lying just west of and 
 parallel with it, and known as Church street, fairly 
 rivals the great thoroughfare in the splendor of its 
 business edifices. 
 
 At the corner of Leonard street is the marble build- 
 ing of the New York Life Insurance Company, one of 
 the finest structures ever erected by private enterprise 
 in America. It is a model of taste and elegance, and 
 forms one of the most imposing features of the street, 
 being of pure white marble on both the Broadway and 
 Leonard street fronts. Its interior decorations and 
 arrangements are magnificent. 
 
 Canal street is now reached. This is a broad, hand- 
 some thoroughfare, extending from the Bowery to the 
 Hudson River, and crosses Broadway at right angles. 
 It was once the bed of a stream, which has since been 
 converted into a sewer. At the southwest corner stands 
 the Brandreth House, a monument to the success of the 
 "Patent Medicine" trade. From this point a fine view 
 is had of Broadway in both directions — from Trinity 
 Church on the south to Grace Church on the north. 
 The eye takes in the long lines of stately buildings, the 
 constantly moving throngs of pedestrians and vehicles, 
 , and the ear is deafened by the steady roar which goes 
 up unceasingly from the streets, for this is one of the 
 busiest parts of Broadway. 
 
 Higher up the street, between Broome and Spring, 
 is the St. Nicholas, once the most famous, and still one 
 of the most thoroughly comfortable hotels of New 
 Vork. In the square above is Tony Pastor's Theatre; 
 
AMONG THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
 147 
 
 and at the corner of Prince street, on the east side of 
 Broadway, is the imposing brownstone structure of 
 the Metropolitan Hotel, in the centre of which is the 
 handsome entrance to Niblo's Theatre, which lies im- 
 mediately in the rear of the hotel. Above Houston 
 street, on the west side of Broadway, is the marble 
 front of the Grand Central Hotel, rising to a height 
 of eight stories, and surmounted by a Mansard roof — 
 a monster establishment. Above this the buildings for 
 several squares are not as handsome as those lower 
 down the street, but improvements are being con- 
 stantly made, which will soon render this portion of 
 Broadway equal to anything above or below it. The 
 square between Washington and Waverly Places is 
 occupied by the simple but aristocratic-looking red 
 brick front of the New York Hotel, one of the most 
 ultra fashionable houses of the city, and the favorite 
 resort of the Southerners who visit the cit)\ Immedi- 
 ately opposite is Harrigan & Hart's new theatre, -the 
 most attractive variety show in the metropolis. A 
 square above, ^Astor Place opens to the eastward, and 
 we catch distant views of the Cooper Institute and the 
 Great Bible House, with the elevated railroad rising* 
 beyond them. The western side of Broadway here is 
 largely devoted to the book trade, several of the lead- 
 ing publishing houses of the country being quartered 
 in magnificent buildings, erected especially for their 
 uses. At 9th street, and extending on Broadway to 
 loth, and from Broadway back to F'ourth avenue, is 
 the immense iron structure occupied by the house of 
 A. T. Stewart & Co. — probably the largest establish- 
 ment of its kind in the world. Long rows of private 
 
148 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 carriages are always standing in front of it, and an un 
 broken throng of purchasers is constantly entering and 
 departing from its doors. Immediately above is Grace 
 Church, a handsome edifice of white marble, with a 
 pretty rectory of the same material ; and just opposite, 
 at the corner of loth street and Broadway, is the fine 
 building of the Methodist Book Concern, the street 
 floor of which is occupied by one of New York's mon- 
 ster dry goods stores. Here Broadway turns slightly 
 toward the northwest, and pursues a straight course 
 to Union Square, about a quarter of a mile distant. 
 This portion of the street is handsomely built, and im- 
 provements are being constantly made in it. The 
 stores are mainly devoted to the retail dry goods busi- 
 ness, millinery, fancy goods, and jewelry. At the 
 northeast corner of 13th street is Wallack's Theatre, 
 for many years the favorite place of amusement with 
 the dwellers in the great city. In the course of a few 
 months the house will be deserted by its present occu- 
 pants, and a new " Wallack's " will be opened higher 
 op town. 
 
 At 14th street, a noble thoroughfare, stretching across 
 the entire island from east to west, we reach Union 
 ■f Square, a handsome park of three or four acres, which 
 breaks the continuity of Broadway. This is one of the 
 handsomest of the smaller parks of New York, and is 
 tastefully adorned with shrubbery, statuary and foun- 
 tains. We shall refer to it again elsewhere. Broad- 
 way passes around Union Square in a northwesterly 
 direction, and is lined with large and elegant buildings 
 of marble and iron. At the southwest corner of 14th 
 street is the splendid iron building of the Domestic 
 
BROADWAY AT UNION SQUARE. 
 
 149 
 
 Sewing Machine Company. Just above 14th street 
 is Brentano's News Depot, the great literary rendez- 
 vous of New York ; and on the southwest corner of 
 15th street is the famous jewelry establishment of 
 Tiffany & Co., the largest of its kind in the United 
 States. 
 
 Union Square is left at 1 7th street, and we pass once 
 more into Broadway proper. This is the narrow- 
 est portion of the great street, and plans are being 
 constantly presented for widening it on the east side. 
 Consequently,while the west side of the street is built up 
 with magnificent structures of marble and iron, the east 
 side is lined with small, unpretending buildijigs. The 
 entire block on the west side, from 1 8th to 19th streets, 
 is occupied by a row of magnificent marble buildings, 
 used as retail dry goods and fancy goods stores. The 
 19th street end is occupied by the great dry goods 
 house of Arnold, Constable & Co. At the southwest 
 corner of 20th street is another of these monster dry 
 goods houses, a beautiful iron building, owned and 
 occupied by the firm of Lord & Taylor. The show 
 windows pf this establishment constitute one of the 
 prettiest sights of Broadway, and are filled with the 
 richest and rarest goods of every description, amount- 
 ing in value to thousands of dollars. In the 'square 
 above, on the east side, is the Park Theatre, one of 
 the prettiest, as regards the interior, in the city. 
 
 At 23d street Broadway crosses the Fifth avenue, 
 going obliquely to the northwest. From the south- 
 west corner of Broadway and 23d street we obtain 
 one of the finest views in the city. 23d street, one of 
 the widest in the metropolis, stretches away east and 
 
THE FINEST VIEW IN NEW YORK. 
 
 151 
 
 west, lined with stately buildings. On the right is 
 Madison Square, the handsomest of all the smaller 
 parks, beautifully shaded with noble trees, and adorned 
 with shrubbery, fountains and statuary. On the east 
 side of the Square is Madison avenue, one of the 
 stateliest and most fashionable streets of the metropolis. 
 The Fifth avenue leads away to the northward, a splen- 
 did mass of brownstone buildings, broken at intervals 
 by numerous church spires. To the northwest is 
 Broadway, lined with superb marble edifices as far as 
 the eye can reach. The throng of vehicles and pedes- 
 trians is very great here, coming and going in all 
 directions, and all the streets which centre here pre- 
 sent a gay and animated appearance, and the whole 
 scene constitutes a panorama unequaled by anything 
 in any of the great capitals of the Old World. 
 
 Crossing 23d street and Fifth avenue at the same 
 time, we come to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. This 
 immense building occupies an entire square, from 23d 
 to 24th streets, and fronts on both Fifth avenue and 
 Broadway. It is built of white marble, and is six stories 
 in height. The block from 24th to 25th streets is occu- 
 pied by the Albemarle and Hoffman Houses, in the 
 order named. Both are of white marble. Immediately 
 opposite, at the intersection of Broadway and Fifth 
 avenue, is a handsome granite monument, erected to 
 the memory of General W. J. Worth, a gallant soldier 
 of the Seminole and Mexican wars. Facino^ this is the 
 New York Club House, a tasteful red brick building, 
 frondng on Broadway and Fifth avenue. Above this, 
 and also fronting on both streets, is the famous restau- 
 rant of Delmonico. At the southwest corner of 26th 
 
152 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Street stands the St. James Hotel, also of white marble; 
 and just across .the way is the Victoria Hotel, formerly 
 known as the Stevens House. It is an immense pile 
 of red brick, with light stone trimmings, and is five 
 stories high, with a Mansard roof containing three 
 stories more. It was the first of the monster "Apart- 
 ment Houses" erected in New York, and was built by 
 the late Paran Stevens. On the northwest corner of 
 27th street is the Coleman House, and at the southeast 
 corner of 29th street is the Sturtevant House. On 
 the opposite corner of 29th street, also on the east side 
 of Broadway, is the Gilsey House, one of the most 
 magnificent hotel edifices in the city. It is built of iron, 
 is highly ornamented, and is painted white. Diagonally 
 opposite, on the west side of Broadway, is Daly*s 
 Broadway Theatre, formerly known as Wood's Museum. 
 At the southeast corner of 30th street rises Wallack's 
 New Theatre, one of the most perfectly appointed and 
 beautiful establishments of its kind in New York. 
 Immediately above this is the marble building of the 
 Grand Hotel. On 3 2d street, between Broadway and 
 Sixth avenue, is the superb marble structure of the 
 Union Dime Savings Bank, facing northward. 
 
 At 34th street Broadway crosses the Sixth avenue 
 obliquely, still pursuing its northwesterly course. 
 Above this point the street is poorly built up. At 42d 
 street are two handsome hotels, the Rossmore, on the 
 southwest corner, and the St. Cloud, on the southeast 
 corner, immediately opposite. Continuing its north- 
 westerly course, Broadway crosses the Seventh avenue 
 at 44th street. This portion of the street is sparsely 
 built, and is uninteresting unfil the neighborhood of the 
 
NIGHT SCENES ON BROADWAY. 
 
 153 
 
 Park is reached, where immense blocks of "Apartment 
 Houses" line it on both sides. 
 
 Below 14th street there are no street railways on 
 Broadway. From Union Square to the Central Park 
 there is a single horse-car line, which passes into Univer- 
 sity Place and thence southward below 14th street. 
 From Union Square to the lower end of the street 
 Broadway is traversed by several lines of stages, which 
 monopolize the street traffic in this section. On all 
 portions of the street the travel, as we have stated, is 
 very great. It is estimated that at least 20,000 vehicles 
 traverse Broadway every twenty-four hours. All day 
 the roar and the rush are continuous, and the scene is 
 brilliant and attractive. In the morning the throng 
 pours down town, and in the afternoon the tide changes, 
 and flows back northward to the upper portions of the 
 city. 
 
 As night comes on, the lower portion of Broadway 
 begins to be deserted. But few persons are to be 
 seen on the sidewalks, and the omnibuses and car- 
 riages have the roadway to themselves. By eight 
 o'clock Broadway below Canal street is almost de- 
 serted, save in the immediate neighborhood of the Post 
 Office. Gradually this region becomes silent also, and. 
 below Union Square but little of interest is to be seen. 
 The true night-life of Broadway is to be witnessed 
 chiefly between 23d and 34th streets. From Union 
 Square to 34th street the great thoroughfare is ablaze 
 with the electric light, which illumines it with the ra- 
 diance of day. Crowds throng the sidewalks ; the 
 lights of the omnibuses and carriages dart to and 
 fro along the roadway like myriads of fire-flies ; the 
 
164 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 great hotels, the theatres and restaurants, send out 
 their blaze of gas-lamps, and are alive with visitors. 
 The crowd is out for pleasure at night, and many and 
 varied are the forms which the pursuit of it takes. 
 Here is a family — father, mother, and children — out 
 for a stroll to see the sights they have witnessed a 
 hundred times, and which never grow dull ; there is a 
 party of theatre-goers, bent on an evening of innocent 
 amusement; here is a "gang of roughs," swaggering 
 along the sidewalk and jostling all who come within 
 their way; here a party of young bloods, out for a 
 lark, are drawing upon themselves the keen glances 
 of the stalwart policeman, as he slowly follows in their 
 rear. All sorts of people are out, and the scene is en- 
 livening beyond description. Moving rapidly through 
 the throng, sometimes in couples, sometimes alone, 
 and glancing swiftly and keenly at the men they pass, 
 are a number of flashily-dressed women, generally 
 young, but far from attractive. You would never mis- 
 take them for respectable women, and they do not in- 
 tend that you shall. They do not dare to stop and 
 converse with men on the street, for the eyes of the 
 police are upon them, and such a proceeding would be 
 met with a sharp order to " move on." These are the 
 " Street Walkers," one of the most degraded sections 
 of the " Lost Sisterhood." The men of the city shun 
 them, and their prey is the stranger. Should they sue- ' 
 ceed in attracting the attention of a victim, they dart 
 off down the first side street, and wait for their dupes 
 to join them. Woe to the man who follows after one 
 of these creatures. The next step is to some of the 
 k)w dives which still occupy too many of the cellars 
 
THE FASHIONABLE SHOPPING QUARTER. 155 
 
 along Broadway. Here bad or drugged liquors steal 
 away the senses of the luckless victim, and robbery, or 
 even worse violence, too often ends the adventure. 
 These women have gone so far down into the depths 
 of sin, that they scruple at nothing which will bring 
 them money. 
 
 The throng fills the street until a late hour of the 
 night. Then the theatres pour out their audiences to 
 join it, and for an hour or more the restaurants and 
 cafes are filled to their utmost capacity. Then, as 
 midnight comes on, the street becomes quieter and 
 more deserted. The lights in the buildings are extin- 
 guished, and gradually upper Broadway becomes silent 
 and deserted. New York has gone to bed ; and 
 Broadway enjoys a rest of a few hours, only to begin 
 at daybreak a repetition of the scenes of the previous 
 day. 
 
 ' The upper part of Broadway constitutes, as we have 
 said, the fashionable shopping quarter of New York. 
 Here are the finest stores, the richest and most tempt- 
 ing display of goods. New Yorkers prefer to shop 
 here, for they know that Broadway prices are no 
 higher than those charged in other sections, while the 
 stock of goods to choose from is larger and better. 
 You pay here only what an article is worth, and no 
 more, and you can rely upon the representations of the 
 employees in the leading houses as truthful. Yet it 
 must not be understood that all the Broadway mer- 
 chants are models of honesty and fair dealing. The 
 street reflects the good and the bad qualities of New 
 York, and there are many establishments along its 
 length where the purchaser must use his wits and keep 
 
156 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 his eyes open. The greatest scoundrels deal right 
 alongside of the most reputable merchants. In one 
 thing only does Broadway maintain a uniform standard. 
 It represents the cheerfulness and success of the great 
 city. No struggling merchants are seen along its miles 
 of palaces of trade, and failure has no place in the 
 street. Successful men alone deal here, no matter by 
 what methods the success has been won. Poverty is 
 banished to the back streets, and Broadway glitters in 
 the sunshine of prosperity. 
 
THE STAGE ROUTES. 
 
 157 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BROADWAY STAGES. 
 
 rOfTTLARITT OP THIS MODE OF CONVEYANCE — A CHEAP PLEASURE— DESCRIPTIOK «P THE VAR> 
 OUS LINES — THE STAGES AS REGARDS COMFORT — THE OUTSIDE SEATS — " KNOCKING DOWM 
 IN BY-GONE days" — THE PATENT CASH BOX SYSTEM — THE " SPOTTERS " — A NIGHT RIDB 
 WITH JEHU— THE " BOSS " ON THE WATCH — MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS — SKILL OF THE STAG* 
 DRIVERS — A STAGE DRIVER PHOTOGRAPHED— SUFFERINGS OF THE DRIVERS— UPS AND DOWN* 
 OF THE CRAFT — THE MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION. 
 
 In spite of the success of the elevated railways, 
 and of the large number of passengers carried by the 
 street car lines, the stages or omnibuses still manage 
 to hold their own. Until a year or two ago the fare on 
 all the lines was ten cents, but since the completion of 
 the elevated railways it has been reduced to five cents. 
 The low fares and the fact that, except for a short 
 distance on upper Broadway, the stages pursue routes 
 free from the presence and competition of the street cars,, 
 enable them still to command a very large share of the 
 street travel of the city. In Broadway, below Union 
 Square, and in Fifth and Madison avenues, they are 
 the sole dependence of those who wish to ride cheaply 
 along those thoroughfares. The principal lines now 
 are as follows: — 
 
 The Broadway and Fifth Avenue, starting from the 
 Fulton Ferry, on the East River, passing up Fulton 
 street to Broadway, along which it continues to 23d 
 street, where it enters Fifth avenue, and follows that 
 thoroughfare as far as the Windsor Hotel. 
 
 The Broadway, Twenty-third Street and Ninth 
 Avenue, running along Broadway from the South 
 
158 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Ferry to 23d street, thence along that street to Ninth 
 
 wenue, and up that avenue to 30th street. 
 
 The Madison Aveiiue Line, running from the Wall 
 street ferry on the East River, up Wall street to Broad- 
 way, thence to Madison avenue at 23d street, and up 
 that avenue to 42d street. 
 
 The stages are clumsy, uncomfortable vehicles, 
 inconvenient to enter, fatiguing to ride in, and danger- 
 ous to leave. They are neither as commodious nor 
 as comfortable as those of the great European cities, 
 and unlike them, have no seats on top. There is room 
 on the driver's seat for two passengers, one on each 
 side of him, but to reach these one must be expert at 
 climbing. They are, by far, the best places from which 
 to view the street, and if the driver is inclined to be 
 talkative, many a pleasant half hour may be spent in 
 chatting with him. 
 
 Uncomfortable as they are, the stages are an insti- 
 tution of New York, and are liberally patronized. One 
 reason of this is that they constitute, as has been stated, 
 the only means of cheap travel on the streets they 
 frequent ; and another is that from them one can enjoy 
 one of the best views of Broadway and the magnificent 
 avenues, with their wonderful sights, for the insignifi- 
 cant sum of half a dime — certainly one of the cheapest 
 as well as one of the most genuine pleasures the city 
 affords. 
 
 In former days the driver of a stage was furnished 
 with a cash-box, which was securely fastened to the roof 
 of the coach, at his left hand. All the money received 
 passed through his hands, and he had frequent oppor- 
 tunities of " knocking down," or appropriating a modest 
 
KNOCKING DOWN. 
 
 159 
 
 sum to his own use. This led him to be very zealous 
 in picking up passengers, for the larger the receipts 
 the greater his chance of " knocking down " without 
 detection. It was in those days a well-established fact 
 that those who w^ere the most skillful in helping them- 
 selves always made the largest returns to the office. 
 
 Now, however, each coach is provided with the 
 Slawson patent cash-box, which is placed inside, at the 
 front end of the vehicle. As he starts on his rounds 
 the driver is furnished with little envelopes containing 
 various sums, ranging from ten cents to two dollars. 
 Each envelope contains a stage ticket and the balance 
 of the amount, whatever it may be, in money. Passen- 
 gers entering the coach, if they have the amount in 
 change, deposit it in the Slawson box,w^hich is so placed 
 that the driver can see w'hether the correct fare is paid or 
 not. If change is desired, the money is handed to the 
 driver through a hole in the roof in the rear of his seat» 
 and he returns an envelope containing a ticket and the 
 remainder of the sum given him in change. The ticket 
 is then deposited in the cash box by the passenger. As 
 he must return the envelopes given him at starting, or 
 their equivalent in money, the driver has no opportun- 
 ity of "knocking down." His only opportunity for 
 practicing the old game lies in the fares paid him by 
 the outside riders, who cannot make use of the cash box. 
 This has its risks, however, for he is closely watched, 
 and the number of " outsiders " is carefully counted by 
 " spotters " or spies placed along the route by the pro- 
 prietor. Sometimes the "boss " takes this office upon 
 himself, to the great disgust of the driver. 
 
 One night, not long since, a Fifth avenue stage was 
 
160 NEW YORK. 
 
 passing the Fifth avenue Hotel, on its downward trip. 
 Among the passengers was an outsider, who sat on the 
 driver's right, enjoying the beautiful panorama of the 
 lighted streets, and chatting socially with the knight of 
 the whip. As they came opposite the great hotel, with 
 its blaze of gas and electric lights, the driver turned 
 suddenly to his companion, and exclaimed: — 
 
 "Do you see that old duffer with a slouched hat — 
 that one just sneaking out of sight? He's my boss. 
 If I was worth as much as he is, I wouldn't stand 
 around all night watching stages." 
 
 "How much is he worth?" 
 'Bout four million." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " He ? Why, he's old Andrews, who runs the whole 
 outfit. Thought everybody knew him. We know him. 
 He runs seventy 'busses on this line and scoops in 
 three'r four hundred a day, clean money. He's been 
 offered's high's $200,000 cash for the line, but he 
 wouldn't have it." 
 
 "What keeps him around here at night?" 
 
 ''Just'er see that we don't 'knock down' the fares of 
 passengers on top. We have to make a special return 
 on the last trip for all top fares. The old chap hangs 
 around to catch the boys." 
 
 Just then an up-town stage of the same line was 
 passed. There was a mysterious interchange of sig- 
 nals between the two drivers. The upward bound had 
 been warned by the downward bound that the "boss" 
 was on duty. 
 
 "Sometimes," continued the driver, in his slow, 
 scornful way, "he's there by the Fifth Avenue, where 
 
THE "boss" ON THE WATCH. 
 
 161 
 
 you saw him; next trip he'll be down to Bleecker 
 street; maybe he'll jump in and ride a few blocks. 
 He's a sly one. He thinks more of a cent with a hole 
 in it than I do of a good dinner. He hangs around 
 every night till one o'clock, when the last 'bus goes up. 
 He's got an awful grip on his gold, but some day some- 
 body'll have his money to spend." The thought of it 
 gave an extra snap to the whip. 
 
 "He does look pretty old, that's a fact." 
 
 "Don't you worry about his dying off-hand. His 
 father is alive now, up in Delaware county. No, sir; 
 if I had his stamps I wouldn't hang around nights to 
 catch a five-cent fare. When he finds a driver short a 
 fare he docks him fifty cents." 
 
 "How do the receipts now compare with the ten- 
 cent days?" 
 
 "We do more than double the business. A stage 
 averages $3 more a day since they cut down to five 
 cents. We used to take in $6 or $y, and now we count 
 on from ^9 to $11." 
 
 It requires the nicest skill to drive a stage on Broad- 
 way. Not only must the driver guide his ponderous 
 vehicle safely through the crowded mass, but his quick 
 eye must be all over the street, on the watch for pas- 
 sengers, and he must be ready to stop to take up or 
 let them down at any moment, and in such a manner 
 as will not block the already crowded street. The ease 
 and accuracy with which a stage will dart through a 
 crowd of Broadway vehicles, never colliding with or 
 in any way touching them, shows that Jehu has a firm 
 hand and a quick eye. 
 
 The stage drivers constitute a distinct and peculiar 
 11 
 
162 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 class. Their work is hard, their pay small, and they 
 show signs of the hard lives they lead. From six 
 o'clock in the morning until midnight they are coming 
 and going, in all weathers and in all seasons— Sunday, 
 on which day the stages do not run, being their only 
 time of rest. They are generally middle-aged men, 
 and some are far advanced in years. They are corpu- 
 lent, heavy-limbed, and large-handed men, with faces 
 seasoned by the weather, to which they are constantly 
 exposed; and when on their feet, walk with an un- 
 steady, rolling gait, caused by their being so constantly 
 on the box. They have no distinct dress, and get 
 themselves up according to their own fancies ; and it 
 must be confessed, that while their costumes may be 
 Artistic, they are ^ not neat or attractive. The odor of 
 the horse-blanket clings to them always. The ma- 
 jority of them have driven their routes for yeare, and 
 have witnessed all the changes along them for the past 
 twenty-five or thirty years. Some have been on the 
 lines longer, and have seen their routes gradually 
 lengthen, year by year, as the city has grown north- 
 kvard. They can tell you many an interesting tale of 
 ihe streets through which you pass, for the local his- 
 tories of these thoroughfares are as household words to 
 them. With strangers they are silent and uncommu- 
 nicative, but an offer of a chew of tobacco or a cigar 
 will unseal their lips, and they grow eloquent over the 
 hard life they lead, and will impart to you more inter- 
 esting information concerning the localities through 
 which you are passing than you -can obtain from any 
 other source. They are masters of the science of 
 "chaffing," and the eloquence with which they assail 
 
LIFE OF A STAGE DRIVER. 163 
 
 drivers of rival lines is sublime in its way. They suf- 
 fer greatly from exposure to the weather. In the hot 
 days of summer they protect themselves from the fierce 
 rays of the sun by large cotton umbrellas, securely 
 fastened to the roof of the vehicle ; but it is no uncom- 
 mon thing for them to fall victims to sunstroke. In 
 the winter, when the snow and sleet swirl about him, 
 and lash his face and head with their pitiless fury, the 
 driver wraps his lower limbs in a mass of blankets, 
 and protects the rest of his body with a succession of 
 overcoats. His sufferings, in spite of these precau- 
 tions, are often terrible, and his first care, upon arriv- 
 ing at the end of his route, is to hurry to the nearest 
 saloon and comfort himself with a tumblerful of hot 
 whisky or gin. Who shall blame him? Without this, 
 even his iron constitution would be powerless to with- 
 stand the terrible exposure to which he is subjected. 
 Oftentimes the horses will drag the coach into the 
 stable in the midst of some wild winter storm, whih^ 
 the driver sits motionless on his box. The stable mer\ 
 lift him down, to find him frozen almost stiff Yet, in 
 spite of its hardships, the life has a fascination for Jehu. 
 Once a stage driver, always a stage driver, is the motta 
 of the craft, and it would be a powerful inducement, 
 indeed, that could cause him to surrender the rein:^ 
 that he has handled so long, and betake himself to 
 some other mode of life. He fears two things only — 
 the loss of his place on the box and falling into the 
 hands of the stalwart policemen who guard the most 
 crowded portions of Broadway. He submits in humble 
 silence to the reprimands, and meekly and promptly 
 obeys the orders, of these stern guardians of the street^ 
 
164 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 for well he knows that trouble with "the cops'* means 
 a month for him on "the Island," and probably a per- 
 manent loss of place. The latter would be ruin to 
 him. He has no other resource, is fit for no other em- 
 ployment. His beggarly wages do not allow him to 
 lay up any money, and he knows he must stick to his 
 box as long as he can. Fortunately his iron constitu- 
 tion enables him to hold his place far on into old age, 
 and, as a general rule, he leaves it only for the. long 
 rest in which wages can avail him nothing. 
 
 The stage drivers have a Mutual Benefit Association, 
 which looks after them when they are sick or disabled. 
 They are generally a healthy set, and do not find it 
 necessary to call on the Association often. 
 
THE CENTRE OF FASHION. 
 
 165 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIFTH AVENUE. 
 
 »IFTH AVENUE THE CENTRE OF FASHION AND WEALTH— DESCRIPTION OF THE STREET—A 
 
 GRAND PANORAMA LOWER FIFTH AVENUK— ENCROACHMENTS OF BUSINESS— FOURTEENTH 
 
 STREET— THE " SWALLOW- TAIL" DEMOCRACY— AMONG THE PIANO MAKERS CHICKERIN* 
 
 HALL CHURCHES CLUBS AND ART GALLERIES— TWENTY-THIRD STREET DELMONICO S 
 
 THE ASTOR RESIDENCES— STEWART'S MARBLE PALACE— A REGION OF BROWN STONE— UPPER 
 FIFTH AVENUE— THE HOTELS — THE CATHEDRAL — THE VANDERBILT MANSIONS — ALONG 
 THE CENTRAL PARK— THE LENOX LIBRARY— THE FIFTH AVENUE MAN*ONS— HOMES OF 
 WEALTH AND LUXURY — HOW THEY ARE FITTED UP — FIFTH AVENUE ON NEW YEAr's NIGHT — 
 LIFE IN FIFTH AVENUE — THE WHIRL OF DISSIPATION — WHATITCOSTS — THE STRUGGLE FOR 
 
 SHOW THE " NEWLY RICH " DARK SIDE OF FIFTH AVENUE LIFE THE SKELETONS FIFTH 
 
 AVENUE HUSBANDS AND WIVES — THE CHILDREN — " ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GUTTERS." 
 
 Fifth avenue is the fashionable street, par excellence, 
 of New York. It commences at Washington Square 
 and extends to the Harlem river, a distance of nearly 
 six miles, and is a broad, well-paved, and superbly built 
 street for the first three miles of its course. To live 
 and die in a Fifth avenue mansion is the dearest wish 
 of every New Yorker's heart. Though the lower 
 squares are being rapidly encroached upon by business 
 edifices, the street as a whole maintains its character as 
 the most magnificent avenue of residences in the world. 
 The buildings along its course are mainly of brown- 
 stone, though in the upper section, near the Central 
 Park, marble and the lighter-colored stones are being 
 used with pleasing effect. 
 
 The avenue begins at Waverly Place, the northern 
 boundary of Washington Square, and runs in a straight 
 line to 59th street, the southern boundary of the Cen- 
 tral Park, after which it skirts the eastern side of the 
 Park to iiothstreet. At 120th street its continuity 
 
166 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 is broken by Mount Morris Park, around which 
 it passes, and commences again at 124th street, 
 and pursues an unbroken line to the Harlem river. 
 From Washington Square to the Central Park, a dis- 
 tance of three miles, it is built up solidly, with magnifi- 
 cent residences, splendid hotels and imposing churches. 
 From 59th street, along the eastern side, it is being built 
 up rapidly, and before many years have elapsed this 
 section will be an unbroken line of buildinofs. It will be 
 a very pleasant section, too, for the western boundary 
 of the street will be the open expanse of the Central 
 Park, and the occupants of the houses will have before 
 them one of the loveliest landscapes in the world, as a 
 source of perpetual enjoyment. From the upper end 
 of the park to Mount Morris there are, as yet, no im- 
 provements. Passing Mount Morris and entering the 
 Harlem section of the avenue, we find it rapidly grow- 
 ing, the houses here being equal in splendor to those 
 below or opposite the park. 
 
 Starting on our tour of inspection from Washington 
 Square, we find the first blocks of the avenue occupied 
 by stately, old-fashioned mansions, and shaded by fine 
 trees. At the corner of Clinton Place is the Brevoort 
 House, one of the most exclusive hostelries of the 
 city, and largely patronized by English visitors. At 
 the northwest corner of loth street is the Episcopal 
 Church of the Ascension, a handsome brownstone struc- 
 ture, and on the southwest corner of nth street is the 
 First Presbyterian Church, equally handsome, and also 
 of brownstone. Fourteenth street h a busy, bustling, 
 thoroughfare at its intersection with the avenue, and 
 here are a number of fashionable ''Apartment Houses,'* 
 
LOWER FIFTH AVENUE. 
 
 167 
 
 -which form quite a feature of the avenue. Here the 
 electric lamps begin, and extend along Fifth avenue to 
 34th street. At the southwest corner of 15th street is 
 the splendid building of the Manhattan Club. This is 
 the headquarters of what is known in New York as 
 ^'the Swallow Tail Democracy," and the club consists 
 of the better elements of the Democratic party. Busi- 
 ness is largely invading this section of the avenue ; and 
 here are the warerooms of the most famous piano 
 makers, such as Chickering, Weber and Knabe. The 
 Chickerings have a magnificent hall attached to their 
 establishment, which is used for concerts, lectures, and 
 other entertainments. It stands on the northwest cor- 
 ner of 1 8th street. At the southeast corner of 19th 
 street is the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, for- 
 merly in charge of the Rev. Dr. John Hall. At the 
 southwest corner of 21st street is the South Reformed 
 Dutch Church, a beautiful edifice of brownstone. On the 
 opposite side of 21st street is the Union Club, generally 
 known as "The Rich Man's Club," since it embraces a 
 greater aggregate of wealth among its members than 
 any club in the city. Across the avenue is the Lotus 
 Club, the chief rendezvous of the art and literary pro- 
 fessions. On the southwest corner of 2 2d street is 
 Knoedler's Art Gallery^ a branch of the famous estab- 
 lishment of Goupil & Co., of Paris. It is always open 
 to visitors, and is filled with an interesting collection of 
 works of art. There is no pleasanter place in New 
 York in which to pass an idle hour. 
 
 At 23d street. Fifth avenue crosses Broadway, and 
 passing along the western side of Madison Square pur- 
 sues its northward course. On the left is the Fifth 
 
168 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Avenue Hotel, with the magnificent vista of Broadway 
 extending beyond it, and on the right is Madison 
 Square, with its fine trees and noble statues. The 
 Worth Monument, already described, is passed on the 
 left, and at the corner of 25th street is the New York 
 Club, beyond which is"Delmonico's," extending through 
 the block to Broadway. At the southeast corner of 
 27th street stands the Victoria Hotel, while immedi- 
 ately opposite, occupying the entire block on the east 
 side of the avenue, from 26th to 27th streets, is the 
 Hotel Brunswick, well known for its splendid restaur- 
 ant and high prices. Business is encroaching upon this 
 portion of the avenue, and bids fair to monopolize it in 
 a few years. At the northwest corner of 29th street is 
 a handsome church of white granite, belonging to the 
 Dutch Reformed faith. Its tall spire is surmounted by 
 a gilt-wreathed vane in the shape of a game chicken, 
 and this has caused irreverent New York to dub the 
 edifice "the Church of the Holy Rooster." The block on 
 the west side of the avenue, between 33d and 34tli 
 streets, is occupied by two stately brick mansions, one 
 at each corner. These are the residences of John Jacob 
 and William Astor, sons of the late William B. Astor. 
 At the northwest corner of 34th street stands the mar- 
 ble palace of the late A. T. Stewart, now the residence 
 of his widow. Its interior decorations and arrange- 
 ments are sumptuous, and in keeping with the exterior. 
 At the time of its erection it was regarded as the most 
 magnificent in the New World. On the opposite cor- 
 ner is a noble brownstone mansion^ for many years 
 the residence of Mr. Stewart. " We are now in a re- 
 gion of an unbroken line of architectural beauty; hand- 
 
A REGION OF BROWN STONE. 
 
 some churches and mansions abound, and the wonderful 
 changes that are taking place in the upper portion of 
 New York are written on every side. Superb mansions 
 are continually being pulled down to make way for 
 structures still more palatial, and the rage for surpass- 
 ing each other in the splendor of their domiciles seems 
 to have taken possession of our merchants, bankers 
 and railroad princes." The window fronts in this section 
 of the avenue present a pretty sight during the sum- 
 mer months, when they are "decorated with tiled flower 
 boxes, laden with a perfect glory of blooms in all the 
 colors of the rainbow. This is a charming charac- 
 teristic of the leading residence streets in the aristo- 
 cratic portion of the city, and speaks volumes for the 
 taste and love of beauty inherent even among those 
 who may have made their money so suddenly as to be 
 without the social and aesthetic culture which makes 
 wealth the most enjoyable. Fifth avenue is exception- 
 ally noticeable for this lavish display of flowers on the 
 window ledges, that seem to be literally blossoming 
 out of the brown stone a little distance away." 
 
 At the northwest corner of 35th street is a plain 
 dwelling of brick, with light stone trimmings. This 
 was the residence of the late William B. Astor, and 
 here he died, a few years ago. Immediately across the 
 avenue is Christ (Episcopal) Church, and on the north- 
 west corner of 37th street is the Brick (Presbyterian) 
 Church, for so many years under the pastoral care of 
 the Rev. Dr. Gardiner Spring. At th^ northeast cor- 
 ner of 39th street is the new building of the Union 
 League Club, a palatial structure, and the most per- 
 fectly-appointed club-house in America, The west side 
 
170 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 of the* avenue, from 40th to 42 d street, is occupied by 
 the old Distributing Reservoir, a massive, fortress-Hke 
 structure, of stone, from the summit of which a fine 
 view of the noble thoroughfare may be enjoyed. Im- 
 mediately opposite is Rutger's College, a handsome 
 castellated structure in the Gothic style. The north- 
 west corner of 42d street is occupied by "The Flor- 
 ence," the finest specimen of the palatial "Apartment 
 House" in the city, and a noticeable feature of the 
 avenue. The northeast corner of 43d street is occu- 
 pied by the superb Jewish Temple E-manu-el, and 
 diagonally opposite, on the southwest corner of 45 th. 
 street, is the Church of the Divine Paternity, of which 
 the late Dr. E. W. Chapin was for many years the 
 pastor. Nearly opposite, between 45th and 46th 
 streets, is the pretty Church of the Heavenly Rest. 
 On the east side of the avenue, occupying the block 
 from 47th to 48th streets, is the massive red-brick 
 front of the Windsor Hotel, one of the most elegant 
 and costly houses in the city. Opposite, on the north- 
 west corner of 4Sth street, is the Collegiate Dutch Re- 
 formed Church, an elaborate structure of brown stone. 
 At the southeast corner of 50th street is " The Buck- 
 ingham," a fashionable hotel, built upon the principle 
 that "land is cheap up stairs." The block above, from 
 50th to 51st street, is taken up by the magnificent 
 Cathedral of St. Patrick. This is, in all respects, the 
 most superb church in America. It is built, within and 
 without, of purQ white marble, and occupies the most 
 commanding position on the avenue. The next block, 
 on the east side, from 51st to 5 2d, is occupied by the 
 Roman Catholic Male Orphan Asylum and its grounds. 
 
UPPER FIFTH AVENUE. 
 
 171 
 
 The block on the west side of the avenue, immediately 
 opposite the Asylum, contains two superb mansions of 
 brown stone, connected by a covered gallery, into 
 which the main entrance leads. On the northwest 
 corner of 5 2d street is another elegant and artistic 
 mansion, of light gray stone, elaborately ornamented. 
 These are the famous Vanderbilt mansions, and con- 
 stitute the finest residences in New York. At the 
 northwest corner of 53d street is the massive brown- 
 stone Church of St. Thomas (Episcopal), oae of the 
 noblest church edifices on the continent. Between 
 54th and 55th streets, on the same side of the avenue, 
 is St. Luke's (Episcopal) Hospital, standing in the 
 midst of handsomely ornamented grounds. On the 
 northwest corner of 55th street is another of the grand 
 churches of New York. It is built of brown stone, 
 with a lofty spire, and belongs to the Presbyterian 
 faith. It is under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. 
 John Hall, one of the most eloquent divines of the day. 
 At the northwest corner of 57th street is a large man- 
 sion of red brick, with gray stone trimmings, the prop- 
 erty of another member of the Vanderbilt family. A 
 row of fine houses, of white marble, occupies the block 
 on the east side, from 57th to 58th streets. 
 
 At 59th street the avenue reaches the Central Park. 
 It is handsomely built along the east side of the street 
 for a considerable distance, and new houses are con- 
 standy going up. There is nothing of special interest 
 to be seen, however, until 70th street is reached. Here 
 stands the Lenox Library, a massive building of 
 granite. From this point to the Harlem River the 
 street is without interest apart from its handsome resi- 
 dences. 
 
THE FIFTH AVENUE PALACES. 
 
 173 
 
 The principal material used in the construction of the 
 buildings on the avenue is brown stone. This gives to 
 the street a sombre look, but of late years, white mar- 
 ble, brick, and the lighter-colored stones have been 
 used to a great extent, and the upper portion of the 
 avenue presents *a much lighter and more attractive 
 appearance than the regions below it. In spite of the 
 general uniformity of the street, however, it is a grand 
 sight upon which the eye rests from any point of view. 
 
 The interior of the houses is in keeping with their 
 external grandeur. They are decorated in magnificent 
 style by artists of ability and taste, and are furnished 
 in the most superb and costly manner. Rare and 
 valuable works of art abound in all, and everything that 
 luxury can devise or wealth provide is here in abund- 
 ance. The softest and richest carpets cover the floors 
 and deaden every foot fall, the windows are draped 
 with curtains the cost of which would provide an 
 average family with a home in other cities, and which shut 
 out the bright daylight and give to the apartments a 
 soft, luxurious glow; costly chandeliers shed a flood of 
 warm light through the elegantly furnished rooms, and 
 through the half open doors you may catch a view of 
 the library, with its rows of daintily bound books in 
 elaborate cases, its works of art scattered about in 
 tasteful negligence, and its rich and cosy furniture.* 
 The " Library" forms quite a feature in a Fifth avenue 
 mansion. Whether the books are read or not, it is the 
 correct thing to have. The chambers and upper rooms 
 are furnished with equal magnificence, the cost of fitting 
 up one of these houses sometimes exceeding the 
 amount paid for the building. Everything is perfect in its 
 
174 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 way, each appointment being the most sumptuous that 
 wealth can purchase. Some of these mansions are 
 furnished with rare taste and good judgment, but 
 many, on the other hand, are simply vast collections of 
 flashy and costly furniture and decorations, their own- 
 ers lacking the culture necessary to make a proper dis- 
 position of their riches. There is no more attractive 
 sight to the stranger in New York than a stroll along 
 Fifth avenue about dusk on New Year's Day. It is the 
 custom of those who receive calls on that day to leave 
 window curtains partly drawn, and through these open- 
 ings one can see the richly furnished, brightly lighted 
 drawing rooms, with their elegantly dressed occupants, 
 and can thus enjoy a succession of "pictures from life" 
 unequaled in any part of the world. 
 
 The dwellers in the Fifth avenue mansions represent 
 all the various phases of the wealthier class of New 
 York. You will find here many persons whose fortunes 
 are so secure and great that they can amply afford the 
 style in which they live ; and also many who are sacri- 
 ficing everything in order to shine for awhile in such 
 splendor. Men make money very quickly in New 
 York. A Fifth avenue mansion is either purchased or 
 rented, and then commences a life of fashion and dis- 
 sipation to which neither they nor their families are 
 accustomed. Everything is sacrificed to maintain their 
 newly gained position ; money flows like water ; the 
 recently gotten wealth vanishes, and in a few years 
 the family disappears from the avenue, to begin life 
 anew in an humbler sphere. The history of the street 
 abounds in such cases. No wonder so many men liv- 
 ing in these palaces have weary, careworn faces, rest 
 
THE DWELLERS ON FIFTH AVENUE. 
 
 175 
 
 less glances, and quick, nervous ways. The strain they 
 are living under to keep their places in the avenue is 
 too great. They are not able to keep pace with those 
 whose firmly-secured millions justify them in a lavish 
 style of living, and they know it. They dread the day 
 that must inevitably come, when they must leave all 
 this luxury behind them and go out into the world 
 again to begin life anew. Even if they maintain their 
 places, they cannot resist the conviction that their splen- 
 dor has been bought at too dear a price. 
 
 The avenue mansions contain many families of wealth 
 and culture, many whose names have been household 
 words in New York for generations. These live elegantly, 
 and in proportion to their means, but avoid show and 
 vulgar display. They* are courtly in manner, hospit- 
 able and warm-hearted, and constitute fine specimens 
 of the cultured American. They do not make up the 
 majority of the dwellers in the avenue, however. These 
 latter represent mainly the newly rich families, that 
 have risen to affluence through the lucky ventures of 
 the husband and father, and have come to their new 
 honors without the refinement or culture necessary to 
 sustain them with dignity. You may know them by 
 their loud voices, vulgar countenances, flashy dressing, 
 and coarse ways. They plunge headlong into the dis- 
 sipations of society with a recklessness unknown to 
 persons accustomed to such pleasures, and their fast 
 life soon tells upon them. The men go to their busi- 
 ness heavy and jaded in the morning, after a night of 
 fashionable dissipation, and the women sink into an 
 indolence from which nothing can rouse them save a 
 renewal of the excesses which caused their lassitude. 
 
176 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 They greatly err who imagine that the possessor of 
 a Fifth avenue mansion is, as a matter of course, to be 
 envied. These splendid palaces hide many aching 
 hearts, and could tell many a tale of sorrow, and even 
 of shame, could they speak. The master of the house 
 goes often to his business in the morning with knit 
 brows and a tragedy lurking in his heart, and returns 
 with reluctant steps to his splendid palace in the even- 
 ing ; and madame, for all her gorgeous surroundings^ 
 fails to wear a happy or contented look, and sighs as 
 she thinks of the price she has paid for such luxury. 
 Generally the skeleton is kept securely within the 
 closet, but sometimes it will break forth, and then 
 Fifth avenue is startled for a moment by its revelations. 
 Sometimes the scandal is hushed up, but frequently the 
 divorce courts are called in to straighten matters out. 
 
 One does not see home life in its truest sense in the 
 avenue. The demands of fashion are too exacting to 
 permit an indulgence in this richest of pleasures. Day 
 and night are spent in a ceaseless whirl of gayety, and 
 in many cases the only times husband and wife are 
 really in their home for more than a few hours at a 
 time, is when their parlors are crowded with guests in 
 attendance upon some grand entertainment given by 
 them. Thus it happens that they lead different lives, 
 with but little common interest between them. The 
 husband has his " affinity," and seeks in her society the 
 pleasures his wife will not share with him ; and madame 
 has her "lovers," who are as much of a grief as a happi- 
 ness to her, as she lives in constant terror of being 
 compromised. Fortunately, children are scarce in the 
 avenue ; the necessities of fashion forbid large families. 
 
FIFTH AVENUE CHILDREN. 
 
 177 
 
 Such as come receive little of a mother's care until they 
 are old enough to be put on exhibition, to accompany 
 ^' mamma" in a drive through the Park, or to occupy 
 the front seats of the opera-box, when they should be 
 soundly sleeping in their beds. They are dressed to 
 death, are always in charge of a maid when out for a 
 walk, and know little of the pure, free joys of child- 
 hood. So they grow up to be premature men and 
 women, fitted only to imitate the follies, and, alas, too 
 often to repeat the bitter experience of their parents. 
 
 After all, in spite of its splendor, in spite of its wealth, 
 and its mad round of pleasures, Fifth avenue does not 
 hold the happiest homes in New York. You can see 
 the glare and the glitter of the false metal all around 
 you ; but if you would find the pure gold of domestic 
 happiness, you must seek it in more modest sections 
 of the great city. 
 
178 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE ELEVATED RAILROADS. 
 
 tWCONVENlENCES OF OLD-STYLE TRAVEL — PLANS FOR RAPID TRANSIT— THE FIRST ELEVATEm 
 
 RAILROAD — THE PRESENT SYSTEM — THE METROPOLITAN AND NEW YORK ELEVATED ROADS 
 
 THE MANHATTAN COMPANY — DESCRIPTION OF THE ROADS — HOW THEY ARE BUILT — MODE OF 
 OPERATIONS — STATIONS — EMPLOYEES — RAPID TRAINS — ADVANTAGES OF THE SYSTEM — IT* 
 DRAWBACKS — IMMENSE TRAFFIC — RESULTS OF THE ELEVATED SYSTEM — RAPID GROWTH OF 
 THE UPPER PART OF THE CITY — A RIDE ON THE ELEVATED RAILROADS — THE NIGHT TRAINS 
 — FROM THE BATTERY TO HARLEM BY NIGHT. 
 
 The peculiar conformation of Manhattan Island ren- 
 dered it impossible for New York to grow but in one 
 direction — from south to north. As the lower portions 
 of the city were taken for business purposes, the popu- 
 lation moved northward. In the course of time this 
 state of affairs came about: the majority of the dwellers 
 in the city had their places of business down town, at 
 a distance of several miles from their residences. To 
 reach the former in the morning, and return to the lat- 
 ter in the afternoon, they were dependent upon the 
 horse-cars and stages. These trips consumed a great 
 deal of time, and imposed upon the people an immense 
 amount of fatigue. Early in the morning and late in 
 the evening the cars and stages were crowded, so that 
 often the entire journey had to be made standing ; the 
 vehicles were dirty and badly ventilated, and every 
 discomfort was encountered. During heavy snows, 
 hours would be sometimes consumed in making the 
 journey, and at all times street blockades caused the 
 loss of much valuable time. Altogether, the whole 
 system of street travel was badly arranged, uncom- 
 
THE FIRST ELEVATED RAILROAD. 179 
 
 fortable, and entirely unsuited to the needs of a city 
 like New York. 
 
 This led to many plans for " rapid transit that is, 
 for a system of roads running" the length of the city, 
 and operated by steam, which should shorten the time 
 between given points and increase the comforts of the 
 traveler. At first these plans were for underground 
 roads, but they were rejected almost as fast as pro- 
 posed, as it was found that they would cost several 
 million dollars per mile, and require a generation 
 for their construction. After various other plans had 
 been proposed, a company was chartered and began 
 the construction of an elevated railroad on Green- 
 wich street and Ninth avenue, from the Battery to the 
 Central Park. It was proposed to operate the road 
 by means of an endless wire rope, worked by station- 
 ary engines at stated points along the line. This 
 proved a failure, however ; the endless ropes would not 
 work, and the stationary engines had to be abandoned. 
 The road was then strengthened, dummy engines 
 placed on it, and about 1870 it was opened for travel. 
 After experiencing various changes of fortune it passed 
 into the hands of the New York Elevated Railroad 
 Company, and has since been rebuilt and strength- 
 ened. It now forms a part of the western division of 
 the New York Elevated Railroad. 
 
 The next project was the Metropolitan Elevated 
 Railroad, to run from Rector and New Church streets, 
 by College Place, West Broadway, South Fifth avenue, 
 Amity street and Sixth avenue to the Central Park. 
 This scheme encountered a great deal of opposition 
 from property holders along the route, but this was at 
 
180 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 last overcome, the road was built, and was opened for 
 travel about three years ago. 
 
 At present there are four lines of Elevated Roads 
 in successful operation in New York. These are the 
 Sixth and Second avenue lines, belonging to the Metro- 
 politan Elevated Railroad Company ; and the Third and 
 Ninth avenue lines, belonging to the New York Eleva- 
 ted Railroad Company. They all run from south to 
 north, in the direction of the length of the city. Both 
 of the above named companies have leased their lines 
 to the Manhattan Elevated Railroad Company, and all 
 the Knes are thus consolidated under one management. 
 
 The Metropolitan Elevated Road begins at Rector 
 street, in the rear of Trinity Church, and pursues the 
 following route: Along New Church, Church and Mur- 
 ray streets to College Place, thence to West Broadway, 
 to South Fifth avenue, which it follows to Amity street, 
 along Amity street to Sixth avenue, and along Sixth 
 avenue to 59th street and the Central Park. At 53d 
 street a branch leads off to Ninth avenue, along which 
 the line is carried to i loth street, where it crosses to 
 Eighth avenue, and continues along that street to the 
 Harlem River at 1 55th street. Here a bridge over the 
 river enables the road to connect with the "New York 
 City and Northern Road," for High Bridge, Fordham, 
 and other points on the mainland. The latter road 
 will eventually be carried through to Yonkers and Tar- 
 rytown, and will thus form, with the Elevated Road, a 
 direct route from the lower part of New York to the 
 pleasantest points on the Hudson River. 
 
 The Metropolitan Road occupies the centre of the 
 streets it traverses, and is built in the most substantial 
 
THE METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILROAD. 181 
 
 manner, combining both lightness and solidity. The 
 foundations for the supports are laid in concrete, stone, 
 and brick work. Four long rods pass up through the 
 heavy foundation stones, and around these is built up 
 the brick work, inclining gradually inward from the base 
 to the top. The rods extend several inches above the 
 brickwork, and fit into holes at the four corners of the 
 heavy iron castings, in which are the sockets for the 
 reception of the supporting columns. These castings 
 are secured to the rods by means of screw nuts. The 
 columns, light in appearance, are calculated to bear 
 a strain more than double that to which they are sub- 
 jected, so that the margin of safety is large. Stout iron 
 girders are laid across the street from column to col- 
 umn, and these are joined and strengthened by stays 
 and beams of iron running in every direction. Above 
 this is built the road bed, also of iron, firmly fastened 
 together and strengthened in every possible manner, 
 and on this is laid the road, consisting of a double track 
 of steel rails. The whole structure forms a sort of 
 arcade in the middle of the street, above the tracks of 
 the horse railways. It seems a light and graceful 
 affair, and, when viewed from below, appears scarcely 
 capable of sustaining the immense strain put upon it. 
 As a general rule the roadway is on a level with the 
 second-story windows of the houses by which it passes. 
 At I loth street, however, it reaches the height of sixty- 
 three feet, and presents one of the most audacious and 
 skillful specimens of engineering to be found on the 
 globe. It makes a gigantic curve here, from Ninth to 
 Eighth avenue, and from the street the trains passing 
 «V€r it seem to be running in mid air. Even the cool- 
 
182 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 est person cannot resist a feeling of nervousness in 
 passing over this portion of the road for the first time. 
 Massive as it is, the structure seems too Hght for its pur- 
 poses ; but it stands firm and unshaken, and trains rattle 
 over it daily with scarcely a jar. 
 
 The stations along the route are of iron, and are 
 painted a light and dainty green. They are fitted up 
 in elegant style, and are provided with every conveni- 
 ence for passengers and the employees of the road. 
 They were designed by the celebrated landscape 
 artist, J. F. Cropsey, and are tasteful cottages, provided 
 with ticket offices, waiting rooms for gentlemen and 
 ladies, and toilet conveniences for each. They are 
 lighted with gas, as are also the platforms, and in winter 
 are heated. The platforms extend beyond the station 
 houses at each end, and are covered with a light and 
 graceful iron pavilion roof. - The stations are reached 
 from the street by light iron stairways enclosed at the 
 side and roofed over. The up stations are on the east 
 side of the streets, and the down stations on the west 
 side. Passengers purchase their tickets at the ofiice on 
 entering the station, and drop them in a patent box in 
 charge of an attendant upon passing out on the plat- 
 form. 
 
 The equipment of the road is excellent. The cars 
 are built after the style of the Pullman palace cars. 
 The seats have spring cushions, and are placed two by 
 two in the centre of the car at each side of the passage- 
 way; at the ends they are ranged longitudinally around 
 the car, thus affording ample space near the doors for 
 the ingress and egress of passengers. The windows 
 are unusually large, are of plate glass, and are provided 
 
EQUIPMENT OF THE METROPOLITAN LINE. 183 
 
 with adjustable rep blinds. The cars are painted a 
 delicate shade of green, and are among the handsomest 
 to be found on any road in the Union. The platforms 
 are enclosed with iron balustrades, with gates at the 
 sides. The locomotives used are small and of a pecu- 
 liar construction. They make an average speed of 
 twelve miles an hour, including stoppages. All trains 
 are provided with air-brakes, and can be stopped in a 
 little more than their own length. The road is operated 
 by means of electric signals, and every precaution for 
 safety is taken. 
 
 The conductors and brakemen are handsomely 
 uniformed, as are also the attendants at the stations. 
 They are dressed in blue flannel or cloth, with orna- 
 mental braidings on the shoulders, brass buttons on the 
 coat and vest, and cap encircled with two gold cords 
 and marked with silver letters in front above the peak, 
 with the title, ''conductor," "brakeman," etc. They 
 have an air of extreme importance, and hustle passen- 
 gers on and off the trains with a haste that amounts to 
 recklessness, and which has, in more than one instance, 
 led to serious accidents. It is said that many of the 
 employees of this company were appointed for political 
 reasons, and have had but little experience as railroad 
 men. 
 
 The Second avenue line is owned by the Metropoli- 
 tan Company, and is built in a manner similar to the 
 Sixth avenue road. Its trains start from the South 
 Ferry, and run through Pearl and Fulton streets and 
 Franklin Square to Chatham Square, the junction of 
 the Third avenue line ; thence through Division street 
 to First avenue, along that avenue to 23d street. 
 
184 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 through 23d street west to Second avenue, and along 
 that street to the Harlem river. It is proposed to 
 bridge the river at this point and extend the road into 
 Westchester county. Passengers by this line are 
 transferred to the Third avenue line at Chatham Square 
 without extra charge. In its equipment and manage- 
 ment it is similar to the Sixth avenue line. 
 
 The Ninth Avenue Line is owned by the New York 
 Elevated Railroad Company. It is built on columns 
 of iron set in concrete and masonry along the outer 
 edge of the sidewalk on each side of the streets it 
 traverses. These columns are connected by stout iron 
 girders, and the structure, although so light in appear- 
 ance,- is as soHd and firm as could be desired. It begins 
 at the South Ferry, and runs across the Battery Park 
 to Greenwich street, along which it continues to 14th 
 street, where it enters Ninth avenue, and follows the 
 line of that street to 59th street, where it joins the 
 extension of the Metropolitan Road. Passengers going 
 above 59th street are transferred to the Metropolitan 
 cars without extra charge. The road runs, as has been 
 said, along the sidewalks on each side of the street, the 
 middle of the street being thus unobstructe-d. The 
 cars of this line are painted a handsome brown color, 
 very much like those of the Pennsylvania Road, and 
 though neatly upholstered and decorated are not as 
 ornamental as those of the Sixth avenue line. 
 
 The Third avenue line is also owned by the New 
 York Elevated Railroad Company. It commences at 
 the City Hall, immediately opposite to the stone cause- 
 way of the Brooklyn Bridge, and runs direct to Chat- 
 ham Square, and thence by the Bowery and Third 
 
THE THIRD AVENUE LINE. 
 
 185 
 
 avenue to the Harlem River at 129th street. At 4.26. 
 street a branch diverges westward to the Grand Cen- 
 tral Depot. It is built on rows of pillars, like the Ninth 
 avenue road, and varies according to the character of 
 the street in which it is located. The Bowery being 
 wide the tracks are carried on separate pillars on each 
 side of the street; while on Third avenue they are 
 erected upon lines of columns at each side of the street 
 car tracks, and connected at the top by light, open 
 elliptic arch girders. 
 
 The cars on this line resemble those of the Ninth 
 avenue road. The officials are uniformed like those 
 of the Sixth avenue line, and are, as a rule, more effi- 
 cient men. The New York Elevated made it its busi- 
 ness at the outset to secure men who were thoroughly 
 accustomed to railroading, and who knew their duties. 
 The stations on the Ninth and Third Avenue lines are 
 alike in design. They are smaller than those of the 
 Sixth Avenue line, but are very handsome, are con- 
 structed of ornamental iron, and are reached from the 
 street by stairways. 
 
 From five o'clock until seven in the morning, and 
 during the same hours of the evening, the fare on all 
 the lines is five cents; at all other times it is ten cents. 
 
 There is no pleasanter way of seeing New York 
 than from the elevated railways. The following trip, 
 which may be made within three hours, will show the 
 visitor more of the great city than can be seen in two 
 days by any other means: Take the Third avenue 
 line at the City Hall and ride to 130th street — the Har- 
 lem river. It is but a step from the station to the land- 
 ing of the East river steamers. Embark on one of 
 
186 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 these and ride to the end of the route, at Peck Slip, 
 near the Fulton Ferry, on the East river. The sail 
 down the river is superb. A short walk along South 
 street, from Peck Slip, brings the traveler to the ter- 
 minus of the West Side Elevated Road at the South 
 Ferry. Take the Ninth avenue line here and ride to 
 155th street. Return by the Sixth avenue line, and 
 ride to the terminus at Rector street. This leaves out 
 the Second avenue line, but the Third avenue road 
 commands very much the same view, and nothing of 
 importance is lost. 
 
 The elevated roads have been of the greatest ser- 
 vice to New York, in spite of the complaints that they 
 have injured property along their lines. The question of 
 damage is still an open one, but there can be no doubt 
 that the problem of rapid transit has been effectually 
 and quickly solved. Travelers are independent now 
 of the weather. The trains run on time and with ease 
 in the heaviest snow storms, blockades are impossible, 
 and time is saved and comfort secured to the passen- 
 ger. In good weather and with a clear track the horse- 
 cars took from three-quarters of an hour to fifty min- 
 utes from 59th street to the City Hall. The elevated 
 trains make the same distance now in twenty-eight 
 minutes, including stoppages. The Metropolitan Road 
 runs over 1000 trains a day, and the New York Ele- 
 vated about 900, making between 1900 and 2000 in all. 
 An average train on either road in the busy hours will 
 carry 350 passengers on the round trip. 
 
 Great complaints were made, at first of the noise ^ 
 made by the trains passing over the roads, but these 
 are not so numerous now as formerly. The peculiar 
 
OVERCROWDING OF TRAINS. 187 
 
 construction of the New York Elevated Company's 
 lines renders them less noisy than those of the Metro- 
 politan Company. The posts of the latter roads are 
 hollow tubes of boiler-iron, and each possesses the re- 
 sonant qualities of a drum. On the New York Com- 
 pany's roads the posts are open ones, two sides of each 
 being made of stout lattice-work, and give forth less 
 sound. 
 
 During the five-cent hours the trains on all the lines 
 are crowded, the seats, aisles, and even the platforms 
 being filled to their fullest capacity. " The station plat- 
 forms are black with a struggling crowd, each indivi- 
 dual of which is striving with all his powers to be the 
 first on the train when it arrives. At such times the 
 jam is dangerous. The seats are usually occupied be- 
 fore the train leaves the end of the line, and the throngs 
 who wait at the way stations rush on board only to find 
 standing room, and sometimes hardly that. Passengers 
 leaving the trains at such stations have literally to fight 
 their way out of the cars, and the stop is so brief that they 
 are often carried one or two stations beyond their desti- 
 nation before they can reach the platform of the car. The 
 conductors crowd as many into a car as can be packed 
 into it during these hours, and the air soon becomes foul, 
 and the danger of contracting contagious or infectious 
 diseases, from being jammed in too closely with all sorts 
 of people, is very great. Trains often start while pas- 
 sengers are in the act of getting on board, and men are 
 frequently dragged some distance before they can be 
 rescued from their perilous positions. The dense 
 throngs on the narrow platforms of the stations afford 
 Si rich harvest for pickpockets, and a free field for bul- 
 
188 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 lies and ruffians, When the platforms are so heavily 
 crowded there is actual danger of being pushed over into 
 the street, or under the wheels of the approaching trains. 
 The over-crowded trains which run so frequently dur- 
 ing the five-cent, or "commission " hours, are exceed- 
 ingly liable to accident. Engines not infrequently be- 
 come disabled, causing the train to stop, and at such 
 times there is danger of one of the rear trains crashing 
 into the disabled one. Should the breaks of the rear 
 train give way such a disaster would be inevitable. 
 Several accidents have occurred, and serious collisions 
 have taken place. It is urged that a reduction of the 
 fare to five cents at all hours would remedy the trouble, 
 and that such crowds would not collect for the early 
 and late trains if the fare were the same at all hours. 
 
 Such are some of the drawbacks to the system; but 
 tt cannot be denied that these roads are, on the whole, 
 a great gain for the city. The upper sections of the 
 Island being brought within rapid and easy reach of the 
 business quarters are attracting large numbers of 
 kihabitants, and property is rapidly appreciating in 
 value above and along the Central Park. Many per- 
 sons who were forced to live in Brooklyn or some other 
 suburb, are returning to the city, and taking houses in 
 Harlem and the neighboring localities, and it is confi- 
 dently expected that a few years will see a vast change 
 for the better in this section of the city — thanks to the 
 facilities offered by the Elevated Roads. In the first 
 place the city will push its grand streets and its rows 
 of substantial dwellings rapidly northward until the 
 Park is surrounded with a tolerably dense population. 
 In a few years the fine country seats on the west side, 
 
INFLUENCE OF ELEVATED ROADS. 189 
 
 as far up as Washington Heights, will have to give 
 place to solid blocks of brick and brownstone, because 
 the land will become too valuable to be used for lawns 
 and gardens, and by the end of the century those who 
 are now living may expect to see the whole of the 
 upper part of Manhattan Island as closely built over 
 as are now the districts immediately below the Park. 
 Of course this rapid increase will not proceed from the 
 ordinary process of a city's growth. Thousands of 
 people who have taken refuge in the suburban towns 
 to secure cheap rents and to avoid the miseries of street 
 car travel, will return to New York. It will be a great 
 deal more comfortable to step into a train a few block** 
 from the City Hall and be whirled in half an hour up 
 to looth street, than to w^alk to a ferry, wait five or 
 ten minutes for a boat, submit to the jostling crowds, 
 and occasionally miss a train on the other side of the. 
 river. Added to the inducements to draw people from 
 the suburbs back to the city will be the facility foK'. 
 attending evening amusements, for hearing good Sun 
 day sermons, and for getting easy access to the man)^ 
 attractions that the denizen of the Metropolis can 
 enjoy, if he will, in his leisure hours. Already thti* 
 Elevated Roads are beginning to affect the tenemenr, 
 houses, and many of the dwellers in these vast rooker- 
 ies have moved up to Harlem and its vicinity, where 
 they can obtain entire houses for a little more than the 
 price paid for a few rooms in their former habitations. 
 
 To the stranger the Elevated Roads offer a pleasure 
 not to be experienced in any other city. You mount 
 the stairway to the station, purchase your ticket^ 
 deposit it in the box at the gate, and take your place 
 
190 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 on the platform to await the arrival of the train. Here 
 it comes, puffing and snorting, and draws up to the 
 station as leisurely and quietly as if there was no hurry 
 about the performance. You step on board, and find 
 yourself in a handsome, airy, and comfortable car. 
 Then follows a ride which will be always remembered. 
 You whirl along the streets on a level with the sec- 
 ond stories of the houses, and looking down can enjoy 
 all the sights in the roadway and on the sidewalk 
 below. Underneath you the horse cars pass and repass, 
 and you hear the pleasant jingle of bells. The grand 
 panorama of the streets traversed spreads out before 
 you ; distant views of the rivers and their shipping are 
 caught, and at last you reach your destination, feeling 
 that you have had an experience to be remembered. 
 You have enjoyed New York's latest wonder; you 
 have made a trip on the Elevated Railroad. 
 
 The Third avenue line runs its trains all night. 
 They start from each end of the road every fifteen 
 minutes, from midnight to a quarter of five in the morn- 
 ing. These are "the Owl Trains," and carry home the 
 late workers in the great newspaper ofifices, belated 
 travelers, and the "b'hoys" who have been making a 
 night of it. Let us take the trip on one of these trains 
 in company with a reporter of the New York Herald, 
 starting from the South Ferry an hour after midnight. 
 
 "Puff! Puff! On we go, slowly at first, over the tangle 
 of switches, and then as the gleaming track stretches 
 out before, we gain headway, and go rushing into the 
 shadow of the silent tenements and the deserted work 
 shops of down town. A couple of passengers join us 
 at Fulton street, three more at Hanover Square, and 
 
A RIDE ON THE ELEVATED ROAD 
 
 191 
 
 then we sweep along toward the east side thorough- 
 fare, where the flare of Hght before us shows that the 
 denizens are still astir. We are rattling past the odd 
 clusters of houses that swarm down to the river's edge 
 — oddly enough they look in the darkness — these 
 human hives crowded together in so many uncouth 
 shapes, with a stray light struggling through the panes, 
 and the lines of the narrow streets broken and almost 
 lost among them. On past this region of dark abodes, 
 from which even now the sound of a street broil reaches 
 us, and then there is a rattle of switches as we sweep 
 about the curve into the light and find ourselves 
 at Chatham Square. A group of passengers come 
 aboard here, and there is a show of activity in the sta- 
 tion. Doubtless there is a certain animation imparted 
 to it by the sounds of life, loud enough and sufficiently 
 varied for the broadest kind of day, that float up to it 
 without ceasing from the Bowery beneath. There is 
 nothing in this glare of light, nothing in this swarming 
 pavement, to indicate that midnight has passed. The 
 windows gleam, the saloons are all aglare, a half-score 
 pianos and violins send as many airs floating into the 
 night to blend into an instrumental discord that attunes 
 itself fidy to the roysterer s song, the brawler's oath and 
 the hundred strange voices of the night. We go on 
 now over all these, with the rattle of the wheels drown- 
 ing the noise, and only the darkened and apparently 
 deserted stories of the houses on a level with our eyes. 
 It seems as though we were driving over a troubled 
 sea, but in an atmosphere becalmed. 
 
 "Grand street and then Houston are reached. We 
 receive few accessions at either. 
 
192 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 *'The vehicle that will reduce the lateness of arrival 
 by some minutes, and depreciate by a corresponding 
 percentage the rancor of the waiting wife or the observ- 
 ant mother-in-law, is a boon sure to be appreciated. 
 This sentiment received free expression at the hands 
 of a professor-like body in the car, who, alone of all 
 the passengers, opened communication with his fellow 
 men, and who himself seemed a trifle anxious to 
 bring- his latch key into speedy communication with the 
 front door. 
 
 "In fact, most of the passengers seemed very impas- 
 sive and preoccupied. Several of them were conspic- 
 uously so, and the trip up town was quite uneventful 
 until the advent of the ubiquitous small boy. He was 
 a good specimen of the class — spry, saucy and mis- 
 chievous. He was projected into our midst from the 
 Houston street station, at which he flung a parting 
 comment on some one's freshness. For a time he edified 
 us by performing a sort of double-shuffle in one end 
 of the car, and then fell into conversation with the pro- 
 fessor-like person, to whom he confided that he was a 
 mechanic in a feather foundry," together with much 
 other valuable and equally reliable information. A few 
 popular airs, rather discordantly whistled, and an ar^tive 
 passage at words with the brakeman, made up the sum 
 of the small boy's entertainment, when, in a charitable 
 effort to close the gate on the conductor's fingers, he 
 retired at 68th street. 
 
 "We were now well up town, and running between 
 the rows of flats and tenements on either side the street 
 Here all was repose. Closed shutters, draped windows, 
 
 4 
 
VIEWS FROM THE "OWL TRAINS." 193 
 
 darkened rooms — everywhere a recognition of the 
 hours of slumber. Only the street lamps beneath, and 
 only a semi-occasional by-passer. Here the din of 
 the cars seems louder than before, and strangely at 
 variance with the dead silence of the slumbering home- 
 steads. The pace of the engine seems quickest now, 
 and as we leave 86th street a sudden belt of darkness 
 is thrown upon the windows. We have passed from 
 the tenanted portions of the avenue and are flying 
 across the Harlem flats. How dim, how gloomy they 
 lie in this moonless night. A medley here of roofs and 
 gables ; there the flash of a whitewashed wall all down in 
 the hollow, with only a fitful glimmer in some window- 
 pane. Even the street lamps gleaming by the way look 
 dim, and the twinkle of the lights of Astoria, away across 
 the water, are distant and uncertain. Suddenly a great 
 yellow eye opens down towards the river and glows 
 like a full moon in the darkness. It is the clock on the 
 Second avenue railroad depot, which we are whirling 
 past. Only that sign of life in all the dark landscape, 
 from the line of the river to the sky on the other side, 
 where the hills and trees of Central Park stretch like 
 an undulating belt. Yet we are going over scores of 
 little homesteads instinct with life. And at such a pace ! 
 The train seems to fairly spin along. One thinks, go- 
 ing through the air at this rate, of the phantom hunts- 
 man of the Hartz tearing over the hamlets and forest 
 lands, and the witches of old whirling across the sky 
 astride their broomsticks. But when one comes back 
 to the prosaic, cosy seats of the elevated road, he feels 
 that he has a much more substantial and comfortable 
 
 13 
 
194 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 conveyance than the phantom steed, and one which has 
 many points of superiority over the witches' favorite 
 vehicle. 
 
 " I o6th street ! We are going into Harlem. We 
 have dropped all our passengers but two. Naturally, 
 in these high local latitudes we take on no more. We 
 keep the pace for a time from station to station, then 
 'down brakes' is whistled, we slow up and come roll- 
 ing up to the end of the route in dignified fashion. 
 There are a good many people at the station as we 
 reach it, and while the engine waits others arrive. 
 About double as many passengers board the train to 
 go down as came up." 
 
NEW YORK SOCIETY. 
 
 195 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 fHE VARIOUS CLASSES OP SOCIETY— THE BEST OF ALL— THE "OLD KNICKERBOCKERS'*— A HEAVT 
 
 * SET OF SWELLS— RICHES AND CULTURE COMBINED — THE NEWLY RICH — THE CONTROLLING 
 BLEMENT— HOW SHODDY GETS INTO SOCIETY — THE POWER OF MONEY— FASHIONABLE SJNO»» 
 BERY — FROM THE TENEMENT HOUSE TO THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSION — MANIA FOR COATS 
 
 OF ARMS— HOW BOSS TWEED WAS VICTIMIZED SUDDEN APPEARANCES AND DISAPPEARt 
 
 ANCES IN SOCIETY — " RICHES HAVE WINGS "—A FAILURE AND A TRIUMPH— WH\T IT COSTS — 
 MONEY THE ONE THING NEEDFUL — EXTRAVAGANCE OF NEW YORK SOCIETY — LOVE OF DRESS 
 — A FASHIONABLE LADY'S WARDROBE — FOLLIES OF THE MEN — PASSION FOR THE LEG BUSI- 
 NESS — FASHIONABLE ENTERTAINMENTS — THE END OF EXTRAVAGANT CAREERS — THE SKELE- 
 TONS SOMETIMES COME OUT OF THEIR CLOSETS — FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES — HOW 
 THEV ARE GIVEN — INVITATIONS — BALL ROOM SCENES — THE SUPPERS — A SWELL CONVERSATION 
 —FASHIONABLE THIEVES — AN ARISTOCRATIC SNEAK THIEF — HOW A BROKER KEPT HIS PLACB 
 IN SOCIETY— A detective's EXPERIENCE IN FASHIONABLE LIFE — THE PRETTY WIDOW AND 
 THE LACES — FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS — WEDDINGS IN HIGH LIFE — ARRANGED ON A PECU- 
 NIARY BASIS — MONEY THE ATTRACTION — HOW HEARTS ARE BOUGHT AND SOLD — THE WED- 
 DING FESTIVITIES — GUARDING THE BRIDAL PRESENTS — WHAT IT ALL COSTS — FASHIONABLB 
 DEATH — ONLY THE RICH CAN AFFORD TO DIE IN NEW YORK— COST OF A FASHIONABLB 
 FUNERAL— INTERESTING DETAILS. 
 
 I. 
 
 CONSTITUENT PARTS. 
 
 Society in New York is made up of many parts, a 
 few of which we propose to examine. 
 
 The first class is unfortunately the smallest, and con- 
 sists of those who set culture and personal refinement 
 above riches. It is made up of professional men and 
 their families — lawyers, clergymen, artists, authors, 
 physicians, scientific men, and others of kindred pur- 
 suits and tastes. Compared with the other classes, it 
 is not wealthy, though many of its members manage 
 to attain competency and ease. Their homes are taste- 
 ful, and often elegant, and the household graces are 
 cultivated in preference to display. The tone of this 
 
196 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 class is pure, healthful and vigorous, and personal 
 merit is the surest passport to it. It furnishes the best 
 specimens of manhood and womanhood to be met with 
 in the metropolis, and its home-Hfe is simple and at- 
 tractive. In short, it may be said to be the saving 
 element of the society of the metropolis, and fortunately 
 it is a growing element, drawing to it every year new 
 members, not only from the city itself, but from all 
 parts of the country. It is this class which gives tone 
 to the moral and religious life of the city, which supports 
 the lectures, concerts, oratorios and scientific entertain- 
 ments which form so pleasant a feature of city Hfe, and 
 it is seen in force at Wallack's and other leading thea- 
 tres on the first night of some new play. Its members 
 are generally sufficiently well-off in this world's goods 
 to render them independent of the forms to which 
 others are slaves. Travel and observation, added to 
 natural abilities, enable them to estimate persons and 
 things at their true value, and they maintain their posi- 
 tions without caring to imitate or enter into competition 
 with their wealthier neighbors. They are always ready 
 to recognize and lend a helping hand to struggling 
 merit, but sternly discountenance vulgarity and impos- 
 ture. They furnish the men and women who do the 
 best work and accomplish the greatest results in social 
 and business life, and their names are honored through- 
 out the city. 
 
 The next class is composed of the descendants of the 
 original Dutch settlers of New York, and style 
 themselves "the Old Knickerbockers." They are 
 clannish, and cling together, looking down with a 
 lofty contempt upon all who cannot show a Dutch 
 
OLD KNICKERBOCKERS. 
 
 197 
 
 ancestor, or produce a long line of family por- 
 traits as proof of their descent. Many of these people 
 are highly educated, refined, and would be a credit to 
 any society, were it not for their ridiculous affectation of 
 superiority to their neighbors. This affectation of 
 superiority often exposes them to unmerciful ridicule, 
 but they bear it with true Dutch phlegm. Each one 
 has his coat of arms, and all seem to rely more upon 
 their descent from the hard-headed old Dutchmen of 
 New Amsterdam than upon their own merits. You 
 could not insult them more deeply than to intimate that 
 the venerable mynheer from whom they boast descent 
 was, in the palmy days of New Amsterdam, a butcher, 
 a fish vender, or a tanner down in the swamp, and 
 knew little of and cared less for stately escutcheons and 
 armorial bearings. Many of the members of this class 
 are large real estate owners, their property being 
 among the most valuable in the city. The little farm 
 of the Dutch ancestor is now a succession of valuable 
 building lots, and instead of bearing cabbages and 
 onions is covered with stately edifices, and has enriched 
 the descendants far beyond the "ancestor's" wildest 
 dreams. They are a heavy and solemn class, these 
 "Old Knickerbockers," even the very young ones. 
 They are not overburdened with brains, as a rule, and 
 try to atone for this deficiency by assuming the most 
 pompous and heavy bearing. Many, perhaps a 
 majority, of this class are undoubtedly what they claim 
 to be as regards descent, but it must be confessed that 
 there are those among them whose names are not to be 
 found in the lists of the people of New Amsterdam. 
 No matter, they have wealth, they affect the Dutch 
 
198 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Style, have a "Van " to their names, and somehow have 
 a line of old, yellow "family portraits" to show, and if 
 pressed for their pedigree, is there not a "college ot 
 heraldry" in the city to make one for them? 
 
 The third class consists of those who have inherited 
 large wealth from one or more generations of ances- 
 tors, but who make no claim to aristocratic descent. 
 They are generally people of culture, with nothing of 
 shoddyism or snobbery about them. They have traveled 
 extensively, and are free from the narrow provincial 
 ideas that characterize so many of the New York "Upper 
 Ten." Their houses are filled with valuable works of 
 art and mementoes of foreign travel. Having an 
 abundance of leisure, they are free to cultivate the 
 graces of life, and they constitute one of the pleasant- 
 est portions of the society of the city. The class is not 
 large, but it is constantly receiving new members in the 
 children of men who have made their way in the world, 
 and have learned to value money at its true worth. 
 They make good citizens, with the exception of an easy 
 going indifference to political affairs, are proud of their 
 city and country, and do not ape the airs or customs of 
 foreign lands. 
 
 The fourth and largest class, that which may be said 
 to give New York fashionable society its peculiar tone» 
 consists of the "Newly Rich." These are so numer- 
 ous, and make themselves so conspicuous, that they are 
 naturally regarded as the representative class of New 
 York society. They may be known by their coarse 
 appearances, and still coarser manners, their loud style, 
 and ostentatious display of wealth. Money with them 
 is everything, and they judge men, not by their merits, 
 
FIFTH AVENUE TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 199 
 
 but by their bank accounts. They are strangers to the 
 refinements and "small, sweet courtesies" of life, and for 
 them substitute a hauteur and a dash that lay them 
 open to unmerciful ridicule. Without education or pol- 
 ish, they look down upon those who are less fortunate 
 than themselves, and fawn with cringing servility upon 
 the more aristocratic portion of society. To be invited 
 to an entertainment of some family of solid repute in 
 the fashionable world, to be on visiting terms with those 
 whose wealth and culture rank them as the true aris- 
 tocracy, is the height of their ambition. This they 
 generally accomplish, for money is a passport to all 
 classes of New York society. The better elements 
 may laugh at the " Newly Rich," but they invite them 
 to their houses, entertain them, are entertained in re- 
 turn, and so do their share in keeping "Shoddy" firm 
 in its position in the avenue. The "Newly Rich" 
 know the power of their money, and they use it ac- 
 cordingly. The wealthy Mr. McGinnis, uncouth as he 
 is, unrefined as his family are, can give handsomer and 
 more costly entertainments, and in mere matters of 
 richness and display, can far outshine the aristocratic 
 Mr. Van Bomp, whose ancestors run back to the days 
 of the Half Moon and New Amsterdam. So Mr. Van 
 Bomp, meeting McGinnis in society, learns to put up 
 with his rough ways, though he may laugh at them in 
 private, exchanges hospitalities with him, and in many 
 ways helps the new rich man up the social ladder, and 
 the dream of McGinnis' life is realized. 
 
