Читать книгу The New York Tombs Inside and Out! - John Josiah Munro - Страница 3

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My first visit to the grim old Tombs Prison was in the early part of 1875. I have never forgotten that visit and the deep impression it left on my mind. The scenes I witnessed that day have come back to me scores of times and I have wished that I had the power to have changed the things I then saw. At any rate, that memorable experience started in my soul a deeper sympathy and pity for erring humanity.

Afterwards I spent much time visiting the old prison, as I had the opportunity, and I found it a splendid place for the study of human nature, and especially the criminal side of life.

When speaking to New Yorkers of the scenes I had witnessed in this prison, I found them to be densely ignorant of its history and management. Why should they take any interest in the old Tombs? New Yorkers are too busy in commercial pursuits to give much time to such trifles! I found, however, after they were aroused on the subject of abuses they wished to know everything, and they wondered like myself why politics should be allowed to have such a controlling power in the City Prison.

At this time I was a lay missionary. My field of labor was the old “Red Light District.” This part of New York was not as densely populated as now. It contained a large number of people, mostly of the thrifty Irish and German class. It had many large tenements which contained from eight to twelve families, which were veritable “bee hives” of the human species.

While visiting, not far from Essex Market Court, a lady informed me that a member of my Sunday School was then in the Tombs, and asked me to go and see him. This was new work for me and I confess, I did not know how to go about it. I called to see the boy’s mother, who kept a beer garden in the neighborhood. But I could get nothing out of her, and came away feeling that my labor was all in vain. The woman was so much absorbed in her saloon business and so benumbed and besotted with beer that she seemed devoid of all motherly instinct and feeling. And she seemed not to care the snap of her finger about her boy.

After a good deal of difficulty I made my way to the Boys’ Prison in the Tombs, which was in the rear of the building. To my amazement I found a crowd of young thieves and pickpockets huddled together, and this Sunday School lad in the midst. In those days the authorities made no attempt at segregation or discrimination. The boys were all together, cursing and howling like a lot of devils! I was pained beyond measure, and I regret to say when I returned to the City Prison after nearly twenty years, almost the same condition existed. I found the Boys’ Prison in a filthy condition—damp and foul, more fit for hogs than human beings, and this besides the continual noises, yelling, howling, cursing, swearing and cat-calls in ten languages!

I made a hurried investigation and saw the authorities, after which the boy was discharged and returned home. He never forgot his experience in that gloomy old prison! I kept watch of him but I do not think he was ever the same person. Those few days in the Tombs as the companion of thieves and pickpockets not only marred his future life but came near blasting his usefulness forever!

I kept up my interest in the poor, gaunt, ill clad, badly fed and poverty stricken unfortunates of the old Tombs, a large number of whom were criminals simply because of their social conditions and for no other reason. I was a frequent visitor till my graduation from Union Theological Seminary in 1880.

In 1897 I again took up my residence in New York. I felt my interest in prison labors come back with the freshness of youth, and at once gave my Sundays to the prosecution of the work.

I have found that the Boys’ Prison has always been the hardest department to manage in the entire Tombs system. Sometimes a keeper was placed in charge who knew how to handle boys. But in later years the conditions were worse than ever. We knew one keeper who was a common scold. He swore at the boys and they swore back at him, using the most vulgar and lurid profanity. Then they would steal from each other, fight among themselves like old time pugilists and they could always depend on outsiders to smuggle in cigarettes and blood curdling dime novels. On account of the lack of discipline, the Boys’ Prison became one of the most proficient Schools of Crime. Here they learned to become expert pickpockets under the very nose of the prison authorities!

I have often told my friends when showing them around the building I would rather bury a relative of mine than have him spend a week in this dirty, immoral pest hole. During the past five or six years there has been an average of 75 to 80 boys a day in this prison, and shocking to relate, one-half have frequently to be treated for venereal disease. If you want your boy to be a full-fledged degenerate and outcast send him to the Tombs Prison, for only a few days, and when he comes out of this School of Crime he will dare anything in the line of criminality!

