The Boss, and How He Came to Rule New York

Morton was so much his old practical self that he bade me consider a candidate and a programme.

“Let us nominate my old gentleman for mayor,” said he. “He’s very old; but he’s clean and he’s strong, don’t y’ know. Really he would draw every vote to his name that should of right belong to us.”

“That might be,” I returned; “but I may tell you, and stay within the truth, that if your father got no more votes than should of right be his, defeat would overtake him to the tune of thousands. Add the machine to the mugwumps, and this movement of labor still has us beaten by twenty thousand men. That being the case, why should I march Tammany – and my own fortune, too – into such a trap?”

“What else can you do?” asked Morton.

“I can tell you what was in my mind,” said I. “It was to go with this labor movement and control it.”

“That labor fellow they’ve put up would make the worst of mayors. You and Tammany would forever be taunted with the errors of his administration. Besides, the creature’s success would vulgarize the town; it would, really!”

“He is an honest man,” said I.

“Honest, yes; but what of that? Honesty is the commonest trait of ignorance. There should be something more than honesty, don’t y’ know, to make a mayor. There be games like draw poker and government where to be merely honest is not a complete equipment. Besides, think of the shock of such a term of hobnails in the City Hall. If you, with your machine, would come in, we could elect my old gentleman over him or any other merely honest candidate whom those vulgarians could put up; we could, really!”

“Tell me how,” said I.

“There would be millions of money,” lisped Morton, pausing to select a cigarette; “since Money would be swimming for dear life. All our fellows at the club are scared to death – really! One can do anything with money, don’t y’ know.”

“One can’t stop a runaway horse with money,” I retorted; “and this labor movement is a political runaway.”

“With money we could build a wall across its course and let those idiots of politics run against it. My dear fellow, let us make a calculation. Really, how many votes should those labor animals overrun us, on the situation’s merits?”

“Say twenty-five thousand.”

“This then should give so experienced a hand as yourself some shade of comfort. The Master of the Philadelphia Machine, don’t y’ know, is one of my railway partners. ‘Old chap,’ said he, when I told him of the doings of our New York vandals, ‘I’ll send over to you ten thousand men, any one of whom would loot a convent. These common beggars must be put down! The example might spread to Philadelphia.’ So you see,” concluded Morton, “we would not be wanting in election material. What should ten thousand men mean?”

“At the least,” said I, “they should count for forty thousand. A man votes with a full beard; then he votes with his chin shaved; then he shaves the sides of his face and votes with a mustache; lastly he votes with a smooth face and retires to re-grow a beard against the next campaign. Ten thousand men should tally forty thousand votes. Registration and all, however, would run the cost of such an enterprise to full five hundred thousand dollars.”

“Money is no object,” returned Morton, covering a yawn delicately with his slim hand, “to men who feel that their fortunes, don’t y’ know, and perhaps their lives, are on the cast. Bring us Tammany for this one war, and I’ll guarantee three millions in the till of the machine; I will, really! You would have to take those ten thousand recruits from Philadelphia into your own hands, however; we Silk Stockings don’t own the finesse required to handle such a consignment of goods. Besides, if we did, think what wretched form it would be.”

To hide what was in my thought, I made a pretense of considering the business in every one of its angles. There was a minute during which neither of us spoke.

“Why should I put the machine,” I asked at last, “in unnecessary peril of the law? This should be a campaign of fire. Every stick of those three millions you speak of would go to stoke the furnaces. I will do as well, and win more surely, with the labor people.”

“But do you want to put the mob in possession?” demanded Morton, emerging a bit from his dandyisms. “I’m no purist of politics; indeed, I think I’m rather practical than otherwise, don’t y’ know. I am free to say, however, that I fear a worst result should those savages of a dinner-can and a dollar-a-day, succeed – really! You should think once in a while, and particularly in a beastly squall like the present, of the City itself.”

“Should I?” I returned. “Now I’ll let you into an organization tenet. Tammany, blow high, blow low, thinks only of itself.”

“You would be given half the offices, remember.”

“And the Police?”

“And the Police.”

“Tammany couldn’t keep house without the police,” said I, laughing. “You’ve seen enough of our housekeeping to know that.”

