The Third Degree
After a crook has been arrested and brought to Police Headquarters, and the authorities believe that he possesses evidence that will convict himself, or that he belongs to a “gang” of criminals that should be safely landed in prison without delay, he is forthwith put through the “third degree.” The men of the Detective Bureau make light of this star chamber inquisitorial proceeding for the discovery of crime, and say that it does not mean anything, but those who have passed through the experience have a different tale to tell.
When crooks conspire to defeat the ends of justice, all they have to do is simply to keep “mum.” If there are three persons in a burglary or safe-breaking job, as is often the case, and one gets caught, the other two pool their interests and secure him a lawyer.
As soon as the police have reason to believe that the man under arrest is concealing valuable information, he is taken to Police Headquarters on a short commitment. Perhaps they may put some wise “guy,” or “stool pigeon” in the cell with him to get him to make a damaging statement when he is off his guard. As near as can be learned from various sources, the “third degree” is in the nature of a rigid examination, perhaps like the torture which is still practised on “suspects” in China, Russia and Turkey, to draw out a confession of guilt, even where none exists. I asked several crooks to explain to me the nature of the third degree, all of whom claimed to have gone through the experience at different times. When I came to compare notes, I found they all told almost the identical story.
A man who spent more than two years in the Tombs on a murder charge was put through the “third degree” both in the Fifth Street Station House and at Police Headquarters. It is not customary to put a man through the third degree in the station house, but this man claims to have been an exception. The crook in question spent several nights in the cells in the Fifth Street House, and spoke from experience. On the morning of the day when he was taken to 300 Mulberry street, he said two plain clothes men took him from a cell in the basement, and forthwith boxed his ears and cuffed him unmercifully over the face for five minutes, or until he became greatly excited and almost insane! After this, he was taken upstairs to a room, a veritable sweat-box, where he was “piled” with questions, one after another, for an hour, for the purpose, if possible, of making him contradict himself. All the answers he gave during this star-chamber investigation were taken down, and he was then compelled to sign, or else have his face and ears boxed a second time. In reality the signing of this document made him the author of a crime. In other words, the “third degree” is simply giving to a crook a most unmerciful cuffing and abusing, till his eyes are all discolored, and his face is covered with blood, and he is more silly than sane. This is done that he may confess all the details of his crime, and become an informer on those who were in the job with him. This method is the torture of the Orient, the thumbscrews of the Middle Ages, and is cruel and diabolical.
Central Office men have said that the third degree was one of Inspector Byrnes’ “hobbies,” as he resorted to it on all occasions.
When it began to leak out in 1884 that Jake Sharp had bribed the Board of Aldermen to transfer to his company the Broadway franchise, it was found most difficult to secure any evidence to connect the guilty ones with the crime. Inspector Byrnes, who was in the Detective Department at the time, devised means whereby he was able with the aid of some of his men, to entice one of the “boodlers” to a Sixth avenue restaurant, where the flow of wine unloosed his tongue, and where he admitted that he had sold his vote to Jake Sharp for five thousand dollars. Inspector Byrnes, who was on the premises behind a screen, hidden from view, had all the admissions taken down, and they were used to convict the “boodler” and send him to State Prison.
After this “boodler’s” arrest, and he was taken to Headquarters, Byrnes put him through the “third degree”; when he saw the answers and admissions he had made in the Sixth avenue restaurant in cold type, he broke down.
Whether the police are justified for the various uses to which they put the “third degree” in ferreting out crime, I am not in a position to state. When I asked a “cop” why they hit those fellows who passed through the “third degree,” he replied: “You know crooks are the worst kind of liars; unless the police gave them a moderate cuffing, they would tell them a fake story which it would be a waste of time to listen to.”
Some men do not blame the police for a moderate use of the “third degree” in order to discover crime, but where to draw the line is a most difficult thing. Judging from Professor Munsterburg’s protest against the “third degree” in his book, “On the Witness Stand,” Germany seems to have a more diabolical thumbscrew system of the “third degree” than New York. Says the German professor:
“There are no longer any thumbscrews, but the lower orders of the police have still uncounted means to make the prisoner’s life uncomfortable and perhaps intolerable, and to break down his energy. A rat put secretly into a woman’s cell may exhaust her nervous system and her inner strength till she is unable to stick to her story. The dazzling light, and the cold-water hose, and the secret blow still seem to serve, even if nine-tenths of the newspaper stories of the ‘third degree’ are exaggrated. Worst of all are the brutal shocks given with fiendish cruelty to the terrified imagination of the suspect. Decent public opinion stands firmly again such barbarism; and this opposition springs not only from sentimental horror and from aesthetic disgust; stronger, perhaps, than either of these is the instinctive conviction that the method is ineffective in bringing out the real truth. At all times innocent men have been accused by the tortured ones, crimes which were never committed have been confessed, infamous lies have been invented, to satisfy the demands of the torturers. Under pain and fear, a man may make any admission which will relieve his suffering, and, still more misleading, his mind may lose the power to discriminate between illusion and real memory.”
