merely at the approach of election day; on the contrary, they exist
throughout the year, and for the greater part of the time are to a
great extent merely social clubs. To a large number of the men who
belong to them they are the chief social rallying-point. These men
congregate in the association building in the evening to smoke,
drink beer, and play cards, precisely as the wealthier men gather in
the clubs whose purpose is avowedly social and not political--such
as the Union, University, and Knickerbocker. Politics thus becomes a
pleasure and relaxation as well as a serious pursuit. The different
members of the same club or association become closely allied with one
another, and able to act together on occasions with unison and _esprit
de corps_; and they will stand by one of their own number for reasons
precisely homologous to those which make a member of one of the upper
clubs support a fellow-member if the latter happens to run for office.
“He is a gentleman, and shall have my vote,” says the swell club man.
“He’s one of the boys, and I’m for him,” replies the heeler from the
district party association. In each case the feeling is social rather
than political, but where the club man influences one vote the heeler
controls ten. A rich merchant and a small tradesman alike find it
merely a bore to attend the meetings of the local political club; it
is to them an irksome duty which is shirked whenever possible. But
to the small politicians and to the various workers and hangers-on,
these meetings have a distinct social attraction, and the attendance
is a matter of preference. They are in congenial society and in the
place where by choice they spend their evenings, and where they bring
their friends and associates; and naturally all the men so brought
together gradually blend their social and political ties, and work
with an effectiveness impossible to the outside citizens whose social
instincts interfere, instead of coinciding with their political duties.
If an ordinary citizen wishes to have a game of cards or a talk with
some of his companions, he must keep away from the local headquarters
of his party; whereas, under similar circumstances, the professional
politician must go there. The man who is fond of his home naturally
prefers to stay there in the evenings, rather than go out among the
noisy club frequenters, whose pleasure it is to see each other at
least weekly, and who spend their evenings discussing neither sport,
business, nor scandal, as do other sections of the community, but the
equally monotonous subject of ward politics.
The strength of our political organizations arises from their
development as social bodies; many of the hardest workers in their
ranks are neither office-holders nor yet paid henchmen, but merely
members who have gradually learned to identify their fortunes with
the party whose hall they have come to regard as the head-quarters in
which to spend the most agreeable of their leisure moments. Under the
American system it is impossible for a man to accomplish anything by
himself; he must associate himself with others, and they must throw
their weight together. This is just what the social functions of the
political clubs enable their members to do. The great and rich society
clubs are composed of men who are not apt to take much interest in
politics anyhow, and never act as a body. The great effect produced by
a social organization for political purposes is shown by the career
of the Union League Club; and equally striking proof can be seen by
every man who attends a ward meeting. There is thus, however much to
be regretted it may be, a constant tendency towards the concentration
of political power in the hands of those men who by taste and
education are fitted to enjoy the social side of the various political
organizations.
THE LIQUOR-SELLER IN POLITICS.