It is a fact that cannot be denied that in this prison some of the boys plan crime and execute it on the outside. This has been proven scores of times, when these young crooks return to the prison on fresh charges. If you question them they will admit that they received their incentive to do crooked deeds while in the Tombs. Those who are sent to the Protectory and the House of Refuge are seldom improved when they come out. Barney McGill, who had been a lieutenant in the Navy during the Civil War, was one of the best and kindest of keepers. He was in the Department of Corrections for many years and was noted for his outspoken fidelity. While in charge of the Boys’ Prison a few years ago, he wore a gold watch and chain exposed to view. Some of the “kids” thought it was a “dead-easy” thing to get Barney’s watch. An East Side boy named Mickey Cohen, promised to secure it without much trouble. One morning this young crook called Barney to his cell and said, “Keeper, I want to speak to you. Excuse me, I am afraid to speak loud ‘cause if some of dese kids hear it, dey will kill me.” “Speak out, my little man,” said Barney, “I will see that no one harms you.” Then he told Barney a “fake” tale of some boys who intended to escape. While he was doing this he stole Barney’s watch, leaving the chain dangle in front of his vest. In half an hour Barney missed his gold watch. After threatening to “kill” a half a dozen of the suspicious crooks, the guilty one confessed. Afterwards the watch was found in the cell mattress.

When Jimmy Hagan was boss of the Tombs he took Billy Evers from Murderers’ Row and sent him to the Boys’ Prison for some trifling offence. Billy was a good keeper and a favorite among the boys. He had a fatherly way of getting around them and into their affection. He never swore at them! Whenever I made trips to Sing Sing in after years in the interest of the discharged prisoner and met any of the old boys they were sure to ask after Billy Evers.

Then there was Larry Creevy. Some boys were afraid of him but he knew how to keep them in their place. Then there were John O’Conners and Mike Breen, two most excellent keepers. Under John E. Van De Carr, who can truthfully be called the Prince of Wardens, the Boys’ Prison was carried on above reproach!

It is needless to say that some of these boys were the children of well-to-do parents who allowed them to be sent to the City Prison for the “scare” it would give them. But it had no apparent effect on most of them. Many times a mother in silks and satins with a full display of jewelry would visit the Prison. One day a mother went to one of the judges to ask clemency for her boy who was up for sentence. The judge was disposed to be lenient with the lad as he was not a thief. But the Court had made inquiry and learned that the parents were more to blame for his downfall than the boy. I was glad the judge spoke as he did, before he got through that mother’s face was crimson. “Woman,” said the judge, “why don’t you look after your boy? You are responsible for his disgrace. You go out at night to the theatre and other social functions, and while you are having a nice time your boy is going to the Devil! If you promise to stay at home and try and bring up your boy the proper way, I will suspend sentence.” She did.

For several years after I went to the Tombs there was a man who acted as school teacher and probation officer, whose vile relations with the boys in his rooms on Chrystie street, was scandalous. Several had confessed to me as well as to Father Smith, the Catholic Priest. As soon as I learned that the shocking information was true, I sent the boys and their parents to Commissioner Hynes, and with the aid of Justice Meyers of Special Sessions he was “bounced.” The general opinion at the time was that the brute ought to have been sent to Sing Sing for twenty years. Warden Van De Carr deserved great credit for the help rendered on this occasion. These and similar abuses have been going on in our prisons for years, but no body is willing to stop them or expose them? The present missionary mollycoddles would not dare to speak against them, and as far as the Tombs abuses are concerned the Prison Association has been dumb on these and similar subjects. The courts find it hard to secure the right kind of Probation officers. This is especially true in regard to Boys. A loud mouthed, untruthful grafter should not be allowed to manage boys under any circumstances. There are two notable exceptions, one in Brooklyn and the other in New York—both reliable men, Messrs. Baccus and Kimball.