The Secrets of the Great City Part 19

Every morning, by times, and every afternoon between one o'clock and dark, if you chance to be in the neighborhood of Printing House Square, you will see throngs of boys rus.h.i.+ng frantically out of the cellars of the printing houses of the daily journals. They have barely pa.s.sed the portals, when they set up their morning cry, in a shrill, sharp tone, "'Ere's your ''Erald,' 'Mornin' Times,' 'Buy a Tribune?'" etc. In the afternoon, they scream into your ears the names of the "News," "Mail,"

"Express," "Telegram," "Post," and other evening journals, flavoring their announcements with shouts such as these: "'Nuther murder!"

"Tremendous sensation!" "Orful shootin' sc.r.a.pe!" "'Orrible haccident!"

and so on. They climb up on the steps of the stage, thrust their grim little faces in the windows, and almost bring nervous pa.s.sengers to their feet by their yells; or, scrambling into a street car, they will offer you their papers in such an earnest, appealing way, that, nine times out of ten, you will buy them out of sheer pity for the boys.

The boys who sell the morning papers are very few in number. The newspaper stands seem to have the whole monopoly of this branch of the trade, and the efforts of the newsboys are confined to the afternoon journals--especially the cheap ones--some of which, however, are dear bargains at a penny. They swarm around the City Hall, and in the eastern section of the city, below Ca.n.a.l street; and in the former locality, half a dozen will sometimes surround a luckless pedestrian, thrusting their wares in his face, and literally forcing him to buy one to get rid of them. The moment he shows the least disposition to yield, they commence fighting amongst themselves for the "honor" of serving him. They are ragged and dirty. Some have no coats, no shoes, and no hat. Some are simply stupid, others are bright, intelligent little fellows, who would make good and useful men if they could have a chance.

The majority of these boys live at home, but many of them are wanderers in the streets, selling papers at times, and begging at others. Some pay their earnings, which rarely amount to more than thirty cents per day, to their mothers--others spend them in tobacco, strong drink, and in visiting the low-cla.s.s theatres and concert halls.

Formerly, these little fellows suffered very much from exposure and hunger. In the cold nights of winter, they slept on the stairways of the newspaper offices, in old boxes or barrels, under door steps, and sometimes sought a "warm bed" on the street gratings of the printing offices, where the warm steam from the vaults below could pa.s.s over them. The attention of the "Children's Aid a.s.sociation" was called to their hards.h.i.+ps in 1854, and an effort was made to relieve them by establis.h.i.+ng a newsboys' lodging house.

NEWSBOYS' LODGING HOUSE.

This is now situated in Park Place, near Broadway, and is richly worth visiting. It is always full at night. The boys pay five cents for supper, and five cents for bed. The whole of the arrangements are under the superintendence of Mr. and Mrs. O'Conner, who have been most efficient in their management of the house. It requires a great deal of tact to keep these boys under proper discipline, without, at the same time, letting them feel that the restrictions are too severe. Supper is served for them between six and seven o'clock, and is of plain, substantial materials. The boys then adjourn to the lecture-room, where they are supplied with books, and where, in the course of the evening, they unite in singing various hymns. Occasionally, gentlemen come in and give lectures. Some of the boys are eager to learn to write, and are supplied with writing materials. The sitting generally terminates about nine o'clock, with the recitation of the Lord's Prayer and the singing of the Doxology. The singing is marked with force, rather than great accuracy; it sometimes partakes very much of the character of a bawl. But the lads are amused, and perhaps a little instructed, so something is gained. After these exercises, the tired ones go to bed, the lively blades to the gymnasium, the philosophic apply themselves to draughts or dominoes. The gymnasium is a most amusing place. There is one little boy, named 'Chris,' a newsboy, aged eleven, who lost his leg by being rode over by a coal cart, about four years ago, whose agility is perfectly wonderful. He throws aside the crutch with disdain, hops across the room with incredible swiftness, seizes the rings of the swing, and flies through the air like a bird. Some of the newsboys have considerable savings, and are very well-conducted lads. Last month, one of them picked up a roll of bills amounting to two hundred dollars. He brought it immediately to Mr. O'Conner, and asked his advice. It was decided that the finding should be advertised; but as the owner was not forthcoming, the boy placed his savings in a bank; and has added considerably to the original amount.

THE BOOTBLACKS.

The bootblacks form a peculiar feature of New York life. They are boys from ten to sixteen years of age. A few are older, and there are some men following this avocation on the street. The boys, however, are always meant when this cla.s.s is referred to. Some of them are newsboys early in the morning, and bootblacks for the rest of the day.

They provide themselves with a box, with a sliding lid and a rest for the feet of their customers, a box of blacking, and a pair of good brushes. All the articles are kept in the box, when not in use, and the owner carries this receptacle by means of a leather strap fastened to it. This he slings across his shoulder, and trudges on with his box on his back. The headquarters of this cla.s.s are in or near the Five Points district. They form a regular confraternity, and have their own laws or customs. They are generally sharp, shrewd lads, with any number of bad habits, and little or no principle. They are averse to giving much information with respect to themselves or their society, admission into which requires a payment of two dollars. To what purpose the money thus obtained is devoted, it is hard to say, but the object of the a.s.sociation seems to be mutual protection. The "Order" establishes a fixed price for labor, and takes care to protect its members against the compet.i.tion of irregular intruders. The established price, for blacking a pair of boots or shoes, is ten cents. When it is known to a member that an outsider is blacking for a less sum, the fact is reported to the society, which appoints a delegation to look after the presumptuous individual. He is promptly warned that he must work for the regular price, or "quit work." If he declines to do either, his head, in the elegant language of the society, is "punched," and he is driven from the street. The affairs of the society are managed by a "Captain of the bootblacks," whose word is supreme, and who wields his power as all arbitrary rulers do.

The price of a new outfit, or "kit," such as we have described, is from two to three dollars. Second-hand outfits can be bought of the junk- dealers for much less. When asked how much they earn, the boys give evasive answers, and it has been said that their society does not permit them to tell the truth upon this subject. One dollar is supposed to be the average daily earning of an industrious boy. The writer was once much amused by a little fellow telling him, with an air of great importance, that he was going that night to attend the trial of Bill Simpson, a recreant bootblack, who was to be "brought afore the s'ciety for blacking boots for five cents." The trial must have been edifying.

Where and when the society meets, and what is the nature of its transactions, are secrets known only to the initiated.

A large part of the earnings of the bootblacks is spent for tobacco and drink. They are patrons of the Bowery theatres and concert halls, and their criticisms of the performances are frequently worth hearing. The "Children's Aid Society" makes them objects of its especial care, its great end and aim being "to induce the boys to emigrate to the West."

The course of life which they pursue leads to miserable results. When a bootblack gets to be seventeen, he finds that his career is at an end-- it does not produce money enough--and he has acquired lazy, listless habits, which totally unfit him for any kind of work. He becomes a loafer, a vagrant, and perhaps worse. To save boys from this fate, the society labors most earnestly to induce them to go to the West; and it is stated that the desire of the boys to secure western homes increases year by year. Up to the present time about seven hundred have been sent out, and many of them are now filling respectable positions in society.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

BEGGARS.

After living in New York for a few months, you cannot resist the conclusion that it is a City of Beggars. You meet them at every step, and they follow you into your residence and place of business. A few you know to be genuine, and you give them gladly, but cannot resist the conviction that the majority of those who accost you are simply impostors, as, indeed, they are. Begging is not allowed on the street- cars, in the stages, the ferry-boats, or at any place of amus.e.m.e.nt, but there is no law against the practice of it on the streets. Broadway is the favorite resort of this cla.s.s, as it is the princ.i.p.al promenade of the city people, and Fourteenth, and Twenty-third streets, and Fifth Avenue are being made disagreeable in this way.

Besides these street beggars, there are numbers of genteel, and doubtless well-meaning persons who make it their business to beg for others. They intrude upon you at the most inconvenient times, and venture into your private apartments with a freedom and a.s.surance which positively amaze you. Refuse them, and they are insulting.

Then there are those who approach you by means of letters. They send you the most pitiful appeals for aid, and a.s.sure you that nothing but the direst necessity induces them to send you such a letter, and that they would not do so under any circ.u.mstances, were not they aware of your well-known charitable disposition. Some persons of known wealth receive as many as a dozen letters of this kind each day. They are, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, from impostors, and are properly consigned to the waste-basket.

Housekeepers have frequent applications every day for food. These are generally complied with, as, in all families of moderate size, there is much that must either be given or thrown away. Children and old people generally do this kind of begging. They come with long faces and pitiful voices, and ask for food in the most doleful tones. Grant their requests, and you will be amused at the cool manner in which they will produce large baskets, filled with provisions, and deposit your gift therein. Many Irish families find all their provisions in this way.

A lady desirous of helping a little child who was in the habit of coming to her on such errands, once asked her what her mother's occupation was?

"She keeps a boardin' house," was the innocent reply.

"A boarding house!" exclaimed the lady in surprise, "then why does she send you out to beg?"

"Oh!" said the child naively, "she takes care of the house, and I do the marketing. She doesn't call it begging."

The cool impudence of street beggars is often amusing. The writer was sitting a short while since in the office of a friend, when a man entered and began a most pitiful story. The gentleman gave him a penny or two, then looking at him for the first time, said:

"How is this, my friend? This is the second time you have been here to- day. I gave you something this morning."

The man had evidently blundered into the office this time, and he now glanced at the gentleman and about the room, searchingly. He recognized them, and bursting into a laugh at his mistake, left the room without replying.

The majority of the beggars of the City, we are glad to say, are foreigners and their children. An American mendicant is rarely seen.

Our people will suffer in silence rather than beg, but the foreigners do not seem to be influenced by any such feelings. They are used to it, no doubt, in their own country, and bring their pauper habits over here with them. We make an exception in favor of the Germans. They are a hard-working people and rarely beg.

