THE PROGRESSIVES
The Progressive spirit is kindled and shaped into a cause--My
speech at the banquet of the New York Chamber of Commerce in
1910--Roosevelt's hostility to boss rule--Liberals impatient with
Taft Administration--Governors demand Roosevelt--He advocates
recall of judicial decisions--This stand believed to have caused
his defeat--New York State Progressive Convention is
deadlocked--"Suspender Jack" nominates me for Governor and
stampedes convention--I decline to consider Republican
nomination--Sulzer's "non-Jewish but pro-Jewish" slogan--I stump
the State--Bainbridge Colby "impersonates" me--Roosevelt, shot by a
lunatic, heroically addresses Milwaukee mass meeting--I am needed
in national campaign--The dramatic Roosevelt speech in Madison
Square Garden--His tribute to me--Election returns--Progressives
poorly organized--Their cause a crusade.
In the torrential flood of American politics, two main currents are
continuously perceptible. There are, of course, innumerable permanent
and temporary cross-currents, eddies, and other variations, but the two
main currents are ever present. One may be generally described as
professional, mechanical, and ruled by the accomplished and consummate
selfishness of invisible forces. The other, while more genuine in
spirit, is often amateurish in effort; it is more spontaneous; it is
kindled by emotions of revolt; it sees mankind not as masses to be
exploited, and profited by, but as individuals to be set freer to
express themselves socially and economically. It strives to restate the
better aspirations of men generally, and to mitigate some of the
pressure that civilization imposes upon them.
It is not the province of the historian to moralize. It is his business
to trace the changing currents of human thought and to produce accurate
pictures of men in action. And so, in touching on the Progressives, I
shall endeavor to give some indication of the mental processes that
shaped their cause, and to depict some of the dramatic scenes that
carried their cause into action. Many of these scenes I was able to
observe closely. In a sense, I may have figured more definitely than I
realized at the time, in kindling their cause into smoke and flame.
On November 17, 1910, the New York Chamber of Commerce held its one
hundred and forty-second annual banquet at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.
The speakers were Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, of Massachusetts; Governor
Horace White, of New York; Mayor William J. Gaynor, of New York City;
and myself. The president of the Chamber, the late A. Barton Hepburn,
presided. My subject was "American Prestige," and I could not refrain
from referring to the great extent to which American influence and
prestige had been advanced by Roosevelt, both as President and during
his tour through Europe. There was instant and prolonged applause at the
mention of Roosevelt's name, clearly showing that his political
influence was not dead, contrary to the ideas of many who thought so
because the election of a few days before had shown sweeping Democratic
gains and the defeat of Roosevelt's candidate for Governor, Henry L.
Stimson. When the banquet was over, Senator Lodge said to me that if the
political opponents of Roosevelt could have seen the enthusiasm with
which his name was applauded, they would realize that even in New York
he was as much alive as ever.
When I had met Roosevelt in Cairo on his way back from Africa, we had
talked frequently about politics at home. It was clear to me from his
conversation that he did not propose to be enticed or forced into
accepting any nomination, although there was talk, yes, I may say a
demand, that he reenter public life as either Governor of New York or
United States Senator.
Roosevelt was so loyal a Republican that his opponents constantly chided
him for going along with the bosses, like Senator Platt, for instance,
and at the same time advocating reforms. He used to reply that he did
and would continue to cooperate with the bosses so long as they went his
way. His aim from the time he entered public life as a member of the New
York State Assembly was to make the party always more responsive to its
highest ideals; and from the beginning he worked against the "invisible
powers" or boss rule. By word and deed all through his life he showed an
independence and moral courage that careless observers might often have
mistaken for headlong impetuosity. No one could know him without
recognizing that he was broad-minded, liberal, and inherently
progressive.
When he arrived home from abroad in June, 1910, he found the Republican
Party disrupted. The dissatisfaction and impatience of the liberals was
distinctly evident. By 1912 Taft had allowed himself to become so
thoroughly identified with the reactionaries that the large independent
element had not only become unenthusiastic, but decidedly hostile to the
Administration. In his Winona speech President Taft had ranked himself
on the side of those leaders in the party who opposed real tariff
reform. In his famous Norton letter he had even gone so far as to imply,
if not to expressly admit, that federal Patronage had been used against
the Progressives in Congress.