Putting a Crook through the Third Degree at Police Headquarters.
CHAPTER XXII
THE CITY GANGS
For over sixty years the people of New York have been afflicted with mercenary bands of lawless thieves and hoodlums who are known to the authorities as “Gangs.” The only justification for their existence is robbery, murder and revenge. They fight their murderous battles on the streets of the city, and during the melee assault and rob the people, after which they flee with the plunder. Whenever they get into trouble, the alderman, district captain or some other ward “heeler” comes to their rescue, and they in turn do good service for him on election day as repeaters, stuffing ballot boxes, and assaulting voters. Each gang is supposed to belong to some political party, who are able to wield considerable “pull” in time of trouble.
More than once they were responsible for a reign of terror in many parts of the city. They were known to the police as “gangs,” perhaps on account of their clannishness, for whenever they participated in any local fight or riot, they usually stuck together and fought like tigers for what they called their own rights. It is more than likely that some of the gangs were bound together by an oath which placed each member under pains and penalties not to reveal their secrets. Whatever these oaths were, we are unable to say, but we hardly think they were as rigid as the oaths of the Molly Maguires or the Mafia?
The police records of the old New York gangs of fifty years ago, show them to be mercenary, corrupt and dissipated, and often revelling in riot and bloodshed; and when they desired to carry out their evil purposes, they did not scruple at robbery or murder. For years they have had full sway in the city on account of politics, but when their conduct became unbearable, and oppressive, and all irenic measures failed to break them up, the police were appealed to, came upon them unexpectedly, clubbed the leaders, and sent many of them to prison for long and short terms.
The most notorious of these predatory bands was known as the Whyo Gang. They usually “hung out” in the vicinity of the Five Points, Baxter, Leonard and Centre streets. This part of the city was then known in police parlance as “The Bloody Sixth Precinct.” For nearly a hundred years, crimes of every description, including a large number of robberies, burglaries and holdups had been committed here. For nearly three-quarters of a century, the Sixth Precinct was known as the hotbed of crime, and the Whyo Gang found it a profitable field for their labors.
The Whyo Gang was made up of young pickpockets and thieves of the worst character, and many of them, if not all, spent years in jail. Two leaders of the Whyo Gang, Dannie Lyons and Dannie Driscoll, were convicted of the crime of murder, and hanged in the yard of the Tombs Prison. Lyons was executed August 21st, 1886, and Driscoll January 23d, 1888. The gang had robbed and murdered scores of inoffensive people on the streets of the city, whose untimely end will always remain a mystery.
“The Bloody Sixth” no longer carries the same reputation it did forty years ago. No doubt much that was said and written of it was not all true; nevertheless, it furnished more murders than any other five city wards. It ought to be remembered that the “Sixth” contains the Five Points, Mulberry Bend, the Criminal Courts Building, and the Tombs Prison, where so many “tough” characters are harbored? The population at the present time consists largely of Italians, Jews, Polaks and Chinese. It has a great many squalid tenements, low dives, groggeries, gin mills and several opium dens.
The Slaughter House Gang held forth in the Fourth Ward, and had its headquarters over a squalid gin mill at the corner of Water street and James Slip. It was run by a band of desperate characters, who terrorized the neighboring water fronts. Captain Allaire took energetic means to break it up, and succeeded only when he landed the piratical ring leaders in prison.
The Cochran Roost Gang held forth at the corner of East Thirty-sixth street and First avenue. It is said that this gang had pledged themselves to kill policemen on sight. They laid wait for young and inexperienced policemen on dark nights with bricks and stones in their pockets. They usually hid themselves in alleyways and flat roofs, and many sanguinary battles took place between them and the police, in which they were usually worsted. Their headquarters were reached by climbing a broken down staircase or ladder, which they could hoist up with a rope, which led to an old shanty on the corner of First avenue and Thirty-sixth street; hence the name, Cochran’s Roost.
Handsome Harry Carlton, the last man who had the “honor” of being hanged in the yard of the Tombs Prison, December 5th, 1889, prior to the installation of the Electric Chair in Sing Sing Prison, was known as one of the brilliant lights of the Cochran’s Roost Gang.
The gang known as “The Forty Thieves” held forth at Forty-second street and Eleventh avenue. They had a local notoriety.
The Hell’s Kitchen Gang had their headquarters on Thirty-ninth street and Eleventh avenue. They usually fought negroes with guns, while the negroes in turn fought them with razors. The negroes and whites are far from being friendly in this neighborhood, and many battles have taken place in recent years.
The Gas House Gang was on Eighteenth street, near First avenue.
The Poverty Hollow Gang and the Dead Rabbit Gang were both on the East Side, in the neighborhood of Thirty-fourth street and Avenue A.
The two murderous associations of recent times are the Paul Kelly and Monk Eastman Gangs. The former held out on Cherry Hill, while the latter had their clubhouse on Stanton street, near the Bowery. A noted police official of experience, in speaking of the many efforts to break up the Monk Eastman and Paul Kelly Gangs, said that when these murderous ruffians were arrested by the police and taken before certain magistrates, the “pull” they exercised was so great that nothing could be done to them. As long as these gangs existed, it was impossible to have an honest election in New York. In later years they belonged to powerful political organizations, and were used for the purpose of controlling the city and State elections.
A few years ago Monk Eastman and some of his “pals” were sent to Sing Sing for a term of years for assault and robbery. The organization is still in existence, but is quiet.
The other leader, Paul Kelly, died some time ago of wounds received in a street battle. On his death bed he refused to say who shot him, but he left it with the members of the gang, when they come out of prison, to avenge his death.
The most recent criminal band that has sprung into prominence the past few years, is known as the Five Points Gang. During the hot summer spell they start out at night, robbing and assaulting East Side storekeepers, and people who are asleep around their doors. In one night they were able to get away with more than two thousand dollars. Several of the gang are now in prison, while many of the leaders are still at large.
Party politics is the one thing that fosters the Gang System in New York. As soon as the police arrest any of the gang leaders, they are aided in court by District Captains and leaders who have a solid pull with the Magistrate or Judge. After their discharge, they repeat the same lawlessness, until some person gets killed, when they are sent to prison.
CHAPTER XXIII
CRIMINAL TRIALS AND THE GLORIOUS UNCERTAINTY OF THE LAW
Celebrated Cases—Speedy Trials for Homicides—Lax
Conditions of Our Courts—Greasing the Machinery
of the Law—Crooks at the Bar—A Noted
Criminal Lawyer—Strange Sentences
Almost every year, New York witnesses a noted criminal trial, which frequently becomes a sensation in the community. For weeks beforehand the newspapers give an excruciating account of all the horrors of the case—involving the past history of the defendant; nor do they fail to drag in his father, mother, uncles and aunts, besides his business relations. When the day of trial comes, if the defendant happens to be at the bar for murder or some other noted crime, all the sickening details are re-hashed in the evening and morning papers. Sometimes the trial lasts from one week to three months, dragging itself slowly along, till everybody in the city becomes disgusted. All this, of course, is distinctively American, and as the people call for it, they are sure to get it. The New York editors are great literary caterers, and seem to know how to satisfy such depraved tastes. It has come to be an admitted fact that a criminal trial in New York is a most exciting experience, and for a time stirs the community, making it the main topic of interest at meals, clubs and society gatherings.
Criminal Branch of the Supreme Court on Centre Street, where the great murder trials of the past decade took place.
To watch the selection of the jury, and see panel after panel of intelligent men excused on the flimsiest grounds, is enough to make the Goddess of Justice open her eyes and weep.
During the past twelve years we have witnessed some of the most tragic murder trials in the history of the New York Bar, in which money and brains were used on both sides. When Roland B. Molineux, Dr. Kennedy, Albert T. Patrick and Harry K. Thaw were placed on trial, the courts were thronged daily with gaping crowds of men and women, breaking their necks to get a look at the defendants, and using all sorts of “pulls” to secure a seat in the court.
And as the jury is called and examined one by one, to read their real character as depicted on their faces when they take their seats to decide the fate of some weakling, a good judge of human nature can readily discern the result of the trial long before it is finished. Then, listen to the testimony that is presented; hear the lawyers wrangle for and against the prisoner, and, finally, watch the judge as he charges the jury, and then see the prisoner as he stands at the bar for sentence or acquittal. All this becomes a fearfully interesting piece of realism.
