Customer Reviews

Boss Tweed: The Rise and Fall of the Corrupt Pol Who Conceived the Soul of Modern New York

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"I recently got my hands on an advance copy of Ken Ackerman's new BOSS TWEED book and stayed up all night to finish it. It's that good! Ackerman blows to bits all the tired old stereotypes about Tweed and brings the old Boss into vivid focus, an awesome presence that jumps off the pages. It's a story of highs and lows, pride and tragedy, backroom deals, treachery, ambition, and politics played with raw abandon. Thomas Nast (his cartoons are everywhere in the book), the New-York Times, and Sam Tilden all figure prominently, but with unexpected twists. In the end, Ackerman makes no excuses for Tweed's crimes, but still finds a core of integrity in the man that carries the story. Politicians today, the sorry lot they are, could learn a few good tricks from old Boss Tweed."

This is an enlightening, meticulous story of William "Boss" Tweed and, as past of the context, his three key cronies in the ring: Peter Sweeny, Richard Connolly and Oakley Hall. It is a story about how the New York Times elevated itself by getting the goods on corruption and bravely exposing it on the front page. Oh how the mighty have fallen!

The time of power (terror?) for Tweed's edition of Tammany Hall was relatively short, but Tammany Hall power lingered well after Tweed's demise, another eithy-five years. The critical moment to the story is when Tweed engineers the proverbial license to steal by devising a new charter for New York City, putting the power in the hands of his incredibly greedy ring of thieves. The four took this opportunity to carve out a fortune for themselves, primarily by paying millions of dollars for a courthouse that should have cost a few hundred thousand to build. A disgruntled 'whistleblower' (the term had no meaning back then) copied over the records in enough detail to demonstrate the bold theft and fraud. There are several versions of how the blockbuster story of the padded expenses and outright theft came into the Times' hands, but the remarkable part of the story is just how brazen the "Ring" could be, how convinced they were of their own invincibility or ability to bribe, cheat and steal their way out of any legal investigation or hearings. People who today believe we live in an era of unbridled corporate greed and ethical lapses need to read this book to better understand how much the supposed watchdog and people's friend -- the government -- can be part of the problem and a barrier to the solution.

The cast of characters, sinners, (few) saints, and masses of immigrants makes following the flow of the book sometimes a challenging task. Thomas Nast, a pivotal character if not the hero of the book, provides some vivid, visual signposts. Nast not only draws a compelling picture for often illiterate 'readers', he was one of the first to put a face on public figures who heretofore had not been subjected to portraits or paparazzi as are today's politicians. Nast's giving Tweed a face may have been one of the breakthrough aspects of this story. It certainly helped catch Tweed when he jumped bail. A few maps, perhaps some old drawings, and even a list of key characters could have perhaps clarified some of the story or reduced my thumbing back to previous pages or checking the index for the entry and bio of important members of the cast. There are some historic New York Times front page stories that help create atmosphere and context.

Any reasonably educated American should have learned at least the sketchy details of Tweed's nefarious deeds and Nast's colorful cartoons. Ackerman does an excellent job of documenting and detailing, filling in the gaps, and bringing now faded, black-and-white characters back to life.

The illustrations prompted me to buy this book, political satire and cartoons fascinate me. Thomas Nast and Harpers Ferry produced some exceptional work on Boss Tweed. Even less balanced than journalism of today - editorial cartoons had superb artwork and were very vicious.

The author provides a well written, lucid and balanced portrait of a politician who was very corrupt (by any standard) but achieved alot. The courthouse he was responsible for building (and was sentenced in)is a great monument for Tweed; most ironic.

The author demonstares well the long term impact Tweed had on New York City. Great book - an empathetic account of a fascinating man.

Kenneth Ackerman's "Boss Tweed: The Rise and Fall of the Corrupt Pol Who Conceived the Soul of Modern New York" is a brilliant look back at one of New York's--and America's--most notorious figures. While William M. Tweed is portrayed in an occasional sympathetic light, Ackerman steers clear of moralizing for the most part. This isn't easy when you consider the scope of the Tweed Ring's criminal activity. In the long run, and perhaps intentionally, Tweed comes off a little better than his ring members, and certainly less devious than others who walked away from their years of crime (read: Jay Gould and Jim Fisk).

The cast of the book reads like a Who's Who of 19th Century New York: Tilden, Nast, Greeley, Bryant, Gould, Fisk, etc. Peppered with a generous heaping of illustrations and photos, the book is well-paced, slowing down only to explain the intricacies of the deceptions and the "laundering" of the stolen funds.

More important, the book gives us a rare glimpse of what life was like in mid-19th Century New York: that includes daily life, as well as political. If there is anything negative to say, it's about the subtitle. I'm not convinced that Tweed "conceived the soul of modern New York". A lot of other people can take that credit (or blame, depending on your point of view). But I'm nit-picking. Treat yourself to this history!

