If the politicians did, in truth, desire a relaxation from the patronage standards of the Hayes regime, they did not make that the ostensible purpose of their campaign. They argued that the times demanded a strong man; that foreign travel had greatly broadened the General and given him a knowledge of other forms of government; that he had been great as a commander of armies, greater as a President, and that as a citizen of the Republic he "shone with a luster that challenged the admiration of the world." Behind him were Conkling and Platt, with the New York state organization under their control, Don Cameron who held Pennsylvania in his hand, General Logan, strong in Illinois, and lesser leaders who wielded much power in smaller states. Many business men were ready to lend their aid; the powerful Methodist Church, to which he belonged, was favorable to him; and, of course, his popularity as a military leader was unbounded. His return to the United States while the enthusiasm was at its height was the signal for an unprecedented ovation. The opponents of a third term painted in high colors the danger of a revival of the scandals of Grant's days in the presidential chair, formed "No Third Term" leagues, called an "Anti-Third-Term" convention and decried the danger of continuing a military man in civil office. The Nation scoffed at the educational effect of foreign travel on a man who was fifty-seven years of age and could understand the language in only one of the countries in which he travelled. A large fraction of the Republican press, in fact, was in opposition. "Anything to beat Grant" and "No third term" were their war-cries. Nor was there any lack of Republican candidates to oppose the Grant movement and to give promise of a lively nominating convention. Blaine's popularity was as widespread as ever. Those who feared the nomination of either Grant or Blaine favored Senator George F. Edmunds of Vermont or Secretary Sherman. Both of these men were of statesmanlike proportions, but Edmunds was never widely popular and Sherman was lacking in the arts of the politician—"the human icicle," T.C. Platt called him.
The Republican nominating convention of 1880 met in Chicago in a building described as "one of the most splendid barns" ever built. This convention is unusually worthy of study because it involved most of the elements which entered into American politics in the early eighties. It was long memorable as making a record for that form of enthusiasm which bursts into demonstrations. "Great applause," "loud laughter," "cheers" and "hisses long and furious" dot the newspaper accounts of its deliberations. The members "acted like so many Bedlamites," one of the delegates said. On one day the opening prayer was so unexpectedly short that there was applause and laughter. The keen contest for the nomination resulted in galleries packed with supporters of the several candidates, who cheered furiously as their favorite delegates appeared. As the galleries came down nearly to the level of the floor, the spectators were almost as much members of the convention as the delegates themselves. It was under such conditions, then, that the convention proceeded to the serious business of adopting principles and choosing a leader.
Three hundred and six of the 757 delegates were sworn supporters of Grant—pledged to die, if they died at all, "with their boots on," one of their leaders said. In each of the big delegations—those from New York, Pennsylvania and Illinois—a minority was unfavorable to Grant. This minority could be counted in the General's column if the convention could be forced to adopt the so-called "unit-rule," under which the delegation from a state casts all its votes for the candidate favored by the majority. In this particular case, the minorities in New York, Pennsylvania and Illinois numbered more than sixty delegates, so that the adoption of the rule was a stake worth playing for. The plan formulated by the Grant leaders was worthy of the time.
Donald Cameron of Pennsylvania was chairman of the National Republican Committee. Following the usual custom, Cameron was to call the convention to order and present the temporary chairman who had been chosen by the Committee. As the Grant supporters were in a minority even on the Committee, provision was made to meet the emergency in case the majority insisted on the appointment of an anti-Grant chairman. Cameron was to announce the name, a Grant delegate was to move to substitute a Grant man instead, and Cameron would enforce the unit-rule in the resulting ballot. This would ensure control of the organization of the convention and, doubtless, of the nomination of the candidate.
Unhappily for this well-laid plan, rumor of it leaked out, and the majority of the National Committee—opposed to Grant—conveyed information to Cameron that he must agree to give up such a scheme or be ousted from his position. Cameron, convinced that his enemies were determined, gave up his project, and Senator George F. Hoar, who favored neither Grant nor Blaine, was made temporary and later permanent chairman.
Although defeated in the first skirmish, the Grant forces pressed forward for renewed conflict. Conkling presented a resolution that every member of the convention be bound in honor to support the eventual candidate, whoever he might be. The resolution passed 716 to three; and he then moved that the three who had voted in the negative had thereby forfeited their votes in the convention. James A. Garfield of Ohio led the opposition to such rough-shod action and Conkling angrily withdrew his resolution amid hisses. When Garfield reported from the Committee on Rules in regard to the regulations under which the convention should deliberate, he moved that the unit rule be not adopted and the convention upheld him. It was manifest that the delegates were not in a mood to surrender to a junto of powerful machine politicians.
The way having been now cleared for action, the convention adopted a platform. This was composed largely of a summary of the achievements of the party and denunciation of the opposition. Most of the planks were abstract or perfunctory, or expressed in such a way as not to commit the party seriously. Harper's Weekly, a Republican periodical, regretted the character of the platform and remarked that such documents are expected to say
An undisputed thing
In such a solemn way.
Judged by this criterion, the platform was ideal. The obligations of the country to the veterans were emphasized and the restriction of Chinese immigration called for. On the tariff, the only utterance was an avowal that duties levied for the purposes of revenue should discriminate in favor of labor. After this declaration of faith had been unanimously adopted, a Massachusetts delegate presented an additional plank advocating civil service reform.
The convention was now badly put to it. To reject a plank which had been accepted both in 1872 and in 1876 would discredit the party, particularly as the platform just adopted had accused the opposition of sacrificing patriotism "to a supreme and insatiable lust for office." Nevertheless the opposition to its adoption was formidable, and it had already been twice rejected in the Committee on Resolutions, which drew up the platform. There seemed no way of avoiding the issue, however, and the plank was thereupon adopted, though not before Webster Flanagan of Texas had blurted out, "After we have won the race … we will give those who are entitled to positions office. What are we up here for?"