THE TWEED “RING”
1867-1870
The Tweed “Ring” was, in a measure, the outgrowth of the act of 1857
creating the Board of Supervisors. The Whigs, and their successors,
the Republicans, had up to that year held the legislative power of
the State for the greater part of ten years, during which their chief
concern had been the devising of means for keeping down the Democratic
majority in New York City. Their legislation was directed to the
transferring of as much as they could of the government of the city to
State officials, a change generally welcomed by the honest part of the
citizenship, on account of the continuous misgovernment inflicted by
city officials.
The real result of these transfers, however, was merely to make
two strongholds of corruption instead of one. The Republican power
in Albany and the Tammany power in New York City found it to their
interests to arrange terms for the distribution of patronage and
booty. Accordingly, as one means to that end, the Board of Supervisors
for New York County was created. It was founded strictly as a State
institution. Unlike the Boards of Supervisors of other counties, it had
no power to tax. It could only ascertain and levy the taxes decreed
by the State Legislature, which was required to pass yearly a special
act declaring the amount necessary for the maintenance of the city
government. It was to be an elective body, and each side was to have an
equal quota of the twelve members. But in the first board convened,
this delicate balance was upset, as has been shown, by the buying of a
Republican member, which in effect gave Tammany a majority.
William M. Tweed was born in Cherry street in 1823. He spent the
usual life of a New York boy. His father was a chairmaker in good
circumstances and gave his children a fair education. Fascinated, as
were most New York boys of the period, with the life of a volunteer
fireman, he became a runner with Engine 12 before he was of age, and
in 1849 he was elected foreman of another fire company. Carrying a
silver-mounted trumpet, a white fire-coat over his arm and wearing an
old-fashioned stiff hat, he led the ropes. So popular was young Tweed
that he became a powerful factor in ward politics, and gifted with
the qualities that counted most in those circles, he was not slow in
utilizing his popularity. The Americus Club, for a long time Tweed’s
favorite quarters, and at times the place where Tammany politics were
determined, was started with him as its foremost luminary.
Though defeated for Assistant Alderman in 1850, he was elected the next
year and served in the “Forty Thieves” Board. He was a delegate, in
1852, to the Congressional convention of the Fifth District, composed
of two East Side wards of New York City, and Williamsburg. A deadlock
ensued, through each of two candidates polling forty-four votes.
Finally the Williamsburg delegates “threw over” their favorite and
voted for Tweed, who as chairman of the convention, cast the deciding
vote for himself, with the statement that “Tweedie never goes back on
Tweedie.” He was elected, but beaten for reelection, in 1854, by the
“Know-Nothings.” The latter he fought so persistently that he became
known as the champion of the foreign element. He was made a Sachem of
the Tammany Society because of his extreme popularity, and in 1857
he was elected to the Board of Supervisors. Selling his business of
chairmaking, he thereupon devoted his entire time to politics.
The first “ring” was the Supervisors’ “Ring,” founded in 1859 by the
Democrats in the board for the purpose of procuring the appointment of
Inspectors of Election.[1] One member of the board, as already shown,
was bribed by a present of $2,500 to stay away from a session when the
Inspectors were appointed. Tweed was so well pleased with the success
of this scheme that he was inspired to wider efforts. Aided by two
men--Walter Roche and John R. Briggs--he began a systematic course of
lobbying before the Board of Aldermen in support of excessive bills
for supplies. He and his associates collected heavy tribute on every
successful bill.
His prestige was not visibly lessened by his defeat for Sheriff, in
1861, by James Lynch, a popular Irishman. In the same year he was
elected chairman of the Tammany General Committee. This instantly made
him a person of great political importance. But his grasp was yet
insecure, since a hostile body of Sachems might at any time declare
the general committee “irregular.” Recognizing this, he planned to
dominate the society by having himself elected Grand Sachem. Holding
these two positions, he reckoned that his power would be absolute.
For the time, however, he thought it wise to be satisfied with the
one; but eventually he succeeded Hoffman as Grand Sachem, and in his
dual positions gained complete control of the political situation and
dictated nominations at will.
