Where Bad Boys are Made Good

William Bartell was arrested in 1897 on a charge of “maliciously and willfully” breaking windows and smashing doors. Martin Leddy was arrested in April of that same year, charged with being “disorderly.” According to his mother, he “remains away from home late at night and associates with idle and vicious companions.” In 1902 Thomas O’Shaughnessey, Jr., was charged with vagrancy, having “no visible means of support, lives without employment… and does not give a good account of himself.” He was twelve years old.

Intake record, 1896. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Intake record, 1897. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Intake record, 1898. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Intake record, 1899. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

What was to be done with such hardened criminals? Since they were under fourteen years of age, they were sent to the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys. Located at 18th Avenue between 56th and 58th Streets, this nine-acre estate was previously home to the Villa de Sales Academy, a Catholic boarding school for young ladies. By 1897 it was filled with hundreds of boys, all of them remanded by the court for committing misdemeanors. There the youth were taught military drills and battle hymns. They received practical instruction in a variety of trades, such as printmaking, cobbling, carpentry, and baking. They were given an education, a warm place to sleep, clothing, healthcare, and good food. There was discipline, of course, but it was to be fair and just, managed without corporal punishment. All of this without walls and fences, locks and bars. This was reform for a new era.

Report on Martin Laddie [Leddy], 1897. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

If you read the papers during the school’s tenure, you would be hard-pressed to form a differing opinion. Politicians, businessmen, and journalists extolled the virtues of the institution. The Reverend William Nichols of the Brooklyn Bureau of Charities said of it, “I do not know any school in our community where the boys are better cared for and instructed under better conditions. I thought as I listened to the beautiful music that every one of those boys in that band has a trade with which he may be able to earn his living some day when he leaves this institution.” While Justice Robert J. Wilkin commented, “I never went through a dormitory where the air was so sweet and clean…” And yet, over the course of its thirteen years there were numerous stories of mismanagement, neglect, and violence, as well as reports from multiple city agencies detailing poor conditions and extravagant costs.

Inmate report, 1900. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Brooklyn Disciplinary School for Boys was established by Chapter 235 of the New York State Laws of 1896. It was governed by a Board of Managers chosen by the Mayor of the City of Brooklyn. It was not, however, placed under the jurisdiction of any specific department. This became an ongoing point of contention when Brooklyn became part of Greater New York. The Charter of 1897 did not address the issue and instead let the original law stand as written. While the State Board of Charities had a nominal say in all such institutions, the actual governance was left to the Board of Managers and those they appointed as President and Superintendent of the school. For over a decade, the school was left to its own devices.

Census report of student body, 1900. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Toward the end of the 19th century there were few options for wayward youth. Religious institutions were ill-equipped to act as reformers and even less-equipped to handle the hundreds of children sentenced by the courts for short-term care. Institutions like the House of Refuge were for felony cases and boys who had reached the age of maturity, while the majority of the other public and private charities focused on adult poverty or the care of infants. Thus the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys was born out of a necessity to address the rising number of troubled children convicted of minor offences, without resorting to harsh sentences. The solution to recidivism was to be holistic: discipline, education, instruction, with free time for play and, on occasion, brief visits home with their families. Typically the boys were charged in the Police Court (and post-consolidation, in the Children’s Court) with misdemeanors ranging from vagrancy to petit larceny. Their time at the school could run from a few months to five years or more, depending on the severity of the crime, their behavior, and their home situation—the sentence was entirely determined by the Superintendent and Board of Managers. If the boys received good marks for their military drills or work in the shops, they may be offered parole. If they ran away, no parole or consideration of release would be offered for a full year. Parents or guardians could also secure release if they needed help around the house or for family emergencies by writing directly to the superintendent, though this was often denied.

