William L. Riordon
Plunkitt of Tammany Hall
(1905)
Excerpts from the Original Electronic Text at the Project Gutenberg.
Plunkitt of Tammany Hall A Series of Very Plain
Talks on Very Practical Politics, Delivered by Ex-senator
George Washington Plunkitt, the Tammany Philosopher, from
His Rostrum-the New York County Court House Bootblack Stand
Recorded by William L. Riordon
THIS volume discloses the mental operations of perhaps the most
thoroughly practical politician of the day-George Washington
Plunkitt, Tammany leader of the Fifteenth Assembly District,
Sachem of the Tammany Society and Chairman of the Elections
Committee of Tammany Hall, who has held the offices of State
Senator, Assemblyman', Police Magistrate, County Supervisor and
Alderman, and who boasts of his record in filling four public
offices in one year and drawing salaries from three of them at the
same time.
The discourses that follow were delivered by him from his
rostrum, the bootblack stand in the County Court-house, at various
times in the last half-dozen years. Their absolute frankness and
vigorous unconventionality of thought and expression charmed
me. Plunkitt said right Out what all practical politicians think but
are afraid to say. Some of the discourses I published as interviews
in the New York Evening Post, the New York Sun, the New York
World, and the Boston Transcript. They were reproduced in
newspapers throughout the country and several of them, notably
the talks on "The Curse of Civil Service Reform" and "Honest
Graft and Dishonest Graft," became subjects of discussion in the
United States Senate and in college lectures. There seemed to be a
general recognition of Plunkitt as a striking type of the
practical politician, a politician, moreover, who dared to say
publicly what others in his class whisper among them-selves in the
City Hall corridors and the hotel lobbies.
I thought it a pity to let Plunkitt's revelations of himself-as frank in
their way as Rousseau's Confessions-perish in the files of the
newspapers; so I collected the talks I had published, added several
new ones, and now give to the world in this volume a system of
political philosophy which is as unique as it is refreshing.
No New Yorker needs to he informed who George Washington
Plunkitt is. For the information of others, the following sketch of
his career is given. He was born, as he proudly tells, in Central
Park-that is, in the territory now included in the park. He began
life as a driver of a cart, then became a butcher's boy, and later
went into the butcher business for himself. How he entered politics
he explains in one of his discourses. His advancement was rapid.
He was in the Assembly soon after he cast his first vote and has
held office most of the time for forty years.
In 1870, through a strange combination of circumstances, he held
the places of Assemblyman, Alderman, Police Magistrate and
County Supervisor and drew three salaries at once-a record
unexampled in New York politics.
Plunkitt is now a millionaire. He owes his fortune mainly to his
political pull, as he confesses in "Honest Graft and Dishonest
Graft." He is in the contracting, transportation, real estate, and
every other business out of which he can make money. He has no
office. His headquarters is the County Courthouse bootblack stand.
There he receives his constituents, transacts his general business
and pours forth his philosophy.
Plunkitt has been one of the great powers in Tammany Hall for a
quarter of a century. While he was in the Assembly and the State
Senate he was one of the most influential members and introduced
the bills that provided for the outlying parks of New York City,
the Harlem River Speedway, the Washington Bridge, the 155th Street
Viaduct, the grading of Eighth Avenue north of Fifty-seventh Street,
additions to the Museum of Natural History, the West Side Court,
and many other important public improvements. He is one of the
closest friends and most valued advisers of Charles F. Murphy,
leader of Tammany Hall.
WILLIAM L. Riordon
EVERYBODY is talkin' these days about Tammany men growin'
rich on graft, but nobody thinks of drawin' the
distinction between honest graft and dishonest graft.
There's all the difference in the world between the two. Yes, many
of our men have grown rich in politics. I have myself. I've made a
big fortune out of the game, and I'm gettin' richer every day, but
I've not gone in for dishonest graft-blackmailin' gamblers,
saloonkeepers, disorderly people, etc.-and neither has any of the
men who have made big fortunes in politics.
There's an honest graft, and I'm an example of how it works. I
might sum up the whole thing by sayin': "I seen my opportunities
and I took 'em."
