Upon the completion of the legislative work of the first session of the New Jersey Legislature the name of Woodrow Wilson quickly forged to the front as a strong Presidential possibility. Intimate friends, including Walter Hines Page, afterward United States Ambassador to Great Britain; Cleveland H. Dodge and Robert Bridges, the two latter old friends and classmates of the Governor in the famous class of '79 at Princeton, set about by conferences to launch the Presidential boom of their friend, and selected for the task of the actual management of the campaign the young Princetonian, William F. McCombs, then an active and rising young lawyer of New York. These gentlemen, and other devoted friends and advisers of the Governor, made up the first Wilson contingent, and at once initiated a plan of publicity and organization throughout the country. They arranged to have the New Jersey Governor visit strategic points in the country to make addresses on a variety of public questions. Whether Colonel Harvey was behind the scenes as the adviser of this little group I have never ascertained, butHarper's Weekly, then edited by the Colonel, was his leading supporter in the magazine world, carrying the name of the Princetonian at its mast-head as a candidate for the Presidency. There were frequent conferences between the Colonel and the Governor at the Executive offices, and as a result of these conferences the Wilson boom soon became a thing to be reckoned with by the Old Guard in control of party affairs in the nation.
Wilson stock from the moment of the adjournment of the Legislature began to rise, and his candidacy spread with great rapidity, until in nearly every state in the Union "Wilson Clubs" were being established. The New Jersey primaries, where again he met and defeated the Smith forces; the Ohio primaries, where he split the delegates with the favourite son, Governor Harmon, a distinguished Democrat; and the Wisconsin primaries, at which he swept the state, gave a tremendous impetus to the already growing movement for the "Reform" Governor of New Jersey.
Everything was serenely moving in the Wilson camp, when like a thunderclap out of a clear sky broke the story of the disagreement between Colonel Harvey, Marse Henry Watterson, and the Governor of New Jersey. I recall my conversation with Governor Wilson on the day following the Harvey- Watterson conference at a New York club. As private secretary to the Governor, I always made it a rule to keep in close touch with every conference then being held regarding the political situation, and in this way I first learned about the Harvey-Watterson meeting which for a few weeks threatened to destroy all the lines of support that had been built up throughout the past months of diligent work and organization.
The Governor and I were seated in a trolley car on our way from the State Capitol to the railroad station in Trenton when he informed me, in the most casual way and without seeming to understand the possible damage he had done his own cause, of what followed the conference the previous day. It was like this: the conference had ended and they were leaving the room when Colonel Harvey put his hand on Woodrow Wilson's shoulder and said: "Governor, I want to ask you a frank question, and I want you to give me a frank answer. In your opinion is the support ofHarper's Weeklyhelping or hurting you?" In telling me of it Woodrow Wilson said: "I was most embarrassed, and replied: 'Colonel, I wish you had not asked me that question.' 'Well, what is the answer?' Colonel Harvey insisted pleasantly. 'Why, Colonel, some of my friends tell me it is not helping me in the West.' Colonel Harvey said: I was afraid you might feel that way about it, and we shall have to soft-pedal a bit'." Mr. Wilson was so serenely unconscious that any offence had been taken that when informed by me a little later that his name had disappeared from the head of the editorial column ofHarper's Weeklyhe did not connect this with the interview. "Was Colonel Harvey offended?" I asked. "He didn't seem to be," was the Governor's answer.
I immediately scented the danger of the situation and the possibilities of disaster to his political fortunes that lay in his reply, and I told him very frankly that I was afraid he had deeply wounded Colonel Harvey and that it might result in a serious break in their relations. The Governor seemed grieved at this and said that he hoped such was not the case; that even after he had expressed himself so freely, Colonel Harvey had been most kind and agreeable to him and that they had continued to discuss in the most friendly way the plans for the campaign and that the little conference had ended without apparent evidence that anything untoward had happened that might lead to a break in their relations. We then discussed at length the seriousness of the situation, and as a result of our talk the Governor wrote Colonel Harvey and endeavoured to make clear what he had in mind when he answered the question put to him by the Colonel at the club conference a few days before, not, indeed, by way of apology, but simply by way of explanation. This letter to the Colonel and a subsequent one went a long way toward softening the unfortunate impression that had been created by the publication of the Harvey-Watterson correspondence. The letters are as follows:
(Personal)
University ClubFifth Avenue and Fifty-Fourth StreetDecember 21, 1911.
Every day I am confirmed in the judgment that my mind is a one-track road and can run only one train of thought at a time! A long time after that interview with you and Marse Henry at the Manhattan Club it came over me that when (at the close of the interview) you asked me that question about theWeeklyI answered it simply as a matter of fact and of business, and said never a word of my sincere gratitude to you for all your generous support, or of my hope that it might be continued. Forgive me, and forget my manners!
Faithfully, yours,WOODROW WILSON.
To which letter Colonel Harvey sent the following reply:
(Personal)
Franklin SquareNew York, January 4, 1912.
Replying to your note from the University Club, I think it should get without saying that no purely personal issue could arise between you and me. Whatever anybody else may surmise, you surely must know that in trying to arouse and further your political aspirations during the past few years I have been actuated solely by the belief that I was rendering a distinct public service.
The real point at the time of our interview was, as you aptly put it, one simply "of fact and of business," and when you stated the fact to be that my support was hurting your candidacy, and that you were experiencing difficulty in finding a way to counteract its harmful effect, the only thing possible for me to do, in simple fairness to you, no less than in consideration of my own self-respect, was to relieve you of your embarrassment so far as it lay within my power to do so, by ceasing to advocate your nomination. That, I think, was fully understood between us at the time, and, acting accordingly, I took down your name from the head of theWeekly'seditorial page some days before your letter was written. That seems to be all there is to it. Whatever little hurt I may have felt as a consequence of the unexpected peremptoriness of your attitude toward me is, of course, wholly eliminated by your gracious words.
Very truly yours,GEORGE HARVEY.
To Colonel Harvey's letter Governor Wilson replied as follows:
(Personal)
Hotel AstorNew York, January 11, 1912.
Generous and cordial as was your letter written in reply to my note from the University Club, it has left me uneasy, because, in its perfect frankness, it shows that I did hurt you by what I so tactlessly said at the Knickerbocker Club. I am very much ashamed of myself, for there is nothing I am more ashamed of than hurting a true friend, however unintentional the hurt may have been. I wanted very much to see you in Washington, but was absolutely captured by callers every minute I was in my rooms, and when I was not there was fulfilling public engagements. I saw you at the dinner but could not get at you, and after the dinner was surrounded and prevented from getting at you. I am in town to day, to speak this evening, and came in early in the hope of catching you at your office.
For I owe it to you and to my own thought and feeling to tell you how grateful I am for all your generous praise and support of me (no one has described me more nearly as I would like myself to be than you have); how I have admired you for the independence and unhesitating courage and individuality of your course; and how far I was from desiring that you should cease your support of me in theWeekly. You will think me very stupid—but I did not think of that as the result of my blunt answer to your question. I thought only of the means of convincing people of the real independence of theWeekly'sposition. You will remember that that was what we discussed. And now that I have unintentionally put you in a false and embarrassing position you heap coals of fire on my head by continuing to give out interviews favourable to my candidacy!
