The life and times of John Kelly, tribune of the people

by J. Fairfax McLaughlin

CHAPTER V.

KELLY, AS ALDERMAN AND CONGRESSMAN—SKETCH OF MIKE WALSH—GREAT STRUGGLE FOR SPEAKERSHIP—STORMY DAYS IN CONGRESS—JOSHUA R. GIDDINGS PLAYS PART OF CASSANDRA—CULLEN OF DELAWARE TALKS OF EGGING THE CATHOLICS—KELLY REPLIES—READS IMPORTANT LETTER OF LAFAYETTE ON PRIESTS WHICH THE KNOW-NOTHINGS HAD GARBLED—KELLY THE ONLY CATHOLIC IN THE HOUSE.

Although a political rather than a chronological order has been observed in the preceding chapters, it is necessary now, for the preservation of important threads of the narrative, to speak of some events as they transpired.

John Kelly, then captain of that popular company the Emmet Guards, was elected Alderman for the Fourteenth Ward at the election in November, 1853, to serve for two years, beginning January 1st, 1854. Twenty-five or thirty years ago the people of the city of New York selected the strongest men in the community to represent them in the Board of Aldermen. To attain, at that period, the place of a City Father was an object of ambition with those who sought an attractive rank among their fellow-citizens, and many men were elected Aldermen who have since become famous in State and National politics. The Boards of which Mr. Kelly was a member in 1854-5, were exceptionally able bodies. At his election, November 8th, 1853, the whole number of votes cast for Alderman of the Fourteenth Ward was 1938, of which John Kelly received 1097; Thomas Wheelan, 566; and Morris Miller, 275. Mr. Kelly’s majority over all was 256. He was a member of the Committee on the Almshouse Department in the Board of Aldermen, and of the Committee on Annual Taxes in the Board of Supervisors, the latter body being composed of the Mayor, Recorder and Board of Aldermen. The Aldermanic list for 1854 contains the well-known names of Nathan C. Ely, President of the Peter Cooper Insurance Company, and also President of the Board of Aldermen; William Boardman, jun.; Abram Wakeman, Amor J. Williamson, Thomas Christy, Anson Herrick, Daniel D. Lord, John Kelly, Richard Mott and Thomas Woodward. To these were added, in 1855, Isaac O. Barker, who succeeded Mr. Ely as President of the Board, Orison Blunt, William Chauncey, George W. Varian, and others, the new members taking the seats of those whose terms expired in 1854.

Mr. Kelly’s aptitude for affairs was soon recognized by his fellow members. President Barker placed him on no less than five committees in his second year in the Board, and appointed him chairman of the most important committee of the body—that on Annual Taxes in the Board of Supervisors. The members of this Committee were John Kelly, Henry R. Hoffmire and Daniel D. Lord. The Know-Nothings were then powerful in New York, and John Kelly was their sleepless opponent in the Board of Aldermen. His constituents were warmly attached to the man, and duly appreciated his services in official life. Some even went so far as to predict that he would soon become a dangerous rival to the celebrated Mike Walsh, then in the meridian of his popularity. Kelly and Walsh both lived in the Fourth Congressional District, and the latter was at that time representing the District with great acceptability in the Thirty-third Congress. The prediction was verified, and Kelly became Walsh’s competitor at the ensuing election. The interest which this contest excited was not confined to the city, but extended to all parts of the State of New York. The plan adopted in these pages of giving outline sketches of the more conspicuous men with whose names that of Mr. Kelly has been associated in political controversies, certainly cannot be disregarded in the case of Mike Walsh, that wayward genius, gifted orator, and child of misfortune.

Michael Walsh was born in the town of Bandon, County Cork, Ireland, in 1815, and came to this country with his parents when he was a child. His father was an intelligent, industrious, hard working man, and the owner of a mahogany yard in Washington Street, New York. He entertained peculiar views in regard to a republican form of government, and on that account never became a citizen of the United States. His son Michael possessed a great deal of talent, and was educated at St. Peter’s school in Barclay Street. When he was about sixteen years of age his father indentured him to a lithographer at Broadway and Fulton Street, with whom he learned that business. He was hardly twenty-one when he began to be exceedingly active in political affairs in New York, and the whole country. As an orator, for his age, he had probably no equal. He possessed literary ability, and was equally ready with pen or tongue. His forte, however, was sarcasm, and unfortunately for himself he had an unrivaled knack for coining slang expressions. Many of the slang sayings peculiar to New York at this day were invented by Mike Walsh. He was naturally humorous, and was endowed with powers of mimicry that would have made his fortune on the stage. He could describe the weaknesses of human nature, and lay bare the motives which influenced public men in their actions with a mastery which no other man of his time possessed.