Just let me explain by examples. My party's in power in the city,
and it's goin' to undertake a lot of public improvements. Well, I'm
tipped off, say, that they're going to lay out a new park at a certain
place.
I see my opportunity and I take it. I go to that place and I buy up
all the land I can in the neighborhood. Then the board of this or
that makes its plan public, and there is a rush to get my land,
which nobody cared particular for before.
Ain't it perfectly honest to charge a good price and make a profit
on my investment and foresight? Of course, it is. Well, that's
honest graft.
Or supposin' it's a new bridge they're goin' to build. I get tipped off
and I buy as much property as I can that has to be taken for
approaches. I sell at my own price later on and drop some more
money in the bank.
Wouldn't you? It's just like lookin' ahead in Wall Street or in the
coffee or cotton market. It's honest graft, and I'm lookin' for it
every day in the year. I will tell you frankly that I've got a good lot
of it, too.
I'll tell you of one case. They were goin' to fix up a big park, no
matter where. I got on to it, and went lookin' about for land in that
neighborhood.
I could get nothin' at a bargain but a big piece of swamp, but I took
it fast enough and held on to it. What turned out was just what I
counted on. They couldn't make the park complete without
Plunkitt's swamp, and they had to pay a good price for it. Anything
dishonest in that?
Up in the watershed I made some money, too. I bought up several
bits of land there some years ago and made a pretty good guess
that they would be bought up for water purposes later by the city.
Somehow, I always guessed about right, and shouldn't I enjoy the
profit of my foresight? It was rather amusin' when the
condemnation commissioners came along and found piece after
piece of the land in the name of George Plunkitt of the Fifteenth
Assembly District, New York City. They wondered how I knew
just what to buy. The answer is-I seen my opportunity and I took it.
I haven't confined myself to land; anything that pays is in my line.
For instance, the city is repavin' a street and has several hundred
thousand old granite blocks to sell. I am on hand to buy, and I
know just what they are worth.
How? Never mind that. I had a sort of monopoly of this business
for a while, but once a newspaper tried to do me. It got some
outside men to come over from Brooklyn and New Jersey to bid
against me.
Was I done? Not much. I went to each of the men and said: "How
many of these 250,000 stories do you want?" One said 20,000, and
another wanted 15,000, and other wanted 10,000. I said: "All right,
let me bid for the lot, and I'll give each of you all you want for
nothin'."
They agreed, of course. Then the auctioneer yelled:
"How much am I bid for these 250,000 fine pavin' stones?"
"Two dollars and fifty cents," says I.
"Two dollars and fifty cents!" screamed the auctioneer. "Oh, that's
a joke! Give me a real bid."
He found the bid was real enough. My rivals stood silent. I got the
lot for $2.50 and gave them their share. That's how the attempt to
do Plunkitt ended, and that's how all such attempts end.
I've told you how I got rich by honest graft. Now, let me tell you
that most politicians who are accused of robbin' the city get rich
the same way.
They didn't steal a dollar from the city treasury. They just seen
their opportunities and took them. That is why, when a reform
administration comes in and spends a half million dollars in tryin'
to find the public robberies they talked about in the campaign, they
don't find them.
The books are always all right. The money in the city treasury is
all right. Everything is all right. All they can show is that the
Tammany heads of departments looked after their friends, within
the law, and gave them what opportunities they could to make
honest graft. Now, let me tell you that's never goin' to hurt
Tammany with the people. Every good man looks after his friends,
and any man who doesn't isn't likely to be popular. If I have a good
thing to hand out in private life, I give it to a friend-Why shouldn't
I do the same in public life?
Another kind of honest graft. Tammany has raised a good many
salaries. There was an awful howl by the reformers, but don't you
know that Tammany gains ten votes for every one it lost by salary
raisin'?
The Wall Street banker thinks it shameful to raise a department
clerk's salary from $1500 to $1800 a year, but every man who
draws a salary himself says: "That's all right. I wish it was me."
And he feels very much like votin' the Tammany ticket on election
day, just out of sympathy.
Tammany was beat in 1901 because the people were deceived into
believin' that it worked dishonest graft. They didn't draw a
distinction between dishonest and honest graft, but they saw that
some Tammany men grew rich, and supposed they had been
robbin' the city treasury or levyin' blackmail on disorderly houses,
or workin' in with the gamblers and lawbreakers.