It is this that gives the liquor-sellers their enormous influence in
politics. Preparatory to the general election of 1884, there were held
in the various districts of New York ten hundred and seven primaries
and political conventions of all parties, and of these no less than
six hundred and thirty-three took place in liquor-saloons,--a showing
that leaves small ground for wonder at the low average grade of the
nominees. The reason for such a condition of things is perfectly
evident: it is because the liquor-saloons are places of social resort
for the same men who turn the local political organizations into social
clubs. Bar-tenders form perhaps the nearest approach to a leisure class
that we have at present on this side of the water. Naturally they are
on semi-intimate terms with all who frequent their houses. There is no
place where more gossip is talked than in bar-rooms, and much of this
gossip is about politics,--that is, the politics of the ward, not of
the nation. The tariff and the silver question may be alluded to and
civil-service reform may be incidentally damned, but the real interest
comes in discussing the doings of the men with whom they are personally
acquainted: why Billy so-and-so, the alderman, has quarrelled with his
former chief supporter; whether “old man X” has really managed to fix
the delegates to a given convention; the reason why one faction bolted
at the last primary; and if it is true that a great down-town boss
who has an intimate friend of opposite political faith running in an
up-town district has forced the managers of his own party to put up a
man of straw against him. The bar-keeper is a man of much local power,
and is, of course, hail-fellow-well-met with his visitors, as he and
they can be of mutual assistance to one another. Even if of different
politics, their feelings towards each other are influenced purely by
personal considerations; and, indeed, this is true of most of the
smaller bosses as regards their dealings among themselves, for, as one
of them once remarked to me with enigmatic truthfulness, “there are
no politics in politics” of the lower sort--which, being interpreted,
means that a professional politician is much less apt to be swayed by
the fact of a man’s being a Democrat or a Republican than he is by his
being a personal friend or foe. The liquor-saloons thus become the
social head-quarters of the little knots or cliques of men who take
most interest in local political affairs; and by an easy transition
they become the political head-quarters when the time for preparing
for the elections arrives; and, of course, the good-will of the owners
of the places is thereby propitiated,--an important point with men
striving to control every vote possible.
The local political clubs also become to a certain extent mutual
benefit associations. The men in them become pretty intimate with one
another; and in the event of one becoming ill, or from any other cause
thrown out of employment, his fellow-members will very often combine to
assist him through his troubles, and quite large sums are frequently
raised for such a purpose. Of course, this forms an additional bond
among the members, who become closely knit together by ties of
companionship, self-interest, and mutual interdependence. Very many
members of these associations come into them without any thought of
advancing their own fortunes; they work very hard for their party, or
rather for the local body bearing the party name, but they do it quite
disinterestedly, and from a feeling akin to that which we often see
make other men devote their time and money to advancing the interests
of a yacht club or racing stable, although no immediate benefit can
result therefrom to themselves. One such man I now call to mind who
is by no means well off, and is neither an office-seeker nor an
office-holder, but who regularly every year spends about fifty dollars
at election time for the success of the party, or rather the wing of
the party, to which he belongs. He has a personal pride in seeing his
pet candidates rolling up large majorities. Men of this stamp also
naturally feel most enthusiasm for, or animosity against, the minor
candidates with whom they are themselves acquainted. The names at
the head of the ticket do not, to their minds, stand out with much
individuality; and while such names usually command the normal party
support, yet very often there is an infinitely keener rivalry among the
smaller politicians over candidates for local offices. I remember, in
1880, a very ardent Democratic ward club, many of the members of which
in the heat of a contest for an assemblyman cooly swapped off quite a
number of votes for President in consideration of votes given to their
candidate for the State Legislature; and in 1885, in my own district, a
local Republican club that had a member running for alderman, performed
a precisely similar feat in relation to their party’s candidate for
governor. A Tammany State Senator openly announced in a public speech
that it was of vastly more importance to Tammany to have one of her own
men Mayor of New York than it was to have a Democratic President of the
United States. Very many of the leaders of the rival organizations,
who lack the boldness to make such a frankly cynical avowal of what
their party feeling really amounts to, yet in practice, both as regards
