Postcard Thursday: Samuel Tilden

Tomorrow marks the 204th birthday of Samuel Jones Tilden, lawyer, governor of New York, and man who won the presidency in 1876 -- only to have it stolen from him in some Electoral College shenanigans.

As we write in Inside the Apple:

In the history of American politics, there is no presidential election as contentious as the 1876 contest between New York Governor Samuel J. Tilden and Ohio Governor Rutherford B. Hayes. 

Tilden, famous for his prosecution of William “Boss” Tweed was billed as the Reform-minded outsider Democrat who could combat the corruption that had flowered in Washington under President Ulysses S. Grant. The party hoped that Tilden, despite his basically chilly demeanor, could appeal to northerners and southerners alike....

 As the votes rolled in, the press was generally reporting that Tilden had won.

However, the New York Times, sensing that the election would be close in Louisiana, South Carolina, Oregon, and Florida, prepared an editorial that ran the next day entitled “A Doubtful Election,” laying out the scenario that the election still hung in the balance. After meeting with Republican leaders, the Times managing editor, John Reid, sent telegrams to Republican governors in the disputed states: Hayes is elected if we have carried South Carolina, Florida, and Louisiana. Can you hold your state? Answer immediately. 

When the governors replied that they could try to “hold” their states—despite election returns tilting in Tilden’s favor—the most fractious post-election period in American history began. Not even the Gore/Bush imbroglio in 2000 can match the months that followed November 1876. In canvasses roiled by partisanship, the three southern states in dispute certified two sets of returns and sent them to Washington—one for Hayes and one for Tilden. With the votes from those states thus rendered void, neither candidate had a majority....

In the end, a commission was appointed to determine the winner. "Along completely partisan lines, the commission voted 8-7 in favor of Hayes in each disputed case, giving him the electoral votes he needed to secure the presidency."

Tilden is also known today for his house -- which is actually two side-by-side townhouses that he bought and joined together -- that are now home to The National Arts Club. James wrote a story of the club's history, including Tilden's renovation of the home, for Curbed New York which you can read at https://ny.curbed.com/2014/5/27/10095666/the-dramatic-history-of-gramercy-parks-national-arts-club.

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Read more about New York City history in our two books:

Footprints in New York: Tracing the Lives of Four Centuries of New Yorkers
and

Inside the Apple: A Streetwise History of New York City

National Arts Club Mansion Shills Potato Chips

The National Arts Club has had a hard time of it recently -- accusations of hoarding, fiscal impropriety, and, most recently, the sacking of the club's longtime dining room manager while he was on vacation.

But it's not all doom and gloom on Gramercy Park. Have you seen that Lay's ad that's been playing during the Olympics?

The ad features celebrity chef Michael Symon and Eva Longoria asking America to help Lay's come up with the next great potato chip flavor. Most of the ad is filmed in the environs of Madison Square Park, but it begins with Symon bounding down the steps of one of the National Arts Club's entrances.* The shot shows off the club's Victorian red sandstone facade to good effect. The facade is the handiwork of Calvert Vaux (co-architect of Central Park) who renovated the mansion in the 1870s when it was the home of New York Governor Samuel Jones Tilden.

Tilden ran for president -- and won -- in 1876 but was denied the presidency. His home languished for years after his death until the National Arts Club bought it in the first decade of the 20th century, renovated it, and built the apartment building on 19th Street that has been the center of much of its recent controversy.

* The National Arts Club is actually two old townhouses, 14 and 15 Gramercy Park, combined into one giant house. Club members use the entrance at 15 Gramercy Park; the ad shows the entrance at 14 Gramercy.

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Read more about Samuel J. Tilden, the contested election of 1876, and
architect Calvert Vaux in

Inside the Apple

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Boss Tweed Escapes!

Today, December 4, marks the anniversary of William M. "Boss" Tweed's escape in 1875 from the Ludlow Street Jail on the Lower East Side. (The jail stood on the site now occupied by Seward Park High School.)

To recap the story up to this point: in 1871 Tweed had been arrested for embezzling from New York City; he was accused of lining his pockets with everything from the rental of the city's armories to fake carpenter's contracts at the New York County Courthouse on Chambers Street. As we point out in Inisde the Apple, the projected final costs of the courthouse--now known universally as the Tweed Courthouse--made it twice as expensive as William Seward's purchase of Alaska.

Tweed was successfully prosecuted by Samuel J. Tilden, who would go on to be New York's governor and the 1876 Democratic nominee for the presidency. Tweed was convicted of multiple misdemeanor counts and sentenced to twelve years in prison. However, in doing so, the sentencing judge had violated New York State law, which stipulates a maximum one-year incarceration for misdemeanors. Tweed was freed in 1875, but Tilden, now governor, immediately had him re-arrested. The state had civil charges pending against Tweed and didn't want him to flee the jurisdiction.

Tweed was transferred to the Ludlow Street Jail, but on most days his sympathetic jailers allowed him out to enjoy carriage rides in Central Park or visit with his family. On December 4, after a long day out, Tweed asked to visit his wife, who he claimed was ill. Soon after arriving at his home on Madison Avenue, Tweed excused himself to go upstairs. A few minutes later Tweed's two minders asked someone to fetch the Boss as it was getting late and they needed to get back to Ludlow Street. Moments later, Tweed's son Richard came down the stairs and announced: "Father's gone."

The embarrassed sheriff, William C. Conner, immediately issued a $10,000 reward for Tweed's return. However, the police had few leads and though the newspapers filled their pages over the next few days with speculation as to his whereabouts and erroneous Tweed sightings, it soon seemed that Tweed was gone for good.

He wasn't, of course, but that's a story for another day....

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Read more about Boss Tweed in
Inside the Apple: A Streetwise History of New York City.

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