STREET ARABS OF BOTH SEXES.
_The Pretty Flower and News Girls--The Young Wharf Rats and their
Eventful Lives--How they all Live, where they Come From, and where they
finally Finish their Career._
To the wealthy resident of Fifth avenue and other noted fashionable
thoroughfares, the incidents of actual every-day life that are here
revealed will read like a revelation. To the merchant and the business
man they may probably read like romance. To the thrifty mechanic,
however, who occupies a vastly different social sphere, who hurries to
his work in the morning, and with equal haste seeks to reach his home at
night, this chapter may, perhaps, cause a tear to glisten in his manly
eye when the facts, here written for the first time, meet his gaze, and,
may be, are associated with some young male or female relation or friend
who has "gone wrong." But to the officers of the Society for the
Suppression of Vice, and other kindred useful societies, newspaper men,
the police, and others whose daily vocations happen to keep them out
late o' nights, the truths here unfolded are of too frequent occurrence
and are too familiar sights to need any other corroborative evidence
than is supplied by their own experience and the exercise of their own
observation.
Youthful vice and depravity, of all grades, is, unfortunately, the
natural result of that civilization which finds its outgrowth in large
and necessarily closely-packed communities. Where ground is dear, poor
people must seek rooms in dwellings where the rent is cheap, and these
dwellings are, for the most part, erected in cheap neighborhoods--and
cheap neighborhoods mean questionable companionships and associations,
and bad associations beget a familiarity with immorality of all kinds.
No one can question the truth of this. For instance, the honest and
industrious mechanic, receiving fair wages for his work, must hire
lodgings or rooms in some tenement; he goes to work during the day,
leaving his wife, if he happens to have one, at home to perform those
hard household duties which fall to the lot of her class; the
children--and there are generally several, for one of the chief luxuries
within the reach of the poor is children--are allowed to take care of
themselves as best they can between times; they naturally go to the
streets to play; they have no gardens, with shady graveled walks running
between beds of bright flowers; no nursery, no governesses, no nurses
with French caps, and, shame be it said, hardly any public parks; there
are not even trees in this great city to cast a shade for these little
creatures in summer nor to help break the force of the wind in
winter--but they play in the streets just the same, and are under no
restraint whatever, and therein lies their temptation. What wonder that
they afterwards people the gilded palaces of vice "up-town," or fill the
prisons of the city and state?
They may be approached by any one, and they are led away by many.
Sometimes the ever-watchful and lynx-eyed Chinaman singles out some
pretty little girl, on the pretense that he has some curious things to
show her in his laundry. Sometimes an old, eminently respectable
gentleman (?) has a package of candy for the little girls. Sometimes,
again, bright-eyed young girls are attracted, like butterflies to bright
flowers, to the gaudy signs of the Bowery museums. Sometimes there are
other inducements, in the way of store windows, or a chance acquaintance
(and they are always around, too, these obliging acquaintances), and the
purchase of some trinkets, then a hotel, a room, and our little friend
has eaten of the apple. But this is premature.
The unconstrained freedom of the street, therefore, is undoubtedly one
great source of danger to the young but there are many others which, in
varying degrees, conspire to ensnare and corrupt them. So that the
wonder is that so many escape rather than that so many are
contaminated.
The manner in which poor people--the very poor--live in this city is, of
itself, fearfully demoralizing in its effects upon their children.
Oftener than otherwise, a family, in some cases six or seven in number,
will occupy but _two_ rooms; one, a kitchen, the other, a _sleeping_
apartment. In the latter room are sometimes the father, mother, one or
two daughters, say ten, twelve or fifteen years of age, and as many
sons, younger or older, as the case may be. Just think of it! think of
the tender age at which these children are familiarized with what should
be as a sealed book. Think of--what frequently happens--a drunken father
reeling to the marriage bed in such a room! Think of brothers and
sisters of such ages lying side by side, and think of the mistakes that
might occur when--which is possible--the whole family may have taken
liquor and the floor is one common bed. There are hundreds of families
living in this big, charitable city in this degrading manner. Is it any
surprise that children here are bad and criminally vicious at five years
of age and upwards?
It not infrequently happens that the parents of families so
circumstanced are sent to the "Island," in which case the children are
then, indeed, upon the streets. Yet they are so precocious and
resourceful that they generally are able to take care of themselves, and
so become flower girls, news girls, wharf rats, etc.