The title of “boss” he earned by his despotic action in the general
committee. When a question was to be voted upon which he wished to have
determined in his favor, he would neglect to call for negative votes
and would decide in the affirmative, with a significantly admonishing
glance at the opposing side. Soon friends and enemies alike called him
“Boss” Tweed, and he did not seem to take the title harshly.
He made short shrift of his antagonists. Once, when chairman of
a Tammany nominating convention, he declared the nomination of
Michael Ulshoeffer, for Judge, unanimous, amid a storm of protests.
On adjournment, thirty delegates remained behind to make a
counter-nomination. Tweed blocked their plan by having the gas turned
off.
Meanwhile he daily increased his strong personal following. Nominally
Deputy Street Commissioner, to which place he was appointed in 1863, he
was virtually the head of that department, and could employ, when so
inclined, thousands of laborers, who could be used in manipulating ward
primaries when the ward leaders showed a spirit of revolt. The Aldermen
had to apply to him for jobs for their ward supporters. As a member
of the Board of Supervisors at the same time, he was in a position to
exercise his mandatory influence respecting the passage of resolutions
dealing with expenditures and the giving out of contracts. In 1868 he
added a third office to the list--that of State Senator, and was thus
enabled to superintend personally the “running” of the Legislature.
The members of the “ring”--Tweed and his subordinates, Peter B. Sweeny,
Richard B. Connolly and the rest--were growing rich at a rapid rate.
According to the subsequent testimony of James H. Ingersoll, it was
in 1867 that the understanding was reached that persons who supplied
the public offices with materials would be required to increase the
percentages given to the officials, and that all purveyors to the city
must comply. The previous tax had been but 10 per cent., and it had
been somewhat irregularly levied. A few tradesmen refused to pay the
advance, but plenty there were to take their places. Ingersoll was one
of these. He was told to fix his bills so as to “put up 35 per cent.,”
and he obligingly complied with the command. Of the 35 per cent.
collected, 25 went to Tweed and 10 to Controller Connolly.
Tweed had become dissatisfied with the old Tammany Hall building, and
a site for a new hall--the present location on Fourteenth street--was
secured. The funds in hand for the building were insufficient,
however, and had to be augmented by private subscription. It well
illustrates the liberality with which the Tammany chieftains were
supplying themselves financially, to note that when John Kelly, the
Grand Sachem, at a meeting of the society announced that a loan of
$250,000 would be needed, the sum of $175,000 was subscribed on the
spot, fifteen members alone subscribing $10,000 each.[2] A far more
astonishing incident happened in the Fall of 1867, when Peter B.
Sweeny, the City Chamberlain,[3] announced his determination to give to
the city treasury, for the benefit of the taxpayers, over $200,000 a
year, interest money, which before that had been pocketed by the City
Chamberlain.
While the “ring” was plundering the city and plotting theft on a more
gigantic scale, the Sachems, many of them implicated in the frauds,
laid the corner-stone of the new Tammany Hall building. The ceremony
was marked by the characteristic pronouncement of virtuous-sounding
phrases. “Brothers and friends,” rhapsodized Mayor Hoffman, “in the
name of the Tammany Society, I proceed to lay the corner-stone of
a new hall which will, for the next half century at least, be the
headquarters of the Democracy of New York, where the great principles
of civil and religious liberty, constitutional law and national unity,
which form the great corner-stones of the republic, will always be
advocated and maintained.…” The “braves” then marched to Irving Hall,
where Tweed, Sweeny and Connolly had caused such inscriptions as these
to be hung about: “Civil liberty the glory of man”; “The Democratic
party--Upon its union and success depends the future of the republic.
He who would seek to lower its standard of patriotism and principle, or
distract its councils, is an enemy to the country.” Gazing approvingly
on these inscriptions from the platform sat Tweed, Sweeny and Connolly,
A. Oakey Hall and a host of Judges and office-holders of all sorts,
while Andrew J. Garvey (who will reappear in these chapters) conducted
the invited guests. The building of this hall--an imposing one for the
day--in a central part of the city, gave to the Tweed combination an
advantage of no inconsiderable significance.
In the new Wigwam, on July 4, 1868, the Democratic national convention
was held. Tammany, in fact, forced its candidate, Horatio Seymour,
on the convention. The galleries were filled with seasoned Wigwam
shouters, cheering vociferously for Seymour. Only persons having
tickets were admitted, and these tickets were distributed by an able
young Wigwam politician, who saw to it that only the right sort of
persons gained entrance. Gaining its point on the nomination, Tammany
magnanimously allowed the Southern men to dictate the declaration in
the platform that the reconstruction acts were “unconstitutional,
revolutionary and void.” There was a general suspicion that the
organization, hopeless of the election of a Democratic President, had
forced Seymour’s nomination for the purpose of trading votes for its
State and local ticket.
The State convention again named Hoffman for Governor, and
preparations began for a lively campaign. Tammany addressed itself
to the citizenship as the defender of the interests of the poor, and
instanced the candidacy of John A. Griswold for Governor, Edwin D.
Morgan for Governor, and “several other millionaires,” as a proof of
the plutocratic tendencies of the Republican party. On October 19 the
general committee, with Tweed in the chair, adopted an address urging
the people to stand by Seymour and Blair. Continuing, it said:
“We are united. We believe in our cause. It is the cause of
constitutional liberty, of personal rights, of a fraternity of
States, of an economical government, of the financial credit
of the nation, of one currency for all men, rich and poor, and
of the political supremacy of the white race and protection
of American labor.… [Hoffman] is the friend of the poor, the
sympathizer with the naturalized citizen, and the foe to
municipal oppression in the form of odious excise and all other
requisitional laws.… Is not the pending contest preeminently
one of capital against labor, of money against popular rights,
and of political power against the struggling interests of the
masses?”
Public addresses and pronunciamentos, however, formed but a small part
of the Tammany program for 1868. For six weeks the naturalization mills
worked with the greatest regularity in the Supreme, Common Pleas and
Superior Courts, producing, it was estimated, from 25,000 to 30,000
citizens, of whom not less than 85 per cent. voted the Tammany Hall
ticket. On October 30 Tweed announced to the general committee that
“at 10 o’clock to-morrow the money for electioneering purposes will
be distributed” and that those who came first would be served first.
The chairman of the executive committee spread forth the glad tidings
that there was $1,000 ready for each election district. There being
327 election districts, this made a fund of $327,000 from the general
committee alone, exclusive of the sums derived in the districts
themselves from the saloon-keepers and the tradesmen, whose fear of
inviting reprisals by Tammany officials made them “easy marks” for
assessments. Tweed personally suggested to the twenty-four leaders the
stuffing of ballot boxes.[4] By fraudulent naturalization, repeating,
the buying and trading of votes, and intimidation, Seymour secured
a total of 108,316 votes, against 47,762 for Grant. The whole vote
of the city was swelled to 156,288, of which, it was conclusively
demonstrated, at least 25,000 were fraudulent.[5] Tweed himself
confessed, nine years later, that he thought the Inspectors of
Elections “lumped” the votes and declared them without counting, in
order to overcome the result in the rest of the State and give the
electoral vote to Seymour.[6] To prevent the Republicans from getting
the use of certain telegraph wires on election night, Tweed sent out
long, useless messages, and it was even proposed to telegraph the whole
Bible if necessary.[7]
Hoffman was swept into the Governorship on the strength of the frauds.
His election left vacant the Mayor’s chair, and a special election to
fill it was called for the first Tuesday of December.
It was all essential to the “ring” that its candidate, A. Oakey
Hall, should be elected. The candidacy of Frederick A. Conkling, the
Republican nominee, was not feared, but John Kelly, who controlled
a considerable part of the Irish vote, was a threatening factor.
Disappointed at not receiving a new post at the close of his term
as Sheriff, he had led a revolt against the “ring,” and had himself
nominated for Mayor at the Masonic Hall “reform” convention.
“Influences” were soon set at work; and suddenly, after Kelly had
appeared before the nominating convention and accepted the nomination,
he withdrew from the contest, on the score of ill-health.[8] Hall
won, receiving 75,109 votes, to 20,835 for Conkling. The degree in
which Tammany fraudulently increased the vote at the November election
is indicated in the fact that at the December election, despite a
repetition of frauds, the Tammany vote declined 33,000.
The “ring” nominations, being equivalent to election, yielded a
large price. There was no Democratic opposition, Mozart Hall having
practically passed out of existence, through Wood’s resignation of its
leadership. The revenues of the various city offices were constantly
rising, and a keener competition for the places arose. In 1866, before
the really extensive operations of the “ring” began, it was estimated
that the offices of Sheriff and County Clerk were worth $40,000 a year
each. Several years later it was found that the yearly revenue of the
Register amounted to between $60,000 and $70,000, partly derived from
illegal fees. It was well known that one Register had received the sum
of $80,000 a year.[9] The yearly aggregate of the illegal transactions
in the Sheriff’s office could not be accurately ascertained; but it
was a well-authenticated fact that one Sheriff, about 1870, drew from
the office the sum of $150,000 the first year of his term. He was a
poor man when elected; upon retiring at the end of the two-years’ term,
he did not conceal the fact that he was worth $250,000, clear of all
political assessments and other deductions.
All nominations for city, county and, too often, State offices, and
notoriously those for Judges, were dictated by Tweed. He not only
controlled all the local departments, but swayed every court below
the Court of Appeals.[10] Judges were nominated partly with a view
to the amount they could “put up,” and partly with a view to their
future decisions on political questions. Fernando Wood had frankly
presented the latter reason in his speech nominating Albert Cardozo,
one of Tweed’s most useful puppets, for the Supreme Court.[11] At
the Judiciary election of May, 1870, repeating was the order of the
day, and the registry was swelled to an enormous extent. In one of
the wards, about 1,100 negroes were registered; but when they went to
the ballot boxes, they were amazed to learn that white repeaters had
already voted upon nearly 500 of their names. Later, when a few of the
negroes tried to vote, they were arrested as repeaters. The corrupt
means used in selecting the Judiciary, and the hopelessness of securing
just verdicts in any of the courts, prompted one writer seriously
to discuss, in the pages of a standard magazine, the formation of a
vigilance committee modeled upon that of San Francisco.[12]
Tweed had for some time recognized the importance of gaining a seat
in the State Senate. That body could at any time create or abolish
city departments or offices, or change the laws affecting them. The
Tammany officials, realizing its potentialities, had already made
terms with it, and the “ring,” which subsisted at first between the
two factions of partizans in the Board of Supervisors, had grown into
a compact “ring” between the Republican majority at Albany, the Board
of Supervisors and the Democratic officials of New York City. Tweed
saw the necessity of being at the center of political bargaining and
legislative manipulation, and accordingly had himself elected to the
upper house.
Upon taking his seat, in 1868, he at once began to procure legislation
increasing his power in New York City. His first measure was the
“Adjusted Claims” act, which gave the City Controller power to adjust
claims then existing against the city, and to obtain money by the issue
of bonds. Payments under this act were first made by the Controller
in July, 1868, and were continued to January, 1869. During this time,
55 per cent. of the claims paid were divided among the members of the
“ring.” In July, 1869, payments under the act were resumed, but the
percentage was increased to 60 per cent., and after November, 1869, to
65 per cent.
