No, son... never.
The blood stays on the blade.
One day you'll understand.
Some of it I half remember.
And the rest...
the rest, I took from dreams.
St. Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle.
Be our protector...
against the snares...
and the wickedness of the devil.
Now, son... who's that?
St. Michael.
Who is it?
- St. Michael! - And what did he do?
He cast Satan out of Paradise.
Good boy.
May God put the steel of the Holy Spirit in your spine
and the love of the Blessed Virgin in your heart.
Hey, boyo.
Johnny.
What's the battle?
Natives against the Dead Rabbits.
Which are you?
What do you think? Dead Rabbits.
Aaah!
Aaah! Aaah!
Well, well, Monk...
Are you with us or not?
For the last time, Vallon, I'm with you if the money is right.
I'll give you ten per notch.
Ten?
You have my word.
Ten per notch?
Per new notch.
Then I'm your man.
Is this it, Priest?
The pope's new army?
A few crusty bitches and a handful of ragtags?
Now, Bill, you swore this was a battle between warriors,
not a bunch of Miss Nancys.
So warriors is what I brought.
The O'Connell Guards!
The Plug Uglies!
The Shirt Tails!
The Chichesters!
The Forty Thieves!
Bene.
On my challenge...
by the ancient laws of combat...
we have met at this chosen ground
to settle, for good and all,
who holds sway over the Five Points...
us Natives, born rightwise
to this fine land...
or the foreign hordes defiling it!
Yeah!
By the ancient laws of combat,
I accept the challenge of the so-called Natives.
You plague our people at every turn.
But from this day out, you shall plague us no more.
For let it be known that the hand
that tries to strike us from this land
shall be swiftly cut down!
Yeah!
Then may the Christian Lord guide my hand
against your Roman popery!
Prepare to receive the true Lord!
Yeah!
Aaah!
Aaaaahhhh!
Priest!
Aaaaahhhh!
Look to me!
Who is this under my knife?!
Father, get up! Get up!
Where are you?
Oh, my son...
Don't never look away.
Soon be over, Priest.
Finish it.
Ugh!
You may need this across the river.
Ears and noses will be the trophies of the day.
But no hand shall touch him!
No hand shall touch him!
He'll cross over whole...
in honor.
Not before I get what's owed.
No!
It's fair...
a touch indelicate, but fair.
My sympathies.
What'll we do with the boy?
Look at me.
Give him to the law.
See he gets a good education.
Okay, boy, say goodbye to your father.
- Hey. - Hey!
Get him!
Don't let him get away!
Hurry! Come in here!
Aaah!
- Aaah! - He's going downstairs.
Come here, boy!
You're going to Hellgate, son!
There he is. Let's get him.
Priest Vallon died a noble death.
But his Dead Rabbits is done and outlawed!
Let no one even speak their name from this time on!
In this place,
you have grown from a boy into a man...
put to death the earthly things in you...
immorality, impurity...
passion, vengeance.
The Lord has forgiven you.
You also must forgive.
You go forth to a country torn apart
by civil strife.
Thank you, Reverend.
Lend your hand to the work that yet remains,
that this war may end,
and the plague of slavery
that brought this conflagration down upon us
vanish forever...
from the Earth.
In the second year of the great Civil War,
when the Irish Brigade marched through the streets,
New York was a city full of tribes...
war chiefs...
rich and poor.
Down with Lincoln!
Lincoln will make all white men slaves!
It wasn't a city, really.
It was more a furnace
where a city, someday, might be forged.
That's the spirit, boys.
Go off and die for your blackie friends.
Down with the abolitionists!
We should have run a better man against Lincoln
when we had the chance.
New York should secede from the Union!
He trying to say we're no different than niggers?!
You ain't.
- Good evening, brother. - God save the Union!
There's the Union.
Go back to Africa, niggers!
Go back to Africa!
- Leave him alone! - We're free.
The angriest talk
was of the new Conscription Act...
the first draft in Union history.
