The City That Was

The illustrations in this chapter, with the frontispiece of the book, have all been reproduced from the elaborate report published by the Council of Hygiene of the Citizens’ Association. My address before the Legislative Committee is here given as it then appeared in The New York Times of March 13, 1865, with the correction of some typographical errors. It consisted of a detailed presentation of the facts recorded and sworn to by the medical inspectors employed by the Citizens’ Association, together with photographic illustrations which were made by them.

MR. CHAIRMAN: I have been requested to lay before you some of the results of a sanitary inspection of New York City, undertaken and prosecuted to a successful completion by a voluntary organization of citizens. There has long been a settled conviction in the minds of the medical men of New York, that that city is laboring under sanitary evils of which it might be relieved. This opinion is not mere conjecture, but it is based upon the daily observations which they are accustomed to make in the pursuit of professional duties.

Familiar, by daily study, with the causes of diseases, and the laws which govern their spread, they have seen yearly accumulating about and within the homes of the laboring classes all the recognized causes of the most Alarm of Medical
Men preventible diseases, without a solitary measure being taken by those in authority to apply an effectual remedy. They have seen the poor crowded into closer and closer quarters, until the system has actually become one of tenant-house packing. They have witnessed the prevalence of terrible and fatal epidemics, having their origin in or intensified by these conditions, and many of their professional brethren have perished in the courageous performance of their duties to the poor and suffering.

Cognizant of these growing evils, and believing that they are susceptible of removal, they have repeatedly and publicly protested against the longer tolerance of such manifest causes of disease and death in our city. Large bodies of influential citizens have been equally impressed with the importance of radical reform in the health organizations of New York, and have strenuously labored, but in vain, to obtain proper legislative enactments.

To give practical effect to their efforts, it was determined in May last to undertake a systematic investigation of the sanitary condition of the city. For this purpose a central organization was formed, and when I mention the names of its leading members, I A Systematic
Investigation give you the best assurance that the work was undertaken in the interests of science and humanity. The president was Dr. Joseph M. Smith, one of the ablest writers on sanitary science in this country, and among its members were Drs. Valentine Mott, James Anderson, Willard Parker, Alonzo Clark, Gurdon Buck, James R. Wood, Charles Henschel, Alfred C. Post, Isaac E. Taylor, John W. Draper, R. Ogden Doremus, Henry Goulden, Henry D. Bulkley, and Elisha Harris.

In prosecuting this inquiry the Association was guided by the experience of similar organizations in Great Britain, where sanitary science is now cultivated with the greatest zeal, and is yielding the richest fruits. As a preliminary step to the introduction of sanitary reforms, many of the populous towns of England made a more or less complete inspection of the homes of the people to determine their condition, and to enable them to arrive at correct conclusions as to the required remedial measures. The English Government undertook a similar investigation through its “Commissioners for Inquiring into the State of Large Towns and Populous Districts,” and the voluminous and exhaustive reports of that Commission laid the foundation of the admirable sanitary system of that country.

The first object of sanitary organization was apparently, therefore, to obtain detailed information as to the existing causes of disease and the mortality of the population, and as to the special incidence of that mortality upon each sex, and each age, on separate places, on various occupations; in fact, to present a detailed account of what may be called, in commercial phrase, our transactions in human life.

Evidently the best method of arriving at such knowledge was by a systematic inspection. And that inspection must be a house-to-house visitation, in which the course of inquiry not only developed all the facts relating to the sanitary, but A House-to-House
Inspection equally to the social condition of the people. It must necessarily be required of the inspector that he visit every house, and every family in the house, and learn by personal examination, inquiry, and observation, every circumstance, external and internal to the domicile, bearing upon the health of the individual.

To perform such service satisfactorily, skilled labor must be employed. No student of general science, much less a common artisan, was qualified to undertake this investigation into the causes of disease; however patent these causes might be, he had no power to appreciate their real significance. Minds trained by education, and long experience in observing and treating the diseases of the laboring classes, could alone thoroughly and properly accomplish the work proposed.

