In 1869, there were 13,947 births, 8695 marriages, and 24,601 deaths reported by the city authorities.  The authorities stated that they were satisfied that the number of births was actually over 30,000; the number reported by them being very incomplete, owing to the difficulty of procuring such information.

Its mixed population makes New York a thoroughly cosmopolitan city, yet at the same time it is eminently American.  The native element exercises a controlling influence upon all its acts, and when the proper exertion is made rarely fails to maintain its ascendancy.

The number of buildings in the city is from 60,000 to 70,000.  In 1860, out of 161,000 families only 15,000 occupied entire houses.  Nine thousand one hundred and twenty dwellings contained two families each, and 6100 contained three families each.  After these come the tenement houses.  At present, the number of houses occupied by more than one family is even larger.

It has been well said that “New York is the best place in the world to take the conceit out of a man.”  This is true.  No matter how great or flattering is the local reputation of an individual, he finds upon reaching New York that he is entirely unknown.  He must at once set to work to build up a reputation here, where he will be taken for just what he is worth, and no more.  The city is a good school for studying human nature, and its people are proficients in the art of discerning character.

The people of New York are very liberal in matters of opinion.  Here, as a general rule, no man seeks to influence the belief of another, except so far as all men are privileged to do so.  Every religious faith, every shade of political opinion, is protected and finds full expression.  Men concern themselves with their own affairs only.  Indeed this feeding has been carried to such an extreme that it has engendered a decided indifference between man and man.  People live for years as next door neighbors without ever knowing each other by sight.  A gentleman once happened to notice the name of his next door neighbor on the door-plate.  To his surprise he found it the same as his own.  Accosting the owner of the door-plate one day, for the first time, he remarked that it was singular that two people bearing the same name should live side by side for years without knowing each other.  This remark led to mutual inquiries and statements, and to their surprise the two men found they were brothers—sons of the same parents.  They had not met for many years, and for fully twelve years had lived side by side as neighbors, without knowing each other.  This incident may be overdrawn, but it will illustrate a peculiar feature of New York life.

To persons of means, New York offers more advantages as a place of residence than any city in the land.  Its delightful climate, its cosmopolitan and metropolitan character, and the endless variety of its attractions and comforts, render it the most delightful home in America.  Its people are warmly attached to and proud of it, and even strangers feel drawn towards it as to no other city save their own homes.  Few persons care to leave it after a twelve-months’ residence within its limits, and those who are forced to go away generally find their way back at the earliest opportunity.

The bay and harbor of New York are noted the world over for their beauty.  When the discoverer, Henry Hudson, first gazed upon the glorious scene, he gave vent to the impulsive assertion that it was “a very good land to fall in with, and a pleasant land to see,” and there are few who will venture to differ from him.

To enjoy the wonderful beauty of the bay, one should enter it from the ocean; and it is from the blue water that we propose to begin our exploration.

Nineteen miles from the City of New York, on the western side of the bay, is a low, narrow, and crooked neck of sand, covered in some places with a dense growth of pine and other hardy trees.  This neck is called Sandy Hook, and its curve encloses a pretty little bay, known as the Cove.  On the extreme end of the point, which commands the main ship channel, the General Government is erecting a powerful fort, under the guns of which every vessel entering the bay must pass.  There is also a lighthouse near the fort, and within the last few years a railway depot has been built on the shore of the Cove.  Passengers from New York for Long Branch are transferred from the steamer to the cars at this place, the road running along the sea-shore to Long Branch.  To the westward of Sandy Hook, on the Jersey shore, are the finely wooded and picturesque Highlands of Nevesink, and at their feet the Shrewsbury River flows into the bay, while some miles to the eastward are the shining sands and white houses of Rockaway Beach and Fire Island.  Seven miles out at sea, tosses the Sandy Hook Light Ship, marking the point from which vessels must take their course in entering the bay.