mayor and as regards all other local offices which are politically or
pecuniarily of importance, act exactly on the theory enunciated by the
Tammany statesman; and, as a consequence, in every great election not
only is it necessary to have the mass of the voters waked up to the
importance of the principles that are at stake, but, unfortunately, it
is also necessary to see that the powerful local leaders are convinced
that it will be to their own interest to be faithful to the party
ticket. Often there will be intense rivalry between two associations
or two minor bosses; and one may take up and the other oppose the
cause of a candidate with an earnestness and hearty good-will arising
by no means from any feeling for the man himself, but from the desire
to score a triumph over the opposition. It not unfrequently happens
that a perfectly good man, who would not knowingly suffer the least
impropriety in the conduct of his canvass, is supported in some one
district by a little knot of politicians of shady character, who have
nothing in common with him at all, but who wish to beat a rival body
that is opposing him, and who do not for a moment hesitate to use
every device, from bribery down, to accomplish their ends. A curious
incident of this sort came to my knowledge while happening to inquire
how a certain man became a Republican. It occurred a good many years
ago, and thanks to our election laws it could not now be repeated in
all its details; but affairs similar in kind occur at every election. I
may preface it by stating that the man referred to, whom we will call
X, ended by pushing himself up in the world, thanks to his own industry
and integrity, and is now a well-to-do private citizen and as good a
fellow as anyone would wish to see. But at the time spoken of he was
a young laborer, of Irish birth, working for his livelihood on the
docks and associating with his Irish and American fellows. The district
where he lived was overwhelmingly Democratic, and the contests were
generally merely factional. One small politician, a saloonkeeper named
Larry, who had a great deal of influence, used to enlist on election
day, by pay and other compensation, the services of the gang of young
fellows to which X belonged. On one occasion he failed to reward them
for their work, and in other ways treated them so shabbily as to make
them very angry, more especially X, who was their leader. There was
no way to pay Larry off until the next election; but they determined
to break his influence utterly then, and as the best method for doing
this they decided to “vote as far away from him” as possible, or,
in other words, to strain every nerve to secure the election of all
the candidates most opposed to those whom Larry favored. After due
consultation, it was thought that this could be most surely done by
supporting the Republican ticket. Most of the other bodies of young
laborers, or, indeed, of young roughs, made common cause with X and his
friends. Everything was kept very quiet until election day, neither
Larry nor the few Republicans having an inkling of what was going on.
It was a rough district, and usually the Republican booths were broken
up and their ballot-distributers driven off early in the day; but on
this occasion, to the speechless astonishment of everybody, things
went just the other way. The Republican ballots were distributed most
actively, the opposing workers were bribed, persuaded, or frightened
away, all means fair and foul were tried, and finally there was almost
a riot,--the outcome being that the Republicans actually obtained a
majority in a district where they had never before polled ten per cent.
of the total vote. Such a phenomenon attracted the attention of the big
Republican leaders, who after some inquiry found it was due to X. To
show their gratitude and to secure so useful an ally permanently (for
this was before the days of civil-service reform), they procured him
a lucrative place in the New York Post-office; and he, in turn, being
a man of natural parts, at once seized the opportunity, set to work
to correct the defects of his early education, and is now what I have
described him to be.
BOSS METHODS.
A politician who becomes an influential local leader or boss is, of
course, always one with a genuine talent for intrigue and organization.
He owes much of his power to the rewards he is able to dispense. Not
only does he procure for his supporters positions in the service of the
State or city,--as in the custom-house, sheriff’s office, etc.,--but
he is also able to procure positions for many on horse railroads, the
elevated roads, quarry works, etc. Great corporations are peculiarly
subject to the attacks of demagogues, and they find it much to their
interest to be on good terms with the leader in each district who
controls the vote of the Assemblyman and Alderman; and therefore
the former is pretty sure that a letter of recommendation from him
on behalf of any applicant for work will receive most favorable
consideration. The leader is also continually helping his henchmen out
of difficulties, pecuniary and otherwise; he lends them a dollar or two
now and then, helps out, when possible, such of their kinsmen as get
into the clutches of the law, gets a hold over such of them as have
done wrong and are afraid of being exposed, and learns to mix judicious
bullying with the rendering of service.
