Popular misgovernment in the United States

by Alfred Byron Cruikshank

Bryce thus sketches the ward politician:

“As there are weeds that follow human dwellings, so this species thrives best in cities, and even in the most crowded parts of cities. It is known to the Americans as the ‘ward politician,’ because the city ward is the chief sphere of its activity, and the ward meeting the first scene of its exploits. A statesman of this type usually begins as a saloon or barkeeper, an occupation which enables him to form a large circle of acquaintances, especially among the ‘loafer’ class who have votes but no reason for using them one way more than another, and whose interest in political issues is therefore as limited as their stock of political knowledge. But he may have started as a lawyer of the lowest kind, or lodging-house keeper, or have taken to politics after failure in store-keeping. The education of this class is only that of the elementary schools; if they have come after boyhood from Europe, it is not even that. They have of course no comprehension of political questions or zeal for political principles; politics mean to them merely a scramble for places or jobs. They are usually vulgar, sometimes brutal, not so often criminal, or at least the associates of criminals. They it is who move about the populous quarters of the great cities, form groups through whom they can reach and control the ignorant voter, pack meetings with their creatures.” ...

“In the smaller cities and in the country generally, the minor politicians are mostly native Americans, less ignorant and more respectable than these last-mentioned street vultures. The bar-keeping element is represented among them, but the bulk are petty lawyers, officials, Federal as well as State and county, and people who for want of a better occupation have turned office-seekers, with a fair sprinkling of store-keepers, farmers, and newspaper men.” ...

“These two classes do the local work and dirty work of politics. They are the rank and file. Above them stand the officers in the political army, the party managers, including the members of Congress and chief men in the State legislatures, and the editors of influential newspapers. Some of these have pushed their way up from the humbler ranks. Others are men of superior ability and education, often college graduates, lawyers who have had practice, less frequently merchants or manufacturers who have slipped into politics from business. There are all sorts among them, creatures clean and unclean, as in the sheet of St. Peter’s vision, but that one may say of politicians in all countries.” (American Commonwealth, Vol. II, pp. 63, 64, 65.)

The political leaders, says Eaton, endeavor to bring “every form of human depravity, imbecility and ignorance to the polls. They and their minions search the garrets and the cellars, the prisons and the asylums, the grog shops and the poor houses; they lead and hustle to the ballot boxes the vilest specimens of humanity which can be made to cast a vote” (Government of Municipalities, p. 122), and he adds that some of these leaders are public officials, some have even been on the bench of justice as police magistrates. Here is a sketch of a New York district leader, veracious though imaginary, from the facile pen of O. Henry (The Social Triangle).

“Billy McMahan was the district leader. Upon him the Tiger purred, and his hand held manna to scatter. Now, as Ikey entered (the bar room) McMahan stood, flushed and triumphant and mighty, the center of a huzzaing concourse of his lieutenants and constituents. It seems there had been an election; a signal victory had been won; the city had been swept back into line by a resistless besom of ballots. How magnificent was Billy McMahan, with his great smooth laughing face; his gray eye shrewd as a chicken hawk’s; his diamond ring; his voice like a bugle call; his prince’s air; his plump and active roll of money; his clarion call to friend and comrade—oh, what a king of men he was! How he obscured his lieutenants, though they themselves loomed large and serious, blue of chin and important of mien, with hands buried deep in the pockets of their short overcoats.”

Besides the immediate lieutenants of the boss there are in the cities gangs of “heelers” formed by the political organizations who, as said by Ostrogorski, constitute a latent political force under the management of henchmen. They are described by him as ignorant, brutal, averse to regular work, mostly recruited from the criminal or semi-criminal classes, from among frequenters of drinking saloons and from failures and loafers of every description. When the elections come around they furnish compact bands of “floaters” or “repeaters” as they are often called, ready, for a consideration, to vote early and as often as permitted. Professor Woodburn of Indiana University writing in 1903, says that:

“A politician has come to mean one devoted not to the science and art of government, but to the success of a political party; a party worker who devotes himself to the art of making nominations and carrying elections; one who manages caucuses, committees and conventions, by which the party business and the party machinery are carried on. It is because the people have consented to turn over their parties and their party government to this self constituted class of party managers that they have come under the control of rings and bosses.” (Political Parties and Party Problems, p. 360.)

He describes a political ring as a group of these professional politicians who live by politics, bound together for mutual support in pursuit of offices, public patronage, contracts and other pecuniary opportunities, and generally unscrupulous in their methods. The leader of the ring is the boss, who usually does not hold office but controls the offices from outside, by backstairs influence.

This from Professor Hyslop: