Mrs. Foster was killed at the Park Avenue Hotel fire, in March, 1901, and her untimely death has been deeply regretted.
Prison Angels are born—not made. Many persons have tried to be an “Angel to the Prisoners,” but have failed, as no amount of training can make one.
Mrs. Foster during her long and useful life, was a very charitable lady, and in course of a year gave away much money, clothing, shoes and railroad tickets and meals, to hundreds of men and women as they came out of prison. That she had been deceived scores of times by worthless “fakirs” cannot be denied, yet she continued in this thankless work down till her untimely death. In early life, she had the means to give away, and she gave it with a lavish hand. But much of the money, clothing and railroad tickets which she so generously gave to “panhandlers” and crooks just out of prison was worse than wasted, as a great deal of it went for drink, and before long all those “bums” which she had helped were back in the Tombs again. I can recall at the present moment a person of this character, receiving money from Mrs. Foster on a Sunday afternoon to go, as he said, to his home in Connecticut, where he said his friends would give him employment. She was careful when she gave him the railroad fare to hand him a postal card, requesting him to write a few lines when he arrived at his destination. For weeks afterwards, whenever I met her, I asked her if she had heard from the fellow whose fare she had paid to Connecticut. But she always replied in the negative. That worthless fellow was a sample of hundreds of others who had been befriended, but who used the money for drink. My own impression was that he never left the city. When I afterwards came to place him, I found that his name was Murray. I then remembered that he was a chronic “dead beat,” and always took a special delight in swindling tender-hearted humanitarians.
One of the last cases that Mrs. Foster took an interest in before her death was that of Florence Burns, who was charged with the murder of a young man named Brooks. The examination took place in the Court of Special Sessions, before Justice Meyers, who acted the part of a sitting magistrate. The District Attorney was represented by one of his assistants, and ex-District Attorney Backus, of Brooklyn, represented the defendant. Justice Meyers, who is the personification of fairness in his rulings, satisfied both sides. During the hearing, which lasted several days, Mrs. Foster stood by the young woman as her best friend, when all others had apparently forsaken her. But this is just the kind of work Mrs. Foster had been doing—of the most unselfish and loving character to prison unfortunates for nearly twenty years. A year or two before her death, a couple of lying officials of the Tombs told her an untruthful story about one of the missionaries. As soon as she learned how these officials had deceived her, she shunned them forever afterwards.
As is well known, some of the habitues of “Bummers’” Hall become very religious after their own way, and are ready to believe in any or all the creeds of Christendom, provided they can make a few dollars out of the credulous.
I have found that when these fellows try to sell you a “gold brick” or borrow money from you, the best thing to do is to “drop them.” Nearly all of them possess unlimited cheek, more especially as borrowers and beggars. After they have duped you, they chuckle over their smartness.
A Tombs keeper asked one of these chronic “panhandlers” why he did not buy his own tobacco. He replied: “What’s the use, when you have so many ‘suckers’ around here?” A maiden lady, the daughter of a city clergyman, was in the habit of doing missionary work in the prison.
In those days, there was a tall, slick gentleman, who had a remarkable oily tongue. He occupied a cell in the old prison, immediately behind the desk. This crook was able to ingratiate himself into the affections of this young lady, so that he was able to secure from her no less than seventy to one hundred dollars, together with a good deal of warm clothing, and two or three meals prepared at her own home weekly. With the money received, he had one of Begg’s men fetch a pint of “booze” daily. When it was discovered he was immediately shipped to the “Annex,” and all his privileges cut off. Soon after this he was sent to Sing Sing, where he served about five full years.
It is the commonest thing in the world for a crook to ask the assistance of a lady missionary to get him out of prison, and present a “gold brick” story that is nothing but deception and fabrication from first to last. After hearing hundreds of these stories made out of “whole cloth,” I have come to the conclusion that criminals, with rare exceptions, are born liars, and they seldom tell the truth, although it would do them far more good in the end. I have found by careful observation that anyone who has started in to cover up his guilt with lies is in a hopeless state of depravity, and remains beyond the reach of even the Gospel. But it is not alone missionaries and Tombs Angels that are deceived by such characters, but all who give credence to what they say.
Crooks as a rule read the missionary’s character, and soon find out who are the “easy marks” in the prison. As soon as they find a person—usually a woman who is sympathetic—they pour into her ear a tale of woe in which the crook presents a real case of injured innocence and persecution.