The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-01-24
THE DIVESOFNEK YORK CITY
a Look Into the Understratum of Social
Vice in the Metropolis.
The Shuddering Vestibule of Hell-Story OF
the Wreck Of q Noble Life and Genius
by Reason Of Fallen Daughter.
Written for the journal by Kenward Philip.

Written for the Journal by Kenward Philip.
AS with everything else in that vast mass OF
splendor and filth, poverty. virtue, art, beauty,
rice, wealth, disease, hurrying work and sudden
death, snowy ostentation. refinement, ofgotry,
learning and bad sewage that we call New York,
there are strata on which the dives are differ
entity planted Incomparably the lowest are the
cheap nosome dens of Chatham street and the
Bowery, of which something has already been
said. These, perhaps, bad as they are, are not
so vicious as the passes plastioues. or the in
famous cider cellars Of the Strand in london,
because their palpable coarseness repels any
who have still lingering virtue to be corrupted
Nor have we in New York any theater behind
whose scenes. as l have personally witnessed
with the same capital, q swell can secure the
privilege of hobnobbirg with the ballet and sit
ting between the acts with an actress" on his
knee, by the payment of the price of few bot
ties of wine
But the middle-class dives" of Sixth avenue,
of Greene street, Wooster street, Prince street.
and here and there up Broadway, though these
are growing fewer year by year. are bad enough
in all cases. Up to very recently these dives
were protected both by the police and the poll
3icians. In some cases, and especially in one no.
torious case, special managers used their infu-
ence in their behalf. Very rarely could the own
ers of the dives be brought to justice should any
crime be committed in their houses, for bail was
always ready the moment after arrest and the in
Aictment was always pigeon holed the moment
after it was found It must always be remem-
har hot fho tod IN
these middle-class dives were of thoroughly
gentlemanly character. No vulgar smashing of
noses or kicking in of heads. The pistol was the
arbiter of all quarrels. and we'll remember that
twenty years ago scarcely Saturday night
passed without witnessing bloody tragedy In
one of the Greene-street dives. Perhaps the
leading place of it's kind in that thoroughfare,
which has acquired an infamous reputation by
reason that every alternate house in the street
would properly come under the statutory
description of "a disorderly house." was pre-
sided over by a notorious person known as
Laura. Just before the war. during the war, and
after the war. up to 1870. Laura's fourished. It's
prestige has departed now. and indeed "Icha-
bod" is written on the portals of nearly all the
tenements Of Greene street Inside the Greene,
and Wooster, and Blocker street lines it must be
owned that, as a rule, things are much more rep
utable-lookiug than the exterior would appear to
warrant There is bar, of course, and the
poor, painted creatures, with uanaturally red
lips and unnaturally bright eyes, patronize it as
often as they can, for sarsaparilla is not the
drink here. but genuine liquor, bad as 1t may be.
The upstairs part of the house Is we'll furnished
for "Lauras" customers, and those of her kind
ere such as frequently have fve-doliar note to
spend on bottle of cider. During the ''shang-
hal" days of the war thousands of dollars were
spent in single evenings in each of these places,
and when they were not spent they were simply
stolen from the hapless guest by means OF the
''panel game an industry now happily almost
obsolete. In the latter case the victim has
been known to be put in the street
Ia his shirt and trousers only. and hidden to go
home. or he would be shot. Should the visitor
be either countryman or an influential city
man, ne dare say nothing In case which re-
ported years ago the victim had the courage to
appeal to the captain of the police The latter
laughed and said he would look into it. He
probably did, but the victim heard no more of
the matter all the same. This panel game is
now confined chiefly to the little dens of Canal
street. where the unsuspecting passer-by is lured
into the dive oy means of bogus cisar-boxes and
red curtains. and Crosby and other by-streetS,
where women Of the most repuisive sort are on
exhibition behind the screen.
In ell these places in the second and third de-
grees of dive vice, perhaps the most utterly
wretched and abandoned creature among their
inmates IreQu6ntSfS
tho piano. He is unknown in the upper sphere
of dive-Efe for which will be stated anon;
but IN the underground palaces" and the sec
ond-foor ''homes' he is necessity For him
there is not word to be said. AS a rule. he is
a drunken, dirty follow, who has sunk lower and
lower by degrees, prostitu.ing noble faculty
for there must be some music in the
soul of even a dive pianist-to the most
infamous of purposes. The girls treat him pretty
much as the Sultana may be supposed to treat
hruln Ac han IN fha ,sth
q mild contempt, qualified by little feminine
condolences about each other and about articles
OF dress. The men who visit treat him as
appendage of the place, sometimes asking him to
drink. but more often making him the butt of
their coarse humor; occasionally he comes in for
q thyashing, which he utterly undeserves being
in all cases pretty small specimen of human
beng-sycophantic, inoffensive All these fell
lows have not q knowledge Of music. but most
OF them have, and have 'seen better days
They could not we'll sea worse on this side of the
grave
One case, however, Of an entirely different
character came to my knowledge some years
ago. 1t was that of an elderly man who had in
earlier life been the organist of the most fash
sonable church in the metro polls. He had COM
posed mass, many songs, TIE Deum, and had
lucrative connection as teacher of the piano
forte. This mans face was singularly sweet,
mild and gentle AT fifty years of age, in the
zenith of his success Miiais could not have
painted, Hugo could not have described a head
freer from the grosser influences of life.
more clearly typical of the noble and benev-
client study of his art, than his He was Wild
over, with one daughter. The daughter
upon whom he had lavished every
kindness, forsook her home to lead a
brief life of infamy. He never saw her after
For weeks his purse was emptied day by day
into the pockets of detectives. into the adver
tisement columns OF the newspapers. upon this
and that false clew. Then he began to drink.
AS he said himself, his life had ended. On Sun
day mornings. when in quest of the national
cocktail at favorite haunt of mine, | used to
see him drink ravenously up to the very mo-
nient when he was needed at the church, hard
by. He rarely spoke to anybody-never, but
once and then to me) of the great grief that
was wrecking him. On some Sunday mornings
about this time, he would, when seated at the
organ, produce such wonderful combinations in
has voluntaries before the service that the mem
bers of the choir seemed in awe of him. At
other times he Xould nlaY the mnst fartastic