CHAPTER I
WHAT I KNOW ABOUT THE TOMBS
No prison on the American continent has had such an unsavory reputation as a corrupt grafting institution as the New York Tombs. This has been especially true when City politics had decreed it to be in charge of the House of Grafters on Fourteenth Street.
In giving my personal experience of what I have beheld with my own eyes in America’s greatest criminal barracks, I do so with the sole object of letting the light in, and making it easier, if possible, for future unfortunates who may be domiciled here for any length of time.
For many years the Tombs Prison has been the happy hunting ground for graft and “rake-offs” of various kinds, given in return for all kinds of privileges. Money has always been used to awaken the darkest passions in man, those who are mad for the “dough” take all kinds of chances to secure it.
To the daily visitor who comes to the City Prison, everything looks beautiful and serene on the outside. But the careful observer sees things in a different light and as he reads between the lines he can detect the spurious from the genuine.
In endeavoring to carry on the work of a prison from a business standpoint we must rid ourselves of everything romantic and deal only with facts and common sense. It is not a pleasant task to expose infamy, no matter where it is found. And you can rest assured that the one who dares do it will be rewarded with invective, abuse and slander. On the other hand, to pass it by without making some effort to change the wretched conditions is cowardly.
The stories told of the abuses of the Tombs seem as strange as the Arabian Nights! But most of them were true and would have made fine reading for the average New Yorker, but graft kept them out of the newspapers and from publicity.
One of the earliest “bombs” that struck the City Prison, was hurled by an inmate named Ruth Howard during the sitting of the Mazet Committee, in 1897-8. The Committee threatened to make an investigation and expose the vile conditions which then existed. In her letter to the Committee, Mrs. Howard describes the place as grossly immoral and, of course, excoriated several of the officials by name. It was the general opinion at the time that if the case had been pushed against these Tammanyites they would soon be wearing striped suits either in Sing Sing or Blackwell’s Island. After this the Commissioner refused to allow certain ones to inspect the Women’s Prison.
For a number of years charges have been made at various times against the Tombs Prison in general and the Department of Corrections in particular, which many of our City newspapers and a score of criminal lawyers who have come in contact with the conditions have known to be true, but nothing has been done to clean out this sink of iniquity.
Whenever any person has had the courage to call attention to the grafting abuses, common assaults, whiskey and dope smuggling and other unseemly conduct of the Tombs officials, the usual response was “Traitor, humbug, liar,” and a volley of anathemas! Such an answer sufficed for the time being. Frequently these officials would resort to a “white wash” paper, signed by missionaries and other hangers-on in the building who would be compelled to affix their names to the document or else be “bounced.” It seems to me all such whitewash “buzzards” were no better than the real inmates of the cells!
I recall now when I first went there that there were two Wall Street swindlers in the old Prison who were said to be rich. They had sumptuous privileges. One of these crooks fought for his liberty in the state and federal courts but did not succeed, but as he had the ready cash on hand he found a good cell in the annex. He had everything he desired. The other man who was convicted, but had appealed for a stay, fought against being bled any longer and was removed to an inferior cell. I remember he sent out for reporters that he might give them a tale of oppression, but they were not allowed to see him. The “grafters” told the newspaper men that the fellow was crazy.
In those days some of the abuses were of a gross sensual character and had been going on for years but who would dare speak against them? And so the grafters had everything their own way!
I have nothing but kind words for the excellent work of the Hon. Thomas W. Hynes, who was an ideal Commissioner during the Mayor Low administration. Mr. Hynes was an honest, upright and fair Commissioner and sought in every way to keep his department clean. He removed Warden Flynn and it would have been well if the Courts had left him out as he certainly has made a poor Warden.