But, in addition to all this, the boss owes very much of his commanding
influence to his social relations with various bodies of his
constituents; and it is his work as well as his pleasure to keep up
these relations. No _débutante_ during her first winter in society has
a more exacting round of social duties to perform than has a prominent
ward politician. In every ward there are numerous organizations,
primarily social in character, but capable of being turned to good
account politically. The Amalgamated Hack-drivers’ Union, the Hibernian
Republican Club, the West Side Young Democrats, the Jefferson C. Mullin
Picnic Association,--there are twenty such bodies as these in every
district, and with, at any rate, the master spirits in each and all it
is necessary for the boss to keep on terms of intimate and, indeed,
rather boisterous friendship. When the Jefferson C. Mullin society goes
on a picnic, the average citizen scrupulously avoids its neighborhood;
but the boss goes, perhaps with his wife, and, moreover, enjoys himself
heartily, and is hail-fellow-well-met with the rest of the picnickers,
who, by the way, may be by no means bad fellows; and when election
day comes round, the latter, in return, no matter to what party
they may nominally belong, enthusiastically support their friend and
guest, on social, not political, grounds. The boss knows every man
in his district who can control any number of votes: an influential
saloon-keeper, the owner of a large livery stable, the leader among
a set of horse-car drivers, a foreman in a machine-shop who has a
taste for politics,--with all alike he keeps up constant and friendly
relations. Of course this fact does not of itself make the boss a bad
man; there are several such I could point out who are ten times over
better fellows than are the mild-mannered scholars of timorous virtue
who criticise them. But on the whole the qualities tending to make a
man a successful local political leader under our present conditions
are not apt to be qualities that make him serve the public honestly or
disinterestedly; and in the lower wards, where there is a large vicious
population, the condition of politics is often fairly appalling,
and the boss of the dominant party is generally a man of grossly
immoral public and private character, as anyone can satisfy himself
by examining the testimony taken by the last two or three legislative
committees that have investigated the affairs of New York city. In some
of these wards many of the social organizations with which the leaders
are obliged to keep on good terms are composed of criminals, or of the
relatives and associates of criminals. The testimony mentioned above
showed some strange things. I will take at random a few instances that
occur to me at the moment. There was one case of an assemblyman who
served several terms in the Legislature, while his private business was
to carry on corrupt negotiations between the Excise Commissioners and
owners of low haunts who wished licenses. The president of a powerful
semi-political association was by profession a burglar; the man who
received the goods he stole was an alderman. Another alderman was
elected while his hair was still short from a term in State Prison.
A school trustee had been convicted of embezzlement, and was the
associate of criminals. A prominent official in the Police Department
was interested in disreputable houses and gambling saloons, and was
backed politically by their proprietors.
BEATING THE MACHINE.
In the better wards the difficulty comes in drilling a little sense
and energy into decent people: they either do not care to combine
or else refuse to learn how. In one district we did at one time and
for a considerable period get control of affairs and elect a set of
almost ideal delegates and candidates to the various nominating and
legislative bodies, and in the end took an absolutely commanding
although temporary position in State and even in national politics.
This was done by the efforts of some twenty or thirty young fellows who
devoted a large part of their time to thoroughly organizing and getting
out the respectable vote. The moving spirits were all active, energetic
men, with common sense, whose motives were perfectly disinterested.
Some went in from principle; others, doubtless, from good-fellowship
or sheer love of the excitement always attendant upon a political
struggle. Our success was due to our absolute freedom from caste
spirit. Among our chief workers were a Columbia College professor, a
crack oarsman from the same institution, an Irish quarryman, a master
carpenter, a rich young merchant, the owner of a small cigar store, the
editor of a little German newspaper, and a couple of employees from
the post-office and custom-house, who worked directly against their
own seeming interests. One of our important committees was composed
of a prominent member of a Jewish synagogue, of the son of a noted
Presbyterian clergyman, and of a young Catholic lawyer. We won some
quite remarkable triumphs, for the first time in New York politics
carrying primaries against the machine, and as the result of our most
successful struggle completely revolutionizing the State Convention
held to send delegates to the National Republican Convention of 1884,
and returning to that body, for the first and only time it was ever
done, a solid delegation of Independent Republicans. This was done,
however, by sheer hard work on the part of a score or so of men; the
mass of our good citizens, even after the victories which they had
assisted in winning, understood nothing about how they were won. Many
of them actually objected to organizing, apparently having a confused
idea that we could always win by what one of their number called a
“spontaneous uprising,” to which a quiet young fellow in our camp
grimly responded that he had done a good deal of political work in his
day, but that he never in his life had worked so hard and so long as he
did to get up the “spontaneous” movement in which we were then engaged.
