“There is scarcely a place on earth (says Breen) where one can see so fully the extremes of sycophancy to which human nature will descend as one does in a political convention in the City of New York.... I blush to record the fact that the convention which I attended (and the same may be said of every political convention in this city even at the present day) was composed of as spineless a lot of creatures as ever prostrated themselves before a throne, or crouched in the presence of autocratic power. Subserviency was shown not only to the local leader or deputy boss himself, but to the understrappers, who were supposed to have his ear. Not able to get into the immediate presence of the leader, persons well dressed and apparently prosperous, as well as those who were ill conditioned, fawned upon forbidding looking beings who were supposed to be close to the leader, and whose intelligence was limited to understanding orders and obeying them....
“Several positions connected with the court were at the disposal of the judge to be elected; the Democratic nomination was equivalent to the certificate of election. There were 177 delegates in all, and although many of them had the appearance of independent men, yet every one of them was there as an automaton to be set in motion and shifted hither and thither at the whim of the local boss. Free born citizens, though they were, with the sacred right of the ballot, they were there merely to register his will and obey his orders without question. Not only this, but they seemed to revel in their subserviency, and to feel joyous and even proud of the distinction of being political slaves. Nor was this degradation confined to the ignorant. Men of education, men who were members of the learned professions, were in that body, and vied with the worst in snivelling sycophancy. They knew, as every one knew, that the person who was to be nominated for a seat on the bench was wholly incompetent, in point of education and training, to fill the office, not to speak of other disqualifications. Yet they were there to obey pliantly the mandates of a deputy boss and stifle their conviction and their conscience.” (Thirty Years of New York Politics, pp. 205, 206, 207.)
Here you have a veracious picture made by an expert of the actual operation of manhood suffrage, which according to the twaddlers is so effective in stimulating the manly character of the citizens of a free republic.
Bryce visited one of these conventions, and this is what he saw:
“During the morning, a tremendous coming and going and chattering and clattering of crowds of men who looked at once sordid and flashy, faces shrewd but mean and sometimes brutal, vulgar figures in good coats forming into small groups and talking eagerly, and then dissolving to form fresh groups; a universal camaraderie, with no touch of friendship about it; something between a betting-ring and the flags outside the Liverpool Exchange. It reminded one of the swarming of bees in tree boughs, a ceaseless humming and buzzing which betokens immense excitement over proceedings which the bystander does not comprehend. After some hours all this settled down; the meeting was duly organized; speeches were made, all dull and thinly declamatory, except one by an eloquent Irishman; the candidates for State offices were proposed and carried by acclamation; and the business ended. Everything had evidently been pre-arranged; and the discontented, if any there were, had been talked over during the swarming hours.” (American Commonwealth, Vol. II, p. 105.)
The members of these nominating conventions, or “delegates,” as they are called, are supposed to be chosen by the voters at elections held for that purpose, called “primaries.” The vote at these primaries is never more than a fraction of those belonging to the party. It ranges from two per cent to ten per cent unless when there is a contest between two party men, when it may go as high as forty per cent of those entitled to vote. Outside of the party workers, scarcely anyone attends these primaries. Bryce sketches the means taken by the boss to control the primary election, which include trickery, fraud and violence. (American Commonwealth, Vol. II, pp. 102, 103.) He describes the workings of the primary system and the convention as in operation in Philadelphia under the management of the Gas Ring in 1881:
“The delegates chosen were usually office-holders, with a sprinkling of public works contractors, liquor-dealers, always a potent factor in ward politics, and office expectants. For instance, the Convention of 13th January, 1881, for nominating a candidate for mayor, consisted of 199 delegates, 86 of whom were connected with some branch of the city government, 9 were members of the city councils, 5 were police magistrates, 4 constables, and 23 policemen, while of the rest some were employed in some other city department, and some others were the known associates and dependants of the Ring. These delegates, assembled in convention of the party, duly went through the farce of selecting and voting for persons already determined on by the Ring as candidates for the chief offices. The persons so selected thereby became the authorized candidates of the party, for whom every good party man was expected to give his vote. Disgusted he might be to find a person unknown, or known only for evil, perhaps a fraudulent bankrupt, or a broken-down barkeeper, proposed for his acceptance. But as his only alternative was to vote for the Democratic nominee, who was probably no better, he submitted, and thus the party was forced to ratify the choice of the Boss.” (American Commonwealth, Vol. II, p. 408.)
The method adopted by the local boss in Breen’s time, to assure himself that every man in the convention would do his bidding, is worthy of admiration for its bold and unscrupulous impudence. He does this, says Breen, in advance of the primary election by making out a list of the delegates whom he desires chosen and obtaining from the inspectors a certificate that they have been duly elected. What occurs thereafter at the primary election is of little consequence as the credentials are already in the possession of the leader, who when the convention meets draws them from his pocket and as there is no going behind the returns the delegates take their seats. Times and laws have changed since Breen’s time and this plan may have been superseded by another, at present not generally known, but the Boss and Machine are still with us as powerful as ever; the class of officials they put over us is the same as before, there is the same material to work with and it is presumable that the present system is equally corrupt and tyrannical with the old one.
A large part of the fuel to keep the machine going is provided for by voluntary contributions from business men and corporations desirous of political favors, such as street privileges, franchises, contracts, or is levied as blackmail upon them or upon saloon keepers, gamblers, keepers of brothels and others whose habits or occupations leave them open to police persecution; also by assessments on office holders, candidates for office and levies on corporations sometimes called “strikes.”