Lights and Shadows of New York Life

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

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[Picture: THE HIGH BRIDGE.]

There are two large reservoirs at the city end of the bridge, the
"Storage Reservoir," and the "High Service," the latter of which is
designed for supplying the elevated section of Washington Heights. From
here to the distributing reservoirs in the Central Park, which have
already been described, the distance is two and a quarter miles. The
distributing reservoir for the principal part of the city is on Fifth
Avenue, between Fortieth and Forty-second streets. It covers about four
acres of ground, and is built of granite. It is forty feet above the
street, is divided into two parts, and will hold 20,000,000 gallons of
water. It is exactly forty-one miles from the Croton Lake.

[Picture: THE FIFTH AVENUE RESERVOIR.]

The daily flow of water through the aqueduct is 60,000,000 gallons, its
full capacity. The reservoirs hold over 2,000,000,000 gallons, or about
fifteen days, supply. Nearly four hundred miles of main pipes distribute
the water through the city, and supply it to 67,000 dwelling houses and
stores, 1624 manufactories, 290 hospitals, prisons, schools, and public
buildings, 307 churches, and 14 markets. There are 72 drinking hydrants,
and a number of ornamental fountains in the city. The lakes and
fountains in the Central Park are all formed by the Croton water, which
is also supplied to the State Prison at Sing Sing, and the Institutions
on Blackwell's, Randall's, and Ward's islands. The Croton River is one
of the purest streams in the world. The water is bright and sparkling,
and there is no sediment perceptible to the naked eye. Actual analysis
has shown that the amount of impurity during an entire summer was but
4.45 grains in a gallon, or 7.63 parts in 100,000 parts.

The original cost of the aqueduct and reservoirs was about $9,000,000.
Since then the increased supply, the new reservoirs, pipes, etc., have
made the total amount upward of $40,000,000. The total receipts from the
water tax since the opening of the aqueduct have amounted to about
$22,000,000. The tax at present amounts to about $1,232,000 annually.

LXXIV. EXCURSIONS.

The suburbs of New York are very attractive, and excursions to nearly
every point within reach of the city are made every day during the summer
months. The fares are low, and a day may be pleasantly spent on the
water by leaving the city about 8 o'clock in the morning and returning at
6 or 7 P.M.

One of the pleasantest excursions of this kind, is up the Hudson. One
may go as far as West Point or Poughkeepsie, and enjoy the magnificent
scenery of the famous river, or he may leave the boat at West Point, and
spend an hour or two at that place before the arrival of the down boat.
The steamers on the Hudson are the best of their kind, and afford every
opportunity for enjoyment.

Staten Island, in New York Bay, seven miles from the city, and in full
sight of it, offers many attractions to the pleasure seeker. There are
several lines of steamers plying between the city and the towns on that
island, and making hourly trips. The sail across the bay is delightful,
and the fare is only ten or twelve cents each way.

Another trip, and one which should never be omitted by strangers visiting
the city, is from Peck Slip up the East River to
One-hundred-and-thirtieth street, or Harlem. The route lies along the
entire East River front of the city, with Brooklyn, Williamsburg, and
Long Island City on the opposite shores. Blackwell's, Randall's, and
Ward's islands, with their magnificent edifices, are passed, and Hell
Gate is an additional attraction. One is given a better idea of the size
of New York and Brooklyn in this way, than in almost any other. Not the
least of the attractions is the United States Navy Yard, at Brooklyn, an
admirable view of which may be obtained from the deck of the steamer in
passing it. The boats run hourly from Peck Slip and Harlem. The fare is
ten cents each way. In the summer time there is a line of steamers
plying between Harlem and the High Bridge, and connecting with the Peck
Slip boats.

[Picture: U.S. NAVY YARD, BROOKLYN.]

The towns on Long Island Sound are also connected with New York by lines
of steamers. These are among the pleasant objective points for
excursionists within reach of the city.

The old route to Philadelphia, by way of South Amboy, offers another
attraction. The boat is a fine and powerful steamer, and makes two trips
daily between New York and South Amboy. Sometimes the route lies through
the picturesque Kill Van Kull, or Staten Island Sound, or through the
Narrows, into the Outer Bay, and around Staten Island into Raritan Bay.

[Picture: WEST POINT.]

