Newspaper accounts described a lively time, quite in keeping with a long line of precedents, in Tammany Hall on election night. The crowd was in unpleasant humor because of Gunther’s defeat. When “Jimmy” Nesbit, a good-natured heeler of the Sixth Ward, was called upon to preside, he tried to evoke cheers for Gunther. Chafing at the lack of enthusiasm, he swore fiercely at his hearers. A shout was heard, “Three cheers for Fernando Wood,” whereupon the eminent chairman lost his equanimity and let fly a pitcher at the offender’s head. He was on the point of heaving another missile, a large pewter pitcher, but a bystander caught his hand. Cries of “Tammany is not dead yet,” were heard, and then Chauncey Shaeffer regaled the crowd with the information that he got his first meal, with liquor thrown in, at Tammany Hall, sixteen years before, and he would never desert her. Shaeffer told the Tammanyites how he had gone to the White House and advised the President to let out the job of putting down the rebellion to Tammany Hall. Cries broke forth of, “You’re drunk, Shaeffer!” “You’re a disgrace to Tammany Hall.” After trying to sing “The Red, White and Blue,” Shaeffer stumbled off the platform. Isaiah Rynders then arose, and after denouncing the leaders for not being there, assured his hearers that there were many respectable gentlemen present and some d--d fools. This edifying meeting ended by “the chairman jumping from the platform and chasing a Wood man out of the room.” Though no longer in office, Wood was still a powerful factor, since Mozart Hall, of which he was the head, could poll, or pretend to poll, 25,000 votes. Further overtures were made between him and the leaders of Tammany in 1862, with the result that an understanding was reached to divide the nominations equally. The partition was conducted amicably until the office of Surrogate was reached. Besides this there was an odd member of the Assembly not accounted for. The leaders could not agree as to how these two offices should be disposed of, and on the evening of October 2 the general committee met in the Wigwam to discuss the profound problem. Crowds were gathered inside and outside the hall, in the lobby, bar-room and on the stairs. The excitement was such that a squad of police was sent to the scene to maintain peace. Their services were needed. Heated discussions had been going on all the evening. Richard B. Connolly had his “party” on hand, eager for the fray. Francis I. A. Boole mustered his retainers by the score--“fine strapping fellows, with upturned sleeves and significant red shirts that told of former battles and hard-earned laurels.” At 11 o’clock the fighting began. It had not progressed far, however, when the police charged, and wielding their clubs right and left, drove the combatants in disorder into the street. The committee was in session nearly all night, but a renewal of the scrimmage was not attempted.