Jury Duty

By Rachel Dworkin, archivist

This past week, I was summoned for jury duty. These days, a lot of Americans would prefer to avoid it, but, historically, people have fought hard for the right to sit on a jury.

These days in New York State, potential jurors are drawn from lists of registered voters, local property tax payers, licensed drivers, and persons applying for public assistance.  Once a pool of potential jurors has been summoned, the lawyers for both sides work together to select either six or 12 jurors (depending on the type of trial) and up to two alternates to hear the case. The attorneys interview potential jurors to select those which they think might be open to their case while excluding those they fear will not be. In an article entitled “How I Pick Out Men for a Jury” written for The American magazine in 1919, Elmira attorney John B. Stanchfield explained his process:

In selecting a jury, for example, the law plays practically no part. It is understanding of human beings that counts. For this reason, I study your face, your tone of voice, the answers you make and, especially, whether or not you look me in the eye when speaking. I make a point to find out whether you are well-to-do, or perhaps a clerk at a store. In addition, I always want to know the occupation of a prospective juror’s children, as well as the occupation of the juror himself. I ask your age, religion, and many other things because they all aid me, as the prosecutor or the lawyer for the defense, to make up my mind whether or not I want you for the jury.

Ideally, Stanchfield wrote, a jury should comprise of four strong men and eight intelligent and resolute ones. A juror who could empathize strongly with the defendant due to similarities in profession, class, religion, race, age, or club association, would be unlikely to convict, while someone from a different background might be more likely to return a guilty verdict. It was true back in 1919 and it is still true today. That’s a big part of why so many people have fought so hard to ensure that women and minorities can participate on juries.

John B. Stanchfield, attorney

 The Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments to the U.S. Constitution abolished slavery and guaranteed citizenship and basic civil rights to African Americans. The Civil Rights Act of 1875 explicitly extended those rights to include participation on juries, among other things. In 1883, the Civil Rights Act of 1875 was overturned by the Supreme Court, opening the door for states to find ways of excluding Blacks from jury participation. This was especially the case in the South. In 1935, the Supreme Court reversed course in Norris v. Alabama (1935), declaring that the State could not systematically exclude Blacks from jury service. Individual lawyers could continue to attempt to dismiss potential jurors based on race until Batson v. Kentucky (1985), when the court ruled that a State violates a defendant’s right to equal protection in a trial where members of their own race have been purposely excluded from the jury. Despite the ruling, the problem of racial exclusion persists.

In Chemung County, only two Blacks were summoned as prospective jurors between 1875 and 1900. Richard Johnson, a Black man living on East Clinton Street, was summoned for a case in January 1899. He worked as a laborer and had not been following the news of the case in the paper, despite living in the same neighborhood as the victim. Attorney John B. Stanchfield argued that he was unqualified to serve and had him dismissed. It was not until well after 1935 that a Black man was selected to sit on a jury in Chemung County. 

Chemung County courtroom, 1896

 Women were also long excluded from juries. In 1870, the Chief Justice of Wyoming Territory began the practice of mixed-gender juries, but his successor in 1871 terminated the practice. In 1883, Washington Territory granted women the right to serve on juries, but subsequently rescinded it in 1887. Utah became the first state, in 1898, to grant women the right to sit on juries. After New York women won the right to vote in 1917, a group of four women who had recently registered to vote became the first women to sit on a jury in this state in a case in Sidney in January 1918. The problem was, New York State law specified that only men could serve as jurors. It wasn’t until 1927, after repeated attempts to amend the law, that New York officially allowed for female jurors, but service for women did not become mandatory until 1930s.

In 1935, The Star-Gazette interviewed local women about their thoughts on compulsory jury duty for women. Dean Frances M. Burlingame of Elmira College was all in favor as she didn’t “see any essential difference between the citizenship of men and women” and therefore believed women should have the same duties as men. Others were somewhat less enthusiastic about the prospect of serving, but agreed it was important.  Mrs. George Diven, president of the Chemung County Republican Women’s Club, disapproved of the entire jury system, but did not say what she would replace it with.

Mississippi became the last state to make women eligible for jury duty in 1968. As late as 1979, some states continued to require women to opt-in to serve until the Supreme Court declared it unconstitutional. In 1994, the court ruled that a jury where members were excluded based on gender was a violation of the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.

I didn't end up on a jury this time, but I'm still glad I at least have the right to serve.

           

Breaking the Law on Two Wheels

by Erin Doane, Curator

In 1900, Elmira police made 1,438 arrests. The top three criminal offenses for which people were arrested were intoxication, vagrancy, and violating bicycle ordinance. 107 people were arrested for violating bicycle ordinances. That’s almost 7 percent of all arrests in the city that year. 1900 was the first and only time that bicycle-related criminal activities broke into the top three. So, why was that?

A bicycle gang? No, just the Kanawehola Bicycle Club at Fitch's Bridge in the 1890s.

The years around the turn of the 20^th century are seen as the golden age of bicycling. The earliest bicycles first appeared in the early 19^th century but bicycling as a craze really takes off after the invention of the safety bicycle in the 1880s. The safety bicycle was an alternative to the penny-farthing which had one giant front wheel and a smaller rear wheel. The safety bicycle was, as its name implies, safer, so more people took up riding as a hobby and as a means of transportation.

Penny-farthing bicycle

"Elmira" model D lady's bicycle made by the Elmira Clipper Chilled Plow Company, c. 1890s

By the 1890s, the city of Elmira had detailed bicycle ordinances in place regulating where and when cyclists could ride their vehicles. Rules that kept cyclists from riding on sidewalks without permits or riding at night without lanterns were made for the sake of public safety. Bicycling can be a dangerous activity for both riders and those who happen to get in their way. On July 17, 1897, the Elmira Star-Gazette reported on two wheelmen, as cyclists were also called, colliding with each other at 10 o’clock at night while riding on the cinder path in front of the table factory in Elmira Heights. One of the men suffered from a fractured cheekbone and a blackened eye while the other was knocked unconscious. Neither bicycle had a lamp.

Brass bicycle lamp

Many of the complaints about bicyclists came from residents in the vicinity of Eldridge Park. The park was a very popular destination for cyclists. It was in the evenings at the end of a concert or play that had been held in the park that problems arose. Cyclists would speed away on the sidewalks, weaving through pedestrians as they went. Several accidents were reported in which pedestrians were run down. People also complained that cyclists used the roads surrounding the park as race courses for their own entertainment.

Pedestrians and bicyclists in Eldridge Park, 1890s

In 1899, the city began to crack down on those violating the ordinances. In July, two Elmira police officers, H.B. Murray and F.A. Gitchell, were tasked with helping with the crack-down. They were assigned bicycles of their own and, being good riders, were easily able to run down all guilty parties. Within just two days the pair arrested seven people for riding on the sidewalk without either permits or lamps. Those arrested were brought to city hall. They were not held in jail but their wheels were kept as security. After appearing before the city Recorder the next day, they paid the $1 fine and their bicycles were returned to them. It’s interesting to note that a bicycle license, which would have kept the riders from being arrested in the first place, cost $1, the same amount as the fine.

Elmira Star-Gazette, July 13, 1899

In October, 1899, the city’s common council passed a new set of bicycle ordinances. They appear to be only slightly different from the previous ordinances. Cyclists were prohibited from riding on sidewalks unless the street was not paved or macadamized. In that case, they would need to purchase sidewalk permits at the cost of 50 cents. Cyclists were required to have lights on their bicycle which could plainly be seen two hundred feet ahead if they were riding between sunset and sunrise. They were also required to carry a bell or whistle to alert pedestrians when they were riding on sidewalks. A bicycling speed limit of 6 miles an hour was also enacted. Any violation of the ordinances was punishable by a fine of not less than five dollars or, in absence of payment, imprisonment in the Chemung County jail for a term not exceeding five days. All money collected from the sales of permits and fines would go toward paving streets in the city. The Kelly-Keefe Co. offered a printed summary of the new ordinances on a neat card that could be picked up at their shoe store on Water Street.

