Lights and Shadows of New York Life

J >> James D. McCabe >> Lights and Shadows of New York Life

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[Picture: FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL.]

At the end of the hall upon which the dining-room opens, are the parlors
of the house. These are among the most magnificent rooms in the country.
They are furnished with great taste and elegance, and their windows look
out immediately upon Madison Square. There are also several private
parlors adjoining the public rooms. Along the Twenty-third and
Twenty-fourth street sides of the house are corridors, not quite so wide,
but longer than the main corridor, and leading off from it. The three
constitute one of the pleasantest promenades to be found. The floors are
covered with the richest carpets, into which the feet sink noiselessly.
In the day a half twilight prevails, and at night a rich flood of
gaslight streams along their entire length.

The upper floors are occupied with private parlors, rooms for guests,
etc. There are in this hotel pleasant quarters for 800 persons, and a
greater number can be accommodated in case of necessity. There are 100
suites of rooms, besides the ordinary chambers. Each suite comprises a
parlor, chamber, dressing-room, bath-room and water-closet. The number
of permanent boarders is about 300. The transient arrivals average about
300 per day, sometimes amounting to about twice that number. The house
is expensive, but its accommodations are unsurpassed, and if one can "get
his money back" anywhere in the city he can at this hotel.

The house is mainly patronized by people from other parts of the State,
from New England, and from the West. It is the most fashionable
establishment in the city, and will doubtless hold its present rank as
long as its energetic proprietors retain the control of it.

Towards eight o'clock in the evening, the hotel presents its most
attractive features. It is full to overflowing. The lower halls, the
reading and sitting-rooms are filled with well-dressed men, guests and
citizens, who have sauntered here from all parts of the city.
Four-fifths are smoking, and the air is hazy with the "vapor of the
weed." The hum of conversation is incessant, but the general tone is
well-bred and courteous. In the farther end of the great hall a group of
stock brokers may be seen comparing notes, and making bargains for the
sale and purchase of their fickle wares. The clink of glasses makes
music in the bar-room, and beyond this you may see the barbers at work on
their customers in the luxurious shaving saloon. Doors are opening and
shutting continually, people are coming and going. Porters are pushing
their way through the crowd bearing huge trunks on their shoulders. The
office bell is sounding incessantly, from a dozen different chambers at
once, and the servants are moving about in every direction to execute the
orders of the guests.

On the floor above the scene is as animated, but of a different
character. Every one here is in full dinner dress, and all are on their
good behaviour. The grand dining-room is crowded with guests, who are
doing ample justice to the sumptuous viands set before them. The parlors
are thronged with ladies and gentlemen, and the corridors are filled with
promenaders. The toilettes of the ladies are magnificent, and they can
be seen here to better advantage than at any ball or evening party. You
may see here some of the loveliest and most refined women, and some of
the coarsest and vulgarest, some of the most courtly gentlemen, and some
of the most insufferable snobs. If you will join the quiet-looking man
moving through the throng as if seeking some one whom he cannot find, he
can give you many an interesting bit of gossip about the various persons
whom you will encounter in your walk. He is the detective of the house,
and is on the watch for improper characters. Well-dressed thieves will
make their way into hotels in spite of the precautions of the
proprietors. Here a guest is comparatively safe. The detective is
argus-eyed, and knows everybody. Let a pick-pocket or thief but show his
face in this place, and his arrest is sure. All night the corridors are
patrolled by watchmen to make sure of the safety of the sleeping guests.
The house is absolutely fire-proof.

The cost of conducting such an establishment is immense, but the profits
are in proportion. The average profit of this house is said to be about
a quarter of a million of dollars per annum.

The hotels that have been mentioned are all conducted on the American
plan of full board, or one charge for every expense. This enables a
guest to calculate his expenses exactly, and has many other advantages.

Many of the most fashionable houses are conducted on what is called "the
European plan," in which a separate charge is made for room, meals, and
every service rendered. It is said that this is more economical than the
other plan, and that it is less profitable to the proprietors. It is
adopted by the Hoffman, St. Denis, Glenham, Brevoort, Coleman, St. James,
Albemarle, Clarendon, Everett, Grand, Gilsey, and several other prominent
houses.