The famous resorts of Rockaway and Coney Island are reached in from one
to two hours by steamer. At either of these places a day may be spent on
the sea shore. The surf-bathing is excellent at both, and each may also
be reached by a railway. Of late years, Coney Island has become a
favorite resort of the roughs of New York and Brooklyn, and, as a
consequence, is not as attractive to respectable visitors as formerly.

Perhaps the pleasantest of all the excursions, except the trip up the
Hudson, is the sail from the city to Sandy Hook and back on the Long
Branch boats. These are magnificent steamers, and make several trips
each day during the summer season. They connect at Sandy Hook with the
railway to Long Branch. One may leave the city in the morning, spend the
day at the Branch, enjoy a bath in the surf, and reach the New York pier
again by 8 o'clock in the evening. The round trip fare is about two
dollars. The boats are provided with every luxury, and are famous for
their excellent table. A good band accompanies each, and discourses
delicious music during the sail. The route lies down the harbor through
the Narrows, and down the Lower Bay to Sandy Hook, in full sight of the
Atlantic, and near enough to it to feel the deep swelling of its restless
breast. Those who do not care to visit Long Branch may make the round
trip in four hours.

LXXV. SAILORS IN NEW YORK.

In the streets in the vicinity of the water, there are many buildings
used as "Sailors' Boarding-houses." One would suppose that poor Jack
needed a snug resting-place after his long and stormy voyages, but it is
about the last thing he finds in New York. The houses for his
accommodation are low, vile places. They are located in the filthiest
sections of the city, and are never clean. Jack, however, is used to
hard fare. He has spent six months, or it may be two years, in the damp
and cheerless forecastle, and he will not grumble at the aspect of the
only quarters available to him on shore. He has crowded with twenty men
and boys into a space much smaller than the chamber assigned him, and he
does not object to having half a dozen room mates. The bed is a wretched
cot, but it is better than a bunk or a hammock, and Jack is not so used
to cleanliness as to make him very fastidious.

The boarding-house has a flashy air. There are bright curtains at the
windows, and the entire front is usually painted some gaudy color, and is
adorned with a sign, with the name of the establishment in gilt letters.
"The Sailor's Retreat," "Our House," "The Sailor's Welcome Home," "The
Jolly Tar," and "The Flowing Sea Inn" are favorite names with these
places. The entrance is generally low and narrow, and conducts the
visitor to the main room, which is often the bar, of the house. This is
a small, low-pitched apartment. The floor is sanded, and the ceiling is
lined with tissue paper pendants cut in various designs. The mantelpiece
is adorned with various seamen's trophies and curiosities from foreign
lands, the majority of which have been stolen from the poor fellows, who
brought them home for a different purpose. The bar is adorned with a
multitude of bottles, decanters, and glasses, and the liquors give no
indication to the eye of their deadly properties. A person accustomed to
cross the ocean in the luxurious cabin of a Cunarder, would not find the
place very attractive, but to Jack, who has never known anything better
than the forecastle, it has many attractions, and he falls an easy victim
to it.

The landlords of these places are simply the meanest of thieves and
bullies. They charge a uniform price of about seven dollars per week,
for which they give a mean bed in a dirty room occupied by five or six
other persons, and three indifferent meals a day. They do not, however,
reap their profits from their legitimate business. Their principal
earnings are gained by their crimes.

They keep their runners in the harbor on the watch for ships coming in
from long voyages. These board the vessels as soon as they reach the
bay, and at once begin to extol the merits of their several
establishments. They are adepts at their art, and before the vessel has
cast anchor at her berth, they have secured one or more men apiece for
their houses. They never leave them after this, but "stick to them"
until they receive their wages, after which they conduct them to the
boarding-house, and turn them over to the landlord. If the sailor is
unwilling to promise to become a guest at the boarding-house, the runner
has but little trouble in inducing him to "drop in and look at it." The
great object is to get him within its doors. The first sense of freedom
from the confinements of the ship is very grateful to Jack, and puts him
in a good humor with himself and everybody else. This renders him the
easier a victim.