All that I can say is that you have proved yourself very big, and thatI wish I might have an early opportunity to tell you face to face howI really feel about it all. With warm regard,
Cordially and faithfully, yours,WOODROW WILSON.
For a while it seemed as if the old relations between the Colonel and the New Jersey Governor would be resumed, but some unfriendly influence, bent upon the Governor's undoing, thrust itself into the affair, and soon the story of the Manhattan Club incident broke about the Princetonian's head with a fury and bitterness that deeply distressed many of Mr. Wilson's friends throughout the country. The immediate effect upon his candidacy was almost disastrous. Charges of ingratitude to the "original Wilson man" flew thick and fast. Mr. Wilson's enemies throughout the country took up the charge of ingratitude and soon the stock of the New Jersey man began to fall, until his immediate friends almost lost heart. The bad effect of the publication of the Harvey-Watterson correspondence and the bitter attacks upon the sincerity of the New Jersey Governor were soon perceptible in the falling away of contributions so necessary to keep alive the campaign then being carried on throughout the country. The "band-wagon" crowd began to leave us and jump aboard the Clark, Underwood, and Harmon booms.
Suddenly, as if over night, a reaction in favour of Governor Wilson began to set in. The continued pounding and attacks of the reactionary press soon convinced the progressives in the ranks of the Democratic party that Wilson was being unjustly condemned, because he had courageously spoken what many believed to be the truth. At this critical stage of affairs a thing happened which, routed his enemies. One of the leading publicity men of the Wilson forces in Washington, realizing the damage that was being done his chief, inspired a story, through his Washington newspaper friends, that Wilson was being gibbeted because he refused to accept the support of Wall Street interests which Harvey and Watterson had offered him, and that his refusal to accept their offer was the real cause of the break. This new angle of the Harvey-Watterson episode worked a complete reversal of opinion.
The clever work of this publicity man in turning the light on what he conceived to be the real purpose of the Harvey-Watterson conference probably did injustice to these two gentlemen, but at all events it gave weight to the impression in the minds of many people throughout the country that the real reason for the break was Mr. Wilson's refusal to bow the knee to certain eastern financial interests that were understood to be behindHarper's Weekly. The tide quickly turned against Colonel Harvey and Marse Henry Watterson. Marse Henry, alone in his suite at the New Willard Hotel at Washington, and the Colonel away off in his tower at Deal, New Jersey, were busily engaged in explaining to the public and attempting, in heroic fashion, to extricate themselves from the unfortunate implications created by the story of the Wilson publicity man. What appeared at first blush to be a thing that would destroy the candidacy of the New Jersey Governor had been, by clever newspaper manipulation, turned to his advantage and aid.
When the bitterness and rancour caused by this unfortunate incident had happily passed away Colonel Watterson and I met at a delightful dinner at Harvey's Restaurant in Washington and discussed the "old fight." The young fellow who had inspired the story which so grievously distressed Marse Henry and Colonel Harvey was present at this dinner. Marse Henry was in fine spirits, and without showing the slightest trace of the old bitterness, rehearsed the details of this now-famous incident in a witty, sportsmanlike, and good-natured way, and at its conclusion he turned to my newspaper friend and laughingly said: "You damn rascal, you are the scoundrel who sent out the story that Harvey and I were trying to force Wall Street money on Wilson. However, old man, it did the trick. If it had not been for the clever use you made of this incident, Wilson never would have been President."
In a beautiful letter addressed to the President by Marse Henry on September 24, 1914, conveying his expressions of regret at the death of the President's first wife, appears the following statement with reference to the famous Harvey-Watterson controversy:
I hope that hereafter you and I will better understand one another; in any event that the single disagreeable episode will vanish and never be thought of more. In Paris last winter I went over the whole matter with Mr. McCombs and we quite settled and blotted out our end of it. I very much regret the use of any rude word—too much the characteristic of our rough-and-tumble political combats—and can truly say that I have not only earnestly wished the success of your administration but have sought to find points of agreement, not of disagreement.
I am writing as an old man—old enough to be your father—who has the claim upon your consideration that all his life he has pursued the ends you yourself have aimed at, if at times too zealously and exactingly, yet without self-seeking or rancor.
Your friend,HENRY WATTERSON.
The President's acknowledgment of this letter is as follows:
September 28, 1914.
Your kind letter has gratified me very deeply. You may be sure that any feeling I may have had has long since disappeared and that I feel only gratified that you should again and again have come to my support in the columns of theCourier-Journal. The whole thing was a great misunderstanding.
Sincerely yours,WOODROW WILSON.
While the Harvey-Watterson episode ended as above related, there is no doubt that Woodrow Wilson deeply regretted the whole matter, and, so far as he was concerned, there was no feeling on his part of unfriendliness or bitterness toward Colonel Harvey. Indeed, he felt that Colonel Harvey had unselfishly devoted himself to his cause in the early and trying days of his candidacy, and that Harvey's support of him was untouched by selfish interests of any kind. In every way he tried to soften the unfortunate impression that had been made on the country by what many thought was an abrupt, ungracious way of treating a friend. An incident in connection with this matter is worth relating:
One day at the conclusion of the regular Tuesday cabinet meeting the President and I lingered at the table, as was our custom, and gossiped about the affairs of the Administration and the country. These discussions were intimate and frank in every way.
A note in the social column of one of the leading papers of Washington carried the story that Colonel Harvey's daughter, Miss Dorothy Harvey, was in town and was a guest at the home of Mrs. Champ Clark. I took occasion to mention this to the President, suggesting that it would be a gracious thing on his part and on the part of Mrs. Wilson to invite Miss Harvey to the Sayre-Wilson wedding which was scheduled to take place a few days later, hoping that in this way an opening might be made for the resumption of the old relationship between the Colonel and Mr. Wilson. The President appeared greatly interested in the suggestion, saying that he would take it up with Mrs. Wilson at once, assuring me that it could be arranged. When I saw how readily he acted upon this suggestion, I felt that this was an opening for a full, frank discussion of his relations with Colonel Harvey. I approached the subject in this way: "For a long time I have wanted to discuss Colonel Harvey with you. There is no doubt, Governor, that this unfortunate episode did not sit well on the stomachs of the American people. Whether you believe it or not, the country resented your attitude toward your old friend, and out of this incident an impression has grown which is becoming stronger with each day, that you pay little regard to friendship and the obligations that grow out of it. I have been hoping that in some way the old relationship could be resumed and that you would feel free at some time in a public way to attest your real feeling for Colonel Harvey, at least by way of reciprocation for the genuine way he stood by you in the old days in New Jersey." The President looked at me in the most serious way, apparently weighing every word I had uttered, and said: "You are right, Tumulty; unfortunate impressions have been created. What can I do for Colonel Harvey to attest in some public way my appreciation of what he did for me in the old days?" I asked why, inasmuch as McCombs had declined the French Ambassadorship, this post might not be offered to Colonel Harvey, adding that I believed he coveted and would appreciate such an appointment. The President said that this was an admirable suggestion and authorized me to get in touch with Colonel Harvey at once and make him the offer of the French post.