Rocco Dormarunno
Author of THE FIVE POINTS CONCLUDED

This is a wonderful look not only at Tweed himself, but a vivid account of the political machine controlling Manhattan in the late 1800s. We get a great look at Boss Tweed and his own life, as well as a vivid and colorful look at the many other personalities surrounding him. Governor Samuel Tilden,Mayor Oakey Hall, and Sheriff Jimmy O'Brien are a few of the cronies we are introduced to, as well as the infamous "boss" William M. Tweed.
Myself a New Yorker, I found it interesting to see the events shaping NY City, and the ways in which New Yorkers were held hostage to the massively powerful grip of Tammany Hall.

Mr. Ackerman, a very fine writer, does a good job of telling the basic tale of the Tweed Ring and New York City's Tammany Hall of the late 1860s and 1870s. However, I think toward the end of the book the author strays into loving his subject at the expense of a balanced historical view of the self-confessed public thief that was Boss Tweed. For example, Mr. Ackerman often describes Tweed after his fall from power as elderly and thus worthy of compassion-- when in fact he was only 55 at death. We are invited to have sympathy for Tweed just because most other public thieves in the Ring evaded justice. Great detail is gone into about the hardships on Tweed when he chose to fly from custody and disappeared on a long seasick voyage before being brought back to New York from Spain. Much is made of the vast sums he spent on his legal defense, which in the end sadly depleted his personal treasury, which as I recall was built only on graft. I'm sorry--the guy was a crook who blasted honest government and deserved more punishment than he got.

Perhaps author Kenneth Ackerman and the publishers of "Boss Tweed" can be accused of misrepresenting the book in the subtitle. There is hardly any of Tweed's rise to be found. Virtually the entire book covers the latter years of Tweed's time at the top and then his fall. But oh what a story it is and what a wonderful job Ackerman does of telling it.
Tweed was the iconic big city boss of New Yeark in the years form the Civil War through the start of the gilded age.
Tweed and his cronies brazenly pocketed enormous sums of public money and lived as veritable kings. Indeed, Tweed himself was a king-sized person (over 300 pounds) who lived a king-sized life.
The manner in which he and various other big shots of Tammany Hall siphoned money from city coffers is an amazing story of guile and greed.
Also at the heart of the story are those who sought to bring Tweed and company down (ultimately succeeding, of course) notably eventual New York governor and presidential hopeful Samuel Tilden, and the brilliant political cartoonist Thomas Nast (about whom a worthy full length biography is due).
Ackerman tells the whole of how the might fell and how Tweed took the brunt of that fall for his gang. Included is the story of Tweed's jail time and ill-fated escape from prison out of the country.
Ackerman's book is an important work in understanding post Civil War America, the ways and means of corruption and he nature of political power gone bad.
In Ackerman's more than capable hands Tweed is brought to life. He does not so much render sympathy as he does a bit of admiration. For from the distance of over a century later we can enjoy this corrupt pol for the entertaining stories and cautionary tales that his life provides.

If you are an avid student of U.S. history, you have no doubt come across frequent references to New York City's legendary Tammany Hall. So just what was Tammany Hall anyway? Tammany Hall evolved from a fraternal organization founded in 1789 known as the Society of St. Tammany. Tammany Hall embraced recent immigrants and the workingmen of the city. Eventually, under the direction of one William Tweed, this organization would join forces with the Democratic party and emerge as the most powerful political organization in the nation. In "Boss Tweed: The Rise and Fall of the Corrupt Pol Who Conveived the Soul of Modern New York" author Kenneth Ackerman documents the rise and fall of Tammany Halls most famous and controversial leader. It is compelling reading.

The story of "Boss Tweed" is not quite as cut and dried as you might think. Certainly there was corruption of monumental proportions. The foursome that would forever be known as "Tweed Ring" included Tweed himself (Commissioner of Public Works), Peter B. Sweeny (Public Parks Board), Richard Connelly (Comptroller) and A. Oakey Hall (Mayor). With the passage of "home rule" for NYC by the state legislature in 1870, the stage was now set for the "Tweed Ring" to wreak havoc with New York city's finances. That legislation, which was backed by Tweed himelf in Albany was a recipe for disaster. With virtually no checks and balances in place, it has been estimated that between 45 and 200 million dollars was swindled from the City. By 1871, New York City was a house of cards ready to crumble. It would take the courageous leadership of a number of prominent individuals, most notably cartoonist Thomas Nast of Harper's Weekly, George Jones and Louis Jennings of the New York Times and future presidential candidate Samuel Tilden to finally bring the "Tweed Ring" to its knees.

