CHAPTER II.

RUM AND POLITICS.

America is pre-eminently the land of legislative experiments; and it has

unequalled facilities for giving trial, with comparatively little risk, to

many of the professed solutions of those problems which the artificial

life of civilised society has produced. On nothing has it made more

numerous or varied experiments than on efforts to promote sobriety by law.

Each State in the Union is free, within certain limits, to regulate or

suppress the liquor traffic within its own borders, without interference

from the Federal Government. The latter body, however, maintains freedom

of inter-State traffic, and has the power to tax liquor, and to impose

internal revenue fees on brewers and saloon keepers. These fees are most

strictly enforced; and the first thing a man does who contemplates

entering the drink trade, whether legally or illegally, is to take out his

internal revenue licence. Even the individual who surreptitiously sells

half a dozen bottles of whisky a month in the lowest "speak-easy" rarely

thinks of attempting to evade the Federal revenue law; for conviction is

so sure, and the penalties are so heavy, that it does not pay.

In seeking to learn what lessons can be taught to old-world politicians

from the new-world experiments, it must be borne in mind that, although

the Americans are mostly of one blood with ourselves, the conditions of

their social and political life are yet very different. The liquor problem

occupies a far more prominent place there than at home, and the saloon

keeper is an influential force in State, Union, and City politics. The

temperance element is strong and active, and exercises a social influence

not easy to estimate. A solid public sentiment has been created against

even the moderate use of intoxicants; personal abstinence is advocated as

part of the routine in nearly all the public elementary schools; it is

regarded as disreputable for a man to frequent saloons; and, except under

very extraordinary circumstances, no respectable woman would think of

crossing their doorsteps. Many employers of labour, especially railway

companies, go so far as to insist that their hands shall be abstainers.

But while the work of the teetotalers has been productive of much

socially, their political work has been far more spasmodic, and less

effective. They are split into cliques; and whatever proposal may be

brought forward, there is almost certain to be a body of irreconcilables

who fight against it. In America, as in other countries, the greatest

opponents of temperance legislation are always temperance reformers: if a

law is moderate, then it incurs the enmity of those who believe that any

other plan than the utter and immediate destruction of the saloon is sin;

if it satisfies the extremists, it is opposed by those who declare that

such uncompromising legislation will produce a reaction, and so in the

end do more harm than good. A still greater cause of weakness than even

their internal divisions is the temporary character of much of their work.

The respectable people of a city or State will rouse themselves to a

fever-heat of emotion over some social reform, and will carry it into law

with a rush. Then the excitement will gradually die away, and in a shorter

or a longer time the new law will be left to enforce itself; affairs will

soon drop back into their old groove, until, possibly, some time after, a

specially flagrant case of law-breaking again arouses the public

conscience, and the same thing is gone through once more.

The brewers and saloon keepers work differently. They are efficiently

organised, and have behind them an almost unlimited supply of money and a

considerable voting power. Their work is not the unselfish advancement of

some general benefit, but the protection of their own pecuniary interests.

They have shown themselves willing to sink all partisan preferences in

order to prevent their trade being extinguished, and they have attempted

to save themselves by securing control of the political machinery. They

have too largely succeeded. America, in spite of its unceasing boasts of

liberty, is especially the land where the few dominate over the many. In

industry, the rings and monopolies rule; in politics, the "bosses" are

supreme. The people are allowed to retain in their hands all the

paraphernalia of political authority; but in many parts they are ruled by

autocratic political organisations, with saloon keepers and plunderers of

the public at their head.

It would not be just to pronounce the same sweeping condemnation on

politicians in all parts of the Union alike. In most country parts and in

some cities the government is all that could be desired; and, usually, the

more native-born Americans and English and Scottish settlers there are,

the more free are the officials from corruption. But in many cities the

administration is absolutely rotten: the courts dole out injustice, the

municipal officers solely study their own interests, and obtain office for

the one purpose of dishonestly acquiring public money; laws are enforced

or set at defiance as may be most profitable; and perjury and plunder are

the every-day business of mayors, aldermen, policemen, and justices alike.

The plunderers are elected to office mainly by the saloon vote, a large

proportion are or have been drink sellers themselves, and for these things

the saloons are largely responsible. It is the realisation of this that

has induced many men, by no means ardent abstainers, to advocate

prohibition, not so much because it prevents intemperance, but because it

breaks the power of the saloon in politics.

The source of the power of the saloon lies mainly in three things: (1) The

absorption of respectable citizens in their private concerns, and their

indifference to politics; (2) the political machines; (3) manhood

suffrage.

On the first cause but little need be said. In America the race for

wealth is keener than anywhere else; the almighty dollar is worshipped,

and most men are in a hurry to make their piles before the end of next

week. A large proportion of the business men allow themselves time for

nothing but money making, and those who have leisure regard politics as

disreputable. In England our best citizens are glad to serve the

commonwealth at their own cost; in America, a rich and cultured man would

in many cities be looked upon by his friends as either a crank or a

boodler if he announced his intention of adopting a political career.

On the subject of manhood suffrage generally and its desirability or

otherwise, I have no intention of entering in this place. But coming to

the result of manhood suffrage on American politics, few can doubt that it

has exercised in some ways a most evil effect. If all the citizens to whom

the ballot has been given were intelligent and educated, and knew anything

of the politics of the country which they are helping to rule, then

suffrage would be robbed of much of its evil effects. But at present the

peasant who has been picked from the wilds of Connemara, the lazzaroni

from Naples and Rome, the offscourings of the slums of the cities of

Central Europe, are able to out-vote in many towns the genuine Americans.

They are brought under the influence of ambitious and unscrupulous

political organisers almost as soon as they land at New York, and too

often their ballot papers are cast solid for the maintenance of fraud,

falsehood and robbery.

The results of machine voting, the rule of the "bosses" and saloon

politics can perhaps best be seen in one well-known instance. The city of

New York, the metropolis of America, has actually been controlled for some

years, not by its inhabitants, but by an ex-drink seller, Richard Croker,

and his subordinates. This man was originally a young rough, in due course

he developed into a saloon keeper, and after a time he resigned his bar

for the more profitable employment of politician. He now holds no office

under Government, he has no ostensible means of earning a living; yet he

is able to maintain a magnificent country mansion and a town palace; he

owns as fine a team of trotting horses as most men in the State; and he is

well known to be enormously wealthy. His horses are said to be worth

seventy-four thousand dollars, and he owns a half interest in a stud farm

valued at a quarter of a million. When he travels the railway companies

provide specially luxuriant cars for his special accommodation, and he

receives such homage and abject worship as exceed the subservience shown

by the poorest-spirited courtiers to any petty princeling. Over his

long-distance telephone he controls local politicians and the State

Legislature, and he can wreck Bills or bring them into law almost as he

pleases.

The secret of Croker's power is the fact that he is the head of Tammany

Hall, the most powerful political machine in the Union. Under this body,

New York is mapped out into about eleven hundred electoral districts,

each containing a few hundred voters, with a "captain," who is usually a

saloon keeper, over each. It is the duty of the "captain" to get as many

people as possible in his district to join Tammany, and to vote on the

Tammany ticket; and woe to him if he lets the Hall lose power there! He

has innumerable methods of attracting voters to himself. Any man who has a

little local influence is instantly noticed, and has tempting visions of

place and power held out before him if he will only consent to throw his

lot in with the party. The Tammanyite who is in trouble with the police

knows that he can obtain the friendly services of the "captain" to speak a

kind word for him to the justice; and it is wonderful how far these kind

words go with the politically-appointed justices. The Tammanyite who is

out of work will naturally look to the "captain" to help him to something,

whether it is a clerkship in the municipal offices, a street-sweepership,

or a higher and better paid post. The "captain" may or may not be paid

openly for his services; but he receives plenty of either direct or

indirect emolument. If he is a saloon keeper, numbers of people naturally

flock about his place, and deal of him. He is a man of weight, to be

respected as such!

No party organisation like this could be held together without powerful

motive forces. To some of the Tammany "captains" need not be denied purity

and honesty of aims; but it is to be feared that such are in the

minority. Tammany as it is conducted to-day rests on bribery, swindling

and corruption. Those whom it can buy, and who are worth buying, it buys,

whether they are senators or street-sweepers; those who are not to be

bought, it often terrifies into passiveness. If a public-spirited citizen

shows himself inclined to kick hard against his lawful rulers, and if he

is a person who can be safely annoyed, then the municipality lets him feel

the weight of its wrath. It does not use the old-time methods of casting

him into prison, cutting off his head, or the like; for such crude

expedients might attract an unpleasant amount of public attention. The

recalcitrant citizen to-day has the assessment of his property for the

purpose of taxation increased to perhaps double its former amount; city

officials suddenly discover that his house transgresses some local

ordinance, and order him to make costly structural alterations. If he is a

saloon keeper the power of the "boss" over him is almost unlimited, and

the unlucky wight can be hauled up before the justices almost every week,

and fined or imprisoned continually. Hence few saloon keepers dare to

offend. There are a thousand and one ways in which Tammany can punish its

opponents.

But if Tammany is cruel to its foes, it can be very kind to its friends.

The happy man who does it service finds money, place, and power waiting

him. The saloon keeper can defy the Sunday closing law with impunity, and

the business man has his house assessed very moderately. The young fellow

of talent who throws his lot in with the party knows that in due course

(when he has earned his reward) he can be almost certain of a comfortable

competence in a municipal or Government post. Tammany has no less than

twenty-seven thousand rewards, in the shape of municipal offices, to

distribute among its friends.

On first hearing of these things it seems inexplicable to an Englishman

why the honest people of the American metropolis do not rise up and

destroy such an institution. The reasons are manifold. It must be

remembered that even Tammany is not all bad. Among those who blindly

follow its ticket are many who believe that they show their patriotism by

doing so. The "boss" is backed by a political party; he is a Democrat, and

many upright Democrats think that this fact alone compels them to throw

all their influence on the side of the man who carries their party

colours. Moreover any party of reform has to reckon with the thirty

thousand votes of the city drink sellers and their men, which are cast

solid for Tammany so long as it helps them. Without the saloon and its

help, Tammany would not keep together for twelve months; but with its

influence on its side, it is no easy task to overcome it. To-day the

churches are struggling, the newspapers are denouncing, leagues and

societies are being formed against the common enemy; yet Tammany still

rules. Last autumn a majority was elected to the State Legislature against

Croker's party, and it was confidently expected that at last its power

would be curtailed. By the peculiar system of controlling New York city,

the State Legislature has considerable power of interfering with its

affairs. Accordingly, this year measures have been brought forward that

would have done great damage to Croker's friends. But even this session

sufficient senators have been found willing to break through their solemn

electoral pledges, to vote against their own party, and to wreck Bill

after Bill directed against the municipal ring. The Tammany men openly

proclaim that they can kill every other reform in the same way. No secret

is made of the reason for the senators' change of face. It is openly said

in conversation, and plainly printed in the papers, that they were bribed

by Croker's agents.

It may be asked where Croker and his men get the necessary money from to

carry on their work. The answer lies in one word--blackmail! Business men

are politely requested to contribute to the funds of the Hall, and if they

refuse they are looked upon as enemies, and treated accordingly. Every man

who is allowed to break the law, whether he is a saloon keeper who keeps a

side door open on Sunday, the owner of a gambling hell, or a more

respectable sinner, is expected to allow a solid cash consideration for

the privilege. If any one or any corporation wants a favour of the local

authorities, the only way of obtaining it is to grease the itching palms

of the aldermen, and to make friends with the politicians. Even those who

want perfectly legitimate permits granted to them from the city can only

get what they need by paying heavily for them. "All the laws good and

bad," said Mr. Kelly of New York recently, "are so misexecuted by Tammany

as to give it a clutch upon business men and especially the liquor

dealers.... The power of the ring seems to depend upon its power to play

upon the hopes and fears of our citizens."

The result of Tammany rule on New York city has been indescribably bad.

Notorious law-breakers have been appointed to the most responsible posts,

either because they had done some service to Tammany, or because they were

willing to pay the highest price for the appointments. Justices have been

put in office, not because of their learning or integrity, but because

they are willing to twist the laws to suit Tammany. Even the electoral

returns have been fraudulently altered to place the nominees of the Hall

in office.

It is impossible in one short chapter to give any elaborate details of the

extent to which corruption prevails in American cities; but enough has

been said to show that the conditions under which temperance reformers

have to work there are very different to those that prevail at home. The

difficulties are greater, the means for enforcement are less effective,

and the powers of lawlessness are more potent.

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