Theodore Roosevelt: an Autobiography — Ch 06-The New York Police, pt 2

Now I think that any decent man of reasonable intelligence will agree that we were quite right in promoting men in cases like these, and quite right in excluding politics from promotions.

Yet it was because of our consistently acting in this manner, resolutely warring on dishonesty and on that peculiar form of baseness which masquerades as "practical" politics, and steadily refusing to pay heed to any consideration except the good of the service and the city, and the merits of the men themselves, that we drew down upon our heads the bitter and malignant animosity of the bread-and-butter spoils politicians.

They secured the repeal of the Civil Service Law by the State Legislature.

They attempted and almost succeeded in the effort to legislate us out of office.

They joined with the baser portion of the sensational press in every species of foul, indecent falsehood and slander as to what we were doing.

They attempted to seduce or frighten us by every species of intrigue and cajolery, of promise of political reward and threat of political punishment.

They failed in their purpose.

I believe in political organizations, and I believe in practical politics.

If a man is not practical, he is of no use anywhere.

But when politicians treat practical politics as foul politics, and when they turn what ought to be a necessary and useful political organization into a machine run by professional spoilsmen of low morality in their own interest, then it is time to drive the politician from public life, and either to mend or destroy the machine, according as the necessity may determine.

We promoted to roundsman a patrolman, with an already excellent record, for gallantry shown in a fray which resulted in the death of his antagonist.

He was after a gang of toughs who had just waylaid, robbed, and beaten a man.

They scattered and he pursued the ringleader.

Running hard, he gained on his man, whereupon the latter suddenly turned and fired full in his face.

The officer already had his revolver drawn, and the two shots rang out almost together.

The policeman was within a fraction of death, for the bullet from his opponent's pistol went through his helmet and just broke the skin of his head.

His own aim was truer, and the man he was after fell dead, shot through the heart.

I

may explain that I have not the slightest sympathy with any policy which tends to put the policeman at the mercy of a tough, or which deprives him of efficient weapons.

While Police Commissioner we punished any brutality by the police with such immediate severity that all cases of brutality practically came to an end.

No decent citizen had anything to fear from the police during the two years of my service.

But we consistently encouraged the police to prove that the violent criminal who endeavored to molest them or to resist arrest, or to interfere with them in the discharge of their duty, was himself in grave jeopardy; and we had every "gang" broken up and the members punished with whatever severity was necessary.

Of course where possible the officer merely crippled the criminal who was violent.

One of the things that we did while in office was to train the men in the use of the pistol.

A school of pistol practice was established, and the marksmanship of the force was wonderfully improved.

The man in charge of the school was a roundsman, Petty, whom we promoted to sergeant.

He was one of the champion revolver shots of the country, and could hit just about where he aimed.

Twice he was forced to fire at criminals who resisted arrest, and in each case he hit his man in the arm or leg, simply stopping him without danger to his life.

In May, 1896, a number of burglaries occurred far uptown, in the neighborhood of One Hundred and Fifty-sixth Street and Union Avenue.

Two officers were sent out each night to patrol the streets in plain clothes.

About two o'clock on the morning of May 8 they caught a glimpse of two men loitering about a large corner house, and determined to make them explain their actions.

In order to cut off their escape, one officer went down one street and one the other.

The first officer, whose name was Ryan, found the two men at the gateway of the side entrance of the house, and hailed to know what they were doing.

Without answering, they turned and ran toward Prospect Avenue, with Ryan in close pursuit.

After running about one hundred feet, one of them turned and fired three shots at Ryan, but failed to hit him.

The two then separated, and the man who had done the shooting escaped.

The other man, whose name proved to be O'Connor, again took to his heels, with Ryan still after him;

they turned the corner and met the other officer, whose name was Reid, running as hard as he could toward the shooting.

When O'Connor saw himself cut off by Reid, he fired at his new foe, the bullet cutting Reid's overcoat on the left shoulder.

Reid promptly fired in return, his bullet going into O'Connor's neck and causing him to turn a complete somersault.

The two officers then cared for their prisoner until the ambulance arrived, when he was taken to the hospital and pronounced mortally wounded.

His companion was afterward caught, and they turned out to be the very burglars for whom Reid and Ryan had been on the lookout.

In December, 1896, one of our officers was shot.

A row occurred in a restaurant, which ended in two young toughs drawing their revolvers and literally running amuck, shooting two or three men.