No nig noggery here!
None!
Yeah!
"New York Tribune"! Buy your "Tribune" here!
Join the Army, lads!
Three square meals a day and good pay!
When the Irish came,
the city was in a fever.
Since the time of the great famine,
they'd come streaming off the boats.
And they got a right warm welcome.
Go back to Ireland, you dumb Micks!
You remember that, you bog-Irish gyps!
Get back on the boat, Paddy!
I only came two hours
downriver from Hellgate.
But they all took me for an immigrant. Why not?
There were a thousand different accents in New York,
and to the Natives, you see...
it was all the same.
Seven curses of God on you, you bastard!
Tammany's here to take the chill off your soul
and the weight off your heart.
Welcome to America, son.
Your long, arduous journey is over.
Go back to your own country!
Vote Tammany!
America for Americans!
New York loved William Tweed...
and hated him.
And those of us trying to be thieves...
well, we couldn't help but admire him.
Mr. Cutting, gentlemen, thank you for coming.
- It's an honor. - Mr. Tweed.
Sir, please.
Excuse me!
I think you're frightening them.
So?
Don't mind him. He used to be an Irishman.
Ah, the Five Points...
Murderers' Alley...
Brickbat Mansion...
the Gates of Hell.
It was here in this vile place.
Look upon the face of this poor child.
She lives in squalor
in this godforsaken den of vice and misery behind me.
Every year, the reformers came.
Every year, the Points got worse...
as if it liked being dirty.
...degraded men and women.
Where am I going to go?!
Move! The Reverend wants you out of here!
You can't do this!
Come on, you filthy grubworm!
A glorious resurrection
will spring from the filthy depths...
to which these miserable creatures have fallen.
In God, they will find their true home.
You may or may not know, Bill,
that every day, I go down to the waterfront
with hot soup for the Irish as they come ashore.
It's part of building a political base.
I've noticed you there. You may have noticed me.
Indeed I have...
throwing torrents of pavers and withering abuse
on every single person who steps off those boats.
If only I had the guns, I'd shoot every one of them
before they set foot on American soil.
Mulberry Street...
and Worth...
Cross and Orange...
and Little Water.
Each of the Five Points is a finger.
When I close my hand, it becomes a fist.
And anytime that I wish,
I can turn it against you.
I understand, but we're talking about different things.
I'm talking about civic duty...
responsibilities we owe to the people...
schools and hospitals, sewers and utilities,
street construction, repairs, and sweeping,
business licenses, saloon licenses,
carting licenses...
St. Michael, the Archangel...
defend us in battle.
Be our protector against the snares and the wickedness
of the devil.
...streetcars, ferries, rubbish disposal...
There's a power of money to be made in this city, Bill.
With your help...
the people must be made to understand
that all these things are best kept within,
what I like to call, the Tammany family,
which is why I'm talking about an alliance
between our two great organizations.
You're talking about muscle work.
That too.
Muscle to match our spirit!
You own the crushers. Get them to do it.
The police? Oh, no. Jesus, no.
The appearance of the law must be upheld...
especially while it's being broken.
Give me the strength for what I must do.
Who are you?
- Ah! - Hey!
No.
I said, "Who are you?" What are you doing here?
I just like it down here, is all.
See what's in his pockets, Jimmy.
Now, look, boys, I really don't want a fight.
Don't want a fight?
Don't worry, son, ain't gonna be much a fight.
Don't kill me.
Where'd you get that?
I told you I didn't want to fight!
Why not?
Look how good you done.
You're the Priest's son, aren't you?
You, get away from me, understand?!
You don't remember me, do you?
I's the one tried to help you.
What?
I's the one tried to help you...
when the Natives took you.
Oh, that was you?
Yeah.
I thought you was killed.
They just locked me up, you know that?
This long?
But I kept trying to escape, you know.
They add on time for that.
So what are you doing back here?
I guess I missed the place.
