THE MAKING OF A PRESIDENT
Selwyn now devoted himself to the making of enough conservative senators
to control comfortably that body. The task was not difficult to a man
of his sagacity with all the money he could spend.
Newspapers were subsidized in ways they scarcely recognized themselves.
Honest officials who were in the way were removed by offering them
places vastly more remunerative, and in this manner he built up a
strong, intelligent and well constructed machine. It was done so sanely
and so quietly that no one suspected the master mind behind it all.
Selwyn was responsible to no one, took no one into his confidence, and
was therefore in no danger of betrayal.
It was a fascinating game to Selwyn. It appealed to his intellectual
side far more than it did to his avarice. He wanted to govern the Nation
with an absolute hand, and yet not be known as the directing power. He
arranged to have his name appear less frequently in the press and he
never submitted to interviews, laughingly ridding himself of reporters
by asserting that he knew nothing of importance. He had a supreme
contempt for the blatant self-advertised politician, and he removed
himself as far as possible from that type.
In the meantime his senators were being elected, the Rockland sentiment
was steadily growing and his nomination was finally brought about by the
progressives fighting vigorously for him and the conservatives
yielding a reluctant consent. It was done so adroitly that Rockland
would have been fooled himself, had not Selwyn informed him in advance
of each move as it was made.
After the nomination, Selwyn had trusted men put in charge of the
campaign, which he organized himself, though largely under cover. The
opposition party had every reason to believe that they would be
successful, and it was a great intellectual treat to Selwyn to overcome
their natural advantages by the sheer force of ability, plus what money
he needed to carry out his plans. He put out the cry of lack of funds,
and indeed it seemed to be true, for he was too wise to make a display
of his resources. To ward heelers, to the daily press, and to
professional stump speakers, he gave scant comfort. It was not to such
sources that he looked for success.
He began by eliminating all states he knew the opposition party would
certainly carry, but he told the party leaders there to claim that a
revolution was brewing, and that a landslide would follow at the
election. This would keep his antagonists busy and make them less
effective elsewhere.
He also ignored the states where his side was sure to win. In this way
he was free to give his entire thoughts to the twelve states that were
debatable, and upon whose votes the election would turn. He divided
each of these states into units containing five thousand voters, and, at
the national headquarters, he placed one man in charge of each unit. Of
the five thousand, he roughly calculated there would be two thousand
voters that no kind of persuasion could turn from his party and two
thousand that could not be changed from the opposition. This would
leave one thousand doubtful ones to win over. So he had a careful poll
made in each unit, and eliminated the strictly unpersuadable party men,
and got down to a complete analysis of the debatable one thousand.
Information was obtained as to their race, religion, occupation and
former political predilection. It was easy then to know how to reach
each individual by literature, by persuasion or perhaps by some more
subtle argument. No mistake was made by sending the wrong letter or the
wrong man to any of the desired one thousand.
In the states so divided, there was, at the local headquarters, one man
for each unit just as at the national headquarters. So these two had
only each other to consider, and their duty was to bring to Rockland a
majority of the one thousand votes within their charge. The local men
gave the conditions, the national men gave the proper literature and
advice, and the local man then applied it. The money that it cost to
maintain such an organization was more than saved from the waste that
would have occurred under the old method.
The opposition management was sending out tons of printed matter, but
they sent it to state headquarters that, in turn, distributed it to the
county organizations, where it was dumped into a corner and given to
visitors when asked for. Selwyn's committee used one-fourth as much
printed matter, but it went in a sealed envelope, along with a cordial
letter, direct to a voter that had as yet not decided how he would vote.
The opposition was sending speakers at great expense from one end of
the country to the other, and the sound of their voices rarely fell on
any but friendly and sympathetic ears. Selwyn sent men into his units to
personally persuade each of the one thousand hesitating voters to
support the Rockland ticket.
