As the 1890s turned towards 1900, the dawn of the new century, residents of what we think of as today's Greenwich Village would have known pretty well one of their local politicians and businessmen, and thought of him as a perhaps colorful, politically passionate, maybe a bit rough around the edges at times, but certainly a good-hearted member of the 13th

senatorial district. A fixture of the neighborhood, you could say. He bought his newspapers

from the same woman on the corner every day, and local booksellers knew that he was a devoted

and a serious reader. His fairly short stature, thick hair, crushed often under a nearly ever-present hat, and his trademark baggy wool coat made him easily recognizable to his colleagues and his constituents as they spotted him walking toward them far down the street.

His name was Murray Hall.

And he was always ready to shake the hands of neighbors, fellow business owners, and local workers to get their support for Tammany Hall,

one of the most famous and infamous political engines of 19th century New York history,

whose purpose it was touted was to help the working man.

Open, and it seems gregarious, Murray Hall's life

held a secret, so deeply and quietly personal that it seems that he never shared it with his

closest confidants, and even, it seems, his adopted daughter. 120 years after his death in

2001, it's time to not only share his secret, but that in truth

is only part of the tale.

It is now time to tell his story.

Music Hello, I'm Carl Raymond, host of the Gilded Gentleman History podcast, and as I do, every two weeks, I'm joining you for a look

into all the corners light and dark of America's Gilded Age, Francis Bellepuck, and the

world of late Victorian and Edwardian London. I discovered this story and began my journey into

the life of Murray Hall when I was actually

looking for someone else.

I was trying to find Barbara Streisand.

Sort of.

Several years ago, I was creating a new tour for Bowery Boys' walks called Artists,

...