Soon Staten Island is passed, and we see the white lighthouse standing out in the water, which marks the entrance to the Kill Van Kull, or Staten Island Sound; and, far to the westward, we can faintly discern the shipping at Elizabethport.  We are now fairly in the harbor of New York, with the great city directly in front of us, Brooklyn on our right, and Jersey City on our left.  To the northward, the line of the Hudson melts away in the distant blue sky, and to the right the East River is lost in the shipping and houses of the two cities it separates.  The scene is gay and brilliant.  The breeze is fresh and delightful; the sky as clear and blue as that of Italy, and the bay as bright and beautiful as that of Naples, and even more majestic.  As far as the eye can reach on either side of the Hudson extend the long lines of shipping, while the East River is a perfect forest of masts.  Here are steamboats and steamships, sailing vessels, barges, and canal boats—every sort of craft known to navigation.  The harbor is gay with the flags of all nations.  Dozens of ferry boats are crossing and recrossing from New York to the opposite shores.  Ships are constantly entering and leaving port, and the whole scene bears the impress of the energy and activity that have made New York the metropolis of America.

At night the scene is indescribably beautiful.  The myriad stars in the sky above are reflected in the dark bosom of the harbor.  The dim outlines of the shores are made more distinct by the countless rows of lights that line them, and the many colored lamps of the ferry-boats, as they dart back and forth over the waters, give to the scene a sort of gala appearance.

The best point from which to view the Inner Bay is the Battery Park, from the sea-wall of which an uninterrupted view of the bay and both rivers may be obtained.

By the terms of the charter of 1870, the government of the City of New York is vested in a Mayor, Common Council, consisting of Aldermen and Assistant Aldermen, a Corporation Counsel, and Comptroller, all elected by the people.  There are also a Department of Public Works, which has charge of the streets of the city, and the Croton Aqueduct and Reservoirs; a Department of Docks, charged with the construction of new piers, etc., along the harbor front; a Department of Public Parks; a Fire Department; a Health Department; and a Police Board.  The heads of all these Departments are appointed by the Mayor of the city.  Previous to 1870 the city was governed by a series of commissions appointed by the Governor of the State, and the citizens were deprived of all voice in the management of their own affairs.  It was urged by the friends of the New Charter, that that instrument restored to the citizens of New York the right of self-government.  Had its provisions been honestly carried out, New York might have had a good government; but we shall see that they were perverted by a band of corrupt men into the means of the grossest oppression of the citizens.

The Common Council of the City of New York can hardly be termed a representative body.  It does not represent the honestly gotten wealth of the city; for, though many of its members are wealthy, people look with suspicion upon a rich Councilman.  It does not represent the proud intellectual character of New York; for there is scarcely a member who has intellect or education enough to enable him to utter ten sentences in good English.  For many years the Councils have been composed of small tradesmen, who found politics more profitable than their legitimate callings, of bar-keepers, of men without social position in the city they professed to represent, and many of whom were suspected of dishonest and corrupt practices by their fellow-citizens.  Indeed, it may be said, that, with a very few exceptions, there was not a man in this important body who possessed the respect or confidence of the citizens of New York.  They were elected by bribery and corruption, maintained their positions by the same means, and enjoyed the favor and protection of the leaders of their party, only by aiding the execution and covering up from investigation the schemes of those men for their mutual engorgement at the expense of the public treasury.

Mr. James Parton gives the following account of the proceedings of this worshipful body:

* * * * *

“At almost every session we witnessed scenes like the following: A member proposed to lease a certain building for a city court at $2000 a year for ten years.  Honest Christopher Pullman, a faithful and laborious public servant, objected on one or two grounds; first, rents being unnaturally high, owing to several well-known and temporary causes, it would be unjust to the city to fix the rent at present rates for so long a period; secondly, he had been himself to see the building, had taken pains to inform himself as to its value, and was prepared to prove that $1200 a year was a proper rent for it even at the inflated rates.  He made this statement with excellent brevity, moderation, and good temper, and concluded by moving that the term be two instead of ten years.  A robust young man, with a bull neck and of ungrammatical habits, said, in a tone of impatient disdain, that the landlord of the building had ‘refused’ $1500 a year for it.  ‘Question!’  ‘Question!’ shouted half a dozen angry voices; the question was instantly put, when a perfect war of noes voted down Mr. Pullman’s amendment.  Another hearty chorus of ayes consummated the iniquity.  In all such affairs, the visitor notices a kind of ungovernable propensity to vote for spending money, and a prompt disgust at any obstacle raised or objection made.  The bull-necked Councilman of uncertain grammar evidently felt that Mr. Pullman’s modest interference on behalf of the tax-payer was a most gross impertinence.  He felt himself an injured being, and his companions shared his indignation.

“Then there was a pause.  The cry of ‘Question!’ was heard.  The ayes and noes were called.  The resolution was carried by eighteen to five.  The learned suppose that one-half of this stolen $4000 was expended upon the colors, and the other half divided among about forty persons.  It is conjectured that each member of the Councilmen’s Ring, which consists of thirteen, received about forty dollars for his vote on this occasion.  This sum, added to his pay, which is twenty dollars per session, made a tolerable afternoon’s work.

“It was proposed, on another occasion, to raise the fees of the Inspectors of Weights and Measures—who received fifty cents for inspecting a pair of platform scales, and smaller sums for scales and measures of less importance.  Here was a subject upon which honest Stephen Roberts, whose shop is in a street where scales and measures abound, was entirely at home.  He showed, in his sturdy and strenuous manner, that, at the rates then established, an active man could make $200 a day.  ‘Why,’ said he, ‘a man can inspect, and does inspect, fifty platform scales in an hour.’  The cry of ‘Question!’ arose.  The question was put, and the usual loud chorus of ayes followed.

“These half-fledged legislators are acquainted with the device known by the name of the ‘previous question.’  We witnessed a striking proof of this.  One of the most audacious and insolent of the Ring introduced a resolution, vaguely worded, the object of which was to annul an old paving contract, that would not pay at the present cost of labor and materials, and to authorize a new contract at higher rates.  Before the clerk had finished reading the resolution, honest Stephen Roberts sprang to his feet, and, unrolling a remonstrance with several yards of signatures appended to it, stood, with his eye upon the chairman, ready to present it the moment the reading was concluded.  This remonstrance, be it observed, was signed by a majority of the property-owners interested, the men who would be assessed to pay for one-half of the proposed pavement.  Fancy the impetuous Roberts, with the document held aloft, the yards of signatures streaming down to his feet, and flowing far under his desk, awaiting the time when it would be in order to cry out, ‘Mr. President.’  The reading ceased.  Two voices were heard shouting, ‘Mr. President.’  It was not to Mr. Roberts that an impartial chairman could assign the floor.  The member who introduced the resolution was the one who caught the speaker’s eye, and that member, forewarned of Mr. Roberts’s intention, moved the previous question.  It was in vain that Mr. Roberts shouted ‘Mr. President;’ it was in vain that he fluttered his streaming ribbon of blotted paper.  The President could not hear a word of any kind until a vote had been taken upon the question whether the main question should now be put.  The question was carried in the affirmative by a chorus of ayes, so exactly timed that it was like the voice of one man.  Then the main question was put, and it was carried by another emphatic and simultaneous shout.”

I.  THE HISTORY OF THE RING.

We have spoken of the outrages practised upon the citizens of New York by the Common Council of that city.  We must now turn our attention to the other branches of the City Government, and investigate the conduct of the real rulers of New York.

