The ferry-boat then touching either side was only the thump of one great
municipal heart. It was plain to me that this greater Metropolis,
standing at the gate of this continent, would have to decide the moral
and political destinies of the whole country.

Prior to the November Elections in 1877, the only cheering phase of
politics in Brooklyn and New York was that there were no lower political
depths to reach.

There was in New York at that time political infamy greater than the
height of Trinity Church steeple, more stupendous in finance than the
$10,000,000 spent in building their new Court House. It was a fact that
the most notorious gambler in the United States was to get the
nomination for the high office of State Senator. Both Democrats and
Republicans struggled for his election--John Morrisey, hailed as a
reformer! On behalf of all the respectable homes of Brooklyn and New
York I protested against his election. He had been indicted for
burglary, indicted for assault and battery with intent to kill, indicted
eighteen times for maintaining gambling places in different parts of the
country. He almost made gambling respectable. Tweed trafficked in
contracts, Morrisey in the bodies and souls of young men. The District
Attorney of New York advocated him, and prominent Democrats talked
themselves hoarse for him. This nomination was a determined effort of
the slums of New York to get representation in the State Government. It
was argued that he had _reformed_. The police of New York knew better.

In Brooklyn the highest local offices in 1877, those of the Collector,
Police Commissioners, Fire Commission, Treasurer, and the City Works
Commissioners, were under the control of one Patrick Shannon, owner of
two gin mills. Wearing the mask of reformers the most astute and