Bowery Boys.
That's enough now.
Hey! Get back here!
The Five Points...
Paradise Square...
the streets here are always lively of an evening.
Who are the gangs around now?
You got the Daybreak Boys and the Swamp Angels.
They work the river, looting ships.
The Frog Hollows Shanghai Sailors
down around the Bloody Angle.
Shirt Tails was rough for a while,
but they've become a bunch of jackrolling dandies,
lolling around Murderers' Alley, looking like Chinamen.
Hell-Cat Maggie... she tried to open her own grog shop,
but she drunk up all her own liquor
and got throwed out on the street.
Beautiful.
Now she's on the lay for anything.
There's the Plug Uglies.
They're from somewhere deep in the old country.
Got their own language.
No one understands what they're saying.
They love to fight the cops.
And the Night Walkers of Ragpickers' Row...
they work on their backs and kill with their hands.
They're so scurvy, only the Plug Uglies will talk to them.
But who knows what they're saying?
The Slaughter Housers and the Broadway Twisters...
they're a fine bunch of bingo-boys.
And the little Forty Thieves...
I used to run with them for a while
till they got took over by Bendrick the Cockroach
and his Red-Eyed Buggers.
Bendrick carries a germ.
If you try to leave the gang, he hacks up blood on you.
The lime-juicers
are nothing but a bunch of rapacious grab-ups.
The True Blue Americans call themselves a gang,
but all they do is stand around on corners damning England.
If you believe one word that the British say,
you're a fool.
Do any of them got the sand of the Dead Rabbits?
You don't say that name.
That name died with your...
They've been outlawed.
When I was in the blockhouse, the Chinks told me
that the Natives celebrate their victory every year.
Is that true?
Aye, that they do.
It's quite the affair.
The Butcher himself's got to invite you, or you don't go.
Oh! Aah!
Look where you're going, Johnny.
You look stunned and poorly, sir.
Quite a pair of conversationists, aren't you?
Maybe not...
but we're deep thinkers.
Well...
Gentlemen, I leave you in the grace and favor of the Lord.
Jenny... the finest bludget in all the Points.
She is a prim-looking stargazer.
Hmm.
But I'd check my pockets if I was you...
'cause I do believe she lifted your timepiece.
Whoo!
Well, I let her take it.
I let her take things all the time.
Is that right?
We always liked a good fire in the Points.
Fire!
You could generally pick up a little swag,
and if the cops came along, then you really got a show.
Vote Tammany!
The Municipal Police
fought the Metropolitan Police.
The Metropolitan Police... they fought the street gangs.
Hurry up, men, before the Black Joke get there!
There were 37 amateur fire brigades,
and they all fought each other.
The Black Joke are on their way, Tweed!
And they'll beat the shite out of you.
Okay, boys!
Get the hose out!
It's the Black Joke!
Go get them, boys!
Give those Bowery Boys hell!
Quick, before there's nothing left.
Go back to the Bowery, you bums!
Stop them! For God's sake, they're taking everything!
In your next time of trouble, ma'am, call on Tammany first.
But it's not too late! You can still save my house!
Whoo!
Let's go.
I thought you said you was hungry!
Grab what you can! Let's get out of here!
May I point out that this building is burning to ashes?
And may I point out that this area
is the province of my own Americus Fire Brigade
and that you lot belong only in the Bowery?
May I point out that you're outmanned, outmaneuvered...
...and, in a moment, outfought.
Am I?
There's the Black Joke! Let's take them on the cobbles!
Go spill some claret, boys!
Go on, Shorty, have a nice muss!
Clear the way for Bill the Butcher.
Okay, boys, to work!
What's the point?
The fire's near burned anything of value inside.
Boys, forget that one! Next building over!
Mustn't let it spread!
Take what you want from that one!
What are you doing? What are you doing?
There's nothing wrong with this one. This is my house!
Aah!
- Johnny! - Help!
Johnny!
Help!