The Progressive element both in and out of Congress was therefore
casting about for a candidate who represented the liberal wing of the
party, for nomination at the National Republican Convention at Chicago
in June. Roosevelt's office at "The Outlook" was daily crowded with
liberal leaders who had come to consult with him and to urge him to
"throw his hat in the ring," to use one of Roosevelt's own picturesque
expressions. This demand grew and spread until finally came the
following appeal from the Governors of the States of Kansas, Michigan,
Missouri, Nebraska, New Hampshire, West Virginia, and Wyoming:
We feel that you will be unresponsive to a plain public duty if you
decline to accept the nomination coming as the voluntary expression
of the wishes of a majority of the Republican voters of the United
States through the action of their delegates in the next National
Convention.
To this message Roosevelt replied:
One of the chief principles for which I have stood and for which I
now stand, and which I have always endeavoured and always shall
endeavour to reduce to action, is the genuine rule of the people;
and, therefore, I hope that so far as possible the people may be
given the chance, through direct primaries, to express their
preference as to who shall be the nominee of the Republican
Presidential Convention.
During this period I called on Roosevelt one day at the offices of "The
Outlook," and he handed me the galley-proof of a speech he was to make
before the Constitutional Convention at Columbus, Ohio. He called it
"The Charter of Democracy." His room was full of callers, so I went into
Dr. Abbott's office and there carefully read the speech. In it Roosevelt
advocated, among other reforms such as the short ballot and the
initiative and referendum, the recall of judicial decisions. When I came
to that subject I confess I was shocked, and so expressed myself to one
of the editors of "The Outlook"; as I remember it, it was Dr. Abbott
himself. Compelled to keep another appointment, I left the office when I
had finished reading the speech, saying that I should return later.
Upon my return I met Roosevelt just as he was going out to keep an
engagement.
"I hear you don't like my speech," he said to me.
"I like your speech; I think it is fine; all but that portion of it
which refers to the recall of judicial decisions," I answered. I started
to give my reasons, but seeing that he was pressed for time, I said: "I
should like to discuss that matter with you, provided your mind is open
on the subject." To my great surprise he said that he had thought the
subject over very carefully, and frankly told me that he had come to a
definite decision on it.
That was so unlike the Roosevelt I knew in the many discussions I had
had with him, when invariably I found his mind responsive, that I was
quite disappointed and somewhat taken back. But I did not want him to
feel that I had joined the ranks of the many who had parted political
company with him because he had made it known that he would accept
another nomination for President, and so, on reaching my office, I wrote
him a letter, briefly explaining why I objected to his statements
regarding the recall of judicial decisions. I assured him that on that
account I did not part from him politically, for after all I agreed with
him more than with any other candidate who might possibly be named.
The birth and development of the Progressive Party is, of course, an
element of national history that has often been detailed. William Draper
Lewis, in his "Life of Theodore Roosevelt," and Lawrence F. Abbott, in
his "Impressions of Theodore Roosevelt," both give clear accounts of it.
Roosevelt's candidacy and defeat have been variously analyzed, but I
believe now, as I believed in 1912, that but for this unfortunate
statement regarding judicial decisions, Roosevelt would have been
re-elected President in 1912. It is true that he afterwards clarified
the meaning of his use of the word "recall"; that its application was
limited to such decisions as held legislative acts unconstitutional, and
that such decisions might at the following election be submitted to
popular vote, in accordance with the method employed by a State for the
adoption of its constitution. But his clarification never overcame the
effects of the Columbus speech. William Draper Lewis, who was one of
Roosevelt's closest advisers at the time, says in his biography:
Looking back now over the events leading up to the Republican
National Convention of 1912, it would appear almost certain that
had he, in his address before the Ohio Convention, either refrained
from making the proposal or had he called it a new method of
amending the constitution, and carefully explained it so that it
could not have been misunderstood, it is most probable that he
would have been nominated at Chicago, and that the whole course of
the recent history of the United States would have been other than
it has been.
