On one occasion, when he had been talking about his and Mr. Lewis's different conceptions of the "constitutional governor", and telling his audience how he, if elected, would interpret the election as a mandate from the people to assist in and direct legislation in the interests of the people of New Jersey at large, he paused an instant and then in those incisive tones and with that compression of the lips which marked his more bellicose words, he said curtly: "If you don't want that kind of a governor, don't elect me."
Excerpts from the speeches cannot do justice to this remarkable campaign, which Woodrow Wilson himself, after he had been twice elected President of the United States, considered the most satisfying of his political campaigns, because the most systematic and basic. As Presidential candidate he had to cover a wide territory and touch only the high spots in the national issues, but in his gubernatorial campaign he spoke in every county of the state and in some counties several times, and his speeches grew out of each other and were connected with each other in a way that made them a popular treatise on self-government. He used no technical jargon and none of the stereotyped bombast of the usual political campaign. He had a theme which he wanted to expound to the people of New Jersey, which theme was the nature and character of free government, how it had been lost in New Jersey through the complicated involvements of invisible government, manipulated from behind the scenes by adroit representatives of the corporate interest working in conjunction with the old political machines; how under this clever manipulation legislators had ceased to represent the electorate and were, as he called them, only "errand boys" to do the bidding of the real rulers of New Jersey, many of whom were not even residents of the state, and how free government could be restored to New Jersey through responsible leadership. He was making an application to practical politics of the fundamental principles of responsible government which he had analyzed in his earlier writings, including the book on "Congressional Government." Beneath the concrete campaign issues in New Jersey he saw the fundamental principles of Magna Charta and the Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States. His trained habit of thinking through concrete facts to basic principles was serving him well in this campaign; his trained habit of clear exposition in the Princeton lecture hall was serving him well. People heard from him political speaking of a new kind; full of weighty instruction and yet so simply phrased and so aptly illustrated that the simplest minded could follow the train of reasoning; profound in political philosophy and yet at every step humanized by one who believed government the most human of things because concerned with the happiness and welfare of individuals; sometimes he spoke in parables, homely anecdotes so applied that all could understand; sometimes he was caustic when he commented on the excessive zeal of corporations for strict constitutionalism, meaning thereby only such legislation and judicial interpretations as would defend their property rights—how they had secured those rights being a question not discussed by these gentlemen; sometimes, though not frequently, there would be purple patches of eloquence, particularly when descanting on the long struggle of the inarticulate masses for political representation.
One of the surprises of the campaign to those who had known him as an orator of classic eloquence was the comparative infrequency of rhetorical periods. It was as if he were now too deeply engaged with actualities to chisel and polish his sentences. Of the many anecdotes which he told during the campaign one of his favourites was of the Irishman digging a cellar, who when asked what he was doing said: "I'm letting the darkness out." Woodrow Wilson told the people of New Jersey that he was "letting the darkness out" of the New Jersey political situation. "Pitiless publicity" was one of his many phrases coined in the campaign which quickly found currency, not only in New Jersey but throughout the country, for presently the United States at large began to realize that what was going on in New Jersey was symbolical of the situation throughout the country, a tremendous struggle to restore popular government to the people. Since the founders of the Republic expounded free institutions to the first electorates of this country there had probably been no political campaign which went so directly to the roots of free representative government and how to get it as that campaign which Woodrow Wilson conducted in New Jersey in the autumn of 1910.
CHAPTER VII
THE CRISIS OF THE CAMPAIGN
The crisis of the campaign came when George L. Record, Progressive leader in the ranks of the Republican party in Hudson County, uttered a ringing challenge to the Democratic candidate to debate the issues of the campaign with him. The challenge contained an alternative proposition that the Democratic candidate either meet Mr. Record in joint debate in various parts of the state or that he answer certain questions with reference to the control of the Democratic party by what Mr. Record called the "Old Guard." Mr. Record's letter and challenge created a profound sensation throughout the state and brought hope and comfort to the ranks of the Republican party.
Record emphasized the Old Guard's control of the convention at which Wilson was nominated, basing most of his questions upon this character of political control, and openly challenging Wilson, the Democratic candidate, to say whether the elements that were dominant at Trenton in the Convention would be permitted by him, in case of his election, to influence his action as governor.
For several days after the letter containing the challenge reached the Democratic candidate, there was a great deal of apprehension in the ranks of the Democratic party lest the candidate should decide to ignore the Record challenge, thus giving aid and comfort to the enemies of progressivism in the state, or, on the other hand, that he would accept it and thus give Mr. Record, who was a most resourceful public speaker and a leading exponent of liberalism in the state, a chance to outwit him in public debate. The latter practically demanded of the Democratic candidate that he repudiate not only the Old Guard but the active management of his campaign which had been taken over by James R. Nugent, one of the leaders of Essex County, who daily accompanied the Democratic candidate on his tour of the state. For a time it looked as if Doctor Wilson would ignore entirely the Record challenge. It was plainly evident from all sides that what appeared to be his reluctance to take a stand in the matter had turned support away at a time when the sentiment of the state was rapidly flowing his way.
I accompanied the candidate on an automobile tour of the state and in our little talks I sought to find out, in a diplomatic way, just how his mind was running on the Record challenge and how he intended to meet it. In the automobile with us on this tour was James R. Nugent, then the state chairman of the Democratic Committee. I ascertained that even he knew nothing about the Princetonian's attitude toward the Record challenge. A significant remark which the candidate dropped "between meetings" gave me the first intimation that the Democratic candidate was, to use a baseball expression, "on to the Record curve" and that he would answer him in so emphatic and overwhelming a fashion that the Republican campaign would never entirely recover from the blow.
One day while we were seated in the tonneau of the automobile discussing the Record challenge, Mr. Wilson pointed his finger at Jim Nugent and said, very significantly: "I intend to reply to Mr. Record, but I am sure that it will hurt the feelings of this fine fellow."