While my relations with Colonel Harvey were at no time strained, and, in fact, up to this day our friendship has been uninterrupted, I thought it would be more tactful if I should approach him through the junior senator from New York, James O'Gorman. Immediately upon leaving the President I went to the Army and Navy Club, where Senator O'Gorman was living, and told him of my conversation with the President in reference to Colonel Harvey. He was enthusiastic and immediately got in touch with Colonel Harvey at his home at Deal, New Jersey, told him of the President's offer, and asked for a conference. Then a thing happened which completely destroyed these plans for a reconciliation. The following Sunday an interview signed by Colonel Harvey, bitterly assailing the President, appeared in the New YorkTimes. The fat was in the fire. Senator O'Gorman and I were silenced. When I approached the President on Monday morning to discuss further the matter with him, he said: "I greatly regret this interview of Colonel Harvey. How can I now with propriety offer him any post? Knowing Harvey as I do, he would be reluctant to take it, for the country might be of the opinion that he had yielded in his criticism of me by the offer of this appointment, and I could not in honour make the appointment now, for it might appear to the country that by this method I was trying to purchase the silence of the Colonel. I am very sorry, indeed, that the plan we discussed has fallen to the ground."
And thus the efforts of Mr. Wilson to bring about a reconciliation with his old friend ended in dismal failure.
While Governor Wilson came out of this controversy with the two Colonels, Harvey and Watterson, with flying colours, he was by no means beyond the danger line. His enemies both within and without the party hotly contested his leadership, and the bitterness of the opposition grew in proportion as his candidacy gained daily advantages. Everything possible was done to block his progress and to make more difficult his road to the Presidency. Everything he had ever said or written, especially his "History of the American People," was carefully examined in the hope of finding some way to discredit him. All the guns of the opposition were turned upon him, but nothing seemed sufficient to block his progress. All the charges, intimations, insinuations, and slanders that were industriously circulated by his enemies were without effect, and the trained political minds in his own camp were apprehensive lest his candidacy had reached its climax too long before the convention. How to maintain the present advantage was the problem that perplexed them. They were hopefully looking forward to the benefits that would accrue to their candidate in the round-up of candidates at the famous Jackson Day dinner, scheduled for early January, 1912. This dinner was an annual affair and was eagerly looked forward to. It was expected that the leading lights of the Democratic party would attend this dinner, including Colonel W. J. Bryan, Champ Clark, Oscar Underwood, ex-Governor Folk of Missouri, Roger Sullivan of Illinois, and the New Jersey Governor's friends were confident that because of his ability as a public speaker he would make a strong and favourable impression. They were not disappointed.
We were awaiting the Jackson Day dinner with great expectations, and congratulating ourselves that we were now safely "out of the woods," and that things would move smoothly for our candidate, when like a bolt from, the blue came the publication of the famous Joline "cocked-hat" letter, which caused another panic in the ranks of the too-optimistic Wilson forces.
This letter was written by Mr. Wilson to Mr. Adrian Joline, a Princeton alumnus and prominent New York lawyer at the time of the split in the Democratic party over the silver question. The letter is as follows:
Princeton, New Jersey,April 29, 1907.
Thank you very much for sending me your address at Parsons, Kan., before the board of directors of the Missouri, Kansas & Texas Railway Company. I have read it with relish and entire agreement. Would that we could do something, at once dignified and effective, to knock Mr. Bryan once for all into a cocked hat!
Cordially and sincerely yours,WOODROW WILSON.
The publication of this letter came at a most inopportune time for the Wilson candidacy, and how to meet it was one of the most difficult problems that the Wilson forces had to face. Our enemies were jubilant. They felt that at last they had broken our lines and that we would not be able to "come back."
At this time I was at the State House at Trenton and I received a telegram from the Governor, requesting that I come at once to Washington, where he was conferring with the leaders of his forces in an effort to find some way to neutralize the bad effects of the Joline cocked-hat story in advance of the Jackson Day banquet, at which Mr. Bryan would be present. On my arrival in Washington I went to the Willard Hotel and found the Governor hi a conference with William F. McCombs, Tom Pence, Senator O'Gorman, and Dudley Field Malone. We discussed the situation fully and the character of reply the Governor should make by way of explanation of the Joline letter. Mr. Josephus Daniels, a friend and associate of Mr. Bryan, was sent to confer with Mr. Bryan in order that Mr. Wilson might have a close friend at hand who could interpret the motives which lay back of the Joline letter and impress upon Mr. Bryan the present favourable attitude of Mr. Wilson toward him. Mr. McCombs suggested that the Governor address an open letter to Mr. Bryan, voicing his regret over the publication of this letter and assuring him of his present kindly feelings toward him. I vigorously opposed Mr. McCombs' suggestion, arguing that no explanation of the Joline letter could be made to Mr. Bryan that would wear the appearance of sincerity, or be convincing, and that the letter having been written there was nothing to do to extenuate it in any way and that the wise thing was to make a virtue of necessity. I suggested that on the following night, when the Governor was to deliver his address at the Jackson Day dinner, he could, in the most generous and kindly way, pay a handsome tribute to Mr. Bryan for his unselfish service to the Democratic party throughout the dark years he had been its leader; that I felt that he would appreciate a tribute of this kind and that he would resent any explanation of this incident which would appear to be truckling or apologetic in character. This plan was finally agreed upon. In the very beginning of his speech, in the most tactful way, Governor Wilson paid a tribute to the Great Commoner by saying, as he turned to Mr. Bryan: "When others were faint-hearted, Colonel Bryan carried the Democratic standard. He kept the 'fires burning' which have heartened and encouraged the democracy of the country."
The speech at the Jackson Day dinner was a triumph for Woodrow Wilson. While it was a tempestuous voyage for him, with many dangerous eddies to be avoided, he emerged from the experience with his prestige enhanced and with his candidacy throughout the country strengthened. The Bryan-Joline crisis was safely passed. In the presence of the newspaper men at the banquet, Mr. Bryan put his arm around Mr. Wilson's shoulders in an affectionate way, and thus happily concluded the incident which for a time threatened to wreck a great enterprise.
On his return from Washington to Trenton, Governor Wilson told me that Mr. Bryan had bidden him not to worry about the publication of the Joline letter, saying: "I, of course, knew that you were not with me in my position on the currency," and Woodrow Wilson replied: "All I can say, Mr. Bryan, is that you are a great, big man."
