t^O^ ''^V.- ..^.^. o . fc ^<^ \ / ^^^ *> V\' ."Jv' 0^ oO-^.-^o, .^^^ ,.-: <*, ,0' ■'> o. -^ <*. t^O^ ^^--^ ^^ ^0 • ^^' G .^ .^^ -^^^0^ .0 ^ * o , o '' ^, t-o^ G ^^- 0^ ^^' '^, -T-- -*- ■'bt^' ;^t^v '^-0* •.^^i^" -^o" ;f^\ jiiiiiiiiiaisiy,' jliiilliliiiiililiiiiiiiiiiptii ■!!* NEW YORK Sunlight and Gaslight A WORK DESCRIPTIVE OF THE GREAT AMERICAN METROPOLIS. ITS HIGH AND LOW LIFE; ITS SPLENDORS AND MISERIES; ITS VIRTUES AND VICES ; ITS GORGEOUS PALACES AND DARK HOMES OF POVERTY AND CRIME; ITS PUBLIC MEN, POLITI- \Jr CIANS, ADVENTURERS ; ITS CHARITIES, _y'' ^ \' FRAUDS, MYSTERIES, ETC., ETC. ,1/ BY JAMES D. McCABE, AUIHOR OF "PARIS BY SUNLIGHT AND GASLIGHT," "PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE WORLD, "centennial history of the UNITED STATES," "CROSS AND CROWN, ' ETC. ILLUSTRATED WITH FINE FULL-PAGE AND OTHER ENGRAVINGS. JM^k^^ PHILADELPHIA, PA.: DOUGLASS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS. J()\F.s Bros. & Co., Philadelphia; Douglass Bro,-,. & P.wne, Cincin- nati, O.; H. N. Hinckley, Chicago, III.; S( uthern Publishing Co., New Orleans, La. 1S82. Copyright by DOUGLASS BROTHERS. 1881. Press of Wm. F. Fell & Co., 1220-1224 Sansom Street, Philadelphia. PREFACE. What Paris is to the Frenchman, or London to the Briton, New 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 know 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 know 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 iV 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 themselves 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 occupyall one's time 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 \st, 1881. J. d. m'c. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. TAGS BARTHOLDI'S STATUE, "LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD," (Frontispiece) 'EVENING POST BUILDING (Full Page).-,''. 43 ODD FELLOWS' HALL 44 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) to/ace 61 ■ -PAVONIA DOCKS, JERSEY CITY (Full Page)... v. 90 -BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF NEW YORK (Full Page)..y. 93 BROADWAY, LOOKING NORTH FROM EXCHANGE PLACE 136 MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE BUILDING 138 -•ST. PAUL'S CHURCH (Full Page)....v 139 ■"BROADWAY, AT THE POST OFFICE (Full Page) 141 -LORD AND TAYLOR'S DRY GOODS STORE (Full Page) 150 -SWELL TURNOUT ON FIFTH AVENUE (Full Page) 172 METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILWAY STATION, SIXTH AVENUE AND TWENTY-THIRD STREET (Full Page) to/act 179 ELEVATED RAILROAD, CHATHAM SQUARE (Full Page) to/ace 1S3 COENTIES SLIP (Full Page) to/ace 191 THE THIRD AVENUE RAILROAD DEPOT 241 ilASONIC TEMPLE, SIXTH AVENUE AND TWENTY-THIRD STREET 252 METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILROAD, SIXTH AVENUE AND FOUR- TEENTH STREET (Full Page) toface 255 V ^COACHING DAY IN CENTRAL PARK (Full Page) 263 COOPER INSTITUTE AND ELEVATED RAILROAD, THIRD AVENUE (Full Page) • toface 267 y "PLEASE GIVE ME A PENNY" 271 'SCENE ON WEST STREET (Full Page) 279 CITY HALL AND PARK (Full Page) toface 207-- UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY 299 CUSTOM HOUSE 301 ^CUSTOM HOUSE INSPECTION (Full Page) 303 STEINWAY HALL 307 COOPER UNION 3^9 NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN 312 XJRAND 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) toface ^s^' CUNARD STEAMSHIP "GALLIA" 361 SOUND STEAMER BRISTOL (Full Page) toface 361 '"GRAND SALOON, SOUND STEAMER (Full Page) 363 \PAVONIA AND ERIE RAILWAY FERRY (Full Page) t^rfave"^ ^0'{ AN ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE FOILED (Full Page) toface 397^ VI LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. COURTLANDT STREET FERRY (Full Page) 403 THE TOMBS 410 SCENE IN A POLICE COURT (Full Page) to/ace 417- LUDLOW STREET JAIL 4^9 UNION SQUARE, AT FOURTEENTH STREET (Full Page) to/ace 427 . SVIADISON 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) 435 ^THE OBELISK (Full Page) 463 ■^'RIXITY CHURCH (Full Page) 471 A FANCY BALL AT THE BUCKINGHAM PALACE (Full Page) to/ace 481 • ^A WATER STREET DANCE HOUSE (Full Page) 491 JAY GOULD 497 THE SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT ARMORY 499 THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY 502 WM. H. VANDERBILT 503 ^IVER PIRATES ESCAPING FROM THE POLICE (Full Page) 519 CREEDMOOR RIFLE RANGE 528 ;;^00 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 534 -A. T. STEWART & CO.'S RETAIL STORE (Full Page) 537 TENEMENT HOUSE IN BAXTER STREET (Full Page) to/ace 561 JERRY M'AULEY 564 MRS. M'AULEY 567 '^ BOOTH'S THEATRE (Full Page) 575 GRAND OPERA HOUSE 576 ""THE HOMES OF THE POOR (Full Page) 582 SCENE IN THE CHINESE QUARTERS (Full Page) to/ace 585, ~-SHANTIES IN EIGHTH AVENUE (Full Page) 587 HOSPITAL FOR CATS (Full Page) to/ace 59i' THE EVENING MAIL BUILDING 600 CHEMICAL FIRE ENGINE 606 NEW YORK FIREMEN RESCUING A CHILD FROM THE FLAMES 6n -HARRY iillLLS (Full Page) 613 HON. JOHN KELLY 617 REV. HENRY C. POTTER, D.D 622 REV. JOHN C. HALL, D.D 625 REV. THOS. ARMITAGK, D.D 626 REV. W. M. TAYLOR. D.D 627 REV. ROBT. COLLYER, D.D 628 "^ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL (Full Page) 632 THE OLD BOWERY THEATRE 640 ST. NICHOLAS HOTEL 646 METROPOLITAN HOTEL 647 GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL 649 THE TRAMP'S BATH 653 BEER TRAMPS 654 EMIGRANTS LANDING AT CASTLE GARDEN (Full Page) toface 661 SCENE IN FULTON MARKET DURING THE WATERMELON SEASON (Full Page) to/ace 665 HIGH BRIDGE 669 CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. THE GREAT METROPOLIS. \ GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK CITY — LOCATION— NATURAL ADVANTAGES — COMMERCIAL ADVANTAGES — THE STREETS — BUILDINGS — CLIMATE — HEALTHFULNESS — MORTALITY — RAPID 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 THE CITY — THE MOST DENSELY SETTLED PART OF NEW YORK — THE FLOATING POPULATION — STRANGERS IN NEW YORK — FOREIGN DISTRICTS — COSMOPOLITAN CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE — 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 MERCHANT — A NEW COMER'S IMPRESSIONS — LIVING TOO PAST — 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 IN NEW YORK — THE RICH AND THE MIDDLE CLASSES — NEW YORK AS A PLACE OF RESIDENCE — ATTACHMENT OF THE PEOPLE TO THE CITY 5I CHAPTER in. THE GROWTH OF NEW YORK. RAPID GROWTH OF NEW YORK DURING THE PAST THIRTY-FIVE YEARS — THE FLUSH TIMES AFTER THE WAR — EFFECTS OF THE PANIC OF 1S73 — A MOMENTARY CHECK — RETURN OF PROS- PERITY — PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE — INCREASE IN BUILDING OPF.RATIONS — 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 HENCE — A GRAND DESTINY 65 CHAPTER IV. TPIE HARBOR OF NEW YORK, NATURAL ADVANTAGES OF THE HARBOR — THE OUTER AND INNER BAYS — EXCURSIONS — A TRIP 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 88 vii Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. SANDY HOOK. DESCRIPTION OP " THE HOOK " — A NOTED LANDMARK — A SANDY WASTE — THE COVE — THE BEACH — THE LIGHT-SHIPS— THE LIFE SAVING STATION — SANDY HOOK LIGHTHOUSE — ITS HISTORY — 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 SYRENS — THE TELEGRAPH STATION I04 CHAPTER VI. THE NEVERSINK HIGHLANDS. SITUATION OF THE HIGHLANDS — THE SHREWSBURY RIVER — RED BANK — ORIGIN OF THE NAME 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 LAND. II3 CHAPTER VII. MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT. ORGANIZATION OF THE CITY GOVERNMENT — THE MAYOR AND BOARD OF ALDERMEN— THE COM- MISSIONERS — DESCRIPTION OF THE VARIOUS MUNICIPAL DEPARTMENTS— POWERS OF OFFI- CIALS — THECOURTS — POLICE JUSTICES — THE 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 — MULHOOLYISM IN NEW YORK — AN INSIDE VIEW OF MUNICIPAL POLITICS — THE SLAVE OF THE RING — LOOKING OUT FOR THE " BOYS " — THE INTERESTS OF THE CITY NEGLECTED — THE POPULAR WILL DEFIED BY THE RING. I18 CHAPTER VIII. BROADWAY. BARLY HISTORT OF BROADWAY — UNDER THE DUTCH AND ENGLISH RULE— PRIMITIVE NAME OP THE STREET — IT COMMENCES TO GROW — THE GREAT FIRE OF 1776 — 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 UY NIGHT — 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 — 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. I34 CHAPTER IX. THE BROADWAY STAGES. POPULARITY OF THIS MODE OF CONVEYANCE — A CHEAP PLEASURE—DESCRIPTION OF THE VARI- OUS 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 PHOTOGRAPHED — SUFFERINGS OF THE DRIVERS — UPS AND DOWNS OF THE CRAFT— THE MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 157 CONTENTS. IX CHAPTER X. THE FIFTH AVENUE. FIFTH AVENUE THE CENTRE OP FASHION AND WEALTH — DESCRIPTION OP THE STREET — A GRAND PANORAMA — LOWER FIFTH AVENUE — ENCROACHMENTS OF BUSINESS — FOURTEENTH STREET — THE " SWALLOW TAIL" DEMOCRACY — AMONG THE PIANO MAKERS — CHICKKKING 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 MANSIONS — 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 GLITTERS." l6s CHAPTER XL THE ELEVATED RAILROADS. INCON^'ENIENCES OF OLD-STYLE TRAVEL — PLANS FOR RAPID TRANSIT — THE FIRST ELEVATED RAILROAD — THE PRESENT SY'STEM — 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 OF THE UPPER PART OF THE CITY — A RIDE ON THE ELEVATED RAILROADS — THE NIGHT TRAINS —FROM THE BATTERY TO HARLEM BY NIGHT I78 CHAPTER Xn. SOCIETY. THE VARIOUS CLASSES OP SOCIETY — THE BEST OP ALL — THE "OLD KNICKERBOCKERS" — A HEAVY SET OF SWELLS — RICHES AND CULTURE COMBINED— THE NEWLY RICH — THE CONTROLLING ELEMENT — HOW SHODDY GETS INTO SOCIETY — THE POWER OF MONEY — FASHIONABLE SNOB- BERY — FROM THE TENEMENT HOUSE 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- TONS SOMETIMES COME OUT OF THEIR CLOSETS— FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES — HOW THEY ARE GIVEN — INVITATIONS — BALL ROOM SCENES — THE SUPPERS — A SWELL CONVERSATION — FASHIONABLE THIEVES — AN ARISTOCRATIC SNEAK THIEF — HOW A BROKER KEPT HIS PLACE 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 — ONLY THE RICH CAN AFFORD TO DIB IN NEW YORK — COST OF A FASHIONABLE FUNERAL — INTERESTING DETAILS I95 CHAPTER Xni. 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 RAIL- WAYS — DISCOMFORTS OF THE STREET CARS — THE CONDUCTORS AND DRIVERS — STORY OF A conductor's lot — HARD WORK AND POOR PAY — KNOCKING DOWN — HOW IT IS DONE — BEAT- ING THE BELL-PUNCH. 238 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIV. SIXTH AVENUE. RAPID ADVANCE OF SIXTH AVKNUE IN PROSPERITY-DESCRIPTION OF THE STREET-THE LOWER 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-TIIE 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-BYE ' - NO EFFORT MADE TO CHECK THE EVIL ^5° CHAPTER XV. COACHING DAY. MEMORIES OF BYGONE DAYS-STAGE COACHING IN FORMER YEARS-REVIVAL OF COACHING IN NEW YORK-COLONEL KANE'S ENTERPRISE-THE " TALLY HO "-A HANDSOME SUCCESS-SOCIETY ADOPTS COACHING AS THE" CORRECT THING "-THBCOACHING CLUB ORGANIZED-COACHING BAY— THE ANNUAL PARADE— A BRILLIANT SIGHT =5 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 THK GREAT HIGHWAY OF THE EAST SIDE— EIGHTH AVENUE THE SMALL TRADERS' PARADISE— THB SATURDAY NIGHT MARKET-TWENTY-THIRD AND FOURTEENTH STREETS-DISAPPEARANCE OP 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 2 5 CHAPTER XVII. DIVORCES WITHOUT PUBLICITY. OUEKR ADVERTISEMENTS-THK "DIVORCE RING "-ITS FIELD OF OPERATIONS-THE DIVORCE 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 PER CENT -SERVING A SUMMONS-A MOCKERY OF JUSTICE-POWER OF THE RING-TKE COURTS ... 201 AND BAR AFRAID TO BREAK IT UP CHAPTER XVIII. CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK. ^REPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS-HOLIDAY APPEARANCE OF THE CITV-STREET SCENES-BUSINESS BOOMING-SCENESINTHECITY BY NIGHT-A NOVEL SIGHT ON THE ELEVATED RAILROAD TRAINS-BUSY TIMES IN THE MARKETS-THE TURKEYS-TRINITY CHIMES-MIDNIGHT SER- VICES-CHRISTMAS DAY-HOW IT IS OBSERVED IN NEW YORK-CHRISTMAS WITH THE POOR. 29a CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER XIX. PUBLIC BUILDINGS. THE CITY HALL — THE GOVERNOR'S ROOM — THE COUNTY COURT HOUSE — REMINISCENCES OF THB " 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 — THB BARGE OFFICE — PASSING THROUGH THE CUSTOM HOUSE — CUSTOM HOUSE BROKERS — TAM- MANY HALL — THE TAMMANY SOCIETY — POLITICAL ORGANIZATION — "BOSS KELLY " — THE COOPER UNION — WORK OF THE INSTITUTION — THE BIBLE HOUSE — A GREAT WORK DONE — THE NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN — HOW THE SCHOOLS ARE CONDUCTED — ANNUAL EXHIBI- TIONS^THE YOUNG MEN's CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION BUILDING — THE LECTURE ROOM — A REFUGE FOR Y'OUNG MEN — THE GRAND CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPOT — INTERNAL ARRANGE- MENTS — THE CAR HOUSE — THE FOURTH AVENUE TUNNELS. 2(y6 CHAPTER XX. NEW YEAR'S CALLS. NEW York's great festal day — preparations for new year's day — the hair-dressers' 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 HEAD- ACHE — ladies' DAY. 320 CHAPTER XXI. AMONG THE BULLS AND BEARS OF WALL STREET. DESCRIPTION OF WALL STREET — VALUE OF REAL ESTATE — ENORMOUS RENTS — ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — TRANSACTIONS OF THE STREET — THE SCENE AT NOON — THE STOCK EXCHANGE — THE LONG ROOM — OUTSIDE DEALERS — THE REGULAR BOARD — HOW BUSINESS IS CONDUCTED IN THE EXCHANGE — THE VICE-PRESIDENT — RULES OF THE EXCHANGE — GOOD FAITH EXACTED OF ITS MEMBERS — THE GOVERNMENT BOARD — CHARACTERISTIC SCENES — THE VAULTS AND THEIR TREASURES — THE TELEGRAPH INSTRU- MENTS — THE "tickers" — LIFE OF A STOCK BROKER — SPORTS OF THE EXCHANGE — THE CLEARING HOUSE AND ITS OPERATIONS — CURBSTONE BROKERS — RECKLESS TRANSACTIONS — STOCK SPECULATIONS — BUY'ING 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 — ENORMOUS PROFITS — THE SWINDLE EXPOSED — A WARNING TO WOULD-BE SPECULATORS. 33O CHAPTER XXII. ALONG THE WHARVES. WRETCHED CHARACTER OF THE WHARVES— PLAN FOR A NEW SYSTEM— THE NORTH RIVER FRONT — THE RAILROAD PIERS — THE FERRY HOUSES — THE FOREIGN STEAMSHIPS — THE FLOATING PALACES OF THE HUDSON AND LONG ISLAND SOUND— THE BETHEL— THE BO.\T STORES— THE 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— SCENFS ALONG THE WHARVES— ACCIDENTS— THE RESCUE STATIONS— THE VOLUNTEER LIFE-SAVING CORPS — " NAN, THE LIFE SAVER." 36° Xll CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIII. POLICE. ORIGIN OF THE NEW YORK POLICE FORCE — THE OLD TIME POLICEMEN — "OLD HAYES — INCREASE OF CRIME — GEORGE W. MATSELL — THE FIRST REGULAR POLICE FORCE — OPPOSITION TO IT — THE METROPOLITAN POLICE JORCK ORGANIZED — THE MUNICIPAL POLICE — POLICE HEADQUARTERS — THE COMMISSIONERS — SUPERINTENDENT WALLING — ^THB SUBORDINATE 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 — FIGHTING A MOB — FEAR OF THE " LOCUSTS " — UNIFORM OF THE FORCE — HOW THE CITY IS PATROLLED — HOURS OF DUTY — A SINGULAR POLICEMAN — HOW PETE JOINED THE FORCE — HIS SERVICES — ARRESTS — THE STATION HOUSES — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS — THE " 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-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 LIFE — PROVISION FOR DISABLED POLICEMEN AND THEIR FAMILIES 368 CHAPTER XXIV. FERRIES. NEW York's only means of communication with the main land — number of ferries — THE ferry boats — CROSSING IN A FOG — ANNOYANCES OF FERRY TRAVEL — THE FERRY HOUSES — A MOONLIGHT RIDE ON A FERRY BOAT — A SUICIDE — ACCIDENTS. . . . 404 CHAPTER XXV. THE PRISONS OF NEW YORK. THE TOMBS — DESCRIPTION OF THE BUILDING — THE INTERIOR — THE "BRIDGE OF SlGHs" — PLACE OF EXECUTION — THE MALE PRISON — THE CELLS — THE WOMEN's PRISON — THE "bummers' hall" — THE 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 TOMES — " BLACK MARI.\ " — THE POLICE COURT — HOW PRISONERS ARE DISPOSED OF — THE COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS — THE "tomes shysters" — LUDLOW STREET JAIL — THE SHERIFF'S PRISON — IMPRISONMENT FOR DEBT — CAPTIVE MILITIAMEN — FEDERAL PRISONERS — EXTORTIONS PRACTICED UPON PRISONERS — HOW THE DEPUTY SHERIFFS BLEED THEIR VICTIMS 409 CHAPTER XXVI. PUBLIC SQUARES. THE BATTERY PARK — ITS HISTORY — THE BATTERY IN OLD TIMES — ITS PRESENT CONDITION — A DELIGHTFUL BREATHING PLACE — THE BARGE OFFICE — THE BOWLING GREEN — THE CITY HALL 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 — MORNINGSIDE PAEK— RIVERSIDE PARK. 422 CONTENTS. XUl CHAPTER XXVII. THE PAWNBROKERS AND THEIR WAYS. THE SIGN OF THE THREE BALLS— LAWS RESPECTING PAWNBROKERS— HOW LICENSES ARE ISSI'ED— DISREGARDOFTHELAWEYTHEPAWNBROKERS— SOURCES OF PROFIT— EXCESSIVE. INTEREST- STORAGE CHARGES— SALES OF UNREDEEMED GOODS— WHO ARE THE PAWNBROKERS- THE JEWS— A DISHONEST CLASS— SUCKING THE LIFE-BLOOD OF THE POOR— HOW CUSTOMERS ARE SWINDLED— CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN A PAWN SHOP— THE JEWs' ONE PER CENT.— AN INSIDE VIEW OF THE BUSINESS— DRUMMING UP CUSTOM 43^ CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CENTRAL PARK. PLANS FOR A GRAND PARK— CHOICE OF A SITE— THE PARK COMMISSION ORGANIZED— DTFFICUL- 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 OLD 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 THE 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 BELVEDERE— THE CROTON RESERVOIRS-THE UPPER PARK— 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. 440 CHAPTER XXIX. TRINITY CHURCH. 'OLD TRINITY"— THE THREE CHURCHES-DESCRIPTION OF TRINITY CHURCH-THE INTERIOR- THE ALTAR AND REREDOS-THE WINDOWS— THE SERVICES— FINE MUSIC— DAILY SIGHTS IN TRINITY-THE SPIRE-THB 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. PREVALENCE 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 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. 474 XIV CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXI. JAY GOULD. EARLY 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 XXXni. WILLIAM H. VANDERBILT. THE 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. PROFESSIONAL CRIMINALS — THEIR NUMBERS — THE THIEVES — SUPERINTENDENT WALLING's DE- 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. THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA — THE CREEDMOOR RANGE — THE GROUNDS — THE TARGETS— SHOOTING MATCHES — NATIONAL GUARD PRACTICE — AMATEUR MARKS- CHAPTER XXXVI. BAR-ROOMS. ARRESTS 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 EAR-ROOMS — THE ALL- NIGHT HOUSES — THE BUCKET-SHOPS — GREAT AMOUNT OF DRUNKENNESS — WOMEN AS DRINKERS — WHERE THEY GET THEIR LIQUOR. 530 CONTENTS. XV CHAPTER XXXVII. HENRY BERGH. THE FRIEND OF THE BRUTE CREATION-ESTABLISHMENT OF THE "SOCIETY FOR THE 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. TRAVEL AND TRAFFIC BETWEEN NEW YORK AND BROOKLYN-THE FERRIES-PLANS FOR A BRIDGE-THE WORK BEGUN-THE GREAT BRIDGE-THE TOWERS-THE BRIDGE PROPER -THE CENTRAL SPAN-THE CABLES-THE ANCHORAGES-THE APPROACHES-PLANS FOR 537 TRAVEL ACROSS THE BRIDGE CHAPTER XXXIX. GAMBLERS AND THEIR WAYS. LAW^ 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 THEV ARE CONDUCTED-POLICY DEALING-AN INSIDE VIEW OF THE 542 GAME 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. ... 55c • CHAPTER XLI. FASHIONABLE SHOPPING. FASHIONABLE STORES-HANDSOME GOODS-THE FIXED-PRICE SYSTEM-DETECTIVES ON THE WATCH— "STEWART'S"— ENORMOUS TRANSACTIONS THERE 55 CHAPTER XLH. TENEMENT HOUSES. DENSITY OF POPULATION IN NEW YORK-NUMBER OF TENEMENT HOUSES AND '^HABITANTS -CAUSES OF LIVING IN TENEMENT HOUSES-HIGH RENTS-HOMES OF THE WORKING CLASS-HOPES FOR THE FUTURE-VARIETIES OF TENEMENT HOUSES-A SPECIMEN^-' -^ :KING— RENTS OF APARTMENTS— EVILS OF THE SYSTEM. 559 CHAPTER XLIII. JERRY McAULEY's MISSION. WATER STREET-THE MISSION-ITS SUCCESS-JERRY m'aULEY-THE REFORMED ™"^™;; M'AULEY-THE PRAYER-MEETINGS-THE AUDIENCE-JERRY m'AULEY's METHODS-A SCE^E AT A PRAYER-MEBTING— A WONDERFUL WORK Xvi . CONTENTS. CHAPTER XLIV. METROPOLITAN AMUSEMENTS. THE PRINCIPAl. THEATRES— METROPOLITAN AUDIENCES— EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS THEATRE —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 duke's THEATRE— NEGRO MINSTRELS— CONCERTS— LECTURES. . . . . 57» 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— THE CHINESE MARTYR— A HOSPITAL FOR CATS SSl CHAPTER XLVI. THE METROPOLITAN PRESS. THE DAILY NEWSPAPERS— HOW THE LEADING JOURNALS ARE CONDUCTED— THE VARIOUS DE- PARTMENTS—PRINTING-HOUSE SQUARE— editors' SALARIES— THE " NEW YORK HERALD " THE HERALD OFFICE — JAMES GORDON BENNETT — CIRCULATION OF "THE HERALD " — THE TRIBUNE "THE TALL TOWER "—WHITELAW REID— PROFITS OF "THE TRIBUNE"— "THE TIMES," THE LEADING REPUBLICAN JOURNAL— " THE SUN," A LIVELY PAPER- CHARLES A. DANA— PROFITS OF "THE SUN "—THE EVENING PAPERS— WEEKLIES— MAGA- ZINES 59^ CHAPTER XLVII. THE FIRE DEPARTMENT. THE METROPOLITAN FIRE DEPARTMENT— FIREMAN'S HALL— THE BOARD OF FIRE COMMIS- SIONERS—DIVISIONS OF THE DEPARTMENT— THE FORCE— UNIFORM— THE ENGINE-HOUSES —INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS— THE ENGINES— THE HORSES— HOW THEY ARE TRAINED— THE SIGNAL TOWERS— THE ALARM BOXES— FIRE DISTRICTS— THE FORCE ON DUTY— SCENES AT A FIRE— THE INSURANCE PATROL AND ITS DUTIES— THE " FIRE DEPARTMENT RELIEF fund"— LIFE OF A NEW YORK FIREMAN— HEROIC DEEDS 602 CHAPTER XLVIII. HARRY hill's. THE BEST KNOWN DANCE-HOUSE IN NEW YORK— THE HALL— THE AUDIENCE— THE FEMALE VISITORS— THE PERFORMANCES— DANCING— HARRY HILL— THE MIDNIGHT HOUR— HARRY HILL ON DUTY '^ CHAPTER XLIX. JOHN KELLY. "BOSS KELLY"— BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE— EDUCATION— BEGINS LIFE AS A STONE-CUTTER- ENTERS POLITICAL LIFE— BECOMES AN ALDERMAN— ELECTED TO CONGRESS— HIS CAREER IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES — IS ELECTED SHERIFF — LOSS OF HIS FAMILY— CONTENTS. XVll ASSISTS IN OVERTHROWING THE T\VE*:D RING — LEADER OF TAMMANY HALL — APPOINTED COMPTROLLER — REMOVAL FROM OFFICE — PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. . . 6l6 CHAPTER L. RELIGION IN NEW YORK. NUMBER OF CHURCHES IN NEW YORK — VALUE OF CHURCH PROPERTY — THE DUTCH REFORMED CHURCH — THE EPISCOPALIANS — GRACE CHURCH — ST. THOMAS's — "THE LITTLE CHURCH AROUND THE CORNER " — THE LUTHERANS — THE PRESUYTERIANS — THE FIFTH AVENUE CHURCH — THE BAPTISTS — THE METHODISTS — ST. PAUL's CHURCH — THE CONGREGATIONAL- ISTS — THE QUAKERS — THE UNITARIANS — THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH — ST. STEPHEN'S — ST. Patrick's cathedral — the jews — the temple emanu-el — lower new vork des- titute OF CHURCHES — FASHIONABLE RELIGION — STRANGERS IN CHURCH — THE MUSIC — PROFESSIONAL SINGERS — A TENOR'S SENSATION — THE FIFTH AVENUE PROMENADE — PEW RENTS — CHURCH DEBTS — RECKLESS EXTRAVAGANCE. 62O CHAPTER LI. ALONG THE BOWERY. ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — CHEAP RETAIL SHOPS — BEER SALOONS — CONCERT HALLS — THE JEWS — THE BOWERY BECOMING GERMANIZED — THK BOW- ERY IN BY-GONE DAYS — THE " BOWERY BOY " — THE " BOWERY GIRl" — A. GORGEOUS CREA- TURE — SUNDAY IN THE BOWERY — NIGHT SCENES IN THE BOWERY^THE STREET-WALKERS — THE GERMAN BEER GARDENS — THE SHOOTING-GALLERIES — THE THEATRES. . 639 CHAPTER LIL NEW YORK HOTELS. GREAT NUMBER OF HOTELS IN NEW YORK — FIRST-CLASS HOTELS— THE AMERICAN AND EURO- PEAN PLANS — THE ASTOR HOUSE — THE ST. NICHOLAS — THE METROPOLITAN — THE GRAND CENTRAL — THE NEW YORK — THE FIFTH AVENUE — THE WINDSOR — OTHER HOTELS — INTE- RIOR ARRANGEMENTS — NIGHT SCENES — COST OF FURNISHING A HOTEL — DEAD BEATS — HOW THE DETECTIVES WATCH SUSPICIOUS CHARACTERS. 645 CHAPTER LHI. THE TRAMPS. NEW YORK THE PARADISE OF TRAMPS— WHO THEY ARE— THEIR MODE OF LIFE— WORTHLESS CHARACTERS— SLEEPING IN THE PARK— THE TRAMPs' ABLUTIONS— THE TRAMPS' LODGING- HOUSE — UNFORTUNATE WANDERERS 652 CHAPTER LIV. THE POST-OFFICE. THE MODEL POST-OFFICE OF THE UNION — THE BUILDING — THE POST-SFFICE PROPER — THE BOX AND STAMP DEPARTMENT — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS OF THE POST-OFFICE — BUSI- NESS OF THE OFFICE- HOW THE WORK IS CONDUCTED — DESPATCHING THE MAILS — "steamer day" — guicK work 656 XVlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER LV. CASTLE GARDEN. THE BUILDING — THE OLD FORT — EARLV HISTORY OF CASTLE GARDEN — BECOMES AN EMIGRANT DEPOT — ARRIVALS OF FOREIGN STEAMERS — LANDING THE EMIGRANTS — AVERAGE WEALTH OF THE NEW-COMERS — PASSING THE SURGEON — REGISTERING EMIGRANTS — INTERNAL AR- RANGEMENTS OF CASTLE GARDEN 66o CHAPTER LVI. THE MARKETS OF NEW YORK. THE MARKET-HOUSES — UNSIGHTLY STRUCTURES — THE MANHATTAN MARKET — SCENES IN THE MARKETS — NEW YORK's SOURCE OF SUPPLY — THE MORNING HOURS — SATURDAY-NIGHT MARKETS — THE OYSTER-SALOONS — FULTON MARKET — THE " CORNER GROCERIES." 663 CHAPTER LVII. THE CROTON WATER-WORKS. THE SOURCE OF NEW YORK's WATER SUPPLY — CROTON LAKE — THE CROTON AQUEDUCT — A WON- DERFUL WORK — THE HIGH BRIDGE — THE " HIGH SERVICE " SYSTEM — THE CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIRS — HOW THE WATER IS SUPPLIED TO THE CITY — ENORMOUS WASTE. . 667 NEW YORK BY SUNLIGHT AND GASLIGHT. CHAPTER L THE GREAT METROPOLIS. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK CITY— LOCATION— NATURAL ADVANTAGES— COMMERCIAL ADVANTAGES— THE STREETS— EUILDINGS—CLIMATE—HEALTHFULNESS— MORTALITY— RAFID 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. 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 2 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 irregfular in formation, havino; 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 are 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 crreat 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 ereat 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 regular 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 reachinor an altitude of seven and eigrht, and some- times ten and twelve stories. The business edifices 3(3 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 Pans. It is a worthy rival to either, and is in many respects their superior. New York is highly favored as regards its clima... 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 hive said that New York combines the solidity of London with the beauty of Paris. Over it hangs a sky MORTALITY. 