[Illustration: NATHAN, OSCAR, AND ISIDOR STRAUS
1912]
Shortly after the Columbus speech, Roosevelt delivered, on March 20,
1912, at Carnegie Hall, New York, what was in many respects the most
forceful and eloquent address I ever heard him make. He graphically
described his dedication to his ideals of democracy:
Our task as Americans is to strive for social and industrial
justice, achieved through the genuine rule of the people. This is
our end, our purpose. The methods for achieving the end are merely
expedients, to be finally accepted or rejected according as actual
experience shows that they work well or ill. But in our hearts we
must have this lofty purpose, and we must strive for it in all
earnestness and sincerity, or our work will come to nothing. In
order to succeed, we need leaders of inspired idealism, leaders to
whom are granted great visions, who dream greatly and strive to
make their dreams come true; who can kindle the people with the
fire from their own burning souls.
The leader for the time being, whoever he may be, is but an
instrument, to be used until broken and then to be cast aside; and
if he is worth his salt, he will care no more when he is broken
than a soldier cares when he is sent where his life is forfeit in
order that the victory may be won.
If on this new continent we merely build another country of great
but unjustly divided material prosperity, we shall have done
nothing; and we shall do as little if we merely set the greed of
envy against the greed of arrogance, and thereby destroy the
material well-being of all of us. To turn this government into
government by plutocracy or government by a mob would be to repeat
on a larger scale the lamentable failures of the world that is
dead. We stand against all tyranny, by the few or by the many. We
stand for the rule of the many in the interest of all of us, for
the rule of the many in the spirit of courage, of common sense, of
high purpose, above all, in a spirit of kindly justice towards
every man and every woman.
A month after the meeting of the National Convention of the Progressive
Party, popularly called the "Bull Moose Convention," which nominated
Theodore Roosevelt for President and Hiram W. Johnson for
Vice-President, the New York State Convention of the Progressive Party
met at Syracuse, in the Arena. The convention met on September 5th.
All during the first day and night, amid lively discussion as to the
selection of candidates for Governor, committees urged me for permission
to present my name as a candidate; but I steadfastly declined, since the
governorship, being so largely a political office, did not appeal to me.
I was neither by training nor by temperament a politician, although I
had taken active part in campaigns for many years, both local and
national. The next day I was asked to take the permanent chairmanship of
the convention. This I was willing and glad to do; I wanted to be of
service to the party; also it was a foregone conclusion that acceptance
of the chairmanship would preclude my being considered a candidate for
the nomination for Governor.
The Arena was filled with about seven thousand delegates and members of
the new Progressive Party. The air was surcharged with the spirit of the
new movement--the genuine enthusiasm of men and women of character and
standing from every county in the State, and among them a great many
ministers, professors, reformers, and leaders of benevolent and
charitable movements. There was a conspicuous absence of the
professional politician. Indeed, that convention had more the character
of a town meeting than of a cut-and-dried political convention. Instead
of having decisions made for them, this great body of enthusiasts were
called upon to make their own. The candidates had not even been agreed
upon.
On September 6th I took my gavel in hand and called the meeting to
order. The first business before the convention was the nomination of a
candidate for Governor. The secretary called the counties of the State
in alphabetical order, and the chairman of each delegation made his
nomination. The outstanding candidates for nomination were William H.
Hotchkiss, one of the organizers of the Progressive Party and chairman
of the National Committee, and William A. Prendergast, comptroller of
the City of New York, who had made the speech nominating Roosevelt for
President at the Chicago Convention. A deadlock between these two
candidates ensued.
After Yates County had been heard from, a tall, gaunt young man towered
to his feet and asked to be heard; he was from the Fifteenth Manhattan
District, and he had a nomination to make. It was not quite in order,
though the spirit of the convention was to give each man a chance. While
I was hesitating about recognizing him, there seemed to be a general
desire that he be given an opportunity to speak, so I gave him five
minutes.
He looked fantastic as he strode to the platform and faced the audience.
His manner was somewhat bizarre. He burst forth in dramatic fashion as
follows:
Fellow citizens, ladies and gentlemen: I have just come down from
Vermont. I ask you people at this convention to make no mistake.
We want to put a man up for Governor that no man will be afraid to
cast his vote for, against whom there can be no charge leveled of
misconduct of any kind, one who can sweep the State from Montauk
Point to Lake Erie, and carry every man of every race, religion,
and creed; a man whose name is known throughout the civilized
world; a man the mention of whose name brings a tear of sympathy to
the eye of almost every man and woman in the civilized land; a man
whose name, wherever men are found with red blood in their veins,
irrespective of race, religion, and creed, will be carried
thundering throughout the State to victory.
There is no chance for defeat with this man at the head of the
ticket--
"Who is your candidate?" cried impatient listeners.
"What's his name?"
"Name your candidate!"
In sudden answer to these cries from the convention, the speaker
exclaimed:
I nominate the illustrious and honorable Oscar S. Straus.
During the long, terrific applause that followed, the delegate stood
awkwardly waiting for a chance to finish. Finally he went on:
We should take no chances in this fight. I could not say one
undeserved word if I used the entire dictionary in praise of the
other nominees, Mr. Hotchkiss and Mr. Prendergast; but, gentlemen,
Mr. Prendergast or Mr. Hotchkiss would cause friction in the State.
We want no friction in this election. We want success and victory.
Gentlemen, there is not a newspaper editor in the State of New York
that would any more assassinate the character of Oscar S. Straus
than he would assassinate the character of his own mother.
Gentlemen, remember! Remember that Rome was saved by the cackle of
geese. I have no political prestige, but I warn and charge you, put
up a man for candidate for governor who cannot and will not be
defeated.
Gentlemen, gentlemen, heed me! Make no mistake about Oscar S.
Straus. You will make no mistake in putting him up as your
candidate, and you will capture victory and success. No man has had
better distinction at home and abroad than Mr. Straus. I ask you to
vote for him.
The moment he finished, a stampede started. The entire hall assumed the
aspect of a good-natured bedlam. There was cheering and applause, and
many of the delegates began marching round that big auditorium,
brandishing the banners of their counties, singing "The Battle Hymn of
the Republic" and "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and breaking out in the
end with "Straus! Straus! We want Straus!"
I pounded the desk with the gavel, I shook my head in the negative, but
to no avail. The noise lasted fully twenty minutes.
The picturesque young man who had precipitated this scene was John G.
McGee, known among his colleagues as "Suspender Jack." He had been a
member of the mounted police of New York City.
Meanwhile Mr. Hotchkiss and several other leaders came to the platform
and insisted upon my accepting. They even brought Mrs. Straus up with
the hope of getting her to exert her persuasive powers. There was no
alternative; I had to accept.
Mr. Hotchkiss announced my acceptance, and immediately former
Lieutenant-Governor Timothy L. Woodruff announced the withdrawal of Mr.
Prendergast and moved to make the nomination unanimous by acclamation.
That produced more shouting and cheering, accompanied by much applause
and the waving of banners. It was a touching manifestation and an
unexpected honor. I made a brief speech of acceptance, during which I
found it difficult to hide the effect of all this demonstration. And
with more applause and cheering, the session closed with the singing of
"The Star-Spangled Banner."
The next morning the convention named for Lieutenant-Governor Frederick
M. Davenport, who was Professor of Law and Politics at Hamilton College
and had made an admirable record in the State Legislature. The ticket
was then quickly completed and the convention closed.
The nominations were received with great favor all through the State and
in the press. Roosevelt at the time was in the Far West conducting his
own campaign, and wrote me from Spokane as follows:
THE SPOKANE
SPOKANE, WASHINGTON
_September 8, 1912_
DEAR STRAUS:
When I left New York I had expected Prendergast to be nominated and
there were certain reasons, which I think you know, why I felt
that, as a matter of principle, his nomination should be made.
But there was a still further principle involved, and that was that
in this Convention the people should have their own way; and, upon
my word, I am inclined to think that it was a new illustration of
the fact that the wisdom of _all_ of us is better than the wisdom
of any of us. Having in view the effect, not only in New York but
the country at large, I think that your nomination stands second
only to that of Hiram Johnson as Vice-President, from the
standpoint of strengthening the ticket. If the only result of the
next election were to place you in as Governor of New York, I
should be inclined to think that the Progressive Party had
justified itself.
