The Oddities of the Presidential Campaign

The Republican Demonstration. — The Reception of Grant. — The Legion of Millionaires. — Pocket Politicians. — The Panic of Officials. — Methods of Struggle. — The Despicable Metal in the Campaign. — The Antichrist Number. — The Chinese Letter. — Fishing in Muddy Water.

Man proposes, but fate disposes. In order to suppress and overshadow the grandiose demonstration of the Democrats, the Republicans intended to get by with 200,000 dollars, but ended up having to spend exactly half a million! Yes, literally half a million dollars, or in our terms, one million rubles. But in return, the Democrats were indeed dealt a crushing defeat. According to long-time residents, this was the most grandiose demonstration that the capital of the New World had ever witnessed. It was arranged in honor of General Grant, whose arrival had blessed New York, and irrefutably made known the popularity that the “silent soldier,” the contender for the “third term” of the presidency and the future emperor of America, enjoyed among Republicans. On Madison Square, a magnificent platform was erected for him, from which he was to review the fiery army of Republicans passing before him. The army consisted of 55,000 men in brilliant and richest uniforms. Like fiery lava, it moved for six hours before the clear eyes of the “silent soldier,” keeping military step, to the roar of music and cheers, to the crack and whistle of rockets. A remarkable feature of this procession was that it consisted of the richest and highest classes of the city. Here were legions: the “invincible knights” of the Philadelphia Republican club, who came specially from Philadelphia in the number of a thousand men to participate in the procession; a legion of lawyers, a legion of bankers, a legion of students, Grant’s legion, and so forth. The legion of bankers most interested me. It was, in every sense, a legion of millionaires, for there was not a single knight in it who, in the American expression, did not “have” a million dollars. It moved among the first in the fiery army and was sharply distinguished by the fact that it had no uniforms, but rather simple black jackets and tall silk hats, with canes “on the shoulder.” The author himself happened to be an unwilling knight of this legion, thanks to a clever trick performed by his quick-witted Yankee companion. I wanted to see General Grant, but the masses of people had formed such an impenetrable wall that it was impossible to reach him. Then the Yankee came to my rescue in a way completely unexpected to me. Rank after rank of uniformed legions passed before us, and then appeared the ununiformed legion of millionaires. Before us, all the legions made a stop in order to dress their ranks and march more smartly before Grant, whose headquarters were about fifty sazhens from there. As soon as the millionaires’ legion drew level with us, my companion, without saying a word, seized me by the hand and forcibly drew me into one of the rear ranks, himself taking a place in the front. I guessed what was happening and suppressed an involuntary confusion. “Keep time!” — cried the leader, noticing some disorder, and the author of these lines, together with American bankers, shouldering their canes, began keeping military step on the spot, left-right, left-right. Soon the music struck up, the command “forward!” rang out, and the legion of millionaires, along with the penniless author, moved before the clear eyes of the future American emperor, waving their hats and crying “hurrah!” to the courteous bow of the hero of the celebration. General Grant—a healthy, fresh man of middle age, was dressed in simple black clothing and with a beaming face continually removed and replaced his hat, greeting the passing legions. Remarkable was the endurance of American millionaires. From the starting point of the procession they had to march about six versts through the city to reach Grant’s headquarters, and all of this at a steady military pace, otherwise the masses would have greeted them with shameful hissing, which boastful and ambitious Americans fear worse than fire. But even more remarkable was the endurance of the hero of the celebration himself. The procession began passing before him at ten in the evening, and to the last legions his weary hand waved his hat already at four in the morning. The “invincible knights” from Philadelphia, having passed before the general at midnight, boarded a train and by 2[1]1/2 in the morning were already home—two hundred versts from New York, while the last New York legions continued for another hour and a half heading toward Grant’s headquarters. The east was already whitening, and half a million dollars were still smoking in the dying torches, and only an hour after sunrise did the fresh breeze disperse the smoke and soot—the sole remnant of the aforementioned half million dollars.

