“There hasn’t been such an outpouring of the people,” said a gentleman who stood near me, “since Mr. Blaine passed through here when he was a candidate for the presidency.”
I noted that several of the committee grew red and frowned at him. Afterward Ridley told me why—the Blaine demonstration had led them to expect that he would carry the county by an overwhelming majority; instead, he had lost it by a “landslide” vote against him.
When the train stopped, a battery of artillery began to fire a salute of one hundred guns. Several bands struck up, the children sang “The Star-Spangled Banner,” and the crowd burst into frenzies of cheering. I was overcome with emotion and the tears streamed down my cheeks. At that the cheering was more tremendous and I saw many of the women and little girls crying.
I entered the carriage drawn by six horses, the mayor of the town beside me, and the march to the Court House began. I had given my workingmen a holiday and my excursion trains had poured the people of the four other towns into this fifth town, about quadrupling its population for the day. The streets were therefore thronged from the house-walls to the edges of a lane just wide enough for the procession. The houses were draped with bunting; arches of evergreens and bunting, each bearing my name and words of welcome, spanned the route of march at frequent intervals. I stood all the way, my hat in hand. As I bowed, the cheers answered me. The bells in all the towers and steeples rang, cannon boomed, and the procession, in five divisions, each with a band and militia, wound in my wake. My heart swelled with triumph and with grateful appreciation. I fully realised myself for the first time in my life.
As I have said, I always did have a self-respecting opinion of myself, even when an over-nice and inexperienced conscience was annoying me with its hair-splittings. As I have grown older, and have seen the inferiority of other men and the superiority of my own mind and judgment, naturally my early opinion has been strengthened and deepened. But on that day I realised how my own sight of myself had been obscured by a too close view. My domestic exasperations, the necessary disagreeableness and pettiness of so many of the details of my great projects, the triviality of my routine of business and its harassments—all these had combined to make me belittle my own stature and bulk. On that day I saw myself as others see me. I felt a great uplifting, a supreme disdain for those who oppose me or cavil at me, a high and firm resolve to devote myself thereafter more confidently and more boldly to my plans.
But—the more splendid the crown, the more splitting the headache.
At the banquet in the evening I observed that the enthusiasm of the daytime was not being sustained. I was amazed and irritated by the large number of vacant places at the tables, when my agents had been instructed judiciously and quietly to distribute free tickets should there not be a sufficient number of persons able to pay the five dollars a plate we were charging for a nine-dollar dinner. I was puzzled by the nervous uneasiness of those who sat with me at the table of honour and who had been all geniality a few hours before. The speeches seemed to me halting and inadequate—my own speech, well calculated to rouse local pride, was received with a faint hand-clapping which soon died away. After the dinner I, Burridge, and Ridley drove alone to the station. It was filled with weary throngs taking the returning excursion trains. They did not cheer me; they only stared curiously.
When we were on our way back to New York I wished to discuss the triumph with my two companions, but Burridge was dumb and Ridley morose. In the morning I called for the New York dailies; they were haltingly produced. Imagine my amazement when I saw, in many kinds of type, now jubilant, now regretful, now apologetic headlines, all agreeing that my reception was a fiasco. Only my stanch —— printed the truth, and it laid entirely too much stress upon the “act of malicious and mendacious demagoguery.” That act was: Some enemy of mine had discovered inside facts as to my manipulation of freight rates to get control of the mines and factories, and, late in the afternoon, in the interval between the reception and the banquet, a New York newspaper containing what purported to be a full account of my machinations had been hawked about the streets, and was read by everybody—except me.
I do not here deny that the basic facts were practically true as printed. But the worst possible colour was given to them, and the worst possible motives of rapacity and conscienceless cruelty were ascribed to me. Instead of showing that I was like a general who sacrifices a comparative few in order that he may save millions and advance a great cause, the wretched rag held me up as a swindler and robber—worse, as an assassin!
I understood all, and sympathised with my hosts, the people of those five towns, in their embarrassment. As their local newspapers, which I got the next day, assured me, they did not believe the slanderous story. But I can readily see how nervous it must have made them. It is fortunate for them that they had the good sense to discern the truth. Had I been insulted, I should have taken a terrible revenge, even though it had cost me several hundred thousand dollars.