Elmira bicycle permit, 1900

The common council promised strict enforcement of the new bicycle ordinances and they delivered on that promise. The Star-Gazette reported on dozens of arrests for violations from the fall of 1899 through the new year. For some, though, enough was still not being done. Enforcing and strengthening the city’s bicycle ordinances became a pet project of Alderman Eugene Barnes who represented the city’s 11^th Ward. Barnes was an engineer with the Northern Central Railroad who lived on South Main Street. In July 1900, he reported to the common council that a woman bicyclist had run into him and he demanded that a speed limit be set for bicycles. He was told that the ordinances passed some eight months earlier did set a limit and he countered that it had never been enforced. At the next meeting, Barnes introduced a resolution to have the police enforce the bicycle ordinances more strictly. That evening, the police received orders to take all wheelmen into custody who violated the ordinance.

Bicyclist in Eldridge Park posing near the American Girl Statue, 1899

From July 10, when the resolution for stricter enforcement was passed, through August 21, 98 people were arrested on charges of violating the ordinances. Despite all these arrests, some cyclists insisted upon continuously defying the ordinances. Trouble-makers Laverne Allen and Miss Grace Wood appear twice in the local newspaper for their crimes. In April 1900, the pair was arrested at 9 o’clock in the evening for riding on the sidewalks without a lamp. When they appeared before the Recorder the following day, Allen argued that they were not guilty. He said that he thought the sun set at 9 o’clock and that bicyclists were not required to carry lamps until some time after the sun set. The court did not agree with his argument as the sun actually set closer to 8 o’clock and found the pair guilty. Allen paid the fines for both himself and Miss Wood. Three months later, Allen and Wood were arrested again for disobeying the bicycle ordinances. This time, their bicycles were confiscated.

Kanawehola Bicycle Club in front of the Elmira Reformatory, July 4, 1895

The popularity of bicycles started dropping off after 1900. As cars became more popular through the 1910s and 1920s, bicycles became seen more as recreational vehicles and children’s toys. Perhaps that is why reports of arrest for violations of the city’s bicycle ordinances rarely appear in local newspapers after 1914.

A Courtroom Mystery

by Erin Doane, curator

I was recently summoned for jury duty at the Chemung County courthouse. This turned out to be an unexpected opportunity to learn a little more about local history. When I entered the courtroom I saw a familiar face. There was a marble bust sitting in a carved niche behind the witness stand that looked very much like a bust we have at the museum. The courthouse bust was labeled “Hathaway” but I was sure that the one at the museum was listed in the collections database as being of John Arnot, Jr. Fortunately, I was chosen to serve on the jury so I had some more time to study the statue.

Interior of the Chemung County courthouse, Dec. 29, 1896

The bust can be seen in the background on the right.

 I tried to hold the image of the courthouse bust in my mind when I went back to the museum during the lunch recess but I was still unsure if they were indeed the same. On day two of jury duty, I asked if I could take a picture of the bust to compare it to the one here. The court officer kindly allowed me to do so as long as I was quick about it. 

The fuzzy picture I took of the courthouse bust.

Back at the museum, I stood in collections storage before our statue, comparing it to the photo I had taken. Others on staff stood and contemplated the two as well and we decided that they were indeed the same man.

The bust at the museum

So, we had two matching busts but who were they depicting – Hathaway or Arnot? The identity was very quickly cleared up when Kelli, our education coordinator, handed me the biography file of Colonel Samuel G. Hathaway, Jr. Inside was a picture of the bust at the courthouse, some biographical information, and documentation of how and when the museum had received an identical bust. This was the fastest history mystery I’ve seen solved in a while.

I had never heard of Colonel Samuel Gilbert Hathaway, Jr. even though in a 1961 letter historian Clark Wilcox called him “probably one of the most respected men ever to live in Chemung County.” A January 29, 1889 article in The Evening Star praised the colonel’s “stately step, manly form and genial countenance.” In his 1892 book, Our County and Its People, Ausburn Towner described Col. Hathaway as “an exceptional man in physical proportions and mental capacity” and declared that “his many virtues so far outweighed his faults that the latter are forgotten and the former treasured as a heritage that belong not only to the county, but to all mankind.” So, who was this exceptional, respected, stately, manly man?

Image of a young Col. Hathaway published in

March 3, 1940 issue of the Elmira Telegram

Samuel G. Hathaway, Jr. was born January 18, 1810 in Freetown Township, Cortland County, New York. He was the oldest son of General Samuel G. Hathaway and is said to have gained the title of colonel when he served on his father’s staff at age 18. He graduated Union College and began studying law in Cortland before moving to Elmira in 1835. He was admitted to the bar in 1836 and became a well-respected attorney in the city. In 1842 and 1843, Col. Hathaway represented Chemung County in the State Assembly. He was known as the “Democratic war horse of Chemung Valley.”

The Civil War began in April 1861. After more than a year of fighting, President Abraham Lincoln put out a call for 300,000 additional volunteers. Col. Hathaway answered the call by helping to raise ten companies of soldiers to form the 141^st New York Volunteer Infantry. He served as commander of the regiment which was made up of men from Chemung, Schuyler, and Steuben Counties. The 141^st was mustered in for three years of service on September 11, 1862 and mustered out June 8, 1865. In the meantime, the regiment was involved in many engagements including the Siege of Suffolk, the Battle of New Hope Church, the Siege of Atlanta, and Sherman’s March to the Sea. The 141^st lost a total of 249 men in action and from disease including Col. Hathaway.

Col. Samuel G. Hathaway, Jr., 141st New York Inf.
Image from the Library of Congress

On February 12, 1863, the 141^st moved from Miner’s Hill to Arlington Heights, Virginia but Col. Hathaway did not go with them. He resigned his post because of a heart condition and returned to Elmira. On the advice of his physician, Dr. W.C. Way, he moved into his father’s home in Solon, New York to convalesce. His condition did not improve and on April 15, 1864, Col. Samuel G. Hathaway, Jr. died.

Several years earlier, Col. Hathaway’s father, General Hathaway ordered a plaster bust of himself to be made by Edward Chase Clute. Gen. Hathaway was so pleased with Mr. Clute’s work that he ordered a bust of each of his family members. He intended to have the plaster models taken to Italy to have marble busts sculpted from them but the Civil War prevented that from happening. Gen. Hathaway died in 1867 but Miss Elizabeth Hathaway went to Italy sometime later and had the busts made. One may assume that she had two (or more) made of Col. Hathaway.

And I did find out when these two busts ended up at the courthouse and the museum. A November 14, 1884 article in the Elmira Star Gazette reported that the bust of Col. Hathaway would “soon ornament the Chemung county court house.” The museum received our bust in 1992 as a transfer from the Tioga County Historical Society in Owego, New York.

Could there be a third bust of Col. Hathaway out there?

Glass-plate negative by Robert Turner, Jr.

Police Collection

By Rachel Dworkin, Archivist

This past Wednesday, the Elmira Police Department agreed to loan us their entire history collection for use in our upcoming exhibit Crime and Punishment. Their only stipulation was that we catalog it for them since they weren’t entirely sure what was in it. I haven’t had too much time to really dig in, but so far the collection seems to have a whole lot of photographs of department personnel and offices; five years’ worth of correspondence from the 1940s; various handbooks and training manuals; badges and obsolete equipment; and miscellaneous stuff. 

Here are, in no particular order, five of the coolest things I’ve discovered so far.

Department daybooks, 1890s-1900s

Police daybook, 1898

The books include a daily account of which officers were on duty for each shift and anything of note they encountered during the course of their patrols. Reading through, this includes fires, burglaries, prostitutes, drunks, unlocked doors, stray animals, and a burst water pipe among other things.

Riot gear, ca. 1980s

The gear includes a helmet with face shield and a bullet-proof vest.  The vest worn by one of the SWAT officers during the Jones Court shoot out on January 8, 1984 where Sergeant John Hawley was killed.

 

SWAT gear

DARE stuff

There’s a box’s worth of material associated with department’s DARE program including photo albums, scrapbooks, press clippings, and informational brochures.  My favorite part though are the literal slide shows still on their slide carousel with the scripts attached. It’s like a flashback to middle school health class.

Evidence from murder cases

I was really surprised to open a box and find photographs of the autopsies of Police Chief John Finnell and Detective Sergeant Charles Gradwell who were both murdered on March 23, 1915 (see "Elmira's Most Wanted" for details).  The pictures are not for the faint of heart, let me tell you. In another box I also found blood samples and bullet fragments from a 1958 murder case. Here’s hoping they don’t need that for a trial any time soon.

I sure hope no one needs this random bag of evidence.  Be glad I didn't post the autopsy photos.  Yeash!

Retired officers’ questionnaires

Last, but certainly not least, is a binder full of questionnaires filled out by retired officers, most of whom served between 1950 and 2005. In it, officers talk about their training and some of their more memorable moments on the job. Some of their stories are hilarious and some are rather harrowing, but all of them are pretty cool.

Louie Dawes and the Bigamous Dane

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

In early 1892, Louise, or Louie, Dawes of Elmira married John Madsen who was originally from Denmark or Sweden.  Dawes was about 40 years old and she had never previously married. She met her husband through her brother who was an acquaintance of Madsen.  Madsen was new in town and told the family about his 1,600 acre ranch in California and his mansion with 11 rooms. He promised to marry Dawes and then take the whole family to his California estate. 

The pair got married on a Sunday and Madsen borrowed $90 from the family to buy their train tickets west. He left the following letter:

"My dear darling- I will not be back before noon, so wi tak the 1-45 treen, hav every ting retty.

Your Hospon,

Jno."

He didn't come back.

Madsen was arrested in Albany and the police seized money, diamonds, and jewelry.  There it was revealed that his real name was John Anderson, a.k.a. the “bigamous Dane,” who allegedly had twenty or more wives. 

The bigamous Dane

He was brought to trial in Cleveland, OH by a Ellen Purcell, who Andersen married in St. Louis and deserted at the Forest City House on Christmas Day, taking over $1,200 of her money. Dawes and her family made the trip to Cleveland to attend the trial.  In courtroom Dawes came face to face with her former husband and didn’t speak but Andersen’s face turned “ashen white and walked with a nervous step to the prisoner’s dock” The prosecutor painted Anderson as a con artist who took advantage of virtuous women like Purcell and Dawes.  The jury took only 15 minutes to decide he was guilty of bigamy and larceny.

Dawes never married again, but she lived a long and busy life. She was a member of many local clubs and organizations and lived at least into her late 90s.

Dawes at her 96th birthday party.

That Time Grover Cleveland Was Assaulted By An Elmiran

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

When I wrote the blog post about a mob assaulting Governor Theodore Roosevelt on the streets of Elmira, I figured that it was a singular incident.  I was wrong.  In 1884 (16 years before the Roosevelt assault), an Elmira man assaulted then-Governor Grover Cleveland in Albany.  It turns out that while peaceful political disagreement hasn't always been our strong suit, assaulting future presidents has.

On the morning of October 20, 1884, Samuel T. Boom of Elmira hid and waited for Governor Cleveland to make his way to his Executive Chamber in Albany.  When Cleveland made it to the intersection of Lancaster and Eagle Streets, Boom rushed him and attempted to punch the Governor twice.  When Cleveland deflected those blows, Boom went to pick up a paving stone but was stopped by a bystander. At some point in the brawl, Cleveland received a minor cut behind the ear. In the ensuing chaos, Boom ran away to his boarding house, where he was promptly arrested.  According to the press, Cleveland laughed about the attack and the news noted that Boom was "a small, delicate man." 

This sign is talking about a different type of retaliation than what Mr. Boom had planned.

Boom later acknowledged that the attack was a mistake and the complicated back story of the incident emerged.  Allegedly, Mrs. Boom had been seeking a pardon for her imprisoned brother from the Governor and his lack of a response had supposedly exacerbated her preexisting illness to the point that she was near death.  Mrs. Boom had first asked the Governor for a pardon during his visit to Elmira several weeks before the Albany assault. The Booms later went to Albany to follow-up with Cleveland and in a meeting in the Executive Chambers a few days before the assault, Cleveland told the family he hadn't gotten to examine their case yet because of the large number of other requests her received.  He did, however, tell them that the pardon was unlikely to be granted because of the opposition of the District Attorney and the Elmira police.  Boom was enraged and threatened to find out if the Governor was responsible for this and "slap his chops."  A few days after that, Mrs. Boom returned and had to be removed from the Chambers because she was in hysterics.  Mr. Boom thought that the bruises on his wife's arms were made by Cleveland.  Boom began stalking Cleveland, learning the route he took to work, as he plotted his revenge, which led to the assault.

Hat featuring Grover Cleveland on the interior. Worn by a supporter, unlike Boom.

Apparently, the Governor and the Albany police found Boom to be a rather pathetic case, because the papers reported, "The crank who assaulted Gov. Cleveland was discharged without punishment."

The Cereal Beverage and “High-Powered Beer” Scandal

By Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

When 18^th Amendment and national Prohibition went into effect in 1920 (local prohibition went into effect in Elmira in 1918), brewers scrambled to find new ways to stay in business.  Some continued to produce beer illegally, but others found ways to work with the Volstead Act.  Under the new law, only “near beer” containing less than 0.5% alcohol could be produced and sold.  In fact, the law was so strict that this drink couldn’t even be labeled “near beer,” and instead had to be sold as “cereal beverage.”

Trade card for the Chemung Beverage Co.'s cereal beverage.

In May 1927, the Chemung Beverage Company of Elmira received a permit from the federal prohibition enforcement agency to produce cereal beverage for 4 months.  At that time, they were only one of only two breweries in New York State permitted to do so.  As part of the permit agreement, federal prohibition agents were to inspect the brewery regularly to make sure all of the near beer met the Volstead standards. The Chemung Beverage Company moved into the old Briggs Brewery building, which had been abandoned for over a year. Employees cleaned up rust and dust for almost two months to make the space operational. 

Plans for a Chemung Beverage Company building from several months before they were issued a permit. 

The Chemung Beverage Company didn’t stick with the “non-intoxicating beverage” business for long.  At 10pm on August 5, 1927, Federal prohibition investigator F.J. Raymond led a raid on the Chemung Beverage Company and discovered employees loading train cars with “high-powered brew.”  Employees Ed Kennedy, J. Heisler, Frank Schmalesberg, and Benjamin L. Heyman were arrested along with the owner and permit holder, Frank Teitlebaum .  There was an estimated $20,000 worth of beer at plant. 

The former Briggs Brewery building as it looked at the time of the Chemung Beverage raid.

In September, the Chemung Beverage Company officially got its cereal beverage permit revoked.  In November, prohibition agents disposed of the 63,756 gallons (2,024 barrels of high-test beer and 400 barrels of near beer) seized by dumping it into the sewers. The building was padlocked and guarded.

In the fallout, Teitlebaum and the other men involved received hefty fines.  In May of 1928, Roscoe C. Harper, the Prohibition chief for Western New York, and Donald V. Murphy, the Prohibition agent in Elmira, were arrested for conspiracy to violate the National Prohibition Act.  Harper was the person who granted the permit to Chemung Beverage Company a year before.  The corruption and flouting of the Volstead Act continued in the city (as evidenced by the many subsequent raids of other brewers) until Prohibition was repealed in 1933.

That Time Theodore Roosevelt was Assaulted in Elmira

By Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

On October 29, 1900, then New York State Governor Theodore Roosevelt was in Elmira on a stop on his Vice Presidential campaign.  Roosevelt was the running mate of incumbent President William McKinley.  Roosevelt was greeted with a “great political demonstration” in the city, with a parade with nearly 1,000 mounted “Rough Riders.”  People crowded the Lyceum and Tivoli Theaters and several outdoor locations to hear him speak.  The news estimated that 20,000 people were in the city for the campaign activities.  However, this outpouring of support is actually the least interesting part of the story.  The real drama came when Roosevelt was assaulted by a mob in the streets. 

McKinley/Roosevelt campaign button

The 1900 Presidential campaign was between Republican incumbent McKinley and Democratic challenger William Jennings Bryan.  Bryan ran on an anti-imperialism and “Free Silver” platform.  Roosevelt campaigned extensively in an effort to paint Bryan as a radical.  As the election neared, the campaign became more heated.

In addition to his large speaking engagements in Elmira, Roosevelt also had smaller meetings with local supporters and political figures, including John B. Stanchfield, an Elmiran campaigning for Roosevelt’s soon-to-be vacant Governor position. 

John B. Stanchfield

Stanchfield ultimately lost his campaign for Governor

On his way to one of those meetings, Roosevelt was riding in a carriage with former Senator Jacob Sloat Fassett.  At several points along the route he was pelted with rotten eggs, vegetables, and other projectiles by Bryan supporters.  A mob of about 100 people also shouted the “vilest epithets” at him and voiced their support for Bryan.  One “ruffian” was said to shove his fist under the Governor’s nose while another threw a heavy cane that knocked his hat.  Allegedly, Roosevelt sat in silence while police did nothing.  Fassett reported that the mob appeared to be all boys under the age of 17.

J. Sloat Fassett

The Roosevelt campaign club from Corning also clashed with Bryan supporters.  Fighting and rioting broke out around the campaign path, especially near Railroad Avenue.  Multiple injuries were reported and Robert Richards of the Corning Escort Club went to the Corning City Hospital for injured back.  There was an uptick of other crime during Roosevelt’s visit: 14 people had their pockets picked and four men robbed the Queen City Gardens at gun point.

The New York Times dubbed the incidents “The Elmira Disturbance.”  The news compared the fighting to that of the showdowns of the Wild West, except that the Elmira fights were more “prolonged, savage, vindictive, and bloody.”

After arriving at his meeting, Roosevelt spoke of the attacks saying, “It was nasty conduct, the conduct of hoodlums.”  In a speech in Corning the next day, he said, “Now is the time to stamp out Bryanism. The affair at Elmira last night cast shame upon the country where the right of free speech should be observed.”

Mayor Frank H. Flood called a special meeting of the Police Commissioners to investigate the mob assault of Roosevelt.  They gathered evidence and witness accounts.  Among the projectiles recovered were “a large turnip, an old shoe, and a club” taken from Roosevelt’s carriage, which were put on display at the Republican Headquarters.  It is unclear whether any charges were ever filed related to the incident.

 

The “Elmira Disturbance” was just one incident that arose from the heightened pre-election political tension.  Around same time Senator Depew was attacked by Bryan supporters in Cobleskill, NY.  Ultimately, McKinley and Roosevelt won the election (and also carried Chemung County).  However, the Elmira assault was a dark moment in the history of the campaign.  And you thought politics were bad nowadays!

Sue Your Way to Freedom

by Rachel Dworkin, archivist

When the Fugitive Slave Act was signed into law in 1850 it angered many northerners.  The law required that all law enforcement officials throughout the country (even in free states) arrest anyone accused of being a runaway slave and imposed a $1,000 fine (approximately $28,000 in present-day value) for any who refused to do so.  Suspected slaves received no trails and had no recourse for appeals, putting free-born blacks in serious danger of being kidnapped and taken south under false pretenses.  Any civilians who aided escaped slaves could face 6 months in prison and a $1,000 fine.  There was, however, a loophole: it only applied to slaves who entered free states and territories without their masters’ permission. 

On August 11, 1853, Jervis Langdon, Jared Arnold, and their attorney Mr. Woods petitioned the court of behalf of Miss Juda Barber, a 20-year-old slave.  Miss Barber was owned by a Mr. Barber of Missouri and had been lent to a Mr. Warner to act as a lady’s maid for his wife on their trip to Horseheads, New York.  Before they left, she had promised her master that she would return, but once she was here she decided to seek her freedom.  Woods argued that New York was a free state and Miss Barber was being illegally held against her will.  After hearing the case, Judge Arial Thurston, an avowed abolitionist and Underground Railroad supporter, declared her a free woman.  Miss Barber left the courtroom with Sandy Brandt and John Jones and vanished into history.

Jervis Langdon was an abolitionist and financial supporter of the Underground Railroad.  He helped to pay for Miss Barber's lawsuit.

 

Judge Arial Thurston was a personal friend of Underground Railroad conductor John Jones and had sheltered fugitives in his own home.  His ruling in the Barber case was pretty much a foregone conclusion.

 

The interesting thing about the case is that it was neither the first nor the last time a slave transported to a free state sued for freedom.  The last such case was, in fact, the famous Dred Scott v. Sandford heard by the Supreme Court in 1857.  Like Juda Barber, the slave Dred Scott had been transported by his master to a free state and sued for his freedom.  Scott lost his initial case and appealed to the higher court which not only upheld the lower court’s ruling but also held that blacks, whether slave or free, could not be citizens and thus had no right to sue at all.  The ruling was later nullified by the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution which granted citizenship to all persons born or naturalized in the United States.  Today the Dred Scott decision is widely regarded as the worst decision ever made by the Supreme Court. 

Dred Scott unsuccessfully sued for his freedom along with that of his wife and 2 daughters in Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857).  The ruling against him is widely regarded as the worst Supreme Court decision ever. 

 

Gangs and Juvenile Delinquency in Elmira Parks in the Early 20th Century

by Kelli Huggins, Education Coordinator

"Kids these days are so violent/rude/illiterate/destructive/terrible!" “Things were so much better in the past than they are today.” As historians (and just in regular daily life), we hear these statements all the time and, frankly, they drive me crazy.  They’re ahistorical, false, and colored by the romantic and nostalgic idea that there was some bygone “simpler” time.  The story of juvenile delinquency in Elmira’s parks around the turn of the 20^th century helps illustrate the falsehood (or at least the persistence) of the “kids these days” myth.

From about 1906 through the 1910s, the local newspapers were in a tizzy reporting about the youth gangs that used Elmira’s parks as the home base for their illegal behaviors.  Two gangs gained the most notoriety:  the Grove Park Angels and the Eldridge Park Gang.  The Grove Park Angels were primarily ethnically Irish, young school drop-outs who drank and harassed anyone in the park after dark.  In 1909, the city resolved to deal with the Angels because they were receiving increased complaints about their use of profanity, loudness, and attacks on people in the neighborhood.  In one incident, the Angels “insulted two women and whipped their husbands when the latter resented the insult to their wives.” The problem grew so dire that the police department stationed an officer at the park specifically to deal with the gang activity.

It wouldn't have been safe for these "respectable" park-goers to be in Grove Park at night.

Boys in Grove Park around the time the gang was active (although their behavior doesn't look too delinquent).

Police intervention in Grove Park seemed to have some impact on decreasing gang activity.  By 1911, there was a baseball team named the Grove Park Angels, but I’m unsure if there was any affiliation between the gang and the team.  Still, the gang didn’t disappear, and in 1913, the newspapers complained that the gang persisted because their delinquency was being passed down from generation to generation.

The Eldridge Park Gang appears to have been even fiercer than the Grove Park Angels. In 1907, their crimes were reported to “rival those of Dime Novel Desperados” (see, we’ve always blamed pop culture for youth violence!).   In that year, they threw eggs at women, stole from trains, and put gravel on the tracks of Lackawanna Railroad.  In their most daring act, they confiscated a Lackawanna caboose, ransacked it, shot out of windows, and then set it on fire.  In 1912, a 16 year old was arrested for stealing a handcar from the railroad and taking it for a joyride.  The next year, gang members were arrested for throwing stones at the police officer stationed in the park.  The gang was notorious for threatening to throw police “into de lake.”  The gang also attacked an automobile driver, breaking his car’s left lamp. 

In the early 1920s, Elmira came up with a novel idea to help curb juvenile delinquency in the parks: they would use the parks themselves as a force for urban renewal.  The Elmira City Recreation Commission formed on February 26, 1921 and was soon recognized by the National Recreation Association as one of best recreation organizations in the country.  The Commission reclaimed unused or derelict city land for parks: Washington Park was built on an old rolling mill property and dumping ground; Sly Park was formerly a swamp; Eastside playgrounds replaced dilapidated old buildings.  According to the Commission, Elmira had only one public tennis court in 1921, but that number jumped to 21 by 1931.


Mayor George Peck helps build Patch Park in August 1921.



Patch Park was one of the many new parks built in the 1920s.

City recreation programs were created to teach children to be good citizens.  A variety of clubs and sports teams met regularly in the city parks.  The Commission believed that its work was directly responsible for a decrease in rates of juvenile delinquency through the 1920s.  According to the city Recorder, there were 247 cases of juvenile delinquency in 1918, but only 29 in 1928.  He believed that playgrounds were successfully attracting children who would “otherwise go to the streets.”

A play performed by children in a City Recreation program in Grove Park, 1928.

Clearly, the Elmira City Recreation Commission didn’t solve the problem of juvenile delinquency, but its work does illustrate some of the ways that adults can work proactively with kids.  Things change from generation to generation, but in reality, nothing is really ever that different.