The leading hotels of the city lie very close together, the majority of
them being in the vicinity of Union and Madison Squares. This is found
to be an advantage, as strangers find it pleasant to visit friends who
are staying at other houses. The business of hotel keeping in New York
is generally very profitable. A large outlay is required at the opening
of the house, for furniture, etc., as much as from $200,000 to $500,000
being expended on the fitting up of a first-class house. The furniture,
plate, etc., of the Fifth Avenue and Grand Central Hotels are valued at
the latter sum for each establishment. If the house meet with success, a
moderate sum will suffice to supply its current wants. The business is
all cash, and large amounts of money are received daily. The annual
profits of the Fifth Avenue Hotel are said to be about $250,000; those of
the St. Nicholas about $200,000. Other leading houses, when well
managed, are said to clear about twenty per cent. on the sum invested.
Large fortunes have been made by not a few keepers of hotels in New York.

The large hotels depend entirely upon transient guests for their success.
The city has, perhaps, the largest floating population in America.
Thousands come and go daily, even in the summer months, and these are
mostly persons who have money to spend. Bridal parties are constantly
arriving, and these are not inclined to be the most economical in their
expenditures. In the spring and fall, the Southern and Western merchants
come to New York in great numbers to buy goods, and are among the best
customers of the hotels. Thousands, on business, and for pleasure, come
and go daily, and they all pour a constant stream of money into the
coffers of the hotels.

The smaller houses, while they compete with their great rivals for
transient custom, rely chiefly upon their permanent guests. These are
filled with families who have come to them to avoid the trouble of
keeping house, and who remain all through the fall, winter, and spring.
In the summer they go to the watering places, so that they pass their
whole lives in hotels. They are mostly persons of wealth and fashion.
As may be supposed, the atmosphere of a hotel is not very favorable to
domestic privacy, and such establishments are vast manufactories of
scandal. People imagine that they are living privately, but their every
action is subject to the inspection and comment of the other inmates of
the house. The hotels are not the safest places for the growth of the
domestic virtues. Indeed, it may be said that they furnish the best
means of destroying them entirely. Neither are they the best place for
the training of children. This last, however, may be a minor
consideration, for the wives who live at the hotels seem, as a rule, to
take care that there shall be no children to need training. Small
families are a necessity at such places, and they remain small in that
atmosphere. If another Asmodeus could look down into the hotels of New
York, he would have some startling revelations to make, which would no
doubt go far to corroborate the gossip one hears in the city concerning
them.

The proprietors of the city hotels are very active in their efforts to
exclude improper characters from their houses, but with all their
vigilance do not always succeed in doing so. One is never certain as to
the respectability of his neighbor at the table, and it is well to be
over-cautious in forming acquaintanceships at such places. Impure women
of the "higher," that is the more successful class, and gamblers, abound
at the hotels. The proprietor cannot turn them out unless they are
notorious, until they commit some overt act, for fear of getting himself
into trouble. As soon, however, as his attention is called to any
improper conduct on their part, they are turned into the street, no
matter at what hour of the day or night.

Hotel proprietors are also the victims of adventurers of both sexes.
These people live from house to house, often changing their names as fast
as they change their quarters, and they are more numerous than is
generally believed. One man who made himself known to the police in this
way, used to take his family, consisting of a wife and three children, to
the hotels, and engage the best rooms. When his bill was presented, he
affected to be extremely busy, and promised to attend to it the next day.
By the next day, however, he had disappeared with his family. His trunk,
which had been left behind, was found to contain nothing but bricks and
rags, or paper.

Another adventurer would put up at the most fashionable hotels, and when
requested to pay his bills would feign madness. He would rave, and sing,
and dance, call himself Nebuchadnezzar, or George Washington, or some
such personage, and completely baffle the detectives, who were for a long
time inclined to believe him a _bona fide_ madman. In this way he ran up
a bill of one hundred and seventy-one dollars at the Fifth Avenue Hotel,
which he never paid.