As a matter of policy, if nothing else, why should the Tammany
leaders go into such dirty business, when there is so much honest
graft lyin' around when they are in power? Did you ever consider
that?
Now, in conclusion, I want to say that I don't own a dishonest
dollar. If my worst enemy was given the job of writin' my epitaph
when I'm gone, he couldn't do more than write:
"George W. Plunkitt. He Seen His Opportunities, and He Took
'Em."
THERE'S thousands of young men in this city who will go to the
polls for the first time next November. Among them will be many
who have watched the careers of successful men in politics, and
who are longin' to make names and fortunes for themselves at the
same game- It is to these youths that I want to give advice. First,
let me say that I am in a position to give what the courts call expert
testimony on the subject. I don't think you can easily find a better
example than I am of success in politics. After forty years'
experience at the game I am-well, I'm George Washington
Plunkitt. Everybody knows what figure I cut in the greatest
organization on earth, and if you hear people say that I've laid
away a million or so since I was a butcher's boy in Washington
Market, don't come to me for an indignant denial I'm pretty
comfortable, thank you.
Now, havin' qualified as an expert, as the lawyers say, I am goin' to
give advice free to the young men who are goin' to cast their first
votes, and who are lookin' forward to political glory and lots of
cash. Some young men think they can learn how to be successful
in politics from books, and they cram their heads with all sorts of
college rot. They couldn't make a bigger mistake. Now, understand
me I ain't sayin' nothin' against colleges. I guess they'll have to
exist as long as there's book-worms, and I suppose they do some
good in a certain way, but they don't count in politics. In fact, a
young man who has gone through the college course is
handicapped at the outset. He may succeed in politics, but the
chances are 100 to 1 against him.
Another mistake: some young men think that the best way to
prepare for the political game is to practice speakin' and becomin'
orators. That's all wrong. We've got some orators in Tammany
Hall, but they're chiefly ornamental. You never heard of Charlie
Murphy delivering a speech, did you? Or Richard Croker, or John
Kelly, or any other man who has been a real power in the
organization? Look at the thirty-six district leaders of Tammany
Hall today. How many of them travel on their tongues? Maybe one
or two, and they don't count when business is doin' at Tammany
Hall. The men who rule have practiced keepin' their tongues still,
not exercisin' them. So you want to drop the orator idea unless you
mean to go into politics just to perform the skyrocket act.
Now, I've told you what not to do; I guess I can explain best what
to do to succeed in politics by tellin' you what I did. After goin'
through the apprenticeship of the business while I was a boy by
workin' around the district headquarters and hustlin' about the polls
on election day, I set out when I cast my first vote to win fame and
money in New York City politics. Did I offer my services to the
district leader as a stump-speaker? Not much. The woods are
always full of speakers. Did I get up a hook on municipal
government and show it to the leader? I wasn't such a fool. What I
did was to get some marketable goods before goin' to the leaders.
What do I mean by marketable goods? Let me tell you: I had a
cousin, a young man who didn't take any particular interest in
politics. I went to him and said: "Tommy, I'm goin' to be a
politician, and I want to get a followin'; can I count on you?" He
said: "Sure, George.', That's how I started in business. I got a
marketable commodity---one vote. Then I went to the district
leader and told him I could command two votes on election day,
Tommy's and my own. He smiled on me and told me to go ahead.
If I had offered him a speech or a bookful of learnin', he would
have said, "Oh, forget it!"
That was beginnin' business in a small way, wasn't it? But that is
the only way to become a real lastin' statesman. I soon branched
out. Two young men in the flat next to mine were school friends-I
went to them, just as I went to Tommy, and they agreed to stand by
me. Then I had a followin' of three voters and I began to get a bit
chesty. Whenever I dropped into district head-quarters, everybody
shook hands with me, and the leader one day honored me by
lightin' a match for my cigar. And so it went on like a snowball
rollin' down a hill I worked the flat-house that I lived in from the
basement to the top floor, and I got about a dozen young men to
follow me. Then I tackled the next house and so on down the block
and around the corner. Before long I had sixty men back of me,
and formed the George Washington Plunkitt Association.
What did the district leader say then when I called at headquarters?
I didn't have to call at headquarters. He came after me and said:
"George, what do you want? If you don't see what you want, ask
for it. Wouldn't you like to have a job or two in the departments for
your friends?" I said: "I'll think it over; I haven't yet decided what
the George Washington Plunkitt Association will do in the next
campaign." You ought to have seen how I was courted and petted
then by the leaders of the rival organizations I had marketable
goods and there was bids for them from all sides, and I was a risin'
man in politics. As time went on, and my association grew, I
thought I would like to go to the Assembly. 1 just had to hint at
what I wanted, and three different organizations offered me the
nomination. Afterwards, I went to the Board of Aldermen, then to
the State Senate, then became leader of the district, and so on up
and up till I became a statesman.
That is the way and the only way to' make a lastin' success in
politics. If you are goin' to cast your first vote next November and
want to go into politics, do as I did. Get a followin', if it's only one
man, and then go to the district leader and say: "I want to join the
organization. I've got one man who'll follow me through thick and
thin." The leader won't laugh at your one-man followin'. He'll
shake your hand warmly, offer to propose you for membership in
his club, take you down to the corner for a drink and ask you to
call again. But go to him and say: "I took first prize at college in
Aristotle; I can recite all Shakespeare forwards and backwards;
there ain't nothin' in science that ain't as familiar to me as
blockades on the elevated roads and I'm the real thing in the way
of silver-tongued orators." What will he answer? He'll probably
say: "I guess you are not to blame for your misfortunes, but we
have no use for you here."
This civil service law is the biggest fraud of the age. It is the curse
of the nation. There can't be no real patriotism while it lasts. How
are you goin' to interest our young men in their country if you have
no offices to give them when they work for their party? Just look at
things in this city today. There are ten thousand good offices, but
we can't get at more than a few hundred of them. How are we goin'
to provide for the thousands of men who worked for the Tammany
ticket? It can't be done. These men were full of patriotism a short
time ago. They expected to be servin' their city, but when we tell
them that we can't place them, do you think their patriotism is
goin' to last? Not much. They say: What's the use of workin' for
your country anyhow? There's nothin' in the game." And what can
they do? I don't know, but I'll tell you what I do know. I know
more than one young man in past years who worked for the ticket
and was just overflowin' with patriotism, but when he was knocked
out by the civil service humbug he got to hate his country and
became an Anarchist.
This ain't no exaggeration. I have good reason for sayin' that most
of the Anarchists in this city today are men who ran up against
civil service examinations. Isn't it enough to make a man sour on
his country when he wants to serve it and won't be allowed unless
he answers a lot of fool questions about the number of cubic
inches of water in the Atlantic and the quality of sand in the
Sahara desert? There was once a bright young man in my district
who tackled one of these examinations. The next I heard of him he
had settled down in Herr Most's saloon smokin' and drinkin' beer
and talkin' socialism all day. Before that time he had never drank
anything but whisky. I knew what was comm' when a young
Irishman drops whisky and takes to beer and long pipes in a
German saloon. That young man is today one of the wildest
Anarchists in town. And just to think! He might be a patriot but for
that cussed civil service.
Say, did you hear about that Civil Service Reform Association
kickin' because the tax commissioners want to put their fifty-five
deputies on the exempt list, and fire the outfit left to them by Low?
That's civil service for you. Just think! Fifty-five Republicans and
mugwumps holdin' $8OOO and $4OOO and $5000 jobs in the tax
department when 1555 good Tammany men are ready and willin'
to take their places! It's an outrage! What did the people mean
when they voted for Tammany? What is representative
government, anyhow? Is it all a fake that this is a government of
the people, by the people and for the people? If it isn't a fake, then
why isn't the people's voice obeyed and Tammany men put in all
the offices?
When the people elected Tammany, they knew just what they were
doin'. We didn't put up any false pretenses. We didn't go in for
humbug civil service and all that rot. We stood as we have always
stood, for reward-in' the men that won the victory. They call that
the spoils system. All right; Tammany is for the spoils system, and
when we go in we fire every anti-Tammany man from office that
can be fired under the law. It's an elastic sort of law and you can
bet it will be stretched to the limit Of course the Republican State
Civil Service Board will stand in the way of our local Civil Service
Commission all it can; but say! --suppose we carry the State
sometime, won't we fire the upstate Board all right? Or we'll make
it work in harmony with the local board, and that means that
Tammany will get everything in sight. I know that the civil service
humbug is stuck into the constitution, too, but, as Tim Campbell
said: What's the constitution among friends?"
Say, the people's voice is smothered by the cursed civil service
law; it is the root of all evil in our government. You hear of this
thing or that thing goin' wrong in the nation, the State or the city.
Look down beneath the surface and you can trace everything
wrong to civil service. I have studied the subject and I know. The
civil service humbug is underminin' our institutions and if a halt
ain't called soon this great republic will tumble down like a Park
Avenue house when they were buildin' the subway, and on its ruins
will rise another Russian government.
This is an awful serious proposition. Free silver and the tariff and
imperialism and the Panama Canal are triflin' issues when
compared to it. We could worry along without any of these things,
but civil service is sappin' the foundation of the whole shootin'
match. let me argue it out for you. I ain't up on sillygisms, but I can
give you some arguments that nobody can answer.
First, this great and glorious country was built up by political
parties; second, parties can't hold together if their workers don't get
the offices when they win; third, if the parties go to pieces, the
government they built up must go to pieces, too; fourth, then
there'll be h-to pay.
Could anything be clearer than that? Say, honest now; can you
answer that argument? Of course you won't deny that the
government was built up by the great parties. That's history, and
you can't go back of the returns. As to my second proposition, you
can't deny that either. When parties can't get offices, they'll bust.
They ain't far from the bustin' point now, with all this civil service
business keepin' most of the good things from them. How are you
goin' to keep up patriotism if this thing goes On? You can't do it.
let me tell you that patriotism has been dying out fast for the last
twenty years. Before then when a party won, its workers got
everything in sight. That was somethin' to make a man patriotic.
Now, when a party wins and its men come forward and ask for
their rewards, the reply is, "Nothin' doin', unless you can answer a
list of questions about Egyptian mummies and how many years it
will take for a bird to wear out a mass of iron as big as the earth by
steppin' on it once in a century?"
I have studied politics and men for forty-five years, and I see how
things are driftin'. Sad indeed is the change that has come over the
young men, even in my district, where I try to keep up the fire of
patriotism by gettin' a lot of jobs for my constituents, whether
Tam-many is in or out. The boys and men don't get excited any
more when they see a United States flag or hear "The
Star-Spangled Banner." They don't care no more for firecrackers
on the Fourth of July. And why should they? What is there in it for
them? They know that no matter how hard they work for their
country in a campaign, the jobs will go to fellows who can tell
about the mummies and the bird steppin' on the iron. Are you
surprised then that the young men of the country are beginnin' to
look coldly on the flag and don't care to put up a nickel for
firecrackers?
Accordin'
There's only one way to hold a district: you must study human.
nature and act accordin'. You can't study human nature in books.
Books is a hindrance more than anything else. If you have been to
college, so much the worse for you. You'll have to unlearn all you
learned before you can get right down-to human nature, and
unlearnin' takes a lot of time. Some men can never forget what
they learned at college. Such men may get to be district leaders by
a fluke, but they never last.
To learn real human nature you have to go among the people, see
them and be seen. .1 know every man, woman, and child in the
Fifteenth District, except them that's been born this summer-and I
know some of them, too. I know what they like and what they don't
like, what they are strong at and what they are weak in, and I reach
them by approachin' at the right side.
For instance, here's how I gather in the young men. I hear of a
young feller that's proud of his voice, thinks that he can sing fine. I
ask him to come around to Washington Hall and join our Glee
Club. He comes and sings, and he's a follower of Plunkitt for life.
Another young feller gains a reputation as a baseball player in a
vacant lot. I bring him into our baseball dub. That fixes him. You'll
find him workin' for my ticket at the polls next election day. Then
there's the feller that likes rowin' on the river, the young feller that
makes a name as a waltzer on his block, the young feller that's
handy with his dukes-I rope thern all in by givin' them
opportunities to show themselves off. I don't trouble them with
political arguments. I just study human nature and act accordin'.