But as Ackerman points out there was another side to William Tweed. He possessed genuine empathy for the recently arrived immigrant and the workingmen of his city. To many such people he provided a patronage job and hope for a bright future in a new land. Tweed was also a visionary. It was Tweed who essentially laid the foundation for what would become the modern New York City. As you will see, this was an exceptionally talented yet fatally flawed individual. It might be hard to believe but by the end of his life William Tweed had actually become a rather sympathetic figure. How the mighty had fallen!

As I mentioned earlier, there have been references to Tammany Hall in any number of books I have read in the past few years. By reading "Boss Tweed" I now possess a far greater understanding of the pivotal role that this organization played in the history of New York City. This knowledge will certainly enhance my future reading. "Boss Tweed" is an extremely informative and well written book that can be enjoyed by a large cross section of readers. Highly recommended.

Without rancor or bile, Ackerman brings Boss Tweed back from the grave. Without moralizing or proselytizing, Boss Treed and his New York is laid out in its finery for all to view. The idea that Tweed was the root stock of political corruption is also laid to rest. Great read.

In my little town, we have councilmen who from time to time might be accused of taking unfair economic advantage of their jobs. In Washington now, House Majority Leader Tom DeLay is accused of various instances of taking gifts and bonuses to which he was not entitled. Along with political power at any level comes the ability to use it for one's own financial benefit, always with the hope that no investigative reporter will come asking questions and upsetting the comfortable situation. There are hundreds of instances of financial corruption by politicians, and then there is William Magear "Boss" Tweed, whose name is synonymous with being on the take. In _Boss Tweed: The Rise and Fall of the Corrupt Pol Who Conceived the Soul of Modern New York_ (Carroll & Graf), Kenneth D. Ackerman has given an entertaining account of the life of a rascal. Tweed was, in his way, brilliant. He liked people, and he knew how to get them what they wanted if they would just play his game. He had a superb organizational memory, for favors done and for amounts given. As Ackerman writes, "except for his stealing, he would have been a great man; but then had he been honest, he wouldn't have been Tweed and would not have left nearly so great a mark." He did leave his mark on New York, in structures like the Tweed Courthouse, and even the Brooklyn Bridge (or at least he said he had handed out bribes to approve a bond for it). He is remembered for none of what he did, though, except for his stealing, which was for decades more successful and exuberant than any American politician ever, or any that has so far been caught.

Tweed practiced local politics in Tammany Hall, the political organization for the powerful Manhattan Democratic Party. Tammany corruption was an open secret. Tweed got things done within the city, but took his fee for doing so; he and his circle would skim 15% from city contracts, and contractors would agree to pay 35% on all bills in order to have the city's business. Tweed himself was welcomed into the boards of many corporations. He didn't mind his constituents (many of whom were poor Irish immigrants) seeing how well he was doing. He had two yachts, a race horse, a Greenwich estate, a grand Fifth Avenue mansion, and an immense ten and a half carat diamond stickpin that clearly informed any onlooker who was Boss. The stickpin was one of the visual hooks (Tweed's 300 pound frame was another) that Thomas Nast used in his many political cartoons critical of the Boss. Nast and _Harper's_ had no hard evidence that the Boss was stealing; they just harnessed the universal conviction that Tammany was corrupt. The articles exposing Tweed came from the _New-York Times_, which was eager for any facts against the Boss. A bookkeeper in the comptroller's office painstakingly copied one dry financial document after another, and brought the newspaper incontestable evidence of fraud. The problem with the _Times_ stories was that obviously millions had been taken, but there was no one culprit; a Nast cartoon showed a circle of suspects all pointing to the guy on the right.

The "audit trail" was eventually puzzled out by Samuel Tilden, who rode his reform record to nomination for president in 1876. Tweed was arrested, and all the weight of his circle's crimes landed on him, as everyone else went free, not of obloquy but of prison sentences. While Tweed was in jail, he was able to buy favors, and while on a visit home, he disappeared, taking a jaunt to New Jersey, Florida, Cuba, and Spain, where a Nast cartoon was used to help identify him for arrest. He was returned to his New York jail. Tweed knew he had the press to blame for his capture, but was grudgingly admiring of them: "If I could have bought newspapermen as easily as I did members of the Legislature, I wouldn't be in the fix I am now." He made a deal that he would confess everything in order to regain his freedom. He did make a full confession (perhaps too full, taking credit for thefts he had nothing to do with), and was double-crossed, dying in jail in 1878. He had lost his fortune, his wife, and his family, but New York had grown because of him, and even the poor were faring better because of his machinations. Hundreds of workers showed up for his funeral, and thought he had been merely the victim of political malice. This sort of ambiguity shoots through Ackerman's fine book; if we must have selfish scoundrels in our current politics, let us vote in the colorful ones like Boss Tweed.