Others do not seek to obtain lodgings at the hotels, but confine their
efforts to securing meals without paying for them. They get into the
dining-rooms along with the crowd at the meal hour, and once in and
seated at the table are generally safe. Some two years ago as many as
thirty-four of this class were detected at the Fifth Avenue Hotel in a
single month. These men as they leave the dining-room generally manage
to secure a better hat than that they deposited on the stand in entering.
Under the regime of the Lelands, the Metropolitan Hotel had a colored man
stationed at the door of its dining-room, who proved more than a match
for the most expert thief.

All first class hotels keep private detectives and watchmen on duty at
all hours. The business of these men is to keep guard over the upper
part of the house, to prevent thieves from entering and robbing the rooms
of the guests. Suspicious persons are at once apprehended, and required
to give an account of themselves. Some queer mishaps often befall guests
of the house who are not known to the detectives.

Bold robberies are often effected at the hotels of the city. Some time
ago a thief was captured at the St. Nicholas, and upon being searched a
gold watch and chain, and five different parcels of money were found upon
him, all of which were identified by guests as their property.

XVIII. IMPOSTORS.

There is no city in the Union in which impostors of all kinds flourish so
well as in New York. The immense size of the city, the heterogeneous
character of its population, and the great variety of the interests and
pursuits of the people, are all so many advantages to the cheat and
swindler. It would require a volume to detail the tricks of these
people, and some of their adventures would equal anything to be found in
the annals of romance. All manner of tricks are practised upon the
unsuspecting, and generally the perpetrator escapes without punishment.
They come here from all parts of the country, and indeed from all parts
of the world, in the hope of reaping a rich harvest, and the majority end
by eking out a miserable existence in a manner which even the police who
watch them so closely are sometimes unable to understand.

They find their way into all classes. One cannot mingle much in society
here without meeting some bewhiskered, mysterious individual, who claims
to be of noble birth. Sometimes he palms himself off as a political
exile, sometimes he is travelling, and is so charmed with New York that
he makes it his headquarters, and sometimes he lets a few friends into
the secret of his rank, and begs that they will not reveal his true
title, as a little unpleasant affair, a mere social scandal in his own
country, made it necessary for him to absent himself for a while. He
hopes the matter will blow over in a few months, and then he will go
home. The fashionable New-Yorker, male or female, is powerless against
the charms of aristocracy. The "foreign nobleman" is welcomed
everywhere, feted, petted, and allowed almost any privilege he chooses to
claim--and he is far from being very modest in this respect; and by and
by he is found out to be an impostor, probably the valet of some
gentleman of rank in Europe. Then society holds up its hands in holy
horror, and vows it always did suspect him. The men in society are weak
enough in this respect; but the women are most frequently the victims.

Not long since, a handsome, well got up Englishman came to New York on a
brief visit. He called himself Lord Richard X---. Society received him
with open arms. Invitations were showered upon him. Brown's hands were
always full of cards for his Lordship. The women went wild over him,
especially since it was whispered that the young man was heir to a
property worth ever so many millions of pounds. In short, his Lordship
found himself so popular, and hints of his departure were received with
such disfavor by his new found friends, that he concluded to extend his
stay in New York indefinitely. He made a fine show, and his toilettes,
turnouts, and presents were magnificent. The men did not fancy him. He
was too haughty and uncivil, but the ladies found him intensely
agreeable. It was whispered by his male acquaintances that he was a good
hand at borrowing, and that he was remarkably lucky at cards and at the
races. One or two of the large faro banks of the city were certainly the
losers by his visits. The ladies, however, were indignant at such
stories. His Lordship was divine. All the women were crazy after him,
and any of them would have taken him at the first offer.

By and by the newspapers began to take notice of the young man, and
boldly asserted that there was no such name as Lord Richard X--- in the
British peerage. Society laughed at this, and declared that everybody
but ignorant newspaper men was aware that the published lists of titled
personages in England were notoriously incomplete.