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 ficrure. The great infandle mortality occurs in the tenement districts. The largest number of deaths oc- cur from diarrhoeal disease. The Nczv 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 locadon 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 acre. 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 litde 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 city has grown steadily, and has improved in a marked degree. One of the most not- able features of this growth is the iLpward 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 fifteen 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 each foot of real estate is held all over the island, and notably in the lower section of the city; but it has also been gready 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 sub-cellars, like those of New ARCHITECTURAL CHANGES. 41 York, are unknown. Old architects state that they can 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 Grifhth 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. Delaplame. 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 So 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. 44 NEW YORK. marble building at Nos. 50 and 52 Wall street, is now eighty feet high, while it measured only sixty a few years back ; while the Union Bank, at Pine and William streets, has had its height increased twenty feet. The MetropoHtan Bank, on the corner of Pine street, is a NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE. 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 make 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 UKANCE 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 Cordandt 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 SEWING MACHINE BUILDING. 48 NEW YORK. ground. Across the Square, on the corner of East 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 Sing-er 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-story houses TRIBUNE BUILDING. 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, STAATS-ZEITUNO BUILDING. Claflin's Warehouses, and others, have been omitted from this enumeration. These v/ere 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 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 busmess 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- ings, 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. POPULATION OF NEW YORK IN 1870— THE STATE CENSUS OF 1875— WHAT CH ANGES IT SHOWEIV- POPTJ- LATIQN IN 1880 — POPULATION AFFECTED BY THE IMPROVEMENTS IN THE LOWER PART OP THE CITY — THE MOST DENSELY SETTLED PART OF N£W YORK — THE FLOATING POPULATION — STRANGERS IN NEW VORKr— FOREIGN DISTRICTS — COSMOPOLITAN CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE — 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 MERCHANT — A NEW COMER'S IMPRESSIONS — LIVING TOO FAST — NO CHANCE FOR LAGGARDS — HOW SUCCESS IS WON — MERIT THE TEST — NKW 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 IN 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 91,1 66 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 i lOO less in 1875 than in 1870. In 1880 it had regained about 1 50 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 v/as 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 ACrUAL 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 York 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 regrilarity. 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 njillions 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 sections, 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 other, and having little communication with their neighbors. The people of New York represent every nation- ality 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 laro^er establishments but little is done after four o'clock, except at certain seasons. Durinof these seven or eiofht 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 56 NEW YORK. series of new and clear transactions. Merchants from other cities coming into these estabhshments 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 night, 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 dg 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 expression 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 5$ 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 arc 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, shrewd 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 upon 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 generous assistance to the sick and wounded of both armies. When Chicago was burned, the people of New York literally showered relief upon the afflicted citizens of the western Metropolis. It is enough for the o-reat city to hear the cry of distress, no matter from 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- n— ^-^» •»jir-^-' will, I think, 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 buildinf^s recently erected by Mr. Edward Clark, of sewino- 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, comprisino- 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 recendy 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 sdll, the bill provides that 5150.000 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 supreniacy, 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 tugf. When the Enorlish 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 Eng-lish 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. ment, 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, shifdng thence to lower Broadway, afterward occupying the streets runnine from that thoroug-hfare 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 apparendy 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 very 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- t^ressive northward extension of the buildinp: limits, will observe a remarkable fluctuation, similar to the irregular and spasmodic lines that indicate on a dia- gram the rise and fall of Qrold durino- 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 posiuon; but again Madison avenue takes up the race, and has now outstripped Fifth avenue. " These apparently capricious fluctuations arc 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. Bond street 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 Park, and has a 'jump- ing off' place at I02d street, into the Harlem flats, 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 large 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 Hebrew 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 la.vish 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 in 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 the 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 maenificent 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 will 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 teeming 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 Mornlngside 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 frradinsf had been done, arc found, in some instances, to run sewage 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 will exceed anything now conceived of. With the improve- ment of the Harlem River, soon to be accomplished, a cordon of business and second-class dwellings will be drawn closely around that side, w^hich 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 Batter)^ 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 indulcred 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- sary, if we are to go on and be shelved away in a continuous and interminable series of brown-stone boxes, the dimensions of which are growing less year by year, until they may finally become but little larger than 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 diis 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 drainage 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 ARCIIITFXTURE. 85 corners beran with the extension of biiildine 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 deoree. So also are the handsome mansions of the Astors, at 33d and 34th streets, on the same avenue, where the connectinof 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 inconorruitv 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 longr 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 I 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 elesjant homes that will do credit to their owners and will be ornaments to the city. 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 facilit)' 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 1 890, 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 strikin^'- 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 Eighth 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 v/ill 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 Conservator)' 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. NATURAL ADVANTAGES OF THE HARBOR — THE OUTER AND INNER BAYS — EXCURSIONS — A TRIf 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. 89 of and the marks upon their smoke stacks. Two or three are anchored in the river, havingr just come in from the ocean voyage, and are still dingy and dirty with the smoke and grime of travel. Further down 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 litde 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- insf 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. LP' 11 I FORTIFICATIONS 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 flao- 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 o-icrantic in size, beinir intended as a lio^ht- house as well as an ornament to the harbor. A writer in Scribiter s 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 figure, 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 fig^ures suesfest 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 ''iiSii 94 NEW YORK. means. For in this statue M. Bartholdi has applied his science to fine effect in getting the figure outUned 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 F"air. 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 Lone 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 Lone 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 in 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 from it seem innocent enough in this soft summer light. At the very entrance to the Narrows, and on a shoal 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 Bat- 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 g-uns 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. It mounts its channel-bearings o-uns en barbette. It is intended to supply quarters for the garrison and act as a keep or citadel for all the defensive works occupying 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 98 NEW YORK. to the casemates that heavy rifled guns could be mounted over them en barbette, 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 Quarantine. 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- worth 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. Vanderpoel, 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 durmg 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 ofhcer is required to satisfy himself that the sick in such cases will be taken care of for the voyage, and to 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 ^lo 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 accommodation 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 frequendy 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 to 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 pursuit of his investigations, and his labors were not ended until after eleven o'clock. During the gale, 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. 103 the side of the ship and make the necessary investio-a- 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 waves, 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. DESCRIPTION OF "THE HOOK " — A NOTED LANDMARK — A SANDY WASTE — THE COVE — THE BEACH THE LIGHT-SHIPS — THE LIFE SAVING STATION — SANDY HOOK LIGHTHOUSE — ITS HISTORY 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 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 the 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 swifdy clown the Inner Bay, through the Narrows, and out upon die 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 thickly 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 bricrht 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 of 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 lono- 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. 107 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 die 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 everyday, 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, 1762, 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 Yqung'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 orimnal four acres was confirmed by the British Government, and an act of George the Third, dated May 22d, 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 ^^48 7, 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 1764, 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 its 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. 109 more than fifty wrecks have occurred within sight of Sandy Hook Hght. " Here almost every object offers a suggesdon 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 EngHsh ship Clyde, and that one from the brig Prosper, 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 o-orcreous with orildinof, 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 New York. Near the end of the Hook is the unfinished fort, which guards the a^ichorage 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 looms 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 Hfe. Across Sandy Hook Bay are the picturesque Highlands of Neversink, with their trim Hghthouses, 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 swoop. 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 grrass 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. IH 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 buildin(T 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 oc- 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 the 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, coverlncr with its outworks eiohteen 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 battery, 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 tower 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. SITUATION OF THE HIGHLANDS — THE SHREWSBURY RIVER — RED BANK — ORIGIN OP THE NAME OF THE HIGHLANDS AS SEEN FROM THE SEA THE LIGHT-TOWERS — A MAGNIFICENT LIflHT — 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, which has already been described. On one side of it the waves of the Atlantic roll in white 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 New 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 their 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 verdure-clad hills known as the Neversink Hig-hlands. They extend along the coast for several miles, com- manding fine views of the Bay of New York and the 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 114: N^EW 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 frowning rocks or barren sands, he beholds noble hills clothed to their brows with green forests, fields, and meadows basking w^ith 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 somet'mes Navasink, again Navisink, at other times Ncvisink, 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 Neversmk, 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, but, 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 interesting, 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 an arched entrance, from which floats the flag 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 ho'rizon. 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 oi 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 l\Q 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, plungmg 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 smks down 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 genriy, 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, v;ith its tall lighthouse and the grim outline of the unfinished fort, are seen to the northward, seeming strangely 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 workingr the lieht. 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 OF THE CITY GOVERNMENT — THE MAYOR AND BOARD OF ALDERMEN — THE COM- MISSIONERS—DESCRIPTION OF THE VARIOUS MUNICIPAL DEPARTMENTS— POWERS OF OFFI- CIALS^THE COURTS — POLICE JUSTICES — THE 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 — MULHOOLYISM INNEWYORK — AN INSIDE VIEW OF MUNICIPAL POLITICS — THE SLAVE OF THE RING — LOOKING OUT FOR THE " BOYS " — THE INTERESTS OF THE 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 to 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 Finance. 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 the 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 office 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 the city with regard to their safety^ and to require all uns^Cfe 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 Official 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 Commissioner, 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 Hmits 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 $17,500), and the Superior Court and Court of Com.mon Pleas, with six judges each (salary $15,000). The justices and judges are elected for a term of fourteen years. The Surrogate, Recorder and City Judge (salary $15,000 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 FROM THE SLUMS TO CIVIL TOWER. 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 courts, 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 majority 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 ineetings 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 beine 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 ruling 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 implicidy, and without care of consequences. It controls the primary meedngs, the ward convendons, and even the greater polidcal 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 die diirteen colonies, undl diey 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 cides, 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 so conscious of its support as to be able even to defy the better elements of his own party, and strong enough 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 poHtical 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 apd 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 former 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 these 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 ^reat 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 advantaofe 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 party rules ; and {c) the judicious distribution of th(.' regularly-salaried offices in the various departments of the city government * * ; the various municipal, State, and national offices to which only perquisites and alhinde 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 v/illing 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- stances, and to yield implicit obedience to the orders of 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 triumphandy 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 political masters, and henceforth must think as they think, and act as they dictate. Now what is expected of him is simply this: that he shall use his official power to further the passage of all and any schemes 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 the beofinnincj. 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 alkmde profits 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 true 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 in 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 CTTy's INTERESTS. 133 Strength of the Irish vote, they laug-hed 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 VIIL BROADWAY. BARLY HISTORY OP BROADWAY — UNDER THE DUTCH AND HNGLISH RULH— PKJMrTIVE NAME OF 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 OP 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 — 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 €very phase of the wonderful progress of New York. Broadway was laid out as a street by the original BROADWAY IN OLD TIMES. 135 Dutch 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, where the portly " mynheers " turned out their cows to graze, 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 i 776 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 18 18 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 1832 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- 13G NEW YORK. have changed their character. Business lias 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 probabiHty is, therefore, that Broadway will retain its present width for all time. Through this narrow street pours an unending throng of vehicles of ever)' description, which fairly choke it, and cause it to re- sound with the thundering 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 occupadons to which the strancrer in New York can devote himself It requires considerable "leg power," for the distance is five eood miles, but the scene is so full of interest, and there is so much to divert one's thoughts 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 jli ' 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, waidng 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 beo-in 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 nei^jhborincf 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 heiofht, 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 is to facilitate the passage of travel and prevent such a blockade as we have described. "The outlook down Broadway from the Post Office is in all respects picturesque and impressive, and fills 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 buildings thickly studding the squares between the New York Evening Post Buildingand 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 years 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 cars, bringing down porters, mechanics and laborers as the vanguard of the great army whose tiironging bat- tahons 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, the only open space In this section of the cit}^ 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 generally 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 w^hole- 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 Biandreth 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 tlie 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- York. 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 MetropoHtan Hotel, in the centre of which is the handsome entrance to Niblo's Theatre, which Hes 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 city. Immedi- ately opposite is Harrigan & Hart's new theatre, the most attractive vaiiety 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 Fourth 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 v.ath 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 up town. At 14th street, a noble thoroughfare, stretching across the entire island from east to west, we reach Union 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 aeain 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 Hterary 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 i 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 buildings. The entire block on the w^est 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 of 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- v/est 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 rio-ht 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 F'ifth 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 eranlte 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, fronting on Broadway and Fifth avenue. Above this, and also frontlno- on both streets, is the famous restau- <_> rant of Delmonlco. 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 until the neighborhood of the NIGHT SCENES ON BROADWAY. 153 Park is reached, where immense blocks of "Apartment Houses" Hne 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 ever}^ 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 ;J^54 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 nev^r 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 t 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 suc- ceed in attracting the attention of a vicdm, 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 low 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 \^Q NEW YORK. his eyes open. The greatest scoundrels deal right alongside of the most reputable merchants. In one thino- onlydoes 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. POPULARITY OF THIS MODE OP CONVEYANCE — A CHEAP PLEASURE — DESCRIPTION OF THE VARI- OUS 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 PHOTOGRAPHED — SUFFERINGS OF THE DRIVERS — UPS AND DOWNS 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, oh 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 Avemie, running along Broadway from the South 158 NEW YORK. Ferry to 23d street, thence along that street to Ninth avenue, and up that avenue to 30th street. The Madison Avenue 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, fatio-uino- to ride in, and dano;er- 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 slo-hts, for the insio-nlfi- 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 KNUCKING 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 were 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, which is so placed that the driver can see whether 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 Qriven 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, wdio 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 ]^(30 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 Hne 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. IGl 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 1 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 staee averages ^3 more a day since they cut down to five cents. We used to take in ^6 or ^7, and now we count on from 1^9 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 1G2 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 years, and have witnessed all the changes along them for tlie 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- ward. They can tell you many an interesting tale of the 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- estincr Information concernlnor the localities throucrh o & o 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 dragf the coach into the stable in the midst of some wild winter storm, while the driver sits motionless on his box. The stable men 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 motto of the craft, and it would be a powerful inducement, indeed, that could cause him to surrender the reins 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 wagfes can avail him nothingf. 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. 105 CHAPTER X. THE FIFTH AVENUE. riFTH AVENUE THK CENTRE OF FASHION AND WEALTH— DESCRIPTION OF THE STREET— A GRAND PANORAMA— LOWER FIFTH AVENUE— ENCROACHMENTS OF BUSINESS— FOURTEEN rH STREET— THE " SWALLOW-TAIL" DEMOCRACY- AMONG THE PIANO MAKERS — CHICKERINc; HALL— CHURCHES— CLUBS AND ART GALLERIES— TWENTY-THIRD STREET— DELMONICO S— THE ASTOR RESIDENCES— STEWART'S MARBLE PALACE — A REGION OF BROWN STONE— UPI'EK FIFTH AVENUE — THE HOTELS — THE CATHEDRAL — THE VANDERBILT MANSIONS— ALONG THE CENTRAL PARK— THE LENOX LIBRARY — THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSIONS — HOMES OH WEALTH AND LUXURY — HOW THEY ARE FITTED UP — FIFTH AVENUE ON NEW YEAr's NIGHT LIFE 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 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 alone its course are mainly of brown- stone, though in the upper section, near the Central Park, marble and the ligrhter-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 die Cen- tral Park, after which it skirts the eastern side of the Park to 1 1 oth street. 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 buildings. 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 P'irst Presbyterian Church, equally handsome, and also of brownstone. Fourteenth street is a busy, bustling, thoroughfare at its intersection with the avenue, and here are a number of fashionable "Apartment Houses," LOWER FIFTH AVENUE. 1G7 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 rSth 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 34th 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. 169 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 the 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 l^Q NEW YORK. of the avenue, from 40th to 42d 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 45th 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 cosdy houses in the city. Opposite, on the north- west corner of 48th 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 pure 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), one 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 sidei, 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- stantly 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 othercities, 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 nesflisfence, 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 eithef 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 ot 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 (ew 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 orlare and the elitter 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. J^78 NEW YORK. CHAPTER XL THE ELEVATED RAILROADS. JNCONVENIENCES OF OLD.STV^E TRAVEI.-PI.ANS FOR RAPID TKANS,T-THE FIEST ELEVATED RAILROAD-THE PRESENT SVSTEM-THE METROPOLITAN AND NEW YORK ELEVATED ROADS- THE MANHATTAN COMPANY-DESCRIPTION OP THE ROADS-HOW THEY ARE BUILT-MODE OP OPERATIONS-STATIONS-EMPLOYEES-RAPID TRAINS-ADVANTAGES OF THE SYSTEM-ITS 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, Soudi 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 frorn 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 lines 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 ELEVATKD 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 die heavy iron castings, in which are the sockets for the recepdon 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 1 1 oth 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 over it seem to be running In mid air. Even the cool- 1^2 ^'^^^ 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 stadon 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 stadons are on the east side of the streets, and the down stations on the west side. Passengers purchase their dckets at the ofiice on entering the station, and drop them in a patent box m 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 Incrress 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 solid 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, alone the sidewalks on each side of the street, the middle of the street being thus unobstructed. 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 42d 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 vvho 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 1 30th 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 X86 NEW YORK. these and ride to the end of the route, at Peck Slip, near the Fukon 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 weath jr 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 averao-e 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. Durinof 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 struo^ohna- crowd, each indivl- 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 frequendy dragged some distance before they can be rescued from their perilous positions. The dense throngs on the narrow platforms of the stations afford a 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 it 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 inhabitants, 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 brovvnstone, 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 blocks from the City Hall and be whirled in half an hour up to looth street, than to walk 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 for attending evening amusements, for hearing good Sun- day sermons, and for getting easy access to the many attractions that the denizen of the Metropolis can enjoy, if he will, in his leisure hours. Already the Elevated Roads are beginning to affect the tenement houses, and many of the dwellers in these vast rooker- ies have moved up to Harlem and its vicinity, where they can obtain endre houses for a little more than the price paid for a few rooms in their former habitadons. 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 alone 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 offices, 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 JVew 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 thoroLKdi- fare, where the flare of light 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 edo-e — 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 nio-ht to blend into an instrumental discord that attunes itself fitly 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 ratde of the wheels drown- ing the noise, and only the darkened and apparendy 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. -j^92 NEW YORK. "The vehicle that will reduce the lateness of arrival by some minutes, and depreciate by a correspondmg percentao-e 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 anxions to brino- 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 crood specimen of the class— spry, saucy and mis- chfevous. 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-shuflle 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 active passage at words with the brakeman. made up the sum of the small boy's entertainment, when, in a charitable efibrt 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. 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 clown in the hollow, with only a fitful glimmer in some window- pane. Even the street lamps gleaming by the w'ay 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 o-oincr 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 2^94 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, th^n '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. THE VARIOUS CLASSES OF SOCIETY— THE BEST OF ALL— THE "OLD KNICKERBOCKERS"— A HEAVV SET OF SWELLS — RICHES AND CULTURE COMBINED — THE NEWLY RICH — THE CONTROLLING ELEMENT — HOW SHODDY GETS INTO SOCIETY — THE POWER OF MONEY — FASHIONABLE SNOB- BERY — FROM THE TENEMENT HOUSE 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 ETJSl- NESS— FASHIONABLE ENTERTAINMENTS— THE END OF EXTRAVAGANT CAREERS— THE SKELE- TONS SOMETIMES COME OUT OF THEIR CLOSETS— FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES— HOW THEY ARE GIVEN— INVITATIONS— BALL ROOM SCENES— THE SUPPERS— A SWELL CONVERSATION —FASHIONABLE THIEVES— AN ARISTOCRATIC SNEAK THIEF— HOW A BROKER KEPT HIS PLACE IN SOCIETY— A detective's EXPERIENCE IN FASHIONABLE LIFE— THE PRETTY VIIDOVJ 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— FASH lONAELE DEATH— ONLY THE RICH CAN AFFORD TO DIE IN NEW VORK— COST OF A FASHIONABLE 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 -j^9G 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-life is simple and at- tractive. In short, it may be said to be the savmg element of the society of the metropolis, and fortunately it is a o-rowing 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, orations and scientific entertain- ments which form so pleasant a feature of city life, 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 abilides, 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 Une of old, yellow "family portraits" to show, and it pressed for their pedigree, is there not a "college of heraldry" in the city to make one for them? The third class consists of those who ha^e inherited laro-e 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 constandy 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 arc 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 hieh 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 orio^in, 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 MacGuennesse. 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 errand 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 society 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 drapes, 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 struo-- 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 draped, such gorgeously bejeweled women as in New York. A recent writer, touching upon this topic says: — 204 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 socjet}'. 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 societ)'. 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, hov/ many balls sjj^ 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 ever)^ day in the year, or seven hundred and twent}". 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 Ars o-oods. 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 ^500 to ^1000; while a wedding dress may cost from <^iooo to $5000. Nice white Llama jackets can be had for ^60 ; robes princesse, 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 7iuit and robes de chambre, 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 tw^enty 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 other 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 enables 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 not 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 dollars worth of champagne alone. It is no uncom- mon' thing for an elaborate ball to cost from ten to fif- teen 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 afiford it; but the majority of the New York fashionables cannot stand the strain longf. As we have said, their wealth, HONOR SOLD FOR MONEY. 207 great though 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 startled 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. They 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,ooo 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- ling. Having decided to give a party, the hostess sum- mons fo 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 blanche 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 o-uests 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 litde 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 litde 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 faultlessly as the gentlemen guests, and m 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 flows 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 over. 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 starded 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 NewYork Tribune oi]\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.'— 'O'his 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 steaHng 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 ever}^ name upon the list of those present seemed to forbid the thought of suspicion. The affair was put into the hands of private detectives, who 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 ^looo, 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 property, 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 2X4 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 m 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 pardes 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 is 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 the public, and he would be handed over to the police. This letter had the desired effect, as the broker at once appointed a meeting with the detective, and, in the presence of one of the merchants whose residence he had robbed while enjoying his hospitality, made a clean breast of the entire matter. The broker, in telling his 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 jewelry he had sold for cash, and it was now impossible to 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 m.akes 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 6i st street issued c ards 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 Bowery, 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 g-awks 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 would 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 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 did. '"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 to see what her future movements would be like ; so when she made a motion to turn, I stepped closely back in the shadow of the landing. She brushed past me, and floated down the stairs like a silken sigh, I after her. " 'AH this liadn'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 sufficiendy in range of vision to see her beckon her coachman, who was, singularly enough, in 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 chloroformed 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. " ' If I hadn't been there the plan would have worked beautifully. The front door was opened for three rea- 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, any more than she was a real widow. They were man and wife, but he could work better as coachman.' '"Then this was their reo^ular 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, fioor and all, complete, running down to the curb, so that no wind or rain can penetrate it. The crowd of curious ragamufifins 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 way, 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 ofiice 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 fioor, 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 tlon 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 familiarity, 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 party here, composed of a different class of people, is, perhaps, not excepting beauty, Its most charming element ; it is the aggregate effect of the individual vivacity and piquancy of 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 delicious little 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 daughter's 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- riagfes are arranged with reo^ard to the amount of money on one or both sides. Men who have risen to wealth often make the marriage of a son or daughter 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 strono^er tie, in the marriaofe 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 liOW 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 brilliant 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 advantao-es 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 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, Hnd the cere- GUARDING THE BRIDAL PEZSENTS. •■tdSa iici.inj,:3»_;^- mony begins, Lie or^'S.n v" ■ with a low undertone oi The ceremony oven the brie; residence of ' : the two fi": gratula ■ i of th^ ent5 : ' ; . i" i purpose, house . : trusted alone w:. tective is ^ : ::\ Ye: dude: d-r 229 church returns to the --e friends of I -n <=i T-)t-f:»4;_ somcuines are m- hen rective 'entral anci ir. ^ r.z: loss t whom He is a y'- - ^ who wears a clothe ^: he is for ar -esents. ^ -ests from . ^ —it ect ■ves on /e W .L nee, ose hen app 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 am 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 udder threats of arrest, and scandals resulted. In others, FASHIONABLE WP:D1)ING Pi-ESENTS. 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 the 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 orof^nist 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, artd 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 first-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 lUNERALS. 233 are worth as much as $250, $300, and $400, or even more. A wooden casket, covered with cloth, costs 5^125. 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 ^i to ^12, includine eneravino-. 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 ^i 2 is charged for the use of the hearse, and the price of a carriage to Calvary Cemetery is ^6; to Greenwood, 5^7; 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 f,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 ^15 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 of 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 ^120, 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 receivino- 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 charo-e 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 ^25, 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 not wish to use an entire lot, may sell a portion of it, but 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. At 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 1^ 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 ^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 Quincy 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. !n the vicinity of New York there are monu- ments of Scotch granite which cost ^10,000, and a number of Quincy granite monuments varying in value from $500 to $20,000. The Cauda 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, vary 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, 8 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, - - - - 10 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 I Monument, home manufacture, of Ouincy granite, - - - goo 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. fHE PRESE>rr STREET-RA11.WAY SYSTEM — IMMENSE BUSINESS DONE BY THE SURFACE ROADS^ EXPENSES AND RECEIPTS — HOW THE ELEVATED ROADS HAVE AFFECTED THE HORSE RATL- WAYS — DISCOMFORTS OF THE STREET CARS — THE CONDCCTORS AND DRIVERS — STORY OF A conductor's UDT — HARD WORK AND POOR PAY — KNOCKING DOWN — HOW IT IS DONE — BEAT- ING THE BELL-PCNCH. 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 Ferr)-, three cents. Notwithstanding the enormous patronage of the Elevated roads, the surface railways are still liberally supported. Many people have a ner\-ous dread of the aerial structures of which New York is so proud, and remain faithful to the horse cars ; and for those who wish to ride short distances only, the surface roads are the most useful. Then, ao^ain, dur- ino- 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-d*me. 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 Office. Before the construction of the Elevated roads, the 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, the 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 rail- roads that travelers are not aware of. In addition to the wages of conductors and drivers, there is the out- lay for ofifices, clerks, watchmen, starters, switchmen, changers for changing the horses at the termini, fore- men 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, waste, 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 for 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 outlay 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 largfe numbers that are conofreofated 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 greatly reduced, but still all continue 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 tioor 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 w^ork 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 w^as renewed while waiting 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 depot, and any variation makes it all the more difh- A conductor's lot is not a happy one. 243 cult for us to run on time. Our clothes must 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, 1 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. 1 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 startinof 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 litde 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 sfot stuck on a five dollar note not lonof 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 niofht, 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 enougrh to run home and eet 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 on!)' 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 Httle 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, I 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 ol 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, putdng 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 off 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 thouo-h 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, josde the THE WOES OF A CONDUCTOR. 247 Other passengers, declare we do not give them the riirht chantre, and make themselves disasireeable o-en- 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 beats 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 coat-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 mosdy looked down upon." 248 NEW YORK. The practice of "knocking down" is carried on very extensively on the horse car Hnes, 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 ^i 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 oi 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 thinor." "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 $2> ^^ $4 ^ ^^Y 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. RAPID ADVANCE OP SIXTH AVENUE IN rROSPEKITV — DESCRIPTION OP THE STREET — THE LOWER PORTION — THE TENEMENT HOUSES — FRENCH FLATS — THE ELEVATED RAILROAD AND IIS STATIONS — A BUSY SCENE— SIXTH-AVENUE STORES — "MACEY's" — THE JEI'I'KRSON 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-BYE " — 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 ae^ain 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 " P>ench 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 42 d 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 SIKKET. When the darkness settles down over the city, and the lamps flare out along the street, and the broad rays 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 to 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 robbery 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, they 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 females, cannot venture on the street unless accom- panied by a male protector. Even then they are in constant 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 sittinor with two o-irls of the town, a handsome boy of about eighteen years. The rose of health is still on his cheek, and, al thou eh 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 niade. 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 Hfe 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,*sad 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 stand 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. MEMORIES OF BYGONE DAYS — STAGE COACHING IN FORMER YEARS — REVIVAL OP COACHING IN NEW YORK — COLONEL KANe's ENTERPRISE — THE " TALLY HO " — A HANDSOME SUCCESS — SOCIETY ADOPTS COACHING AS THE" CORRECT THING " — THECOACHING 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 pcssengers 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 tlie 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 with 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 Coaching 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 country. They carry passengers and parcels over the route at the regular coach fares, and as a rule manao^e 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 from 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- Court's Dam Bridge, over the Harlem River to the mainland, and from that point to Pelham Bridge, in Westchester County, 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 gende- THE COACHING CLUB, 261 men, representing the greatest wealth and the highest society of the city. Drawn by four magnihcent 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 thino-, 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 handlinor 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 " draof," 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 brio-ht and smiling faces. The fashionable vv^orld 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-draped 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 the prevaiHng 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 lone-drawn notes of the horns of the 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 of 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. 