Once Upon a Time in New York
Page 1
Praise for Once upon a Time in New York
“Mitgang’s extensive use of newspaper quotes and legal transcripts helps paint vivid portraits of Walker, Roosevelt, and the large cast of characters who played a part in Walker’s fall from grace and Roosevelt’s meteoric rise to four-term president.”
—Associated Press
“A wonderful, rollicking book. . . . Mitgang shows not only his knack for anecdote but his talent for sweeping narrative.”
—TERRY GOLMAN, New York Observer, author of So Others
Might Live: A History of New York’s Bravest—
The FDNY from 1700 to the Present
“With its characteristic brio and fastidious scholarship as well as a rich and fascinating cast of characters, Mitgang has brilliantly recreated an important episode in both the Franklin Roosevelt saga and American political history.”
—MICHAEL BESCHLOSS, author of The Conquerors: Roosevelt, Truman, and the Destruction of Hitler’s Germany, 1941–1945 and
Kennedy and Roosevelt: The Uneasy Alliance
“This tale has everything—gamblers and gangsters, murders and mistresses, and a genuinely fateful confrontation between a gloriously corrupt mayor and the canny patrician who became the greatest president of the twentieth century. And it is told by a master reporter with all the verve and color it deserves.”
—GEOFFREY C. WARD, author of The Civil War: An Illustrated History, Jazz: A History of America’s Music, and Before the Trumpet:
Young Franklin Roosevelt 1882–1905
“A flavorful account of New York City politics during the 1920s Jazz Age centering around the city’s popular night mayor, Jimmy Walker, and the state’s patrician governor, Franklin D. Roosevelt. . . . Recommended.”
—Library Journal
“Mitgang, a veteran New York Times reporter, makes good use of news clippings and the official records to document the tale of Walker’s undoing.”
—Business Week
“No one knows the underbelly and closed doors of prohibition-era New York politics so well as Herbert Mitgang. Once upon a Time in New York tells a gamy and unusual story.”
—JUSTINE KAPLAN, author of Mr. Clemens and Mark Twain: A Biography
“A lively account that utilizes everything from song lyrics to newspaper headlines and editorials to transcripts of the hearings.”
—Booklist
“Beginning with an account of the murder of Arnold Rothstein, the gambler whose larger-than-life personality symbolized the wide-open nature of Prohibition-era New York, the book moves fluidly through the precincts of the city, presenting in thumbnail fashion both a history of the Tammany organization and a mini-biography of Jimmy Walker himself. In keeping with the personality of Walker, his protagonist, Mitgang keeps his writing light and breezy—making Once upon a Time in New York a popular history.”
—DAVID ULIN, Newsday, editor of Another City:
Writing from Los Angeles
“As the Roaring Twenties gave way to the Great Depression, Governor Franklin D. Roosevelt, Mayor Jimmy ‘Beau James’ Walker, and Tammany Hall waged a political war for control of the greatest city in the world. One contestant went into exile, and the other moved into the White House. It is a marvelous story, and no one could tell it better than Mitgang.”
—KENNETH T. JACKSON, editor in chief of
The Encyclopedia of New York City
“A wistful yet bracing amalgam of journalism, political science, sociology, and drama. As the title suggests, Mitgang takes a forgotten political feud from the last century and turns it into an uproarious and enlightening tale of New York in the final years of the Roaring Twenties and the first years of the Great Depression. . . . Mitgang cloaks his research and snappy prose as he follows the headline-making investigation. This lively chronicle of Walker’s public demise nevertheless maintains an affectionate tone. . . . Mitgang delivers some sharp social insight, but he never forgets that scandal makes good narrative. Mitgang has the authority of a historian, the insight of a journalist, the flair of a born storyteller, and the charm of a man in love with his city and its history. . . . A robust portrait [and] lively chronicle . . . delivered with sharp social insight.”
—Publishers Weekly
ONCE UPON A TIME IN
New York
Jimmy Walker,
Franklin Roosevelt,
and the Last Great Battle
of the Jazz Age
Herbert Mitgang
First Cooper Square Press edition 2003
This Cooper Square Press paperback edition of Once upon a Time in New York is an unabridged republication of the edition first published in New York in 2000. It is reprinted by arrangement with the author and with The Free Press, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
Copyright © 2000 by Herbert Mitgang
Designed by Kim Llewellyn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review.
Published by Cooper Square Press
A Member of the Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group
200 Park Avenue South, Suite 1109
New York, New York 10003-1503
www.coopersquarepress.com
Distributed by National Book Network
A previous edition of this book was cataloged by the Library of Congress as follows:
Mitgang, Herbert.
Once upon a time in New York : Jimmy Walker, Franklin Roosevelt, and the last great battle of the Jazz Age / Herbert Mitgang.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
1. Walker, James John, 1881–1946. 2. New York (N.Y.)—Politics and government—1898–1951. 3. Roosevelt, Franklin D. (Franklin Delano), 1882–1945. 4. Political corruption—New York (State)—New York—History—20th century. 5. Corruption investigation—New York
(State)—New York—History—20th century. 6. Tammany Hall.
7. Walker, James John, 1881-1946—Friends and associates.
8. Mayors—New York (State)—New York Biography. 9. Governors—New York (State) Biography. I. Title.
F128.5.M73 2000 99-16631 CIP
974.7'104'0922—dc21
[B]
ISBN: 978-0-8154-1263-2
The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.
Manufactured in the United States of America.
For my parents,
Benjamin and Florence Mitgang
I’d rather be a lamppost in New York City than Mayor of Chicago.
—JAMES J. WALKER
The old gay Mayor, he ain’t what he used to be.
—FRANKLIN P. ADAMS
I’m a Democrat still. Very still.
—ALFRED E. SMITH
If you were any dumber, I’d make you a commissioner.
—FIORELLO H. LA GUARDIA
All life is nine to five against.
—DAMON RUNYON
There is nothing I love so much as a good fight.
—FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT
Contents
Cast of Characters
Prologue: That Was a Time. . . .
1 A Bullet for Big Arnie
2 The Boozy Era
3 The Gang’s All Here
4 Night Mayor of New York
5 Lullaby of Broadway
6 Hares and Hounds
7 The Tin Box Brigade
8 Ring Around the Rackets
9 Lit
tle Boy Blue Blows His Horn
10 F.D.R. vs. the Boy Friend
11 F.D.R., Esq.—Judge and Jury
12 The Knave of Hearts
13 “Jimmy, You Brightened Up the Joint!”
Epilogue: A New Political Era
A Note on Sources
Acknowledgments
Index
Cast of Characters
JAMES J. WALKER
Mayor of the City of New York.
FRANKLIN DELANO ROOSEVELT
Governor of New York State during Walker hearings, Democratic presidential candidate.
FIORELLO “LITTLE FLOWER” H. LA GUARDIA
Ex-congressman, the New York mayor who defeated Tammany Hall’s hacks.
ALFRED E. SMITH
Ex-governor of New York, defeated presidential candidate, Tammany elder statesman.
SAMUEL SEABURY
Former State Supreme Court judge, chief counsel investigating Mayor Walker and citywide corruption.
BETTY “MONK” COMPTON
Jimmy Walker’s mistress, Broadway musical comedy actress.
HON. THOMAS “TIN BOX” FARLEY
Sheriff of New York County, Tammany Hall Sachem.
HON. JAMES “JESSE JAMES” MCQUADE
Sheriff of Kings County, Tammany Hall Sachem.
JOHN F. CURRY
Former sewer inspector, Chief Sachem of Tammany Hall.
ARNOLD ROTHSTEIN
New York City’s gambling czar, murdered.
JOSEPH F. CRATER
State Supreme Court Justice, disappeared, whereabouts unknown.
MISS POLLY ADLER
New York City’s foremost vice “entrepreneuse.”
THOMAS C. T. CRAIN
District attorney of New York County, under investigation for incompetence.
JANET ALLEN “ALLIE” WALKER
Jimmy Walker’s loyal wife.
JOHN “RED MIKE” HYLAN
Ex-mayor, Tammany loyalist, judge of the Children’s Court of Queens County.
PAUL BLOCK
Wealthy owner of the Brooklyn Standard-Union, source of a secret brokerage account shared with Mayor Walker.
GROVER A. WHALEN
Official greeter, police commissioner.
Prologue
That Was a Time. . . .
After a late dinner in their Manhattan hideaway on a star-kissed night in the autumn of 1928, Mayor James J. Walker and his showgirl mistress, Betty Compton, motored to Westchester in his chauffeured, silver-trimmed Duesenberg to hear Vincent Lopez’s orchestra play dance tunes at Joe Pani’s Woodmansten Inn. The nightclub was a favorite hangout for respectable suburbanites, revelers from New York City carrying their own silver flasks of Prohibition whisky, and members of the underworld and their women, some of whom were rumored to be their wives.
That evening Betty was in high spirits. She turned to Lopez and said, “I feel like Cinderella.” Betty insisted on dancing and coaxed Walker out on the floor. He reluctantly agreed to take a few turns before going back to their table. She kicked off her satin slippers and asked Lopez to autograph them as a souvenir. The bandleader borrowed a fountain pen and did so to please Betty and his pal Jimmy, who asked her to restrain herself. He had only been drinking ginger ale at the club.
Suddenly, there was a stirring at one of the important tables nearby. A well-dressed man who seemed to know the mayor strolled over and whispered something in his ear.
Walker looked startled. He and Betty quickly rose from their ringside table and hurried to the cloakroom. Lopez left the bandstand and followed them as the mayor’s car pulled up to the entrance. It was a little past midnight. Walker apologized for having to leave so early; after all, he was not called the Night Mayor of New York for nothing. He told the bandleader that they had to return to Manhattan immediately.
“Arnold Rothstein has just been shot, Vincent,” the mayor said. “That means trouble from here on.”
His instinct was on target; there would be even more trouble than he could possibly have imagined. Jimmy Walker’s own conduct in and out of office was about to become the centerpiece of the greatest investigation of municipal corruption in American history.
All across the United States, journalists and other wiseacres would soon have a field day with the popular mayor’s personal problems and public trials. Not since the notorious Tweed Ring was exposed in the nineteenth century would New Yorkers become so aroused and, strangely, amused. The indignant “Goo-Goos”—the Good Government advocates—smelled blood in the corridors of City Hall. Even so, it was hard to be considered an idealist at a time when idealism in government seemed old-fashioned. If you were an outspoken reformer in the freebooting 1920s, you were just not with it. A benevolent form of blinkered corruption bestrode the city.
Ben Hecht, the Chicago reporter who become a playwright (The Front Page) and screenwriter, observed: “Walker is a troubadour headed for Wagnerian dramas. No man could hold life so carelessly without falling down a manhole before he is done.”
Before mounting the witness stand, Walker cheerfully said: “There are three things a man must do alone. Be born, die, and testify.” Sharply dressed for his show-and-tell trial, wearing a blue double-breasted suit with a matching blue shirt, blue tie, and blue handkerchief, the mayor commented: “Little Boy Blue is about to blow his horn—or his top.”
While being cross-examined in the county courthouse in Manhattan by the intrepid Samuel Seabury, the anti-Tammany patrician who was the proud namesake of the first Episcopal bishop in the United States, Walker told reporters: “This fellow Seabury would convict the Twelve Apostles if he could.” The mayor kept his cool—and gained the applause of his cheering admirers with a wisecrack: “Life is just a bowl of Seaburys.”
But the mayor’s nightclubbing lifestyle was overshadowed as other major personalities were coming forward on the American political stage. In 1928 Al Smith was running for president and Franklin Roosevelt for governor; the following year, Mayor Jimmy Walker would run for reelection against Congressman Fiorello La Guardia. In these contests, the murder of politically connected Arnold Rothstein affected the power of Tammany Hall’s Sachems, whose tentacles reached into every corner of the city—and into every voting booth.
In the balance stood the man Roosevelt called the Happy Warrior—Alfred E. Smith, the first Catholic to be nominated for president. Would a regionally divided nation be ready to put aside its religious and racial differences and vote for him? Would Al Smith be able to distance himself from his image as a social reformer who grew up on the rough-and-tumble sidewalks of New York and be accepted as a leader of national stature? He had called for repeal of Prohibition, a central issue around the country. But as H. L. Mencken astutely wrote: “Those who fear the Pope outnumber those who are tired of the Anti-Saloon League.”
In the wings hovered one of the boldest personalities in the electoral history of the Empire City—Fiorello La Guardia, a Republican Congressman in a Democratic town. He was of half-Italian, half-Jewish origin, a street fighter who reflected the hopes of the ethnic neighborhoods more than any other politician. The Little Flower, a former president of the city’s Board of Aldermen, aspired to be the next mayor of New York—if Jimmy Walker and the Tammany operatives stumbled.
Franklin D. Roosevelt observed the repercussions of the Rothstein assassination and the burgeoning investigations in New York City with the greatest personal interest. If the Tammany leaders did not erect any last-minute roadblocks, his dream of being nominated and elected as the thirty-second president of the United States when his turn came might become a reality.
Roosevelt was known for his eloquence, good looks, and recognizable name. No one who knew him could deny his personal bravery in making a comeback after polio had destroyed his ability to walk alone; in four determined years he had graduated from crutches to canes on Democratic political platforms. “If he burned down the Capitol,” said the humorist Will Rogers, “we would cheer and say, Well, we at least got a fire s
tarted anyhow.’ ”
But some political analysts considered him a lightweight. In words that he would later have to swallow, Walter Lippmann, the influential columnist, declared: “Franklin D. Roosevelt is no crusader. He is no tribune of the people. He is no enemy of entrenched privilege. He is a pleasant man who, without any important qualifications for the office, would very much like to be President.”
In a bizarre way, the notorious gangland murder of Rothstein called attention to the weakness of the district attorney and the police department and touched off the trials of Jimmy Walker and Tammany Hall. Suddenly, Governor Roosevelt found himself facing down the kingmakers and corrupters within his own party in the City of New York. Would Roosevelt show that he was capable of independent behavior—or would he cave in for political expediency? As a presidential contender, Roosevelt was about to have his mettle tested.
ONE
A Bullet for Big Arnie
Arnold Rothstein sat at his corner table in Leo Lindy’s shrine to brisket, boiled chicken, and belly lox at 1626 Broadway, his back to the wall, picking with a gold toothpick at the cherry-cheesecake crumbs lodged between his teeth and gums. With a flick of his manicured thumbnail, he relit his batonlike Havana with a match that instantly flared up and flamed out.
In the powerful precincts of Tammany Hall, whose district leaders provided protection for a price, as well as in the better circles of the underworld, Big Arnie was greatly respected as a shrewd over-achiever in a dangerous line of work.
One after another, the runners handling racetrack bets and a piece of the action from floating craps and card games approached his private table with the day’s receipts. They bowed their heads like courtiers before a monarch who holds a royal flush. Rothstein’s nimble mind computed the numbers and the vigorish from clients foolish enough to fall behind in their debts. Collections for the bootlegging and narcotics businesses he bankrolled were handled elsewhere by “the boys”—silent enforcers in gray fedoras, with bulges beneath their coat jackets, men whose names usually ended in vowels.