speaking, rob the town. That was not his way, and it would be a
carelessly unnecessary way in Pennsylvania. But surely he does not
deserve a monument.
Magee was an American. His paternal great-grandfather served in the
Revolution, and settled in Pittsburg at the close of the war.
Christopher was born on Good Friday, April 14, 1848. He was sent to
school till he was fifteen years old. Then his father died, and “Squire”
or “Tommy” Steele, his uncle, a boss of that day, gave him his start in
life with a place in the City Treasury. When just twenty-one, he made
him cashier, and two years later Chris had himself elected City
Treasurer by a majority of 1100 on a ticket the head of which was beaten
by 1500 votes.
Such was his popularity; and, though he systematized and capitalized it,
it lasted to the end, for the foundation thereof was goodness of heart
and personal charm. Magee was tall, strong, and gracefully built. His
hair was dark till it turned gray, then his short mustache and his
eyebrows held black, and his face expressed easily sure power and
genial, hearty kindness. But he was ambitious for power, and all his
goodness of heart was directed by a shrewd mind.
When Chris saw the natural following gathering about him he realized,
young as he was, the use of it, and he retired from office (holding only
a fire commissionership) with the avowed purpose of becoming a boss.
Determined to make his ring perfect, he went to Philadelphia to study
the plan in operation there. Later, when the Tweed ring was broken, he
spent months in New York looking into Tammany’s machine methods and the
mistakes which had led to its exposure and disruption. With that
cheerful candor which softens indignation he told a fellow-townsman (who
told me) what he was doing in New York; and when Magee returned he
reported that a ring could be made as safe as a bank. He had, to start
with, a growing town too busy for self-government; two not very unequal
parties, neither of them well organized; a clear field in his own, the
majority party in the city, county, and State. There was boodle, but it
was loosely shared by too many persons. The governing instrument was the
old charter of 1816, which lodged all the powers—legislative,
administrative, and executive—in the councils, common and select. The
mayor was a peace officer, with no responsible power. Indeed, there was
no responsibility anywhere. There were no departments. Committees of
councils did the work usually done by departments, and the councilmen,
unsalaried and unanswerable individually, were organized into what might
have become a combine had not Magee set about establishing the one-man
power there.
To control councils Magee had to organize the wards, and he was managing
this successfully at the primaries, when a new and an important figure
appeared on the scene—William Flinn. Flinn was Irish, a Protestant of
Catholic stock, a boss contractor, and a natural politician. He beat one
of Magee’s brothers in his ward. Magee laughed, inquired, and, finding
him a man of opposite or complementary disposition and talents, took him
into a partnership. A happy, profitable combination, it lasted for life.
Magee wanted power, Flinn wealth. Each got both these things; but Magee
spent his wealth for more power, and Flinn spent his power for more
wealth. Magee was the sower, Flinn the reaper. In dealing with men they
came to be necessary to each other, these two. Magee attracted
followers, Flinn employed them. The men Magee won Flinn compelled to
obey, and those he lost Magee won back. When the councils were first
under his control Magee stood in the lobby to direct them, always by
suggestions and requests, which sometimes a mean and ungrateful fellow
would say he could not heed. Magee told him it was all right, which
saved the man, but lost the vote. So Flinn took the lobby post, and he
said: “Here, you go and vote aye.” If they disobeyed the plain order
Flinn punished them, and so harshly that they would run to Magee to
complain. He comforted them. “Never mind Flinn,” he would say
sympathetically; “he gives me no end of trouble, too. But I’d like to
have you do what he asked. Go and do it for me, and let me attend to
Flinn. I’ll fix him.”
Magee could command, too, and fight and punish. If he had been alone he
probably would have hardened with years. And so Flinn, after Magee died,
softened with time, but too late. He was useful to Magee, Magee was
indispensable to him. Molasses and vinegar, diplomacy and force, mind
and will, they were well mated. But Magee was the genius. It was Magee
that laid the plans they worked out together.
Boss Magee’s idea was not to corrupt the city government, but to be it;
not to hire votes in councils, but to own councilmen; and so, having
seized control of his organization, he nominated cheap or dependent men
for the select and common councils. Relatives and friends were his first
recourse, then came bartenders, saloon-keepers, liquor dealers, and
others allied to the vices, who were subject to police regulation and
dependent in a business way upon the maladministration of law. For the
rest he preferred men who had no visible means of support, and to
maintain them he used the usual means—patronage. And to make his
dependents secure he took over the county government. Pittsburg is in
Allegheny County, which has always been more strongly Republican than
the city. No matter what happened in the city, the county pay-roll was
always Magee’s, and he made the county part of the city government.
