Hiram Ketchum, in November, 1861, publicly accused Wood of promising two men—Woodruff and Hoffman—Mozart Hall nominations for Judgeships, upon which they each paid $5,000 in checks to Wood’s account for “election expenses.” Pocketing the money, Wood then made an agreement with Tammany to unite on two other men—Monell and Barbour—for Judges, on condition that Tammany should not unite with the Republicans against him in the December Mayoralty election.

S. B. Chittenden, a citizen of wealth and standing, charged, in Cooper Institute, November 26, 1861, that the signature of the Street Cleaning Commissioner necessary for certain documents could be bought for $2,500, and intimated that Wood was not dissociated from the procedure.

Wood had spent an enormous amount in his political schemes. He himself admitted, according to the testimony of A. W. Craven, Chief Engineer of the Croton Aqueduct Department, before a committee of Aldermen, “that his object in removing heads of departments was to get control of the departments, so that he could put in those who would cooperate with him and, also, could pay off his obligations.”[9]

It is possible to give only an outline of the “jobs” stealthily put through the Common Council. Newspaper criticism was, in a measure, silenced by appropriations of from $10,000 to $20,000 a year for “advertising,” though occasional exposures were made in spite of this. One of these related to the appropriation of $105,000 in July, 1860, for a few days’ entertainment of the Japanese Embassy in New York. Of this sum only a few thousand dollars were used for the purpose, the rest being stolen.[10]

Never more than now was patriotism shown to be the last refuge of scoundrels. Taking advantage of the war excitement, the most audacious designs on the city treasury were executed under color of acts of the purest patriotism. At a special meeting of the Common Council, on August 21, 1861, called ostensibly to help the families of the poor volunteers, a measure providing for the appointment of twenty-two Street Opening Commissioners was hurriedly passed, upon motion of Alderman Terence Farley, against whom several untried indictments were pending. Without entering into details, it can be said that this action represented a theft of $250,000, in that the Commissioners were superfluous, and their offices were created merely to make more places for a hungry host of political workers.

If the city was a richer prize than ever to the politicians, the Legislature was no less desirable. Alien members of both branches of that body were under the complete domination of political managers. It was notorious that the Democratic and the Republican lobby lords exchanged the votes of their respective legislative vassals, so that it mattered little to either which political party had the ascendency in the Legislature. One celebrated lobbyist declared that it was cheaper to buy, than to elect, a Legislature. The passage of five franchises by the Legislature, on April 17, 1860, over Gov. Morgan’s veto, cost the projectors upwards of $250,000 in money and stock.[11]

Apparently hostile, the leaders of Tammany and of Mozart Hall soon saw that it was to their mutual benefit to have a secret understanding as to the division of the spoils. While Mozart had supremacy for the moment, Tammany had superior advantages. It could point to a long record; its organization was perfect; it had a perpetual home, and the thousands of its disappointed ward-workers and voters who had transferred their allegiance to Mozart, in the hope of better reward, would certainly flow back in time. This changing about was an old feature of New York politics. A successful political party was always depleted by thousands of office-seekers who left its ranks because disappointed in their hopes. Most important of all, Tammany had dealt the decisive blow to Mozart Hall at the Charleston convention, in 1860, and at the Syracuse convention, in September, 1861, when its delegation secured the recognition of “regularity.”

Hence Mozart Hall, to avoid losing the State offices, willingly bargained with Tammany, and in the Fall of 1861 the two combined on nominees for the Legislature. They could not agree on the Mayoralty, Wood determining to stand for reelection. But true to their agreement not to ally themselves with the Republicans, the Tammany leaders nominated independently, selecting C. Godfrey Gunther. Once more a non-partizan movement sprang up to combat the forces of corruption. The People’s Union, composed of Republicans and Democrats, succeeded, despite the usual frauds, in electing George P. Opdyke, a Republican, by less than 1,000 plurality, he receiving 25,380 votes; Gunther, 24,767; and Wood 24,167. In violation of the law, returns in ten districts were held back for evident purposes of manipulation. When the figures showed Opdyke’s election, attempts were made to deprive him of his certificate on the pretense that the returns as published in the daily newspapers were inaccurate. After much counting by the Board of Aldermen, whose attempt at “counting out” Opdyke was frustrated by the vigilance of his friends, the latter was declared elected by 613 plurality.

Newspaper accounts described a lively time, quite in keeping with a long line of precedents, in Tammany Hall on election night. The crowd was in unpleasant humor because of Gunther’s defeat. When “Jimmy” Nesbit, a good-natured heeler of the Sixth Ward, was called upon to preside, he tried to evoke cheers for Gunther. Chafing at the lack of enthusiasm, he swore fiercely at his hearers. A shout was heard, “Three cheers for Fernando Wood,” whereupon the eminent chairman lost his equanimity and let fly a pitcher at the offender’s head. He was on the point of heaving another missile, a large pewter pitcher, but a bystander caught his hand. Cries of “Tammany is not dead yet,” were heard, and then Chauncey Shaeffer regaled the crowd with the information that he got his first meal, with liquor thrown in, at Tammany Hall, sixteen years before, and he would never desert her. Shaeffer told the Tammanyites how he had gone to the White House and advised the President to let out the job of putting down the rebellion to Tammany Hall. Cries broke forth of, “You’re drunk, Shaeffer!” “You’re a disgrace to Tammany Hall.” After trying to sing “The Red, White and Blue,” Shaeffer stumbled off the platform. Isaiah Rynders then arose, and after denouncing the leaders for not being there, assured his hearers that there were many respectable gentlemen present and some d—d fools. This edifying meeting ended by “the chairman jumping from the platform and chasing a Wood man out of the room.”

Though no longer in office, Wood was still a powerful factor, since Mozart Hall, of which he was the head, could poll, or pretend to poll, 25,000 votes. Further overtures were made between him and the leaders of Tammany in 1862, with the result that an understanding was reached to divide the nominations equally. The partition was conducted amicably until the office of Surrogate was reached. Besides this there was an odd member of the Assembly not accounted for. The leaders could not agree as to how these two offices should be disposed of, and on the evening of October 2 the general committee met in the Wigwam to discuss the profound problem. Crowds were gathered inside and outside the hall, in the lobby, bar-room and on the stairs. The excitement was such that a squad of police was sent to the scene to maintain peace.