Meanwhile, his Lordship played his cards well, and it was soon announced
that he was "to be married shortly to a well-known belle of Fifth
avenue." The women were green with jealousy, and the men, I think, were
not a little relieved to find that the lion did not intend devouring all
the Fifth avenue belles. The marriage came off in due season; the
wedding-presents fairly poured in, and were magnificent. The new Lady
X--- was at the summit of her felicity, and was the envied of all who
knew her. The happy pair departed on their honeymoon, but his Lordship
made no effort to return home to England.

During their absence, it leaked out that Lord X--- was an impostor.
Creditors began to pour in upon his father-in-law with anxious inquiries
after his Lordship, against whom they held heavy accounts. Proofs of the
imposture were numerous and indisputable, and the newspapers declared
that Lord X--- would not dare to show his face again in New York.
Everybody was laughing at the result of the affair.

What passed between the father-in-law and the young couple is not known;
but the bride decided to cling to her husband in spite of the imposture.
Father-in-law was a prudent and a sensitive man, and very rich. For his
daughter's sake, he accepted the situation. He paid Lord X---'s debts,
laughed at the charge of imposture, and spoke warmly to every one he met
of the great happiness of his "dear children, Lord and Lady X---." On
their return to the city, he received them with a grand party, at which
all Fifth avenue was present, and, though he could not silence the
comments of society, he succeeded in retaining for his children their
places in the world of fashion. He was a nabob, and he knew the power of
his wealth. He shook his purse in the face of society, and commanded it
to continue to recognize the impostor as Lord X---, and society meekly
obeyed him.

Impostures of this kind do not always terminate so fortunately for the
parties concerned. New York gossip has many a well-authenticated story
of foreign counts and lords, who have set society in a flutter, and have
married some foolish, trusting woman, only to be detected when it was too
late to prevent the trouble. Some of these scoundrels have been proved
to be married men already, and the consequences of their falsehood have,
of course, been more serious to the bride. Others again do not enter the
matrimonial market at all, but use their arts to secure loans from their
new acquaintances. Not long since a foreigner, calling himself a Russian
Count, and claiming to be sent here on a mission connected with the
Russian navy, succeeded in borrowing from some credulous acquaintances,
who were dazzled by his pretended rank, sums ranging from $500 to $2000,
and amounting in the aggregate to $30,000. When the time of payment
arrived, the Count had disappeared, and it was ascertained that he had
escaped to Europe.

Impostors of other kinds are numerous. Men and women are always to be
found in the city, seeking aid for some charitable institution, with
which they claim to be connected. They carry memorandum books and
pencils, in the former of which the donor is requested to inscribe his
name and the amount of his gift, in order that it may be acknowledged in
due form by the proper officers of the institution. Small favors are
thankfully received, and they depart, assuring you in the most humble and
sanctimonious manner that "the Lord loveth a cheerful giver." If you
cannot give to-day, they are willing to call to-morrow--next week--any
time that may suit your convenience. You cannot insult them by a sharp
refusal, or in any way, for like Uriah Heep they are always "so 'umble."
You find it hard to suspect them, but, in truth, they are the most
genuine impostors to be met with in the city. They are soliciting money
for themselves alone, and have no connection with any charitable
institution whatever.

One-armed, or one-legged beggars, whose missing member, sound as your
own, is strapped to their bodies so as to be safely out of sight, women
wishing to bury their husbands or children, women with hired babies, and
sundry other objects calculated to excite your pity, meet you at every
step. They are vagabonds. God knows there is misery enough in this
great city, but how to tell it from barefaced imposture, is perplexing
and harassing to a charitably disposed person. Nine out of ten street
beggars in New York are unworthy objects, and to give to them is simply
to encourage vagrancy; and yet to know how to discriminate. That would
be valuable knowledge to many people in the great city.