 The " Newly Rich" look down with supreme con- 
 tempt, upon the institutions which have enabled them 
 to rise so high in the social scale. It is from them one 
 
200 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 hears so many complaints of the degeneracy of society, 
 and it is they whose frowns chill the ambitious hopes 
 of rising merit. Lacking personal dignity themselves, 
 they ridicule it in others. They are ashamed of their 
 origin, and it is a mortal offence to one of these new- 
 fledged fashionables to remind him that you knew him 
 a few years back as a hard-working mechanic or shop- 
 keeper. His better-half may have been a dressmaker, 
 a shop-girl, or have risen from some humbler position 
 in life ; but that is all forgotten now, and it would be 
 not only bad taste, but a mortal offence, to refer to it. 
 Some strange changes of names are brought about by 
 a translation to the upper circles. Plain John Smith 
 becomes John Smythe, and perhaps, Smyythe. Sam 
 Long, who began life by driving a dray, is now Mr. 
 Samuel Longue ; Mc'Ginnis becomes MacGufennesse. 
 A coat of arms suddenly makes its appearance, for the 
 establishment in the city which deals in such matters is 
 equal to any emergency, and oftentimes a pedigree is 
 manufactured in the same way. As for family por- 
 traits, " Sypher's," or any of the old curiosity or bric- 
 a-brac stores, can provide any number of these. Some 
 years ago, when the late Boss Tweed was at the height 
 of his power, he thought his new dignity required a 
 coat of arms, which was duly engraved upon his silver 
 and emblazoned on the panels of his equipages. It 
 was a superb design, and tickled the Boss immensely; 
 but his joy was cut short when he found that the 
 Herald's College " had bestowed upon him the ar- 
 morial bearings of the Marquis of Tweedale, one of 
 England's proudest peers. Of course there was a 
 broad laugh throughout the city at the honorable Wil- 
 liam*s expense. 
 
SUDDEN CHANGES IN SOCIETY. 
 
 201 
 
 Some of the fashionables appear very suddenly in 
 society. For the better part of their lives they have 
 lived very modestly, perhaps in a tenement house. A 
 series of fortunate speculations in Wall street, or in 
 other branches of commerce places the husband 
 speedily in possession of great wealth. The family is 
 ambitious, and it has now the one thing necessary to 
 enable it to shine in New York society. A mansion in 
 Fifth or Madison avenue, or one of the aristocratic cross 
 streets intersecting those thoroughfares, is secured; the 
 newly acquired wealth is liberally expended in fitting up 
 the new home ; and then the fortunate owners of it sud- 
 denly burst upon society as stars of the first magnitude. 
 They are ill adapted to their new position it is true, rude 
 and unrefined, but they have wealth and are willing to 
 spend it, and money is supposed to carry with it all the 
 virtues and graces of fashionable life. This is all 
 society requires, and it receives them with open arms, 
 flatters and courts them, and exalts them to the seventh 
 heaven of fashionable bliss. 
 
 Lucky are they who can manage to retain the posi- 
 tions thus acquired. It too often happens that this 
 suddenly gotten wealth goes as rapidly as it came. 
 Then the stars begin to pale, and finally the family 
 drops out of the fashionable world. It is not missed, 
 however; new stars take their places, perhaps to share 
 the same fate. Thus this class of society is not perma- 
 nent as regards its members. It is constantly chang- 
 ing. People come and go, and the leaders of one 
 season may be conspicuous the next only by their 
 absence. 
 
 Sometimes even this class of society takes a notion 
 
202 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 to be exclusive, and then it is hard to enter the charmed 
 circle. Some years ago a gentleman, a man of brains 
 and sterling merit, who had risen slowly to fortune, 
 feeling himself in every way fitted for social distinction, 
 resolved to enter society, and to signalize his entree by 
 a grand entertainment. At that time he lived in a not 
 very fashionable street, but he did not regard this as a 
 drawback. He issued his invitations, and prepared his 
 entertainment upon a scale of unusual magnificence, 
 and at the appointed time his mansion was ablaze with 
 light, and ready for the guests. Great was his morti- 
 fication. Not one of those invited set foot within his 
 doors. In his anger he swore a mighty oath that he 
 would yet compel New York society to humble itself 
 to him. He kept his word, became one of the wealthiest 
 men in the city, indeed, one of the merchant princes of 
 the land, and in the course of a few years society, which 
 had scorned his first invitations, was begging for admis- 
 sion to his sumptuous fetes. He became a leader of 
 society, and his mandates were humbly obeyed by those 
 who had once presumed to look down upon him. It 
 was a characteristic triumph; his millions did the work. 
 
 II. 
 
 WHAT IT COSTS. 
 
 Poverty is always a misfortune. New York brands 
 it as a crime. Consequently no poor man, or even one 
 of moderate means, can hold a place in New York 
 society. Indeed, it would be simply impossible for any 
 one not possessed of great wealth to maintain a posi- 
 tion there, as to do this requires an almost fabulous 
 outlay of money. As money opens the doors of the 
 charmed circle, so money must keep one within it 
 
FASHIONABLE EXTRAVAGANCE. 
 
 203 
 
 Thus sooiety in New York has become the most 
 extravagant in the world. Nowhere on the globe are 
 such immense sums spent. Extravagance is the beset- 
 ting sin of Metropolitan social life. Immense sums are 
 expended annually in furnishing the aristocratic man- 
 sions, in dress, in entertainments, and in all sorts of 
 folly and dissipation. It is no uncommon thing for a 
 house and its contents to be heavily mortgaged to pro- 
 vide the means of keeping its occupants in proper 
 style. The pawnbrokers drive a thriving trade with 
 the ladies of position, who pledge jewels, costly dresses, 
 and other articles of feminine luxury, to raise the money 
 needed for some "high-toned" folly. Each member 
 of society strives to outshine or outdress his or her 
 acquaintances, and to do so requires a continual strug- 
 gle, and a continual drain upon the bank account. Men 
 have been led to madness and suicide, and women to 
 sin and shame, by this constant race for social distinc- 
 tion ; but the mad round of extravagance and folly goes 
 on, the new comers failing to profit by the experience 
 of those who have gone before them. 
 
 The love of dress is a characteristic of the New York 
 woman of fashion. To be the best dressed woman at 
 a ball, the opera, a dinner, or on the street, is the height 
 of her ambition. To outshine all other women in the 
 splendor of her attire or her jewels, is to render her 
 s-upremely happy. Dresses are ordered without regard 
 to cost, and other articles of luxury are purchased in 
 proportion. Nowhere in the world are seen such 
 splendidly dressed, such gorgeously bejeweled women 
 as in New York. A recent writer, touching upon this 
 topic says: — 
 
^04 NEW YORK. 
 
 "It is impossible to estimate the number of dresses a 
 fashionable woman will have. Most women in society- 
 can afford to dress as it pleases them, since they have 
 unlimited amounts of money at their disposal. Among 
 females, dress is the principal part of society. What 
 would Madame Mountain be without her laces or dia- 
 monds, or Madame Blanche without her silks or satins ? 
 Simply common-place, old women, past their prime, 
 destined to be wall-flowers. A fashionable woman has 
 just as many new dresses as the different times she 
 goes into society. The elite do not wear the same 
 dresses twice. If you can tell us how many receptions 
 she has in a year, how many weddings she attends, 
 how many balls she participates in, how many dinners 
 she gives, how many parties she goes to, how many 
 operas and theatres she patronizes, we can approxi- 
 mate somewhat to the size and cost of her wardrobe. 
 It is not unreasonable to suppose that she has two 
 new dresses of some sort for every day in the year, or 
 seven hundred and twenty. Now, to purchase all 
 these, to order them made, and to put them on after- 
 ward, consumes a vast amount of time. Indeed, the 
 woman of society does little but don and doff dry 
 goods. For a few brief hours she flutters the latest 
 tint and mode in the glare of the gaslight, and then re- 
 peats the same operation the next night. She must 
 have one or two velvet dresses, which cannot cost less 
 than $500 each ; she must possess thousands of dol- 
 lars' worth of laces, in the shape of flounces, to loop 
 up overskirts of dresses, as occasion shall require. 
 Walking dresses cost from ^50 to ^300 ; ball dresses 
 are frequently imported from Paris at a cost of from 
 
A FASHIONABLE LADY'S WARDROBE. 
 
 205 
 
 $SOO to $1000; while a wedding dress may cost from 
 5^1000 to $5000. Nice white Llama jackets can be had 
 for $60 ; rodes pHncesse, or overskirts of lace, are worth 
 from ^60 to ^200. Then there are traveling dresses 
 in black silk, in pongee, in velvet, in pique, which 
 range in price from ^75 to $175. Then there are 
 evening robes in Swiss muslin, robes in linen for the 
 garden and croquet playing, dresses for horse-races 
 and for yacht- races, robes de mat and robes de cha7nbre^ 
 dresses for breakfast and for dinner, dresses for recep- 
 tions and for parties, dresses for watering places, and 
 dresses for all possible occasions. A lady going to the 
 Springs takes from twenty to sixty dresses, and fills an 
 enormous number of Saratoga trunks. They are of 
 every possible fabric, from Hindoo muslin, ''gaze de 
 sole,' crape maretz, to the heavy silks of Lyons." 
 
 This is no exaggerated picture. The sales of silks 
 at Stewart's, alone, average about $15,000 daily, and 
 each of the other monster dry goods establishments 
 do a business in proportion. For the finer articles of 
 dress, gloves, laces, velvets, shawls and the like, thou- 
 sands are spent every day at these establishments ; 
 and the fashionable modistes, or dressmakers, have an 
 enormous custom and soon grow rich. Some years 
 ago a gentleman, whose residence had been consumed 
 by fire, submitted to a leading insurance company a 
 claim for $21,000 on his daughter's wardrobe alone. 
 The claim was disputed. It was carried into court, 
 where it was proved, item by item, and the company 
 was compelled to pay the money. 
 
 Nor are the men one whit behind the women in their 
 extravagance. They have their follies, their dissipa- 
 
206 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 tions, their clubs, their fast teams, and a hundred othei 
 ways of getting rid of money, and they manage to 
 spend it quite as lavishly as the ladies of their families. 
 Yachting, the races and cards absorb large sums, 
 and heavy amounts go to women whose charms are 
 for sale to the highest bidder. The men are coarser 
 than the women, and their pleasures and dissipations 
 are of a lower grade. They have not the tact which 
 ■e:nables the female members of their families to get 
 along in the fashionable world, and seek amusement 
 elsewhere. They are liberal patrons of the drama, 
 especially the ballet and "the leg business." Many do 
 Slot make any attempts to accompany their wives and 
 daughters to fashionable entertainments. They are 
 out of their element there, and prefer to seek pleasure 
 in their own way. 
 
 Entertainments are given in the most elaborate and 
 costly style, and thousands of dollars are paid out in a 
 single evening for this purpose. A fashionable party 
 will consume from fifteen hundred to two thousand 
 <lollars worth of champagne alone. It is no uncom- 
 jnon thing for an elaborate ball to cost from ten to fif- 
 t.een thousand dollars, or even more, or for a dinner 
 party to cost from five thousand dollars upward. There 
 are many things to be provided besides the entertain- 
 ment itself, and these all go to swell the bill. At some 
 of these entertainments costly presents of jewelry are 
 given to each guest, delicately enclosed in the folds of 
 rich bouquets. 
 
 Now this is well enough for those who can afford it; 
 but the majority of the New York fashionables cannot 
 stand the strain long. As we have said, their wealth. 
 
HONOR SOLD FOR MONEY. 207 
 
 great tnough it be, melts steadily under such demands 
 upon it, until there is nothing left, and bankruptcy and 
 ruin end the story. From time to time the business 
 community is starded by the failure, perhaps the sui- 
 cide, of some nominally well-to-do merchant or banker. 
 The affair causes a brief sensation and is soon forgot- 
 ten. The cause is well known. "Living beyond his 
 means," or "ruined by his family's extravagance," is 
 the stereotyped reason given. Men suffer the tortures 
 of the damned in their efforts to maintain their com- 
 mercial standing, and at the same time to provide their 
 families with the means of keeping their places in so- 
 ciety. They are driven to forgery, defalcation, and other 
 crimes, yet they do not achieve their object. Ruin 
 lays its hand upon them, and the game is played out. 
 
 As for Madame, she must have money. The hus- 
 band may not be able to furnish it, and there may be 
 a limit to even the pawnbroker's generosity ; but money 
 she must have. Fashionable life affords her the means. 
 She sells her honor for filthy lucre ; she finds a lover 
 with a free purse, and willing to pay for her favors. 
 She acts with her eyes open, and sins deliberately, and 
 from the basest of motives. She wants money and she 
 gets it. Sometimes the intrigue runs on without detec- 
 tion, and Madame shifts from lover to lover, according 
 to her needs. Again there is an unexpected discovery; 
 an explosion follows; Madame's fine reputation goes 
 to the winds ; and there is a gap in society. No 
 wonder so many fashionable women look jaded, have 
 an anxious, half-startled expression, and seem weary. 
 Tliey are living in a state of dread lest their secrets be 
 discovered and the inevitable ruin overtake them. 
 
208 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 III. 
 
 FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES. 
 
 The fashionable entertainments of New York are 
 noted for their magnificence and their great cost» 
 During the season, which comprises the late fall, the 
 winter, and the early spring, scarcely a night passes 
 that does not witness one or more balls or parties. 
 Sometimes these are inconveniently close to each other, 
 and the arriving and departing carriages are uncom- 
 fortably crowded in the street. Sometimes the host 
 and hostess prefer to give their entertainment at one 
 of the establishments — Delmonico's, or one of his 
 rivals — specially fitted up for that purpose. This saves 
 an immense amount of trouble at home, for the whole 
 affair is then placed in the hands of the fashionable 
 caterer, who provides everything, attends to all the 
 details, and the givers of the entertainment have only 
 to dress at home and repair to the appointed place in 
 time to receive their guests. The plan has its advan- 
 tages. Others, especially those who have large and ele- 
 gant mansions suited to such gatherings, prefer to give 
 their balls and parties at their own houses. Whichever 
 method be adopted, the entertainment is sure to be a 
 costly one. Anywhere from $5000 to ^20,000 must be 
 expended on a fashionable party. The details are gen- 
 erally left to the mistress of the house; the liege lord's 
 share in the affair is to do what he can towards making 
 the evening pleasant, and pay the bills without grumb- 
 
 Having decided to give a party, the hostess sum- 
 mons to her aid the sexton of the fashionable church 
 she attends, and gives him a list of the names of 
 
SCENES AT A FASHIONABLE PARTY. 209 
 
 the guests she wishes invited. He has carte bla^iche 
 to add to this the names of any desirable young men 
 he may think worthy of the honor, and of any distin- 
 guished strangers, foreigners especially, who may be 
 in the city at the time. The late lamented Brown, of 
 Grace Church, during his day enjoyed almost a mo- 
 nopoly of this business, and amassed quite a snug for- 
 tune therefrom. The fashionable sextons all keep lists 
 of the eligible young men in town, and are literally be- 
 sieged for invitations. Some of them turn a pretty 
 penny by "giving'* these only to the young men who 
 can afford to pay for them, even going so far as to re- 
 vise the list of the mistress of the house, when it is to 
 their interest to do so. 
 
 The invitations out, and the preparations for the ball 
 being made, the hostess turns her attention to her own 
 costume, and to those of the members of her family. 
 This requires much thought and many consultations 
 with the modiste. Society, on its part, is engaged in 
 similar preparations, and the dry goods stores and 
 dressmakers reap a harvest. 
 
 Upon the night of the entertainment a carpet is 
 spread from the doorway to the edge of the sidewalk, 
 and a temporary awning is erected over this. A po- 
 liceman is provided to keep off the crowd of lookers- 
 on which such an occasion invariably draws, and the 
 sexton in charge takes his place at the door to receive 
 the cards of invitation as the guests arrive. 
 
 Between nine and ten, handsome carriages, with ser- 
 vants in livery, drive up and deposit their inmates at 
 the awning, through which they pass into the house, 
 delivering their cards of invitation to the pompous 
 
 14 
 
210 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 sexton at the door. Thence they pass to the dressing- 
 room, to divest themselves of their wraps, after which 
 they descend to the drawing-room and pay their re- 
 spects to their host and hostess. When there is to be 
 dancing, a fine orchestra is provided, and if the Ger- 
 man is to be danced during the evening, the fact is 
 announced by placing a row of chairs around the room 
 and tying them in couples with pocket handkerchiefs. 
 But little dancing is engaged in during the earlier 
 hours of the evening, this time being generally taken 
 up by the arrivals of the guests, and in promenading. 
 By a little before midnight the parlors are filled with a 
 brilliant and richly-dressed throng ; conversation and 
 laughter rise confusedly on the heated air ; and the en- 
 livening strains of the musicians fill the place with en- 
 trancing melody. 
 
 At midnight the supper rooms are thrown open, and 
 the parlors are at once deserted for the tables. Fash- 
 ionable New York dearly loves these suppers, and 
 responds cordially to the invitations of those who have 
 the reputation of giving good ones. The service is ex- 
 cellent ; the waiters are either French or colored, are 
 attired as fauldessly as the gentlemen guests, and in 
 exact imitation of them, and are adepts at their busi- 
 ness. All one's wants are quickly and courteously 
 supplied, without confusion or delay. The table groans 
 with the choicest delicacies of the season, served in the 
 most tempting manner. Wine f^ows freely ; as many 
 as several hundred bottles often being consumed dur- 
 ing the evening. The ladies drink as heartily as their 
 partners, and one wonders how they can stand it so 
 well 
 
SMALL TALK. 
 
 211 
 
 Supper over, the ball-room soon fills up again and 
 the dancing begins in earnest. If the German is 
 danced, the better part of the small hours of the morn- 
 ing are devoted to it. As the dance is generally fa- 
 miliar to our readers, we shall attempt no description 
 of it ; but will merely remark that it seems to owe its 
 popularity to the fact that it permits liberties to be 
 taken with the fair sex which would not be tolerated 
 under other circumstances. 
 
 During the intervals of the dances conversation, 
 such as it is, goes on unflaggingly. The following is a 
 verbatim report of a part of a conversation between a 
 young lady of high position in society and an equally 
 "high-toned" young man. It is given as it was over- 
 heard : — 
 
 He. "Aw, Miss Jay, saw you 'joying the races 
 to-day." 
 
 She. "Yeth; they're awfully jawly, ain't they? 
 Right fun to bet, ain't it?" 
 
 He. "Ya-as, rawther jawly to bet when you win,, 
 you know ; but beastly, awfully beastly, to bet and lose, 
 you know." 
 
 She. " Did you lose ? Well, that wan't so offly jawly. 
 Lost myself, yest'day. Dare say you'll win 'gain to- 
 morrow, and then you'll think it jawly fun, you know." 
 
 He. "O! dare say shall; but caunt help feelin' 
 beastly 'bout losin' yest'day, you know. Do you like 
 boating ? Think its right fun, and offly jawly, you 
 know." 
 
 But we will not weary the reader. Towards daylight 
 the guests depart, worn out with fatigue, and some- 
 times a little hazy from the fumes of the champagne 
 
212 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 that has gotten into their heads, and the ball is oven 
 Night after night, during the season, the same perform- 
 ance is repeated at other houses. No wonder, then, 
 that society is so sorely in need of rest and change 
 when the summer comes and the watering places open 
 their doors; it is literally worn out. 
 
 Some strange things happen at these fashionable 
 gatherings. Often the host or hostess is startled by the 
 news of a robbery in the very midst of the festivities. 
 In most instances the articles taken are of value, such 
 as jewelry, and are such as can be easily secreted about 
 the person. The criminal, as a rule, is no vulgar thief, 
 but is one of society's privileged and envied members. 
 Two instances, taken from real life, will illustrate this. 
 The New York Tribune o{]\Ay i6th, 1877, contained the 
 following account of one of these fashionable thieves. 
 We give it in the words of that journal, not wishing to 
 be thought guilty of exaggeration : — 
 
 "The dingy back office of a New York, detective 
 was the scene of an impressive spectacle several weeks 
 ago. In the presence of the gentlemen — one a well- 
 known detective, the other a prominent merchant — 
 knelt a fashionably dressed man of middle age, confess- 
 ing a shameful story of crime, and imploring mercy. 
 
 "'I admit all,' he cried. 'I stole the property, but I 
 cannot restore it. I was driven to the deed in order 
 to maintain my position in society. My means had 
 largely left me, and I could not resist temptation.' — 
 
 "This statement fell like a thunderbolt upon the 
 merchant, who had known the speaker long and favor- 
 ably. To the detective, however, it was not at all unex- 
 pected, as he had already satisfied himself as to the guilt 
 
FASHIONABLE SNEAK THIEVES. 
 
 213 
 
 of the man. The stealing which was here confessed is 
 one of those crimes in the higher circles of society 
 which are generally kept hidden from the public. 
 
 "In the early part of last December the family of a 
 prominent lawyer living on Fifth avenue gave a social 
 entertainment, to which only persons of high standing 
 in society were invited. The following morning it was 
 discovered that rings, watches, and jewelry worth seve^ 
 ral hundred dollars, were missing. The most careful 
 search and close examination of servants forced the 
 conclusion upon the family that the robbery had been 
 committed by some one of the guests, although this 
 seemed incredible, as every name upon the list of those 
 present seemed to forbid the thought of suspicion. The 
 affair was put into the hands of private detectives, wTio 
 were unable, however, to obtain the slightest clew to 
 the thief or to the property. 
 
 ''A few days later a wealthy merchant entertained a 
 large number of friends, and the following day a wed- 
 ding ring and other jewelry, in value about $1000, but 
 prized far more on account of family associations, were 
 missing. Every nook and corner of the house was 
 searched, and detectives watched the servants, but mys- 
 tery continued to surround the matter. Meanwhile, 
 another merchant held a reception in his brownstone 
 house on a fashionable up-town street, and also suffered 
 a loss during the evening of jewelry, watches, and 
 other propert)^ valued at from $200 to $300. The 
 articles in this case were in a room where the gentle 
 men assembled, and the theft lay between some one of 
 them and an old servant, whom the master of the 
 house immediately exculpated, declaring that he did 
 
NEW YORK. 
 
 not suspect him in the least. The investigation of this 
 theft also was given to detectives, who visited the pawn- 
 brokers' shops of this and other cities, but none of the 
 property was discovered. An entertainment at the 
 residence of another well known citizen resulted in the 
 disappearance of more jewelry, and a mystery deeper 
 than any of those already in the hands of detectives. 
 
 " One of the detectives at work upon these cases, 
 becoming convinced that the thief in each case was one 
 and the same person, and moreover, that this person 
 was a member of the company at each party, began a 
 systematic course of action, which was finally crowned 
 with success. The names of the ladies and gentlemen 
 attending all four of the parties were obtained, and 
 were entered in his note-book. The list presented a 
 formidable array of judges, lawyers, editors, physicians, 
 brokers, and other professional and business men, and 
 their wives and daughters. Upon investigating the 
 reputations of these persons the detective was at a loss 
 to know whom to suspect, all of them having the full 
 confidence of their friends and the public. At length his 
 attention was attracted to a gentleman whose expen- 
 sive social habits and recent reverses in business made 
 the detective think that he was on the right track. 
 This man is a down-town broker, now a member of a 
 well-known firm. His name and family are well known 
 in this city, and he has long enjoyed a position in the 
 very best society. For years he has been a prominent 
 club and society man, always dressing in the height of 
 fashion, and rendering himself very agreeable to his 
 numerous acquaintances. He i^ an unmarried man, 
 and having a handsome personal appearance and at- 
 
HOW A BROKER BECAME A THIEF 215 
 
 tractive manners, he is popular with ladies. He is a 
 member of one of the leading regiments of New York, 
 and has sporting tastes. 
 
 " It^was discovered that the broker was in the rooms 
 in the houses in which the thefts were made, and in the 
 case of the $1000 robbery, he and one of the judges of 
 the Supreme Court were the only persons who were 
 seen in the apartment containing the property. With 
 this and other clews the detective, and the families by 
 which he was employed, became convinced that the 
 broker was the thief, and an anonymous letter was sent 
 to him, charging him with the stealing, and informing 
 him that unless restitution of the property was made 
 immediately, the circumstances would be given to thet 
 public, and he would be handed over to the police. 
 This letter had the desired effect, as the broker at onc(t 
 appointed a meeting with the detective, and, in the 
 presence of one of the merchants whose residence h(^ 
 had robbed while enjoying his hospitality, made a clean 
 breast of the entire matter. The broker, in telling hi:i 
 story, said that he had not been doing so well, finan- 
 cially, as in former years, and it was necessary for him 
 to get sums of money from some source in order to 
 meet his obligations and social expenses. The jewelr}r 
 he had sold for cash, and it was now impossible tc» 
 recover it." 
 
 The broker was arrested at the instigation of one of 
 the merchants whom he had robbed, but through the 
 influence of his relatives and friends he was released 
 on bail, and the matter was finally hushed up, the value 
 of the stolen property being paid. 
 
 The following incident was reported by the late 
 
216 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Samuel McKeever, for one of the city journals to which 
 
 he was attached : — 
 
 ''Investigation has shown me that no experienced 
 lady gives a party now without having among her black- 
 coated gentlemen guests a regular detective, whose 
 duty it is to look as if he were enjoying himself 
 intensely, and to watch all the others at the Same time. 
 
 "You can't blame the practice, although it does take 
 the bloom off of hospitality, and makes the amenities 
 of fashionable life a rather ghastly farce. If those you 
 invite to your house number among them men and 
 women with the instincts of footpads, it becomes the 
 duty of the entertainer to protect his or her property, 
 and the property of the guests, at all hazards. 
 
 "One of these detectives was introduced to me, and 
 I had quite a talk with him upon the subject. It is new 
 work for him, and he is mightily pleased with it. His 
 first capture was a woman, a handsome, accomplished 
 widow, who was invited as regularly to every swell 
 affair as they happened. 
 
 "This is how he caught her: 
 
 "*It was about the first of October,' he said 'that a 
 lady living on 6ist street issued cards for a very elegant 
 reception, on the occasion of her daughter's marriage. 
 She had been one of the sufferers from the fashionable 
 stealing we have been talking about, and she resolved 
 this time that she would set a trap for the mice. 
 
 " 'So she drove down to our office the day before — 
 I belong to a private firm of detectives — and asked 
 that some one be detailed at her residence for that 
 evening. 
 
 "*I was selected by the head of the firm, who pre 
 
DETECTIVES AT FASHIONABLE PARTIES. 217 
 
 sented me with regular cards of invitation that the 
 high-toned lady had brought with her. I was not a lit- 
 tle embarrassed, you can well imagine, for ten years* 
 knocking about among dangerous characters, and being 
 constantly engaged in putting up jobs on the most 
 brilliant members of what we call the 'swell mob,' had 
 rather unfitted me for contact with members of the 
 upper ten thousand. 
 
 And I didn't have a dress suit! 
 
 "'But that was easily managed, thanks to a costumer 
 on the Bower}^ and when I presented myself at the 
 brownstone mansion at about half-past nine, I flattered 
 myself I was quite the correct thing in my get-up. 
 
 "'Necktie, kid gloves, suit, boots, all proclaimed me 
 the proper kind of guest. One thing I am certain of; 
 I wasn't half as awkward as some of the gawks about 
 me, and I hadn't been in the parlors ten minutes before 
 I felt perfectly at my ease. 
 
 '"The hostess introduced me as a friend of her late 
 husband, and passed me over to a heavy old swell, who 
 turned out to be in the grain trade. He got me in the 
 corner, and kept buzzing me for nearly an hour about 
 the crop failures in England, and the immense export- 
 ing advantages it wonld be to this country. 
 
 "'All this time, while I v/as listening to the aged cove, 
 and trying to do my level best in replying to him, I 
 didn't forget what I had come for. My eyes went up 
 and down the room like a patrolman, studying each 
 face and watching keenly if any of the guests disap- 
 peared from the rooms, after formally entering them. 
 There was no reason for anticipating any dishonest 
 operation, and my position was looked upon, both by 
 
 Ik 
 
218 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 myself and the lady of the house, as a sinecure ; but, 
 nevertheless, I could not drive it from my mind that 
 something of a sensational nature would turn up during 
 the course of the evening. 
 "'And it dkl. 
 
 "'There was a very stylish, vivacious, handsome 
 widow present, to whom I had been introduced. It 
 struck me then that she talked too much; that she sur- 
 rounded herself with a cloud of conversation which 
 concealed from every one but myself a certain restless- 
 ness, which was a sure indication of a project being 
 evolved in her brain. 
 
 "*The wedding presents, which were very handsome, 
 were all arranged in a brilliantly illuminated room 
 up stairs, which, when the survey of them was finished, 
 was left in charge of a faithful negro servant belong- 
 ing to the establishment. Among the collection was a 
 handsome, rare old point lace fichu. This was very 
 valuable, and in proportion to its size, really the most 
 valuable of all. 
 
 "'It was shortly after we entered the refreshment 
 room that the widow complained of feeling ill. A 
 chocolate ice had not agreed with her, and the apart- 
 ment was too hot. She would go into the parlor and 
 rest awhile. The time she chose was when every 
 guest was more or less occupied with the cheerful task 
 of eating and drinking, when all the servants of the 
 house, excepting the one guarding the presents, were 
 employed down stairs. 
 
 " * I looked steadily at the lady of the house, and with 
 all the significance that I could command. This was 
 to prepare her for what I was about to say, which was: 
 
THE PRETTY WIDOW AND THE DETECTIVE. 219 
 
 **** Hadn't I better take Mrs. a glass of wine ?* 
 
 Certainly ; it is very kind of you,' she replied, 
 « and tell her I will be there in a moment to see if she 
 needs anything else.' 
 
 " * As I had anticipated, the parlor was empty, and 
 what was more remarkable, the front door was open. 
 
 " ' I went up the stairs as swiftly and as silently as I 
 could. When I reached the door of the room contain- 
 ing the presents, I detected the odor of chloroform. 
 
 * The door was partially closed. I pushed it open^ 
 and it was easily seen from whence the scent came. 
 There sat the darkey, insensible, in his chair, his head 
 thrown back, his face covered with a handkerchief. 
 The widow was in the act of pocketing the fichu, the 
 position of the two parties in the room clearly showing 
 how she had stolen on the negro unawares. I could 
 have arrested her then, but I had a great curiosity U\ 
 see what her future movements would be like ; so whei v 
 she made a motion to turn, I stepped closely back in 
 the shadow of the landing. She brushed past me, ancl 
 floated down the stairs like a silken sigh, I after her. 
 
 " ' All this hadn't taken more than five minutes. In- 
 stead of going straight into the parlor, she passed to the 
 front door, which, as I have said, was open. I crouched 
 down, but still sufficiently in range of vision to see he.v 
 beckon her coachman, who was, singularly enough, ii\ 
 the neighborhood at so early an hour. He came to the 
 stoop, and she passed him the fichu. 
 
 ' Then she entered the parlor again, and when I, in 
 about ten seconds, followed her, she was the most beau- 
 tiful sick woman, lying among the satin cushions of a 
 sofa, that I ever saw. 
 
220 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 " * I went to the mantel where I had placed the glass 
 of wine, and said, in my most engaging manner, 'Mrs. 
 
 sent me to you with this, and her compliments. 
 
 Try it ; it will do you good.' 
 
 " * There was no deceiving her. She saw at once 
 that something terrible had happened. How came the 
 wine to be in the parlor ? I must have been there dur- 
 ing her absence. Still, she did not give herself up to 
 confusion. She shivered a little, and said, ' Is there not 
 a door open somewhere ?* 
 
 " * * Yes,' I replied, ' the front door. Since you did 
 not close it just now when you spoke to your coach- 
 man, I thought you desired it open. Fresh air is a 
 good thing after chloroform.' 
 
 " 'This ended it. She looked up at me and swooned. 
 In' the meantime the hostess and the guests began to 
 arrive. They crowded about the widow, and I, taking 
 advantage of an opportunity which presented itself, told 
 the lady of the house what had occurred. Just as I 
 did so, a servant discovered his chloroform.ed compan- 
 ion, and came shouting down the stairs. 
 
 " ' All was confusion. Four or five other ladies 
 fainted in convenient corners, and in a few minutes the 
 theory was that the establishment had been entered by 
 means of a skeleton key, and that perhaps even now 
 every closet was jammed with burglars and murderers. 
 I know that we had a jolly good search all over the 
 house. The bride was at first terribly annoyed at the 
 loss, but when her mother told .her the circumstances, 
 dumb horror and surprise took possession of her. 
 
 " Tf I hadn't been there the plan would have worked 
 beautifully. The front door was opened for three rea- 
 
 m 
 
THE COACHMAN ACCOMPLICE. 
 
 221 
 
 sons — to communicate with the coachman, to start the 
 theory of a sneak thief, and to have blown away what- 
 ever dehcate traces of chloroform may have clung to 
 the widow's dress. 
 
 " * I saw the pretty widow home that night in her own 
 carriage. When we were a block away from the 
 house, I made her get the stolen article from the dri- 
 ver. He was thunderstruck at the request, and was 
 very much worried at my presence. I returned the 
 loot, and that's all there is to the story.' 
 ' Didn't they prosecute her?' 
 
 " * No ; what was the use. They got the fichu — the 
 fish-hook, as I always call it — but they let the fish off. 
 Such things are not stealing among the way up — it's 
 kleptomania.' 
 
 " * But the coachman,' — 
 
 "'He wasn't a real coachman, anymore than she 
 was a real widow. They were man and wife, but he 
 could work better as coachman.' 
 
 " ' Then this was their regular business.' 
 
 " ' Been at it for years. I squeezed Mr. Coachman 
 on my own account, and got over one hundred pawn 
 tickets from him, making quite a neat 'spec' by offer- 
 ing to return goods to parties if no questions were 
 asked. Altogether, my first evening among the ' lum- 
 tums' panned out well.' 
 
 IV. 
 
 FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS. 
 
 Every lady of fashion in New York has a certain 
 day of the week set apart on which she receives her 
 "dear five hundred friends." At such times she is "at 
 
222 NEW YORK. 
 
 home" to all her acquaintances of both sexes, who may 
 wish to call. These are very select affairs, and are 
 occasions for the display of magnificent costumes by 
 the lady visitors. Few gentlemen are present, the 
 hours being generally from four to six, a period of the 
 day when the male creature is occupied with other 
 matters; so the ladies usually have the field to them- 
 selves. On such occasions any man who may happen 
 to be present is pretty sure of being the centre of a 
 circle of attraction, not because of any particular merit 
 in himself, but simply because he is a creature who 
 does not wear petticoats. A correspondent of The 
 Queen, the London "Lady's Newspaper," thus describes 
 one of these gatherings: — 
 
 "Of course the awning is up, and it is something 
 better than a roof on poles, being a completely enclosed 
 passage, sides, roof, floor and all, complete, running 
 down to the curb, so that no wind or rain can penetrate 
 it. The crowd of curious ragamuffins is thus dispensed 
 with, and the kid boots and the front hair — which, by 
 the way, is always frizzled, or crimped or curled in some 
 loose \i^ay, on the American female head — protected 
 from the ravages of the elements. The first figure we 
 see is a remarkable one. Standing on the steps is a 
 portly man, with pompous aids, the sexton of some 
 fashionable temple, who by virtue of his office holds an 
 / unassailable position in New York society. He is a 
 kind of social factotum at all parties of consideration. 
 
 "New York houses are mostly somewhat narrow — 
 three or four rooms on the ground floor, one behind 
 the other and with folding doors thrown open, and per- 
 haps one or two rooms on the first floor, form the recep- 
 
FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS. 
 
 223 
 
 tion apartment, into which, without individual announce- 
 ment, we are ushered. It is an inconvenient but very 
 general custom here, even if you are making a call, for 
 the man to say, 'Step right into the parlor, sir,' indi- 
 cating the room and leaving you to obtrude your unan- 
 nounced presence on its occupants. This may be 
 awkward, but any young lady who doesn't like it can 
 remedy it. Possibly this reception is given, as is the 
 custom here, in addition to a ball, to celebrate the 
 'coming out' of a daughter of the house. If so, she has 
 some of her friends to receive with her, who have their 
 bonnets off and move round the room, introducing 
 where it is necessary — always called 'presenting' in this 
 country^ — and performing all those little offices which 
 are almost too much for one hostess. It is a good 
 plan, and quite frequent here, for the hostess to have 
 other ladies to receive with her, as besides the air of 
 comfort and familiarit)', it gives a certain 'go' to what 
 would otherwise be rather a slow and formal affair. 
 The cards have 'four to six ' on them, and, of course, in 
 the winter gas is necessary all over the house. The 
 effect of the brilliantly lighted and decorated rooms is 
 enriched by a throng of women dressed up to their eyes 
 and full of gayety. Over all these is an aspect of high 
 spirits and animation, which would strike an English 
 visitor more than anything else. 
 
 "The air of general animation over a part}^ here, 
 composed of a different class of people, is, perhaps, not 
 excepting beaut^^ its most charming element ; it is the 
 aggregate effect of the individual vivacity and piquancy 
 af the American female character, which, in its best 
 representatives, seems to add these traits to all that is 
 
224 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 estimable in English women — a tolerably bold state- 
 ment, I fear, for your columns. Observe this young 
 lady here, on the sofa, a belle, and considered 'bright,' 
 but there are many like her in the room. Her beauty 
 and grace, her complexion and dress, we will put on 
 one side or wont mention, as the Irish writer puts it; 
 but mark her sparkling face and genial good humor as 
 she talks, the felicity of her language, the readiness of 
 her repartee, always delicate, but generally with a 
 dehcious Httle dash of satire; the clearness of her 
 ideas, the tact with which she draws out her companion, 
 to show his best points, and the generally unaffected 
 ease with which she sustains a lengthened conversation 
 on any subject under the sun, with fool or wise man. 
 Mr. Editor, they are a wonderful race are these Ameri- 
 can women; but one word about the flowers, this after- 
 noon, and I shall have done. The rooms are covered 
 with them in every shape and variety of tasteful 
 arrangement. Wreaths of the fresh and graceful 
 smilax — a fern which I have not seen in England, but 
 which is admirably adapted to decoration — interspersed 
 with flowers, depend from the chandeliers, cornices, 
 and mantelpieces. A magnificent cornucopia of all 
 kinds of flowers, perfect in formation and in the blend- 
 ing of color, stands in one corner of the room. In the 
 next, where the chandelier is hung, is a large, loosely 
 made ball, nearly a yard in diameter, of different-colored 
 flowers, and embedded in it on either side, also formed 
 of flowers, is a graceful H, the initial letter of the 
 daughters name for whom the reception is given. 
 Plateaus of flowers stand against 'the walls and hang 
 from the pictures, while the mantelpieces are buds of 
 
FASHIONABLE WEDDINGS. 
 
 225 
 
 moss and fern, in which rare exotics are growing, or 
 drooping plants form a natural fringe toward the effect 
 of freshness, light, and nature's beauty that this floral 
 wealth gives to rooms which, without it, have nothing 
 to depend on but art. It is the great forte of Ameri- 
 can entertainment. Flowers are very dear in winter, 
 but no cost is spared to secure their display." 
 
 V. 
 
 FASHIONABLE WEDDINGS. 
 
 The Roman Catholic Church teaches that the "holy 
 estate of Matrimony" is a sacrament, and the Protest- 
 ant Churches hold that it is "honorable among all men; 
 and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or 
 lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, 
 and in the fear of God." New York fashionable 
 society regards it as a financial matter, to be regulated 
 and arranged upon strict business principles. True, 
 there may be affection on one or both sides, and many 
 happy marriages are contracted in this class ; but it may 
 be laid down as a general rule that fashionable mar- 
 riages are arranged with regard to the amount of 
 money on one or both sides. Men who have risen to 
 wealth often make the marriao^e of a son or dauofhter 
 the means of getting their families within the sacred pale 
 of fashionable society. Again, there are many aristo- 
 cratic families, genuine Knickerbockers, who have run 
 down in wealth, and are unable to provide for a son or 
 daughter. With all their blue blood, they know they 
 cannot maintain their places in society without money. 
 That must be had, and the only way to procure it is to 
 
 15 
 
226 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 arrange a marriage for their child with an offspring of 
 one of the " Newly Rich." It may be a bitter pill to 
 swallow, but it has to be done. The money that will 
 thus be brought into the family will enable their child 
 to keep his or her accustomed place in society, and, of 
 course, Papa and Mamma will not be allowed to suffer. 
 So a desirable partner is sought. Personal qualifica- 
 tions, such as beauty, intelligence, education, or refine- 
 ment, are not considered; money is the sole desideratum^ 
 and every effort is made to secure as rich a match as 
 possible. The acquaintance of some wealthy shoddy 
 family is formed; every social attention is showered 
 upon them ; the intimacy of the Knickerbockers opens 
 the way for them into the most exclusive circles of fash- 
 ionable life, and they are made to taste the sweets of 
 this seventh heaven to their utmost. The "Newly 
 Rich" are delighted; their proudest hopes are realized; 
 they rank among the most select families of New York, 
 and at last are at the very summit of fashionable fame. 
 When the proper moment arrives, Knickerbocker 
 squarely proposes to Shoddy that the two families, 
 already so intimate, shall be bound to each other by a 
 still stronger tie, in the marriage of their children. 
 Shoddy, in delight, accepts the proposition, and the 
 matter is arranged by the heads of the respective fami- 
 lies before the young people are informed of the good 
 fortune in store for them. The parents have too much 
 confidence in the good sense of their children to appre- 
 hend any opposition. Young as they are, they will be 
 sure to see the advantages of a match which will bring 
 with it fortune to one and a secured social position to 
 the other. The young fashionables of the great city 
 
HOW FASHIONABLE MARRIAGES ARE ARRANGED. 227 
 
 are very wise in their generation, as regards money. 
 They have been taught and appreciate its power. The 
 one cannot afford to throw away such a brilHant chance 
 for social distinction, and the other shudders at the 
 thought of stepping down from the place so long occu- 
 pied, and giving up the power and distinction that 
 wealth brings with it. Tender ties may have been 
 formed by one or both, in some other direction; but 
 these are remorselessly severed, and the "sensible" 
 young people fall into the arrangement of their parents, 
 and meekly submit to the inevitable. After all, what 
 matters it. The marriage yoke, as they see, sits loosely 
 upon those of their acquaintance who bear it. Why 
 should it be different with them? So the matter is 
 arranged, the marriage is solemnized, and society is 
 delighted with the splendid match. 
 
 Again, fashionable marriages are often arranged with 
 regard to the business advantages that will follow 
 them. Two fortunes combined are more powerful than 
 either could be singly, and as wealth is the great power 
 in New York, it is well to concentrate as much as pos- 
 sible in one family. So the sale of hearts and hands 
 goes on from year to year, and paves the way for more 
 of the domestic infelicity that makes fashionable life so 
 hollow and empty. 
 
 Oftentimes one of the Newly Rich deliberately seeks 
 out some man of assured position, and offers him 'the 
 hand of his daughter, and a handsome fortune with 
 it. The condition of the bargain is that the gentleman, 
 on his part, shall do all in his power to secure every 
 social advantage for the family of the lady. The girl 
 may be handsome and clever, or the reverse, but if 
 
 1^. 
 
228 NEW YORK. 
 
 the sum tendered is sufficiently large, the offer is rarely 
 refused. 
 
 When an engagement is contracted, it is promptly 
 announced in one of the "Society journals," of which 
 there are several in New York. Then the marriage 
 is hurried forward with as much speed as is consistent 
 with propriety. The ceremony, of course, is celebrated 
 at a fashionable church. To be married from St. 
 Thomas' or Grace Church is to enjoy the highest social 
 distinction on such occasions. Invitations are sent out to 
 fashionable friends, and at the appointed time the 
 church is filled with a throng of magnificently dressed 
 ladies, and gentlemen in the regulation full dress. 
 Two or more clergymen are present to tie the knot, 
 and a reporter of one of the city dailies is on hand to 
 "write up" the wedding in the most glowing terms. 
 Evening is generally the time chosen for the ceremony, 
 as gaslight is more favorable than daylight for showing 
 off the toilettes of the bridal party and the invited 
 guests. 
 
 The English style is now the "correct thing" at 
 fashionable weddings. At the appointed hour the 
 organ breaks forth into the exquisite strains of the 
 "Bridal Chorus," from Lohengrin, and the bridegroom 
 enters from the vestry room, accompanied by his "best 
 man," and takes his place before the altar rail, while 
 the clergy file into the church and, stand ready to 
 perform their functions. Then the great doors of the . 
 church are thrown open, and the bridal party enters, 
 led by the bride, in full dress, on the arm of her father. 
 The places are taken at the altar rail, the groom re- 
 ceives the bride from her father's hands, and the cere- 
 
GUARDING THE BRIDAL PRESENTS. 
 
 229 
 
 mony begins, the organ all the while filling the church 
 with a low undertone of delicious harmony. 
 
 The ceremony over, the bridal party returns to the 
 residence of the bride, where the intimate friends of 
 the two families quickly assemble to offer their con- 
 gratulations, inspect the wedding presents, and partake 
 of the banquet that is generally served. The pres- 
 ents are displayed in a room set apart for the 
 purpose, and are always handsome, and sometimes 
 magnificent. Experience has taught the master of the 
 house that even fashionable New York cannot be 
 trusted alone with so many costly articles, and a de- 
 tective is generally on hand to look after their safety. 
 
 Yet it is not professional thieves that those who get 
 up fashionable entertainments chiefly fear. The most 
 dangerous class, because the most numerous, are in- 
 cluded among the invited guests, and are called, when 
 detected, kleptomaniacs. 
 
 For almost every large and fashionable wedding 
 there is a request made upon Inspector Byrnes, in 
 charge of the Detective Bureau at the Police Central 
 Office, for an officer to watch the array of presents, 
 and in general to protect the house and its guests from 
 loss by theft. Among the Central Office detectives on 
 whom this duty frequently falls is George W. Lanthier. 
 He is a young man of good address and appearance, 
 who wears a fine diamond in his shirt front, and whose 
 clothes fit him. His fellow detectives say that when 
 he is arrayed in a Prince Albert coat, with silk facings, 
 for an afternoon wedding, there is nothing left to be 
 asked for by the most critical observer, but when he 
 appears attired in full costume for an evening wedding 
 
230 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 or reception, language fails. Mr. Lanthier was sought 
 out recently. He said his duties were simple, and for 
 the most part agreeable. 
 
 "The first thing I do," he said, "when I go to a 
 reception, is to take a look through the house, up 
 and down stairs, in order to acquaint myself with the 
 different rooms as well as with the position of valuable 
 articles. For this reason I usually go a short time be- 
 fore the guests are expected. While the guests are 
 arriving I usually stand in the hall to watch them as 
 they enter. I am very apt to know a professional thief 
 by his face. Where the presents are very numerous 
 and valuable I generally have the smaller ones, such 
 as the diamonds and other jewelry which a person 
 could pocket and carry away readily, put on a table 
 by themselves. Then I take a seat near them. I an:v 
 supposed, by most of those who see me, to be a guest. 
 If anybody guesses otherwise, I am contented they 
 should have their opinion. I inform myself about the 
 presents, and when guests come up to inspect them, 
 they naturally fall to talking, to express their admira- 
 tion. I am able to tell them about the presents. One 
 guest, therefore, sees me talking with another, and he 
 is not likely to remark that I remain in one part of the. 
 room all the afternoon or evening. If I sat still and 
 said nothing, I would soon become an object of notice. 
 
 Stories are told by detectives, of ladies, whose fami- 
 lies are of the highest respectability, whom they have 
 pointed out to the givers of entertainments as having 
 stolen valuable presents. In several cases related by 
 the detective^ the valuables were recovered under 
 threats of arrest, and scandals >resulted. In others, 
 
FASHIONABLE WEDDING PRESENTS. 
 
 231 
 
 the host was unwilling to make accusations, preferring" 
 to avoid the scandal that would follow an exposure. 
 In one case a lady fainted when she was accused. She 
 would not confess, and she was not searched, but it 
 was afterwards said a diamond ring was returned by 
 her father, an action which the detective who told the 
 story criticised as inexcusably simple on the father's 
 part, if he had in view merely the reputation of his 
 daughter. It is said that several series of thefts have 
 been committed by young men so fascinated with so- 
 ciety life that they lived beyond their means, and at 
 last were driven by what appeared to them necessity, 
 to steal. 
 
 A fashionable wedding is a costly affair, not only to 
 thfi families immediately concerned with it, but alsq 
 to their friends who are honored with invitations. 
 Thousands of dollars are spent upon the outfits of the 
 "happy pair;" and the fees to the clergyman, the 
 sexton, the organist and attendants at the church, and 
 the cost of the festivities after the ceremony, make up 
 an enormous sum. The friends of both families are 
 expected to send handsome presents, and as these are 
 always put on exhibition with the cards of the givers 
 attached, they are always elegant and costly. A few 
 years ago, at the wedding of one of the daughters of a 
 leading politician, the wedding presents amounted in 
 value to more than $250,000. When it is remembered 
 that marriages in fashionable life are numerous each 
 year, it will be easy to understand what a tax upon the 
 friends of the happy pair this present-giving amounts 
 to. It is a sort of fashionable "black mail" which 
 society levies upon its members. 
 
232 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 FASHIONABLE DEATH. 
 
 As only the rich can afford to Hve in New York 
 society, so only the rich can afford to die in it. Death 
 is an expensive luxury in the great city, and a fashion- 
 able funeral generally costs as much as a comfortable 
 dwelling in one of our smaller cities. In nothing, 
 probably, is the law of fashion more rigorously enforced 
 than in the burial of the dead. Music and flowers are 
 as necessary at a funeral as at a wedding, and the 
 body must be attired for its final resting-place with the 
 utmost care. The best of kid gloves must be furnished 
 to the pall bearers, and carriages must be provided in 
 which the relatives and friends may ride to the cem- 
 etery. If the funeral ceremonies be held at a church, 
 and it is one of the strictest laws of fashion that they 
 shall be, the sexton must not be neglected, nor the 
 organist and choir go unrewarded, and unless a hand- 
 some fee is given, the personal attendance of the 
 undertaker cannot be secured. Lots in fitst-class 
 cemeteries are costly, and it is indispensable that a 
 handsome and expensive monument of marble or 
 granite should be erected over the grave. And 
 besides all these expenses^ mourning apparel is ab- 
 solutely necessary; each member of the family of the 
 deceased person, and all of his or her near relatives, 
 must be clad in black, for in society, crape is both an 
 indication and a measure of fashionable grief. These 
 various items swell the bill for funeral expenses to an 
 enormous aggregate. 
 
 The undertakers' charges are very high. Rosewood 
 caskets vary in price, according to the trimmings, from 
 $90 to $150; those trimmed with black or blue velvet 
 
FASHIONABLE FUNERALS. 
 
 233 
 
 are worth as much as $250, $300, and $400, or even 
 more. A wooden casket, covered with cloth, costs 
 ^125. Coffin handles are an additional expense ; eight 
 handles are worth from ^10 to $20, while full exten- 
 sion handles, extending along both sides of the coffin, 
 are worth ^30. Coffin plates of a variety of shapes — 
 shields, crosses, square and oval — cost from to ^12, 
 including engraving. 
 
 The box in which the coffin is inclosed before it is 
 placed in the grave costs $5, and when this is taken to 
 the cemetery in advance, in order that the beauty and 
 richness of the casket may be seen through the glass 
 plates of the open hearse, an additional charge of $3.50 
 is made. From ^9 to $1 2 is charged for the use of the 
 hearse, and the price of a carriage to Calvary Cemetery 
 is $6; to Greenwood, $7; and to Woodlawn, $11. 
 The charge for ice-coffins varies from ^12 to $18. 
 Scarfs are worth $7 or $8, and gloves for the pall-bear- 
 ers cost $2.50 a pair. Shrouds are made of lawn or 
 merino, and vary in price from ^3 to $40. When a 
 body is deposited in a vault, an engraved copper plate 
 is usually procured, the price being about $2. The 
 personal attendance of an undertaker is worth from $i 
 to $50, and porters to carry the coffin from the house 
 to the hearse are paid $1.50 each ; if they also accom- 
 pany the friends to the church, their services are worth 
 $2.50 for each. For his services in opening the church, 
 tolling the bell, and attending to his duties as usher, 
 the sexton is paid from ^10 to $20, and the choir and 
 organist are paid from $40 to $50 for the funeral 
 march and other music. The amount of money ex- 
 pended for flowers is very large in many cases. Large 
 
234 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 wreaths and crosses cost from $5 to $10, and large 
 crowns from $1 5 to $20. It is not an unusual thing for 
 from $600 to $800 to be expended in procuring and 
 preserving flowers, and more than $2000 has been spent 
 for this purpose on the occasion pf a single burial. 
 Grief most generally expresses itself thus extravagantly 
 in the cases of young widows of rich old husbands. 
 
 The expenses which have been thus far enumerated 
 include only those which enter into the undertaker's 
 bill/ At the cemetery the cost of a lot swells the 
 expenditure, and it is no inconsiderable amount. At 
 Greenwood each lot contains 378 square feet. Its 
 form depends upon the surface of the ground, and may 
 be circular, oval, oblong, square, or irregular. The 
 situation determines the value; the prices vary generally 
 from $500 to ^800, although some in specially desir- 
 able places are valued at $1000. Half, third, and 
 quarter lots are sold at $275, ^200, and $155 each and 
 upward, according to situation. Entire lots of a quad- 
 rangular form, fourteen feet by twenty-seven feet, 
 admit fifteen graves each; half lots contain six graves, 
 third lots four graves, and quarter lots three graves. 
 At Woodlawn a somewhat different system is pursued. 
 Ground in the cemetery is sold at prices ranging from 
 80 cents to $2 a square foot, and the shape and size of 
 lots vary with the extent of the purchase and the for- 
 mation of the ground. Half lots, however, are sold 
 for ^187.50 and 20, according to situation, and 
 quarter lots for $60. But in all cases where fractional 
 lots are purchased, granite corner posts must be pro- 
 cured, the prices for which are $9 for half lots and ^^4 
 for quarter lots. 
 
FUNERAL EXPENSES. 
 
 235 
 
 The ordinary depth of graves is six feet, although 
 some are dug seven, eight, nine, and even ten feet in 
 depth. The usual charge for opening a grave is $5 for 
 adults and $4. for children. At both Greenwood and 
 Woodlawn the cost of an interment in the receiving 
 vault is $25. If the body is removed in three months $20 
 will be returned, but it will be buried in a lot provided for 
 that purpose if not removed in three months at Wood- 
 lawn, and in six months at Greenwood. This rule was made 
 because a few years ago the receiving tomb at Green- 
 wood became overcrowded on account of the low charge 
 for depositing a body in it. But as the demand 
 increased, prices advanced, and the market naturally 
 corrected itself precisely as demand and supply regu* 
 late other markets. Single graves in either of these, 
 cemeteries can be procured for J25, but at the Ceme^ 
 tery of the Evergreens, and at Cypress Hills, the price 
 of a single grave is $12. For opening a vault $4 is 
 charged at Greenwood, and $3 at Woodlawn. In both 
 these cemeteries a person who purchases but does non 
 wish to use an entire lot, may sell a portion of it, bu(5 
 speculation and ''corners" in lots are prevented by the 
 fact that if an exorbitant price is demanded the pur- 
 chaser will find it much cheaper to buy from the trustees 
 of the cemetery than from an individual lot owner. Ax 
 Woodlawn a receiving lot is provided for those who 
 choose this method of sepulture in preference to the 
 receiving tombs. The price of a grave in the receiv- 
 ing lot is $38 for an adult, and $30 for a child. 
 
 Another matter of expenditure closely connected 
 with the funeral is the tombstone or monument. In 
 these there is a countless variety in material and de- 
 
236 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 sign, from the plain marble slab, entirely destitute of 
 ornament, to the elegant and highly-polished shaft of 
 Scotch granite. The material from which the majority 
 of tombstones are made is Italian marble: The native 
 American marble is not sufficiently firm to withstand 
 exposure to the weather. Quincy granite is exten- 
 sively used, as is also the granite from Aberdeen, 
 Scotland. In localities adjacent to quarries of brown- 
 stone, that article is used for the construction of monu- 
 ments, but it is objectionable, because it rapidly 
 becomes covered with moss. Tombstones of marble 
 can be obtained for J 15, and from this the prices range 
 to $450. Occasionally as much as $600 is paid for a 
 tombstone, but generally when so large an amount 
 as this is expended a monument is purchased. The 
 tombstones are generally placed on a block of granite, 
 and the foundation must be placed below the reach of 
 frost. The price is affected by differences in the style 
 of ornamentation, crosses, wreaths, anchors, urns, palls, 
 and figures of many sorts being carved in the marble. 
 A marble monument, fifteen feet in height, without any 
 ornamentation, cannot be bought for less than $900. 
 The price of monuments of Ouincy granite is fifteen 
 per cent, more than those of Italian marble, and Scotch 
 granite is more costly still. The latter is greatly in 
 demand, because of the high polish of which it is 
 capable, but there is an ad valorem duty of twenty 
 per cent, on it, which only the deepest grief consents 
 to pay. In the vicinity of New York there are monu- 
 ments of Scotch granite which cost ^10,000, and a 
 number of Ouincy granite monuments varying in value 
 from $500 to $20,000. The Canda monument is made 
 
COST OF A FASHIONABLE FUNERAL. 237 
 
 of Italian marble, and cost ^40,000. Vaults are also 
 expensive. The prices of those in Greenwood and 
 Woodlawn, and also in Calvary Cemetery, var)' from 
 $3000 to $15,000, and there is one in Trinity Cemetery 
 which cost $50,000. 
 
 From these facts the following schedule of the cost 
 of a first-class funeral on the American plan may be 
 adduced : 
 
 I Rosewood coffin, lined with velvet, $300 
 
 I Coffin-plate (name, and all the virtues engraved gratis), - - 12 
 8 Full extension silver-plated handles, ----- 30 
 I Coffin-box, to protect coffin, - S 
 
 I Ice-box (second-hand), 15 
 
 I Shroud, --.--.25 
 
 I Hearse, - - 10 
 
 10 Coaches to Greenwood, - -- -- -.-70 
 
 8 Pairs gloves to pall-bearers, 20 
 8 Scarfs for pall-bearers and one for the door, - - • - lo 
 I Undertaker's fee for personal attendance, - - - - 25 
 
 4 Porters to carry out coffin, - - - > 6 
 
 I Sexton at church, - - -- -- -- - 15 
 
 I Organist and choir, ---------40 
 
 Flowers, ---- - 100 
 
 I Lot in Greenwood, 600 
 
 I Grave-digger, - - 5 
 
 1 Monument, home manufacture, of Ouincy granite, - - - 900 
 
 Total, - -- - $2191 
 
 Well, after all, the power of money, the might of 
 fashion, cease at the grave. Beyond that dreary portal 
 to the unknown world — ; but society does not bother 
 its head about these things. 
 
 After the funeral is over, none of the feminine be- 
 reaved ones can be seen for a certain length of time, the 
 period of their seclusion being fixed by a rigid law. 
 
238 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER 'XIII. 
 
 THE STREET RAILWAYS. 
 
 THE PRESENT STREET-RAILWAY SYSTEM— IMMENSE BUSINESS DONE BY THE SURFACE ROADS—. 
 EXPENSES AND RECEIPTS — HOW THE ELEVATED ROADS HAVE AFFECTED THE HORSE RAI^^- 
 WA,VS — DISCOMFORTS OF THE STREET CARS — THE CONDUCTORS AND DRIVERS — STOR^ OF A 
 conductor's lot — HARD WORK AND POOR PAY — KNOCKING DOWN — HOW IT IS DONE — BEAT* 
 ING THE BELL-PUNCH, 
 
 There are thirty- two lines of street (or surface) rail- 
 ways traversing New York. Their general direction is 
 either from south to north, or across the Island from 
 east to west. The fare, on all the lines but two, is five 
 cents. On the Madison avenue line it is six cents, and 
 on the short line, from Vesey street to the South Ferry, 
 three cents. Notwithstanding the enormous patronage 
 of the Elevated roads, the surface railways are still 
 liberally supported. Many people have a nervous 
 dread of the aerial structures of which New York is 
 «o proud, and remain faithful to the horse cars ; and 
 Abr those who v/ish to ride short distances only, the 
 '3urface roads are the most useful. Then, again, dur- 
 ing the hours when the fare on " The Elevated" is ten 
 cents, many persons, with whom time is not an object, 
 use the horse cars to save the extra half-dime. The 
 peculiar shape of the city renders it possible for all the 
 various modes of travel — the Elevated, the surface 
 roads, and the stages — to be operated with profit. The 
 majority of the lines run from south to north, and 
 centre in the neighborhood of the Post Otifice. Before 
 the construction of the Elevated roads, tlie travel on the 
 
EXPENSES OF STREET RAILROADS. 239 
 
 Street cars was enormous ; the companies earned fabu- 
 lous sums ; and the stockholders received dividends 
 the true amount of which could rarely be ascertained. 
 It was known that they were extraordinarily large. In 
 1875, year before the successful completion of the 
 Elevated roads, the street cars carried over one hun- 
 dred and sixty million passengers. Over 1500 cars 
 and more than 12,000 horses were employed in this 
 work, and the cost of operating the 450 miles of track 
 included within the city limits, was ^6,500,000. At an 
 average of five cents per passenger, the receipts of the 
 roads were estimated at over $8,000,000. The receipts 
 of the Third avenue road alone were $1,666,000, of 
 which $300,000 was clear profit. 
 
 There are many expenses attached to street fait- 
 roads that travelers are not aware of In addition to 
 the wages of conductors and drivers, there is the out- 
 lay for offices, clerks, watchmen, starters, switchmen, 
 changers for changing the horses at the termini, fore- 
 njen of stables and stablemen, feed men, washers, 
 horse shoers, blacksmiths, carpenters, painters, road and 
 track men, and others. To pay all these, more than * 
 one-half of the amount set down for operating the road 
 is expended. The feed of the horses requires nearly 
 a quarter of the total amount, while large sums are an- 
 nually expended on fuel, gas, lights for cars, oil for 
 wheels, \yaste, the water tax, and other expenses. 
 Damages and law suits for accidents amount on the 
 average to over one per cent, on the gross receipts, 
 and insurance costs three-fourths of one per cent, 
 more. The expense of removing snow and ice is con- 
 siderable every year, aggregating about $100,000 foi 
 
240 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 the season, if favorable, and often requiring double 
 that amount of money. The clearing of the snow from 
 about half a mile of track during one winter cost the 
 Dry Dock Company nearly ^2000. The average cost 
 of cars is about $900, and of horses about $150. A 
 car rarely lasts more than three years, the cost of re- 
 pairing amounting to nearly the original ouday in that 
 time. The average life of a railroad horse is about 
 five years, and very often several horses will be in hos- 
 pital at a time, disease or accident rendering them 
 unfit for duty. Horses have often been lamed by sew- 
 ing-machine needles and hoop-skirts, which were left 
 on the track. In times of epidemic disease among 
 horses, the large numbers that are congregated in rail- 
 road stables cause it to spread rapidly, and to prevent 
 the regular running of the cars. These are only a few 
 of the many difficulties which the managers of street 
 railroads must meet. The open or excursion cars 
 have to be in the storehouse about seven months of 
 the year, as they can only be used during the warm 
 months. About one-fifth of the entire stock of cars is 
 idle during the whole year. The cost of shoeing horses 
 is also an important matter of expense, aggregating for 
 all the roads in the city over ^500,000 per year. The 
 number of nails used in shoeing amounts annually to 
 hundreds of millions. 
 
 Since the opening of the Elevated roads the receipts 
 and profits of the leading surface lines have been 
 gready reduced, but sdll all condnue to be operated at 
 a profit, and some of the horse roads which run along 
 the streets occupied by their aerial rivals are begin- 
 ning to experience a return of their old prosperity. 
 
DIRTY HORSE CARS. 
 
 241 
 
 As a rule, the horse-cars are not nice. Some of the 
 lines run clean and handsome cars, but the majority 
 of these vehicles are dirty, badly ventilated, and full of 
 vermin. In the winter the floor is covered with straw, 
 as a protection from the cold ; but this soon becomes 
 foul, and constitutes an intolerable nuisance. 
 
 All sorts of people are met on the street cars, and a 
 crowded car is a favorite place for pickpockets to ply 
 their trade. These generally work in parties of two 
 or three, to render detection difficult and escape easy. 
 
 THE THIRD AVENUE DEPOT. 
 
 The drivers and conductors are often brutal wretches, 
 and insult and maltreat their passengers in a manner 
 that would be incredible, were not the facts so well 
 attested. Many, on the other hand, are honest and 
 courteous. All are overworked and poorly paid. 
 They are on duty about fifteen or sixteen hours out of 
 twenty-four, and have no holidays, unless they choose 
 to forfeit a day*s pay. The drivers receive from $2.25 
 to $2.75, and the conductors from $2 to $2.50 per diem. 
 
 16 
 
242 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The lot of a horse car conductor is a peculiar one, 
 and his life stands apart from that of most men. While 
 there is considerable monotony about it — and to 
 the outsider who sees only the bell-punch and the bell- 
 rope it seems all monotony — it is, after all, a decidedly 
 novel career. The conductor has his joys and sorrows ; 
 his life is made up of shadow and sunshine, and humor 
 and pathos mark the round of his daily duties, as is the 
 case with all of us. The story of one conductor is very 
 much the story of all. While they fare better on some 
 lines and worse on others, take them right through and 
 the narrative has but slight variation. Jump on any 
 car and talk with any of them, and the similarity 
 of their circumstances strikes you at once. The story 
 told by one of them not long since is the story of all, 
 •and his epitome of his accustomed association is an 
 epitome of them all. It was told amid the roar of the 
 street and the jingle of the bells; it was interrupted by 
 passengers and the collection of fares; it was renewed 
 while Avaiting at the depot, but taken as a whole it was 
 somewhat as follows: — 
 
 "You want a sort of running account of my daily 
 work and what is required of us when we first go on 
 the road? Well, we have to furnish our suits. 
 If it is summer time the suit costs us from ^14 to ^16, 
 while the winter apparel is worth several dollars more. 
 Then we have to procure an overcoat, and some of us 
 are required to make a deposit on the bell-punch. Of 
 course that is repaid us whenever we leave. Then we 
 must have a watch, and one that will keep good time. 
 We have to regulate our watches by the large clock in 
 the d^ot, and any variation makes it all the more diffi- 
 
A conductor's lot is not a happy one. 243 
 
 cult for us to run on time. Our clothes rnust be kept 
 clean, and we are expected always to present a neat 
 appearance and get down to the depot in the morning 
 about five minutes before our car starts. The mats, 
 which I took up the night before and which the driver 
 has shaken, I put in their places. And just here let me 
 say that we are compelled to keep our car clean and 
 have the windows washed whenever they need it. I 
 sweep out the car the last thing at night and before 
 running in with the other cars, in order to avoid scatter- 
 ing dust over them. I am supposed to have full con- 
 trol over the car, and the driver is, to a certain extent, 
 under me. If there is any trouble between us we can 
 make it unpleasant for each other, but I have the privi- 
 lege to report any misconduct or disobedience, and the 
 conductor is generally sustained. 
 
 "Before starting out I take a certain amount in 
 change, which is charged against me by the cashier. 
 Some men turn their cash in at the end of each trip, 
 but most of us wait until night, and hand the account 
 for the entire day in at once. At the close of every 
 trip I make out my report, specifying on this card the 
 amount. As a general thing, my account comes out 
 square, but once in a while I find myself out a few cents. 
 It is rare that I find a surplus in my favor. Occasion- 
 ally I will give too little change, or mistake one of those 
 twenty-cent pieces for a quarter, thus cheating the 
 passenger, but usually the other way. For a long time 
 we were sold on those twenty-cent coins, and learned to 
 be cautious. Then once in awhile, when the car 
 is full and we are making change rapidly, a three-cent 
 piece or one of those small half-dimes will get in between 
 
244 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Other change which we hand to a passenger. Of course 
 we are 'docked' in those cases. The same way with 
 counterfeit money — we have to run the risk and bear 
 the loss. I got stuck on a five dollar note not long 
 ago. The receiver handed it back to me the next day 
 and charged me with it. I had to get rid of it as best 
 I could. They are pretty lenient with us, however, 
 and we do not often suffer. 
 
 There is a difference as to the time given for meals 
 and stops by the lines. I have about two minutes at 
 the lower end of the trip and from seven to fourteen 
 at the upper. In the evening we get from fifteen to 
 twenty. About fifteen minutes is allowed us for meals — 
 that is, we have that time between trips at noon and 
 night, but if we are behind time that is taken off and 
 we have so much less to eat in. We generally manage 
 to have full time, however, for eating. Our meals are 
 brought us by our children or wives, and are placed in 
 the conductors' room at the depot. Some of the men 
 live close enough to run home and get a bite. We 
 get very little time to see our families, I tell you, except 
 when we get our day off Some of the roads let you 
 have whatever day you ask for, and supply your place 
 with one of the extras. An "extra" is a man who is 
 substituted, and generally has been taken off the regular 
 force for disobeying orders. Slight disobedience, such 
 as neglect to clean your car, often places you on the 
 extra list, while gross carelessness will discharge you. 
 You get no pay on your holidays, while you are paid 
 from $2.00 to $2.50 a day while on duty. The "trip- 
 pers," as those men are called who only run three- 
 quarters of a day, get $1.50. I know the pay is not so 
 
LIFE OF A CAR CONDUCTOR. 
 
 245 
 
 poor, compared with many other occupations, but then 
 we have so little time to ourselves, or for sleep. I only- 
 get five hours a day sleep, and I am terribly tired when 
 the work is over. It is very hard to awaken me in the 
 morning, so soundly do I sleep. All the chance we get 
 to sit down is between trips or on this board seat, 
 which we pay for ourselves, and that is not over com- 
 fortable, as you can see. 
 
 "Our life is pretty monotonous, and yet all sorts of 
 scenes occur to give it variety. If it was not for that, 
 1 could not stand it, and so most of the men say. We 
 have all kinds of people, and articles of every descrip- 
 tion travel with us. The washerwoman gets on with 
 her basket of clothes; the tailor brings in a bundle; 
 the emigrant rides with a big bag or small trunk ; the 
 lady has a dozen small packages, and the caterer car- 
 ries dainties for a party. Now and then a funny thing 
 happens that sets the car in a roar of laughter. A 
 man got in the morning after the election in Indiana 
 and Ohio and purchased a paper. When he read the 
 result, he rolled the paper up and fired it the length of 
 the car, narrowly missing a dozen heads and striking a 
 small boy with a pail of milk here on the platform. A 
 German got on board the other day, who could not 
 speak a word of English. Fortunately, I understand 
 German a little, and was able to make out that he 
 wanted to get out at Twenty-second street. When we 
 reached there I told him, putting my hand up to pull 
 the bell, as he had several immense bundles. He shook 
 his head and drew my hand back, so we went on. I 
 tried to find out what he meant, but he laughed and 
 said nothing. Suddenly, when we were moving quite 
 
246 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 fast, he gathered up his luggage, shook hands with me, 
 and before I could comprehend his movements, jumped 
 off. He turned over and over, his bundles flew in 
 every direction and his hat rolled into the gutter. At 
 first I thought he was hurt, but he sat up in the street, 
 kissed his hand to me, and laughed loud enough to be 
 heard a block off. 
 
 " We conductors have our annoyances also. It is 
 hard to tell who worry us the most, but I guess the 
 women do. Some of them are so nervous and fidgety, 
 never knowing where they want to go, and asking 
 every minute if we have reached there. They get out 
 on the platform before the car stops, and often have to 
 be held back from jumping off They start out to shop 
 sometimes, and forget their purses. After riding a 
 block or two they suddenly discover the lack of money, 
 and either declare there are pickpockets in the car or 
 else are in tribulation lest we will put them oft"" right 
 away. On rainy days we have to raise their umbrellas; 
 and wait for them to get their dresses adjusted. Then 
 those of them who go marketing bring huge baskets, 
 which we have to lift on and off Still, we ought to be 
 courteous, and I think most of us are, though the ladies 
 do not often take the pains to thank us for any extra 
 attention. The worst lot we have to deal with are the 
 young clerks and store boys, who ride regularly back 
 and forth from business. They put on any quantity 
 of airs and try to occupy the entire car. One of them 
 always sits out here on my seat, even though there is 
 plenty of room inside. They smoke when they 
 shouldn't, and then want to know when the rule was 
 made prohibiting it. They get in the way, jostle the 
 
 » 
 
THE WOES OF A CONDUCTOR. 
 
 247 
 
 other passengers, declare we do not give them the 
 right change, and make themselves disagreeable gen- 
 erally. The newsboys are forbidden on many of the 
 cars after nine o'clock in the morning, yet persist in 
 jumping on after that time. The small boy steals a 
 ride while we are forward in the car, and rainy days 
 we get thoroughly drenched, particularly if the storm 
 heats down the street. Only now and then are we 
 able to stand inside and avoid the wet. Then we have 
 the chronic grumblers — men and women — who want 
 the windows up and down at the same time. We put 
 them up, and some lady begins to shiver and some man 
 turns up his coaf-collar and looks daggers at us ; we 
 put them down, and at once there are complaints that 
 the air is stifling. Then there are those who annoy us 
 by charging that they left articles in the cars, very 
 valuable in most cases, which we have taken, but which, 
 strange to say, are generally found at home or in some 
 store. I might mention the drunken characters and 
 the noisy ones who ride with us, but the list I have 
 named embraces the majority of troublesome persons. 
 
 " We cannot complain generally of bad treatment by 
 the companies. They relieve us when we are sick, al- 
 low us a day to ourselves, and pay what they promise. 
 Many of us are sorry we ever took the position, for an 
 entirely different reason, and that is, that the place is 
 regarded as a degrading one by so many, and we are 
 excluded socially because of our occupation. Some 
 of us are of good families, but the hard times compelled 
 us to do anything that would secure us a competence 
 and was not actually disreputable. Yet we are mostly 
 looked down upon." 
 
248 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The practice of "knocking down" Is carried on very 
 extensively on the horse car lines, and the companies 
 suffer heavily by it. They take every precaution to 
 secure good men, and have a thorough system of 
 espionage at work to detect and stop the dishonest 
 practice. Their spies are constantly traveling over the 
 road and note the number of passengers carried on 
 the cars they are appointed to watch, and when the 
 conductor's report is handed in, they examine it, and 
 report any inaccuracies. The conductor, it is said, 
 often divides the stolen money with the spy, or "spot- 
 ter," as he is called, and thus secures his silence. He 
 has also to buy the driver's co-operation, and this costs 
 him from to $2 a day, and the driver has to pay the 
 stablemen for a similar purpose. Even the bell punch 
 fails to put a stop to the nefarious practice. Some 
 time ago, coming down town on a car of one of the 
 principal lines, a gentleman asked the driver after a 
 conductor who formerly had charge of the car, and was 
 a very popular man with the passengers on the road. 
 
 "Where is he now?" asked the gentleman. 
 
 "Discharged." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "Stealing,'* answered the driver, with complacency. 
 "They don't keep a conductor a minute after they 
 catch him at it." 
 
 " But I thought they had put a stop to that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 "Bah! they can't stop it, and on a quiet road like 
 this, it's worse than on the big roads. Half the con- 
 ductors on this line make $3 or $4 a day above their 
 wages. I know it, because I watch 'em. When a 
 
BEATING THE BELL PUNCH. 
 
 249 
 
 conductor gives a driver $i a day, you can bet he has 
 made three times as much. The bell punches, eh? 
 They're no good. I'll tell you how it's done, and you 
 can see it yourself if you watch. Suppose a man got 
 off the rear platform just as you got on here. The 
 conductor takes your fare and don't mark it on the 
 punch. If there is a "counter" on the car at the time, 
 the conductor knows it and he marks the fare. He 
 gets to know most of *em. But if he took your fare, as 
 I said, and a counter got on afterward, the counter 
 would not find out anything. There would be as 
 many passengers in the car as the punch indicated, 
 and that's the only thing the conductors have to look 
 out for. Oh! it's easy enough when you know how 
 to do it. Git up there!" 
 
250 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SIXTH AVENUE. 
 
 XAPID ADVANCE OF SIXTH AVENUE IN PROSPERITY— DESCRIPTION OF THE STRBKT— THE LOWE* 
 
 PORTION — THE TENEMENT HOUSES FRENCH FLATS THE ELEVATED RAILROAD AND ITS 
 
 STATIONS — A BUSY SCENE — SIXTH-AVENUE STORES — " MACEy'S " — THE JEFFERSON MARKET 
 POLICE COURT — booth's THEATRE — THE MASONIC TEMPLE — " THE TABERNACLE" — SIXTH 
 AVENUE BY NIGHT — A CHANGE OF SCENE— THE STREET-WALKERS — BRAZEN VICE — THE 
 FRENCH WOMEN — SNARING A VICTIM — SHAMEFUL SCENES ON THE AVENUE — THE STREET A 
 TERROR TO DECENT PEOPLE — THE ROUGHS — SIXTH-AVENUE OYSTER HOUSES AND BEER SA- 
 LOONS — SCENE IN A FLASH SALOON — A YOUTHFUL CRIMINAL — THE DETECTIVe's PRIZE — 
 SIXTH AVENUE AFTER MIDNIGHT — A DRUNKEN SINGER — " IN THE SWEET BYE-AND-BYB " — 
 NO EFFORT MADE TO CHECK THE EVIL. 
 
 Of late years Sixth avenue has come prominently 
 before the public as one of the most noted streets of 
 the great city. It commences at the northern end of 
 Carmine street, and runs northward to 59th street. At 
 this point it is broken by the Central Park, but com- 
 mences again at iioth street, the northern boundary 
 of the Park, and pursues its northward course to the 
 Harlem River. It is traversed from its southern ex- 
 tremity to the Park by the Metropolitan Elevated Rail- 
 road, and below the arcade formed by this structure 
 run the horse-cars of the Sixth-Avenue Railroad Com- 
 pany, the northern terminus of which is 59th street. 
 The avenue is solidly built up below the Park, and 
 ranks next to Broadway as a business street, being 
 devoted to the retail trade. In the lower part are a 
 number of tenement-houses, but above 34th street the 
 upper floors of the buildings are laid off" in " French 
 flats," some of which are elegant and stylish. For 
 miles on both sides of the street are handsome retail 
 stores, some of which are elegant and extensive enough 
 
FEATURES OF SIXTH AVENUE. 
 
 251 
 
 to merit a place on Broadway. The sidewalks are al- 
 ways filled with throngs of purchasers, drawn here by 
 » the fine display of goods and the prevailing belief that 
 Sixth avenue prices are lower than those of Broadway. 
 All through the day the street is bright and lively, and 
 the rapid passage of the trains on the Elevated rail- 
 road overhead adds greatly to the interest of the 
 scene. At 14th street is one of the handsomest sta- 
 tions of the Elevated road, and on the corners of this 
 street and the avenue are " Macey s" and several other 
 popular stores. "Macey's" is a world in itself, the 
 most perfect Noah's ark in the land. You can find in 
 it everything, from the simplest toys for children to 
 dress goods of the most costly kind. The crowd at 
 this part of the avenue is always greatest, and is gen- 
 erally composed of richly and fashionably-attired ladies • 
 and children; and both streets are frequently almost 
 blocked by the long lines of elegant carriages standing 
 in them and awaiting their owners. 
 
 Several handsome buildings front on Sixth avenue. 
 The first of these is the Jefferson Market Police Court, 
 a new and unique edifice, constructed of red brick 
 with sandstone trimmings, in the Italian Gothic style. 
 It is one of the most noted edifices in New York, and 
 stands on the site of one of the most disgraceful rook • 
 eries that ever shamed the metropolis. On the south- 
 east corner of 23d street is a noble edifice, built of 
 Concord granite, in the rennaissance style. This is 
 the superb theatre, built twelve years ago by Edwin 
 Booth, as a fitting house for the drama in New York. 
 It is still known as Booth's Theatre. Immediately op- 
 posite, on the northeast corner of 23d street, is the Ma- 
 
252 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 sonic Temple, also built of granite, and one of the most 
 elegant and tasteful buildings in the city. At the 
 northeast corner of 34th street is the Tabernacle Bap- 
 tist Church, a handsome edifice of brownstone. Be- 
 tween 40th and 42d streets, on the east side of* the 
 avenue, is Reservoir Park, a charming enclosure occu- 
 pying the site of the famous Crystal Palace, which was 
 destroyed by fire nearly thirty years ago. 
 
 MASONIC TEMPLE, SIXTH AVENUE AND 23D STREET. 
 
 When the darkness settles down over the city, and 
 the lamps flare out along the street, and the broad ray? 
 of light stream brightly into the open air from the 
 stores, restaurants, and saloons, Sixth avenue under- 
 goes a transformation. All day it has been crowded 
 with the best of New York's people, intent upon hon- 
 est business. Now the crowd is almost as great, but 
 it is of a different character. The larger, and better 
 class stores are closed ; only the smaller retail shops. 
 
SIXTH AVENUE STREET WALKERS. 
 
 253 
 
 the drug stores, the saloons, restaurants, and tobacco- 
 nists remain open, but these are numerous enough to 
 give a brilHant coloring to the street with their bright 
 lights and elaborately-decorated windows. The many- 
 colored lights of the stations of the Elevated Railroad 
 lend another attractive feature to the scene, and the 
 whirl and roar of the brilliantly-illuminated trains, as 
 they whiz by overhead, give to the street an air of life 
 and bustle in keeping with the movements of the crowd 
 on the sidewalk below. 
 