When he has been brought within the portals of the boarding-house, the
next step is to induce him to drink. Sailors are very tough, but even
they cannot stand up against the effects of the poisonous liquors sold
here. If the landlord is not able to induce the new-comer to drink, the
"Jackal," or the porter, is called in. Jack never suspects the porter of
any design upon him, but believes that the landlord is his only enemy,
and the "Jackal" is usually successful. If it is found necessary to make
quick work of the case, the liquor is drugged; but, as a general rule, it
is poisonous enough to stupefy even a strong man in a very short while.
When the victim is fairly helpless, he is conducted to his room. There
may be other "boarders" in this apartment, but they are generally too
drunk to notice what is going on. The doors are utterly without
fastenings, and are oiled to prevent them from creaking. When all is
quiet, and the victim is plunged in a heavy slumber, the "Jackal" creeps
up the stairs, enters the room, and robs the poor fellow of whatever
money or valuables he may have on his person. In the morning, when the
sailor awakens, sick and disheartened, he discovers his loss. The
landlord is full of sympathy for him, and is indignant that such an
outrage should have been perpetrated beneath his roof. He has the house
searched, and, if the sailor cannot be made drunk again, goes through the
farce of causing the arrest of a "stool-pigeon," who is of course
discharged for lack of evidence against him. Usually, however, the
sailor is made drunk, and is gotten to sea again on a long voyage as soon
as possible.

The various methods of forcing a sailor to sea are called "Shanghaiing."
The practice is resorted to by landlords, to enable them to complete the
crews which they have contracted to furnish to vessels. The owners and
masters of these vessels are fully aware of the infamous manner in which
men are procured for them, but say they must either connive at it, or let
their vessels go to sea shorthanded. In "Shanghaiing" a sober man,
resort is had to false promises. He is induced to go on board of a
vessel, "to see how he likes her." He is then detained by force until
the ship has left port. His true name is not entered on the list
presented at the Custom House on the day before sailing, but he is passed
under a fictitious name. When the wretches who carry on this business
are very much pressed for men, they do not hesitate to waylay sailors,
knock them senseless, and convey them on board vessels in this condition.
They are not particular as to the qualifications of the men they ship as
"able-bodied and thorough seamen." They sometimes abduct men who have
never trod the deck of a ship before. During the war the notorious
Thomas Hadden, of 374 Water street, induced a poor tailor to go on board
of a ship by telling him that the crew wanted their clothes mended, and
assured him that the "job" would give him employment for several days,
and amply repay him for his trouble. The tailor, upon going on board,
was at once set to work in the forecastle on a lot of dilapidated
jackets, and Mr. Hadden at once went ashore. Immediately the cables were
cast off, and the ship was towed out into the stream by a tug which had
been held in readiness. The unsuspecting tailor continued his work,
never noticing the motion of the ship, and it was not until she had
crossed the bar, and gotten to sea, that he was aroused by the rough
voice of the mate, commanding him to go to his duty on deck. Then, to
his horror, he found that he was on his way to Canton. He returned,
after a voyage of two years, and at once took measures to bring Hadden to
justice. The wretch escaped, however, and was not seen again in Water
street for three years. Mr. Hadden is now serving out a term of ten
years imprisonment in the New Jersey Penitentiary, for grand larceny.

Usually, however, "Shanghaiing" is practised upon drunken sailors only.
They are made drunk, as has been stated, immediately after the discovery
of the loss of their wages, and are kept so until an opportunity presents
itself for sending them to sea. Thus they are gotten rid of, care being
taken to ship them only on voyages of two and three years duration. The
landlords receive a premium on the men furnished by them. They also make
out fictitious claims against the poor fellows, and pocket the three
months' wages advanced by the owners or masters of the vessels on which
the unfortunates are shipped.

[Picture: NEW YORK SEAMEN'S EXCHANGE BUILDING.]

Thus the sailor is plundered, made drunk, prevented from enjoying any
other society on shore but that of thieves and the lowest prostitutes.
It frequently happens that the poor fellow never receives the benefit of
a single penny of his earnings, and never spends more than a week or ten
days ashore between his voyages. Efforts have been made by conscientious
ship-owners to put a stop to the outrages of the landlords, but each one
has failed. The wretches have banded together, and have prevented
sailors from shipping, and in the end the ship-owners have been compelled
to abandon the sailor to the mercy of his tyrants. Only a law of
Congress, regulating sailors' boarding houses, according to the system
now in use in England, will remedy the evil. Efforts are now being made
to secure the passage, during the present session of Congress, of a bill,
entitled the "Shipping Commissioners' Bill," which has received the
sanction of the shipping merchants of New York, and which will
effectually remedy the evils we have described.

The merchants of the city have also organized a "Seamen's Exchange," the
objects of which are thus set forth by the Association:

"The objects of this Association shall be the moral, mental, and social
improvement of seamen, to elevate their character and efficiency as a
class, and to protect them from impositions and abuses at home and
abroad.

