Now the forlorn hope Dr. Parkhurst had led was followed by a strong column of assault, and although Tammany fought hard to shield its creatures, and Dr. Parkhurst was vilified, accused, even arrested and prosecuted upon trumped-up charges, the city rose to back him. A memorial was presented to the State Senate praying for a full public inquiry into the state of the police department. Tammany still fought; its nominee, Governor Flower, Governor of the State of New York, refused to approve the inquiry, on the ground that it was needless. “No city in the State has a lower tax rate than New York,” he said; “no city has a better police regulation; no city has a lower ratio of crime; ... a better health department, better parks, better schools, better credit.... No city is so comfortable a place to live in. That bad men sometimes get into office there is true; that ideal municipal government has not yet been attained there is true; but these things are equally true of every city in the world, they are truer of other cities of our State than they are of New York.”
Despite all opposition, a Committee was appointed and soon commenced a searching investigation. It was presided over by Senator Lexow, and is still known as the Lexow Commission. How exhaustively it dealt with the business may be seen from the fact that 678 witnesses were examined on oath, that the evidence filled 10,576 pages of printed matter, and that nine months elapsed before it could present its first provisional report.
Immense difficulties were experienced in obtaining evidence. The influence of the police was paramount; and it was, no doubt, in consequence of the reluctance of witnesses to speak against the police that the Lexow Committee reported so strongly. It is necessary to bear this in mind, since it may be that the police prejudiced their own case at this point or at that by efforts to keep back the facts. The Committee found that the witnesses they called before them were subjected to outrage if they dared to state what they knew. “They were abused, clubbed, and imprisoned, even convicted of crimes on false testimony by policemen and their accomplices. Men of business were harassed and annoyed in their affairs ... people of all degrees seemed to feel that to antagonise the police was to call down upon themselves the swift judgment and persecution of an invulnerable force.... The uniform belief was that if they spoke against the police, had helped the Committee, or had given information, their business would be ruined, they would be hounded from the city, and their lives even jeopardised.” The Committee therefore came to the conclusion that the police formed a separate and highly privileged class, armed with the authority and the machinery for oppression and punishment, but practically free themselves from the operation of the criminal law.
This indictment was based upon clear proof of the irregularities practised by certain members of the New York police. They may be summarised under four principal heads, with each of which I will deal in turn.
(1) Blackmail.—A tariff was fixed under which a tax was imposed upon disorderly houses, drinking shops, gambling places, and so forth, and was paid, no doubt cheerfully, for immunity from police interference. This tax varied from twenty dollars (£4) to five hundred dollars (£100) per month. The moneys were collected by detectives and other constables, who received a commission upon the sums raised. These extortions were not limited to the caterers for vice, mostly native American citizens. The poor, ignorant, and friendless foreigner, who was seeking a new home in the New World, was constantly and wantonly plundered. If he dared to protest he was beaten and maltreated. A wretched Italian shoeblack, who had cleaned an officer’s boots for a month on credit, was half-killed when he dared to ask for his money. A Russian Jewess who had opened a small tobacco shop got into the black books of certain detectives by refusing to supply them for nothing, was arrested on a false charge, and heavily fined.
(2) Brutality.—These charges cover a wide range. The Lexow Committee stigmatised the police-stations as “slaughter-houses,”
where “prisoners, in custody of officers of the law and under the law’s protection, were brutally kicked and maltreated almost within view of the judge presiding in the court.” Numbers of witnesses testified to the severe assaults made upon them at the station-houses. It was a word and a blow with the policeman, often no previous word. A significant story was told to the Committee by Mr. Costello, an Irishman attached to the staff of the New York Herald. His work took him much to the police headquarters, and he was apparently on good terms with most of the officers. The experience he thus gained led him to produce a book called “Our Police Protectors,” which had a good sale, under the patronage of the police, until one of the officers brought out a book, which drove Costello’s out of sale. Costello, accepting his disappointment, produced another book about the Fire Department. Again he met with competition from a man protected by the fire and police authorities. He endeavoured to fight for his own hand, but soon got to loggerheads with the police. He was arrested on a trumped-up charge, and when taken to the station-house was knocked down by an officer—“brass-knuckled,” for the ruffian’s fist was armed with brass knuckles. Then he was brutally kicked as he lay half-stunned in the muddy gutter. Another still more brutal case was that of a gentleman who interposed in a fight and was attacked by a policeman who rushed into the mêlée. The officer, striking out wildly with his club, caught the well-meaning gentleman on the face and knocked his eye out. Another officer attacked a man who was dissatisfied with the shell-fish he bought at an oyster stand, the keeper of which had paid for police protection. The custodian of order forthwith exerted his authority on the side of his friend and smashed in the teeth of the discontented customer. Another witness appeared before the Committee bleeding and disfigured, just as he had come out of police hands. This man had been robbed of four dollars while asleep on a doorstep, and his whole offence was in having appealed to the police for assistance in recovering his money.
In all these and similar cases the victims could not hope for redress. The police were above the law, and were not held responsible for offences, not even for such felonious assaults as those described, which would have entailed upon ordinary citizens a sentence of four or five years’ imprisonment. The policeman, even if charged and convicted, was certain to be let off with a small fine. But, as a general rule, the sufferers knew too well that it was useless to take proceedings. Mr. Costello, already mentioned, was asked why he had not done so. In answer he used the well-known saying, “It is no use going to law with the devil when the court is in hell.” The gentleman who lost his eye because he was so weak as to interfere in a street fight preferred to pay a lawyer to bribe his assailant not to appear against him, although the boot was entirely on the other leg and the offender was the policeman. In the case of the Italian shoeblack his mates raised money enough to pay a lawyer, but could never get the case brought into court. In considering these charges of brutality, however, it is but fair to bear in mind the dangerous character of certain classes of the population with which the New York police have to deal, and the readiness with which resort is had to lethal weapons. To expect from them the patience and forbearance that we look for from the English police would be obviously unreasonable.