 Among the promenaders are scores of young women, 
 flashily dressed, with bold, brazen faces, plentifully cov- 
 ered with rouge and enamel, which show plainly under 
 the bright glare of the gas-lamps. They are simply 
 street-walkers, of the worst class, and are boldly plying 
 their trade in the very faces of the police. They do 
 not conduct themselves here with the outward pro- 
 priety they are forced to assume on Broadway, but are 
 loud-voiced and foul-tongued. They do not hesitate ta 
 accost men, and too often succeed in inducing them to 
 accompany them to one of the dance-houses, or " gar- 
 dens," which abound in the side streets, and in whose 
 pay these women are. Once there, the wretched vic- 
 tim is asked to treat, and begins a course of hard 
 drinking with the girl, who, on her part, manages to 
 drink but little, and this is kept up until he is in fit 
 condition for her to lead him further on into the depths 
 of sin, and perhaps to robber}^ and death. It is but a 
 step from the dance-hall to one of the vile dens, where 
 certain robbery, and perhaps violence, awaits the vic- 
 tim ; and the girl is an old hand at her trade. 
 
 Many of these women are French, and can scarcely 
 
254 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Speak English at all ; yet, strange to say, fchey are 
 among the most successful in the practice of their aban- 
 doned calling. They know enough, however, to say, 
 " You come wiz me, my love " You treat me " I 
 take a leetle beer ;" " Fife dollar," and similar phrases. 
 Some of the women have reputable employments 
 during the day, but these pay them beggarly wages, 
 and they supply their wants by resorting to their hor- 
 rid trade by night. Of late years they have become so 
 numerous on the avenue that decent people, especially 
 iemales, cannot venture on the street unless accom- 
 j)anied by a male protector. Even then they are in 
 r.onstant hearing of vile oaths and foul expressions 
 from the lips of members of their own sex. Should a 
 woman, unaccompanied by a man, attempt to pass 
 along the avenue between 14th and 34th streets, after 
 night, she is almost sure to be insulted by some of the 
 ruffians who parade the street, hang around the bar- 
 rooms, or stand on the corners, and who are hand and 
 glove with the street-walkers. You see them stand in 
 groups around a party of abandoned women on the 
 .sidewalk, exchanging ribald jests with them, and should 
 you pause to listen, you would hear words spoken 
 openly and loudly that would make your ears tingle. 
 
 All along the avenue are saloons of more than doubt- 
 ful character, and oyster-houses in which no decent 
 person ever sets foot. These are favorite resorts with 
 the street-walkers and their companions, and rallying 
 places for the ruffians that lend the girls their protec- 
 tion and live upon the wretched earnings of the 
 women. In these resorts, says a writer in the Police 
 Gazette., vou see the rough, intoxicated elements of 
 
ON THE ROAD TO RUIN. 
 
 255 
 
 Sixth avenue. Girls lounge about in the midst of the 
 smoke ; do not hesitate to sit on the laps of gentlemen, 
 and are always ready for one of the foaming glasses 
 of beer which are pyramidally carried about by the 
 ubiquitous waiters. There are many young men being 
 ruined here. While we look on, an episode occurs 
 that illuminates the whole subject as a flash of lightning 
 does a gloomy wood. 
 
 " At one of the tables has been sitting, with two girls 
 of the town, a handsome boy of about eighteen years. 
 The rose of health is still on his cheek, and, although 
 the gin and water he has been drinking have given his 
 eyes a false lustre, you can easily see that he hasn't 
 gone far on the road. His vital organs are healthy. 
 How about his moral tone ? 
 
 " Directly back of him sits a silent and apparently 
 abstracted individual, who has gone to such depths in 
 a brown study that the glass of beer before him is as 
 yet untasted, although it has been there ten minutes. 
 
 " The youth gives the waiter a twenty-dollar bill, and 
 his companions exchange glances. Just as the proprie- 
 tor thrusts it into the drawer, the detective — for the 
 abstracted man is none other — reaches over the bar, 
 utters a few words, and takes the note and examines 
 it. His suspicions are correct. It is a marked bill, 
 marked that day in the down-town office where the 
 unfortunate boy is employed. It is quite a tableau when 
 the arrest is made. He turns pale as a ghost, and then 
 goes out with an attempt at bravery and carelessness 
 that is pitiable to behold. As for the women, in ten 
 minutes they are drinking more beer, at the expense 
 of some one else. 
 
256 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 " At about two A. M. the avenue is not so crowded 
 as at midnight, but its life is more intense. The old 
 *Argyle Rooms,' 'Cremorne,' and 'Buckingham' have 
 vomited forth their crowds of dancers. They flood the 
 oyster saloons, and fill the beer shops with the rusde 
 of silken skirts. 
 
 " In one beer saloon a negro band is in full blast. 
 When they stop to pass around the hat, a tipsy young 
 woman, bantered to it by her companions, goes to the 
 piano and sings, ' In the Sweet Bye-and-Bye.' It is a 
 strange, "fead scene. She is handsome, but undeniably 
 drunk. Her hair is disheveled. As she sings, being 
 at the maudlin state of drinking, the song overmasters 
 her with its pathos, and she breaks off abruptly and 
 begins to cry. 
 
 "At this the 'lovers,' petty gamblers, and 'strikers* 
 gradually break into a coarse laugh. The poor girl 
 falls, sobbing, with her head on the table, robbed even 
 of the sympathy of her drunken companions, while the 
 'nigger' band squares matters with the audience by 
 giving ' I've Just Been Down to the Club, Dear.' " 
 
 These wretched scenes last until " the wee sma* 
 hours" of the morning. Then there is a brief period 
 of silence and darkness in the avenue, and with the 
 dawning day all signs of sin and vice have disap- 
 peared. Sixth avenue puts on its respectable dress, 
 and until sunset devotes itself to legitimate and reput- 
 able business. The avenue is strongly policed, both 
 day and night, yet the "cops" have neither eyes for 
 the shameful sights nor ears for the vile sounds we 
 have described. The city authorities are perfectly 
 aware of the character of the street, and the business 
 
APATHY OF THE AUTHORITIES. 
 
 257 
 
 of Its promenaders by night, but they make no effort 
 to correct the evil. The ruffians who istand behind the 
 street-walkers as " backers," and who live upon their 
 wretched gains, have political influence, and can com- 
 mand votes. Therefore the municipal authorities stand 
 aloof They are afraid to touch the fearful sore. 
 Their interference might lose votes for their party, and 
 so they permit one of the best and most attractive 
 thoroughfares of the Metropolis to remain the stamp- 
 ing ground" of vice and crime. 
 
 17 
 
258 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 COACHING DAY. 
 
 IMtBMORIESOF BYGONE DAYS— STAGE COACHING IN FORMER YEARS — REVIVAL OF COACHING IN NBW 
 YORK — COLONEL KANE's ENTERPRISE— THE " TALLY HO " — A HANDSOME SUCCESS — SOCIETY 
 ADOPTS COACHING AS THE*' CORRECT THING " — THE COACHING CLUB ORGANIZED — COACHING 
 DAY — THE ANNUAL PARADE — A BRILLIANT SIGHT. 
 
 Many of the readers of these pages will remember 
 the old fashioned stage coach, which, before the advent 
 of the railways, was the sole means of travel between 
 the various parts of the country. It had its disadvan- 
 tages, but its pleasures were also numerous and decided. 
 The time was slow, the company small, and the road 
 often rough and tedious, but the passengers were gen- 
 erally sociable, and on long journeys pleasant acquaint- 
 ances were made and lasting friendships often formed. 
 The very slowness of the ponderous vehicle gave one 
 an opportunity of enjoying to the utmost the beautiful 
 scenery through which the route lay. And the inns at 
 which the coach stopped for meals, what delightful, 
 rambling old structures they were, and what tempting 
 repasts they spread for the hungry passengers, with 
 the hearty old landlord hovering about the table to see 
 that his guests were well supplied and comfortable. 
 Then the traveler was not worried out of his life by the 
 announcement "twenty minutes for refreshments," and 
 did not have to choke down a few mouthfuls of badly 
 cooked eatables, with a certainty of the horrors of dys- 
 pepsia looming up before him ; but instead he had 
 abundant time to do justice to a repast fit for a prince, 
 
REVIVAL OF COACHING. 
 
 259 
 
 nicely and cleanly served, and could resume his place 
 in the coach widi a tranquil mind and a full stomach, 
 and be prepared to enjoy at his ease the ride through 
 the clear, fresh air and the smiling country. Well, 
 they have all passed away, the coaches, the inns, the 
 landlords, and the square meals. The iron horse and 
 the railway restaurant have taken their places. Yet 
 those who have enjoyed the pleasures of the past look 
 back at them regretfully, and wonder, with a sigh, if we 
 are any more comfortable, after all, than we were in 
 those slow, old fashioned days. 
 
 Of late years New York fashionable society has 
 undertaken to revive in some measure the memories 
 of the past, and the result of the effort is seen in the 
 " Coaching Club," whose annual parade is one of the 
 sights of the great city, and an eagerly anticipated and 
 much enjoyed feature of fashionable life. 
 
 The. Coachinof Club owes its existence to Colonel 
 Delancey Kane, a New* York gentleman of wealth.' It 
 has long been the "style" in London for the young 
 gentlemen of the aristocracy to kill a part of the time 
 that hangs so heavily on their hands, by becoming 
 amateur Jehus, and driving four-in-hand coaches from 
 designated points in the city to fixed destinations in the 
 countr)^ They carry passengers and parcels over the 
 route at the regular coach fares, and as a rule manage 
 to reap a neat little sum, as well as to extract a great 
 deal of pleasure from the performance. 
 
 In 1875 Colonel Delancey Kane, being in the British 
 Metropolis, adopted the practice of his ''high-toned" 
 associates, and during the summer of that year drove a 
 coach regularly from London to Windsor Forest. 
 
260 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Returning home, he resolved to introduce the practice 
 into New York, and thus become a benefactor of so- 
 ciety by giving it a new sensation. Accordingly, in 
 the summer of 1876, the "Tally-Ho," the first four-in- 
 hand coach, made its appearance in Fifth avenue, with 
 Colonel Kane, its owner, as driver. It was imported 
 Irom London, and was elegant and luxurious. Promptly 
 at eleven o'clock in the morning the "Tally-Ho'* 
 started from the Hotel Brunswick, at Fifth avenue and 
 Madison Square, and took the route up the avenue to 
 59th street, through the Central Park, thence to Mc- 
 Comb's Dam Bridge, over the Harlem River to the 
 mainland, and from that point to Pelham Bridge, in 
 Westchester Count>^ which was reached promptly at 
 one o'clock. At half past three the return trip began, 
 over the same route, and at five the coach drew up be- 
 fore the Hotel Brunswick. The fare for the round 
 trip was three dollars, with an extra charge of fifty 
 cents each way for a seat on the box. Passengers' 
 luggage, up to eighty-five pounds, was carried free. 
 Parcels were taken at moderate rates, and were deliv- 
 ered with care and punctuality. The fares for inter- 
 mediate distances were at proportionate rates, and the 
 coach took up and set down passengers and parcels 
 at any point except between Madison Square and the 
 Central Park. The route lay through a delightful 
 country, abounding in picturesque scenery, and the 
 drive was highly enjoyable. 
 
 The **Tally-Ho" was a success from the start 
 Fashionable society greeted it heartily as a new^ diver- 
 sion, and patronized it liberally. Every day it was 
 filled with parties of gayly-dressed ladies and gentle- 
 
THE COACHING CLUB. 
 
 261 
 
 men, representing the greatest wealth and the highest 
 society of the city. Drawn by four magnificent brown 
 steeds, the coach rattled along the avenue, through the 
 Park, and over the pleasant country roads, and its oc- 
 cupants, in the highest spirits, found the drive all too 
 short for their pleasure. It became the correct thing 
 to ride on the " Tally-Ho," and its proprietor was liter- 
 ally besieged by applications for places. Seats were 
 engaged weeks in advance, and the season proved not 
 only a brilliant one from a fashionable standpoint, but 
 a very handsome financial success for its projector. 
 
 The success of Colonel Kane encouraged other gen- 
 tlemen of wealth and fashion to attempt the same 
 thing, and soon a number of four-in-hand coaches were 
 to be seen bowling through the streets, the ribbons in 
 the hands of " swells " who had never before known 
 harder labor than treading the mazes of the German, 
 or handling a billiard-cue. Four-in-hand driving be- 
 came quite the rage, and in 1876 the owners of the 
 coaches organized the "Coaching Club," which at pres- 
 ent has a membership of twenty-six, representing 
 twenty-one coaches. 
 
 The club is made up principally of young men of 
 wealth and fashion. No one is eligible for membership 
 unless he is the owner of at least one-fourth of a coach, 
 or " drag," as the vehicle is called. Candidates must- 
 be proposed and seconded by two members of the 
 club, and voted for by sealed ballot. One negative 
 ballot in ten excludes. The club is very careful as to 
 the admission of new members, for Plutus is the ruling 
 divinity here. 
 
 The members of the club are uniformed. The dress 
 
262 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 consists of a dark-green cut-away coat, with brass but- 
 tons, and a yellow, striped waistcoat. Pants are ad 
 libitum, though generally they are like the coat in color, 
 but a high white hat is the " tip of the style." The 
 evening dress is of the same materials and colors, cut 
 like the conventional evening dress. The annual dues 
 are ten dollars, and the ostensible object of the club 
 is to " encourage four-in-hand driving." 
 
 The annual parade of the club is held on the last 
 Saturday in May, and is known in society as " Coach- 
 ing Day." It calls forth a general turnout of the fash- 
 ionables, and the scene along the avenue and at the 
 entrance to the Park is brilliant and interesting. The 
 "meet" is always at the Hotel Brunswick, which is 
 gayly decorated for the occasion. The coaches are 
 drawn up in line, led by the " turn-out" of the president 
 of the club, and the route is up Fifth avenue to 59th 
 street; through the Park to Mount St. Vincent; back 
 to the avenue ; down that street to Washington Square, 
 and then along the avenue again to the Hotel Bruns- 
 wick, where the parade is dismissed. Then follows 
 the annual club dinner at the hotel. The avenue and 
 Park drives are lined with carriages and equestrians, 
 and the windows of the mansions along the route are 
 filled with bright and smiling faces. The fashionable 
 world is out in all its strength, and is reinforced by 
 crowds of dwellers in the less select circles of the city. 
 The throng is so great, that along the entire route the 
 procession is obliged to pursue a slow and stately 
 pace. This enables the richly-dressed ladies who fill 
 the seats of the "drags" to show their millinery to 
 greater advantage. Care is taken by the fair riders 
 
264 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 to make the colors of their dresses harmonize with tha 
 prevailing tints of the coaches, and* each turn-out, as it 
 flashes by, is a study in form, color, and grace of 
 movement. The avenue and the Park drives at such 
 times are musical with the long-drawn notes of the 
 horns of th's outriders of the coaches, and the clear, 
 soft sky of the May afternoon gives a glow to the 
 scene that .greatly heightens its beauty. 
 
 "Truly Coaching Day" is an enjoyable occasion, 
 both to those who take part in the performance and 
 to the lookers-on. Colonel Kane well deserves the 
 thanks society for his efforts, for he has not only 
 given it a new sensation, but a healthful and innocent 
 pleasure. 
 
 During the season the "drags" may be seen daily 
 on the avenue, or in the Park, and at the races they 
 form a prominent feature of the scene. 
 
MADISON AVENUE, 
 
 265 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE STREETS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 |L/M)ISON AVBNUK — MILES OF BROWN STONE — PARK AVENUE — LEXINGTON AVBNTTE — THIRTY- 
 FOURTH AND FIFTY-SEVENTH STREETS — MAGNIFICENT RESIDENCES THIRD AVENUE THK 
 
 GREAT HIGHWAY OF THE EAST SIDE — EIGHTH AVENUE THE SMALL TRADERS* PARADISE — THB 
 SATURDAY NIGHT MARKET — TWENTY-THIRD AND FOURTEENTH STREETS— DISAPPEARANCE OF 
 
 LANDMARKS CHANGES IN THE CHARACTER OF THE STREETS — A GLANCE AT TWENTY-THIRD 
 
 STREET TO-DAY — "THE BEGGARS* PARADISE*' — STREET CHARACTERS — A YOUNG IMPOSTOR — 
 KICKED FROM A HORSE CAR INTO A HOME — BLEECKER STREET — LIFE IN BOHEMIA — A STREET 
 WHERE NO QUESTIONS ARE ASKED — GRAND STREET — CHATHAM STREET — THE CHILDREN OF 
 ISRAEL AND THEIR WAYS — FULTON STREET — NASSAU STREET — A CROWDED NEIGHBORHOOD — ■ 
 PECULIARITIES OF THE STREET — PINE STREET — AMONG THE MONEYED MEN — WEST AN» 
 SOUTH STREETS — ALONG THE WATER SIDE — BUSY SCENES. 
 
 Elsewhere we have described the principal thorough- 
 fares of New York at length. In this chapter we pro- 
 pose to glance briefly at some of the prominent streets 
 of the city, of which the limits of this work do not 
 allow such extended notice. 
 
 The street immediately east of Fifth avenue is Madi- 
 son avenue, the fashionable rival of the former 
 thoroughfare. Begining at 23d street, it extends in an 
 unbroken line to the Harlem River. At the lower end 
 of the avenue, from 23d to 26th streets, is Madison 
 Square, described elsewhere. From 23d to 59th street, 
 a distance of about two miles, Madison avenue is built 
 up as handsomely as Fifth avenue. The dwellings are 
 chiefly of brownstone, and rival the Fifth avenue man- 
 sions in external and internal splendor. Stately 
 churches and splendid club houses break the line of 
 dwellings, and give an air of picturesqueness to the 
 street. There is not so much travel here as on Fifth 
 avenue, and the street, therefore, constitutes a pleas- 
 anter dwelling place than its more famous rival. 
 
266 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Immediately east of Madison avenue is Park avenue. 
 This name is applied to the portion of Fourth avenue 
 lying between 34th and 4.26. streets. It occupies the 
 centre of Murray Hill, and is one of the most ultra 
 fashionable sections of the city. The mansions which 
 line the street are among the handsomest in New 
 York, some of them being especially noted for the 
 beauty of their designs. Park avenue is built over the 
 tunnel by which the line of the Fourth avenue railroad 
 is carried through Murray Hill from 34th to 42d street, 
 and is the widest of all the fashionable thoroughfares. 
 In the centre of the street is a succession of small, 
 handsome, enclosed parks, from which the avenue takes 
 its name, planted with flowers and shrubbery, which 
 give to the street a pleasant and somewhat rural 
 aspect. Each of these individually is a city square in 
 length, and is pierced with a grated aperture, through 
 which light and air are supplied to the tunnel below. A 
 fine roadway runs^on each side of the enclosures, and 
 affords ample room for the travel of the street. The 
 avenue is noted for its exclusiveness. Being so short, 
 and being already occupied, there is no room for new 
 comers. 
 
 Lexington avenue, commencing at 14th street and 
 lying midway between Third and Fourth avenues, is 
 the next street east of Park avenue. It is broken at 
 20th street by Grammercy Park, which extends to 2 1 st 
 street, but above that street the avenue extends in an 
 unbroken line to the Harlem River. From 14th street 
 to Grammercy Park it is known as Irving Place. It is 
 handsomely built, brownstone being the prevailing 
 material. The lower part, around and above Gram- 
 
 « 
 
1^. 
 
THIRD AVENUE. 
 
 267 
 
 mercy Park is occupied by the residences of families 
 of wealth and fashion, but the upper part makes little 
 claim to social distinction. It is a pleasant residence 
 street, and one of the cleanest in the city. 
 
 34th and 57th streets are lined for several squares^ 
 east and west of Fifth avenue, with palatial mansions, 
 and are among the ultra fashionable thoroughfares. 
 Indeed, nearly all the cross streets above 34th, and 
 between Lexington and Sixth avenues, are magnificently 
 built, and are included within the limits of the world of 
 fashion. Many of these streets, within the boundaries 
 named, are built up solidly with splendid mansions 
 which would do credit even to Fifth avenue. 
 
 The Third avenue begins at 9th street, where it joins 
 the Bowery, and runs in a straight line to the Harlem 
 River at 1 30th street. It is six miles in length, and has 
 always been the principal thoroughfare of the east side 
 of the island. It is now traversed by the Elevated 
 Railroad and a line of horse cars, each of which trans- 
 port enormous numbers of passengers daily. It is 
 almost entirely built up from end to end, and is devo- 
 ted to small retail stores, whose aggregate business 
 represents a gigantic traffic. Along its entire length 
 it has not a single building of prominence, and the 
 street has an aspect of sameness and monotony that 
 is not to be found in the west side thoroughfares. But 
 saloons and tenement houses abound, and the upper 
 portions of the houses are occupied by several families, 
 each having but a single floor. Of late years a num- 
 ber of cheap apartment houses have been erected 
 along the upper part of the avenue, and are occupied 
 by families of small means. 
 
268 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The Sixth avenue has been noticed elsewhere. 
 
 The Eighth avenue is to the west side, what the 
 Third is to the east. It commences at Greenwich street 
 and Abingdon Square, and extends to the Harlem 
 River, about six miles distant. Like Third avenue it is 
 devoted to small retail dealers, whose transactions, 
 though insignificant in themselves, make up an enor- 
 mous aggregate. It is the paradise of the Jews, and 
 cheap jewelry and clothing stores abound. It is poorly 
 built, the only building of prominence on the avenue 
 being the Grand Opera House at the corner of 23d 
 street. In many portions of the street the stock in 
 trade of the dealers overflows the stores, and is dis- 
 played in stands along the sidewalk. The street is 
 always crowded, and the sidewalk dealers appear to 
 drive a thriving trade. On Saturday night the avenu^e 
 at 42d street presents a curious sight. Numerous 
 wagons are ranged along the curbstones, and stands 
 are erected along the sidewalk. These stretch out into 
 42d street to the westward, and each is brightly illumi- 
 nated with blazing lights which even a strong wind 
 cannot extinguish. Fruits, oysters, fish, game, provi- 
 sions of all kinds, are sold here by licensed venders, 
 and for this one night of the week a general market is 
 held, which is patronized by vast numbers of the people 
 living near, especially the poorer classes. In the neigh- 
 borhood of 59th street a number of large Apartment 
 Houses" are springing up. From 59th to i loth street 
 Eighth avenue forms the western boundary of the 
 Central Park, and above the park it is sparsely built up, 
 being lined mainly with market gardens. It is traversed 
 along its entire length by a line of horse cars, and 
 
TWENTY-THIRD STREET. 
 
 269 
 
 from about 1 12th street to 155th, at the Harlem River, 
 the middle of the street is occupied by the Metropoli- 
 tan Elevated Railroad. 
 
 Twenty-third and 14th streets are broad, handsome 
 thoroughfares, extending across the island from river 
 to river. Twenty years ago they were the chosen 
 seats of wealth and fashion, and from Broadway west- 
 ward were lined with superb mansions. Now they are 
 busy, bustling marts of trade. The old mansions have 
 disappeared, and in their places stand huge iron, mar- 
 ble, and stone structures, devoted to the various 
 branches of the retail trade. Dry goods, furniture, 
 millinery, sewing-machines, and musical instruments, 
 are the trades chiefly to be found on 14th street. 
 Scarcely a vestige of the old street remains, and those 
 who, twenty years ago, thought it the perfection of a 
 residence street, would fail to recognize it, so thor- 
 oughly has it gone over to trade. 
 
 Twenty-third street retained its private character 
 longer than 14th. In bygone days it was one of the 
 most fashionable promenades of the city. On sunny 
 mornings, nurses with infants in their arms, and chil- 
 dren with hoops, go-carts and toys, monopolized the 
 sidewalks ; elegantly-attired ladies sauntered along ; 
 and splendid equipages stood before the stately man- 
 sions, while their mistresses paid calls within. There 
 was no haste, no bustle. Although so near Broadway, 
 the street was peaceful and quiet. Now the omnibuses 
 and the street cars, and countless wagons, trucks, and 
 peddler's carts make the place a very Babel. 
 
 .Twenty-third street presents quite a bizarre appear- 
 ance, from Broadway to Eighth avenue. Here are 
 
270 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 hotels, express offices, theatres, beer saloons, restau- 
 rants, rum shops, French flats, dry goods stores, 
 stables, churches, undertakers' warehouses, and a large 
 music garden, where concerts are given and beer drank 
 nightly. The high rents of Broadway have done much 
 to bring about this condition of things ; but, more than 
 this, the gradual progress of trade, and the overcrowd- 
 ing of the stores along the line of the surface roads, 
 have effected the changes. Most of all, however, it is 
 due to the establishment of the Elevated Railroads, 
 which bring the two extremities of the city within half 
 an hour's distance of each other, and make 23d street 
 the natural half-way stopping-place for shoppers and 
 sight-seers. 
 
 There are nearly a score of refreshment saloons in 
 Twenty-third street, between Broadway and Eighth 
 avenue, ranging from the pretentious hotel and club 
 house to the simple bar for beer. Billiard rooms and 
 Masonic lodges abound, boot-black stands decorate 
 every corner, and dry goods are exhibited in the 
 modest thread and needle shops as well as in palatial 
 warehouses that cost half a million of dollars. Trot- 
 ting stables and theatres are near neighbors, and some 
 of the finest residences in the city have been turned 
 into flats for milliners, dentists, and barbers. For 
 some reason the theatres in Twenty- third street have 
 always had but a shaky existence. Two of them will 
 live in local history; one as the scene of a monumental 
 dramatic failure, the other as the place where financial 
 giants fought for supremacy in one of the great rail- 
 roads of the world. 
 
 Twenty-third and Fourteenth street constitute the 
 
THE beggars' paradise. 271 
 
 Beggars' Paradise," the former by day and the latter 
 by night. The same cripples, hand-organ men, Italian 
 men and women, and professional boy beggars who 
 infest Twenty-third street by day change their quarters 
 to Fourteenth street, when the darkness settles down 
 
 PLEASE GIVE ME A PENNY. 
 
 over the cit}', and the blaze of the electric lights bursts 
 forth over the latter thoroughfare. 
 
 These beggars constitute an intolerable nuisance, 
 and some of them are characters in their way. It is 
 noticeable that nearly all the professional beggars 
 
272 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 have watchers and guardians near them. One very 
 old man, with a head as bald as a billiard ball, takes 
 his stand every day, hat in hand, near the residence of 
 a prominent city official on Twenty-third street, while 
 he challenges every passer by with the most piteous 
 looks. On the opposite side of the street, and gen- 
 erally in the calm retreat of a church, stands his "pal." 
 If business is good, the two now and then adjourn to 
 a cheap beer saloon in Sixth avenue, and lay out a 
 part of the receipts in drink. Another is a hideous 
 looking fellow with St. Vitus' dance, and a terribly 
 scarred face and mutilated hand. He pays more at- 
 tention to ladies than to men. As one approaches he 
 begins to bow. Fastening his evil eyes upon her, he 
 bows and bows until she has passed. If she gives him 
 a coin, he returns a ghastly grin of gratitude. If she 
 bestows no notice upon him,- the look of entreaty in 
 his face changes to a scowl of positive malignity. This 
 beggar's pal is a female, and the two can be seen fre- 
 quently counting their spoils on Seventh avenue near 
 Twenty-second street. The most systematic beggar 
 of all is a man paralyzed from his waist downward. 
 He sits in a four-wheeled wagon, and is drawn to a 
 fresh station each day. He works the thoroughfare 
 between Fourth and Eighth avenue, on both sides. 
 He is a large, fine looking man, and so successfully 
 imposes an expression of melancholy into his large 
 eyes that the ladies cannot resist the impulse to pity 
 his misfortunes and reward his pertinacity. The 
 creature who wheels the wagon and watches the 
 contributors, is an elderly man with a vicious face. 
 He makes his companion settle up three or four times 
 
A YOUNG beggar's TRICK. 
 
 273 
 
 a day, and is liberal with his oaths if his share does not 
 equal the amount he expected. 
 
 The worst feature is the begging of children. They 
 follow the passers-by with the greatest persistence, 
 urging them to buy hair-pins, shawl-pins, matches, 
 and a dozen other things for which they have no use. 
 There are three well-known workers of the Twenty- 
 third street cars, who are not over ten years old, one 
 of them, in fact, being under seven. They adopt all 
 manner of dodges and tricks and constitute a sore an- 
 noyance to the passengers. One rainy night„a little six 
 year old child leaned against a tree between Sixth and 
 Seventh avenues, and began to cry bitterly. His grief 
 attracted the attention of a kind-hearted lady, who « 
 stopped and asked him what was the matter. His 
 only reply was a fresh burst of tears. A crowd soon 
 gathered, and the little rascal saw his opportunity. 
 Taking from under his arm a package of evening 
 papers, soaked through with the rain, he stated, in a 
 voice choked with sobs, that he must sell these papers 
 or be beaten when he returned home, and now the 
 rain had ruined them, and nobody would buy them. 
 Some generous person in the crowd at once took the 
 papers, gave the lad a quarter, and told him to gc» 
 home in peace. The young beggar was off like a. 
 flash as soon as he received the money, and was 
 immediately joined by a companion who had been 
 waiting for him, and together they proceeded to a 
 cheap oyster house to enjoy a stew, and laugh over 
 the tender-heartedness of the philanthropist who had 
 so easily taken the bait. 
 
 Now and then a case of real distress occurs among 
 
 18 
 
274 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 these professional child beggars, but not often, as the 
 routes are carefully watched and guarded by the old 
 hands, and intruders on "claims" are as summarily 
 dealt with as they are in a western mining camp. One 
 night last winter, when the keen wind whistled around 
 the corner of Fifth avenue and Twenty-third street, a 
 bob-tailed car was jolting along. On the little rear 
 platform, curled up like a rat, was a very small boy, 
 with a visorless cap. He was sound asleep, and the 
 driving sleet was fast stiffening his ragged coat. With 
 a slam and a bang, a well-dressed young snob inside 
 shoved back the sliding door, and as he endeavored to 
 get off, his foot unwittingly struck the drenched waif on 
 the platform. With an oath at the delay, he kicked 
 the sleeping child into the street, where good fortune 
 rolled him beyond the track of the Broadway line, on 
 which a Broome street car was bounding along. Be- 
 fore the lad had rubbed his sleepy eyes, the fine young 
 gentleman was caught by the collar of his fur-lined 
 ulstef, and hauled to the corner where the stalwart 
 policeman, who had seen the outrage, had laid the boy. 
 The little fellow, more frightened by the "cop" than 
 hurt by the fall, glanced around in alarm, and the 
 offender was dismissed with a severe and well merited 
 rebuke from the officer. The policeman eyed the lad 
 quietly for awhile, and then asked what he was doing 
 on the car platform. "I wa'nt doing nuthin," was the 
 reply; "I was only sleepin'." "Why didn't you go 
 home to sleep?" "Ain't got none." "Where do you 
 live?" "Anywheres." "Have you had any supper?" 
 "No." "Any breakfast?" "Plenty." "Where did 
 you get it?" "In the box on Eighth avenue, just 
 
BLEECKER STREET. 
 
 275 
 
 round the corner of Twenty-third street." "What did 
 you eat?" "Tater peeHns and a piece of sausage." 
 "Have you a father or mother?" "Father's dead, 
 and mother's on the Island. They never warn't no 
 good, nohow." "Would you like some dinner?" 
 "No, you don't. You can't catch me, my covey." "I 
 don't wan't to catch you, I want to help you. Would 
 you like some dinner?" "Would I like a dinner? 
 Would I like forty bloody dinners? You just try me." 
 He was given a dinner, and afterwards a bed in 
 the station house. Subsequent inquiry by the police 
 proved the truth of the little fellow's story, and he was 
 kindly cared for, and a home secured for him. He 
 may live to be a useful man, and may yet thank the 
 well dressed ruffian who kicked him from want and 
 beggary into the hands of a kind-hearted policeman. 
 
 Bleecker street is another of the noted thorough- 
 fares of the great city. From the Bowery westward 
 it is lined with rows of comfortable old fashioned 
 dwellings, all of which speak of former glory and pres- 
 ent distress. The street was at one time the chosen 
 seat of the fashion and wealth of the city, and it was 
 then that these stately old houses were built. Until 
 the march of trade drove the fashionable world into 
 Washington Square and Fifth avenue, to be the 
 owner of a Bleecker street mansion was to be at the 
 heighth of fashionable felicity. Now the buildings have 
 been converted into stores, restaurants, and beer 
 saloons, and the street is known as the headquarters 
 of the Bohemian element of the city's population. 
 Struggling artists, musicians, actresses, ballet girls, 
 sewing women, all sorts of people who live by their 
 
276 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 wits, find homes here, and it is a queer looking crowd 
 one meets on the sidewalks. The street cannot be 
 said to be bad or even disreputable, but it is at the 
 best a sort of doubtful neighborhood, which people 
 with reputations to lose avoid. Life here is free from 
 most of the restraints imposed elsewhere, arid so long 
 as the denizens of the neighborhood do not actually 
 violate the law, they may do as they please. It is 
 emphatically a street in which no questions are asked. 
 
 Grand street east of the Bowery is one of the busi- 
 est and liveliest in New York. It is devoted to the 
 cheap dry goods and millinery trades, and does a thriv- 
 ing business. Some of the establishments are large 
 and elegant, but the customers belong chiefly to the^ 
 humbler walks of life. Occasionally a west side lad}' 
 in search of a bargain comes into the street, but such 
 visitors are rare. On Saturday night the street is in 
 its glory. The stores are open until a late hour, and 
 the colored lamps of the stores and blazing torches o^ 
 the sidewalk hucksters' stands give to it the effect of a 
 partial illumination. Shops and sidewalks are all 
 thronged, and the air is alive with the sound of voices. 
 
 Chatham street, extending from Chatham Square to 
 City Hall Square, has long been famous in the local 
 history of New York. It is about a quarter of a mile 
 in length, and narrow and dirty throughout. Near the 
 City Hall Square are several cheap hotels and fair res- 
 taurants, but the remainder of the street is taken up 
 with old clothes stores, cheap clothing stores, pawn- 
 brokers' shops, beer saloons, dance-houses of the low- 
 est description, and establishments of various kinds,. 
 The dealers in the street are nearly all Jews, the 
 
 il 
 
NASSAU STREET. 
 
 277 
 
 sharpest and most unscrupulous of their class, who do 
 not hesitate to swindle their customers before their 
 very eyes, and then call on the police to arrest their 
 victims if they resist. The streets leading to the right 
 and left run off to the Five Points and other similar 
 localities, to which Chatham street is a worthy neigh- 
 bor. Respectable people in New York avoid making 
 purchases here, and the stranger would do well to fol- 
 low their example. A heavy tide of travel passes 
 through this wretched street. Several prominent lines 
 of horse-cars find their way to the City Hall Square 
 and the Post Office through it, and overhead the Third- 
 avenue branch of the Elevated road whirls its crowded 
 trains to and from the terminus opposite the City Hall. 
 
 Fulton street is the great artery through which the 
 enormous stream of travel and traffic between New 
 York and Brooklyn ebbs and flows. From Broadway 
 to the Fulton Ferry, on the East River, it is always 
 crowded with vehicles and pedestrians. It is well 
 built, and contains a number of handsome business 
 structures. 
 
 Nassau street runs parallel w^ith Broadway, immedi^ 
 ately east of it, and extends from Wall street to Priat- 
 ing-House Square. It is one of the narrowest streets 
 in the cit}', and is built up with lofty houses, which shut 
 out the sunlight and give it a dark and gloomy appear- 
 ance. The roadway is so narrow that two vehicles 
 can scarcely pass each other, and the sidewalks afford 
 such little room, that half the passers through the 
 street are obliged to take to the roadway. The south- 
 ern end of the street is taken up with handsome bank 
 and insurance buildings, generally of marble. The 
 
278 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 northern part contains numbers of old book stores, and 
 is a favorite locality with the stationery trade. Real 
 estate men and diamond merchants like the street, and 
 dealers in watches and jewelry also have their head- 
 quarters here, generally in the second stories of the 
 houses. Each house appears to contain a little world 
 within its four walls. The front, the stairways, and the 
 walls of the vestibules are covered with scores of signs, 
 setting forth the nature of the various pursuits carried 
 on within. Enter one of these "offices," and you will 
 find it a mere closet. Yet enormous rents are paid for 
 them, and their occupants remain in them as long as 
 possible, or until a fortunate change in their business 
 sends them to better-arranged quarters. It has been 
 said that Nassau street is a good place to hide in, and 
 it would seem that in the thousand and one " estab- 
 lishments " with which the tall buildings on the street 
 are filled, one might very easily slip out of observation 
 and be forgotten. You wonder, indeed, how persons 
 having business with the occupants of these dens ever 
 find them. This characteristic of the street renders it 
 a favorite place with persons who carry on unlawful 
 trades, and do business by means of circulars, and un- 
 der assumed names. 
 
 Pine street extends from Broadway eastward, imme- 
 diately north of Wall street. It is a narrow thorough- 
 fare, but between Nassau street and Broadway is lined 
 with noble structures occupied by banks and corporate 
 institutions. These buildings are so tall that the street 
 is always in shadow. At the head of the street, in 
 Trinity churchyard, rises the Martyr's monument. 
 
 Two of the busiest and most crowded streets in the 
 
NEW YORK. 
 
 city are South and West streets, the former running 
 along the East River, and the latter along the Hudson 
 or North River. The great Brooklyn ferries have 
 their landings on the former street, while on West 
 street are the ferries which connect New York with the 
 shores of New Jersey. Both are thronged throughout 
 the day with a constant stream of heavily laden 
 wagons and trucks. Along the East River front are 
 long lines of sailing craft, from the huge Indiaman 
 down to the little coasting sloop, and in the various 
 slips which break the line of South street the barges 
 which are brought down the Hudson from the Erie 
 Canal have their headquarters. On West street are 
 the piers of the various railway lines terminating in 
 Jersey City and Hoboken, and here also are the 
 wharves of the great European steamship lines. Each 
 street has its peculiar characteristics, but both are alike 
 in the dirt and filth with which they are covered, the 
 roar and crash of vehicles, and the difficulties which 
 beset the pedestrian in his efforts to struggle across 
 them from the sidewalk to the ferries. 
 
PATENT DIVORCES. 
 
 281 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 DIVORCES WITHOUT PUBLICITY. 
 
 QUEER ADVERTISEMENTS — THE "DIVORCE RING" — ITS FIELD OF OPERATIONS — ^THB DrYOHCB 
 LAWYER — WHO HE IS — HEADQUARTERS OF THE MEMBERS OF TKB RING — 3CKNE LN A LAW- 
 YER'S OFFICE — A RICH CLIENT — " OKF WITH THE OLD LOVE AND OK WITH THE Nliw" — A 
 CHARACTERISTIC CASE — "THE EASIEST THING IN TH E WORLE* TO GET A DIVOKCe" — WEST- 
 ERN DIVORCES — HOW A MERCHANT MADE A MISTRESS OF HIS WIFE — WHO ARE TU£ CLIENTS 
 
 —COST OF A DIVORCE — HOW IT IS MANAGED — THE REFEREB SYSTEM — SPOTTING A HUSUAND 
 
 MANUFACTURING EVIDENCE — THE '/ OLD MAN " ENTRAPPED PROFESSIONAL WITNESSES 
 
 THE DIVORCE lawyer's SYSTEM OF DRUMMING* UP BUSINESS — DIRTY~WORK FOR TEN PER 
 
 CENT— SERVING A SUMMONS— A MOCKERY OF JUSTICE— POWER OF THE RING THE COURTS 
 
 AND BAR AFRAID TO BREAK IT UP. 
 
 A leading New York daily, of a recent date, contains 
 the following advertisements : — 
 
 DIVORCES without publicity in 30 days ; all causes ; every State ; consulta. 
 tion free ; experienced lawyer ; success guaranteed. 
 
 Smith, Brown & Co., 86 — Street. 
 
 "PvIVORCES cheaply, without publicity; desertion, incompatibility, non-sup- 
 Jl/ port, intemperance, compulsory marriages; parties any State ; explanatory 
 blanks free ; always successful; consultations free; confidential. 
 
 Lawyer Smoothtongue, 105 — Street. 
 
 Similar advertisements are to be found in other 
 journals, especially in those of "sporting" proclivities. 
 They announce to the public that there is in New York 
 a powerful and regularly organized " Ring," whose 
 business it is to untie the marriage-knot, and they 
 guarantee to do it with the ease and celerity with which 
 it is tied. This would seem strange in a State where 
 the laws regulating divorces are so rigid ; but the di- 
 vorce lawyer knows how to set even these at defiance, 
 and that his efforts are successful, is shown by the 
 handsome income he enjoys and the elegant style in 
 which he lives. He does not rely upon New York 
 
282 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 alone for his field of operations ; other States are more 
 liberal in this matter, and if the separation of husband 
 and wife cannot be procured in the Empire State, he 
 can easily accomplish it in some other part of the 
 Union. 
 
 The divorce lawyer devotes himself to this branch 
 of his profession exclusively. He is sometimes an ex- 
 member of the Bar, who has been disbarred for dis- 
 honest practices, and cannot appear directly in the 
 case himself. He hires some shyster lawyer to go 
 through the formalities of the courts for him, and some- 
 times succeeds in inducing a barrister of good stand<- 
 ing to act for him. His office is usually in the quarter 
 most frequented by practitioners of standing, and is 
 located in some large building with long halls, so that 
 his clients may come and go without attracting special 
 notice. The outer office is fitted up in regular legal 
 style, with substantial desks and tables, and the walls are 
 lined with cases of law books. The private consulta- 
 tion room is elegantly furnished, and is provided with 
 the coziest arm-chairs, in which the clients can sit at 
 their ease, and pour into the sympathizing ears of the 
 "counsellor" their tales of woe. 
 
 Let us seat ourselves, unseen, in the private office 
 of a leading divorce firm. They are located at the 
 rear of a superb building on Broadway, and have ele- 
 gantly fitted-up apartments. Counsellor , the 
 
 head of the firm, conducts the consultations. He is a 
 portly, smooth-faced, oily-tongued man, possessing 
 great powers of cheek and plausiveness, just the man 
 to lead a hesitating client to take the decisive step. A 
 clerk from the outer office announces a visitor. A 
 
THE LAWYER AND HIS CLIENT. 
 
 283 
 
 richly dressed, closely veiled lady is shown in, and the 
 pordy counsellor, rising courteously, places a chair for 
 her. The seat is taken, the veil thrown back, and the 
 counsellor finds himself face to face with a woman of 
 beauty and refinement, and evidently of wealth — a, 
 most desirable client. In his blandest tones he invites 
 her to state the nature of her business with him. 
 Then follows a long tale of domestic unhappiness, the 
 sum and substance of which is that she is tired of her 
 husband, and wants a divorce from him. 
 
 ''Upon what grounds, Madame?" asks the coun- 
 sellor, settling down to business. 
 
 "Grounds?" is the startled, hesitating reply; "Why 
 - — I — that is — I am so unhappy with him." 
 
 "Is he unfaithful to you?" 
 
 *T do not know. I hope he is — I am afraid not, how- 
 ever. I thought you would ascertain for me." 
 
 " Certainly, Madame, certainly. Nothing easier in 
 the world. We'll find out all about him. ^ We'll learn 
 the innermost secrets of his heart, and I've no doubt 
 we shall find him grossly unfaithful. Most men are." 
 
 "Oh, not all, sir," the lady cries, a litde startled, "I'm 
 sure that " 
 
 Good sense comes to her aid, and she pauses. She 
 must not tell all, even to her "legal adviser." The 
 counsellor smiles ; he has seen such cases before. It 
 is only an affair of exchanging an old love for a new. 
 
 "Has he ever maltreated you — struck you ?" he asksc 
 
 "Oh no." 
 
 "Never attempted any violence with you?" 
 "He once seized a paper weight on the library tabic, 
 Very much excited, while I was talking with him." 
 
284 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 "Indeed! He tried to dash your brains out with a 
 paper weight, did he? That is very important evidence, 
 Madame, very important." 
 
 And the counsellor jots it down on a memorandum, 
 
 "But, sir, I did not say that he — 
 
 " Oh, never mind, Madame. Wives are too ready to 
 forgive their husbands' brutality. The fact remains 
 the same, however. This infamous attempt upon your 
 life will be sufficient evidence with the Western judge 
 before whom the case will be tried. I congratulate 
 you, Madame, upon the prospect of a speedy release 
 from such a monster." 
 
 The lady is delighted, pays the retainer, which is a 
 handsome one, agrees upon the amount to be paid 
 when the divorce is granted, and the parties separate^ 
 mutually pleased with each other. 
 
 The counsellor new goes to work in earnest. 
 Operations are carried on in some Western State. 
 Witnesses are provided who will swear to ajiything 
 they are paid for;^ the divorce is duly obtained; the fee 
 is paid; and the Madame coolly informs her husband 
 that they are no longer husband and wife. 
 
 A year or two ago the New York papers contained 
 an account of a man who had gotten one of these 
 patent divorces from his wife. Not caring to part 
 from her just then, but wishing to be able to do so 
 when he pleased, he locked the papers up in his desk, 
 and said nothing to her about the matter, and for 
 ten years she lived with him as his mistress, in total 
 ignorance of her true relations to him. At last, be- 
 coming tired of her, he produced the decree of divorce^ 
 and left her. 
 
COST OF A PATENT DIVORCE. 
 
 285 
 
 All sorts of people seek the assistance of the divorce 
 lawyers to free them from their matrimonial ties. Ex- 
 travagant and reckless wives of men who are not able 
 to meet their demands for money; dissolute actresses, 
 who wish to break up an old alliance in order to form 
 a new one; married women, who have become in- 
 fatuated with some scamp they have met at a theatre 
 matinee, or through the medium of a personal ; married 
 men who are tired of their wives and desire to be 
 united to a new partner; lovers of married women, 
 who come to engage fabricated testimony and surrep- 
 titious divorce for the frail creatures whose virtue is 
 still too cowardly to dare the more honest sin ; all who, 
 with or without protest, seek a release from the mar- 
 riage bond. For each and all the divorce lawyer has a 
 ready ear and an encouraging word. Nothing is 
 easier than to obtain a divorce, he assures them. If 
 the cause assigned by them is insufficient, it can be 
 made strong enough; if evidence is lacking, it can be 
 obtained — manufactured, if necessary. He receives 
 a retainer from each and all, and sends jthem away 
 with the happy consciousness that their matrimonial 
 troubles will soon be over. 
 
 A divorce costs anywhere from $25 to whatever 
 sum the applicant is willing to pay for it, and can be 
 obtained in New York, or any other State, according 
 to the wishes of the party and the desire to avoid pub- 
 licity. Any cause may be assigned ; the lawyer guar- 
 antees that the evidence to support it shall be forth- 
 coming at the proper time. It is a little more trouble- 
 some to obtain a New York divorce, but the machinery 
 of the law is sufficiently loose even there to enable a 
 
286 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 well-managed case to be successful. The divorce 
 lawyer has witnesses upon whom he can depend, for 
 they are regularly in his pay. They will swear as they 
 are instructed. The proceedings are private, the 
 courts turning the whole matter over to a referee, who 
 is frequently in collusion with the lawyer conducting 
 the case. Not a word about the affair is allowed to 
 get into the newspapers. The defendant has been 
 kept in ignorance of the proceedings, and naturally 
 does not appear in court, in person or by counsel, to 
 offer any opposition, and the case goes by default. 
 The referee hears the evidence, which has been care- 
 fully prepared, in the case ; submits a decision in favor 
 of the plaintiff ; the court confirms the decision ; the 
 divorce is granted, and the first thing the defendant 
 knows of the whole affair is the triumphant proclama- 
 tion of the decree of the court, and the announcement 
 of the dissolution of the marriage. 
 
 Adultery is a favorite ground with the divorce law- 
 yer, and, strange as it may appear, it is comparatively 
 easy to fasten such a charge upon the defendant, if that 
 person happens to be the husband. This is how it is 
 done: One of the "agents" of the firm makes the ac- 
 quaintance of the husband, who is in total ignorance 
 of the plot against him, and after becoming somewhat 
 familiar with him, invites him to a quiet little supper at 
 some convenient restaurant. When the wine has done 
 its work, a party of ladies drop in, quite by accident, 
 of course, and are pressed by the agent to remain. 
 The innocent victim joins in the request ; he would be 
 an ill-bred fellow if he did not. A dead set is made at 
 the victim, whose wits are genera-lly somewhat confused 
 
MANUFACTURING EVIDENCE. 
 
 287 
 
 with the wino he has drank, and the natural conse- 
 quences follow. The agent coolly looks on, and takes 
 his notes, and the particular beauty who has won over 
 the victim to her charms becomes an important witness 
 in the case. There is no difficulty in proving the 
 charge. 
 
 Where the husband is a jolly, good-natured man, 
 and loves to take his pleasure, the agent's business is 
 greatly simplified. He has but to shadow his victim, 
 note down his acts, even his words, for the most inno- 
 cent deed can be distorted by a shrewd divorce lawyer 
 into damaging evidence of guilt. The least imprudence 
 is magnified into sin, and little by little all the needed 
 evidence is obtained. 
 
 Sometimes all these arts fail. Then the lawyer has 
 but one resource, to employ paid witnesses to swear 
 to the husband's guilt, where no overt act has been 
 committed. The divorce must be obtained at any cost ; 
 and the lawyer knows "no such word as fail." 
 
 Sometimes business becomes dull. People appear 
 to be satisfied with their partners, and applications for 
 patenii divorces fall off. The divorce lawyer is equal 
 to the emergency, however, and sets his agents to work 
 to drum up business. They proceed upon a regular 
 system, and seek high game. They operate among 
 persons able to pay large fees, and seek women as 
 their victims in preference to men. A member of the 
 Metropolitan bar, conversing with a friend not long 
 since, thus explained the system pursued : — 
 
 "You understand, of course, that society is not 
 happy in all its honors. All the brownstone houses 
 have to have new closets put in every year in order to 
 
288 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 accommodate the skeletons. Still, many a woman and 
 man, if let alone, would bear his or her connubial bur- 
 dens meekly, rather than face the scandal and publicity 
 of a divorce trial. Our special divorce lawyers know 
 this, and so they invade society. They transfer the 
 base of operations to the drawing rooms. How ? By 
 using swell members of the fashionable world to first 
 find out where there is a canker in the rose, and then to 
 deftly set forth in a perfect Mephistophilian way how 
 divorce is the only cure. Nine-tenths of this delicate 
 diplomatic business is employed in persuading hesita- 
 ting wives. Husbands could hardly be approached in 
 their own homes with a proposition to break them up. 
 Take an impressionable woman, already unhappy, who 
 has once been thinking of divorce, and the case is differ- 
 ent. She is clay for the moulder. The serpent whis- 
 pers of how nice it will be to bank her alimony, tells 
 her lies about the old man, induces her to believe that 
 the firm down town will put in no bill if they don't 
 succeed, and so the affair is arranged." 
 
 For this despicable service the agent receives ten 
 per cent, of the fee paid the divorce lawyer by the 
 wife, which fee, be it remembered, comes out of the 
 husband's pocket. 
 
 Oftentimes the agent is called upon to personate the 
 husband, especially in serving the summons of the 
 court upon him, if the case is to be tried in New York. 
 The lawyer in charge has the case quietly put on 
 record in the proper court, and has a summons pre- 
 pared for service upon the defendant. A boy is called 
 in from the street, anybody will answer, and is paid a 
 iiifle to take the summons to the defendant's place of 
 
THE DIVORCE RING. 
 
 289 
 
 business or residence, and deliver it to him in person. 
 Arrived at his destination, the boy is met by the agent 
 of the divorce lawyer, at the door or on the steps. 
 The agent sharply demands his business, and is 
 answered by the boy that his washes to deliver a paper 
 
 to Mr. X . "I am Mr. X replies the agent, 
 
 sharply, "give me the paper." The boy, in perfect 
 
 good faith, for he has never seen Mr. X in his 
 
 life, delivers the summons to the agent, and goes back 
 to the lawyer's office, where he signs an affidavit that 
 he has served the summons upon the defendant in 
 person. He is then dismissed, and plays no further 
 part in the case. His affidavit is sufficient for this 
 part of the proceedings, and the shameful mockery of 
 justice proceeds to another stage. 
 
 This is no exaggerated description. The acts of 
 these divorce lawyers are well known in New York, 
 and every member of the bar is familiar with their 
 mode of proceeding. Reputable barristers denounce 
 them as a disgrace, not only to the profession, but to 
 humanity. The judges on the bench know these men 
 and their ways. Yet neither the bench nor the Bar 
 Association make any effort to stop the evil or to dis- 
 bar the wretches who thus prey upon the most sacred 
 relations of life. The "Divorce Ring" is a powerful 
 clique, intimately connected with and very useful to 
 the whole referee system, and lawyers of standing are 
 afraid to attempt to bring it to justice, lest they should 
 draw upon themselves the vengeance of the "Referee 
 Ring," and so injure their own professional prospects.- 
 So the evil continues to grow. It will flourish as long 
 as there are foolish people to take advantage of it. 
 
 19 
 
290 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK. 
 
 ►reparations ^OR CHRISTMAS— HOLIDAY APPEARANCE OF THE CITY— STREET SCENES — BUSINESS 
 
 BOOMING SCENES IN THE CITY BY NIGHT A NOVEL SIGHT ON THE ELEVATED RAILROAD 
 
 TRAINS BUSY TIMES IN THE MARKETS THE TURKEYS — TRINITY CHIMES MLDNIGHT SER- 
 
 VICES — CHRISTMAS DAY — HOW IT IS OBSERVED IN NEW YORK — CHRISTMAS WITH THE POOR. 
 
 New York attests its Dutch and English descent by 
 the heartiness with which it " keeps Christmas." For 
 weeks before the great day of the Feast the city is in 
 gala attire. The stores present a brighter and more 
 attractive appearance than at any other season of the 
 year, the streets are filled with larger throngs, and the 
 stages, street cars, and trains of the Elevated roads are 
 more crowded than ever. Every family in the great 
 Babel is looking iorward with eagerness to the period 
 when happiness shall rule the hour, and dull care be 
 banished from the household. The little folks are in 
 their glory, for it is their season, par excellence. They 
 look forward eagerly to the "day of days;" wonder 
 what presents the good Saint Nicholas — for by what- 
 ever other name the tutelary saint of Christmas be 
 called elsewhere, this is his true title in the Aletropolis 
 — will bring them ; and scan with longing eyes the 
 impenetrable wrappers of the parcels that daily find > 
 their way to their homes, and are put with haste under 
 lock and key. As the festival draws nearer, the bustle 
 and excitement increase throughout the city, and when 
 Christmas Eve is reached New York is fairly crazed 
 with enthusiasm. 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 291 
 
 The city presents an interesting appearance on the 
 day before Christmas. The air is keen and crisp, and 
 if the streets and the house tops arc covered with a 
 mantle of snow, so much the better, for to the lover of 
 Christmas the season should always be a snowy one. 
 The streets and stores are now packed to their utmost 
 capacity. It is the money spending time of the year, 
 and those who are out mean business. No matter if 
 the weather is cold, and the thoroughfares are slushy, 
 no matter if the wind whirls in fitful gusts along the 
 streets, chilling the hands and noses of the pas^sers 
 by. Warm hearts beat under the warm clothing of the 
 holiday makers. Broadway, from Bleecker street to 
 Thirty-fourth, Sixth, Eighth, and Third avenues almost 
 along their entire length, 23d, 14th, and Grand streets, 
 and the Bowery are all driving a thriving trade. The 
 display in the stores is something wonderful, and the 
 proprietors are in high good humor at the rapid disap- 
 pearance- of their wares. The streets are filled with 
 booths and stands at which a busy trade is going on. 
 Articles which find no sale at other seasons of the year 
 are now disposed of rapidly and at satisfactoiy prices. 
 Men and women jostle each other on the sidewalks, and 
 it is difficult in some places to force one's way through 
 the throng. Huge piles of Christmas trees stand on 
 the corners, and find ready purchasers, and wagons 
 . loaded with trees and evergreen decorations, wreaths, 
 stars, festoons, and the like, pass along the up-town 
 streets, disposing of their wares from house to house. 
 Thousands of dollars change hands every minute. 
 The clerks in the stores are as busy as bees, and extra 
 help has to be engaged. It is marvelous to see how 
 
292 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 rapidly and with what promptness purchases are deliv- 
 ered at the houses of the buyers. Many, however, do 
 not trust to these deliveries, but take their purchases 
 with them, and all day the streets are filled with men 
 and women literally loaded down with parcels. 
 
 At night Broadway, 14th street and Fifth avenue 
 are ablaze with the electric light. The stores are all 
 open and thronged with buyers. The crowds in the 
 streets are even greater, for those who were at work 
 during the day are now out, busy with their purchases. 
 Men, women and children, loaded with merchandise, 
 struggle . along the packed sidewalks, and the roar of 
 passing vehicles is as great as at any hour of the day. 
 Here is a woman with a bundle of toys in her arms, 
 surmounted by a huge turkey for the Christmas din- 
 ner. There goes a man struggling under the weight 
 of a Christmas tree, and sweeping his way through the 
 mass with its thick, sharp branches. Boys with penny 
 whistles, young men with tin horns, render the streets 
 discordant with their noise ; half-dressed children of 
 both sexes stand on the sidewalks watching the throng, 
 or gaze into the brightly-lighted shop-windows with 
 wistful eyes, and wonder what Christmas has in store 
 for them. They will not be forgotten on the morrow. 
 New York opens its great heart and its big pocket- 
 book at this blessed time, and to-morrow huge tables 
 will groan with good things, and tall Christmas trees 
 stagger under the weight of toys and trinkets, for the 
 children of the poor. Lights gleam from every house 
 in the great city, and could you enter, you would find 
 in each and all nearly the same scene going on — the 
 elder members of the family dressing the Christmas 
 
CHRISTMAS EVE. 
 
 293 
 
 tree, and loading it with the toys and trinkets that are 
 to gladden the eyes of the young folks when they wake 
 on the morrow, and decorating the rooms with wreaths 
 and festoons of green, amid which the bright holly ber- 
 ries shine out in their crimson beauty. Something of 
 this may be seen from the cars of the Elevated roads, 
 as you whirl by the second-story windows of the houses 
 along the route. 
 
 These Elevated trains present a curious spectacle 
 on Christmas Eve. At every station there are long 
 lines of people going up and down the narrow stair- 
 ways, laden with all manner of Christmas treasures. 
 The stations themselves have the appearance of booths 
 where toys of all kinds are disposed for sale. In the 
 cars it is almost impossible to move, because of the 
 great bundles of merchandise. You stumble over 
 huge turkeys and market-baskets filled to overflowing 
 with all manner of eatables, and at every step are 
 warned by some anxious passenger to be careful not 
 to step on his bundles. Throughout the day, and late 
 into the night, each passing train presents the appear- 
 ance of being a combination of a toy store and a Wash- 
 ington Market stall. 
 
 As for the markets, they seem the very incarnation 
 of Christmas. They are thronged to overflowing, and 
 the dealers can scarcely supply the demand upon them. 
 The scene, especially at night, almost baffles descrip- 
 tion. Long rows of turkeys hang from the hooks of 
 the stalls, and are arranged on counters and stands 
 which usually groan beneath the weight of butchers' 
 meats and sugar-cured hams. Wreaths and festoons 
 of evergreens, mingled with holly-berries, decorate 
 
294 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 every stall, and the great sheds are aglow with hun- 
 dreds of lamps of every description. Moving in all 
 directions are people with huge market-baskets, filled 
 with every luxury which can tempt the appetite, and 
 the vast, surging, eager crowd acts as though there 
 was but one hour in which to buy all that is necessary 
 for the crowning festival of the year. Towards eleven 
 o'clock business begins to slacken, the crowds of pur- 
 chasers fall off, and soon the stalls are closed, the lights 
 go out, and the dealers prepare to go home. The city 
 becomes quieter, and by midnight the Christmas pur- 
 chases are over, and New York prepares for a little 
 rest. Yet not long does the- silence continue. 
 
 When the bell of old Trinity tolls the last stroke of 
 the hour of midnight, there is a momentary hush in the 
 streets, and then rolling down from their lofty height, 
 through the dark thoroughfares and over the silent 
 waters of the bay, come the rich, glad tones of the 
 chimes, filling the air with a burst of melody. " Christ- 
 mas has come," they seem to say. "Awake and re- 
 joice, ye dwellers in the great city. Banish your cares 
 and lift up your hearts. For one day let sin and sor- 
 row cease. 'Glad tidings of great joy' await you. 
 Christmas has come: Christ is born." Lights gleam 
 in the grand old church below, and soon the full, rich 
 tones of the organ and the sweet voices of the choris- 
 ters swell out on the midnight air. 
 
 Midnight services are held in many of the Episcopal 
 and all of the Catholic churches of the city, and are 
 -well attended. 
 
 On Christmas day the city is full of gayety, its ob- 
 servance being very much the san^e as in other places. 
 
CHRISTMAS DINNERS. 
 
 295 
 
 Morning services are held at the churches of many of 
 the denominations, and large congregations are in 
 attendance. In the afternoon the Sunday schools 
 generally distribute presents to their attendants, from 
 huge Christmas trees. 
 
 The Christmas dinner is the great event of the day, 
 and at such repasts the turkey always occupies the 
 post of honor. Nor are these feasts confined to the 
 family board alone. The numerous charitable and 
 benevolent institutions spread bountiful tables for their 
 inmates. The children of the poor, washed clean and 
 neatly dressed, are gathered in from all quarters, at 
 certain establishments, and are given the only hearty 
 and enjoyable meal of the year. At many of these 
 places Christmas trees are provided, and the hearts of 
 the little ones are gladdened with toys, trinkets, and 
 other presents suited to their needs and years. Even 
 the prisoners in the Tombs and on Blackwell's Island 
 are not forgotten, and the Christmas dinner spread for 
 them sheds a little of light and hope into their other^ 
 wise gloomy existence. The charitable institutions are 
 busy receiving and distributing clothing, food and other 
 articles sent to them. New York gives bountifully at 
 this season ; even those whose pocket-books are tightly 
 clasped at other times, open them now, and distribute 
 their bounty with generous hands. 
 
 All the theatres give special performances, termed 
 " Matinees," in the afternoon. The houses are thronged^ 
 and the managers pocket large receipts. At night, 
 balls, festivals and entertainments of all kinds, close 
 the day. 
 
296 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 » 
 
 PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 
 
 TH« cm HALL— THE GOVERNOR'S ROOM— THE COUNTY COURT HOUSB— REMINISCKNCRS OF THrf 
 "tweed ring" — THE HALL OF RECORDS — THE UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY — THE GREAT 
 VAULTS — HOW UNCLE SAm's MONEY IS GUARDED — THE ASSAY OFFICE — THE CUSTOM HOUSE — 
 A NOBLE EDIFICE — THE BUSINESS OF THE PORT OF NEW YORK — DUTIES OF OFFICIALS — TMB 
 BARGE OFFICE — PASSING THROUGH THE CUSTOM HOUSE — CUSTOM HOUSE BROKERS — TAM- 
 MANY HALL — THE TAMMANY SOCIETY — POLITICAL ORGANIZATION — "BOSS KELLY " — THB 
 COOPER UNION — WORK OF THE INSTITUTI9N — THE BIBLE HOUSE — A GREAT WORK DONE — THB 
 NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN — HOW THE SCHOOLS ARE CONDUCTED ANNUAL EXHIBI- 
 TIONS — THE YOUNG MEN's CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION BUILDING THE rf,ECTURB ROOM — A 
 
 itEFUGE FOR YOUNG MEN — THE GRAND CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPOT — INTERNAL ARRANOB- 
 MBNTS — THE CAR HOUSE — THE FOURTH AVENUE TUNNELS. 
 
 Apart from the great public edifices mentioned 
 separately in these pages, there are many which de- 
 serve special notice. Of the principal of these we 
 propose to speak in this chapter. 
 
 The most prominent of the public buildings is the 
 G'^ I/a//y the headquarters of the Municipal Govern- 
 ment of New York. It stands in the City Hall Park, 
 in the rear of the Post Office, from which it is sepa- 
 rated by a wide, open space, and between that 
 building and the County Court House. The front 
 and sides are of white marble, and the rear of brown 
 sandstone. It is built in the Italian style, and was 
 begun in 1803 and completed in 181 2, at a cost of 
 more than half a million of dollars. It is 216 feet 
 long and 105 feet deep, and is surmounted by a cupola 
 containing a clock with four faces, which are illuminated 
 by gas at night. On the summit of the cupola stands 
 a statue of Justice. The building contains the Mayor's 
 office, the Common Council Chamber, the City Library, 
 
THE COUNTY COURT HOUSE. 
 
 297 
 
 and a number of the City offices. Some of its rooms 
 are handsome, and are elegantly decorated. The 
 principal chamber is called ''The Governor's Room," 
 and is used chiefly for official receptions. It is located 
 on the second floor, and contains the portraits of a 
 number of the Governors of New York, Mayors of 
 the City, prominent officers of the army of the Revo- 
 lution, and many other distinguished persons. These 
 portraits are nearly all by celebrated artists. Here 
 also are the chairs used by the First Congress of the 
 United States, the chair in which Washington sat at 
 his first inauguration as President of the Republic, and 
 that in which he penned his first message to Congress. 
 
 The County Court House stands in the rear of the 
 City Hall, and fronts on Chambers street. It was 
 begun in 1861, and since 1867 has been occupied by 
 the State Courts and several of the City Departments, 
 though still uncompleted. When finished it will be 
 one of the finest edifices in the Union. It is built in 
 the Corinthian style of architecture, is three stories 
 high, 250 feet long by 150 wide, and is constructed of 
 white marble from Massachusetts. The dome,, when 
 completed, will be 210 feet above the sidewalk. "One 
 of the most novel features of the dome will be the 
 arrangement of the tower crowning its apex, into a 
 lighthouse, which, from its extreme power and height, 
 it is supposed, will furnish guidance to vessels as far 
 out at sea as that afforded by any beacon on the 
 neighboring coast." The building has already cost 
 many millions of dollars. It was the chief means used 
 by the Tweed Ring in carrying out their stupendous 
 frauds upon the city. The better part of the money 
 
298 NEW YORK. 
 
 appropriated for its construction went into the pockets 
 of the Ring. 
 
 At the northeast corner of the City Hall Park, and a 
 few yards from the City Hall, stands a stone building- 
 covered with stucco. It was erected in 1757, as a city 
 prison. It is known as the Hall of Records, and is 
 occupied by the Registrar and his clerks. 
 
 The United States Sub-Treasury stands at the north- 
 east corner of Wall and Nassau streets, and on the 
 site of old Federal Hall, in which Washington was 
 inaugurated first President of the United States. It 
 faces Broad street, and extends back to Pine street. It 
 is built of white marble, in the Doric style of architec- 
 ture, and its fronts on Wall and Pine streets are adorned 
 with noble porticoes, each supported by eight marble 
 columns 32 feet high. The Wall street portico is 
 approached by a massive flight of eighteen marble steps, 
 extending the entire width of the building. As the 
 grade on Pine street is higher than that of Wall street, 
 the portico on that side is without steps. The main 
 entrances lead into a rotunda sixt}^feet in diameter. The 
 dome is very handsome, and is supported by sixteen 
 Corinthian columns. The desks of the officials in charge 
 of the various departments of the Sub-Treasury are 
 arranged around the sides of the rotunda, and are sepa- 
 rated from the public portion by a handsome counter 
 provided Avith a glass screen similar to those used in 
 banks. The rotunda always presents a busy scene, as 
 the business of the Sub-Treasur>^ is very great. Beneath 
 the rotunda is an extensive basement arranged in a 
 series of vaults, in which are kept the coins, notes and 
 bonds belonging to the general government. The 
 
GUARDING THE TREASURY VAULTS. 
 
 299 
 
 amount on deposit here is always enormous, and every 
 precaution is taken to ensure its safety. During the 
 past year the vaults have been considerably enlarged, 
 to accommodate the vast amount of bullion sent here 
 for storage, and the great bags of coined money, and 
 
 UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY. 
 
 new doors have been provided, with an intricate net- 
 work of horizontal and perpendicular bars, operated by 
 time locks of the most ingenious construction. 
 
 There have been many occasions when alarm has 
 been felt lest an attack might be attempted upon the 
 
300 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 building by a mob. This apprehension is now over- 
 come by the practical conversion of the building into 
 a formidable fortress. Every window has been provi- 
 ded with heavy steel shutters, and these have been so 
 perforated as to admit of very accurate firing by the 
 defenders within, in case the building should be attacked 
 by a body of rioters. Upon the roof strong steel tur- 
 rets have been erected, fitted with loopholes for rifle 
 firing, and larger ones for the destructive work of im- 
 proved Gatling guns. There are four of these combi- 
 nation guns, so mounted as to sweep the neighboring 
 housetops, or by being depressed scatter their score of 
 bullets into the street. Above the apertures for the 
 Catlings are loopholes for riflemen, by which every 
 angle of approach can be readily covered. The great- 
 est secrecy is maintained respecting these means of 
 defense, and no stranger is allowed to inspect them. 
 Neither are visitors permitted to see the great vaults 
 in the basement. 
 
 The Sub-Treasury was originally built for and used 
 by the Custom House, but becoming too small for its 
 purposes was remodeled for its present use. 
 
 Adjoining the Treasury is the Assay Office, which is 
 practically a department of the Sub-Treasury. It is a 
 much smaller edifice, and is constructed of granite. 
 
 The Custom House occupies an irregular square 
 bounded by Wall street. Exchange Place, William 
 street, and Hanover street. The Wall street front is 
 144 feet long, and the Exchange Place front, 171 feet 
 long. The depth of the building is 200 feet. The 
 height of the building is 77 feet, and from the ground 
 to the top of the central dome, the distance is 1 24 feet. 
 
THE CUSTOM HOUSE. 
 
 301 
 
 The Wall street front is ornamented with a handsome 
 portico supported by twelve front, four middle and two 
 rear columns of granite, each thirty-eight feet in height. 
 The building is constructed of Quincy granite, and was 
 
 CUSTOM HOUSE. 
 
 erected in 1835, at a cost, including the ground, of 
 $1,800,000. It was used for a number of years as the 
 Merchants' Exchange. It was subsequently sold to 
 the United States Government for ^1,000,000, and was 
 
302 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 converted to its present use. The mam entrance is oit 
 Wall street, but there are entrances on every side of 
 the building. 
 
 The Wall street entrance leads directly to the ro- • 
 tunda, the main hall of the building, lying immediately 
 beneath the dome. Around the sides of this beautiful 
 hall are eight lofty columns of Italian marble, the 
 superb Corinthian columns of which were carved in 
 Italy. They support the base of the dome, and are 
 probably the largest and noblest marble columns in 
 the United States. The immense building is divided 
 into offices, which are used by the Collector of the 
 Port, the Naval Officer, and the Surveyor of the Port, 
 and their subordinates. The other departments of 
 the Custom House are in different parts of the city. 
 The Sample Offices are at 254 West street; the Ap- 
 praiser's Stores at 486 Washington street; the Barge 
 Office at 6 State street; and the Public Stores at the 
 corner of Washington and Laight street. Large as it 
 is, the Custom House building is too small for the 
 business transacted within it, and the erection of a 
 new Custom House has been strongly urged upon the 
 Government. 
 
 The business of the port of New York is immense. 
 Five-sixths of all the duties collected on imports in the 
 United States are received here. The Collectorship 
 of the Port is perhaps the best paying office within the 
 gift of the National Government, and is eagerly sought ^ 
 after by politicians. The Collector is also possessed 
 of great political influence and power, by reason of his 
 being the chief of the vast army of employees of 
 every description engaged in doing Government work 
 
CUSTOM HOUSE INSPECTION. 
 
4 
 
 304 . NEW YORK. 
 
 in the city. In the Custom House proper there are 
 about 1 1 50 clerks, whose aggregate salaries amount to 
 about $3,000,000 per annum. 
 
 The duties of the principal officers of the port are 
 thus stated by Colonel T. B. Thorpe, a veteran em- 
 ployee in the Custom House : — 
 
 "The Collector shall receive all reports, manifests, 
 and documents to be made or exhibited on the entry 
 of any ship or vessel ; shall record, on books to be 
 kept for that purpose, all manifests ; shall receive the 
 entries of all ships or vessels, and of the goods, wares 
 and merchandise imported in them ; shall estimate the 
 amount of the duties payable thereupon, indorsing 
 said amount on the respective entries; shall receive 
 all moneys paid for duties, and take all bonds for se- 
 curing the payment thereof ; shall, with the approba- 
 tion of the Secretary of the Treasury, employ proper 
 personages, weighers, gangers, measurers and inspec- 
 tors, at the port within his district. 
 
 " The Naval Officer shall receive copies of all mani- 
 fests and entries on all goods, wares and merchandise 
 subject to duty (and no duties shall be received with - 
 out such estimate), and shall keep a separate record 
 thereof ; and shall countersign all permits, clearances, 
 certificates, debentures, and other documents granted 
 by the Collector. He shall also examine the Collec- 
 tor's abstract of duties, his accounts, receipts, bonds 
 and expenditures, and, if found correct, shall certify 
 to the same. 
 
 "The Surveyor shall superintend and direct all 
 inspectors, weighers, measurers, and gangers ; shall 
 visit and inspect the ships and vessels; shall return in 
 writing every morning, to the Collector, the name and 
 
INSPECTORS BOARDING A VESSEL. 
 
 305 
 
 nationality of all vessels which shall have arrived from 
 foreign ports ; shall examine all goods, wares and mer- 
 chandise imported, to see that they agree with the In- 
 spector's returns; and shall see that all goods intended 
 for exportation correspond with the entries and per- 
 mits granted therefor; and the said Surveyor shall, in 
 all cases, be subject to the Collector. 
 
 "The Appraiser s department is simply for the pur- 
 pose of deciding the market value and dutiable char- 
 acter of all goods imported, so that the imposts can be 
 laid with correctness. Other than this, it has no con- 
 nection with the Custom House." 
 
 The Barge office is located at the Battery, and is a 
 handsome granite edifice. It is described in connec- 
 tion with the Battery Park, in another chapter. It is< 
 the headquarters of the Inspectors connected with the 
 Surveyor's office. When the arrival of a steamer o! 
 vessel from a foreign port is announced by the tele- 
 graph operator at Sandy Hook, several Inspectors are 
 sent down in a revenue tug to take charge of her. 
 As soon as they go on board the vessel they have 
 absolute control of her passengers and cargo. Should, 
 the vessel be a steamer from abroad, they accompany' 
 her to her anchorage in the river, examine the baggagci 
 of the passengers, and take charge of all containing 
 dutiable articles; see that the proper duties are levied 
 and collected, and if the amount of the duties exceeds 
 a certain sum, send the trunks or parcels to the public 
 store for appraisement. They remain on the vessel 
 until she reaches her landing, and then turn her over 
 to the Custom House officials appointed to supervise 
 the discharge of her cargo. 
 
 20 
 
306 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The formalities of passing goods through the Cus- 
 tom House are tedious and vexatious. Merchants and 
 others in the city having such matters on their hands 
 employ a "Custom House Broker," who, however, has 
 no official connection with the Custom House, to attend 
 to the details for them. The broker is familiar with 
 all the ins and outs of the great establishment, pos- 
 sesses peculiar facilities for the prompt despatch of his 
 work, and is not subject to the delays and annoyances 
 which await a private individual. His fee for passing 
 an entry is five dollars, and on busy days he frequently 
 earns several hundred dollars in this way. 
 
 The portion of the Custom House building most 
 familiar to the general public is the rotunda. In the 
 centre of this hall are the enclosed desks of the officials 
 whose duties bring them in constant contact with mer- 
 chants, shippers, captains of vessels, and all who have 
 business with the establishment. They consist of four 
 Deputy Collectors," three "Chief Clerks," five ' Entry 
 Clerks," two "Bond Clerks," and a "Foreign-Clearance 
 Clerk," and his assistant. 
 
 Tammany Hall stands on the North side of East 
 Fourteenth street, between Irving place and Third 
 avenue, and adjoins the Academy of Music. It is a 
 large, plain structure of red brick with white marble 
 trimmings, and possesses no architectural attractions. 
 It is the property of the Tammany Society, a political 
 organization, and the controlling element of the 
 Democratic party in municipal affairs. It contains 
 a fine hall on the second floor, used for public meet- 
 ings, and formerly occupied as a theatre, and several 
 other smaller halls, and a number of committee rooms. 
 
THE TAMMANY SOCIETY. 
 
 307 
 
 One of the smaller halls, opening on Fourteenth street, 
 on the ground floor, is used as a German variety 
 theatre. 
 
 The "Tammany Society, or Columbian Order," was 
 incorporated in 1789 as a benevolent institution, but at 
 an early day degenerated into a political organization, 
 
 and gave the name of its building to the ruling sec- 
 tion of the Democratic party. The organization of 
 the Society is still maintained distinct from the po- 
 litical party, but as a matter of fact, scarcely any one 
 but a member of the Tammany General Committee is 
 elected a member of the Society. The members are 
 divided into two classes, known as "Braves" and 
 
308 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 "Sachems." New members are admitted from time 
 to time, and the Society is self-perpetuating. The 
 Sachems constitute the governing class, and are the 
 trustees of the property of the Society. The chief 
 officer is called the "Grand Sachem," and his subordi- 
 nates are designated by Indian titles. As a political 
 organization, "Tammany Hall" is said to be the best 
 disciplined body in the Union. It is governed by 
 a Central Committee of over iioo members, under 
 which are City Committees in every ward of the Me- 
 tropolis. In municipal politics it is all-powerful, and 
 controls fully one-half of the lawful votes of the city. 
 In its practical workings "Tammany Hall" is ruled by 
 one man, who is naturally the shrewdest and most 
 energetic of its leaders. He is popularly termed "The 
 Boss.'* In the days of his glory, this position was held 
 by "Boss Tweed." At present, Mr. John Kelly is re- 
 garded as "The Boss" of Tammany. 
 
 The Cooper Union occupies the triangular space 
 formed by the junction of the Bowery, Third and 
 Fourth avenues and 7th street, one square east of 
 Broadway. It is a plain but massive and imposing 
 edifice of brownstone, six stories high, with a large 
 basement below the level of the streets. It was erect- 
 ed by Peter Cooper in 1857, at a cost of ^630,000, and 
 was endowed by him with ^150,000, for the support of 
 the free reading room and library. The street floor is 
 let out in stores, and the floor above is occupied with 
 offices of various kinds. These floors and the great 
 hall in the basement yield a handsome revenue, which 
 is devoted to paying a part of the expenses of the 
 institution. The remainder of the building is devoted 
 
COOPER UNION. 
 
 309 
 
 to a free library and reading room, and halls for lectures 
 and for study. 
 
 The institution was designed by Mr. Cooper for the 
 free instruction of the working classes in science, art, 
 English literature, the foreign languages, and telegraphy. 
 Of late years there has been added to it a school of 
 
 COOPER vsins. 
 
 design for women. The course of instruction is very 
 thorough, the ablest teachers being employed, and the 
 standard of scholarship is high. Searching and rigid 
 examinations test the proficiency of the pupils, and the 
 graduates are sent forth into the world thoroughly 
 prepared in the branches taught here. Mr. Cooper's 
 plans have been ably carried out by the teachers in 
 
310 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 charge of the institution, and he has Jived to see his 
 noble work one of the crowning glories of the Metropo- 
 lis. The library contains about 15,000 volumes of 
 miscellaneous works, and the reading room nearly 300 
 daily and weekly papers and magazines, both domestic 
 and foreign. During the winter months free lectures 
 are delivered in the hall in the basement, on popular 
 and instructive subjects, to crowded audiences. The 
 annual cost of maintaining the institution is about 
 $45,000* It is derived principally from the rental of the 
 stores and offices, and the interest on the endowment 
 fund. 
 
 The Bible House stands immediately facing the 
 Cooper Union, and occupies the entire block bounded 
 by Third and Fourth avenues and 8th and 9th streets. 
 It is a massive structure of red brick, covers an area 
 of three-quarters of an acre, and is six stories in height. 
 It was erected in 1852 and 1853, ^ <^ost of $303,000, 
 but is to-day worth more than twice that sum. It is 
 the property of the American Bible Society, and besides 
 the portion occupied by that organization, contains fifty 
 stores and offices, which return a rental of more than 
 $40,000. Many of the stores on the ground floor are 
 occupied by dealers in religious books, and the offices 
 are mainly taken up by benevolent and charitable so- 
 cieties. The greater portion of the building is occu- 
 pied by the offices, the printing establishment, and the 
 bindery of the American Bible Society. Over six hun- 
 dred persons are employed in these establishments, 
 and" six thousand Bibles are printed, and three hundred 
 and fifty Bibles are bound and finished, and sent to the 
 warerooms every day. The Bible is printed here in 
 
NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN. 
 
 311 
 
 twenty-nine different languages, and portions of it have 
 been published in other languages still. The Society 
 possesses a magnificent library upon biblical subjects, 
 among which is one of the largest and most complete 
 and valuable collections of the Scriptures in existence. 
 The receipts of the Society from 1816, the date of its 
 organization, to 1876, exceeded $17,000,000. In die 
 sixty-three years following its organization it printed 
 and circulated 36,052,169 copies of the Scriptures. 
 
 The National Academy of Design is located at the 
 northwest corner of Fourth avenue ai;id 23d street, and 
 • is one of the most beautiful and artistic buildings in 
 New York. It is built in the pure Gothic style of the 
 thirteenth century, and is constructed of gray and white 
 marble and bluestone, artistically blended, and pro- 
 ducing a novel and pleasing effect. The 23d street front 
 is eighty feet, and the Fourth avenue side ninety feet in 
 length. A double flight of steps leads to the main en- 
 trance, and is ornamented with beautiful carvings and 
 a drinking fountain, all of which blend harmoniously 
 with the general design. The main entrance, on 2 3d^ 
 street, leads to a handsome vestibule, paved with varie- 
 gated marbles. From this a massive and imposing 
 stairway leads to the exhibition galleries, which are lo- 
 cated in the third story and lighted from the roof. The 
 first and second stories are devoted to the reception 
 room, offices, lecture rooms, art schools, and the library. 
 All the halls and rooms are finished handsomely in 
 white pine, ash, mahogany, oak, and black walnut, in 
 their natural colors, no paint being used on the wood- 
 work of the building. 
 
 The Academy is designed for the free instruction of 
 
312 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Students in painting and sculpture. The schools opeiv 
 on the first Monday in October, and close on the first 
 of June in the following year. Great care is exercised 
 in the admission of pupils, as it is designed to restrict 
 the schools to those who intend to make art the pro- 
 fession of their lives. The course of instruction is 
 thorough, and is conducted by artists of national repu- 
 
 NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN. 
 
 tation. An exhibition of new paintings is held in the 
 Spring of each year, and is open to the public upon 
 payment of a small admission fee. Only the works of 
 living American artists are exhibited. During the first 
 three days, known respectively as "Artists' Day," 
 "Varnishing Day," and "Private View," no one is 
 admitted without a card of invitation from a member 
 of the Academy. These days are noted events in 
 
YOUNG men's christian ASSOCIATION. 313 
 
 fashionable society, and invitations are eagerly sought 
 after by the Upper Ten. 
 
 The You7ig Mens Christian Association Building 
 stands opposite the Academy of Design, on the south- 
 west corner of Fourth avenue and Twenty-third street. 
 It is four stories in height, with a mansard roof, broken 
 by three domes, containing a fifth story. The building 
 is constructed of dark New Jersey sandstone, brought 
 from the Belleville quarries, is in the French renais- 
 sance style, and was erected in 1869, at a cost of 
 $500,000. It is handsomely trimmed with light Ohio 
 stone. It has a frontage of one hundred and seventy- 
 five feet on Twenty-third street, and eighty-three 
 feet on Fourth avenue. The Association occupies 
 the second and third floors, while the fourth and 
 fifth floors are taken up chiefly with artists' studios, 
 and the ground floor is occupied with handsome stores. 
 The leased portions of the building return a rental of 
 about <J^i 3,000 per annum. 
 
 The main entrance is in the centre of the Twenty- 
 third street front. A broad, handsome stairway leads 
 to the second floor, on which is situated the main hall, 
 which occupies the western portion of this and the 
 third story. It is one of the largest and handsomest 
 halls in the city, and will comfortably seat 1 500 people. 
 It is two stories in height, and is beautifully and taste- 
 fully decorated. A broad gallery extends around 
 three sides of the hall, and this and the floor below are 
 provided with iron chairs, such as are used in the 
 principal theatres. At the western end is a large plat- 
 form upon which opens a retiring room. On the side 
 of the platform opposite the retiring room is the great 
 
314 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 organ, one of the finest instruments in the city. The: 
 hall is used for lectures and concerts during the fall, 
 winter, and spring, and on Sunday religious services are 
 conducted here by eminent divines invited by a com- 
 mittee of the Association for that purpose. 
 
 The remainder of the second floor is occupied by the 
 reception room, the social parlor, the office of the 
 Secretary, who is the executive officer of the Associa- 
 tion, and the reading room, which is liberally supplied 
 with files of the leading American and foreign papers 
 and magazines. A stairway leads from the reception 
 room to the basement, in which are located the bowl- 
 ing alley and gymnasium. The eastern portion of the 
 third floor is taken up with the library, containing 
 about 13,000 volumes, and rooms for Bible class and 
 prayer meetings and for instruction in modern langua- 
 ges and other studies. Bath rooms and other toilet 
 conveniences are provided in the building. All the 
 appointments are complete, handsome and elegant. 
 
 The building is the property of the New York 
 branch of the Young Men's Christian Association, an 
 organization too well known throughout the country to 
 need a description here. It is open every day, from 8 
 A. M. to 10 p. M., except on Sunday, when the hours 
 are from 2 to 7 p. m. It is a sort of moral oasis to 
 young men in the great wilderness of New York ; a 
 refuge from the temptations and dissipations by which 
 they are surrounded. While it has a fixed scale of 
 charges, moderate in amount, for membership, it cor- 
 dially opens its doors to all, especially to young men 
 living in the city, away from their homes, and subject 
 to the demoralizing influences of hotel and boarding- 
 
GRAND CENTRAL DEPOT. 
 
 315 
 
 house life. Strangers sojourning in the city are es- 
 pecially welcome. The Association is also actively 
 engaged in many noble works of charity. A writer in 
 Harpers Magazine styles the Association Building a 
 "club house." "For such it is," he declares, "both in 
 its appliances and its purposes, though consecrated 
 neither to politics, as are some ; to social festivities, de- 
 generating too often into gambling and intemperance, 
 as are others ; nor to literature and polite society, as 
 are one or two ; but to the cause of good morals, of 
 pure religion, and of Him who is the divine inspirer 
 of the one and the divine founder of the other. 
 
 The Grand Central Depot, at the corner of Fourth 
 avenue and 42d street, and extending from Fourth to 
 Vanderbilt avenues, and from 42d .to 45th streets, is 
 one of the most imposing edifices in New York, and 
 the most superb and complete railway terminus in 
 America. With the exception of the old Hudson River 
 Railroad Depot, at Ninth avenue and 30th street, now 
 used for suburban trains only, it is the only railway 
 station in the city. It is built of red brick, with iron 
 trimmings, painted in imitation of white marble. Three 
 massive pavihons adorn the 42d street front, and two 
 the Vanderbilt avenue front, the central pavilion of each 
 front being provided with an ornamental illuminated 
 clock. The building is six hundred and ninety-six feet 
 long, and two hundred and forty feet wide. The space 
 devoted to the railway tracks under the great roof is 
 six hundred and ten feet long and two hundred feet 
 wide. Twelve trains, each consisting of a locomotive 
 and twelve passenger cars, can be admitted side by 
 side at one time in the depot. The tracks and plat- 
 
316 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 forms are sheltered by an immense glass and iron roof, 
 of a single arch, with a span of two hundred feet and 
 a height of one hundred and ten feet. The offices, 
 baggage and waiting-rooms, etc., are located in the 
 southern end and the western side. Besides these, the 
 basement contains a police station, barber shop, and 
 restaurant. 
 
 The depot is occupied by four important lines of 
 railways. The 42d street front contains the offices, 
 waiting and baggage-rooms of the New York, New 
 Haven and Boston, and the Shore Line Railroads ; 
 and the Vanderbilt avenue, or western side, is taken 
 up with the offices, baggage and waiting-rooms of the 
 New York, Harlem and Albany, and the Hudson 
 River and New York Central Railroads, the rooms of 
 each road teing entirely separated from those of the 
 other. The upper floors of the building are occupied 
 by the offices of the various railway companies. All 
 the apartments in the great structure are handsomely 
 frescoed, finished in hard wood, and provided with 
 every convenience. 
 
 The car house, which comprises the principal portion 
 of the depot, is very handsome. The roof is supported 
 by thirty-one ornamental iron trusses, each one of 
 which weighs forty tons and forms a single arch stretch- 
 ing from side to side. Eighty thousand feet of glass 
 admit the light of day, and at night the place is bril- 
 liantly illuminated by gas jets supplied with large reflec- 
 tors and lit by electricity. The platforms between the 
 tracks and on the sides are constructed of a light- 
 colored stone. Each road has its own tracks, and so 
 perfect are the arrangements of the depot, that though 
 
318 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 one hundred and twenty-five trains arrive and depart 
 daily, there is no confusion. The running of the trains 
 is regulated by the depot master, who occupies a lofty 
 box or office at the north end of the station, from 
 which he can command a view of the various roads as 
 far as the entrance to the tunnels, half a mile distant. 
 A system of automatic signals governs the movements 
 of all trains from the depot to the Harlem River. 
 
 This great building was begun on the 1 5th of Novem- 
 ber, 1869, and was completed on the 9th of October, 
 1 87 1. It was projected by and erected under the 
 supervision of the late Commodore Vanderbilt. 
 
 In the yards to the north of the depot are numerous 
 buildings for the shelter of cars and locomotives, coal 
 sheds and repair shops. The tracks beyond the depot 
 being for several squares on a level with the street, a 
 number of bridges, built over the tracks, continue the 
 lines of the various cross streets from one side of 
 Fourth avenue to the other. Above the depot Fourth 
 avenue is in a perfectly straight line, and along it the 
 trains run to Harlem River, which is four and a half 
 miles above the depot. For a mile and a half above 
 the point where the trains pass entirely below the 
 street level, the road bed, containing two tracks, is 
 within an open cut flanked on each side by a tunnel, 
 built of brick, and having within it another single track. 
 The cross streets are carried over the cut on iron or 
 brick arches, while iron railings extend all around the 
 cut, fencing it off from the avenue, which is wide enough 
 to provide a good-sized roadway for driving, and the 
 usual sidewalks for pedestrians on each side of the cut. 
 Above this mile and a half the street level gradually 
 
THE FOURTH AVENUE TUNNELS. 
 
 319 
 
 becomes much higher, and the road bed of the railways 
 runs for half a mile through a partly brick built and 
 partly rock cut tunnel, at the upper end of which the 
 street level makes a sudden descent, and the road bed 
 is carried over the Harlem Flats on a stone viaduct, 
 the cross streets passing underneath, through arches. 
 When the street level again ascends, about a mile and 
 a quarter from the Harlem River, the road bed is 
 again run through an open cut, like that just above the 
 depot." 
 
320 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 NEW year's calls. 
 
 JIBW York's great festal day— preparations for new year's day — the HAIR-DRBSSBSa^ 
 ROUNDS — reception CARDS — HOW THEY ARE ISSUED — JOINT RECEPTIONS — THE CARD-BAS- 
 KET AND ITS MEANING LADIES* TOILETS — A CHANCE FOR REFORM — THE FIRST CALLERS— 
 
 THE VETERANS — ADVANTAGES OF A LIST — SCENES TOWARD NIGHTFALL — TOO MUCH PUNCH- 
 MRS. B.'S RECEPTION — A SWEET FINALE — NEW YEAR IN THE KITCHEN — HOW THE SALOONS 
 CELEBRATE THE DAY — REFRESHMENTS AND PUNCH FOR ALL — NEW YORK WITH A HBAU- 
 ACHE — ladies' day. 
 
 The Christmas festivities are scarcely over, when- 
 New Yofk again puts on its holiday attire, and pre- 
 pares to celebrate in hearty style its own peculiar day 
 — the first day of the New Year. Since the settlement, 
 of the colony by the Dutch, the first of January has 
 been set apart by the dwellers in the metropolis for 
 social observance, for renewing former friendships 
 strengthening old ones, and wishing each other health 
 and happiness for the year just opening. The custom 
 is a pleasing one, but it is observed now in a manner 
 that would make the old Knickerbockers roll their eyes 
 in surprise could they but look upon it. 
 
 Among the middle classes and the steadier-going; 
 citizens, New Year's Day is observed with hearti- 
 ness, but also with characteristic good sense. It is 
 only after we enter the charmed realm of society that 
 we find the glare and the show that have given to the 
 day its peculiar characteristics. With the Upper-Ten- 
 Thousand it is made the occasion of displaying the 
 wealth and style of the family, and of impressing the 
 
PREPARING TO RECEIVE. 
 
 321 
 
 callers with a proper sense of its importance in the 
 social worldo 
 
 Long before Christmas preparations are begun for 
 the great event, houses are cleaned, garnished, and 
 put in apple-pie order. If new furniture is needed, its 
 purchase is postponed until the last of the old year, in 
 order that it may shine forth in all its splendor at the 
 beginning of the new. The dressmakers are busy pre- 
 paring magnificent costumes for the occasion, and the 
 tailors have all they can do to provide the gentlemen 
 with new outfits in which to make their calls. Car- 
 nages are engaged for weeks beforehand, and enor- 
 mous prices are charged for them, as much as forty or 
 fifty dollars being paid for a vehicle for the day. From 
 five to ten dollars an hour is the usual charge. Hair- 
 dressers are busy going from house to house, arrang- 
 ing the coiffures of the ladies. They begin their rounds 
 at midnight on the 31st of December, and are busy 
 until noon the next day. Those who are so unfortu- 
 nate as to be among the first served by these ''artistes 
 in hair," have a hard time of it. They cannot think of 
 lying down, as to do so would be to disarrange their 
 hair, so they must either keep awake all night, or sleep 
 sitting bolt upright in a chair. 
 
 Ladies who intend to " receive," often club together 
 at the residence of one of the party and hold a joint 
 reception. This is rather hard on the average caller, 
 especially towards the later hours of the day. A gentle- 
 man calls at a house, expecting to pay his respects to 
 Mrs. A., the mistress of the establishment. He finds 
 associated with her Mrs. B., Mrs. C, and perhaps Mrs. 
 D., to each of whom he must pay his respects and get 
 21 
 
322 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 off his prettiest sayings. On such occasions the mat- 
 ters are wholly in the hands of the ladies of the house. 
 The male members of the family are out making calls 
 at other residences, and the ladies have things all their 
 own way. 
 
 Of late years, ladies who desire a long list of callers 
 — and the larger the list the greater the social eclat — 
 issue cards a week or so prior to the first of January, 
 a virtual invitation to the person receiving one to call 
 on New Year's Day. The consequence is, that Tom, 
 Dick, and Harry pull the bells of houses they never 
 saw before, are greeted by ladies they may or may not 
 know, and are, as a rule, prepared to meet their hostess 
 on just such terms as her unsolicited acquaintance and 
 advances would apparently warrant. This is on a par 
 with a habit some very young men have of " pooling 
 their lists." Mr. A. knows twenty ladies, Mr. B. the 
 same number, Mr. C. thirty, and Mr. D. twenty-five. 
 The quartette hire a carriage together, put their lists in 
 one, and rush around frantically from house to house, 
 each introducing the others to his friends in turn. 
 Nowadays the Elevated Railroads save the young men 
 considerable expense in carriage hire. They can get 
 about the city very quickly by means of these rapid 
 trains, and as the lines run but a short distance from 
 the fashionable thoroughfares, the walk before them is 
 short. 
 
 It has become the custom for families who do not 
 intend to receive callers to close the front of the house 
 and suspend a small card-basket from the front door 
 knob. Visitors at once take the hint, drop their cards 
 into the basket, and pass on. Sometimes the mansion 
 
ladies' new year toilettes. 
 
 323 
 
 thus closed is one famous for its bountifully-spread 
 table. In such cases the visitor is not a little put out 
 by the reflection that the failure of the family to ob- 
 serve "the time-honored custom" ha^s cut him out of a 
 " royal feed." 
 
 Ten o'clock is the earliest hour at which Society 
 permits calls to be paid. The most exclusive do not 
 open their doors until noon. Then the stream of 
 visitors begins to set in, and continues until eight or 
 nine o'clock. 
 
 The parlors of the mansions where calls are expected 
 are lavishly adorned with flowers, and a handsome 
 table is spread, provided with all the delicacies of the 
 season, and rare and costly wines, and punch. In 
 the more exclusive dwellings the curtains are down 
 and the gas lighted. The ladies of the family, ravish- 
 ingly dressed, take their stand in the drawing-room 
 and await their visitors. The dresses are all new for 
 the occasion — that is, what there is of them. They 
 are full and elaborate below the waist, but above that 
 there is a plentiful lack of dry goods, and a liberal 
 display of neck, arms and shoulders. Gazing at these 
 marvelously attired creatures, one cannot help calling 
 to mind the words of the great Dr. Johnson to the 
 equally great David Garrick: "Davy, I shan't come 
 behind the scenes at your theatre any more — the silk 
 stockings and white bosoms of your actresses excite 
 my amatory propensities, and render me unfit for work 
 on the dictionary." 
 
 Amid all the outcry for reform on these occasions, 
 why does not some one propose a reform in the matter 
 of feminine toilettes at New Year receptions? Is it 
 
324 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Strange that some very young men, whose weak heads 
 have been dazed by the numerous healths they have 
 drank during the day, should, in the presence of so 
 many charms, occasionally forget where they are? 
 
 In a little while the first caller is announced by the 
 servant in charge of the front door. He divests him- 
 self of his hat and overcoat in the hall, and enters the 
 presence of the ladies. The first ones are generally 
 young men who are anxious to make as many calls as 
 possible, and start out early. The old stagers do not 
 come upon the scene until later in the day. The 
 visitor advances to the hostess, pays his respects to 
 her and the other ladies present, wishes them a happy 
 New Year, and utters a few common-places on the 
 weather. The hostess responds pleasantly, and invites 
 the gentleman to partake of some of the refreshments 
 spread before him, including a glass of wine or punch, 
 and smiles quietly at the eagerness with which he 
 responds to her invitation. The refreshments are 
 swallowed hurriedly, the visitor winds up with a few 
 complimentary phrases, which he repeats at every 
 house he visits, until the wine and the punch have 
 driven them from his memory, and bows himself out, 
 leaving the ladies to pick his character to pieces when 
 he is gone. Other callers follow in rapid succession, 
 and the same scene is repeated until the night ends the 
 farce. The young men eat little and drink much at 
 such* visits. The veteran caller, however, knows where 
 the best tables are spread, and the hostess' heart 
 warms to see the ample justice he does to her good 
 taste. He drinks little, and so keeps his head cool, 
 -and during the day manages to get three or four good 
 
THE VETEJiAN CALLER AT HIS WORK. 
 
326 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 square meals, under the pretence of partaking of re- 
 freshments. 
 
 Most of the men, in starting out on their calls, make 
 out a list of the houses they intend to visit. This is 
 given to the driver of the carriage occupied, and he 
 follows it in the order in which it is made out. Now 
 this is a wise precaution. Few men could trust their 
 memories with so many names, and towards the end 
 of the day, when the wine and . the punch have done 
 their work, memory is incapable of performing any of 
 her functions, and the list becomes a necessity. Some- 
 times, when the list is almost used up, and the caller is 
 in the same condition, the driver leads him from the 
 carriage to the door of the next mansion to be visited, 
 rings the bell, and thrusts him inside. Be not too 
 quick, oh reader, to commend the tender care of said 
 driver. The door remains open long enough for him 
 to catch a glimpse of what follows, and you may be 
 very sure he is repaid by the fun that ensues. 
 
 The scene towards the close of the day, in some of 
 the splendid mansions of the upper ten, is one that 
 must be witnessed to be appreciated. The ladies are 
 worn out with fatigue, and bored to death by the stu- 
 'pidity of their visitors. Carriages rattle up furiously; 
 young men in various stages of booziness are ushered 
 in. Some are dreamy and melancholy, and hold on 
 firmly to a chair or the corner of the table while 
 endeavoring to get out their set speeches; others are 
 merry and boisterous; others still are disposed to be a 
 little too friendly with the ladies. It may be that the 
 ladies themselves have had too much punch — such 
 things do happen. And then the^ scene is indescrib- 
 
BEWILDERED CALLERS. 
 
 327 
 
 ably ludicrous. These late visitors leer vaguely at the 
 hostess and her companions, mutter their compliments 
 and good wishes in thick, unsteady voices, gulp down 
 
 A CALLER WHO HAS HAD " TOO MUCH PUNCH." 
 
 the liquors offered them, and stagger out into the hall, 
 where the servant assists them in making their way out. 
 Sometimes a gendeman who has paid a large number 
 of calls falls helpless at the feet of the hostess, and has 
 
328 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 to be assisted by the servants to his carriage. They 
 
 tell a story in New York of a certain Mrs. B , one 
 
 of the latest new comers in the avenue. Of her origin 
 it is needless to speak; her peculiar brogue told the 
 story of that. Having no daughters of her own, she 
 induced two of her lady friends, like herself new stars 
 in the firmament of fashion, to assist her at her first 
 reception. ' They had scores of callers, and the recep- 
 tion lasted late into the evening. It ended with the ser- 
 vants closing the house, and leaving the hostess, her 
 fair friends, and several gentlemen callers, comfortably 
 settled in sofas and arm chairs — one was on the floor, 
 where they passed the remainder of the night. It was 
 the old story — too much champagne and punch. 
 
 No one loses caste in society for these little indiscre- 
 tions, however. Society is charitable, and the parties 
 are readily pardoned for "what might occur to any 
 one." 
 
 While these things are going on above stairs, the 
 kitchen is doing its full share in the proper observance 
 of the day. Biddy sets a fine table for her own callers, 
 and a travesty of the scenes in the drawing room is 
 v-snacted in the kitchen below — all at the master's 
 expense. Trust Biddy for looking after that. 
 
 Those who have no friends to call upon may be sup- 
 posed to feel lonely on New Year's day. Not so. The 
 free lunch tables of the bar rooms are bountifully 
 spread, and are open to all comers. True, the liquors 
 used must be paid for, and are not quite as good in 
 quality as those provided gratis in the avenue man- 
 sions, but enough is dispensed to repay the saloon 
 keeper for his outlay upon the lunch table. The fun 
 
ladies' day. 
 
 329 
 
 IS rather more uproarious than in the drawing room, 
 and sometimes degenerates into a free fight, which the 
 police are called upon to stop. But all who wish to be 
 merry, and do homage to "the time-honored custom," 
 can find ample opportunity to indulge their inclinations, 
 in one way or another, on this festal day. 
 
 January the 2d finds Young New York with a head- 
 ache, and the older part used up with fatigue. This is 
 "Ladies' Day," and is devoted by the fair sex to calling 
 upon each other, exchanging notes as to the receptions 
 of the previous day, imbibing more punch, and swallow- 
 ing more refreshments. The balance of the week is 
 spent in recovering from the effects of two days of hard 
 social work, and in preparing for the round of fashion- 
 able dissipation, which fills up the balance of the 
 ' winter. 
 
330 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 AMONG THE BULLS AND BEARS OF WALL STREET. 
 
 ►BSCRIPTION OF WALL STREET — VALUE OF REAL ESTATE — ENORMOUS RENTS — ORIGtW OF THB 
 NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — TRANSACTIONS OF THE STREET — THE SCENB 
 AT NOON — THE STOCK EXCHANGE — THE LONG ROOM — OUTSIDE DEALERS — THE REGULAR 
 BOARD — HOW BUSINESS IS CONDUCTED IN THE EXCHANGE — THE VICE-PRESIDENT — RULES OP 
 THE EXCHANGE — GOOD FAITH EXACTED OF ITS MEMBERS — THE GOVERNMEPTT BOARD — 
 CHARACTERISTIC SCENES — THE VAULTS AND THEIft TREASURES — THE TELEGRAPH INSTRU- 
 MENTS — THE "tickers" — LIFE OF A STOCK BROKER — SPORTS OF THE EXCHANGE — THB 
 CLEARING HOUSE AND ITS OPERATIONS — CURBSTONE BROKERS — RECKLESS TRANSACTIONS- 
 STOCK SPECULATIONS — BUYING AND SELLING ON COMMISSION — UNCERTAINTIES OF THB 
 
 STREET— HOW FORTUNES ARE MADE AND LOST ON WALL STREET— STOCK GAMBLING WHO 
 
 ARE THE SPECULATORS — A DARING BROKER — " BLACK FRIDAY " HOW AN OPERATOR WAS 
 
 RUINED — STOCK SWINDLERS — SHARPERS IN WALL STREET THE COMBINATION SYSTEM — A 
 
 BAREFACED SWINDLE ACTION OF THE GENERAL GOVERNMENT — HOW BOGUS OPERATORS 
 
 FLEECE UNSUSPECTING CUSTOMERS — AN INSIDE VIEW OF THE COMBINATION SYSTEM— 
 ■HORMOUS PROFITS— THB SWINDLE EXPOSED — A WARNING TO WOULD-BB SPBCULATORS. 
 
 I. 
 
 WALL STREET. 
 
 Wall Street, the financial centre, not only of New 
 York, but of the New World, is but half a mile in 
 length, and is one of the narrowest thoroughfares in 
 the Great City. It commences on the East side of 
 Broadway, opposite Trinity Church, and runs direct to 
 the East River, gradually sloping from its Western end 
 towards the water. It is handsomely built up along 
 the greater part of its course, and contains some of the 
 most elegant buildings in the city. Marble, brown- 
 stone and brick are the materials chiefly used, iron 
 finding no favor in the financial heart of the city. The 
 buildings are used for banks, brokers', lawyers' offices, 
 and as the headquarters of some of the greatest cor- 
 
WALL STREET. 
 
 331 
 
 porations in the Union. The street contains the Stock 
 Exchange, the United States Sub-Treasury and Assay 
 Office, and the Custom House. All the buildings, 
 with the exception of those just named, are filled from 
 top to bottom with offices. Land is more valuable 
 here than in any other section of the city; even Broad- 
 way prices for real estate sink into insignificance when 
 compared with those demanded in Wall street. Rents 
 are in proportion, and the cost of a comfortable dwell- 
 ing house is often paid for a year's use of a small 
 office in a desirable location. Landlords reap a rich 
 harvest here. Brokers must be close to the Stock 
 Exchange, and the lawyers doing business here must 
 be near their clients. These classes pay any rent 
 asked in order to hold their places. 
 
 The streets intersecting Wall street are lined for 
 several blocks with banks, bankers' and brokers' offices, 
 and are all included in the general term "Wall Street," 
 in dealing with financial matters. Even Broad street 
 is absorbed in the term, and yields precedence to its 
 smaller rival. 
 
 Wall street derives its name from the fact that 
 under the rule of the Dutch, the northern wall of the 
 city followed the line now pursued by the street. 
 Long before the advent of the English, houses sprang 
 up on each side of the wall, and the open space betw^een 
 them became a well traveled street, known as "Long 
 de Wa!,'* which was afterwards changed to the present 
 name. Wall street. The wall was demolished in 1 699, 
 and the stones were used to build a Town Hall, which 
 stood on the site of the present United States Sub- 
 Treasury. Prior to the Revolution, the lower part of 
 
332 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 the street was occupied by rows of stores, from the 
 river to Front Street, while the upper part, to Broad- 
 way, was taken up with dwellings. In 1 791 the Bank 
 of New York was erected at the corner of William 
 street, and gave the signal for the removal of the 
 residences and the conversion of the street inte the 
 centre of financial operations. The change was soon 
 accomplished, and by 1825 the entire street was given 
 over to the destiny which has since attended it. 
 
 On the south side of the street, a short distance be* 
 low Broadway, is the Wall street front of the Stock 
 Exchange, built of white marble and very handsome^ 
 but not so imposing as the Broad street front. On 
 the northeast corner of Nassau street is the Sub- 
 Treasury, a noble edifice of white marble, built in the 
 Doric style of architecture, with an imposing portico 
 reached from the street by a broad flight of marble 
 stairs. Next door is the Assay Office, a branch of the 
 Sub-Treasury, but a more modest edifice of granite. 
 Immediately opposite is the finest private banking 
 house in the Union. It is built of white marble, and 
 fronts on both Wall and Broad streets. It is owned 
 by the Drexels, who here conduct the New York 
 branch of their enormous business. It is said that the 
 ground on which it stands brought the highest price 
 ever paid for land in New York. On the south side 
 of the street, occupying an irregular block bounded by 
 Wall street, Exchange Place, William and Hanover 
 streets, is the Custom House, a stately edifice of 
 granite, once known and used as the Merchants' Ex- 
 change. Just below, on the same side of Wall street, 
 is the beautiful marble banking house of Brown 
 
THE WALL STREET OF TO-DAY. 
 
 333 
 
 Brothers. All along the street are banks, with vaults 
 stored with almost fabulous wealth, and offices occupied 
 by men whose names are powers in the financial world. 
 The transactions of "The Street" foot up an almost 
 fabulous sum daily, and the mind fairly staggers under 
 the weight of the figures which represent the aggregate 
 of the business done here year by year. From 9 a. m. 
 to 4 P. M. on week days, the financial transactions ar- 
 ranged here exceed those of all the financial exchanges 
 in all the other cities of the Union. 
 
 The proper time to see Wall street in its glory is 
 high noon. From the steps of the Sub-Treasury an 
 admirable view is obtained of both Wall and Broad 
 streets, with their busy, eager throngs, all bent on 
 making money. Bank messengers, with bags filled 
 with coin, greenbacks, bills of exchange, bonds, and 
 stocks, hurry along, keeping a firm grip upon their bags 
 and eyeing each person they pass warily; office boys, 
 telegraph boys with yellow envelopes containing mes- 
 sages from all quarters of the globe, dart here and 
 there through the throng, and quiet, unobtrusive 
 detectives stroll leisurely along the sidewalks, on the 
 alert to discover and prevent any attempt at street rob- 
 beries. The great centre of attraction is the Broad 
 street front of the Stock Exchange, where a stalwart 
 policeman stands guard at the entrance, to keep out 
 unauthorized visitors. The steps, the sidewalk and the 
 street are black with a struggling, shrieking mass of 
 "Curbstone Brokers," who are doing quite as lively, 
 although not so reliable, a business as that which is 
 going on within the Exchange. Long rows of cabs 
 stand in Broad street awaiting customers. Men dart 
 
 V 
 
334 NEW YORK. 
 
 out from the Exchange or the neighboring offices, jump 
 into these vehicles and are off hke a flash. Fast driv» 
 ing is not noticed here, for time is everything. Over- 
 head stretches a vast network of telegraph wires, look- 
 ing like a gigantic cobweb, each and all throbbing 
 messages that may affect the fate of millions. Over 
 all come floating the sweet tones of the chimes of old 
 Trinity, sounding clear and strong above the rattle and 
 roar of the street, telling that time is passing, and 
 eternity is drawing near for some of the busy schemers 
 in tiiis great realm of Mammon. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE. 
 
 The Stock Exchange of New York is located on 
 Broad street, and extends back to New street. It has 
 also an L running through to Wall street, where the 
 visitors' entrance is located. It is a handsome building 
 of white marble, and the Broad street entrance is orna- 
 mented with a fine portico of iron. The building is 
 occupied by the Stock Exchange proper, the Mining 
 Board, and the Government Board. During the past 
 year the internal arrangements of the building have 
 been altered and improved, at great expense, and the 
 Exchange is now one of the handsomest and most con- 
 veniently arranged edifices in the city. 
 
 The Broad street entrance leads directly to a large 
 hall on the street floor. This is "The Long Room," and 
 is devoted to the irregular sales of stocks which are 
 not included among the transactions of the exchange 
 proper. Any one, by paying ^50, can purchase an 
 annual ticket of admission to this room, and can engage 
 
THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 
 
 335 
 
 here in the purcliase and sale of stocks without being 
 a member of the regular board. The hall is always 
 filled with a noisy crowd, yelling and gesticulating vio- 
 lently, and rushing about Jie room like a parcel of 
 lunatics. There is no regular ^rder of proceedings. 
 
 NEW YORK STOCK BXCHANGB. 
 
 A dozen different stocks are being purchased and sold 
 at the same moment, and only an habitue of the place 
 can tell the meaning of the hideous cries and frantic 
 gestures of the half crazed mob. The crowd is not 
 overclean, and is in strange contrast with the natty. 
 
336 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 sprucely dressed brokers operating in the Exchange 
 above. Yet these men are equally in earnest with 
 their more fortunate neighbors. Millions of dollars 
 change hands here annually. No written and rigidly 
 enforced code of laws governs the transactions of the 
 Long Room, and you must know well the man you are 
 dealing with here. Strange faces are constantly appear- 
 ing here, for the ups and downs of the room are sudden 
 and sharpo A few years hence you will see some of the 
 men who are now dealing largely here begging a night's 
 lodging at the station house, or you may find them 
 seated in the Exchange above, among the financial 
 magnates of the land. 
 
 The Stock Exchange occupies a spacious and lofty 
 hall on the floor above the Long Room. It is hand- 
 somely decorated, well ventilated and warmed, and 
 massive and elegant gas fixtures furnish the means of 
 flooding the hall with a brilliant light. At one end is a 
 gallery, with accommodations for about 200 persons, 
 to which strangers are admitted during the sessions of 
 the Board. A large platform at the opposite end of the 
 hall is fitted up with handsome desks for the vice-presi- 
 dent, the secretary, and the telegraph operator. On 
 each side is a large blackboard on which the quota- 
 tions of the day are recorded. Adjoining the hall are 
 committee and cloak rooms for the use of the members. 
 
 " The Stock Exchange Board is regularly incorporated 
 under the laws of the State of New York, and is the 
 only lawful association in the city for the purchase and 
 sale of stocks and bonds. It con^sts of 1060 members, 
 who are admitted by ballot, and no one but a man of 
 well-known integrity and sound financial standing can 
 
HOW STOCKS ARE SOLD. 
 
 337 
 
 obtain admission to the Board. The control of the 
 organization is vested in a council of forty members, 
 of which the President, Secretary, and Treasurer are 
 members, ex officio. A seat in the Board costs about 
 $6000, and is the absolute personal property of its 
 owner. He may sell or otherwise dispose of it as he 
 would any other property belonging to him, subject 
 only to the approval of the Committee on Admissions. 
 In case of the death of a member, the Committee dis- 
 poses of his seat, and after paying all dues and other 
 claims on the part of the Exchange against him, hands 
 the balance to his heirs. A member who becomes 
 insolvent or fails to meet his contracts is suspended, 
 and cannot be readmitted until he has made a satis- 
 factory settlement with his creditors. Should he fail to 
 do this, his seat is sold, for their benefit. The Board 
 requires from its members the utmost good faith in 
 their transactions, and punishes any departure from 
 the strictest commercial integrity. 
 
 All stocks and bonds offered for sale in the Exchange 
 are closely examined by a committee, and none can 
 be dealt in until it is found to be a bo7ia fide security. 
 
 Two sessions of the Board are held daily, the morn^ 
 
 ing session at half-past ten, and the afternoon session 
 
 at one o'clock. The order of proceedings is the same 
 
 on both occasions. Two lists of stocks, the Regular 
 
 and the Free List, being called each time. The Regular 
 
 List is made up in advance of the session, and must 
 
 always be called, and called first. It is divided into five 
 
 parts: i, Miscellaneous Stocks; 2, Railroad Stocks; 
 
 3, State Bonds; 4, City Stocks; 5, Railroad Bonds. 
 
 The session is called to order by the Vice-president; 
 22 
 
NEW YORK. 
 
 after which the Secretary reads the minutes of the pre- 
 vious meeting. The Regular List is then called, and 
 the work of the day begins. Very little interest is 
 manifested in the call of miscellaneous stocks. Bids 
 are quickly made and accepted, and there is an evi- 
 dent desire to get through with this part of the routine 
 as quickly as possible. The offers and sales are re- 
 peated by the Vice-president to the Secretary as fast 
 as they are made, and the transactions are recorded 
 by him in the minutes, while a clerk registers them on 
 the blackboard on the platform. Should a dispute 
 arise as to the purchase or sale of a security, an appeal 
 is made to the Vice-president, whose decision is final. 
 
 Railroad stocks are next called, and in an instant 
 the Board is in an uproar. Offers to sell and to pur- 
 chase come in rapid succession, sometimes a score or 
 more at a time, and are all yelled out at the top of the 
 brokers' lungs. The noise is terrific, and it seems as 
 if the operators had suddenly gone mad. A stranger 
 can make nothing out of this confusion, but the keen 
 eye of the Vice-president is everywhere on the throng, 
 and his quick ear catches the offers and bids, and notes 
 the sales, which are promptly communicated by him to 
 the Secretary, who writes them down. At the same time 
 the clerk records them on the official blackboard, and 
 the telegraph operator flashes them to all parts of New 
 York, where they are noted on the long ribbons of the 
 thousands of "tickers" in the offices, hotels, saloons, 
 restaurants, and bar-rooms of the city. Thanks to 
 these "tickers," or recording instruments, men can 
 Watch the market, and buy and sell, miles away from 
 the Stock Exchange, for the " ticker " keeps them in- 
 
FINING MEMBERS. 
 
 339 
 
 formed, minute by minute, of the transactions there, 
 and the telegraph puts them in instantaneous commu- 
 nication with their brokers. 
 
 The railroad list completed, the excitement subsides 
 somewhat, and the other portions of the regular list are 
 called, arousing more or less interest, according to the 
 popularity of the stock or the condition of the market. 
 Then the Free List is in order, and the members can 
 request the Vice-president to call such securities as 
 they wish to deal in. At the close of the Free List 
 members may ask for the call of some stock that has 
 been hurriedly passed over in the call of the Regular 
 List. This completes the work of the Board, and the 
 session comes to an end. The afternoon session is but 
 a repetition of the morning's proceedings. 
 
 The Vice-president's duties are very exacting. He 
 must watch the proceedings with the closest attention, 
 note every transaction, report it to the Secretary for 
 record, settle disputes between buyers and sellers, re- 
 press all disorders, and punish all infractions of the 
 rules of the Board. For the performance of these duties 
 he receives a salary of $7000 a year. By his side sits 
 the roll keeper, whose business it is to record the fines 
 as they are imposed upon the members by the presiding 
 officer. These fines are the source of a considerable 
 revenue to the Exchange. The sessions of the Board 
 are always marked by numerous violations of its rules 
 by members, for the brokers are anything but a dig- 
 nified or orderly body. The average broker pays an- 
 nually several hundred dollars in fines, but he consoles 
 himself with the reflection that the fine he has paid, or 
 the objects he has accomplished by his practical jokes. 
 
840 NEW YORK. 
 
 are worth tne money. A member interrupting the 
 presiding officer during a call of stocks is fined not less 
 than twenty-five cents for each offence ; smoking a 
 cigar in the Exchange is punished with a fine of five 
 dollars; to be absent from a special meeting is to incur 
 a fine of not less than five dollars ; standing on a chair 
 or table costs one dollar; to throw a paper dart or 
 ball at a member during the session of the Board is to 
 incur a'fine of ten dollars; refusing to be quiet when 
 called to order by the presiding officer, smashing a hat 
 over the eyes of a member while the Board is in ses- 
 sion, and sundry other offences against good order, are 
 punishable with fines ranging from twenty-five cents to 
 ten dollars. The fines are charged against the mem- 
 bers by the roll-keeper, and must be settled once every 
 six months. 
 
 The Exchange watches carefully over the contracts 
 made by its members. Its transactions are all open 
 and made in good faith, and its members must live up 
 to their agreements or leave the Board. This is not 
 only a protection to the outside customers of the 
 brokers, but also a safeguard thrown around the mem- 
 bers themselves, as it teaches them to be cautious in 
 their dealings, and to avoid risks that they cannot 
 meet. 
 
 The proceedings of the Stock Board are generally 
 exciting, and often indescribably ludicrous. Yet often- 
 times the fun has a deliberate commercial purpose be- 
 hind it. A sudden crushing of the hat over the eyes 
 of some active operator may delay or change the 
 character of an important transaction in which the 
 offender is interested; a disturbance by a number of 
 
SCENES IN THE GOVERNMENT BOARD. 341 
 
 members acting in concert will prevent bids or offers 
 from being heard until it is too late. In such cases the 
 fines imposed are cheerfully paid, the purpose of the 
 disorder being generally accomplished. 
 
 On the second floor of the Exchange building is a 
 handsomely fitted up room known as "The Govern- 
 ment Board." At the head of the chamber is a plat- 
 form occupied by the desks of the officials and the 
 telegraph instrument, and from this the seats of the 
 members rise in tiers one above another. This Board 
 is devoted exclusively to dealings in the bonds and 
 securities of the General Government. Its organizatior/ 
 and mode of procedure is similar to that of the Stock 
 Board. 
 
 The Vice-president begins: — 
 Sixes, '8 1 registered, '8i coupon; 5-20S '82 regis- 
 tered coupon. What's bid?" 
 
 Here and there from flanking chairs come sputter- 
 ing bids or offers : — 
 
 "Ten thousand at ^, buyer three." 
 "I'll give an seller three for the lot." 
 buyer thirty, for fifty thousand." 
 %, regular, for any part of five thousand.'* 
 First Voice, — "Sold, five hundred." 
 The presiding officer repeats the sale and term^, 
 the Secretary makes his registry, and a new bond \% 
 started. 
 
 Sometimes when 5 -20s are called, at first there is 
 only one voice, which rings the changes on 
 
 "I'll give 115. I'll give 115 for a thousand; '15 for 
 a thousand." Presently, however, before any response 
 follows the offer, a member in a distant corner, either 
 
S42 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 carelessly or maliciously, shouts out, "I'll give '14 for a 
 thousand; '14 for a thousand." 
 
 The Vice-President plies his hammer: "Fine Ir- 
 ving — fine Irving, fifty cents." The roll keeper proceeds 
 to make his little note of it, and Irving, who has 
 violated the rule, founded on common sense, which 
 forbids a member making a bid below or an offer 
 above the one which has the floor, immediately subsides, 
 amid the laughter of his neighbors. 
 
 Occasionally an interruption of a grosser character 
 occurs, a member leaping from his seat on some slight 
 provocation, and striking off the hat of the man who 
 has offended. "Fine Harrison; fine Harrison again ;" 
 ''fine, FINE him again." "Fine Harrison !" cries the Vice- 
 president, repeating the word without cessation, until 
 the broker's wrath has been appeased and he returns 
 to his chair with the disagreeable reflection that a 
 heavy score is against him for the semi-annual settle- 
 ment day. Every repetition of that fatal monosyllable 
 was a fresh mark of fifty cents or a dollar against his 
 name. Generally, however, the Government brokers 
 are more orderly than their neighbors in the Regular 
 Board. Indeed, the whole proceedings are more 
 decorous and respectful, the bidding, half the time, 
 being carried on in a low conversational tone. At 
 second call there is a brief excitement, but when things 
 are dull throughout the street, this room peculiarly 
 reflects the external influences. 
 
 Very different it is, however, on days when some 
 special cause provokes great fluctuations. Then the 
 members spring from their seats, arms, hands, excitable 
 faces, rapid vociferations, all come in play, and the ele- 
 
♦ 
 
 THE STOCK TELEGRAPH. 
 
 343 
 
 ment oi pantomime performs its part in assisting the 
 human voice as naturally as among the Italians of Syra- 
 cuse. To the uninitiated the biddings here are as unin- 
 telligible as elsewhere, sounding to ordinary ears like 
 the gibberish of Victor Hugo's Compachinos. But 
 the comparative quietude of this Board renders it 
 easier to follow the course of the market, to detect the 
 shades of difference in the running offers, and gener- 
 ally to get a clearer conception of this part of the 
 machinery of stock brokerage. 
 
 In the basement beneath the room of the Govern- 
 ment Board is a large vault containing 6i8 small safes,, 
 arranged in three tiers. Each safe is a foot and a 
 half square, and is rented by one of the brokers, who 
 deposits in it for safe keeping, when the Board is not ia 
 session, a tin box containing his bonds and securities. 
 It is said that the aggregate value of the securities 
 kept here is over two hundred millions of dollars. The 
 vault is guarded day and night by four policemen spe- 
 cially detailed for that purpose. 
 
 The telegraph has very greatly simplified the busi-^ 
 ness of Wall street, and considerably lessened its 
 expense in one respect. Previous to the introduction 
 of the present system, the brokers were compelled to 
 employ numbers of messengers to carry news of the 
 transactions of the Exchange to their offices, and where 
 time was of importance large sums were spent in cab 
 hire. The introduction of the Stock Telegraph has 
 changed all this. Every broker's office, all the princi- 
 pal hotels, restaurants, and bar rooms now contain 
 an automatic recording instrument, connected by tele- 
 graph wires with the instruments in the various Boards 
 
344 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 at the Stock Exchange. The operatoi at the Exchange 
 registers the quotations as they are i/iade on his own 
 instrument, and instantly they are repeated on every 
 instrument in the city, the instruments printing the quo- 
 tations in plain Roman letters and figures on a narrow 
 ribbon of paper, where they can be easily read. 
 Almost by the time the transactions of the Exchange 
 are written down by the clerk at the blackboard they 
 are known at every point in the city where a recording 
 instrument is located. Thus both time and money are 
 jsaved by this ingenious invention. 
 
 The life of a stock broker is one of constant excite^ 
 7iient. Stocks go up and down so rapidly, so many 
 changes occur, that he must be continually on the alert, 
 watching the market eagerly, to take advantage of a 
 lucky rise, or to guard against the mishaps of an unex- 
 pected decline. It is a wearying, wearing existence, 
 and it is no wonder that in their amusements the 
 brokers should be rather boisterous, or that they 
 should seek to enliven the sometimes dull proceedings 
 of the Boards with a bit of fun. The 1 5th of September 
 h known as "White Hat Day," and is rigidly observed 
 at the Exchange. Woe to the unfortunate broker who 
 ventures to put in an appearance on that day with a 
 straw or summer hat. It is ruthlessly knocked from 
 his head, and the next moment the members are busy 
 playing football with it. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE CLEARING HOUSE. 
 
 The Clearing House Association occupies a hand- 
 some building, erected for its purposes, at No. 14 Pine 
 
WORK OF THE CLEARING HOUSE. 
 
 345 
 
 street, and owned by the Association. It is the medium 
 through which the city banks exchange the bills and 
 checks which each holds against all the others for "the 
 amount which all the others hold against it. The As- 
 sociation was organized in October, 1853, and now 
 numbers as members fifty-nine banks, representing a 
 capital of about $50,000,000. 
 
 The principal room is fitted up with handsome coun- 
 ters and desks for the officials. On the counters are 
 placed fifty-nine desks, one for each bank belonging 
 to the Association, each desk being marked with the 
 name of the bank to which it belongs. The desks all 
 contain fifty-nine pigeon-holes, each pigeon hole being 
 marked with the name of the bank whose checks it 
 contains. Each bank is represented by two clerks, one 
 of whom remains at the desk, receives all the checks 
 on his bank, and signs the name of his bank to the 
 sheet which the clerks of the other banks present to 
 him upon delivering his checks. The second clerk 
 goes from desk to desk, and leaves with the banks on 
 which they are drawn all the checks drawn upon them, 
 deposited in his own bank on the previous day, and 
 takes the receipts for the delivery of such checks. The 
 city, banks do not open their doors for business until 
 ten o'clock, but the clerks are required to be on duty 
 by eight, in order to arrange the checks collected on 
 the previous day for delivery at the Clearing House. 
 
 At ten minutes to ten the bank messengers enter, 
 and commence to take their places at the desks. As 
 they come into the hall they hand to an official on duty 
 at the door a paper containing the exact account of the 
 bank they represent. These statements are transferred 
 
346 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 to a sheet prepared for that purpose by the Clearing 
 House clerks, and must agree precisely with the checks 
 received inside before the Clearing House closes its 
 duties. If any error or discrepancy is discovered, the 
 bank at fault is at once informed by telegraph, and its 
 messenger is not permitted to leave the Clearing 
 House until the mistake is corrected. The Manager 
 of the establishment sits at a high desk on the side of 
 the room nearest his private office, from which he can 
 command a full view of all that is going on in the haik 
 At ten o'clock precisely he brings down his gavel, and 
 opens the work of the day. The most perfect order 
 and quiet are preserved. No loud talking or calling 
 is permitted. A late bank is fined two dollars. A 
 messenger violating any of the rules of the establish- 
 ment is fined the same sum, and is reported to his 
 bank. Should he repeat the offence he is expelled the 
 Clearing House. 
 
 ''The daily transactions of the Clearing House vary 
 from $65,000,000 to $100,000,000. The system is so 
 nicely balanced that three millions daily settle the dif- 
 ference. Each bank indebted to the Clearing Ho.us<& 
 must send in its check before half after one. Creditors 
 get the Clearing House check at the same hour. Daily 
 business is squared and all accounts closed at half 
 after three. Every bank in the city is connected with 
 the Clearing House by telegraph. The morning work 
 of clearing one hundred millions occupies ten minutes. 
 Long before the clerks can reach the bank, its officials 
 are acquainted with the exact state of their account, 
 and know what loans to grant or refuse. Through 
 the Clearing House each bank is connected with every 
 
ENORMOUS FINANCIAL TRANSACTIONS, 
 
 347 
 
 other in the city. If a doubtful check is presented, if 
 paper, to be negotiated* is not exactly clear, while the 
 party offering the paper or check is entertained by some 
 member of the bank, the telegraph is making minute 
 inquiries about his financial standing. Before the con- 
 ference closes, the bank knows the exact facts of the 
 case." 
 
 The amount of the transactions of the Clearing 
 House on the day it opened, October nth, 1853, was 
 $23,938,682.25, Its total annual transactions now 
 amount to about $24,000,000,000. The largest amount 
 for any one day since the organization, was $206,034, 
 920.50, on November 17th, 1869. The largest balance 
 paid to any bank was $10,585,471.31, on November 
 1 7th, 1869, and the largest balance paid to the Clearing 
 House by any bank was $4,774,039.59, on the 5th of 
 April, 1872. The operations of this Clearing House 
 amount to over 65 per cent, of the total exchanges of 
 the twenty-three Clearing Houses of the United States, 
 and thus represent, to a certain extent, the magnitude 
 of the daily business of the country at large. It is the 
 boast of the Association that in spite of its enormous 
 transactions, "no error or difference of any kind exists 
 in any of its records;" and no bank belonging to the 
 Association has "sustained any loss by the failure of any 
 bank or otherwise while a member." 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE CURBSTONE BROKERS. 
 
 If the operations of Wall street were confined to the 
 dealings of the members of the Regular Boards of the 
 Stock Exchange, the business of the street would be 
 
348 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 always conducted legitimately and safely. But a large 
 portion of these operations is in the hands of an en- 
 tirely different set of men. The transactions of the 
 Long Room far exceed those of the Regular Boards, 
 and, as has been said, these are governed by no fixed 
 laws. Men must look out for themselves when dealing 
 with the frequenters of this room. Still another class 
 of operators exist. These cannot obtain admission 
 to either the Exchange or the Long Room, and so they 
 crowd about the doors of the Exchange, fill the side- 
 walks, and overflow into the street. They require 
 neither office nor capital for their operations. They 
 do business in the open air, and carry their capital in 
 their heads, or in their pocket-books. They are known 
 as " Curbstone Brokers," and are among the sharpest 
 and most unscrupulous operators on the street. The 
 only law that binds them in their dealings is that of 
 " honor among thieves," and they are often oblivious 
 to that obligation. So numerous are they, and so ex- 
 tensive and far-reaching are their operations, that in 
 times of excitement and distrust the combined power 
 of the Long Room and the Curbstone has made even 
 the Regular Boards tremble. They are men of the 
 coolest effrontery, and of the most unflinching nerve. 
 They know that fortune is even more fickle on the 
 Curbstone than in the gorgeous Exchange, and they 
 are always on the alert to profit by every chance that 
 comes in their way. They are gamblers, pure and un~ 
 defiled, and are merciless toward those who fall into 
 their clutches. They have nothing to lose, and every- 
 thing to gain ; and as for compelling them to stand by 
 an unfavorable contract, why, he would be a wise man 
 
RECKLESS SPECULATION IN STOCKS. 
 
 34^ 
 
 indeed who could discover the means of accompHshing; 
 this feat. It is said that the daily operations of the 
 Long Room sometimes reach the startling figure of 
 ^70,000,000, but there is no means of ascertaining the 
 amount of the dealinors of the Curbstone. That it is> 
 
 o 
 
 enormous, there can be no doubt. 
 
 V. 
 
 SPECULATIONS IN STOCKS. 
 
 In former years Wall street did a strictly legitimate 
 business. Stocks were bought and sold on commis- 
 )sion, and the broker was satisfied with his percentage 
 on his transactions. He took no risk, and was in no 
 danger of losing anything. Now-a-days a different 
 /State of affairs prevails. So great is the race for 
 wealth, that many reputable houses not only buy and 
 jiell on commission, but speculate largely on their own 
 account, taking all the chances of profit and loss. 
 With such houses all is uncertainty. They may, by 
 Wcky ventures, reap large gains, but they are liable all 
 the while to the losses caused by an unfavorable mar- 
 ket, or a sudden crash in the securities they are oper- 
 ating in. No firm that does not confine itself strictly 
 to a commission business can tell exactly from day to 
 day where it stands. It is at the mercy of the market, 
 and though prosperous at the opening of the day, the 
 close may find it bankrupt. 
 
 The mania for speculation in stocks may be said to 
 date from the close of the war. Then everything was 
 in the flush tide of prosperity. Money was plentiful, 
 and easy to be had, and men were led to engage in 
 speculative ventures who, in former years, would have 
 
S50 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 laughed to scorn the idea of their taking such risks. 
 The petroleum discoveries added fuel to the passion for 
 stock gambling. Securities of all kinds were dealt in 
 with a recklessness that made the wiser heads of the 
 street tremble for the future of the country. It was 
 useless to offer advice, however. A. had amassed a 
 fortune by some lucky speculation in Wall street, and 
 B. was sure that he would be equally fortunate. What 
 money he could raise was devoted to stock gambling. 
 Often these ventures were successful, but very fre- 
 quently they resulted in loss. Since those days the 
 evil has grown, and has spread throughout the country. 
 Men and women in all parts of the Union have their 
 brokers in New York, who operate for them in their 
 favorite stocks. Everybody longs for speedy and great 
 wealth, and it seems so easy to find it in Wall street. 
 Many win in the golden game, but many more lose 
 their all. Nine out of ten who thus risk their money 
 are ignorant of the street and its ways, and rely simply 
 on the good faith and sound judgment of their brokers. 
 But even if the broker is a model of honesty and busi- 
 ness capacity, he cannot command success for his 
 clients ; he and they must take the chances of the 
 market. They are playing an uncertain game. A 
 sudden rise in the market may bring them wealth, or 
 an unexpected depression may consign them to pov- 
 erty. The only safe way for those who wish to get 
 money is to keep out of Wall street, and seek a more 
 legitimate and slower way of becoming rich. But, alas, 
 like other forms of gambling, stock gambling holds its 
 victims with a fearful power. They lose once, and 
 venture again, but think that there must surely be a 
 
FORTUNES IN WALL STREET. 
 
 351 
 
 turn in the tide, and so they go on until they have 
 nothing more to risk. 
 
 If fortunes are quickly made in Wall street they are 
 Jost there with even greater rapidity. You may see 
 men in rags, so wretched that the Police Station is 
 their lodging and the bread of charity their only sub- 
 sistence, hanging about their old haunts in the street, 
 watching the operators with wistful eyes, who were 
 once high in the favor of the Exchange, and possessed 
 of wealth and good commercial standing. They were 
 ruined by stock gambling. Once they had palatial 
 mansions on Fifth avenue, and were the favorites of 
 fortune. Now they have no future, no hope. They 
 have not the moral courage, even if they had the oppor- 
 tunity, to seek to regain their former positions. They 
 have fallen never to rise again. 
 
 The best and most reputable firms in the street 
 never speculate on their own account. They buy and. 
 sell on commission, and their only speculative dealings 
 are for their customers. They take care in such casea 
 to be protected by liberal "margins," which secure*, 
 them against all possibility' of loss. 
 
 All sorts of people come into the street to tempt 
 fortune, and the brokers could tell some queer tales of 
 their customers did they see fit to do so. When a 
 person wishes to speculate in stocks, it is not necessary 
 for him to buy the securities outright, though that is 
 by far the safer way in dealing with first-class stocks. 
 If he can satisfy the broker that he is a responsible 
 person, he will be allowed to begin operations by pay- 
 ing down only ten per cent, of the value of the securities 
 he wishes to deal in. Thus with $1000 he may buy 
 
352 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 1 0,000 worth of stocks. This percentage is called a 
 margin, and the deposit of it is required to protect the 
 broker from loss in case the stock should fall in value. 
 If the stock advances the broker sells, and his customer 
 makes a profit, out of which he must pay the broker his 
 commission; if, however, the stock depreciates in value, 
 the customer must either sell out at once, and bear the 
 loss that attends the decline, or he must increase his 
 margin to an extent sufficient to protect his broker 
 should he decide to hold the security in hope of a turn 
 of the market. 
 
 Of late years the control of the stock market has 
 become centred in the hands of a few capitalists of 
 enormous wealth. They move the market as they 
 please, and their combined efforts will send stocks up 
 or down, as they wish. They could ruin the whole street 
 should they see fit to do so. That, however, would not 
 be to their interest, so they content themselves with 
 less sweeping operations, and on great "field days" in 
 Wall street they fill their coffers remorselessly, at the 
 expense of the smaller operators, scores of whom they 
 coolly consign to ruin. Consequently these great oper- 
 ators are the objects of the most cordial hatred of the 
 brokers in the street. 
 
 VI. 
 
 STOCK SWINDLERS. 
 
 If Wall street is the home of legitimate and honor- 
 able enterprises, it is also a chosen centre from which 
 the worst of swindlers conduct their operations. From 
 time to time advertisements appear in the city dailies 
 and in the newspapers throughout the Union, announc- 
 
BOGUS STOCK CIRCULARS. 
 
 353 
 
 ing that such and such a firm, the name of which is 
 given, is prepared to receive small orders for the pur- 
 chase and sale of stocks on the "Combination Sys- 
 tem," and guaranteeing large profits to all persons 
 sending the firm their orders accompanied with remit- 
 tances of from $io upward. These firms announce 
 that they have peculiar facilities for operating in the 
 stock market, and that their system is so nicely ar- 
 ranged that persons entrusting them with their orders 
 ^annot fail to receive a large return upon their invest- 
 ments. Money may be sent by express, or by postal 
 order or registered letter. 
 
 • The country is flooded with these advertisements. 
 The religious press teems with them, and not long since 
 several of the leading religious weeklies warmly en- 
 dorsed a combination scheme, and commended it to 
 their subscribers. This particular scheme turned out 
 to be one of the most barefaced swindles ever attempted 
 in New York, and was broken up by the refusal of the 
 postal authorities of the United States to allow its pro- 
 prietors to use the mails for their nefarious business. 
 It was proven that the names appended to the adver- 
 tisements were bogus, and that all the various schemes 
 of the kind at that time in operation in New York 
 were owned and operated by one man; that no actual 
 operations of any kind were conducted by him in the 
 stock market, and that he coolly pocketed all the remit- 
 tances sent to him, without any intention of making a 
 return of any description to the senders. 
 
 These advertisements do their work well. There 
 are always men and women ready to be caught by 
 cheap promises of sudden wealth, or handsome profits 
 
 23 
 
354 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 on small investments. From all parts of the Union 
 money is sent to the bogus bankers, who pocket it, and 
 laugh at the innocence of their victims. Their mails 
 are among the largest received at the New York Post 
 Office, and every letter contains a remittance. 
 
 A little more than a year ago the attention of the 
 postal authorities of New York was called to the opera- 
 tions of the bogus bankers. The matter was referred 
 to the Postmaster General at Washington, and a spe- 
 cial agent was detailed to investigate it, and in his efforts 
 he was cordially assisted by the officials of the New 
 York Stock Exchange, who were anxious to break up 
 the infamous business. The investigations of the 
 agent were directed towards several firms doing busi- 
 ness under the following names: "Lawrence & Co.," 
 19 Broad street; "Adams, Brown & Co.," 28 Broad 
 street; "Allen, Jordan & Co.," 54 Wall street; and 
 "Barnes, Gibson & Co.," 11 Broad street and 55 Ex- 
 change Place. The investigation was thorough and 
 satisfactory, and resulted in obtaining such conclusive 
 evidence that the Postmaster General issued an order 
 forbidding the Postmaster at New York to pay postal 
 orders or to deliver registered letters to any of these 
 firms. 
 
 It was ascertained by the special agent that all of the 
 above named firms were bogus, and that they were all 
 the property of one man, whom we shall term the pro- 
 prietor, who had obtained control of them by recording, 
 under the laws of the State of New York, fictitious 
 articles of partnership. In order to carry on the busi- 
 ness, he made an arrangement with two men, who were, 
 to assume the direct management of the various firms. 
 
HOW STOCK SWINDLES ARE CONDUCTED. 355 
 
 They agreed to pay the proprietor the sum of $12,500 
 a month, or $150,000 per annum, for the net receipts 
 of the single firm of Lawrence & Co.," and an equal 
 amount for the privilege of transacting business under 
 two of the other bogus firm names. The interests of 
 the proprietor were guarded by his having confidential 
 agents to be present at the opening of the letters con- 
 taininof remittances. These letters came in at such a 
 rate as to make the profits of "Lawrence & Co." 
 alone, for nine months, from March ist to December 
 1st, 1879, from $17,500 to $20,000 per month, after 
 paying all expenses, inclusive of ver}^ extensive adver- 
 tising, and salaries of $100 a week to each of the two 
 men employed by the proprietor. The profits of the 
 other bogus firms were in proportion. 
 
 Now, this is no exaggerated story. The facts are 
 given as stated by the special agent of the Post Oillice 
 Department ; they are known to the Post Office au- 
 thorities at Washington and New York, and to the 
 officials of the New York Stock Exchange, who can 
 vouch for their truthfulness. 
 
 Schemes of this kind appear from time to time. 
 The authorities discover them, and break them up, but 
 in a little while others, under new names, take their 
 places, and when investigated, are generally found to 
 be in the hands of the old offenders. 
 
 The manner in which these bogus bankers, stock 
 swindlers, or whatever one may choose to term them, 
 conduct their operations, is very simple. They send 
 out their advertisements, which appear in thousands 
 of newspapers throughout the Union. Thousands of 
 foolish people are attracted by them, and either at once 
 
356 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 send their remittances, or write for further informa- 
 tion. In return, circulars are sent to parties making 
 inquiry, setting forth the merits of the " Combination 
 Scheme,*' and showing how even so small a sum as ten 
 dollars can be used to advantage in the great oper- 
 ations of Wall street. "By combining your money with 
 somebody else's," says the circular, " the probabilities 
 of profit are far greater than by any other system, 
 while the risk is diminished to the very lowest point 
 and limited to the amount invested. Each customer 
 has exact justice, and at the same time obtains all the 
 advantages of the largest capitalist. By the combina- 
 tion system we concentrate our whole energies and 
 capital on the most attractive stocks; keep the market 
 well in hand ; buy and sell at any hour ; make quick 
 turns ; cover sales ; and, above all, succeed, when 
 others fail, from force of circumstances." 
 
 To the man or woman bent on making a successful 
 venture in stocks, this seems perfectly clear, honest 
 and above-board. The money is sent, and the return 
 mail brings the sender a certificate of ownership of so 
 many shares of stock in the " Combination Scheme." 
 The firm promises to make a weekly report of its 
 operations, and at the end of one month to close the 
 combination and divide its profits, pro-rata, among the 
 shareholders. It expressly stipulates, however, that 
 no part of the profits or capital shall be withdrawn 
 until the close of the combination. The certificate is 
 accompanied by a pamphlet, containing testimonials 
 (all bogus) from persons who have been benefited by 
 the system; some showing how the writers have been 
 saved from financial ruin by the investment of one 
 
THE BUBBLE BURSTS. 
 
 357 
 
 hundred dollars in the combined scheme, and all tes- 
 tifying their delight at the immense profits realized 
 from small investments, and thanking the firm for the 
 fair and honorable way in which they have been 
 treated. 
 
 In about a week or ten days a printed report is re- 
 ceived by the certificate-holder, showing a handsome 
 profit on the first week's transactions — the profit being 
 generally about twenty-five per cent. The innocent 
 victim is delighted. Surely he is on the royal road to 
 wealth at last. Another week passes, and a second 
 report is received, showing that the fortunate investor 
 has gained fifty per cent, on his investment. This re- 
 port is accompanied by a letter or circular, setting forth 
 the merits of a new combination scheme, just forming, 
 and urging the victim to send one hundred dollars, or 
 as much as he feels justified in risking, in order to par- 
 ticipate in its benefits. A large percentage of those 
 receiving such circulars, delighted with the reports of 
 their first venture, make a second investment. The 
 third week arrives, and with it comes another letter, or 
 circular, from the managers of the combined scheme. 
 The victim opens it exultingly, but he has not read 
 much of the communication before his hair begins to 
 stand on end. The managers inform him, "with great 
 regret," that they have no profits to report this week ; 
 that owing to the ''unprecedented haste that had 
 marked the efforts of a large number of sniall specu- 
 lators to get rid of their holdings," the market had be- 
 come completely demoralized, and the great operators 
 bewildered. "A decline had been precipitated," they 
 add, "that obliged us to make great personal sacri- 
 
358 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 fices, in order to protect our patrons ; and, although- 
 we have lived through the storm, we were obliged, 
 most reluctantly, to witness the destruction of many a 
 well-conceived and judiciously-executed combination." 
 
 The victim is now seriously alarmed, not only for the 
 fate of his first investment and its fifty per cent, profits, 
 but also for the second, from which he has, as yet, 
 heard nothing. He sits down and writes to the mana- 
 gers, directing them to close his account, and forward 
 liim the amount sent them, with the profits to date, less 
 their percentage. In reply he receives a few curt 
 lines, calling his attention to the "contract" they sent 
 him at the time they received his money, wherein it was 
 stated that "no part of profits or original capital is to 
 be withdrawn until the close of the combination." In 
 other words, he is bluntly told that he has no control 
 over the investment. For the next week the victim 
 lives in suspense. Then comes the end. A circular is 
 received from the managers, announcing the failure of 
 the combination and the loss of all the money and all 
 the profits. A melancholy preface alludes to a das- 
 tardly conspiracy headed by Jay Gould and some other 
 well known speculators, which had so knocked the 
 market to pieces that thousands had been ruined. In 
 spite of their best efforts, say the managers, the com- 
 bination has gone down with the rest, and they have 
 suffered terrible losses themselves. "Trusting to 
 appearances," they continue, "well calculated to deceive 
 the most experienced veteran on 'change,' we, unfortu- 
 nately, were caught in the same dreadful storm that 
 has proved so fatal to many of the best known men on 
 the street." 
 
A WARNING TO PETTY STOCK GAMBLERS. 
 
 359 
 
 It is all over, the investor's dreams of wealth are 
 rudely broken, and he must get over his disappoint- 
 ment the best wa)' he can. This is not the end of it, 
 however. In a few days he receives a letter from the 
 managers asking another investment, and promising a 
 return in thirty days that will more than compensate 
 him for his previous loss. Strange to say, so ratal is 
 the influence of stock gambling, thousands respond to 
 this impudent request, and send their money, to be 
 H swindled a second time. 
 
 Pamphlets, circulars, and other publications are sent 
 out through the country by the bogus bankers ; the 
 mails are burdened with tons of this matter, which is 
 scattered broadcast throughout the land. Clergymen, 
 country merchants, lawyers, mechanics, everybody who 
 is supposed to be able to raise ten dollars, are plied 
 with these printed appeals to try the wonderful combi^ 
 nation system, and thousands from all parts of the 
 country respond. None of these dupes ever receive a 
 cent either of the money invested or of profits. They 
 are simply fleeced. It is strange, but true, that men 
 who in ordinary business transactions are regarded as 
 sharp and shrewd, and not easily taken in, yield by 
 thousands to the temptations of the stock swindlers, 
 and risk their money as readily as the veriest green- 
 horn that ever lived. 
 
 Be warned, O! reader of these pages. What we 
 have written is true, and carries its moral with it If 
 you want money, 2uork for it. Keep out of Wall 
 street, and have nothing to do with bankers and bro- 
 kers who send you circulars and solicit your patron- 
 age in combination or other ventures. 
 
360 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ALONG THE WHARVES. 
 tmarcHBo charactbr o"f the wharves— plan for a new system — the north nmat 
 
 FRONT — THE RAILROAD PIERS— THE FERRY HOUSES — THE FOREIGN STEAMSHIPS — TH« 
 FLOATING PALACES OF THE HUDSON AND LONG ISLAND SOUND — THE BETHEL — THE BOAT 
 STORES — THR GRAIN ELEVATORS — THE EAST RIVER FRONT — SAILING VESSELS — THE SHIP 
 - - YARDS — THE DRY DOCKS — THE CANAL BOATS — SCENES ON BOARD — THE FRUIT TRADE — THE 
 FISH MARKET — SCENES ALONG THE WHARVES — ACCIDENTS— THE RESCUE STATIONS — THE 
 VOLUNTEER LIFE-SAVING CORPS—" NAN, THE LIFE SAVER." 
 
 To the stranger the shores of the North and East 
 Rivers present one of the most attractive scenes to be 
 witnessed in the city. The wharves extend, in an un- 
 broken line, along almost the entire water front of the 
 city. They are, as a rule, wretched-looking piers of 
 wood, thrown out into the water, and covered over 
 with dilapidated sheds. The ferry-houses and the 
 sheds of the great railway and steamship lines are well 
 built, and often handsome structures, but they are the 
 only respectable-looking buildings along the shore. It 
 is hoped that at some future day the present system 
 of piers will be replaced with substantial and handsome 
 structures of granite and iron, which will enable New 
 York to compete favorably with Liverpool and its 
 other great rivals of Europe. 
 
 Beginning at the Battery, the North River front is 
 taken up for some distance with the piers of the Penn- 
 sylvania Railroad, and several lines of steamers plying 
 to ports on the coast of the United States. Above 
 these are the ferry-houses of the New Jersey Central 
 ^nd the Pennsylvania Railroads, and at intervals higher 
 
i 
 
OCEAN STEAMSHIPS. 
 
 361 
 
 up the river are other piers and the up-town ferry of 
 the Pennsylvania road, the Pavonia and Erie Railroad 
 ferry, the ferries to Hoboken and \V eehawken, and the 
 freight piers of the other lines of railroads terminating 
 in Jersey City. All the great traffic and travel between 
 New York and the South, and a large part of that to 
 and from the West, enter and leave the city by the 
 North River front. The foreign steamships lie thickly 
 along this portion of the river. Here are the great 
 floating palaces of the Pacific Mail Company, the In- 
 
 man, White Star, National, State, Cunard, Anchor, and 
 Guion lines, which are constantly arriving and depart- 
 ing, bringing thousands of tourists and emigrants, and 
 rich cargoes from far-off lands. " European steamers 
 leave and arrive at the port of New York daily, some- 
 times half a dozen in a single day ; and in addition to 
 these great ships that ply over tlie ocean ferry to Eu- 
 
 i 
 
 « 
 
362 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 rope, there are lines to South and Central America, 
 /the West Indies, the Windward Islands, to Florida, 
 New Orleans, Texas, Mexico, Cuba, and various other 
 foreign and domestic destinations. An ocean steamer 
 is a vast floating hotel, where rich and poor find ac- 
 commodations suited to their means and their tastes. 
 When one of these great vessels, decked with flags, 
 and crowded with people on its decks waving hand- 
 kerchiefs to their friends ashore, moves out of the 
 dock, it is one of the most striking and suggestive 
 scenes to be witnessed on the water front of the city. 
 The scenes consequent on the arrival of an ocean 
 steamer have also their interesting phases, often mixed 
 with a dash of the ludicrous, which grow out of the in- 
 spection of baggage by the Custom House officials/* 
 
 The great steamers which ply the Hudson and navi- 
 gate Long Island Sound also have their wharves on 
 the North River. These are the most magnificent 
 vessels afloat, are fitted up with the greatest luxuriance 
 and comfort, and well merit the name of floating pal- 
 aces. The grand saloon of these steamers extends the 
 whole length of the boat, and is two stories in height. 
 Massive columns support the roof, and around the 
 entire saloon runs a broad gallery upon which the up- 
 per tier state rooms open. The rooms are cozily fur- 
 nished, and nothing that can contribute to the comfort 
 of the passengers is neglected. Some of the boats 
 are now provided with the electric light, and present a 
 brilliant spectacle as they glide along at night over the 
 dark waters of the river or sound. The table is pro- 
 vided with every luxury and delicacy of the season. 
 The only drawback to these steamers is the constant 
 
 $ 
 
364 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 presence of numbers of women of ill fame, who make 
 their homes on the boats, and boldly ply their infamous 
 trade with men as shameless as themselves. These 
 steamers cost immense sums, the price ranging from 
 half a million to a million and a quarter of dollars. A 
 night trip on one of these floating palaces is an expe- 
 rience never to be forgotten. 
 
 Right in among the shipping nestles the Bethel, or 
 floating chapel for sailors, a neat little structure, with 
 seats for several hundred persons. 
 
 Above Canal street the ice companies, whose houses 
 are located along the upper Hudson, have their depots. 
 The ice is brought down the river in barges, and dis- 
 tributed to city customers from this point. 
 
 In the neighborhood of Christopher street are the 
 ^'boat stores," curious looking floating edifices devoted 
 mainly to the sale of oysters and fish. They constitute 
 one of the most singular and characteristic features of 
 the river front, and carry on a busy trade. 
 
 At the foot of 54th street the telegraph lines which 
 connect New York with New Jersey and the States 
 beyond it are carried down to the river. The wires 
 are enclosed in cables which rest upon the bed of the 
 river. They reach the Jersey shore in the neighbor- 
 hood of the Elysian Fields, in Hoboken. 
 
 Higher up the river are the grain elevators and 
 docks of the New York Central Railroad, beyond which 
 are the headquarters of the oil trade. 
 
 The East River front is devoted chiefly to sailing 
 vessels, the California clippers, the great Indiamen, and 
 the small craft that trade between the city and New 
 England by way of Long Island Sound. Here also 
 
CANAL BOAT HEADQUARTERS. 365 
 
 are the wharves of several lines of steamers running 
 to points on the Sound, and the ferries to Brooklyn, 
 Williamsburgh, and Long Island City. Several large 
 ship yards, prominent among which is the establish- 
 ment of John Roach, and a number of floating docks, 
 lie along the upper part of the East River, and high 
 over all rises the huge structure of the Brooklyn bridge. 
 At the southern end of the East River front are the 
 headquarters of the canal boats, "which receive the 
 freight of the Erie Canal, and the locality is so decep- 
 tive that a stranger would never suspect the immense 
 commerce which belongs to it. The turtle-like crafts, 
 painted generally in the most grotesquely glaring col- 
 ors, are so closely moored together that one can easily 
 walk across them from wharf to wharf Men, women, 
 and mayhap children, may be seen from time to time 
 on their decks, and strings of family washing flutter in 
 the breeze, like ships' bunting. Here and there we 
 may also see lace curtains at the windows, and flowers 
 peeping from behind — in a word, all the signs of pleas- 
 ant domesticity. If we could see through the decks, 
 we should probably find the stern divided into three or 
 four compartments, provided with all the comforts foi 
 a small family, even to parlor organs and sewing ma- 
 chines. The canal boatmen have their homes on boardi 
 these vessels, and oftentimes show no little taste in fit- 
 ting them up." 
 
 In the neighborhood of the Wall street ferry is the 
 headquarters of the foreign fruit trade, and here are 
 vast stores of the richest and most luscious productions 
 of the tropics; lemons, oranges, dates, figs, bananas, 
 grapes, and nuts of every description, for which the 
 
366 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Metropolis furnishes a profitable market. At the foot 
 of Fulton street is the great Brooklyn Ferry, and the 
 Brooklyn Market, and adjoining the ferry is the Fulton 
 Fish Market, where dozens of small craft are discharg- 
 ing their finny cargoes. 
 
 Both river fronts present a busy and bustling scene. 
 The streets are thronged with heavily laden wagons 
 and trucks, and at the wharves gangs of stevedores are 
 busy loading and unloading vessels. The noise and 
 confusion are very great, and it is difficult for pedes- 
 trians to cross the streets. 
 
 Accidents are very common along the river shore, 
 especially cases of drowning. As a means of rendering 
 assistance at such times, rescue stations have been 
 established at various points along the docks, and in 
 each ferry house. Ladders of a sufficient length to 
 reach from the pier to the water at low tide, boat hooks 
 attached to long poles, life preservers, floats and coils 
 of rope, are placed at these stations, together with a 
 printed code of rules for their use, and instructions 
 for the treatment of persons rescued from drowning. 
 Each station is under the charge of the policeman 
 stationed on the beat in which it is located, and in the 
 absence of a superior officer it is his duty to take 
 charge of all attempts at rescue and to render all the 
 assistance in his power on such occasions. In case of 
 accident, any one may use the materials of the station, 
 but interfering with or removing them at other times 
 is punishable by law. These stations have been of the 
 greatest service since their establishment. 
 
 One of the most efficient forces engaged in the work 
 of saving life along the water front of the city is the 
 
NAN, THE LIFE-SAVER. 
 
 367 
 
 "Volunteer Life Saving Corps," consisting of three 
 boys, headed by WilHam O'Neill, better known as 
 Nan, the Newsboy," or "Nan, the Life Saver;" the 
 other two are named Gilbert Long and Edward Kelly. 
 These three young heroes began their good work in 
 the summer of 1878. At that time Nan was twenty 
 years old, and Long and Kelly about eighteen. Having 
 heard a great deal of the many lives lost by falling or 
 jumping off the wharves, they resolved to start a life 
 saving corps, and quietly went to work. They fitted 
 themselves out with the necessary apparatus, rude, it 
 is true, but effective, and after their labors of the day 
 were over, devoted themselves to patrolling the East 
 and North River fronts, from Grand street on the East 
 River to Pier 28 on the North River, taking in seventy- 
 one piers in all. They went on duty at seven o'clock, 
 and continued their rounds until half-past ten or eleven. 
 They received no public encouragement, no assistance*, 
 of any kind from any quarter, but within six month/i 
 from the date of their organization they saved twenty 
 five lives, some of them at the risk of their own. Only 
 the policemen, whom they encountered in their rounds, 
 knew of their noble work. Often they met with the 
 blackest ingratitude from those whom they rescued. 
 They did not hesitate to plunge into the river in tht 
 darkest nights, or to brave any danger, in their self-ap> 
 pointed task. Two years ago Captain Paul Boy ton 
 became much interested in Nan and his companions, 
 and brought them before the public. Since then assist- 
 ance has been rendered to the young braves, and they 
 have been enabled to prosecute their work in a more 
 thorough manner. 
 
368 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE MUNICIPAL POLICE FORCE. 
 
 OKIGIN OF THB NEW YORK POLICE FORCE— THE OLD TIME POLICEMEN — " OLD HATBS 
 
 INCREASE OF CRIME— GEORGE W. MATSELL — THE FIRST REGULAR POLICE FORCE — OPPOSITIOM 
 
 TO IT THE METROPOLITAN POLICE FORCE ORGANIZED THE MUNICIPAL POLICE POLICH 
 
 HEADQUARTERS — THE COMMISSIONERS — SUPERINTENDENT WALLING — THE SUBOKDINATB 
 OFFICERS — THE PATROLMEN — QUALIFICATIONS OF A POLICEMAN — THE BROADWAV SQUAD — 
 DUTIES OF THE FORCE — OMNIPRESENCE OF THE POLICE — POWER OVER THE ROUGHS DAN- 
 GERS OF A policeman's LIFE — DARING EXPLOITS OF CAPTAINS WILLIAMS AND ALLAIRE 
 
 FIGHTING A MOB — FEAR OF THE " LOCUSTS " — UNIFORM OF THE FORCE HOW THB CITY IS 
 
 PATROLLED — HOURS OF DUTY — A SINGULAR POLICEMAN — HOW PETE JOINED THB FORCE 
 
 HIS SERVICES — ARRESTS — THE STATION HOUSES — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS — THB " BUM- 
 MERS* ROOMS "—HOW VAGRANTS ARE LODGED— THE SERGEANT IN CHARGE — A NIGHT IN A 
 
 POLICE STATION — A FEMALE TRAMP — " DRUNK AND DISORDERLY — A CASE OF DISTRESS A 
 
 FRUITLESS ERRAND— A NEW WAY TO GET HOME AT NIGHT — SEARCH FOR A MISSING HUSBAND 
 — A POLITICAL ROW — YOUNG BLOODS ON A LARK — COSTLY FUN — A WOULD-BK-SUICIDE — 
 BROUGHT BACK FROM THE GRAVE — A JOLLY TRAMP — A GHASTLY SPECTACLE — MA3KBRS IN A 
 
 STATION HOUSE THE MOUNTED POLICE A SENSIBLE HORSE — THE HARBOR POLICM— A HARD 
 
 LIFE — PROVISION FOR DISABLED POLICEMEN AND THEIR FAMILIES. 
 
