Life, 1883-07-12 · page 10 of 16
Life — July 12, 1883 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis This satirical poem lampoons the **Mayor of New York's** powerlessness despite his office. The cartoon depicts a bearded man (the mayor) holding a guitar, illustrating his impotence: he's reduced to singing complaints rather than governing. The satire's target is the **Board of Aldermen**, who hold actual power over the mayor's decisions—from personal activities (going to church, buying seltzer) to major municipal reforms (elevated train fares, street cleaning, Brooklyn infrastructure). The recurring refrain "I have to get permission / Of the Board of Aldermen" underscores his frustration. The joke critiques **municipal government structure**: despite being elected mayor, he's subordinate to an appointed board, making his position ceremonial rather than executive. His grand ambitions for reform—moral regeneration of the population, modernizing transit—are blocked by bureaucratic obstruction. This reflects real tensions in **Gilded Age New York politics**, where aldermen often controlled city resources and resisted reform efforts, leaving mayors as figureheads. The satire exposes how formal authority doesn't guarantee actual power to implement change.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
SONG OF THE MAYOR OF NEW YORK. WHEN I entered on my mission As a city politician, Then I studied the condition Of the voters in the town; I discovered that to flatter Wasn't half so great a matter As to make their pockets flatter With a little money down. And of course I then expected ‘That when I had been elected, I should find myself respected By the mighty upper ten ; You may judge of my condition When I learned that my volition Would be subject to permission From the Board of Aldermen! Every day the wise and witty Came and sang to me a ditty . How I ruled a mighty city With my own unaided hand ; And they told me every hour ‘That I bubbled o’er with power, And that guilty men would cower At my dignity so grand. -LIFE: Then my daily cogitation Was the quick regeneration Of a wicked population So they'd never sin again ; But my plan went to perdition When I sought for its fruition, For I couldn't get permission Of the Board of Aldermen. If I want to go to Funday, Or to take a walk on Monday, Or to go to church on Sunday, Or indulge in oyster stew,— If I want a secretary Who has not a pet vagary, And who isn’t over chary Of the work he ought to do,— If I feel a little heady, And my nerves are none too steady, And I need a little ready Cash to buy some seltzer then,— In every single, sad condition, What's the use of my position, When I have to get permission Of the Board of Aldermen? If I'm strongly actuated To remove the antiquated Custom of the elevated, And reduce the ten-cent fare,— If to industry I’m leaning, And announce my settled meaning All the streets to give a cleaning, And to put them in repair,— If it is my good intention To look into the suspension That to Brooklyn brings dissension, Which you read of now and then, My designs have no fruition, For it dampens my ambition When I have to get permission Of the Board of Aldermen. W. J. HENDERSON.