Aah.
Help!
Come on! Come on, Johnny! Get up!
Leave that!
You two, out of the way!
His name's Amsterdam.
How's the beak?
Ain't so bad.
You, you got anything, you give it up,
or you get out.
Is that it?
That's it.
Right, here's the rake... everything comes here.
We fence it.
Johnny takes our tribute to the Natives,
and we chop up the winnings...
each to his equal portion amongst the gang.
Does that meet with your approval, Hellgate?
My approval?
What's the matter, Jack Sprat... can't you think for yourself?
I'll slit your fucking throat!
Hey, come on!
You boys will settle with me before settling with each other.
I come for my due and proper.
Oh...
Well, this ain't a bad haul.
You know when folks start in to saying
to where the country's going to hell?
I always tell them...
"You just look at all the hard work
our fine young lads is doing down in the Five Points."
Oh, yeah...
Now, this is just the thing for Mrs. Mulraney.
All right, there, Happy Jack,
leave us with something to quarter to Bill the Butcher, eh?
Would you?
Not my favorite tune.
Thank you, boys.
You keep out of trouble, now.
Every year, the Natives celebrated
the killing of my father all over again...
...at Sparrow's Chinese Pagoda in Mott Street.
The Chinks hated the Natives worse than we did.
The drum rolls, and the Butcher drinks a glass of fire.
When you kill a king...
you don't stab him in the dark.
You kill him where the whole court can watch him die.
Hey, got any timber?
Hey, Maggie. Right ear or left ear?
Ah, give us a drink, you eejit.
Help yourself.
To health.
Two minutes! Place your bets!
Gentlemen!
The match is due to commence.
The count to beat is 25 rodents in 3 minutes.
Towser against the vermin!
Are the enumerators satisfied?!
- 50! - Yes!
Let them go!
Where are you going, boyo?
I'm here to pay tribute to Bill.
Are you, now? Give it to me. I'll give it to him.
No, thanks, I'll give it to him myself.
Come on.
What do you want to keep, the money or your teeth, boyo?
John...
Welcome.
For me and me lads, sir.
Mate of yours... where's he from?
Oh, he's not from here, sir.
You!
That's close enough.
Your friend can't look me in the eye.
That's not an admirable characteristic.
No one can look you in the eye, Bill...
not when you're playing cards.
This is whist. This is a gentleman's game.
Make a gentleman's bet.
I'm betting large, Bill.
That ain't large.
Aaaah!
Shh... please, don't make that noise again, Harvey.
I like a man who's willing to burn for his swag.
Aah!
How do you fare on water?
Come closer.
Close, John, I ain't gonna bite. Close.
There's a "Portageezy" ship lying low in the harbor...
quarantined three weeks.
Get there before the Daybreak Boys strip her,
maybe you and me will talk some more.
- Consider it done, sir. - Good boy.
And, you, whatever your name is... what is your name?
Amsterdam, sir.
Amsterdam.
I'm New York.
Don't you never come in here empty-handed again.
You gotta pay for the pleasure of my company.
Take him for a boat ride, John.
Who knows, but he might save your life again.
Daybreak Boys catch us on this river,
they'll slit our throats.
I'll do it myself if you don't keep quiet.
I never liked the harbor after dark.
And now each night,
they brung ashore the bodies of the soldiers.
So many mothers have not even the solace
of knowing where their sons have fallen.
I lost my own eldest at Antietam,
and his mother and I were unable to recover his remains.
It was a mournful sight...
The war can't last forever.
...but we had business of our own.
Ooh!
The Daybreak Boys have already been here.
And there's nothing left. Let's go back, eh?
What in the hell...
Jimmy, get down!
Jesus! That'll bring the harbor cops for sure!
Look out!
Let's take a look.
Jesus, they killed everybody.
There's nothing here but a bunch of dead sea-crabs.
Come on, let's go.
Shove off!
No, wait for Amsterdam!