 In the year 1658 Peter Stuyvesant was Governor 
 of New Amsterdam, and the town had attained con- 
 siderable proportions. The portly burghers, careful 
 for the safety of their lives and property, came to the 
 conclusion that it was dangerous to leave the town 
 unguarded at night, and so in that year a night v/atch 
 of eight men was organized, properly armed, and 
 provided with formidable looking rattles. This was the 
 origin of the splendid force of which New York is now 
 so justly proud. When the English came, in 1 676, they 
 changed the name of the town to New York, and also 
 made a material change in the night watch. They 
 required all able-bodied citizens to keep watch by turns, 
 and punished a disregard of this duty by a fine. These 
 citizens were required to provide themselves with good 
 muskets and six rounds of ammunition. The head- 
 
THE FIRST POLICEMEN. 
 
 369 
 
 quarters of the watch were at the Town Hall, then 
 located at Coenties Slip, and in the basement of this 
 building cells were provided for the prisoners arrested. 
 These were few in number, however, being mostly 
 unruly negro slaves and drunken sailors from the ships 
 in the harbor. New York was a very orderly town at 
 that time, and the citizens gave the Night Watch but 
 very little trouble. In 1697 a regular watch of "four 
 good and honest inhabitants of the city" was appointed 
 to patrol the streets by night. Each was provided 
 with a bell, and was required to call out the hours of the 
 night and the state of the weather. During the British 
 occupation of the city, in the war of Independence, 
 military patrols kept the streets at night, extending as 
 far up the Island as the present line of 14th street. 
 After the close of the war a patrol of civilians was 
 appointed. They were generally men who pursued 
 some humble and laborious occupation during the day/ 
 and watched on alternate nights, a good part of v/hich 
 they spent in dozing on their posts. They also called 
 the hour for many years. They wore a leather hat 
 with a wide brim, something like a fireman's hat and 
 this won for them the name of "Leatherheads." Their 
 only badge of office was a stout club about 33 inches 
 long. 
 
 During all this time the city had no day police. The 
 first guardian of the peace by daylight was the High 
 Constable, Jacob Hayes, generally known as "Old 
 Hayes," who came into office more than forty years ago. 
 His exploits were regarded as something wonderful by 
 the New Yorkers of his time, though to the average 
 policeman or detective of to-day they are simple 
 
 24 
 
370 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 enough. Yet, though he was a terror to evil doers, he 
 was but one man against many, and even his zealous 
 efforts could not keep the ruffianly class in order. 
 
 In 1840 New York had a population of about 
 400,000, and it was in the enjoyment of a commercial 
 prosperity that then seemed marvelous. The lack of 
 a police force was keenly felt. Crime was rampant, 
 and in certain districts of the city respectable persons 
 walking along the street were insulted, robbed, and 
 beaten in open daylight, by gangs of ruffians who in- 
 iested these quarters. At night the streets were abso- 
 lutely unsafe. Burglaries and murders were of almost 
 nightly occurrence. So bad did this state of affairs 
 become, that the citizens with one accord declared that 
 New York must be provided with a proper police 
 force. 
 
 One of the four police justices of the city at this 
 ''time was George W. Matsell, a young man of high 
 character and great energy. He at once applied him- 
 self to the task of providing a proper force. He 
 selected half a dozen good men, and placing himself 
 .at*their head, nightly patrolled the wealthier districts, 
 where burglaries were the most frequent. In a short 
 time he was authorized by the other justices to increase 
 his force, and a number of squads were organized and 
 placed under the command of picked men, one of 
 whom was the present superintendent of the force, 
 George W. Walling. The force was regularly uni- 
 formed, and with Matsell at its head did good work. 
 Mayor Harper lent it a vigorous support, but the uni- 
 form, which was copied from that of the London 
 police, gave great offence to the Irish, who were very 
 
THE METROPOLITAN POLICE. 
 
 371 
 
 numerous then, as now, in the city, and the police 
 encountered a stubborn resistance, which assumed its 
 greatest proportions in the troubles at the burning of 
 the Bowery Theatre. This brought matters to a crisis, 
 and the Legislature of the State passed a law in March, 
 1 844, abolishing the old night watch and organizing a 
 regular police force, which was not to exceed nine hun- 
 dred members. The city was divided into separate patrol 
 districts, station-houses were provided, and the police 
 force was systematically organized. In the spring of 
 1 845 Mayor Havermeyer appointed Mr. Matsell Chief 
 of Police, and from the first the force began to give a 
 good account of itself, although its usefulness was sadly 
 hampered by political influence, which has ever since 
 been its curse. In 1857 a change was made. The 
 Legislature consolidated New York, Brooklyn, West- 
 chester, King and Richmond (Staten Island) counties 
 into a Metropolitan police district. This district was 
 under the control of a Board of Commissioners, seven 
 in number, including the Mayors of New York and 
 Brooklyn, who were ex-officio members. The consoli- 
 dated force was under the command of a superintend 
 dent with headquarters in New York. The first super- 
 intendent under this law was John A. Kennedy. In 
 i860 the law was considerably modified, and the num- 
 ber of the commissioners was reduced to three. Super- 
 intendent Kennedy raised the efficiency of the Metro- 
 politan Police to a high state. During the terrible 
 "Draft Riots" of 1863 the magnificent courage with 
 which the police held the city against the mob won 
 them a proud and lasting reputation. Three days of 
 incessant fighting proved them to be men who could 
 be relied upon in the most trying emergency. 
 
872 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The charter of 1870 abolished the Metropolitan dis* 
 trict so far as New York was concerned, and provided 
 for the creation of a Municipal Police. All the old 
 force doing duty in New York was retained, and the 
 organization was placed under the control of four Com- 
 missioners, appointed by the Mayor with the consent 
 of the Board of Aldermen. The command of the 
 force was vested in a superintendent. This is the 
 present police force of New York. 
 
 The Police Headquarters of New York are located 
 in Mulberry street, between Houston and Bleecker 
 street. This is known as "The Central Office." The 
 building is a handsome structure of white marble, and 
 extends through the block to Mott street, the front 
 on that street being of pressed brick, with white 
 marble trimmings. The entire building is elegantly 
 fitted up, and is provided with every convenience for 
 the prompt and proper discharge of the duties of the 
 officials located within it. Here are the offices of the 
 Commissioners and their clerks, the Superintendent, 
 the Street Cleaning Bureau, the Detective Squad, the 
 Chief Surgeon, and the ''Rogue's Gallery." The 
 building is connected with every station house by 
 special telegraphic wires. 
 
 The control of the force, as has been said, is vested 
 in a Board of four Commissioners. They receive an 
 annual salary of ^6000 each, except the President 
 of the Board, who is paid ^8000, and hold office for 
 six years. They may be removed "for cause" by the 
 Mayor, with the concurrence of the Governor of the 
 State. They appoint the Superintendent and all the 
 members of the force, make promotions, and have 
 
THE SUPERINTENDENT OF POLICE. 
 
 373 
 
 power to dismiss an offender after he has had a fair 
 hearing before them. All complaints against police- 
 men are laid before them, and they alone have power 
 to try the members of the force. They also appoint 
 the Inspectors of Election, about eleven hundred in 
 number, select the five hundred and fifty polling 
 places, and count the votes cast. The law requires 
 that the Commissionerships shall be equally divided 
 between the two leading political parties. This is an 
 element of weakness in the organization, as it opens 
 the door to political influence in the distribution of 
 appointments. 
 
 The Superintendent is the immediate commander of 
 the Police force. His duties are onerous, and only a 
 man of high moral as well as physical courage and 
 undoubted integrity can fill the position worthily. The 
 members of the force receive their orders from him, 
 through his subordinates, and are responsible to him 
 for the proper performance of their duties, he being, 
 in his turn, responsible to the Commissioners for the 
 discipline and good conduct of the force. His office is 
 connected with every station house in the city by tele- 
 graph, and he is in constant communication with all 
 parts of the immense field over which he keeps watch. 
 In this way he can spread the news of a robbery, trace 
 a lost child, or track a criminal all over the city, and 
 in fact throughout the Union, without leaving his desk. 
 
 The present Superintendent is Mr. George W. Wal- 
 ling, who has been connected with the force for fort>' 
 years. He is a fine-looking, well-preserved man, and 
 one of the most satisfactory officials New York has 
 ever had. He is firm, but just, in the enforcement of 
 
374 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 the discipline of the force ; brave as a lion, and de- 
 servedly popular with his men and with the citizens 
 generally. 
 
 Under the Superintendent are four Inspectors of 
 Police, one of whom must always be on duty at the 
 central office. Each inspector has charge of one of 
 the four inspection districts into which the cit^' is di- 
 vided, and is responsible for the preservation of order 
 in his district. He must examine the police stations 
 under his control, making his visits at times when he 
 is not expected, and see that everything connected 
 with it is conducted properly. Complaints made by 
 citizens against members of the force are investigated 
 by him, and he reports the result to the Superinten- 
 dent, who, in his turn, lays the matter before the Com- 
 •missioners, if the evidence submitted by the Inspector 
 •warrants him in doing so. The Inspector must also 
 visit the patrolmen on their beats at uncertain hours, 
 to ascertain if they are faithfully performing their 
 duties. 
 
 The city is divided into thirty-five precincts, in each 
 of which there is a station-house. Each precinct is 
 commanded by a Captain of Police, under whom are 
 several Sergeants, one of whom must be on duty at the 
 station-house at all hours of the day and night. The 
 Captain is responsible for the proper conduct of the 
 station, the correct performance of their duties by the 
 men under his command, and the general good order 
 of his precinct. The Sergeants are the Captain's Lieur 
 tenants, and perform such duties as he may assign 
 them. Below the Sergeants are the Roundsmen, who 
 "go the rounds" in certain specified districts, to see 
 
STRENGTH OF THE POLICE FORCE. 
 
 375 
 
 that each patrolman is on his post, and to receive such 
 reports as the patrolmen may wish to make. 
 
 The Patrolmen are the privates of the force. Each 
 has a certain "beat" or route assigned him, which he 
 must patrol faithfully during his hours of duty. He is 
 responsible for the preservation of order on his beat, 
 and is required to summon assistance when needed. 
 
 The present police force consists of about three 
 thousand men. Their pay is not large, considering the 
 arduous and dangerous duties required of them, and 
 the great responsibility resting upon them. A Captain 
 receives $2000 a year, a Sergeant 500, a Roundsman 
 J 1 200, and a Patrolman ^1000. 
 
 Besides the force employed in patrolling the city^ 
 special detachments guard the City Hall, the Grand 
 Central Depot, the Banks, the theatres, and public 
 ineetings; act as a Sanitary Police exclusively; do 
 niuty as a Mounted Police; watch over the neighboring 
 waters as a "Harbor Police," and are assigned to 
 special duty as detectives. For these special services 
 they receive no extra pay. 
 
 Naturally, among so large a body of men, there will 
 always be considerable sickness. When a Patrolman 
 falls sick from "unusual exposure, exertion, or injury^ 
 while in the discharge of police duty," he is put on 
 half-pay until he returns to duty. The Commissioners 
 have power to award full pay to meritorious officers 
 thus afflicted, and claim that such a course is usually 
 pursued. 
 
 The Regulations of the force thus prescribe the 
 qualifications of applicants for admission to the force: 
 . "No person will be appointed a Patrolman of the 
 Municipal Police Force unless he 
 
376 
 
 NE-W YORK. 
 
 "First. Is able to read and write the English lan- 
 guage understandingly. 
 
 "Second. Is a citizen of the United States. 
 
 "Third. Has been a resident of this State for a term 
 of one year, next prior to his application for the office. 
 Fourth. Has never been convicted of a crime. 
 
 "Fifth. Is at least five feet eight inches in height. 
 
 "Sixth. Is less than thirty-five years of age. 
 
 "Seventh. Is in good health, and of sound body and 
 mind. 
 
 " Eighth. Is of good moral character and habits. 
 
 "Applicants for the office must present to the Board 
 of Commissioners a petition signed by not less than 
 five citizens of good character and habits, and verified 
 by the affidavit of one of them." 
 
 The applicant is subjected to a rigid medical exami- 
 nation, by one or more of the most competent sur- 
 geons of the force. The standard of physical capacity 
 is very high, and not more than one in ten of the ap- 
 plicants ever come up to it. Only sound and perfectly 
 healthy men are wanted. Applicants must also state, 
 under oath, their parentage, nationality, education, per- 
 sonal condition in every respect, their present business 
 or employment, and physical condition. 
 
 The force is regularly drilled in military tactics by 
 competent instructors, and the strictest discipline is 
 maintained. Thus, in times of emergency, the force is 
 capable of acting as a body of veteran soldiers. As a 
 rule, the men are large, fine-looking fellows, and at 
 their annual parades their martial bearing, steadiness, 
 and admirable discipline, never fail to win them hearty 
 applause. The largest and finest-looking men are as- 
 
DUTIES OF A PATROLMAN. 
 
 377 
 
 signed to duty on Broadway. Nor is this for show 
 only. The duties of a Broadway patrolman are ardu- 
 ous and exacting, and scarcely a day passes that does 
 not add its testimony in favor of the wisdom of the rule 
 that governs their selection. 
 
 That many of the members of the force are brutal 
 wretches, and are only kept in their positions by politi- 
 cal influence, is unfortunately true ; but taken as a 
 whole, the police of New York are a credit to the city. 
 They have never failed in their duty in any emergency, 
 and instances of individual courage and heroism are 
 of daily occurrence. 
 
 The duties of a Patrolman are numerous and diffi- 
 cult. Each has a certain beat " or district assigned 
 him, which he must patrol and watch faithfully during 
 his hours of duty. In some sections of the city these 
 beats are very extensive, and it takes the Patrolman a 
 considerable length of time to walk around his district. 
 In such cases more is required of the man than he is 
 capable of performing, for a crime may be committed 
 in some part of his beat, when he is far away on an- 
 other part, faithfully doing his duty. The Patrolman 
 is expected to use the utmost vigilance to prevent the 
 occurrence of crime or wrong-doing along his beat, or, 
 at least, to use such vigilance as will render the com- 
 mission of it difficult. He must keep an eye on all 
 persons passing along his route after dark, examine 
 frequently the doors, lower windows, cellar doors, and 
 gates of the houses he guards ; peer through the peep- 
 holes into the stores in which the gas is left burning, 
 to see that all is quiet and safe ; to have a general 
 knowledge of the occupants of the houses along his 
 
378 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 beat ; to report to the officer in charge of his station 
 "all persons suspected of being policy dealers, gam- 
 blers, receivers of stolen property, thieves, burglars, or 
 offenders of any kind to watch all disorderly houses 
 or houses of ill-fame, and observe and report to his 
 commanding officer all persons by whom they are fre- 
 quented to give the alarm in case of fire ; to aid per- 
 sons appealing to him for protection ; to stop all undue 
 noise or disorder on the street ; and to make arrests 
 for certain offences which are named in the book of 
 Regulations, of which each member of the force is re- 
 quired to have a copy. He is not allowed to stop and 
 converse with strangers or acquaintances, except for 
 the purpose of giving them such information as they 
 may ask for ; nor to converse with any other Patrol- 
 man, except to impart or receive information. He 
 must not stop on his post, but must diligently patrol it, 
 except when some suspicious light or person causes 
 him to linger to watch it or him. He must be exceed^ 
 ingly careful in making arrests, so as to take into cus- 
 tody the actual offender, and not an innocent person ; 
 and he is forbidden to use violence, unless it shall be 
 necessary in order to overcome the resistance of his 
 prisoner. If he cannot make the arrest alone, or if he 
 has good reason to believe that assistance is neces- 
 sary, it is his duty to summon another officer, by rap- 
 ping with his club upon the pavement, and in the 
 meantime to call upon the bystanders for aid. A re- 
 fusal to assist an officer when called upon constitutes 
 a misdemeanor, and the offender is liable to arrest. 
 
 " It is common cant, that a policeman is always pres- 
 ent — except when wanted. In the lower part of New 
 
VIGILANCE OF THE POLICE. 379 
 
 York this is an unjust charge. How far wiil you 
 walk in the region of Canal street, for instance, before 
 meeting a policeman — that is, if you look for one, for 
 it is his policy to remain inconspicuous ? Lower 
 Broadway, dim and gloomy at midnight, is full of po- 
 lice, furiously shaking at the handles of the doors, to 
 be sure that all are securely locked, peering through 
 the little peep-holes of the iron shutters, to see that no 
 burglars are at work in the stores where lights are left 
 burning all night, or that an incipient fire is not work- 
 ing insidious destruction ; lurking out of sight in shady 
 doorways, while they watch suspicious loungers ; or 
 standing in groups of two or three on the corners 
 where two posts intersect, and a Roundsman has hap- 
 pened to join them. Leaving Broadway, and glancing 
 down dark and fearful back streets, like Bayard or Eliza- 
 beth, West, Houston or Sullivan, you are sure to see^ 
 the flickering light of the street lamps, and the ruddy 
 glare of red-sign lanterns, reflected from the silver 
 shield and brass buttons. Go where you may, you 
 meet these erect and wide-awake watchmen. They 
 are strolling through the deserted avenues of Wash 
 ington Market ; they are keeping an eye on rogues in 
 Madison Square; they are pulling silently in and ouit 
 of the shadows of the great ships lying asleep at thai 
 wharves; they are dosing as 'reserves' in the thirty- 
 four station-houses, ready on telegraphic summons to 
 go to the care of a fire or the subduing of a riot. The 
 worshiper, coming from his weekly prayer-meeting» 
 finds the policemen at the door, enforcing his coveted 
 quiet. The family that goes for a day's recreation at 
 Rockaway, is sure that its pleasure will not be spoiled 
 
380 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 by rowdyism, for a group of officers stand on the deck, 
 seemingly absorbed in the magnificence of the sum- 
 mer's morning on the Bay; yet ready, ready! The 
 opera-glasses sweeping the audience at ' Faust ' or 
 'The Shaughran' catch a sight of a blue coat or two 
 behind the ranks of white ribbons and pretty plumes. 
 
 "Though honest men sometimes do not seem able 
 to put their finger upon a policeman at the instant they 
 want him, rogues find far oftener that the 'peelers' are 
 on hand when not wanted. Go to Chatham Square 
 some night, break a window, and run; how far do you 
 suppose you would get? Or go to Broadway and 
 Sixth avenue and fire a revolver; how long would you 
 keep that pistol? Let me snatch an apple from an old 
 woman's stand in Fulton Market, and she would have 
 me under lock and key in twenty minutes, if she 
 thought it worth the trouble. Wander where we will 
 in this vast city, the ruffian or vagrant cannot get away 
 from the law. It follows him into his home, waits at 
 all his resorts for amusement, and can often tell him 
 better than he knows himself what he has been doing 
 for twenty-four hours. This constant surveillance 
 exasperates bad characters. They chafe under the 
 restraint, make feeble efforts to rebel, but it is useless. 
 The power of the police over the lower and evil circles 
 of society is enormous; they have a mortal fear of the 
 force. They know that behind that silver shield there 
 resides indomitable courage, and in that closely but- 
 toned coat are muscles of iron and nerves of steel. 
 The 'Bowery Boys' and roughs of New York are all 
 cowards, and they know it. They dare not meet half 
 their weight of righteous pluck. > I have seen a great 
 
COWING A MOB. 
 
 38.1 
 
 bully cringe and cry under a policeman's open-handed 
 cuffing, who had always avowed himself ready to fight 
 any number of persons on the smallest provocation. 
 Ver\^ Hkely he has a bowie-knife, or revolver, or slung 
 shot — or all three in one, as I saw one night in 28th 
 street — in his pocket at the time; yet he does not 
 attempt to use it on the officer of the law. The 
 occasional exceptions to this are rare and notable. 
 How many times have a single policeman arrested a 
 man out of a crowd, and no one of his fellows raised a 
 finger to help him! They dare not. They have too 
 wholesome a respect for the law, for that locust, for 
 that revolver in the pocket; most of all they are awed 
 by the cool courage of the 7nan who dares to face them 
 on their own ground." 
 
 Yet, in spite of all this, the policeman's life is full of 
 danger. He must patrol streets that are known to be 
 dangerous, narrow alleys, without a light along their 
 course, where a well delivered blow from a slunor shot, 
 a skillfully aimed thrust from a knife, or a bullet from a 
 revolver would make an end of him before he could 
 summon help. He is an object of hatred, as well as 
 of fear, to the dangerous classes, and they do not hesi- 
 tate to take any advantage of him. Often some brave 
 fellow is set on by a gang of roughs, and beaten or 
 wounded. Yet whatever the danger, however great 
 the odds, the policeman must face it all, and, to the 
 honor of the force be it said, he does not shrink. 
 Whatever their faults may be, cowardice cannot be 
 charged against the police of New York. 
 
 "In 1873," says the writer in Scidbners Magazine, 
 from whom we have quoted above, '"Mulligan's Hall* 
 
382 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 was a basement saloon in Broome street. It had been 
 growing worse and worse, and one evening, hearing a 
 disturbance, Captain Williams and the officer on that 
 post went in. There were thirty-eight persons, men 
 and women, of every color and nationality, all of the 
 worst character and some notorious in crime. The 
 Captain took in the situation at a glance, and deter- 
 mined with a thought to arrest the whole party. Placing 
 his back to the front door, he covered the back door 
 with his revolver, and threatened death to the first per- 
 son who moved. Then he sent the patrolman to the 
 station for help, and for fifteen long minutes held that 
 crowd of desperadoes at bay. They glared at him, 
 squirmed and twisted in their places, scowled and gra- 
 ted clenched teeth, itched to get at their knives and 
 tear him to pieces; but all the while the stern mouth 
 of that revolver looked at them, and looked them out 
 of countenance, and the steady nerve behind it held 
 sway over their brutal ferocity. It was a trial of nerve 
 and endurance. Captain Williams stood the test and 
 saved his life. He wonders now why they did not shoot 
 him a dozen times. Certainly it was not because they 
 had any scruples, for the first two prisoners sent to the 
 station killed Officer Burns with a paving stone before 
 they had gone two blocks. Captain Allaire made an 
 almost precisely similar single-handed raid on the 
 famous 'Burnt Rag' saloon in Bleecker street, one 
 winter night in 1875." 
 
 One Fourth of July morning, a few years ago, the 
 writer of these pages was coming up Third avenud on 
 a street car. Looking down East 35th street a singu- 
 lar sight presented itself. A platoon of police formed 
 
PRE VENTING A RIOT. 
 
 383 
 
 across the street was slowly retreating backward, with 
 revolvers drawn and pointed, while two of their number 
 held on to a rough looking prisoner, whom they carried 
 along with them. Following them was a mob of 
 several hundred ruffians, yelling, cursing, and occa- 
 sionally throwing stones. Wishing to see the result, 
 I sprang from the car and hurried to a livery stable 
 just opposite the Police station in 35th street, and about 
 a hundred 'yards from Third avenue, from which I 
 could see the whole affair. The Police retreated 
 slowly across Third avenue, and to the station house, 
 into which they quickly disappeared with their prisoner. 
 A cheer went up from the mob, and the ruffians 
 thronged about the station as if intending to attack it. 
 Immediately the doors were thrown open and the entire 
 force on duty at the station dashed into the street, 
 armed with their long night clubs, and headed by their 
 Captain. "Give them the locusts, men," came in sharp, 
 ringing tones from the Captain, and without a word 
 the force dashed at the mob, striking heads, arms, an<^ 
 shoulders, and in less time than it takes me to relattji 
 it, the ruffians were fleeing down the street and dis 
 persing in all directions. Not all escaped, however, 
 for each officer returned to the station with an ugly 
 looking prisoner in his grasp. 
 
 The uniform of the force is a long blue coat, of heavy- 
 cloth, buttoned to the throat, with a row of brass but- 
 tons. A silver shield is worn on the left breast, with 
 the arms of the city and the number of the officer upoa 
 it. A stout cloth helmet covers the head, and is also 
 adorned with the wearer's number, enclosed in a 
 wreath. A baton of heavy wood is suspended from a 
 
384 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 belt at the waist, and at night a club of greater length 
 takes its place. This is provided with an ornamental 
 but stout cord, by means of which the officer secures 
 the club to his wrist when using it. A loaded revolver 
 is carried night and day in the hip pocket. In the 
 warm season a light blue blouse is worn in place of 
 the heavy coat. The members of the force are required 
 to be neat in their dress, and must come on duty with 
 freshly polished boots or shoes. Untidiness in dress 
 is punished. 
 
 "A policeman's time is reckoned by periods of four 
 days, but he has no Sunday or holidays, save his an- 
 nual summer leave of absence. Beginning at six p. m. 
 on Sunday, for instance, he goes upon duty, and paces 
 his beat until midnight. Returning he remains in the 
 station house on "reserve" duty until six a.m.; then 
 goes out for eight hours, after which there is four hours 
 rest, bringing the time to six p. m. on Monday. At 
 that time he goes on duty again for six hours, followed 
 by six hours' reserve duty, bringing it to six a. m. 
 This is followed by two hours' patrol and five hours' 
 reserve, ending at one p. m., Tuesday. Then begins 
 five hours' patrol, six hours in the house, and six hours 
 more of patrol, ending at six a. m., Wednesday morn- 
 ing, after which he is "off," and goes where he pleases 
 until six o'clock that evening, When he begins six hours 
 of patrol followed by eight hours of reserve duty, five 
 hours of patrolling again, then a rest of eleven hours 
 in the station house, then another six hours of post 
 duty, and at six on Thursday evening he finds himself 
 off once more for twelve hours. The following morn- 
 ing he begins it all over again. Thus, once in eight 
 
HOW PETE BECAME A POLICEMAN. 385 
 
 days he can stay at home all day, and every eighth 
 night he can sleep at home. But he must not be 
 tardy in returning to his work. 
 
 '• At six in the morning and evening, and at twelve, 
 noon and midnight, the Sergeant on duty in each office 
 taps his bell. The platoon which is to go on duty — 
 each company is divided into two sections of two 
 platoons each — files in from the waiting room, dresses 
 ranks, answers roll call, is inspected, to see that each 
 man is in proper uniform, has his club, his revolver, his 
 handcuffs, and his fire alarm key. Then such general 
 orders as have come from headquarters are read, and 
 at the words, 'Draw batons, right face, march!' the 
 blue coats pass out and scatter to their posts. As fast 
 as relieved, the men who have been on duty during the 
 previous six hours return to the station." 
 
 At the Church street station the force on duty have 
 a singular coadjutor, in a dog, named ''Pete." Pete's 
 history is a remarkable one, and is worth relating. 
 Late on a warm afternoon, about six years ago, a dog 
 walked into the main room of the station and stretched 
 himself on the floor. All attempts to drive him out 
 were in vain, and he was suffered to remain. Later in 
 the day he roused himself and trotted into the room 
 where the patrolmen congregate when on reserve duty, 
 and stretching himself under the table went to sleep. 
 At midnight the fourth section of the second platoon 
 was rung up. The men marched into the main room, 
 and ranged themselves in line. The dog followed and 
 took his position at the foot. When the roll was called 
 the Sergeant named the dog Pete, and bade him go 
 with the men. He followed them out, went around 
 
 25 
 
SS6 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 from one post to another, returned with the platoon in 
 the morning, and went to sleep under the table. 
 
 Relays of men were called during the day, but the 
 dog did not move. At six o'clock the fourth section 
 of the second platoon was again called out. The dog 
 marched in with the men and took up his position at 
 the foot of the line. 
 
 "By George!" said the Captain, "there's that pup 
 again. Well, don't feed him, doorman, and he'll soon 
 ^o away." 
 
 But he did'nt go away. He has never been fed in 
 the station, and he has always acted thoroughly at 
 home. 
 
 "There's one peculiar thing about Pete," said one of 
 the Sergeants, "he moves and acts exactly like a police- 
 man. He never runs or jumps or plays, but simply 
 strolls along. He's fond of janitors' daughters, and 
 will stand stock sdll in a shadowy doorway for hours at 
 a stretch. Not a man in the precinct has ever seen 
 him eat, and I'm pretty sure that the general public 
 never saw him drink. And then, what a clever dog he 
 is! In the winter of '79, on the loth of January, if my 
 memory serves, Pete was walking along Greenwich 
 street, on his way from post to post, when he saw three 
 men at the basement door of the bonded warehouses, 
 Nos. 98, 100, and 102. A moment later, and the men 
 had forced the door, entered the building, and closed 
 up their work so that a passing glance could not detect 
 that anything had been tampered with. Pete lay down 
 by the door and growled. After a while Officer 
 Dougherty came along, and patting the dog on the 
 head walked on, expecting the dog to follow him. 
 
WORK OF THE POLICE. 
 
 387 
 
 Pete never moved, but growled louder than before, 
 with his eyes fixed on that door. Dougherty tried 
 to get him to move, but it wouldn't do. At last the 
 officer suspected that something was wrong. He exam- 
 ined the door, then rapped for assistance, and the build- 
 ing was searched. Two of the burglars were captured. 
 The other one escaped. About three o'clock one 
 morning last winter Pete was trotting along Broad- 
 way, when he discovered a broken pane of glass in a 
 clothing store near Cedar street. He stopped at once 
 and barked like mad. Every man in the precinct knows 
 Pete's voice. Officer Donnelly ran to him and found 
 that there had been a light robbery. Whether the dog 
 frightened the thieves away or not, we never knew. 
 Another time the dog discovered a fire at 240 Fulton 
 street. Pete has never missed his turn on the second 
 ^ platoon, and has never gone out with any other than 
 the fourth section in six years." 
 
 The number of arrests made by the police is from 
 70,000 to 75,000 annually, sometimes running as high 
 as 80,000 to 82,000. Of these more than one-fourth 
 are for intoxication. 
 
 Each police precinct is provided with a station-house, 
 for the accommodation of the force on duty and the 
 detention of prisoners. These are so located as to be 
 central to their respective precincts. They are model 
 buildings of their kind, being generally constructed of 
 red brick, with stone facings. The entrance leads di- 
 rectly to the main hall, at one side of which is the Ser- 
 geant's desk, generally a handsome affair of black wal- 
 nut, with a standard gas lamp at each side. Behind 
 this desk sits the Sergeant on duty, and before him is 
 
388 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 the " Blotter," in which are entered the arrests, charges 
 against prisoners, and other events of each twenty-four 
 hours. The room is provided with substantial furni- 
 ture, according to its needs. The telegraph instru- 
 ment is placed at a distance from the windows and 
 entrance, as a protection to it in case of an attack upon 
 the station. It is of a peculiar kind, and is easily 
 worked by any person of ordinary intelligence. Speak- 
 ing tubes and boxes for papers communicate with the 
 other apartments. In the rear of the main office is the 
 waiting room, in which the men congregate when not 
 on duty. On the same floor is the private room of the 
 Captain commanding the precinct. It is handsomely 
 furnished, and is fitted up as a chamber and office com- 
 bined, for the Captain as often sleeps here as at home. 
 The upper floors contain the dormitories of the Ser- 
 geants, Roundsmen, and Patrolmen. In some of the , 
 stations the cellar contains the cells of the prisoners, 
 and the rooms for the accommodation of persons who 
 have nowhere else to spend the night. Two such 
 rooms are provided, one for men and boys, the other 
 for women. The women's room is in charge of a fe- 
 male attendant. In other stations the cells and lodg- 
 ing rooms are located in an annex, back of the main 
 building. Bath rooms and other conveniences are pro- 
 vided for the officials and men of the force, and the 
 entire station is kept scrupulously clean and neat 
 Each Patrolman has a private closet for his clothing 
 and other possessions, and each bed is stamped with 
 the section number of its occupant. 
 
 As prisoners are brought in by the Patrolmen, the 
 Sergeant in charge hears the accusation against them, 
 
THE tramps' lodging ROOM. 
 
 389 
 
 notes it down in the Blotter, and orders the prisoner to 
 a cell, where he is confined until the next day, when he 
 is sent to the courts for trial. 
 
 The rooms set apart for lodging tramps, casuals, and 
 those who have no other place to spend the night, are 
 furnished with Spartan simplicity. A platform with 
 movable planks runs along the longest side, and some- 
 times there is a second similar platform on the opposite 
 side of the room. This is the only bed provided, and 
 the sleepers must make the best of it. They are aroused 
 at daylight and turned into the street, after which the 
 rooms are thoroughly washed by means of a hose, and 
 made ready for their next occupants. It is usually 
 after heavy snow storms, or long, cold rains, that the 
 number of persons who seek shelter at the stations is 
 largest, and an uncommonly severe winter will send 
 an extraordinary number of vagrants to these lodgings. 
 Sometimes they are so full that there is no more room, 
 and then hundreds are turned away. The average age 
 of the lodgers is over twenty-five, but some few boys 
 are to be found among them. The men outnumber 
 the women two to one. Very few young girls apply 
 for lodgings at police stations. Most of the female 
 lodgers are women past middle age, dissipated and lost 
 to all sense of decency, although occasionally a woman 
 of modest appearance is found among them. Both 
 men and women are, in the main, Irish, German, and 
 Italian, very few native Americans being among the 
 applicants for shelter. 
 
 The majority of the lodgers are professional vagrants, 
 and sleep regularly at the station-houses. They are 
 generally found to have been drinking, and are some- 
 
390 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 times so drunk and disorderly that it is necessary to 
 lock them up in cells. Their names are recorded in 
 the station-house books, and they are said to show 
 great ingenuity in inventing new names and new 
 stories to account for their condition. The police 
 place little confidence in what they say. They seldom 
 lodge at the same station house two nights in succes- 
 sion, but go from one to another, hoping to be for- 
 gotten by the Sergeants and keepers before they visit 
 the same place again. Many of them claim to have 
 come from the country, having been driven to the city 
 by the sudden setting in of cold weather, and the con- 
 sequent impossibility of getting employment on the 
 farms. 
 
 The lodgers fare roughly in the stations. When one 
 of them comes in, he takes one of the planks which 
 must be his bed, and places it on the frame of the 
 platform so that it slants from head to foot, and lies 
 down, with his boots for a pillow and his coat for a 
 covering. If there are but few persons in the room he 
 may have two or three planks, but after he is asleep 
 he is likely to be rudely dropped to the floor by having 
 the extra planks jerked from under him. On a cold 
 night all are taken early, and fifty men or fifty women 
 lie heaped on the long platform. Next, the aisle is 
 occupied, and as more come in they will crawl under 
 the platform, until a mouse could hardly tread his way 
 through this mass of humanity. Such a lodging place 
 at 12 o'clock on a "full night" is almost as vile as the 
 "Black-hole'' of Calcutta. The heat comes up through 
 the gratings in the floor, and the presence of sixty or 
 seventy unwashed, gin soaked b9dies adds stenches 
 
THE POLICE SERGEANT. 
 
 391 
 
 indescribable; while the snores of stentorian breathers^ 
 the groaning of wakeful lodgers, and driveling of 
 drunken ones, the scream of some frightened dreamer^ 
 and the querulous wail of a sick child, unite to make a 
 Babel of horrible sounds. A single flickering gaslight 
 sends feeble rays through the laden air, and every 
 ray touches a pile of rags which in the morning will 
 become a tramp. 
 
 The Sergeant who sits behind the railed enclosure in 
 the main room of the station-house sees many strange 
 phases of life in his hours of duty. This is especially 
 so when the station-house is situated in a populous 
 tenement house district, where wrangles between 
 neighbors are constantly going on, and landlords and 
 tenants are in perpetual hot water with each other. 
 The differences always happening between these twa 
 sets of people make a prominent feature in the com- 
 plaint business of the station-house. The Sergeant sees, 
 most of the sad, wretched and unwholesome side of 
 existence, and very little of its brighter and more en- 
 couraging aspect. If he be a man of kindly, sympa- 
 thetic nature, he must be greatly moved at times; but 
 his official position and the effect of long familiarity 
 with cases of distress and wretchedness, give an appa- 
 rent callousness to his manner and address. He comes 
 to act his part with an even mechanical method, and is 
 the same to all classes and conditions of people. A 
 man who considers himself grievously wronged will 
 enter the station and point out to the Sergeant with 
 earnest profusion the story of his woes, to be met only 
 with a few laconic, cold responses, that chill him to the 
 very marrow, and make him wonder if a police officer 
 
392 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 has any heart at all. An old officer who has sat at the 
 desk for the course of a few years, and who has a 
 shrewd and observant turn of mind, can quickly meas- 
 ure the importance of every complaint made before 
 him. Some Sergeants become expert in this line, and 
 are the moral barometers of their precincts. They can 
 furnish as accurate a diagnosis of the moral health of 
 their districts, by a reference to their entry books, as a 
 doctor can tell the physical condition of a patient by 
 feeling his pulse. 
 
 Let us take our seat beside Sergeant at one of 
 
 the busiest stations in the city. It is ten o'clock, and 
 the night is cold and keen without, but the room is 
 brightly lighted, warm and comfortable. With the 
 exception of a few early lodgers who have been given 
 quarters, no one has put in an appearance, and we begin 
 to wonder if it is to be a dull night after all. The 
 Sergeant smiles, and remarks that there will be busi- 
 ness enough in the next three hours. 
 
 The door opens as he speaks, and a woman in a 
 faded black dress, a battered bonnet, and a very dirty 
 face enters, and hesitatingly approaches the desk. 
 
 "Can I have a night's lodging, sir?" she asks. 
 
 The Sergeant makes no reply for a moment, but 
 gazes at her with curious interest, and then asks, 
 abruptly : — 
 
 "When did you wash your face last?" 
 
 *T washed it in Bridgeport, sir," she answers; "an* 
 I've come from there to-day; and never a drop o' 
 wather have I seen." 
 
 " Give her a lodging," says the Sergeant, nodding to 
 an officer standing by. "But, see here," he adds to 
 the woman, "what are you doing in New York?" 
 
A NIGHT IN A POLICE STATION. 
 
 393 
 
 *'Ah! it's a long story, sir," she begins. "It was a 
 rtian that was the cause of it, an' bad luck to him. He 
 left me, after deceivin' me, an' I've come to New York 
 to find him." 
 
 "How did he deceive you?" 
 
 **Oh, the way they always do. He got the best oi 
 me because I was innocent, an' he promised to marry 
 me. When he was tired of me he landed out, an' I've 
 never seen him since." 
 
 ''Where do you expect to find him?'' 
 
 "Here, in this city. I'd know his skin on a bush, an* 
 ril find him or die." 
 
 "Well, you'd better take a rest for to-night." 
 
 The woman goes off to her hard bed in the lodging- 
 room, and the office is silent again ; but only for a 
 short while. The door opens again, and this time with 
 a crash, and an officer enters, with a prisoner in his 
 vise-like grasp. The man's coat is pulled over his 
 head, his hat is gone, the blood is running from Ws 
 nose, and his gait is so unsteady that he would cer- 
 tainly fall to the floor but for the firm hold of the po- 
 liceman. His shirt front is covered with blood and 
 beer, and his eyes are frenzied and bloodshot. 
 
 "Well, officer, what is it?" asks the Sergeant, 
 taking up his pen, as the Patrolman drags his prisoner 
 to the desk. 
 
 " Drunk and disorderly, sir," replies the policeman, 
 " Wanted to fight everybody he met on the street. He 
 got pretty badly damaged in being put out of Schloss- 
 heimer's beer saloon, and I had to take him in charge." 
 
 " What is your name, and where do you live?" asks 
 the Sergeant of the prisoner. 
 
394 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The man gives his name and address, in a sort of 
 incoherent manner, and is sent back to a cell, while the 
 Sergeant jots down the circumstances of the arrest in 
 his " Blotter." 
 
 The door opens again, and a woman, neatly draped 
 in mourning, and with a pale, sad face, enters timidly 
 and approaches the desk. In a low voice she asks 
 the Sergeant if he can tell her of any respectable place 
 in the neighborhood where she can obtain a lodging 
 at a moderate price. Her manner is that of a lady, 
 and the Sergeant listens with respect to her request, 
 and gives her the address of such a place as she de- 
 sires. In the same low tone she thanks him, and dis . 
 appears, and the stern face of the officer of the law for 
 a moment has a troubled expression. 
 
 The door is thrown open violently once more, and 
 two flashily dressed young women enter, and hurry 
 forward to the desk. Their faces are flushed, they are 
 greatly excited, and have evidently been drinking. 
 They begin their story together, talking loudly and 
 angrily. They will not stand it any longer, they 
 
 declare. Madame owes them money, and they 
 
 "are going to have it, or raise ." The Sergeant. 
 
 who has listened patiently, mildly interposes with the 
 hope that nothing of the kind will be raised in the 
 station-house, and then asks: — 
 
 "How much does she owe you ?" 
 
 "Twenty-five dollars each," they reply, in one voice. 
 
 "And why don't she pay you ?" 
 
 "Because she thinks by keeping herself in our debt 
 we won't leave her," they respond together; • "and 
 we want a policeman to come along and make her 
 fork over." 
 
DRUNK AND DISORDERLY. 
 
 395 
 
 The Sereeant considers for a moment, and then de- 
 clares that the matter does not come within the juris- 
 diction of the pohce, and that he can do nothing for 
 them. They stare at him in blank amazement for 
 awhile, and then flounce out of the room, loudly cursing 
 the whole police force, and the Sergeant in particular. 
 
 -The next comer is in charo-e of another officer. He 
 
 o 
 
 is very dirty, and wretchedly drunk. His tall hat is 
 mashed in, and there is mud stickino- to his hair. He 
 is placed before the desk. 
 
 "Drunk and disorderly, sir," ^ays the patrolman. 
 "I caught him climbing a Third avenue Elevated Rail- 
 road pillar. He said he always went up to his room 
 by way of the fire escape when he came home late." 
 
 The prisoner is silent, but tries to listen to the 
 officer, and fixes upon the Sergeant as solemn a look 
 as his bleared eyes will permit. He is too drunk to 
 give his name, and is sent to a cell, where he is soon 
 in a drunken slumber. 
 
 Toward midnight a poor woman, shabbily dressed, 
 with a thin, well-worn shawl around her head enters, 
 and approaches the desk. 
 
 "Can you tell me if anything has been heard of my 
 husband yet?" she asks — the same question she has 
 repeated every day for the past week. 
 
 "No, ma'am, nothing," answers the Sergeant briefly; 
 but his eyes as he glances at the poor, sorrowful 
 creature, have a pitying look in them. 
 
 "What was your husband's business?" 
 
 "He was a stevedore, sir." 
 
 "And you were married to him how long?'* 
 
 "Eleven years and over, sir. We had five children, 
 
396 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 all dead now but the youngest. He was a good hus- 
 band to me; but he took a drop too much now and 
 then, and was cross and noisy. He left the house three 
 weeks ago, and we have never seen him since." 
 
 "Did he leave you any money?" 
 
 " He left us nothing, sir. The child and myself lives 
 on the charity of neighbors; but we can't expect to 
 live that way always." 
 
 "Well, I'll speak to the Captain," says the Sergeant 
 kindly, "and see what can be done for you, and if a 
 dollar will do you any good, here it is." And the good- 
 hearted Sergeant passes a silver coin over the desk, 
 and sends the woman away sobbing out her expressions 
 of gratitude. 
 
 Loud voices are heard on the station steps as the 
 woman passes out, the door is thrown open, and six 
 well dressed men enter, accompanied by two police- 
 men. They approach the desk, talking excitedly, and 
 charges and counter-charges, mixed with much slang 
 and profanity, are brought before the Sergeant, who 
 sits stolidly gazing at the party, waiting for a return of 
 something like order. There is a lull in the talking, 
 and one of the policemen states that two of the men 
 have been engaged in a drunken assault at a political 
 primary held in the neighborhood, and that the others 
 have come to prefer charges against them. The 
 charges are made and entered in the Blotter, and the 
 accused then prefer counter-charges against the other 
 four, but as the policemen do not sustain them, the accu- 
 sers are suffered to depart, and the accused are sent to 
 a cell, where they raise a tremendous racket. 
 
 As the officials are departing for their beats again, 
 
AN ATTEMPT ATSUICIBE FOILED. 
 
AN ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE. 
 
 397 
 
 two more enter, this time having in custody two hand- 
 somely dressed, fashionable looking youths, whose 
 flushed faces show they have been drinking, but not 
 enough to prevent them from feeling the shame of their 
 position. 
 
 " Drunk and disorderly, sir," says the officer. Kicked 
 over an old woman's peanut stand in the street, knocked 
 all her stuff into the mud, and then tried to run away." 
 
 "But, Sergeant," pleads one of the youths, "it was 
 only for a lark, you see. We'll make it all right in the 
 morning with the old woman." 
 
 "Your names and addresses?" asks the Sergeant, 
 coldly. 
 
 They are given, but are evidently fictitious. 
 
 "It was only a lark. Sergeant," begins the young 
 man who has spoken before. "We didn't mean " 
 
 "Lock them up," says the Sergeant, cutting him 
 short. ''You can state all that to the court in the 
 morninof." 
 
 And they are led away. 
 
 The silence that has fallen over the room after the 
 young men have been led out is rudely broken by the 
 hast}- entrance of an officer from the direction of the 
 cells. He is pale and excited. 
 
 "Sergeant," he exclaims, "the woman in Number 
 Ten has committed suicide. She's hung herself" 
 
 The Sergeant springs up, tells the officer to take 
 charge of the room, and hurries to the cells. We fol- 
 low him. The door in Number Ten is wide open, and 
 the doorman is in the act of cutting down the woman, 
 who has suspended herself by means of a line made of 
 her garters. He lays her on the floor of the cell, and 
 
398 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 he and the Sergeant bend over and gaze into the 
 bloated face. The woman is not dead, and exhibits 
 signs of returning life. Efforts are made to restore 
 her, and are successful. As she recovers her con- 
 sciousness she raises herself on her elbow, and glaring 
 around savagely, curses bitterly the men who have 
 saved her from death, and begs for a drink of whisky. 
 No liquor is given her, however, and when the officers 
 are satisfied that she is out of danger, she is hand- 
 cuffed, to prevent her from attempting further violence. 
 The rest of the night she keeps the place Hvely with 
 her yells and blasphemous cries. • 
 
 We return to the desk with the Sergeant, who eaters 
 the occurrence in the Blotter. We are scarcely seated, 
 when two of the worst-looking tramps to be found in 
 New York enter, and come up to the desk. 
 
 "Cap'n," exclaims one of them, in a thick voice, 
 *' let's have a shake-down for me and my pard, for the 
 night?" 
 
 "All right," says the Sergeant. " Show these men 
 back." 
 
 The tramp who has spoken, encouraged by the ready 
 granting of his request, says coolly: — 
 
 "You hain't got a chew o' tobaccer, Cap'n, you can 
 let a fellow have ?" 
 
 " No, I hain't," answers the Sergeant, imitating the 
 voice and expression of the tramp ; " but I'll send you 
 in an oyster supper presently, with a bottle of Mumm's 
 Extra Dry, and a bunch of Henry Clay's ; and per- 
 haps some of the other delicacies of the season, if they 
 are to be had." 
 
 The tramps laugh at this sally, and follow the officer 
 to the lodging room. 
 
A STATION-HOUSE MASQUERADE. 
 
 399 
 
 Half an hour later four policemen enter the room 
 bearing a stretcher, on which is laid a badly wounded " 
 man, while two more lead in the assailant, who is 
 securely handcuffed, and bears the marks of the 
 officers' clubs. He had assaulted and stabbed the 
 wounded man in a brawl in a saloon; had resisted the 
 officers who attempted to arrest him; and had proved 
 so dangerous that they had been compelled to club and 
 handcuff him. A telegram is sent to the New York 
 Hospital for an ambulance, and the statements of the 
 wounded man and the officials taken down by the 
 Sergeant. The name and address of the prisoner are 
 also written down, and he is sent to a cell with the 
 irons still on him. In a short while the ambulance 
 arrives and the wounded man is taken away to the 
 hospital. 
 
 Shortly after two o'clock another detachment of 
 officers bring in a batch of about twenty prisoners, 
 male and female. They are dressed in all manner of 
 fancy costumes. Here are Dukes, Don Caesars, Ham- 
 lets, Little Buttercups, Indian princesses and warriors, 
 and the like. They have been to a fancy ball, and left 
 it so very drunk that they fell to fighting among them- 
 selves in the street, and were taken into custody by 
 the officials. They are a motley lot indeed, and lend 
 a strange aspect to the station. They appear to feel 
 the ludicrousness of their position, and beg to be let 
 off; but the Sergeant has no discretion, for the tes- 
 timony of the officials is positive, and the charge is a 
 serious one. So they go back to the cells, and in the 
 morning will appear in full costume before the Court 
 of- Sessions, to answer the charges against them. 
 
400 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 So the hours of darkness pass away, and the re- 
 mainder of the night is but a repetition of many of the 
 scenes we have described. 
 
 The Mounted Police, though a part of the regular 
 force, constitute a distinct squad, and have their station- 
 house in East 85 th street. They are assigned to duty 
 in the upper part of the city and the suburbs; are 
 harjdsomely mounted, and make a fine appearance 
 on parade. They are twenty-two in number, are all 
 picked men, who have served honorably in the army 
 of the United States, and are therefore experienced 
 horsemen. 
 
 Each officer has full care of his horse and equip- 
 ments and is responsible for their proper treatment. 
 Nine hours' patrol duty is required each day, but there 
 is no night duty except in case of emergency. The 
 horses are the best that can be had, are all bays, and 
 are selected with special reference to this work. It 
 takes about six months to break them in so that they 
 can be safely used to catch a runaway team, or allowed 
 to stand alone while the officer dismounts to make an 
 arrest. Some of them are very intelligent animals, and 
 become greatly attached to the men who ride them. 
 The older ones, when an arrest is to be made, will stand 
 with their front feet on the sidewalk waiting for the 
 officer to come out with his prisoner, when they will 
 gently follow on to the station-house. Some of them 
 will not allow a citizen to approach or catch them du- 
 ring any excitement. One of the officers gives his 
 horse the credit of saving him from a severe handling 
 while making an arrest for assault and battery in a 
 group of shanties on 7 2d street near First avenue. 
 He was surrounded by a crowd of sturdy Irish women, 
 
THE MOUNTED POLICE. 
 
 401 
 
 armed with sticks, stones, and everything they could 
 lay hands on. The prisoner fought desperately, and 
 tore the uniform of the officer nearly to pieces while 
 struggling to escape, and would have succeeded, but 
 that the old horse, appreciating the danger, dashed in, 
 and by prancing and kicking up his heels kept the 
 women at a distance until the officer had gotten clear 
 out of reach with his prisoner safely in custody. The 
 number of arrests made by the mounted squad for 
 felonies of various kinds will compare favorably with 
 those of any other up-town precinct. 
 
 The Mounted Police have other and equally import- 
 ant duties to perform, besides making arrests. As 
 their posts are laid out on the principal drives, they are 
 required to look sharply after runaway teams. During 
 the sleighing season runaways are of daily occurrence, 
 but it rarely happens that the officer fails to stop the 
 team. In case of fire the men do good service by 
 riding speedily to the nearest signal box, and sending 
 out the alarm, after which they hasten to the police sta 
 tion and give the particulars to the Sergeant. 
 
 Since the annexation of Morrisania and North New 
 York, seven mounted men from the squad patrol that 
 district every day, leaving their station in the morning 
 looking very much like soldiers starting on a scout, 
 with rations for their horses strapped on behind the 
 saddle. They remain away all day, and feed their 
 horses at gentlemen's places in the suburbs. In the 
 summer time they eat their noon lunch by the roadside. 
 They are the terror of tramps and vagrants in these 
 regions, and a welcome protection to the families along 
 their routes. 
 
 26 
 
402 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The Twenty-fourth Precinct consists of the Harbor 
 Police, and its station is on the steamboat Seneca, 
 which lies at the foot of 3d street, in the East River, 
 when not on duty. The men live on the steamer, and 
 patrol the water front of the city in row boats. One 
 of these boats guards the North River front, and 
 another the East River front. They go up with the 
 flow of the tide and return on the ebb. They row 
 along the -dark and silent wharves, watching the ship- 
 ping, look under the piers for the concealed boats of 
 the river thieves, strain their ears to catch the sound 
 of muffled oars, and sometimes have a sharp conflict 
 with the river thieves, in which revolvers are freely 
 used on both sides. It is hard work, and on the dark, 
 tempestuous nights of winter, when the wind is whist- 
 ling through the rigging of the vessels at the wharves, 
 and the surface of the river is roughened into a con- 
 siderable sea, it is dangerous. Yet these are the times 
 when the Harbor Police must be most alert, for they 
 are the nights on which the river thieves are the most 
 industrious. The police do their work well, however. 
 Millions of dollars worth of property are in their 
 keeping, and they guard it faithfully. Considering all 
 this, it does seem strange that they should be required 
 to perform such arduous labors. Several silent, swift 
 steam launches would greatly lighten their labors and 
 add much to their proficiency. Yet New York, with 
 all its wealth, has never seen fit to strengthen the 
 hands of the men upon whose promptness and fidelity 
 the safety of so much of that wealth depends. 
 
 The annual cost of the police force to the city is 
 j^4,ooo,ooo ; a sum much larger than is expended 
 
THE POLICE LIFE INSURANCE FUND. 403 
 
 in either London or Paris for police purposes. The 
 citizens, however, do not grumble at this. So long as 
 the police are faithful and efficient they are willing 
 they should be well paid. Nor is the city altogether 
 unmindful of the brave men who watch over its safety. 
 The Police Law contains the following clause : — 
 
 "If any member of the Municipal Police Force, whilst 
 in the actual performance of duty, shall become per- 
 manently disabled, so as to render his dismissal from 
 membership proper, or if any such member shall 
 become superannuated after ten years of membership, 
 a sum, not exceeding $150, as an annuity, to be paid 
 such member, shall be chargeable upon the Municipal 
 Police Life Insurance Fund. If any member of the 
 Municipal Police Force, whilst in the actual discharge 
 of his duty, shall be killed, or shall die from the imme- 
 mediate effect of any injury received by him, whilst in 
 such discharge of duty^ or shall die after ten years' ser- 
 vice in the force, and shall leave a widow, and if no 
 widow, any child or children under sixteen years, a like 
 sum by way of annuity shall become chargeable upon 
 the said fund, to be paid to such widow so long only as 
 she remains unmarried, or to such child or children so 
 long as said child, or the youngest of said children, 
 continues under the age of sixteen years. In every 
 case the Board of Municipal Police shall determine the 
 circumstances thereof, and order payment of the an- 
 nuity to be made by draft, signed by each trustee of 
 the said fund. But nothing herein contained shall 
 render any payment of said annuity obligatory upon 
 the said Board, or the said trustees, or chargeable as 
 matter of legal right." 
 
404 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE FERRIES. 
 
 TIBW YORK'S ONLV MEANS OF COMMUNICATION WITH THE MAIN LAND— NUMBER OF FBRRIES— 
 THE FERRY BOATS — CROSSING IN A FOG — ANNOYANCES OF FERRY TRAVEL— THE PKHRY 
 HOUSES — A MOONLIGHT RIDE ON A FBREY BOAT — A SUICIDE — ACCIDENTS. 
 
 The situation of New York being upon an island, 
 with a large portion of its population residing upon the 
 opposite shores of the waters which surround it, with 
 two large cities and several important towns lying op- 
 posite or near it, and with almost all of its principal 
 railway lines terminating on the New Jersey shore, one 
 of the chief needs of the city is an extensive and well- 
 arranged ferry system. The system has grown with 
 the necessities of the city, and now comprises about 
 twenty-six lines, plying between New York and the 
 shores of Long Island, West Chester County, New 
 Jersey, and Staten Island. Of these lines, fourteen are 
 to Brooklyn and adjacent points on Long Island, seven 
 to Jersey City and points on the New Jersey shore, 
 one to Harlem, one to Mott Haven, and two to Staten 
 Island. Ten lines cross the North River, and sixteen 
 the East River, and transport about 125,000,000 per- 
 sons annually, besides a vast number of vehicles of 
 every description. 
 
 As a rule, the ferries are well managed. The fare 
 to the Jersey shore is three cents, to Brooklyn two 
 cents, and to Staten Island ten cents. The boats run 
 regularly at frequent intervals, from six o'clock until 
 
406 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 midnight ; and on some of the lines, half hourly from 
 midnight to six o'clock in the morning. They are large 
 and powerful side-wheel steamers, constructed on the 
 double-end system, with a pilot-house at each end. 
 The centre is devoted to vehicles and horses, and on 
 each side is a comfortable cabin, with seats extending 
 the whole length of the boat ; one for ladies, the other 
 for men. They carry as many as looo passengers at 
 a single trip, at certain hours of the day, with a propor- 
 tionate load of vehicles. They are handsomely fitted 
 up, and on the principal lines are lighted with gas and 
 heated by steam. 
 
 The passage of the rivers is made quickly and with- 
 out difficulty in fair weather, but when the rivers are 
 filled with floating ice, or shrouded in heavy fogs, one 
 or more hours are sometimes consumed in a trip which 
 usually requires but a few minutes. During a fog the 
 trip is exciting beyond description. The dense mist 
 hides the entire river and the opposite shores from 
 view, and the pilots must trust to their compasses for 
 the accuracy of their course on such occasions. On 
 every hand is heard the hoarse whistle of steamers in 
 the river, and the tolling of the bells at the landings on 
 the shore. The boats proceed slowly and cautiously, 
 stopping frequently, and the passengers crowd to the 
 forward end, silent and anxious, and peering eagerly 
 into the gloom. A steamer glides by like a phantom 
 in the mist, and the next instant is lost, and oftentimes 
 grazes the side of the ferry boat sharply, narrowly 
 escaping a collision. At last, when the opposite shore 
 looms up dimly, and the boat glides slowly but surely 
 ' into her dock, the passengers breathe freely, thankful 
 
 ! 
 
ALONG THE RIVER FRONT. 
 
 407 
 
 that danger has once more been passed, and glad to 
 set foot again upon terra Jirma. 
 
 With the exception of a single line (the New York 
 Central), all the great trunk lines from the West and 
 South terminate in Jersey City, and few visitors to New 
 York enter the city without making the acquaintance 
 of the ferries. Thousands of persons doing business 
 in the city and residing in New Jersey, Brooklyn, Long 
 Island, or Staten Island, are dependent on them daily, 
 and are often subjected to vexatious delays in seasons 
 of fog, ice, or snow. 
 
 The ferry houses are handsome structures as a rule. 
 They are built of wood, and are provided with comfort- 
 able waiting rooms for the accommodation of passen- 
 gers. At the water's edge are slips with floating 
 bridges which can be lowered or raised with the ebb 
 and flow of the tide, and in these the boats lie securely 
 moored until the moment of departure arrives. 
 
 A constant stream of travel ebbs and flows across 
 the great rivers. From early morn until noon the rush 
 is towards New York, and in the afternoon and until 
 late at night the throng pours out of the city. 
 
 No greater pleasure can be enjoyed by the visitor to 
 the Metropolis than a ride over one of the ferries by 
 night. The river is alive with the lights of the vessels 
 lying in the stream, at anchor along the shores, or 
 gliding swiftly by over the dark waters. The long 
 rows of lamps on the opposite sides of the river 
 stretch away in unbroken lines of light The boats 
 are brilliantly lighted, and are filled with lively throngs. 
 Vessels glide swiftly and silently by, exchanging sig- 
 <ials by sharp blasts of a whistle or the tolling of bells. 
 
408 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 A party of strolling musicians enliven the scene with 
 the sounds of music, and the sharp click of the 
 machinery of the boat blends harmoniously with the 
 rush of the water as the steamer pursues its onward 
 course. Suddenly there is a rush to the side of the 
 boat, and a cry of alarm. A ghostly figure gleams for 
 a moment on the surface of the water and then disap- 
 pears. Some unhappy soul has sought refuge from the 
 sorrows of the world *'in the hush of the rolling river." 
 The boat is stopped, a careful lookout is kept, but the 
 suicide is seen no more, and the steamer resumes its 
 course. 
 
 Accidents are common on the ferry boats, especially 
 during fogs. Sometimes the loss of life is great; again 
 the only damage is that sustained by the boat Once 
 or twice a steamer has taken fire in mid stream, and 
 the disaster has been appalling. The boats are so 
 crowded, that in case of trouble a great loss of life is 
 inevitable. 
 
THE TOMBS. 
 
 409 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE PRISONS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 THE TOMBS — DESCRIPTION OF THE BUILDING THE INTERIOR — THE "BRIDGE OF SIGHS" 
 
 PLACE OF EXECUTION - THE MALE PRISON — THE CELLS — THE WOMEN's PRISON — THB 
 
 "bummers' hall" — THE WARDEn's OFFICE — THE "SWELL CELLS" — THE BOY's PRISON 
 
 RELIGIOUS services — GOVERNMENT OF THE TOMBS— WARDEN FINN — THE MATRON— A 
 PRISON OF DETENTION — NOTED ESCAPES FROM THE TOMBS — " BLACK MARIA " — THB 
 
 POLICE COURT — HOW PRISONERS ARE DISPOSED OF — THE COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS 
 
 THE "tombs shysters" — LUDLOW STREET JAIL — THB SHERIFF'S PRISON — IMPRISONMENT 
 FOR DEBT — CAPTIVE MILITIAMEN— FEDERAL PRISONERS— EXTORTIONS PRACTICED UPOW 
 PRISONERS- HOW THE DEPUTY SHERIFFS BLEED THEIR VICTIMS. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE TOMBS. 
 
 In official circles the principal prison of New York 
 is known as "The Halls of Justice," but the popular 
 name of the edifice is "The Tombs." It is a massive 
 structure of granite, in the Eg}^ptian style of architec- 
 ture, and occupies the square bounded by Centre, Elm, 
 Franklin and Leonard streets. It was erected be- 
 tween 1835 3.nd 1838, and occupies the site of the old 
 Collect Pond, from which the city was once supplied 
 with drinking water, and which was filled up in 1835- 
 The building is one of the most imposing structures 
 of the Metropolis, but its wretched situation, which is 
 in a deep hollow, sadly mars its appearance. It is 
 constructed of granite, in the shape of a parallelogram, 
 253 feet long by 200 feet deep. From the street it 
 appears but a single story in height, the lofty windows 
 being carried from a point a few feet above the ground, 
 almost to the cornice. The principal entrance is in 
 
410 
 
 NEW YORK, 
 
 Centre street, and is reached by a broad flight of dark 
 stone steps, which lead to a massive and gloomy 
 portico, supported by four immense Egyptian columns. 
 Projecting entrances and columns break the outer 
 walls on the other three sides, and give variety to the 
 otherwise monotonous style. The site of the prison is 
 
 THE TOMBS. 
 
 low, damp and unhealthy, and successive Grand Juries 
 have repeatedly condemned the building as unfit for 
 its purposes. It was built to accommodate about two 
 hundred prisoners, but of late years more than double # 
 that number have been confined in it. The founda- 
 tions have settled in some places to a considerable 
 
INTERIOR OF THE TOMBS. 
 
 411 
 
 extent, owing to the marshy character of the ground, 
 and the building has been pronounced unsafe. 
 
 Passing in through the gloomy entrance, the visitor 
 finds himself in a large courtyard, in the centre of 
 which stands a second prison, one hundred and forty- 
 two feet long by forty-five feet deep, containing one 
 hundred and fifty cells. This is the male prison, and 
 is entirely separated from the prison for females. It is 
 connected with the outer building by a bridge, known 
 as " the Bridge of Sighs," since all condemned prison- 
 ers pass over it on the way to their death. Executions 
 are always conducted here in private, and are witnessed 
 only by the officers of the law and such persons as 
 they see fit to admit. The gallows is set up in the 
 courtyard, near the Bridge of Sighs, and is taken down 
 as soon as the tragedy is over. 
 
 The male prison contains a lofty but narrow hall, 
 with four tiers of cells, opening upon the floor and 
 upon three iron galleries, one above another. Two 
 keepers are placed on duty in each gallery, to guard 
 the prisoners. The cells are intended for two occu- 
 pants, but are often forced to accommodate three. 
 Each tier has its particular uses. In some of the 
 ground-floor cells are placed the convicts or prisoners 
 under sentence ; the second tier is devoted to prisoners 
 charged with grave offences, such as murder, arson, and 
 the more serious crimes ; the third tier is for the ac- 
 commodation of prisoners charged with burglary, grand 
 larceny, and like crimes ; and the fourth tier is devoted 
 to persons accused of light offences. The cells on the 
 ground floor are the largest, while those of the fourth 
 tier are the smallest ; the former are very commodious. 
 
412 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 but the latter are scarcely large enough for two 
 inmates. 
 
 The woman's prison occupies the Leonard street 
 side of the Tombs, and contains fifty cells. It is in 
 charge of a matron. 
 
 The Franklin street side of the buildings was for- 
 merly fitted up as a station-house for the police of the 
 district, but it has lately been converted into a single 
 large hall. This is known as " the Bummers' Hall," 
 and here are confined the tramps, vagrants, and per- 
 sons arrested for drunkenness and disorder in the 
 streets. They are kept until the morning after their 
 arrest, when they are brought before the courts for 
 trial. Persons sentenced to confinement for ten days, 
 or for a shorter time, are also imprisoned here. 
 
 The Centre street side contains the offices and resi- 
 dence of the Warden, the Police Court, and the Court 
 af Special Sessions. Over the Centre street entrance 
 are six comfortable cells, for the use of prisoners who 
 can afford to pay for them. The windows of these 
 cells look out upon the street, so that the inmates are 
 not entirely separated from the world about them. 
 Forgers, defaulters, and criminals who have moved in 
 the higher walks of life, are the occupants of these 
 cells. The Boys' Prison is also located in the Centre 
 street side. 
 
 The Women's and Boys' Prisons are in charge of 
 the Sisters of Charity, who endeavor to minister to the 
 spiritual wants of the inmates. One of the rooms of 
 the prison is fitted up as a chapel, and religious services 
 are regularly held in it. The week is divided among 
 the various religfious denomination's, as follows : Sun- 
 
PRISON DISCIPLINE. 
 
 413 
 
 day and Tuesday mornings are given to the Roman 
 Catholics; Sunday and Tuesday afternoons to the 
 Episcopalians; Monday to the Methodists; and the 
 other days of the week to such other denominations as 
 may wish to avail themselves of them. Sometimes a 
 Protestant clerg>'man will hold religious services in the 
 corridor of the male prison, so that the prisoners may 
 listen to them in their cells. But little is accomplished 
 in this way, however, as the men pay no attention to 
 the service, and often drown the preacher's voice with 
 shouts, yells, and blasphemous cries. 
 
 The Tombs is in charge of a Warden, who is ap- 
 pointed by the Mayor of the city. Under him are two 
 Deputy Wardens, a Matron, and a sufficient force of 
 keepers to watch and guard the prisoners. The work 
 of the kitchen, and the cleansing and repairing, are 
 done by the boy prisoners, about thirty being so em- 
 ployed all the time. An abundance of good, plain food 
 is provided, and prisoners are permitted to purchase 
 provisions outside, or to receive them from their 
 friends. Changes of clothing are supplied by the fami- 
 lies of the inmates, but where these are too poor to 
 make such provision, the Warden furnishes the neces- 
 sary clothing at the expense of the city. Prisoners an.: 
 allowed to receive visits from their friends, who an: 
 permitted to provide them with books and other read- 
 ing matter ; and are required to exercise themselves 
 by walking for an hour every day around the gallery 
 of the tier on which their cells are located. They are 
 allowed to smoke, and to occupy themselves as they 
 please during the day, but are constantly kept locked 
 in their cells, except when out for exercise. No lights 
 
414 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 are allowed in the cells at night, as a precaution against 
 fire. The sanitary arrangements are admirable, and 
 are rigidly enforced, and it is said that, in spite of the 
 unhealthy location of the prison, no case of disease has 
 ever originated in it. This is remarkable, when one 
 considers the wretched condition in which many of the 
 captives are brought into the Tombs, saturated with 
 alcohol, or broken down from destitution or exposure. 
 
 The excellent condition of the prison is due chiefly 
 to the efforts of the Warden, Mr. James Finn, who has 
 held the position for many years. He is ably seconded 
 in the Women's and Boys' Prisons by the Matron, 
 Miss Flora Foster, who has been in the service of the 
 prison for thirty years. These admirable ofificials 
 acquire an influence over the prisoners which is sim- 
 ply wonderful when the desperate character of the 
 inmates is considered. 
 
 The Tombs is simply a prison of detention, where 
 persons charged with crime are confined until sentence 
 is passed upon them, after trial, by the Courts. About 
 50,000 prisoners are annually confined in it. As soon 
 as sentence is passed upon the prisoners, they are sent 
 to the prisons in which their terms are to be served, 
 unless the sentence is a capital one, when they are 
 detained here until execution. A constant watch is 
 kept, day and night, over those sentenced to death, to 
 prevent attempts at suicide; but in spite of all the 
 vigilance exercised, the condemned sometimes succeed 
 in putting an end to their lives and cheating the gal- 
 lows. The greater number of suicides are insane 
 persons, unhappy lovers, and ruined and deserted 
 women. 
 
ESCAPES FROM THE TOMBS. 
 
 415 
 
 Strong as it is, the Tombs has not always been able 
 to retain the prisoners immured in its cells. Previous 
 to the appointment of Warden Finn escapes were 
 common. On the ist of December, 1851, Henry A. 
 Clark made his escape, but was recaptured; on the 
 2d of August, 1864, James Hampton sprang through 
 the open window of the Police Court room, and got 
 away safely; later on Robert Green escaped from the 
 second tier of cells by using a forged visitor's ticket, in 
 broad day; on the i ith of April, 1859, six boys escaped 
 at four o'clock in the afternoon, from a window^ on the 
 Franklin street side; on the 6th of July, i860, Henry 
 Hawk escaped by answering to the name of another 
 prisoner who was summoned to receive his discharge; 
 on the 19th of September, 1863, Conrad Smith escaped 
 through the window of a second tier cell, after which 
 he scaled the outer wall and leaped from the top into 
 the street; and on the 19th of November, 1873, William 
 J. Sharkey, imprisoned for murder, escaped in daylight, 
 disguised in woman's clothes provided by his mistress, 
 who also gave him her visitor's ticket for the purpose 
 of passing the guards. These are the most noted es- 
 capes, but since Sharkey's performance, no prisoner 
 has ever succeeded in passing the gates of the Tombs 
 except in a legitimate manner. 
 
 In the service of the Tombs is a peculiar vehicle, 
 known as "Black Maria." It is a strong, enclosed 
 wagon with a door at the rear end, and with wooden 
 blinds around the upper part of the sides, for light and 
 ventilation. It is used for conveying prisoners from 
 the police stations to the Tombs, and from that prison 
 to the steamer on which they are transported to Black- 
 well's Island. 
 
416 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE TOMBS COURTS OF JUSTICE. 
 
 The Police Court sits in a hall in the Centre street 
 side of the Tombs, and is presided over by a Police 
 Justice, who administers the law in a sharp, decisive 
 way. It is opened every morning at an early hour, and 
 on Sunday morning at six o'clock. The Justice is well 
 acquainted with the class of offenders brought before 
 him, and often startles some old sinner by suddenly 
 bringing up some portion of his life that will not bear 
 examining. His time is precious, and he despatches 
 each case with a promptness and celerity that astonish 
 a stranger. 
 
 They are a queer set who come before the Justice at 
 his morning session. Some are old offenders and are 
 well known; a few are on trial for the first time. They 
 started out the night before to see the sights and have 
 a good time, and now find themselves called to answer 
 to the law for their conduct. Drunk and disorderly is 
 the charge against the majority of the prisoners. Some 
 of the offenders are women, and others mere children, 
 arrested for vagrancy or minor offences. The Justice 
 hears each case as it is brought before him, disposes 
 of it promptly, and either releases the prisoner with a 
 fine or a warning, sends him on for trial in a higher 
 Court, or commits him to the Tombs for ten days or to 
 one of the institutions on Blackwell's Island for a 
 longer period. First offences are dealt with as leni- 
 ently as the law will allow, but old offenders receive 
 severe punishments. Though a stern foe to vice and 
 crime, the Justice is disposed to be as lenient as pos- 
 sible with those who are unfortunate, and often sends 
 
i 
 
THE COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS. 417 
 
 a prisoner away with sound good advice, when the un- 
 fortunate has expected a harsh sentence. It is impos- 
 sible for a criminal to deceive him, and he sternly puts 
 down all attempts at sham innocence or mock peni- 
 tence. During- the sessions of the Court, many persons 
 come to him with complaints against other parties. He 
 listens to them patiently, and where their cases are not 
 provided for by the law, kindly advises them as to the 
 proper course to pursue. By ten o'clock the business 
 of the Court is generally over, and the Justice is off 
 duty until the next morning. 
 
 The Court of Special Sessions is held in the large 
 Egyptian hall on the right of the Centre street entrance 
 to the Tombs. It is devoted entirely to criminal 
 matters, and here are tried the cases which are too 
 important to be settled by the Tombs or other Police 
 Courts. Two judges constitute the Court, but its 
 sessions are often presided over by a single judge. 
 Prisoners are defended here by counsel, and are al- 
 lowed to introduce witnesses in their own behalf The 
 Court has jurisdiction over all misdemeanors, and as 
 there is no jury trial in this Court, the accused has his 
 choice of a trial here before the judges, or a trial in the 
 Court of General Sessions, before a jury. " His decision 
 must be made in writing, and he cannot retract it when 
 once made. Capital cases, burglaries, and the more 
 serious charges are sent to the higher Courts for trial. 
 
 Hovering around the Special Sessions and the 
 Police Court, is a species of lawyer known as "The 
 Tombs Shyster." These men are licensed practitioners, 
 but are without standing in their profession. They 
 accost prisoners awaiting trial, and offer to defend 
 
 27 
 
418 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 them for any sum, from fifty cents to whatever amount 
 the person is willing to pay. If the prisoner has no 
 money the shyster will take his pay out in any kind of 
 personal property that can be pawned or' sold. He is 
 not particular. He earns a precarious living, and is 
 glad to receive anything for his services. He rarely 
 succeeds in procuring the acquittal of his client, but 
 collects his fee all the same. 
 
 III. 
 
 LUDLOW STREET JAIL. 
 
 Just north of Grand street, and in the shadow of the 
 Essex Market, from which it is separated by a narrow 
 alley, is a gloomy looking brick edifice, fronting on 
 Ludlow street, and extending back to Essex street. 
 This is Ludlow Street Jail, the prison of the county of 
 New York. It is sometimes called "The Sheriff's 
 Prison." All persons arrested under process issued 
 by the Sheriff of the county of New York are im- 
 prisoned here. 
 
 The majority of the prisoners are arrested for debt. 
 Although imprisonment for debt is forbidden by the 
 Constitution of the State, it is easy for a creditor to 
 consign a debtor to the cells of this prison. He has 
 only to appear before the proper Court and make oath 
 that his debtor is about leaving the State without pay- 
 ing him the amount due him. An order of arrest is 
 at once issued by the Court, and the unfortunate 
 debtor is arrested by the Sheriff, or by one of his 
 deputies, and consigned to Ludlow Street Jail. Mem- 
 bers of the National Guard arrested for violations of 
 
IMPRISONMENT FOR DEBT. 
 
 419 
 
 the laws governing- that orcranization are also confined 
 here, and these constitute a large class of the inmates. 
 The United States Courts also send their prisoners 
 here, the General Government paying the county a 
 certain sum per day for the accommodations furnished 
 such persons. The prison contains a number of ex- 
 cellent rooms, which prisoners who are willing to pay. 
 liberally for such comforts are allowed to occupy. 
 
 LUDLOW STREET JAIL. 
 
 The charges are extortionate, but the ordinary accom- 
 modations provided by the county are so wretched, that 
 those who have the means will pay any price to obtain 
 better quarters. 
 
 Perhaps no class of prisoners in New York are 
 subject to such extortions as the unhappy persons 
 confined in Ludlow Street Jail. Before reaching the * 
 prison they are obliged to pass through the hands of 
 
420 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 the Sheriff's deputies, who receive no salaries, and are 
 dependent for support upon the sums they can extort 
 from their victims. No favor will be granted unless 
 liberally paid for, and persons unacquainted with the 
 lawful charges of the establishment are fleeced un- 
 mercifully. 
 
 When a man is arrested by a deputy sheriff and de- 
 sires to give bail, he is taken to the Sheriff's office, and 
 his friends who are likely to become his sureties are 
 sent for. The law requires that a reasonable time shall 
 be allowed him in which to find bail. If, however, he 
 wishes to leave the Sheriff's office, he can do so only 
 by feeing a deputy, and the amount demanded is in 
 proportion to the prisoner's probable means. A man 
 of wealth, if his bail be fixed at a large amount, not 
 infrequently pays several hundred dollars a day for the 
 privilege of being at large in the company of a deputy 
 Sheriff. When the bondsmen appear, a charge of 
 $1 1.75 is made for giving a bond. The law fixing the 
 Sheriff's fees says that the charge for giving a bail 
 bond shall be 37 cents; but this is interpreted to mean 
 simply for signing the bond, and by making charges 
 for drawing the bond, for a searcher's work in ascer- 
 taining the standing of the bondsmen, and for several 
 notary fees, the above amount is reached. Lawyers 
 assert that as high as $21.75 has been charged, depu- 
 ties making any charge they think will be paid, failing 
 to pay which the defendant is incarcerated in Ludlow 
 Street Jail. !n many cases it is expected that the de- 
 fendant's attorney, if he has one, will make no objection 
 . to the extortionate charge, and will not enlighten his 
 client as to the legal fee. 
 
FLEECING THE PRISONERS. 
 
 421 
 
 It is also alleged that the Sheriff's deputies refrain 
 from serving an order of arrest if $io to $20 i^ forth- 
 coming, and if the defendant shows a willingness to 
 submit, the deputy repeats the process, until finally the 
 plaintiff in the action compels the arrest to be made. 
 Another common practice is to delay serving an order 
 of arrest until after four o'clock, at which hour the 
 Sheriffs office is closed. The arrested man is then 
 willing to pay a considerable sum to have the order 
 withheld until the next day, or to have his bonds taken 
 at the deputy's house. Lawyers also say diat no bail 
 bond will be accepted at the Sheriffs office except one 
 drawn there, the reason given being that the bond 
 must be " satisfactory to the Sheriff." This is under- 
 stood to mean that no bond will be considered "satis- 
 factory" unless it is drawn in the Sheriff's office and 
 can be charged for. 
 
 Efforts have been made by the Bar Association to 
 put a stop to these abuses, but so far without success. 
 
422 
 
 NEW YORKp 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 PUBLIC SQUARES. 
 
 MB BATTBRY PARK— ITS HISTORY— THE BATTERY IN OLD TIMES— ITS PRBSBNT CONDITIOH— ii 
 DKLIGHTFUL BREATHING PLACE — THE BARGE OFFICE — THE BOWLING GREEN — THE CITY 
 HALL PARK — TOMPKINS SQUARE — SQUANDERING THE PUBLIC FUNDS — A FINK PARK RUINED — 
 WASHINGTON SQUARE — UNION SQUARE AND ITS SURROUNDINGS — THE " SLAVE MARKET " 
 — STUYVESANT SQUARE — MADISON SQUARE — A DELIGHTFUL PLEASURE-GROUND — MAGNIFI- 
 CBNT SURROUNDINGS — GRAMMERCY PARK — RESERVOIR SQUARE — MOUNT MORRIS SQUARE— 
 MORNINGSIDB PABK- RIVERSIDE PARK. 
 
 Besides the Central Park, New York contains a 
 number of smaller pleasure grounds, all of which, with 
 one exception, are tastefully laid off and handsomely 
 ornamented with shrubbery, and some with statues and 
 fountains. 
 
 Beginning at the lower end of the city, the first of 
 these is Battery Park, which comprises an area of 
 twenty-one acres, and occupies the extreme southern- 
 most point of Manhattan Island. It derives its name 
 from the battery, built on the site by order of the Eng- 
 lish authorities, in 1734. The old Dutch fort, built by 
 the original settlers of Manhattan Island, was erected 
 on the spot now occupied by the Bowling Green, At 
 this time the point of the island was rocky and swampy, 
 but in 1792, after the independence of the country had 
 been won, measures were begun for filling up the site 
 and laying it off as a public park, and since then it has 
 been used for that purpose. Until about thirty-five 
 years ago, it was the favorite, as well as the handsom- 
 est, pleasure ground in the city, and was surrounded 
 by stately residences, occupied by wealthy and leading 
 
THE BATTERY PARK. 
 