In the fall of 1870, a middle aged woman committed suicide in New York.
For some months she had pursued a singular career in the great city, and
had literally lived by her wits. While her main object was to live
comfortably at other people's expense, she also devoted herself to an
attempt to acquire property without paying for it. She arrived in New
York in the spring of 1868, and took lodgings at an up-town hotel. She
brought no baggage, but assured the clerk that her trunks had been
unjustly detained by a boarding house keeper in Boston with whom she had
had a difficulty. She succeeded in winning the confidence of the clerk,
and told him that she had just come into possession of a fortune of one
million dollars, left her by a rich relative, and that she had come to
New York to purchase a home. She completely deceived the clerk, who
vouched for her respectability and responsibility, and thus satisfied the
proprietor of the hotel. She made the acquaintance of nearly all the
resident guests of the house, and so won their sympathy and confidence
that she was able to borrow from them considerable sums of money. In
this way she lived from house to house, making payments on account only
when obliged to do so, and when she could no longer remain at the hotels,
she took up her quarters at a private boarding house, passing thence to
another, and so on. She spent two years in this way, borrowing money
continually, and paying very little for her board.

In pursuance of her plan to acquire real estate without paying for it,
she made her appearance in the market as a purchaser. In the summer of
1870, she obtained permits of one of the leading real estate agents of
the city to examine property in his hands for sale, and finally selected
a house on Madison avenue. The price asked was $100,000, but she coolly
declared her readiness to pay the full amount in cash as soon as the
necessary deeds could be prepared. The real estate dealer was completely
deceived by her seeming frankness, and assured her that he would give his
personal attention to the details of the transaction, so that her
interests would not suffer, and a day was agreed upon for the completion
of the purchase.

The woman then assumed a confidential tone, and told the gentleman of her
immense fortune. She was absolutely alone in the city, she said, without
relatives or friends to whom she could apply for advice in the management
of her property, and she urged him to become her trustee and manage the
estate for her, offering him a liberal compensation for his services.
Her object was to make him her trustee, induce him to act for her in the
purchase of the house, and involve him so far as to secure the success of
her scheme for getting possession of the property. The dealer, however,
thanked her for her preference, but assured her that it was impossible
for him to accept her proposition, as he had made it a rule never to act
as trustee for any one. He did not in the least suspect her real design,
and but for this previous and fixed determination would have acceded to
her request. Finding that she could not shake his resolution, the lady
took her departure, promising to return on the day appointed for the
payment of the purchase money.

At the time designated, the deeds were ready, and the real estate agent
and the owner of the Madison avenue mansion awaited the coming of the
lady; but she did not appear, and, after a lapse of several days, the two
gentlemen concluded they had been victimized, and then the true character
of the trusteeship he had been asked to assume broke upon the real estate
agent. The audacity and skill of the scheme fairly staggered him.

After the failure of this scheme, the woman tried several others of a
similar character, with the same success. In October, 1870, a city
newspaper, having obtained information respecting her transactions from
some of her victims, published an account of her career. The next day
she committed suicide, and was found dead in her bed.

Not long since a city lawyer, whom we shall call Smith, and who is much
given to the procuring of patent divorces for dissatisfied husbands and
wives, was visited by a richly dressed lady, who informed him that she
was Mrs. P---, the wife of Mr. P---, of Fifth avenue, and that she wished
to retain his services in procuring a divorce from her husband, on the
ground of ill treatment. Mr. P--- was personally a stranger to the
lawyer, who knew him, however, as a man of great wealth. Visions of a
heavy fee flashed before him, and he encouraged the lady to make a full
statement of her grievances, promising to do his best to secure the
desired divorce in the shortest possible time. He made full notes of her
statement, and assured her that he felt confident that he would be able
to obtain not only the divorce, but a very large sum as alimony. In
reply to her question as to his charge for his services, he replied:

"Well, I ought to charge you $1000, but out of consideration for your
sufferings, I will only take a retainer of $100, and when we have gained
our suit, you will pay me $500 additional."

"That is very reasonable," said the lady, "and I accept the terms.
Unfortunately, I have nothing with me but a check for $200, given me by
my husband this morning to use in shopping. I shall only need half of
it, and if you could get it cashed for me--but, no matter, I'll call
to-morrow, and make the payment."