There are yet other causes which go to affect the lives of the children
of the poor. It sometimes happens that the happy and virtuous home of a
comparatively well-to-do mechanic is broken up by unforeseen
circumstances, against which no provident provision, except a life
insurance policy, could guard. The head of the family meets with some
serious accident, incapacitating him for labor, and straightway, instead
of being the breadwinner and family support, he becomes a care and a
burden. The poor wife is thrown upon her resources, and she naturally
invokes the assistance of her children in the desperate endeavor of
maintaining a roof over their heads. In this way the ranks of the flower
and news girls are frequently recruited.
Through the cursed effects of drink, the heads of many families are
frequently sent to the "Island" for from ten days to six months, and
when the sheltering arms of some beneficent society, or the kindly
offices of some good Samaritan, are not directed to the forlorn and
destitute condition of the children, the unfortunate young creatures are
forced upon the streets to beg, steal, sell papers, flowers, etc., and
also visit the offices of bankers and brokers, doing anything, in short,
to get the means to live. They live in the streets, sleep in hallways,
alleyways, anywhere, a prey to the first evil-disposed man that meets
them. It is a common sight to see children on the streets in all parts
of the metropolis--boys and girls--aged from five to fifteen years,
selling papers, shoplifting, stealing, and,--worse. Have they parents?
Who knows, who inquires, who cares? Some of them are very pretty girls,
too. All the worse for them.
The same causes which conspire to throw girls upon their own resources
to gain a livelihood, operate with the brothers; but the latter are more
fertile in means of accomplishing that end. Girls can only sell papers,
flowers or themselves, but boys can black boots, sell papers, run
errands, carry bundles, sweep out saloons, steal what is left around
loose everywhere, and gradually perfect themselves for a more advanced
stage and higher grade of crimes, finally developing into fully-fledged
and first-class criminals.
So much for the causes which help to create this class of street Arabs,
whom it is almost a labor of supererogation to describe, especially to
those who daily hear the familiar cries, "Telegram!" "News!" "Telegram!"
"New-es!" "Mail 'n' Express!" uttered chiefly by young girls, all over
the town. Pretty girls they are, too, many of them, with large, lustrous
eyes, long, well-oiled hair, nice shoes upon their feet, short dresses,
disclosing evidences of graceful forms, ruddy complexions, and armed
with many winsome little actions calculated to conciliate patronage.
They are to be seen on Park Row, the Bowery, Chatham street, around the
post-office, hotels, elevated railroad stations, the ferries leading to
Brooklyn, Jersey City and Staten Island--everywhere, in fact, where
there is a chance of disposing of the afternoon newspaper.
The larger number of these little girls emerge from their hiding-places
about eleven o'clock in the morning. Their hiding-places may have been a
hotel, an assignation house, their parents' homes, some hallway, the
News Girls' Lodging House, resorts in North William, Bayard, Hester, New
Bowery, or any other street in which cheap rooms can be obtained. It is
not to be presumed that all news-girls are bad; on the contrary, many
are very good, respectable little things, but a few only remain so, for
their associations are bad, and many men who purchase papers from them
are constantly tempting them, so that it is very difficult for any of
them to remain good for any length of time.
Be that as it may, however, the news girl in this case arrives down-town
about noon. She strolls down among the brokers and bankers, and in many
cases is winked at, conversed with and asked to visit different offices,
which invitation is generally accepted, for a little money is to be made
by the call, with which the afternoon papers are purchased. Sometimes
the selling of papers is merely a pretext under which a better
opportunity is afforded of conversing with men. The papers are hawked in
saloons, upon the streets, in cars, and other places. If any one should
chance to buy a paper and offers a nickel, the girl invariably has no
change; when the purchaser, nine times out of ten, tells her to keep the
change. They are extremely shrewd, smart, intelligent and wide awake.