"To build up such an organization of respectable seamen as will command
the respect of the community, enable ship-owners to protect themselves
from the imposition of worthless and disorderly characters claiming to be
seamen, but disgracing the name, and secure for their vessels reliable
and efficient crews; while at the same time the seaman will be enabled to
select good ships and good officers, and thus secure good treatment."

They propose to attain these objects by the adoption of the following
measures:

"To provide an exchange, reading-room, library, and savings-bank which
shall be open to all seamen on the payment of a small annual
subscription. To issue certificates of membership, and of character and
capacity. To assert and maintain perfect liberty in the selection of
boarding-houses, shipping-offices, and voyages. To refuse to pay or to
receive 'bonus-money' for ships, or 'blood-money' for men, by which
custom both shipowners and seamen are sufferers. To supply vessels with
crews without the intervention of any shipping-master should it become
necessary. To discourage the system of advanced wages as the source of
many evils and but few benefits. To keep a record of the name, age,
character, and capacity, so far as can be ascertained, of every member of
this Association; also, of the vessels in port, their class, owners or
agents, and the voyages on which they are bound. To establish means by
which seamen can receive afternoon and evening lessons in the common
English branches and navigation. To encourage and assist every sailor in
his efforts to improve his character and to save his hard-earned money
for the benefit of himself and his family, and on all suitable occasions
to give him such advice and information as his circumstances may seem to
require."

Our engraving presents a view of the building now in course of erection
by the Association.

LXXVI. THE BALLET.

The ballet seems at last to have found a home in New York, and to have
become one of the permanent institutions of the great city,--witness the
triumphs of the Black Crook, of Humpty Dumpty, and the spectacular plays
of the Grand Opera House. It must be confessed that it is well done
here. The Black Crook carries off the palm. Its ballets are the best
arranged and the best executed, and its dancers are as good looking and
attractive as ballet girls ever are.

There are several hundred girls and women in New York who earn their
living by dancing in the ballets of the various theatres. The Black
Crook alone employs about one hundred. Those who have seen these damsels
in their glory, in the full glare of the foot and calcium lights, amidst
the most gorgeous surroundings, and under the influence of delicious
music, may have come to the conclusion that such a life must be very
pleasant. They little know the experience of a ballet girl. "It's a
hard life," said one of them, not long since, "and very little fun in it,
if you're decent."

The ballet girl always appears on the bills as a miss, but some of them
are married, and have to support helpless or worthless husbands. They
are of all nationalities. The Premieres are generally French or
Italian--at least on the bills. These are usually excellent dancers, and
are fond of their art. They are well paid, and as a rule save their
money. Mdlle. Bonafanti received $150 per week from the managers of
Niblo's Theatre. Mdlle. Morlacchi also receives large sums. She is a
sensible woman, and has invested her earnings in a pretty home in New
England, where she spends her summers.

[Picture: THE BALLET.]

Not more than one or two in the same establishment receive such high pay,
however. The salaries, as a rule, are small. The Secondas at Niblo's,
the home of the Black Crook, receive from $50 to $100 per week. There
are twelve coryphees who earn from $25 to $30 per week. Then follow the
first, second, and third lines of the ballet, with wages ranging from $5
to $30 per week. The girls who march in the processions of female
soldiers receive about $8 per week. The costumes, armor, etc., are
furnished by the theatre, but there are many articles of dress which the
girls are obliged to furnish at their own expense.

The ballet girl rises about eight o'clock in the morning, and is off to
rehearsal by nine. A duller, more dreary sight than a rehearsal of a
ballet by daylight, and in plain dress, cannot be imagined. The theatre
is dark and gloomy, the stage not much lighter, and everything is in
confusion. There is a smell of escaping gas in all parts of the
building. Scattered about the stage are a number of girls and women in
half skirts, with fleshings on their legs, and some of them with woollen
hose drawn over the fleshings to keep them warm. They are terribly jaded
and hollow eyed, and they seem incapable of being interested in anything.
A very different set from the smiling, graceful houris of the evening
before. At a given signal the music begins, and the girls commence a
series of capers which seem utterly ridiculous. It is downright hard
work for the girls, however; and those who are not engaged in leaping, or
pirouetting, or wriggling, are leaning against the scenery and panting
with fatigue. The leader of the ballet storms and swears at them, and is
made frantic by every little mistake. The rehearsal occupies several
hours. If there is a matinee that day, it is kept up until it is time
for the girls to dress for that performance. Between the close of the
matinee, and the opening of the evening performance, there is not much
time for the tired girls to rest.