Unfortunately there were difficulties from the outset. The buildings were in poor condition and required continuous maintenance. In March, 1899 a fire broke out necessitating the removal of some of the students to the Catholic Protectory. In 1900 one of the buildings was condemned, again forcing the school to temporarily remove students to other institutions. As the population rose, at times exceeding 400 boys, the dormitories became overcrowded and the facilities degraded. It seemed that no matter how many improvements were made, there was never enough money to properly fix the problems, and the money that was granted was done so begrudgingly.

Investigator’s Report, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Investigator’s Report, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Then there were the scandals. Typhoid broke out in October of 1900 killing two children, forcing the school to address its consistently appalling sanitary conditions. In 1909 long-time Superintendent James P. Farrell was excoriated in the press and investigated by the Board of Managers for using city funds to pay for imported bacon, grapes, and game. This was followed by an investigation of the use of corporal punishment. Children, parents, and employees came forward to say they had witnessed countless acts of violence. In one instance a witness recalled hearing of a punishment known as the “Star-Spangled Banner,” wherein the child was stripped and beaten with a stick “for the number of stars and stripes on the flag.” There were even rumors that Farrell and house mother Anna Hutchinson were involved in a very tawdry affair. On top of this were the constant escapes. It was not uncommon for 50 or more children to decamp over the course of the year. While most were apprehended, there were always a few who succeeded.

Letter concerning a former inmate who drowned trying to escape from Randall’s Island, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Letter concerning a former inmate who drowned trying to escape from Randall’s Island, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Transcript of an interview reporting corporal punishment at the school, 1907. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

There were also positive aspects. Children were housed and trained together without regard to skin color or nationality. A banking system was instituted in order to teach responsible financial habits. The skills boys learned in the various shops allowed them to find employment upon release and help support their families. At the end of their sentence, an agent was even sent to their homes to make sure that conditions were such that the boy would not turn again to crime. In general, the school appeared invested in the well-being of the children, arranging for medical care or offering recommendations for employment. “I am anxious that the boy should profit by this opportunity, for I consider him deserving, and will look forward to a bright and prosperous future for the lad. It is assumed that you are as good as your word and that you will furnish him with shelter and support.”

Inspector’s report of Home Conditions, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Inspector’s report of Home Conditions, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Inspector’s report of Home Conditions, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Inspector’s report of Home Conditions, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Inspector’s report of Home Conditions, 1910. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Letter from parent requesting her son’s discharge, 1908. Records of the Brooklyn Disciplinary Training School for Boys, NYC Municipal Archives.

Calls to close the school grew steadily after 1910. Due to the lack of oversight, the rising costs, and the need the replace much of the infrastructure, many politicians had decided the school had run its course. There was talk of purchasing land on Long Island to recreate the school on the “cottage plan,” wherein the boys would be placed in smaller houses instead of dormitories. A report by the Commissioner of Accounts in 1913 all but ended that chance. Instead a new State Disciplinary School was proposed. The plan called for a merger with the House of Refuge and the creation of a new, conglomerate institution in Yorktown Heights, Westchester County. That plan was eventually abandoned after residents fought to keep the facility out of their community and it wasn’t until 1932 that a new school was finally established further upstate in the town of Warwick.

The Disciplinary Training School for Boys officially closed its doors on September 1, 1914. Its tenure may have been brief, but the records tell a compelling story of a unique institution existing at the cross-roads of a new century. From intake files to correspondence, bills of lading to financial reports, it is apparent that the school had a hand in almost every facet of the city and borough of Brooklyn, as well as the larger conversation of youth reform.

The “Missing” Common Council Records of the Revolutionary War

The New York City Municipal Archives has an almost unbroken[1] set of records depicting City governance from 1653, when the city of New Amsterdam first received its charter, until 2013 when Mayor Michael Bloomberg left office. The one notable gap is from May 24, 1776 until February 10, 1784. These eight years, of course, cover an important time period because, on July 2nd, 1776 the Continental Congress declared independence from the British and the British fleet arrived in New York shortly thereafter. Researchers often wonder: “Where are the records of New York City government during the Revolutionary War? Were they destroyed?” Well the short answer is, there was no city government.