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 — THE 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. 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 ^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 thorouo-hfares. 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 Gramrriercy Park, which extends to 21st street, .but above that street the avenue extends in an unbroken line to the Harlem River. From 1 4th 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- THIRD AVENUE, 267 mercy Park is occupied by the residences of families of wealtli and fashion, but the upper part makes Httle 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 square, east and west of Fifth avenue, with palatial mansions, and are amoncr the ultra fashionable thoroucrhfares. 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 aofprreo-ate 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 thoroucrhfares. But saloons and tenement houses abound, and the upper portions of the houses are occupied by several families, each havlnor 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 smail 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 avenue 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 42 d 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 ^f horse cars, and TWENTY-THIRD STREET. 269 from about ii2th street to 155th, at the Harlem River, the middle of the street is occupied by the Metropoli- tan Elevated Railroad. Twenty-third and 1 4th 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 rnansions 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 fall to recogfnize it, so thor- ouo^hlv has it gfone 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 brinCT about this condition of thino^s ; 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 chanofes. 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, bocft-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 die 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 thorouofhfare. These beeears 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 go home m 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 proiessional 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 boundinpf alonof. Be- fore the lad had rubbed his sleepy eyes, the fine young gentleman was caught by the collar of his fur-lined ulster, 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 w^ith a severe and well merited rebuke from the officer. The policeman eyed the lad quietly for awhile, and then asked w^hat 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 oood, 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 rufhan 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. Struo^orlinor 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, and 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 lady 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 of 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 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 ri the oibberish of Victor Hugo's Con'i|)achin():;. ImU the comparative cpiietude of this lM)ard rcncUis it easier to lollow the courses of ihc lUAvkci, to dclcHt the shades ot dillercMici; in llu- ruiinin*;' oHers, and i^ener- ally to oc;t a clearer conception of this |)art of tlu- machinery of stock brokerage. In the basement b(Mieath the roou\ of the Govern- nuiii Koard is a larLi'e vault containing; 618 small safes, arranged in three tiers. Mach safe is a foot and a half s(jnare, and is rented by and of the broker, who deposits in it for safe keeiMUL^-, when the Board is not in session, a tin box containing- his l)onds and sci iiiiiies. It is said that the ai^o-reo-ate value of the ^.(•(■l^■iLies kept here is over two hundred millions of dollars, i'lie vault is ouarded day and ni<4"ht by four policemen spe cially detailed for that purpose. The telegraph has v(Ty greatly simplified the busi- ness of Wall street, and considerably lessened its expense in one respect. Prc^vlous to the introduction of the [)r(;sent system, the brokers were compelled to employ numbers of messengers to carry ik-vvs ol the transactions of the M\(hang(; to their olhcf's, and where time was of iinj)ortance large sums were spent in cab hire. The introduction of the Stock Tele^raj>h has changed all this. Iw('ry broker's o^fwc, all the |)rinci- pal hotels, rc^staurants, and bar room, now contain an automatic recording instrument, connectcxl by tele- graph wires with the instrmn(;nts in the various iioards 344 NEW YORK. at the Stock Exchange. The operator at the Exchange registers the quotations as they are made 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 w'here a recording instrument is located. Thus both time and money are saved by this ingenious invention. The life of a stock broker is one of constant excite- ment. 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 is 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,ooo,ooo. 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 belon 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 flae staffs rise alonof 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 11 I 1 1 NTRAL 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 aliofhtinof 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 diis 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 surroundino^ grrounds. 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 Hes west of the strait and the Bow Bridge. On the north side the shore rises up in steep bluffs ; on the south is the mao;nificent 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 bricrht moonlio-ht niaht 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 many fire-flies ; the air is musical with the dash of oars and the sound of vSCENES ON THE LAKE. 457 merr}^ 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 witghery of the scene around you. During the winter the Lake presents a gay and bril- liant sio-ht. The larofe 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 liorht 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 Ramble. This is one of the most charming pordons of the 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, 450 arbors on the Lake shore. At the upper end o£ 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 Hiofh Bridcre, 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 on foot. Immediately north of the Belvedere are the Croton 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. 4G0 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 orrounds, 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 METROFOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART. 461 At the east end are the Greek and Etruscan vases, with Kensington Museum reproductions at the west end. 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 collecdon, 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 glass. Here, too, are all the bronzes, Venetian glass, a 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 suc- cessfully removed from the vessel in which it made the voyage, conveyed from the river, and set up on its pres- 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 out of the quarries at Syene, in Upper Egypt, and its four THE U13KLWK. .r,i NEW YORK. sides are all covered with inscriptions in hieroglyphics cut into the stone. It was one of two obehsks erected in front of the Temple of the Sun. at HehopoUs (or On as it is termed in the Kble). a city ot Lower E5 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 8 ist 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 buildino- 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 litde to be desired. The collecdons are arranged in large halls, or in balconies running around them ; and .at each end of these halls is a large vesdbule, containing stairways and offices for the curator of the department to which the fioor is devoted. The entrance is at present at the south end. Each hall is 170 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 flet ; the upper story 22 feet; and the story in the mansard roof 16 feet. On the lower story, the desk cases, in 466 NEW YORK. the centre of the Jiall, 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 of 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 arranofement 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 me 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 public is admitted to the Museum free of charge on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. One of the problems presented to the engineers who laid 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-mentioned 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 masonr)-. The carriaofe 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 ^po NEW YORK. from the Park, are paved like the city streets, and are litrhted with gas at night. , , „f .u^ Hp The Central Park is under the contro of the De- partment of Public Parks, which has its headquarters r,Tunion Square. The board consists of four com- at 36 Union bquare. ^ ^_^j missioners, appomted for hve years d> j Board of Aldermen. The President of the Board ( Boara 01 r^ 46t;oo but the other receives an annual salary of $6500, d members are not paid for their services. The Lom "Jstners draw u'p and enforce the '^^'^J^ the government of the Park, and appomt the pol ce force to which the care of the grounds and the property r hem is entrusted. The Park police are uniformed, n gray, and have the powers of ordinao^ pohcemen^ Thir headquarters are at the Arsenal building. A poU^eman is on duty at each entrance, and others o | d.e force patrol the grounds, to prevent violations of Se rules,'to render assistance to pe-ns in need of t The rules for the government of visitors are ver) simpk They are forbidden to pluck the shrubberj- or aowt. to write upon or otherwise deface the seats, K'riHcres arches, or buildings, to feed the birds, or an 'Joyihe animal's, and to walk on the grass except m uch places as are marked by signs bearing the worf "Common." Every convenience - P™-ON-,TS OKGAN,ZATION-„OW AKMED-APPROPRIATIONS BV the CITV- PRIVATE liXPENSES-THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF - EFFICIENCY OK THE TROOPS-PAST SERVICES OF THE FORCE-OVERAWING THE MOB-PUTTING DOWN RIOTS-A REINFORCr MENT TO THE POLICE-DISCIPLINE-THE ARMORIES- THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY- 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 jusdy regarded with SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT ARMORY. pride by the citizens of the MetropoHs. The division numbers about 6,500 men, and consists of four bri- gades, which are divided into nine regiments of in- 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-offi.cio Commander-in-chief of the National Guard of New York, and may be called into 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: 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 7vill fue when the word is given. The police, on their part, are en- couraged by the knowledge that behind them stand tlie 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 military. 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. streng-th 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. ^^- i^^' 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 M/\N IN NEW YORK. 503 CHAPTER XXXIII. WILLIAM II. VANDERBILT. THE RICHEST MAN IN NEW YORK — EARLY LIFE — liRCOMES A FARMER — ENTERS THE RAILROAD WORLD — BECOMES VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE NEW YORK CENTRAL SYSTEM — SUCCEEDS THK 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 Staten 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 executive 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 execudve 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 DE- 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. 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. In 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 professional criminals, the following : — Women of ill-fame, about 500O ; 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, Vv^hich is based upon plunder, presents the spectacle of well known offenders going- unpunished by justice ; and is therefore so much en- couragement 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 populadon, 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 disdnct community ; they are known to each other, and seldom make any effort to associate with people of respectability. They infest certain secdons 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 thus 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, disrespectable 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 in 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 ; AiUiunn cove, a married man ; Autuimi cacklcr, a married woman ; Bag of nails, everything in confusion ; Balluni ranciim, a ball where all the damsels are thieves and prostitutes ; Barbar^i coast. Water street ; Bill of sale, a widow's weeds ; Booked, arrested ; Bingo wort, a drunken woman ; Brown stone, beer ; Cain and Abel, a table ; Cap-yoiir-lucky, to run away ; City College, the Tombs; Cofisolation, assassination ; Doxie, a girl ; Dratving, pocket picking ; Diu'ia, file ; Fa77iily man, a receiver of stolen goods ; Free, to steal ; Gilt, a crowbar ; Gilt- 510 NEW YORK. diibbei', a hotel thief ; Madge, private places ; Ned, a ten dollar gold piece ; Olive, the moon ; Plate of meat, a. street of a city ; Po7icess, 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 : 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 lar<^e 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 lUNKS ARE ROBRED. 511 his deposits in small amounts. He visits the place at different hours of the day, learns the habits of th(- 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 alfis 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 nois(\ 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 h& 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. One 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 o^et 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. 33 514 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 sr^iests. 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 sec 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, becrinnine 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' galleky. 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 operatewith 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 front 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 tliey 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 their 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 ancl 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 search 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 exploits 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 discharofed in liorhters. Pullinor 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 522 NEW YORK. boat two hundred bao^s of coffee, and, biddino; 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 eoods, knowinof 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 a fair fight, and slinks away from real danger. He is BLACKMAILERS AND THEIR VICTIMS. 525 often the proprietor of a panel-house, a pohcy-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" who 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 will 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, and he is certain to be bled as lone 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 X-^x?, 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 bring the police upon them. Men are their victims, and they rely upon their fears for success. THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION. o27 CHAPTER XXXV. CREEDMOOR. THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA-THE CREEDMOOR RANGE-THE GROUNDS -THE TARGETS-SHOOTING MATCHES-NATIONAL GUARD PRACTICE-AMATURE MARKS- MEN. The rifle rancre of the National Rifle Association of America is located at Creedmoor, a little village on Long Island, about thirteen miles from New Yorl:. 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 1200 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 proceeding-s are regu- lated by a fixed code of rules, a violation of which subjects the offender to a forfeiture of the privileges '■> LU.fn CREKDMOOR RIFLE RANGE. 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 die best marksmen on such occasions. The object of the Rifle Association is to improve the skill of its members in the use ot 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. 34 530 NEW YORK. CHAPTER XXXVI. BAR-ROOMS. ,NG CAPACITY OF WALL STREET A BAR-ROOMS-THE ALL- 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 smal oart of the vast number who daily pay tribute to the rar-rooms and rum-shops of New York. The Board of Excise licenses 2430 places where hquors are sold by the single glass or drink, or about one barroom to every six hundred inhabitants of the city. These represent every grade of drinking estabhshment from the magnificent Broadway saloon to the " gin-m 11 o he Bowery and Sixth avenue, and the " bucket-shops of Baxter street. All these places enjoy a greater or kss decree of prosperity, and the proprietors grow rch unless they cut short their lives by becoming hei'r own best customers. For alcoholic and malt iquors sold over the bar, hundreds of thousands o dollars are spent daily. It is -""-!'=^. *;' '^*^ vicinity of Wall street alone, 7500 drinks are taken ^32 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 dady 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 classes of his favorite beverage in twenty-four hours, and his American and other imitators follow closely in his footsteps, 1 /v . The laro-est bar in the world is that at the Astor House which transacts the bulk of its business be- tween ihe hours of nine a. m., and five p. m. Its receipts avera-e 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 $10,000 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 12,000 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 PRE- 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. Mr. 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 BETWEEN NEW YORK AND BROOKLYN — THE FERRIES — PLANS FOR A BRIDGE— THE WORK BEGUN— THE GREAT BRIDGE— THE TOWERS— THE BRIDGE PROPER —THE CENTRAL SPAN— THE CABLES — THE ANCHOEAGKS — THE APPROACHES — PLANS FOR 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. About 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 j)roviding 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 DESCRIPTION OF THE BRIDGE. 539 begun upon it in 1871. At the present time it is nearly completed, and will probably be open for traffic sometime during the year 1882. When com- pleted, it will be one of the grandest triumphs ever achieved by engineering skill, and will deservedly rank among the wonders of the modern world. Being so near completion, we may with propriety describe it as it will appear when opened to the public. The bridge is swung from two massive towers of granite, each of which rests upon a caisson sunk to the solid 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 di- minish in size as they ascend, until at the cornice they are 1 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, form- ing 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 Roose- velt 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 Elevated 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, 1595 feet long ; a span on each side from the tower to the an- 540 NEW YORK. chorage, 940 feet in length ; and the approaches — from the termini to the anchorages — the New York ap- proach being 1336 feet long, and the Brooklyn ap- proach 836 feet long. The entire structure is 6000 feet in length, and 85 feet in width, and includes a promenade of 13 feet, two railroad tracks and four waeon or horse-car tracks. Four immense cables of steel wire, each 1 6 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 COST OF THE BRIDGE. 541 within the blocks crossed and occupied. The streets are crossed by stone arches, at an elevation sufficient to leave them unobstructed. Lines of horse and steam cars will 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 will be made safely and speedily, and the passengers will be enabled to enjoy a grand view of the two cities and the neiQfhborine waters. The total cost of the bridge will be about ^15,000,- 000. It will undoubtedly prove a profitable enterprise, as it will enjoy an enormous patronage, which will in- crease from year to year. 542 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 1HK GAMB. The statutes of the State of New York denounce severe penalties against gambHng 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 political 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, 543 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 BROA^ , JLING 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 " skirf 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 pertaining 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 frequendy 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, sdll 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 leaeue 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 houses, and the majority, though several times raided by the police, still con- tinue to flourish. The "Day Houses" occupy the DAY GAMTLING 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. ^48 NEW YORK. One of the worst and most demoralizing forms of crambling is "pool selling." The pool business is conducted more or less openly, notwithstandmg that the laws of the State denounce severe punishments ao-ainst it The business is conducted by professional gamblers, and, though seemingly fair, is a swindle throuahout. 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- aaers 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 their 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 yotng 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 findine that their clerks and salesmen are recjular vis- itors to the pool rooms. Messenger boys, bootblacks, and others who earn only a few dollars a week, invest p all the money they can get hold of in buying pool tickets. 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 so 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 agahist 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 drawiuo- 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 oramblincf 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 POLICY PLAYING. 551 in the city, whose principal customers are negroes, sailors, and foreigners. The mazes of poHcy 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 or 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 " el^'/' and win from tiso 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 DARING UNDERTAKING — THE WORK BEGUN — ACCIDENTS— DESCKIPTION OF THE TUNNELS — 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 great 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 which 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 2 1 st of July, 1 880, 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 Httle over one mile, but with the approaches the entire length of the tunnels will be about two and a half miles. The tun- THE TIINNEL lINDIiK THE HUDSON RIVER. nels will adjoin each other, but will be separate and distinct pieces of workmanship, uniting, 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, im- FUTURE OF THE TUNNEL. 5o5 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 Nev/ York and the New Jersey shore. 556 NEW YORK. CHAPTER XLI. FASHIONABLE SHOPPING. FASHIONABLE STORES — HANDSOME GOODS — THE FIXED-PRICE SYSTEM — DETECTIVES ON THE 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 savincr them the fatiofue of climbinof the stairs. Each floor 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 amonof the chief ornaments of the city. The most 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, upholstery, &c. ; the third floor is devoted to carpets ; and the other floors 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 caiv 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 ^15,000 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 CIT\' 559 CHAPTER XLII. TENEMENT HOUSES. DENSITY OP 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 — CLOSE 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 twenty or more families. The averas^e 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 25 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 560 NEW YORK. of a separate house, and working-men, 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 ^looo 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 'niiini'ifiiin 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 buildinof, 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 flat roof. The windows on the sides open into the alleys and receive the poisonous gases which arise from them. Water is laid on each floor. The apartments for a family consist of a kitchen, which is also the livino- or sittinof-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 cookinor-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 buildinor we have described is not an ex- -,6 562 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- trastinor the area of these cities with that of the wards named above, the reader will be able to form som.e 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 tcMiement 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 live almost in common. THE HOME OF VICE AND CRIME. 