THE ANGELS OF THE TOMBS
To a score at least of ladies of every nationality, creed and culture
was the term Tombs Angel given the past seventy years. But out of this
number only two ladies by their good deeds had obtained a distinct and
permanent claim to the title. These were Mrs. Ernestine Schaffner and
Mrs. John A. Foster. The first of these ladies was a native of
Hesse-Cassel, Germany. She began her labors in the city prison more than
thirty years ago, and became noted for her generous and valorous deeds.
Being a widow and in good circumstances, she was able to contribute time
and money to aid the unfortunate, so that her services were in great
demand. As she was the owner of some real estate in this county, she was
able to furnish bonds to hundreds of prisoners, many of whom after they
had secured their liberty skipped the country.
To facilitate matters in her chosen work, Mrs. Schaffner opened a law
office on Centre street, where friends and relatives of prisoners could
call and consult her on all legal matters, without money or price. On
many occasions, the late Recorder Smyth, for the sake of protecting her
from lying crooks, refused to take her on a bail bond. Although her work
was entirely of a humanitarian character, she helped all persons without
regard to creed, race or nationality. It might be interesting to know
that the first case that attracted Mrs. Schaffner’s attention to prison
work was the attempted suicide in the East River of a young German.
After he was fished out of the water, he was committed to the Tombs
Prison, where Mrs. Schaffner sought him out, took a deep interest in his
case, greatly encouraged him, went on his bail bond, furnished him with
a lawyer, and finaly secured his discharge. Mrs. Schaffner was a very
charitable lady, and did many acts of kindness from time to time, for
the inmates of the Tombs.
About ten years ago I had the pleasure of meeting her, and talking over
her early labors in the City Prison. She seemed to be a very interesting
woman, and intelligent. If she had written a book on her experiences
with crooks and how they had disappointed and deceived her after she had
expended on them $50,000, she would have chronicled lies big enough to
make your hair stand. It is said she died in poor circumstances, about
six years ago.
The second Tombs “Angel” was Mrs. Rebecca Salome Foster, the widow of
Gen. John A. Foster, a veteran of the Civil War. She began her
philanthropic work as a “Prison Angel” about the year 1886-7. She was a
woman of much ability and considerable force of character. She was quick
in her movements, generous to a fault, and ready to help everyone in
time of need, regardless of creed, color or race, and, of course, was
often greatly imposed upon by people who used her for selfish purposes.
As her husband was a well known lawyer in his day, and had been a
general in the Civil War, this fact gave Mrs. Foster at the start a
great amount of influence with judges and magistrates, which would have
taken others of lesser note many years to acquire.
At first she confined her labors to the Police Courts and District
Prisons, where she gave help to women and girls who had been locked up
for petty offences. But for the last ten years of her life she confined
her labors to the Tombs Prison almost exclusively.
It is interesting to know how Mrs. Foster began what proved to be her
life work as an angel of mercy among prisoners. As I received it
directly from her own lips, I feel sure that I have the true account of
what is generally believed to be the beginning of a most useful life.
The whole thing seems to be providential, and clearly shows how the
channels of a life may be changed for good by an insignificant event.
When General Foster was yet alive, Mrs. Foster was called upon to go
hurriedly to a police court to intercede on behalf of a boy twelve years
of age, the son of a washer woman, who worked occasionally around the
Foster home. The boy had been arrested for a petty offence, and General
Foster had agreed to defend him in the Police Court, as he was innocent
of any crime, but on the day when his case was to be called, the General
was too ill to leave his room. He accordingly sent Mrs. Foster with a
note to Magistrate Hogan, who was then sitting at Jefferson Market
Police Court, asking for an adjournment of the case. When Mrs. Foster
reached the court, the case was then on, and when the opportunity came
she made such a powerful plea that the Magistrate discharged the boy. He
then thanked Mrs. Foster for the interest she took in the case, and as
she was about to leave, the Court called her attention to the case of a
young, homeless girl, who had been arrested that day for soliciting on
the street. The Magistrate asked Mrs. Foster to investigate the girl’s
story before he took final action, as he did not wish to send her to the
Island, where she would be ruined by association with the depraved
inmates of the work house. Mrs. Foster made the investigation, had her
paroled in her own custody, and then sent her home to another part of
the country. By these acts of kindness, the girl was saved.
One of the most celebrated cases of the day, that brought Mrs. Foster’s
name prominently before the public, was the trial and conviction of
Maria Barberi, for the murder of Dominico Catalonia, in July, 1895. Miss
Barberi was a woman of considerable intelligence. She had been greatly
wronged by her lover, who refused to marry her. While suffering mental
agony brought on by remorse of conscience, when she saw herself ruined
and disgraced as she then was, she killed Catalonia.
While she lay in the Tombs Prison, Mrs. Foster took a deep interest in
the case of this Italian woman, and aided her in every way possible.
During her trial in the Criminal Court Building, she stood by her side
as her best friend. The jury found her guilty. On the day she was
sentenced to the electric chair, she swooned when brought to the bar. As
she lay in the arms of Mrs. Foster, the Recorder passed sentence of
death on her. The same day she was taken to the State Prison. Being in a
state of nervous collapse, Mrs. Foster accompanied her to Sing Sing, and
was locked in the same cell with her from 5:30 p. m. until 8:00 next
morning. That was a sad and dreary night to Mrs. Foster, and seemed long
enough to be a year! In that cell Maria Barberi, utterly exhausted,
slept and moaned alternately all night, oblivious of her dismal
surroundings. During the entire period Mrs. Foster ministered to her
needs. There was a solemn stillness everywhere in that sepulchre of the
living during those fifteen hours. And the only sounds that could be
heard were the tramp, tramp, tramp of the keepers and guards as they
patrolled the yards and corridors of the great prison.