With all this city and county patronage at his command, Magee went
deliberately about undermining the Democratic party. The minority
organization is useful to a majority leader; it saves him trouble and
worry in ordinary times; in party crises he can use it to whip his own
followers into line; and when the people of a city rise in revolt it is
essential for absolute rule that you have the power not only to prevent
the minority leaders from combining with the good citizens, but to unite
the two organizations to whip the community into shape. Moreover, the
existence of a supposed opposition party splits the independent vote and
helps to keep alive that sentiment, “loyalty to party,” which is one of
the best holds the boss has on his unruly subjects. All bosses, as we
have seen in Minneapolis and St. Louis, rise above partisan bias. Magee,
the wisest of them, was also the most generous, and he liked to win over
opponents who were useful to him. Whenever he heard of an able
Democratic worker in a ward, he sent for his own Republican leader.
“So-and-so is a good man, isn’t he?” he would ask. “Going to give you a
run, isn’t he? Find out what he wants, and we’ll see what we can do. We
must have him.” Thus the able Democrat achieved office for himself or
his friend, and the city or the county paid. At one time, I was told,
nearly one-quarter of the places on the pay-roll were held by Democrats,
who were, of course, grateful to Chris Magee, and enabled him in
emergencies to wield their influence against revolting Republicans. Many
a time a subservient Democrat got Republican votes to beat a “dangerous”
Republican, and when Magee, toward the end of his career, wished to go
to the State Senate, both parties united in his nomination and elected
him unanimously.
Business men came almost as cheap as politicians, and they came also at
the city’s expense. Magee had control of public funds and the choice of
depositories. That is enough for the average banker—not only for him
that is chosen, but for him also that may some day hope to be chosen—and
Magee dealt with the best of those in Pittsburg. This service, moreover,
not only kept them docile, but gave him and Flinn credit at their banks.
Then, too, Flinn and Magee’s operations soon developed on a scale which
made their business attractive to the largest financial institutions for
the profits on their loans, and thus enabled them to distribute and
share in the golden opportunities of big deals. There are ring banks in
Pittsburg, ring trust companies, and ring brokers. The manufacturers and
the merchants were kept well in hand by many little municipal grants and
privileges, such as switches, wharf rights, and street and alley
vacations. These street vacations are a tremendous power in most cities.
A foundry occupies a block, spreads to the next block, and wants the
street between. In St. Louis the business man boodled for his street. In
Pittsburg he went to Magee, and I have heard such a man praise Chris,
“because when I called on him his outer office was filled with waiting
politicians, but he knew I was a business man and in a hurry; he called
me in first, and he gave me the street without any fuss. I tell you it
was a sad day for Pittsburg when Chris Magee died.” This business man,
the typical American merchant everywhere, cares no more for his city’s
interest than the politician does, and there is more light on American
political corruption in such a speech than in the most sensational
exposure of details. The business men of Pittsburg paid for their little
favors in “contributions to the campaign fund,” plus the loss of their
self-respect, the liberty of the citizens generally, and (this may
appeal to their mean souls) in higher taxes.
As for the railroads, they did not have to be bought or driven in; they
came, and promptly, too. The Pennsylvania appeared early, just behind
Magee, who handled their passes and looked out for their interest in
councils and afterwards at the State Legislature. The Pennsylvania
passes, especially those to Atlantic City and Harrisburg, have always
been a “great graft” in Pittsburg. For the sort of men Magee had to
control a pass had a value above the price of a ticket; to “flash” one
is to show a badge of power and relationship to the ring. The big
ringsters, of course, got from the railroads financial help when
cornered in business deals—stock tips, shares in speculative and other
financial turns, and political support. The Pennsylvania Railroad is a
power in Pennsylvania politics, it is part of the State ring, and part
also of the Pittsburg ring. The city paid in all sorts of rights and
privileges, streets, bridges, etc., and in certain periods the business
interests of the city were sacrificed to leave the Pennsylvania Road in
exclusive control of a freight traffic it could not handle alone.
With the city, the county, the Republican and Democratic organizations,
the railroads and other corporations, the financiers and the business
men, all well under control, Magee needed only the State to make his
rule absolute. And he was entitled to it. In a State like New York,
where one party controls the Legislature and another the city, the
people in the cities may expect some protection from party opposition.
In Pennsylvania, where the Republicans have an overwhelming majority,
the Legislature at Harrisburg is an essential part of the government of
Pennsylvania cities, and that is ruled by a State ring. Magee’s ring was
a link in the State ring, and it was no more than right that the State
ring should become a link in his ring. The arrangement was easily made.