Happily, experts were at hand and prepared to enter upon the task, viz.: the dispensary physicians. The daily duties of these practitioners have been for years to practice among the poor, and study minutely their diseases; and thus they have gained an The Medical
Experts extensive and accurate knowledge of the sanitary and social condition of the mass of the people. Many of these practitioners have been engaged in dispensary service, and in a single district, for ten to twenty years. They have thus become so familiar with the poor of their district, though often numbering 40,000 to 50,000, that they know the peculiarities of each house, the class of disease prevalent each month of the year, and to a large extent the habits, character, etc., of the families which occupy them.

From this class of medical men the Council selected, as far as possible, its corps of Inspectors. As a body, they represent the best medical talent of the junior portion of the profession of New York. Many occupy high social positions, and all were men of refinement, education, and devotion to duty. They entered upon the work with the utmost enthusiasm; engaging in it as a purely scientific study.

Everywhere the people welcomed the Inspectors, invited them to examine their homes, and gave them the most ample details.

The plan of inspection adopted by the Council was as follows: The city was divided into thirty-one districts and an Inspector selected for each, care being taken to assign to each inspector a district with which he was most familiar. Plan of
Inspection The Inspector was directed to commence his inspection by first traversing the whole district, to learn its general and topographical peculiarities. He was then to take up the squares in detail, examining them consecutively as they lie in belts.

Commencing at a given corner of his district, he was first to go around the square and note: 1. Nature of the ground. 2. Drainage and sewerage. 3. Number of houses in the square. 4. Vacant lots and their sanitary condition. 5. Courts and alleys. 6. Rear buildings. 7. Number of tenement houses. 11. Drinking shops, brothels, gambling saloons, etc. 12. Stores and markets. 13. Factories, schools, crowded buildings. 14. Slaughter-houses (describe particularly). 15. Bone and offal nuisances. 16. Stables, etc. 17. Churches and school edifices.

Returning to the point of starting, he was to commence a detailed inspection of each building, noting: a. Condition and material of buildings. b. Number of stories and their height. c. Number of families intended to be accommodated, and space allotted to each. d. Water supply and house drainage. e. Location and character of water-closets. f. Disposal of garbage and house slops. g. Ventilation, external and internal. h. Cellars and basements, and their population. i. Conditions of halls and passages. j. Frontage on street, court, alley—N., E., S. or W. 18. Prevailing character of the population. 19. Prevailing sickness and mortality. 20. Sources of preventible disease and mortality. 21. Condition of streets and pavements. 22. Miscellaneous information.

He entered each room, examined its means of ventilation and its contents, noted the number of occupants by day and by night, and carefully estimated the cubical area to each person. Whenever any contagious or infectious disease was discovered, as Each Room
Examined fever, smallpox, measles, scarlatina, the Inspector made a special report upon the dwelling. This report embodied specific answers to a series of questions, furnished in a blank form, requiring him 1. To trace and record the medical history of the sick person. 2. To ascertain and record facts relating to the family and other persons exposed to the patients and to the causes of the malady. 3. To report the sanitary condition of the domicil. 4. To report the statistics and sanitary condition of the population of that domicil. 5. To report upon the sanitary condition of the locality or neighborhood and its population. 6. To preserve and make returns of these records. 7. To prepare on the spot the necessary outlines or data for the sketching of a map or descriptive chart of the domicil, block, or locality.

Each Inspector was supplied with a notebook and a permanent record-book; in the first he constantly made notes as his examination proceeded, and in the latter these notes were expanded and put on permanent record. These permanent record-books are the property of the Association and embrace for the most part minute details concerning every building and tenement occupied by the laboring classes, as also, grog-shops, stables, vacant lots, slaughter-houses, etc.

Each Inspector was furnished with materials for drawing, and was directed to make accurate drawings of the squares in his district, locating each building, vacant lot, etc., and distinguishing the character and condition of each by an appropriate color. Many of these drafts of districts are beautiful specimens of art, and as sanitary charts enable the observer to locate infectious and contagious diseases, and with the aid of the permanent records, to determine the internal and external domiciliary conditions under which they occur.