A policeman, attracted by the noise, ran up and seized one of them, whereupon the other shot him in the mouth, wounding him badly.

Nevertheless, the officer kept his prisoner and carried him to the station-house.

The tough who had done the shooting ran out and was seized by another officer.

The tough fired at him, the bullet passing through the officer's overcoat, but he was promptly knocked down, disarmed, and brought to the station-house.

In this case neither policeman used his revolver, and each brought in his man, although the latter was armed and resisted arrest, one of the officers taking in his prisoner after having been himself severely wounded.

A lamentable feature of the case was that this same officer was a man who, though capable of great gallantry, was also given to shirking his work, and we were finally obliged to dismiss him from the force, after passing over two or three glaring misdeeds in view of his record for courage.

We promoted another man on account of finding out accidentally that he had performed a notable feat, which he had forborne even to mention, so that his name never came on the roll of honor.

Late at night, while patrolling a lonely part of his post, he came upon three young toughs who had turned highwaymen and were robbing a peddler.

He ran in at once with his night-stick, whereupon the toughs showed fight, and one of them struck at him with a bludgeon, breaking his left hand.

The officer, however, made such good use of his night-stick that he knocked down two of his assailants, whereupon the third ran away, and he brought both of his prisoners to the station-house.

Then he went round to the hospital, had his broken hand set in plaster, and actually reported for duty at the next tour, without losing one hour.

He was a quiet fellow, with a record free from complaints, and we made him roundsman.

The mounted squad have, of course, many opportunities to distinguish themselves in stopping runaways.

In May, 1895, a mounted policeman named Heyer succeeded in stopping a runaway at Kingsbridge under rather noteworthy circumstances.

Two men were driving in a buggy, when the horse stumbled, and in recovering himself broke the head-stall, so that the bridle fell off.

The horse was a spirited trotter, and at once ran away at full speed.

Heyer saw the occurrence, and followed at a run.

When he got alongside the runaway he seized him by the forelock, guided him dexterously over the bridge, preventing him from running into the numerous wagons that were on the road, and finally forced him up a hill and into a wagon-shed.

Three months later this same officer saved a man from drowning.

The members of the bicycle squad, which was established shortly after we took office, soon grew to show not only extraordinary proficiency on the wheel, but extraordinary daring.

They frequently stopped runaways, wheeling alongside of them, and grasping the horses while going at full speed; and, what was even more remarkable, they managed not only to overtake but to jump into the vehicle and capture, on two or three different occasions, men who were guilty of reckless driving, and who fought violently in resisting arrest.

They were picked men, being young and active, and any feat of daring which could be accomplished on the wheel they were certain to accomplish.

Three of the best riders of the bicycle squad, whose names and records happen to occur to me, were men of the three ethnic strains most strongly represented in the New York police force, being respectively of native American, German, and Irish parentage.

The German was a man of enormous power, and he was able to stop each of the many runaways he tackled without losing his wheel.

Choosing his time, he would get alongside the horse and seize the bit in his left hand, keeping his right on the crossbar of the wheel.

By degrees he then got the animal under control.

He never failed to stop it, and he never lost his wheel.

He also never failed to overtake any "scorcher," although many of these were professional riders who deliberately violated the law to see if they could not get away from him; for the wheelmen soon get to know the officers whose beats they cross.

The Yankee, though a tall, powerful man and a very good rider, scarcely came up to the German in either respect; he possessed exceptional ability, however, as well as exceptional nerve and coolness, and he also won his promotion.

He stopped about as many runaways; but when the horse was really panic-stricken he usually had to turn his wheel loose, getting a firm grip on the horse's reins and then kicking his wheel so that it would fall out of the way of injury from the wagon.

On one occasion he had a fight with a drunken and reckless driver who was urging to top speed a spirited horse.

He first got hold of the horse, whereupon the driver lashed both him and the beast, and the animal, already mad with terror, could not be stopped.

The officer had of course kicked away his wheel at the beginning, and after being dragged along for some distance he let go the beast and made a grab at the wagon.

The driver hit him with his whip, but he managed to get in, and after a vigorous tussle overcame his man, and disposed of him by getting him down and sitting on him.

This left his hands free for the reins.

By degrees he got the horse under control, and drove the wagon round to the station-house, still sitting on his victim.

"I jounced up and down on him to keep him quiet when he turned ugly," he remarked to me parenthetically.

Having disposed of the wagon, he took the man round to the court, and on the way the prisoner suddenly sprang on him and tried to throttle him.