Old line politicians, like Roger Sullivan of Illinois and Tom Taggart of Indiana, were turned to the Princetonian by his notable speech at the Jackson Day dinner and now gave sympathetic ear to the New Jersey Governor's claims for the nomination. An incident which happened at the conclusion of the banquet, as the Governor was on his way to make his train for New Jersey, illustrates the character of the victory he had won over difficulties which at the time seemed insurmountable. The old Illinois leader, Roger Sullivan, greeted the candidate in the most friendly way as he left the banquet hall, saying to him as he grasped his hand: "That was a great speech, Governor," and then, drawing closer to him, added: "I cannot say to you now just what the Illinois delegation will do, but you may rely upon it, I will be there when you need me," This remark did not seem of importance at the time, but when we discussed the incident the next day at the Capitol at Trenton we both felt that, at a critical moment of the convention Roger Sullivan could be relied upon to support us and to throw the vote of Illinois our way. Sullivan kept his promise in real, generous fashion. When it seemed as if the Baltimore Convention was at the point of deadlock, and after the Illinois delegation had voted many times for Champ Clark, Sullivan threw the full support of Illinois to the New Jersey Governor, and thus the tide was quickly turned in favour of Mr. Wilson's candidacy for the Presidency.
I had often wondered what influence beyond this Jackson Day banquet speech had induced this grizzly old political warrior to support Woodrow Wilson. Afterward I learned the real cause of it from men who kept in close touch with the Illinois delegation during the trying days of the Baltimore Convention.
Everyone who knew Roger Sullivan knew the great influence which both his fine wife and devoted son wielded over him. His son, Boetius, a Harvard graduate, had early become a Wilson devotee and supporter, and the correspondence between father, mother, and son, contained a spirited discussion of the availability of the New Jersey man for the Democratic nomination. The interest of Mrs. Sullivan and her son continued throughout the days of the Convention, which they both attended, and at the most critical moment in the proceedings of the Convention when a point was arrived at when the Illinois vote was decisive, the Illinois leader left a conference where he was being strongly urged by Mr. Wilson's friends to support the New Jersey Governor, to have a final conference with Mrs. Sullivan and their son before he would finally agree to throw his support to Wilson.
Everyone at Baltimore knows the result of this conference and how the inner councils of the Sullivan family prevailed. Illinois swung to Wilson and he was soon nominated. It was said, after the New Jersey man's nomination and election, that he showed base ingratitude to Roger Sullivan, the man who more than any other single individual in the Convention had brought about his nomination. Mr. Sullivan's devoted friends in Illinois were particularly bitter at the apparent coldness of Mr. Wilson toward their friend and idol. The President, as a matter of fact, was never unmindful of his obligation to Sullivan for the personally loyal way he had stood by him at Baltimore, and in every way while he was President he let those associated with him know that Sullivan and his friends, wherever it was possible, should be preferred in the matter of the distribution of patronage in Illinois.
The thing, however, which irritated Sullivan's friends and made many of them irreconcilable foes of Woodrow Wilson was his apparent unwillingness to say a good word for Sullivan when he announced his candidacy for the United States senatorship of Illinois. This presented an opportunity for President Wilson to pay the old debt and "even up" things with Roger. Realizing the delicacy of the situation and how deeply the progressive element in the Democratic party throughout the country might misunderstand and even resent his putting his "okeh" on the candidacy of the Illinois leader for the senatorship, nevertheless, upon considering the matter, he decided to do so and prepared a generous and wholehearted letter of endorsement of Sullivan. He felt that as a good sportsman he was bound in honour to do this for the man whose influence and support, thrown to him at the right moment of the Convention, had brought about his nomination for the Presidency. But there were other and deeper reasons urging him on to endorse his old friend. He knew how eagerly and earnestly Sullivan had fought for him at Baltimore and how in doing so he had won the enmity of the eastern wing of the Democratic party. The old bosses in the party, like Smith and Murphy, had often twitted Sullivan on his support of Wilson and threatened reprisals. Sullivan, however, stood like adamant against these influences and showed an allegiance to the New Jerseyman which earned the admiration and affection of every Wilsonite in the country. The President felt confident that should Roger Sullivan be elected to the Senate, he could count upon him to stand by and loyally support him and the Administration. At this very time the President was beginning to realize in the keenest way the necessity for real, loyal backing in the Senate. Many of the men whom he had personally supported for the Senate in the various senatorial fights throughout the country, especially those who were known as progressive senators, like Hardwick and Smith of Georgia, O'Gorman of New York, and Martine of New Jersey, had grown indifferent and were reluctant to follow his leadership in anything. The so-called Old Guard in the Senate, made up of men like Mark Smith of Arizona, Senators Martin and Swanson of Virginia, Ollie James of Kentucky, John Sharp Williams of Mississippi, Joe Robinson of Arkansas, Billy Hughes of New Jersey, Senator Culberson of Texas, Senator Simmons of North Carolina, and Senator Smith of Maryland, contrary to every prophecy and prediction made by their enemies, stood with the President through every fight in the finest and handsomest way, never deserting his leadership for a moment. Often he would say to me when we were discussing the senatorial situation: "My head is with the progressives in the Democratic party, but my heart, because of the way they stood by me, is with the so-called Old Guard in the Senate. They stand without hitching." He knew that, while Roger Sullivan was a conservative, he could be relied upon in every emergency to back him up even to the point of sacrifice. What President Wilson wanted more than anything else, as he often said, was a team that would work with him. Sullivan was just this type of man, and beyond everything else his loyalty had been tested and could be relied upon in every emergency.
In the light of these circumstances, the President decided finally to throw his hat in the ring in favour of the boss of Illinois for the United States senatorship. The letter advocating Sullivan's election was dictated and signed by the President, and is as follows:
THE WHITE HOUSEWASHINGTONOctober 12, 1914.
I have read with the greatest interest the account you were kind enough to send me of the Illinois Democratic State Convention. It is full of fine promise for the party; for it shows all the elements of the party heartily drawing together for a successful campaign; and with this union success is sure to come.
You call my attention to the fact that some Democrats are urging voters to cast their ballots for the Progressive candidate for the Senate of the United States rather than for the nominee of the Democratic primaries. You ask me if I approve of this. I do not. I have held myself very strictly to the principle that as a party man I am bound by the free choice of the people at the polls. I have always stood by the result of the primaries; I shall always do so; and I think it the duty of every Democrat to do so who cares for the success and sincerity of his party. Mr. Sullivan has been selected in a fair primary, and therefore he is entitled to the support of his party.
Sincerely yours,WOODROW WILSON.
HON. HENRY T. RAINEY,House of Representatives.