The opposition was spending large sums upon the daily press. Selwyn used
the weekly press so that he could reach the fireside of every farmer and
the dweller in the small country towns. These were the ones that would
read every line in their local papers and ponder over it.
The opposition had its candidates going by special train to every part
of the Union, making many speeches every day, and mostly to voters that
could not be driven from him either by force or persuasion. The leaders
in cities, both large and small, would secure a date and, having in mind
for themselves a postmastership or collectorship, would tell their
followers to turn out in great force and give the candidate a big
ovation. They wanted the candidate to remember the enthusiasm of these
places, and to leave greatly pleased and under the belief that he was
making untold converts. As a matter of fact his voice would seldom
reach any but a staunch partisan.
Selwyn kept Rockland at home, and arranged to have him meet by special
appointment the important citizens of the twelve uncertain states. He
would have the most prominent party leader, in a particular state, go to
a rich brewer or large manufacturer, whose views had not yet been
crystallized, and say, "Governor Rockland has expressed a desire to know
you, and I would like to arrange a meeting." The man approached would be
flattered to think he was of such importance that a candidate for the
presidency had expressed a desire to meet him. He would know it was his
influence that was wanted but, even so, there was a subtle flattery in
that. An appointment would be arranged. Just before he came into
Rockland's presence, his name and a short epitome of his career would be
handed to Rockland to read. When he reached Rockland's home he would at
first be denied admittance. His sponsor would say,--"this is Mr. Munting
of Muntingville." "Oh, pardon me, Mr. Munting, Governor Rockland
expects you."
And in this way he is ushered into the presence of the great. His fame,
up to a moment ago, was unknown to Rockland, but he now grasps his hand
cordially and says,--"I am delighted to know you, Mr. Munting. I recall
the address you made a few years ago when you gave a library to
Muntingville. It is men of your type that have made America what it is
to-day, and, whether you support me or not, if I am elected President it
is such as you that I hope will help sustain my hands in my effort to
give to our people a clean, sane and conservative government."
When Munting leaves he is stepping on air. He sees visions of visits to
Washington to consult the President upon matters of state, and perhaps
he sees an ambassadorship in the misty future. He becomes Rockland's
ardent supporter, and his purse is open and his influence is used to the
fullest extent.
And this was Selwyn's way. It was all so simple. The opposition was
groaning under the thought of having one hundred millions of people to
reach, and of having to persuade a majority of twenty millions of voters
to take their view.
Selwyn had only one thousand doubtful voters in each of a few units on
his mind, and he knew the very day when a majority of them had decided
to vote for Rockland, and that his fight was won. The pay-roll of the
opposition was filled with incompetent political hacks, that had been
fastened upon the management by men of influence. Selwyn's force, from
end to end, was composed of able men who did a full day's work under the
eye of their watchful taskmaster.
And Selwyn won and Rockland became the keystone of the arch he had set
out to build.
There followed in orderly succession the inauguration, the selection of
cabinet officers and the new administration was launched.
Drunk with power and the adulation of sycophants, once or twice Rockland
asserted himself, and acted upon important matters without having first
conferred with Selwyn. But, after he had been bitterly assailed by
Selwyn's papers and by his senators, he made no further attempts at
independence. He felt that he was utterly helpless in that strong man's
hands, and so, indeed, he was.
One of the Supreme Court justices died, two retired because of age, and
all were replaced by men suggested by Selwyn.
He now had the Senate, the Executive and a majority of the Court of
last resort. The government was in his hands. He had reached the summit
of his ambition, and the joy of it made all his work seem worth while.
But Selwyn, great man that he was, did not know, could not know, that
when his power was greatest it was most insecure. He did not know, could
not know, what force was working to his ruin and to the ruin of his
system.
Take heart, therefore, you who had lost faith in the ultimate destiny of
the Republic, for a greater than Selwyn is here to espouse your cause.
He comes panoplied in justice and with the light of reason in his eyes.
He comes as the advocate of equal opportunity and he comes with the
power to enforce his will.