Hot Time in the Old Town - Edward Kohn [102]
Unlike Bryan’s speech, every prominent New York politician attended the event. One early outburst of applause came when the Republican Mayor Strong appeared. Boss Platt was in attendance, as was Warner Miller. Former governor Flower attended and provided small American flags to the crowd, which were placed on each of the 15,000 seats. Abram Hewitt and E. L. Godkin, two former governors of Ohio, and New York congressmen Coombs and Fowler attended.
Theodore Roosevelt had not attended Bryan’s speech. He had not even been in the city on that fateful Wednesday evening. On August 18, however, not only did Republican Roosevelt attend the speech of a Tammany Democrat, but he also brought his wife. When he entered the Garden he received loud cheers from the crowd and the honor of being the object of the old political chant: “What’s the matter with Roosevelt?” someone shouted, to which the standard reply was, “Oh, he’s all right.” “Who’s all right?” “Why, Teddy!” roared the crowd, as Roosevelt smiled at his reception. He may have also been smiling at the police arrangements for that evening. As the Garden’s doors had been opened two hours early, there was no crush at the entrances, and no mad dash for seats. Before Bryan’s speech, seats had filled in a matter of minutes as people sprinted through the doors. For tonight’s speech all seats were filled an hour before Cockran even appeared onstage, as the band played “Hail to the Chief.”
The auditorium was draped in red, white, and blue bunting. The boxes and galleries were adorned with American flags, while above the upper galleries hung flags with the seals of every state of the Union. The speaker’s platform featured the national shield of the American eagle. Thousands of flags had been used for the decorations of the Garden, not including the 15,000 provided by Governor Flower. When the crowd waved them, the Times said, “they gave an effect that was as picturesque in appearance as it was patriotic in sentiment.”
One of the most rousing moments of the evening came before Cockran even began to speak. He had just been greeted by a roaring ovation and had raised his hands to still the tumult. He waited until the noise had subsided, and when there were only a few scattered people clapping, he prepared to begin speaking. At that moment someone in the audience arose and, using one of the little flags as a baton, began singing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Before the first verse was completed, the entire audience of 15,000 had jumped to its feet to sing the remainder of the anthem, all the while waving their little flags. The Sun called the spontaneous scene as “perhaps the most thrilling and inspiring ever witnessed in New York,” while the Times said “Few demonstrations such as greeted Mr. Cockran when he arose to speak have ever been seen in this city since war times—if, indeed, there were any then.”
After the singing subsided, Cockran spoke without notes for a little over an hour, about half the time that Bryan had spent reading his speech. Incorporating mention of the anthem into the introduction to his speech, he improvised, “With the inspiring strains of the national song still ringing in our ears, who can doubt the issue of this campaign? That issue, stripped of all verbal disguise, is an issue of common honesty; an issue between an honest discharge and a dishonest repudiation of public and private obligations. It is a question of whether the powers of this government shall be used to protect honest industry or to tempt the citizen to dishonesty.”
Cockran was blunt about the course of action for Democrats. “We must raise our hands against the nominee of our party, and we must do it to preserve the party itself.” Throughout his speech he resorted to withering sarcasm that time