Where's Amsterdam?
- Aah! - Aah!
No, you damn fool, take him!
What in the hell for?!
Look at my glims... I said no less than $15.
Is this fresh?
Four hours, most.
Much obliged, gents.
What's that word?
Uh... it means body snatchers.
I didn't ask the meaning. I asked the word.
Ghoul.
Ghoul?
That's a good word.
"Ghoul Gang Slaughters.
A fresh out... outrage in the Five Points."
That's a notice you can be proud of.
Thank you.
Low thing... to do that to a body. Low.
Why? They could have left that ship with nothing.
Instead, they made the "Police Gazette,"
a periodical of note.
A body's supposed to stay beneath the Earth...
wearing a wooden coat until the resurrection.
These two are just a pair
of bug-eating sons of Irish bitches same as you are.
Don't seem to bother them none.
But then maybe they don't share your religious scruples.
Maybe they're just a couple of Fidlam Bens.
I've been called a lot of things, mister,
but I ain't never been called a...
Fidlam Bens.
Fidlam Bens, right.
Well... if I knew what in the hell that meant,
might be inclined to take offense.
Fidlam Bens is a fellow steals anything, dead or alive,
'cause he's too low to work up a decent lay for himself.
Count that careful, Butcher. Count that careful.
I'm telling you... that's all they give us.
Now, chiseler... if you had said chiseler...
now, there's a word I understand, you know?
Now, is that what you're calling us?
Oh, I could think of a number of things to call you, boyo.
Right, but I asked if you was calling us chiselers.
Supposing I am?
Well, then, we got business.
That we do.
Two bucks on McGloin!
Four bits on the kid!
Five bits on the kid!
I got five on Amsterdam!
Come on, McGloin, he's just a kid!
Four bits to back Amsterdam!
One!
Watch his left, McGloin. Watch his left.
Aaah!
Aah! Aah!
Aah! Aaaaah!
All right, that'll do. That'll do.
Have you got anything to say now?! Huh?!
That'll do, for Christ's sake. Drag him off.
That's enough, kid.
You got him.
Come on, kid. You won. Don't make a fool of yourself.
You can't do it anymore.
You're getting too old for it, McGloin.
McGloin, how would that head look
without the ears and the nose on it?
You had better leave that head alone, Bill.
I think I'm gonna trim the ears and the beak
off of that head.
Make a nice pot of soup of that head.
We could find a tastier head than that, Bill.
I ain't got the stomach for no Irish stew.
The mighty McGloin... almost fishhooked by a sprat.
On the seventh day, the Lord rested.
But before that he did,
he squatted over the side of England,
and what came out of him...
was Ireland.
No offense, son.
None taken, sir. I grew up here.
All I ever knew of Ireland
was in the talk of the others at the orphan asylum.
And which part of that excrementitious isle
were your forebears spawned?
I've been told Kerry,
but I lost proof of it in my language at the asylum.
I was raised in a very similar establishment myself.
Now everything you see belongs to me, to one degree or another.
The beggars and newsboys and quick thieves here in Paradise,
the sailor dives and gin mills
and blind tigers on the waterfront,
the anglers and amusers, the she-hes and the Chinks...
everybody owes, everybody pays,
because that's how you stand up
against the rising of the tide.
Is that right, boys?
Yeah, Bill, that's right.
Enlist! Join up! Serve your country!
Come on in out of the draft, boys!
Volunteer and get your $50 bonus!
We need 30,000 volunteers,
and we're prepared to pay $677 per volunteer.
Please read this. Thank you.
Would you like to take one of these, please, to fill out?
Three square meals a day.
Young man, enlist and serve your country.
Three square meals a day, gentlemen.
If you're interested,
I suggest you read this and consider joining up.
Everywhere you went,
people talked about the draft.
Now, you could buy your way out for $300,
but who had $300?
For us, it might as well have been $3 millions.
The recruiters...
they was too scared of the gangs to come after us.