This letter and the contents of it will be a matter of news to Sullivan's friends throughout the country. Many, doubtless, will inquire why it was not published at the time. The reason it failed to reach the stage of publication can in no way be attributed to Woodrow Wilson. He never recalled it and the original is in my files. This may be surprising news to the friends of the dead leader, Roger Sullivan, but it is only fair to Mr. Wilson to say that he never hesitated in rushing to the defence of his old friend in the most generous way. He wrote this letter with the full realization of just how much it might personally injure him with the progressive thought of the country. The letter, after being written and signed by the President, was held in reserve by me until Sullivan's friends in Chicago, those in close touch with his affairs there, felt free to advise its publication. I was directed by them to release it, but the order for its release was countermanded by one of the advisers close to Sullivan, who telephoned me that it was thought inadvisable to have the President come into the campaign in Sullivan's behalf, the reason being that the publication of Wilson's letter might arouse the passionate antagonism of Theodore Roosevelt, who was about to begin a tour of Illinois in behalf of Sullivan's opponent. I was advised later that the individual with whom I dealt in this matter and upon whose direction the letter was withheld from publication had no authority to act for Sullivan in the matter and that Sullivan and his friends were deeply disappointed at Mr. Wilson's apparent unwillingness to take up the cudgel for his old friend. Many times I tried to make clear to Sullivan's friends just what the attitude of the President was, but whether I succeeded I do not know. The President, secluded in the White House, away from the madding crowd, never realized the basis of Sullivan's disappointment, for he felt that he had "gone through" for his friend and had not forgotten for a moment Sullivan's advocacy of him at Baltimore, When the news of Sullivan's death was brought to him at a time when he, also, was seriously ill, his lips quivered, great tears stood in his eyes, and turning to Mrs. Wilson, who stood beside his bed, he said: "Roger Sullivan was a wonderful and devoted friend at Baltimore," and then, turning to me, he said: "Tumulty, I sincerely hope that you will personally go to Chicago and attend the funeral and tell Mrs. Sullivan how deeply I grieve over the death of my old friend."
The contests for the delegates to the National Convention were on in full swing throughout the various states. In the early contests, particularly in the far western states, like Utah, South Dakota, North Dakota, and Montana, the Wilson candidacy, according to primary returns, began to take on the appearance of a real, robust boom. As the critical days of the Convention approached, evidences of a recession of the favourable tide to Wilson began to manifest themselves, particularly in the states of Massachusetts and Illinois, both of which swung to Clark, with New York in the offing quietly favouring Champ Clark. It was clear to the campaign managers of Wilson that from a psychological standpoint the pivotal states were New Jersey and Ohio; New Jersey, because ex-Senator Smith had again challenged the leadership of Wilson and had notified his friends throughout the country that New Jersey could be relied upon to repudiate its governor in an overwhelming fashion. Smith had made deals and combinations with all the disgruntled elements of the state, and with powerful financial backing from the so-called interests in New Jersey and New York and the mighty support of the Hearst newspapers, he was pressing the New Jersey man closely, until at times it seemed as if he might succeed in at least splitting the delegation. The friends of the New Jersey man, therefore, realizing the effect upon the democracy of the country of an adverse verdict in his home state, concentrated all possible forces at this critical point. In the meantime, and before the actual determination of the issue in New Jersey, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania swung into the Wilson column, and the Ohio primaries resulted in a split delegation between Wilson and Harmon, in Harmon's home state. All eyes were, therefore, intently watching New Jersey. A repudiation would be disastrous, although the old-timers in the Wilson camp tried to encourage us by saying that even though New Jersey might turn against its governor, Grover Cleveland, under similar circumstances in 1892, despite the opposition of his home state, had been nominated and elected President. But, fortunately for us, New Jersey in the handsomest way stood by her favourite son. The news of New Jersey's endorsement was flashed through the country, and there was jubilation in every Wilson camp. The day following the New Jersey primaries the New YorkWorld, the great Democratic paper, carried a striking editorial under the caption of "WOODROW WILSON FOR PRESIDENT." The New Jersey primaries and the Ohio results were great feathers in the caps of the Wilson men, and with enthusiasm and ardour they followed up this advantage.
As the days for the opening of the Baltimore Convention approached the New Jersey Governor and his family left Princeton for Sea Girt, a delightful place along the Atlantic seaboard, where the state of New Jersey had provided for its governor an executive mansion, a charming cottage, a replica of General Washington's headquarters at Morristown. With us to these headquarters, to keep vigil as it were over the New Jersey Governor, went a galaxy of newspaper men, representing the leading papers of the country.
The first, and indeed the most important, situation the candidate was called upon to handle at Sea Girt as a preliminary to the Convention was his reply to the now famous Bryan-Parker telegrams, which played so important a part in the deliberations and indeed in the character of the whole Convention—It will be recalled that Mr. Bryan, who was in attendance at the Republican Convention at Chicago as a special correspondent, had telegraphed an identic telegram to each of the Democratic candidates, Messrs. Clark, Underwood, Wilson, and Harmon, as follows:
Chicago, June, 1912.
In the interest of harmony, I suggest to the sub-committee of the Democratic National Committee the advisability of recommending as temporary chairman some progressive acceptable to the leading progressive candidates for the Presidential nomination. I take it for granted that no committeeman interested in Democratic success would desire to offend the members of a convention overwhelmingly progressive by naming a reactionary to sound the keynote of the campaign.
Eight members of the sub-committee, however, have, over the protest of the remaining eight, agreed upon not only a Reactionary but upon the one Democrat who, among those not candidates for the Presidential nomination, is, in the eyes of the public, most conspicuously identified with the reactionary element of the party.
I shall be pleased to join you and your friends in opposing his selection by the full committee or by the Convention. Kindly answer here.
I was on my way from New York to Sea Girt when I read a copy of this telegram in the evening papers. I believe that I grasped the full significance of this move on the part of Mr. Bryan. In fact, I became so anxious about it that I left the train before reaching my destination, in order to say to Governor Wilson over the 'phone how important I thought the message really was and how cautiously it should be handled. I tried to impress upon him the importance of the answer he was called upon to make to Mr. Bryan. He calmly informed me that he had not yet received the telegram and that he would, of course, give me an opportunity to discuss the matter with him before making his reply.
It was clear that Mr. Bryan, whose influence in the councils of the Democratic party at that time was very great, was seeking by this method to ascertain from leading Presidential candidates like Wilson, Underwood, Clark, and Harmon, just how they felt about the efforts of the New York delegation, led by the Tammany boss, Charlie Murphy, and the conservative element of the Democratic party in the East, to control the Convention and to give it the most conservative and standpat appearance by controlling the preliminary organization and nominating Alton B. Parker as temporary chairman. For many weeks previous to the Convention it had been rumoured that that was the programme and that the real purpose which lay behind it was to unhorse Bryan and to end for all time his control and that of the radicals of the West over the affairs of the Democratic party. It was a recrudescence of the old fight of 1896, between the conservative East and the radical West—Bryan assuming, of course, the leadership of the radicals of the West, and Charlie Murphy and his group acting as the spokesmen of the conservative East.
It was clear to me that Bryan anticipated just what replies Underwood, Clark, and Harmon would make to his inquiry. Whether he was certain of what the New Jersey Governor would say in answer to his telegram, I never could ascertain. Indeed, many of the New Jersey Governor's supporters were ungenerous enough to say that behind the inquiry lay a selfish purpose; that Mr. Bryan took this method to reestablish his leadership and to place himself at the forefront of the liberal, progressive forces of the Convention.
It is clear, as one looks back upon this incident, that a misstep in the handling of this inquiry from Mr. Bryan might have been fatal to the New Jersey man's candidacy.
When I arrived at Sea Girt to discuss the matter with Governor Wilson, I was surprised to find that he had not even read the telegram, although a copy of it lay upon his desk, and when he did read it and we were discussing it he did not share my view of its great importance. In attempting to emphasize its importance I experienced one of the most difficult jobs I ever had in the eleven years I was associated with Woodrow Wilson. In vain I tried to impress upon him what I believed to be the purpose which lay behind the whole business; that his reply would determine the question as to whether he was going to line up with the progressive element which was strong in the West, or whether he would take sides with those of the conservative East, many of whom were bitterly opposed to him. He finally informed me that he was in touch with Mr. McCombs, his campaign manager at Baltimore, and that he would not reply to Mr. Bryan's telegram until he received some word from the former as to what his opinion was in regard to handling this difficult matter. I left him, after impressing upon him the necessity of early action, lest our progressive friends both at Baltimore and throughout the country who were awaiting word from us should be disappointed by his apparent unwillingness to take his position with the progressives.
The newspaper correspondents at Sea Girt, realizing the importance of the candidate's decision, industriously kept upon our trail to find out what reply would be made to Mr. Bryan. The direct wire between Baltimore and Sea Girt was kept busy with inquiries from our friends as to what attitude we were taking in the matter. While my relations with McCombs at the time were of the friendliest sort, I feared that the Eastern environment in which he lived, and his attempt to bring Tammany into camp for the New Jersey Governor, would necessarily play a large part in influencing his judgment, and I was apprehensive lest Governor Wilson should be too much inclined to accept Mr. McCombs' final judgment in the matter.
On June 21, 1912, the following telegram came from Mr. McCombs, as the basis of a proposed reply to Mr. Bryan by the New Jersey Governor:
Baltimore, June 21, 1912.
HON. WILLIAM J. BRYANLincoln, Nebraska.
I quite agree with you that the temporary chairman of the Convention should voice the sentiments of the democracy of the nation which I am convinced is distinctly progressive. However, before receiving your telegram I had given the following statement for publication in the BaltimoreEvening Sun: My friends in Baltimore are on the people's side in everything that affects the organization of the Convention. They are certain not to forget their standards as they have already shown. It is not necessary that I should remind them of these standards from New Jersey and I have neither the right nor the desire to direct the organization of a convention of which I am not even a member.
(signed) MCCOMBS
I was greatly disappointed, of course, at the character of reply suggested by McCombs and argued with the Governor at length on what I considered would be the disastrous effects of making a reply such as the one contained in the above telegram. Clearly, Mr. McCombs' suggested reply was a rebuke to Mr. Bryan and a bid for the Eastern vote in the convention. Of course, Governor Wilson was most reluctant to disregard the advice of McCombs. He felt that he (McCombs) was "on the job" at Baltimore and more intimately in touch with the situation than he himself could be at Sea Girt. After a long discussion of the matter, the proposed reply prepared by McCombs was ignored and the following telegram was prepared and sent by Woodrow Wilson:
W. J. BRYAN, Chicago:
You are quite right. Before hearing of your message I clearly stated my position in answer to a question from the Baltimore Evening Sun. The Baltimore Convention is to be a convention of Progressives, of men who are progressive in principle and by conviction. It must, if it is not to be put in a wrong light before the country, express its convictions in its organization and in its choice of the men who are to speak for it. You are to be a member of the Convention and are entirely within your rights in doing everything within your power to bring that result about. No one will doubt where my sympathies lie and you will, I am sure, find my friends in the Convention acting upon clear conviction and always in the interest of the people's cause. I am happy in the confidence that they need no suggestion from me.
(Signed) WOODROW WILSON.
This reply, more than any other single thing, changed the whole attitude and temper of the Convention toward Woodrow Wilson. The progressive forces in it were seeking leadership and Mr. Bryan, by his inquiry, had provided an opportunity, of which. Mr. Wilson took full advantage.
An interesting incident occurred in connection with this affair. Being unable to induce the Governor quickly to reply to Mr. Bryan, and realizing that our friends at Baltimore would expect him to agree with Mr. Bryan, and thus take his place with the progressive element in the Convention, I was firmly convinced that he would at the end be found in agreement with Mr. Bryan. I, therefore, took the liberty of saying to the newspaper men in our group—those who were favourably disposed to us—that when Mr. Wilson did reply to Mr. Bryan he would be found in harmony with the Commoner's ideas. This unofficial tip was immediately conveyed to Baltimore and our friends, after returning from the Convention, told me how this piece of inspired information had put heart in our men, and that on a bulletin board before the BaltimoreSunoffices there was posted the announcement "WILSON AGREES WITH BRYAN" and before it hundreds of Wilson men gathered, cheering the message of the New Jersey Governor.
The reply of the New Jersey Governor was prepared by him while he was seated on the side of a little bed in one of the rooms of the Sea Girt cottage. He looked at me intently, holding a pad and pencil in his hands, and then wrote these significant words to Mr. Bryan: "You are right."
I have often wondered what effect on the Convention McCombs' proposed reply, which contained a rebuke to Mr. Bryan, would have had. From that time on Mr. Bryan was the devoted friend of the New Jersey Governor. Mr. Wilson's reply had convinced the Nebraskan that the Governor was not afraid to accept the issue and that he was in favour of supporting a preliminary organization that was to be progressive both in principle and by conviction.
McCombs was obsessed with the idea that the New York delegation must be won; that everything else was negligible compared with that. Therefore he wished Mr. Wilson in his reply to say something that would be considered by the New York delegation as a public rebuke to Mr. Bryan. I afterward learned that McCombs, nervous, incapable of standing the strain and excitement of the Convention, had retired to a friend's house at Baltimore where, after the Woodrow Wilson telegram to William Jennings Bryan, he was found in a room, lying across a bed, crying miserably. To the inquiries of his friends as to what was the matter with him McCombs replied, weeping, that the Governor had spoiled everything by his telegram to Bryan; that had the Governor followed his [McCombs'] advice, he could have been nominated.
The direct wire between the Sea Girt cottage and the Wilson headquarters at Baltimore was kept busy from early morning until late at night. The telephone exchange in the cottage was so arranged that a branch telephone was kept in the little room under the stairway, which constituted a sort of listening post, which permitted me, in accordance with the suggestion of the Governor himself, to listen in on conversations, not by way of eavesdropping, but in order that we might intelligently confer after each conversation on the various matters that might have to be decided upon with reference to the organization of the convention. Many of the momentous questions having to do with the conduct of the Convention were discussed and settled over this 'phone. The most frequent users of the 'phone during these days were Colonel Bryan and Mr. McCombs, our campaign manager. During the opening days of the Convention I made it my business to keep in close touch with Baltimore both by conversations over the 'phone with the active managers of the Wilson boom and by carefully reading each morning the news items appearing in the New YorkTimes, New YorkWorld, and the BaltimoreSun, this last-named paper being one of the leading advocates of the Wilson candidacy in the country.