During the procession, more than five hundred thousand residents poured into the streets, by general calculation. This immense sea of onlookers provided ample opportunity for the activity of the party of pocket politicians. There are scarcely any cities in the world, besides London, where pocket politics has reached such a high degree of development, such perfection of organization and boldness, as in New York. When you go out onto the street in broad daylight here, you are constantly advised to button your jacket so that the watch chain is completely invisible. Otherwise, they say you’ll wish you could forget their names. Here, by the lowest calculation, there exist twenty-five thousand professional pocket thieves, not counting the multitude of casual knights of the same order. They have a strict organization, have their own executive committee, which runs the whole machinery of pocket politics and directs the entire campaign—the relieving of other people’s pockets. In this case, the committee sent out a division of pocket knights for the pocket attack, and the result of their valorous exploits were entire newspaper columns, presenting an endless list of vanished watches, earrings, money, handkerchiefs, and so on. The police, to the extent their forces allowed, repulsed the attack and captured about a hundred prisoners, one of whom turned out to be a very important prisoner. Upon his person was found an entire stack of official correspondence of the respectable order, which gave the police an Ariadne’s thread into the very depths of the organization. But the legion nevertheless brilliantly fulfilled its task, and the total acquisition of the pocket order for that evening was estimated at fifty thousand dollars. The court chronicle was also enriched with cases of all kinds. Americans, despite all their liveliness, are distinguished by a remarkable love of order and conduct themselves quietly even at such gatherings where nothing but wild chaos could prevail among us. But at a gathering of half a million street onlookers even here there could not avoid various cases of disruption and subsequent arrests. Thus, right at General Grant’s headquarters, an irrepressibly zealous Democrat stationed himself and made greetings to all the passing legions—by sticking his tongue out and shouting various anti-Republican speeches. When the police invited him to conduct himself more decently, he answered that he was an American citizen and could do whatever he wished; and when the policeman raised his pacifying club, the citizen not only did not fear it, but knocked the hat off the policeman and threw it with his foot into the ranks of the legions, for which he suffered a month’s imprisonment in jail. One cab driver fired a revolver during the procession. When asked why he had a revolver with him, the driver answered that he was transporting sausages and had taken the revolver to protect them from hungry Republicans. The court sentenced him to a fine of 1 dollar for firing and 10 dollars for carrying a weapon. To carry a weapon here, one must obtain permission for it, as we in Russia have had to do in recent times; for unauthorized carrying of a revolver a fine of 10 dollars is prescribed. There were several other cases of this sort, but quite insignificant, not disturbing the general impression of decorum with which the half-million crowd conducted itself.

Where do these enormous sums of money come from, which are so generously transformed into the smoke and soot of processions? Usually they are composed of voluntary contributions from members of various political clubs. When there are private processions of individual clubs—and they happen every day—the club appropriates money for torches, uniforms, and rockets. But at such grand and luxurious processions as the Grant procession was, ordinary club resources proved insufficient, and then the politicians resort to such methods of raising money that a naive foreigner can only gasp. The country is in the hands of the Republicans, and all the numerous government positions are filled with Republican officials, of whom there are about 100,000. This entire enormous army lives solely on government salaries and by the mercy of the Republican government. As soon as the Republican party loses its power and is seized by the Democrats, this entire army will have to clear all desks and all positions, which will then be occupied by hungry Democrats. Thus, for the entire official army, the presidential campaign is not a mere pastime, but a struggle for their own survival, and it works with all its strength in favor of the ruling party. The government, for its part, knowing the complete dependence of officials on its existence, offers them subscription sheets for “voluntary” contributions to the expenses of conducting the campaign, and deducts the subscribed sum from their salaries. Last year, when the presidential campaign reached unprecedented intensity, requiring extraordinary expenses, these voluntary sheets became obligatory and even included specifications of how much and what rank should contribute. Such a turn of events terribly alarmed the entire official world. Especially alarmed were the police and fire departments, which until then had been free from taxes, and now, to their horror, saw the appearance of these disagreeable subscription sheets in their offices with a clear specification of the sum each person should contribute. And this sum was quite substantial. Thus, the police, who are divided into four ranks, had to subscribe: a patrolman 12 dollars, a sergeant 25, a lieutenant 50, and a captain 100 dollars. The firemen similarly. And everyone subscribed.