In the morning, Miss Barberi was so far recovered that she could be left
alone, and Mrs. Foster returned to New York.
After that night, prison life was no longer a theory to the Tombs Angel,
but a stern reality.
Mrs. Foster could enter into the fullest sympathy with such people, and
give them encouragement. The following year, the Court of Appeals
granted Miss Barberi a new trial, and she was in the end acquitted, and
is said to be living in this city at present.
Mrs. Foster was killed at the Park Avenue Hotel fire, in March, 1901,
and her untimely death has been deeply regretted.
Prison Angels are born—not made. Many persons have tried to be an “Angel
to the Prisoners,” but have failed, as no amount of training can make
one.
Mrs. Foster during her long and useful life, was a very charitable lady,
and in course of a year gave away much money, clothing, shoes and
railroad tickets and meals, to hundreds of men and women as they came
out of prison. That she had been deceived scores of times by worthless
“fakirs” cannot be denied, yet she continued in this thankless work down
till her untimely death. In early life, she had the means to give away,
and she gave it with a lavish hand. But much of the money, clothing and
railroad tickets which she so generously gave to “panhandlers” and
crooks just out of prison was worse than wasted, as a great deal of it
went for drink, and before long all those “bums” which she had helped
were back in the Tombs again. I can recall at the present moment a
person of this character, receiving money from Mrs. Foster on a Sunday
afternoon to go, as he said, to his home in Connecticut, where he said
his friends would give him employment. She was careful when she gave him
the railroad fare to hand him a postal card, requesting him to write a
few lines when he arrived at his destination. For weeks afterwards,
whenever I met her, I asked her if she had heard from the fellow whose
fare she had paid to Connecticut. But she always replied in the
negative. That worthless fellow was a sample of hundreds of others who
had been befriended, but who used the money for drink. My own impression
was that he never left the city. When I afterwards came to place him, I
found that his name was Murray. I then remembered that he was a chronic
“dead beat,” and always took a special delight in swindling
tender-hearted humanitarians.
One of the last cases that Mrs. Foster took an interest in before her
death was that of Florence Burns, who was charged with the murder of a
young man named Brooks. The examination took place in the Court of
Special Sessions, before Justice Meyers, who acted the part of a sitting
magistrate. The District Attorney was represented by one of his
assistants, and ex-District Attorney Backus, of Brooklyn, represented
the defendant. Justice Meyers, who is the personification of fairness in
his rulings, satisfied both sides. During the hearing, which lasted
several days, Mrs. Foster stood by the young woman as her best friend,
when all others had apparently forsaken her. But this is just the kind
of work Mrs. Foster had been doing—of the most unselfish and loving
character to prison unfortunates for nearly twenty years. A year or two
before her death, a couple of lying officials of the Tombs told her an
untruthful story about one of the missionaries. As soon as she learned
how these officials had deceived her, she shunned them forever
afterwards.
As is well known, some of the habitues of “Bummers’” Hall become very
religious after their own way, and are ready to believe in any or all
the creeds of Christendom, provided they can make a few dollars out of
the credulous.
I have found that when these fellows try to sell you a “gold brick” or
borrow money from you, the best thing to do is to “drop them.” Nearly
all of them possess unlimited cheek, more especially as borrowers and
beggars. After they have duped you, they chuckle over their smartness.
A Tombs keeper asked one of these chronic “panhandlers” why he did not
buy his own tobacco. He replied: “What’s the use, when you have so many
‘suckers’ around here?” A maiden lady, the daughter of a city clergyman,
was in the habit of doing missionary work in the prison.
In those days, there was a tall, slick gentleman, who had a remarkable
oily tongue. He occupied a cell in the old prison, immediately behind
the desk. This crook was able to ingratiate himself into the affections
of this young lady, so that he was able to secure from her no less than
seventy to one hundred dollars, together with a good deal of warm
clothing, and two or three meals prepared at her own home weekly. With
the money received, he had one of Begg’s men fetch a pint of “booze”
daily. When it was discovered he was immediately shipped to the “Annex,”
and all his privileges cut off. Soon after this he was sent to Sing
Sing, where he served about five full years.
It is the commonest thing in the world for a crook to ask the assistance
of a lady missionary to get him out of prison, and present a “gold
brick” story that is nothing but deception and fabrication from first to
last. After hearing hundreds of these stories made out of “whole cloth,”
I have come to the conclusion that criminals, with rare exceptions, are
born liars, and they seldom tell the truth, although it would do them
far more good in the end. I have found by careful observation that
anyone who has started in to cover up his guilt with lies is in a
hopeless state of depravity, and remains beyond the reach of even the
Gospel. But it is not alone missionaries and Tombs Angels that are
deceived by such characters, but all who give credence to what they say.
Crooks as a rule read the missionary’s character, and soon find out who
are the “easy marks” in the prison. As soon as they find a
person—usually a woman who is sympathetic—they pour into her ear a tale
of woe in which the crook presents a real case of injured innocence and
persecution.
Oftentimes people living at a distance write to the authorities asking
that something be done to save heinous offenders who are not entitled to
any sympathy whatever. And many times young ladies of good breeding and
respectability come to the Tombs and ask to see old crooks whose
pictures they had perhaps seen in the morning papers.
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