Whiskey, Gambling and Other Privileges
When Warden Bissert was an involuntary inmate of the Tombs in the fall of 1901, he had so many privileges and such an old-fashioned good time that many persons rightly concluded that he owned the City Prison. Not only did he eat, drink, smoke the best Havanas and play cards at the Warden’s table, but he was allowed to receive from ten to thirty plain clothes policemen as his visitors daily! They had no passes whatever when they came to the Tombs, but these were not necessary. All they were required to say to the gateman was, “We are the Wardman’s friends.” On Sunday afternoons, when everything was quiet, a woman was allowed to pass through the front gate, enter a cell and be with a prisoner for immoral purposes! The Keeper had orders to allow her pass into the prison. I watched her enter the corner cell in the annex, which had a gas jet, she came every Sunday for weeks and usually stayed an hour. Nor was this an uncommon occurrence. Francis J. Lantry was Commissioner of Corrections, James Hagan, Warden, and William Flynn, the present Warden, was head keeper. Did I speak about it at the time? Certainly. And an investigation was promised but like all of Tammany’s investigations it never came!
The city cops that came daily to see the wardman always brought a plentiful supply of whiskey. And judging from the number of empty bottles found around the ten-day house, the quantity consumed on the premises was enormous. And often keepers, “trusties” and prisoners were found more than half drunk.
In these days Joe Williams, ballot-box stuffer, who was afterwards sent to Sing Sing for a term of years, had special privileges. Joe was seldom locked in his cell night or day. Many months afterwards when I personally visited Auburn Prison, I found a man who had been at that time in the “hall” with Williams; he informed him that the reason Williams had so many privileges bestowed on him was on account of being the “graft collector” in the ten-day house.
Williams, “Jimmie” Maguire and other trusties, were often “paralyzed” drunk in the tiers with the whiskey brought in for Bissert’s benefit. “Jimmie” Maguire had been in the Tombs no less than twenty times to my knowledge for drunk and disorderly conduct, and worked most of the time in the kitchen under the colored chef.
Every afternoon when the visitors had gone, keepers and inmates in various parts of the prison sat down and boldly “picked out” the winners of the races. And some made “books.” Then an official would be dispatched to a pool room opposite the Criminal Court Building, said to be over Tom Foley’s gin mill. This kind of gambling was kept up in the Tombs daily, Sundays excepted, for years under Tammany Hall. The prisoners saw the officials gamble and they in turn made “pools” and sent their money where it could do the most good.
This gambling became such a nuisance that it became known on the outside. A gentleman well known around the Criminal Court Building told me afterwards that to make sure of the rumor he sent a betting “commissioner” to the pool room over Tom Foley’s saloon and he waited there till the Tombs runner came and laid several bets on the ponies.
When I saw how the poor unfortunates were being robbed and ruined, by the prison gamblers, I made bold to go to Lantry and asked him to stop it. I saw at once that I touched him, for he got red in the face. He called Warden Flynn over the telephone and gave him a “roasting.” What he said after I left the room, I have no idea, but when I reached the Tombs I found that some persons had been struck by a cyclone. Thanks to Mr. Lantry, the regular pool room messenger had been “fired” to Blackwells Island and for several weeks the gamblers in the prison went out of business. But in a short time the crooked work went on as brisk as ever. At any rate, I relieved my conscience of a painful duty in the matter and stopped the mean business for a season. I wish now that I had called on Mr. Jerome and he might have sent the “bunch” to the Penitentiary.
From that time on these gambling officials became my Nemesis. They hated to see me around the Tombs. Commissioner Lantry afterwards told me that I was the only person among Catholics, Jews and Protestant missionaries that ever personally complained against the rotten conditions in the Tombs. But then cowards are afraid to tell the truth!
Steerage
The way that lawyers have been robbed of their clients the past few years in the City Prison has become a public scandal. Almost every day there is a fight in the vicinity of the Counsel Room. It is the old story, some reputable lawyer is fighting for his rights because an official has stolen his client and given him to a “shyster.” It is said that thousands of dollars a year have been passed to certain ones, who have been the real “steerers,” and not the keepers. The Bar Association should investigate and remedy this evil. There are a dozen reputable lawyers in New York who are ready to furnish satisfactory evidence of this bare-faced thievery and grafting. These corrupt officials should be bounced, and a new Diogenes sent around the State with a searchlight under his wing in an endeavor to find some honest men to take their place.
