William Jennings Bryan: A Concise But Complete Story of His Life and Services

by Harvey Ellsworth Newbranch

The great presidential campaign of 1896 was in many respects the most remarkable in the history of the United States. It turned upon an issue which was felt to be of transcending importance, and which aroused the elemental passions of the people in a manner probably never before witnessed in this country save in time of war. It was an issue forced by the voters themselves despite the unceasing efforts of the leading politicians of both great parties to keep it in the background. Beneath its shadow old party war cries died into silence; old party differences were forgotten; old party lines were obliterated. As it existed in the hearts of men the issue had no name. Bimetallism was discussed; monometallism was discussed; these were the themes of public speakers, editors, and street corner gatherings when recourse was had to facts and argument. But when one partisan called his friend the enemy an “Anarchist!” and when the latter retorted with the cry of “Plutocrat,” then there spoke in epithets the feelings which were stirring the American people, and which made the campaign significant. For the terms indicated that for the first time in the Republic founded on the doctrine of equality, Lazarus at Dives’ gate had raised the cry of injustice, whereat the rich man trembled.

The Republican National convention met at St. Louis on June 16. William McKinley, of Ohio, was nominated for President and Garret A. Hobart, of New Jersey, for Vice-President. A platform was adopted declaring for the maintenance of “the existing gold standard” until bimetallism could be secured by international agreement, which the party was pledged to promote. The doctrine of a high protective tariff was strongly insisted on.

Against the financial plank of the platform there was waged a bitter, if hopeless, fight by the silver men of the West, under the honored leadership of United States Senator Henry M. Teller, of Colorado. On the adoption of the platform Senators Teller, Dubois, of Idaho, Pettigrew, of South Dakota, Cannon, of Utah, and Mantle, of Montana, with three congressmen and fifteen other delegates, walked out of the convention. They issued an address to the people declaring monetary reform to be imperative, that the deadly curse of falling prices might be averted. The dominant figure of this convention was Marcus A. Hanna, of Ohio, a millionaire coal and shipping magnate with large industrial and commercial interests in various sections of the country. In taking charge of the campaign that resulted in McKinley’s nomination he introduced his business methods into politics. He had conducted the canvass throughout along commercial lines. “He has been as smooth as olive oil and as stiff as Plymouth Rock,” said the New York Sun, since recognized as President McKinley’s personal organ. “He is a manager of men, a manipulator of events, such as you more frequently encounter in the back offices of the headquarters of financial and commercial centers than at district primaries or in the lobbies of convention halls. There is no color or pretense of statesmanship in his efforts; he seems utterly indifferent to political principles, and color-blind to policies, except as they figure as counters in his game. He can be extremely plausible and innocently deferential in his intercourse with others, or can flame out on proper occasion in an outburst of well-studied indignation. He is by turns a bluffer, a compromiser, a conciliator, and an immovable tyrant. Such men do not enter and revolutionize national politics for nothing. Now, what is Mark Hanna after?”

The question was soon answered. Mark Hanna became chairman of the National Republican committee, United States senator from Ohio, and the most powerful, if not the all-powerful, influence behind the McKinley administration. His rapid rise to commanding position and the unyielding manner in which he has utilized his power have furnished much argument to such as are inclined to be pessimistic regarding the enduring qualities of republics.

Early in July the Democratic National convention assembled in Chicago. Mr. Bryan, who had attended the St. Louis convention as editor-in-chief of the Omaha World-Herald, was here present as a delegate-at-large from Nebraska. Since the expiration of his second congressional term he had been active and unwearying in the fight to capture the convention for free silver. As editor of the World-Herald he had contributed numerous utterances that were widely quoted by the silver press, and much of his time had been devoted to delivering speeches and lectures in the interests of bimetallism in almost every section of the country. He came to Chicago fresh from a Fourth of July debate at the Crete, Neb., Chautauqua, with Hon. John P. Irish, of California, Cleveland’s collector of the port at San Francisco. Except a few intimate friends in Nebraska, who knew Bryan’s capacities and ambitions, no man dreamed of the possibility of his nomination for the presidency. There were available, tried, and time-honored silver leaders, men who had been fighting the white metal’s battles for a score of years, notable among whom were Richard P. Bland, of Missouri, and Henry M. Teller, of Colorado. One of these, it was generally believed, would be chosen to lead the forlorn hopes of a regenerated but disrupted democracy.

Mr. Bryan’s nomination was the spontaneous tribute of the convention to those qualities that since have made him not famous only, but well-beloved. These qualities are honesty, courage, frankness, and sincerity. They had veritable life in every line and paragraph of his great speech defending the free silver plank of the platform, delivered in reply to the crafty-wise David B. Hill, of New York. Hill, skilled and experienced practical politician, had pleaded with the convention that it pay the usual tribute at the shrine of Janus. He had begged that the ignus fatuus “international bimetallism” be used to lure the friends of silver into voting the Democratic ticket. Nurtured and trained in the same school of politics as William McKinley,—the school whose graduates had for many years dominated all party conventions,—Hill started back in affright from the prospect of going before the people on a platform that was straightforward and unequivocal, with its various planks capable of but one construction.

Mr. Bryan’s speech was as bold and ringing as the platform which he spoke to defend, with its plank, written by himself, and twice utilized in Nebraska, demanding “the free and unlimited coinage of both gold and silver at the present legal ratio of 16 to 1, without waiting for the aid or consent of any other nation.”

The letter and spirit of that plank were such as the great majority of the convention were thoroughly in sympathy with. The result of the great silver propaganda of the two years preceding had been to send to the convention honest and sincere men with profound convictions and the courage to express them. To do this, they knew, would be revolutionary, even as had been the platforms on which the Pathfinder, Fremont, and the Liberator, Lincoln, ran. But the spirit of revolution from cant and equivoque was rife in that convention. Of that spirit William Jennings Bryan was the prophet. In a speech that thrilled into men’s minds and hearts his defiance and contempt of the opportunists’ policy, his own fearless confidence in the all-conquering power of truth, he stirred into an unrestrained tempest the long pent emotions of the delegates. When he had finished not only was the adoption of the platform by a vote of two to one assured, but the convention had found its leader whom it would commission to go forth to preach the old, old gospel of democracy, rescued from its years of sleep. The nature of Mr. Bryan’s speech may be gained from these brief extracts:

“When you (turning to the gold delegates) come before us and tell us we are about to disturb your business interests, we reply that you have disturbed our business interests by your course. We say to you that you have made the definition of a business man too limited in its application. The man who is employed for wages is as much a business man as his employer; the attorney in a country town is as much a business man as the corporation counsel in a great metropolis; the merchant at a cross-roads store is as much a business man as the merchant of New York; the farmer who goes forth in the morning and toils all day, who begins in the spring and toils all summer, and who, by the application of brain and muscle to the natural resources of the country, creates wealth, is as much a business man as the man who goes upon the board of trade and bets upon the price of grain: the miners who go down a thousand feet into the earth, or climb two thousand feet upon the cliffs, and bring forth from their hiding places the precious metals to be poured into the channels of trade are as much business men as the few financial magnates who, in a back room, corner the money of the world. We come to speak for this broader class of business men.

“Ah, my friends, we say not one word against those who live upon the Atlantic Coast, but the hardy pioneers who have braved all the dangers of the wilderness, who have made the desert to blossom as the rose,—the pioneers away out there (pointing to the west), who rear their children near to Nature’s heart, where they can mingle their voices with the voices of the birds, out there where they have erected schoolhouses for the education of their young, churches where they praise their Creator, and cemeteries where rest the ashes of their dead—these people, we say, are as deserving of the consideration of our party as any people in this country. It is for these that we speak. We do not come as aggressors. Our war is not a war of conquest; we are fighting in defense of our homes, our families, and posterity. We have petitioned, and our petitions have been scorned; we have entreated, and our entreaties have been disregarded; we have begged, and they have mocked when our calamity came. We beg no longer; we entreat no more; we petition no more. We defy them....