He was elected to the lower branch of the Legislature of New York before he was twenty-one years of age, and although he had little or no business ability, he distinguished himself in the House by his fine oratorical powers. His speeches were not only interesting and amusing, but often full of information. Without previous thought or reflection, he could make a capital off-hand speech, expressing his views very intelligently, and enlisting the attention of his audience throughout. The Democratic party in New York, at that period, was under the control and influence of men who had very little respect for Walsh, as his manners were not only objectionable, but sometimes his language was abusive. He was very strong, notwithstanding, with the people, and on that account was feared by the leaders. He was re-elected to the Assembly several times. He established and edited a paper which he called “The Subterranean,” and his squibs, sometimes clever but often coarse, were sent forth in its columns. There was a furniture dealer in the Fifth Ward named John Horsepool, between whom and Walsh a bitter feud existed. Several times Horsepool had him arrested for libel. At last “The Subterranean” belched forth an angrier flame than usual, and Horsepool got his revenge. Walsh was indicted, tried and convicted, and sent for a short term to the penitentiary. But this served to excite sympathy for him and increase his popularity. He was a very companionable man, was full of anecdote, and had a very retentive memory. He recollected, without particular effort, nearly everything he had ever read, and if called upon would recount a story or any other matter with great precision. Among his companions, for several years, were Tom Hyer, the pugilist, and Jack Haggarty, son of the old New York auctioneer of that name. They generally made their headquarters at the Hone House, a hostelry kept by Morgan L. Mott. This was formerly the private residence of Philip Hone, and took its name from him. Walsh and his coterie would gather together here daily, and relate stories and anecdotes of their checkered experiences. Having no business occupations and some money to spend, they all shortened their days by the immoderate use of alcoholic stimulants. As long as Mike Walsh survived he was the life of the company. During the Presidential canvass of 1844 Walsh formed a political organization on the East Side of New York city, which he named the Spartan Band. This body was in opposition to the Empire Club of Captain Isaiah Rynders. Both of these clubs were exceedingly active during the Polk and Dallas campaign, and rendered efficient service to the Democratic ticket. Walsh was proud of the influence he wielded over his men, and of the power his position brought to him as a leader. The singular notion occurred to him of giving high-sounding titles to his several lieutenants, and he consequently called them after the distinguished French Marshals who fought in the wars of Napoleon the First. All the men who were prominent in those days in the Spartan Band and Empire Club have long since passed away, with the exception of Captain Rynders, who still figures in New York politics at eighty-one, as erect of carriage and almost as brisk of step as he was fifty years ago.[22]

A curious anecdote is told of the way in which Mike Walsh and David C. Broderick, subsequently Senator from California, ceased to be friends. After Walsh was sentenced to Blackwell’s Island, an understanding is said to have been reached between them that Walsh should commit suicide on his way to the penitentiary by jumping from the ferry-boat into the East River. Walsh being regarded as the champion of the poor as against the rich, and many believing he had been sentenced to Blackwell’s Island because of his advocacy of the interests of the poor, his death in the manner indicated, it was thought, would be avenged by his followers as that of a martyr in their cause. In view of the disgrace visited upon him, Walsh is said to have promised Broderick that he would sacrifice his life by drowning, and thus stir up the vengeance of the populace in retaliation upon his and their oppressors. But Walsh showed better sense than to do so foolish a thing, and Broderick became his enemy, and branded him as a coward, because he did not kill himself according to promise.

During the summer months Mike Walsh was in the habit of frequently sleeping all night in one or another of the parks of the city, because, as he claimed, the night air hardened his constitution. For the same reason he seldom wore an overcoat in winter. He was an inveterate joker, and was in his element whenever he could play a trick on the unwary or uninitiated. He was the author of the Frank McLoughlin hoax, which all old New Yorkers will remember. McLoughlin was a noted sporting man in New York forty years ago, and a great toast among horse men, pugilists, and like people of that day. He was one of the California pioneers of 1849 when the gold excitement broke out. In a few years he returned to New York. Mike Walsh happened to be passing through the City Hall Park, and met McLoughlin as he was on his way from the ship to the house of his relatives.

“Well, Frank,” said Mike, “I see you have returned.”