CONCLUSIONS.
In conclusion, it may be accepted as a fact, however unpleasant, that
if steady work and much attention to detail are required, ordinary
citizens, to whom participation in politics is merely a disagreeable
duty, will always be beaten by the organized army of politicians to
whom it is both duty, business, and pleasure, and who are knit together
and to outsiders by their social relations. On the other hand, average
citizens do take a spasmodic interest in public affairs; and we should
therefore so shape our governmental system that the action required by
the voters should be as simple and direct as possible, and should not
need to be taken any more often than is necessary. Governmental power
should be concentrated in the hands of a very few men, who would be so
conspicuous that no citizen could help knowing all about them; and the
elections should not come too frequently. Not one decent voter in ten
will take the trouble annually to inform himself as to the character
of the host of petty candidates to be balloted for, but he will be
sure to know all about the mayor, comptroller, etc. It is not to his
credit that we can only rely, and that without much certainty, upon his
taking a spasmodic interest in the government that affects his own
well-being; but such is the case, and accordingly we ought, as far as
possible, to have a system requiring on his part intermittent and not
sustained action.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[9] The _Century_, November, 1886.
[10] Since succeeded every year or two by some other anti-Tammany
Democratic organization or organizations.
[11] All this has been changed, vastly for the better, by the ballot
reform laws, under which the State distributes the printed ballots; and
elections are now much more honest than formerly.
[12] As a consequence of our investigation the committee, of which
I was chairman, succeeded in securing the enactment of laws which
abolished these enormous salaries.
[Illustration]
VII
SIX YEARS OF CIVIL SERVICE REFORM[13]
No question of internal administration is so important to the United
States as the question of Civil Service reform, because the spoils
system, which can only be supplanted through the agencies which have
found expression in the act creating the Civil Service Commission,
has been for seventy years the most potent of all the forces tending
to bring about the degradation of our politics. No republic can
permanently endure when its politics are corrupt and base; and the
spoils system, the application in political life of the degrading
doctrine that to the victor belong the spoils, produces corruption and
degradation. The man who is in politics for the offices might just as
well be in politics for the money he can get for his vote, so far as
the general good is concerned. When the then Vice-President of the
United States, Mr. Hendricks, said that he “wished to take the boys
in out of the cold to warm their toes,” thereby meaning that he wished
to distribute offices among the more active heelers, to the rapturous
enthusiasm of the latter, he uttered a sentiment which was morally
on the same plane with a wish to give “the boys” five dollars apiece
all around for their votes, and fifty dollars apiece when they showed
themselves sufficiently active in bullying, bribing, and cajoling other
voters. Such a sentiment should bar any man from public life, and will
bar him whenever the people grow to realize that the worst enemies of
the Republic are the demagogue and the corruptionist. The spoils-monger
and spoils-seeker invariably breed the bribe-taker and bribe-giver,
the embezzler of public funds and the corrupter of voters. Civil
Service reform is not merely a movement to better the public service.
It achieves this end too; but its main purpose is to raise the tone of
public life, and it is in this direction that its effects have been of
incalculable good to the whole community.
For six years, from May, 1889, to May, 1895, I was a member of the
National Civil Service Commission, and it seems to me to be of
interest to show exactly what has been done to advance the law and
what to hinder its advancement during these six years, and who have
been the more prominent among its friends and foes. I wish to tell
“the adventures of Philip on his way through the world,” and show who
robbed him, who helped him, and who passed him by. It would take too
long to give the names of all our friends, and it is not worth while
to more than allude to most of our foes and to most of those who were
indifferent to us; but a few of the names should be preserved and some
record made of the fights that have been fought and won and of the way
in which, by fits and starts, and with more than one set-back, the
general advance has been made.