Their papers all sold, about nine or ten o'clock at night they saunter
up Chatham street, the Bowery and other thoroughfares; or, if it is the
summer season, they will be found in the City Hall park, playing,
sitting on the benches, or accosting passing pedestrians. The Battery,
too, has its frequenters, and the piers and docks at night are crowded
with them. This life they pursue until they engage regularly in a life
of shame, by becoming regular boarders in some one of the many dives in
the cellars of Chatham street, the houses of prostitution in Forsyth,
Hester, Canal, Bayard and other streets. Or, again, they may be found
in the various pretty-waiter-girl saloons of the Bowery, or such
notorious resorts as Hilly McGlory's, Owney Geoghegan's, and so on. The
public parks, however, are favorite places, and they may be found even
in Union Square and Madison Square, and sometimes in Central Park. They
enjoy themselves, too, for they are often seen on picnics in summer and
at balls during the winter. They have their favorites among the opposite
sex, too, just as have more favored and aristocratic females. For the
love of one of these little girls--Mary Maguire--a member of the
notorious Mackerelville gang met a tragic end, at the hands of a jealous
rival in City Hall park, by being stabbed to death. Little Mary was only
fourteen years of age. She was afterwards sent to the House of the Good
Shepherd.
Newsboys are largely responsible for leading girls of this class into
the tempting paths of vice. In purchasing their papers at the newspaper
offices, generally in cellars, they are subjected to many indignities
and familiarities, which, at first resented, are gradually accepted as a
matter of course. Once the descent is begun, the journey is completed by
outsiders, until the girls become corrupt and unscrupulous, with a
knowledge of the ways of the world that would surprise many a matronly
head.
In many cases, girls of five and six years are sent out as decoys by the
larger ones to "rope in" customers; for detectives and agents of the
various societies, on the lookout for depraved girls, teach those young
Messalinas caution. When one of these smaller girls has secured a
customer she pilots the way to the place where the larger ones are to be
found. In one instance this was a cellar, under ground, not fifty feet
from the corner of Chatham and William streets; outwardly an oyster
saloon, but a door opened in a wooden partition, through which one
entered another room, and in which, at one time, there were actually no
less than nine small girls, ranging in age from ten to sixteen years.
There are a few places where these girls resort in the day-time and
remain all day, and where they are visited by regular frequenters of the
houses. Here, also, may be found those young girls who, leaving home in
the morning and telling their parents they are going to work, remain all
day; returning home again in the evening with, perhaps, a couple of
dollars in their pockets, and at the end of the week hand their parents
what the old people innocently suppose is the week's wages of their
daughters, honestly obtained.
There are old-time procuresses, who, having once been news-girls
themselves, know just how to proceed to capture recruits for Hester
street boarding-houses, and they obtain them, too, from the ranks
mentioned. Parents that drive their children in the streets to get
money, and beat them if they fail to fetch it home, are generally sure
to either make prostitutes of their little ones or have them run away
entirely, particularly when a tempting offer is made them by male or
female. There are thousands of men in this city, as well as there are in
London, who employ procuresses, whose efforts and operations,
unfortunately, are not confined to news-girls, but include the pretty
daughters of well-to-do mechanics and trades people.
Many of these girls become closely identified with the lives of
Chinamen, and it is astonishing how fond some of these girls become of
their almond-eyed protectors.
Should any observant individual pass through Elizabeth, Bleecker, Canal,
Hester, Bayard, Dover, Pell, Mott, Baxter, Rose, Chambers streets, and
the other localities mentioned, at night, he will see what becomes of
the pretty news-girls. But there are instances in which they have
obtained work in various factories and wholesale houses and remained
respectable.
Thus far, the news-girl. Of the pretty flower girl--she with the
engaging manner, and interesting face above a tray of flowers--not much
remains to be said, for she has almost become an institution of the
past. Thrown upon her own resources, from like causes affecting others
of her sex, she was once to be met with in the lobby of every theatre in
town, every resort where gentlemen were supposed to frequent,
club-houses, drinking saloons, omnibuses, cars, and the streets. Even
houses of ill fame found her gently and firmly looking for trade.
Wherever there was a chance to intercept a gentleman, there was she, and
her importunities to purchase were redoubled when a lady accompanied a
gentleman. They did a thriving business in the pretty-waiter-girl
saloons, for men could hardly escape them, and nearly all bought
bouquets for their favorites in those places.
It is safe to say that very few of the flower girls were virtuous. They
remained out until all hours of the night and plied a double trade,
selling both their flowers and themselves. There was one well-known
house in Thirteenth street which these little girls made a headquarters.
It was between Broadway and University place. The proprietress had no
other "ladies" but flower girls, as she found them more profitable,
charged them higher prices for accommodations, whether by the day or
week, and as but few places would assume the risk of harboring the
waifs, they were compelled to pay her extortionate rates.