 423 
 
 citizens. Trade at length invaded this region, and the 
 Upper Ten were driven higher up the island; the 
 stately residences gave place to warehouses and of- 
 fices, and the Battery was neglected. It became a 
 rendezvous for tramps, and the favorite dumping- 
 ground for all sorts of rubbish. What was once the 
 pride and boast of the city became one of its greatest 
 nuisances. Such a state of affairs could not continue 
 long, however, and in 1869 the park was redeemed. 
 The General Government built a massive sea-wall 
 some distance into the water, and the park was ex- 
 tended to it, thus greatly enlarging its area The rub- 
 bish which had accumulated here was carted away, 
 and further deposits were prohibited under severe 
 penalties ; the old rookeries and street-venders' stands 
 which had accumulated about Castle Garden were re- 
 moved, and the Battery was laid off into a handsome 
 and well-arranged park. 
 
 The Battery is handsomely planted with shade trees, 
 flowers, and shrubbery, and is provided with broac; 
 stone walks, which traverse it in every direction. Ir 
 the centre is a tasteful music pavilion, where ^concerts , 
 are given by the city band at stated times in the warn: . 
 season ; and close by is a tall flag-staff, from which the 
 national ensign floats proudly in the breeze. A mas- 
 sive sea-wall of granite forms the water front, and is 
 provided with broad stairways leading down to the 
 water. At the northern end, projecting into the Bay, 
 is Castle Garden, the famous emigrant depot, of which 
 more elsewhere; and at the southern end, on the 
 water s edge, is the barge office of the Custom House, 
 aji elegant granite edifice in the Byzantine style of 
 
424 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 architecture. This is the headquarters of the various 
 boats used in the revenue service of the United States 
 in these waters, and when completed will also be de- 
 voted to the reception of passengers from the Europe- 
 an steamers and their baggage, during the examina- 
 tion by the Customs officials. The eastern portion of 
 the Park is traversed by the line of the New York Ele- 
 vated Railroad, which has one of its principal stations 
 at the South Ferry, just beyond the limits of the 
 grounds. 
 
 The Battery is by far the coolest place in New York 
 in summer. Here one may escape from the heats of 
 the city, and enjoy the delicious sea-breeze which 
 sweeps in unobstructed from the blue water, which can 
 be faintly seen beyond the Narrows. The Inner Bay, 
 a portion of the East River, the Hudson, with Brook- 
 lyn, the islands of the Bay and their fortifications, and 
 Jersey City, and the shipping in the harbor, and the 
 wharves, are full in sight, and make up one of the 
 grandest views to be seen on earth. 
 
 The Bowling Green is the name given to a small, 
 circular .space at the lower end of Broadway. It is 
 well shaded, is filled with pretty shrubbery and flowers, 
 and is ornamented with a fountain in the centre. It 
 was the first public pleasure-ground laid out in New 
 York, and dates from 1734. In 1711, a leaden statue 
 of George III, of England, was erected where the foun- 
 tain now stands. It was pulled down at the outbreak 
 of the Revolution, and the metal was run into bullets 
 for the use of Washington's army. 
 
 The City Hall Park, or "The Park" as it is termed 
 by old residents, is located about a mile above the 
 
TOMPKINS SQUARE. 
 
 425 
 
 Battery, and contains the City Hall and the County 
 Buildings. It originally comprised eleven acres ot 
 ground, and was shaded with fine old trees. The. 
 city, about ten years ago, ceded to the General Gov- 
 ernment the extreme southern portion of the Park, as 
 a site for a new Post Office, and this grand edifice has 
 now considerably reduced the size of the Park. What 
 is left is a large open space of several acres, laid out 
 with walks, a fountain, trees, and shrubbery. It is the 
 main thoroughfare between Broadway and the streets 
 lying east of the Park. 
 
 Tompkins Squai^e constitutes the only breathing 
 space in the terribly overcrowded tenement house 
 districts of the eastern side of the city. It comprises 
 an area of ten acres, bounded by Avenues A and B 
 and 7th and loth streets. It was presented to the 
 city about half a century ago, by John Jacob Astor, as 
 *'a place of healthful recreation" for the masses. Since 
 then it has cost the city more money than any public 
 square within its limits. At the time it became public 
 property it was adorned with noble shade trees and 
 shrubbery, was laid off with pleasant walks, and the 
 surface was perfectly level. Some years ago the city 
 authorities were seized with a desire to diversify its 
 surface with artificial hills, and laborers were at once 
 set to work to make the so-called improvements. 
 Half of the trees w^ere cut down, and the work on the 
 grounds, which was simply a political job, lagged. 
 Then it was decided to convert it into a drill ground, 
 or "Military Plaza," and the surface was again leveled, 
 and the remainder of the trees swept away. By this 
 time the Astor family had become disgusted with the 
 
426 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 manner in which their ancestor's wish to Drovide a 
 place of pleasant resort had been set aside, and they 
 brought suit against the city to recover the property, 
 basing their claim upon the plain fact that it had been 
 diverted from the use for which it was given. The 
 authorities then inaugurated another change. The 
 drill ground was to be changed to a park again, and 
 the work was immediately begun. It is still in progress. 
 
 Washington Square lies at the lower end of Fifth 
 avenue, three blocks west of Broadway. It is bounded 
 by Waverley Place, McDougal street, West Fourth 
 street, and University Place. It comprises an area of 
 eight acres, and contains some of the noblest trees in 
 the city. A handsome fountain occupies the centre of 
 the Square, and the grounds are tastefully laid off. On 
 the east side of the Square are a Lutheran Church and 
 the Gothic edifice of the University of New York. 
 
 Union Square lies between Broadway and Fourth 
 avenue, and extends from 14th to 17th streets. It is 
 about three and a half acres in extent, and contains a 
 number of fine shade trees. In the centre is a hand- 
 some ornamental fountain, and flowers and shrubbery 
 give to the place an air of beauty in the spring and 
 summer. Near the fountain is a prett}' cottage, con- 
 taining toilet rooms for ladies and children on the main 
 floor, and accommodations for gentlemen in the base- 
 ment. A broad plaza borders the Square on the 
 northern side, along 1 7th street, and here is arranged 
 a long row of ornamental gas-lamps, which on special 
 occasions illuminate the Square. Along the southern 
 border, or 1 4th street side, are statues of Washington, 
 Lafayette, and Lincoln. 
 
UNION SQUARE. 
 
 427 
 
 Union Square lies in the centre of one of the busiest 
 and brightest portions of New York. Broadway 
 sweeps around it, with its rows of magnificent buildings, 
 and the 14th street and Fourth avenue sides rival the 
 great thoroughfare in their grand edifices. The south- 
 east corner of Broadway and 14th street is marked by 
 the Union Place Hotel, next door to which is the Union 
 Square Theatre, and immediately opposite, across 
 Broadway, towers the superb iron building of the Do- 
 mestic Sewing Machine Company. On the east side^ 
 facing on Fourth avenue, are the Union Square and 
 Clarendon Hotels ; the Everett House faces the Square 
 on 17th street, and on Broadway are Tiffany's and sev - 
 eral of the finest stores in the city. Everything is 
 bright and lively. Crowds line the sidewalks of the 
 streets surrounding the Square, and pour along its 
 broad walks, by day and night ; and after nightfall 
 the dazzling rays of the electric lights illuminate the 
 pretty grounds, with a brilliancy almost equal to that 
 of day. Several of the leading places of amusement 
 are in close proximity to Union Square, and this cause.s 
 it to be thronged until a late hour of the night. The 
 neiorhborhood is also a favorite rendezvous with the 
 
 o 
 
 members of the theatrical profession, to whom that; 
 portion of 14th street opposite the Washington statufr 
 is known as "The Slave Market," in consequence oi 
 the large number of actors always to be found hangin^);^ 
 around there in summer, looking for engagements. 
 
 Stuyvesant Square lies to the east of Union Square, 
 between 15th and 17th streets, and covers an area of 
 a little more than four acres. It is bisected by Second 
 avenue, and each of its two sections is enclosed with 
 
428 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 ^in iron fence, the gates of which are locked at night. 
 The grounds are prettily laid out, and are filled with 
 shrubbery and flowers. In the centre of each portion 
 of the square is a tasteful fountain. The ground was 
 presented to the city by the late Peter G. Stuyvesant. 
 The streets surrounding it are occupied by elegant pri- 
 vate residences, and on the west side is St. George's 
 Episcopal Church, one of the handsomest religious 
 edifices in New York. 
 
 Madison Square is the prettiest of all the smaller 
 parks of New York, and is situated in the most attract- 
 *'ive portion of the city. It lies between Broadway and 
 Fifth avenue and Madison avenue, and 23d and 26th 
 streets, and is six acres in extent. The iron fence 
 which formerly enclosed it was removed some years 
 ago, and this imparts to it an air of space, which is 
 heightened by an open area in the midst of which it lies. 
 It is well shaded by noble trees, and fairly smiles with 
 ^ay flowers in the summer. A fine fountain in the 
 centre is one of its chief attractions, and around it 
 gather, on fair mornings, crowds of children and nurses 
 from the neighboring fashionable streets. A bronze 
 statue of William H. Seward ornaments the south- 
 western corner, while at the northwest corner is the 
 noble statue of Admiral Farragut, also of bronze. At 
 night the grounds are well lighted by the electric lamps 
 on Broadway and Fifth avenue. The Fifth Avenue 
 Hotel, and the Albemarle and Hoffman Houses face 
 it on the west, while on the north is the Hotel Bruns- 
 wick, opposite which, across Fifth avenue, is the 
 towering Hotel Victoria. 23d street is lined with 
 elegant stores, and superb private mansions and a 
 
 4 
 
» 
 
430 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Presbyterian Church rise along the Madison avenue 
 side. So bright and beautiful are the park and all its 
 surroundings, so full of life and gayety, so eloquent of 
 wealth and splendor, is every object within view, that 
 it is hard to realize that a little more than sixty years 
 ago the pretty Square was used by the city as a Potter's 
 Field, the last resting-place of the poor and wretched. 
 
 Grammercy Park lies between Third and Fourth, 
 avenues, and extends from 20th to 21st street It 
 separates Irving Place from Lexington avenue, and is 
 a small enclosure belonging to a number of gentlemen 
 of wealth living around it. It is a pretty spot, and 
 being private property, is kept locked, and is used only 
 for the recreation of its owners and their families. 
 Peter Cooper, Cyrus W. Field, Moses Taylor, Ex- 
 Governor Tilden, and a number of other well-known 
 citizens reside here. 
 
 Reservoir Square is a small enclosure lying between 
 Sixth avenue and the Distributing Reservoir on Fifth 
 avenue and 40th and 42d streets. It occupies the site 
 of the Crystal Palace, in which the World's Fair (the 
 first international exhibition of America) was held, in 
 1853. The building was d'estroyed by fire in 1858, 
 
 Mount Morris Square covers an area of twenty 
 acres, and lies on the line of Fifth avenue, which sweeps 
 around it on the east and west sides, between i 20th 
 and 124th streets. It is a favorite resort for the 
 residents of Harlem and the vicinity. In the centre a 
 rocky hill, ornamented with an observatory, rises to a 
 height of one hundred feet. 
 
 Morningside Park commences about five hundred 
 feet from the northwestern corner of the Central Park, 
 
RIVERSIDE PARK. 
 
 431 
 
 at I loth street, and extends to 123d street. It has an 
 average breadth of about six hundred feet, and com- 
 prises an area of about forty-seven acres. It is one 
 of the unfinished parks of the city, and will not be 
 completed for several years at least. 
 
 Riverside Park lies between Riverside avenue and 
 the Hudson River, and extends from 7 2d to 130th 
 street. It is irregular in shape, is nearly three miles 
 long, has an average breadth of five hundred feet, and 
 contains one hundred and seventy-eight acres. It is 
 still unfinished, though the walks and drives have been 
 laid out, and afford fine views of the river and the 
 picturesque heights of Weehawken, on the New Jersey 
 shore. Real estate men confidently predict that its 
 vicinity will become the most fashionable residence 
 quarter of New York. 
 
432 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE PAWNBROKERS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 WB SIGN OP THE THREE BALLS— LAWS RESPECTING PAWNBROKERS — HOW LICENSES ARE ISSUBI>— 
 DISREGARD OF THE LAW BY THE PAWNBROKERS — SOURCES OF PROFIT — EXCESSIVE INTEREST — 
 STORAGE CHARGES — SALES OF UNREDEEMED GOODS — WHO ARE THE PAWNBROKERS — ^THB 
 JEWS — A DISHONEST CLASS — SUCKING THE LIFE BLOOD OF THE POOR — HOW CUSTOMERS AK» 
 SWINDLED — CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN A PAWN SHOP — THE JEWS' ONE PER CENT. — AN INSIUR 
 VIEW OF THE BUSINESS — DRUMMING UP CUSTOM. 
 
 The stranger in passing through East Broadway, the 
 Bowery, Chatham, Oliver, Division, Catharine, Grand, 
 Canal, Broome, or the neighboring streets, is struck 
 with the number of quiet, dingy-looking shops over 
 which are suspended the old sign of the Lombards — 
 three gilt balls. These shops and the three-ball signs, 
 •all of the latter more or less dingy, may be seen in 
 many other quarters of the city, but they are nowhere 
 so numerous as in the streets named above, which are 
 centres of the abodes of poverty and wretchedness. 
 These are pawnbrokers' shops, and, as a rule, their 
 proprietors are harpies, who suck the life blood of the 
 poor, and grow rich upon their miseries. Of course, 
 in all large cities there must of necessity be a great 
 aggregation of poverty and misery. To the poor the 
 pawnbroker is a necessity. They must have some 
 place to which they can repair at once, and, by pledging 
 such articles as they possess, raise the pittance they so 
 sorely need. Municipal legislators the world over 
 recognize this necessity, and endeavor to throw such 
 safeguards around the business of pawnbroking that 
 the poor shall not be entirely at the mercy of the 
 
LAWS RESPECTING PAWNBROKERS. 43^ 
 
 brokers. In Great Britain the business is regulated 
 by stringent laws, and in Continental Europe nearly- 
 all the Governments have taken it into their own 
 hands, and have organized vast establishments, known 
 as Monts de Piete, where those in need of such assist- 
 ance can obtain small loans on articles of almost every 
 description. At these Government establishments the 
 poor are treated fairly, the rate of interest charged is 
 low, and every opportunity for the redemption of the 
 property pledged is afforded. 
 
 In New York, the law requires that licenses to do 
 business as pawnbrokers shall be issued to none but 
 persons of known good character. The Mayor of the 
 city alone has the power of issuing such licenses, and 
 Mayors of all parties have been in the habit of putting 
 a very liberal construction upon the law. None but 
 those so licensed can do business in New York. 
 "Mayors of all cliques and parties," says the Report 
 of the New York Prison Association, "have exercised 
 their power with, apparently, little sense of the re- 
 sponsibility which rests upon them. They have not,, 
 ordinarily at least, required clear proof of the integrity 
 of the applicants, but have usually licensed every 
 applicant possessed of political influence. There is 
 scarcely an instance where they have revoked a license 
 thus granted, even when they have been furnished 
 with proofs of the dishonesty of the holders." 
 
 Section Eight of the Statute relating to pawnbrokers 
 endeavors to impose some restraint upon their oper- 
 ations by declaring that "No pawnbroker shall ask, 
 demand, or receive any greater rate of interest than 
 twenty-five per cent, per annum upon any loan not 
 
 28 
 
434 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 exceeding the sum of twenty-five dollars, or than seven 
 per cent, per annum upon any loan exceeding the sum 
 of twenty-five dollars, under the penalty of one hun- 
 dred dollars for every such offence." 
 
 As a matter of fact, none of the pawnbrokers pay the 
 least attention to this law. They know that the great 
 majority of their customers are ignorant of the provi- 
 sions of the statute, and that those who are familiar 
 with it will not avail themselves of its protection, as 
 they fear to lose the favor of the pawnbroker. Conse- 
 quently they fix their own rates of interest, which may 
 be said to average about three per cent, for a month, 
 or any fractional part of a month, or thirty-six per cent, 
 a year. Some of the more unscrupulous members of 
 the fraternity, whose dealings are exclusively with the 
 poor, charge a much higher rate, extorting as much as 
 fifty per cent, from those whose needs are very great 
 
 Apart from the money received for interest, the 
 pawnbrokers charge their customers exorbitant sums 
 for storing in places of safety the articles left in their 
 keeping. "On diamonds, watches, jewelry, silver- ware, 
 opera-glasses, articles of vertu, ten per cent, on the 
 amount loaned, over and above the interest, for what 
 is called putting them away in the safes. On coats, 
 vests, pants, dresses, cloaks, skirts, basques, from 
 twenty cents to one dollar is charged for hanging up. 
 On laces, silks, velvets, shawls, etc., from twenty-five 
 cents to one dollar for putting away in bureau, ward- 
 robe, or drawer. For wrappers, from fifteen to fifty 
 cents is charged. Persons offering goods done up in 
 papers are compelled to hire a wrapper, or the pawn- 
 broker refuses to advance. The wrapper is simply a 
 
PROFITS OF PAWNBROKERS. 
 
 435 
 
 dirty piece of old muslin. The hire of one of diese 
 wrappers has been known to amount to over five dol- 
 lars in one year. Upon trunks, valises, beds, pillows, 
 carpets, tool-chests, musical instruments, sewing ma- 
 chines, clocks, pictures, etc., in propordon to their bulk, 
 from one to five dollars is charged for storage." 
 
 Another source of profit to the pawnbroker arises 
 from the sale of unredeemed articles. Advances are 
 made at so low a rate that the property pledged is sure 
 to bring more when put up for sale than the sum 
 loaned upon it. The law requires that the amount re- 
 ceived at such sales, over and above the pawnbroker's 
 just claims, shall be returned to the depositor. The 
 pawnbrokers, however, trouble themselves as little 
 about this law as about that regulating interest. They 
 coolly pocket the whole amount received, and the owner 
 of the goods pledged loses the sum rightfully due him. 
 Here, again, the pawnbroker trades upon his custom- 
 er's ignorance of the law. 
 
 The majority of the pawnbrokers of New York are 
 Jews, and are among the most rascally of that race. 
 They do not monopolize the business, however, for 
 there are a number of Englishmen, Irishmen, and even 
 Americans, engaged in it. The more honest dealers 
 are found among the Americans and Englishmen. 
 The Jew pawnbroker is by nature a scoundrel, and so 
 far as the observation of the writer goes, has not one 
 redeeming quality. He advances the smallest amounts 
 on goods pledged, extorts the highest rates of inter- 
 est, and is the most merciless in his dealings with 
 customers, of any of the fraternity. The Jews are so 
 numerous in this business that they have given it its 
 
436 NEW YORK. 
 
 peculiar reputation. These wretches suck the very 
 life blood from the poor, and having gotten possession 
 of their property, do not hesitate to sell it for many 
 times its value, when they see an opportunity^ of doing 
 so. When the owner comes for his or her property, 
 the pawnbroker declares, with well feigned regret,, 
 that it cannot be found, and either turns the owner out 
 of doors, or buys up his pawn ticket at a heavy discount. 
 He knows that the poor customer is in his power, and 
 has neither the means nor the inclination to seek re- 
 dress at law. These wretches do not hesitate to deck 
 their families out in the clothing, shawls and jewelry 
 pledged to them. Often the clothes are worn out, 
 and the return of the pledge is either refused, or the 
 articles are restored in such a damaged condition as 
 to be useless. Sometimes a spirited depositor will 
 demand full redress for the loss so inflicted upon him, 
 and will threaten the broker with an appeal to the 
 Courts. If the broker is convinced that the depositor 
 is in earnest, he settles up promptly; but there is an 
 end to his dealings with that person. He has no wish 
 to have his transactions brought to the light of justice. 
 Such a proceeding would bring unpleasant conse- 
 quences in its train, and he does not desire such 
 customers. 
 
 The majority of the pawn shops are dirty and repul- 
 sive in appearance. Before each hangs the sign of the 
 three balls, and the windows are filled with unredeemed 
 pledges for sale, and are adorned with signs stating 
 that money is loaned here on all kinds of property at 
 the most liberal rates. Pushing open the dirty door, 
 we enter a dingy apartment. The air is close and 
 
AN INTERVIEW WITH MINE UNCLE." 
 
 437 
 
 stuffy, and the room smells strongly of garlic or onions. 
 A man with an unmistakeably Jewish face and a villain- 
 ous expression of countenance stands behind the nar- 
 row counter, the greater part of which is partitioned 
 off from the public part of the room. We take our 
 stand, invisibly, of course, and watch the proceedings. 
 
 A young man enters, well dressed, and rather dissi- 
 pated in appearance. The child of Abraham watches 
 him narrowly, and begins to shake his head and groan, 
 as if in pain. The visitor approaches the counter, and 
 lays a gold watch upon it. The broker clutches it 
 eagerly, examines it, and groans louder than ever. 
 
 **Vat you vant on dis vatch?" he asks, mournfully. 
 
 "Fifty dollars. It cost me one hundred and fifty/" 
 is the reply. 
 
 "Fifty tollar! fifty tollar! Holy Moshish, vat you take 
 me for!" Then, turning, he calls wildly, "Abraham! 
 Abraham! you shust koom hier, quick." 
 
 A second Jew, dirtier and more disreputable looking 
 than the first, makes his appearance, and the proprietor, 
 passing the watch to him, and holding up his hands,, 
 shrieks out, as if in despair, 
 
 "Abraham! he vant fifty tollar on dat vatch. De 
 man ish grazy." 
 
 "Ve shall be ruined," echoes Abraham, hoarsely. 
 " Ve couldn't do it. Tish too much." 
 
 The proprietor waves his arms wildly, takes the 
 watch from Abraham, and eyeing the owner sharply 
 for a moment, says : — 
 
 "I tell you vat I do. I gif you fifteen tollar. How 
 long you vant de monish ? " 
 
 ''Only for a month," replies the young man, evidently 
 struggling between disgust and despair. 
 
438 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 "I let you haf fifteen tollar for de month," says the 
 pawnbroker, seizing a ticket, and commencing to make 
 it out. "You pays me vone tollar for de loan, an you 
 pays me fifty cent to put de vatch in de safe, you know. 
 It might git shtole if I leaf it out hier. Dat shuit you, 
 mine young frient?" 
 
 The young man has "been there" before, and knows 
 that remonstrance is useless. He nods a silent affirm- 
 ative, and the pawnbroker makes out a ticket for 
 fifteen dollars, and hands him thirteen dollars and fifty 
 cents, having deducted the interest and the charge for 
 storage. The young man receives the money and the 
 ticket, and goes out in silence. 
 
 "Dat ish peesness," says Abraham, admiringly, as 
 the proprietor puts the watch away. 
 
 " Yesh," mutters the pawnbroker, with a satisfied air. 
 "De vatch ish vort a hundred tollar. If he don't take 
 it up, it vill bring us dat." 
 
 The next customer is a poor woman, who comes to 
 pledge some article of household use. She is ground 
 down to the lowest cent, and charged the highest in- 
 terest; and so the proceedings go on until we become 
 heart-sick, and leave the place as invisibly as we came. 
 
 The principal dealings of the pawnbrokers are, as 
 we have said, with the poor. Life is hard in New 
 York, and those who dwell under the shadow are 
 obliged to make great sacrifices of comfort to keep 
 body and soul together. Everything that will bring 
 money finds ks way to the pawn shop, and the miser- 
 able pittance received for it goes to provide food. Too 
 often articles of household use or clothing are pawned 
 to raise money for drink, and the> possessions of the 
 
VARIOUS KINDS OF PAWNBROKERS. 
 
 439 
 
 family are one by one sacrificed for this wretched pur- 
 pose, until nothing is left. 
 
 The pawnbroker finds a very profitable class of 
 customers in the respectable working people of the 
 city. Many of these regularly pawn articles, sometimes 
 of value, at the first of the week, and redeem them 
 when they receive their wages on Saturday. It is to 
 the broker's interest to be obliging to these people,* 
 since they are regular customers, and he reaps a rich 
 harvest from them in the exorbitant interest they pay 
 him. 
 
 It is the common belief that the pawnbrokers are 
 also receivers of stolen goods. Some of the more un- 
 scrupulous may make ventures of this kind, but as a 
 rule the brokers have nothing to do with the thieves ; 
 the risk of detection is too great, so they confine them- 
 selves to what they term their "legitimate business," 
 and leave dealings in stolen property to the "fences," 
 who constitute a distinct class, and to whom we shall 
 refer in another chapter. 
 
 Another class of pawnbrokers do not own shops, or 
 even offices. They conduct their business by calling 
 at private houses, and asking if the ladies of the house 
 wish any money advanced on jewelry or fine articles 
 of clothing. Should they meet with a rebuff in the 
 parlor they pass on to the kitchen, and rarely fail to 
 find a customer in "Biddy." These dealers conduct 
 large transactions; their customers are mainly ladies, 
 who do not wish their dealings with them to be known; 
 and the obliging pawnbroker usually adds one or two 
 per cent, more to his charges to pay for his silence on 
 the subject. 
 
440 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE CENTRAL PARK. 
 
 IrlJ^NS FOR A GRAND PARK — CHOICE OF A SITE— THE PARK COMMISSION ORGANIZED— DIFFlCTrt^ 
 TIBS IN THE WAY — THE WORK BEGUN — THE RESULT — THE CENTRAL PARK OF TO-DAY— COST 
 
 OF THE PARK — THE UPPER AND LOWER PARKS — THE ENTRANCES — THE POND THE OLO 
 
 ARSENAL — THE MENAGERIE — THE METEOROLOGICAL . OBSERVATORY — THE BALL GROUND — 
 THE DAIRY — AMUSEMENTS FOR CHILDREN— THE GREEN — THE SHEEPFOLD — THE SEVENTH 
 REGIMENT STATUE — STATUE OF WEBSTER — THE MARBLE ARCH — THE MALL — STATUES ON THB 
 MALL — THE PLAZA — THE VINE-COVERED WALK — THE ARCADE — THE TERRACE — THE ESPLAN- 
 ADE THE BETHESDA FOUNTAIN THE LAKE — BOATING SKATING SCENES THE CONSERVA- 
 TORY WATER — THE RAMBLE — THE CAVE — THE BELVIDERE — THE CROTON RESERVOIRS — THE 
 
 UPPER PAP.K HARLEM BEER — THE OLD POWDER HOUSE THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF 
 
 ART — THE DI CESNOLA COLLECTION — THE OBELISK — A VENERABLE RELIC OF THE ANCIENT 
 WORLD THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY — THE TRANSVERSE ROADS — A TRI- 
 UMPH OF ENGINEERING— THE PARK COMMISSION — THE POLICE REGULATIONS — PARK TRAFFIC. 
 
 Thirty years ago the portion of Manhattan Island 
 now occupied by the Central Park was a barren, 
 rocky waste, broken by swamps, and as uninviting to 
 the eye and dangerous to health as the most vivid 
 imagination could fancy. It was an eyesore to the 
 island, and the most enthusiastic speculator in real 
 estate despaired of its ever being put to any useful or 
 beneficial purpose. Great was the surprise of the whole 
 city, therefore, when it was seriously proposed to con- 
 vert this wretched looking tract into a grand park, which 
 should be a lasting ornament to the Metropolis. , 
 
 For some years the want of a place of public recrea- 
 tion larger than any of the existing squares or parks 
 of the city, had been seriously felt. There was liter- 
 ally no place in which a large number of persons could 
 assemble for pleasure, or to which they could resort on 
 Sunday or holidays for a quiet day away from the cares 
 of their homes and their work. All the pleasure grounds 
 
DEMAND FOR A PUBLIC PARK. 
 
 441 
 
 fey beyond the limits of the city. For owners* of fine 
 horses, or equipages of any kind, there was no driving 
 place save the dusty Harlem Lane or Bloomingdale 
 Road. It was universally admitted that *a park must 
 be provided within the city limits, at some point easy of 
 access, and that such a pleasure ground must be in 
 keeping with the splendor of the city, of which it must 
 form for ages a principal ornament. The advocates of 
 the scheme were perplexed, however, by the difficulty 
 of finding a suitable site on Manhattan Island. 
 
 In April, 1851, Mayor Kingsland brought the subject 
 before the Common Council, in a message in which h(* 
 urged that a suitable site for a park should be chosen 
 at once, before the upper part of the island should be 
 covered with streets and buildings. The Council 
 promptly considered the matter, and the Committee to 
 which it was referred reported in favor of purchasing 
 ''Jones' Woods," a tract of about 60 acres lying 
 between Third avenue and East River and above 66t]i 
 street It was well wooded, had a fine frontage on th« 
 East River, and in the opinion of the Committee was* 
 the most desirable site in the cit}^ for the location of ^ 
 park. The scheme was warmly supported by numberv 
 of leading citizens, and came near being successful. A 
 bill for the purchase of "Jones' Woods" was introduced 
 into the State Legislature, and was only defeated by a 
 quarrel between two of the city members of that body. 
 The Legislature then appointed a select Committee to 
 ascertain whether a more suitable site could not be 
 found. The attention of the Committee was directed 
 to the rocky and swampy region between Fifth and 
 Eighth avenues and 59th and iioth streets. It was 
 
442 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 admitted that the location was the most central and 
 convenient of any on the island, but the enemies of 
 the scheme declared that it could never be converted 
 into an ornamental park, as the natural difficulties were 
 so great that it would require a fabulous sum to over- 
 come them, and that trees and shrubbery could never 
 be made to grow there. Nevertheless the Committee 
 were so much impressed with the location that they 
 reported a bill, which became a law on the 23d of July^ 
 1853, authorizing the purchase of the land and its con- 
 version into a Park. The land was purchased between 
 1853 and 1856, and in May of the latter year the 
 Common Council appointed a Board of Commissioners^ 
 to prepare and carry out a plan for the establishment 
 of the Park, satisfactory surveys of the land having 
 been previously made by Mr. Egbert L. Viele and a 
 corps of assistants. The first Board was composed of 
 the Mayor and Street Commissioners, as ex-officio 
 members, Washington Irving, George Bancroft, James 
 E. Cooley, Charles F. Briggs, James Phalen, Charles 
 A. Dana, Stewart Brown, and several other leading 
 citizens. Designs were presented by Frederick 
 Olmstead and Calvert Vaux, and being accepted, those 
 gentlemen were entrusted with the work of laying out 
 the Park. 
 
 To the majority of the citizens of New York, the task 
 assumed by Messrs. Olmstead and Vaux seemed a 
 hopeless one. The region selected for the Park was 
 wretched, barren and sickly. Nature had done noth- 
 ing more for it than to render it rugged and uneven.. 
 It was covered for a considerable extent with wretched 
 chanties containing a squalid and filthy population, many 
 
MAKING THE PARK. 
 
 44S 
 
 of whom pursued disgusting occupations, which being- 
 contrary to law, were engaged in only at night. The 
 place had long been a dumping ground for rubbish of 
 all descriptions, a low scrub underbrush grew rankly 
 over it, and pools of stagnant water filled the hollows 
 between the rocky bluffs. Scarcely a tree grew along 
 the whole space, and the grass to be found there was 
 of the poorest quality. The work of grading streets 
 through the region had been begun, and the rude 
 embankments and ragged rock excavations thus cre- 
 ated added much to the natural irregularities of the sur- 
 face. Nevertheless, Messrs. Olmstead and Vaux were 
 confident of success. They went to work promptly, 
 were liberally sustained by the Park Commission and 
 the City Government, and the result of their labors is 
 now seen in the magnificent Central Park, which occu- 
 pies this once wretched site, and which is the admira- 
 tion of ths whole country and the especial pride of New 
 York. 
 
 The Central Park derives its name from its situation 
 in the centre of Manhattan Island. It is a parallelo 
 gram in shape, and is bounded on the south by 59th 
 street, on the east by Fifth avenue, on the north by 
 I loth street, and on the west by Eighth avenue. It is 
 about two miles and a half long, half a mile wide, and 
 comprises an area of eight hundred and forty-three 
 acres. It ranks next to Fairmount Park, at Philadel- 
 phia, as the largest in the Union, and is surpassed in 
 extent by only three of the great parks oi" Europe — 
 the Bois de Bologne, at Paris, the Prater, at Vienna, 
 and the Phoenix, at Dublin. Nine miles of carriage 
 drives, five miles of bridle-paths, and twenty-five miles 
 
444 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 of walks, are laid off within its limits. More than five 
 hundred thousand trees and shrubs have been planted 
 in the grounds with success, the soil being adapted to 
 the growth of almost any kind of vegetation. The 
 •rocky ridge which forms the backbone of the island 
 passes through the centre of the Park, and has been 
 made the means of rendering the scenery very beauti- 
 ful and diversified. The stagnant pools have been 
 converted into charming lakes, the ragged rocks have 
 been crowned with shrubbery and converted into pic- 
 turesque adornments. Every defect has been changed 
 into a beauty, and the admiration of the visitor is di- 
 vided between the loveliness around him and the skill 
 which could convert such a waste into a fairy land. 
 
 The wooded portion of the Park covers about fouf 
 hundred acres, and is intersected in all directions with 
 walks, drives, and bridle paths. Charming views greet 
 the visitor at every step, and lovely lawns stretch away 
 on isvery hand. 
 
 The total cost of the Central Park has been about 
 
 5,ooo,0(DO, including ^5,028,884, expended in pur- 
 <:hasing the land. Large sums are spent annually in 
 improvements. 
 
 In the centre of the grounds, and upon the highest 
 point within the enclosure, stands the Croton Reser- 
 voir, which divides the Park into two sections, known 
 as the Upper and Lower Parks. Up to the present 
 time the greatest number of improvements have been 
 bestowed upon the Lower Park, which contains the 
 Pond, the Mall, the Terrace, the Lake, the Ramble, the 
 Dairy, and a number of buildings- used for Park pur- 
 poses. This portion of the grounds comprises one of 
 the most beautiful specimens of landscape gardening 
 
ENTRANCES TO THE PARK. 
 
 445 
 
 in the world, and abounds in groves of noble trees, 
 lovely lawns, walks and drives, and is ornamented with 
 statuary, a lovely lake, beautiful fountains, and hand- 
 some buildings. The Upper Park is more rugged, and 
 constitutes a sort of miniature mountainous region, 
 ^hich is being improved and beautified with each suc- 
 ceeding year. 
 
 ■ The principal entrances to the Pai-k are on 59th 
 street. The Fifth and Eighth avenue entrances are 
 for vehicles as well as pedestrians, while the Sixth and 
 Seventh avenue entrances are for pedestrians only. 
 Other entrances are on Fifth and Eighth avenues and 
 1 1 oth street. All these will eventually be ornamented 
 with noble gateways and arches. The names of the 
 various entrances are as follows, and convey some 
 idea of the emblematical designs to be followed in the 
 erection of the gateways: — 
 
 Fifth avenue 
 
 and SQth street, The Scholars' Gate. 
 
 Sixth 
 
 ti 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 (( 
 
 it 
 
 Artists' Gate. 
 
 Seventh 
 
 u 
 
 it 
 
 it 
 
 (« 
 
 it 
 
 Artisans' Gate. 
 
 Eighth 
 
 << 
 
 « 
 
 it 
 
 ii 
 
 it 
 
 Merchants' Gate. 
 
 Eighth 
 
 (( 
 
 it 
 
 72d 
 
 it 
 
 it 
 
 Women's Gate. 
 
 Eighth 
 
 <i 
 
 ii 
 
 79th 
 
 it 
 
 it 
 
 Hunters' Gate. 
 
 Eighth 
 
 (< 
 
 it 
 
 85 th 
 
 ii 
 
 a 
 
 Mariners' Gate. 
 
 Eighth . 
 
 <( 
 
 It 
 
 96th 
 
 it 
 
 it 
 
 Gate of All Saints. 
 
 Eighth 
 
 (t 
 
 * it 
 
 1 00th 
 
 it 
 
 ti 
 
 Boys' Gate. 
 
 Eighth 
 
 u 
 
 << 
 
 1 1 oth 
 
 a 
 
 ti 
 
 Strangers' Gate. 
 
 Fifth 
 
 
 ii 
 
 72d 
 
 it 
 
 it 
 
 Children's Gate. 
 
 Fifth 
 
 (< 
 
 ti 
 
 79th 
 
 ii 
 
 it 
 
 Miners' Gate. 
 
 Fifth 
 
 (( 
 
 it 
 
 90th 
 
 it 
 
 it 
 
 Engineers' Gate. 
 
 Fifth 
 
 ii 
 
 a 
 
 96th 
 
 it 
 
 a 
 
 Woodman's Gate. 
 
 Fifth 
 
 H 
 
 ti 
 
 I02d 
 
 it 
 
 ti 
 
 Girls' Gate. 
 
 Fifth 
 
 (( 
 
 it 
 
 1 1 oth 
 
 ti 
 
 ti 
 
 Pioneers' Gate. 
 
 Sixth 
 
 ii 
 
 a 
 
 1 1 oth 
 
 ti 
 
 n 
 
 Farmers' Gate. 
 
 Seventh 
 
 ii 
 
 it 
 
 I loth 
 
 n 
 
 ti 
 
 Warriors' Gate. 
 
446 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The Park is easily reached by the Eighth avenut^ 
 Broadway, Sixth avenue, Madison avenue, and 59tl^ 
 street (Belt Road) Horse Cars, and by all the lines of 
 the Elevated Railroads. From the entrances on 59th 
 street charming pathways lead directly to the Marble 
 Arch and the Mall. 
 
 A few yards from the Fifth avenue gate is a fine 
 bronze bust of Alexander Von Humboldt, by Professor 
 Blaiser, of Berlin. It was presented to the Park by 
 the German citizens of New York, on the 14th of 
 September, 1869, the one hundredth anniversary of 
 the birth of the great scientist. Immediately back of 
 this bust is The Pond, a small sheet of water, irregular 
 in shape, and lying along the lower end of the Park 
 from Fifth to Sixth avenue. It covers about five acres» 
 and lies in a deep hollow, surrounded by steep and 
 picturesque banks. The water consists of the natural 
 drainage of the Park, and artificial means are provided 
 for running it off into the city sewers should it rise too 
 high. A beautifully shaded walk extends around the 
 eastern and southern shores. 
 
 Just within the Eighth avenue entrance stands a fine 
 statue of Commerce, in bronze, presented by Mr. 
 Stephen B. Guion. 
 
 On the east side of the Park, opposite the Fifth 
 avenue and 64th street entrance, is an old building 
 which somewhat resembles the Cadet barracks at West 
 Point. It was erected and used by the State of New 
 York as an arsenal, but was purchased by the city in 
 1856, for the uses of the Park. In the lower stones 
 and in several buildings around it is a fine collection of 
 animals, birds, and reptiles, constituting the Menagerie 
 
THE MENAGERIE. 
 
 447 
 
 of the Park. In the winter the collection is greatly en- 
 larged by numerous animals and birds which are sent 
 here for safe keeping by traveling shows which go into 
 quarters in New York during the cold season. This 
 is a favorite resort with visitors, especially with children, 
 and is always crowded. The top floor of the Arsenal 
 building contains the Meteorological Observatory, 
 which is under the charge of Professor Daniel Draper. 
 Some of the rooms are open to the public, and a num- 
 ber of self-recording instruments for measuring the 
 velocity and direction of the wind, the fall of rain and 
 snow, the variations of temperature, etc., may be ex- 
 amined. The remainder of the building is taken up 
 with the offices of the Park Commission and officials, 
 and a police station. 
 
 The southwest corner of the Park is occupied by the 
 ball ground, a fine stretch of lawn, about ten acres in 
 extent. It is set apart for the use of persons wishing 
 to play base ball, cricket, croquet, or lawn tennis, and 
 is provided with a comfortable brick cottage for the use 
 of the players. 
 
 Immediately north of the Pond is the South Trans- 
 verse Road, and on the high ground above it is the 
 Dairy, a tasteful gothic structure of brick and stone. 
 Here pure milk and refreshments may be had at mod- 
 erate prices. Residents of the city can always pur- 
 chase fresh milk or cream here, for sick children, and a 
 great quantity is sold daily for this purpose. The 
 proximity of the Dairy to the Transverse Road, on 
 which a portion of it opens, enables that establishment 
 to receive its supplies from vehicles in that road, and 
 averts the necessity of bringing wagons and carts into 
 the Park drives. 
 
448 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 A few yards from the Dairy is the Children's Sunt- 
 mer House, a large rustic pavilion for the special 
 accommodation of children and their nurses, and close 
 by is a cottage for the use of ladies and children. A 
 number of patent swings stand near the Summer 
 House, and are always filled with merry little folks. 
 A few steps north of the swings is "The Carrousel," a 
 circular building, fitted up with hobby horses and 
 merry go rounds, for the amusement of younger 
 children. 
 
 Immediately north of the Ball Ground is The Green^ 
 or, as it is usually called by visitors, the Common. It 
 is a fine meadow of sixteen acres, and is occupied by 
 a flock of imported sheep, in charge of a shepherd and 
 his dog. Visitors are rigidly excluded from the Green, 
 save on Saturday, and sometimes on Sunday, when 
 they are permitted to roam over it at pleasure. The 
 northwest portion of the Green terminates in a hill, on 
 the highest part of which is a flashy looking building, 
 in which mineral waters are sold. 
 
 Opposite The Green, and running along the Eighth 
 avenue wall, is The Sheepfold, a range of picturesque 
 buildings of red brick, in which the sheep are sheltered 
 at night and during the bleak days of winter. 
 
 On the west side of the Park, a little way above the 
 Sheepfold, is a bronze bust of the great Italian patriot 
 and agitator, Joseph Mazzini. It is of heroic size, and 
 stands on a pedestal of granite, ten feet in height. It 
 was presented to the Park by the Italian residents of 
 New York, in 1878. 
 
 A short distance above this bust, and also on the 
 west drive, near 7 2d street, is J. Q. A. Ward's noble 
 
STATUES IN THE PARK. 
 
 44^ 
 
 statue of "A Private Soldier of the Seventh Regiment."' 
 It is of bronze, of heroic size, and represents a soldier 
 in the uniform of the regiment, standing at rest, and 
 looking off into the distance. The statue rests upon a 
 handsome pedestal of granite, and was erected by the 
 regiment to the memory of its members who fell 
 during the civil war. The pedestal is ornamented with 
 trophies in bronze, near the base, and with bronze 
 shields on each side, emblazoned with the Stars and 
 Stripes of the National flag. On the principal or east 
 front of the pedestal is the inscription, in bronze letters. 
 Pro Patria et Gloria. Each face of the pedestal con- 
 tains ah inscription cut in the granite. These are as 
 follows: On the east face, "The Seventh Regiment 
 Memorial of 1861-1865." On the north face, "In 
 Honor of the Members of the Seventh Regiment, N. G., 
 S. N. Y., fifty^-eight in number, who gave their lives in 
 defence of the Union — 1 861 -1865." On the west face, 
 "Erected by the Seventh Regiment National Guard, 
 S. N. Y., MDCCCLXiii." On the south face, the inscrip- 
 tion is similar to that on the north face. 
 
 At the intersection of the West Drive and the drive 
 from 7 2d street is a bronze statue, of heroic size, of 
 Daniel Webster, modeled by Ball, of Boston, and pre- 
 sented to the Park in 1876, by Gordon W. Burnham, 
 Esq. 
 
 A little to the northeast of the Dairy, and almost m 
 the centre of the grounds, from east to west, is the 
 Marble Arch, one of the most costly and beaiitiful 
 structures in the Park. * It is constructed of pure white 
 marble, and its office is to carry the carriage-drive, 
 in an unbroken line, to the Lake, and at the same time 
 
 29 
 
450 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 to furnish easy access from the lower level of the south- 
 western part of the Park to the Mall. All the paths 
 from the Sixth, Seventh and Eighth avenue entrances 
 on 59th street, converge here, and lead to a handsome 
 and wide arch of marble, entering it at its western end. 
 On each side of the arch is placed a marble bench, 
 which furnishes a delightful and cool resting-place for 
 visitors in the hot days of summer. At the eastern 
 end of the arch is an open area, walled and paved with 
 marble, and provided with a drinking fountain. Broad 
 stairways of marble, at the northern and southern ends 
 of the area, lead from the archway to the Mall above. 
 
 The Mall is the name given to the broad avenue, 
 lined with four rows of American elms, and ornamented 
 with statuary, extending from the Marble Arch to the 
 Terrace. It is about one-third of a mile in length, 
 about two hundred feet in width, is bordered on each 
 side by lovely lawns, and constitutes the grand prome- 
 nade of the Park. Along the southern end of the ave- 
 nue are bronze statues of Fitz-Greene Halleck (by H. 
 K. Browne), Sir Walter Scott (a copy of the statue in 
 the Scott Memorial at Edinburgh), Shakspeare (by 
 J. Q. A. Ward, the finest work of art in the Park), 
 Robert Burns, and Alexander Hamilton. These give 
 an air of dignity and beauty to this portion of the Park. 
 A little to the west of the Mall is an ideal life-size fig- 
 ure in bronze, representing an Indian hunter — the work 
 of J. Q. A. Ward, the designer of the Shakspeare 
 statue. Near the northern end of the Mall is the 
 Music Pavilion, a handsome and gayly ornamented 
 structure, from which concerts are given by a fine band 
 on certain days of the week during the warm season. 
 
THE MALL. 
 
 451 
 
 These concerts are excellent, and draw large audiences, 
 which are accommodated with seats placed near the 
 music stand. 
 
 The Mall terminates at its northern end in a spa- 
 cious and handsome Plaza, adorned with a couple of 
 revolving fountains and a number of ornamental bird 
 
 cages placed on iron posts. Flowers and plants abound 
 here in the season. 
 
 The northeastern side of the Mall is bordered by a 
 pretty trelliswork of iron, forming an arbor, and raised 
 about twenty feet above the promenade. This is called 
 the Vine Covered Walk, and over it are trained roses, 
 honeysuckles, and wisterias. It is a delightful resting 
 
452 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 place, from which one can listen to the music of the 
 concerts or watch the crowds on the Mall and the Ter- 
 race. Both the Mall and this arbor command fine 
 views of a large portion of the Park. The eastern 
 side of the Vine-Covered Walk opens upon a circular 
 space to which carriages are admitted. Across this 
 circle is the Casino, a pretty cottage of stone, contain- 
 ing an excellent restaurant. Good meals are served 
 here, but the charges are somewhat high. The grounds 
 to the east of the Casino contain the famous group in 
 brownstone, known as "Auld Lang Syne," the work 
 of Robert Thompson, a self-taught sculptor, and for- 
 merly a stone mason. 
 
 At the northern end of the Mall a broad stairway 
 leads down to the Arcade, or the hall beneath the Ter- 
 race. This hall is paved with handsome encaustic tiles, 
 and the walls and ceilings are inlaid with encaustic 
 tiles of a finer quality, ornamented with the most sump- 
 tuous designs. This magnificent apartment is used a'^ 
 an ice cream saloon. 
 
 The northern end of the Mall is separated from the 
 Terrace by a massive and highly decorated screen of 
 Albert stone, pierced with two large openings whicli 
 give access from the Mall to the Terrace. 
 
 The Terrace is constructed of Albert freestone, of a 
 soft yellowish brown color, and is one of the most im- 
 posing structures in the grounds. It is provided with 
 a footway on each side and a carriage drive in the cen- 
 tre, and overlooks the Lower Terrace or Esplanade, 
 and the Lake. At th^ northern end two grand flights 
 of stone stairs lead to the Lower Terrace, and are 
 ornamented with exquisite carvings of birds, animals, 
 
THE lowp:r terrace. 
 
 fruits, etc., and beautiful tracery, cut in the soft stone 
 work. On the east and west sides of the stairways, 
 the adjoining grounds are lavishly ornamented with 
 flowers, and slope gracefully from the Terrace to the 
 Lake. 
 
 The Lower Terrace or Esplanade, is a large open 
 space extending from the stairways to the Lake. It is 
 paved with stone blocks, and at the water s edge is a 
 low stone wall with a seat running around the inner 
 side. Tall flag staffs rise along the water front, and 
 sustain handsome banners, which give to the place a 
 gay appearance. 
 
 In the centre of the Lower Terrace is a large stone 
 basin, in the middle of which stands the Bethesda 
 Fountain, the most beautiful ornament of the Park. 
 
 THE LOWER TERRACE IN CENTRAL PARK. 
 
 The figure and the pedestal on which it stands are of 
 bronze, as are also the four smaller figures beneath 
 the upper basin. The fountain is the work of Miss 
 Emma Stebbins, of New York; the design was exe- 
 cuted in Rome, during the winters of 1864-67, and the 
 models were sent to Munich and cast in bronze. The 
 
454 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 idea of the work was suggested by the account of the 
 Pool of Bethesda, given in the 2d, 3d and 4th verses of 
 the fifth chapter of St. John's Gospel, especially the 4th 
 verse, which relates that ''An angel went down at a 
 certain season into the pool and troubled the water." 
 The principal and uppermost figure of the group rep- 
 resents an angel with outspread wings, in the act of 
 alighting on a mass of rock. The arms are extended 
 in blessing, and the angel bears in her left hand a 
 bunch of lilies, emblems of purity, and wears across 
 her breast the cross bands of the messenger angel. 
 From the left hand trickles a stream of water, and from 
 the mass of rock over which she seems to hover the 
 water gushes out into the upper basin, emblematic of 
 Temperance, Purity, Health and Peace. At the feet 
 of these figures is a second and larger basin, from 
 which the water falls into the circular pool below. The 
 fountain plays constantly during the mild weather, but 
 in winter is covered over, to protect it from the severe 
 frosts. It is exceedingly delicate and beautiful in con- 
 ception and execution, and is deservedly admired by 
 all who visit it. 
 
 The Lake is a lovely sheet of water bordering the 
 Terrace, from which it stretches away to the east and 
 west. It is irregular in shape, and is divided into two 
 nearly distinct and unequal parts by a narrow strait, 
 crossed by a graceful iron bridge. The larger and 
 handsomer part sweeps away from the bridge to the 
 west and north, with several arms. This lovely sheet 
 of water covers an area of about twenty acres. The 
 northern shore is high and rocky, terminating at several 
 points in bold headlands, and is occupied by the Ram- 
 
456 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 ble. To the east of the Terrace is a handsome boat 
 house, where rowboats may be hired for a ride around 
 the Lake for a small sum. In the winter this building 
 is used for the accommodation of skaters. On fair 
 days the Lake is covered with fleets of boats manned 
 by expert rowers in sailor costume, and filled with gay 
 parties of pleasure seekers. Landing places are 
 located at various points on the shore, and are orna- 
 mented with rustic structures which command fine 
 views of the water and surrounding grounds. Num- 
 bers of snow-white swans float dreamily over the 
 edge of the Lake, waiting for food thrown to them by 
 visitors. 
 
 No lovelier sheet of water is to be found on the 
 globe than this beautiful lake, the larger portion of 
 which lies west of the strait and the Bow Bridge. On 
 the north side the shore rises up in steep bluffs ; on the 
 south is the magnificent Terrace, and the eastern and 
 western shores slope gracefully in verdant lawns from 
 the main carriage drives to the water. From whatever 
 point on the shore you view it, the quiet lake stretches 
 away, the very embodiment of peace and repose, its 
 clear bosom gleaming in the bright rays of the sun, 
 and reflecting the various objects which surround it. 
 On a bright moonlight night in the summer the scene 
 is indescribably beautiful. The waters lie gleaming in 
 the golden light, breaking into myriads of flashing rip- 
 ples as a ghost-like swan glides majestically by, or as 
 they are broken by the dip of oars. Scores of plea- 
 sure boats, well filled, and each bearing a red or blue 
 light, skim over the surface like so man)' fire-flies ; the 
 air is musical with the dash of oars and the sound of 
 
SCENES ON THE LAKE. 
 
 457 
 
 merry voices ; and the breeze comes off the shore 
 laden with the rich perfume of flowers. Above and 
 below this magic realm the great city toils on, sending 
 up its ceaseless roar heavenward ; sorrow and care, 
 mirth and recklessness, vice and crime, hold the dwell- 
 ers in their resistless grasp; but here all is peace and 
 beauty. This is a charmed world, and you can enjoy 
 it regardless of the busy Babel by which it is sur- 
 rounded. The sound of a distant bell tolling the 
 hours, the scream of a locomotive, or the hoarse 
 whistle of a steamer in the river, are the only sounds 
 of the outer world heard here, and you scarcely heed 
 them as you surrender yourself to the witchery of the 
 scene around you. 
 
 During the winter the Lake presents a gay and bril- 
 liant sight. The large boat house near the Terrace is 
 thronged with visitors, some of whom come to enjoy 
 the skating and others to watch the sport. The water 
 of the lake is covered to a depth sufficient to prevent 
 serious accidents in case the ice should break, and 
 every precaution is taken to ensure the safety of the 
 skaters. The ice is carefully examined every day, 
 weak spots are marked with danger signs, and every 
 night the surface of the ice is scraped smooth, to ren- 
 der it fit for the next day's sport. Huge reflectors are 
 placed behind the gas-lamps on the shore, and at night 
 these shed a flood of light over the frozen surface, ren- 
 dering it as bright as day, and enabling the skaters to 
 enjoy their pleasure until midnight. Printed rules for 
 the government of skaters are posted at conspicuous 
 points, and all persons are required to conform to them 
 on pain of being compelled to leave the ice. A large 
 
458 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 red ball is hoisted on the Arsenal building when the ice 
 is in good condition, and the cars of the railway lines 
 running to the Park are provided with small white 
 flags, on each of which is printed a red ball, thus in- 
 forming the public that their favorite winter pastime is. 
 the order of the day. Buildings for the accommoda- 
 tion of skaters are erected on the shore of the Pond 
 and the Upper Lake, which also furnish their share of 
 amusement. Thousands of skaters are on the ice 
 daily, and the scene at such times is well worth wit- 
 nessing. 
 
 To the east of the Terrace, along the Fifth avenue 
 side of the Park, is a small, oval lake, covering about 
 two acres and a half of space. This is the Conserva- 
 tory Water, and is used principally by the young folks 
 for miniature yacht races. At some future, and it is 
 hoped not distant day, the grand Conservatory of the 
 Park will be erected on the eastern shore of the water, 
 and will front on Fifth avenue. 
 
 ,The high ground north of the Lake is known as the 
 llamble. This is one of the most charming portions of 
 rhe Park, extends as far northward as the old Reser- 
 voir, lies between the East and West Drives, and covers 
 an area of about thirty-six acres. It is a labyrinth of 
 winding foot-paths, well shaded, and abounding in ex- 
 quisite scenery, deep thickets, little brooks and pictur- 
 esque waterfalls crossed by miniature bridges, small 
 stretches of lawn, bits of rock work, and delightful 
 views of the Lake. The grounds are well supplied 
 with benches and rustic seats, on which the visitor may 
 rest and enjoy the beauties of the scene at his ease. 
 At several points winding paths lead down to rustic 
 
THE UPPER PARK. 
 
 459' 
 
 arbors on the Lake shore. At the upper end of the 
 Ramble a path leads into a rocky glen, at the end of 
 which is situated the Cave, a natural opening in the 
 rocks, of considerable size. Here are kept a number 
 of owls, whose solemn air of wisdom is heightened by 
 the constant gloom in which they dwell. 
 
 The Ramble terminates on the north, in the highest 
 point in the Park. Here is located the Belvedere, an 
 open space walled and paved with stone, from which 
 rises an ornamental tower of granite, fifty feet high. 
 Visitors are admitted to this tower, and from it can 
 command a view of the entire Park, the Reservoirs, the- 
 city and country to the northward as far as Harlem and 
 the High Bridge, the entrance to^ Long Island Sound, 
 and the portion of the city lying immediately below the 
 Park. The Belvedere stands at the southwest corner 
 of the Old Reservoir, and can be approached only oa 
 foot. 
 
 Immediately north of the Belvedere are the Crotorv 
 Reservoirs, two in number, known as the Old and New 
 Reservoirs. The former lies in the centre of the 
 grounds, and extends from 79th street to 86th street, 
 and the latter occupies almost the entire width of the 
 Park, from 86th to 96th street. Together they cover 
 an area of one hundred and forty-three acres. A 
 bridle path and a walk encircle the New Reservoir and 
 are much resorted to on account of the coolness of the 
 location and the fine view. 
 
 Beyond the Reservoirs is the Upper Park, naturally 
 the most beautiful portion of the grounds. But little 
 has been done up to the present time in the way of 
 improvement. Its principal attractions are Mount St 
 
460 NEW YORK. 
 
 Vincent, on the east side, above which is a pretty 
 sheet of water, known as Harlem Meer, occupying the 
 northeast corner of the Park, and covering an area of 
 twelve and a half acres ; the Pool, a small lake of two 
 acres on the west side, just above looth street; and 
 the old Powder House at the extreme northern end of 
 the grounds, near Sixth avenue and iioth street. A 
 large part of what was once known as McGowan's 
 Pass lies in the North Park. Through this pass the 
 American army effected its retreat from New York 
 after the disastrous battle of Long Island. Some of 
 the old earthworks thrown up on this occasion are still 
 to be seen here. 
 
 On the Fifth avenue, or east side of the Park, oppo- 
 site 83d street, stands the Metropolitan Museum of 
 Art, one of the greatest attractions of the city. The 
 ■edifice, now completed, which is only one of a projected 
 series of buildings, is constructed of red brick with 
 sandstone trimmings, in the Gothic style, and is 218 
 feet long and 95 feet broad. The basement story 
 contains the offices of the Museum and a hall devoted 
 to the exhibition of works of industrial art. The next 
 floor contains the main hall, a noble apartment, the 
 roof of which rises in a graceful curve, held up by 
 sweeping girders, the iron work being painted of an 
 approved color. All the decorations of the building 
 are handsome, but are subdued in tone, in order to 
 render the collections more attractive than the rooms 
 in which they are contained. "In the west entrance 
 hall on this floor, which fronts the Park, are the modern . 
 statues. In the central hall are the loan collections, 
 in numerous cases. Here are laces and embroideries. 
 
THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART. 461 
 
 At the east end are the Greek and Etruscan vases, 
 ivith Kensington Museum reproductions at the west 
 €nd. Right and left are numerous show cases con- 
 taining the innumerable loans made to the Museum, 
 such as Japanese and Chinese ivories, Egyptian an- 
 tiquities, rare tomes, old books in their superb bindings, 
 Limoges enamels, antique arms, with Dresden, Sevres, 
 and Majolica; Oriental and Japanese stuffs, silver 
 repoussee, Venetian glass, miniatures, and an endless 
 variety of artistic objects. In the north and south 
 aisles of the east hall are the Cyprian antiquities, the 
 vases, terra-cottas, bronzes, busts, and statues of the 
 Cesnola collection. In this hall these Cypriote objects 
 occupy quite three sides of the room, besides being 
 placed in many additional cases. The most careful 
 attention has been paid to their classification, which 
 must be of the greatest advantage to those desiring to 
 study them. The two sarcophagi, which are the 
 capital pieces of the Cesnola collection, are at the back 
 of the hall. On the left-hand side, facing the entrance, 
 "has been carefully placed the immense Cesnola collec- 
 tion of pottery. Mounting to the next floor is easy, as 
 the steps have a comfortable rise. The visitor then 
 arrives at the upper halls. Here are the pictures, in 
 two halls, the east and west ones. Proceeding along 
 the gallery taken up by the Avery collection of porce- 
 lain, the east picture gallery is reached. Continuing 
 the circuit, the south gallery may now be traversed, 
 which leads to the west hall. This south gallery 
 contains the most precious of General Di Cesnola's 
 discoveries, the Curium treasures, with the iridescent 
 l^lass. Here, too, are all the bronzes, Venetian glass, a m 
 
462 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 collection of watches, and bibelots innumerable. The 
 Di Cesnola collection consists of a large number of 
 ancient art objects exhumed at Cyprus by General Di 
 Cesnola, United States Consul at that island, and is 
 regarded by archaeologists as the most remarkable and 
 valuable in the world. The eastern picture gallery 
 contains a number of the best paintings by the old 
 Dutch, Flemish and Spanish masters; the western 
 gallery is devoted to pictures loaned to the Museum. 
 The public is admitted to the Museum, free of charge^ 
 on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. 
 
 A short distance west of the Museum is the Obelisk^ 
 or, as it is popularly, but erroneously termed, "Cleo- 
 patra's Needle." It stands on a slight knoll in one of the 
 most commanding situations in the Park, and consti- 
 tutes one of the chief attractions of the grounds. It 
 was presented to the city of New York in 1877, by 
 Ismail Pasha, then the reigning Khedive of Egypt, and 
 was brought across the Atlantic in 1880, through the 
 remarkable engineering skill of Lieutenant-Comman- 
 der Gorringe, of the United States Navy. It was sucr 
 cessfully removed from the vessel in which it made the 
 voyage, conveyed from the river, and set up on its presi- 
 ent site in the autumn of 1880. The cost of the entire 
 undertaking was paid by William H. Vanderbilt, Esq: 
 
 The Obelisk stands upon a pedestal of massive 
 granite, built upon solid rock. It is a monolith, four 
 sided in shape, tapering to a point at the top, is sixty* 
 seven feet two inches in height, five and a half feet 
 square at the apex, and weighs about two hundred 
 tons. It is cut from a single block of granite hewn oiiX 
 of the quarries at Syene, in Upper Egypt, and its four 
 
I HF, OHFLTSK. 
 
464 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 sides are all covered with inscriptions in hieroglyphics- 
 cut into the stone. It was one of two obelisks erected 
 in front of the Temple of the Sun, at Heliopolis (or 
 On, as it is termed in the Bible), a city of Lower 
 Egypt, which stood not far from the present city of 
 Cairo. These obelisks were erected by Thothmes III, 
 to commemorate his victories. This king was one of 
 the greatest conquerors in Egyptian history, and his 
 dominions extended from India on the east to the isles 
 of the Mediterranean on the north and west, and to 
 the southern confines of Equatorial Africa. Three 
 centuries after his death, another great king, Rameses 
 II (believed to be the Greek Sesostris), caused these 
 obelisks to be set up a second time at Heliopolis, and 
 a new line of inscriptions full of his own more pompous 
 titles and names was added, on the right and left sides 
 of the central line, all along the four sides of die stone. 
 Centuries afterwards, when Rome had brought Egypt 
 to her feet, these obelisks were removed from Heliopo- 
 lis to Alexandria. It is not certain by whom they were 
 removed ; some authors attribute the work to Julius 
 Caesar, some to Marc Antony, and others still t® 
 Augustus. The companion to this obelisk was pre- 
 sented to the British government by Ismail Pasha, and 
 was conveyed to London in 1877, and set up on the 
 Thames embankment. 
 
 It is no wonder that the Obelisk is the object of so 
 much interest. It is one of the oldest existing monu- 
 ments of the ancient world, and carries us back fifteen 
 centuries beyond the Christian Era. It was venerable 
 when Moses enjoyed the favor of the Egyptian court, 
 as " the son of Pharaoh's daughter," and he must have 
 
THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. 465 
 
 seen it frequently. It witnessed all the various changes 
 in the destiny of Egypt, under its native rulers and 
 foreign masters, for three thousand years, and was 
 already fifteen hundred years old when it was removed 
 from its original site to Alexandria. What changes it 
 shall behold in its new home in the metropolis of the 
 Western World the future alone can disclose. 
 
 Just without the limits of the Park, and between 
 Eighth and Ninth avenues and 77th and 8ist streets, 
 but under the control of the Park Commission, stands 
 a massive and handsome building of red brick, with 
 yellow sandstone trimmings, erected in the modern 
 Gothic style. This is the American Museum of Natu- 
 ral History, the present edifice being only a single 
 wing of the immense mass of buildings which is to be 
 erected for the uses of the Museum. The building is 
 fireproof; the corner-stone was laid on the 2d of June, 
 1874, by President Grant, and the Museum was form- 
 ally opened by President Hayes, on the 2 2d of Decem- 
 ber, 1877. "The general interior arrangement is 
 probably the best that has been yet devised for the 
 purpose, and, indeed, leaves little to be desired. The 
 collections are arranged in large halls, or in balconies 
 running around them ; and at each end of these halls 
 is a large vestibule, containing stairways and offices 
 for the curator of the department to which the floor is 
 devoted. The entrance is at present at the south end„ 
 Each hall is 1 70 feet long by 60 wide inside the walls. 
 The lowest story is 18 feet high; the second, or prin- 
 cipal story, including the balcony or gallery, 30 feet ; 
 the upper story 22 feet; and the story in the mansard 
 roof 16 feet. On the lower story, the desk cases, ia 
 
 30 
 
466 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 the centre of the hall, are filled with the Jay collection 
 of shells, presented by Miss C. L. Wolfe, as a memo- 
 rial of her father, the first President of the Museum. 
 The remainder of the hall, excepting several cases filled 
 with building stones, marbles, woods, and wax fruits, is 
 devoted to mounted specimens of mammalia. The 
 floor of the second story hall contains specimens of 
 birds exclusively, arranged in geographical order. 
 The gallery is set apart for the archaeological depart- 
 ment, and contains specimens of the implements of the 
 Pacific islanders, spears and lances of various peoples, 
 carved war-clubs, Indian dresses and weapons, stone 
 axes, pottery, skulls, skeletons, etc., all in upright 
 cases ; in the railing case is the De Morgan collection 
 of stone implements, from the valley of the Somme, 
 Northern France ; the Bement specimens of the stone 
 age of Denmark ; specimens from the Swiss lake 
 dwellings ; Squier and Davis's collection, from the 
 Mississippi Valley, and several minor collections. On 
 the upper or third floor is the James Hall collection o.( 
 geologic specimens of New York State, recently pur • 
 chased by the Museum, and a number of other speci^ 
 mens in the same department of science. The attic 
 story is set apart for work and study rooms for those 
 carrying on original researches. The peculiarity of the 
 arrangement for the different wall cases containing the 
 collections is, that they extend out at right angles to 
 the windows, so that the end against the wall is but a 
 small part of the whole, while the light, which, owing 
 to the large window space gained by this arrangement 
 is exceedingly abundant, is permitted to travel to every 
 nook and corner of the hall, so that there is not a spot 
 
THE TRANSVERSE ROADS. 
 
 467 
 
 anywhere in the exhibition rooms where a shadow is 
 cast." The pubHc is admitted to the Museum free of 
 charge on* Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and 
 Saturdays. 
 
 One of the problems presented to the engineers who 
 Jaid out the Park consisted in devising a means of 
 communication between Fifth and Eighth avenues, 
 along its course. As it lay in the centre of the island 
 for two miles and a half from north to south, it would 
 prove a serious obstacle to the transaction of the busi- 
 ness of the city unless some means of communication 
 .should be provided between the above-rnentioned 
 avenues. To carry the city streets through the grounds 
 would be to destroy the Park, and to open the carriage 
 roads to vehicles of trade would sadly mar the pleasure 
 of visitors. The skill of the engineers and the natural 
 formation of the land soon afforded a solution of the 
 problem, difficult as it seemed. A system of transverse 
 roads was devised and successfully carried out. These 
 roads are among the "curiosities" of the Park, and 
 constitute one of the most skillful engineering triumphs 
 of the time. The transverse roads are four in number, 
 and are used to carry 65th, 79th, 85th, and 97th streets 
 across the line of the Park. They follow the natural 
 depressions between the hills and rocks of the Park, 
 are sunken far below the general level of the grounds, 
 and are walled up on each side with massive masonry. 
 The carriage drives and walks of the Park cross them 
 by means of handsome bridges, which are so embowered 
 in vines and shrubbery that the road below is entirely 
 unseen. Visitors pass over them without being con- 
 scious of their existence. These roads are inaccessible 
 
'468 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 from the Park, are paved like the city streets, and are 
 lighted with gas at night. 
 
 The Central Park is under the control of the De- 
 partment of Public Parks, which has its headquarters 
 at 36 Union Square. The board consists of four com- 
 missioners, appointed for five years by the Mayor and 
 Board of Aldermen. The President of the Board 
 receives an annual salary of ^6500, but the other 
 members are not paid for their services. The Com- 
 missioners draw up and enforce the regulations for 
 the government of the Park, and appoint the police 
 force to which the care of the grounds and the property 
 in them is entrusted. The Park police are uniformed, 
 in gray, and have the powers of ordinary policemen. 
 Their headquarters are at the Arsenal building. A 
 policeman is on duty at each entrance, and others of 
 the force patrol the grounds, to prevent violations of 
 the rules, to render assistance to persons in need of it 
 
 The rules for the government of visitors are very 
 simple. They are forbidden to pluck the shrubbery or 
 flowers, to write upon or otherwise deface the seats, 
 bridges, arches, or buildings, to feed the birds, or an- 
 noy the animals, and to walk on the grass except in 
 such places as are marked by signs bearing the word 
 "Common." Every convenience is provided for the 
 comfort of visitors. More than ten thousand seats are 
 scattered through the grounds, six hundred of these 
 being under vine-covered arbors. Water closets for 
 gentlemen, and cottages with toilet conveniences for 
 ladies and children, each of the latter in charge of a 
 female attendant, are placed at convenient points. 
 
"OLD TRINITY." 469 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 TRINITY CHURCH. 
 
 ^"CTLD trinity'' — THE THRBE CHURCHES — DESCRIPTION OF TRINITY CHURCH — THE INTERIOR — 
 THE ALTAR AND REREDOS — THE WINDOWS — THE SERVICES — FINE MUSIC — DAILY SIGHTS IW 
 TRINITY — THE SPIRE — THE CHIMES — VIEW FROM THE SPIRE — THE CHURCHYARD — NOTXO 
 TOMBS — TRINITY PARISH — THE CHAPELS — WEALTH OF THE PARISH — ITS NOBLE WORK. 
 
 The most interesting church edifice in New York is 
 Trinity Church, or, as it is affectionately termed by the 
 citizens, " Old Trinity." It stands on Broadway oppo- 
 site the head of Wall street, and forms one of the most 
 conspicuous objects on the great thoroughfare. The 
 present edifice is the third that has stood on the site. 
 The first church was completed in 1697, and was de- 
 stroyed in the great fire of 1776. A second church 
 was built in 1790, and in 1839 ^^is was demolished, and 
 the present stately edifice begun on its site. It was 
 completed and consecrated in 1846. 
 
 Trinity is one of the few specimens of pure Gothic 
 architecture to be found in the United States, and is 
 stately and beautiful within and without. It is built of 
 brownstone from the base to the summit of the spire, 
 and the interior is finished in the same material. The 
 walls are fifty feet high, and the arch of the ceiling is 
 sixty feet above the floor of the church. The roof is 
 supported by massive brownstone columns. The spire 
 is two hundred and eighty-four feet in height, and is 
 surmounted by a bright gilded cross. The church con- 
 sists of a nave, choir, and aisles. On each side of the 
 choir are the vestry rooms. The south room contains 
 
470 NEW YORK. 
 
 the offices of the clergy, and is also the robing room. 
 The north room contains a fine tomb, with a full length 
 effigy in stone, to the memory of Bishop Onderdonk. 
 The chancel occupies the choir, and is beautifully fitted 
 up. At the sides are stalls for the clergy and choris- 
 ters, with a fine organ on the north side, and at the 
 back are the altar and reredos, which were erected as 
 a memorial to the late William B. Astor, by his sons, 
 both of whom are active members of the church. They 
 . are very beautiful, and are of a soft colored stone, 
 richly ornamented with sculptures. The windows of 
 the church are of stained glass, those at the sides being 
 very simple. The great window back of the altar is a 
 magnificent work. Over the Broadway entrance is a 
 gallery containing the grand organ, one of the most 
 powerful instruments in the city. 
 
 Trinity is noted for its elaborate services. Morning 
 and evening prayer are celebrated in simple style 
 every day, but on Sundays and feast days tlie full 
 choral service is used. The choir consists of men and 
 boys, carefully trained by the Musical Director; they 
 are surpHced, and are famous for their skill. No 
 grander or more impressive service can be heard in 
 the land than in Old Trinity on Sunday mornings. The 
 church is always kept open during the day, and it is no 
 uncommon sight, during business hours, to see numbers 
 of persons kneeling in the pews of the church in silent 
 prayer. A soft, subdued, holy light streams in through 
 the colored windows, giving to the beautiful interior 
 an air of solemnity, in harmony with its sacred char- 
 acter. 
 
 The spire of the church faces Wall street, and is 
 
TRINITY CHURCa 
 
472 NEW YORK. 
 
 built of solid stone. It contains a clock, with three 
 faces, placed just above the roof of the church, and a 
 great bell, which strikes the quarters, half-hours, and 
 • hours. Above these is the finest chime of bells in the 
 city. They are played by machinery, and their music 
 is well worth listening to. All through the day and 
 night the voices of the bells float down into the city, 
 solemn and sweet, reminding the heedless passers-by 
 that time is flying and eternity drawing nigh. The 
 view from the balcony at the base of the spire, two 
 hundred and fifty feet above the street, is sublime. 
 The gazer looks down upon Broadway and Wall 
 street, with their busy crowds, and over the city far 
 away to the northward. From this elevated point you 
 can see almost the entire city, Brooklyn, Jersey City, 
 and the suburban towns on the Jersey shore, back to 
 die Orange Mountains; the harbor, the East river, the 
 Narrows, the Lower Bay, Staten Island, Long Island 
 Sound, and the distant hills of Connecticut. Nearly 
 four millions of people are below you, with a dozen 
 cities and towns. 
 
 The church stands in the midst of a large open • 
 space, filled with crumbling tombstones and monu- 
 ments, shaded with noble trees and ornamented widi 
 flowers. At the northern end, on the Broadway side, 
 facing Pine street, is " The Martyr's Monument," a 
 splendid structure of bronmstone, erected to die 
 memory of the Patriotic Ainericans who died during 
 the Revolution, in British Prisons." 
 
 Trinity Church is the "mother" of a vast corpora- 
 tion, embracing the followln;^ chapels: St. Paul's, St. 
 John's, Trinity Chapel, St. Chrysostom's, St. Augus- 
 
A WEALTHY CHURCH. 
 
 473 
 
 tine's, and St. Cornelius's, the last being on Governor's 
 Island. All these establishments are supported from 
 the funds of the parish, with the exception of Trinity 
 Chapel, which has a wealthy congregation, and is main- 
 tained by its members. These constitute what is known 
 as ''Trinity Parish," at the head of which is the rector 
 of Trinity Church. Each church or chapel has its 
 pastor and vestry, who are subject to the control of thv) 
 rector and vestry of Old Trinity." The salaries ar^ 
 liberal, and are promptly paid. Each clergyman with a 
 family is provided with a furnished house ; should any 
 clergyman die in the service of the parish, a liberal 
 provision is made for his family, and superannuated 
 ministers are supported in comfort during their lives. 
 
 Trinity is the richest church in the United States. 
 Its wealth consists almost entirely of real estate. In 
 1697 the English crown granted to it the land on 
 which it stands, and in 1 705 supplemented this grant 
 with the gift of the immense tract known as "Queen 
 Anne's Farm," embracing the entire district lying 
 along the North River, from Vesey to Christopher 
 street. Much of this was subsequently donated by 
 Trinity to various institutions needing assistance, but 
 the corporation still owns a large part of this valuable 
 district, worth at present many millions of dollars. 
 Much of this property is unproductive, however, so that 
 the actual income of the corporation is only about half 
 a million of dollars. It makes a good use of this, how- 
 ever, and besides paying its own expenses, lends a lib- 
 eral support to many needy churches in the city, and 
 maintains a number of benevolent institutions. 
 
474 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE LOST SISTERHOOD. 
 
 *KKVALBNCB OP PROSTITUTION IN NEW YORK— POLICE STATISTICS— FIRST-CLASS HOOSB9- . 
 
 THE PROPRIETRESS THE INMATES THE ARISTOCRACY OF SHAME — THE VISITORS-. 
 
 VISITS OF MARRIED MEN — AVERAGE LIFE OF A FASHIONABLE PROSTITUTE — THE NEXT 
 STEP — THE SECOND-CLASS HOUSES — TERRORS OF THESE PLACES — THE GREENE STREET 
 
 BAGNIOS GOING DOWN INTO THE DEPTHS — THE NEXT STEP — THE WATER STREET HELLS 
 
 — AVERAGE LIFE OF A PROSTITUTE — " THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH " — HOW YOUNG GIRL3 
 ARE TEMPTED INTO SIN — EFFORTS TO SAVE AN ERRING DAUGHTER — THE STREET WALK- 
 ERS — THE PANEL HOUSES — HOW MEN ARE ROBBED AND MURDERED IN THESE HOUSES— 
 THE CONCERT SALOONS — THE WAITER GIRLS — THE DANCE HALLS — THE " BUCKINGHAM 
 THE "CREMORNE" — BUCKINGHAM BALLS — ASSIGNATION HOUSES — PERSONALS— THE MID- 
 NIGHT MISSION — REFORMATORY ESTABLISHMENTS — ABORTIONISTS — THE WICKEDEST 
 WOMAN IN NEW YORK. 
 
 Prostitution is an appalling evil in New York. One 
 v:an scarcely look in any direction without seeing some 
 evidence of it. Street walkers parade the most prom- 
 inent thoroughfares, dance houses and low concert 
 halls flaunt their gaudy signs in public, and houses 
 of ill-fame are conducted with a boldness unequalled 
 Jiny where in the world. The evil is very great, but it 
 is far from assuming the proportions that some well- 
 meaning, but misinformed, persons have assigned it. 
 Some years ago Bishop Simpson, of the Methodist 
 Church, made the starding assertion, at a public meet- 
 ing, that the prostitutes of New York were as numer- 
 ous as the members of the Methodist Church in that 
 city. This drew from the Superintendent of Police a 
 statement, in which he showed that while the evil was 
 undeniably very great, it was not so bad as the Bishop 
 had reported it. The truth is that there are about 6ck> 
 houses of prostitution and about 90 assignation houses 
 
I 
 
 PROFESSIONAL PROSTITUTES. 475 * 
 
 in New York. The number of women known lo the 
 poHce as professional prostitutes is about 5000, in 
 which estimate are included several hundred waiter 
 girls in the concert saloons. The Census of iSSo 
 returned the female population of New York as 615,- 
 815. This would give one professional prostitute for 
 123 females of all ages in the entire city. These fig- 
 ures are horrible enough to contemplate, but they are 
 not so bad as the statement referred to above. Of 
 the number of women who resort to prostitution as a 
 means of obtaining money, or from other motives, and 
 who yet manage to retain positions of respectability 
 in society, of course no estimate can be made. They 
 are, unfortunately, very numerous, and are said, by per- 
 sons in position to speak with some degree of accu- 
 racy, to equal the professionals in numbers. 
 
 These things are sad to contemplate, and disagree-, 
 able to write about. The whole subject is unsavory i 
 but no picture of New York would be complete did it 
 not include an account of this terrible feature of city 
 life, which meets the visitor at almost every turn ; and 
 it is believed that some good may be accomplished by 
 stripping the subject, of all its romance, and presenting); 
 it to the reader in its true and hideous colors. 
 
 The professional women of New York represent 
 every grade of their wretched life, from the belle ot 
 the fashionable house of ill-fame to the slowly dying 
 inmate of the Water street brothel. They begin their 
 careers with the hope that they will always remain in 
 the class into which they enter, but find, when it is too 
 late, that they must go steadily down into the depths^ 
 
476 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 closing their lives with a horrible death and a pauper'* 
 grave. 
 
 The first-class houses of New York are conducted 
 with more or less secrecy. It is the object of the pro- 
 prietress to remain unknown to the police as long as 
 possible, but she finds at last that this is impracticable. 
 The sharp-eyed patrolmen soon discover suspicious 
 signs about the house, and watch it until their suspicions 
 are verified, when the establishment is recorded at 
 police headquarters as a house of ill-fame, and placed 
 under the surveillance of the police. These houses 
 are few m number, the entire city containing, accord- 
 ing to police reports, not more than fifty. Large rents 
 are paid for them, and they are generally hired fur- 
 nished. They are located in some quiet, respectable 
 portion of the city, and outwardly appear to be simply 
 private dwellings. It often happens that the neighbors 
 are in ignorance of the true character of the house, 
 long after it is well known to the police. It is hinted 
 that even Fifth avenue is not free from the taint The 
 houses are magnificently furnished, and every attrac- 
 tion is held out to lure desirable visitors to them. The 
 proprietress is a woman of respectable appearance, 
 and passes as a married woman, some man generally 
 living with her, and passing as her husband. This 
 -enables her, in case of trouble with the authorities, to 
 show a legal protector and insist upon her claim to be 
 a married woman. 
 
 The inmates are women in the first flush of their 
 charms. They are handsome, well dressed, generally 
 refined in manner, and conduct themselves with out- 
 ward propriety ; rude and boisterous conduct, im- 
 
THE ARISTOCRACY OF SHAME. 477 
 
 proper language, and indecent behavior are forbidden 
 in the parlors of the house, and a casual visitor pass- 
 ing through the public rooms of the place would see 
 nothing out of the usual way. 
 
 It is difficult to learn the causes which induce these 
 women to adopt a life of shame. No reliance what- 
 ever can be placed upon the stories they tell of them- 
 selves. It cannot be doubted, however, that they are 
 generally of respectable origin, and some of them are 
 otherwise fitted to adorn the best circles of society. 
 Some are young women who have been led astray by 
 men who have failed to keep their promises to them, 
 and have drifted into sin to hide their shame ; others 
 are wives who have left, or have been deserted by, 
 their husbands ; others are widows who have been 
 left without any other means of support ; others still 
 have deliberately chosen the life in the hope of escap- 
 ing poverty, or to gratify their love of money and dress ; 
 and others again appear to be influenced by motives 
 of pure licentiousness. Whatever the cause of their 
 iiidoption of such a life, it is evident that they have 
 i^een better days. They are still fresh and attractive, 
 and for a while pursue their gilded career of sin and 
 !ihame, hoping that they may be fortunate enough to 
 retain their places in the aristocracy of vice. The 
 proprietress will have no others than attractive women 
 in her house ; and as soon as the inmates begin to 
 show signs of the wretched life they lead, as soon as 
 sickness falls upon them, or they lose their beauty and 
 freshness, she sends them away, and fills their places 
 with more attractive women. She has no difficulty in 
 4loing this, for she has her agents on the watch for 
 
478 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 them all the time, and unfortunately new women AVft 
 always soliciting admission to such places. Besides 
 this, the proprietress knows that her patrons soon 
 grow tired of seeing the same women in her estab- 
 lishment. She must make frequent changes to satisfy 
 them, and she has no scruples about thrusting a woman 
 out of her doors to begin the descent of the ladder of 
 shame. Therefore, about one or two years is the 
 average term of the stay of a woman in a fashionable 
 house. A few manage to remain longer, but the 
 number is so small as to constitute scarcely an excep- 
 tion to the general rule. As long as her "boarders"^ 
 remain with her, the proprietress treats them fairly 
 enough, apart from the fact that she manages to get 
 out of them all the money she can. The women earn 
 large amounts of money, but a considerable portion 
 of this goes for board and other expenses in the house, 
 and their extravagant habits and tastes exhaust the 
 rest. They save nothing, and if taken sick must gx> 
 to the Charity Hospital for treatment. Their drean^ 
 of saving money lasts but a short time, and they leave 
 the fashionable houses penniless. 
 
 The visitors to these houses are men of means. No 
 one without a full pocket could afford such indulgence. 
 Visitors are expected to spend considerable money for 
 wine, which is always furnished by the proprietress at 
 the most exorbitant prices, and at a profit of about 20a 
 per cent. A large part of her revenue is derived front 
 such sales, and she looks sharply after this branch of her 
 business. The shamelessness with which men of stand* 
 ing and prominence, many of whom are husbands and 
 fiathers of families, resort to these houses, and display 
 
VISITORS TO FIRST-CLASS HOUSES. 479 
 
 themselves in the parlors is astounding. Indeed, the 
 keeper of one of the most fashionable houses boasts 
 that married men are her principal customers. Some- 
 times the visitor desires that his visit shall not be 
 known. For such persons there are private rooms, 
 where they are sure of seeing no one but the propri- 
 etress and the woman for whom their visit is intended. 
 The fashionable houses are largely patronized by stran- 
 gers visiting New York ; these, thinking themselves 
 unknown in the great city, care little for privacy, and 
 boldly show themselves in the general parlors. The 
 proportion of married and middle-aged men among 
 them is very great. You will find among them law- 
 yers, physicians, judges of courts, members^ of Con- 
 gress, and even ministers of the gospel from all parts 
 of the country. This may seem a startling assertion, 
 but the police authorities will confirm it. If the secrets 
 of these places as regards their visitors could be made 
 public, there would be a terrible trouble in many happ}r 
 families throughout the land, as well as in the Metrop 
 olis. Men who at home are models of propriet)* 
 seem to lose all sense of restraint when they come tc< 
 New York. These same gentlemen would be mer 
 ciless towards any female member of their familief/ 
 who should display a similar laxity. 
 
 To return to the women: — The inmates of the first- 
 class houses rarely remain in them for more than two 
 years. Their shameful and dissipated lives render 
 them by this time unfit for companionship with their 
 aristocratic associates. The proprietress quickly dc; 
 tects this, and remorselessly orders them from her 
 house. She knows the fate that awaits them; but her 
 
480 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 only care !s to keep her house full of fresh and attrac- 
 tive women. 
 
 Having quitted the fashionable house, the wretched 
 woman has no resource but to enter a second-class 
 house, and thus go down one grade lower in vice. The 
 difference between this place and the house she has 
 left is very great. The proprietress is cruel and ex- 
 acting, and boldly robs her boarders whenever occa- 
 sion offers. The visitors are more numerous, but are 
 a rougher and coarser set than those who patronized 
 her in the first stage of her career. Money is less 
 plentiful, her life is harder in every way, and she seeks 
 relief from the reflections that will crowd upon her in 
 drink, and perhaps to drunkenness adds the vice of 
 opium eating. Her health breaks fast. What was left 
 of her beauty when she entered the house soon fades, 
 and in two or three years she becomes unfit to remain 
 even in a second-class house. She is turned into the 
 street by the proprietress, who generally robs her of 
 her money and jewelry, and sometimes even of her 
 clothing, save what she has on at the time. The 
 wretches who keep these houses do not hesitate to 
 detain a woman's trunk, or other effects, upon some 
 trumped-up charge of arrears of debt, when they have 
 no longer any use for her. The poor creature has no 
 redress, and is obliged to submit in silence to any 
 wrong practised upon her. 
 
 The woman whose career opened so brilliantly is 
 now a confirmed prostitute and drunkard, bloated, 
 sickly, and perhaps diseased. She is without hope» 
 and there is, nothing left to her but to sink still lower. 
 Yet it is only four or five years, perhaps less, since 
 
THE GREENE STREET BAGNIOS. 
 
 481 
 
 she entered the fashionable up-town mansion, beauti- 
 ful and attractive in all the freshness of her charms, 
 and little dreaming of the fate in store for her. She 
 is not an exception to the rule, however. She has but 
 followed the usual road, met the inevitable doom of 
 her class. 
 
 From the second-class house the lost woman passes 
 into one of the bagnios of Greene, Worster, or some * 
 similar street. Here her lot is infinitely more wretched. 
 Her companions are the vilest of her class, and the 
 visitors are thieves, roughs, and men who cannot gain 
 admittance into places such as she has left. She finds 
 herself a slave to the keeper of the house, who is often 
 a burly ruffian, and even more brutal than a woman 
 would be in the same position. She is robbed of her 
 earnings, is beaten, and often falls into the hands of 
 the police. She becomes familiar with the station- 
 house, the Tombs, and Blackwell's Island, and what- 
 ever of womanly feeling remained to her is crushed 
 out of her. She is a brute simply. She remains in 
 Greene street and similar places a year or two — hu- 
 man nature cannot bear up longer against such a life 
 — and is then unfit to remain even there. Would you 
 seek her after this, you will find her in the terrible 
 dens, sailors' dance houses, and living hells of Water 
 street, or some kindred locality. She is a mass of 
 disease, utterly vile and repulsive, steadily dying from 
 her bodily ailments, and the effects of rum and gin. 
 She has reached the bottom of the ladder, and can go 
 no lower. She knows it, and in a sort of dumWy des- 
 perate way is glad it is so. Life is such a daily torture 
 to her, hope has so entirely left her, that death only 
 
482 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 offers her any relief. She is really a living corpse. The 
 end soon comes. Some die from the effects of their 
 terrible lives, and, ah ! such fearful deaths ; others are 
 killed or fatally injured in the drunken brawls which 
 so often occur in this locality; and others still seek an 
 end of their miseries in the dark waters of the East 
 River. 
 
 I draw no exaggerated picture of the gradual but 
 inevitable descent of a fallen woman in New York. 
 Every detail is true to life. Seven years is the aver- 
 age life of an abandoned woman in the great city. 
 She may begin her career with all the eclat possible, 
 she may queen it by virtue of her beauty and charms 
 in some fashionable house, at the beginning, and may 
 even outlast the average term at such places ; it mat- 
 ters not ; her doom is certain. The time will come 
 when she must leave the aristocracy of shame, must 
 take the second step in her terrible career. Seven 
 years for the majority of these women, and then death 
 in its most horrible form. Some may, and do, antici- 
 pate the end of it by suicide ; few ever escape from it. 
 '*The wages of sin is death." Some cherish the hope 
 that after a few years of pleasure they will reform ; 
 but, alas, they find it impossible to do so. A few, a 
 very few, do escape through the aid extended to them 
 by the Midnight Mission, but they are so few that they 
 but serve to emphasize the hopelessness of the effort 
 The doom of the fallen woman is sure. "The wages 
 of sin is death." Once entered upon a career of 
 shame, the whole world sets its face against her. 
 Even the men who associated with her in her palmy 
 days would turn a deaf ear to her appeals for aid 
 
LURING YOUNG GIRLS TO RUIN. 
 
 488 
 
 after she has gone down into the depths. I would to 
 God that the women who are about to enter upon 
 this terrible life could walk through the purlieus of 
 Water street and witness the sights that I have seen 
 there. I w^ould they could see the awful, rum-bloated, 
 disease-scarred, despairing faces that look out from 
 the bagnios of that terrible neighborhood, and then 
 realize that, however brilliant the opening of their ca- 
 reer may be, this must be the end of it. It is idle for 
 them to hope to escape the terrible doom of the fallen 
 woman. '*The wages of sin is death." Would any 
 one know what sort of a death ? Let her come to 
 New York and see. 
 
 Many of the women of the town never pass through 
 the various gradations of vice that I have described. 
 Many never see the inside of a fashionable house of 
 ill-fame, but begin lower down the scale, as inmates 
 of second-class houses, as waiter girls in concert sa- 
 loons, as inmates of dance houses, or as street walkers. 
 These meet their inevitable doom all the quicker, but 
 not the less surely. 
 
 The city is full of people whose object is to lead 
 young girls into lives of shame. Some of these are 
 men, but the majority are women. They watch the 
 hotels, and lure respectable girls away on various pre- 
 texts. Every inducement is held out to working girls 
 and women to adopt the vile trade, and many fall will- 
 ing victims. Hundreds of these women are from New 
 England. They come to the city seeking work, and 
 are sometimes successful. Often, however, they can 
 find nothing to do, and, when poverty and want stare 
 them in the face, they listen to the voice of the 
 
484 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 tempter, become street walkers, waiters in concert 
 halls, or inmates of houses of ill-fame. Sometimes, 
 while they are in the first days of their success, they 
 will write home that they are pursuing honest callings 
 in the city, and earning reputable livings, and will 
 even send money home to their deluded parents. 
 After a while the letters cease — the writers have 
 gone down into the depths; they are lost. Said one 
 whose duties often brought him in contact with women 
 of this class : " It is strange to see how these women 
 cherish the memory of their homes even in the midst 
 of their shame. They will speak of the pleasant home, 
 of the old father or mother, in accents full of despair. 
 Often these memories will cause them to burst into 
 uncontrollable weeping. If I try to take advantage of 
 this moment of tenderness, and urge them to make 
 an effort to reform, I am met with but one answer, — 
 ' It is too late.* " The keepers of the bagnios of the 
 city use every means to lure young women into their 
 power. Not long since a girl, who had managed to 
 escape from a Greene street brothel, told the follow- 
 ing story to the magistrate at the Jefferson Market 
 Police Court. It reveals the system practised in such 
 places. " I watched the advertisements in the papers 
 to see something that would suit me. I learned that 
 a Mrs. Myers, of Greene street, wanted two young 
 girls to do light chamber work, and I hastened there, 
 with a friend, in quest of a job. We were received 
 by Mrs. Myers, who sat down and began to explain 
 to us the nature of the duties we were expected to 
 perform. It was an awful proposition, your Honor. 
 She kept a house of ill- fame. We fled. I was very 
 
A FORTUNATE ESCAPE. 
 
 485 
 
 much discouraged. Not so my friend, who told me 
 there was another lady down the street, who was 
 really in want of girls to help her. We went to her 
 house. It was another of the same sort ; but after I 
 got in there my own clothes were taken away from 
 me, and the lady furnished me with some sort of silk, 
 trimmed with fur, and tried to make me behave and 
 act like the other girls in her establishment. I 
 remained there from Saturday to Wednesday night, 
 because I could not get away. I had no clothes to 
 wear in the streets, even if I should succeed in reach- 
 ing them, which was impossible, and the woman who 
 kept the house was angry with me, and treated me 
 brutally because I would not comply with her wishes. 
 I and another young girl tried to escape by climbing 
 over the fence of the back yard. The other girl got 
 away, but I was discovered by the barkeeper, who 
 drove me back into the house, with curses. On 
 Wednesday evening I was made to sit at the window, 
 and call a man, who was passing, into the house. He 
 ^urned out to be a detective, and arrested me, and 
 brought me here." 
 
 The girl's story proving to be true, the magistrate 
 restored her to her friends, and caused the arrest of 
 the keeper of the house. 
 
 The police are often called upon by the relatives of 
 abandoned women to assist them in finding them, and 
 rescuing them from their lives of shame. Sometimes, 
 in the cases ct very young girls, these efforts are suc- 
 cessful, and the poor creature gladly goes with her 
 friends. Others again refuse to leave their wretched 
 haunts ; they prefer to lead their lives of infamy. 
 
486 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 One night a young man called at the " Buckingham 
 Palace," a dance-house, in West Twenty-seventh street, 
 and inquired for his sister Dora, whom, he had learned, 
 was in that place. The young lady came out, while 
 he was speaking, in company with a well-dressed man. 
 Instead of complying with her brother's entreaties, 
 she entered a carriage, with her escort, and drove to 
 the Thirtieth street Police Station to seek release from 
 her brother's importunities. The brother followed, 
 told to the sergeant the story of his sister's shame, 
 and asked him to keep her there until he could sum 
 mon their father. The sergeant complied with this 
 request, and the father soon arrived. He was a re- 
 spectable master carpenter. He confirmed his son's 
 statement, and appealed to his daughter to go home 
 with him. She answered him flippantly, and the indig- 
 nant father cursed her for her sin, and would have 
 attacked the man with her had not the officers pre- 
 vented him. The woman was locked up for the night 
 in the station house, and brought before the Jefferson 
 Market Police Court the next morning. The father 
 urged that she should be sent to some reformatory 
 establishment, but the woman met him with the state- 
 ment that she was twenty-three years old, beyond 
 legal control, and therefore entitled to choose her own 
 mode of life. Her plea was valid, and the magistrate 
 was unwillingly compelled to discharge her from cus- 
 tody, though he endeavored to persuade her to re- 
 turn to her family. She then left the court room, was 
 joined by several flashily dressed women, and depart* 
 cd in high spirits, completely ignoring her relatives. 
 
 One of the worst classes of abandoned women con- 
 
THE STREET WALKERS. 
 
 487 
 
 sists of the street walkers. On Broadway, Sixth ave- 
 nue, and the Bowery these women are very numerous. 
 They are generally well dressed, and as a rule are 
 young. They pursue certain regular routes, rarely 
 pausing unless they " pick up " a companion, when 
 they dart off with him into a side street. On Broad- 
 way the police do not allow them to stop and accost 
 men, but they manage to do so. The neighborhoods 
 of the hotels and the places of amusement are their 
 principal "cruising grounds," and their victims are 
 mainly strangers to the city. Many of them have 
 some regular employment during the day, and ply 
 their wretched trade at night to increase their gains 
 They accompany their victims to the "bed-houses," 
 which are conveniently at hand, and if an opportunity 
 occurs will rob him. They frequent the dance halls 
 and concert saloons, in fact, every place to which they 
 can obtain admission, and leave no means untried to 
 lure men into their company. As a rule, they are 
 vicious in the extreme, they drink heavily, and are 
 fearfully diseased. 
 
 Many of the street walkers are in the regular em- 
 ploy of the "panel houses," which abound in the city. 
 These houses are kept by men, who are among the 
 most desperate roughs in New York. The woman is 
 either the mistress of one of these men, or in his pay. 
 The method pursued is as follows: — The street walker 
 secures her victim on the street, or at some concert 
 hall or dance house. He is generally a stranger, and 
 ignorant of the localities of the city. She takes him 
 to her room, which is an apartment provided with a 
 partition in which there is a sliding door or panel. 
 
488. NEW YORK. 
 
 The confederate of the woman is concealed behind 
 this partition, and, at a favorable moment, slides back 
 the panel, enters the room, and rifles the clothing of 
 the victim of the money and valuables contained in it. 
 If discovered, the panel thief endeavors to disable the 
 victim. The latter is no match for his assailant, and is 
 from the first at a disadvantage. The thief is desper- 
 ate, and is generally armed. He does not hesitate at 
 anything, and, if necessary, will murder the victim, the 
 woman assisting him in the fearful work. Then the 
 body is left until near morning, when it is placed in a 
 wagon engaged by the thief, carried to the river, and 
 thrown into the water. Generally the robbery is ac- 
 complished without the necessity of resorting to vio- 
 lence. The victim either puts up with his loss in 
 silence, or reports it to the police. The records at 
 Police Headquarters contain reports of numerous rob- 
 beries of this kind. Yet the evil goes on. Strangers 
 in the city incur a terrible risk in accompanying street 
 walkers and women whom they meet at concert and 
 dance halls to their homes. In nine cases out of ten, 
 robbery is certain. Murder is too often the result of 
 such an adventure. Truly, Solomon was wise indeed, 
 when he wrote : — " He hath taken a bag of money 
 with him. . . With her much fair speech she caused him 
 to yield, with the flattering of her lips she forced him. . . 
 He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the 
 slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks ; 
 till a dart strike through his liver; as a bird hasteth to 
 the snare, and knoweth not it is for his life. . . Her 
 house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers 
 of death." 
 
THE CONCERT SALOONS. 
 
 489 
 
 The concert saloons are amone the worst features 
 of the social evil. They flourish along certain parts 
 of Broadway, Sixth avenue, and the Bowery, and are 
 simply so many places where the devil's work is done. 
 They provide a low order of music, and the service of 
 the place is rendered by young w^omen, many of whom 
 are dressed in tights and all sorts of fantastic costumes, 
 the chief object of which is to display the figure as 
 much as possible. The liquors furnished are of the 
 vilest description. The girls are hideous and unat- 
 tractive, and are foul-mouthed and bloated. The vis- 
 itors are principally young men, and even boys, though 
 older men, and even gray heads, are sometimes seen 
 among them. The women are prostitutes of the low- 
 est order. They encourage the visitors to drink, 
 shamelessly violate every rule of propriety, and are 
 always in readiness to rob a visitor who is too far 
 gone in liquor to protect himself. These places are 
 frequented by ruffians, whose only object is robber}^ 
 They keep a watch over the visitors ; and when one 
 of the latter, overcome with liquor, staggers out of 
 the place, follow him, lure him into a back street, rob 
 him, and, if necessary to their own safety, murder him. 
 Oftentimes they lure their helpless victims to the river 
 front, and there rob and kill him, and throw his body 
 into the water, where it is found by the harbor police. 
 
 The dance halls are often handsome places, but all 
 are simply the rendezvous of street walkers, and men 
 who come to seek their company. The principal es- 
 tablishments of this kind are the Buckingham Palace, 
 the Cremorne Garden, and the Haymarket. At the 
 Cremorne all are admitted free, but at the others an 
 
490 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 admission fee is charged for men. The " Buckingham 
 is the handsomest dance house in the city. We enter 
 through a lobby into a bar-room, back of which lies 
 the dance hall. This is a gaudily decorated apart- 
 ment, two stories in height, with a gallery running 
 around it on a level with the second story. Tables 
 and chairs are scattered about the sides of the first 
 floor, but the central space is kept clear for dancing. 
 The galleries are also provided with tables and chairs. 
 At the back is a dimly- lighted space, fitted up like a 
 garden, where those who desire it may sit and drink, 
 and at the side are a shooting-gallery and a restaurant. 
 'The place is always well filled. The women present 
 are the inmates of the neighboring houses of ill-fame 
 and street walkers. Each one is a prostitute, and each 
 is intent upon luring some man into her clutches. The 
 men are mostly very young, but on " gala nights," 
 and during the " balls " which are given here in the 
 winter, almost every class of society is represented by 
 the male visitors. An orchestra in the gallery oppo- 
 site the entrance provides the music, and dancing is 
 constantly going on on the floor of this hall. Men 
 and women are constantly passing in and out ; drink- 
 ing is going on in every part of the hall ; and the air 
 is heavy with tobacco smoke. In spite of its brilliancy 
 and splendor, the place is but one of the numerous 
 gateways to hell with which New York abounds. Men 
 meet abandoned women here, and accompany them to 
 their homes, risking disease, robbery, and even death, 
 with a recklessness that is appalling. Young men of 
 respectable families come here nightly, and spend 
 hours in company with the abandoned women who 
 
492 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 frequent the place. These same young gentlemen 
 would shrink with a fastidious horror from even a few 
 moments' conversation with the cooks and housemaids 
 of their own homes. Yet here they find pleasure in asso- 
 ciation with women equally as ignorant and unrefined, 
 and in every way unworthy to compare with " Biddy,'* 
 who is honest and virtuous, whatever her other faults 
 may be. 
 
 The lowest dance houses are situated on the river 
 fronts and in the adjoining streets, and are largely fre- 
 quented by sailors. The women at these places are 
 generally residents of the house, whose sleeping rooms 
 are above the dance hall. They are in the last stages 
 of prostitution, and are fearful to behold. 
 
 A great deal of immorality is carried on in the city 
 of which the police cannot take cognizance, and of 
 which it is impossible to obtain statistics. This grade 
 of vice is confined largely to persons of nominal 
 respectability. The columns of certain city journals 
 contain numerous personals by which appointments 
 are made, and communications exchanged between 
 persons engaged in intrigues. These people support 
 the numerous assignation houses which abound in the 
 city. About ninety of these houses, of all grades, are 
 known to the police, but there are others which are 
 conducted so privately that the police have no knowl- 
 edge of them. It is said that some of the most fash- 
 ionable are owned and furnished by men of nominal 
 respectability. They put a woman in charge of the 
 house, and share the large receipts with her. 
 
 Great efforts are made by benevolent people to 
 lessen the amount of vice with whicli the Metropolis 
 
THE MIDNIGHT MISSION. 493 
 
 is cursed. The Midnight Mission, in Greene street, 
 is the most successful of the various means that have 
 been adopted to rescue fallen women from their 
 wretched lives. It is open to every fallen woman who 
 will seek refuge in it, and its invitations are scattered 
 among this class by its agents. The women are treated 
 with kindness, and encouraged to reform. They come 
 voluntarily, and leave when they wish to do so. They 
 are always welcomed; however often they may wander 
 back into sin, the Mission never closes its doors upon 
 them. "Until seventy times seven," is its rule. In a 
 single year, as many as 282 women sought refuge in 
 the Mission. Of this number, 73 were found good 
 situations where they could earn an honest living, and 
 26 were restored to their relatives and friends. Year 
 after year the Mission continues its good work, res- 
 cuing a few from sin and shame. The other reforma- 
 tory institutions are, "The House of the Good Shep- 
 herd," the " House of Mercy," and the " New York 
 Magdalen and Benevolent Society." They are^ all 
 correctional establishments, and more or less force is 
 employed in the treatment of those who are refractory. 
 The majority of their inmates are sent to them by the 
 police courts. 
 
 One of the greatest evils of the city is the existence 
 of a class of men and women who make their living 
 by practising abortion upon women who have been 
 betrayed, and seek to remove the consequences of 
 their sin. These abortionists are well known to the 
 police, who spare no effort to break up the infamous 
 business. They continue to flourish, however, in spite 
 of the exertions of the authorities. They advertise 
 
494 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 boldly in such city journals as will admit their adver- 
 tisements, and reap large profits from the sale of drugs 
 and the performance of operations upon pregnant 
 women. Their calling is illegal, and the statute book 
 denounces grave penalties against them. To bring 
 on premature confinement, which shall result in the 
 death of a child, is made by the law of New York 
 manslaughter in the second degree. In spite of this, 
 however, infanticide flourishes in New York, and every 
 year the city journals contain numerous accounts of 
 the death of women at the hands of professional abor- 
 tionists. They are arrested and punished whenever 
 a clear case can be made out against them ; but others 
 spring up to take their places, and the infamous busi- 
 n^ess continues to thrive. Some of the more cautious 
 practitioners will not undertake a premature delivery 
 of a woman, but content themselves with receiving 
 her, and carrying her safely through her confinement. 
 They require that she shall be "backed" by some 
 responsible man. The child, when born, is sent to 
 some foundling asylum, or given to persons willing to 
 adopt it. Often the practitioner places it in the hands 
 of some person to care for it, and, where the parents 
 are of good position in society, and possessed of wealth, 
 holds it as a means of extorting money from them. 
 Large sums are wrung from the parents in this way, in 
 order to avoid an exposure, and men and women have 
 been driven to despair and suicide by the wretches 
 in whose power they have placed themselves. 
 
 One of the most notorious women of this class was 
 
 the late Madame R . A large part of her income 
 
 was derived from the sale of drugs warranted to bring 
 
THE WICKEDEST WOMAN IN NEW YORK. 495 
 
 on miscarriages. She amassed a large fortune by her 
 business, built a magnificent house on Fifth avenue, 
 and lived in royal style. She would never commit an 
 abortion outright, but would safely deliver her patients, 
 take care of the children born in her house, and use 
 them as the means of extorting money from the parents. 
 Her patients were invariably women of position in so- 
 ciety, in the city and other parts of the country, and 
 .she would receive no one into her house unless 
 "backed" by a man of known wealth. At length her 
 wicked ways threw her into the hands of the police. 
 The evidence against her was overwhelming, and, to 
 escape the just punishment of her crimes, the wretched 
 •woman committed suicide. 
 
496 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 JAY GOULD. 
 
 KARLir UFE OF THE GREAT PINANCIBR — PERSONAL APPEARANCE — KNOWLBDGB OP LAW — 
 ENTERS THE ERIE ROAD— BLACK FRIDAY — HOW GOULD CAME OUT OF IT — A SHREWD 
 GAME IN "ERIK "—HIS WEALTH — ATTACKED IN WALL STREET— HIS METHOD OF OPER- 
 ATING. 
 
 Thefe is not a village or town in the United States 
 in which the name of Jay Gould is not as familiar as a 
 household word. He is a native of New York State, 
 and is in the neighborhood of fifty years of age. He 
 is a small, puny man, scarcely larger than a boy of 
 sixteen, with black beard and hair, black eyes, and a 
 timid, shrinking manner. He is secretive in every- 
 thing, and has the rare gift of keeping his own coun- 
 sel under all circumstances. He is well educated, and 
 is the most daring and resolute financier in the United 
 States. It is said that his knowledge of law is won- 
 derful for an amateur, and that he can draw the most 
 difficult legal paper with the ease and skill of an old 
 practitioner. He has few friends, and is suspicious of 
 all his associates, who return his distrust with equal 
 heartiness. 
 
 Mr. Gould began his business life in his native State, 
 after which he engaged in an unsuccessful venture in 
 Pennsylvania. He then went to Vermont, where he 
 ivas made Superintendent of the Rutland Railroad, 
 which he soon placed upon a paying basis. Its heaviest 
 stockholder was a Mr. Miller, whose daughter Mr. 
 Gould married in 1861. Mr. Miller was also largely 
 
JAY GOULD. 
 
 497 
 
 interested in the Erie Railroad, and through his influ- 
 ence Mr. Gould, some years afterwards, was elected 
 its President. His career in this capacity, and his con- 
 nection with the late James Fisk, Jr., are too well known 
 to make it necessary to relate them here. 
 
 He is credited, together with Fisk, with having 
 brought about the famous "Black Friday" corner in 
 the gold market, and it is asserted in Wall street that 
 
 JAY GOULD. 
 
 when the bubble burs ted, he escaped loss by quietly 
 selling out his millions of gold to his partner, Fisk, and 
 consigning that individual to almost ruin. When he 
 was driven out of the Erie Railroad, the public was 
 astonished by the announcement that he had been 
 compelled to make restitution to the Erie Company 
 of $6,000,000 worth of property. \Vith characteristic 
 shrewdness he managed to make even this humiliation 
 
498 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 a matter of gain. The transaction was necessarily 
 kept secret until it was concluded ; but meanwhile 
 Gould, knowing that the road's enrichment to so large 
 an amount would send the stock up, bought all there 
 was in the market. When the news of the restitution 
 was made public, Erie stock rose rapidly, and Gould 
 sold all he had at an enormous profit. He is said to 
 have cleared $6,000,000 on the transaction. 
 
 Mr. Gould's wealth is very great, and is estimated 
 anywhere from $10,000,000 to $50,000,000, but no one 
 knows the true amount. His railroad interests are 
 tremendous, and he is practically the owner of the 
 telegraph system of the United States. He resides 
 in a handsome mansion on Fifth avenue. 
 
 He is cordially hated by Wall street operators, 
 many of whom have suffered severely from his re- 
 morseless combinations. In such matters he spares 
 neither friend nor foe. A few years ago a party of 
 Wall street men seized him near the Stock Exchange, 
 and after handling him very roughly, threw him into 
 a neighboring area. He saved himself from further 
 harm by instant flight. 
 
 Mr. Gould rarely fails in his undertakings, and con- 
 ducts them in a characteristic manner. They say in 
 Wall street, that when he appears freely and frequendy 
 in the street, the brokers feel safe; but when he is 
 missing for a day or two, Wall street begins to trem- 
 ble and looks out for squalls. When he is about to 
 put some great scheme in operation, he retires to his 
 Fifth avenue house, and remains there until it is over, 
 communicating all the while with his agents in the 
 market by telegraph. 
 
THE FIRST DIVISION. 499 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE NATIONAL GUARD. 
 
 THE FIRST DIVISION— ITS ORGANIZATION— HOW ARMED — APPROPRIATIONS BV THE CITY— 
 FRIVATE EXPENSES — THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF — EFFICIENCY OF THE TROOPS — PAST 
 SERVICES OF THE FORCE— OVERAWING THE MOB— PUTTING DOWN RIOTS — A REINfORCK- 
 
 MENT TO THE POLICE — DISCIPLINE — THE ARMORIES— THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORV 
 
 PARADES. 
 
 The military organizations of the City of New York 
 constitute the First Division of the National Guard of 
 the State of New York, and are justly regarded with 
 
 SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT ARMORY. 
 
 pride by the citizens of the Metropolis. The division 
 numbers about 6,500 men, and consists of four bri- 
 gades, which are divided into nine regiments of in- 
 
 I 
 
500 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 fantry. In addition to these are one regiment and 
 a troop of cavalry, and four batteries of artillery. The 
 arms of the force, ammunition, and some other neces- 
 sities, are provided by the United States. The regi- 
 ments select their own uniform and equipments, and 
 these are purchased by the members at their own ex- 
 pense. The city makes an appropriation of $500 a 
 year for each regiment ; but other expenses, such as 
 the cost of parades, the hire of bands, and the fitting- 
 up of armories are borne by the regiments. 
 
 The entire force is under the command of a Major- 
 General, whose headquarters are at 155 Mercer street. 
 The division is always at the orders of the Governor 
 of the State, who is ex-officio Commander-in-chief of 
 the National Guard of New York, and may be called 
 kito active service at his discretion. 
 
 The men are well-drilled, and constitute an efficient 
 force, which can be relied upon in time of need. The 
 majority of them are veteran soldiers, and saw service 
 during the late Civil War. They have repeatedly proved 
 their efficiency in the riots which they have been called 
 upon to quell. They have promptly and bravely re- 
 sponded to every call upon them, preventing a terrible 
 and disastrous riot when the banks suspended specie 
 payments in 1837 ; putting down the Astor Place riot 
 in 1849 i preventing a serious riot at the time of the 
 organization of the Metropolitan Police force ; rescu- 
 ing the city from the mob in the Draft riots in 1863 ; 
 checking the Orange riots in 1871 ; and overawing 
 the mob in the Railroad riots in 1877. The men are 
 not holiday soldiers in any sense, but are trained troops; 
 ready at any moment to play their part in the preser- 
 
REGIMENTAL ARMORIES. 501 
 
 vation of order in the Metropolis. They constitute a 
 strong and effective reinforcement to the police, and 
 the rougher element of the city know that they are no 
 match for such a force as this, as they have learned 
 from experience that the troops will fire when the 
 word is given. The police, on their part, are en- 
 couraged by the knowledge that behind them stand 
 the National Guard ready to support them when the 
 task of preserving order is too great for them. The 
 citizens appreciate this, and contribute liberally to the 
 support of the miHtary. 
 
 The discipline is very rigid. The men are not vol- 
 unteers, but are regularly enlisted in the service of the 
 State, and are liable to severe punishment for any in- 
 fraction of discipline. Delinquent members, sentenced 
 by court-martial to imprisonment, are confined in Lud- 
 low street jail. 
 
 Each regiment has an armory, in which are kept its 
 arms and valuable property. The armory is in charge 
 of an armorer, who takes care of the arms, and keeps 
 them in good order. A drill room constitutes the 
 principal hall of the armory, and in some of these 
 buildings reading rooms, a library, committee, and 
 company rooms are provided. The regiments take a 
 pride in decorating and furnishing their armories as 
 handsomely as their means will permit. The Sixty- 
 ninth Regiment armory and the armory of the Sev- 
 enth Regiment are the handsomest in the city. The 
 latter building is a notable structure, and occupies an 
 entire block, bounded by Fourth and Lexington ave- 
 nues and Sixty-sixth and Sixty-seventh streets. It is 
 built of brick, with granite trimmings, and has the 
 
502 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Strength of a fortress and the elegance and comfort 
 of a club-house. It cost over ^300,000, and the inte- 
 rior was decorated and furnished at the expense of the 
 regiment. The regimental drill room is 300 by 200 
 feet in size, and besides this there are ten company 
 drill rooms, an officers' room, a veterans' room, a field 
 and staff room, a gymnasium, and six squad drill 
 rooms. 
 
 SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY. 
 
 The parades of the division are among the sights 
 of the city, and draw great crowds to witness them. 
 The martial bearing of the troops, their splendid uni- 
 forms and equipments, and the perfect discipline which 
 marks every movement, elicit hearty applause from the 
 citizens who line the entire route of the march. 
 
THE RICHEST UXS IN NEW YORK. 
 
 503 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 WILLIAM H. VANDERBILT. 
 
 im« RICHEST MAN IN NEW YORK— EARLY LIFE — BECOMES A FARMER — ENTERS THE RAILROAB 
 WORLD — BECOMES VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE NEW YORK CENTRAL SYSTEM — SUCCEEDS TH« 
 OLD COMMODORE — THE VANDERBILT PALACES — LOVE OF FAST HORSES. 
 
 The richest man in New York is William H. Van- 
 derbilt, Esq. He is the oldest son of the late Com- 
 modore Vanderbilt, and was born at New Brunswick, 
 
 New Jersey, on the 8th of May, 1821. He obtained 
 his early education at the Columbia College Grammar 
 School, and at the age of eighteen began his business 
 career as a clerk in the banking house of Drew, Rob- 
 
504 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 inson & Co., of Wall street. Here he remained two 
 years, and gave such marked evidences of business 
 capacity, that his employers began to contemplate 
 taking him into partnership when he should have 
 reached his majority. His health gave way, however, 
 before this plan could be carried out, and he left Wall 
 street, and took a farm on Stateh Island. Devoting 
 himself to his new pursuit with characteristic vigor, he 
 brought the farm up in the course of a few years, and 
 made it pay handsomely. He then undertook the 
 receivership of the badly crippled Staten Island Rail- 
 road, and soon brought that out of its difficulties, and 
 became its president. In 1864 he became vice-pres- 
 ident of the Harlem Railroad, and soon after of the 
 Hudson River Railroad. Upon the consolidation of 
 the Hudson River and New York Central Railroads 
 in 1869, he was made vice-president and execuiive 
 officer of the organization. Since then his career has 
 been a part of the railway history of the country. 
 During the life of his father, " Billy," as the old Com- 
 modore affectionately called him, was his confidant and 
 executive officer, and through him the far-reaching 
 plans of the "railroad king" were carried into suc- 
 cessful execution. The united efforts of father and 
 son more than trebled the value of the great railway 
 lines in their hands, and little by little the ownership 
 of the vast combination passed into their possession. 
 *' Billy" displayed the highest executive ability, and 
 from the first took his place among the great railway 
 managers of the country. At the death of Commo- 
 dore Vanderbilt, he succeeded his father in the presi- 
 dency of the various roads under his control, and is 
 
THE VANDERBILT MANSIONS. 
 
 505 
 
 now vice-president of a number of other roads in the 
 West and South. He also became, by his father's 
 will, the heir to the great bulk of the vast estate left 
 by the Commodore. He is said to have more ready 
 money than any man in America, and his railroads 
 are a source of enormous income to him. 
 
 Mr. Vanderbilt was married in 1841 to Miss Kissam, 
 of New York, and has a large family. He resides in 
 an elegant mansion in Fifth avenue, and is now erect- 
 ing two of the finest dwelling houses in the city, on 
 Fifth avenue, between Fifty-first and Fifty-second 
 streets. Mr. Vanderbilt will reside at the corner of 
 Fifty-first street, and the adjoining house is for his 
 married daughters. Two of his sons, Cornelius and 
 William K. Vanderbilt, are also erecting splendid 
 mansions higher up the avenue. 
 
 Mr. Vanderbilt is still devoted to his farm, and takes 
 pride in regarding himself as a practical farmer. He 
 has inherited his father's love for fast horses, and pos- 
 sesses some of the best trotters in the country. He 
 is a good driver and is constantly on the road in fine 
 weather. 
 
506 
 
 NEW YORK, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 CRIME IN NEW YORK. 
 
 ■PROFESSIONAL CRIMINALS— THEIR NUMBERS— THE THIEVES— SUPERINTENDENT WALLING's D*. 
 SCRIPTION OF THEM — THE THIEF LANGUAGE — GRADES OF THIEVES — BURGLARS — BANK ROB- 
 BERS—SNEAK THIEVES— CONFIDENCE MEN— HOW THEY OPERATE — THE PICKPOCKETS 
 
 WHERE THEY COME FROM — THE ROGUES* GALLERY — THE RIVER THIEVES — DARING CRIMBB 
 — THE FENCES — HOW STOLEN GOODS ARE DISPOSED OF — TRICKS OF THE FENCES — THE 
 ROUGHS— BLACKMAILERS — HOW THEY FLEECE THEIR VICTIMS. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, men and women of certain 
 grades of intellect and temperament deliberately de- 
 vote themselves to lives of crime. These constitute 
 the professional criminals," who make up such a ter- 
 rible class in the population of every great city. Ip 
 New York this class is undoubtedly large, but not so 
 large as many people assert. That it is active and 
 dangerous, the police records of the city afford ample 
 testimony. It is very hard to obtain any reliable sta- 
 tistics respecting the professional votaries of crime, 
 but it would seem, after careful investigation, that New 
 York contains about 3000 of them. These consist 
 of thieves, burglars, river thieves, fences, and pick- 
 pockets. In addition to these we may include under 
 the head of pi-ofessional criminals, the following : — 
 Women of ill-fame, about 5000 ; keepers of gambling 
 houses, and of policy and lottery offices, about 600, 
 making in all nearly 9000 professional law-breakers, 
 or about one professional criminal in every 136 in- 
 habitants in a population of a million and a quarter. 
 This is a startling statement ; but unhappily it is true. 
 
PROFESSIONAL CRIMINALS. 
 
 507 
 
 The population of New York is more cosmopolitan 
 than that of any city in the Union, and the majority 
 of the people are poor. The struggle for existence 
 is a hard one, and offers every inducement to crime. 
 The political system, which is based upon plunder, 
 presents the spectacle of well known offenders going 
 unpunished by justice ; and is therefore so much en- 
 <:ouragement to the ignorant and degraded to enter 
 upon lives of dishonesty. - The professionals are not 
 all ignorant men or women, however. Among them 
 may be found many whose abilities, if properly di- 
 rected, would win for them positions of honor and 
 usefulness. There seems to be a fascination in crime 
 to these people, and they deliberately enter upon it. 
 
 The principal form which crime assumes in the Me- 
 tropolis is robbery. The professionals do not deliber- 
 ately engage in murder or the graver crimes ; though 
 they do not hesitate to commit them if necessary to 
 their success or safety. They prefer to pursue their 
 vocation without taking life ; and murder, arson, rape, 
 and capital crimes are, therefore, not more common, 
 in proportion to the population, in the Metropolis than 
 in other cities. Robbery, however, is a science here, 
 and it is of it in its various forms that this chapter will 
 treat. 
 
 The professional criminals of New York constitute 
 a distinct community ; they are known to each other, 
 and seldom make any effort to associate with people 
 of respectability. They infest certain sections of the 
 city where they can easily and rapidly communicate 
 with each other, and can hide in safety from the police. 
 
508 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Some time ago, Police Superintendent Walling thu» 
 described the thieves of New York : — 
 . " New York thieves are of two sorts — those who 
 steal only when they are tempted by want, or when an 
 unusual opportunity for successful thieving is thrown 
 in their way, and those who make a regular business 
 of stealing. A professional thief ranks among his fel- 
 lows according to his ability. Many professional 
 thieves are burglars. They drink to excess, and com- 
 mit so many blunders that they are easily detected by 
 the police. They gamble a great deal. When suc- 
 cessful they quarrel over their booty, and often betray 
 each other. A smart thief seldom drinks, and never 
 allows himself to get under the influence of liquor. 
 He takes care to keep himself in the best physical 
 trim ; and is always ready for a long run when pur- 
 sued, or a desperate struggle when cornered. He 
 must always have his wits about him. A thief of this 
 class makes a successful bank robber, forger, or con- 
 fidence swindler. Professional thieves seldom have 
 any home. Many of them find temporary shelter in 
 a dull season in houses of ill-repute. They associate 
 with, and are often married to, disreputable women^ 
 many of whom are also thieves. The smartest thieves 
 do not have homes, for the reason that they dare not 
 remain long in one place for fear of arrest. During 
 the summer New York thieves are to be found at all 
 the watering-places and seaside resorts. Later in the 
 season they attend the country fairs and agricultural 
 shows, and come back to the city at the beginning of 
 the winter. They are fond of political meetings ia 
 
 f 
 
THE THIEF LANGUAGE. 
 
 509 
 
 Jersey City and other places near New York, but do 
 not appear at meetings in this city." 
 
 Being asked whether there were any places in the 
 city where thieves were educated to their business, 
 Mr. Walling replied: — "No; it would be impossible 
 for such places to exist without being discovered 
 Thieves educate themselves, or get their knowledge 
 by associating with other thieves more experienced 
 than themselves. Those people who believe in the 
 existence of schools where boys are taught the art of 
 picking pockets, have got their belief from works of 
 fiction like Dickens's 'Oliver Twist.' The bucket shops 
 and brothels of the city where thieves congregate, 
 are the only places which can be called schools of 
 crime." 
 
 For purposes of communicating with each other, 
 the professional thieves have a language, or argot, 
 which is also common to their brethren in England. 
 It is generally known as " Patter," and is said to be 
 of Gypsey origin. A few phrases, taken at random 
 from it, will give the reader an idea of it : Abraham^ 
 to sham, to pretend sickness ; Autumn cove, a married 
 man ; Autumn cackler, a married woman ; Bag of 
 nails, everything in confusion ; Ballum rancum, a ball 
 where all the damsels are thieves and prostitutes'; 
 Barbary coast, Water street ; Bill of sale, a widow's 
 weeds ; Booked, arrested ; Bingo mort, a drunken 
 woman ; Brown stone, beer ; Cain and Abel, a table ; 
 Cap-your-lucky, to run away ; City College, the Tombs; 
 Consolation, assassination ; Doxie, a girl ; Drawing, 
 pocket picking ; Duria, file ; Family man, a receiver 
 of stolen goods ; Free, to steal ; Gilt, a crowbar ; Gilt- 
 
510 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 (lubber, a hotel thief ; Madge, private places ; Ned, a 
 ten dollar gold piece ; Olive, the moon ; Plate of meat, 
 2l street of a city ; Poncess, a woman who supports a 
 man by her prostitution ; Star the glaze, break the 
 glass. 
 
 Experienced thieves are thoroughly familiar with 
 this language, and can speak to each other intelligi- 
 bly, while a bystander is in total ignorance of their 
 meaning. 
 
 The professional thieves are divided into various 
 classes, the members of which confine themselves 
 strictly to their particular line of work. They are 
 classed by the police, and by themselves, as follows r 
 Burglars, Bank Sneaks, Damper Sneaks, Safe Blow- 
 ers, Safe Bursters, Sneak Thieves, Confidence Men,, 
 and Pickpockets. A burglar will rarely attempt the 
 part of a sneak thief, and a pickpocket will seldom- 
 undertake a burglary. 
 
 The burglar stands at the head of the professional 
 class, and is looked up to by its members with admi- 
 ration and respect. He disdains the title of " thief," 
 and boasts that his operations require brains, and 
 nerve to an extraordinary degree. The safe blowers 
 and safe bursters are also classed by the police as 
 burglars, and are acknowledged by the craft as confed- 
 erates. They number about 325 known professionals. 
 The banks and the large business houses are their 
 "game." They disdain smaller operations. When a 
 plan to rob a bank has been formed, the burglar proper 
 calls the safe burster, and sometimes the safe blower^ 
 to his aid. One man often prepares. the way by open- 
 ing a small account with the bank, and drawing out 
 
HOW BANKS ARE ROBBED. 
 
 511 
 
 his deposits in small amounts. He visits the place at 
 different hours of the day, learns the habits of the 
 bank officers and clerks, and makes careful observa- 
 tions of the building and the safes in which the money 
 is kept. Frequently a room in the basement of the 
 bank building, or in an adjoining building, is hired 
 and occupied by a confederate. When all is ready, a 
 hole is cut through the floor into the bank room, or, in 
 rare cases, an opening is made through the walls from 
 an adjoining building. Once in the bank room, the 
 services of the safe blower or burster are called into 
 action. The former takes charge of the operation 
 when the safe is to be blown open by gunpowder. 
 He drills holes in the door of the safe by the lock, 
 and fills them with charges of gunpowder, which are 
 ignited by a fuse. The safe is carefully wrapped in 
 blankets to smother the noise of the explosion, and 
 the windows of the room are lowered about an inch 
 from the top, to prevent the breaking of the glass by 
 the concussion of the air. The explosion destroys 
 the lock, but makes litde noise, and the door of the 
 safe is easily opened. Where it is desirable not to 
 resort to an explosion, the safe burster makes the 
 safe fast to the floor by strong iron clamps, in order 
 that it may bear the desired amount of pressure. He 
 then drills holes in the door, into which he fits jack- 
 screws, worked by levers. These screws exert a tre- 
 mendous force, and soon burst the safe open. Some- 
 times, when small safes are to be forced open, they 
 use only a jimmy and a hammer, wrapping the ham- 
 mer with cloth to deaden the sound of the blows. 
 The safe once opened, the contents are at the mercy 
 
512 NEW YORK. 
 
 of the burglars. These never attack a safe without 
 having some idea of the booty to be secured, and the 
 amount of risk to be run. Saturday night is gener- 
 ally chosen for such operations. If the work cannot 
 be finished in time to allow the burglars to escape 
 before sunrise on Sunday, they continue it until suc- 
 cessful, and boldly carry off their plunder in broad 
 daylight. Where it can be done, the burglars prefer 
 to enter the bank by means of false keys. Onje of 
 them will frequent the bank and secure wax impres- 
 sions of the necessary keys, and from these false keys 
 are manufactured. Private houses are often robbed 
 by means of such keys. 
 
 The bank sneak is simply a bond robber. He con- 
 fines his operations to stealing United States and other 
 bonds, preferring coupon to registered bonds, as they 
 can be more easily disposed of. He frequents a bank 
 for a long period, and patiently observes the places 
 where the bonds and securities are kept. This he 
 manages to do without suspicion, and when all is 
 ripe for the robbery, he boldly enters the bank, makes 
 his way unobserved to the safe, snatches a package 
 of bonds, adding to it a bundle of notes, if possible, 
 and escapes. If the plunder consists of coupon bonds, 
 it is easily disposed of ; but registered bonds require 
 more careful handling. Generally, when the bank 
 offers a reward for their recovery, the thief enters 
 into communication with the detective appointed to 
 work up the case, and compromises with the bank by 
 restoring a part of the plunder on condition that he is 
 allowed to keep the rest and escape punishment. 
 
 The damper sneak is also a bond robber, but con- 
 
SNEAK THIEVES. 
 
 513 
 
 fines his depredations to brokers' offices. Wall street 
 is his field of operations, and has suffered heavily from 
 him. He enters a broker's office, under pretext of 
 waiting for a friend who has business with the house, 
 or some similar plea, and watches his opportunity to 
 get at the safe, which is generally left open during bus- 
 iness hours. Seizing a favorable moment, he passes 
 behind the counter unobserved, snatches whatever he 
 can lay his hands on, and leaves the office. In the 
 majority of instances he gets away with his plunder. 
 He trusts everything to chance, and steals anything 
 he can carry off. 
 
 The sneak thieves are the lowest in the list of pro- 
 fessional robbers. They confine their operations prin- 
 cipally to private dwellings and retail stores. They 
 are in constant danger of detection and arrest, and 
 are more often secured by the police than the other 
 classes we have mentioned. The dinner hour, which 
 in winter is after dark, is their favorite time for enter- 
 ing houses. They gain admittance by open doors or 
 windows, or by false keys, and take anything within 
 their reach. A favorite practice of sneak thieves is to 
 call at houses advertised for rent, and ask to be shown 
 the rooms. Another plan is to visit the offices of phy- 
 sicians and other professional men, and to steal arti- 
 cles of value in the waiting-rooms while they are left 
 alone. The majority of those who steal from stores 
 are women, who take articles from the counters while 
 the clerks are busily engaged in laying out goods for 
 their inspection. The practice of shoplifting has be- 
 come so common, that many of the leading stores 
 keep special detectives to watch the customers. 
 
 33 
 
534 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Confidence men make use of the credulity of country 
 people and strangers in the city. A favorite plan is 
 to watch the registers of the hotels, and get the names 
 and addresses of the guests. The method is as fol- 
 lows : — Mr. Smith comes to New York, puts up at 
 some prominent hotel, and after dinner saunters out 
 for a stroll. A confidence man, who has been on the 
 watch for his appearance, meets him some blocks 
 away from the hotel, and, rushing up to him, seizes his 
 hand, and exclaims delightedly, " Why, Mr. Smith, 
 how glad I am to see you. When did you arrive ? 
 How did you leave them all in Smithville?" Mr. 
 Smith is taken by surprise at being recognized in the 
 great city, and if he is at all credulous, the confidence 
 man has no trouble in making him believe that they 
 have met before. The swindler joins him in his 
 stroll, after a few moments of conversation confides 
 to him that he has drawn a large prize in a lottery, 
 and invites him to accompany him to the lottery office, 
 and see him receive the money. On the way they 
 visit a saloon and enjoy a friendly drink together. An- 
 other stranger now drops in, and is introduced to Mr. 
 Smith by the swindler. The new comer draws the 
 swindler aside and exchanges a few words with him, 
 whereupon the latter tells Smith that he owes the 
 stranger a small sum of money, and has unfortunately 
 left his pocket-book at his office. He asks his unsus- 
 pecting victim to lend him the amount until they reach 
 the lottery office, when he will return it. Smith pro- 
 duces the money, which is handed to the new comer, 
 who then takes his departure, and, the friends resume 
 their stroll toward the lottery office. On the way the 
 
PICKPOCKETS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 515 
 
 swindler manages to elude his victim, who seeks him 
 in vain, and goes back to his hotel a sadder and a 
 wiser man. Strange as it may seem, this is one of the 
 most successful tricks played in the city. It is often 
 varied, but is never attempted upon a resident of the 
 Metropolis. 
 
 The pickpockets of New York are very numerous. 
 The term pickpocket is regarded by the police as in- 
 cluding not only those who confine their efforts to 
 picking pockets and stealing satchels, travelling bags, 
 and valises, but also gradations of crime which ap- 
 proach the higher degrees of larceny from the person, 
 and highway robbery. The members of this class of 
 the thieving fraternity are well known to the police, 
 and the detectives are kept busy watching them. Their 
 likenesses are contained in the " Rogues' Gallery " at 
 police headquarters, and the authorities know the 
 thieves well, as their careers embrace in every instance 
 a long record of crime. Instances are not rare in which 
 a whole family, from the oldest to the youngest, is 
 equally deep in crime, the little ones having been 
 thoroughly and systematically educated by their par- 
 ents in the different branches of stealing, beginning 
 with the simple picking of the pocket of some unwary 
 person, and finally becoming able to commit the most 
 daring burglaries. The pickpockets are largely re- 
 cruited from the newsboy class. These boys grow up 
 in such constant association with criminals, that their 
 moral sense becomes so stunted that they step readily 
 into lives of crime. They are utterly cut off from 
 any saving or refining influence, and their lives throw 
 them into the companionship of thieves and aban- 
 
516 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 doned women, whose influence over them is all-pow 
 erful^ 
 
 Pickpockets do not as frequently travel in gangs 
 now as in former years. With the exception of the 
 old and well-known professionals, most of this class 
 of thieving is done by young men of i6 or i8 years, 
 who rob men whom they find intoxicated of the money 
 or valuables they may happen to have about them. It 
 is difficult to keep the track of the residences of pro- 
 fessional pickpockets, as they change them very often, 
 and also give a different name every time they are 
 arrested, so that they are best known by their aliases. 
 The police endeavor to have all known professional 
 thieves constantly under surveillance, but the task is 
 a difficult one. In addition to constantly changing 
 their places of abode, they are in and out of the city 
 frequently. Several saloons and localities, however, 
 have become notorious as resorts of pickpockets. A 
 saloon and hotel near the Bowery and Canal street, a 
 saloon near the junction of the Bowery and Fourth 
 street, and one near the corner of Mercer and Hous- 
 ton streets, are well known to the police as resorts of 
 thieves. 
 
 Most of the pickpockets now come, as we have said, 
 from among the bootblacks and newsboys, who do a 
 thriving business in the winter time, when overcoats 
 are worn with outside pockets for small change. A 
 newsboy, when offering to sell a paper, and while hold- 
 ing it before his customer's face, will skilfully extract 
 from the change pocket in his customer's overcoat all 
 that may be there. Great dexterity is sometimes ac- 
 quired in this manner. 
 
THE rogues' gallery. 
 
 517 
 
 The ferry boats, the street cars, and the platforms 
 and trains of the elevated railroads are favorite fields 
 for the operations of pickpockets. The neighborhood 
 of the Grand Central Depot is also busily worked by 
 them. One or more thieves will work his way into a 
 crowd of passengers, jostle them about, and rob them 
 with the utmost ease. Some are so bold as to make 
 scarcely any concealment of their work. 
 
 All professional pickpockets that are arrested, are 
 photographed, and their pictures are placed in the 
 "Rogues' Gallery" at police headquarters. It some- 
 times happens, though this is very rare, that one re- 
 forms and endeavors to gain an honest livelihood. In 
 that case his picture is taken out of the gallery and 
 privately kept by the Superintendent of Police or the 
 Chief of the Detective Force, and if the reformation 
 proves to be complete and thorough, the picture is 
 either destroyed or given up to the original. The de- 
 tectives claim that their efforts to arrest and convict 
 pickpockets are not properly seconded by the police 
 magistrates. In case a professional pickpocket who 
 is well known to the police is arrested late at night 
 on suspicion, he has to be taken to the police court by 
 ten o'clock the next morning. It often happens that 
 there are complaints in the detective office against 
 this very man, and a full description given by some 
 robbed person, which points out this one as the thief 
 wanted. The police magistrates, however, insist that 
 the evidence against the prisoner shall be immediately 
 forthcoming ; and, as it is frequently the case that the 
 complainant may be out of town, or for some other 
 
518 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 reason cannot be immediately found, the prisoner is 
 discharged. 
 
 One of the most dangerous and skilful classes of 
 pickpockets consists of women and young girls. These 
 operate with great success in dry-goods stores, churches, 
 and other crowded places where ladies congregate. 
 
 Another dangerous class of criminals are the river 
 thieves, or " River Pirates," as they are sometimes 
 termed. There are about fifty of this class known to 
 the police as professionals, and these are among the 
 most daring and successful robbers in the city. The 
 long line of the North River front of the island is well 
 lighted, and as it is largely occupied by the piers of 
 the great railroad and steamship lines, it is strongly 
 guarded by private watchmen, as well as by the city 
 police. The East River tront is neither so well lighted 
 nor so strongly guarded, and, therefore, constitutes 
 the principal scene of the operations of the river 
 thieves, though the North River front is by no means 
 exempt from their depredations. 
 
 The river thieves work hard for their plunder. 
 They operate in gangs of three or four, each of which 
 has a large, swift rowboat, equipped with bags and 
 tarpaulins. They row silently and with muffled oars 
 along the wharves, darting under the piers occasion- 
 ally to escape observation, until they reach the vessel, 
 or vessels, they have marked during the day for rob- 
 bery. Between midnight and morning is the time 
 chosen for their work. Every one on board the vessel 
 is asleep, even the man on the watch. Approaching 
 the vessel silently, they clamber on board by means 
 of her chains, or by a rope left hanging over the side. 
 
RIVER THIEVES. 
 
520 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Moving cautiously about her decks, they secure what- 
 ever they can lay their hands on, fill their bags, and 
 lOwer them into the boat. Though they will often 
 take original packages unbroken, they prefer to force 
 them open, and rifle them of their contents, which are 
 transferred to the bags. Merchandise thus removed 
 from the original package cannot be identified if the 
 thieves are arrested with it in their possession, and 
 robbery cannot be proved against them. They go 
 well armed, and, if discovered on board a ship, do not 
 hesitate to shed blood in their efforts to escape. In 
 spite of the vigilance of the harbor police, the chances 
 are largely in favor of the thieves. They choose theii 
 own time and place of operation, and conduct their 
 movements so secretly, and with such system, that they 
 are generally apt to escape. If pressed too hard by the 
 police boat, in their efforts to get away, they at once 
 open fire upon it, and sharp skirmishes often occur 
 between the officers of the law and the thieves. Dark 
 and stormy, and especially foggy, nights are the favor- 
 ite seasons for the operations of the river thieves. 
 They know every foot of the harbor on both sides of 
 the city, and are able to row for long distances under 
 the piers. The North and East River fronts of the 
 city, and the wharves of Brooklyn and Jersey City, and 
 even vessels lying at anchor in the harbor, are busily 
 worked by them. They rarely attempt to rob a 
 steamship, as the watch is stricter on those vessels 
 than on sailing ships, but several of the great Euro- 
 pean lines have suffered from their depredations. 
 Sometimes they find a schooner in charge of a single 
 man, or laid up for the winter. The man in charge 
 
RIVER PIRATES. 
 
 521 
 
 is quickly overcome, and the vessel is literally stripped 
 of everything that can be carried away from her, and 
 is left a perfect wreck. Sometimes a desperate gang- 
 will boldly attack a vessel lying in the harbor, and 
 endeavor to overpower her crew. They can be 
 driven off only after a hard hand-to-hand fight. 
 
 One of the worst gangs that ever infested the 
 waters of New York was led by Mike Shannahan, 
 Under his guidance the pirates would sail up and 
 down the East River in the schooner " Sunny Shower," 
 in searchi of molasses. When unable to obtain it 
 legitimately, they would steal it from the different 
 piers. When a sufficient quantity was accumulated, 
 they would sail to a retired nook in Long Island 
 Sound, and there manufacture whiskey in large quan- 
 tities. The vessel was supplied with everything neces- 
 sary for the business, and, unmolested by the authori- 
 ties, the gang soon made a large sum of money. One 
 of their boldest ^ploits was the robbery of the bark 
 Saone. The vessel lay at the upper quarantine station, 
 and was loaded with coffee. Owing to the prevalence 
 of yellow fever on board during the voyage, the cargo 
 was ordered to be discharged in lighters. Pulling 
 alongside in broad day, the pirates hailed the mate» 
 and asked to be allowed to come on board, as they 
 were thirsty. They found the mate was alone, and at 
 once boarded the ship. Before he was aware of their 
 intentions, the mate was seized, placed below the 
 hatches, and tied to the ringbolts on the main deck. 
 During all this time the Staten Island ferry boats, and 
 other vessels, were passing and repassing continually. 
 Taking off the hatches, the thieves transferred to their 
 
622 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 boat two hundred bags of coffee, and, bidding the mate 
 good day, left the vessel. They conveyed their goods 
 to the Floating Bethel for Seamen, moored, as now, 
 in the East River, and concealed their plunder in an 
 unused hatch until they were able to remove it safely. 
 
 The life of a river thief is full of hardship and danger. 
 Apart from his encounters with the police and the 
 crews of vessels, he has to battle with the elements 
 and endure an extraordinary amount of exposure and 
 fatigue. Constant night-work on the water, exposed 
 to wind and storm, snow and ice, will break down the 
 strongest constitution, and the river thief soon passes 
 from the scene of his exploits to the hospital or alms- 
 house, if, indeed, he is fortunate enough to escape the 
 penitentiary. 
 
 Though the professional thieves are so successful 
 in securing plunder, they would be at a loss to dispose 
 of it to advantage were it not for the "Fences" with 
 whom they deal. The " Fence " is simply a dealer in 
 stolen goods, knowing them to be such. He is re- 
 garded by the police as the most important person in 
 the business of stealing, as without his assistance the 
 thieves could not realize upon their plunder. The 
 " Fence " is generally the keeper of a pawnshop or 
 junk store in a part of the city inhabited by the poorer 
 classes. His acquaintance among the professional 
 thieves is extensive. When one thief wishes to com- 
 municate with another whose place of abode is not 
 known to him, he goes at once to the " Fence " to get 
 the desired address, or to leave a message. All plun- 
 der obtained by thieves, such as jewelry, watches, gold 
 and silver ware, costly house ornaments, and articles 
 
THE FENCES. 
 
 523 
 
 of clothing, for which the thieves have no use, and 
 which they cannot keep in their possession without 
 great danger, is brought to the ''Fence" to be dis- 
 posed of. The disposal of stolen property is often 
 attended with as much' risk as the procuring of it, and 
 the " Fence " always demands his full share of the 
 profits for his part in the transaction. The crafty re- 
 ceiver knows very well that the thieves place them- 
 selves in his power when they come to him to dispose 
 of their plunder, and he does not hesitate to drive 
 hard bargains with the less desperate of his customers. 
 A thief frequently gets no more than enough to pay 
 his week's board for stealing a valuable watch. When- 
 ever a burglary is planned by thieves a "Fence" is 
 always consulted, for without some means of hastily 
 removing and disposing of the goods no profit could 
 be gained by the undertaking. It is usual for the 
 " Fence " to provide a wagon, watch the building in 
 which the burglars are at work, and, at a prearranged 
 signal, to drive to the place and carry off the booty. 
 If a clothing house or fur store has been robbed, the 
 articles are at once stripped of their wrappings and 
 so altered in appearance that the owners would find 
 it difficult to identify their property. The " Fences " 
 keep melting pots in their houses, and articles of gold 
 or silver, including the cases of watches in many in- 
 stances, are converted into bars of metal, which can 
 be easily disposed of without detection. Precious 
 stones are removed from their settings, and the gold 
 is either melted, or the marks by which it may be 
 identified are removed by burnishing. The marks on 
 dry-goods and clothing are removed by chemicals or 
 
524 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 fine scissors, and even the trimmings and sometimes 
 the shapes of garments are altered. Every fence 
 store has numerous places in which stolen goods may 
 be safely hidden, and every means is used to baffle 
 the vigilance of the police. Every fence store in the 
 city is known to the authorities, and is under surveil- 
 lance, but in spite of this, so great is the skill of the 
 " Fences " that it is a rare thing that one of them is 
 ever brought to justice. The thieves are not their 
 only customers ; dishonest clerks, porters, and servant 
 girls steal from their employers, and dispose of their 
 plunder to the "Fences." 
 
 The roughs constitute another class of professional 
 criminals. The rough is simply a brutal man, who 
 seems lost to all the better feelings of humanity, and 
 who engages in violence and crime simply for the 
 pleasure it affords him. He is not necessarily a thief, 
 though he often does steal for a living. As a general 
 rule he lives upon the earnings of some woman of ill- 
 fame, and though he beats and maltreats her himself, 
 protects her from injury at the hands of others of his 
 class. His favorite amusement is to attend picnics 
 and celebrations in the suburbs or on board steamers, 
 and to break up the enjoyment of the occasion by beat- 
 ing and robbing the pleasure seekers. At such times 
 gangs of roughs work together, and women and chil- 
 dren, as well as men, are the objects of their brutal 
 violence. The rough is both a bully and a coward. 
 He does not hesitate to commit murder or to outrage 
 a woman, but he does this only when he can act with- 
 out jeopardy to his own safety. He will not engage in 
 « fair fight, and slinks away from real danger. He is 
 
BLACKMAILERS AND THEIR VICTIMS. 
 
 525 
 
 often the proprietor of a panel-house, a policy-office, 
 or a rat- or dog-pit, and his associates are his fellow- 
 roughs, thieves, and prostitutes. He is a politician by 
 nature, and does the dirty work of the " statesmen " 
 w^ho rule in municipal politics. This gives him the 
 only importance he enjoys, and also often saves him 
 from punishment for his crimes. As soon as his mis- 
 deeds bring him into trouble, his political friends exert 
 themselves to save him from punishment, and are gen- 
 erally successful. 
 
 Blackmailers are also classed by the police among 
 the professional criminals. The object of these people 
 is to live at the expense of others more fortunate than 
 themselves, and to acquire the means of doing so by 
 extorting money from them by threats. The black- 
 mailer, though sometimes a man, is generally a woman. 
 The well-known weakness of mankind inclines the 
 community to listen with considerable readiness to 
 charges brought by a woman, and men knowing this 
 are often afraid to offer any resistance to the black- 
 mailer. They fear that the charges will be believed, 
 however they may deny them, and know that at all 
 events they wall produce a scandal ; so they pay the 
 sums demanded of them in the hope of hushing the 
 matter up. Instead of accomplishing this, they simply 
 place themselves in the power of the wretch, whose 
 demands for money increase with every compliance of 
 the victim. Innocent men have been driven to despair 
 and suicide by these wretches. A firm stand at the 
 first, with the assistance of the police, would end all 
 the trouble at the start ; but let a victim once yield, 
 iand he is certain to be bled as long as he will stand it. 
 
526 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Young men about to make rich marriages are the fa- 
 vorite " game " of the female blackmailer, who gener- 
 ally has a thief or a rough as her " backer." She 
 knows, and indeed so does the young man, that any 
 story about a man will find believers. She goes to 
 the intended bridegroom, threatens to denounce him 
 to his fiancee as her destroyer, and demands money as 
 the price of her silence. Although the man knows he 
 is innocent, he dreads the scandal, fears it will break 
 off his marriage, and generally yields to the demand 
 of the wretch. Should he refuse, the woman boldly 
 goes to the young lady, and carries out her threat. 
 This is her revenge, and she is too often successful. 
 
 A description of the arts resorted to by blackmail- 
 ers to extort money from their victims would fill a 
 volume. Their ingenuity and fertility of resource are 
 wonderful. They rarely assail women, as they know 
 the male relatives of a lady so attacked would briiig 
 the police upon them. Men are their victims, and 
 they rely upon their fears for success. 
 
THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION. 527 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 CREEDMOOR. 
 
 TBS NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA — THE CREEDMOOR RANGE — THE GROUHDS 
 — THB TARGETS — SHOOTING MATCHES — NATIONAL GUARD PRACTICE — AMA-^UR MARKS- 
 MEN. 
 
 The rifle range of the National Rifle Association 
 of America is located at Creedmoor, a little village 
 on Long Island, about thirteen miles from New York. 
 The association owns a tract of eighty-five acres of 
 land, enclosed with a substantial fence, and levelled 
 and sodded with turf Buildings for the use of the 
 association and marksmen are erected within the 
 grounds, and at the extreme end of the lawn thirty 
 iron targets are placed, giving any desired range from 
 50 to 1 200 yards. At various intervals are placed a 
 "running deer" target, "a tramp" or "moving man" 
 target, and a " ringing target," in the last of which a 
 bell is rung when the centre is struck. A fine clock- 
 faced wind dial is placed at a conspicuous point to 
 show the marksmen the direction of the wind, and 
 numerous flags and streamers are planted along the 
 range for the same purpose. 
 
 Frequent shooting matches are held at Creedmoor 
 during the year, and draw large crowds from New 
 York, Brooklyn, and the surrounding country. The 
 scene at such times is very brilliant, as the ladies 
 attend the matches in large numbers, and take great 
 
528 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 interest in the sport. All the proceedings are regu- 
 lated by a fixed code of rules, a violation of which 
 subjects the offender to a forfeiture of the privileges 
 
 CRBBDHOOR RIPLB 
 
 of the range. Each regiment of the National Guard 
 of New York and Brooklyn is required to practise at 
 the Creedmoor range several times during the year, 
 
AMATEUR MARKSMEN. 
 
 529 
 
 and prizes are awarded the best marksmen on such 
 occasions. 
 
 The object of the Rifle Association is to improve 
 the skill of its members in the use oi fire-arms. Any 
 person of respectability may enjoy the privileges of 
 the range upon payment of a small sum and compli- 
 ance with the rules. The range is very popular with 
 amateurs, and some of the most skilful shooting in 
 the country may be witnessed here. 
 
530 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 BAR-ROOMS. 
 
 AKRESTS FOR DRUNKENNESS AND DISORDER — NUMBER OF LICENSED BAR-ROOMS — THE DRnOC* 
 ING CAPACITY OF WALL STREET — AMOUNT OF BEER DRANK — THE LARGEST BAR IN TM« 
 WORLD — AN ENORMOUS BUSINESS IN RUM — HIGH RENTS ASKED FOR BAR-ROOMS — THB ALL* 
 NIGHT HOUSES — THE BUCKET-SHOPS — GREAT AMOUNT OF DRUNKENNESS — WOMEN AS 
 DRINKERS — WHERE THEY GET THEIR LIQUOR. 
 
 About 35,000 persons are arrested and brought be- 
 fore the Police Courts of the Metropolis every year 
 for " drunkenness " and " drunkenness and disorder." 
 The Temperance Societies of the city, on the other 
 hand, do not number 20,000 members. The contrast 
 is startling, but becomes even more so when it is re- 
 membered that the persons arrested are only a small 
 part of the vast number who daily pay tribute to the 
 bar-rooms and rum-shops of New York. The Board 
 of Excise licenses 2430 places where liquors are sold 
 by the single glass or drink, or about one bar-room 
 to every six hundred inhabitants of the city. These 
 represent every grade of drinking establishment, from 
 the magnificent Broadway saloon to the " gin-mill " of 
 the Bowery and Sixth avenue, and the " bucket-shops * 
 of Baxter street. All these places enjoy a greater or 
 less degree of prosperity, and the proprietors grow 
 rich, unless they cut short their lives by becoming 
 their own best customers. For alcoholic and malt 
 liquors sold over the bar, hundreds of thousands of 
 dollars are spent daily. It is estimated that in the 
 vicinity of Wall street alone, 7500 drinks are taken 
 
532 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 and 150 bottles of champagne are disposed of every- 
 day. The " bulls and bears " require heavy stimulants 
 to keep them up to their exciting work, and their daily 
 expenditure for such purposes is about ^2500. Prob- 
 ably this may account for some of the queer scenes 
 to be witnessed in the Stock Exchange. 
 
 The quantity of beer consumed in the city is about 
 three times that of whiskey, which is the most common 
 of the alcoholic drinks. The true-blooded German 
 beer drinker will consume from one to two dozen 
 glasses of his favorite beverage in twenty-four hours, 
 and his American and other imitators follow closely 
 in his footsteps. 
 
 The larorest bar in the world is that at the Astor 
 House, which transacts the bulk of its business be- 
 tween the hours of nine a. m., and five p. m. Its receipts 
 average about $700 a day, or nearly ^220,000 a year, 
 Sundays excluded. A popular bar will take in from 
 ^200 to $400 a day, but the majority of the liquor 
 dealers are content with from ^30 to ^50 a day. Some 
 of these places remain open all night, and are filled 
 with dram drinkers at all hours. At the first-class es- 
 tablishments the liquors sold are of good quality, but 
 as the scale is descended the quality of the drinks 
 falls off, until the low-class bar-rooms and bucket- 
 shops are reached, in which the most poisonous com- 
 pounds are sold, under the name of whiskey, brandy, 
 gin, rum, etc. The prices charged are high and the 
 profits are enormous. 
 
 The rents asked for bar-rooms in prominent localities 
 are enormous. There is one man in New York who 
 pays 1 0,000 a year for a small room. His principal 
 
DRUNKENNESS COMMON IN NEW YORK. 533 
 
 trade is in whiskey, which he sells for twenty cents a 
 drink ; for brandy he charges forty cents. 
 
 The bucket-shops are simply rooms located in the 
 poorer sections of the city, where liquors of the vilest 
 kind are sold by the pint, quart, or gallon. Their cus- 
 tomers are the poor and wretched. Only the most 
 deadly poisons are sold here. 
 
 It is impossible to estimate the amount of drunken- 
 ness in New York. The arrests represent but a very 
 small part of it, as thousands of habitual drunkards 
 manage to keep out of the hands of the police. Re- 
 spectable men patronize the bar-rooms regularly, and 
 are constantly seen reeling along the streets. So long 
 as they are not helpless, or guilty of disorderly con- 
 duct, the police do not molest them. Systematic drink- 
 ing, which does not amount to actual intoxication, but 
 kills by slow degrees, is very common. Among the 
 most liberal patrons of the bar-rooms and beer-saloons 
 are young men and even boys, who thoughtlessly be- 
 gin here careers that will one day end in sorrow. 
 
 Drunkenness is by no means confined to men. 
 Women are largely addicted to it. Out of some 32,000 
 arrests in a single year for this cause, nearly i 2,000 
 were females. In the more wretched quarters of the 
 city women drink heavily, and are among the most 
 constant customers of the bucket-shops. Even women 
 of respectability and good social position are guilty of 
 the vice of intemperance. They do not frequent bar- 
 rooms, but obtain liquor at the restaurants patronized 
 by them, and it is a common sight to see a well-dressed 
 woman rise from a restaurant table under the influ- 
 ence of'whiskey or brandy. 
 
534 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 HENRY BERGH. 
 
 THE FRIEND OF THE BRUTE CREATION — ESTABLISHMENT OF THE "SOCIETY FOR THE PRB» 
 VENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS " — WORK OF MR. BERGH — HOW HE BECAME A TERROR 
 TO TWO-LEGGED BRUTES — A NOBLE RECORD. 
 
 One of the most familiar figures upon the streets 
 of New York is that of Henry Bergh, the President 
 of the " Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Ani- 
 mals." Tall, erect, neatly dressed, and with a counte- 
 nance remarkable for its expression of kindness and 
 benevolence, he never fails to attract attention as he 
 passes slowly along, seemingly preoccupied, but keep- 
 ing a keen watch over the dumb creatures along his 
 route, to whose protection he has devoted his life 
 
 Twenty years ago Mr. Bergh came to the conclu- 
 sion that his mission in life was to protect dumb ani- 
 mals from the cruelties practised upon them. He 
 entered upon his self-appointed task with enthusiasm, 
 drew others into the good work, and in 1866 suc- 
 ceeded in organizing the Society of which he is the 
 president. The necessary legislation was carried 
 through the Legislature of New York through the ef- 
 forts of the society, and its officers were empowered 
 to enforce the laws thus enacted. 
 
 Mr. Bergh is fifty-seven years old, and is possessed 
 of ample means. He is devoted to the cause he has 
 espoused, and serves the Society as, its president with- 
 out pay. Since he began his work he has created a 
 
HENRY BERGH. 
 
536 NEW YORK. 
 
 revolution in the treatment of dumb animals in New 
 York. He spends much time on the streets, and his 
 officers are scattered throughout the city, on the watch 
 for cases of cruelty. A brutal driver, engaged in 
 belaboring his horses, is suddenly collared, and look- 
 ing up finds himself in the grasp of Henry Bergh, or 
 one of his officers, and is made to desist from his 
 cruel work. If a wagon is laden too heavily for the 
 poor beast attached to it, the driver is made to lighten 
 his load, or to take the horse out of the shafts. Sick 
 and broken-down or crippled horses are taken from 
 their drivers on the streets, and sent to the hospital 
 of the Society, where they are properly cared for. Mn 
 Bergh has made himself a terror to the brutal drivers 
 who once disgraced the city. Nor does he confine 
 his good work to the streets. At the most unex- 
 pected times he will make a descent upon some 
 wretched stable, where a suffering horse is being kept 
 without proper care, and rescue the poor animal. The 
 cruel owners of horseflesh have learned that it is use- 
 less to resist or to argue with him. He has the law 
 at his back, and can summon the police to his assist- 
 ance if need be. In aggravated cases he does not 
 stop with relieving a tortured animal, but causes the 
 arrest and punishment of the perpetrator of the 
 cruelty. He is a sworn foe to dog and cock fights,, 
 and visits his heaviest wrath upon the persons en- 
 gaged in such brutalism. 
 
 At first Mr. Bergh met with much opposition and 
 considerable ridicule in his efforts to carry on his good 
 work, but he has conquered both, and has gained the 
 firm support of the best classes of the community. 
 
A GRAND WORK. 537 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE EAST RIVER BRIDGE. 
 
 tRAVEL AND TRAFFIC BETV\^EN NEW YORK AND BROOKLYN— THE FERRIES — PLANS FOR A 
 BRIDGE— THE WORK BEGUN— THE GREAT BRIDGE— THE TOWERS— THE BRIDGE PROPBR 
 —THE CENTRAL SPAN— THE CABLES— THE ANCHORAGES— THE APPROACHES— PLANS FOK 
 TRAVEL ACROSS THE BRIDGE. 
 
 To all intents and purposes New York and Brook- 
 lyn form one metropolis, and the day is not far distant 
 when the two cities will be united under a single cor- 
 porate government. The intercourse "between them 
 is constant and steadily increasing. iVbout eighty 
 millions of people annually cross the East River, and 
 for many years the ferries have been utterly inade- 
 quate to the demand upon them. The boats are 
 always crowded, and when the river is filled with 
 ice or shrouded in fog, the passage between the two 
 cities is more dangerous than a voyage across the 
 Atlantic. 
 
 The necessity for providing a better, safer, and 
 more regular communication between the two cities 
 led a number of capitalists, some years ago, to con- 
 ceive the plan of bridging the East River at a conven- 
 ient point, and after much discussion a company was 
 formed for that purpose. A charter was obtained 
 from the Legislature of the State, and the necessary 
 capital subscribed, the cities of New York and Brook- 
 lyn each assuming a certain proportion of the cost of 
 the undertaking. It was determined that the struct- 
 ure should be a suspension bridge, and work was 
 
 t 
 
» 
 
DESCRIPTION OF THE FRIDGE. 539 
 
 begun upon it in 1871. The bridge is swung from two 
 massive towers of granite, each of which rests upon a 
 caisson sunk to the soHd rock, which, on the New 
 York side, is from 82 to 92, and on the Brooklyn side 
 45 feet below the surface of the water. The towers 
 erected upon this foundation are 136 feet in length by 
 56 feet in width at the water-line, and rise to a height 
 of 238 feet above the river at high water. They 
 gradually diminish in size as they ascend, until at the 
 cornice they are i 20 feet in length by 40 feet in width,, 
 They are constructed of massive masonry, are pierced 
 with two archways each, and rise high above the twin 
 cities, forming the most conspicuous objects in any 
 view of them from the East or North Rivers. The 
 New York tower is located on the river shore near 
 the foot of Roosevelt street, and the Brooklyn tower 
 is just north of the Fulton Ferry house. The New 
 York terminus of the bridge is in Chatham street, 
 immediately below the City Hall Station of the Ele- 
 vated Railway, and the Brooklyn terminus is in the 
 square bounded by Fulton, Prospect, Washington, and 
 Sands streets. 
 