Besides, we never dreamt the war would ever touch New York.
Good morning, sir.
You!
Don't you run into me.
Fair enough.
Oh! Oh!
I said, "Don't run into me."
Well, sorry.
Everything in place?
It seems so.
Well, then, I leave you in the grace and favor of the Lord.
- That's right. - Thank you.
Oh, the dirty mab!
- Oh, no. - Ah.
- I'm sorry. - Ah, allow me.
Thank you kindly, sir.
Oh, it's my pleasure.
I hope you won't think me rude if I speak.
I wouldn't want to appear forward.
Well, sir, that depends on what you say.
Ahh...
Would you call me reckless
if I said you were the prettiest girl in New York?
Only New York?
This is my stop.
Ho!
Ah! May I walk with you a little, then?
That, sir, would be too bold.
Ho!
For every lay, we had a different name.
An angler put a hook on the end of a stick
to drop behind store windows and doors.
An autumn diver picked your pocket in church.
A badger gets a fellow into bed with a girl,
then robs his pockets while they're on the go.
Jenny was a bludget... a girl pickpocket...
and... a turtledove.
A turtledove goes uptown dressed like a housemaid,
picks out a fine house,
and goes right through the back door...
robs you blind.
It takes a lot of sand to be a turtledove.
I'll have my medal back.
Oh, Jesus!
Unh!
Don't do that again.
Aah! Listen, I said don't do that...
Go back to the Points and leave me to my business,
or I will open your throat, so help me God.
All right.
Go on, then.
I would.
Go on, then.
Now... give me back my medal.
Make it quick!
I don't know which one's yours.
Suppose I help myself to everything?
Huh?
Suppose you do.
May I walk with you a little, then?
What do you suppose a fellow could earn up here in a day?
Maybe we could pal in together.
Oh, I think you're a bit rough for this sort of game.
Besides, I work alone.
Alone?
Well, what do you quarter to the Butcher?
Me... nothing.
Nothing?!
The Butcher and me have a special arrangement.
I don't want to see you again.
Well, I don't blame you.
Pennies in their pockets and hope in their eyes,
they peer to the west,
searching the horizon for a glimpse of land and salvation...
Ah... a glimpse of America.
Seeing all this poverty
must be most unsettling, Miss Schermerhorn.
Some days, of course,
the uptown gangs come down to us.
The Schermerhorns was one of the oldest families
in New York.
They didn't run the city,
but they was listened to quite carefully by them that did.
Commissioner Brunt said you wished to view the Points
in all its splendor and squalor.
"Spare nothing concerning the conditions," said he.
Yeah, nothing except our safety, Constable.
I'm sure we can be in no danger
while we're in the constable's company, my dear.
Quite so, madam. Witness.
Shall we continue on?
What, you dare to leave it there?
Safe as a bank, Mr. Greeley, since all know it's mine.
Is that man drunk?
Oh, dead as Good Friday, miss.
Good day to you, Mulraney.
- Boys. - Jack.
Slum sociable?
Fact-finding, reforms-studying.
May I present Mr. and...
The Schermerhorns of 5th Avenue
scarcely require an introduction from you, Jack.
Schermerhorn, indeed, and their daughter.
This gentleman, of course, is...
Mr. Horace Greeley, the famous publisher.
A pleasure and an honor, sir.
...of the "Tribune."
I'm William Cutting.
How do you do, Mr. Cutting?
As of this moment, extremely well, thank you.
How do you do?
Mmm, orange blossom... delicious.
Mr. Cutting is, uh...
What a peach. She could have a fine career on the stage.
...one of Five Points' local...
Pleasure to meet you, sir.
...leaders. - Mr. Greeley...
Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cutting.
Five Points welcomes you.
You are welcome to these streets and will pass in safety.
Oh, I'll see to their safety.
Thank you, Bill.
Here we are.
Good day, lads.
Criminal's braggadocio, you see.