Convinced at last that patience had ceased to be a virtue, he quieted his assailant with a smash on the head that took all the fight out of him until he was brought before the judge and fined.

Like the other "bicycle cops," this officer made a number of arrests of criminals, such as thieves, highwaymen, and the like, in addition to his natural prey--scorchers, runaways, and reckless drivers.

The third member of the trio, a tall, sinewy man with flaming red hair, which rather added to the terror he inspired in evil-doers, was usually stationed in a tough part of the city, where there was a tendency to crimes of violence, and incidentally an occasional desire to harass wheelmen.

The officer was as good off his wheel as on it, and he speedily established perfect order on his beat, being always willing to "take chances" in getting his man.

He was no respecter of persons, and when it became his duty to arrest a wealthy man for persistently refusing to have his carriage lamps lighted after nightfall, he brought him in with the same indifference that he displayed in arresting a street-corner tough who had thrown a brick at a wheelman.

Occasionally a policeman would perform work which ordinarily comes within the domain of the fireman.

In November, 1896, an officer who had previously saved a man from death by drowning added to his record by saving five persons from burning.

He was at the time asleep, when he was aroused by a fire in a house a few doors away.

Running over the roofs of the adjoining houses until he reached the burning building, he found that on the fourth floor the flames had cut off all exit from an apartment in which there were four women, two of them over fifty, and one of the others with a six-months-old baby.

The officer ran down to the adjoining house, broke open the door of the apartment on the same floor--the fourth--and crept out on the coping, less than three inches wide, that ran from one house to the other.

Being a large and very powerful and active man, he managed to keep hold of the casing of the window with one hand, and with the other to reach to the window of the apartment where the women and child were.

The firemen appeared, and stretched a net underneath.

The crowd that was looking on suddenly became motionless and silent.

Then, one by one, he drew the women out of their window, and, holding them tight against the wall, passed them into the other window.

The exertion in such an attitude was great, and he strained himself badly; but he possessed a practical mind, and as soon as the women were saved he began a prompt investigation of the cause of the fire, and arrested two men whose carelessness, as was afterward proved, caused it.

Now and then a man, though a brave man, proved to be slack or stupid or vicious, and we could make nothing out of him; but hardihood and courage were qualities upon which we insisted and which we rewarded.

Whenever I see the police force attacked and vilified, I always remember my association with it.

The cases I have given above are merely instances chosen almost at random among hundreds of others.

Men such as those I have mentioned have the right stuff in them!

If they go wrong, the trouble is with the system, and therefore with us, the citizens, for permitting the system to go unchanged.

The conditions of New York life are such as to make the police problem therein more difficult than in any other of the world's great capitals.

I am often asked if policemen are honest.

I believe that the great majority of them want to be honest and will be honest whenever they are given the chance.

The New York police force is a body thoroughly representative of the great city itself.

As I have said above, the predominant ethnic strains in it are, first, the men of Irish birth or parentage, and, following these, the native Americans, usually from the country districts, and the men of German birth or parentage.

There are also Jews, Scandinavians, Italians, Slavs, and men of other nationalities.

All soon become welded into one body.

They are physically a fine lot.

Moreover, their instincts are right; they are game, they are alert and self-reliant, they prefer to act squarely if they are allowed so to act.

All that they need is to be given the chance to prove themselves honest, brave, and self-respecting.

The law at present is much better than in our day, so far as governing the force is concerned.

There is now a single Commissioner, and the Mayor has complete power over him.

The Mayor, through his Commissioner, now has power to keep the police force on a good level of conduct if with resolution and common sense he insists on absolute honesty within the force and at the same time heartily supports it against the criminal classes.

To weaken the force in its dealings with gangs and toughs and criminals generally is as damaging as to permit dishonesty, and, moreover, works towards dishonesty.

But while under the present law very much improvement can be worked, there is need of change of the law which will make the Police Commissioner a permanent, non-partisan official, holding office so long as he proves thoroughly fit for the job, completely independent of the politicians and privileged interests, and with complete power over the force.

This means that there must be the right law, and the right public opinion back of the law.

The many-sided ethnic character of the force now and then gives rise to, or affords opportunity for, queer happenings.

Occasionally it enables one to meet emergencies in the best possible fashion.

While I was Police Commissioner an anti-Semitic preacher from Berlin, Rector Ahlwardt, came over to New York to preach a crusade against the Jews.

Many of the New York Jews were much excited and asked me to prevent him from speaking and not to give him police protection.