I have been thus minute in specifying the details of the plan of inspection, the qualifications of the Inspectors, and the means employed, in order that the character of the work and the value of the results obtained may be properly appreciated.

Early in the month of May the work of thoroughly inspecting the insalubrious quarters, where fever and other pestilential diseases prevail, had been commenced, and the fact was soon ascertained that smallpox and typhus fever were existing and spreading Period of the
Inspection in almost every crowded locality of the city. It was not until about the middle of July that the entire corps of Inspectors was engaged. The work was then prosecuted with vigor and without interruption to the middle of November, when it was completed. The Inspectors met regularly every Saturday evening to report to a committee on the part of the Council the progress of their work, and to receive advice and instruction in regard to all questions of a doubtful character.

On the completion of the inspection each Inspector was required to prepare a final report embodying the general results of his labors. These reports have all been properly collated, under the direction of the Association, and are now passing through the press. They will soon appear in an octavo volume of about 400 pages, largely illustrated, with maps and diagrams. It will be the first interior view of the sanitary and social condition of the population of New York, and will abundantly demonstrate the fact that, though a great and prosperous commercial centre, she does not afford happy homes to hundreds of thousands.

Before proceeding to an analysis of this work, it will be necessary to notice the topographical peculiarities of our city, and the distribution of its population. New York is an island having an area of about thirty-four square miles, inclusive of its Distribution of
Population parks. Unlike Philadelphia, London, and most other large cities, which have a background of hundreds of square miles upon which to extend according to the exigencies of the population or of business, New York is limited in its power of expansion, and must accommodate itself to its given area. While it is true that a large business population will gather upon the adjacent shores, it is equally true that these non-residents will be of the better class. The laboring population will, for the most part, remain upon the island, and must be accommodated in the city proper, as they are compelled to live near their work.

New York has, thus far, grown without any control or supervision, until its population is estimated at 1,000,000 of persons. Of this number, at least one-half are of the laboring and dependant classes, compelled to live under such conditions as they find in their homes, without any power, either to change or improve them. Following the natural law which governs the movements of such a population, the wealthier or independent class spreads itself with its business arrangements over the larger proportion of the area, and the poorer or dependent class is crowded into the smallest possible space.

Already New York has covered about 8 of its 34 square miles with the dwellings of a population not far from 1,000,000, and all its commercial and manufacturing establishments. And the result is, as might have been anticipated, the dependent Tenant-House
Packing class, numbering fully one-half of the people, is crowded into tenant-houses which occupy an area of not more than two square miles. Such crowding amounts literally to packing.

For example, it is estimated that there are three contiguous blocks of tenant-houses which contain a larger population than Fifth Avenue; or, again, if Fifth Avenue had front and rear tenant-houses as densely packed as tenant-houses generally are, there would be a population of 100,000 on that single avenue. A single tenant-court in the Fourth Ward is arranged for the packing of 1,000 persons.

A resident of the same Ward reports that: “On a piece of ground 240 feet by 150, there are 20 tenant-houses, occupied by 111 families, 5 stables, a large soap and candle factory, and a tan-yard, the receptacle of green hides. The filth and stench of this locality are beyond any power of description.” In general, it may be stated that the average number of families to a house among the poor is 7, or about 35 persons.

It is necessary also to make a single explanation, to render more apparent the bearing of the facts developed. For the purposes of sanitary inquiry, the causes of disease are divided into those which are inevitable, and those Avoidable and
Inevitable Disease which are avoidable or removable, and hence it follows that diseases and deaths are divided into those which are inevitable and those which are preventable. For example: Of unavoidable causes of disease, we have vicissitudes of weather, accidents, old age, physical degenerations, etc.

Of avoidable or removable causes of disease we have those conditions around or within our dwellings or places of business or resort, errors in our mode of living, etc., which vitiate health, or rather tend to diseases, and yet which can be removed or changed by human agency. For example, a country residence may be most favorably located for health, and yet decaying vegetable matter in the cellar, or a cesspool so situated as to allow the gaseous emanations to be diffused through the house, will expose all the inmates to fevers, diarrhoea and dysentery.

