Part 9
My name is William J. Elliott. I reside at 209 East 59th Street. At the time of the riot, on August 15th, I lived at 327 West 35th Street. I moved from that side of the town right at once on account of the riot. I am twenty-six years of age and weigh about 130 pounds, and am employed at the Hotel Imperial. I have been there nearly two years. I finished my grammar school education in 1887. I entered the Florida State Normal College in 1894; I was there for two sessions, from '94 to '95. I left there and entered into a drug firm by the name of Martinez & Co., Jacksonville, Florida, as an apprentice to study pharmacy, and in less than a year my advancement was so good I was made a prescriptionist. I then came to New York and entered a drug firm by the name of C. K. Harris Beach Pharmacy at Atlantic City, N. J. I was a trustworthy man there, generally useful; during one fall had entire charge of one of two of Mr. Harris' drug stores in Atlantic City. Mr. Harris sold out, and after that I sought other work, and I came here to New York City. My intention has been to accumulate enough money to take a pharmaceutical course. On the night of August 14th there came a colored man to the Hotel Imperial and informed the front door man that there were riots in the street and that there was no way of getting home. This was between nine and ten o'clock in the evening. About 12:15 I was off duty, and left the hotel with John Chism, the front door man; we went out to investigate and see if the boys could get home. We had no sooner got to 6th Avenue and 31st Street than a fierce mob came chasing down the street and in hot pursuit of a colored man, yelling, "Kill the nigger! Lynch him!" We then ran towards Broadway, and were met there by Mr. Murphy, a man who keeps a saloon at 31st Street and 6th Avenue. He advised us to go at once back to the hotel and to tell the chief, Mr. Roberts, to keep all of his men in the hotel that night or they would get killed. We went back, and I delivered the message to Chief Roberts, and he advised and told all the men to stay in. Chism, Travers, and myself came out to the front door again, and saw a Negro running for his life by the Hotel Imperial through 32nd Street towards 5th Avenue, with a mad crowd behind him. Then we were made to come into the hotel by the chief, as the hotel people were afraid that the mob might attack the house. I remained in the hotel all night. Mr. Chism and I tried to get a closed cab to drive three of us home, but the cabman said he would not drive us home for $500. This was the night of the riot in which so many were injured. At five o'clock the next morning I left the Hotel Imperial to go home with Leon Vonce. I walked as far as 36th Street and 8th Avenue with him, as I intended to go to his home with him, as he was very anxious about his wife; he was afraid she might have been attacked. When we got to the corner of 36th Street and 8th Avenue I saw a big white man jump on one of two colored boys, whom I know to be hotel boys going to their work. I got a little uneasy at the sights I saw, and I saw some blood on the sidewalk, and Leon Vonce said to me, "You had better turn around and go home," and I did, and went to bed. At half past eleven I awoke and dressed myself and got out of the house by a quarter to twelve noon, and got as far as Rocky's drug store, corner 34th Street and 8th Avenue. A white boy standing on the corner said to me, "You had better go away from around here, or you will get killed." I then noticed groups of boys and men running from 34th Street down 8th Avenue; they were right across the street from me, and at sight of them I became afraid that they would attack me and I ran home. I had, however, to get to my work, as I knew the hotel people needed me, and I was afraid that some of the other men would not be able to get back to the hotel; so after a little while I made another attempt to go to the hotel. I went out of the house. I was then addressed by a white man, who seemed to be much of a gentleman. He says (this was when I reached 8th Avenue), "For God's sake, boy, you had better go away from here. Go ahead, jump on that car; they just near killed a colored man across the street." Then as he said that I heard the crowd yell, "There's a nigger! there's a nigger! Catch him!" Luckily for me, I jumped on a car and there was a colored boy on the corner by Comford Brothers' saloon. The mob saw him and ran after him; they caught the colored boy and the mob grabbed and gathered around him. They were rough-looking fellows, and I could not see what they did to the colored boy, for he was in the center of this mob. The car I jumped on was a green car and went across 9th Avenue on 34th Street. I jumped off at 9th Avenue, and just as I left the car there were four big white fellows said, "There's a d----d nigger!" and they started at me, and I ran home as hard as I could, and when I reached home I was all out of breath. When I got home the folks at home asked me if I had anything to protect myself. I told them no, I had nothing; I never had any use for such things. There was a colored gentleman stopping there, Mr. Miles. He said it was very dangerous for me to go out, but if I intended going out at all he had a little gun upstairs, which probably would be some protection from the mob. I thanked him very much, and took the gun, a little .22 caliber revolver. I still felt it necessary for me to go back to the hotel, and I thought I would get back by going another way, and for an hour and a half I stood on my stoop and in the house at times waiting for an opportunity to get by the crowd on 8th Avenue and elsewhere; this was about half past two or quarter to three in the afternoon. I started and went west towards 9th Avenue, thinking I could take a car going north to 42nd Street, and then across 42nd Street and down Broadway to the Hotel Imperial at 32nd Street and Broadway. Just as I got to 35th Street and turned the corner on 9th Avenue there was a mob of three or four hundred men and boys just below me coming up 9th Avenue, screaming and hollering and following a car and yelling, "Take the nigger off the car!" "Catch the nigger!" and "Kill the nigger!" and I turned then and I ran up 9th Avenue as hard as I could from the mob, and I ran into a pawnbroker's shop, Mr. Weaver's pawnshop. I stood behind the closed doors, and through the small openings or blinds that the pawnbrokers have over their doors I could see that part of the big crowd that stood in front of the pawnbroker's shop, many of whom were lined up on the sidewalk across the street. I could also see a policeman trying to disperse the men with his club. He was hitting with his club right and left to clear the sidewalk. I saw three guns hanging in the pawnbroker's window, and I said to the pawnbroker, "Let me see those guns there." I had not any intention of buying the guns, and did not buy them, but I thought it would be a bluff to make the crowd think I had something. I told the pawnbroker's clerk I did not want a gun at that time, I would come back. While I was pricing the guns a great big white fellow opened the door, put his head in, and looked suspiciously around the room. He gave me one of those staring looks, and then shut the door. Then Mr. Weaver, the owner of the pawnshop, said, "Don't you go out there; they are waiting out there for you; they will beat you." After staying there for over half an hour, listening to the hollering outside of "Kill the nigger!" "Lynch the nigger!" and the crowd running about the street chasing other negroes, a great many of whom lived in that locality, I asked the clerk if I could go upstairs and hide, as I was afraid they might come in after me; but he said, "No one dasen't come in here." Shortly after this conversation I asked this clerk if it was safe to go out. He said yes, the crowd was chased down the Avenue. I also asked Mr. Weaver if it was safe to go out now. He said he thought everything was over now. I went to the door and peeped out, and I only saw a few people in groups and four boys standing right at the pawnbroker's door a little to the left of me. I called to one of these white boys, and asked him if it was safe for me to go out. He asked me where did I want to go. I told his as far as 42nd Street. He said, "Go to one of those cops and he will take you up." I saw some cops at 36th Street corner. I started toward the cops to ask them to take me up to 42nd Street, but I had not gone half a dozen steps towards where the cops were when a man in citizen's clothes grabbed me. I learned afterwards he was an officer, and he asked me where I was going. I told him I was trying to get to my work. He asked me what I was doing in a pawnbroker's shop. Before I could explain he said I had bought a gun, and commenced to search me. At that time there were four policemen around me. The little .22 caliber gun he found and took from my pocket. I offered no resistance, and only asked him for protection from the mob, which commenced to gather again, and were now yelling, "Kill the nigger!" "Lynch the nigger!" This mob came up close behind me with sticks and stones. One of the officers knocked on the sidewalk with his club, and there were about half a dozen more officers ran to us to keep the mob off me. The mob was kept off me, and the officer in citizen's clothes and a policeman in uniform took hold of each of my shoulders and four policemen followed behind me. The mob went along too, yelling and screaming, "Kill the nigger!" "Lynch the nigger!" We went west on 37th Street towards the 37th Street station, which is between 9th and 10th Avenues, when we turned into 37th Street. Then the two officers in charge of me and two more behind me took me to the 37th Street station house. Up to this time I had not received a blow, and was not injured in any way. They stood me before a man who sat behind a desk in the station house. There were lots of people there. Some of the men were in citizens' clothes. The man behind the desk said to the officer who had me in charge, "What is the charge against this man?" and the officer in citizen's clothes said, "Carrying a concealed weapon he bought out of a pawnshop." I said, "I did not buy any weapon there," and the man behind the desk said, "Don't dictate to us about what you did not do," and then I started to tell him about my reputation and not being a rioter, and that I was only trying to get to my work. He said, "We have got no time to look up your reputation. Lock him up." I was taken by the jailer who is in the station house, and he said, "Come on," and took hold of me. There were two doors leading from the office into the muster room, and I went to get through the left-hand door. Right beside the door in the station house was a policeman leaning against the door. As I passed him he threw out his foot and tripped me. I stumbled but did not fall. I did not see the jailer; he let go of my coat he had hold of. I looked around at the man who tripped me. As I looked around another policeman struck me on the jaw with his fist; then another struck me in the back of the head with his club, and all the policemen in the muster room jumped up and jumped on me, yelling, "Kill him!" "Kill the nigger!" I still stood up and received many punches. I begged for mercy, and did not weaken until an officer struck me in the temple with his billy, and everything was dark around me. I fell down, and I could still feel them kicking and beating me about. This time the man behind the desk, who I believe is Captain Cooney, rushed in and said, "Don't kill that man in here. The reporters are out here, and there is going to be a charge made against you, and if another man touches a prisoner in here I will take a hand in it myself;" and he says, "Lock that man up." At that time I held my hands above my head and was running around trying to find the doorway to the cells. I was then taken and locked up. I am still sick and ill from the blows that I received, and my right eye is affected. It quivers and is bloodshot, and the right part of my head and temple is sore. I stayed in the police station all night, and sent a telegram to the hotel people at the Imperial, and the manager sent a detective over to get me out, but the detective was afraid to take me out. The next morning I was arraigned before Magistrate Cornell for carrying a concealed weapon. Magistrate Cornell picked up the pistol and said, "Is this your gun?" and laughed, and said that a man with a bad reputation would carry no such gun as that; but he said, "We will have to charge you three dollars for carrying a concealed weapon." I paid the fine and went straight to Travers' house, where my head was bathed in hot water and alcohol, and he rubbed my side and back. I remained there in bed all day. I was unable to work for two days, and then I went back. Since I went back Captain Cooney has sent for me twice, but I have been afraid to go back there. I can bring more evidence to show that after I came out of the police station my head was swollen half its size again, and I could hardly open my mouth, and for two days I had difficulty in eating. I cannot open my mouth right wide now.
