CHAPTER LVIII

THE FREE SILVER CRUSADE

Except for the Venezuela episode, in which for a time the public displayed an intense and lively concern, the people generally were more interested in domestic politics than in foreign affairs. As the presidential campaign of 1896 approached, the nation was aroused as it had rarely been before. To the discontent produced by farmers' troubles, the panic, and “hard times" was added the conviction that the whole financial and industrial structure must be made over, if the traditions of American life were to be preserved. In the campaign were reflected the social and economic issues which had arisen within the preceding twenty-five years, and because of their variety and importance this "first battle," as Bryan described it, occupies a unique position in American history.

WESTERN GRIEVANCES

In the background of this electoral contest was the mass of western discontent-typified in the rise of the Populists-due partly to the rapid settlement of the newer sections, and to the consequent increase in agricultural production. The complaints of the farmers about high interest rates, high prices for manufactured goods, unfair railroad practices, and low prices for farm produce, prevalent enough before 1893, had been made sharper by the panic. With wheat at sixty-three cents or lower and cotton at six, the farmers were naturally ready for an explosion.

In addition to these specific grievances there was a widespread belief that the business men of the East with their "trusts" not only were unmindful of the public interest, but were inimical to it. "Big Business" was accused of using its wealth to control government for the promotion of its own ends. The spokesmen of the farmers were demanding protection from the menace of the great industrial and railroad combinations. Arguing, with the facts on their side, that neither the Interstate Commerce Act nor the Sherman AntiTrust Act had been of any appreciable service in checking the evils

"SIXTEEN TO ONE"

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of which they complained, they were determined to take control of the federal government themselves, and use it to protect the people from those who would despoil them.

"SIXTEEN TO ONE"

While the reformers were insisting upon more adequate measures for the control of corporations, they focused their efforts on one particular demand: "free silver," always at the ratio of sixteen to one, and this too while the market ratio stood at approximately thirty-two to one. Economists and financial experts talked gravely of the dangers of inflation, but the ordinary western farmer who cried for free silver was not bothered about inflation. "Sixteen to one" and "free silver" were verbal short cuts, or campaign slogans, symbols which expressed at the same time the farmers' deep dissatisfaction with prevailing conditions and their hope of better days. Back of those slogans was a vast expanse of emotional feeling, which filled the words themselves with a hot, burning significance almost entirely lost upon the business interests in the East.

Months before the nominating conventions met everybody in the South and West was talking "free silver," so much so that the demand almost assumed the proportions of an approaching crusade. Gold and silver were personified. Gold was the symbol of heartless greed and snobbish wealth, silver of "honest democracy." Gold had deserted the country during the panic; silver loyally stood by to aid the stricken people. The cause of silver was championed all over the West by speakers and writers. One of the most famous of the silver arguments was a book by W. H. Harvey entitled Coin's Financial School. Coin was represented as a shrewd young financial expert in Chicago, who conducted a school to teach the advantages of free silver. His students were Senators, university presidents, professors, bankers, and economists. Every attempt which they made to refute Coin's arguments always failed, and in the end the experts were all converted to Coin's gospel. The book was a curious mixture of argument, fallacy, and nonsense, but it sold by the hundred thousand. Silver men considered it not only true, but inspired. Farmers studied it in the evening, and chapters from it were read aloud at country gatherings. For the benefit of those who could not read, the book was liberally illustrated. One picture showed a one-legged man, struggling along on crutches. Two legs are better than one, therefore two

metals are better than one. Another pictured silver as a beautiful woman, whose head had been cut off by Senator Sherman. Another showed Sherman and Cleveland dressed as burglars, digging the foundation (silver) out of the house. There was a good deal in the book to give point to Mr. Dooley's concluding remark in a debate on silver: "Th' whole currency question is a matter iv lungs."

When the time for the conventions approached, the political situation was more perplexing than it had been at any time since 1860. Both parties, threatened with disruption by the silver problem, were anxious and excited. Of the old parties, the Democrats were the worse off. Cleveland's insistence upon the repeal of the Sherman Silver Purchase Act had hurt him and the whole party in the West. At the same time popular opinion laid the blame for the panic upon the Democrats, and the Republicans did all that they could to foster that belief. Cleveland's use of federal troops in the Pullman strike hurt him in labor circles. His "deal" with the J. P. Morgan Company made him intensely unpopular wherever men favored silver.