5G3 CHAPTER XLIII. JERRY McAULEY's MISSION. ■WATER STREET — THE MISSION^ITS SULCKSS — JEKKV m'aULEY — THE REFORMED THIEF — MRS. M'AtlLEY — THE PRAYER-MEETINGS — THE AUDIENCE — JERKY m'auLEY's METHODS — A SCENE AT A PRAYER-MEETING A WONDERFUL WORK. In one of the vilest sections of Water street, right under the shadow of the anchorajre of the ^reat 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 oG4 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 thanksgiving — 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, 1S72, the place, THE REFORMED RIVER PIRATE. 5Go 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 orood work. Their meetino^s were well attended ; 5Q6 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 aQ^encies, who have never been in a place of prayer, or heard the Bible read except by the JERRY S PRAYER MEEIINGS. 5G7 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'aULKY. The meetings are held in the chapel, w^hich 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 r)(38 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 orivino- 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 he 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 Mc-AULEY 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- tle 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 erows strong-erand fuller. The sinmnof over, a roucjh, 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. Jerry'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 theii and thei^e. 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. THE PRINCIPAL THEATRES — METROPOLITAN AUDIENCES — EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS THEATRE — SALARIES OF ACTORS — PRODUCTION OF NEW M-AYS — LONG RUNS — " BOOTh's " THEATRK A MODEL ESTABLISHMENT — THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE — "wALLACk's" — "THE UNION square" — " DALY's " — THE ACADEMY OF MUSIC — VARIETY THEATRES — THE GRAND duke'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 city. 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 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 miUion 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 them, but is ever ready to encouraee and reward true merit. To become a favorite on the New York stage is to win a proud po- sition in the 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 ;^ioo a week is a large 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 with 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 enables 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 beinof amonof 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. 576 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 THK GKAND OPERA HOUSE- 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 Boiiffe. 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 excellence the theatre 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. Th^ 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 MetropoHs. 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 well-known dramatist. It is devoted to the sensational school, and ranks amonof 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 in 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 starding 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 foodights consist of six kerosene lamps with glass shades. Two red- plush lounges, stuffed with saw-dust, and in a sad state of dilapidadon, 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-cork 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 BEiiR — DRUNKENNESS IN " RAGPICK- ERS' ROW " — BOTTLE ALLEY — A RELIC OF THE FIVE POINTS — A WRETCHED QUARTER — THE DWELLINGS OK POVERTY — THE CELLARS — LIFE BELOW GROUND^BAXTER STREET — THE CHINESE MARTYR — 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 ot the city, and in the shanties in the unsetded 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 cooking-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 litde 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 litde she earned barely sufficed to keep a roof over their heads. Litde 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. " Botde 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, pile 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 t.HlNESl. QUARTFR. 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 partly 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 Boloo^na sausao-e 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 ;'! Jiifi'l! !lfl| I 'I ■ a 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 bafi^e description. The inmates are hud- dled together in disregard of cleanliness 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 frightfully 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 of 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 estabhsh a dis- tinct quarter here. In other portions of the city are Chinese laundries, where the almond-eyed Celestials conduct the business of washingr and ironinsf 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 amonof their customers. One of the greatest curiosities in New York is the *' Hospital for Cats." It is located at No. i 70 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 rentingr 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 afe hungry and in dis- tress, or who have strayed away from their homes, are brought here, and are kindly received 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 nestle in her arms. She prepares their food with her own hands, and care- fully ministers to all their wants. 592 NEW YORK. CHAPTER XLVI. THE METROPOLITAN PRESS. THE DAILY NEWSPAPERS — HOW THE LEADING JOURNALS ARE CONDUCTED — THE VARIOUS DE- PARTMENTS — PRINTING-HOUSE SQUARE — EDITORS* SALARIES — THE "NEW YORK HERALD" — THE HERALD OFFICE — JAMES GORDON BENNETT — CIRCULATION OP "THE HERALD" — THE TRIBUNE "THE TALL TOWER " — WHITELAW REID — PROFITS OF "THE TRIBUNE" — " THE TIMES," THE LEADING REPUBLICAN JOURNAL — " THE SUN," A LIVELY PAPER — CHARLES A. DANA — PROFITS OF " THE SUN " — THE EVENING PAPERS — WEEKLIES — MAGA- ZINES. The daily newspapers of New York stand at the head of the American press. There are 1 2 leading daily morning papers ; 7 leading daily newspapers ; 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 Zeitmig in German, and the Courier des Etats Unis 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 prompdy 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 posidon 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 monetary 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 brlnof 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 ever}'' 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 whole 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 Printino-- House Square, as the triangular place 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 Neiv York Herald. It Is the wealthiest and most prosperous journal In the country, and Is the private property of Mr. James Gordon Bennett, who was carefully trained by his 596 NEW YORK. father, the founder of the paper, as his successor. The story of The Herald is famiHar to every reader, and we need not repeat it here. It is a noble monu- ment to the energy, enterprise, and abihty 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 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 Herald's 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 estaolishment, 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- sen-ts 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 year, 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 discipHnarian. 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. TJie Times occupies a handsome building at the in- tersection of Park Row and Nassau street, and stands opposite TJie Tribune. It is the leading Republican journal of New York, and was 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 Prlnt- 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 informadon. 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 T. Beach, about thirty 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, THE EVENING MAIL BUILDING. 1 /~ 1 1 and are very profitable. The principal are The Post, The Express, The Mail, The Telegram, and The Graphic. Tlie Post is re- THE EVENING PAPERS. 601 garded as the " solldest " 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 Hei'ald. 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 religiou-s, literary, scientific, art, and mechanical journals of the country. These are fairly prosperous as a rule, and are scattered broadcast throughout the land. The maorazines are numerous, and are devoted to all o subjects. Harper s and The Cejitury, formerly Scrib- ners, stand at the head of the list of literary journals. 602 NEW YORK. CHAPTER XLVII. THE FIRE DEPARTMENT. THE METROPOLITAN FIRE DEPARTMENT — FIREMAN's HALL — THE BOARD OF FIRE COMMIS- SIONERS — DIVISIONS OP THE DEPARTMENT — THE FORCE — UNIFORM— THE ENGINE-HOUSES — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS — THE ENGINES — THE HORSES — HOW THEY ARE TRAINED^ THE SIGNAL TOWERS — THE ALARM BOXES — FIRE DISTRICTS— THE FORCE ON DUTY — SCENES AT A FIRE — THE INSURANCE PATROL AND ITS DUTIES — THE " FIRE DEPARTMENT RELIEF FUND "—LIFE OF A NEW YORK FIREMAN — HEROIC DEEDS. The Metropolitan Fire Department has its head- quarters at No. 155 Mercer street, in the old building known as " Fireman's Hall." It is under the control of three Commissioners, appointed by the Mayor and the Board of Aldermen, for a period of six years. The President of the Board of Commissioners receives an annual salary of $7500, and the others $5000 each. The Commissioners appoint the officers and members of the force, make and enforce the rules for their government, and are responsible for the good behavior and efficiency of the department. The Fire Department is divided into three bureaux, as follows: — ist. The Bureau for Preventingr and Ex- tinguishing Fires, under the charge of the Chief of the Fire Department, who receives an annual salary of ^4700 ; 2d. The Bureau for the Enforcement of the Laws Relatinor to the Storage and Sale of Com- bustibles, the head of which is the Inspector of Com- bustibles, whose salary is $2500 per annum; 3d. The Bureau for the Investigation of the Origin and Cause ORGANIZATION OF THE FORCE. G03 of Fires, at the head of which is the Fire Marshal, with a salary of $2500 a year. The force consists of a chief engineer, an assistant engineer, 10 district engineers, and 850 officers and men, of whom over 700 are constantly on active duty. There are employed in the service of the department 42 steam fire-engines, 4 chemical engines, and 18 hook and ladder trucks. These are quartered in hand- some and conveniently arranged engine-houses dis- tributed throughout the city. Each company consists of a foreman, assistant foreman, an engineer of the steamer, a stoker, a driver, and 7 firemen. The men are carefully picked for the service, and are subjected to rigid examinations, for the purpose of ascertaining their physical and moral conditions. They are re- quired to be free from vicious habits, which would im- pair their usefulness to the force, and must come well recommended by citizens of known respectability. As a rule, they are fine-looking, hardy fellows, and take pride in maintaining the high reputation and efficiency of the department. They are uniformed in dark-blue cloth, with flannel shirts of the same color. The but- tons and metal trimmino-s of the dress are silver. When off duty they wear a cloth cap of peculiar shape, but on duty the head-gear consists of the usual stout leather fireman's hat. The officers of the force receive liberal salaries, and the men are paid $1200 a year, and furnished with quarters. All are required to give their entire time to the service, and no member is permitted to engage in any outside employment. A certain number are always kept on duty at each engine-house. Leaves 604 NEW YORK. of absence are granted at stated periods, but an alarm of fire at once terminates the leave, and summons the fireman back to duty. In such a case he must pro- ceed at once to the fire, if it is one to which his com- pany is summoned, or to the engine-house if the fire is out of his district. A watch is kept at the engine- house, day and night, and detachments of the force are required to patrol their districts regularly to look out for fires. The most rigid discipline is maintained, and the force is ever on the alert and ready to move to the scene of danger at a moment's warning. Each fire company is provided with a handsome and conveniently-arranged engine-house, so located as to be central to the district to which the company is assigned. These buildings are generally of brick, but some are of brownstone. The engine-house is pro- vided with an engine-room and a stable on the first floor; a basement, in which is placed the furnace by means of which the building is heated, and the water in the engine kept hot during cold weather. The upper floors contain the quarters of the officers and men, rooms for reading and study, a drill-room, library, etc. Every portion of the building is kept scrupulously clean and neat ; the floors and wood-work are fresh and free from dirt, and the glass- and metal -work are brightly polished. In the lower room is the telegraph instrument and the alarm-bell, over which a watch is kept at all times. All the members of the force must be present at ten o'clock at night, when, with the excep- tance of the watch, they are allowed to go to bed. They must make their preparations to be roused at THE STEAM FIRE-ENGINES. 605 any moment, and are allowed but a few seconds to dress when called up by an alarm. The steam-engines used by the department are made by the Amoskeag Manufacturing Company, of Manchester, New Hampshire, and cost the city about ^4000 a piece. They are of the second-class in size, are beautiful specimens of machinery, and are very powerful. One of the largest of these is propelled by steam, and was purchased by the city in 1873. It weighs about four tons, and is capable of propelling itself at the speed of a rapid trot. When standing in the house, the boilers of the engines are kept supplied with water and steam from a heater in the basement, at a pressure of about seventy pounds per square inch. The fireplace is kept charged with kindling- wood and other combustibles, and it requires but one minute after the fire is lighted, which is done the instant the alarm is sounded, to raise steam enough for action, and to propel the large engine at a quick pace. The Chemical engines consist each of a pair of large cylinders, constructed on the plan of the Bab- cock Fire Extinguisher, mounted upon a handsome carriage, drawn by horses. These cylinders contain about 75 gallons of water each, and are capable of sustaining an internal pressure of 400 pounds per square inch. Each carriage is provided with a reel and several sections of hose, mounted in front of the cylinders and behind the driver's seat. When an alarm is sounded, a chemical engine is despatched to the scene in advance of the steamer, and often suc- ceeds in extincruishino- the flames before the arrival GOG NEW YORK. of the larger engine. In many instances, these self- actinof enorines have been used to orreat advantao-e in connection with the steamers. The department also employs a large and powerful float- ing-engine, placed on board of a steamboat. This is used for extin- guishing fires on vessels or on the wharves. When not on duty the steamboat lies near the Battery, in or- der to be able to move prompdy to any point in either river. Several en- gines are kept in reserve by the de- partment to re- place any that may break|down in ser- vice. These can be called out only by the chief engineer of the force. The Hook and Ladder Companiesare pro- vided with long trucks, steered by a wheel and gear at one end, for the conveyance of their ladders and TRAINED HORSES. G07 Other apparatus. They are quartered in houses simi- lar to those of the steamer companies, and are sub- ject to the same discipHne. There are about 200 horses attached to the depart- ment. These are large, powerful, and spirited animals, and are kept with the most scrupulous care. They are stabled in the engine-houses, and are groomed every day, and fed punctually at six o'clock, morning and evening. If not called out during the day, they are exercised in the streets near the engine-house. They are thoroughly trained to the work before them, and exhibit a high degree of intelligence. They are kept harnessed all the time, and an automatic attach- ment, connected with the fire-alarm gong, releases them from the stalls the moment the signal is struck. The instant they are free they back out from their stalls, trot to their places at the engine, truck, or wagon, and stand ready to be hitched. This requires but three seconds, and the noble animals exhibit the great- est impatience to be off the moment the harnessing is completed. As soon as an alarm is given all is excitement in the engine-houses. The men are roused from their sleep at night by the sharp strokes of the heavy gong, hastily don their clothes, and come rushing down the stairs to their places at the engine. The horses back out to their stations, are attached to the engine, the fires are lighted, the doors of the building are thrown open, and in fifteen seconds during the day, or in one minute at night, from the time the alarm is sounded, the steamer and the hose-carriage are in the street, and on a sharp gallop towards the fire. 608 NEW YORK. Seven lofty bell-towers are distributed throughout the city, and on the summit of each of these is placed a telegraph alarm connected with the central office, and in charge of a lookout. A sharp watch is kept over the city below by the lookouts. Being thor- oughly familiar with the various sections of the city, they can locate a fire with perfect accuracy, and, as soon as one is discovered, they telegraph the loca- tion to the central office, from which the alarm is re- peated to the engine-houses, each of which is con- nected with the central office and the police headquar- ters by a special telegraph line. For the purpose of communicating the alarms of fire promptly, 600 fire-alarm boxes are scattered throughout the city. Each box is attached to a tele- graph pole, or to the side of some building. The boxes are made of iron, are about 25 inches high, by 12 inches wide and 4 inches deep, and are pro- vided with an outer and an inner door of iron, securely locked. As the locks are of the same size and con- struction on all the boxes, one key will open any box throughout the city. Each member of the police force, the fire department, and the insurance patrol is pro- vided with a key, and a key is also deposited at a place adjacent to the alarm-box, and designated upon the box itself. All persons having keys are warned not to give an alarm unless absolutely certain there is a fire, and are forbidden to open the boxes except for the purpose of giving an alarm. They must securely lock the box after the signal is given, and must not give up their keys to any person save the proper authorities. Each box contains a telegraphic battery FIRE-ALARM BOXES. 609 and an alarm-bell. These are placed behind the inner door, which is never opened except when it becomes necessary to repeat the alarm. Between the outer and inner doors is an iron catch or handle, connected with the battery. In giving an alarm, the outer door of the box is opened, and the catch is pulled down firmly once. This works a spring, by means of which a wheel attached to the battery is set in motion, and sounds the number of the box upon the gong at the central office, from which it is telegraphed to the engine-houses. Should it be necessary to repeat the alarm, the inner door is opened, and the Morse key of the battery is struck ten times. A lock attachment to the box prevents the key from being withdrawn after the alarm is given except by the officer of the department The city is laid off in districts for fire purposes. Certain companies are assigned to each district, and are not permitted to move beyond their proper dis- tricts without orders from the chief engineer or the central oftice. When an alarm is sounded, about one- sixth of the force is sent to the fire ; a second alarm calls out another sixth, and so on until the force required is obtained. When on the way to a fire, only the driver, the engineer, assistant engineer, and stoker are permitted to ride on the engine. The rest of the men go on foot. The foreman runs ahead of his engine to clear the way for it, and the driver must follow, but not pass him. The engines have the right of way in the streets, and a free passage is made for them, even in the most crowded streets, with a rapid- ity that is sometimes astonishing. Fast driving, rac- 39 610 NEW YORK. ing, and improper conduct on the part of the men, in going to or coming from a fire, are sharply punished. Upon reaching the scene of the fire, the company at once proceed to connect their engine with a fire- phig, and get a stream of water on the flames as soon as possible. As soon as tlie chief engineer — who is required to be present at all fires — arrives, he takes command of the force present, and issues all orders. Thus discipline is maintained and all confusion avoided. The men are trained to their work, and go at it with coolness and deliberation, and without any unnecessary shouting or noise. Orders are given briefly, and are promptly obeyed. The reserve force of the nearest police-station is always sent to a fire, and this force at once takes possession of the streets, keeps back the crowd, prevents disturbance, and allows the firemen room to perform their duties. This arrangement also ensures the safety of the property removed from the burning buildings to the streets. The life of a New York fireman is a hard one, and is full of danger. It not only requires the constant exercise of "the (greatest courage, coolness, and darine, but also imposes upon the fireman the greatest hard- ships. He is liable to be called up at any hour of the night, and after returning from a severe fire, worn out with fatigue, may be instantly summoned to another in a different section of the city. It sometimes hap- pens that for days the men are without either sleep or rest, and have scarcely time to partake of food. However great their fatigue and exhaustion may be, they must respond promptly to every call upon them. In the torrid heats of summer they drop at their posts LIFE OF A NEW YORK FIREMAN. 611 from sunstroke, and in the bitter winter weather suf- fer fearfully from the cold. Their hands and feet are sometimes frozen as they perform their duties, drenched through to the skin with the mercury below zero. They bear themselves gal- landy, however, and shrink from no exposure, no hardship, or dan- ger in the dis- charge of their duty. Scarcely a fire occurs but is made memo- rable by some heroic action by a member of the force. Now it is a child, a woman, or an aged per- son who is res- cued from some burninor buildino- at the imminent peril of the res- cuer's life; again, ^^"^ "^'^^^ fireman rescuing a child from the flames. a gallant fellow will dash into a smoke-enshrouded edi- fice m the hope of saving the lives imperilled within, only to lay down his own life as the price of his heroism. 612 NEW YORK. CHAPTER XLVIII. HARRY hill's. THE BEST KNOWN DANCE-HOUSE IN NEW YORK — THE HALL — THE AUDIENCE — THE FEMALE VISITORS — THE PERFORMANCES — DANCING — HARRY HILL — THE MIDNIGHT HOUR — HARRY HILL ON DUTY. At the corner of Houston and Mulberry streets is a singular-looking structure with a flashy entrance, in front of which hangs a huge colored lantern, on which is the name of the proprietor of the place. This is one of the most noted establishments in New York, the well known " Harry tiill's," a favorite resort of the " fancy," and the best kept dance-house in the city. The main entrance is for men, who are charged an admission fee of twenty-five cents, but close by is a private door for women, who are admitted free. Pass- ing in by the public entrance, you find yourself in a bar-room, at the further end of which is a stairway leading to the principal hall. The hall has grown with Harry Hill's prosperity, and consists really of a series of rooms which have been added from time to time, and are of different heights. At one end is the bar, from which liquors and refresh- ments are served, and at the other, is a stage, upon which low variety performances and sparring matches are given. The room is ablaze with light and heavy with tobacco smoke. Tables and chairs are scattered through it; there is a gallery at one side, and a wine- room opening from it. From eight o'clock until long 614 NEW YORK. after midnight the place is filled with a motley crowd. The women present are street-walkers ; the men represent all classes of society. Some are strangers who have merely come to see the place; others are out for a lark; and others still have come in company with, or to meet, some abandoned woman. The wo- men are generally in the flush of their prosperity, and are well dressed : the proprietor will not admit those who have sunk so low as to cease to be attractive. Some are handsome, but all bear the inevitable marks of their degraded calling. They drink heavily, for that is expected of them, their male friends paying the score. Among the men you will see prominent judges, city officials, detectives in plain clothes, men of prom- inence in other parts of the country, army and navy officers, merchants, roughs, and thieves. They join the women, drink with them, and too often accompany them to worse places. The performance on the stage is interspersed with dances in an open space in the hall, and a Punch and Judy show forms a popular feature of the evening's entertainment. Visitors are forbidden to smoke while dancing, and good order is enforced by the proprietor. Harry Hill keeps a watchful eye over the proceed- ings. He claims that his is a respectable establishment. He knows the character of his female guests, and the purposes for which the men come. Whatever may happen after a man leaves the place in company with a woman, he is careful that no crime shall be commit- ted in his house. If he sees a man whom he likes, or who he thinks may be of service to him, drinking heavily, he takes care of him, prevents him from fall- A "RESPECTABLE ESTABLISHMENT." 