I was personally, and in some cases intimately, acquainted with the special writers on these great journals and knew from previous contact with them that they were on the "inside" of the situation at Baltimore, and in this way much information was gleaned which proved helpful in keeping us in touch with the many happenings at the Convention.
Having successfully passed through the Bryan-Parker crisis, we decided upon a kind of strategy that would win to our side the various progressive elements in the Convention. In line with this idea, we suggested to our managers at Baltimore the advisability of putting forward the name of Ollie M. James of Kentucky for permanent chairman of the Convention. While he was a staunch Clark man and a devoted follower of Mr. Bryan, we knew he could be relied upon to give us a fair deal as the presiding officer of the Convention. There was another reason, too. Away off in Sea Girt we gathered the impression that the sober second thought of the Convention favoured his selection and that even though we might fail in our attempt to nominate him for this office, our efforts at least in this regard would give the impression to those who looked with favour upon Wilson as their second choice. Another reason was this: We were not afraid to trust our cause to a Clark man, and Ollie James for many years had been the idol of convention crowds. When, upon the conclusion of the Bryan-Parker episode, Mr. Bryan telephoned Sea Girt to discuss with the Governor the matter of the chairmanship, he was greatly surprised and pleased to have the Governor say, in the most hearty way that, upon canvassing the whole situation, he felt it would be an admirable and just thing to select Ollie James of Kentucky. Mr. Bryan said: "But, Governor Wilson, Mr. James is in the Convention as a Clark man." "It does not matter," was the Governor's reply. "He is our kind of a fellow, and I am sure my friends can rely upon him to treat our cause well." From Mr. Bryan's subsequent conversations over the telephone it clearly appeared that he was delighted at the suggestion of his own intimate friend, and it was plain that he was being convinced from moves of this kind by the New Jersey Governor that Woodrow Wilson was willing to stand or fall with him in attempting to organize the Convention along progressive lines.
Years after the Convention the senator from Kentucky, who became my closest and dearest friend, and who distinguished himself as a member of the Senate, and who was one of the staunchest defenders of the President and the Administration, told me of the wisdom which he thought lay behind the suggestion of himself for the chairmanship; that we, at Sea Girt, rightly sensed the situation and that the suggestion of his name had done more than anything else to convince the men in the Convention of the genuine character of the New Jersey Governor's progressiveness. We felt that strategic moves of this kind appealed to the progressive thought in the Convention and went far to remove the strange impression many of the delegates had that Wilson was a rank conservative. It was plainly perceptible that these acts were quickly turning the progressives in the Convention toward our candidate.
In following these suggestions, we were, in fact, acting independently of the New Jersey Governor's advisers at Baltimore. It was plain to be seen that the battle at Baltimore would finally simmer down to a contest between the reactionaries and the progressives, and we decided at Sea Girt that in every move that was to be made our purpose should be to win the progressive support in the Convention. McCombs was at no time found in harmony with this action, his principal activities at Baltimore being given over to an attempt to win for the New Jersey Governor the support of the conservatives of the East, and, particularly, New York, whose seventy- six votes he thought the great prize of the Convention.
At Sea Girt we kept in close touch with our friends at Baltimore, so that after each ballot the New Jersey candidate was apprised of the result. During the trying days and nights of the Convention the only eager and anxious ones in the family group, besides myself, were Mrs. Wilson and the Wilson girls. The candidate himself indeed seemed to take only perfunctory interest in what was happening at Baltimore. He never allowed a single ballot or the changes those ballots reflected to ruffle or disturb him. Never before was the equable disposition of the man better manifested than during these trying days. Only once did he show evidences of irritation. It was upon the receipt of word from Baltimore, carried through the daily press, that his manager Mr. McCombs was indulging in patronage deals to secure blocks of delegates. Upon considering this news he immediately issued a public statement saying that no one was authorized to make any offer of a Cabinet post for him and that those who had done so were acting without authority from him. This caused a flurry in the ranks of our friends in Baltimore and the statement was the subject of heated discussion between the Governor and Mr. McCombs over the telephone. Of course, I did not hear what was said at the other end of the wire, but I remember that the Governor said: "I am sorry, McCombs, but my statement must stand as I have issued it. There must be no conditions whatever attached to the nomination." And there the conversation ended. While this colloquy took place I was seated just outside of the telephone booth. When the Governor came out he told me of the talk he had had with McCombs, and that their principal discussion was the attempt by McCombs and his friends at Baltimore to exact from him a promise that in case of his nomination William Jennings Bryan should not be named for the post of Secretary of State; that a great deal in the way of delegates' votes from the Eastern states depended upon his giving this promise. The Governor then said to me: "I will not bargain for this office. It would be foolish for me at this time to decide upon a Cabinet officer, and it would be outrageous to eliminate anybody from consideration now, particularly Mr. Bryan, who has rendered such fine service to the party in all seasons."
The candidacy of the New Jersey Governor gained with each ballot—only slightly, however—but he was the only candidate who showed an increased vote at each stage of the Convention proceedings. The critical period was reached on Thursday night. In the early afternoon we had received intimations from Baltimore that on that night the New York delegation would throw its support to Champ Clark, and our friends at Baltimore were afraid that if this purpose was carried out it would result in a stampede to Clark. We discussed the possibilities of the situation that night after dinner, but up to ten o'clock, when the Governor retired for the night, New York was still voting for Harmon. I left the Sea Girt cottage and went out to the newspaper men's tent to await word from Baltimore. The telegrapher in charge of the Associated Press wire was a devoted friend and admirer of the New Jersey candidate. There was no one in the tent but the telegrapher and myself. Everything was quiet. Suddenly the telegraph instrument began to register. The operator looked up from the instrument, and I could tell from his expression that something big was coming. He took his pad and quickly began to record the message. In a tone of voice that indicated its seriousness, he read to me the following message: "New York casts its seventy-six votes for Champ Clark. Great demonstration on." And then the instrument stopped recording. It looked as if the "jig was up." Frankly, I almost collapsed at the news. I had been up for many nights and had had only a few hours' sleep. I left the tent, almost in despair, about eleven o'clock, and returned to the Sea Girt cottage, preparatory to going to my home at Avon, New Jersey. As I was leaving the cottage the Governor appeared at one of the upper windows, clad in his pajamas, and looking at me in the most serious way, said: "Tumulty, is there any news from Baltimore?" I replied: "Nothing new, Governor." When we were breakfasting together the next morning, he laughingly said to me: "You thought you could fool me last night when I asked if there was any word from Baltimore; but I could tell from the serious expression on your face that something had gone wrong." This was about the first evidence of real interest he had shown in the Baltimore proceedings.
As will be recalled, the thing that prevented Champ Clark from gathering the full benefit which would have come to him from the casting of the New York vote in his favour was a question by "Alfalfa Bill" Murray, a delegate from Oklahoma. He said: "Is this convention going to surrender its leadership to the Tammany Tiger?" This stemmed the tide toward Mr. Clark, and changed the whole face of the Convention.