These would be preventable diseases, and all the deaths therefrom would be preventable, and hence unnecessary deaths. In like manner in cities, all diseases and deaths due to causes which human agencies can remove are preventable. And it is a melancholy fact that fifty per cent of the mortality of cities is estimated to be due to such causes, and is hence unnecessary.

In reviewing the result of this inspection, I shall call your attention only to the more patent causes of disease found existing, and to the preventable diseases discovered, and their relation to these causes. In this evidence you will find ample proof that radical reforms are required in the health organizations of New York.

I will first notice the causes of disease which exist external to our dwellings, and which are the most readily susceptible of remedy. The first that attracts attention in New York is the condition of the streets. No one can Filthy
Streets doubt that if the streets in a thickly populated part of a town are made the common receptacle of the refuse of families, that in its rapid decomposition a vast amount of poisonous gases must escape, which will impregnate the entire district, penetrate the dwellings, and render the atmosphere in the neighborhood in a high degree injurious to the public health. In confirmation of this statement, I will quote the City Inspector, who, in a former communication to the Common Council, says:

“As an evidence of the effect of this state of things upon the health of the community, I would state that the mortality of the city, from the first of March, has been largely on the increase, until it has now reached a point of fearful magnitude. For the week ending April 27th, there were reported to this department one hundred and forty more deaths than occurred during the same week of the previous year. Were this increase of mortality the result of an existing pestilence or epidemic among us, the public would become justly alarmed as to the future; but although no actual pestilence, as such, exists, it is by no means certain that we are not preparing the way for some fatal scourge by the no longer to be endured filthy condition of our city.”

The universal testimony of the sanitary inspectors is that in all portions of the city occupied by the poorer classes, the streets are in the same filthy condition as that described by the City Inspector, and, that street filth is one of the most fruitful causes of disease.

Says the Inspector of the Eighth Ward: “Laurens, Wooster, Clark, and Sullivan are in a most filthy condition, giving off insalubrious emanations on which depend the many cases of fever, cholera infantum, dysentery, and pulmonary diseases. I have Street Filth
and Disease observed that near where other streets cross the above-named streets there is a greater proportionate amount of sickness; and this fact I have shown by special reports of typhus and typhoid fever in Grand and Broome, and dysentery in Spring.”

The Inspector of the Sixth Ward says: “Domestic garbage and filth of every kind is thrown into the streets, covering their surface, filling the gutters, obstructing the sewer culverts, and sending forth perennial emanations which must generate pestiferous disease. In winter the filth and garbage, etc., accumulate in the streets, to the depth sometimes of two or three feet. The garbage boxes are a perpetual source of nuisance in the streets, filth and offal being thrown all around them, pools of filthy water in many instances remaining in the gutters, and having their source in the garbage boxes.”

The Inspector of the Seventh Ward says: “The whole most easterly portion of the district, the streets and gutters are very filthy with mud, ashes, garbage, etc.”

The Inspector of the Thirteenth Ward says: “The streets are generally in a filthy and unwholesome condition; especially in front of the tenant-houses, from which the garbage and slops are, to a great extent, thrown into the streets, where they putrefy, rendering the air offensive to the smell and deleterious to health. The refuse of the bedrooms of those sick with typhoid and scarlet fevers and smallpox is frequently thrown into the streets, there to contaminate the air, and, no doubt, aid in the spread of those pestilential diseases.”

Says the Inspector of the Ninth Ward: “The effect of dirty streets upon the public health is too well known, and too often insisted upon, to need any exposition in this report. The largest number of cases of cholera infantum, cholera morbus, and kindred disease, is always found in localities where the streets are dirtiest.”

The Inspector of the Seventeenth Ward writes: “The two following localities present the appearance of dung-hills rather than the thoroughfares in a civilized city, viz.: Sixth Street, between Bowery and Second Avenue, and Eleventh Street, between First and Second Avenues.”

