Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 5, No. 32, June, 1860

V >> Various >> Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 5, No. 32, June, 1860

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[Footnote: Since writing the preceding sentences, we have been gratified to
see that a bill proposing the creation of a Metropolitan Board of Health
has been introduced into the Legislature of New York. If the bill becomes a
law, as we trust it may, the board will be invested with power "to enact
ordinances for the proper government and control of buildings erecting or
to be erected, ... to compel the lessees or owners of dwellings to put the
same in proper order, and to provide sufficient means of egress in case of
fire." The New-York Evening Post of March 23, in giving an account of this
bill, says,--and there is no exaggeration in its statements,--

"The nearly one million of souls of this great city are left to take care
of themselves,--to be crowded mercilessly by landlords into houses without
light, air, or water, and without means of egress in case of fire; and the
street filth is allowed to accumulate till the city has become as the
famous Pontine Marshes, to breathe whose exhalations is certain
disease. All this results, as is proved by comparison with other cities, in
the unnecessary loss of five thousand to eight thousand lives annually, and
of many millions of dollars expended for unnecessary sickness, and the
consequent loss of time and strength,--all of which might be saved, as they
are actually saved in other and larger cities, by the application of
sanitary laws by intelligent and efficient officers.

"And yet our Common Council are unmoved to apply the corrective, and the
Legislature postpones action upon the numerous petitions of the people upon
the subject. How long these bodies will be suffered to abuse the patience
of our citizens we cannot tell; but the breaking out of a pestilence which
shall sweep a thousand a week into the grave, and bring this city to
financial ruin, will be but a natural issue of the present neglect. The
Health Bill now before the Legislature has been prepared under the auspices
of the Sanitary Association. Its provisions are sweeping; but the
importance of the subject, the uniform filthy condition of our streets, and
the wretched and unsafe condition of our tenement-houses imperatively
demand changes of the most radical nature. The general provisions of the
bill seem to cover the points most requiring legislation; and while in some
of its details it could probably be improved, it is difficult to imagine
that the present state of sanitary regulations could be made worse, and
certain that the proposed reforms, if carried out, would be of great
advantage."

In Massachusetts, statutes have existed for some years, giving to the
Boards of Health of the different cities or towns powers of a similar
nature to those granted by the bill proposed for New York, but of far too
limited scope. By Chapter 26, Sec. 11, of the General Statutes, which are to
go into operation this year, the Boards of Health are authorized to remove
the occupants of any tenement, occupied as a dwelling-place, which is unfit
for the purpose, and a cause of nuisance or sickness either to the
occupants or the public,--and may require the premises, previously to their
reoccupation, to be properly cleansed at the expense of the owner. But the
penalty for a violation of this article is too light, being a fine of not
less than ten nor more than fifty dollars. To secure any essential good
from this law, it must be energetically enforced, with a disregard of
personal consequences, and an enlightened view of public and private rights
and necessities, scarcely to be expected from Boards of Health as commonly
constituted. We require a law upon this subject conveying far ampler
powers, enforced by far heavier penalties. It should embrace oversight of
the construction as well as of the condition of the dwellings of the
poor. Until we obtain such a law, the community is bound to insist upon a
rigid enforcement of the present imperfect statute.

[The bill above alluded to by our correspondent has since been rejected by
the Legislature of New York.--EDS. ATLANTIC.]]

Still, however much may be done by public authority, the condition of the
dwellings of the poor must be determined chiefly by the interest and the
legal responsibility of their individual owners. That men may be found
willing to make fortunes for themselves by grinding the faces of the poor
is certain; but there are, on the other hand, many who would be willing to
use some portion, at least, of their means to provide suitable homes for
the destitute, could they be assured of receiving a fair return upon the
property invested. It has been a matter of doubt whether proper houses
could be built for the dwellings of the lower classes, with all necessary
accommodations for health and comfort, at such a cost that the rents could
be kept as low as those paid for the common wretched tenements, and at the
same time be sufficient to afford a reasonable interest upon the
investment. Toward the solution of this doubt, an experiment which has been
tried in Boston during the last five years has afforded important results.

In the spring of 1853, a number of gentlemen having subscribed a sufficient
sum for the purpose of building a house or houses on the best plan, as
Model Dwellings for the Poor, a society was formed, which, in the next
year, received an act of incorporation from the Legislature under the style
of "The Model Lodging-House Association." A suitable lot of land having
been obtained upon favorable terms, at the corner of Pleasant Street and
Osborn Place, the Directors of the Association proceeded to erect two brick
houses, of different construction, each containing separate tenements for
twenty families. The plans of the buildings were prepared with great care
to secure the essentials of a healthy home,--pure air, pure water,
efficient drainage, cleanliness, and light. In their details, strict regard
was had to the most economical and best use of a limited space, and ample
precautions were taken to reduce to its least the risk of fire. In each
house, double staircases, continuous to the roof, (and in one of them of
iron,) and two main exits were provided; and more recently, the two
buildings, which are separated from each other by a passage-way some feet
in width, have been connected by throwing an iron bridge from roof to roof,
by which, in case of alarm in one of them, escape may be readily had
through the other. Each house was, moreover, divided in the middle by a
solid brick partition-wall.

The houses are five stories in height, not including the basement or
cellar, with four tenements in each story. The reduced plans, on the
opposite page, exhibit the general arrangements of the houses, and show the
complete separation of each set of apartments from the others, each one
opening by a single door upon the common stairs or passage. Their relation
is scarcely closer than that of separate houses in a common continuous
block. Each tenement, it will be observed, consists of a living-room, and
two or three sleeping-rooms, according to the space, a wash-room, with sink
and cupboards, and a water-closet. The stories are eight feet and six
inches in height, which is ample for the necessities of ventilation. In one
of the buildings, each tenement is provided with shafts for dust and offal,
communicating with receptacles in the cellar. The roofs of both are fitted
with conveniences for the drying of clothes, properly guarded; and in the
cellars of both are closets, one for each tenement, to hold fuel or
stores. In the basement of house No. 1 there are also two bathing-rooms,
which have been found of great use.

[Illustration: PLAN OF MODEL HOUSE, No. 1 OSBORN PLACE, BOSTON.]

[Illustration: PLAN OF ONE-HALF OF MODEL HOUSE, No. 3 OSBORN PLACE,
BOSTON.]

It would be difficult, after some years' experience, to pronounce which of
the two houses is the best fitted for its object. Their cost was nearly the
same. The plan of No. 1 is original and ingenious; its large open central
space is valuable for purposes of ventilation, and as affording opportunity
for exercise under cover in stormy weather for infants and infirm
people. This advantage is perhaps compensated for in the other house by the
fact of each tenement reaching from back to front of the house, thus
securing within itself the means of a thorough draught of fresh air. Both
plans are excellent, and may be unqualifiedly recommended.

The houses were ready for occupation about the beginning of 1855, and since
that time have been constantly full. The applicants for tenements, whenever
one becomes vacant, are always numerous.

The cost of these two buildings was a little over $18,000 each, exclusive
of the cost of the land upon which they stand. The land cost about $8,000;
and the whole cost of the buildings, including some slight changes
subsequent to their original erection, and of the lot on which they stand,
would be more than covered by the sum of $46,000.

The rents were fixed upon a scale varying with the amount of accommodation
afforded by the separate tenements, and with their convenience of access.
They run from $2 to $2.87 per week. By those familiar with the rents paid
by the poor these sums will be seen to be not higher than are frequently
paid for the most unhealthy and inconvenient lodgings. The total annual
amount of rent received from each house is $2,353, which, after paying
taxes, water-rates, gas-bills, and all other expenses, including all
repairs necessary to keep the building in good order, leaves a full six per
cent. interest upon the sum invested.

A portion of the land purchased by the Association not having been occupied
by the two houses already described, it was determined to erect a third
house upon it, of a somewhat superior character, for a class just above the
line of actual poverty, but often forced by circumstances into unhealthy
and uncomfortable homes. This was accordingly done, at a cost, including
the land, of about $26,000. The house, of which the plan is well worthy of
imitation, contains a shop and nine tenements. These tenements, which form
not only comfortable, but agreeable homes, are rented at from two to three
hundred dollars a year, and the gross income derived from the building is
about $2,500.

During the five years since the first occupation of the houses no loss of
rents has occurred. For the most part, the rent has been paid not only
punctually, but with satisfaction, and the expressions which have been
received of the content of the occupants of the tenements have been of the
most gratifying sort. The houses, as we know from personal inspection, are
now in a state of excellent repair, and show no signs of carelessness or
neglect on the part of their occupants. Few private houses would have a
fresher and neater aspect after so long occupancy. The tenants have been,
with few exceptions, Americans by birth, and they have taken pains to keep
up the character of their dwellings.

One of the Trustees of the Association, a gentleman to whose good judgment
and constant oversight, as well as to his sympathetic kindness tor the
occupants of the houses and interest in their affairs, much of the success
of this experiment is due, says, in a letter from which we are permitted to
quote,--"From my experience in the management of this kind of property, I
believe that it may in all cases with proper care be made _safe and
permanent for investment_. But what I think better of is the good such
houses do in elevating and making happier their tenants, and I much rejoice
in having had an opportunity to test their usefulness."

As a comment upon these brief, but weighty sentences, we would beg any of
our readers, who may have opportunity, to look for himself at the
substantial and not unornamental buildings of the Association, with their
showier front on Pleasant Street, and their imposing length and height of
range along the side of Osborn Place,--to see them affording healthy and
convenient homes to fifty families, many of whom, without some such
provision, would be exposed to be forced into the wretched quarters too
familiar to the poor,--and then to compare them with the common
lodging-houses in any of the lower streets or alleys of Boston or New York.

A similar work to that performed by the Boston Association was undertaken
shortly afterward by a society in New York, who in 1854-5 erected a
building containing ninety tenements of three rooms each, under the name of
"The Working-Men's Home." The cost of this enormous building, which was
well designed, was about $90,000. It is fifty-five feet in breadth by one
hundred and ninety feet in length; it is nearly fireproof, and is provided
with double stairways. It has been occupied from the first by colored
people, and we regret to learn that it has not proved a success, so far as
regards the annual return upon the property invested. After paying the
heavy city tax of 1 3/4 per cent., and the charges for gas and water, the
sum remaining for an annual dividend is not more than four per cent.

This want of success is not, we believe, inherent in the plan itself, but
is the result of a want of proper management and supervision. We learn that
the tenants often leave without paying rent, and that the building is more
or less injured by their neglect. The class of tenants has undoubtedly been
of a lower grade than that which has occupied the Boston houses, and the
habits of the blacks are far inferior to those of the white American poor
in personal neatness and care of their dwellings. But we have no doubt,
that, in spite of these drawbacks, a good revenue might be derived from the
rents paid by this class of tenants. The success of the Boston experiment
is due in considerable part to the employment by the Association of a paid
Superintendent, living with his family in one of the buildings, who has a
general oversight of the houses, collects the rents, and determines the
claims of occupants of the tenements. Such an officer is indispensable for
the proper carrying on of any similar undertaking on so large a scale. We
trust that no effort will be spared in New York to bring out more
satisfactory results from this great establishment. Benevolence is one
thing, and good investments another; but benevolence in this case does not
do half its work, unless it can be proved to pay. It must be profitable, in
order to be in the best sense a charity.

The effect which the Boston houses have already had, in proving that homes
for the poor can be built on the best plan for the health and comfort of
their inmates and at the same time be good investments of property, is
manifest in many private undertakings. Several large houses have already
been built upon similar plans; old lodging-houses have been in several
instances remodelled and otherwise improved; blocks of small dwellings for
one or two families have been erected with every convenience for the class
who can afford to pay from three to six dollars a week for their
accommodations. The example set by the Association promises to be widely
followed.

Much, however, yet remains to be done, and associate or private energy is
needed for the trial of new and not less important experiments than that
already well performed. The means for some of them are at hand. It will be
remembered that the late Hon. Abbott Lawrence, to whose beneficence during
his life the community was so largely indebted, and whose liberal deeds
will long be remembered with gratitude, left by will the sum of $50,000 to
be held by Trustees for the erection of dwellings for the poor. This sum
will in a short time be ready for employment for its designated purpose,
and it may be hoped that those who control its disposal will not so much
imitate the work already done as perform a work not yet accomplished, but
not less essential. The houses of the Association are, as we have stated,
not occupied by the most destitute poor,--and it is for this lowest class
that the most pressing need exists for an improvement in their
habitations. If the cellar-dwelling poor can be provided with healthy
homes, and these homes can be made to pay a fair rent, the worst evil in
the condition of our cities will be in a way to be remedied. It is very
desirable that a house should be erected in one of the crowded quarters of
the city, and at a distance from the buildings of the Association, in which
each room should be arranged for separate occupation. The rooms might be of
different sizes upon the different floors, to accommodate single men who
require only a lodging-place, or a man and wife. Perhaps on one floor rooms
should be made with means of opening into each other, to supply the need of
those who might require more than one of them. The house should be heated
throughout by furnaces, to save the necessity of fires in the rooms; and as
no private meals could be cooked in the house, an eating-room, where meals
could be had or provisions purchased ready for eating, should form part of
the arrangements of the house in the lower story. There can be no doubt
that such a house would be at once filled,--and but little, that, if
properly built and managed, under efficient superintendence it would pay
well, at the lowest rates of rent. Even with a possibility of its failing
to return a net annual income of six per cent upon its cost, it is an
experiment that ought to be tried,--and we earnestly hope that the Trustees
of Mr. Lawrence's bequest will not hesitate to make it. Putting out of
question all considerations of profitable investment, it would be, as a
pure charity, one of the best works that could be performed.

We must restore health to our cities, and, to accomplish this end, we must
provide fit homes for the poor. The way in which this may be done has been
shown.

* * * * *

A SHORT CAMPAIGN ON THE HUDSON.

The campaigner marched out of a lawyer's office in Nassau Street, New York.

"Shyster," said our old man, as he called me into his own den, or rather
lair,--(for den, I take it, is the private residence of a beast of prey,
and lair his place of business. I do not think that this definition is
mine, but I forget to whom it belongs,)--"I suppose you would not dislike a
trip into the country? Very well. These papers must be explained to General
Van Bummel, and signed by him. He lives at Thunderkill, on the Hudson. Take
the ten-o'clock train, and get back as soon as you can. Charge your
expenses to the office."

"What luck!" thought I, as I dashed down-stairs into the
street,--determined to obey his last injunction to the letter, whatever
course I might think fit to adopt about the one preceding it. No one who
has not been an attorney's clerk at three dollars a week, copying
declarations and answers from nine A.M. to six P.M., in a dusty, inky,
uncarpeted room, with windows unwashed since the last lease expired, can
form a correct notion of the exhilaration of my mind when I took my seat in
the railroad-car. The great Van Bnmmel himself never felt bigger nor
better.

It was in that loveliest season of the year, the Indian summer,--a week or
ten days of atmospheric perfection which the clerk of the weather allows us
as a compensation for our biting winter and rheumatic spring. The veiled
rays of the sun and the soft shadows produce the effect of a golden
moonlight, and make even Nature's shabbiest corners attractive. To be
out-of-doors with nothing to do, and nothing to think of but the mere
pleasure of existence, is happiness enough at such times. But I was looking
at a river panorama which is one of Nature's best efforts, I have heard;
and on that morning it seemed to me impossible that the world could show
anything grander.

It was very calm. The broad glittering surface of the river showed here and
there a slight ripple, when some breath of air touched it for a moment; but
wind there was none,--only a few idle breezes lounging about, waiting for
orders to join old Boreas in his next autumnal effort to crack his
cheeks. The bright-colored trees glowed on the mountain-sides like beds of
living coals.

"How the deuse," thought I, as I stared at them, "can a discerning public
be satisfied with Cole's pictures of 'American Scenery in the Fall of the
Year'? You see on his canvas, to be sure, red, green, orange, and so on,
the peculiar tints of the leaves; but Nature does more (and Cole does not):
she blends the variegated hues into one bright mass of bewitching color by
the magic of this soft, golden, hazy sunshine. I wish, too, that the great
company of story-tellers would let scenery rest in peace. The charm of a
landscape is entireness, unity; it strikes the eye at once and as a whole.
Examination of the component parts is quite a different thing. Who ean
build up a view in his mind by piling up details like bricks upon one
another? Most people, I suspect, will find, as I do, that, no matter what
author they may be reading, the same picture always presents itself. A
vague outline of some view they have seen arises in the memory,--like the
forest scene in a scantily furnished theatre, which comes on for every
play. The naked woods, trees, rocks, lake, river, mountain, would have done
the business just as well, and saved a deal of writing and of printing. The
most successful artist in this line I know of is Michael Scott, whose
tropical sketches in 'Tom Cringle's Log' are unequalled by any
landscape-painter, past or present, who uses pen and ink instead of canvas
and colors."

My trance was broken by the voice of the brakeman shouting, "Thunderkill,"
into the car, as the train drew up at a wooden station-house. Jumping out,
I asked the way to General Van Bummel's. A man with a whip in his hand
offered his services as guide and common carrier. I determined to
experience a new sensation,--for once in my life to anathematize
expenditure, and charge it to the office. So, climbing into a kind of
leathern tent upon wheels, I was soon on my way to the leaguer of the
General. A drive of a mile brought us to two stout stone gateposts,
surmounted each by a cannon-ball, which marked Van Bummel's boundary. We
turned into a lane shut in by trees. While busily taking an inventory of
the General's landed possessions for future use, my attention was drawn off
by loud shouts, the sound of the gallop of horses and the rattling of
wheels. Imagining at once that the General's family-pair must be running
away with his family-coach, I eagerly urged my driver to push on; but the
cold-hearted wretch only laughed and said he "guessed there was nothing
particular the matter." At last, we _debouched_ (excuse the word; I have
not yet got the military taste out of my mouth) upon a lawn, across which a
pair of large bay horses, ridden postilion-fashion by one man, were
dragging a brass six-pounder, upon which sat another in full uniform.

"What the Devil is that?" said I.

"That's the Gineral and his coachman a-having a training," answered my
driver.

As he spoke, the officer shouted, "Halt!"

Coachy pulled up.

"Unlimber!" thundered the chief; and, aided by his man, obeyed his own
orders.

"Load!" and "Fire!" followed in rapid succession.

I saw and smelt that they used real powder. This over, the horses were made
fast again, John, bestrode his nag, the General clambered on to his brazen
seat and down they came at a tearing pace directly towards us. Luckily I
had read "Charles O'Malley," and knew how to behave in such cases. I jumped
from the wagon, and, tying my handkerchief to the ferule of my umbrella,
advanced, waving it and shouting, "A flag of truce!" The General ordered a
halt and despatched himself to the flag. As he approached I beheld a stout,
middle-aged, good natured looking man, dressed in the graceless costume of
Uncle Sam's army; but I must say that he wore it with more grace than most
of the Regulars I have seen. Our soldiers look unbecomingly in their
clothes,--there is no denying it,--a good deal like _sups_ in a procession
at the Bowery. A New-York policeman sports pretty much the same dress in
much better style. You hardly ever see an officer or private, least of all
the officer, with the _air militaire_. I also noticed with pleasure that
the General had not on his head that melodramatic black felt,
feather-bedecked hat, which some fantastic Secretary of War must have
imagined in a dream, after seeing "Fra Diavolo" at the opera, or Wallack in
Massaroni. In place of this abomination, a cap covered with glazed leather
surmounted his martial brow. When we met, I lowered my umbrella and offered
my card, with the office pasteboard. He took them with great gravity, read
the names, and requested me to fall back to the rear and await orders. Then
rejoining his gun, he was driven slowly towards the house,--my peaceful
_ambulance_ following at a respectful distance. When I reached the door,
the six-pounder had disappeared behind a clump of evergreens, and the
General stood waiting to receive me. His manner was affable.

"How d'ye do, Mr. Shyster? Glad to see you, Sir. Walk into the library,
Sir."

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