Stephen H. Branch’s Alligator.

NEW YORK, SATURDAY, JULY 24, 1858.

STEPHEN H. BRANCH’S “ALLIGATOR” can be obtained at all hours, at wholesale and retail, at No. 114 Nassau Street, (Second Story), near Ann Street, New York.

My Indictment for Libel.

When I was a little boy, a classic youth passed me, on a bright summer day, in Westminster street, in Providence, Rhode Island, whose name was Sylvester S. Southworth. His cheeks were so rosy, and his form so beautiful, and his face so graceful, that I paused and gazed until he descended my farthest horizon. In later years, I formed his acquaintance, and he became my friend, and in all my vicissitudes, he has evinced the fidelity of an affectionate brother. When William Tell was about to hurl an arrow at the temples of his child, he inquired, in the presence of Gesler: “Have I a friend here?” when a brave youth leaped forth, and exclaimed: “Yes, Tell, you have,” which thrilled the populace with delight, and made Gesler tremble. On Wednesday last, when in custody of the Sheriff, and in pursuit of bail, I looked in the direction of Heaven, and I could see a friend there, in the spirit of my lamented Father, but in the cheerless pavement, and in the cold faces of the multitude, I could discern no friend, and my poor heart was bereft of its wonted buoyancy. But when Mr. Joyce, the kind hearted Sheriff, accompanied me to the editorial room of Sylvester S. Southworth, of the New York Mercury, and I inquired: “Have I a friend here?” he sprang and seized my hands, and exclaimed: “Yes, Branch, you have,” and he became my bail, and my heart bounded from the gloom of a dungeon, to the liberty of a mountain. For twenty years, I have gratuitously written for the public journals of New York. For seven years, I wrote the Reports of Alfred Carson, against Municipal thieves, including Mayor Tiemann, who was then an Alderman. For two years, I pursued George W. Matsell, Richard B. Connolly, George H. Purser, and other perjured aliens. What I have suffered through severe toil and illness and penury, in my pursuit of public plunderers, and unnaturalized aliens, no inspired mind can ever truly describe. For three months past, I have exposed such bogus philanthropists and public thieves and rakes as Peter Cooper and Mayor Tiemann and Simeon Draper. And I most solemnly swear, that I will never cease my exposition of public robbers and villains of every grade, until the arrow of death penetrates the core of my heart. The Press and the People may conspire against me, and a Jury may soon consign me to the solitude of a dungeon, but while I enjoy the blessings of liberty, I will hurl shafts of political death at such monsters as Cooper and Tiemann and Draper, who have bamboozled and plundered the people for thirty successive years. So, come on, ye incarnate demons, and (through power and gold and bribes, and packed juries, and your official vassals and ruffians,) drag your victim to a prison or the scaffold, but God has erected a wall between you and my soul, that the sabres and bullets and verdicts of your hired assassins can never penetrate.

Pirates on the Captive and Pauper and Crazy Islands.

Gov. Anderson recently officially declared, that Gov. Isaac J. Oliver was a public robber. So that we have plunderers and Mistresses and Rakes on Randall’s and the adjacent isles. I thought I felt the shock of an earthquake last night. O God! thou art most forbearing, to spare the Tiemanns and Olivers so long. And if one of Thy most awful physical visitations should level the habitations of these two wicked men, do, O do spare their spotless wives and precious little ones. Read, citizens, read, and go home at sunset, and bar your doors, and do not permit your wives and lovely daughters to leave your presence, after the first pretty little star appears. And warn them to beware of the Tiemanns and Olivers, when they cross their path, as poison and death are in their gaze, and amorous and thievish motions.

From the New York Tribune of July 7.

“An Episode—How Contracts are Awarded— In the course of a controversy about the iron work of the Island Hospital, some remarks passed between Messrs. Oliver and Anderson more piquant than polite. Gov. Anderson said he did not want to hold any intercourse with so corrupt a man. Gov. Oliver would not take any notice of such language, except to hurl it back with scorn in the teeth of the one that uttered it. He dared any one to name a single fact that would show that he was corrupt. Gov. Anderson said that he was guilty of a very corrupt act when, in opening the bids for certain iron work, he endeavored to induce his fellow members on the Committee to give the contract to a man who was not the lowest bidder, more especially as they had since discovered that two of that bidder’s tools—one of them his foreman, and the other a Methodist parson in his interest—were among the bidders.

Gov. Oliver said he did not know anything about these two men; the reason he urged that the contract be awarded to his friend was because he liked to serve his friends, as the other Governors did theirs, (here several Governors protested against their names being called in question,) and because the lowest bidder did not do business in the city. Some other words passed between Messrs. Anderson and Oliver, evidently very much to the annoyance of the other members of the Board, who kept nervously remonstrating, and tried repeatedly, but in vain, to get the Board to adjourn.

The discussion wound up by Gov. Oliver asserting that if any charges could be brought against his integrity, he hoped they would be referred to a Committee; either he or Gov. Anderson was evidently unfit to sit in the Board.

Gov. Anderson said he was quite willing to refer the matter to a fair Committee, and if he did not substantiate the charge of corruption against Oliver, he would resign, provided that Oliver agreed, in case the charge was proved, to leave the Board.

