The Political 'Sucker' and the Price of a Pint
After insulting local German-Americans, a desperate campaigner tried to buy forgiveness with free beer at Turner Hall—and failed miserably.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
John Collins made a desperate, though unsuccessful, attempt to 'square' himself with the Germans during a social session of the Sons of Herman at Turner Hall. The indignation aroused by his remark about a 'd—d Dutchman' has evidently caused him much regret. Accompanied by C. W. Turner and Capt. William D. O'Toole, he called at Turner Hall to secure permission for his friends to make political speeches and enter a general denial of the remark. They were not permitted to speak, but did what appeared to be the next best thing: they went into a neighboring barroom and bought beer for all comers. At 11 o'clock they returned to the hall, but the object of their visit had become known, and the 400 people present were violently opposed to the scheme. The visitors were told that the Sons of Herman did not desire to listen to campaign speeches. Rather than go away empty-handed, the trio went to the barroom to 'set 'em up.' The news spread, and the bar enjoyed quite a run. A dozen or more jolly fellows joined hands, formed a circle, and sang German songs while they quaffed their beer, making such a noise that Collins had to content himself with quietly listening and paying the bill. In the course of an hour, the game got cold; the trio circulated upstairs briefly, but everyone was laughing at Collins. He decamped around midnight, followed by his companions. One German later remarked, 'If Mr. Collins thought he could reconcile himself to the Germans by giving them a little taffy and buying them a glass of beer, he is very much mistaken. The sucker was at the other end.'
“The sucker was at the other end, and I think he must have a painful realization of that fact by this time.”
The spectacle of a politician trying to 'buy' a constituency with free drinks at a local social club highlights the transactional, and often cynical, nature of Seattle's 19th-century political machines. While the venues—and the price of a pint—have shifted from Turner Hall to modern campaign fundraisers, the fragile ego of the candidate seeking redemption remains a permanent feature of city politics.
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