The New York Times Book of New York
Page 37
“Well,” said Boss Tweed, “what are you going to do about it?”
But he died in jail after years of dodging and turning against 20 indictments, of escapes and captures, of criminal and civil suits.
One historian of the subject has estimated that, with fraudulent issues of bonds, the tax dodging that was connived at, the extortion and the downright thefts, the Tweed ring, first and last, cost the City of New York $200 million. The ring’s direct graft was at least $30 million in 30 months and the grand total of plunder is estimated at $50 million to $100 million.
At that period George Jones was the publisher of The Times. Early in the summer of 1871 a friend of his, a lawyer, asked him to a conference. In the lawyer’s office was Richard B. Connolly, “Slippery Dick,” one of the four who made up the ring. Connolly offered Jones $5 million if The Times would drop the fight.
“I don’t think the devil will ever bid higher for me than that,” said Jones.
Connolly leaned forward. “Think what you could do with $5 million,” he said. “Why, you could go to Europe and live like a prince.”
Then Jones became explicit in his refusal of the bribe.
And there was Nast. He was a young man. His cartoons in Harper’s Weekly had made a name for him, yet there was his earlier ambition to be a painter. A lawyer friend told him there were some admirers who wanted to send him to Europe—to study art. A day or two later a banker repeated the suggestion.
$500,000 “TO STUDY ART”
“You could get $100,000 for the trip,” said the banker.
“Could I get $200,000?” asked Nast.
“Yes.”
“500,000?”
“You can.”
“Well, I don’t think I’ll do it,” said the cartoonist. “I’m going to put those fellows behind the bars.”
The exposure in The Times stripped the ring bare, yet in the end Tweed came to fear Nast’s cartoons more than the printed details.
“My constituents,” he said, “can’t read, but they can see the pictures.”
ARREST AND FLIGHT
Eventually, after one hung jury, he was convicted, in 1873, of grand larceny and forgery. After 19 months he was released on a technicality, but was unable to raise bail on civil suits designed to secure a return of the loot, such suits having been made possible by a special act of the Legislature. Yet with all the suits against the ringsters less than $1 million was recovered.
While he was nominally a prisoner in the Ludlow Street Jail, Tweed did much as he wished. In 1875 he fled to Florida, thence to Cuba and on to Spain.
One by one the ring’s chiefs slunk away. A few underlings were prosecuted; some received pardons. Mayor Hall hung on to his office till the end of his term. Hall was tried twice; in the first trial a juror died; of the second jury, five stood for acquittal. He went to England under another name and came back at last to practice law as he could and to write for the comic papers.
The Secret Accounts—Proofs of Undoubted Frauds Brought to Light
July 22, 1871
THE FOLLOWING ACCOUNTS, COPIED WITH scrupulous fidelity from Controller Connolly’s books, require little explanation. They purport to show the amount paid during 1869 and 1870, for repairs and furniture for the New Courthouse. It will be seen that the warrants are drawn in different names, but they were all indorsed to “Ingersoll & Co.”—otherwise, J. H. Ingersoll, the agent of the ring. Each warrant was signed by Controller Connolly and Mayor Hall. What amount of money was actually paid to the persons in whose favor the warrants were nominally drawn, we have no means of knowing. On the face of these accounts, however, it is clear that the bulk of the money somehow or other got back to the Ring, or each warrant would not have been endorsed over to its agent.
The dates given for the work done are obviously fraudulent. For example: On July 2, 1869, a warrant was drawn for furniture supplied for County Courts and offices, from Oct. 18 to Nov. 23, 1868, for $49,560.64. On July 16—14 days afterward—another warrant was drawn for $94,038.13 for furniture supplied to the same offices from Nov. 7 to Dec. 31. That is to say, the bill was fully paid by the first of these two warrants down to Nov. 23. And yet a fortnight afterward another warrant was drawn paying the bill over again from Nov. 7. It is obvious that the fictitious dates were not remembered by the city authorities when these warrants were drawn. Many similar cases will be observed in the figures given below.