Upon assembling for the evening performance, the girls are dressed by a
practical costumer, whose business it is to see that each one wears her
costume properly. This arranged, they pass down to the painter's room,
where their cheeks, ears, and nostrils are "touched up" by an artist.
Their hair is dressed by another artist, and every defect of face and
figure is overcome as far as is possible. Thus adorned, the dull and
jaded girl of the morning becomes, under the magical influence of the
footlights, a dazzling sprite, and the object of the admiration of the
half-grown boys and brainless men who crowd the front rows of orchestra
seats.

The performance is not over until near midnight. Then the dancer must
change her dress, fold her stage dress carefully away, make up her
bundle, and set out for home. The principal dancers, such as Bonafanti,
and Morlacchi, of course, have an easier time than the ordinary ballet
girls, but all work hard.

It is commonly supposed that the ballet-dancer is of necessity an impure
woman. Too many of them are; but, as a class, they are much abused.
They work hard, and do not have much leisure time, and deserve more
sympathy than reproach. Men, especially, think that, because they appear
on the stage in a state of semi-nudity, they are immodest and of easy
virtue; and in New York there is a class of men, of nominal
respectability, who appear to regard ballet-dancers as their legitimate
prey. They exert all their arts to lead these poor girls astray, and are
too often successful. There is not a ballet-dancer in the city but can
tell many a tale of persecutions of this kind; and if ever the devil
employed a legion of emissaries to do his work, they must be the
grinning, leering men who occupy the front seats in the theatres during
the ballet performances, and who spend their leisure time in seeking to
compass the ballet-girl's ruin.

The ballet-girl, says Olive Logan, "is a dancer, and loves dancing as an
art. That pose into which she now throws herself with such abandon, is
not a vile pandering to the tastes of those giggling men in the orchestra
stalls, but is an effort, which, to her idea, is as loving a tribute to a
beloved art as a painter's dearest pencil touch is to him. I have seen
these women burst into tears on leaving the stage, because they had
observed men laughing among themselves, rolling their eyes about, and
evidently making unworthy comments on the pretty creatures before them,
whose whole heart was for the hour lovingly given over to Terpsichore.
'It is _they_ who are bad,' said Mdlle. B--- to me, the other night; 'it
is not we.'"

The majority of the ballet-dancers dwell with their parents, but many of
those in the upper ranks of the profession like the freedom of Bleecker
street, and reside in that thoroughfare. Thompson street also contains
several boarding-houses patronized by dancers and burlesque actresses. A
writer in the New York _World_ gives the following clever sketch of the
more prosperous ballet-girl at home:

"It was strictly a theatrical boarding-house, and all the young ladies
were dancers. 'It would never do to have anybody else here. Mrs.
Sullivan is Miss Jones's dresser at the "Adelphi," and she has kept house
here some years. Her husband was an actor, and he went to California and
never came back. She's a dear good woman, and treats us like her
daughters.'

"'How many of you board here?'

"'Thirteen. All of them are high-priced dancers--no ballet and utility
girls here. No, _sir_! We pay $10 to $15 a week for board. She treats
us like her own family.'

"Miss Bell then suggested a tour of the house, offering to be the guide
of such an exploration. Tripping down stairs with the elastic hop of a
bird, she knocked at the door of the lower front chamber, and immediately
ushered her companion into the room. It was large and elegant, and in
exquisite order. One really beautiful girl was driving a sewing-machine
before a window with the industry of a seamstress. Another was engaged
in trimming a tiny pair of satin boots with beads of every color. She
was short, small, and swarthy, her chief beauty being a languishing pair
of black eyes. A third lay at full length on a small bed in an alcove,
reading _Harper's Bazaar_ with the avidity of a milliner, or a lady of
fashion. She was exceedingly pretty and ladylike. Two of them wore the
inevitable white wrapper, while the third was fully dressed in a simple
gray walking-suit. The lovely creature at the sewing-machine was Miss
Ethel Lynn of the 'Lyceum;' the swarthy girl was Miss Lottie Taylor of
the 'Gaiety,' and the third was another Miss Lynn, pseudo-sister of
Ethel, with whom she 'worked,' but in reality a no-relation named Ellis.
The three girls smiled prettily enough on learning their visitor's
object, and the recumbent beauty regretted that it was impossible, under
the circumstances, to publish a picture of the scene.