The Mayors and the Gay Pride Parade

Everyone loves a parade. Especially New York City mayors. Usually front and center—mayors march on every occasion—Veterans Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Columbus Day, Steuben Day, Puerto Rican Day, Norwegian Day (yes, in case you missed it, the 2019 Norwegian Day parade stepped off in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, on May 19).

And this year, Mayor Bill de Blasio will join an estimated 150,000 marchers when New York City hosts WorldPride and the 50th anniversary of the uprising at the Stonewall Inn which galvanized the modern gay rights movement. In the blog this week we highlight photographs depicting New York City mayors marching in the annual Gay Pride parades.

NYPD Surveillance of Lesbian and Gay Power

The Stonewall Riots that took place in the West Village at the end of June, 1969 mark the beginning of a movement for the basic visibility and full equality of all Americans regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity. The early morning raid on the Stonewall Inn was nothing new in itself, as the NYPD had been raiding and shutting down similar bars throughout the 1960s. Lesbian and gay New Yorkers had been increasingly responding to police harassment with acts of civil disobedience and activist journalism during the 1960s, but the scope of resistance at Stonewall was different. Another thing that was certainly different about Stonewall, though, was how it changed the NYPD’s views on gay and lesbian power in the City, as evidenced by their moving image surveillance logs. Before Stonewall, there is no mention in the NYPD records of film surveillance activities of groups agitating for gay, lesbian and transgender rights. After Stonewall, the NYPD began to identify not a specific group or individual activists for surveillance, but a broad movement that had begun to take hold: Gay Liberation.

Central Park: A Musical Destination for all New Yorkers

The blog this week highlights the long tradition of music concerts in Central Park. It is adapted from our new book, “The Central Park: Original Designs for New York’s Greatest Treasure.”

Alterations to Music Pavilion, mason’s and carpenter’s contract, 1886. Black and colored inks with colored washes on paper backed with linen, 23¾ x 34¾". Department of Parks Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The vividly colored Music Pavilion was originally constructed in 1862 and was moved to several different locations on the Mall during its lifetime. Jacob Wrey Mould prepared this drawing for alterations to the structure in 1886.

New Yorkers have enjoyed musical performances in Central Park from its earliest days. Park planners Calvert Vaux and Frederick Law Olmsted believed that their urban oasis should provide not only “healthful recreation,” but also serve as a cultural destination for the appreciation of art and beauty. In 1859, an estimated five thousand people delighted in the first formal concert at a temporary bandstand built in the newly-opened Ramble.

Temporary winter covering for the Music Pavilion, carpenter’s and ironmonger’s contract, 1869. Black ink with colored washes on paper backed with linen, 19½ x 21". Department of Parks Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

As crowds grew larger, Vaux and Olmsted decided that the west side of the Mall, near the Bethesda Terrace, would be the ideal spot for a permanent structure. As they explained to the Board of Commissioners of the Central Park: “This site is recommended because it is conspicuous without being obtrusive, and is easy to access from the promenade [later known as the Mall] and from one of the leading avenue entrances; while, to the north, it commands from its terraces and verandas the finest views that are to be obtained in the lower part of the park.”

By 1862, the overwhelming popularity of free concerts in the park prompted the Board of Commissioners to approve building a permanent Music Pavilion to be located at the north end of the mall. Architect Jacob Wrey Mould’s Moorish-influenced cast-iron and wood bandstand, with six slender red columns that carried a bright blue cupola decorated with gilt stars, is still considered one of his park masterpieces.

Study for a floating music pavilion on the Lake, c. 1861. Black ink and pencil with colored washes on paper backed with linen, 17½ x 18½". Department of Parks Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

These detail maps show the pavilion’s positions on the Lake during a concert and when not in use; the central panel lifts up to reveal a second seating arrangement for a larger orchestra.