The Inspector of the Eleventh Ward says: “As a rule, the streets are extremely dirty and offensive, and the gutters obstructed with filth. The filth of the streets is composed of Animals
Dead house-slops, refuse vegetables, decayed fruit, store and shop sweepings, ashes, dead animals, and even human excrements. These putrifying organic substances are ground together by the constantly passing vehicles. When dried by the summer’s heat, they are driven by the wind in every direction in the form of dust. When remaining moist or liquid in the form of “slush,” they emit deleterious and very offensive exhalations. The reeking stench of the gutters, the street filth, and domestic garbage of this quarter of the city, constantly imperil the health of its inhabitants. It is a well-recognized cause of diarrhoeal diseases and fevers.”

The Inspector of the Eighteenth Ward reports: “The streets in the eastern part of the district, east of First Avenue especially, have, for the past six months, been in a most inexcusably filthy condition. The pavement here is uneven, there are deep gutters at either side of the streets, filled with foul slops, in which float or are sunk every form of decaying animal and vegetable matter. Occasionally, at remote and irregular intervals, carts come round, these stagnant pools are dredged, so to speak, and their black and decayed solid contents raked out. If there be anything on earth that is ‘rank and smells to heaven,’ these gutters do on such occasions, especially in the summer months. The streets in this part of the city are the principal depositories of garbage. In some instances heaped up at the sides of the streets, in others thrown about promiscuously, the event in either case is the same, if it be allowed to remain day after day, as it usually is. After having passed through every stage of decay, after having corrupted the surrounding air with its pestilential smell, it gradually becomes dessicated and converted into dust by the summer sun and the constantly passing vehicles. And now every horse that passes stirs it up, every vehicle leaves a cloud of it behind; it is lifted into the air with every wind and carried in every direction.

“Those who are directly responsible for this state of things suffer no more than the cleanly and thrifty who are so unfortunate as to live anywhere the wind, blowing from this quarter, reaches them. And what a pulvis compositum is it to breathe into the lungs! As we pass by, our mouths become full of it, we draw it in with our breath. It is swallowed into the stomach, it penetrates our dress and clings until it has covered our perspiring skin. Surely no dumping-ground, no sewer, no vault, contains more filth or in greater variety than did the air in certain parts of our city during the long season of drought the past summer. And wherever the wind blows, the foul corruption is carried; by a process as sure and universal as the diffusion of gases, is it conveyed throughout the city. Such, often, is the air drawn into the lungs with every respiration, of the poor sufferer stifled with consumption or burning with fever. No barrier can shut it out, no social distinction can save us from it; no domestic cleanliness, no private sanitary measures can substitute a pure atmosphere for a foul one.”

But I need not multiply these quotations. It will suffice to state that during the week ending August 5th, a special inspection of all the streets was made and they were found to be reeking, and, indeed, almost impassable, with filth. And to-day they are in, if possible, a still worse condition than ever before.

Closely allied to the streets are courts and alleys. These cul-de-sacs leading to, and adjoining the close and unventilated homes of the poor, are almost universally in a more filthy condition than the adjacent street. They are the receptacles of much of Filthy Courts
and Alleys the waste of the house, and are rarely cleaned. The air of these places during the summer is often the most stifling and irrespirable, and yet as it descends it enters the closely packed tenant-house and furnishes to the inmates the elements of disease and death. Says the Inspector of the Fourth Ward:

“Slops from rear buildings of such premises are usually emptied into a shallow gutter cut in the flagging and extending from the yard, or space between front and rear buildings, to the street. This is often clogged up by semi-fluid filth, so that the alley and those parts of the yard through which it runs are not infrequently overflown and submerged to the depth of several inches. There are more than four hundred families in this district whose homes can only be reached by wading through a disgusting deposit of filthy refuse. In some instances, a staging of plank, elevated a few inches above the surface, is constructed through the alleys.”