WILLIAM J. ELLIOTT.
Sworn to before me this 24th day of August, 1900.
HERBERT PARSONS, Notary Public, N. Y. County.
----
(On the hearing before Commissioner York three newspaper reporters corroborated Elliott, but a host of policemen contradicted him. Elliott and his witnesses were badgered by Mr. York, and the policemen were led and protected. Counsel was not permitted to take part.)
----
_City and County of New York, ss._:
My name is Harry Reed. I reside at 346 West 41st Street, in the Borough of Manhattan, City of New York. On August 15th, 1900, I was over in Brooklyn and was coming home with four companions. About half-past twelve I reached the corner of 34th Street and 8th Avenue. We five boys were sitting on the seat of an open 8th Avenue car. When we got at the corner of 37th Street and 8th Avenue we saw a mob, and the mob called out, "There's some niggers; lynch them!" and they made a rush for the car, and I jumped out. Then I ran up to the corner of 38th Street, where there were four policemen. Of these four policemen three were standing on the corner, and one ran into the street to stop me. When he saw me coming I was running hard, fast as I could. When I reached this policeman in the street, he hit me over the head with his club. He hit me twice over the head, and I saw the other three policemen coming, and I fell down. I thought if I fell down the others would not attack me, but they did; they hit me over the legs and on my arm, when I raised it up to protect my head, and they hit me in the back. The two cops started to take me to the police station, but when they saw a patrol wagon come around the corner of 38th Street into 8th Avenue they called the patrol wagon, and both went with me in the patrol wagon to the station house, where I stayed till about four o'clock in the morning. There was no charge made against me in the station house. After my head was bound up, and at about four o'clock in the morning, a man dressed in citizen's clothes said, "Two at a time can go when they want to; things are quieted down somewhat." I asked him if anybody was going with us, and they said, "No, go by yourself." I went directly home, where I stayed and went to bed. I got up at about half-past eight and went to the Roosevelt Hospital the next morning. They told me at the station house to go to the hospital. I have been up to the Roosevelt Hospital three times, on the 16th, 17th, and 18th. I don't think I will go any more, but still I have to wear a bandage and dress my head. The scar that I have got on my head is about two inches long, and I was also hit and a bump was raised on the back of my head, but the skin is not broken. I bled a great deal from the wound on my head; my shirt, collar, and tie were all blood-spotted. I am about fifteen years old; one of my companions, who is about twenty-four years old, was knocked down, kicked in the face, and thrown down a cellar by a mob. He is my father's son-in-law; his name is Joe Walker, and he resides at 346 West 41st Street. My other companions did not get hurt at all. One of them started to jump from the car, but a policeman told him to get back, and he stayed on the car, and the mob left him there because they were chasing me and the other fellow. This man was about nineteen or twenty years old. Of my other companions, one was a white boy about nineteen years old, and the mob did not touch him, and he stayed on the car. The other colored boy, who is about fifteen years old, is light-complexioned in color, and the mob did not touch him; he stayed on the cars also. We were in the third seat from the front; we were all sitting on the same seat. I was on the right hand and outside coming up, and when I saw the mob coming along the street from the right I clambered past the other fellows and jumped over the rail on the left, and was the first fellow out. I ran uptown towards 38th Street, where I saw these cops. I wanted to get protection, but instead the cops hit me, as I have told. I did not resist arrest, and I did not struggle to get away from the cops. I only wanted to get away from the mob. The cops stopped me, and did not catch hold of me until I had got down and the other cop had hit me, and one of them caught hold of me to make me stand up. I did not even try to run away after I had been hit. I was afraid to run, because I knew if I did they would hit me again.
HARRY REED.
Sworn to before me this 22nd day of August, 1900.
JOHN C. BARR, Notary Public, Kings County. Certificate filed in N. Y. County.
----
_City and County of New York, ss._: