A. Yes, sir. In fact one man had forgotten his name and turned to the man who brought him in, and said, “What is that?”--and he told him, “John Kelly,” or whatever the name was.--Vol. i., p. 130-1. As a pendant to this scene take the following description of what happened at a previous election, where Mr. Thomas F. Harrington, Republican watcher, who had been challenging repeaters, was set upon by one Whitty, an ex-convict, as he was returning to the polling place to attend to his duties. Whitty was carrying a club and a revolver. Harrington argued with him, fearing that “they meant to inflict punishment upon me,” and remonstrated against causing blood to be spilled on election day. Whitty, however, held on to his man, whereupon, said Harrington:-- I grabbed him by the throat with my left hand and went to strike him with my right, when the two officers (who had been standing watching Whitty’s attack) rushed. One officer grabbed me by the coat and raised his club to strike me, and I told him if he struck me I would kill him where he stood, and a friend of mine came forward to help me, and the other officer rushed out and grabbed him, and up with his stick to strike him; they did not take hold of this Whitty at all; it was me and my friend they took hold of. Q. And these policemen made no move to protect you in any wise in this assault, until you began to defend yourself? A. No, sir. Q. And then they laid hold of you and of your friend? A. Yes, sir.--Vol. i., p. 135. “We are in the business of carrying elections,” said Boss Tweed, and a very successful business Tammany has made of it. But what becomes of popular sovereignty, of the majesty of the ballot, of the sacred privileges of citizenship? [Illustration: MR. VAN WYCK. First Mayor of Greater New York.] [Illustration: From the _Journal_, New York.] PART III. HAMSTRUNG CÆSARISM AS A REMEDY. CHAPTER I. DESPAIRING DEMOCRACY. Despair is a strong word, nor can the citizens be rightly said to despair of the Republic while they are still engaged in making energetic efforts for its salvation. In the strict sense of the word, therefore, it is absurd to speak of a despairing democracy, which is still struggling to avert its threatened doom. But for democracy in the English sense of the word there is no longer any struggle in the City of New York. The ablest and the most hopeful Americans have given it up as a bad job, so far at least as city government is concerned. Hence, it is no misnomer to speak of Despairing Democracy as the natural and, perhaps, inevitable consequence of the display of “Satan’s Invisible World,” a few hints and glimpses of which have been afforded in the preceding chapters.