In the court is found generally that most pestiferous of all the sources of civic uncleanliness and unhealthiness—the privy and cesspool. These receptacles are rarely drained Cesspool
Abominations into the sewers, and consequently require for their cleanliness the frequent and faithful attention of the scavenger. The reports of the sanitary inspectors prove that this work is most irregularly and imperfectly done. Hundreds of places were found where these nuisances existed within, under or beside large tenant-houses, creating a vast amount of disease and death. Numerous instances of this kind are detailed in these reports, which are almost too revolting to be believed. I will quote but one or two illustrations:

“The privies (two in one) of Nos. — and — West Twenty-fourth Street need instant cleaning. They are overflowing the yard, and are very offensive. The privy No. — Seventh Avenue, as in the preceding two adjoining houses, is in the yard, and adjoins the house, and is on a line with the southerly wall of house No. — (the adjacent house), which has a back area; the wall of said area being part of the foundation of the privy. At times the fluid portion of the privy oozes through its own and the area wall.

“The privy of the rear tenant-house No. — West Twenty-second Street is used by 42 persons; it has five subdivisions, one for every two families. The compartments are so small that a person can scarcely turn round in them, and so dark that they have to be entered with an artificial light. The cellar itself, as has been stated, is damp, dark, and without ventilation. Under such circumstances the emanations of the excrementious matter of 42 persons can find no escape; thus this privy-cellar is worse than a Stygian pit.”

The Inspector of the Fifth Ward says: “Very few tenements have water-closets in the house; they have privies in the yards, which, as a rule, are insufficient for the accommodation of the numbers crowded into the houses; many are not connected with the sewers; are seldom cleaned, being allowed to overflow in some cases, rendering the neighborhood offensive with insalubrious emanations.”

The Inspector of the Fourteenth Ward states that: “The water-closets are nearly all in the yards—but few being in the houses—and connecting with the sewers. The greater number of these sewers are in a filthy condition, being but seldom emptied. Many of those which communicate with the privies are choked up by all sorts of offal being thrown into them, thereby producing a very bad condition.”

The Inspector of the Seventeenth Ward reports: “The privies of East Eleventh Street, rear, are beneath the floored alley-way leading to the building. Large holes in this floor allow ocular inspection from above, and admit rain and dirt. These nuisances Unbelievable
Vileness are almost always overflowing, and the passage leading to them is full of fæcal matter. It would seem impossible for human beings to create or endure such vileness. The cellar is used by children and others as a privy; the foul air there seems never to change.”

The Inspector of the Sixteenth Ward says: “The privies form one end of the chief features of insalubrity. Nearly all of them are too small in size and too few in number, and without ventilation or seat-covers. About twelve were found locked securely, and on procuring the key and inspecting the privy, such masses of human excrements were found on the seats and floors as would justify the locking of the door to protect unwary persons from injury. Occupants of rear buildings are the principal sufferers from this insalubrity. The proximity of privies is in some cases eight feet from the windows of rear houses; the odor in these is, especially at night, intolerable. Instances of the kind are to be found at Nos. —, — and — West Seventeenth Street, and others. They are also too few in number; for example, No. — West Nineteenth Street, where in the front and rear buildings more than one hundred persons live who have one common privy, with a single partition dividing it, and but four seats in all. Twenty-five persons are expected to use one seat-opening.”

The Inspector of the Twentieth Ward says: “During my inspection I reported a number which were filled, and at the same time in such need of repair as to hazard the lives of those who entered them. The proximity of these places to the houses in many cases is a fact to which I would call your attention. One instance of this kind I may state: At a house in Fortieth Street, between Broadway and Seventh Avenue, the privy is situated about 10 feet from the door, and there is another on a line 10 feet from the first, and still another within 10 feet of the last mentioned, making three privies within 30 feet, and two of these belong to houses fronting on Broadway. The offensive odor arising from these places contaminates the air of the houses in the vicinity. This house, in Fortieth Street, is actually unfit to live in. At the time of my inspection the noxious gases from these privies were strongly perceptible in every part of the house.”

The Inspector of the Seventeenth Ward reports: “The privies are in most cases in the rear court-yard. In about two-thirds of the houses the privies are connected with the sewer. Overflowing privies are frequently found. Sometimes they are located in a dark place, which in all cases must be considered an evil. Such is the case in some houses in Rivington, Stanton, Ninth and Eldridge streets. All these places are filthy, and exceedingly offensive and dangerous to the whole neighborhood; in some places the foundation of the privies being rotten and broken, and fæcal matter runs into the cellar, as in No. — ‘Extra Place,’ where diseases and deaths have occurred. The contents of a privy in a court at No. — Fifth Street have, from a similar cause, saturated the yard of premises on the Bowery, where several children died during the summer.”

I will at this point simply allude to special nuisances. New York has within the narrow limits of its present occupied area of about eight square miles, in addition to its one million of people, and all its commercial and manufacturing Special
Nuisances establishments, a vast number of special nuisances, which are, to a greater or less degree, detrimental to its public health. There are nearly 200 slaughter-houses, many of which are in the most densely populated districts. To these places droves of cattle, hogs, and sheep are constantly driven, rendering the streets filthy in the extreme, and from them flow blood and refuse of the most disgusting character.

In certain populous sections are fat-boiling, entrails-cleansing, and tripe-curing establishments, which poison the air for squares around with their stifling emanations. To these must be added hundreds of uncleaned stables, immense manure heaps, etc., etc. But I shall not dwell further on these subjects, and the evidence regarding them.

I pass from the consideration of the external to the internal domiciliary conditions. The poorer classes of New York are found living either in cellars or in tenement houses. It is estimated by the City Inspector that 18,000 persons live in cellars. This Cellar Population—
Dens of Death is also about the estimate of the police. The apartments of these people are not the light and airy basement rooms of the better class houses, but their homes are, in the worst sense, cellars. These dark, damp and dreary abodes are seldom penetrated by a ray of sunlight, or enlivened by a breath of fresh air. I will quote several descriptions from these reports. In the Fourth Ward many of these cellars are below tide water. Says the Inspector of that district:

“This submarine region is not only excessively damp, but is liable to sudden inroads from the sea. At high tide the water often wells up through the floors, submerging them to a considerable depth. In very many cases the vaults of privies are situated on the same or a higher level, and their contents frequently ooze through the walls into the occupied apartments beside them. Fully one-fourth of these subterranean domiciles are pervaded by a most offensive odor from this source, and rendered exceedingly unwholesome as human habitations. These are the places in which we most frequently meet with typhoid fever and dysentery during the summer months. I estimate the amount of sickness of all kinds affecting the residents of basements and cellars, compared with that occurring among an equal number of the inhabitants of floors above ground, as being about a ratio of 3 to 2.”

The Inspector of the Fifteenth Ward reports: “In a dark and damp cellar, about 18 feet square and 7 feet high, lived a family of seven persons; within the past year two have died of typhus, two of smallpox, and one has been sent to the hospital with erysipelas. The tops of the windows of this abode are below the level of the surface, and in the court near are several privies and a rear tenant-house. Yet this occurred but a short distance from the very heart of the city.”

The Inspector of the Ninth Ward writes: “At Nos. —, —, — and — Hammond Street, and also at No. — Washington Street, are inhabited cellars, the ceilings of which are below the level of the street, inaccessible to the rays of the sun, and always damp and dismal. Three of them are flooded at every heavy rain, and require to be baled out. They are let at a somewhat smaller rent than is asked for apartments on an upper floor, and are rented by those to whom poverty leaves no choice. They are rarely vacant.”

The Inspector of the Seventeenth Ward states that: “In 17 squares 55 houses contain 246 persons living in cellars entirely underground. As a matter of course such cellars are unhealthy dwelling apartments. Stanton Place has some of these miserable cellar-apartments, in which diseases have been generated. These cellars are entirely subterranean, dark and damp.”