— Please tell me, is this not wild coercion? How do officials tolerate it? — I asked one American.

— They can’t do anything! — he replied,—if you don’t want to pay, you’re dismissed from your position. It’s better to pay a small sum and keep your position than not to pay and lose it altogether.

— But in any case, the Republican government is making enemies rather than friends through such a practice, and many officials might vote for the Democratic candidate as a result of this.

— Oh, not at all. Acting this way for officials would mean cutting off the branch they sit on. They will endure even a double tax, and all will be ardent Republicans, because they sit in warm places,—the American joked.

Besides official collections, there are others which, in appearance, more rightfully bear the name of voluntary. From the party headquarters, subscription sheets are sent to all private institutions—to stores, banking offices, railroad administrations, and so on, wherever there are party adherents, and significant sums are collected everywhere. First of all, of course, the proprietors themselves subscribe, but the main collection is composed of contributions from employees, clerks, and shop assistants, of whom there are entire legions in some stores and offices. Again, crude acts of violence frequently occur. After subscribing himself, the proprietor sends the subscription sheet to his employees, and they all subscribe—under threat of losing their positions. There have been cases where zealously politicking proprietors dismissed all their employees for refusing to make a contribution to their party. Such omnipotence of proprietors over their employees has degenerated here into a sort of shameful tyranny, and proprietors entirely control not only the money of their clerks, but—worse still—even their votes at elections, forcing them to vote for their candidate and their party, again under threat of crude dismissal from office. The American bourgeoisie is the rudest and most soulless tyranny one can imagine.

In such ways enormous sums of money are collected, which are generously transformed into smoke and soot during brilliant processions. Only one part of them is used for the processions; another part goes toward other methods of presidential struggle. The despicable metal plays an extraordinarily important role in the presidential campaign, especially in the so-called “doubtful” states. These are states in which the competing parties are equally powerful, and which therefore vote sometimes for one party, sometimes for another, due to various accidental causes. Given the general balance of power between the parties, it is primarily these states that give preponderance to whichever party they incline toward. Consequently, both parties use all their efforts to win them over to their side, and one of the most powerful means of this persuasion is the all-powerful dollar. The bribery of voters is here the most common thing, and enormous sums are spent on it. How important a role the dollar plays in the presidential campaign can be seen even from the fact that the parties openly boast of the capital that their headquarters have at their disposal. New York State is one of the doubtful states, and the leader of the Republican party in it once said with self-satisfaction that “headquarters” was fully assured on the monetary side and had at its disposal several million dollars for the needs of the campaign.

In war all means are permitted. This rule finds complete application in the presidential campaign. Parties resort to all possible means to simply besmirch the opponent’s candidate in the eyes of the people. Intrigues are set in motion, tall tales are spread, all the defects of candidates are examined to the very roots and exhibited in a form exaggerated to monstrosity for public ridicule, counterfeit documents are circulated, false letters purportedly written by the candidates and compromising their moral character or political beliefs, and so on. The Democratic party distinguished itself most in this regard, knowing no bounds of propriety. The Democratic press, from the very moment of Garfield’s nomination as candidate, launched into some sort of wild bacchanal of exposing the unfortunate general in various dealings. Day after day, it discovered and published ever new documents supposedly testifying to his immorality, official corruption, venality, and such other terrible crimes, and poor Garfield was not left with a single blemish that had not been bespattered with mud. Upon seeing this, a foreigner’s hair would stand on end at the thought—but what if this disgraced, bespattered candidate were to be elected president? How would half the nation regard such a ruler of the country?