A. Yes, sir.
Q. Were the officers in uniform?
A. All in uniform. When they went into the station-house they told their story, and when I went to tell my story, they wouldn’t listen. They heard the policeman’s story, but would not let us tell ours at all. Another officer took me to the court, and Gwinnen took my partner along; when we got to the other side of the station-house, Sixty-seventh and Lexington Avenue, this Gwinnen took off his belt, doubled it in two, and struck my partner in the face two or three times.
Q. You were then under arrest?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. And on your way to the police-court?
A. Yes, sir; I appealed to the officer that had me, and I said, “Officer, tell him that he should not hit him any more;” so after he turned around my partner was a sight.—Vol. iv., pp. 3576-7.
The sequel of this episode is interesting. The judge, apparently thinking the poor wretches who were brought before him all bloody had had enough of it, dismissed the case. Strange to say, the victims in this case endeavoured to obtain redress. They appealed to the Superintendent, who promised that the officers should be punished. Nothing was done. They then made another effort, raised £5 to pay a lawyer, and began an action for assault. One officer was held for the Grand Jury. But it was postponed again and again. The lawyer insisted on more money, which was not forthcoming, and so the Italians lost their £5, had their beating, and do not even appear to have recovered their 75 cents.
The lesson thus taught, not to throw good money after bad, and the impossibility of getting justice of a policeman, has been learned so well that one marvels at the temerity of the brave bootblacks, whose courage deserved a better fate.
The Lexow Committee in their Report put it on record as their deliberate conclusion that—