Before the Music Pavilion was built, Olmsted had toyed with a much different location. In 1861, he wrote to Central Park Board Commissioner Andrew Haswell Green suggesting that a bandstand floating on the Lake might be the best place to feature orchestras and bands during the concert season. Always fearful that large crowds of any size would trample and ruin the grass, Olmsted also believed that acoustics on the Lake would carry the music to listeners scattered around its shores, including on the Terrace, where chairs could be placed. The structure could be movable and would offer seating arrangements for both large and small groups of musicians. In the end, it was Mould’s Music Pavilion that was built, but occasionally a ten-man cornet band would give afternoon concerts from a boat on the water.

Here the Music Pavilion can be seen in its original location at the north end of the mall just behind a small decorative fountain that lead toward to the Terrace. The Pavilion would later be moved further the south and the fountain would be removed altogether. Department of Parks Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Large crowds gather to enjoy a concert in the park, c. 1910. The bench seating was designed by Calvert Vaux especially for concert-goers around the Music Pavilion. Photo by A. Tennyson Beals, NYC Municipal Archives Collection.

Design for modification of the area in the vicinity of the Music Stand on the Mall, c. 1865. Black and colored inks with colored washes on paper backed with linen, 28 ½ x 21 1/4." Department of Parks Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In this drawing prepared by Calvert Vaux, we can see the Music Pavilion located along the western side of the mall. In 1884, a statue of Ludwig Van Beethoven was installed near this location of the Pavilion where it still stands today.

In 1921, Elkan Naumburg, a retired banker and music lover, offered the city $100,000 to replace the acoustically outdated Mould Pavilion. Naumburg’s nephew William Tachau designed the new venue in a neoclassical style. It was constructed with cream-colored Indiana limestone with side staircases and a coffered and gilded half-domed ceiling. Dedicated in 1923 and described as a “Temple of Music,” the Naumburg Bandshell is one of the few examples of the City Beautiful architectural style in the park. It is nestled into a hillside near the Mall and Pergola and has hosted everything from orchestral performances and big band era dances to a rousing speech by Martin Luther King Jr.

In addition to the Music Pavilion and the Bandstand, in more recent years the Great Lawn and the Sheep Meadow have served as open-air venues for concerts on a much grander scale. Ranging from Barbra Streisand in 1967 and Elton John in 1980 to the massive crowds that flood through the gates to see the annual concert given by the New York Philharmonic each year, the park has been filled with music to the delight of all New Yorkers for over 160 years.

Harvest dance contest at Naumburg Bandshell, September 1942. NYC Municipal Archives Collection.

Music remained a popular attraction in the park even after the removal of Mould’s Music Pavilion. The Naumburg Bandshell, designed by William Tachau, replaced it in 1923 and is still in use today.

These illustrations, and more than 250 others, such as the original winning competition entry submitted by Olmsted and Vaux, meticulously detailed plans and elevations of many of the architectural features of the park, as well as intricate engineering drawings are included in “The Central Park: Original Designs for New York’s Greatest Treasure.” It is available at bookstores throughout the city and through on-line retailers.

Mayor Edward Koch walking through the crowds while waiting for the start of the annual concert given by the New York Philharmonic in Central Park, August 8, 1983. Mayor Edward I. Koch Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Philharmonic’s concert in 1986 had an estimated attendance of 800,000 people, one of the largest gatherings for a musical event in the history of the park.

Form 51

Begun under Mayor William O’Dwyer, the Mayor’s Committee on Management Survey was a sprawling three-year labor that culminated in a hefty, two-volume final report with a slew of recommendations for sweeping changes to various agencies and offices of the government. The Committee ultimately presented eleven major findings, and twelve management recommendations, and many four-, five-, and six-point plans with their own numbered lists of justifying principles and inescapable underlying forces. Whether its primary purpose, “the securing of good management, which will bring in its wake those economies arising from the best use of men, materials, and time in getting the work of the City government done,” was in fact accomplished, is a topic for further research. What’s clear is that City government needed some kind of diagnostic.