One man, Matthew S. Quay, had received from the people all the power in
the State, and Magee saw Quay. They came to an understanding without the
least trouble. Flinn was to be in the Senate, Magee in the lobby, and
they were to give unto Quay political support for his business in the
State in return for his surrender to them of the State’s functions of
legislation for the city of Pittsburg.
Now such understandings are common in our politics, but they are verbal
usually and pretty well kept, and this of Magee and Quay was also
founded in secret good faith. But Quay, in crises, has a way of
straining points to win, and there were no limits to Magee’s ambition
for power. Quay and Magee quarreled constantly over the division of
powers and spoils, so after a few years of squabbling they reduced their
agreement to writing. This precious instrument has never been published.
But the agreement was broken in a great row once, and when William Flinn
and J. O. Brown undertook to settle the differences and renew the bond,
Flinn wrote out in pencil in his own hand an amended duplicate which he
submitted to Quay, whose son subsequently gave it out for publication. A
facsimile of one page is reproduced in this article. Here is the whole
contract, with all the unconscious humor of the “party of the first
part” and “said party of the second part,” a political-legal-commercial
insult to a people boastful of self-government:
[Illustration:
FACSIMILE OF THE FAMOUS QUAY-FLINN “MUTUAL POLITICAL AND BUSINESS
ADVANTAGE AGREEMENT.”
]
“Memorandum and agreement between M. S. Quay of the first part and
J. O. Brown and William Flinn of the second part, the
consideration of this agreement being the mutual political and
business advantage which may result therefrom.
“First—The said M. S. Quay is to have the benefit of the influence
in all matters in state and national politics of the said parties
of the second part, the said parties agreeing that they will
secure the election of delegates to the state and national
convention, who will be guided in all matters by the wishes of the
said party of the first part, and who will also secure the
election of members of the state senate from the Forty-third,
Forty-fourth, and Forty-fifth senatorial districts, and also
secure the election of members of the house of representatives
south of the Monongahela and Ohio rivers in the county of
Allegheny, who will be guided by the wishes and request of the
said party of the first part during the continuance of this
agreement upon all political matters. The different candidates for
the various positions mentioned shall be selected by the parties
of the second part, and all the positions of state and national
appointments made in this territory mentioned shall be
satisfactory to and secure the indorsement of the party of the
second part, when the appointment is made either by or through the
party of the first part, or his friends or political associates.
All legislation affecting the parties of the second part,
affecting cities of the second class, shall receive the hearty
co-operation and assistance of the party of the first part, and
legislation which may affect their business shall likewise receive
the hearty co-operation and help of the party of the first part.
It bring distinctly understood that at the approaching national
convention, to be held at St. Louis, the delegates front the
Twenty-second congressional district shall neither by voice nor
vote do other than what is satisfactory to the party of the first
part. The party of the first part agrees to use his influence and
secure the support of his friends and political associates to
support the Republican county and city ticket, when nominated,
both in the city of Pittsburg and Allegheny, and the county of
Allegheny, and that he will discountenance the factional fighting
by his friends and associates for county offices during the
continuation of this agreement. This agreement is not to be
binding upon the parties of the second part when a candidate for
any office who [_sic_] shall reside in Allegheny county, and shall
only be binding if the party of the first part is a candidate for
United States senator to succeed himself so far as this office is
concerned. In the Forty-third senatorial district a new senator
shall be elected to succeed Senator Upperman. In the Forty-fifth
senatorial district the party of the first part shall secure the
withdrawal of Dr. A. J. Barchfeld, and the parties of the second
part shall withdraw as a candidate Senator Steel, and the parties
of the second part shall secure the election of some party
satisfactory to themselves. In the Twenty-second congressional
district the candidates for congress shall be selected by the
party of the second part. The term of this agreement to be for ——
years from the signing thereof, and shall be binding upon all
parties when signed by C. L. Magee.”
Thus was the city of Pittsburg turned over by the State to an individual
to do with as he pleased. Magee’s ring was complete. He was the city,
Flinn was the councils, the county was theirs, and now they had the
State Legislature so far as Pittsburg was concerned. Magee and Flinn
were the government and the law. How could they commit a crime? If they
wanted something from the city they passed an ordinance granting it, and
if some other ordinance was in conflict it was repealed or amended. If
the laws in the State stood in the way, so much the worse for the laws
of the State; they were amended. If the constitution of the State proved
a barrier, as it did to all special legislation, the Legislature enacted
a law for cities of the second class (which was Pittsburg alone) and the
courts upheld the Legislature. If there were opposition on the side of
public opinion, there was a use for that also.