This, I told them, was impossible; and if possible would have been undesirable because it would have made him a martyr.

The proper thing to do was to make him ridiculous.

Accordingly I detailed for his protection a Jew sergeant and a score or two of Jew policemen.

He made his harangue against the Jews under the active protection of some forty policemen, every one of them a Jew!

It was the most effective possible answer; and incidentally it was an object-lesson to our people, whose greatest need it is to learn that there must be no division by class hatred, whether this hatred be that of creed against creed, nationality against nationality, section against section, or men of one social or industrial condition against men of another social and industrial condition.

We must ever judge each individual on his own conduct and merits, and not on his membership in any class, whether that class be based on theological, social, or industrial considerations.

Among my political opponents when I was Police Commissioner was the head of a very influential local Democratic organization.

He was a State Senator usually known as Big Tim Sullivan.

Big Tim represented the morals of another era; that is, his principles and actions were very much those of a Norman noble in the years immediately succeeding the Battle of Hastings.

(This will seem flattery only to those who are not acquainted with the real histories and antecedents of the Norman nobles of the epoch in question.

) His application of these eleventh-century theories to our nineteenth-century municipal democratic conditions brought him into sharp contact with me, and with one of my right-hand men in the Department, Inspector John McCullough.

Under the old dispensation this would have meant that his friends and kinsfolk were under the ban.

Now it happened that in the Department at that time there was a nephew or cousin of his, Jerry D. Sullivan.

I found that Jerry was an uncommonly good man, a conscientious, capable officer, and I promoted him.

I do not know whether Jerry or Jerry's cousin (Senator Sullivan) was more astonished.

The Senator called upon me to express what I am sure was a very genuine feeling of appreciation.

Poor Jerry died, I think of consumption, a year or two after I left the Department.

He was promoted again after I left, and he then showed that he possessed the very rare quality of gratitude, for he sent me a telegram dated January 15, 1898, running as follows: "Was made sergeant to-day.

I thank you for all in my first advancement."

And in a letter written to me he said: "In the future, as in the past, I will endeavor at all times to perform my duty honestly and fearlessly, and never cause you to feel that you were mistaken in me, so that you will be justly proud of my record."

The Senator, though politically opposed to me, always kept a feeling of friendship for me after this incident.

He served in Congress while I was President.

The police can be used to help all kinds of good purposes.

When I was Police Commissioner much difficulty had been encountered in locating illegal and fraudulent practitioners of medicine.

Dr. Maurice Lewi called on me, with a letter from James Russell Parsons, the Secretary of the Board of Regents at Albany, and asked me if I could not help.

After questioning him I found that the local authorities were eager to prosecute these men, but could not locate them; and I made up my mind I would try my hand at it.

Accordingly, a sealed order was sent to the commanding officer of each police precinct in New York, not to be opened until just before the morning roll call, previous to the police squad going on duty.

This order required that, immediately upon reaching post, each patrolman should go over his beat and enter upon a sheet of paper, provided for that purpose, the full name and address of every doctor sign there appearing.

Immediately upon securing this information, the patrolman was instructed to return the sheet to the officer in charge of the precinct.

The latter in turn was instructed to collect and place in one large envelope and to return to Police Headquarters all the data thus received.

As a result of this procedure, within two hours the prosecuting officials of the city of New York were in possession of the name and address of every person in New York who announced himself as a physician; and scores of pretended physicians were brought to book or driven from the city.

One of the perennially serious and difficult problems, and one of the chief reasons for police blackmail and corruption, is to be found in the excise situation in New York.

When I was Police Commissioner, New York was a city with twelve or fifteen thousand saloons, with a State law which said they should be closed on Sundays, and with a local sentiment which put a premium on violating the law by making Sunday the most profitable day in the week to the saloon-keeper who was willing to take chances.

It was this willingness to take chances that furnished to the corrupt politician and the corrupt police officer their opportunities.

There was in New York City a strong sentiment in favor of honesty in politics; there was also a strong sentiment in favor of opening the saloons on Sundays; and, finally, there was a strong sentiment in favor of keeping the saloons closed on Sunday.

Unfortunately, many of the men who favored honest government nevertheless preferred keeping the saloons open to having honest government; and many others among the men who favored honest government put it second to keeping the saloons closed.

Moreover, among the people who wished the law obeyed and the saloons closed there were plenty who objected strongly to every step necessary to accomplish the result, although they also insisted that the result should be accomplished.