THE CONVENTION AT PHILADELPHIA--THEODORE ROOSEVELT SECONDS THE
NOMINATION OF PRESIDENT MCKINLEY--BECOMES CANDIDATE FOR THE
VICE-PRESIDENCY--REMARKABLE TOURS THROUGH MANY STATES
As the time came on to nominate parties for the office of President and
Vice-President of the United States, in 1900, there was considerable
speculation in the Republican party regarding who should be chosen for
the second name on the ticket.
It was felt by everybody that President McKinley had honestly earned a
second term, not alone by his management of the war with Spain, but also
because of his stand touching the rebellion in the Philippines, and on
other matters of equal importance.
About the Vice-Presidency the political managers were not so sure, and
they mentioned several names. But in the hearts of the people there was
but one name, and that was Theodore Roosevelt.
"We must have him," was heard upon every side. "He will be just the
right man in the right place. He will give to the office an importance
never before attached to it, and an importance which it deserves."
Personally, Governor Roosevelt did not wish this added honor. As the
Executive of the greatest State in our Union, he had started great
reforms, and he wanted to finish them.
"My work is here," he said to many. "Let me do what I have been called
to do, and then I will again be at the service of the whole nation once
more."
The National Republican Convention met in Philadelphia, June 19, in
Exposition Hall, beautifully decorated with flags and banners. Senator
Mark Hanna, President McKinley's warmest personal friend, was chairman,
and the delegates, numbering over seven hundred, came, as usual at such
conventions, from every State in the Union. Governor Roosevelt himself
was a delegate, and sat near the middle aisle, five or six seats from
the front. He was recognized by everybody, and it is safe to say that
he was the most conspicuous figure at the convention.
Up to the last minute many of the political leaders were, in a measure,
afraid of Theodore Roosevelt. They understood his immense popularity,
and were afraid that the convention might be "stampeded" in his favor.
"If they once start to yell for Roosevelt, it will be good-by to
everybody else," said one old politician. "They are just crazy after the
leader of the Rough Riders."
But this man did not understand the stern moral honesty of the man under
consideration. Roosevelt believed in upholding William McKinley, and had
said so, and it was no more possible for him to seek the Presidential
nomination by an underhanded trick than it was for President McKinley to
do an equally base thing when he was asked to allow his name to be
mentioned at the time he had pledged himself to support John Sherman.[2]
Both men were of equal loyalty, and the word of each was as good as his
bond.
[Footnote 2: See "American Boys' Life of William McKinley," p. 191.]
It was Senator Foraker who put up President McKinley for nomination, and
the vigorous cheering at that time will never be forgotten. Fifteen
thousand throats yelled themselves hoarse, and then broke into the
ringing words and music of "The Union Forever!" in a manner that made
the very convention hall tremble. Then came cries for Roosevelt, "For
our own Teddy of the Rough Riders!" and, written speech in hand, he
arose amid that vast multitude to second the candidacy of William
McKinley. Not once did he look at the paper he held in his hand, but
with a force that could not be misunderstood he addressed the
assemblage.
"I rise to second the nomination of William McKinley, because with him
as a leader this people has trod the path of national greatness and
prosperity with the strides of a giant," said he, "and because under him
we can and will succeed in the election. Exactly as in the past we have
remedied the evils which we undertook to remedy, so now when we say that
a wrong shall be righted, it most assuredly will be righted.
"We stand on the threshold of a new century, a century big with the
fate of the great nations of the earth. It rests with us to decide now
whether in the opening years of that century we shall march forward to
fresh triumphs, or whether at the outset we shall deliberately cripple
ourselves for the contest."
His speech was the signal for another burst of applause, and when
finally Theodore Roosevelt was named as the candidate for
Vice-President, the crowd yelled until it could yell no longer, while
many sang "Yankee Doodle" and other more or less patriotic airs, keeping
time with canes and flag-sticks. When the vote was cast, only one
delegate failed to vote for Theodore Roosevelt, and that was Theodore
Roosevelt himself.
The platform of the party was largely a repetition of the platform of
four years before. Again the cry was for "sound money," and for the
continuance of President McKinley's policy in the Philippines.
The campaign which followed was truly a strenuous one--to use a favorite
word of the candidate. President McKinley decided not to make many
speeches, and thus the hard work previous to election day fell upon
Theodore Roosevelt.
He did not shirk the task. As with everything he undertook, he entered
into the campaign with vigor, resolved to deserve success even if he did
not win it.
"I will do my best in the interests of our party, and for the benefit of
the people at large," said Theodore Roosevelt. "No man can do more than
that."
In the few short months between the time when he was nominated and when
the election was held, Governor Roosevelt travelled over 20,000 miles by
rail, visiting nearly 600 towns, and addressing, on a rough estimate,
fully 3,000,000 of people! In that time he delivered 673 speeches, some
of them half an hour and some an hour in length.
In his thousands of miles of travel the candidate for the
Vice-Presidency visited many States, particularly those lying between
New York and Colorado. At nearly every town he was greeted by an immense
crowd, all anxious to do the leader of the Rough Riders honor. In the
large cities great banquets were held, and he was shown much respect
and consideration. In many places those who had fought under him came to
see and listen to him, and these meetings were of especial pleasure.
Often he would see an old Rough Rider hanging back in the crowd, and
would call him to the front or do his best to reach the ex-soldier and
shake him by the hand.
One occurrence is worthy of special mention. The Democratic party had
nominated William Jennings Bryan as their candidate for President. There
was a great labor picnic and demonstration at Chicago, and both Governor
Roosevelt and Mr. Bryan were invited to speak.
"You had better not accept, governor," said some friends to Theodore
Roosevelt. "There may be trouble."
"I am not afraid," answered the former leader of the Rough Riders.
"But Mr. Bryan and yourself are to be there at practically the same
time."
"That does not matter," said the governor. And he went to Chicago on
September 3, to attend the Labor Day celebrations. The picnic was held
at Electric Park, and in the presence of fifteen thousand people
Governor Roosevelt and Mr. Bryan "buried the hatchet" for the time
being, and spoke to those surrounding them on the dignity of labor and
the duties of the laboring man to better himself and his social
conditions. In that motley collection of people there were frequent
cries of "Hurrah for Teddy!" and "What's the matter with Bryan? He's all
right!" but there was no disturbance, and each speaker was listened to
with respectful attention from start to finish. It was without a doubt a
meeting to show true American liberty and free speech at its best.
But all of the stops on his tours were not so pleasant to Governor
Roosevelt. In every community there are those who are low-bred and bound
to make an exhibition of their baseness. At Waverly, New York, a stone
was flung at him through the car window, breaking the glass but missing
the candidate for whom it was intended. At once there was excitement.
"Are you hurt, Governor?" was the question asked.
"No," returned Theodore Roosevelt. And then he added, with a faint
smile, "It's only a bouquet, but I wish, after this, they wouldn't make
them quite so hard."
There was also a demonstration against the candidate at Haverstraw, New
York, which threatened for a while to break up an intended meeting. But
the worst rowdyism was encountered at Victor, a small town in Colorado,
near the well-known mining centre of Cripple Creek. Victor was full of
miners who wanted not "sound money," but "free silver," for free silver,
so styled, meant a great booming of silver mining.
"We don't want him here," said these miners. "We have heard enough about
him and his gold standard. He had better keep away, or he'll regret it."
When Theodore Roosevelt was told he might have trouble in the mining
camps, he merely shrugged his shoulders.
"I know these men," he said. "The most of them are as honest and
respectable as the citizens of New York. I am not afraid of the vicious
element. The better class are bound to see fair play."
The governor spoke at a place called Armory Hall, and the auditorium was
packed. He had just begun his speech when there was a wild yelling and
cat-calling, all calculated to drown him out. He waited for a minute,
and then, as the noise subsided, tried to go on once more, when a voice
cried out:--
"What about rotten beef?" referring to the beef furnished during the
Santiago campaign, which had, of course, come through a Republican
Commissary Department.
"I ate that beef," answered the governor, quickly. And then he added to
the fellow who had thus questioned him: "You will never get near enough
to be hit with a bullet, or within five miles of it." At this many burst
into applause, and the man, who was a coward at heart, sneaked from the
hall in a hurry. He was no soldier and had never suffered the hardships
of any campaign, and many hooted him as he deserved.
But the trouble was not yet over. Theodore Roosevelt finished his
address, and then started to leave the hall in company with a number of
his friends. On the way to the train a crowd of rowdies followed the
candidate's party, and threw all sorts of things at them. One man made a
personal attack on the governor and hit him on the chest with a stick.
He tried to leap away, but was knocked down by a personal friend of
Theodore Roosevelt.
"Down with the gold bugs!" was the cry, and the violence of the mob
increased. The friends of Governor Roosevelt rallied to his support, and
blows were given and taken freely. But with it all the candidate reached
his train in safety, and in a few minutes more had left the town far
behind. He was not much disturbed, and the very next day went on with
his speech-making as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The
better classes of citizens of Victor were much disturbed over the
happening, and they sent many regrets to Governor Roosevelt, assuring
him that such a demonstration would never again be permitted to occur.