At this interesting juncture, an indignant demand for adjournment from Gov. Maloney prevailed, and the troubled waters once more resumed their wonted tranquillity.

Subsequently the members opened the bids for the iron work on the Island Hospital. There were six bids, the highest being $26,875; the lowest, by J. B. & W. W. Cornell, $18,364.”

Gov. Anderson assures me that Oliver is a very corrupt man, and that he will soon give me the evidence of his corruption, which I will publish as soon as I receive it. The firemen will grieve to learn that Gov. Anderson, their faithful Ex-Chief Engineer, is indisposed, and seeks the bracing air of Long Island for his restoration. Anderson and Carson led the firemen long and bravely, and of the million inhabitants around us, there are no two gallant spirits whom I more profoundly revere than Cornelius V. Anderson and Alfred Carson. Both are the soul of chivalry and honor. And may they ever prosper, and be healthy and happy, and be warmly cherished by the firemen and by all good citizens.

From the New York Express of Tuesday last.

“A Novel Regatta.—Last Saturday afternoon, quite a novel exhibition of aquatic skill came off at Blackwell’s Island, on the occasion of a boat race, gotten up under the auspices of some of the Governors of the Alms House. The boats are six oared barges used for conveying passengers from the various institutions on the Island to New York. The following were the entries which competed for sweepstakes:

Boat manned by ent. money

Alms House vagrants $5

Work House paupers 5

Penitentiary thieves 5

Lunatic Asylum lunatics 5

––––

Sweepstakes $20

The race was around Blackwell’s Island, a distance of four miles, starting from a stake-boat moored off the Penitentiary wharf. The race was witnessed by the Governors and friends, and a large number of spectators on New York side of the East River. The Work House boat came in victor.

After the race, Governors B. F. Pinckney, P. G. Maloney, and Isaac J. Oliver, with a large number of invited guests, sat down to a jolly good dinner, furnished by order of the Governors, at the Lunatic Asylum. The tables were supplied with every delicacy of the season, with an abundant supply of brandies, wines, champagne, &c. It has been hinted by some malicious persons, that the proceedings at table were worthy of the place where the feast was held.”

These cruel and lazy Governors must have looked funny, sprawled on the velvet banks, with public rum and segars in their bladders and jaws, and obscenity and blasphemy in their filthy mouths, gazing at the unfortunate creatures, (rowing for their lives beneath a burning sun,) whom the public kindly placed under their supervision. What a gang of drones, and thieves, and squanderers, and unblushing scamps! O that Maloney and Pinckney and Oliver could be made to earn, by hard labor, a tithe of the thousands they rifle from the honest and industrious classes.

The Harpers are dead! They have played their last card, and sung their last lay! Their death was horrible and harrowing to their friends. Read their melancholy and most deplorable Obituary, on the first page of their Weekly Journal of July 10, which contains the sprawling likeness of James Gordon Bennett, with a most glorious coat of whitewash over the sweet form of Helen Jewett, and a host of black mail imps and slaughtered victims of his vengeance and cupidity. Read, O read, and behold the price of a puff, and weep over the irrecoverable downfall of the Harpers, including James, the unnaturalized Englishman, who was an American Mayor! O, jokers and thimble riggers! where are you? Appear! appear! appear! and strive to crush your rivals!

All is not sung from pious lung!

Mayor Tiemann is an Episcopalian:

If high or low,

Dam if I know,

Though deeds will show,

As vane the blow.

The Harpers are smooth and quiet Methodists,

And value pence

More than defence

Of sacred Altars,

Or pious paupers.

Gov. Oliver is a rough and noisy Methodist,

And blows wind like a bellows

To many verdant fellows,

While in Pauper contracts,

He seeks Robbers’ barracks.

The Police and Public Robbers.

Now that Captains Leonard and Dowling are reinstated, and as new brooms sweep mighty clean, and as they will probably make more arrests and rip up more rascality than their associates during the next two months, I will direct their attention to the tax books, to ascertain the amount of taxes paid by De Forest and Tisdale before they established the Hunter Woodis Society. Also, what their associates paid. Accredited rumor says that all the members of the Hunter Woodis Society were drones and paupers before they began to collect indigent funds for the Hunter Woodis Society, and before they cunningly devised (in connection with Cooper, Tiemann, Gerard, and others) the Calico Balls at the Academy of Music and Crystal Palace. They now have their carriages, (gold and silver mounted,) and fast horses, and elegant mansions, and have even had the silly boldness to open an Ice Cream and Lager Bier Saloon, on a scale of dazzling splendor and unprecedented area, that would fascinate the Frenchman, and bewilder the German, and will astonish the American. So, just examine the tax books, Leonard and Dowling, and give me the startling statistics, and I will publish them. And I’ll bet largely in advance, that they were paupers until they stole and appropriated the fascinating and noble name of Woodis, to consummate their unhallowed schemes, to rob the Poor of the Metropolis. “That’s all,” as Dr. Wallace too often says at the close of his Junius editorials in the Herald:

O Doctor, Doctor, Doctor!

You are a funny Proctor!

O De Forest and Tisdale,

You’ll soon have worms, and grow pale.

Leonard and Dowling: To your task,

And in my rays, you yet may bask.