615 incr into the hands of a street- walker, and sends him to^is home or his hotel. He is a powerful, determined man, and acts as his own policeman, repressing dis- order, and ejecting all who pass the bounds of out- ward ' propriety. He has been in the business for over twenty years, and is said to be very wealthy. Those who profess to know, estimate the profits of his " respectable establishment " at over $50,000 a year. The place is most crowded, and business is briskest, from eleven o'clock until an hour or two after midnight. Men who do not danjce, are expected to spend con- siderable money in liquors and refreshments for them- selves and the women present. The performances on the stage are broad and coarse, and the songs sug- gestivet if not openly indecent. The liquors are wretched, and the drinkers soon fall under their influ- ence. Then Harry Hill is most watchful. He is all over the hall, checking a quarrel between women, re- minding men that swearing and noisy behavior are not permitted, and enforcing order with a heavy hand. After one o'clock the women begin to drop off, ac- companied by their male companions, who follow them to the panel-houses they frequent, and where the foolish victim is sure to be robbed of his money and valuables by the woman's confederate, and perhaps is beaten or murdered. Harry Hill well knows the danger these men will encounter, but he utters no warn- ing word. It is not his business to save men from the co'^nsequences of their folly, and so long as his " re- spectable establishment" is not the scene of disorder, violence, or crime, he is indifferent. 616 NEW YORK. CHAPTER XLIX. JOHN KELLY. "boss KELLY " — BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE — EDUCATION — BEGINS LIFE AS A STONE-CUTTER- ENTERS POLITICAL LIFE — BECOMES AN ALDERMAN — ELECTED TO CONGRESS — HIS CAREER IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES — IS ELECTED SHERIFF — LOSS OF HIS FAMILY — ASSISTS IN OVERTHROWING THE TWEED RING — LEADER OF TAMMANY HALL — APPOINTED COMPTROLLER — REMOVAL FROM OFFICE — PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. One of the most noted men in New York is John Kelly — or, as he is commonly called, "Boss Kelly" — the leader of the Tammany Hall Democracy of the Metropolis. He is credited by his friends with being- one of the most skilful political leaders in the country, and denounced by his enemies as the very embodi- ment of polidcal trickery and corruption. His friends are warmly devoted to him, and his enemies hate him with an intense bitterness. His sway over his partic- ular branch of the Democracy is absolute, and he can control its vote, and make or unmake political for- tunes with a power unsurpassed by that of any, old- world despot. Mr. Kelly is of Irish parentage, and is a native of the Fourth Ward, the classic region which produced his famous predecessor, " Boss Tweed." He received his preliminary education in the parochial school of St. Patrick's Cathedral, which he left at the age of twelve years. He subsequently attended the night schools established by the Board of Education, and displayed an ardent desire to obtain a liberal edu- cation. Upon leaving the Cathedral school, he was apprenticed to learn the trade of a grate-setter and THE TAMMANY BOSS. 617 soapstone-cutter, in which he became a proficient workman. He was a steady, resolute young man, without vicious habits, and exhibited a strong devo- tion to his widowed mother. In after years he edu- JOHN KELLY. cated his younger brother and established him in business, and extended similar assistance to his sis- ters, all of whom have become women of remarkable character. 618 NEW YORK. At an early day Mr. Kelly turned his attention to municipal politics, and, attaching himself to the Demo- cratic party, soon became one of its leaders. In 1853 he was elected a member of the Board of Aldermen, and in 1854 was elected to Congress, defeating the Hon. Mike Walsh, one of the most notorious politi- cians of his day. In 1854 he was reelected by an overwhelming majority, and received his famous title of " Honest John Kelly," an honor which his friends claim he richly deserves. He took an active part in -Congress, winning a good reputation as a debater and a hard-working member, and was regarded by his associates as a cool, clear-headed adviser in public affairs. Near the close. of his second Congressional term, he resigned his seat in the House of Repre- sentatives, and was elected Sheriff of New York by a large majority of the voters of the city. In 1865 he was reelected to the same position. He served both terms with credit to himself and fidelity to the city, making many friends among the Bench and Bar, and adding greatly to his popularity. During this period he was very prosperous in his business affairs, and won a handsome fortune ; but his life was saddened by the death of his wife in 1866, his only son in 1868, and his two daughters in 1870 and 1872. Thus left alone, his health gave way under the pressure of sor- row and care, and in 1869 he made a visit to Europe, remaining abroad nearly three years. Returning in 1 87 1, improved in health and spirits, he entered heart- ily into the reform campaign which resulted in the complete overthrow of the Tweed Ring. His services were rewarded by his selection by the Democracy as ArPOINTED COMPTROLLER. G19 the person most competent to reororanize the party ui the city on an honest and healthful basis. He accom- plished his task to the satisfaction of his political asso- ciates, and has ever since maintained his position as the leader of the Tammany Hall Democracy. He was subsequently appointed to the lucrative office of Comptroller of the city, from which he was recently removed for polidcal reasons by the Mayor. Mr. Kelly resides in an elegant mansion at the corner of Thirty-eighth street and Lexington avenue. He is in the prime of life, being in his fifty-ninth year. He is below the average height, with a stout, hardy frame, and a pleasant, intellectual, but unmistakably Irish face. He wears a full, but close-cut beard and mustache, of a reddish hue, with hair of the same color. Both beard and hair are now largely sprinkled with gray. He is earnest and impressive in manner, firm and decisive in character. Being a close student of books and men, he has accumulated a large fund of knowledge and experience. He is familiar with the French and German languages, has an extensive acquaintance with the standard literature of the age, and is a devoted student of political economy and pracdcal politics. He is rarely deceived in men, and is thoroughly independent in character. His enemies acquit him of having gained any portion of his large wealth by corrupt means. He has figured prominendy of late years in municipal. State, and nadonal politics, and is generally believed to have caused the elecdon of the late President Garfield by bringing about the defeat of General Hancock in New York, in the last presidential campaign. 620 NEW YORK. CHAPTER L. RELIGION IN NEW YORK. NUMBER OP CHURCHES IN NEW YORK — VALUE OP CHURCH PROPERTY — THE DUTCH REFORMED CHURCH — THE EPISCOPALIANS — GRACE CHURCH — ST. THOMAS's — "THE LITTLE CHURCH AROUND THE CORNER" — THE LUTHERANS — THE PRESBYTERIANS — THE FIFTH AVENUE CHURCH — THE BAPTISTS — THE METHODISTS — ST. PAUL's CHURCH — THE CONGREGATION.^L- ISTS — THE QUAKERS — THE UNITARIANS — THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH — ST. STEPHEN'S — .ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL — THE JEWS — THE TEMPLE EMANU-EL — LOWER NEW YORK DES- TITUTE OP CHURCHES — FASHIONABLE RELIGION — STRANGERS IN CHURCH — THE MUSIC — PROFESSIONAL SINGERS — A TENOr's SENSATION — THE FIFTH AVENUE PttOMENADE — PEW RENTS — CHURCH DEBTS — RECKLESS EXTRAVAGANCE. There are more than five hundred churches, chapels, and places used for religious worship in New York, with seating accommodations for about 600,000 people. These are divided among the Orthodox Protestant de- nominations, the Roman Catholics, Quakers, the Greek Church, and the Jews. Of these, the Protestant churches number nearly 450, the Catholics over 40, the Quakers 5, the Greek Church i, and the Jews 27. The total value of church property in the city is about as follows: Protestant, ^30,000,000, .exclusive of en- dowments ; Catholic, $8,000,000 ; Jews, $2,000,000 ; the Greek Church, $10,000. Apart from their church property, the various denominations own numerous schools, hospitals, and charitable and benevolent insti- tutions, which swell the value of their real estate to an enormous figure. It is of the churches, however, that we propose to treat here. The oldest denomination in the city is the Dutch Reformed. It was planted here by the first settlers of New Amsterdam, and the church records extend back, THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH. 021 unbroken, to 1639. The denomination is now very- strong, and possesses twenty-five churches and chapels. Several of these are located on Fifth avenue, and are among the handsomest in the city. The " Holland Church," at the corner of Fifth avenue and 29th street, is a fine edifice of Vermont marble, in the Romanesque style, and is surmounted by a tall spire, crowned with a gilt weather vane. The " Collegiate Church," at the corner of Fifth avenue and 48th street, is an imposing structure of brownstone, in the modernized Gothic style, and one of the most beautiful churches in the; city. Next in order of age is the Protestant Episcopal Church, the successor of the Church of England, intro- duced into the city by the English when they obtained possession of the colony. It now possesses ninety- four churches and chapels, a general Theological Semi- nar)^ and a number of charitable and benevolent Insti- tutions, schools, etc. The principal church edifice is Trinity, which is described in another chapter. Grace Church, on Broadway, at the corner of loth street, is, next to Trinity, the wealthiest Episcopal Church in New York. It is a handsome Gothic structure, built of white granite, and occupies one of the best positions in the city. The interior is richly decorated, and the stained glass windows are very beautiful. There are two organs in the church, connected by electricity, an arranofement which enables the orQ^anist to use either or both from a single key board. The music is very fine, the choir being made up of celebrated professional vocalists. The Rector, Dr. Potter, is one of the most eloquent and effective pulpit orators in the Metropolis, 022 NEW YORK. and large congreg-ations assemble to hear him. At the morning service a greater display of wealth and fashion is presented here than at any other city church. Grace Church has been the scene of more fashion- able weddings and funerals than any other place of wor- ship. Until about a year ago these cere- monies were presided over by the famous Sexton Brov/n, per- haps the most noted man connected with the parish. He was a REV. HENRY C. POTTER, D.D. shrewd, long-headed fellow, this same Brown, and knew more of New York society than any man of his day. The congregation have sadly missed him. Peace to his ashes. St. Thomas's Church, at the corner of Fifth avenue and 53d street, ranks next to Grace, as a fashionable place of worship. It is very massive, and is built of brownstone, in a m.ixed style of architecture, in which the early English predominates. Its tower contains a fine chime of bells. 'The interior is extremely beauti- ful, though somewhat dark, and is decorated with superb frescoes by John La Farge and sculptures by A. St. Gauden. There are two organs, connected by electricity, and the music, which is among the best in the city, is under the direction of the famous organist, George WilHam Warren. St. Thomas's is rapidly sur- passing Grace Church in the number of its fashionable weddings and funerals, and is noted for the wealth and magnificent display of its congregation. St, Bartholomew's and the Holy Trinity, which almost face each other on Madison avenue, the former being at the corner of 44th street, and the latter at the corner of 42d street, are beautiful edifices, and are sumptuously fitted up and decorated internally. The Church of the Heavenly Rest, on Fifth avenue, near the Windsor Hotel, is handsomely decorated with frescoes. Over the street entrance stand four im- mense angels sounding trumpets. One of the most noted Episcopal places of worship is the Church of the Transfiguration, on 29th street, east of Fifth avenue. It is popularly known as "The Little Church Around the Corner," It is a pretty, rambling sort of structure, built of brownstone, beautifully orna- mented and decorated within, and of a size that by no means merits the popular title given it. A pretty churchyard, shaded by fine trees and laid off with o-reen sward lies between the church and the street, and luxuriant vines clamber over the edifice, giving to the place a charming rural aspect. The congregation is a very fashionable one, and the services are con- ducted upon an elaborate scale. The popular name of the church originated in this way: Some years ago, Mr. George Holland, an old and popular actor, died in New York, and his friends made application to the Rector of the Church of the Atonement, in Madison avenue, to conduct the funeral services in that church. 624 NEW YORK. They were met with a point-blank refusal, but at the same time the Rector intimated that there was "a little church around the corner, where they sometimes held funeral services for actors." Joseph Jefferson, who was one of the parties making this request, exclaimed, impulsively, "Then God bless the little church around the corner, say I." Application was made to the Rector of "the little church," and the funeral services were held there. Since then, several actors have been buried from it. The church-ofoine members of the dramatic profession attend it, and contribute liberally to its support. St. Augustine's Chapel, in Houston street, east of the Bowery, is a part of Trinity Parish. It is built of brownstone, in the Gothic style, and its steeple is sur- mounted by a crystal cross, which on Sunday and special nights is illumined by gas jets placed within it, and can be seen shining out high over the dark city, a blessed symbol of hope and cheer. The other prominent Episcopal churches are St. George's, Ascension, Calvary, St. Paul's, St. John's, Trinity Chapel, and St. Peter's. The Lutheran Church ranks third in the order of age. The city contained many members of this faith at the time of its capture by the English, and by 1 702 they had grown strong enough to build their first church. They are now numerous, and constitute a very wealthy body, possessing twenty-one churches. The Presbyterians organized their first society in 1 71 6, and for three years were allowed by the author- ities to worship in the Town Hall. Previous to this they were subjected to a petty persecution by the THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH. 625 Established Church, one of their ministers being fined, in 1707, for exercising- the functions of his office, and were obhged to meet in private houses. In 1719 tlie first Presbyterian church was built, in Wall street near Broadway. At present they constitute one of the strongest and weal- th! est denomina- tions in the city, and besides a number of noble benevo- lent and charitable institutions, own ninety-four church- es, divided among the various branch- es of the denomina- tion, as follows: Presbyterian proper, seventy ; United Presbyte- rian, eight; Re- formed Presbyterian, seven ; Congregationalist, nine. The Fifth avenue Presbyterian Church, at the corner of Fifth avenue and 55th street, is the largest and finest Presbyterian Church in the city. It is built of brown- stone, in the French Gothic style, and its tower is the highest in New York. The interior is very beautiful, and is elaborately and magnificently decorated. The floor slopes from the entrance to the pulpit, giving to every seat a commanding view of the preacher. The church cost over a million of dollars, and is paid for. The congregation is large and enormously wealthy, 40 REV. JOHN HALL, D.D. 626 NEW YORK. numbering more bank presidents and insurance men than any similar body in the Union. The pastor is the Rev. Dr. John Hall, one of the most gifted pulpit orators of the day. He is a man of gigantic frame, great scholarship, and wonderful capacity for work. He hates sensationalism, and gives the people plain and practical sermons. The church is always crowded when he preaches. Like the Presbyte- rians the Baptists had to contend with per- secution in their ef- forts to establish themselves in New York. They were treated with great harshness by the civil authorities and the Established Church, and were often oblieed to immerse their converts by night, to avoid arrest. It was not until 1725 that they erected their first church, in what is now Gold street. Since then they have grown and pros- pered, and are now very numerous and wealthy, hav- ing fifty churches in the city. The First Church, in East 39th street, is a wealthy organization, with a hand- some edifice. The Fifth avenue Baptist Church, in West 46th street, is the leading church of this denomi- nation, and possesses the best arranged church edi- RBV. THOMAS ARMITAGE, D.D. THE METHODIST CHURCH. 627 fice and the wealthiest congregation. The pastor is the Rev. Dr. Thomas Armitao^e, one of the most learn- ed and eloquent divines of the Baptist faith. The Methodists rank among the oldest denomina- tions in the city, having been organized in 1766, by Philip Embury, a local preacher from Ireland, who held religious services in his own house, in what is now Park Place. Only half a dozen persons at- tended his first ministrations, but the society grew rapidly, and in 1768 the Methodists erected their first church, in John street, which venerable edifice is still standing. Since then their growth has been rapid, and they now have sixty churches and chapels, with a mem- bership of about 20,000, and church property valued at several millions. The principal church is St. Paul's, at the corner of Fourth avenue and 2 2d street. It is a fine structure of white marble, in the Roman- esque style, with a Rectory adjoining it, of the same material. Both buildings were ^ the gift of the late Daniel Drew to the church. KKV. W. M. TAYLOB, D.D. The Congregationalists have been included among the Presbyterians, in speaking of that body. They 628 NEW YORK. have nine churches, the principal of which is the Taber- nacle, at the corner of Sixth avenue and 34th street. It is a handsome brownstone building, and is under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. W. M. Taylor, an elo- quent divine. The Friends or Quakers, came into the city at a very early day. They built their first meeting house in 1703, and at present own five places of worship, besides other valuable property. The Unitarians built their first church in 1819. They* now have five churches. The principal are "All Souls," on Fourth avenue, just above Union Square, and the Church of the Messiah, at the corner of Park avenue and 34th street. The latter is under the charge of the Rev. Robert Coll- yer, formerly of Chicago, one of the most brilliant pul- pit orators of this or any other coun- try. The Roman Catholic Church is the strongest in the o city, in point of numbers, its strength lying in the vast Irish and other foreign popu- lations of New York. The first church of this denomination stood on the site of the present St. Peter's, at the corner of Bar- RBV. ROBERT COLLYBR. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 629 clay and Church street, and was built in 1786. In 181 5 St. Patrick's Cathedral, at the corner of Mott and Prince streets, was built, and was the Cathedral of the diocese until the completion of the new Cathedral, on Fifth ave- nue. At present the wealth of the Church in New York is very great. There are fifty-five Catholic Churches and chapels in the city, besides a number of benevolent and charitable institutions, schools, etc. The Church authorities have been unusually fortunate in their purchases of real estate, w4iich have largely increased in value, and besides this have received con- stant and liberal assistance in the shape of grants of money from the city. Though the great body of Roman Catholics in New York consists of their poorer and more wretched classes, the church includes among its membership a large class of wealthy and cultivated citizens and their families. Almost the only churches in the poorer and more crowded sections of the city are Catholic, and this immense field is being cultivated by them with an energy and zeal well worthy of imitation. A number of the churches are located in the most desirable por- tions of the city, and are attended by wealthy and fash- ionable congregations. They are very handsome, and the music is exquisite. The most fashionable church, as well as one of the most beautiful, is St. Stephen's, on 28th street, between Third and Lexington avenues, and extending through the block to 29th street. The interior is beautifully decorated with frescoes, and the altar, of pure white marble, is one of the most magnifi- cent in the Union. The altar-piece, representing the Crucifixion, is a noble work of art, and the music the 630 NEW YORK. best in the city.* The church will seat 4000 people, and is always crowded. Father McGlynn, the rector, is one of the most gifted pulpit orators in the city. The new St. Patrick's Cathedral is the grandest church edifice in America. It occupies the entire square bounded by Fifth and Madison avenues, and 50th and 51st streets, and stands on the highest and most commanding site on the avenue. It was begun by Archbishop Hughes, in 1858, and was dedicated by the Cardinal Archbishop McCloskey, on the 25th of May, 1879. The foundations of the Cathedral rest upon a bed of solid rock,- in which excavations therefor had to be made. The first course is of Maine granite, dressed with the chisel, and from this springs a pure Gothic superstructure, similar in architecture to the style adopted in Europe during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The building is three hundred and thirty- two feet in length, one hundred and thirty-two feet broad in the nave and choir, and one hundred and seventy-four feet broad at the transepts. It is con- structed of white marble, from the Pleasantville quar- ries, in Westchester County. Like the Cathedrals at Amiens, Rouen, and Cologne, St. Patrick's is free from heaviness and over-ornamentation. The Fifth ave- nue front consists of a central gable, one hundred and fifty-six feet in height, with towers and spires. The design of the grand portal contemplates the statues of the twelve apostles to be placed within it. The interior of the Cathedral is as fine as its exterior. The massive columns which support the roof are of white stone, thirty-five feet in height, and clustered, having a com- ST. Patrick's cathedral. 631 bined diameter of five feet. The ceiling is groined, with richly moulded ribs and foliated bosses. The springing line of the ceiling is seventy-seven feet from the floor. The organ gallery is in the nave, between the towers. The high altar is forty feet high, and the table was constructed in Italy, of the purest marble, and inlaid with semi-precious stones. The bas-reliefs on the panels have for their subjects the Divine Pas- sion. The tabernacle over the altar is of white mar- ble, decorated with Roman mosaics and precious stones, and with a door of gilt bronze. The altar of the Blessed Virgin is at the eastern end of the north side aisle of the Sanctuary, and is of carved French walnut. The Sacristry is placed in the east of the south aisle of the Sanctuary, and St. Joseph's altar, of bronze and mosaic, is in front of it. The altar of the Sacred Heart ' is of bronze. The Cardinal's throne is on the gospel (light) side of the altar, and is of Gothic design. The altar of the Holy Family is of white Tennessee mar- ble, and the reredos of Caen stone ; over the altar hangs a painting of the Holy Family, by Costazzini. The Cathedral is lighted by seventy windows, thirty- seven of which are memorial windows. They were mainly made at Chartres, France, cost about ^100,000, and were presented by parishes and individuals in va- rious parts of the country. The total cost of the Ca- thedral, up to the present time, has been a litde over ^2,000,000. It is estimated that ^500,000 more will be needed to complete it. The exterior of the building is to be richly orna- mented with statues. Two towers are yet to be built at the northern and southern anHes of the Fifth ave- O ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL. THE TEMPLE EMANU-EL. G33 nue front. They will be three hundred and twenty- eight feet in height, from the ground to the summit of the cross on each. For a distance of one hundred and thirty-six feet from the ground they will be square In shape, after which they will assume the form of oc- tagonal lanterns for fifty-four feet more, and above these will soar beautiful spires for a further distance of one hundred and thirty-eight feet. The towers and spires will be adorned with buttresses, niches contain- ing statues, and pinnacles, which will conceal the change from the square to the octagon. The Jews have been In New York since the earliest days of the colony, and among the Dutch settlers found tolerance and protection. They have multiplied rap- idly, and now constitute one of the largest and wealth- iest classes in the city. They have twenty-seven syna- gogues, and own several large and well-supported in- stitutions for the relief of the unfortunate of their own faith. They have two splendid synagogues on Lexing- ton avenue, but their principal place of worship is the Temple Emanu-el, at the corner of Fifth avenue and 43d street. This is one of the most magnificent struc- tures in New York, and the noblest specimen of Sara- cenic architecture on the Western Continent. It Is built of brown and yellow sandstone, with the roof of alternate lines of red and black tiles. The centre of the fagade on Fifth avenue, containing the main en- trance, is flanked by two minarets, beautifully carv^ed in open work. Five large doors lead into the vesti- bule, from which one passes into the interior, which Is a rich mass of Oriental coloring. Very few churches are to be found in the lower part 634 NEW YORK. of the city, almost all being located above Canal street. Trinity, St. Paul's, and one or two others, are all that supply the religious wants of the dwellers in this sec- tion. One ward in this region, containing 30,000 people, has not a single place of worship in it, with the exception of a Chinese Joss house, which is kept, by its votaries, in the background. The morning services at the various churches, especially at the more fashionable temples, brings out a goodly crowd of worshipers, and it is difficult to obtain a seat. At the fashionable churches the lady members of the congregations have a bad habit of wait- ing until the services have begun before putting in an appearance. Then they sail up the aisles, to their softly cushioned pews, arrayed in all the finery to which they have devoted so much attention during the past week. These late entrances disturb the worshipers, but they enable the ladies to show off their toilets, and that, after all, is what the churches are for, so far as they are concerned. Strangers are expected to stand in the aisles near the door, and wait until the sexton can show them to seats. A certain fashionable sexton is said to have derived quite a snug income from the "tips" bestowed upon him by visitors wishing to obtain eligible seats. A good story is told of a certain high- toned church. A gentleman had been standing in the main aisle during the greater part of the service, vainly waiting for the sexton to show him to a seat. At last, finding the process tiresome, he leaned over, and, in a whisper, asked the occupant of a pew in which there were several vacant seats, "What church is this?" "Christ's," was the whispered reply. "Is He at home, A FASHIONABLE TENOR'S SENSATION. 635 to-day?" asked the stranger. The pew owner took the hint, and rising, asked the inquirer into his pew. The music at the fashionable churches is superb. The organist is a professor of high reputation, and tlie choir is made up of professional singers, who devote themselves to concerts and public amusements on secular days. In some of the highest toned temples you will find among the male singers persons whom you may have seen at some of the variety or concert halls during the week. The "Music Committee" ask only for good voices, and do not trouble themselves about the daily lives of the choristers. When the sermon begins the choir curtains are drawn, and the singers, who are not employed to listen to the sermon, seek rest from their fatigues in flirting or reading, or compose themselves for a peaceful nap. Not many years ago, the tenor of one of the best choirs in the city was also the popular singer in a Bowery "Free and Easy." He had a magnificent voice, and his secular engagements were constant and profitable, often keeping him in the concert halls all through Saturday night, and until the small hours of Sunday morning. The tenor, unfortimately, had a weakness for his glass, and it was a constant wonder to his friends that he contrived to get his head clear enough by church time on Sunday morning to take his place in the choir of St. 's Church. For a long while, however, he managed to fill both engagements creditably, but at length misfortune overtook him. He had sung, with great eclat, at the "Free and Easy" on Saturday night, and had gotten through the morninor service at church, as far as the sermon, 636 NEW YORK. with equal credit. The eloquence of the preacher* lulled him into a profound slumber, and all through the sermon he was dreaming of the Bowery and the jolly crowd assembled to hear him render his great song of " Muldoon." The sermon over, he was roused from his dreams by a fellow member of the choir, who whispered that they were waiting for his solo. Still half asleep, and with his head yet full of the saloon and the applause awaiting him, he staggered to the choir rail, and looking about him, broke out, lustily: — " Come and see me, I'll trate ye dacent, I'll make ye drunk, I'll fill yer can ; Sure, when I walk the strate, Says each one I mate, There goes Muldoon ; he's a solid man." The reader may picture to himself the sensation the tenor's solo produced in the church. It is the custom for church goers on Sunday morn- ing to promenade Fifth avenue after service. At such times the street is uncomfortably crowded, but the dis- play of fashionable costumes is worth seeing. On Easter Sunday, if the weather be fine, the ladies are out in all the glory of new toilets, one of the most in- exorable laws of fashion requiring such displays. Then the Fifth avenue temples pour out vast throngs of these magnificently dressed creatures, and the crowd is heavily reinforced by the congregations of churches not on the avenue, all bent on seeing and being seen. The churches are supported mainly by the money received from the rents of the pews. Few persons not connected with some fashionable place of worship can form any idea of the amount of money spent in this way. The annual rental of some pews is equal to the CHURCH DEBTS. 637 house rent of a family of moderate means. The in- come derived from the pews is obtained in various ways in the different churches. In some, nearly all the pews are sold, and the owners pay a certain percentage of the valuation annually ; in others, pews are sold at auc- tion, to the highest bidder; but most of the churches have an annual rental of the pews. In the fashionable churches the rents run from $500 to $700, and in some even higher rents are demanded. Many of the leading churches of the city are heavily encumbered with debt. Some time since the New York Tribune published a list of some fifty odd churches, giving the amount of the mortgage resting upon each. These mortgages ran from ^9000 to ^471,000, and none were registered prior to 1869. They footed up a grand total of nearly two million and a half dollars. The recklessness with which the city churches rush into debt is appalling. No other class of real estate in New York is so heavily incumbered as that of its religious associations ; and this in spite of the fact that no sort of property has a more uncertain tenure of its income, the whole depending in a large measure on the popularity of the ministers in charge, and on the good will and prosperity of the members. Nearly the whole of the debts thus created is for the purpose of enlarg- ing the churches or constructing new ones. Scarcely any of the congregations go in debt for the purpose of increasing the minister's salary, or to enlarge the con- tributions to missionary funds or charitable enterprises. All is for show. Old fashioned, comfortable churches, free from debt, are torn down, or sold, and new edi- fices, rich and tosdy in every detail, are erected. A 638 NEW YORK. little money is advanced, the church is plastered over with mortgages, and the next generation is left to pay for the vanity of the present. Sometimes the mortgage is paid, but too often the reverse is the case. The mortgage is foreclosed, the beautiful temple is sold, and perhaps is converted into a theatre, concert hall, livery stable or factory. So handsome are the churches, as a rule, so con- spicuously do wealth and fashion thrust themselves forward on all sides, that the poor rarely seek them. They are too fine, and the pride of the honest poor man will not permit him to take his place in a house of worship where he is certain to be looked coldly upon and made to feel his lack of worldly goods. Fashion and wealth rule with iron hands, even in the house of God, and in these gorgeous temples the class who were nearest and dearest to the Master's heart have no place. THE OLD BOWERY. 639 CHAPTER LI. ALONG THE BOWERY. ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — CHEAP RETAIL SHOPS — BEER SALOONS— CONCERT HALLS — THE JEWS — THE BOWERY BECOMING GERMANIZED — THE BOW- ERY IN BY-GONE DAYS — THE " BOWERY BOY " — THE "bOWERY GIRL " — A GORGEOUS CREA- TURE — SUNDAY IN THE BOWERY — NIGHT SCENES IN THE BOWERY — THE STREBT-WALKERS — THE GERMAN BEER GARDENS — THE SHOOTING-GALLERIES — THE THEATRES. Next to Broadway, the Bowery is the most charac- teristic street in New York. It derives its name from the fact that, during the days of the Dutch, it was Hned with the " boweries " or farms of the early settlers, being at that time merely a country road. It com- mences at Chatham Square, and extends in a straight line to Eiofhth street, where the Third and Fourth ave- nues beein. But few buildinofs of note are to be found along its extent. These are the Thalia Theatre, for- merly known as ** The Old Bowery," the Windsor Theatre, the Bowery and Dry-Dock Savings Banks. The last building is an elegant structure of yellow sandstone, in the Gothic style of architecture. As a rule the houses on the Bowery are from two to three stories in height, and are plain and unattractive. They are devoted mainly to retail stores of the cheap order, one peculiarity of which is that about half the stock is displayed on the sidewalks. Soda fountains, pea- nut and fruit-stands impede the progress of the pas- sers-by at every step, and street-venders of all kinds hawk their wares along the entire course of the street. The Bowery is crowded day and night with a motley 640 NEW YORK. throng ; several lines of street-cars traverse It ; and the trains of the Elevated Railroad speed rapidly by overhead. The street is the paradise of beer saloons, 'KV.WVvK'iVa«'i'a^."a'>.. THE OLD BOWERY THEATRB. bar-rooms, concert and dance halls, cheap theatres, and low-class shows. The Jews are well represented in the retail stores, and seem to do well. The popula- THE BOWERY BOYS. 641 tion of the street is largely German, and at night and on holiday occasions the Bowery constitutes the favor- ite resort of the pleasure-seekers of this nationality. German restaurants, beer saloons and gardens, thea- tres and music halls, abound here ; the signs are Ger- man, and the dishes in the eating-houses the same. You may go for squares sometimes without hearing an English word spoken. Half a century ago the Bowery was the chosen haunt of the ruffian element of New York. It was shunned by respectable people, and given over to the " Bowery Boys," rowdy firemen, thieves, and women of doubtful or disreputable character. The " Bowery Boy " was an institution of Old New York, and lives yet in the memory of many of the veteran citizens. Chan- frau, the actor, has preserved a faithful picture of him in his " Mose." With his red shirt, stunning necktie, black pants carefully tucked into his boots, his coat on his arm, his tall hat, ornamented with a broad band of crape, set one-sided on his carefully soaped locks, and his face smooth shaven, he paraded the Bowery with the pride of a lord of the universe. His attire was simplicity itself, but of a striking kind. Jewelry he avoided as low and vulgar, his only ornament being a gold or brass figure representing the number of the fire " mersheen " with which he ran. This he wore in his shirt-front, and he regarded it with the fondest pride. He stood on his dignity, and it fared ill with the person who dared to insult him. A fight was his glory, and it must be confessed he bore himself gal- landy, and fought squarely. He was a rough, but not a bully ; he never made war upon women and 41 G42 NEW YORK. children, or took delight in breaking up a peaceful, picnic or dance, but was ever ready to defend the helpless, especially the fair sex. As a rule, he worked steadily at butchering or some other trade during the week, and paid his way as he went. His diversions were an evening at the Old Bowery Theatre, a run to a fire, or a fight, all of which were highly enjoyed. A dog-fight on the end of the wharves on Sunday morning was, perhaps, his greatest pleasure. He was devoted to his girl, and kept a jealous watch over her, and under his protection she was safe from insult or harm. The original " Bowery Girl " must have been made of a rib of the original " Bowery Boy," so exactly was she his counterpart. There was this difference, how- ever, between them. While he affected a severely simple style of dress, she loved to deck herself out in all the glories of dry-goods and millinery. A more gorgeous creature could not be found. Her janty bonnet, set rakishly on one side of her head, bloomed in all the colors of the rainbow; her short skirts showed the neatest-turned ankle and the trimmest little foot, with a perfectly marvellous stocking. And then her air — as, with parasol poised in one hand, the other arm swinging to the motion of her body, her dainty nose pointing upward, she passed at a quick gait pe- culiar to herself along the Bowery, or through Chat- ham square — it was the perfection of East Side poetry. No wonder that the " Bowery Boy " bowed down be- fore her, and worshipped. She was irresistible. Both are beings of the past. The bar-room loafer, the , THE BOWERY IN ITS GLORY. 643 sneak-thief, the red-faced bully, and the half-drunken street-walker have taken their places. The Sunday law is a dead letter in the Bowery. Beer saloons, rum-shops, concert and dance halls, are in full blast. The German element is out in force. The Atlantic Garden is thronged, and the clink of beer-glasses mingles sharply with the strains of the orchestra. The cheap clothing stores and the pawn- shops drive a thriving trade, and the vile dens of vice which line the lower part of the street are crowded with their wretched habitues. All along the street you hear the sharp crack of the rifles in the shooting- galleries. The sidewalks are full, the street cars are overcrowded, and the elevated trains are jammed. To see the Bowery in its glory, one must visit it at niM-it. It is a blaze of lig^ht from one end to the other. The saloons, theatres, concert halls, and " free-and- easys," are gayly ornamented with lamps of all colors, and the lig-hts of the street-venders oive to the side- walks the appearance of a general illumination. The concert halls are filled, and sounds of music and shouts of laughter float out from them into the street. Wretched transparencies mark the entrances to the low dives, in and out of which a steady throng pours. The pavements are full of abandoned women, boldly plying their trade, regardless of the police, who are out in force along the thoroughfare. Turn into any of the concert or dance halls, and you will find the majority of the company present young men and boys, and girls not out of their teens. The larger German music halls have the only respectable audiences to be found in the Bowery. To these the children of the 644 NEW YORK. Fatherland resort in great numbers to enjoy their beer and listen to the music. The husband and father takes his wife and family along with him, and the pleas- ure here is innocent and orderly. The shooting-gal- leries are a feature of the streets, and are brighdy lighted and open to the sidewalk. They are orna- mented with targets consisting of gaudily-painted fig- ures, and offer innumerable inducements to passers- by to try their skill. The theatres are brilliant with transparencies and illuminated glass signs, and are well filled with pleasure-seekers. The admission is cheap, and the performances adapted to the tastes of their patrons. Men and women in all stages of intox- ication stagger along the pavements, and here and there is a sturdy policeman with some offender in his crrasp, hastening on to the station-house. Vice offers every inducement to its votaries, and the devil's work is done nightly upon a grand scale in the Bowery. The horse-cars, with their colored lights and jingling bells, and the rapidly rushing elevated trains over- head, give an air of briskness to the street. The scene is gay and animated, but must be witnessed to be properly appreciated. THE FIRST-CLASS HOTELS, 645 CHAPTER LII. NEW YORK HOTELS. GREAT NUMBER OP HOTELS IN NEW YORK — FIRST-CLASS HOTELS — THE AMERICAN AND EURO- PEAN PLANS — THE ASTOR HOUSE — THE ST. NICHOLAS — THE METROPOLITAN — THE GRAND CENTRAL — THE NEW YORK — THE FIFTH AVENUE — THE WINDSOR — OTHER HOTELS — INTE- RIOR ARRANGEMENTS — NIGHT SCENES — COST OP FURNISHING A HOTEL — DEAD BEATS — HOW THE DETECTIVES WATCH SUSPICIOUS CHARACTERS. No city in the world surpasses New York in the number and excellence of its hotels. There are said to be about 700 hotels of all grades in the Metropolis, the majority of which do a profitable business, and some of which return large fortunes to their proprietors. The first-class hotels are magnificent structures of marble, brownstone, iron, or brick, and are ornaments to the streets in which they are situated. They are furnished in magnificent style, and provide every comfort and luxury for their guests at moderate charges. The assertion that the New York hotels are extortionate in their prices is untrue ; where the charires are hiorh the accommodations furnished are in keeping with the price. A stranger in the great city can consult his tastes and means in the choice of a "stopping-place," for there are hotels suited to every need. Almost every house has a number of permanent guests, and the proprietor is thus assured of a certain income ; while the vast throngs of stran- gers who daily enter and leave the city provide a tran- sient custom unequalled in its proportions in any city of the New World. 646 NEW YORK. The hotels are divided into two classes — those which are conducted on the American plan, in which the guest is provided with a room, lights, attendance, and a certain number of meals per day ; and those conducted on the European plan, where the charge is only for rooms, attendance, and lights, the guest tak- ing his meals a la carte in the hotel restaurant, or wherever he sees fit. Each class has its advocates, and each its advanta^jes. ST. NICHOLAS HOTEL. The Astor House is one of the oldest hotels in New York, and the only first-class house in the lower part of the city. It is conducted on the European plan, and is admirable in all its appointments. Its restau- rant is famous, and its lunch-counter furnishes meals to several thousand people every day. It does a prosperous business, and is very popular with visit- ors from New England. It is a massive structure of THE METROPOLITAN HOTEL. 047 granite, on Broadway opposite the Post-Office, and its name has long been among the household words of the Metropolis. The St. Nicholas is an elegant marble building, on Broadway, between Broome and Spring streets, is conducted on the American plan, and is one of the most thoroughly comfortable houses in the city. Its public rooms on the street floor look out upon Broad- MEfROPOLITAN HOTEL way, and constitute one of the pleasantest lounging- places in New York. It is a favorite with Western people, and is a fortune to its proprietor, Mr. Uriah Welch, whose sterling qualities and unfailing kind- ness to his guests have won him hosts of friends. Its patrons are attached to it, and rarely leave it for newer houses. The Metropolitan Hotel is at the corner of Broad- 648 NEW YORK. way and Prince street, and occupies nearly half of the entire block, extending back to Crosby street in the rear. It is built of brownstone, with an imposino- front on Broadway, and is one of the largest of the GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL. Metropolitan hotels, containing about 400 rooms. It is popular with New Englanders and Western peo- ple, and does a profitable business. The Grand Central Hotel is a monster establish- ment, and is said to be the largest hotel in the United THE FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL. 649 States. It is situated on Broadway, between Bleecker and Amity streets, and extends back to Mercer street. The Broadway front is of marble, and the building- rises to a height of eight stories, with two additional stories in the central dome. It is surmounted by a handsome mansard roof, and is one of the most impos- ing edifices on Broadway. It is magnificently fur- nished, and will accommodate over looo guests. The dining-room will seat over 600 at one time. lSS^>ii^ i^.: S»P''iS»iLn,i |L8L!Lil,iir^'»lti,rpl FIFTH AVENIE II rCL The New York Hotel is a plain red brick building, occupying the square bounded by Broadway, Mercer street. East Washington Place, and Waverly Place. It is one of the most elegant and exclusive houses in the city, and is the favorite with wealthy visitors from the South. The Fifth Avenue Hotel is located at the junction of Broadway, Fifth avenue, and Twenty-third and 650 NEW YORK. Twenty-fourth streets. It occupies the most conspic- uous site in the city, and is a magnificent edifice of white marble, six stories in height. It cost over ^1,000,000, and is superbly furnished and kept in the most expensive style. Its patrons are principally per- sons of wealth, and it is a favorite with politicians of the Republican faith. The Windsor Hotel is situated on Fifth avenue, and extends from Forty- sixth to Forty -seventh streets. It is built of red brick, with brownstone trimmings, is eight stories in height, and is palatial in all its appointments. It is the highest up town of all the great hotels, and shares with the "Fifth Avenue" the wealthiest and most fashionable custom of the city and country. The other prominent hotels are the Albemarle, the Brevoort, the Buckingham, the Clarendon, the Cole- man, the Everett, the Gilsey, the Glenham, the Grand, the Hoffman, the Brunswick, the Irving, the Park Avenue, the Rossmore, the St. Cloud, the St. Denis, the St. James, the Sturtevant, and the Westminster. The accommodations provided by the first-class houses are unequalled in any part of the world. The parlors are sumptuously furnished, the halls sottly car- peted, the public rooms elegantly decorated, and the chambers the perfection of comfort. Elevators con- nect the various floors, and every convenience is at hand for the use of the guests. The table groans with all the luxuries of the season, and the service is per- fection. At night the scene in a first-class hotel is very in- teresting. The public rooms are thronged with guests HOTEL LIFE. G51 and residents of the city, and are brilliantly lighted ; the parlors are filled with guests enjoying the plea- sures of social intercourse, the dining-rooms are crowded with ladies and gentlemen, many in evening dress, and groups of promenaders stroll up and down the halls of the parlor floor. The cost of furnishing a first-class hotel is enor- mous. As much as half a million dollars is often ex- pended for this purpose. The expenses of the house are very great, but the profits are in proportion. The Fifth Avenue Hotel is said to clear ^250,000 annually, and the other leading houses are proportionately prof- itable. The city is always full of strangers, and a handsome and well-kept hotel is sure of a large tran- sient custom. Thousands of city people make their homes at the hotels, and thus constitute a class (enor- mously profitable to the proprietors of the houses) unknown in other cities. It is this class of hotel livers that support the smaller establishments. These peo- ple are away at the watering-places during the sum- mer, but return to their old quarters with the fall of the leaves. All the New York hotels suffer more or less from impostors or dead-beats. The best houses seek in every way to exclude improper characters, but, in spite of the vigilance of the proprietors, such persons will find their way into them. Each house employs one or more private detectives to watch over the safety of its guests, but hotel robberies are of frequent occurrence, and often assume considerable proportions. 652 NEW YORK. CHAPTER LIII. THE TRAMPS. NEW YORK THE PARADISE OF TRAMPS — WHO THEY ARE — THEIR MODE OF LIFE — WORTHLESS CHARACTERS — SLEEPING IN THE PARK — THE TRAMPS* ABLUTIONS — THE TRAMPS* LODGING HOUSE — UNFORTUNATE WANDERERS. New York is the paradise of tramps. This term is generally applied to able-bodied men and women who are too lazy to work, but prefer to pick up a precarious living by begging food and clothes from house to house. In the mild weather they sleep in the parks and public squares, and in the winter take refuge in the police-stations, as has been described. During the warm season they leave the city in large numbers, and wander through the country, going sometimes as far west as Ohio, following regular routes ; but in the winter they flock back to New York, where they are sure of food and shelter. Some remain in the city throughout the year. They are dissipated, as a rule, and the majority have been brought to their present condition by love of drink. They will steal, and even commit highway robbery, rape, or murder, if they have a chance, and are a terror to the householders of the upper portions of the city. They haunt the beer saloons and low class bar-rooms, beg for drinks, and will even drain the few drops left in the empty beer kegs on the sidewalks. They will solicit passers-by for money, and in this way often manage to collect enough to buy whiskey or beer. Their food they beg at the doors of residences, keeping a sharp lookout THE WAYS OF THE TRAMP. G53 all the while for an opportunity to steal something of value when the servant's back is turned. The Central Park is a favorite lodging-place with THE TRAMPS BATH. them in warm weather. Under the cover of darkness they creep into the shrubbery, and make their beds on the grass. Sometimes they sleep on the benches scat- 654 NEW YORK. tered through the grounds, but as they are apt to be disturbed by the pohce, they prefer the shrubber)^ Madison Square is also one of their favorite sleeping- places, but, as they are sharply watched by the police, they are obliged to sleep in a sitting posture on the benches. In the morning they perform their ablutions in the pretty fountains. ...