1869
INGERSOLL & CO.
1869
July 2.—Paid for Furniture in County Courts and Offices from Oct. 18 to Nov. 23, 1868
$42,550.64
July 16.—Paid for Furniture in County Office from Nov. 7 to Dec. 31, 1868
94,038.13
Aug. 4.—Paid for Furniture in County Offices July 19, 1868
53,206.75
Sept. 7.—Paid for Furniture in County Offices Aug. 30, 1868
60,334.71
Sept. 8.—Paid for Furniture in County Courts and Offices, Sept, 23,1868
49,901.47
1870
INGERSOLL & CO
1870
Aug. 9.—Paid for Cabinetwork in Armories and Drill-rooms, April 16, 1870
77,949.58
Mar. 28.—Paid for Repairs in Armories and Drill-rooms, Aug. 28, 1869
49,742.45
Mar. 31.—Paid for Repairs in Armories and Drill-rooms, Oct. 20, 1869
38,818.84
April 16.—Paid for Fitting up Armories and Drill-rooms, Oct. 2, 1869
22,612.10
Grand Total
$5,663,646.83
It will be seen that on one day furniture is supposed to have been supplied to the amount of $129,469.48—at least a warrant for that sum was signed by Hall and Connolly in favor of C. D. Bollar & Co., and indorsed by Ingersoll & Co.
The Rise and Fall Of Society of Tammany
By MCCANDLISH PHILLIPS | March 3, 1962
The Tammany Hall building, in 1924.
TAMMANY HALL, A POLITICAL INSTITUTION virtually as old as the Federal Government, appears to be dead. Yesterday, Edward N. Costikyan, one of the earliest supporters of Mayor Wagner’s campaign to overthrow Tammany, was elected New York County Democratic leader.
If Tammany Hall is dead, its Tammany’s legacy is a bottomless mine of gaudy celebrations, malaprop toasts, genuine and sham reforms, fist fights and factions, patriotism and plunder, stuffed shirts and stuffed ballot boxes.
Two weeks after the establishment of the national government in 1789, William Mooney, an upholsterer who kept a small shop at 23 Nassau Street, founded the Society of Tammany or Columbian Order, a patriotic, social, charitable and marching fraternity.
To distinguish Tammany from all things European, Mooney required members to parade at times in aboriginal dress, with bucktails and tomahawks, escorting squaws with papooses. Meeting halls came to be called wigwams. The legendary Tammany was a sort of Indian Paul Bunyan, skilled at turning aside floodwaters single-handedly, repelling evil spirits, quelling natural disasters and curing plagues.
As early as 1796, it was a potent, partisan force. Aaron Burr worked behind the scenes as the society’s first major political leader, and Tammany soon took full control of the city.
FROM MANY, MORE
Poll frauds were a staple of the 19th century, and Tammany did not despise their potential. Wards containing fewer than 1,000 legal Democratic voters yielded 2,000 Democratic votes at times.
In 1854, it was shown how a group of Alderman called the “Forty Thieves” had named by the mayor, laborers and technicians employed by the Borough President’s office, law secretaries to elected city judges and, finally, federal judgeships, commissioners and other United States positions in the area.
Since he was elected as an independent last year, Mayor Vincent Impellitteri has been trying to shake up the leadership of Tammany. It has been largely a personal feud—based on the fact that Tammany’s leader, Carmine DeSapio, was instrumental in denying Mr. Impellitteri the Democratic nom
ination. The mayor has called on Tammany members to fire Mr. DeSapio.
To put pressure on them he has cut Tammany off from all patronage dispensed by the mayor’s office and channeled jobs through a special political adviser of his own, Frank Sampson.
Nevertheless, Mr. DeSapio is still running the Hall. Most of the Tammany members do not like Mr. Impellitteri and do not trust him—they fear reprisals if an Impellitteri man gets the leadership. They also consider Mr. DeSapio a good leader, the strongest Tammany has had for a long time.
Second, despite being shut off from the mayor’s patronage, Mr. DeSapio still has a lot of jobs to give out. Most federal patronage in the area is cleared through him, and so are the jobs from the local judges, the borough president and other elected officials who are not beholden to Mr. Impellitteri.
Still DeSapio’s Tiger
August 26, 1951
TAMMANY HALL IS NO LONGER THE POLITICAL power it was half a century ago, when it ran practically all New York politics, but the Tiger still has some teeth.
Tammany is, formally, the executive committee of Manhattan’s Democratic organization. The basis of its strength is the ability to get its followers elected or appointed to political jobs. Tammany usually controls Manhattan Democratic nominations. When the Democrats have been in power, it has generally had the privilege of picking men for a lot of appointive jobs—high city officials made almost every other official act a basis for extortion. City jobs were marketed for the best fees.
The city at one point was caught buying 4,000 glass ballot boxes at $15 each from a brother of the mayor, who had got them for $5 each.
All of this, however, was made to look insignificant when Boss William Marcy Tweed took over in 1867. In one day’s work, on May 5, 1870, the Board of Audit, composed of Tweed and four Tammany subordinates who became known as the infamous Tweed Ring and controlled municipal spending, appropriated $6,312,500, of which about a tenth was legitimately expended.
A new county bookkeeper, Matthew J. O’Rourke, found frauds in many ledgers and presented the evidence to The New York Times. The story ran day after day. The figures were startling.
Tammany Sachem George Washington Plunkitt gave the world the imperishable distinction between “honest graft” and “dishonest graft”: If a man’s inside position gave him information that helped him to invest his money in a place where fiscal lightning was guaranteed soon to strike—that was honest graft. Dishonest graft was the kind got by taking money from hoodlums for resisting the temptation to arrest them.
Tammany’s capacity to rally large numbers of voters to the Democratic cause made it an important factor in state and national elections. By helping such men as Robert F. Wagner Sr., James J. Walker and Alfred E. Smith up the Democratic ladder, Boss Murphy, who died in 1924, bequeathed to his successor a much-talked-of image of a new Tammany Hall.
But investigations directed by Samuel Seabury from 1930 to 1932 piled scandal upon scandal and forced the resignation of the charming, ever tardy, vacation-loving Tammany Mayor Walker. The revelations showed unsavory liaisons between magistrates and criminals. Something like $10 million appropriated for relief was used mainly for party purposes.
In 1953, Carmine G. DeSapio, leader of Tammany, and Edward J. Flynn, boss of the Bronx, helped Manhattan Borough President Robert F. Wagner to Gracie Mansion, an act that may have been suicidal for both the Manhattan and Bronx regular Democratic organizations.
The next year, Mr. De Sapio promoted the election of W. Averell Harriman as governor. The Society of Tammany had been so diminished that it lost its headquarters, and Governor Harriman persuaded it to abandon regular meetings because he did not want the name to haunt him in the pursuit of a presidential nomination.
MAYORS
Mayors Who Have Held New York’s Spotlight
By CATHERINE MACKENZIE | January 1, 1933
NEW YORK WILL INAUGURATE A NEW mayor—John P. O’Brien—next Tuesday to serve out the unexpired term of James J. Walker, and Acting Mayor McKee will return to his post as president of the Board of Aldermen.
Numerically the roll of mayors goes back to 1665 and to Captain Thomas Willett, who was the first mayor after the English took the city from the Dutch and when the offices of Schout, Burgomaster and Schepen were changed to Mayor, Alderman and Sheriff. But James Duane, who took office after the Revolution, is commonly called the first mayor.
Next came Richard Varick, whose administration is remembered for George Washington’s oath of office, administered by Chancellor Livingston out on the gallery of the old Federal Hall, and for the organization of the Tammany Society, its charitable, social and fraternal purpose overlaying an intent to combat the aristocrats, who were getting control of the government.
In those days New York’s mayor was appointed by the governor of the state. The saying went that, like Gaul, New York was divided into three parts—the Clintons, the Livingstons and the Schuylers. The Clintons had power, the Livingstons had numbers and the Schuylers had Alexander Hamilton.
In the 19th century, the administration at City Hall moved with the times. Municipal suffrage, formerly held only by property owners, was extended to all adult males, enormously increasing the power of Tammany. Its strength was now coming from the immigrant, particularly the Irish vote.
And then along came that glittering figure as mayor—Abraham Oakey Hall. He had been a Republican, but as the result of a deal he became district attorney under Tammany. Thomas Nast lampooned him as Mayor Haul, but he was acquitted, and the town went wild with delight.
New York has never wanted reform—for very long. A reform administration came in with John Purroy Mitchel in 1914. Three years later, up for re-election, Mitchel, popular and young, stood on the steps of City Hall while Theodore Roosevelt led the crowd that cheered him as “the best mayor we ever had.” The Citizens Union said that the defeat of Mayor Mitchel by John F. Hylan was inconceivable, but Hylan defeated him nevertheless.
Walker’s Statement Explaining His Decision to Resign As Mayor
September 2, 1932
The following statement was issued last night by Mayor Walker on his resignation:
A LETTER FROM MY COUNSEL, MR. JOHN J. Curtin, received today has caused me to make a momentous decision. That is, whether or not I shall refuse to go again to Albany to further subject myself to an un-American, unfair proceeding conducted by Governor Roosevelt against me.
Three weeks ago I went to Albany with my counsel confident that we would be accorded a fair hearing, conducted in accordance with rules established under our principles of government.
Day after day during the course of the proceedings it became more and more apparent that I was being subjected to an extraordinary inquisition. I was not accorded even the elementary rights guaranteed to any defendant in a court of law. Instead of an impartial hearing, the proceeding before the governor developed into a travesty, a mock trial, a proceeding in comparison to which even the practice of a drumhead court-martial seems liberal.
Upon my counsel’s insistence the conduct of this proceeding was submitted to the Supreme Court in order that the validity of the objections of my counsel might be impartially adjudicated. The court decided on Monday of this week that the governor proceeded in excess of jurisdiction and without warrant of law.
The governor has announced that he will persist in his illegal course. Under these circumstances the question which I am faced with is: Shall I permit myself to be lynched to satisfy prejudice or political ambition?
I feel, if I further submit, that I would demean myself as well as the citizens of New York, who have twice honored me by electing me mayor by overwhelming majorities, because the verdict, whether for or against me, would not be on the merits but dictated by political expediency.
I am not trying to avoid responsibilities. I am incurring it by submitting my case to the people who made me mayor, the people of the City of New York. To this decision I have been urged by the most loyal and distinguished Democrats in the
country.
Mayor Walker Questioned About Receiving ‘Gifts’ From Friends
By ARTHUR KROCK | May 29, 1932
Mayor Walker resigned from office on September 1, 1932.
THE NATION STRETCHED ITS EARS TO HEAR what replies Mayor James J. Walker made to Samuel Seabury before the Hofstadter Committee’s investigation in New York City this week. It heard confessions, evasions, contradictions of other witnesses, jests, threats, and, at the end, a lecture to the committee from His Honor.
It learned of “many kindnesses” extended to the mayor by lavish friends to the amount of more than $300,000. Paul Block, the advertising agent and publisher, put Mr. Walker into a joint stock account into which no capital was required of the mayor.
The publisher testified that he opened this account, from which Mr. Walker drew profits of more than $250,000, after his 10-year-old son had asked how the mayor could get along on just his $25,000 salary.
The mayor denied that he had exchanged any city favors for these “kindnesses.” The mayor also absolutely denied any firm connection with a missing committee witness, Russell T. Sherwood. He admitted that Sherwood had performed many voluntary fiscal services for Mrs. Walker and one or two for himself.