Policewomen

Policewomen

The history of women in the New York City Police Department is long and heroic. Female officers had to fight for the right to stand shoulder to shoulder with their male colleagues. In honor of Women’s History Month, For the Record celebrates two trailblazers for women’s equality within the ranks of the NYPD. The story of how officers Felicia Shpritzer and Gertrude Schimmel broke through the glass ceiling by demanding the right for women to earn a promotion is one of determination and grit that still has the power to inspire more than sixty years after they took their first stand.


Brief History of Women and the NYPD

Letter from NYPD clerk to Mayor Hugh Grant, regarding Mary Dolan, May 28, 1891. Early Mayor’s Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1845, at the urging of women’s social groups such as The Women’s Christian Temperance Union, the New York Police Department hired women as police matrons to improve the treatment of females and children in police custody. In 1888, State legislation permitted female police matrons to work in station houses. New York City hired the first four matrons in 1891.

By the early 1900s, some matrons were allowed to work with the detective squads and conduct undercover investigations. Unlike their male counterparts who could be promoted to the detective squad and were paid $2,500 annually, women could not advance past the matron rank, at a salary of $1,000 per year. In 1912, Isabella Goodwin, a matron for more than ten years, finally earned the title of first-grade detective after her undercover work to crack the case of Eddie “the Boob” Kinsman and the Taxi Cab Bandits. She was the first woman in the United States to hold such rank.

Unidentified plainclothes detective and Det. Isabella Goodwin, ca. 1915. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Unidentified police matron, most likely in the Women’s Motor Corp, ca. 1918. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

During World War I, the Police Department established a non-civil service Women’s Police Reserve. On May 16, 1918, nearly 5,000 volunteers arrived at Speedway Park in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, to begin their training. The Department’s 1918 annual report stated that the women were tasked with “discovering unlawful conditions, teaching patriotism and aiding in the Americanization of the alien element of our city, reporting conditions of disloyalty and sedition and aiding the weak.”

Drilling the Women’s Police Reserve for an emergency, ca. 1918. NYPD Annual Report, 1918, NYC Municipal Library.

Instructing members of the Women’s Motor Corps in the use of the fire arm, ca. 1918. NYPD Annual Report, 1918, NYC Municipal Library.

NYPD Women’s Ambulance Corps, ca. 1918. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The 1920s and '30s saw the introduction of the first Black women to the department, the formation of a short-lived Women’s Police Precinct, and later, the Women’s Bureau where most female officers would be stationed until it was abolished in 1972.

During the latter half of the 1930s, opportunities for women improved. Men and women could not train together in police academy classes until 1958, but beginning in 1934, they could participate in pistol practice with male trainees. In 1938, the Department administered the first civil-service exam for the title “Policewoman.” In addition to passing the exam, female candidates were required to hold a college degree while men only needed the exam and a high school diploma or proof of military service.

Probationary Policewomen taking oath of office at Headquarters, March 9, 1939. Municipal Archives Collection.

From left: Detective Mary Sullivan, Mayor LaGuardia, and Paul J. Kern of the Civil Service Commission watch as NYPD Commissioner Valentine addresses a room of probationary policewomen and men at headquarters, March 9, 1939. Municipal Archives Collection.

Twenty Policewomen graduates salute at City Hall Plaza (in pouring rain), April 1939. Municipal Archives Collection. Policewomen were issued a black shoulder bag filled with their gun as well as a tube of red lipstick and powder compact. (Mayor Fiorello H. La Guardia is quoted as saying “Use the gun as you would your lipstick, don’t overdo either one.”)


The Glass Ceiling Breakers

Gertrude Schimmel and Felicia Shpritzer began their training with the NYPD in 1940 and 1942, respectively, with Schimmel earning the prestigious Police Inspector’s Trophy for excellence in her class at the academy. Like most women, after graduating Schimmel and Shpritzer were assigned to the Bureau of Policewomen. In their early years with the department, both women worked in the Juvenile Aid Division, which found temporary shelter for children whose parents were unable to care for them. At that time, female officers could not be promoted above the entry-level post of policewoman, or go out on patrol; most women could expect to spend their entire career working in an office setting at the Bureau.

Swearing-in of Probationary Policewomen at Court of Peace, World’s Fair, June 1940. Municipal Archives Collection.

Mayor LaGuardia shaking hands with Probationary Policewoman Gertrude Schimmel, winner of the Chief Inspector’s Trophy, Madison Square Garden, September 26, 1940. Mayor LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Female cadet demonstrating self-defense techniques at the Police Academy show at the New York World’s Fair, June 28, 1940. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Felicia Shpritzer had served almost 20 years as a policewoman in 1961 when she and five other women applied to take the promotion test for sergeant. They knew the exam was not officially open to policewomen. Two weeks before the test was held, all six women’s applications were rejected. Despite their years of service, Police Commissioner Michael J. Murphy maintained that women lacked the physical strength and endurance to be sergeants.

Shpritzer sued the city’s Department of Personnel, arguing that to deny policewomen the opportunity to become sergeants was “discriminatory, archaic and illegal.” Taking the battle all the way to the New York State Court of Appeals, Shpritzer won the case in June 1963. As a result, 126 policewomen took the sergeant’s exam for the first time in April 1964. After the exam, Policewoman Shpritzer told the New York Times, “Pass or fail, I will never regret having made the opportunity available to women.” Of the test-takers, only Shpritzer and Gertrude Schimmel passed. They became New York City’s first two female sergeants on March 13, 1965.

In their new roles, the sergeants alternated supervising about 160 policewomen. In an article titled “The Police Give In, Name Two Women Sergeants,” the New York Times quoted Commissioner Murphy as saying “This day marks a significant milestone in our department’s history—the emergence of our policewomen from our ranks. For the first time two of our policewomen will wear three stripes. We welcome them and wish them well.” The article concluded by stating that no policemen would be supervised by women.

The two women didn’t stop there. In 1966 they took and passed the lieutenant’s exam and were promoted the following year. Felicia Shpritzer would remain in the title until she retired in 1977, while Gertrude Schimmel continued to make gains for women’s equality in the NYPD. On August 26, 1971, the 51st anniversary of women’s suffrage, Gertrude Schimmel became the department’s first female captain. At her swearing-in ceremony, Schimmel stated that it was Felicia Shpritzer who won the landmark case and that she should be the one receiving the praise.

In her new position, Schimmel helped lay the groundwork for assigning women to street patrols and radio cars. Again, there was pushback on expanding the roles of female officers. This time, the Patrolmen’s Benevolent Association and wives of some officers maintained that women were not capable of providing adequate backup for their male partners. Schimmel, now in a command position would have none of it. When she spoke to the Times in November 1974, she said “nothing is factual, it’s all emotional.”

In 1978, Gertrude Schimmel was promoted to deputy chief and served as commander of the Community Affairs unit until she retired in 1981. When she left, she expressed no regrets, but did wish that she had been able to take part in the kind of police work that has become routine for women today. She said that she “never answered a call on the radio and ran up five flights of stairs and called the ambulance. When I was starting in the department, women didn’t do that. And by the time they did it, I was already promoted. I’m sorry I missed that, but you can’t have everything, right?”

Historic District Attorney Records Capture Policewomen’s Undercover Exploits

Amongst the historical records of the New York (Manhattan) District Attorney’s office held at the Municipal Archives are the indictment files from 1916 to 1925 relating to a range of felonies; abandonment, assault, burglary, forgery, murder, rape, and numerous other criminal offenses. Some files hold only an affidavit, listing the circumstances of the case and demographics of the arrestee on bright blue card. Others consist of hundreds of pages of typed witness testimony, handwritten letters from the accused, postmarked lawyerly correspondence, notes scrawled by the district attorney, and—in one case I encountered—physical evidence from the crime scene. As such, the collection captures the work of a variety of public and private organizations, in addition to the voices of New Yorkers from all sections of society.

Curious about the history of gender and healthcare, I consulted files relating to abortion, which was illegal in New York State between 1829 and 1970. I had hoped that these records might tell me about the lives of the women that sought abortions one hundred years ago and how they came to be entangled in the criminal justice system.  

Affidavit listing the “deponent” as police officer Brady and the circumstances of the investigation, Ada Brady v Mollie Weiser. NYDA Closed Case Files, 1917. NYC Municipal Archives.

When scrutinizing these affidavits, I noticed the same name—“Ada Brady”—repeated as the “deponent” in a number of cases in the Spring of 1917. This surprised me. We might expect the same “defendant,” accused of performing an abortion, to reappear as practitioners were arrested, released, and then rearrested. However, it seemed unusual for a woman to give evidence for having abortions on multiple occasions within a matter of months. Upon closer inspection, it emerged that Ada Brady was in fact a police officer, a member of the New York Police Department’s first generation of female investigators. Officer Brady approached suspected practitioners and pretended to be pregnant in order to furnish the evidence for prosecution.

Abortionists office, 1927, NYPD Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Abortionists office, 1927, NYPD Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Women entered the New York City police force in the 1890s to work as ‘matrons,’ assigned to manage female arrestees and maintain the stationhouse environment. These women worked long shifts during the day and overnight completing this laborious work. Because of this, matrons tended to be working-class women and often widows. By the 1910s, a number of ambitious matrons—including Ada Brady and Isabella Goodwin, who would later become the first female detective in the United States—had begun to assist male colleagues on investigations by going undercover. They specialized in cases affecting women, such as fortune tellers, irregular medical practitioners, and confidence tricksters.

Defendant Mollie Wieser’s plea statement. Ada Brady v. Mollie Wieser. NYDA Closed Case Files, 1917. NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1913, a team of matrons-turned-detectives formed “Special Squad Number Two” to investigate vice, under the direction of Lieutenant “Honest Dan” Costigan. For these female officers, abortion cases led to newspaper renown, promotions, and honor roll commendations. But policewomen were also vulnerable to exploitation within the male world of policing. To reach the evidentiary bar of intent, plainclothes policewoman underwent a pelvic exam, as the affidavit reported “[the defendant] then inserted into the deponent’s private parts a speculum.” File after file relayed this same practice. In abortion investigations a female police officer submitted to this intimate, invasive procedure in the line of duty.

Not only did abortion investigations implicate their bodies, but lawyers and judges in the Court of General Sessions trials questioned policewomen’s personal reputations; whether they were married, how many children they had, and their character. The first woman to serve as Deputy Police Commissioner, Ellen O’Grady, described the practice as “dangerous and…degrading,” as “the female representing the Police Department was forced to voluntarily participate in the commission of a crime, and became, consequently, an accessory.” 

Policewomen’s work also affected more marginalized women. Few abortion investigations targeted the affluent white doctors and their elite clientele, but rather, police focused on midwives from central, southern, and eastern Europe. Practitioners like Mollie Wieser are typical; an Austrian midwife, she provided crucial healthcare for New York’s working-class, immigrant populations. Even though most midwives avoided prison, they endured lengthy investigations, fines, equipment seizures, and news of their arrest splashed across the thriving daily press.

Letter from defendant Elizabeth Bayer to District Attorney Edward Swann, NYDA Closed Case Files, 1917. NYC Municipal Archives

Midwives did not accept the state’s efforts to criminalize their practice, however. Elizabeth Bayer, a sixty-nine-year-old German midwife accused of abortion by Ada Brady, wrote to the District Attorney protesting her innocence. She explained that she was “33 years a midwife with a perfect record and could not have possibly committed the crime.” Attempting to use the legal system to her advantage, she offered to “waive immunity” to appear before the grand jury and “tell them my story.” Alongside narratives of police control, we hear the voices of resistance. 

As part of a National Endowment for the Humanities grant, the Municipal Archives indexed and re-housed more than 41,000 indictment files dating from 1916 to 1925. The histories of policewomen’s undercover abortion investigations were captured in just 34 of these files. Without a doubt, the collection contains further lessons about how power, policing, and punishment operated in the early-twentieth-century metropole. The importance of these perspectives is evident in Dr. Mara Keire’s current research project, Under the Boardwalk: Rape in New York, 1900-1930, that draws upon an examination of more than two-thousand rape indictments. These files record the lives of marginalized populations, often silenced in the historical record. Poor New Yorkers, women, immigrants, queer residents, and people of color, whose lives might have evaded contemporary published material but whose voices appear—albeit refracted through the judicial system—in these archives.


Elizabeth Evens is a PhD candidate at University College London, U.K., where she researches the regulatory work of the first women in medicine and law enforcement.

The Municipal Archives collections of records pertaining to the administration of criminal justice constitute one of the most extensive research resources on the subject in North America. They currently total more than 20,000 cubic feet, and date from 1684 through 1980s. Major series include: Minutes of the New York Court of General Sessions, 1684-1920; Felony (a.k.a. New York District Attorney) indictments, 1790-1895; Dismissed New York felony indictments, 1844-1900; New York District Attorney Closed Case files, 1896-1984; Police and Magistrate Court docket books (all Boroughs), 1790-1949; New York District Attorney’s newspaper clipping scrapbooks, 1881-1937; New York District Attorney's official correspondence (letter press volumes), 1881-1937.