The conspiring contractors were led by Andrew J. Garvey, Ingersoll
& Co. and Keyser & Co. At first, 25 per cent. of the spoils went to
Tweed, 20 to Connolly and 10 to Sweeny. When the rate was subsequently
increased, others were permitted to share in the harvest, and Watson,
the County Auditor; Woodward, the clerk of the Board of Supervisors,
and the recognized go-betweens for the “ring” members, received 2½ per
cent. Five per cent. was reserved for “expenses”--in other words, the
sums necessary to bribe the requisite members of the Legislature. The
division of the spoils was a matter of daily occurrence when Tweed was
in town, and took place in the Supervisors’ room in the County Court
House. After Watson’s warrants had been cashed, Garvey would carry
Tweed’s share of the plunder to the “Boss” at the office of Street
Commissioner George W. McLean. On one such visit Garvey found McLean
present. In trying to hand the parcel secretly to Tweed, it fell on
the floor. Tweed quickly covered it with his foot, and later, with
apparent carelessness, picked it up and threw it into a drawer. The
too-ingenious Garvey was thereafter instructed to “do business” with
Woodward.[13]
Tweed soon reached a position of general control in the State
Legislature. But it cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars. Often he
had to pay for what he wanted quite as heavily as did the corporations
who maintained lobbies there. “It was impossible to do anything there
without paying for it,” were his own words; “money had to be raised
for the passing of bills.”[14] A well-known lobbyist of the time
stated that for a favorable report on a certain bill before the Senate
$5,000 apiece was paid to four members of the committee having it
in charge. On the passage of the bill a further $5,000 apiece, with
contingent expenses, was to be paid. In another instance, when but one
vote was needed to pass a bill, three Republicans put their figures
up to $25,000 each. One of them, it is needless to say, was secured.
A band of about thirty Republicans and Democrats, shortly afterwards
becoming known as the “Black Horse Cavalry,” organized themselves
under the leadership of an energetic lobbyist, with a mutual pledge to
vote as directed.[15] Naturally their action exercised a strong “bull”
influence on the market for votes; and the sums paid by Tweed and other
“promoters” grew to an enormous aggregate.
Honesty among legislators was at a discount. There were some honest
men in both houses who voted for several of the bills alluded to, on
their merits. The lobbyists entered these men in their memoranda to
their corporations as having been “fixed,” put the money in their
own pockets and allowed the honest members to suffer under the
imputation of having been bribed. Any corporation, however extensive
and comprehensive the privileges it asked, and however much oppression
it sought to impose upon the people in the line of unjust grants,
extortionate rates or monopoly, could convince the Legislature of the
righteousness of its requests upon “producing the proper sum.”[16] The
testimony before the Select Committee of the New York Senate, appointed
April 10, 1868, showed that at least $500,000 was expended to get
legislation legalizing fraudulent Erie Railway stock issues.
In 1869 the “ring” opened operations in the Legislature and in
the municipal bodies on a greater scale than ever. Tweed began to
concern himself in Erie and other railroads, and to compel different
corporations to give tribute for laws passed in their interest or
for providing against hostile measures. He ordered the passage of
the Erie Classification bill, at the suggestion of “Jim” Fisk, Jr.,
and Jay Gould, who for that service made him a director of the
Erie railroad.[17] At this juncture Fisk and Gould were engaged in
great stock frauds and in breeding a disastrous panic, which caused
widespread ruin and suffering. Tweed abetted their schemes. One of his
most servile tools, Judge George G. Barnard, of the Supreme Court, did
whatever Tweed directed him, especially in favor of Gould and Fisk. One
biographer of Fisk wrote quite innocently: “Jay Gould and Fisk took
William M. Tweed into their [Erie] board, and the State Legislature,
Tammany Hall and the Erie ‘Ring’ were fused in interest and have
contrived to serve each other faithfully.”[18] Once Tweed complained
that a friend “had gone back on him,” and when asked in return how it
was that he could stand such drains on his check-book, he laughed and
showed a slip of paper on which he had calculated his Erie profits for
the foregoing three months; they amounted to $650,000.
During the campaign of 1869, for the election of members of the
Common Council and certain State officers, a legal question arose
as to whether Mayor Hall had been elected for two years or merely
for the unexpired year of Hoffman’s term. Hall claimed a two-years’
term, and the best lawyers supported the claim. But to make sure of
the matter, Tammany, in the late days of the campaign, instructed
its members and followers to cast ballots for him, and the Police
Commissioners distributed special ballot boxes for the Mayoralty vote.
As no proclamation on the subject had been issued, the Republicans and
other opponents of Tammany Hall had no opportunity to make nominations.
Mayor Hall consequently received nearly the entire number of votes
cast--65,568, out of a total of 66,619.
After entering the Board of Supervisors, Tweed had boasted that he
would soon be among the largest real-estate owners in the city. He made
good the boast. A comparatively poor man in 1864, he was reputed five
years later to be worth $12,000,000. This was an exaggeration, for
he was not worth anything like that sum at any one time; but he was,
nevertheless, an enormously rich man. He had investments in real estate
and iron mines; he was interested in every street opening and widening
scheme; he had a hand in all city, and in some State, contracts, and
he held directorships in many railroad and gas companies and other
corporations. Connolly, who some years before had left a position
as a book-keeper, at a moderate salary, to engage in politics “as a
financial speculation”; Sweeny, and the rest of the “ring,” suddenly
became millionaires. Many other politicians shared in the sacking of
the city.
FOOTNOTES
[1] _Documents of the Board of Aldermen_, 1877, part 2, No. 8, pp.
15-16. This document, embodying the full confession of Tweed before
a special investigating committee, will be frequently referred to in
this and the following chapter. Its value as a support to many of the
statements made in the text of this work rests upon the credibility
of Tweed’s word. The best opinion is that Tweed told the approximate
truth. He was not a vengeful man; he was, at the time, old, and broken
in power and health; he had no reason for concealment or evasion, and
it is unlikely, considering his moral temperament, that he would have
made false statements for the purpose of involving innocent men, or of
adding to the sum of venality already proved against the guilty.
[2] New York _Herald_, September 10, 1867.
[3] “I heard that Peter B. Sweeny paid $60,000 for his confirmation
as City Chamberlain by the Board of Aldermen”--Tweed’s testimony,
_Document No. 8_, p. 105.
[4] _Document No. 8_, p. 225.
[5] It was probably at this election that a certain amusing incident in
the swearing in of the Election Inspectors occurred. No Bible being at
hand, they were sworn on a copy of Ollendorf’s _New Method of Learning
to Read, Write and Speak French_. The courts subsequently upheld the
substitution of Ollendorf for the Bible, deciding that it was not
such an act as would vitiate the election. _Documents of the Board of
Supervisors_, 1870, Vol. II, No. 12.
[6] _Document No. 8_, pp. 133-34.
[7] _Document No. 8_, p. 226.
[8] Kelly left rather hastily for Europe, where he remained three years.
[9] Report of the Bar Association Committee on Extortions, March 5,
1872.
[10] Tilden: _The Tweed Ring_, J. Polhemus, 1873.
[11] “The Ermine in the ‘Ring,’” _Putnam’s Magazine_ supplement (about
1869). It happened that a singular suit brought by Wood against the
city came before this very Judge, when Wood obtained by his decision a
judgment for $180,000 for the rent of premises owned by him, not worth,
for any use of the city, over $35,000. The buildings, in great part,
were so unfit for use that the city, although paying rent for them for
years, established its departments elsewhere. Wood re-leased these
unused offices, collecting a double rent.
[12] _Ibid._
[13] Garvey’s testimony, _Tweed Case_, etc., Supreme Court, 1876, Vol.
I: pp. 814-16.
[14] _Document No. 8_, p. 29.
[15] _Document No. 8_, pp. 212-13.
[16] New York _Sun_, February 6, 1871.
[17] Q.--“Did you ever receive any money from either Fisk or Gould to
be used in bribing the Legislature?”
A.--“I did, sir! They were of frequent occurrence. Not only did
I receive money, but I find by an examination of the papers that
everybody else who received money from the Erie Railroad charged it to
me.” Tweed: _Document No. 8_, p. 149.
[18] _A Life of James Fisk, Jr._, New York, 1871.