“You may have the police, and what else you will.”

“Well,” said I, bringing the talk to a close, “I can’t give you an answer now. I must look the situation in the eyes. To be frank, I don’t think either the Tammany interest or my own runs with yours in this. I, with my people, live at the other end of the lane.”

While Morton and I were talking, I had come to a decision. I would name the reputable old gentleman for mayor. He was stricken of years; but I bethought me how for that very reason he might be, when elected, the easier to deal with. But I would keep my resolve from Morton. There was no stress of hurry; the election was months away. I might see reason to change. One should ever put off his contract-making until the last. Besides, Morton would feel the better for a surprise.

Before I went to an open alliance with the mugwumps, I would weaken the labor people. This I might do by pretending to be their friend. There was a strip of the labor candidate’s support which was rabid anti-Tammany. Let me but seem to come to his comfort and aid, and every one of those would desert him.

Within the week after my talk with Morton, I sent a sly scrap of news to the captains of labor. They were told that I had given utterance to sentiments of friendship for them and their man. Their taste to cultivate my support was set on edge. These amateurs of politics came seeking an interview. I flattered their hopes, and spoke in high terms of their candidate, his worth and honesty. The city could not be in safer hands.

There were many interviews. It was as an experience, not without a side to amuse, since my visitors, while as pompous as turkey cocks, were as innocently shallow as so many sheep. Many times did we talk; and I gave them compliments and no promises.

My ends were attained. The papers filled up with the coming partnership between the labor movement and the machine, and those berserks of anti-Tammany, frothing with resentment against ones who would sell themselves into my power as the price of my support, abandoned the laborites in a body. There were no fewer than five thousand of these to shake the dust of labor from their feet. When I had driven the last of them from the labor champion, by the simple expedient of appearing to be his friend, I turned decisively my back on him. Also, I at once called Tammany Convention – being the first in the field – and issued those orders which named the reputable old gentleman.

There arose a roar and a cheer from my followers at this, for they read in that name a promise of money knee-deep; and what, than that word, should more brighten a Tammany eye! I was first, with the machine at my back, to walk upon the field with our reputable old gentleman. The mugwumps followed, adopting him with all dispatch; the Republicans, proper, made no ticket; two or three straggling cliques and split-offs of party accepted the reputable old gentleman’s nomination; and so the lines were made. On the heels of the conventions, the mugwump leaders and I met and merged our tickets, I getting two-thirds and surrendering one-third of those names which followed that of the reputable old gentleman for the divers offices to be filled.

When all was accomplished, the new situation offered a broad foundation, and one of solvency and depth, whereon to base a future for both Tammany and myself. It crystallized my power, and my grip on the machine was set fast and hard by the sheer effect of it. The next thing was to win at the polls; that would ask for studied effort and a quickness that must not sleep, for the opposition, while clumsy, straggling, and unwieldly with no skill, overtopped us in strength by every one of those thousands of which I had given Morton the name.

“Really, you meant it should be a surprise,” observed Morton, as he grasped my hand. It was the evening of the day on which the Tammany Convention named the reputable old gentleman. “I’ll plead guilty; it was a surprise. And that’s saying a great deal, don’t y’ know. To be surprised is bad form, and naturally I guard myself against such a vulgar calamity. But you had me, old chap! I was never more baffled and beaten than when I left you. I regarded the conquest of the City by those barbarians as the thing made sure. Now all is changed. We will go in and win; and not a word I said, don’t y’ know, shall be forgotten and every dollar I mentioned shall be laid down. It shall, ’pon honor!”

CHAPTER XVII – THE REPUTABLE OLD GENTLEMAN IS MAYOR

THE Philadelphia machine was a training school for repeaters. Those ten thousand sent to our cause by Morton’s friend, went about their work like artillerymen about their guns. Each was good for four votes. As one of the squad captains said:

“There’s got to be time between, for a party to change his face an’ shift to another coat an’ hat. Besides, it’s as well to give th’ judges an hour or two to get dim to your mug, see!”

Big Kennedy had set his foot upon the gang spirit, and stamped out of existence such coteries as the Tin Whistles and the Alley Gang, and I copied Big Kennedy in this. Such organizations would have been a threat to me, and put it more in reach of individual leaders to rebel against an order. What work had been done by the gangs was now, under a better discipline and with machine lines more tightly drawn, transacted by the police.

When those skillful gentry, meant to multiply a ballot-total, came in from the South, I called my Chief of Police into council. He was that same bluff girthy personage who, aforetime, had conferred with Big Kennedy. I told him what was required, and how his men, should occasion arise, must foster as far as lay with them the voting purposes of our colonists.

“You can rely on me, Gov’nor,” said the Chief. He had invented this title for Big Kennedy, and now transferred it to me. “Yes, indeed, you can go to sleep on me doin’ my part. But I’m bothered to a standstill with my captains. Durin’ th’ last four or five years, th’ force has become honeycombed with honesty; an’, may I be struck! if some of them square guys aint got to be captains.”

“Should any get in your way,” said I, “he must be sent to the outskirts. I shall hold you for everything that goes wrong.”

“I guess,” said the Chief thoughtfully, “I’ll put the whole racket in charge of Gothecore. He’ll keep your emigrants from Philadelphia walkin’ a crack. They’ll be right, while Gothecore’s got his peeps on ‘em.”

“Has Gothecore had experience?”

“Is Bill Gothecore wise? Gov’nor, I don’t want to paint a promise so brilliant I can’t make good, but Gothecore is th’ most thorough workman on our list. Why, they call him ‘Clean Sweep Bill!’ I put him in th’ Tenderloin for six months, an’ he got away with everything but th’ back fence.”

“Very well,” said I, “the care of these colonists is in your hands. Here’s a list of the places where they’re berthed.”

“You needn’t give ‘em another thought, Gov’nor,” observed the Chief. Then, as he arose to depart: “Somethin’s got to be done about them captains turnin’ square. They act as a scare to th’ others. I’ll tell you what: Make the price of a captaincy twenty thousand dollars. That’ll be a hurdle no honest man can take. Whoever pays it, we can bet on as a member of our tribe. One honest captain queers a whole force; it’s like a horse goin’ lame.” This last, moodily.

In the eleventh hour, by our suggestion and at our cost, the Republican managers put up a ticket. This was made necessary by certain inveterate ones who would unite with nothing in which Tammany owned a part. As between us and the labor forces, they would have offered themselves to the latter. They must be given a ticket of their own whereon to waste themselves.

The campaign itself was a whirlwind of money. That princely fund promised by Morton was paid down to me on the nail, and I did not stint or save it when a chance opened to advance our power by its employment. I say “I did not stint,” because, in accord with Tammany custom, the fund was wholly in my hands.

As most men know, there is no such post as that of Chief of Tammany Hall. The office is by coinage, and the title by conference, of the public. There exists a finance committee of, commonly, a dozen names. It never meets, and the members in ordinary are ‘to hear and know no more about the money of the organization than of sheep-washing among Ettrick’s hills and vales. There is a chairman; into his hands all moneys come. These, in his care and name, and where and how and if he chooses, are put in bank. He keeps no books; he neither gives nor takes a scrap of paper, nor so much as writes a letter of thanks, in connection with such treasurership. He replies to no one for this money; he spends or keeps as he sees fit, and from beginning to end has the sole and only knowledge of either the intake or the outgo of the millions of the machine. The funds are wholly in his possession. To borrow a colloquialism, “He is the Man with the Money,” and since money is the mainspring of practical politics, it follows as the tail the kite, and without the intervention of either rule or statute, that he is The Boss. Being supreme with the money, he is supreme with the men of the machine, and it was the holding of this chairmanship which gave me my style and place as Chief.

The position is not wanting in its rewards. Tammany, for its own safety, should come forth from each campaign without a dollar. There is no argument to carry over a residue from one battle to the next. It is not required, since Tammany, from those great corporations whose taxes and liberties it may extend or shrink by a word, may ever have what money it will; and it is not wise, because the existence of a fund between campaigns would excite dissension, as this leader or that one conceived some plan for its dissipation. It is better to upturn the till on the back of each election, and empty it in favor of organization peace. And to do this is the duty of the Chairman of the Finance Committee; and I may add that it is one he was never known to overlook.