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A Woman For Mayor
A Novel of To-day
By
Helen M. Winslow
Author of "Literary Boston of Today," etc.
Former Editor of "The Club Woman"
Frontispiece by
Walter Dean Goldbeck
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Copyright 1909
by
The Reilly & Britton Co.
All rights reserved
Published June, 1909
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LIST OF CHAPTERS
CHAPTER PAGE
I An Unprecedented Proposal 11
II A Perplexed Reformer 23
III Learning the Ropes 35
IV Practical Politics 55
V The Opposition Candidate 65
VI A Political Trick 77
VII An Unusual Ride 90
VIII Modern Journalism 102
IX Election Day 112
X The New Mayor's Policy 125
XI At Work 140
XII Skirmishing 152
XIII An Important Appointment 166
XIV Graft 177
XV Setting the Trap 191
XVI Divided Interests 207
XVII A Dumbfounded Populace 220
XVIII A Futile Search 230
XIX The Boodlers Score 240
XX An Enforced Vacation 247
XXI Word from the Missing 261
XXII A Daring Escape 273
XXIII The Hearts of the People 284
XXIV An Honest Confession 295
XXV The Old, Old Story 310
XXVI Retrospect and Prophecy 326
XXVII A Heart's Awakening 338
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FOREWORD
"Chimerical!" the average man will exclaim when he reads the title of
this book.
"But why not?" his wife will answer.
"Worth trying," the reformers and philanthropists will add.
"One of us," the suffragette will conclude.
And there may be a grain of truth in every answer. But the idea is not
absolutely new. At this writing, there is a woman-mayor in one of the
smaller cities of the middle states in America; while over in England
there are, I believe, two women doing good work in the municipal chair.
And again, "Why not?" Housekeeping is a woman's business. It is the
primeval instinct at the bottom of every woman's heart. The average
American and English home is a clean, sweet, sanitary and well-governed
institution,--made and kept so by some woman. God made women to be
wives, mothers and home-makers; and if our modern conditions have sent
some of us out into the world to earn our own living and perhaps to
support somebody else, the instinct remains--as witness the thousands of
tiny flats or cottages where these women dwell and maintain a home, "be
it ever so humble." And so, if we are the natural housekeepers, the
conservators of health and morals and civic pride, why not a woman at
the head of municipal affairs?
The suffragette, the reformer, the philanthropist, the average wife are
right, too. As for the average man--let him read the story of Roma's
woman-mayor and think it over. And if he does not decide to vote for a
woman as mayor, perhaps he will come to see that woman's housekeeping
instinct and newly awakened civic sense, added to a revival of public
honesty among men, might well combine to make a model city.
If "it is not good for man to live alone," perhaps it is not well for
him to manage his City Hall alone. After all, is it "chimerical?"
H. M. W.
Cambridge, Mass.
May, 1909.
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A WOMAN FOR MAYOR
CHAPTER I
An Unprecedented Proposal
"Well, why shouldn't we change it?" asked Mrs. Bateman, as she scooped
out the grape-fruit that formed the first course at the P. W.'s regular
monthly luncheon.
"Change it? Change what?--How?" asked several voices at once.
"The state of affairs in this city," pursued Mrs. Bateman calmly. "I
have been thinking things over since I got home this fall. Everybody
agrees that our little city is going to the dogs; that municipal affairs
were never so muddled as now. And now, here is Barnaby Burke running
for mayor, with a ravenous pack of demagogues behind him."
"Yes, and not a decent man to run against him," added Cornelia Jewett.
"I don't see why," began the fluffy little woman in light blue, "I don't
see why no genuine, honest, upright gentleman will allow his name to be
used. Rudolph says it has got so that nobody but a politician will
consent to be mayor of Roma."
"They're all afraid of the demagogues," put in another. "There's Albert
Turner; he ought to stand as a candidate. But I suppose he wouldn't?"
She turned to a large fair lady across the table who was placidly
consuming her soup.
"My husband isn't interested in politics," was the reply. "His business
affairs are too pressing."
"That's the trouble with most of the men," commented another. "They are
too much absorbed in their own affairs to care much what happens to the
community. We need a little more of the socialistic spirit."
"Oh, dreadful!" muttered another. "We shall be preaching anarchy next."
"And Granville Mason--or Geoffrey Bateman," added the fluffy lady in
blue.
"My husband said last night that politics had sunk to such a pass in
this town that no decent man would touch the City Hall with a pair of
tongs," said Mrs. Mason. "That's the answer he gave a couple of men who
came from Headquarters to ask him to stand. And he said that whatever
decent man accepted the nomination was sure to be defeated. He doesn't
care to be the figure-head of Defeat."
"That's the way they all feel," said Gertrude Van Deusen. "I wish I
were a man. I'd run for mayor! I wouldn't let the figure of Defeat worry
me. I'd make a fight, I would, and we'd see if the demagogues had
everything their own way."
"Why not run, then?" asked Mrs. Bateman, smiling across the table.
"I'd get every decent man roused up, for once," said Gertrude,
enthusiastically, "I'd go into every ward and organize--as they do. I'd
work among the poor, the illiterate, the unfortunate; and I'd rouse the
rich and educated, too. That's the class that need awakening in this
town."
"Then you're the right candidate," said Mrs. Bateman. "Why don't you
take it? Really, now, why not?"
"O, Mrs. Bateman, I was only imagining a case." Miss Van Deusen was
blushing and confused now. "Of course I couldn't run for office, not
really."
"Why not?" asked the elder woman in the calm, judicial way which made
her a leader among women. "Why not? The town is going to the dogs--or
rather, to the demagogues. We need a complete revolution in Roma. We
women have the vote in this state; why not take matters into our own
hands? Why not have a woman for mayor?"
"O-o-oh!" gasped several of her hearers in the slight pause.
"Think of the field of activities that would open up before a good
woman," she went on. "The condition of our paupers, of our children's
institutions, of our schools. Think of the intemperance and the vagrancy
and the immorality that flourish under our very noses. Yes, and the
machine-politics that keep them flourishing. Oh, there is so much to be
done, and our good men too busy, or--as they claim--too high-minded to
meddle with it."
"Then what would, what could a decent woman do with it?" demanded Mrs.
Jewett.
"Walk through it like an angel of light," answered Mrs. Bateman.
"Ladies, we as the 'Progressive Workers' have labored ten years to
effect reforms in this town, to further the interests of the schools,
the poor, the dependent. What have we accomplished?"
"Why, why, a little," replied Mrs. Jewett. "Enough to have made our
names respected and--yes, a little to be feared."
"But not enough," resumed Mrs. Bateman. "Not so much as we ought to have
done. Not so much as we might have done had the City Council been with,
instead of against us, or at best, merely tolerant of us. Now here is
our opportunity. The lower element has put up a man, notoriously bad
and unfit, to be mayor. The better side is all at sea. Our old mayor
(weak enough, but infinitely better than Barnaby Burke) is ill with an
incurable disease, and no one whose name inspires the least particle of
confidence has been mentioned yet to take his place. Let us put up a
good, whole-souled, fearless woman and get her elected."
"Impossible!" said Mrs. Jewett.
"We can do it," said the fluffy woman in blue. "My husband would help
us; I know he would."
"But who?" asked Mrs. Mason. "Where could we find the woman?"
"Right here in our ranks," said Mrs. Bateman. "One of our own members.
Gertrude, you're just the woman for us."
Miss Van Deusen did not answer. Only the quick flush showed how the
possibilities of the moment found echo in the consternation at her
heart.
"You are independent both by nature and by inheritance. You represent
the best element of our citizens, you have means and time, you are bound
by no family ties, and you have the kind of courage for the position,"
urged Mrs. Bateman.
"What will the men say?" reflected Mrs. Jewett.
"It'll give 'em a shock," murmured Mrs. Mason, decidedly. "They need a
shock. Yes, Gertrude, you are just the woman to try it,--to try for it,
I mean. We'll all work for you,--and with you."
"Now, ladies, let us look the situation squarely in the face," said Mrs.
Bateman. "I've lain awake many a night of late, thinking out things. It
will mean a tremendous amount of hard and systematic work to elect a
woman to the mayor's chair in Roma. But if we are thoroughly organized
and can get some of the men's leagues and clubs to endorse us, I believe
we can win. Think of it seriously a few minutes, and let us keep silence
for a little while."
Then ensued the strange spectacle of fifteen women sitting at
luncheon--speechless. It was a custom they had, whenever an important
subject came up for discussion, to take ten or fifteen minutes for
silent thought instead of wasting that time in discussion that did not
get anywhere; so that when the moment for talking arrived the
club-members, being accustomed to exert their mental powers, were
prepared to advance and weigh such arguments as might be brought forth.
"Gertrude," said Mrs. Bateman at last, "you haven't spoken yet. You see
your civic duty?"
"It will call for an appalling amount of courage and self-reliance and
belief in the ideals of good government," began Gertrude--and stopped.
Her voice thrilled with a new emotion and her fine eyes glowed with
prophetic hopefulness.
"But the best people would be all with you," put in a young woman at the
other end of the table.
"Would they, I wonder?" queried Miss Van Deusen. "From the time of the
Nazarene down to today, some of the best people have found it
inexpedient to stand by the right when it was presented in strange or
new guise; and surely this would be a novel innovation--a woman for
mayor."
"But you have courage enough," urged Mrs. Mason.
"If there was ever a woman with ideals," said Mary Snow, a newspaper
woman who had not yet spoken, "her name was--is Gertrude Van Deusen."
"Friends," said Miss Van Deusen, "I'm going to stick to my guns. I said
in my haste that I'd never let the figure-head of Defeat worry or scare
me; that I would put up a fight. Well, I'll make the fight, I'll stand
for the nomination and if I get it, for election."
"Three cheers for Gertrude Van Deusen," cried Mrs. Mason, and a vigorous
round of hand-claps was her answer. Handkerchiefs were waved and there
was excitement among the P. W.'s.
"My husband has just got to take the stump for you," said the fluffy
woman. "I'll make him."
"Thank you, Bella," was Miss Van Deusen's reply. "I suppose I shall be
emblazoned and lauded and berated in the newspapers, and shall come out
at the end of the campaign with scarcely a rag of reputation left,
whether I win or lose."
"You are going to win, Gertrude," said Mrs. Bateman calmly.
"Yes, I'm going to win," answered the younger woman. And as she sat with
her handsome head thrown hack and her far-seeing gaze looking out and
past the assembled women into the stormy future, not one of them
doubted, at the moment, the truth of her confident prophecy.