Manhattan at any time is a fascinating place. But I couldn’t resist the Gilded Age at Christmastime. So many amazing things, places, and people to discover: wonderful things and some not so wonderful. In other words, life.
One I never really thought about was the Black Hand, until one day I was perusing old copies of The New York Times just to get a feel for the atmosphere in 1907. (Their online archive is an indispensible research tool and fascinating rabbit hole.) This led me from Christmas trees and the descent of the first New Year’s Eve ball from the newly built Times building roof to charity balls and food lines at the Salvation Army. I was reading an article about the threat to impose Sunday blue laws on theaters and nickelodeons when my eye caught a mention of La Mano Negra, the “Black Hand.” And down the rabbit hole I went.
At the time of Lady Dunbridge’s arrival in Manhattan there were widespread incidents of extortion credited to the elusive Black Hand, which held the citizens of several cities in terror. Rumors flourished that residents, mainly Italian immigrants and small shop owners, as well as those of great wealth, were being targeted by a widespread secret crime organization. But though its perpetrators used the same techniques—fires, bombings, kidnappings, murder, and threats signed with a threatening black hand or similar symbol—it was not a well-organized syndicate but a loosely related band of gangsters or individuals feeding on the fear of the populace. In fact, any person with a grudge and who could draw a picture might use the reputation of the Black Hand to frighten his victim. It was not the Mafia, who would take over power in New York a few years later. Nor was it the Camorra. A New York police officer, Joseph Petrosino, headed a squad of Italian-speaking policemen in an attempt to rein in this spate of terror.
Electric Christmas lights were all the rage in the Christmas of 1907. These sets of miniature bulbs were supplied in strings of 8, 16, 24, and 32 lights. They were promised to be “safe, simple, and convenient” and would “avoid all the danger and trouble incident to the use of candles.” They ranged in price from twelve to fifteen dollars, equivalent to about four hundred dollars now, more money than many workers made in a week.
The New York Times building, which had moved from downtown to the triangle of land between Forty-Second and Forty-Third Streets where Broadway and Seventh Avenue converge, was a largely steel building of twenty-five stories. With an underground shopping area and subway station, it was considered the tallest building in the States. And New Year’s Eve of 1907 was the first time a lighted ball descended from the roof, watched by multitudes of revelers in Times Square.
Every year, Mr. William M. Filess really did host an annual newsboys’ Christmas dinner, which he and his father before him had been giving for forty years. The celebration took place at the Newsboys’ Home on Chambers Street, and consisted of “800 pounds of turkey, 200 pounds of ham, two barrels of potatoes, two barrels of turnips, two double crates of celery, 1,800 mince pies, and 120 gallons of coffee … Enough to feed 1,800.”
I did take a small liberty with the weather. Now as much as we all love a White Christmas, there was no snow reported for Manhattan during Christmas 1907. So I pulled out my author’s license and took everyone to Holly Farm where I brazenly dumped a good few inches of loveliness on our characters.
I hope you will join Lady Phil and friends on her next crime-solving adventure in Gilded Age New York. I hear it’s “predicted” that their next case will involve a trip to the newly opened Coney Island.
For directions on how to make paper Moravian stars or Bev’s Christmas cocktail, please visit my website at shelleynoble.com.