The City makes a liberal provision for the poor, and the charitable a.s.sociations do much more, but still it is impossible to relieve all the suffering. The reader will find in one of the engravings of this work, an instance of the manner in which the poor are provided with food at the Tombs.

CHAPTER XXIX.

EMIGRANTS.

Nine tenths of the emigration from Europe to the United States is through the port of New York. So large is the number of emigrants arriving here, that the authorities have been compelled to establish a depot for the especial accommodation of this cla.s.s. This depot is located at the Battery.

THE BATTERY.

The Battery was formerly one of the most delightful spots in New York.

It occupies the extreme lower end of the island, and commands a fine view of the bay and harbor. It had formerly a granite sea-wall, along which was the favorite promenade of the city, and was shaded by a grove of fine oaks which the Dutch settlers had been wise enough to spare. It was almost triangular in form, and on two sides was built up with stately mansions of the old style, which were occupied by the _elite_ of the metropolis. It had an elegant and aristocratic air, which made it very attractive to both native and visitor.

The houses and trees are still standing, but the dwellers who made the place so gay, twenty years ago, have flown up the island, and the buildings are occupied with the offices of the various s.h.i.+pping lines, that ply between this and other ports; and by cheap hotels, bar-rooms, and sailors' boarding houses, the gra.s.s in the enclosure is trodden down, and the place is both dirty and repulsive. The railing is lined with long rows of street-venders' stalls, and the gates have been taken away. Crowds of emigrants, drunken men, slovenly women and dirty children are to be seen at all hours of the day in the old park, and the only beauty still clinging to the scene is in the expanse of blue water which stretches away from it seaward. At night the Battery is not a safe place to visit, for its frequenters respect neither life nor property, and the bay is close at hand to hide all traces of crime.

CASTLE GARDEN.

The emigrant s.h.i.+ps, both sail vessels and steamers, anchor in the river after entering the port. They generally lie off their own piers, and wait for the Custom-House boat to board them. As soon as this is done, and the necessary forms are gone through with, preparations are made to land the emigrants, as the s.h.i.+p cannot enter her berth at the pier till this duty is accomplished. The emigrants and their baggage are placed on board the Custom-House steamer, and are at once conveyed to Castle Garden, a round building which juts out into the water at the extreme end of the Battery.

In the year 1807 work was commenced on this building by the General Government, the site having been ceded by the city. It was intended to erect a strong fortification, to be called Castle Clinton, but, in 1820, it was discovered that the foundations were not strong enough to bear heavy ordnance, and Congress reconveyed the site to the city. The building was then completed as an opera house, and used for operatic and theatrical performances, concerts, and public receptions. It was the largest and most elegant hall of its kind in the country, and was a favorite resort of pleasure seekers. Jenny Lind sang there, during her visit to the United States. It was used for this purpose until the year 1855, when, the fas.h.i.+on and wealth of the city having removed too high up town to make it profitable, it was leased to the Commissioners of Emigration, as a landing-place for emigrants.

This Commission has the exclusive charge of the Landing Depot and its inmates. It is composed of six Commissioners, appointed by the Governor of the State. The Mayors of New York and Brooklyn, and the Presidents of the Irish and German Emigrant Societies, are members _ex-officio_.

They are responsible to the Legislature for their acts.

The Landing Depot is fitted up with quarters for the emigrants and their baggage, and with various stores at which they can procure articles of necessity at moderate prices. As most of them come provided with some money, there is an exchange office in the enclosure, at which they can procure American currency for their foreign money. Many of them come furnished with railroad tickets to their destinations in the West, which they have purchased in Europe, but the majority buy their tickets in this city. There is an office for this purpose in the building, at which the agents of the various lines leading from the city to the Great West are prepared to sell tickets. No one is compelled to transact his business in the building, but all are advised to do so, as they will then be fairly treated; while they are in danger of falling into the hands of swindlers outside. Attached to the establishment is an official, whose duty it is to furnish any information desired by the emigrants, and to advise them as to the boarding houses of the city which are worthy of their patronage. The keepers of these houses are held to a strict account of their treatment of their guests.

The majority of the emigrants go West in a few days after their arrival. Some have already decided on their place of future abode before leaving Europe, and others are influenced by the information they receive after reaching this country. Should they desire to remain in this city they are frequently able to obtain employment, through the Labor Exchange connected with the Landing Depot, and by the same means many obtain work in other parts of the country--the Commissioners taking care that the contracts thus made are lawful and fair to both parties.

As we have said, the greater number of the emigrants arriving here have money when they come. Others, who have been able to raise only enough to reach this, to them, "land of promise," or who have been swindled out of their funds by sharpers in European ports, arrive here in the most dest.i.tute condition. These are a burden to the city and, State at first, and are at once sent to the Emigrant Refuge and Hospital.

EMIGRANT REFUGE AND HOSPITAL.