My dear fellow, I am overjoyed; I congratulate you with all my
heart. Give my love to dear Mrs. Straus and to Roger and your two
daughters and all the grandchildren.
Ever yours
THEODORE ROOSEVELT
A few days thereafter he gave out the following interview:
Next in importance to the nomination of the Vice-President is the
nomination for Governor of New York. And it seems to me that Hiram
Johnson and Oscar Straus symbolize what this movement stands for.
One is an ex-Republican, the other an ex-Democrat; they both stand
for what is highest in American citizenship.
Mr. Straus is not merely a high-minded and able man, a man of
incorruptible integrity and great ability, but also a man who has
kept abreast of the great movement from which sprang the
Progressive Party. He is eminently fitted to be one of the leaders
in this movement. On every point of our platform he represents an
intense earnestness of conviction for all the things for which we
stand. His attitude toward business, his attitude toward the
complicated, and the vitally important social and economic problems
which are dealt with in our plank concerning social and industrial
justice; in short, his whole position on governmental matters has
been such as to warrant our saying that he is already in practice
applying the very principles which we preach.
New York State has a right to be proud of the fact that in this
first State Convention of the people themselves Mr. Straus's
nomination was, in the most emphatic sense, a nomination by the
people themselves, a nomination representing the desire of the
people to have the very best man take the office, although that man
was himself sincerely desirous to escape having to take it.
I have known Mr. Straus intimately ever since I was Governor of New
York. When he was in my Cabinet I leaned much upon him, and a more
loyal and disinterested friend no man could have, and, what is
more important, no man could have a more loyal, disinterested, and
sanely zealous supporter. As head of the Department of Commerce and
Labor Mr. Straus himself, by study and administration of the law,
was one of those who reached conclusions as to the needs of our
handling of the anti-trust and interstate commerce and similar
laws, which I set forth in message after message to Congress, and
which were substantially embodied in the Progressive platform; and
in his attitude toward labor, toward immigration, toward the duty
both of public and private employees, he foreshadowed that part of
the Progressive platform which has dealt with these same matters.
Moreover, by his disinterestedness, his unselfish devotion to the
cause of good government and of sound progressive doctrine for
economic and social reform, and by his willingness personally to
sacrifice his own interests to those of the cause he espouses, he
is, I am happy to say, typical of all men who are in the new
movement.
Exactly as it is a real sacrifice for Hiram Johnson to accept the
nomination for Vice-President, so it is a real sacrifice for Oscar
Straus to accept the nomination for Governor of New York. Each has
accepted because he is not thinking of himself. He is thinking of
his duty to the people as a whole; of his duty to the great Nation
to which he belongs. Oscar Straus's nomination is not only a most
fortunate thing for the New York Progressives, but it is also a
piece of real good fortune for the Progressive movement throughout
this Nation.
When the Republicans had their convention at Saratoga a short while
after my nomination at Syracuse, several of their prominent State
leaders telegraphed me to inquire whether I would accept the Republican
nomination. They feared that with three candidates in the field the
State would go Democratic. One of my managers favored my acceptance,
which would without doubt have meant election. But my chief adviser,
Chairman Hotchkiss, agreed with me that my accepting the Republican
nomination, without the endorsement by the Republicans of the
Progressive platform, would destroy the Progressive Party in the State,
if not throughout the country. I therefore sent an immediate reply that
while I should welcome the support of any group or party that chose to
give it, I could not accept a nomination that did not mean an
endorsement and acceptance of the platform on which I stood. On hearing
of this, Roosevelt telegraphed me from Memphis: "Three cheers for you.
You are a perfect trump and you always do the right thing."
The Republican candidate was Job E. Hedges, a brilliant member of the
New York Bar. The Democrats nominated William Sulzer, and Tammany Hall
sanctioned the selection because he was considered a good opponent who
would attract the Jewish vote. But our politicians make no greater
mistake than to believe that there is such a thing as a Jewish group
vote. Of course, a candidate who by word or action has shown prejudice
against or hostility toward the Jews could not expect their suffrage;
but beyond that the Jews are not controllable as a group at the polls.
