I presented my arguments against Johnson’s selection with all the force of which I was capable, but found that the President took only a languid interest in my attempt to re-open a subject which he considered closed. The nearest approach to rousing him which I achieved, was when I pointed out to the President that Johnson’s appointment would alienate John Purroy Mitchel. He thereupon flashed out with, “Mitchel is no help to us anyway.” I then realized the President’s deep irritation at Mitchel’s active campaign for military preparedness, which he had pushed so vigorously that it amounted, on the one hand, to a threat that he would leave the party if a preparedness programme were not undertaken, and on the other, to a serious embarrassment of the President’s carefully considered foreign policy. The President finally tried to dismiss the subject by saying that I had come too late, that Burleson had arranged the whole matter, and that the commission was on his desk for signature. I then asked him as a personal favour not to sign the commission for a few days, and to this he consented.
I then made a call upon the Postmaster General. Mr. Burleson evidently misjudged the temper of my resolution. In our association in the campaign of 1912 he had never seen me thoroughly aroused, and did not realize that I was so now. He argued the matter in a soothing manner, and at length made me the astounding proposal, not only that I should assent to the nomination of Johnson, but that I should write a letter to the President commending it. I evidently astonished the General with the vigour of my reply. I informed him emphatically that I would not write such a letter, and practically challenged him to see which of us would have the final say regarding the nomination.
I next sought Colonel House to get his advice and coöperation. I got only the advice—and a glimpse into the true nature of his relationship with the President. He told me that it was his custom to present freely to the President his views upon questions of the moment, but that he believed that it was the President’s duty to decide, and that once the President had expressed an opinion, it was not proper for him to argue the matter with him.
I did not accept Colonel House’s advice. I was confident that my judgment of the Johnson appointment was sound, and I felt no hesitation in renewing my effort to convince Mr. Wilson. I returned to the White House, and resumed my argument. I pointed out to the President the danger of losing the enthusiasm of the New York World and the extreme importance of carrying New York in the fall election, and the embarrassment which Johnson would cause us in that effort. “Do you mean to say,” demanded the President, “that if I appoint Johnson Postmaster, it will cost us New York in November?”
I understood the President’s psychology well enough not to answer with a direct affirmative. If I had said “Yes,” the Scotch-Irish in him would have instantly replied, “Then, I don’t care if we do lose it.” Worse yet, he would have doubted my own loyalty and fighting spirit. I replied, therefore, somewhat less directly. Recalling Mr. Wilson’s enthusiasm for golf, I said: “No, Mr. President, I do not mean that. What I do mean is that you will put an enormous bunker in our way and it will require great skill for us to get over it.” This answer pleased him, and we continued the discussion. “Whom else could I name?” he asked me. I answered truthfully that I had no candidate; and that I was concerned only to prevent Johnson’s selection, and had not the slightest objection to his selecting a good Tammanyite for the position. I added that two Tammany men occurred to me as being unobjectionable, State Senator Robert E. Wagner, or Assemblyman Alfred E. Smith.
The President finally agreed not to appoint Johnson, and several days later, telegraphed me in New York, asking me to offer the position to Senator Wagner. I did so, and almost persuaded him to accept it, with his proviso that he should get Murphy’s consent. This he failed to obtain, so that for the rest of the year the Republican incumbent continued to hold the office. Tammany would not have been placated anyway by this one sop thrown to them at the last minute, and, on the other hand, I had the satisfaction of preventing the defection of Mitchel and the weakening of the New York World’s support.
President Wilson was re-nominated unanimously at the Convention at St. Louis in July. The next question was to name the Chairman of the Campaign Committee so that we could proceed at once to vigorous action. I was suggested for the position, and I promptly refused to consider it, pointing out that my antagonism to Tammany would certainly cause the organization in New York to resent my appointment. The various state organization leaders were already irritated enough over the lack of consideration that they had received throughout the Wilson Administration. Some of them were determined to revolt unless a chairman should be named from the recognized party workers of the National Committee. The President has the right to name the man who shall manage his campaign for reëlection, and his advisers were distinctly worried over the attitude of the organization leaders. I was asked to suggest someone to act as Treasurer of the Campaign Committee, and I mentioned Vance McCormick of Pennsylvania. This probably suggested a solution of the difficulty, and the President shortly afterward named McCormick chairman of the Campaign Committee. As McCormick was a regular party leader, and was besides very popular, there could be no objection to this choice. It proved indeed a very happy one. All who know McCormick personally are unanimous in their appreciation of his high character and of his utterly charming personality. He is a most unusual mixture of forcefulness and sweetness of spirit. His selection was an ideal one. The concord which prevailed at Democratic headquarters throughout the campaign of 1916 was in pleasing contrast to the fretful bickerings of 1912, and this difference was due chiefly to McCormick’s influence.
I devoted myself, as I had in 1912, chiefly to the financial side of the campaign. This time I had powerful assistance. Thomas L. Chadbourne, Jr., and Bernard M. Baruch were particularly valuable allies. I had only to suggest, to one or the other, where I thought they might find some prosperous and as yet untaxed Democrat, to have him eagerly exclaim, “I’ll get him,” and neither of them ever failed to make good his boast. Some gave cheerfully out of their abundance, as did Edward L. Doheny, whom I personally solicited and who contributed $50,000, which he later got back, and a quarter of a million more, by taking a sporting chance on a close election and betting heavily on Wilson’s success. Others gave equally greatly out of meagre resources. Of these, the most touching was the gift from the late Franklin K. Lane, who had saved up a thousand dollars in the preceding six months and gave it out of the fulness of his patriotism and his personal affection for the President.
Perhaps the most amusing episode of our campaign for party finances was our experience with Henry Ford. One of our plans called for an extensive campaign of newspaper advertising, which would require a large sum of money. Someone suggested that Mr. Ford, in view of his interest in world peace and in President Wilson’s peace record, might be willing to supply the funds. After some correspondence, Ford agreed to meet Vance McCormick in New York, and in August, 1916, they met at luncheon in McCormick’s rooms at the Biltmore Hotel. The luncheon party consisted of Ford, McCormick, Thos. A. Edison, and Josephus Daniels. All four men are well known for their temperance proclivities, and doubtless they lived up, on this occasion, to their professions and their usual practices. It must have been either the intoxication of political ideas, or the effervescence of youthful spirits which prompted them after luncheon to dispense temporarily with the serious business in hand, and enter into a lively competition in high kicking in the sitting room of the suite in friendly but vigorous rivalry to see which could first kick the chandelier. None of them reached this goal, but Henry Ford, who started his business life by repairing bicycles, set a new world’s record by topping the other three several inches in this pedal competition. To make sure that my memory of this event was correct, I wrote to Vance McCormick for verification. His reply is worth repeating:
Dear Uncle Henry: