Saturday, July 27, 2019

Isaac Christiancy's Honeymoon from Hell

Senator Christiancy and his pretty bride Lillian set forth for their honeymoon in New York on February 8, 1876.  It would have been a tiring train trip after the excitement of the wedding.  The couple stopped to spend their wedding night in Philadelphia.

Lillian did not even remove her hat, according to accounts.  Instead, she turned to old Isaac and said she had a confession to make:  She had once been in love and engaged to a man by the name of James Lugenbeel (a cousin, perhaps?).  It is implied that the relationship had gone badly, and Lugenbeel had left town.

But, as it happened, James Lugenbeel suddenly returned to Washington on the very morning Lillie was to be wed to the Senator.  Lillian told Christiancy that she still loved Lugenbeel and that the vows she had taken to love, honor and obey Christiancy had been “perjury.” 

They had only been married a few hours; now, Lillian asked Christiancy for a divorce. 

"At the Altar," by Firs Sergeevich Zhuravlev
Christiancy, outraged, said he would forbid it, and, as he later testified, “upon my telling her that there was no ground for a divorce and that none could be had, she screamed like a maniac.”
How the remainder of the wedding night passed—and whether or not they continued their honeymoon—are facts lost to history. 

The couple returned to Washington, where, shortly afterwards, newspapers reported that Mrs. Constancy resumed her friendship with Mr. Lugenbeel. 

But that relationship was short-lived.  Fickle Lillie soon became "attached" to a Mr. Frank Y. Anderson of Mobile, Alabama, and was reported to have a “fondness” for two other individuals--Mr. Sam Register of Baltimore and a certain “Mr. Mayor.”  Certainly not THE mayor;
the District was administered by a Board of Commissioners, whose members were appointed by the President.

Frank Anderson was a clerk at the US postal service - born ca. 1851 in Maryland, moved to Washington DC.  He would marry a Lucy Winston [Payne] in 1882.
Feb. 27, 1876.  The Atlanta Constitution quotes the New York Herald as saying that the young Georgia man who Lillian cast aside to marry Christiancy was going to hang around Washington til she becomes a widow and “gets her thirds.”
 March 15, 1876.  Oshkosh Daily Northwestern reports that on March 11, Mrs. Christiancy was seen at Corcoran Gallery of Art.  The reporter describes her as below medium height, blonde and wearing a plum-colored suit “fearfully and wonderfully made,” light kid gloves and a white felt hat trimmed with white feathers and long streamers.  The Senator wasn’t there.  She leaned on the arm of her so-called brother, promenading and never stopping to look at any of the pictures.  She was remarkably talkative and vivacious to her brother,“which is rather an unusual thing,” is it not?
1874 Lithograph by John Henry Camp, from collection of New York Public Library

By spring that year, Lillian told friends that the marriage had grown intolerable.  One evening, for example, the couple had an argument over the actions of one of Christiancy’s older sons, and Mrs. Christiancy announced that she would go spend the night at her mother's--who happened to live just across the street.  She later said her husband became so angry that he put his hands around her throat, then locked her in the bedroom. 

Something had to be done to remove his young wife from temptation--and the prying eyes of the press.  That summer of 1876, they moved to his former home on the northwest corner of First and Macomb Streets in Monroe, Michigan, just a block from the courthouse.
Besides young George, who was now 13, Christiancy had four grown sons, who, Lillian complained, had drinking problems and fought constantly:  James I., approximately 32;  Benjamin F., 25; Victor H., 22; and John W., 20 years.  Records show that Isaac had another son, William Penn, born in about 1847.  

Aside from an “inexperienced servant girl” of fifteen, Mrs. Christiancy complained to anyone who would listen that she had no domestic help and had to do all the cooking, cleaning and mending by herself.  She begged her husband to move them into a separate house, away from his sons.  He promised they would, but failed to deliver.
Monroe, Monroe Co., Michigan
Chicago, Chicago Lithographing Co. [1866]
Library of Congress Geography and Map Division Washington, D.C. 20540-4650 USA

Meanwhile, newspaper reports began to circulate that the old Senator was in failing health.  

Early in 1878, Christiancy began to hint that he was “indifferent” to his seat as a Senator and would gladly give it up if offered a position in the foreign service.  His Lansing supporters told the press that he believed a dry, tropical climate might be beneficial to his health.

But those closest to him knew about his marital woes and believed he wanted to get as far away from scandal as he could--and at the same time, tear his wife away from her assorted suitors.

In the early weeks of 1879, newspapers reported that Christiancy was set to resign from the Senate and accept a post as Ambassador to Peru.   It was widely assumed that ex-Senator, ex mayor of Detroit, ex-Secretary of the Interior (under Ullyses Grant) Zachariah Chandler would take his seat in the Senate—a seat he’d lost to Christiancy in elections four years earlier.

Christiancy had apparently been offered posts in either Berlin or Lima—he told reporters in early February that though he hadn’t yet made up his mind, he tended to favor the drier climate of Peru to that of Germany.  

“We are led to believe,” quipped a New York Times reporter, ‘that Lima is even a drier spot than the United States Senate Chamber.[1] 

Christiancy formally resigned the senate on February 10, and a new election to fill his seat was scheduled for the following Tuesday.   

Ah, yes, money.  As a Senator, Christiancy was earning $7,500 a year.  As an envoy to Peru, he would earn another $2,500 a year—bringing his total earnings to $10,000.  

[1] A Sanitarian Diplomacy, New York Times, February 8, 1879. 
[2] Senator Christiancy Resigns, ibid., Feb. 11th, 1879.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Isaac P. Christiancy and His Child Bride: There's No Fool like an Old Fool Part I

U.S. Senator (Michigan) Isaac Peckham Christiancy

This is a story that has it all:  Sex.  Politics.  More sex.

It begins with a May-December wedding.

The groom—Isaac Peckham Christiancy—was a sixty-four year old U.S. Senator, ex-state supreme court justice, widow and father of at least seven children.  

The bride—Lillian Lugenbell—was  a pretty, blonde clerk at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, only 20 years old and reportedly prone to bouts of giddiness alternating with depression—and ultimately lunacy.

They married in a small, private ceremony in the house on Indiana Avenue where she had been boarding—which just happened to be the same place where the old Senator resided.  The wedding was witnessed by Fellow Michigan Senator Thomas Ferry and Lillian's friend, Miss Belle Linthicum and officiated by a Reverend Dr. Sunderland. 

The way Lillie told it, their marriage was going swimmingly—at least for the first few minutes.

Galveston (TX) Daily News, Jan. 31, 1877
Let us start at the beginning:

Issac Peckham Christiancy was born in March, 1812, in Johnstown, NY, the son of a New York pioneer who died when Christiancy was only 13.  From then on, young Isaac had to work and support the family; he did so by teaching and studying law. 

He read law and moved to Michigan when he was about 24, where he was admitted to the bar.  From 1841 to 1846, he served as a prosecuting attorney for Monroe County, Michigan.  In 1849, Christiancy was elected to the state senate.  From there, he was elected Chief Justice of the Michigan State Supreme Court.   Biographers credit him with being instrumental in forming the state’s Republican party and with being an outspoken abolitionist.

Birds eye view of the city of Lansing, Michigan 1866. Library of Congress
In November of 1839, he married Miss Elizabeth McCloskey, nine years his junior.  The 1870 census shows him to be a 58-year-old justice, living a respectable family life in Monroe County.  He and Elizabeth had seven children, with total property worth $40,000.  

Elizabeth died in December of 1874 in Lansing.  A year later, the widower was elected a U.S. Senator for the term ending in 1881.   Mr. Christiancy, now 63 years old, went to Washington and took his seat in the Senate on March 4th, 1875.

Lillian M Lugenbeel was born in Alexandria, Virginia on July 30, 1854, to John W. Lugenbeel of Maryland, the son of an immigrant Lugenbühl from Germany and his wife, Mary Francis (nee) Simpson of Virginia. Lillie was the youngest of four siblings:  a brother, French Cross, born in 1849, a teacher, died in Staunton, Va. in 1896 and was buried at Oak Hill Cemetery in Washington, DC; a brother, James, born in 1851, and a sister Bettie, born in 1853. Lillie also had a sister, M. Emma, born in 1850, who died in 1878 at the age of 28. 

Lillie's father had studied at Columbian College, which would later become George Washington University, and graduated in 1841.  There is no record indicating that John W.  fought in the Civil War, but the census of 1860 shows him to be absent from the household.  That year, his wife Mary, his mother-in-law Ann Simpson and the children were living together in the home of  Richard Cross, a well-to-do Alexandria, Va. shoemaker.

Lillian’s family moved at least twice over the next fifteen years, as her father took a variety of jobs.  By 1864, they are living on E Street, North, and Lillian's father is working at the American telegraph company.  By 1870, the family had moved to lower Howard County, Maryland, near the town of Savage, where John was working as a clerk. 

By the winter of 1876, Lillian was 20 and working at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing (BEP), where like so many young women of the age, she hoped to find a husband.

"Lady Clerks Leaving the Treasury Department at Washington," by Alfred Rudolph Waud, a sketch which originally appeared in Harpers Weekly, Harper's Weekly, Feb. 18, 1865, p. 100.

Women had been working  at the BEP since it opened in 1862, at first operating hand-cranked machines that cut and separated bank notes. 

By Lillian's time, women had assumed more complex tasks, operating seal presses, inspecting currency, or assisting printers.

“A notable feature on the streets of the capital is the female Government employees; especially the Treasury girls. They are generally young and of good families – for it takes some influence to get into a department. There are many black sheep among them, however. They get $600 a year which is little when board is hard to get at $30 per month, and an ordinary room costs $20 per month." William Emile Doster, Lincoln and Episodes of the Civil War, page 240.
Vernon Row, 900 block Pennsylvania Avenue, NW, 1871

During the winter recess of 1876, Senator Isaac Christiancy took a room in a boarding house run by bookseller Warren Choate and his English wife, Susan, at 310 Indiana Avenue, NW, adjacent to Judiciary Square.  He brought his youngest son George, then only ten, from Lansing to live with him.  Also boarding there was a pretty young woman named Lillian Lugenbeel.

"'How fond Lillie Lugenbeel is of little George Christiancy!' remarked the ladies of the house. 'It is really touching to watch her kittenish gambols with him, and to watch her sometimes sitting at the Senator's feet!'" - Helena Independent, February 3, 1881

301 Seventh Street, Northwest at Indiana Avenue & C Street, Washington, District of Columbia, DC


The 64-year-old gentleman clearly found her as lovely and charming as did everyone else in the house and he told Lillian that if he were a younger man, he would “pay her attention.”

Lillian wrote him a letter claiming that she took his compliment to be a marriage proposal. 

Alarmed, perhaps even horrified, Christiancy tried to talk her out of marriage, owing to the discrepancy in their ages. Or so he later claimed.
“I was led into it by her skillfully turning what was intended as a mere compliment to her into a proposition for marriage, which, at the first moment, I suspected that she intended to misconstrue into such a proposition, I promptly apologized for, when she as promptly declared her wish that I should marry her, to which I did not assent until after I had honestly and earnestly, on several different occasions, endeavored to convince her of the unfitness of such a marriage, on account of the difference in our respective ages, but I finally yielded to her solicitations upon her repeated assurances that she loved me better than any other man..." Atchinson Kansas Globe, January 15, 1881.
And so they were married on February 8, 1876, a few weeks after meeting, in a small ceremony in the boarding house where they both resided; Reverend Byron Sunderland officiated.  Fellow Michigan Senator, the much-younger and much more attractive Thomas W. Ferry stood as best man, and one of Lillie’s girlfriends as maid of honor.  The couple set forth on a honeymoon in New York.

Rosine et le Docteur. 1876. Etching. Published in Paris à l'eau-forte

To be continued...
© Cecily Hilleary, 2013

Friday, May 25, 2012

Noah E. Sedgwick: A Black Cop in DC's Gilded Age

March 17th, 1892:

34-year-old Noah E. Sedgwick dipped his pen in ink and began a letter to John W. Ross, Commissioner of the District of Columbia:
Dr. Sir, I have the honor to make application for a patrol driver or the like under your branch of the District Government. I will faithfully discharge the duties assigned me. Your obedient Servnt, Noah Sedwick.
A month later, Sedgwick once again took up his pen and filled out an application for appointment to the Metropolitan Police Department.
13. Have you ever been indicted and convicted of any crime?   Have not.
14. Are you addicted to the use of intoxicating liquors, morphine or opium?  Not.
15. Have you ever been addicted to the use of any of these articles?   No.
16. When did you last drink intoxicating liquors?   March 11th, 92.
The application even asked whether Sedgwick suffered from piles or rheumatism, but it did not ask him his race.

Sedgwick attached to his application endorsements from some of Georgetown’s most prominent businessmen:  Lumber merchant Samuel E. Wheatley; Frederick L. Moore, who owned an agricultural warehouse; Druggist William D. Brace; N Street physician, Dr. Henderson Suter; George T. Dunlop; and about a dozen others, all of whom agreed that the former schoolteacher and waiter Noah E. Sedgwick was cheerful, hard-working, and honest.

From his application, we know that Sedgwick was born on August 5, 1858 in Montgomery County, Md., just four years before the institution of slavery was abolished, and was a resident of Georgetown, D.C.

We know that his father had earlier died of typhoid fever and that Noah was now supporting a family of four—his mother may have been among them.

Noah may have been the son of Richard Sedgwick, born about 1845 in Berry’s District (just northeast of Wheaton) Montgomery County, who later moved to Georgetown, D.C.

In 1874, as the June 13 Evening Star noted, Noah received his diploma from the Georgetown Grammar School No. 1, housed in the Chamberlain School, a small frame building on East Street--now, East Place--in the African American section of Georgetown referred to as "Herring Hill."  He was 15.

On November 19, 1878, Noah was licensed to marry Emma L. Senkfield in Georgetown, and by 1880, the couple were living in Cracklin, Maryland (before it was incorporated in 1892, Laytonsville in Montgomery County was called Cracklinville, sometimes Cracklintown, after the popular Cracklin bread, which was baked in a local tavern. After awhile, the entire district around the area was nicknamed “Cracklin.”).  He was listed as a school teacher.

Grifton School, courtesy Sandy Spring Museum
Nina Clarke and Lillian Brown's History of the Black Public Schools of Montgomery County, Md: 1872-1961 show that in 1880, Noah taught at the tiny Grifton school on Mt. Zion road, halfway between Laytonsville and Sandy Spring, Md., which had been built four years earlier.

A year later, he was teaching at the Emory school in the black settlement of Emory Grove, near Gaithersburg, Md.  Emory Grove had, since the mid 1800's, been the site of a black Methodist camp meeting that predated the white meeting site at Washington Grove.  Camp meetings, usually held in late summer, gathered together Methodist and non-Methodist Christians for several days of preaching, prayer, bible study and socializing--and baptisms.

By 1883, as the chart below shows, he had an average of 35 pupils enrolled for at least three terms of the year.  This number fell in summer, when children were needed at home to help with farming.  That year, he was paid $172.41--based on enrollment.

It is assumed that Noah's wife Emma died sometime before 1883, which was the year he married his second wife, Mary.  The same year, Mary gave birth to the couple's first son, William.  Records show that they were still living in Maryland at the time of his birth.

According to the Washington Bee, Noah taught school in Virginia for some time.

By the late 1880s, Noah was living in Georgetown, where he worked over the next few years alternately as a cook, laborer, teacher and waiter. At the time of his application to the DC police force, he was both living and working at Charles Field’s Saloon at 3004 M Street (where the Latham Hotel now stands), supporting a family of four.

On August 1, Sedgwick was accepted onto the Metropolitan Police Force and appointed a Private, Class 1 D.C. Police Officer and was assigned to the 9th District in Northeast (pictured in 1894, below.  Sedgwick is standing, second to right figure in the back row).

It is not difficult to imagine his feelings as he donned the private’s uniform for the first time: It was single-breasted blue “frock”--or long jacket--ending two inches above the knee, with a single row of nine buttons extending up to a stand-up collar. Sedgwick’s trousers would have had two pockets behind and two in the front: One of these was a regulation five inches wide, seven inches deep and lined with chamois or buckskin, to accommodate his firearm. Lastly, he would have pinned the final symbol of his authority, Badge 379.

Sedgwick was hired at a salary of $900 a year—that is, $75 a month, a very decent salary in the last decade of the 19th century. He had no way of knowing that his time on the force would be limited and that like black officers in departments across the country, white officers would watch his every movement, looking for an excuse to let him go.

Left, abandoned 9th Precinct Building today
© Cecily Hilleary, 2010
The District of Columbia had always had some type of police presence. In the first half of the 19th century, the force consisted of only a handful of constables who kept watch and enforced the laws of the fledgling capital. After the outbreak of the Civil War, however, the safety of the Federal City became a greater concern. Congress officially established the Metropolitan Police Department (hereafter, MPD) on August 6, 1861.

In July, 1869, the MPD accepted its first black officers, Charles C. Tillman and Calvin C. Caruthers. This was not to satisfy any concerns about equal opportunity; this was purely because black cops would be “convenient” to walk the streets of black neighborhoods.

Racial tensions were high in Washington as in nearly every urban center as blacks came to terms with the reality that emancipation was not the same as political freedom. White officers were prone to the use of excessive force when dealing with blacks—and those blacks who tried to challenge the system were met with resistance, if not violent reprisals.

White residents blamed blacks for rising crime and asked the city to hire more police (from 1866 to 1880, the police force employed only 200 officers; differing shifts meant that at best, there were only about 125 stretched over a territory 75 square miles). It was hoped that black residents could better identify with black officers.

Tillman and Caruthers faced considerable opposition within the MPD. One white officer, Samuel H. Ellis, refused to work with a black man and was dismissed. He was later pardoned and reinstated. Some black residents would have resented the two, seeing them as agents of white authority and oppression.

It would be difficult to find statistics on how many black officers served at any one time in Washington—histories of the police force do not provide statistics, nor do service records.

What is certain is that they remained the minority: 1890, there were over 74,600 police-and firemen in the United States; only about 2,000 were African American. Another certainty is that a black man never served on the force for long: In 1879, only a single black officer remained of the previous 50 black officers hired.

In Washington as in cities across the U.S., 19th Century black officers would never be assigned to white neighborhoods, and certainly any attempt by a black policeman to enforce the law upon whites would have generated resentment, if not all-out retaliation—never mind the legendary arrest of Ulysses S. Grant by a black officer who did not recognize the President. Grant had been racing his horse buggy at a breakneck clip through the streets of Washington. After the officer impounded both buggy and horse, the president cheerfully commended him on his work and walked back to the White House. Or so the story goes.

Black officers, not surprisingly, were subjected to severe discrimination by both the department and fellow officers: They were given the most undesirable shifts and beats, were passed over for promotions, and in many cases actively driven from their jobs.

Sedgwick’s beat was vast:  It ran from Twelfth Street N.E. to the Eastern branch of the Potomac River and from North Capitol Street all the way to F Street N.E. He does not appear to have worked with a partner, but it is clear that white officers kept a close eye on his comings and goings.

Like other policemen, he was in charge of keeping law and order on his beat. This did not simply amount to chasing criminals. More often than not, it was mundane work: helping the homeless, searching for lost children, returning stray livestock to rightful owners, checking doors and escorting the inebriated back to their families.

Sedgwick distinguished himself in at least two sensational cases: In May, 1894, he made the newspapers by arresting the so-called “Candy Man,” a 40-year-old German pedophile named Henry Windelberg, tried to lure two young girls away from Lincoln Park by promising them candy.

A year later, Sedgwick went unassisted to investigate the unreported death of an elderly woman at “Aunt” Hetty Green’s, a notorious “cook shop” (saloon) and brothel at the corner of 17th and B Streets, N.E. (today’s Constitution Avenue). He found a large group of men holding a “wake” over the woman’s body.

This in itself was not an unusual practice among the city’s poor residents; funerals were often conducted in alleys and neighborhood streets, where family members took up collections to pay for a coffin and other funeral expenses.

However, the men gathered at Green’s saloon this particular evening were drunk and made a huge racket singing “indecent” songs. Sedgwick ordered them to disperse, and they did—that is, all but one, who sneered and challenged Sedgwick’s authority.

“What are you afraid of?” the man called out to the others and he cursed “that there man in brass buttons.” In no time, a crowd began to surround Sedgwick, and when he tried to arrest the instigator, as many as thirty men attacked him.

Sedgwick fought bravely. In fact, said the Post, the only way he escaped with his life was with the “free use” of his nightstick. Somehow, Sedgwick got away--cut, bruised and missing both a tooth and his police badge.

These and other examples of Sedgwick’s diligence and bravery are not noted in his service record.

The Washington Bee ran an editorial in October, 1895 (above), urging that Sedgwick be promoted to sergeant:
"He is one of the most feared officers in the east and one of the most respected among all classes. So well has he done his duty that the citizens in the northeast, especially the white property owners, want him promoted to a sergeant. There is no reason why Officer Sedgwick cannot be promoted to a sergeant. He is competent, and there is
nothing that can prevent his promotion except his color, and it is not believed that the color prejudice will be strong enough to prevent his superior officers from promoting him to the position the people want him to fill.

Officer Sedgwick is a man of family. His wife is a very interesting and pleasant young woman. His boy is about 14 years old and attends the public schools of this city. He loves his family and is a good provider.

The Bee joins in with the people and recommends to Lieut. Heffner and Major,
Moore, who have no prejudice on account of color, to appoint Sedgwick sergeant at the next vacancy."
Noah's personnel file also contains a series write-ups, complaints and charges of neglect of duty, each of which resulted in $5-10 fines—and recommendations that he be released from the force.

Sedgwick was not the first—and would not be the last—cop, white or black, to be charged with misconduct. Browsing service records and newspaper accounts, officers seemed to spend as much time as possible finding ways to break the rules and avoid the sharp eyes of 9th Precinct House Inspector Isaac Pearson. “Uncle Ike,” as he was called, was a Civil War and Navy veteran noted for his toughness. His job was not only to inspect the officers, as his title suggested, but to prowl their beats to ensure that his officers did not stray from duty.

The most common offenses were “hoodling”—that is, the practice whereby one partner would keep lookout while the other napped, consorting with hookers and drinking on duty. Every corner had its saloon, and all a man in blue had to do was tap on a window, and a glass of whiskey or beer would be passed to him.
On October 19th, 1892, Sedgwick was up before the Trial Committee for the first time:
That said Noah E. Sedgwick, a private of Class 1 in the Metropolitan Police Force D.C., while on duty on or about the 10th day of October, 1892, did leave his beat and enter grocery and liquor store kept by John T. Cheshire, No., 1168 20th Street, N.W.
Sedgwick pled guilty and gave several excuses which were rather lame. He was fined $10, half of which was to be paid in November and the other half in December.

Sedgwick was tried for neglect of duty again in August, 1893. Both he and a new white recruit, D.M. Reidy, were accused of having failed to patrol their beats between 3:50 and 4:20 A.M. Both men pled guilty and were fined $10, payable in two installments. No further details were noted. It can only be presumed that one of them caught a half-hour nap while the other kept guard. Figuring out who did which is a matter for guesswork. Sedgwick promised it would never happen again.

Some sort of charges were pending against Sedgwick in May, 1895--which prompted a Mr. A.S. Richardson to write a letter to DC Commissioner George Truesdell in support of the officer:
Dear Sir:  I understand that there are charges against Noah Sedgwick, a policeman within whose beat I reside and whom I have known some years.  I beg to say a word in his behalf or rather to suggest that from my observation and knowledge of him he is a very efficient officer and a man of strictly temperate life.  He is popular and well liked and any consideration extended to him will meet the approval of the citizens in this section.
Trusting that you will excuse this, perhaps seeming trespass, I am, very respectfully yours...
On July 3, 1895, Sedgwick once again went before the DC Board of Commissioners:
That N.E. Sedgwick, a private of Class 1 in the Metropolitan Police Force, D. of C., did, on or about the 25th day of June, 1895, at or about the hour of 10:40 p.m. enter a bar room premises situate [sic] on B between 13th and 14th streets, N.W., and remain therein three minutes. This while on duty.
This case would have been thrown out of any modern trial room. Sedgwick left his beat to use a privy located in an alley stable, which happened to be situated a few yards behind a saloon. Uncle Ike Pearson had observed the entire thing from the street and was the first to testify against Sedgwick:
Q: Inspector, state what your knowledge is concerning this case.
A: On the evening in question, I saw Mr. Sedgwick enter these premises and remain in there about three minutes, and then come out.
Q: What premises were they?
A: B Street [Constitution Avenue] between 13th and 14th North-east.
Q: What kind of premises?
A: Bar room premises.
Q: Did he enter the bar room proper?
A: No, sir; he entered through the alley, through a stable.
Q: Was he gone from your view long enough to have gone to the bar room?
A: Yes, sir.
Well, no, admitted Pearson, when pressed, he didn’t exactly see Sedgwick go into the bar. He saw him enter the premises.
Q: Did you discover any fumes of liquor on his breath?
A: I thought I did at one time; one time I got pretty close to him, I thought I smelled liquor, but he got away from me every time I got close to him; he would step away, back away…
Q: What excuse, if any, did he give for entering the place?
A: Said he went in there to urinate.
Q: Was there any other place in the vicinity where he could have gone that was not a bar room premises, for this purpose?
A: This was an alley, a very dark alley, and there was a cart in this alley where no one could have seen him…
Q: Suppose, Lieutenant, instead of urinating in the stable he had gone to a privy, and found a man there, and had to wait a minute or two, you would not have reported him?
A: No, sir; if he had gone there, and a man was in there, and Mr. Sedgwick had to wait there a few minutes, and I knew that he went in there for the purpose of urinating, and there was no other place for him to go, I would not have reported him, but there were other places to urinate, but he selected this place to urinate, and also that I had a complaint that he went there every evening on duty to drink.
In what had to be an excruciatingly embarrassing experience, Sedgwick desribed how he had entered the stable from the alley and found the privy occupied.  Unwilling or unable to wait any longer, he said he had stepped out into the yard between the stable and the saloon and urinated there.  
 Q: What did you go in there for?
A: To urinate.
Q: Is that or not a part of the bar room premises?
A: I would not consider it so.
Q: What premises are the?
A: Mr. Callahan has charge of that stable; he rents that stable.
Q: Was it on your beat?
A: Yes, sir.
Q: And you don’t think you were in there three minutes?
A: No, sir, I don’t.
Q: The Lieutenant thinks you might have secreted yourself in some other place than in that water closet to urinate, how about that? Do you know of any other place?
A: Yes, sir, the whole commons is wide open.
The privy occupant, Mr. William Clayton, supported Sedgwick’s testimony; in fact, he said, Sedgwick had inadvertently opened the door on Clayton, and exchanged brief words with the man. Clayton could hear Sedgwick urinating outside.

In addition, the bartender, A. W. Clark, testified that Sedgwick had never entered the bar room nor had any drinks delivered to him in the yard.

In spite of all the testimony in his favor, the trial committee found Sedgwick guilty of a neglect of duty and fined him $5, due on or before August 5th.

To be continued...

© Cecily Hilleary, 2010

Photos of Ninth Police District and detail of Noah Sedgwick from:  Young, J. Russell and Feeney, James L., The Metropolitan Police Department:  An Official Illustrated History.  Washington D.C., Lawrence Publishing Co., 1908.

Washington DC Police and Fire Precinct Map arranged by Richard Sylvester, from Report of the Commissioners of the District of Columbia [1898], courtesy Historical Society of Washington, D.C.
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