The new charter which David D. Bruce fought through councils in 1886–87
was an example of the way Magee and, after him, Quay and other
Pennsylvania bosses employed popular movements. As his machine grew
Magee found council committees unwieldy in some respects, and he wanted
a change. He took up Bruce’s charter, which centered all executive and
administrative power and responsibility in the mayor and heads of
departments, passed it through the Legislature, but so amended that the
heads of departments were not to be appointed by the mayor, but elected
by councils. These elections were by expiring councils, so that the
department chiefs held over, and with their patronage insured the
re-election of the councilmen who elected them. The Magee-Flinn machine,
perfect before, was made self-perpetuating. I know of nothing like it in
any other city. Tammany in comparison is a plaything, and in the
management of a city Croker was a child beside Chris Magee.
The graft of Pittsburg falls conveniently into four classes: franchises,
public contracts, vice, and public funds. There was, besides these, a
lot of miscellaneous loot—public supplies, public lighting, and the
water supply. You hear of second-class fire-engines taken at first-class
prices, water rents from the public works kept up because a private
concern that supplied the South Side could charge no more than the city,
a gas contract to supply the city lightly availed of. But I cannot go
into these. Neither can I stop for the details of the system by which
public funds were left at no interest with favored depositories from
which the city borrowed at a high rate, or the removal of funds to a
bank in which the ringsters were shareholders. All these things were
managed well within the law, and that was the great principle underlying
the Pittsburg plan.
The vice graft, for example, was not blackmail as it is in New York and
most other cities. It is a legitimate business, conducted, not by the
police, but in an orderly fashion by syndicates, and the chairman of one
of the parties at the last election said it was worth $250,000 a year. I
saw a man who was laughed at for offering $17,500 for the slot-machine
concession; he was told that it was let for much more. “Speak-easies”
(unlicensed drinking places) pay so well that when they earn $500 or
more in twenty-four hours their proprietors often make a bare living.
Disorderly houses are managed by ward syndicates. Permission is had from
the syndicate real estate agent, who alone can rent them. The syndicate
hires a house from the owners at, say, $35 a month, and he lets it to a
woman at from $35 to $50 a week. For furniture the tenant must go to the
“official furniture man,” who delivers $1000 worth of “fixings” for a
note for $3000, on which high interest must be paid. For beer the tenant
must go to the “official bottler,” and pay $2 for a one-dollar case of
beer; for wines and liquors to the “official liquor commissioner,” who
charges $10 for five dollars’ worth; for clothes to the “official
wrapper maker.” These women may not buy shoes, hats, jewelry, or any
other luxury or necessity except from the official concessionaries, and
then only at the official, monopoly prices. If the victims have anything
left, a police or some other city official is said to call and get it
(there are rich ex-police officials in Pittsburg). But this is blackmail
and outside the system, which is well understood in the community. Many
men, in various walks of life, told me separately the names of the
official bottlers, jewelers, and furnishers; they are notorious, but
they are safe. They do nothing illegal. Oppressive, wretched, what you
please, the Pittsburg system is safe.
That was the keynote of the Flinn-Magee plan, but this vice graft was
not their business. They are credited with the suppression of disorder
and decent superficial regulations of vice, which is a characteristic of
Pittsburg. I know it is said that under the Philadelphia and Pittsburg
plans, which are much alike, “all graft and all patronage go across one
table,” but if any “dirty money” reached the Pittsburg bosses it was, so
far as I could prove, in the form of contributions to the party fund,
and came from the vice dealers only as it did from other business men.
Magee and Flinn, owners of Pittsburg, made Pittsburg their business,
and, monopolists in the technical economic sense of the word, they
prepared to exploit it as if it were their private property. For
convenience they divided it between them. Magee took the financial and
corporate branch, turning the streets to his uses, delivering to himself
franchises, and building and running railways. Flinn went in for public
contracts for his firm, Booth & Flinn, Limited, and his branch boomed.
Old streets were repaved, new ones laid out; whole districts were
improved, parks made, and buildings erected. The improvement of their
city went on at a great rate for years, with only one period of
cessation, and the period of economy was when Magee was building so many
traction lines that Booth & Flinn, Ltd., had all they could do with this
work. It was said that no other contractors had an adequate “plant” to
supplement properly the work of Booth & Flinn, Ltd. Perhaps that was why
this firm had to do such a large proportion of the public work always.
Flinn’s Director of Public Works was E. M. Bigelow, a cousin of Chris
Magee and another nephew of old Squire Steele. Bigelow, called the
Extravagant, drew the specifications; he made the awards to the lowest
_responsible_ bidders, and he inspected and approved the work while in
progress and when done.