But you may say this game won't work with the high-toned fellers,
the fellers that go through college and then join the Citizens'
Union. Of course it wouldn't work. I have a special treatment for
them. I ain't like the patent medicine man that gives the same
medicine for all diseases. The Citizens' Union kind of a young
man! I love him! He's the daintiest morsel of the lot, and he don't
often escape me.
Before telling you how I catch him, let me mention that before the
election last year, the Citizens' Union said they had four hundred
or five hundred enrolled voters in my district. They had a lovely
headquarters, too, beautiful roll-top desks and the cutest rugs in
the world. If I was accused of havin' contributed to fix up the nest
for them, I wouldn't deny it under oath. What do I mean by that?
Never mind. You can guess from the sequel, if you're sharp.
Well, election day came. The Citizens' Union's candidate for
Senator, who ran against me, just polled five votes in the district,
while I polled something more than 14,000 votes. What became of
the 400 or 500 Citizens' Union enrolled voters in my district?
Some people guessed that many of them were good Plunkitt men
all along and worked with the Cits just to bring them into the
Plunkitt camp by election day. You can guess that way, too, if you
want to. I never contradict stories about me, especially in hot
weather. I just call your attention to the fact that on last election
day 395 Citizens' Union enrolled voters in my district were missin'
and unaccounted for.
I tell you frankly, though, how I have captured some of the
Citizens' Union's young men. I have a plan that never fails. I watch
the City Record to see when there's civil service examinations for
good things. Then I take my young Cit in hand, tell him all about
the good thing and get him worked up till he goes and takes an
examination. I don't bother about him any more. It's a cinch that he
comes back to me in a few days and asks to join Tammany Hall.
Come over to Washington Hall some night and I'll show you a list
of names on our roll' marked "C.S." which means, "bucked up
against civil service."
As to the older voters, I reach them, too. No, I don't send them
campaign literature. That's rot. People can get all the political stuff
they want to read-and a good deal more, too-in the papers. Who
reads speeches, nowadays, anyhow? It's bad enough to listen to
them. You ain't goin' to gain any votes by stuffin' the letter boxes
with campaign documents. Like as not you'll lose votes for there's
nothin' a man hates more than to hear the letter carrier ring his bell
and go to the letter box ex pectin' to find a letter he was lookin'
for, and find only a lot of printed politics. I met a man this very
mornin' who told me he voted the Democratic State ticket last year
just because the Republicans kept crammin' his letter box with
campaign documents.
What tells in holdin' your grip on your district is to go right down
among the poor families and help them in the different ways they
need help. I've got a regular system for this. If there's a fire in
Ninth, Tenth, or Eleventh Avenue, for example, any hour of the
day or night, I'm usually there with some of my election district
captains as soon as the fire engines. If a family is burned out I don't
ask whether they are Republicans or Democrats, and I don't refer
them to the Charity Organization Society, which would investigate
their case in a month or two and decide they were worthy of help
about the time they are dead from starvation. I just get quarters for
them, buy clothes for them if their clothes were burned up, and fix
them up till they get things runnin' again. It's philanthropy, but it's
politics, too-mighty good politics. Who can tell how many votes
one of these fires bring me? The poor are the most grateful people
in the world, and, let me tell you, they have more friends in their
neighborhoods than the rich have in theirs.
If there's a family in my district in want I know it before the
charitable societies do, and me and my men are first on the ground.
I have a special corps to look up such cases. The consequence is
that the poor look up to George W. Plunkitt as a father, come to
him in trouble-and don't forget him on election day.
Another thing, I can always get a job for a deservin' man. I make it
a point to keep on the track of jobs, and it seldom happens that I
don't have a few up my sleeve ready for use. I know every big
employer in the district and in the whole city, for that matter, and
they ain't in the habit of sayin' no to me when I ask them for a job.
And the children-the little roses of the district! Do I forget them?
Oh, no! They know me, every one of them, and they know that a
sight of Uncle George and candy means the same thing. Some of
them are the best kind of vote-getters. I'll tell you a case. Last year
a little Eleventh Avenue rosebud, whose father is a Republican,
caught hold of his whiskers on election day and said she wouldn't
let go till he'd promise to vote for me. And she didn't.