Old time “steerers” in the palmy days made plenty of money in securing lawyers for prisoners. I recall a man who had secured a lawyer through one of his friends while in the District Prison. It was a homicide case. When he came to the Tombs one of the keepers persuaded him to give him up. The keeper approached him, thus, “Say, who is your lawyer?” “So and So,” was the reply. “Well, let me tell you, he is no good. You will have a chance of going to the Chair or away for life!” “It’s only manslaughter, my lawyer says.” “Don’t make any difference,” said the keeper, “I am telling you for your own good. Give him up. Why don’t you get Mr. ——?” So he secures Mr. —— and that keeper gets the graft from the lawyer.
When a certain politician was the boss of the City Prison, it was said by the knowing ones that all homicides as soon as they gave their pedigree at the desk were marched to the warden’s office where they were privately catechised to know whether any “steerer” of the prison had been giving them information about lawyers, and then informed that it was not necessary for them to go to Court to get counsel, that he would out of the goodness of his heart look after their interests and assign them a lawyer. Two or three shyster firms had the murder cases during this “regime,” at $500.00 per head, which was the amount of money allowed by the State for the defence of every murderer, less one-half, which went to the “grafter.” Thanks to Judge Rosalsky, who has made it a rule that no prisoner in the Tombs can change his attorney without the consent of the court.
The Prison Food
The bread given to the prisoner comes from Blackwell’s Island. It used to be said that it was an inferior quality to that given to the “cons” in the penitentiary. It was often so black that it had to be thrown away, and frequently the dogs would not eat it. The tea and coffee was colored water and the daily soup was mighty poor stuff. When I asked a wise official to explain, he said, “Can’t explain; some guy is getting rich.” It used to be a prisoner could get a small piece of meat once in a while if he paid the captain of the tier five cents! The Friday clam soup used to be horrible! They said it stank like the devil! Holy angels, what stuff to give to human beings. Hear the profane expressions of disapproval from the prisoners as it is taken to the cell doors. “D—— that chowder, take it away at once. The first time I ate it, it nearly killed me.” Perhaps from another tier could be heard as they passed the stinking stuff along, “Not for me. Send for the coroner and the grand jury, call Jerome.”
Abusing the Unfortunates
Some officials shamefully abuse the prisoners for a small offence and in turn the prisoners curse them in the vilest profanity.
In the early morning of July 4th, 1906, a colored man named Cambridge called loudly for help. A night keeper responded. When he reached the cell door he said, “What do you want?” The sick man replied, “Keeper, get me a doctor, I am very sick.” The answer of the official was, “Go to hell and put a cloth around your head.” In the morning Cambridge was carried to the hall where he died the following day. When I spoke to an official about it he said it was nobody’s damned business. But this was common treatment toward moneyless unfortunates!
Special Privileges
When a West Side gambler was in the Tombs charged with murder, he had a fresh bottle of whiskey brought to him almost daily and he made no bones of the matter. Of course, it could not come into the Tombs without money, of which B. had an abundance. One of the keepers said to me that he saw the warden drinking whiskey with the murderer in his cell. But this was nothing!
Scotty Young, who had spent two years in the Tombs awaiting trial, was another prisoner that had special privileges. Scotty bragged that he had his whiskey daily and none dared molest him. What kind of a “pull” he had, never could be learned, as he was never known to have any more money than he required for his personal needs. That “Scotty” had special privileges none can deny; when a keeper tried to take away a large piece of broken mirror, a pocket knife, a razor and other deadly things from him, he was told that the warden gave him special permission, and of course, that ended it.
The Grand Jury
Every month at the close of the term the Grand Jury pays a visit of inspection to the Tombs. This has been their custom for many years. As the warden knows they are coming he puts everything in a “spick and span” order. They receive unusual attention on all such occasions, the discipline is up to the highest pitch and the warden as a rule shows them around. But to the man who can read between the lines this is all “make believe.”
If the Grand Jury should visit the Tombs like a thief in the night, that is, unexpectedly, they would then see the place as it is and would not be imposed upon any longer. If the Grand Jury came to the Tombs on Friday and refused to be led around by the warden, but by a Court official, their eyes would be opened. Perhaps they could be induced to wait around till the noon hour, when they would have an opportunity of at least “smelling” the stinking chowder which the unfortunate inmates are compelled to eat or starve.
If any of the Grand Jury tried to eat some of this unpalatable stuff they would become so deathly sick that a doctor would have to be called and if they ever recovered we fear they would indict the warden on the spot!
Of course the monthly visit of the Grand Jury is known in advance. They are carefully piloted around through the halls where the floors have been mopped that morning and everything made to look “shiny” and neat for the occasion. As a rule they are taken through the new prison and down into the cellar where may be found the machinery all polished and bright.
I would like to lock some of these gentlemen in one of the cells for an hour or two. As is well known, many of these cells are “reeking” with vermin and filth. Not of the Tombs only, but some of the district prisons. I have seen men in the Tombs and in other prisons of the City, who had hardly become inmates before the vermin would literally be found crawling over them.
In summer time when the weather is warm and oppressive, the “Annex bug” (where the misdemeanants are kept) which is said to be an “Asiatic” brand of bug, comes out of the porous brick by thousands and for two or three months have their “fill” of human gore. I think the main trouble is with the bedding. It is sent to the Workhouse and washed about twice a year in ordinary water, instead of being boiled in a vat of carbolic acid or aqua fortis, and beaten for a few days with clubs. Not infrequently visitors and missionaries find vermin crawling over their clothing after they have returned to their homes.
Politics and the Prisons
I hope the time is not far distant when the prisons of greater New York will be conducted by the State authorities, as is the case in nearly all other countries. They are the proper custodians of the prisoner. It seems to me that this is the only cure for the rank abuses that have existed in these prisons for half a century. Under Tammany as everybody knows, the warden or other official could get as drunk as a lord, abuse everybody in sight and yet be considered a hero! Some men have been suspended for a few days but when the district leader took a hand in the matter that ended it.
Last election day, November, 1908, two members of the State Prison Commission visited Hart’s Island and found it deserted. The keepers and orderlies were scattered all over greater New York trying to pile up Tammany votes. For more than two years the Workhouse end of the Island has been in a state of pandemonium. Under Tammany Hall, politics always cuts a wide swath in prison matters. A keeper who refuses to work for votes on election day is considered “no good” and is recommended by the district leader for dismissal. If this cannot be done, “fake” charges are presented against him and unless he repents and returns to the “fold” he is bounced. One of the most intelligent keepers the Tombs ever had was Frank Smith. He knew his business so well that he was an authority on the various kinds of commitments. When Flynn became warden he was sent to Blackwell’s Island. If Frank told all he knew about the Tombs’ grafters there would have been a sensation! The old Book says “resist the devil and he will flee from you, but resist the Tammany grafters and they will fly at you!” As soon as any one tries to reform such a place he gets mud and filth thrown at him!
When W. R. Hearst ran for Mayor of New York, he had several warm friends among the keepers. At first they were not afraid to speak in his favor, but this was soon changed. Spies were sent to the prisons and the unlucky wights that favored him were given to understand that if they deserted Tammany they would lose their jobs, and the civil service law would not save them. Notwithstanding this “scare” a large number of the most intelligent keepers voted the Independence League ticket, but kept it to themselves. I have nothing but kind words for the rank and file of the keepers in the Tombs and the other New York prisons. I believe most of them try to do their duty faithfully.
After the scandalous sale or “give away” of Kings County Penitentiary, for one-sixth of its real value, the grafters said that it was done for economy’s sake, which is untrue, for soon after—from sixty to seventy keepers were transferred to the District Prisons of New York and Blackwell’s Island, where was an over supply already. The result was that ever since there have been two Wardens and two deputy Wardens in the New York Penitentiary, besides a superfluous number of keepers and orderlies in all penal institutions of greater New York.
At one time Hart’s Island had something like sixty extra men who were classed as stablemen and orderlies. They had absolutely nothing to do except to draw their pay and help the district leaders. Bitter complaints were made from time to time against a brother of the deputy who ran things with a high hand. If anybody complained against these scandalous conditions he would soon be “fired.” Tammany has no use for reformers. I do not think it possible to paint the New York prisons as black as they have been until recently. If a day of judgment ever comes when all the scandalous conditions shall be exposed to public view the people will be astonished.