Some time since a man could hardly pass along Fourteenth street or Union
Square, at night, without his being accosted by one of these girls, who,
instead of asking him to purchase flowers, would invariably remark,
"Give me a penny, mister?" by which term, afterwards, all these girls of
loose character were known to ply their trade. Many of these girls were
so exceedingly handsome as to be taken by gentlemen of means and well
cared for, and one instance is known where a flower girl married a very
wealthy man of middle age.
As a class, they were excessively immoral. They purchased their flowers,
out and out, from the florists and made handsome profits, amounting to
as much as two and three dollars a night when the weather was fine; but
their habits and immoralities became so patent that the societies put a
stop to their selling, by sending some to the House of the Good
Shepherd, and arresting others for soliciting and other unlawful acts;
so that to-day it is very much to be doubted if there are more than half
a dozen in the city.
"Wharf rats," street gamins, Arabs, and other euphonious terms are
applied to that class of boys, who, having no homes, make one for
themselves in the streets. They black boots--some of them--in the
day-time, sell newspapers in the afternoons, lie in wait for incoming
travelers from the trains to carry satchels, etc., and make a little
money from all sources to supply themselves with food and raiment. The
balance, if any is left, they spend in going to the gallery of some
theatre, visiting some museum, or adjourning to their favorite haunt--
which frequently is a low beer-dive in some obscure street, play pool or
cards or dice for drinks, and otherwise contrive to kill time, until
their "business" of the next day begins.
It used to be a familiar sight to see the saloons of Baxter, Mott and
Mulberry streets filled with these boys. It was only a few years ago
that they had their own theatre, yclept "The Grand Duke's Theatre," at
21 Baxter street, in the cellar under a stale beer dive, where really
clever performances were given of an imitative character, by a company
of boys; and which, by the way, was the only theatre which for years
defied the efforts of the authorities to collect the license. The
admission fee was ten cents, and curiosity seekers came from all parts
of the city to witness the really laughable and, in many cases,
meritorious character-sketches given within its damp walls. It was
subsequently broken up by the police.
Boys and girls appear to be alike in one respect--the streets of the
city are full of them at all hours of the day and night. The water,
however, would appear to act like a magnet upon the needle, having
peculiar attractions for them at all times, and to which vicinity, at
night in summer, they naturally gravitate. On the piers which jut out
into the rivers on all sides of the city, any one can see troupes of
gamins every warm, pleasant day. Some are fishing, others are pitching
pennies, others, again, playing various apparently harmless games, but
all with eyes for the main chance--an opportunity to steal anything
come-at-able. To the policeman who, from curiosity or to get a sniff of
sea breeze, chances to stroll upon the pier, he finds them all engaged
as described. Ships are unloading cargoes of assorted merchandise, which
is being placed upon the dock. Bags of coffee are in one place, chests
of tea in another, hogsheads of molasses and sugar, and various other
kinds of goods are distributed all over the place. Some boys are playing
"tag," and they run around and over the bags of coffee, behind the
hogsheads of sugar, ostensibly in play, but all the while keeping a
sharp eye on the watchmen, police and people employed there. A favorable
chance occurring, a boy drops behind one of the bags of coffee and
quickly and expeditiously rips it open with a sharp knife and bounds
away. The coffee thus loosened freely discharges itself upon the dock in
a little heap. In like manner a knot in the wood forming a head in a
barrel of sugar is knocked out, leaving a round hole, into which the
Arab thrusts a long, thin stick and, dexterously withdrawing it,
contrives to pull out considerable sugar. The bung of a molasses barrel
is burst in, a stick inserted, which, when pulled out, has some of the
contents thickly adhering to it. Thus much accomplished, every boy
provides himself with an old tomato or other can, and it would surprise
anyone not familiar with these things, to see how rapidly and
ingeniously these dock rats will fill those cans to overflowing with all
kinds of goods, from the openings thus made in the vessel containing
them.
These same tactics are employed by the street gamins in front of those
grocery stores where barrels, boxes and cases are placed upon the
sidewalk, and it is almost an impossibility for any one but the sharpest
to catch them thus stealing, so clever and adroit are they. One of their
very neat tricks is for a boy to place himself in view of the proprietor
of a store, who, knowing the youth is after some of the goods outside,
keeps a sharp eye on him. Suddenly, the boy makes a dash for some
oranges and flies up the street, the proprietor in full chase. At the
distance of, perhaps, half a block, the boy stops, allowing himself to
be caught, when the irate shopkeeper roughly clutches him and, looking
for the oranges stolen, is considerably chopfallen to find the boy has
taken nothing. Upon being asked why he run away, the boy says he
"thought he saw his brother and ran after him to speak to him." It seems
plain enough, and the grocery man returns to find that, in his absence,
twenty boys have plenteously helped themselves to everything within
reach. It is now too late to re-catch the boy that he first ran after.
It is a piece of strategic cleverness that rarely fails to succeed; and
if any one underrates the _finesse_ of the street Arabs of New York, he
will stand a very good chance some day of being a sufferer from them.
The operations of these embryo professionals are not confined to any one
kind of theft. They are adepts in all the ways of petty thieving.
Sometimes, a drunken sailor or 'longshoreman will stagger out of a
saloon and, unsteadily navigating along, will fall, or seat himself on a
door-step and, either falling asleep or into a semi-conscious condition,
will be surrounded by a gang of these playful boys, while one, the
leader, probably, will sneak up to the unlucky man and relieve him of
all he has about him, when they will scamper off.
These boys are often taken in hand by professional burglars, who use
them to keep watch, posting one of them as a sentry, perhaps employing
another to squeeze through some small aperture and open the doors of the
place to be burglarized, for the fact of their whole lives being passed
upon the streets their education is of that character which tends to
make them quick, bright, smart and skillful in all things, and, when
added to natural gifts of intelligence, render them very dangerous as
thieves or thieves' assistants. Readers of Charles Dickens will recall,
in this connection, the use to which burglar Bill Sykes applied little
Oliver Twist.
Many of these gamins have houses under the docks. The floor is laid just
above high-water mark. It is boarded in on all sides with lumber stolen,
day by day, from adjoining yards. Here they pass their leisure time in
comparative safety and quiet, and considerable comfort, as the whole
gang contribute to furnishing up the club-rooms. Stoves, chairs, tables,
benches, and other evidences of taste, are to be found there, and an
occasional cheap picture, circus bill or flash theatrical poster
ornaments the sides of this not uncomfortable place. Here the members
play cards, dice and other games, drink beer, smoke and otherwise enjoy
themselves. These houses sometimes exist for years unknown to the
police, and many a boy, detected in the commission of some petty theft,
has run along the pier, pursued by the policeman, when, suddenly
scrambling over the pier, he has disappeared, leaving the wondering
officer to guess what had become of him.
In some portions of the town, garrets are made use of as club-rooms and
places of rendezvous, and are exceedingly well arranged. These places
are used as storehouses, too, for the safe-keeping of stolen articles of
all kinds.
An instance of the daring and ingenuity of these "wharf rats," as well
as an illustration of some of their methods, is furnished in the
following: Procuring a boat--loaned frequently with the owner's
knowledge of what it is to be used for--these boys will row, with
muffled oars, under some dock having valuable goods upon it. The only
sound that disturbs the silence of the night is the dull splash, splash
and swish of the waters against the dock or some vessel moored there.
Everything is quiet, while the night watchman slowly paces along his
narrow beat, at the one end of which are the dancing, moonlit waters and
at the other the sleeping city. A favorable chance offering, the heads
of the boys appear above the string-piece, and a bag or sack is
hurriedly lowered into the boat. Other goods follow until, sufficient
having been taken, the boat moves off as silently as it appeared.
Sometimes, a boat is rowed under the pier where barrels of whisky or
other spirits lie, and, by inserting an auger between the planks of the
dock, a hole is bored in the barrel, when the liquor which escapes is
guided into a barrel. In this way many goods are stolen right under the
noses, apparently, of the watchmen and guardians.
Sometimes these wharf rats are captured in the act, when fierce fights
ensue. They know there is no escaping punishment, and they fight
desperately. Having no homes or parents there is no escape for them,
for, even if not convicted of the theft, they must go to the House of
Refuge.
After all, but little blame can be attached to these unfortunate boys
and girls, for they are just precisely what their associations have made
them. They learn to swear, smoke, chew, steal, before they can walk, and
grow up to be what they are. The House of Refuge only serves to confirm
them in their viciousness and evil propensities by herding them with
other criminals; so that, by the time they are released they are ready
and willing to take greater chances in securing larger results, when the
end invariably is the State prison--probably for life.