DOING THE POLITICAL CHORES
For the young man who wishes to rise in the politics of a great city there
is no royal road to preferment but only a plain path of modest service
uncomplainingly rendered. Of course, there seem to be exceptions to this
rule. At times it is possible for the scion of a great family to rise to
temporary distinction in politics without a preliminary course in the
school of local politics, for as a Democratic boss once said to me: "Great
family names are fine window-dressers," but in my own experience I have
seen the disappointing end of careers thus begun and have found that
sometimes after a great name has been temporarily used to meet certain
political emergencies, the would-be politician is quickly thrust aside to
make way for the less pretentious but more capable man. There is nothing
permanent or lasting about a place in politics gained in this adventitious
way. Of course, there sometimes come to high office men from military
careers, or men, like the distinguished subject of this book, from fields
apparently remote from practical politics, but such successes are due to
an appealing personal force, or to exceptional genius which the young
aspirant had better not assume that he possesses. The general rule holds
good that a political apprenticeship is as necessary and valuable as an
industrial apprenticeship.
My first official connection with politics was as the financial secretary
of the Fifth Ward Democratic Club of Jersey City. My father had told me
that if I intended to play an active part in politics, it would be
necessary to begin modestly at the bottom of the ladder, to do the
political chores, as it were, which are a necessary part of ward
organization work. I recall those days with singular pleasure, for my work
gave me an unusual opportunity to meet the privates in the ranks and to
make friendships that were permanent.
The meetings of the Club were held each week in a modest club house, with
part of the meeting given over to addresses made by what were then
considered the leading men in the Democratic party. It is queer how the
average political worker favours the senator, or the ex-judge, or the
ex-Congressman, as a speaker on these occasions. Ex-Congressman Gray, of
Texas (I doubt whether there ever was a congressman by that name), would
often be the headliner and he could be depended upon to draw a crowded and
enthusiastic house. The knowledge and experience I gained at these
inspirational meetings were mighty helpful to me in the political life I
had carved out for myself. I found that when you had convinced these
plain, everyday fellows that, although you were a college man, you were
not necessarily a highbrow, they were willing to serve you to the end. It
was a valuable course in a great university. It was not very long until I
was given my first opportunity, in 1896, to make my first political speech
in behalf of Mr. Bryan, then the Democratic candidate for President. I was
not able at that time to disentangle the intricacies of the difficult
money problems, but I endeavoured, imperfectly at least, in the speeches I
made, to lay my finger on what I considered the great moral issue that lay
behind the silver question in that memorable campaign--the attempt by
eastern financial interests to dominate the Government of the United
States.
After my apprenticeship, begun as secretary of the Fifth Ward Democratic
Club, an incident happened which caused a sudden rise in my political
stock. At a county convention I was given the opportunity of making the
nominating speech for the Fifth Ward's candidate for street and water
commissioner--a bricklayer and a fine fellow--who was opposing the machine
candidate. It was a real effort on my part and caused me days and nights
of worry and preparation. Indeed, it seemed to me to be the great moment
of my life. I vividly recall the incidents of what to me was a memorable
occasion. I distinctly remember that on the night of the Convention, with
the delegates from my ward, I faced an unfriendly and hostile audience,
our candidate having aroused the opposition of the boss and his
satellites. While I felt that the attitude of the Convention was one of
opposition to our candidate, there was no evidence of unfriendliness or
hostility to myself as the humble spokesman of the Fifth Ward. When I
stood up to speak I realized that I had to "play up" to the spirit of
generosity which is always latent in a crowd such as I was addressing. I
believe I won, although my candidate, unfortunately, lost. My Irish
buoyancy and good nature brought me over the line. I felt that the
audience in the gallery and the delegates on the floor were with me, but
unfortunately for my cause, the boss, who was always the dominating
influence of the Convention, was against me, and so we lost in the
spirited fight we made. In this first skirmish of my political career I
made up my mind to meet defeat with good grace and, if possible,
smilingly, and no sore spot or resentment over our defeat ever showed
itself in my attitude toward the men who saw fit to oppose us. Evidently,
the boss and his friends appreciated this attitude, for it was reported to
me shortly after the Convention that I was to be given recognition and by
the boss's orders would soon be placed on the eligible list for future
consideration in connection with a place on the legislative ticket.
One lesson I learned was not to be embittered by defeat. Since then I have
seen too many cases of men so disgruntled at being worsted in their first
battles that their political careers ended when they should have been just
beginning.