- He knows who I am. - Oh, indeed, sir.
You're well-known in these parts.
I must say that I find that strangely flattering.
I never did like crushers.
Well, draw it mild, son... Happy Jack don't fill his lungs
without I tell him he may do so.
You think my watch would be safe up on that lamppost, Bill?
Why don't you hang it up there and see?
Someday.
Someday is right.
This a new lad?
Just another bastard son of Erin
I folded in the warmth of my embrace.
Hey!
Just want to see your face, son.
No harm intended.
You get to know a lot butchering meat.
We're made up of the same things...
flesh and blood, tissue, organs.
I love to work with pigs.
The nearest thing in nature to the flesh of a man
is the flesh of a pig.
Pig, huh?
That's right.
This is for you, Mother.
Here you go.
- God bless you, Mr. Cutting. - God bless you.
She ain't really my mother.
I knew that, Bill.
This is the liver...
the kidneys...
the heart.
This is a wound.
The stomach will bleed and bleed.
This is a kill.
Main artery...
this is a kill.
You try.
Go ahead.
The lung. Good.
Don't foul the blade on the rib.
Very good... main artery.
Bleed him slow.
Let him think about it for a while... slow death.
Good.
You will each bill the city $5,000 a month
for supplies and services, of which you'll receive 10%
Bill!
Mr. Killoran will work out the details. Thank you, gentlemen!
That's how we do things around Tammany, gentlemen.
Who's this, then?
Thank you, boys.
Good day, sir.
You got something on your mind?
Bill's taken quite a liking to you.
Now, if you're up to something...
bene.
Only I don't want no part in it.
I was in Hellgate for 16 years.
I'm just trying to make my way, is all...
just like you.
Unless, of course, you got a better notion.
No.
Bill, I can't get a day's work done
for all the good citizens coming in here
to harass me about crime in the Points.
Some even go so far as to accuse Tammany of connivance
in this so-called rampant criminality.
What am I to do?
I can't have this. Something has to be done.
What do you have in mind?
I don't know.
I think maybe we should hang someone.
Who?
No one important, necessarily. Average men will do...
back-alley amusers with no affiliations.
How many?
Three or four.
Which?
Four.
You stand here convicted varyingly
of lewdness, jackrolling, sneak-thievery,
chloral-hydrating, sodomy, strangulation,
and enthusiastic corruption of the public good.
We all go someday.
Chin up.
Handsome bunch of gallows fruit.
There's my old friend. How are you feeling, Arthur?
I'm okay, I'm okay, you know?
Oh, say hello to Amsterdam.
Nearly fishhooked McGloin the other day.
- Nearly. - How do you do?
I see you dressed for the occasion, Arthur.
You know me, Bill... always like to look me best.
That's the spirit.
That's a nice locket. I'll give you a dollar for it.
It's me mother's.
Dollar and a half?
Done.
We'll miss you, Arthur.
See you in the hot country, Seamus.
Hot corn! Ears of early white corn!
Hot corn! Hot corn!
Is my son present here?
Where's my little fella?
Look at your da.
Farewell, dear boy.
I never struck a foul blow, nor turned a card!
May God greet me as a friend!
That night, the reformers held a dance.
That was the Five Points, all right...
hangings of a morning, dancings of an evening.
Ow!
...sure meself, but it's not a matter of words.
I can tell by the way she smiles at me.
Well, she smiles at a lot of people, Johnny.
- Sir... - You don't know her.
A penny of gratitude for a fighting Irishman, young sir.
You're from Kerry?
I am, sir. I am.
Look, it ain't much.
Thank you, sir. Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we are delighted to see so many young faces
in our first annual Mission dance.
This'll be a real ballum rancum, eh?
The Mission welcomes Christians of every stamp,
and we are particularly happy
to greet our Roman-Catholic friends
who join us here tonight.
Ladies, come with me. Come with me.
Sit with us.
We're going to start the dancing in just a moment.
Good evening, Reverend.