After 1895, the President had practically no supporters in Congress; in fact some Senators hated him so vehemently that they would vote against legislation which they personally wanted, merely because Cleveland was known to favor it. The old type of leader from the South had given way to more active champions of the farmer and free silver, men like Tillman of South Carolina, who had been elected partly on the strength of his threat to stick his pitchfork into Cleveland's ribs. Tillman was a coarse demagogue, with an uncontrollable temper and a missing eye. The Democrats had no national leaders. Of the two who had developed after the Civil War, one, Tilden, was dead, and Cleveland, the other, had lost all traces of support.

THE REPUBLICAN NOMINATION

The Republicans were more fortunate than their opponents. Having been out of office during the panic, they could reap whatever advantages that fact would bring to them, and they were well supplied with leaders. Among the more promising presidential possibilities was Thomas B. Reed, the portly Speaker of the House in Harrison's time. He was a man of intellect and determination, with all the qualities necessary to make a good executive. But he was conservative by temperament, known to favor a high tariff, and openly opposed to free silver. On that account he would have been

unacceptable to the great majority of Republicans in the West, who were leaning strongly toward silver and Populism.

In looking for a more "available" candidate, one whose views on the money question were neither too well known nor too firmly fixed, the Republicans bethought themselves of William McKinley of Ohio, the former chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means. He had called himself a "Bimetallist," an appellation that found favor in the West. Personally McKinley was a genial, kindly, mild-tempered man, one who could be depended upon "to swim with the tide," a harmonizer. He was a good party man, anxious to shape his own views so that they would accord with those of his following. His record in connection with the Republican tariff of 1890 would have been a positive liability before 1893, but after the panic protectionism was restored to favor.

McKinley himself, alone and unaided, would probably have had no more chance of a nomination for the presidency than any one of the thousands of other Congressmen, from 1789 to 1896. But he had the good fortune to be a friend and protégé of Marcus Alonzo Hanna, a prominent citizen of Cleveland, Ohio. Hanna liked and admired McKinley, and determined to do what he could to make him President.

MARK HANNA

Born in 1837, the son of a wholesale grocer, "Mark" Hanna developed into a keen business man. He dealt in coal, iron, and in oil, making liberal profits on his ventures. Then he became interested in shipping on the Great Lakes, and in banking. Finding that his capacities were equal to all these activities, he branched out still more, and bought a newspaper, then a theater. He saw the possibilities in street railway transportation, so he plunged into that business, with his customary perseverance and success. To develop his lines he needed franchises, which were to be secured as favors from politicians. Hanna was the sort of man who could see straight through a problem from beginning to end, and he concluded that the easiest way to secure franchises was to buy up the city government, just as he bought steamboats and theaters. This he did openly, with no thought of anything unethical in the proceeding. Before he had finished with his purchases, he controlled the whole city government of Cleveland, from the mayor down. Like other business men of the time, he had small regard for the public. "You have been in politics

long enough," he wrote to a friend, "to know that no man in public life owes the public anything."

Hanna was a typical example of the business man in politics. His philosophy taught him that all government existed for the sake of protecting and fostering business, and that the Republican Party alone was competent to manage the government, state or national. Withal he was a man of principle, or at least there were things which his standards would not let him do. Once he had given his word, he was absolutely dependable. Personally, while aggressive and dynamic, he was kindly and companionable. He made friends easily, and kept them.

In 1895 he withdrew from most of his business activities, and devoted himself, his remarkable powers of leadership, and his capacity for organization to the task of making McKinley President. His work in the campaign is intensely interesting, because it shows how presidential candidates may be manufactured. Because the Republican candidate would be selected by the party convention, Hanna's first task was to make sure of enough delegates to give his friend a solid majority in that convention. In making his preliminary analysis, Hanna found that New England was intent upon Thomas B. Reed, so much so that any attempt to secure McKinley delegates from that section would be a sheer waste of time. New York he found in the hands of "Tom" Platt, while Pennsylvania was dominated by Matthew S. Quay. The delegations of those two states would vote as the two bosses ordered; they were of course at the disposal of any candidate who made himself acceptable to Platt and Quay, but Hanna could see little hope of any successful dickering with them that early in the game.

The Northeast therefore was closed, but the South and West were still wide open. Both of these sections leaned toward silver, and McKinley's record as a bimetallist would be favorably regarded. The South in particular was the logical place for launching the McKinley boom, because the party organization there was easy to handle. Although the Southern states had nothing but the vestiges of a Republican Party left, they still had full representation in the National Convention. Out of a total of nine hundred six delegates, the Southern machines would send two hundred forty-four. If these could all be captured for McKinley, his managers would have an excellent working nucleus. Hanna rented a house in Thomasville,