For several years the political power and patronage has been lodged in the hands of, and exercised by a set of men commonly known as “The Ring.”  They rose to power in consequence of the neglect of their political duties by the respectable citizens of New York, and, having attained power, were not slow in arranging affairs so that their ill-gotten authority might be perpetuated.  They controlled the elections by bribery, and the fraudulent counting of votes, and so filled the elective offices with their own creatures.  Having done this, they proceeded to appoint to the other offices only such men as were bound to them, and whom they could trust to cover up their mutual dishonesty.  Competency to discharge the duties of the offices thus given was not once considered.  The Ring cared only for men who would unite in plundering the public treasury, and be vigilant in averting the detection of the theft.  They wanted to exercise political power, it is true, but they also desired to enrich themselves at the public expense.

“Every American will say: ‘It is incredible that this has been done.’  But the history of the paradox is over two years old.  And it is a history of theft, robbery, and forgery, which have stolen and divided twenty millions of dollars; which have run up the city debt from $36,000,000 in 1869 to $97,000,000 in 1871, and which will be $120,000,000 by August, 1872; which have paid to these robbers millions of dollars for work never performed and materials never furnished; which paid astoundingly exorbitant rents to them for offices and armories, many of which were never occupied and some of which did not exist—which remitted their taxes, released their indebtedness, and remitted their rents, to the city due and owing—which ran the machinery for widening, improving and opening streets, parks and boulevards, to enable these men to speculate in assessed damages and greatly enhanced values—which created unnecessary offices with large salaries and no duties, in order to maintain a force of ruffianly supporters and manufacturers of votes—which used millions of dollars to bribe and corrupt newspapers, the organs of public opinion, in violation of laws which narrowly limited the public advertising—which camped within the city a reserve army of voters by employing thousands of laborers at large pay upon nominal work, neither necessary nor useful—which bought legislatures and purchased judgments from courts both civil and criminal.

* * * * *

Having made themselves secure, as they believed, the Ring laughed at the idea of punishment, if detected.  They not only controlled the elections, but they also controlled the administration of justice.  The courts were filled with their creatures, and were so distorted from the purposes of the law and the ends of justice, that no friend of the Ring had any cause to fear punishment at their hands, however great his crime.  The majority of the crimes committed in the city were the acts of the adherents of the Ring, but they escaped punishment, as a rule, except when a sacrifice to public opinion was demanded.  If the criminal happened to be a politician possessing any influence among the disreputable classes, he was sure of acquittal.  The magistrate before whom he was tried, dared not convict him, for fear of incurring either his enmity, or the censure of the leaders of the Ring to whom his influence was of value.  So crime of all kinds increased in the city.

Another means of purloining money is thus described by Mr. Abram P. Genung, in a pamphlet recently issued by him:

We have not the space to enumerate the various methods of plundering the city adopted by the Ring.  What we have given will enable the reader to obtain a clear insight into their system.  During the years 1869 and 1870, the following sums were paid by the Comptroller:

Under the management of the Ring, the cost of governing the city was about thirty millions of dollars annually.  The city and county debt (practically the same, since both are paid by the citizens of New York,) was doubled every two years.  On the 1st of January, 1869, it was $36,000,000.  By January 1st, 1871, it had increased to $73,000,000.  On the 14th of September, 1871, it was $97,287,525, and the Citizens’ Committee declare that there is grave reason to believe that it will reach $120,000,000 during the present year (1871).

The Ring was all-powerful in the great city, and they there built up an organized despotism, the most infamous known to history.  No man’s rights, no man’s liberties were safe, if he ventured to oppose them.  They even sought to strike down freedom of speech and the liberty of the press.  Mr. Samuel J. Tilden, in the speech from which we have quoted before in this chapter, makes this distinct charge against them.  He says: “Mr. Evarts went to Albany last year, and carried with him my protest against the passage of the law giving to the judges a power unknown in the jurisprudence of this State—unknown in the jurisprudence of the United States for the last thirty years—whereby it was secured that any member of the City Government that might be offended, could put his hand upon the city press, and suppress its liberties and freedom of speech.”

How long all this would have continued, it is impossible to say, had it not pleased God that there should be jealousies and dissensions amongst the members of the Ring strong enough to break even the infamous bonds that had so long bound them together.