The Secrets of the Great City | Page 9

has
attained any considerable rank in the vocation which he professes. If
we were to print the list here, not a name would be generally
recognized. Honest Christopher Pullman, for example, who leads the

honest minority of six that vainly oppose every scheme of plunder, is a
young man of twenty- seven, just beginning business as a cabinet
maker. Honest William B. White, another of the six, is the manager of
a printing office. Honest Stephen Roberts is a sturdy smith, who has a
shop near a wharf for repairing the iron work of ships. Morris A. Tyng,
another of the honest six, is a young lawyer getting into practice. We
make no remark upon these facts, being only desirous to show the
business standing of the men to whom the citizens of New York have
confided the spending of sundry millions per annum. The majority of
this board are about equal, in point of experience and ability, to the
management of an oyster stand in a market. Such expressions as 'them
laws,' 'sot the table,' '71st rigiment,' and 'them arguments is played out,'
may be heard on almost any Monday or Thursday afternoon, between
two and three o'clock, in this sumptuous chamber.
But what most strikes and puzzles the stranger is the crowd of
spectators outside the railing. It is the rogues' gallery come to life, with
here and there an honest looking laborer wearing the garments of his
calling. We attended six sessions of this 'honorable body,' and on every
occasion there was the same kind of crowd looking on, who sat the
session out. Frequently we observed looks and words of recognition
pass between the members and this curious audience; and, once, we
saw a member gayly toss a paper of tobacco to one of them, who
caught it with pleasing dexterity. We are unable to explain the regular
presence of this great number of the unornamental portion of our
fellow-beings, since we could never see any indications that any of the
crowd had an interest in the proceedings. As the debates are never
reported by any one of the seventeen reporters who are paid two
hundred dollars a year for not doing it, and as the educated portion of
the community never attend the sessions, this board sits, practically,
with closed doors. Their schemes are both conceived and executed in
secresy, though the door is open to all who wish to enter. This is the
more surprising, because almost every session of the board furnishes
the material for a report, which an able and public-spirited journalist
would gladly buy at the highest price paid for such work in any city.
Debates is a ludicrous word to apply to the proceedings of the

Councilmen. Most of the business done by them is pushed through
without the slightest discussion, and is of such a nature that members
cannot be prepared to discuss it. The most reckless haste marks every
part of the performance. A member proposes that certain lots be
provided with curbstones; another, that a free drinking hydrant be
placed on a certain corner five miles up town; and another, that certain
blocks of a distant street be paved with Belgian pavement. Respecting
the utility of these works, members generally know nothing and can say
nothing; nor are they proper objects of legislation. The resolutions are
adopted, usually, without a word of explanation, and at a speed that
must be seen to be appreciated.
* * * * *
At almost every session we witnessed scenes like the following: A
member proposed to lease a certain building for a city court at two
thousand dollars a year for ten years. Honest Christopher Pullman, a
faithful and laborious public servant, objected, on one or two grounds;
first, rents being unnaturally high, owing to several well known and
temporary causes, it would be unjust to the city to fix the rent at present
rates for so long a period; secondly, he had been himself to see the
building, had taken pains to inform himself as to its value, and was
prepared to prove that twelve hundred dollars a year was a proper rent
for it even at the inflated rates. He made this statement with excellent
brevity, moderation, and good temper, and concluded by moving that
the term be two instead of ten years. A robust young man, with a bull
neck and of ungrammatical habits, said, in a tone of impatient disdain,
that the landlord of the building had 'refused' fifteen hundred dollars a
year for it. 'Question!' 'Question!' shouted half a dozen angry voices,
the question was instantly put, when a perfect war of noes voted down
Mr. Pullman's amendment. Another hearty chorus of ayes
consummated the iniquity. In all such affairs, the visitor notices a kind
of 'ungovernable