The Inspector of the Sixth Ward says: “There has been some improvement within the last few years—the cellar population having been perceptibly decreased, yet 496 persons still live in damp and unwholesome quarters under ground. In some of 496 Persons
Under Ground them water was discovered trickling down the walls, the source of which was sometimes traced to the courts and alleys, and sometimes to the soakage from the water-closets. The noxious effluvia always present in these basements are of a sickening character. Many of the cellars are occupied by two or three families; a number are also occupied as lodging-houses, accommodating from twenty to thirty lodgers. One, near the corner of Elm and Worth streets, is now fifteen or sixteen feet below the level of the street (the street having been raised ten feet). The lodging-house keeper complained to the Inspector that her business had fallen off some since the street was raised. As might be expected, the sickness rate is very high; rheumatic disease, fevers, strumous diseases, cholera infantum, etc., etc., running riot among the population. Indeed, in nearly every basement disease of some kind has been found peculiarly prevalent and fatal.”

Another Inspector says: “At No. — West Sixteenth Street, two families, in which are thirteen persons, occupy the basement. It is so dark that ordinary type can be seen with difficulty. In the other case the people were healthy before entering the basement; since, however, they have been ill; the mother has phthisis. Of twenty-four cellars, note of which has been made, four only were in good sanitary condition. The rest were more or less filthy, some indescribably so. One contained urine, bones, and soakage from the privy.”

The Inspector of the Eighteenth Ward writes: “There are a few cellars so dark that one cannot see to read in them, unless by artificial light, except for a few hours in the day, by sitting close to the window; and there are many basement rooms into whose gloomy recesses not a single direct ray from the sun ever shone. The latter are, as a rule, by half their depth below the level of the street. Dark and damp, with very little chance for circulation of air, it would be difficult to imagine a human being more completely beyond reach of sanitary provisions. And when we consider that four large families often crowd this subterranean floor, no words are needed to show their condition deplorable. That a generally impaired vitality is promoted by living in this unnatural way, ‘a nameless, ever new disease,’ there can be no question; that these people will be especially prone to whatever form of prevailing sickness may be about in the community, no one can doubt; but whether there is any specific cause involved, capable of producing definite forms of disease, is more difficult to determine.”

An Inspector thus describes a visit to one of these subterranean abodes: “We enter a room whose low ceiling is blackened with smoke, and its walls discolored with damp. In front, opening on a narrow area covered with green mould, two small windows, A Visit to the
Cave-Dwellers their tops scarcely level with the court-yard, afford at noonday a twilight illumination to the apartment. Through their broken panes they admit the damp air laden with effluvia, which constitutes the vital atmosphere inhaled by all who are immured in this dismal abode. A door at the back of this room communicates with another which is entirely dark, and has but this one opening. Both rooms together have an area of about eighteen feet square.

“The father of the family, a day laborer, is absent. The mother, a wrinkled crone at thirty, sits rocking in her arms an infant whose pasty and pallid features tell that decay and death are usurping the place of health and life. Two older children are in the street, which is their only playground, and the only place where they can go to breathe an atmosphere that is even comparatively pure. A fourth child, emaciated to a skeleton, and with that ghastly and unearthly look which marasmus impresses on its victims, has reared his feeble frame on a rickety chair against the window sill, and is striving to get a glimpse of the smiling heavens, whose light is so seldom permitted to gladden its longing eyes. Its youth has battled nobly against the terrible morbid and devitalizing agents which have oppressed its childish life—the poisonous air, the darkness, and the damp; but the battle is nearly over—it is easy to decide where the victory will be.”

But I need not multiply the evidences that 18,000 people, men, women, and children (a goodly-sized town), are to-day living in our city in a condition the most destructive to health, happiness, and morals that could possibly be devised. As you look into these abodes of wretchedness, filth and disease, the inmates manifest the same lethargic habits as animals, burrowing in the ground. They are, indeed, half narcotized by the constant inhalation of the emanations of their own bodies, and by a prolonged absence of light and fresh air. Here we never find sound health, while the constant sickness rate ranges from 75 to 90 per cent.

Now, as to the second condition under which we find the laboring classes. It is estimated by the police that the tenant-house population of New York reaches the enormous figure of 500,000 or about half of the total number of inhabitants. Tenant-House
Population The great and striking fact in regard to the domiciliary condition of the tenant-house class is overcrowding and deficient sunlight and fresh air. The landlord of the poor tenant-house has two principal motives—first, to pack as many people as he can in a given space, and second, to make as few improvements and repairs as possible.