February 25, 1855—William Poole, better known as “Bill the Butcher” of the Bowery Boys Gang, was shot at the Stanwix Hotel in New York by gunmen doing the bidding of Tammany Hall tough John Morrissey. The Butcher, who died two weeks later, was buried in an unmarked grave in Green-Wood Cemetery.
Poole became adept in using knives by working in his father’s butcher shop, then by opening his own. His muscular frame made him a natural “shoulder-hitter,” or enforcer, for the virulently nativist True American or Know-Nothing Order of the Star-Spangled Banner (the Know-Nothings earned their nickname because their oath of secrecy enjoined them to answer, when questioned about the group, “I know nothing”). It was in this latter capacity that he made the fateful acquaintance of Morrissey.
Some months back, Morrissey—who made his name among the immigrant Irish in challenging the True Americans’ control of the streets and the polls by smashing up their meeting halls—had gone into the American Club on Water Street and challenged heavyweight champ Tom Hyer and Bill the Butcher. Morrissey was cut up so badly that The Butcher decided that he could live as an example of what could happen to the unwary.
On the night he died, Poole was in the Stanwix when Morrissey came in, pulled the trigger on his gun, and fired three times—with no result. (That type of thing happened surprisingly often in those days.) Poole was ready to use his knife on the Tammany tough when Morrissey was hustled out of the hotel in the nick of time. Some time later, Morrissey’s henchmen came back and gunned The Butcher down.
In 2003, a granite headstone was placed on Poole’s grave bearing his last words: “Goodbye, boys: I die a true American.” The fact that this anti-Irish, anti-Catholic hood was posthumously remembered in this fashion might derive from his recent curious cinematic fame, as “Bill the Butcher” Cutting, in Martin Scorsese’s 2002 film, Gangs of New York.
As in There Will Be Blood, Daniel Day-Lewis allows his Snidely Whiplash moustache to perform half his acting job in this role. (That's the actor in costume in the photo accompanying this blog entry.) Moreover, Scorsese took dramatic license with the real-life facts by placing The Butcher’s death closer to the New York City draft riots of 1863.
The director rather freely adapted the Herbert Asbury history of the 19th-century New York underworld. Scorsese leaves his own very individual thumbprint on every one of his films (notably through his fascination with crime, betrayal, and the costs of living within a group's codes), so even his worst work is not without interest.
But aside from that ridiculous handlebar moustache of Day-Lewis', how much do you recall about the film? One great scene where the Irish gang led by Liam Neeson comes in from all sides to form a great mass to face off against the nativists; that curly wig of Cameron Diaz’s; and anything else? I didn’t think so.
Instead of concocting a ramshackle plot with events that nobody can remember, Scorsese would have been better off adapting a novel that covered the same time period and milieu (and even includes the Poole killing as a background incident)—Peter Quinn’s Banished Children of Eve—which has the advantage of an actual plot and characters an audience could really care about.
Poole became adept in using knives by working in his father’s butcher shop, then by opening his own. His muscular frame made him a natural “shoulder-hitter,” or enforcer, for the virulently nativist True American or Know-Nothing Order of the Star-Spangled Banner (the Know-Nothings earned their nickname because their oath of secrecy enjoined them to answer, when questioned about the group, “I know nothing”). It was in this latter capacity that he made the fateful acquaintance of Morrissey.
Some months back, Morrissey—who made his name among the immigrant Irish in challenging the True Americans’ control of the streets and the polls by smashing up their meeting halls—had gone into the American Club on Water Street and challenged heavyweight champ Tom Hyer and Bill the Butcher. Morrissey was cut up so badly that The Butcher decided that he could live as an example of what could happen to the unwary.
On the night he died, Poole was in the Stanwix when Morrissey came in, pulled the trigger on his gun, and fired three times—with no result. (That type of thing happened surprisingly often in those days.) Poole was ready to use his knife on the Tammany tough when Morrissey was hustled out of the hotel in the nick of time. Some time later, Morrissey’s henchmen came back and gunned The Butcher down.
In 2003, a granite headstone was placed on Poole’s grave bearing his last words: “Goodbye, boys: I die a true American.” The fact that this anti-Irish, anti-Catholic hood was posthumously remembered in this fashion might derive from his recent curious cinematic fame, as “Bill the Butcher” Cutting, in Martin Scorsese’s 2002 film, Gangs of New York.
As in There Will Be Blood, Daniel Day-Lewis allows his Snidely Whiplash moustache to perform half his acting job in this role. (That's the actor in costume in the photo accompanying this blog entry.) Moreover, Scorsese took dramatic license with the real-life facts by placing The Butcher’s death closer to the New York City draft riots of 1863.
The director rather freely adapted the Herbert Asbury history of the 19th-century New York underworld. Scorsese leaves his own very individual thumbprint on every one of his films (notably through his fascination with crime, betrayal, and the costs of living within a group's codes), so even his worst work is not without interest.
But aside from that ridiculous handlebar moustache of Day-Lewis', how much do you recall about the film? One great scene where the Irish gang led by Liam Neeson comes in from all sides to form a great mass to face off against the nativists; that curly wig of Cameron Diaz’s; and anything else? I didn’t think so.
Instead of concocting a ramshackle plot with events that nobody can remember, Scorsese would have been better off adapting a novel that covered the same time period and milieu (and even includes the Poole killing as a background incident)—Peter Quinn’s Banished Children of Eve—which has the advantage of an actual plot and characters an audience could really care about.
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