It was evident that on Friday night the deadlock stage of the Convention had been finally reached. The Wilson vote had risen to 354, and there remained without perceptible change. It began to look as if the candidacy of the New Jersey Governor had reached its full strength. The frantic efforts of the Wilson men to win additional votes were unavailing. Indeed, Wilson's case appeared to be hopeless. On Saturday morning, McCombs telephoned Sea Girt and asked for the Governor. The Governor took up the 'phone and for a long time listened intently to what was being said at the other end. I afterward learned that McCombs had conveyed word to the Governor that his case was hopeless and that it was useless to continue the fight, and asked for instructions. Whereupon, the following conversation took place in my presence: "So, McCombs, you feel it is hopeless to make further endeavours?" When McCombs asked the Governor if he would instruct his friends to support Mr. Underwood, Mr. Wilson said: "No, that would not be fair. I ought not to try to influence my friends in behalf of another candidate. They have been mighty loyal and kind to me. Please say to them how greatly I appreciate their generous support and that they are now free to support any candidate they choose."
In the room at the time of this conversation between McCombs and the NewJersey Governor sat Mrs. Wilson and myself. When the Governor said toMcCombs, "So you think it is hopeless?" great tears stood in the eyes ofMrs. Wilson, and as the Governor put down the telephone, she walked overto him and in the most tender way put her arms around his neck, saying:
"My dear Woodrow, I am sorry, indeed, that you have failed." Looking at her, with a smile that carried no evidence of the disappointment or chagrin he felt at the news he had just received, he said: "My dear, of course I am disappointed, but we must not complain. We must be sportsmen. After all, it is God's will, and I feel that a great load has been lifted from my shoulders." With a smile he remarked that this failure would make it possible for them, when his term as Governor of New Jersey was completed, to go for a vacation to the English Lake country—a region loved by them both, where they had previously spent happy summers. Turning to me, he asked for a pencil and pad and informed me that he would prepare a message of congratulation to Champ Clark, saying as he left the room: "Champ Clark will be nominated and I will give you the message in a few minutes."
I afterward learned that McCombs was about to release the delegates whenRoger Sullivan, who had been informed of McCombs' message to the NewJersey Governor, rushed over to McCombs and said to him, "Damn you, don'tyou do that. Sit steady in the boat."
This is the true story of the occurrence so strangely distorted by Mr. McCombs in the book he left for publication after his death, wherein he would make it appear that Governor Wilson had got in a panic and tried to withdraw from the race; whereas the panic was all in the troubled breast of Mr. McCombs, a physically frail, morally timid person, constitutionally unfit for the task of conducting such a fight as was being waged in Baltimore. More sturdy friends of Governor Wilson at the Convention were busy trying to brace up the halting manager and persuade him to continue the fight, even against the desperate odds that faced them. But for these stronger natures, among whom were old Roger Sullivan of Illinois and W. G. McAdoo, the battle would have been lost.
The message of congratulation to Champ Clark was prepared and ready to be put on the wire for transmission to him when the Baltimore Convention assembled again on Saturday, June 29, 1912. I had argued with the Governor that despite what McCombs had said to him over the 'phone on the previous day I felt that there was still a great deal of latent strength in the Wilson forces in the Convention which was ready to jump into action as soon as it appeared that Champ Clark's case was hopeless. The first ballot on Saturday gave weight to my view, for upon that ballot Wilson gained fifteen or twenty votes, which injected new hope into our forces in the Convention. From that time on Wilson steadily moved forward, and then came Bryan's resolutions, opposing any candidate who received the support of the "privilege-hunting" class, and attempting the expulsion of a certain Eastern group from the Convention. Pandemonium reigned in the Convention Hall, but the vote upon the resolutions themselves showed the temper of the delegates. This made the Clark nomination hopeless. Bryan's role as an exponent of outraged public opinion and as a master of great conventions was superbly played. When he finally threw his tremendous influence to Wilson, the struggle was over. Indiana jumped to Wilson, then Illinois, and the fight was won. Wilson received the necessary two-third vote and was proclaimed the candidate.
The progressive element of the Democratic party had triumphed after a long, stubborn fight by what at first was a minority in the Convention for enlightened progressivism, with Woodrow Wilson as the standard bearer. To those like myself far away from the Convention there was the sense of a great issue at stake at Baltimore. One old gentleman who visited Sea Girt after the Convention compared the stand of the Liberals in the Convention to the handful at Thermopylae; others compared their heroic determination to the struggle of Garibaldi and his troops. To the outside world it was plain that a great battle for the right was being waged at Baltimore, under the inspiration of a new leadership. At times it appeared that the raw Wilson recruits would have to surrender, that they could not withstand the smashing blows delivered by the trained army which the Conservatives had mobilized. But they stood firm, for there was in the ranks of the Liberal group in the Baltimore Convention an unconquerable spirit, akin to that of the Crusaders, and a leadership of ardent men who were convinced that they were fighting, not merely for a man but for a principle which this man symbolized. Among these were men like W. G. McAdoo of New York, A. Mitchell Palmer, Joseph Guffey, and Vance McCormick of Pennsylvania, Senator "Billy" Hughes of New Jersey, and Angus McLean of North Carolina.
Although the Wilson forces were largely made up of "new" men, some of whom had never before been actively interested in politics, comparatively young men like McAdoo, Palmer, McCormick, McLean, Guffey, and old men like Judge Westcott of New Jersey, yet they were drawn to the light that had dawned in New Jersey and were eager and anxious to have that light of inspired leadership given to the nation. Judge Westcott fired the Convention with his eloquence and brought showers of applause when he quoted at length from a speech Mr. Wilson had made when president of Princeton, and for which he had been hissed, lampooned, and derided by the Princeton opposition. Judge Westcott said:
Men are known by what they say and do. Men are known by those who hate them and those who oppose them. Many years ago the great executive of New Jersey said: "No man is great who thinks himself so, and no man is good who does not strive to secure the happiness and comfort of others." This is the secret of his life. This is, in the last analysis, the explanation of his power. Later, in his memorable effort to retain high scholarship and simple democracy in Princeton University, he declared: "The great voice of America does not come from seats of learning. It comes in a murmur from the hills and woods, and the farms and factories and the mills, rolling on and gaining volume until it comes to us from the homes of common men. Do these murmurs echo in the corridors of our universities? I have not heard them." A clarion call to the spirit that now moves America. Still later he shouted: "I will not cry peace so long as social injustice and political wrong exist in the state of New Jersey." Here is the very soul of the silent revolution now solidifying sentiment and purpose in our common country.
Men in the Convention, overwhelmed with the emotion of the great hour and the vindication of the bold liberal, Woodrow Wilson, bowed their heads and sobbed aloud. The "amateurs" of that convention had met the onslaughts of the Old Guard and had won, and thus was brought about, through their efforts, their courage, and their devotion, the dawn of a new day in the politics of the nation.