 The bridge is divided into five parts : the central 
 span over the river between the towers, 1,595 feet 
 long ; a span on each side from the tower to the an- 
 chorage, 940 feet in length ; and the approaches — 
 from the termini to the anchorages — the New York 
 approach being 1,336 feet long, and the Brooklyn 
 approach 836 feet long. The entire structure is 6,000 
 ^eet in length, and 85 feet in width, and includes a 
 promenade of 13 feet, two railroad tracks, and four 
 wagon or horse-car tracks. Four immense cables of 
 
540 » NEW YORK. 
 
 Steel wire, each i6 inches in diameter, pass from the 
 anchorages over the towers, and from these cables are 
 suspended the supporting wires which sustain the 
 floor of the bridge. The deflection of the cables is 
 128 feet. Stays run from the cables and floor of the 
 bridge to the towers to prevent the swinging of the 
 structure, and enable it to resist the force of the 
 heaviest gales. The centre of the floor of the bridge 
 is 135 feet above high water. 
 
 At a distance of 940 feet back from the towers are 
 placed the anchorages, which are constructed of mas- 
 sive masonry in the most substantial manner. After 
 passing over the towers each of the four cables enters 
 the anchor walls at an elevation of nearly 80 feet 
 above high water, and, after passing through the ma- 
 .sonry for a distance of 20 feet, is firmly secured by 
 powerful anchor chains. The cables support the floor 
 of the bridge from the towers to the anchorages in 
 the same manner as in the central span, this portion 
 of the bridge passing over the tops of the houses un- 
 derneath. 
 
 The approaches extend from the terminus of the 
 bridge on each side to the anchorages, and are sup- 
 ported by iron girders and trusses, which rest at short 
 intervals on piers of masonry, or iron columns, built 
 within the blocks crossed and occupied. The streets 
 are crossed by stone arches, at an elevation sufficient 
 to leave them unobstructed. 
 
 The bridge was thrown open to the public for the 
 first time on May 24, 1883. Both cities were pro- 
 fusely decorated. 
 
 The procession which started from the City Hall, 
 
OPENING OF THE BRIDGE. 
 
 Brooklyn, was led by Mayor Low and President 
 Dimon, of the Common Council, followed by the city 
 and State officials, the Brooklyn trustees of the bridge, 
 Commodore Upshur and staff, and General Hancock 
 and staff. There were also in line two detachments 
 of United States troops. Mayor Low and the city 
 officials stopped in the Brooklyn tower, while the 
 United States troops moved across to await the Pres- 
 ident. In New York the Seventh regiment acted as 
 military escort to the President and other distinguished 
 g^uests. 
 
 William C. Kingsley, chief of the bridge trustees, 
 awaited the party at the foot of the stairs. President 
 Arthur and Mr. Kingsley walked together, followed 
 by Mayor Edson and Secretary Folger, and the rest 
 of the trustees and State officials. At the Brooklyn 
 tower they were met by Mayor Low and the Brooklyn 
 officials, and from there proceeded to Sands street 
 station, where the opening ceremonies were held. 
 
 Lines of horse and steam cars traverse the bridge, 
 taking up passengers at the City Hall in New York, 
 and setting them down at the City Hall in Brooklyn, 
 and vice versa. In this way the passage of the river 
 is made safely and speedily, and the passengers 
 enabled to enjoy a grand view of the two cities and 
 the neighboring waters. 
 
 The bridge will undoubtedly prove a profitable en- 
 terprise, as it will enjoy an enormous patronage, which 
 will increase from year to year. 
 
NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 GAMBLERS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 lAWS AGAINST GAMBLING— NUMBER OF GAMBLERS IN THE CITY— THE FARO BANKS— FIRST. 
 
 CLASS ESTABLISHMENTS — SPLENDID VICE — THE BROADWAY HELLS — THE SKIN GAME 
 
 DANGERS OF SUCH PLACES — THE DAY HOUSES — POOL-SELLING — TRICKS OF POOL-SELLERS 
 — LOTTERIES — HOW THEY ARE CONDUCTED — POLICY DEALING — AN INSIDE VIEW OF THB 
 GAME. 
 
 The statutes of the State of New York denounce 
 severe penalties against gambUng and gamblers, yet 
 games of chance flourish in the Metropolis to a greater 
 extent than in any other place in the United States 
 east of the Rocky Mountains. There are said to be 
 about 200 gambling houses in New York, and about 
 2,500 persons known to the police as professional 
 gamblers, dealers in policy, and lottery agents. Of 
 late years the laws against gambling have been en~ 
 forced more rigidly than formerly, and the number of 
 professional gamblers has somewhat diminished. Yet 
 there are still enough of them to make their business 
 a very marked feature of Metropolitan life. 
 
 At the head of the gambling fraternity are the faro 
 dealers. This game is too well known to the average 
 American to need a description here, and is very 
 popular in this country because of its supposed fair- 
 ness. There are between 90 and 100 faro banks in 
 the city, some of which are palatial establishments. 
 The finest of these are situated on Broadway and in 
 the cross streets in the neighborhood of the up-town 
 fashionable hotels. Outwardly they appear to be 
 
FIRST-CLASS GAMBLING HOUSES. 54S 
 
 simply private dwellings, but they have a silent, de- 
 serted air during the day, giving no signs of family 
 life. The blinds are kept down, and only men are 
 seen to enter and leave the houses. They are fur- 
 nished with great magnificence ; the ceilings are elab- 
 orately frescoed, and costly paintings adorn the walls ; 
 the softest carpets cover the floors ; the most costly 
 furniture fills the apartments ; and superb chandeliers 
 hang from the ceilings and shed a brilliant glow 
 through the rooms. The servants are colored, and 
 the attendance is all that could be desired. Delicious 
 suppers are spread nightly for the guests, and rare 
 old wines and liquors are at the command of all who 
 honor the place with their presence. In the various 
 rooms of the house are all the conveniences for gam- 
 ing. No one is asked to play, but it is understood 
 that all who partake of the proprietor s hospitality are 
 expected to make some return by risking something 
 at the tables. In the best houses the games are gen- 
 erally fair, the proprietor trusting to the chances of 
 the game, which are nearly all in favor of the bank 
 and the skill of the dealer. Great care is exercised in 
 the admission of visitors. The proprietors of these 
 places discourage the visits of young men ; they pre- 
 fer the company of men of means who have some- 
 thing to lose. The guests are prominent men in the 
 country, as a rule, lawyers, judges, professional men 
 of all kinds, brokers, and the like. Members of Con- 
 gress and State Legislatures, and public men gener- 
 ally, are among the most constant visitors to the first- 
 class gambling houses. Poker is largely played in the 
 private rooms of these establishments. 
 
544 ' NEW YORK. 
 
 The second-class houses, or "hells," lie principally 
 along Broadway and prominent streets leading from 
 it. The visitors to these establishments are chiefly 
 
 SCENE IN A BROADWAY GAMBLING HELL. 
 
 Strangers in the city, who are lured, or " roped," into 
 them by agents of the proprietors. Faro is the prin- 
 cipal game here, but fair games are unknown except 
 
" SKIN FARO." • 
 
 545 
 
 among the professionals who frequent the place. The 
 '* skin game " is used with the majority of the visitors, 
 for the proprietor is determined from the outset to 
 fleece them without mercy. In these places everything 
 pertainir^ to gaming is boldly displayed — chips, cards, 
 faro boxes, roulette wheels, handsome gaming tables, 
 and side-boards containing fine brands of liquors and 
 cigars. The entrances to the houses are carefully 
 guarded, the doors are secured by heavy bolts and 
 bars, and numerous sliding panels afford every oppor- 
 tunity for inspecting the visitor before his final admis- 
 sion to the rooms. Though roulette is frequently 
 played in these establishments, faro, as we have said, 
 is the principal game. It is simpler than roulette, 
 gives a heavy percentage in favor of the bank, and 
 "skin faro," the only game played here, offers no 
 chance whatever to the player. In " skin faro " the 
 dealer can take two cards from the box instead of one, 
 whenever he chooses to do so. The box is so ar- 
 ranged that the dealer can press on a lever within the 
 box in the right-hand corner. When this is pressed 
 upon, the mouth of the box is opened, so as to allow 
 two cards to slip out at once. The cards being 
 " sanded," stick close together, and the player cannot 
 perceive that there are two. On the withdrawal of 
 the pressure from the lever the mouth of the box is 
 closed by a spring, so that only one card can slip out. 
 There are some boxes made, called " sanded boxes," 
 by the use of which the dealer can press on the end 
 of the box and take out two cards, still keeping his 
 fingers in the natural position, instead of being obliged 
 to reach inside of the box in order to press the lever. 
 35 
 
546 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 No tally IS kept of these games, and the player is un- 
 able to tell how many cards have been dealt out. 
 Should he discover the trick, it is highly dangerous to 
 attempt to expose it, as nearly all the persons present 
 are in league with the bank, and are united in the 
 effort to get possession of the visitor's money. The 
 safest plan is to bear the loss and get out of the place 
 as soon as possible, as the men present will not hesi- 
 tate to provoke a quarrel with or assault a stranger 
 who disputes the fairness of the game. A quarrel 
 once started, every advantage is taken of the player, 
 and .his life is not worth a farthing. The safest plan 
 of all is to remain away from these hells. The man 
 who enters any gaming-house in New York, especially 
 a stranger in the city, is a fool, and deserves to lose 
 his money. He who ventures into one of these second- 
 class houses, risks not only his money, but his life. 
 However wise a man may be in his own conceit, how- 
 ever he may rank as an oracle in his distant home, 
 however brave, resolute, or skilful he may be, he is 
 no match for a New York gambler. In nine houses 
 out of ten his life is in danger unless he submits quietly 
 to be robbed in the most barefaced manner. 
 
 The up-town houses conduct their operations prin- 
 cipally by night. The "Day Houses" are down-town 
 institutions. Ann street, in the rear of the Herald 
 office, and several streets adjacent or convenient to 
 Wall street, are the principal neighborhoods infested 
 with them. Not long since a single block in Ann 
 street contained five of these housed, and the majority, 
 though several times raided by the police, still con- 
 tinue to flourish. The "Day Houses" occupy the 
 
DAY GAMELING HOUSES. 
 
 547 
 
 upper floors of buildings, the street floors of which 
 are devoted to legitimate business, and claim to be 
 Club Houses." They are managed by the lowest 
 class of gamblers, skin games only are played in 
 
 LOW-CLASS GAMBLING DEN. 
 
 them, and the players have no possible chance of suc- 
 cess. Yet they manage to do a profitable business. 
 Their visitors are Wall street brokers, clerks, sales- 
 men, and men in regular business, who too often risk 
 here money that is not their own. 
 
548 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 One of the worst and most demoralizing forms of 
 gambling is " pool selling." The pool business is 
 conducted more or less openly, notwithstanding that 
 the laws of the State denounce severe punishments 
 against it. The business is conducted by professional 
 gamblers, and, though seemingly fair, is a swindle 
 throughout. Pools are sold on horse-races, prize- 
 fights, boat-races, swimming matches, political elec- 
 tions, and in short on every conceivable contest into 
 which the element of chance or doubt enters. The pool 
 is supposed to be made up of a fixed number of chances, 
 each of which is sold at a certain price. The man- 
 agers charge a percentage or commission on all tick- 
 ets sold, and do not hesitate to sell as many as there 
 are applicants for, even though the legitimate number 
 is exceeded by such sales. It is said that on a recent 
 presidential election as much as ^2,000,000 was staked 
 in pools. The commission on the sales charged by 
 the proprietors of the pool rooms is from three to five 
 per cent, and a certain well-known manager is said 
 to have realized $60,000 from his commissions on the 
 election mentioned above. A favorite trick is to 
 receive the money invested in pools, and then spread 
 reports which shall discourage the betters, and induce 
 them to withdraw thqir bets. The managers return 
 the amounts invested, minus their commission, which 
 they retain, and in this way, while seeming to act with 
 perfect fairness, fill their coffers at the expense of 
 their victims. 
 
 The great evil of pool " gambling is that it encour- 
 ages young men and boys to enter into the combina- 
 tions, and thus gives them a taste for gambling. The 
 
POOL GAMBLING. 
 
 549 
 
 possibility of winning considerable money by small 
 investments fascinates them. During a recent politi- 
 cal campaign officers of two of the largest banks in the 
 city called upon the Police Commissioners, and stated 
 that they suspected that many of their clerks visited 
 the pool rooms. They feared that the excitement 
 and allurements of gambling might impair the integ- 
 rity of these young men, and induce them to appro- 
 priate money belonging to the banks. Detectives 
 were employed, and the suspicions of the bank offi- 
 cers were confirmed. Business men are constantly 
 finding that their clerks and salesmen are regular vis- 
 itors to the pool rooms. Messenger boys, bootblacks, 
 and others who earn only a few dollars a week, invest 
 all the money they can get hold of in buying pool 
 ti(!kets. Men of the highest respectability fall victims 
 to the same vice, and the evil goes on increasing. The 
 only persons who profit by it are the managers of the 
 pools, who do not hesitate to resort to any trick to 
 retain the money entrusted to them, and who coolly 
 swindle their infatuated dupes out of their invest- 
 ments. 
 
 Another vicious form of gambling is the lottery bus- 
 iness, closely connected with which is " policy dealing." 
 Lotteries are of two kinds — the single number system, 
 and the combination system. In the former, as many 
 single numbers as there are tickets in the scheme, are 
 placed in a wheel, and are drawn out in regular order. 
 The first number drawn wins the capital prize, and s® 
 on until as many numbers are drawn as there are 
 prizes. In the combination system, seventy-five num- 
 bers are generally placed in the wheel, and from these 
 
550 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 a certain set of numbers are drawn, according to the 
 provision of the scheme. The chances are much 
 greater against the ticket-holders in this system than 
 in the single number schemes, as, in order for a player 
 to win a prize, the various numbers must be drawn in 
 the exact order represented on his ticket. 
 
 It is, of course, possible for a lottery to be fairly 
 drawn, but it is a well-known fact that in the majority 
 of the schemes advertised no drazviiig of any kind ever 
 takes place. A bogus drawing is published, and, though 
 prizes are assigned, not a single ticket holder ever re- 
 ceives one. Even if the drawing is fair, the business 
 is to be denounced on the ground that it is not only 
 illegal, but demoralizing. The purchasers of lottery 
 tickets are, as a rule, persons unable to afford the ex- 
 penditure — generally the very poor. This species of 
 gambling has a fascination which holds its votaries 
 with a grip of iron. They venture again and again, 
 winning nothing, but hoping for better luck next time, 
 and so continue until they have lost their all. There 
 are hundreds of well-authenticated cases of men and 
 -women being reduced to beggary, despair, and suicide 
 by lottery gambling. ■* 
 
 The managers of the various lottery schemes are 
 professional gamblers. They are without principle, 
 and do not intend to pay any prizes to ticket-holders. 
 They receive their money of their dupes, announce a 
 bogus drawing, in which no prizes can be found by 
 any ticket-holder, and then coolly ask their victims to 
 try their luck again. 
 
 Policy dealing is one degree lower in infamy than 
 the lottery business. There are about 400 policy shops 
 
•9 
 
 POLICY PLAYING. 551 
 
 in the city, whose principal customers are negroes, 
 sailors, and foreigners. The mazes of policy are not 
 well known to the general public. Few games are so 
 well devised for a sure loss to the player, even when 
 honestly played, and the more influential sellers make 
 this assurance doubly sure by playing to suit them- 
 selves. The game consists in betting on certain num- 
 bers, within the range of the lottery schemes, being 
 drawn at the noon or night drawing. Seventy-eight 
 numbers usually make up the lottery scheme, and the 
 policy player can take any three of these numbers and 
 bet that they will be drawn, either singly, or in such 
 combinations as he may select. The single numbers 
 may come out anywhere in the drawing, but the com- 
 bination must appear as he writes it in making his bet. 
 He pays one dollar for the privilege of betting, and re- 
 ceives a written slip containing the number gr numbers 
 on which he bets. If a single number is chosen and 
 drawn, he wins $5; two numbers constitute a ''saddle/' 
 and if both are drawn the player wins from ^24 to $32 ; 
 three numbers make a "gig," and win from $150 to 
 $225; four numbers make a "horse," and win $640. 
 A "capital straddle" is a bet that two numbers will be 
 among the first three drawn, and wins $500. The 
 player may take any number of " saddles," "gigs," or 
 "horses," paying ^i for each bet. 
 
 Now, all this seems very fair ; but the policy man- 
 agers are equal to the emergency. As soon as they 
 receive the drawings, if they find that too many 
 players are likely to win, they change the order of the 
 numbers, or the numbers themselves, and thus con- 
 demn the players to a total loss. These altered num- 
 
552 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 bers are printed on slips at a central office in Vesey 
 street, and are distributed to the various policy shops. 
 In some cases, after these copies have been sent out, 
 it is discovered that the players have even then won 
 too much to suit the managers. The copies are im- 
 mediately recalled as misprints, and new copies altered 
 to suit the managers are distributed. 
 
 All sorts of people engage in this wretched game, 
 blacks and whites, rich and poor. The grossest super- 
 stitions are indulged in respecting " lucky numbers." 
 Such numbers are revealed by dreams, which are in- 
 terpreted by " dream-books." To dream of a man is 
 one of a woman five ; " of both " fifteen," and so 
 on. A large publishing house in the lower part of 
 the city sells thousands of copies of the " dream-book " 
 every year, and among its purchasers are said to be 
 many shrewd operators in Wall street. So great is 
 the rage for policy playing that men and women be- 
 come insane over it. The lunatic asylums contain 
 many patients who have been brought there by this 
 species of gambling. 
 
UNDER THE HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 553 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE HUDSON RIVER TUNNEL. 
 
 A DARTNG UNDERTAKING — THE WORK BEGUN — ACCIDENTS — DESCRIPTION OF THE TUNNBLS— 
 THE PROPOSED DEPOT IN NEW YORK — PROSPECTS OF THE SCHEME. 
 
 One of the most daring undertakings ever attempted 
 by modern engineers is now in progress. This is the 
 construction of the great tunnel under the Hudson 
 River, the object of which is to unite the city of New 
 York with Jersey City, and to allow the railways now 
 terminating in the latter place to enter the Metropolis. 
 
 This orreat work is to consist of two tunnels laid 
 side by side, each i8 feet wide and i6 feet high. 
 Work was begun on the Jersey City side, at the foot 
 of Fifteenth street, on the ist of November. 1879. 
 The engineers began by sinking a well, 30 feet in di- 
 ameter, about 100 feet inland from the river. This 
 was securely walled with brickwork and shod with 
 wedge-shaped steel at the bottom. When a depth 
 of 60 feet had been gained, the solid bottom w^hich 
 was found was floored with Roman cement, and the 
 work of boring the tunnel under the bed of the river 
 was begun, and in spite of several accidents, in one 
 of which, on the 21st of July, 1880, 20 men were killed, 
 has been pushed forward steadily. 
 
 The tunnels will start from the foot of Fifteenth 
 street, in Jersey City, and when finished will extend 
 in a straight line from Pier No. 9, Jersey City, to Pier 
 
554 NEW YORK. 
 
 No. 42, at the foot of Morton street, New York. The 
 distance between the two points is a little over one 
 mile, but with the approaches the entire length of the 
 tunnels will be about two and a half miles. The tun- 
 
 THE TtrNNEL UNDER THE HUDSON RIVBR. 
 
 nels will adjoin each other, but will be separate and 
 distinct pieces of workmanship, unitiog, however, under 
 the grand arches at the working shaft on either side 
 of the river. Each will consist of an immense tube of 
 brick-work, two feet thick, laid in Roman cement, irtv- 
 
FUTURE OF THE TUNNEL. 
 
 555 
 
 pervious to water, and capable of withstanding any 
 pressure upon it. A single railroad track will be laid 
 in each, and as one of them will be used for trains 
 entering, and the other for trains leaving New York, 
 collisions can never occur. At the lowest point the 
 tracks will be about 60 feet below mean tide. At no 
 point will there be less than twenty feet of earth be- 
 tween the crown of the tunnels and the bed of the 
 river. It is expected that the different railways enter- 
 ing Jersey City will use the tunnels and land their 
 passengers, directly in New York City, the depot be^ 
 ing probably located somewhere near Broadway and 
 Bleecker street. Several years will be required for 
 the completion of this great work, but its projectors 
 regard its success as assured, and confidently expect 
 that it will effect a complete revolution in the system 
 of travel between New York and the New Jersey 
 shore. 
 
556 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 FASHIONABLE SHOPPING. 
 
 FASHIONABLE STORES — HANDSOME GOODS — THE FIXED-PRICE SYSTEM — DETECTIVES ON THS 
 
 WATCH — " Stewart's " —ENORMOUS transactions there. 
 
 The fashionable stores of New York are to be 
 found principally on Broadway, Fifth and Sixth ave- 
 nues, and Fourteenth and Twenty-third streets. They 
 embrace dry-goods, millinery, jewelry, fur, clothing, 
 shoe, and other stores, and their customers consist 
 almost entirely of ladies. They are fitted up elegantly, 
 and contain the finest and most varied stocks of goods 
 to be found anywhere in the world. In almost all 
 these establishments the prices are written in plain 
 figures on the articles, and the clerks are not allowed 
 to deviate from them. Elevators connect the various 
 floors, and convey purchasers from story to story, thus 
 saving them the fatigue of climbing the stairs. Each 
 fioor is in charge of a manager, who directs customers 
 to the counters where the goods they wish to pur- 
 chase are sold. No one is urged to buy, but all the 
 goods are readily shown to those who desire to exam- 
 ine them. Articles purchased are promptly forwarded 
 to the residences of buyers, and every effort is made 
 to render the task of shopping pleasant. All the while 
 the customers are under the constant but unseen sur- 
 veillance of detectives, and so perfect is this system 
 that shoplifting is rare. 
 
 The principal retail firms possess large and magnif- 
 
558 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 icent buildings, which are among the chief ornaments 
 of the city. The rriost imposing of these are the 
 buildings of A. T. Stewart & Co., the Domestic Sew- 
 ing-Machine Company, Arnold, Constable & Co., 
 Lord & Taylor, and Tiffany & Co., the last being the 
 principal jewelry house of the country. 
 
 Stewart's is the best-known establishment in New 
 York. The building is a handsome iron structure five 
 stories in height, and occupies an entire block, as has 
 been described. The first floor is devoted to the sale 
 of miscellaneous goods, each class having its separate 
 department. It is generally thronged with buyers, 
 and presents a busy scene. It contains loo counters, 
 the aggregate length of which is 5000 feet. The sec- 
 ond floor is for the sale of ready-made clothing, suits 
 for ladies, furs, upholste»-y, &c. ; the third floor is 
 devoted to carpets ; and the other flqors to the work 
 rooms of the establishment. The number of superin- 
 tendents, salesmen, and other persons employed in 
 selling and handling goods is about 1 700. The busi- 
 ness transacted is enormous, and averages about 
 $60,000, and has reached as high as $87,000, a day. 
 The greater part of the sales is made between noon 
 and five o^clock p. m., and between those hours the 
 vast store is thronged. Everything that can be 
 desired in the way of dry-goods, millinery, furnishing 
 goods, and the like, is to be found here. The sales 
 of silk amount to about $1 5,000 daily ; dress goods to 
 $6000; laces to $2000; shawls to $2500; velvets to 
 $2000; gloves to $1000; hosiery to $600; embroid- 
 eries to $1000; carpets to $5500; and other goods 
 in proportion. 
 
OVERCROWDING OF THE CITY 
 
 5dd 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 TENEMENT HOUSES. 
 
 DENSITY OF lOPULATlON IN NEW YORK — NUMBER OF TENEMENT HOUSES AND INHABITANTS 
 — CAUSBS OF LIVING IN TENEMENT HOUSES — HIGH RENTS — HOMES OF THE WORKING 
 CLASS — HOPES FOR THE FUTURE — VARIETIES OF TENEMENT HOUSES — A SPECIMEN — CLOSB 
 PACKING — RENTS OF APARTMENTS — EVILS OF THE SYSTEM. 
 
 The immense population of New York, and the 
 scarcity of house room in the thickly settled portions 
 of the city, have given rise to a system of dwellings 
 fortunately unknown in other cities of the country. 
 These are known as tenement houses, and are simply 
 vast barracks, inhabited by from two to twent}- or 
 more families. The average number of families to a 
 house of this kind is eight. The city contains 20,000 
 tenement houses, inhabited by about 500,000 people, 
 giving an average of 2 5 persons to each house. Some 
 of these buildings are very small, however, and con- 
 tain only two or three families, while the vast rooker- 
 ies of the most densely populated wards contain from 
 a dozen to twenty-five or thirty families. In one of 
 the wards of the city the population is over 290,000 
 persons to the square mile, and in several it is nearly 
 200,000 to the square mile. About one-half of the 
 people of the Metropolis live in these houses, and the 
 crowding of such establishments is something that 
 must be witnessed to be appreciated. 
 
 Nor is this crowding of the population the result 
 of poverty. Land is so valuable that rents are enor- 
 mously high. But few persons can afford the luxury 
 
660 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 of a separate house, and workingmen, with famiUes 
 dependent upon them, cannot think of having their 
 own estabhshments. They must be content to share 
 a house with several famiHes, and therefore confine 
 their establishments to a few rooms. They are com- 
 pelled to live within easy reach of their places of em- 
 ployment, and therefore are obliged to take up their 
 quarters in the most thickly settled portions of the 
 city. Men earning handsome wages are compelled 
 to live in these vast barracks, because the rent of a 
 single house ranges from $1000 upwards. It is hoped 
 that the Elevated Railroads, which afford rapid transit 
 between the upper and lower sections of the city, will 
 enable the better class of working people to possess 
 homes of their own in the Harlem district and on the 
 mainland, where rents are not so high, and so thin out 
 the tenement-house population. 
 
 The city contains two classes of tenement houses. 
 Those of the first class are occupied by well-to-do 
 working people ; those of the second by the very 
 poor. The first are large, neat-looking structures, 
 and are kept as clean as the great number of people 
 occupying them will permit ; the second are wretched 
 abodes of misery, and often of vice and crime. The 
 better class tenement houses are constructed for the 
 purposes to which they are put; the second class are 
 simply buildings intended originally for a single family, 
 but now occupied by as many as they will contain. 
 These houses are very profitable to their owners, and 
 some of them pay as much as thirty .per cent, on the 
 money invested in them. Some of the central wards 
 of the city contain whole squares, and, indeed, many 
 
A SPECIMEN TENEMENT HOUSE. 
 
 561 
 
 consecutive squares, built up with houses of this kind. 
 One of these, which is but a specimen of many, has 
 a frontage of 50 feet and a depth of 250 feet. On 
 each side of it is an alleyway running the whole length 
 of the building, excavated to the level of the cellar, 
 and arched over on a level with the street, with grat- 
 ings in the flags with which it is paved to admit light 
 and air to the vaults below. In these vaults are placed 
 the water-closets of the house, which are drained into 
 the street sewers. The water-closets are without doors, 
 and the vapors and gases from them rise through the 
 gratings into the alleyways above, and thence find 
 their way into the house. The building is five stories 
 in height, and has a fiat roof. The v/indows on the 
 sides open into the alleys and receive the poisonous 
 gases which arise from them. Water is laid on each 
 fioor. The apartments for a family consist of a kitchen, 
 which is also the living, or sitting-room, and one or 
 more bed-rooms. The rooms are dark, badly venti- 
 lated, and into the most of them the sun never shines. 
 The house contains 126 families, and has a population 
 of 700 souls. As may be supposed, it is dirty, and 
 full of bad smells. In the winter time it is close and 
 unhealthy, and in the summer the heat of so many 
 cooking-stoves renders it almost unbearable. What 
 life is in one of these houses the reader can easily 
 imagine. Yet each family pays for its apartment an 
 annual rental which, in Baltimore, Philadelphia, and 
 other cities of the country, would secure it a separate 
 and comfortable house. From $10 to $30 a month is 
 the average rental of a suite of rooms in a tenement 
 house. The building; we have described is not an ex- 
 
562 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 ception to the general rule. The city contains whole 
 blocks of such structures. There are many single 
 blocks containing more people than some of our most 
 thriving towns. The Fourth Ward, covering an area 
 of 83 acres, contains 21,015 inhabitants; the Eleventh, 
 with an area of 196 acres, has 68,779 inhabitants; the 
 Seventh, with an area of no acres, contains 50,066 
 inhabitants; and the Seventeenth, with an area of 331 
 acres, contains 104,895 inhabitants. In 1880, the fol- 
 lowing cities contained populations as follows : Provi- 
 dence, R. I., 104,760; Richmond, Va., 63,243; Colum- 
 bus, Ohio, 51,650; Hartford, Conn., 42,560; Taunton, 
 Mass., 21,252; and Elmira, N. Y., 20,646. By con- 
 trasting the area of these cities with that of the wards 
 named above, the reader will be able to form some 
 idea of the terrible overcrowding of this portion of 
 New York. 
 
 The tenement houses being so greatly overcrowded, 
 it is impossible to keep them clean, and the majority of 
 them are in bad repair. The mortality of these houses 
 is fearful. In the summer season they are hot-beds of 
 disease, and children die in them at a fearful rate. It 
 is impossible for the authorities to enforce sanitary 
 regulations in these buildings, and in spite of every 
 effort on the part of the Board of Health to check 
 the evil, the death-rate continues fearfully high. 
 
 The overcrowding of the tenement houses renders 
 them nurseries of vice and crime. Children of all 
 kinds are thrown together, and learn vicious ways, 
 which develop as they grow older into worse traits. 
 Privacy is impossible, and the various families may be 
 said to Hve almost in common. 
 
THE HOME OF VICE AND CRIME, 
 
 563 
 
 CHAPTER XLIIL 
 
 JERRY McAULEY's MISSION. 
 
 VMn tTMBF— THB HISSIOK— ITS SUCCESS— JERRY k'aUI.sY— THB RBFORMCD THTKV— lOHL 
 M'AUJ^— THB PRAYBR-MEBTINGS— THB AUDIHNCK— JERRY U'AXTLBY'S UBTUOOSf— A 
 SCBNB AT A PRAYBR-MEBTING — A WONDERFUL WORK. 
 
 In one of the vilest sections of Water street, right 
 under the shadow of the anchorage of the great East 
 River Bridge, is a substantial but modest-looking,' 
 brick building, known as "316 Water street." Over 
 the door hangs a lantern bearing the inscription, 
 ''Jerry McAuley's Prayer- Meetings." When the 
 shades of night come on, and the rays of the lantern 
 shine out, revealing the legend inscribed upon it, they 
 illuminate a region full of vice, crime, and suffering. 
 The street is lined with long rows of rum-shops, rat- 
 pits, low-down gambling dens, and thieves' dives of 
 the worst description. Here and there are dance- 
 houses, brilliantly lighted, and ornamented with gaudy 
 transparencies. Strains of music float out into the 
 night air, and about the doors and along the side- 
 walks stand groups of hideous women, waiting to 
 entice sailors into these hells, where they are made 
 drunk with drugged liquors, robbed of their money 
 and valuables, and turned helpless into the streets. 
 Groups of drunken and foul-mouthed men and boys 
 lounge about the street, bandying vile jests with the 
 •women, and often insulting respectable passers-by. 
 High over all this sea of wretchedness and sin, Jerry 
 
5(:4 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 McAuley's lantern shines out like a beacon light, the 
 only sign of cheer and hope to be seen. If you listen 
 you will hear, sounds of music in this building also, 
 but the strains are of praise and thanksg'ving--strange 
 sounds to be heard in such a neighborhood.' 
 
 Some years ago a wretched frame building, that 
 
 JERRY m'auLEY. 
 
 had long been used for the vilest purposes, occupied 
 the site of the present edifice. It had been for many 
 years notorious as a dance-house and rum-shop, and 
 was a terror to the neighborhood and a marked house 
 to the police. Great was the surprise of Water street, 
 therefore, when, one night in October, 1872, the place. 
 
THE REFORMED RIVER PIRATE. 
 
 565 
 
 after having been closed for a short time, was opened ^ 
 as a Christian mission, and devoted to saving- the 
 drunken and sinful dwellers in this section of the city. 
 Greater still was the surprise when it was announced 
 that the Mission was to be conducted by Jerry McAu- 
 ley and his wife. The work was slow at first, but it 
 prospered, and at length assumed such proportions 
 that the old building was found inadequate to the pur- 
 poses of the Mission, and, in 1876, was torn down 
 and the present edifice erected in its place. 
 
 The surprise of Water street at seeing Jerry McAu- 
 ley and his wife in its midst in the guise of missionaries 
 was not unnatural. Jerry was a tall,, strapping Irish- 
 man, and had been for years one of the most notori- 
 ous roughs in the city. He was a river thief by pro- 
 fession, and a habitual drunkard. He had committed 
 every crime except that of murder, and for years had 
 been the terror of Water street. At last he was 
 arrested for one of his numerous offences, and was 
 sentenced to a term in Sing Sing prison. While there 
 he began to reflect upon his past life, experienced a 
 change of heart, and embraced religion. Upon being 
 released from prison, he returned to New York, and 
 sought out the woman who had for a number of years 
 lived with him, and been his partner in sin and crime. 
 They were married, and began to devote themselves 
 to the work of saving the souls of the wretched crea- 
 tures among whom their lot had been formerly cast. 
 The change in both was simply miraculous. They 
 took the old dance-house in Water street, made it as 
 neat as their means would admit, and then began 
 their good work. Their meetings were well attended ; 
 
566 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 many came to see their old companions in their new 
 characters, and others to make fun ; but the earnest- 
 ness of the devoted pair had its effect, and the curious 
 and the scoffers became converts in their turn. Little 
 by little assistance began to be held out to the Mis- 
 sion, and at length a strong body of Christian men 
 and women came to its aid with money, a new build- 
 ing was erected, and the Mission placed upon a sound 
 and safe basis. 
 
 Whatever the lives of Jerry McAuley and his wife 
 may have been previous to their reformation, they 
 have nobly atoned for them in the Christian work they 
 have done in the past nine years. They have gone 
 among the outcasts and the wretched, the sinful and 
 the degraded, and have rescued them from their vile 
 ways, brought them to a saving knowledge of God 
 and his religion, and have started them in a new and 
 better course of life. Their efforts often fail ; many of 
 their converts relapse into their old ways, but the 
 number of those who are actually reformed is surpris- 
 ingly large, and the lasting results achieved are great 
 and glorious. No one, however wretched, however 
 far gone in sin, is ever turned away ; a helping hand 
 is extended to all, and the vilest outcast is made to 
 feel welcome and confident that there is still a chance 
 for salvation left him. 
 
 There is no more interesting sight to be witnessed 
 in the great city than one of Jerry McAuley's prayer- 
 meetings. The audience is made up of men and 
 women of various classes, including many who avoid 
 other Christian agencies, who have never been in a 
 place of prayer, or heard the Bible read except by the 
 
jerry's prayer meetings. 567 
 
 prison chaplain ; " poor, friendless men who have drifted 
 into New York from all parts of the world ; drunkards, 
 thieves, roughs, and discharged convicts ; sailors, boat- 
 men, longshoremen, and many prodigal sons who have 
 wandered away from Christian mothers and have fallen 
 into crime and beggary." 
 
 MRS. m'aULEY. 
 
 The meetings are held in the chapel, which is a 
 pleasant, well-lighted and ventilated room, on the first 
 floor. Near the entrance hangs a sign, inscribed as 
 follows : — " The use of tobacco in this room is strictly 
 forbidden;" and near the upper end of the room is 
 another, bearing this inscription : — " Speakers are 
 
568 NEW YORK. 
 
 Strictly limited to one minute." The room is neatly 
 furnished, and is provided with a cabinet organ, at 
 which Mrs. McAuley, a nice, lady-like woman, with a 
 sweet, Madonna-like face, earnest, yet marked with the 
 sadness of past trouble, presides. 
 
 The genius of the place is Jerry McAuley, the re- 
 formed criminal, and now the powerful messenger of 
 the Gospel to the lost ones of the great city. He is a 
 tall, well-built man, with sharp eyes, a long, sharp 
 nose, and a quick, decisive manner. He is thoroughly 
 in earnest in his work, and having been one of the 
 class to whom he appeals, understanding their charac- 
 ter and habits, being intense in his purposes, and ani- 
 mated by a desire to win sinners to the Saviour, he is 
 able to speak with effectual power to these rough 
 men, who listen respectfully to his words, and are 
 attracted by those personal peculiarities that fit him 
 for his work — a work which is unique, and has become 
 one of the most important in the lower part of the 
 great city. Before the meeting begins, and through- 
 out its progress, he is all through the hall, attending 
 to every arrangement, trying to make every one com- 
 fortable, and giving his warmest welcomes to the most 
 degraded of all who seek admittance. His programme 
 of the exercises of the evening, is thus stated in his 
 own energetic way : — We start the meetin' sharp at 
 half-past seven ; the man who reads the Bible takes 
 till a quarter to eight — if he is a long-winded feller l;e 
 stretches it out till eight — then I take hold of it, shut 
 the speeches down to one minute, and on we go for 
 three-quarters of an hour with testimonies." This 
 programme is rigidly adhered to. Jerry knows the 
 
JERRY McAULEY ON DUTY. 
 
 569 
 
 value of brevity, and, therefore, rigidly enforces the 
 one-minute rule. 
 
 The audience drops in in little "gangs," as Jerry 
 calls them, and by half-past seven the chapel is well- 
 filled. As the clock points the half hour, Jerry opens 
 his hymn-book, and calls out in a strong, cheery voice, 
 "sixty-nine! " and thereupon the singing begins, led 
 by the cabinet organ and the woman whose voice was 
 once raised only in blasphemy. If the singing is a lit- 
 tie faint, Jerry spurs up his audience by calling out, 
 " Don't be afraid of your voices, boys ; sing out with 
 your whole soul ; " and generally the volume of praise 
 grows stronger and fuller. The singing over, a rough, 
 but cleanly-looking young man, rises from his seat, 
 and goes timidly to the platform, where he kneels for 
 a moment in prayer. Then, rising, he opens the Bible, 
 and reads the chapter for the evening, after which he 
 gives in his rough way his own experience. 
 
 The testimonies roll in as the meeting progresses,, 
 strange and startling many of them, some so quaintly 
 worded that they would provoke a smile in a more 
 " respectable " prayer-meeting, but all given with an 
 earnestness and pathos that is wonderful. Sometimes 
 a drunken sailor will endeavor to interrupt the meet- 
 ing. One night a man of this kind staggered to his 
 feet, and hiccoughed, Jesus saves me, too." 
 
 "That ain't so," replied Jerry, emphatically; "Jesus 
 don't save any man that is full of gin." 
 
 And down sits the sailor, utterly abashed by the 
 prompt retort. 
 
 Jerry acts as his own policeman, and meets all at- 
 tempts at disturbance on the ground. The offenders 
 
570 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 are seized in his powerful grasp, led to the door, and 
 put into the street. 
 
 As the testimonies are given, the audience is deeply 
 moved. Yonder is a street-walker, kneeling on the 
 floor, with her face hid in her hands, sobbing bitterly. 
 Jerry smiles, beckons his wife, and the good woman 
 goes down to the poor outcast, and whispers to her 
 despairing soul the only words of hope she has ever 
 heard. Others give evidence of their desire to be 
 saved, and the meeting devotes itself to prayer for 
 them. Jerr}^'s keen eye sweeps the room, and at 
 once detects the hesitating. In an instant he is at 
 their side, devoting his rude but powerful eloquence 
 to urging them to take the decisive step then and there. 
 There is something wonderfully encouraging in his 
 strong, hearty grasp of the hand, and in his earnest 
 tones. " I was worse than you," he says ; " but the 
 good Lord saved me, I know there is a chance for 
 you. Take hold of it, my boy, right now." 
 
 When nine o'clock strikes, there is a hymn, a short 
 prayer, and then Jerry dismisses the meeting with a 
 hearty invitation to come again the next night. 
 
THE THEATRES 
 
 571 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 METROPOLITAN AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 SVB PRINCtPAL THEATRES — METROPOLITAN AUDIENCES — EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS THBATRK 
 — SALARIES OF ACTORS — PRODUCTION OF NEW PLAYS — LONG RUNS — "BOOTh's" THKATRB 
 A MODEL ESTABLISHMENT — THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE — " WALLACk'S " — " THE UNION 
 SQUARE " — " DALY'S " — THE ACADEMY OF MUSIC — VARIETY THEATRES — THE GRANB 
 SUKB'S theatre — NEGRO MINSTRELS — CONCERTS — LECTURES. 
 
 In nothing does New York show its Metropolitan 
 character more strikingly than in its amusements. At 
 the head of these stand the theatres, which are more 
 numerous and magnificent than in any American cityo 
 The Metropolis contains fifteen first-class theatres. 
 They are as follows : — The Academy of Music, Wal- 
 lack's, the Union Square, Daly's, the Madison Square, 
 the Park, Booth's, the Grand Opera House, Haverley's 
 Fourteenth Street, the Fifth Avenue, the Standard, 
 the Germania, Harrigan & Hart's, the Thalia, and the 
 Bijou Opera House. Besides these are a number 
 of second-class and variety establishments, and the 
 third-rate theatres of the Bowery and other sections 
 of the city. They are open from the early fall until 
 the late spring, with the exception of the Academy of 
 Music, which is devoted chiefly to Italian Opera, of 
 which only brief seasons are given. They are liberally 
 V supported by the residents of the city, and receive an 
 immense patronage from the great throng of strangers 
 constantly in New York. It is estimated that from 
 $30,000 to $40,000 are nightly expended in the city 
 
572 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 in the purchase of theatre tickets, or from seven to 
 eight million dollars in a single season. 
 
 The Metropolitan theatres are the handsomest and 
 best appointed in the United States, and produce their 
 plays with a splendor and completeness of detail un- 
 known in any other American city. The companies 
 are generally made up of actors and actresses who 
 stand at the head of their profession. A Metropoli- 
 tan audience is hard to please, and is keenly critical, 
 as many would-be managers have learned to their 
 cost. It will not tolerate sham, but is ever ready 
 to encourage and reward true merit. To become a 
 favorite on the New York stage is to win a proud po- 
 sition in J:he dramatic profession, and one that will 
 command success in any part of the country. The 
 leading theatres retain their players as long as they 
 will stay, and many old actors still delight the audiences 
 of the city who conferred the same pleasure upon the 
 fathers and mothers of their present patrons. 
 
 The expenses of a first-class theatre in New York 
 are enormous. The rent runs up into the tens of 
 thousands per annum, and, besides the actors and 
 actresses, anywhere from fifty to one hundred people 
 are employed in each establishment in various capaci- 
 ties. The salaries of the company are liberal, and the 
 leading-man and leading-lady receive very high pay. 
 Wallack pays Miss Rose Coghlan, his leading-lady, 
 ^300 a week, for forty weeks in the year ; Thorne, the 
 leading-man at the Union Square, receives $200 a 
 week ; and John Gilbert, the best actor in Wallack's 
 company, receives $125 a week. These are high 
 figures. A salary of ^100 a week is a iarge one, and 
 
EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS THEATRE. 573 
 
 many of the best artists in stock companies work 
 like beavers for from ^50 to $85 a week. It all de- 
 pends upon the merit of an actor and his popularity 
 w^ith the public. An actor or actress who can draw 
 full houses, and draw them steadily, whatever the at- 
 traction may consist in, is always certain of high pay. 
 Out of their salaries they must provide, in some thea- 
 • tres, their costumes and other stage properties ; in 
 other establishments the manager pays half of the 
 cost of the female costumes ; and in one or two these 
 are provided by the house. Now, as a large part of 
 the attraction of a piece lies in the magnificent toilettes 
 of the actresses, the reader can understand what a 
 heavy expense the player or the management is under 
 in providing them. 
 
 In the production of a new piece, new scenery and 
 stage appointments must be provided, and a first-class 
 house must expend many thousand dollars — often sev- 
 eral tens of thousands — before the curtain rises upon 
 the first performance. The risk is very great, and 
 only the long runs which a successful play is sure to 
 enjoy, would justify a manager in assuming it. The 
 enormous number of theatre-goers in the city enables 
 a manager to keep a popular piece on the boards for 
 months. These long runs are extremely profitable to 
 the management, and enable the players to perfect 
 themselves in their roles to a degree impossible in 
 other cities. The two most profitable theatres in 
 New York are Wallack's and the Union Square. 
 They have the best companies, put their plays on the 
 stage more carefully and elaborately than the other 
 
574 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 houses, and have a steady, assured patronage upon 
 which they can depend with certainty. 
 
 The handsomest theatre in the city is " Booth's,'* at 
 the south-east corner of Sixth avenue and Twenty- 
 third street. It is a beautiful granite edifice, in the 
 renaissance style, and is one of the largest of the city 
 theatres. The interior is beautifully decorated, is 
 provided with three galleries, and will seat over 2000 
 persons. The seats are so arranged that every one 
 commands a perfect view of the stage. The frescos 
 are far superior to any used in the decoration of an 
 American theatre, and are genuine works of art. The 
 stage is one of the most perfect in the world ; the 
 scenery is moved by machinery ; and the changes of 
 scene are executed with such quietness and ease, that 
 they seem like a series of dissolving views. 
 
 The theatre was built by Edwin Booth, between 
 1867 and 1869, and was designed by him to be the 
 most sumptuous temple of the drama in America. 
 It was opened in January, 1869, and for several sea- 
 sons was conducted by Mr. Booth. Here he pro- 
 duced his plays upon a scale of magnificence never 
 witnessed before even in New York — his Shakespear- 
 ian revivals being among the events of the dramatic 
 history of the country. This entailed upon the estab- 
 lishment a degree of expense which proved Mr. 
 Booth's financial ruin, and he was at length compelled 
 to retire from the management. His successors have 
 been but little more fortunate. The necessary ex- 
 penses of the house are very great, and the theatre- 
 goers of New York have not supported the efforts of 
 the successive managers as they have deserved. 
 
676 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 The Grand Opera House, at the north-west corner 
 of Eighth avenue and Twenty-third street, ranks next 
 to "Booth's" in magnificence. It is a massive struc- 
 ture of white marble, erected by the late Samuel N. 
 Pike, of Cincinnati, as an opera house, about fourteen 
 years ago. The location was unfortunate, however, 
 and the opera house failed as a pecuniary venture 
 
 THE GRAND OPERA HOUSH- 
 
 from the start. In 1869 it was purchased by the late 
 James Fiske, Jr. and Jay Gould. The front building 
 was converted into offices for the Erie Railway, which 
 was at that time controlled by these gentlemen. Under 
 Fiske's management the Grand Opera House was the 
 home of Opera Bouffe. The theatre is situated in a* 
 rear building, and is entered from Eighth avenue and 
 
wallack's theatre. 
 
 577 
 
 Twenty-third street by a magnificent lobby. The gal- 
 leries are approached by the handsomest stairway in 
 the city. The theatre is beautifully decorated, will 
 seat over 2000 people, and is provided with one of 
 the largest and best-appointed stages in the world. 
 Of late years the establishment has been very suc- 
 cessful — first-class attractions and popular prices 
 being the policy of the management. 
 
 Wallack's Theatre is par excelle7ice the theati^e of 
 New York. It is situated at the north-east corner of 
 Broadway and Thirtieth street, and is one of the most 
 elegant and beautiful houses in the city. It was 
 opened in December, 1881, and is under the sole 
 management of the distinguished actor, Mr. J. Lester 
 Wallack. The old house, at the corner of Broadway 
 and Thirteenth street, is now a German theatre. 
 ** Wallack's" is the favorite house with resident New 
 Yorkers, and its audiences contain a larger proportion 
 of city people than those of any of its rivals. Its 
 company is the best in the city, is largely made up 
 of old favorites, and is the model troupe of the 
 country. The theatre is one of the most prosperous 
 in New York, and naturally so, as the performances 
 here are given with a degree of perfection unequalled 
 anywhere in the world. 
 
 The Union Square Theatre is situated on Fourteenth 
 street, three doors east of Broadway, and faces Union 
 Square. It was originally leased and fitted up by 
 Sheridan Shook, as a variety theatre. In 1872 it was 
 opened by its present manager, Mr. A. M. Palmer, as 
 a first-class theatre, and devoted chiefly to the sensa- 
 tional school. Under Mr. Palmer's management it 
 37 
 
578 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 has been a magnificent success, ranking as the most 
 profitable house in the Metropolis. Its receipts for 
 the first five years of Mr. Palmer's management 
 amounted to over a million dollars. The auditorium 
 is very beautiful, and the plays produced here are 
 brought out upon a scale of unusual magnificence. 
 
 Daly's Theatre " is situated on Broadway, opposite 
 Wallack's. It is very handsome, and is under the 
 management of Mr. Augustin Daly, the wdl-known 
 dramatist. It is devoted to the sensational school, 
 and ranks amongf the most successful establishments 
 in the city. 
 
 The Academy of Music is the Opera House of New 
 York. It is a plain building of red brick, situated at 
 the corner of Fourteenth street and Irving Place. It 
 is the largest theatre in the city, and will seat 2400 
 people. It is magnificently decorated in crimson and 
 gold, and its auditorium equals in beauty and splendor 
 that of any European opera house. The scene during 
 opera nights is very brilliant, the audience being in 
 full dress, and comprising a thorough representation 
 of the elite and fashion of the Metropolis. 
 
 There are several German theatres in New York, 
 in which plays and opera are rendered in the language 
 of the Fatherland. The principal of these are The 
 Germania," formerly "Wallack's," at the corner of 
 Broadway and Thirteenth street, and " The Thalia," 
 formerly " The Old Bowery," situated on that classic 
 thoroughfare below Canal street. 
 
 Variety theatres are numerous. Of these the prin- 
 cipal are Harrigan & Hart's, on Broadway, opposite 
 the New York Hotel, and "Tony Pastor's," on Four- 
 
THE GRAND DUKE's THEATRE. 
 
 579 
 
 teenth street, between Third and Fourth avenues. 
 These estabHshments draw large audiences, and are 
 very profitable. 
 
 The third-class theatres are situated principally on 
 the Bowery. The price of admission is low, and the 
 performance suited to the tastes of the audience. The 
 majority of these remain open during the summer 
 months. 
 
 Perhaps the most remarkable dramatic establish- 
 ment' in the city is the Grand Duke's Theatre, or, as 
 it is better known to its patrons, " The Grand Dook 
 Theatre," in Water street. It was formerly located ir/ 
 Baxter street, and began its career in a very humble 
 way ; but with increasing prosperity removed to more 
 suitable quarters in Water street. The prices of ad- 
 mission are as follows: — Boxes, 25 cents; orchestra, 
 15 cents; balcony, 10 cents; gallery 5 cents. The es' 
 tablishment is managed and controlled by boys, and 
 its audiences consist chiefly of bootblacks, newsboys, 
 and the juvenile denizens of the east side of the city» 
 ranging in age from three to 20 years. The company 
 is composed of youths yet in their teens, and the per^ 
 formances are of the blood-and-thunder order, inter, 
 spersed with "variety acts" of a startling description., 
 The house and its appointments are primitive, and 
 the stage and scenery equally so. The orchestra is 
 made up of amateur musicians, and is placed out of 
 sight at the back of the stage. The footlights consist 
 of six kerosene lamps with glass shades. Two red- 
 plush lounges, stuffed with saw-dust, and in a sad state 
 of dilapidation, serve as boxes ; while the orchestra 
 stalls are represented by half a dozen two-legged 
 
580 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 benches, and the balcony and gallery are composed 
 of a bewildering arrangement of step-ladders and dry- 
 goods boxes. The manager acts as his own police- 
 man, and enforces order by punching the heads of 
 disorderly spectators, or by summarily ejecting them. 
 The performances are crude, but they satisfy the au- 
 dience, and never fail to draw forth a storm of ap- 
 plause, mingled with shrill whistles, cat-calls, and other 
 vocal sounds. The boys are satisfied. What more 
 could be desired? 
 
 Negro minstrelsy is very popular in New York. 
 The Metropolis has a warm corner in its heart for 
 the "burnt-c )rk opera." Several handsome minstrel 
 halls provide nightly entertainments during the season, 
 which are largely attended by respectable audiences. 
 
 Concerts and lectures are also well patronized. 
 Chickering's, Steinway's, and Association Halls, and 
 the great hall of the Cooper Union, are the principal 
 centres of these attractions. 
 
POVERTY IN NEW YORK. 581 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 LIFE UNDER THE SHADOW. 
 
 POVERTY IN NEW YORK — THE DESERVING POOR — SAD SCENES — " RAGPICKERS* ROW " — HOW 
 THE RAGPICKERS LIVE — AN ITALIAN COLONY SOUR BEKR DRUNKENNESS IN " RAGPICK- 
 ERS* row" — BOTTLE ALLEY— A RELIC OF THE FIVE POINTS— A WRETCHED QUARTER — THB 
 DWELLINGS OF POVERTY — THE CELLARS — LIFE BELOW GROUND — BAXTER STREET — THB 
 CHINESEQUARTER— A HOSPITAL FOR CATS. 
 
 It is a terrible thing to be poor in any part of the 
 world. In New York poverty is simply a living death. 
 The city is full of suffering and misery. Some of it the 
 wretched people who endure it have, no doubt, brought 
 upon themselves by drink, by idleness, or by other 
 faults, but a large majority are simply unfortunate. 
 Their poverty has come upon them through no fault 
 of their own ; they struggle bravely against it, and 
 would better their condition if they could only find 
 work. They are held down by an iron hand, however, 
 and vainly endeavor to rise out of their misery. They 
 dwell in wretched tenement houses, in the cellars of 
 the buildings in the more thickly populated parts of 
 the city, and in the shanties in the unsettled regions 
 lying west of the Central Park. A few families, even 
 in the midst of their sufferings, manage to keep their 
 poor quarters clean and neat, but the majority live in 
 squalor and filth. But litde furniture is to be seen in 
 the rooms of the poor. Everything that can bring 
 money finds its way to the pawnshops for the means 
 to buy food. Many of these wretched homes have 
 been stripped of all their contents for this purpose. 
 
THE HOMES OF THE POOR. 
 
 583 
 
 A cooklng-stove sometimes constitutes the only article 
 of furniture in a room, and the inmates sleep upon pal- 
 lets on the floor. Not a chair or table is to be seen. 
 Often there is no stove, and the only food that passes 
 the lips of the occupants of these rooms is what is 
 given to them in charity. 
 
 The. inmates of these wretched homes are often 
 families who have seen better days. Once the husband 
 and father could give those dependent upon him a 
 comfortable home, and provide at least the necessaries 
 of life. But sickness came upon him, or death took 
 him, and the little family was deprived of his support. 
 In vain the mother sought to procure work to keep 
 her children in comfort. What work she could pro- 
 cure was at intervals, and the little she earned barely 
 sufficed to keep a roof over their heads. Little by 
 little they sank lower, until poverty in its worst form 
 settled upon them. The city is full of such cases, and 
 the Missionaries whose labors among the poor bring 
 them in constant contact with such scenes of suffering, 
 confess that they do not know how these poor people 
 manage to live. Whole blocks are filled with families 
 on the verge of starvation, suffering every kind of 
 privation. They would gladly work if they could get 
 employment; but the city is so full of sufferers like 
 themselves that they cannot escape from their wretched 
 condition. " Bottle Alley," " Ragpickers' Row," sec- 
 tions of the Five Points, and other localities, present 
 scenes of misery which almost surpass belief Many 
 of the dwellers here pick up a bare subsistence as 
 street scavengers. They gather up whatever they can 
 find, and sell it to the junk and rag stores for what- 
 
584 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 ever it will bring. They carry the mass of refuse 
 they collect during the day to their homes, sort it out 
 there, spread out the rags, or hang them up to dry, 
 pjle up the other materials in the yards and courts of 
 their dwellings until they can dispose of them, and 
 thus add to the wretched appearance and filth of their 
 quarters. 
 
 To those who visit these sections of the city, each 
 one seems worse than the other. " Bottle Alley " 
 appears as bad as can be, yet ''Gotham Court" seems 
 in some respects even worse, and "Ragpickers' Row" 
 appears more wretched still. "Ragpickers' Row" is 
 the most wretched haunt occupied by human beings 
 in the New World. It is easily found. You leave 
 the Bowery at Bayard street, go down two blocks to 
 Mulberry street, and it is just around the corner. 
 Anybody can tell you where the ragpickers live. 
 There is no mistaking the place. "A junkman's cellar 
 in the front house opens widely to the street, and, peer- 
 ing down, one may see a score of men and women 
 half buried in dirty rags and paper, which they are 
 gathering up and putting into bales for the paper 
 mills. This is the general depot to which the rag- 
 picker brings his odds and ends for sale after he has 
 assorted them. Just as we emerge from this cellar a 
 ragpicker, heavily laden, passes up the stoop and 
 enters the hall above. Following him, we come to a 
 small, badly-paved courtyard, which separates the 
 front from the rear houses. Standing here and look- 
 ing up, one beholds a sight that cannot be imagined. 
 Rags to the right of him, rags to the left of him, on 
 all sides nothing but rags. Lines in the yard draped 
 
CHINESE QUARTER. 
 
DWELLINGS OF THE RAGPICKERS. 585 
 
 • 
 
 with them, balconies festooned with them, fire-escapes 
 decorated with them, windows hung with them ; in 
 short, every available object dressed in rags — and 
 such rags ! of every possible size, shape, and color. 
 Some of them have been drawn through the wash-tub 
 to get off the worst dirt, but for the most part they 
 are hung up just as they were taken from the bags, 
 and left to the rain and sun to cleanse them. The 
 exterior of the buildings is wretched enough ; the inte- 
 rior equally so. Some of the rooms, on a cloudy day, 
 are as dark as dungeons, with but little light coming 
 in through the dirty window on the front and the 
 smaller one on the back. Every inch of the ceiling 
 and walls is as black as ink. Against this dark back- 
 ground are hung unused hats of odd colors and still 
 odder shapes, musical instruments of various kinds, 
 pots, kettles, and pans, pokers, joints of raw meat 
 pardy consumed, strings of Bologna sausages, the 
 gowns of the women, and great pipes. The beds are 
 almost invariably covered with old carpets, that still 
 retain some bits of their original colors. None of the 
 chairs have backs, and hardly any of them have four 
 legs. Seated on these uncertain supports, or oftener 
 on an empty soap-box or upturned boiler, are the rag- 
 pickers. Every man in the house has his hat on, 
 including one in the bed napping after the hard work 
 of the early morning. Not one bareheaded man is 
 seen anywhere. Some of them are sitting dreamily 
 by the stove, but most of them are sorting old rags or 
 cutting up old coats and pantaloons that are too rot- 
 ten to wear, and stuffing the bits into bags for the 
 junk dealer. In one room is a woman plucking a 
 
586 NEW YORK. 
 
 well-seasoned goose with her dirty hands. In another 
 place four men are seated on a big chest, with a bit 
 of Bologna sausage in one hand and a chunk of bread 
 in the other, making their noon-day meal. These 
 same hands have just been turning over the filthy 
 scraps from the garbage-boxes and the gutters. On 
 the ground floor a man, who looks for all the world 
 like a brigand, is stirring broth over the fire, and the 
 horrible odor of rottenness that comes from the pot 
 is enough to knock one down. 
 
 " None of the members of this Italian colony speak 
 English, except here and there one who has mastered 
 a few common phrases ; but there is one word that 
 all of them understand, and that is, * Beer.' Here, as 
 in ' Bottle Alley,' kegs are found in several of the 
 rooms, where the contents are dealt out at a cent a 
 glass. It is nearly all sour stuff, given to the men for 
 helping on the brewers' wagons, or sold to them at 
 the end of the day for a mere trifle. * Is there much 
 drunkenness there ? ' asked the writer of a police-offi- 
 cer. * Oh, yes, sir,' he replied ; * we can go in there, 
 or in any of these alleys, any night, and get a cart- 
 load of drunken and disorderlies. We don't take 
 them one by one, but gather them up in a hand-cart, 
 and wheel them off to the station-house. They are 
 not usually people who live there, but bummers who 
 go there to drink.'" For these wretched quarters the 
 people who live in them pay from five to six dollars a 
 month rent out of their earnings, which rarely exceed 
 fifty cents a day. 
 
 "Bottle Alley" is another terrible neighborhood. It 
 is a portion of the old Five Points, and is the abode 
 
588 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 of misery and wretchedness.' How it came by its 
 name no one knows, but it was probably so called 
 because of the trade in old bottles carried on by a 
 junkman who lives in its rear. The alleyway, about 
 four and a half feet wide, is cut through the front 
 house, and, running back about thirty-five feet, it opens 
 into a little courtyard that faces the rear building. It 
 is irregularly paved with cobble-stones, is covered 
 with filth, and looks as though it might be a passage- 
 way leading from a stable. Standing at the entrance, 
 and looking in from the street, no one would ever dream 
 that the tumble-down building in the rear was the 
 abode of human beings. 
 
 The cellar is a queer hole. Passing down a flight 
 of stone steps (every one of which is out of joint 
 with its neighbor) and through a dilapidated doorway, 
 you stand in an apartment ten by fourteen feet, with a 
 ceiling so low that you can scarcely stand up with your 
 hat on. One of these walls is of bare logs, the others 
 of undressed stone. There are no chairs to sit on, 
 only a few rough boxes. An Italian family of five 
 persons occupies the room, paying five dollars a month 
 rent, and taking«lodgers — sometimes eight to twelve — 
 at five cents a night. To add to their income they 
 sell sour beer at two cents a pint or three cents a 
 quart. The place is filthy beyond belief. The two 
 upper floors are not quite so bad ; but they contain 
 sights that baffle description. The inmates are hud- 
 dled together in disregard of cleanliaess and decency. 
 The rooms are dirty and the air is foul. The food is 
 gathered principally from the garbage-boxes of the 
 streets or from the offal of the markets. The cook- 
 
LIFE IN THE CELLARS. 
 
 589 
 
 ing is done from time to time, and fills the rooms with 
 horrible odors. There are no bedsteads. Filthy-look- 
 ing mattresses are spread on the floor, or on boards 
 placed upon supports. The inmates never undress, 
 but go to bed with their clothes on, including their 
 boots and shoes. The children are wan and pinched 
 in appearance, and are fi-ightfully dirty. What wonder 
 that sickness and disease hold high revel here ? 
 
 Bad as is the lot of these people, they at least exist 
 upon the face of the earth. Those who dwell in the 
 cellars of these wretched quarters are infinitely worse 
 off. The cellars are all located below the level of the 
 pavements. They have but one entrance, and a sin- 
 gle window gives light and ventilation. There is no 
 outlet to the rear, and the filth of the streets drains 
 steadily into them. They are occupied by the poorest 
 of the poor, and the amount of misery and wretched- 
 ness, of dirt and squalor to be witnessed in them sur- 
 passes description. In the winter time a stove heats 
 the place, and renders the air so foul and stifling that 
 one unaccustomed to it cannot breathe in the room. 
 Many of these cellars are lodging-houses, into which 
 the wretched outcasts who walk the streets during 
 the day crowd for shelter at night. They pay from 
 two to five cents for a night's lodging, and sometimes 
 as many as from twenty-five to fifty persons are 
 packed in these terrible holes. 
 
 Baxter street is another scene of misery, and, alas, 
 of crime. It is the centre of the Italian and Chinese 
 colonies. Its dwellings are equal in wretchedness to 
 those described. It is a terrible neighborhood, and 
 at night even the police venture into it with caution. 
 
590 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Drunken rows, fights, and stabbing affrays are ot 
 nightly occurrence. 
 
 John Chinaman finds his home ' in this and the 
 neighboring streets. He is a stranger and a waif in 
 the great city, but he has managed to establish a dis- 
 tinct quarter here. In other portions of the city are 
 Chinese laundries, where the almond-eyed Celestials 
 conduct the business of washing and ironing at rates 
 which could not possibly afford a decent living to. 
 white men ; but here are the headquarters of the 
 Mongolians, their gaming houses and opium dens. 
 Though peaceable as a rule, they are sometimes very 
 troublesome, and the police find them hard customers 
 to handle. They are inveterate gamblers, and one of 
 their chief dissipations consists in stupefying them- 
 selves by smoking opium. The opium dens are sim- 
 ply dirty rooms provided with wooden bunks, in which 
 the smokers may lie and sleep off the effects of the 
 terrible drug. Many of these places are patronized 
 by white people, and some number women of the 
 lower class among their customers. 
 
 One of the greatest curiosities in New York is the 
 "Hospital for Cats." It is located at No. 170 Divi- 
 sion street, in the midst of the tenement-house section 
 of the city, and is conducted by Mrs. Rosalia Good- 
 man, a philanthropic German lady. She devotes the 
 greater part of her time to the comfort and relief of 
 neglected and persecuted felines, and is quite an en- 
 thusiast in her singular avocation. The house she 
 occupies is a three-story wooden structure, dating back 
 to the Dutch period of the city. She has lived there 
 for a number of years, and makes a comfortable living 
 
THE HOSPITAL FOR CATS. 
 
 591 
 
 by renting rooms, retaining two for herself and her 
 cats. Besides many pets who for years have been 
 kindly cared for, the family is being constantly in- 
 creased by the addition of unfortunate tabbies whose 
 wants are brought to the notice of the worthy lady. 
 Lean and hungry cats, prowling around in search of 
 food ; cats who bear scars received by having boot- 
 jacks, bricks, and crockery- ware hurled at them by 
 unappreciative hearers while they were performing a 
 midnight concert ; cats who come out with broken 
 limbs and disordered fur from an interview with 
 naughty little boys ; cats who are hungry and in dis- 
 tress, or who have strayed away from their homes, are 
 brought here, and are kindly receiyed and cared for. 
 So well is the idiosyncrasy of Mrs. Goodman known 
 in the neighborhood, that whenever one of her neigh- 
 bors finds a cat in distress, it is taken to her, and is 
 always welcomed. Her room presents a most singu- 
 lar appearance. It is literally filled with cats of all 
 sizes and descriptions, who crowd around the good 
 lady, perch upon her shoulders, and nesde in her arms. 
 She prepares their food with her own hands, and care- 
 fully ministers to all their wants. 
 
692 
 
 NEW YORK, 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 THE METROPOLITAN PRESS. 
 
 Tmm DAILY NEWSPAPERS — HOW THE LEADING JOURNALS ARE CONDUCTED— THE VARIOUS Dlk 
 PARTMENTS — PRINTING-HOUSE SQUARE— EDITORS* SALARIES— THE "NEW YORK HERALD** 
 — IHE HERALD OFFICE — JAMES GORDON BENNETT — CIRCULATION OF "THE HERALD "—• 
 THE TRIBUNE "THE TALL TOWER " — WHITELAW REID — PROFITS OF "THE TRIBUNk"— 
 .# '* THE TIMES," THE LEADING REPUBLICAN JOURNAL — " THE SUN," A LIVELY PAPB»— 
 
 CHARLES A. DANA — PROFITS OF "THE SUN " — THE EVENING PAPERS — WEEK LIES— MAGA- 
 ZINES. 
 
 The daily newspapers of New York stand at the 
 head of the American press. There are 12 leading 
 daily morning papers ; 7 leading daily evening papers ; 
 10 semi-weekly ; nearly 200 weekly papers ; and about 
 25 magazines and reviews published in the city. These 
 have an annual circulation of over one thousand mil- 
 lion copies. They are devoted to general news, poli- 
 tics, literature, science, and art — in short, to every 
 subject that can interest or attract the people of the 
 Metropolis and the country at large. They employ 
 millions of dollars and thousands of men in their pub- 
 lication, and their profits vary from handsome for- 
 tunes to smaller sums than their proprietors desire 
 to see. 
 
 The morning papers are those which give tone to 
 the Metropolitan press, and are the models after 
 which the journals of other American cities are pat- 
 terned. The principal are, the Herald, Tribune, 
 Times, World, and Sun in English, the Staats Zeitung 
 in German, and the Courier des Etats Ufiis in French. 
 Some of these papers are the private property of 
 
THE NEW YORK DAILIES. 
 
 593 
 
 their publishers, while others are owned by joint-stock 
 companies. 
 
 The management of the daily newspapers is admi- 
 rably systematized, and its various departments are 
 conducted with the regularity and precision of clock- 
 work. Each paper is in charge of an editor-in-chief, 
 who controls its general policy, and assigns his vari- 
 ous assistants their respective tasks. He is respon- 
 sible to the proprietor and to the public for the course 
 of the journal, and sees that the work in the various 
 departments is promptly and faithfully performed. 
 The night editor occupies one of the most responsible 
 positions in the office. He takes charge of the paper 
 about seven or eight o'clock in the evening, and con- 
 trols it until it goes to press, about three or four 
 o'clock in the morning. He receives and edits the 
 telegraphic news, and the reports of the various 
 reporters, decides what shall or shall not appear in 
 the paper, a task which often requires the nicest tact 
 and good judgment, and sees that the journal is prop- 
 erly put to press. Where important news is expected 
 he often holds the paper back until daylight. The 
 foreign editor has charge of the correspondence from 
 Europe and other countries, and generally writes the 
 editorials relating to matters abroad. The financial 
 editor prepares the financial reports showing the daily 
 state of the money market, and writes the articles 
 which appear in the paper relating to such matters. 
 His position is one of great responsibility and impor- 
 tance, as he must be thoroughly informed of the prog- 
 ress of events, not only in New York, but in the vari- 
 ous monetar)^ centres of this country and Europe. He 
 38 
 
594 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 plays no small part in shaping the financial policy of 
 the country, and largely influences the opinions of his 
 readers. His duties bring him in constant contact 
 with the leading bankers and brokers of the country, 
 and afford him many opportunities of making money 
 apart from his salary. The city editor has charge of 
 all the local news of the paper, and of the reporters 
 and their work. The leading dailies employ from 
 twelve to thirty or forty reporters, and expend large 
 sums in the collection of news. The reporters pre- 
 sent written accounts of their observations to the city 
 editor, who revises them and puts them in proper 
 shape for the paper. He assigns each reporter his 
 special duties every morning, noting them down in a 
 book kept for that purpose. Special reporters are 
 assigned to duty in Brooklyn, Jersey City, Newark^ 
 and the surrounding towns, to the law and police 
 courts, public meetings, conventions, parades, churches, 
 lectures, and, in short, to every source from which news 
 can be drawn. Sometimes very little work is to be 
 done ; at others the ^hole force of the office is busy, 
 and extra help has to be engaged. There are also 
 musical and dramatic critics, who write the reports of 
 the prominent performances at the various places of 
 amusements, and a literary editor, who reviews the 
 publications sent to the paper for notice, and gets up 
 the literary news. 
 
 Each daily is in charge of a publisher, who attends 
 to the printing-office, the press-room, the counting- 
 room, and the various matters connected with the 
 practical work of getting out a newspaper. He man- 
 
EDITORS* SALARIES. 
 
 595 
 
 ages all its financial matters, and upon his energy de- 
 pends the pecuniary success of the journal. 
 
 Almost all the leading morning and evening dailies 
 are located in large buildings in and near Printing- 
 House Square, as the triangular place on the east side 
 of the City Hall Park at the north end of Park row- 
 is called. In the centre of the open space is a bronze 
 statue of Benjamin Franklin, erected by the printers 
 of New York ; and around the so-called square are a 
 number of restaurants and drinking saloons, which 
 are kept open all night, and are patronized principally 
 by newspaper men, printers, and kindred spirits. 
 
 The salaries paid by the city journals are not high. 
 The leading editors, and the more prominent men on 
 the various dailies, are paid from $3,000 to $12,000 a 
 year ; but, considering the amount and the character 
 of the work done, the pay is not large. As the most 
 of these are married men, and the cost of living in 
 the Metropolis is high, newspaper men, even with 
 large salaries, rarely have an opportunity to put 
 by much for a rainy day. The large salaries- are 
 very few in number, however — scarcely half a dozen 
 in the whole city — and the majority of newspaper men 
 work hard on very small wages. As a rule they die 
 poor, though the proprietors of the journals which 
 they have helped to make successful usually win 
 large fortunes. 
 
 At the head of the city dailies, as well as of, the 
 American press, stands the New York Herald, It is 
 the weakhiest and most prosperous journal in the 
 country, and is the private property of Mr. James 
 Gordon Bennett, who was carefully trained by liis 
 
596 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 father, the founder of the paper, as his successor. 
 The story of The Herald is familiar to every reader, 
 and we need not repeat it here. It is a noble monu- 
 ment to the energy, enterprise, and ability of its foun- 
 der. The Herald office is a magnificent structure of 
 white marble at the corner of Broadway and Ann 
 street, one of the most conspicuous locations in the ^ i 
 city. The cellars are occupied by the press-rooms, 
 which are connected with the composing-rooms by 
 elevators, by means of which the forms " are carried 
 between the two extremes of the building. Three 
 costly Hoe presses, of the latest patent, are kept 
 running from midnight until seven o'clock in the 
 morning, working off the daily edition. Every me- 
 chanical appliance that ingenious experts can suggest, 
 and abundant means procure, is furnished by the lib- 
 eral proprietor, so that the means to spread The Her- 
 ald far and wide shall be the best in the world. The 
 .business offices occupy the street floor, which is 
 raised about two feet above the sidewalk, and these 
 are fitted up in elegant style, and are connected with 
 the editorial and composing rooms by winding stair- 
 ways^ of iron, speaking tubes, and slides, through 
 which small boxes travel up and down. The edi- 
 torial rooms are on the second and third floors, and 
 are the most uncomfortable in the building. They are 
 dark and badly ventilated. The best lighted front on 
 Broadway, and are occupied by Mr. Bennett, the man- 
 aging editor, the editor in charge, and The Heralds 
 secretary. On the same side of the building is the 
 Council room," a long, narrow apartment, in which 
 are a desk for the chief editorial writer, a type writer, 
 
THE NEW YORK HERALD. 
 
 597 
 
 and a long table, at which the council of editors assem- 
 ble at a stated hour each day to discuss the subjects 
 to be treated of in the next day's paper. The com- 
 posing rooms are under the Mansard roof, and con- 
 tain every appliance for the prompt dispatch of the 
 work of the establishment, and a small army of com- 
 positors. 
 
 Mr. Bennett is in every sense the manager of 
 The Herald. He is not a writer, but he is an excel- 
 lent business man, a good listener, a quick decider, 
 and a firm supporter of those who serve him well. 
 To him is due the credit of nearly all the great suc- 
 cesses of the paper. He conceived and put in execu- 
 tion the Stanley expedition, and almost all the great 
 undertakings which have made The Herald the rep- 
 resentative of American journalism. He orders the 
 lengthy telegrams from abroad — the interviews with 
 leading statesmen, journalists, and prominent actors 
 in European affairs. He spends much of his time in 
 Europe, but never loses his grip upon the manage- 
 ment of The Herald, with which he is in constant 
 communication by telegraph. When at home his eye 
 is upon every department of the paper, and there is a 
 general shaking up throughout the office. 
 
 During Mr. Bennett's absence he is represented by 
 the managing editor, Mr. Thomas Connery, one of the 
 most competent newspaper men in the Metropolis. 
 
 The circulation of The Herald is about 60,000 dur- 
 ing the week, and 50,000 on Sunday. Its advertising 
 business is immense, and its Sunday issue is a quin- 
 tuple sheet, with from fifty-five to sixty columns of 
 bona fide advertisements. It is worth a fortune to its 
 
598 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 owner every year, and can count upon the most mag^ 
 nificent future of any journal in America. 
 
 The Tribune is located in one of the loftiest build- 
 ings in the city, at the corner of Nassau and Spruce 
 streets, and fronts upon Printing-House Square. The 
 building is of brick, was erected at a cost of $600,000, 
 and is surmounted by a lofty tower with an illumi- 
 nated clock, which makes it one of the landmarks of 
 the great city. The history of The Tribune has been 
 an eventful one. Founded by Horace Greeley, it was, 
 until his misfortunes came upon him, the most power- 
 ful Republican journal in the land. After Mr. Gree- 
 ley's death, he was succeeded in the chief editorship 
 by Whitelaw Reid, and great changes were made in 
 the paper, the new building was erected, the stock of 
 the association passed into new hands, and finally Mr. 
 Reid became the nominal owner of a majority of the 
 shares. It is well known, however, that the real owner 
 is Jay Gould, and this knowledge has greatly weak- 
 ened the popular confidence in the financial articles 
 of the paper, which were once one of its chief sources 
 of strength. 
 
 The Tribune is owned by an association, and repre- 
 sents property worth over $1,000,000. Between 1865 
 and 1878 it cleared a profit of $1,637,000, which was 
 paid out in dividends, or invested in property. Its 
 profits average about $100,000 a yean and have^done 
 so for some years past. The offices of the journal are 
 the most elegant in New York, the rooms being large, 
 airy, and well lighted, and fitted up with every com- 
 fort and convenience. The managing editor, Mr, 
 Whitelaw Reid, is also the publisher of the paper. 
 
THE TIMES, WORLD AND SUN. 
 
 599 
 
 He is one of the most accomplished newspaper men 
 in the country, a thorough business man, and a rigid 
 disciplinarian. The daily circulation of the paper is 
 about 35,000, the semi-weekly edition circulates 
 20,000, and the weekly about 75,000 copies. During 
 Horace Greeley's life the circulation of the weekly 
 was more than double the above number. 
 
 The Times occupies a handsome building at the in- 
 tersection of Park Row and Nassau street, and stands 
 opposite The Tribune, It is the leading Republican 
 journal of New York, and w^as founded by the late 
 Henry J. Raymond, under whom it pursued a brilliant 
 career. After Mr. Raymond's death it encountered 
 severe trials at the hands of incompetent men, but 
 finally the majority of the stock passed into the hands 
 of Mr. George Jones, and he assumed the business 
 management of the paper. Under him it has been a 
 great success. Its present circulation is about 35,000 
 copies on week days, and 40,000 on Sunday. Its 
 annual profits are about ^200,000. 
 
 The World is the leading Democratic daily, and has 
 comfortable quarters in Park Row, just out of Print- 
 ing-House Square. It is said to be controlled by Jay 
 Gould, and its course in financial matters gives strong 
 grounds for believing this assertion. Its circulation 
 is estimated at from 15,000 to 30,000. 
 
 The Sun claims to be the organ of the working peo- 
 ple, and is independent in tone. It is a four-page 
 paper, closely printed, and a model of condensation 
 of news and general information. It is ably edited, 
 and is one of the brightest and most sparkling journals 
 in the country. The editor-in-chief, and its principal 
 
600 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 owner, is Charles A. Dana, one of the veteran journal- 
 ists of the Metropolis. The paper was founded by the 
 late Moses Y. Beach, about thirt^ years ago, but never 
 achieved any reputation, and finally became so offen- 
 sive that it was regarded as a nuisance. It was read 
 only by sewing and servant girls and small advertisers, 
 and was rapidly going down hill. In 1868 an associa- 
 tion, headed by Mr. Dana, bought the paper and 
 placed it under the charge of that gentleman. Mr. 
 Dana at once elevated the tone of the journal, infused 
 new life into it, employed an able corps of assistants, 
 and soon made the new Sun one of the most popular 
 and best paying journals in the city. It now occupies 
 
 a handsome building in 
 Printing-House Square, 
 at the corner of Frank- 
 fort street, and has the 
 largest circulation of 
 any city daily, an aver- 
 age of 130,000 copies 
 being sold every day. 
 Its profits since 1869 
 have run from $99,000 
 to $164,000 (in 1876) 
 yearly. The Weekly 
 Sun has also a tre- 
 mendous circulation. 
 
 The evening papers 
 have large circulations, 
 and are very profitable. 
 The principal are The Post, The Express, The Mail, 
 The Telegram, and The Graphic. The Post is re- 
 
 THB EVENING MAIL BUILDING. 
 
THE EVENING PAPERS. 
 
 601 
 
 garded as the "solidest" evening paper in the Me- 
 tropolis. It is read largely by cultivated persons, and 
 its book notices and reviews are considered the best 
 of those of any city journal. The Express is the or- 
 gan of John Kelly, who is its principal owner. The 
 Mail is owned by Cyrus W. Feld, the originator of 
 the Atlantic Telegraph, is a bright, pleasant paper, 
 and is much liked. The Telegram is owned by James 
 Gordon Bennett, and may be regarded as an evening 
 edition of The Herald. It is published in the same 
 building. It has the largest circulation of any of the 
 evening journals, is ably edited, and is a thoroughly 
 good newspaper. Its local reports are a specialty. 
 The Graphic is the only illustrated daily in the world, 
 and is the property of a stock company. It is doing 
 well, and enjoys a large popularity, because of its 
 illustrations of current events. 
 
 The weekly press embraces the prominent religious, 
 Yiterary, scientific, art, and mechanical journals' of the 
 country. These are fairly prosperous as a rule, and 
 are scattered broadcast throughout the land. 
 
 The magazines are numerous, and are devoted to all 
 subjects. Harper's and The Century, formerly Scrib- 
 ners, stand at the head of the list of literary journals. 
 
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