or diminish the number of the other. It was at that time appropriately styled the "Thieves' Paradise," for even after some daring and expert felon had been captured by the authorities and securely lodged in jail, the meshes of the law, as it then existed, were so large, and the manner of administering justice (?) so loose, that the higher class of criminal, possessed of political influence, or, better still, of money, invariably escaped the punishment his crime deserved. The very police themselves were, in many cases, in league with the thieves and shared in the "swag" of the successful burglar, expert counterfeiter, adroit pickpocket, villainous sneak and panel thief, or daring and accomplished forger; hence crime, from being in a measure "protected," increased, criminals multiplied and prisons were made necessarily larger.

But this was years ago, and under a far different police system than that now in vogue, the merits and efficacy of which it will be both a duty and a pleasure hereafter to fully mention. The collusion between the police and the criminals, at the times of which we speak, became a very serious matter, in which the public early began to exhibit its temper. So late as the year 1850 it was an anxious question whether the authorities or the lawless classes should secure the upper hand and possess the city, and this condition of affairs, this triangular strife of supposed law and order on one side, protection to law-breakers on the other, and the protests of an indignant, outraged and long-suffering people on the third, prevailed until the year that Bill Poole was murdered by Lew Baker on Broadway, which notable event marked an epoch in the city's history, and to some extent improved the then existing state of affairs, as it occasioned the dispersal of a notorious gang of swell roughs, whose power was felt in local politics, and directed the attention of every lover of peace and justice to the enactment of better laws and a sterner method of executing them.

About the year 1855, two classes of "toughs," or, as they were dubbed in those days, "rowdies," appear to have had and maintained some control of the city, overawing the regularly constituted authorities, intimidating the police by their numbers, and carrying things with a high hand generally. One class consisted of the individuals comprehended in the title of "Bowery Boy"—a term which included that certain, or rather uncertain, element of New Yorker residing in the streets running into the Bowery and adjacent to it, below Canal street, and the other, a rival gang, called "Dead Rabbits," which unsavory distinction was adopted by an equally questionable portion of humanity dwelling in the Fourth and Sixth wards and streets in the vicinity of Catherine and Roosevelt. There were among these two gangs of the city's representative "toughs," materials of a far different kind from the actual felon, but who were none the less dangerous, and among them may be classed many leaders of ward politics and volunteer fire companies, and from which Lew Baker and his victim, Bill Poole, "The Paudeen," "Reddy, the Blacksmith," and numerous others were afterwards developed; but they were oftener far more guilty than the real criminals, for they aided and abetted, and in cases of arrest befriended them, causing their subsequent escape from the penalties justly due for their crimes.

As a type of the veritable "Bowery Boy" may be taken the leader of that gang of notorious "toughs," one who, from his well-earned reputation as a bar-room and street rough-and-tumble fighter, has become a historical personage, under the sobriquet of "Mose." His faithful lieutenant, "Syksey," of "hold de butt" fame, will not soon be forgotten either, as both figured prominently in the terrible pitched battles the two rival gangs frequently indulged in, to the terror and consternation of all New York. Of the rival mob, known as "Dead Rabbits," Kit Burns, Tommy Hedden and "Shang" Allen are names long to be remembered by the terror-stricken citizens who lived in the days when the fights between these notorious aspirants for pugilistic and bloody honors were often of the deadliest and most sanguinary character, lasting for days at a time; when entire streets were blockaded and barricaded, and the mobs were armed with pistols and rifles. Even cannons were sometimes used, and the police, even when aided by the military, were powerless to suppress these battles until many were killed and wounded on both sides. In these desperate conflicts it was no unusual sight to see women, side by side with men, fighting as valiantly as their husbands, sons or fathers, and the records of the courts and prisons of those days tell dreadful stories of murders, robberies and other crimes done under cover of these periodical street fights.

At this time the locality known as the "Five Points" was probably the worst spot on the face of the civilized globe. In and around it centered, perhaps, the most villainous and desperate set of savage human beings ever known to the criminal annals of a great city. To pass through it in daylight was attended by considerable danger, even when accompanied by several officers of the law. Woe to the unfortunate individual who chanced to stray into this neighborhood after dark. A knock on the head, a quick rifling of pockets, a stab if the victim breathed, a push down some dark cellar, were frequently the skeleton outlines of many a dreadful tragedy, of which the victim was never afterwards heard. The name "Five Points," was given to that particular spot formed by the junction or crossing of Worth, Baxter and Park streets, but nearly embraced all the neighborhood comprised in the locality bounded by Centre, Chatham, Pearl and Canal streets in the Sixth ward, and was frequently afterwards mentioned as the "Bloody Sixth," from the many daily conflicts eventuating there.

The "Five Points," from being the hiding-place and residence of the most bloodthirsty set of criminals, vagabonds and cut-throats, has, through the influence of the Five Points Mission House and the gradual encroachments of business houses, become quite respectable, and while now sheltering a large number of the foreign element, has ceased, to a great extent, to longer excite terror in the community. Still, it has not entirely lost its former well-merited title of "Thieves' Nest." It is comparatively a safe thoroughfare in daylight, and after dark, if one is on constant guard, he may safely pass unharmed.

In the Fourth ward, just beyond the locality written about, was another terrible rendezvous for an equally desperate set of men. It was known as Slaughter-house Point, and a criminal here was, for a time, safe from the police, as its many intricate streets and tumble-down houses offered a safe hiding-place for every kind of outlaw, even up to very recent years. Here the terrible garroter dwelt for a long time; aye, and throve, too, until our criminal judges began sentencing every one of them convicted before them to the extreme penalty of twenty years in Sing Sing, which largely suppressed that class of criminals in this city.

The methods of the garroter were quick, sure and silent. At Slaughter-house Point and its environs many a returned East India sea captain, whose vessel was moored to one of the docks at the foot of a contiguous street, has either strayed or been beguiled into this neighborhood, drugged and robbed. Others, whose business or chance brought them within the reach of this set of desperadoes, have fared similarly. Sad has been the fate of many an individual unfortunately falling into the clutches of these murderous villains. A stealthy step, an arm thrown under the chin of the unsuspecting victim, a bear-like clasp, and total unconsciousness. To rifle the pockets of the unlucky man—sometimes stripping him and throwing him off the dock—and escape into one of the many dark and dismal passages abounding in the neighborhood, was but a few minutes' work, and nothing remained to tell how the drama, perhaps tragedy, was enacted.

Another class of dangerous criminals haunted