Leaving Broadway at Leonard or Franklin streets, one finds himself, after a walk of two blocks in an easterly direction, in a wide thoroughfare, called Centre street. His attention is at once attracted by a large, heavy granite building, constructed in the style of an Egyptian temple. This is the Tombs. The proper name of the building is "The Halls of Justice," but it is now by common consent spoken of simply as the Tombs. It occupies an entire square, and is bounded by Centre, Elm, Franklin, and Leonard streets. The main entrance is on Centre street, through a vast and gloomy corridor, the sternness of which is enough to strike terror to the soul of a criminal. Within the walls which face the street, is a large quadrangle. In this there are three prisons, several stories high. One of these is for men, the other for boys, and the third for women. The gallows stands in the prison yard, when there is need for it, all executions of criminals in this city being conducted as privately as possible.
The prison is one of the smallest in America, and is utterly inadequate to the necessities of the city. It was built at a time when New York was hardly half as large as the metropolis of to-day, and is now almost always overcrowded to an extent which renders it fearful. It is kept perfectly clean, its sanitary regulations being very rigid. It is very gloomy in its interior, and is one of the strongest and securest prisons in the world.
[Illustration: The Tombs—City Prison.]
No lights are allowed in the cells, which are very small, but a narrow aperture cut obliquely in the wall, near the ceiling, admits the sunshine, and at the same time cuts off the inmates from a view of what is passing without. Besides these, there are six comfortable cells located just over the main entrance. These are for the use of criminals of the wealthier class, who can afford to pay for such comforts. Forgers, fraudulent merchants, and the like, pass the hours of their detention in these rooms, while their humbler, but no more guilty brothers in crime are shut up in the close, narrow cells we have described. These rooms command a view of the street, so that their occupants are not entirely cut off from the outer world.
THE BUMMER'S CELL.
The main cell in the prison is a large room, with a capacity for holding about two hundred persons. It is known as the "Bummer's Cell." It is generally full on Saturday night, which is always a busy time for the police. The working classes are paid their weekly wages on Saturday, and having no labor to perform on the Sabbath, take Saturday night for their periodical dissipation, comforting themselves with the reflection that if they carry their revels to too great an excess, they can sleep off the bad effects on Sunday.
From sunset until long after midnight on Saturday, the police are busy ridding the streets of drunken and disorderly persons. As soon as a person is arrested, he is taken to the Toombs, or one of the station houses. It is the duty of the captain in charge of the precinct to lock up every person thus brought in. He has no discretion, and he is often compelled to throw those of whose innocence he is satisfied, into the company of the most abandoned wretches for an entire night. Drunkenness, disorderly conduct, and fighting are the principal charges brought against the Saturday night inmates of the Bummer's Cell. Many visitors to the city, by yielding to the temptation to drink too much liquor, pay for their folly by an acquaintance with the Bummer's Cell. They lose their self control in the splendid gin palaces of the city, and when they recover their consciousness find themselves in a hot, close room, filled with the vilest and most depraved wretches. The noise, profanity, and obscenity, are fearful. All classes, all ages, are represented there. Even little children are lost forever by being immured for a single night in such horrible company. The females are confined in a separate part of the prison. No entreaties or explanations are of the least avail. All must await with as much patience as possible, the opening of the court the next morning.
THE TOMBS POLICE COURT.
The Court opens at six o'clock on Sunday morning. It is presided over by Justice Joseph Bowling, a short, thick-set man, with a handsome face, and a full, well-shaped head, indicating both ability and determination. Judge Dowling is still a young man, and is one of the most efficient magistrates in the city. His decisions are quickly rendered, and are generally just. He has a hard class of people to deal with, and this has made him not a little sharp in his manner. A stranger is at once struck with the quick, penetrating power of his glance. He seems to look right through a criminal, and persons brought before him generally find it impossible to deceive him. This has made him the terror of criminals, who have come to regard an arraignment before him as equivalent to a conviction, as the one is tolerably sure to follow the other. At the same time he is kind and considerate to those who are simply unfortunate. Vice finds him an unrelenting foe, and virtue a fearless defender. So much for the man.
As soon as the Court is opened, the prisoners are called up in the order of their arrival during the previous night. Here drunkenness without disorder, and first offences of a minor character, are punished with a reprimand, and the prisoners are discharged. These cases constitute a majority of the arrests, and the number of persons in the dock is soon reduced to a mere handfull. The more serious cases are either held for further examination or sent on trial before a higher court.