However, as chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs of the House,
Sulzer had taken a prominent part in the abrogation of our treaty with
Russia, and during the campaign the slogan, "non-Jewish but pro-Jewish,"
was designed to bring him the support of the mass of Jewish voters in
addition to the regular Democratic vote.
* * * * *
On the whole the campaign was conducted with dignity on all sides. There
was a noticeable absence of vilification of candidates and general
mud-slinging between the camps, as is too often the case in keenly
contested elections. My campaign managers arranged for me to make
addresses in every county and almost every city throughout the State. I
had a special car in which traveled, besides Mr. Davenport, my wife and
me, and several other speakers, a dozen or more reporters from the
leading papers.
I made my first speech in Getty Square, Yonkers, and from there I
traveled for seven weeks, making ten to fifteen speeches every day
except Sundays, including short talks at stations and from the rear
platform of my car. Sometimes I made speeches before breakfast, to
crowds that had gathered at the station, and there were always two or
three, and often more, formal addresses a day in some public hall, to
which I would be escorted from the train with a band of music, and
sometimes with a fife and drum corps, invariably playing "Onward,
Christian Soldiers." So many clergymen took part in the campaign that
frequently the meetings were opened with a prayer. Many of the meetings
were spontaneous, emphasizing the crusading spirit which was so
characteristic of the campaign.
One of my slogans was that I was the "unbossed candidate of the unbossed
people." One day up in the northern part of the State I was speaking on
a raised platform in the open, and, as usual, my time was limited by the
train schedule. A member of the committee told my wife, who was sitting
behind me, that the train would leave in a few minutes, and that it was
time for me to stop, and just as I got to the middle of the phrase,
"unbossed candidate--" she pulled my coat-tail as a signal for me to
stop. At that moment I was quite evidently not the "unbossed candidate"
that I professed to be, and the audience laughed and cheered with
amusement. I think that bit of bossing, however, did not cost me any
votes.
Mr. Davenport proved himself a most effective campaign speaker. Another
effective orator in our party for a short time was Bainbridge Colby, who
discharged with great distinction the important duties of Secretary of
State during the last year of the Wilson Administration. At Oneonta and
at one or two other places, while I was taking a much-needed rest, the
crowds had gathered and were calling for me. Mr. Colby, without being
introduced, responded for me, and the audiences were left with the
impression that they had listened to me. My cause certainly did not
suffer by my being so admirably represented, or perhaps I should say
advantageously misrepresented.
Roosevelt in the meantime had flung himself into the campaign with all
the force of his tremendous vigor and energy, and gave to it a dynamic
impulse that grew in intensity as he progressed through the country. He
went out to the Pacific Coast, returned through the Southern States to
New York City, speaking at every important center. In September he went
through New England. In October he started on his final tour through the
Middle West, and it was while on this trip that he was shot by a lunatic
just as he was leaving his hotel to make a speech in the Auditorium in
Milwaukee. The incident, tragic in itself, was made dramatic by his
heroism. With the bullet in his breast and his clothes soaked with
blood, disregarding the entreaties of his companions, he went on to the
Auditorium and spoke for more than an hour. To him nothing counted
except the triumph of the principles for which he was fighting.
In consequence of this accident the national managers had me leave the
State of New York and take up the national campaign, which I did
cheerfully. No one, of course, could fill Roosevelt's engagements, but
the plan was to rescue the cause so far as possible, and I spoke in
several of the larger cities where meetings had been scheduled for
Roosevelt, principally Chicago, Cincinnati, and Cleveland. My intense
anxiety regarding the condition of my chief during this time was greatly
relieved by assuring telegrams from Mrs. Roosevelt and his nephew,
George Emlen Roosevelt, who were both at his side.
* * * * *
Two final rallies were arranged in Madison Square Garden, New York--one
on Wednesday, October 30th, for the national ticket, and the second on
Friday, November 1st, for the State ticket. Roosevelt, though not well,
considered himself sufficiently recovered to appear. His physicians,
Doctors Lambert and Brewer, had prescribed no more campaign speeches, in
fact, did not want him to go to these meetings; but he brushed aside
their injunctions and left Oyster Bay for Madison Square.