But the glorious uncertainty of the law leaves so many loopholes for the real criminal to escape punishment, and the innocent to get a term of imprisonment, that some of the rulings made in our courts are tragic enough to make angels weep.
Some time ago, a rich murderer was tried in this city. His defence was one that no Court in the land recognizes, viz.: the unwritten law. During the trial, one medical expert said that the defendant suffered from “brain storms.” In a more recent murder trial, the only defence offered was “Confusional Insanity,” all of which is simply a foolish way of trying to “beat” the case.
We could name a dozen of well known characters whose crimes have been heralded all over the land, who were sent to the death house, but after a couple of years, when the Court of Appeals decided that they should have another trial on a mere technicality, returned to the Tombs, and after a few abortive efforts to convict them a second time, were liberated, as the important witnesses were dead, or could not be found. It is difficult to say wherein lies the trouble. But with our present elective system, we are apt to get some very poor material as Judges. They lack educational and experimental qualifications. Nor can we abolish the right of appeal because some judges make foolish rulings. With such judicial material on the bench, the right of appeal is our only safety valve, and must be retained.
There is a widespread feeling in our day that many trials are only a huge farce, and the “unwritten law,” “benefit of the doubt,” and “long-drawn-out hypothetical questions” in a large number of cases are allowed to defeat the ends of justice.
In regard to homicides, nothing would appeal to the good sense of the community after an atrocious murder has been committed more than to give the murderer a speedy trial and summary justice. It is all “humbug” to keep a murderer shut up in the Tombs from six months to a year before trying him. When he goes forth to trial, if the witnesses are not all dead, they have forgotten nearly all of what was once fresh in their memory. Let there be speedy trials and quick punishment for all kinds of crime. This will deter others from following the footsteps of evil doers. In murder cases it would be well also if capital punishment were abolished, and life imprisonment substituted.
In nearly all the advanced countries of Europe, in criminal trials, swift justice is the order of the day.
In Great Britain there are no long-drawn-out trials. Nor will the judges allow delays on mere technicalities. Each case is decided on its own merits.
As a rule, the presiding judge exercises full control over the case, and as a result everything is done with quickness and dispatch, and the higher courts uphold such rulings.
In speaking of the lax conditions of our courts, a recent writer says: “The machinery of our courts seems to be passing slowly and inevitably into disrepute. Processes wrought out by wise and noble-minded men for the protection of life and property and the dispensation of justice, have been seized upon again and again by unscrupulous pettifoggers, and every technicality of the entire legal procedure has been converted into a loophole through which some scalawag has escaped. The country swarms with unhung murderers, and with thieves who walk the streets at noon unmanacled, who ought to be wearing striped suits inside of prison walls. When murder trials drag their weary lengths through the disgusting weeks and months of the year, only to end at last in a new trial, or in a pardon issued by some sentimental fool who has reached the Governor’s chair, is it to be wondered at that hot-headed men lose respect for statutes and judges and begin to talk of taking the law into their own hands? It is high time that our judges and lawyers were awake, and took measures to reform the present processes of criminal jurisprudence so as to make the punishment of crime both swift and certain.”
It is a great mistake to shield rich criminals from their just desserts, as is sometimes done. Punishment should be meted out to all alike at all hazards, else it will have no terrors for the wrongdoer. Criminals must be impressed with the dignity and majesty of the law—no matter what is their social or commercial standing.
A few years ago, Roland B. Molineux had a hard battle for his liberty. He was always brave and optimistic, and believed all alone that in the end he would be vindicated. He must have spent about twenty months in the Tombs, and the same length of time in the death house awaiting the decision of the Court of Appeals. As I had always taken a deep interest in the young man, I called to see him in the death house. Here he manifested the same hopeful spirit he had shown all along. During his long confinement it looked sometimes as if fate was conspiring against him, but thanks to his gritty father, who stuck so nobly by him, and the matchless eloquence of Governor Black, the undisputed Demosthenes of the New York Bar, he was finally acquitted. In this trial, which was fairly conducted, Governor Black was master of the situation, and conquered. From this time, either in civil or criminal trials, the Governor was the peer of any lawyer in the land. It must also be said that there was another gentleman, who filled no inconspicuous part in the vindication of Molineux, and that was Judge Olcott, who was a peacemaker and diplomat of the highest order.