^^mi BEEK TRAMPS. The more fortunate tramps patronize the cheap lodging-houses of the Bowery, where a bed can be had for ten cents a night. An old church for colored people, at Prince and Marion streets, has been turned into a tramps' lodging-house. Each occupant is pro- vided with food, lodging, and a bath, in return for which he must assist in sawing, splitting, and bundling kind- TOO LAZY TO WORK. 655 ling-wood, the sale of which provides a part of the revenue of the house. The place is not popular, how- ever, as the tramp disdains to work. Nightly scores of men and boys apply for lodging, but refuse to ac- cept it when told they must work for it. Many deserving persons are classed among the tramps. They are friendless, homeless, and without money or work, and must adopt the tramp's life in order to maintain existence. Such persons gladly ac- cept any work offered them, and escape from their wretched companionship as soon as able to do so. It is easy to distinguish them from the genuine tramp, however, for they are eager to work ; while the tramp, pure and simple, regards an offer of labor as an insult. 656 NEW YORK. CHAPTER LIV. THE POST-OFFICE. THE MODEL POST-OFFICE OF THE UNION — THE BUILDING — THE POST-OFFICE PROPER — THE BOX AND STAMP DEPARTMENT — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS OF THE POST-OFFICE — BUSI- NESS OP THE OFFICE — HOW THE WORK IS CONDUCTED — DESPATCHING THE MAILS — "STEAMER day" — QUICK WORK. The New York Post-Office is the largest and best conducted estabHshment of its kind in the United States. It is a massive edifice of Dix Island granite, triangular in shape, and occupies what was once the southern end of the City Hall Park, at the junction of Broadway and Park Row. It is five stories in height above the street, and is surmounted by a Mansard roof with several domes, the roof constituting an extra story. Below the sidewalk there are also a basement and a sub-basement. The architecture is a combina- tion of the Doric and Renaissance styles, and the domes, which rise above the roof, are modelled after those of the Louvre at Paris. The girders, beams, and joists used in the building are of iron, and the vast structure is as solid as skill can make it. The interior is handsomely fitted up, with elevators con- necting the various floors, and is divided between the Post-Office and the United States Courts. The Post-Office occupies the sub-basement, the basement, the first and second floors, a gallery about 25 feet wide running around the entire building be- tween the first and second floors, and a portion of the THE BOX DEPARTMENT. G57 fifth floor. Entrances to the building are placed on all the sides except the north front facing the City- Hall. The main entrance is in the centre of the southern front by a noble portico, and from this broad iron stairways lead to the top floor. The third and fourth floors are occupied by the United States Courts and their offices. The fifth floor is devoted to the janitors, and to the storage of material belonging to the Post-Offtce. The engines and other steam machinery used in heating the building and running the elevators, are placed in the sub-basement, the basement proper being used for the reception and sorting of the mails. Entering from the street the visitor finds himself in a broad corridor runnino- around three sides of the building. Here are the v^indows for the sale of stamps, envelopes, etc., the drops for letters and papers, and 5795 boxes, each of which is provided with a metallic door with a lock and key. The boxes are arranged in alcoves, thus giving double room. Here is the general delivery and the ladies' window, and at the end of the corridor on the Park Row side is the For- eign Department, with a separate drop for letters for each country, and a window for the sale of stamps for such letters. The drops for the United States are arranged by States, and there are also drops for the principal cities of the Union, and a separate one for New York. This arrangement saves much trouble in assorting the letters deposited in the office. The space enclosed by the boxes is of a triangular shape. Light is admitted through the windows of the balcony, but chiefly through a large skylight, lOO feet 42 658 NEW YORK. square, and 30 feet above the first floor. Above the skylight is a court open to the weather, and giving light and ventilation to the inner rooms of the floors above. At the south-western end of the room, at a conspicuous point, is an electric annunciator, the largest ever constructed, which gives notice of the time of the arrival and departure of all mails. Scat- tered through the room are tables and cases of boxes for mailing and distributing purposes. At the north end of the room is a semi-circular case, containing 682 large, deep boxes, into which the packages of letters ready for the mails are thrown. At the back of each box are hooks for the attachment of bags, into which the matter slides at the opening of the door. The mails are received on the City Hall side of the building, along the whole length of which are elevators — ten in number — running to the basement, where everything except letters is distributed and mailed. All the employes of the Post-Office enter the build- ing by the portico from this side. The large base- ment room contains a number of wardrobes, with locks and keys — one for each employe of the office. In the south-west corner, under the portico and pave- ment, is a space, enclosed by massive iron screens, extending almost to the ceiling. Here are stored all the mail-bags belonging to the United States not in use. Upon the second floor of the building are located the Money Order Office, the Registered Letter and Special Agency Departments, the Wholesale Stamp Department, and the private offices of the Postmas- ter and his assistants. BUSINESS OF THE POST-OFFICE. 659 The total cost of the building was between six and seven million dollars. The business of the New York Post-Office is im- mense. Besides its transactions with foreign countries, it is in communication with nearly 40,000 post-offices in the United States. 84 mails are despatched, and 86 received, every day. About 300,000,000 letters, papers, etc., are received and forwarded annually, and over 1 200 men are employed in the work of the es- tablishment. The average annual receipts of the of- fice are about ^3,000,000, and the annual expenditures about $1,000,000; so that the office yields a net an- nual profit of about $2,000,000. The work of the office is conducted with the most perfect system, much of which is due to the efforts of the Hon. T. L. James, formerly Postmaster here, and now Postmaster-General of the United States. The immense business of the establishment is so simpli- fied that it goes on like clockwork, without a percepti- ble hitch. GGO NEW YORK. CHAPTER LV. CASTLE GARDEN. THE BUILDING — THE OLD PORT — EARLY HISTORY OF CASTLE GARDEN — BECOMES AN EMIGRANT DEPOT — ARRIVALS OF FOREIGN STEAMERS — LANDING THE EMIGRANTS — AVERAGE WEALTH OF THE NEW-COMERS — PASSING THE SURGEON — REGISTERING EMIGRANTS — INTERNAL AR- RANGEMENTS OP CASTLE GARDEN. At the north-western angle of the Battery Park is a singular-looking circular structure of stone, to which have been added several out-buildings of wood, all enclosed on the land side by a high wooden fence. This is Castle Garden, the famous emigrant-landing depot of New York. The stone building was erected between 1807 and 1820, and was intended for a fort, but in the latter year was found to be too weak to bear the weight of the guns intended for it. It was sold by the General Government, and was converted into a summer-garden, where refreshments were sold and indifferent concerts given. In 1832 a grand ball was given here by the citizens to Lafayette, on his last visit to this country, and in 1843 ^ reception to Presi- dent Tyler was held here. Subsequently it was con- verted into a concert hall, and here Jenny Lind and several other celebrated singers made their first ap- pearance in America. In 1847 it was leased to the Commissioners of Emigration, and has ever since been the principal emigrant depot of the country. It was partially destroyed in 1876, but has since been rebuilt. When a steamer with emigrants on board drops her SCENES IN THE EMIGRANT DEPOT. 661 anchor in the river, several large barges are towed alongside, and to these are transferred the emigrants and their baggage. As soon as the barges are loaded, they are cast off, and are towed to Castle Garden, while the steamer proceeds to her pier in the North River. When the barge is made fast to the landing at Castle Garden, the baggage is taken into a hall of the building, where it is claimed by its owners, and exam- ined by the Custom-House inspectors. Some of the new-comers have scarcely any baggage at all, while others are possessed of large quantities of it. For- merly each emigrant was questioned as to the amount of money brought with him, but this practice has been abandoned. It is estimated that the average amount is about ^loo for each person, and $50 more for per- sonal property. Taking this average, and estimating the total number of arrivals at 250,000 in a favorable year, it will be seen that these new-comers increase the wealth of the country in a single year by ^37,500,000. The Custom-House inspectors having passed the baggage, it is sent to a room provided for its proper storage. The surgeon of the establishment then ex- amines the emigrants to see that no paupers, or crim- inals, or persons affected with contagious or infectious diseases are among them. After the inspection is over, the emigrants are passed into the rotunda, or principal hall of the building, filing, one by one, by the registration desk, where their names, age, nationality, destination, the vessel's name, and date of arrival, are carefully registered, as a means of identifying the per- son should it be necessary to do so at any time in the future. The floor of the rotunda is divided into 662 NEW YORK. enclosures, containing a telegraph-office, post-office, money exchange office, railroad ticket offices, and a restaurant. Those of the new-comers who have friends awaiting them are allowed to depart with them, after the latter have satisfied the authorities as to their real characters; others who wish to remain in the rotunda are allowed to do so for a stated time; those who wish to go to a boarding-house, are recommended to houses licensed by, and under the supervision of, the Commis- sioners; and others still, who wish to proceed at once to their destinations in other parts of the country, can purchase their railway tickets and have their baggage checked at the offices in the building. The sick are cared for in a temporary hospital until they can be transferred to Ward's Island, and the helpless are kindly looked after, and sent to the institution provided for them on the same island. A labor exchange is estab- lished in the building, where those who wish to pro- cure work can secure situations. Interpreters, speak- ing all the various European languages, are provided, and every care is taken to protect the emigrant's interests, and to guard him from the dangers which threaten him during his first few days of strangeness and inexperience in the great city. MARKET TRAFFIC. 663 CHAPTER LVI. THE MARKETS OF NEW YORK. THE MARKET-HOrSES — UNSIGHTLY STRUCTURES — THE MANHATTAN MARKET — SCENES IN THE MARKETS — NEW YORK's SOURCE OF SUPPLY — THE MORNING HOURS — SATUKDAY-NIGHT MARKETS — THE OYSTER-SALOONS — FULTON MARKET — THE "CORNER GROCERIES." The markets of New York, with the exception of the Manhattan and Tompkins markets, are about as unattractive and wretched structures as could well be imagined. They are dirty, in various stages of dilap- idation, and are regarded by the citizens as first-class nuisances. The amount of business conducted within them is enormous, however, but even this is surpassed by the aggregate transactions of the street stands and retail stores in their immediate vicinity, which to a stranger appear to form a continuation of the market itself. The principal establishments are the Fulton, Wash- ington, Jefferson, Catharine, Union, Clinton, Franklin, Centre, Tompkins, Essex, and Manhattan. The Man- hattan market is the property of a private stock com- pany, and is a magnificent structure of brick and stone, lying at the foot of Thirty-fourth street, on the Hud- son River, and covering about three acres. It is used mainly for the sale of butchers' meats, and a large part of it is devoted to the purposes of an abattoir. Its location is unfortunate, being difficult of access. The best-known markets are the Fulton and Wash- ington. The former is now undergoing reconstruc- 664 NEW YORK. tion, and the new market will be a handsome and clean edifice. The old one was an eyesore to the neighborhood. Bad as the outward appearance of the markets is, the interior presents one of the most interesting sights of the city. The stalls are filled with the products of every portion of the Union, and with fruits and deli- cacies from foreign climes. The display of meats is extensive and enticing, and at Thanksgiving and Christmas times the number of turkeys that find their way here is perfectly astounding. The country for miles around New York abounds in market ea-rdens and truck farms, and these send their rich stores of fruits and vegetables in profusion, while similar pro- ducts from every State in the Union are also displayed for sale. Steam has made even the most distant States of the West and South producers for the New York markets. Large as the supply is, the markets are never overstocked. Over a million of people pur- chase their food here, and the demand is unceasing. Everything finds a sale at good prices. The Metrop- olis is the first American city to be supplied with the various products of the country. As the spring opens the South sends its fruits and vegetables to these markets, beginning with Florida. As the season ad- vances the source of supply moves northward and westward, so that the Metropolis enjoys the benefit of all the changes of season to a greater extent than would be possible in a provincial city. The business of the markets begins about four o'clock in the morning. The first comers are the caterers for the hotels, the restaurants, the fashionable THE FULNON MARKET. 665 boarding-houses, and the mansions of the very rich, and the proprietors of the "corner groceries" and meat stores of the city. These purchase largely, and the best of the stock of the dealers is soon disposed of. Prices are high at this season, but as the morn- ing advances they decline. Towards six or seven o'clock a perfect army of boarding-house keepers makes its appearance, and now begins the season for " bargains." By ten o'clock the market is wellnigh exhausted, and the remainder of the stock is disposed of to the poor, who cannot afford to purchase better food at the prices which rule the earlier hours. On Saturday night, the night before Thanksgiving, and on Christmas Eve, the markets are in their glory. Brightly lighted, filled with the most tempting articles, and thronged with eager purchasers, they do a lively business, and are perfect Babels of noise and confu- sion. In many of the markets, rooms are built in the enclosure, some of which are handsomely furnished. These are used for restaurants and oyster-houses. The Fulton Market has long been famous for its oys- ters, and at almost every hour of the day during the season its most noted saloons are thronged with lovers of the delicious bivalves. Ladies in rich dresses, and gentlemen swells, pick their way through the dirt and grime, and crowd the saloons in quest of their favorite delicacy. The Fulton Market is a vast bazaar. Almost any- thing can be purchased there. Side by side are book and periodical stands, with full stocks of the latest literature, eating-stands, oyster-saloons, bar-rooms, 666 NEW YORK. cheap jewelery stores, hardware, crockery, and dry- goods stands, all of which seem to do well. Comparatively few of the people of the city pur- chase their supplies at the markets. They buy of the provision dealers who procure their supplies from these establishments, and sell to their customers at a considerable advance upon the market rates. The location of the markets and the immense distances of the city render this system a necessity. NEW York's water supply. 667 CHAPTER LVII. THE CROTON WATER-WORKS. THE SOURCE OF NEW YORK'S WATER SUPPLV-CROTON LAKE-THE CROTON AQUEDUCT-A WON- UHU suuK>.ii ^ „,„„ KUKVirn" SYSTEM — THE CENTRAL PARK DERFUL WORK— THE HIGH BRIDGE— THE HIGH SERVICE SYSTEM RESERVOIRS-HOW THE WATER IS SUPPLIED TO THE CITV-ENORMOUS WASTE. Seventy miles from New York is a group of 23 small lakes, occupying portions of Westchester, Put- nam, and Dutchess counties, and a small corner of Connecticut. They lie in a lovely region, and are noted for the purity and abundance of their waters. They are drained by the Croton River, which along the lo^yer portion of its course flows through Croton Lake, 40 miles from New York, and finally falls into the Hudson above Sing Sing. During the early part of the century New York be- gan to realize the necessity of providing an abundant supply of pure water for drinking and other purposes. A number of plans were offered, some looking to the Bronx River as the source of supply, and some to other localities ; but no definite action was taken until the great fire of 1835 taught the cidzens the danger of leaving the Metropolis longer without an adequate supply of fresh water. Then it was determined to bring water into the city from Croton Lake, and m May, 1837, the construcdon of an aqueduct from the lake to the city, a distance of 40 miles, was begun. Five years were employed in the work, and on the 4th of July, 1842, the Croton water was distributed through New York. 668 NEW YORK. The work was begun by throwing a massive dam across Croton River at its outlet from the lake, which raised the water to a depth of 40 feet, and gave to the lake a retaining capacity of about 500,000,000 gallons. The dam is constructed of massive masonry, and is 230 feet wide and 45 feet high, and over it the waste water flows in a fine cataract. The aqueduct begins at the dam, and consists of a tunnel of brick, stone, and cement, arched above and below, with a width of seven and a half feet, and a height of eight and a half feet. Along its entire course it falls 13 inches to the mile. After leaving the gateway of the dam it follows the left bank of the Croton River for five miles, when it turns southward, penetrating two lofty hills of solid rock by means of tunnels, and takes a generally south- erly course to the High Bridge, opposite New York. For a part of the way it rests upon the ground, and at other points is supported by a series of stone arches. During its course it crosses 25 considerable streams, besides many brooks. It is conveyed over the Har- lem River by the High Bridge, a splendid stone struct- ure of 15 arches, eight of which, 80 feet wide and 100 feet above the tide, rise out of the river. The bridge is 1450 feet in length and 21 feet in width, and is pro- vided with a parapet on each side. The great height of the arches prevents the bridge from obstructing the navigation of the river, and vessels pass and repass under it with perfect ease. On the bridge is laid an immense iron pipe, seven and a half feet in diameter, through which the water is conveyed from the tunnel to the opposite shore. Two other pipes, three feet in diameter, are also laid on each side of the great pipe, THE HIGH BRIDGE. 6G9 through which an additional supply of water may be conveyed to the New York side. Above the pipes is the floor of the bridge, which is laid off as a prom- enade. The bridge is an imposing structure, is visible from a long distance, and forms a prominent feature of one of the loveliest landscapes in the world. HIGH BRIDGE. At the northern, or Westchester, end of the bridge is a gate-house, which is used for the purpose of reg- ulatinor the flow of the Croton water from the tunnel into the pipes over the bridge; and on the New York side is another gate-house, by which the water is ad- mitted to the aqueduct, which resumes its course from 670 NEW YORK. this point to the reservoirs in the Central Park. At this end of the bridge two large reservoirs are located, known as the "Storage" and "High Service" reser- voirs. The latter of these is designed for the supply of the elevated regions of Carmansville. Powerful engines pump the water from the aqueduct into this reservoir, supplying 100,000 gallons daily. A hand- some tower of granite rises at the side of the reser- voir, and the water is pumped to the top of this, from which it falls into the pipes that supply the district of Washington Heights. Two and a quarter miles below the High Bridge the aqueduct reaches a gate-house at the corner of Tenth avenue and One Hundred and Tenth street, from which the water is conveyed in pipes to Ninety- third street between Ninth and Tenth avenues. Here is another gate-house, and from this point the water flows into a new section of the aqueduct, which conveys it to, and discharges it in, the two large receiving reservoirs in Central Park. The cost of the Croton Aqueduct and the original reservoirs was about $9,000,000. The reservoirs are two in number, and have already been mentioned in connection with the Central Park. The older or southern reservoir was built at the time of the construction of the aqueduct, and covers an area of 35 acres, with a water surface of 31 acres and a capacity of 1 50,000,000 gallons. The new reservoir covers an area of 106 acres, with a water surface of 96 acres and a capacity of 1,029,888,000 gallons. When full it has a depth of 38 feet. It is divided by a wall, so that in case of accident only one-half of the THE CROTON RESERVOIRS. 671 reservoir need be emptied. It is provided with an elaborate system of gates, by means of wliich any desired quantity of water may be taken from it. The affluent gate at the northern end distributes the water equally into each section of the vast basin, or into one section only if desired. At the southern end is a hand- some gate-house of granite, by means of which the water in both reservoirs is distributed into the pipes running southward into the city. Here the great forty-eight inch mains which supply the city begin, and here is a vast but systematic arrangement of blow-off valves, stop-cocks, ventilators, and other con- trivances, all contained in a large vault below the level of the gate-house. The blow-off valves are used for letting the water out into the sewers of the city when repairs are to be made to the reservoirs. On the floor of the gate-house is a series of iron wheels which work large screws, which, in their turn, raise or lower the gates, admitting the water to the great mains or shutting it off from them. One of these mains extends towards First avenue, another to Third ave- nue, a third to Madison avenue, and the others to the principal longitudinal streets of the city. There is a third reservoir on Fifth avenue, between Fortieth and Forty-second streets. It is a massive, fortress like structure of stone, rising high above the street, cover- ing four acres of ground, and possessing a capacity of 20,000,000 gallons. It is the principal distributing reservoir for the lower part of the city. The aqueduct brings to the city a supply of 104,- 000,000 gallons of water daily, and the reservoirs con- tain, when full, about ten days' supply. In ordinary 672 NEW YORK. seasons the quantity of water is abundant ; but in times of unusual dryness the greatest care is required to keep the city suppHed. The Central Park reser- voirs are connected with the police and fire head- quarters by telegraph, and in seasons of drought, when the water is carefully dealt out, news of the location of a fire is telegraphed to the gate-house of the new reservoir, and a full force of water is turned on to the mains of the district in which the conflagra- tion occurs. In spite of the warnings of the Croton Board, the people of the city use the water as lavishly in seasons of drought as in times of plenty. They are charged for the privilege they enjoy, a water-tax being levied upon each building in which the Croton is used. This tax amounts to about ^6000 a day, or ^2,000,000 a year. The total cost of the water-works of New York, including the laying of the mains and other expenses, has been about ^30,000,000. The total consumption of water daily is about 95,000,000 gallons. Over 400 miles of mains are laid under the streets of the city, and about 100,000 buildings of all kinds are supplied with pure water. THE END. 4 O A *bv^ :^: ,-j^ .' -^-0^ \ ' ^^ ■ • • ' ' ^"^ ^^ o ^^-n^ ''-n. 0^ .-' °x. r. ^^ ^^. C * ^: ^: .0 ^o V'^ ^"'^<^. ^. sC^ °^. % c ^"^ y^ifi^i"^ ^- 0-^-:-^^^.-. '-J^^ ■.>*f^ '^. V^^-*' -^ '^-' '^ — ^' ^^^ ■X"- "Zi. r -^^, ^ '^- ^^W^^ ./ "oVMW*' l.'<^ "^^ <.^ o^.V^^''^ ^^/^^^"V co'^W&^> ^ .V