His presence at the national rally was his first public appearance since
the shooting, and keyed-up the meeting to a high dramatic pitch. Fully
eighteen thousand persons were in the auditorium and a few thousand more
were outside clamoring for admission. When Roosevelt appeared on the
platform, a roar of applause broke loose and continued for forty-five
minutes.
Roosevelt's speech, characteristically, was confined to a plea for the
Progressive cause and for the State ticket; no word for himself. He
appeared in good form and to possess his usual vigor, although it was
observed that he did not use his right arm. His speech was earnest,
calm, and exalted, closing with what he called his political creed:
I am glad beyond measure that I am one of the many who in this
fight have stood ready to spend and be spent, pledged to fight
while life lasts the great fight for righteousness and for
brotherhood and for the welfare of mankind.
At the rally for the State ticket two nights later the crowd inside the
Garden was as large as at the national rally, though there were fewer
people outside. The enthusiasm was at the same high pitch. When I arose
to speak, the cheering began and lasted twenty-seven minutes before it
could be checked. Roosevelt was expected during the evening. His
physicians had reminded him when he started from home that he had
promised not to speak any more in the campaign, to which he humorously
replied that he had promised not to speak for himself, but that this
time he would talk for Oscar Straus and Fred Davenport and the
candidates on the judiciary ticket!
At the close of my thirty-minute address, Roosevelt appeared. The crowd
went wild, and stopped cheering only when Mr. Hotchkiss, who was
presiding, besought them to stop out of consideration for the Colonel.
Roosevelt spoke for an hour and held that vast audience in rapt
attention. He devoted the first half of his speech to outlining the
Progressive cause, its meaning and purpose, and the second half to
advocating the State ticket. He referred to my public career in terms of
unmeasured praise, beginning with my first mission to Turkey. He told
the crowd that everywhere he spoke, from the Great Lakes to the Gulf and
from the Atlantic to the Pacific, he had "found that the name of Oscar
Straus was a name with which to conjure," and that it "helped the
Progressive cause in California and in New Mexico, in Illinois and in
Kansas, that we here in New York had named such a man as our candidate
for Governor." He then gave accounts of the personal services and
qualifications of the other members of the ticket, and with this meeting
the Progressive campaign of 1912 closed with a blaze of unforgettable
enthusiasm.
On election day I received the following letter from Roosevelt:
YSTER BAY
_November 5, 1912_
DEAR OSCAR:
I count myself fortunate in having run upon the same ticket with
you and in having had the privilege of supporting you. You are the
kind of American who makes one proud of being an American; and I
wish also to say that I feel just the same way about all your
family, your dear wife, your two daughters and son. It is just such
a family, and just such a family life, as I like to think of as
typical of our citizenship at its best.
With affectionate regard and esteem
Faithfully yours
THEODORE ROOSEVELT
The Progressives, as might have been expected, had been poorly
organized. The time had been too short for intensive development of our
forces. We had no machine, and in a number of the counties there was
scarcely a skeleton of an organization. It was, in fact, not a party in
the ordinary sense of the word at all, but rather a crusade, and what we
lacked in organization we made up by an abundance of spontaneous ardor.
We did not really expect victory, although Roosevelt several times said
that while he knew he would be defeated, he thought I would be elected.
As a matter of fact, I believe I was the only candidate of the
Progressive cause for Governor in any State who ran ahead of Roosevelt.
In New York State he got 389,000 votes, in round numbers, while I had
393,000.
I knew from observations during my campaign from one end of the State to
the other, how poorly, from a political standpoint, the Progressives
were organized, and I confess I did not see the slightest chance of
being elected. I was not disappointed, and I think that the men
generally who ran for offices on the Progressive ticket were not
disappointed. They realized that their contest was waged for a cause
and not for office, and from an educational point of view the campaign
was eminently successful.
Considering the vastness of the undertaking and the shortness of the
time, we did as well as any of us could have anticipated, if not better.
We were confident that the cause would triumph, in a degree at least, no
matter what party was in power, and I think the facts amply justify our
belief that the Progressive ideals made a definite impression upon the
country, and have given strength, if not dominant influence, to
Progressive principles in both of the old parties.