Good evening, Your Holiness.
Good evening, Reverend.
Looks as though you should have shaved closer.
Oh.
Good evening, Reverend.
I do beg your pardon.
Miss?
Uh...
Everdeane.
Miss Everdeane.
Now, gentlemen, over here, if you don't mind.
Thank you.
Open it.
Hold it up.
Into the mirror.
Hmm...
Mmm...
All right.
That one.
Our queen has chosen.
Sir...
your lady.
Right.
Regular services are held at the church at 6:00 and 8:00.
Go to hell.
What do you think you're doing?
I'm dancing.
I said why'd you pick me?
That's none of your business.
Would you mind telling me?
Ohh!
I'm sorry.
God damn it.
- Ow! - Sorry.
I'm not much of a dancer.
Just try to keep calm.
I've never been to a stepping-ken before.
It's best not to look down.
You can hold me tighter if you like.
All right.
So, why didn't you dance with Johnny?
Because...
...I didn't want him.
I'm not wanting this.
Mmm...
Wait.
What?
Wait.
How does this open?
It takes too long to lace back up.
We'll be here all night.
Sure, all right. I'll take it off.
There was a baby. They cut it out.
I'm sorry.
No, it's fine.
Have you got any scars?
One or two.
What's that, then?
That... is a gift from Mr. Cutting.
A gift?
A gift.
Was it your birthday?
No.
What'd you give him, then?
The answer to that has nothing to do with you.
Don't tell me you're angry with me.
No.
I'm through with you.
Well... you're quicker than most fellows.
Generally, they wait till afterwards.
Well, I ain't interested in the Butcher's leavings.
Hey! Bill says keep clear of the pikers.
15 to 1, Bug-Eye Moran.
Amsterdam!
Everyone was working for the Butcher.
We ran his errands, made his money,
took a piece and said, "Thank you, sir."
Gentlemen, it's a raid.
Even Tweed.
The fight's over!
Even me...
...my father's son.
- What the hell is this? - Sorry, Bill.
The city ordinance against boxiana's a blight, I grant...
I'm losing revenue while you speechify.
Get out there and collect those bets!
Sir, how do I collect if no one won the fight?
This counts as a no-decision. You got that covered, right?
Didn't anybody pay off the goddamn police?
We paid the Municipal Police. This is the Metropolitan Police.
You are gonna repay me every cent.
- Mister Tweed... - Who asked for your opinion?!
Let him speak! He don't answer to you!
The law says that there's no boxing in the city.
That's right... in the city.
Well, where's the city end?
The winner in the 75th round...
Allow me to acknowledge the man
whose vision and enterprise made possible
the staging of this noble combat
in these awe-inspiring and entirely legal surroundings,
Mr. William Cutting!
And...
and his young associate!
Good. You done very good.
Well, we done good. We done all right.
And while I have your kind attention...
It was a good show.
...may I remind you of the further wonders
that await you at my museum, located on Broadway...
P.T. Barnum's Gallery of Wonders!
- Watch who you're shoving! - Keep your hands to yourself!
That's my money!
Get your hands out of me pocket!
Stop it! Stop it!
It's a funny feeling
being took under the wing of a dragon.
It's warmer than you think.
That's the building of our country
right there, Mr. Cutting... Americans aborning.
I don't see no Americans.
I see trespassers... Irish harps.
Do a job for a nickel what a nigger does for a dime
and a white man used to get a quarter for.
What have they done? Name one thing they've contributed.
Votes.
Votes, you say?
They vote how the archbishop tells them,
and who tells the archbishop?
Their king in the pointy hat what sits on his throne in Rome.
Bill's got mixed feelings as regards the Irish.
Bill... deliver these good and fervent folk
to the polls on a regular basis,
and there'll be a handsome price
for each vote that goes Tammany's way.
My father gave his life
making this country what it is...
murdered by the British with all of his men
on the 25th of July, anno Domini 1814.