Hot Time in the Old Town - Edward Kohn [59]
In Mansfield, Ohio, Bryan addressed an issue that would dog him throughout the campaign. Less than seventy miles from the Republican stronghold of Canton, he touched on his relative youth and lack of military service. “Here [in Canton] are some who believe that only in times of war can people prove their patriotism,” Bryan began. “I was too young to prove my patriotism in the time of war, but I glory that in a country like this every year presents a battlefield and every day gives those who live in the country an opportunity to prove their devotion.” It was a fair attempt to puncture this particular criticism. In a nation only a generation removed from the Civil War, Americans continued to define themselves and their country in the context of that great conflict.
The heroes of 1896 were, to a man, Civil War heroes, and America’s most ubiquitous war memorials commemorated that war. Bronze statues and Civil War veterans could be found in every town in America, including those along Bryan’s route that week. Some veterans wore their threadbare uniforms every day, while others hobbled along streets missing an arm or leg. Other men like McKinley continued to wear their Civil War ranks as badges of honor. That simple title “Major” in front of McKinley’s name spoke volumes to the average American in 1896. Bryan knew this, knew the impossibility of competing with it, and could offer only the excuse of his age and the claim of devotion. These were poor substitutes.
Men like Bryan and Roosevelt, born just before the war, were doomed to live in its shadow, which created in them a sense of inferiority and incompleteness that bordered on emasculation. No wonder that when war broke out with Spain in 1898, both Bryan and Roosevelt jumped at the chance to prove their worth and their manhood.
THE CLIMAX OF Bryan’s August 10 trip came at Canton, where cheers of “Hurrah for McKinley!” competed with cheers of “Hurrah for Bryan!” Rolling into McKinley’s hometown at just around 1:00 PM, Bryan could not have failed to note the many McKinley banners displayed by the crowd. If the East was the “enemy’s country,” then Canton perhaps constituted the front lines. A speech there was bound to be interrupted by cheers for the Major, and Bryan, in the gentlemanly style of nineteenth-century politics, would continually be forced to shower praise on his Republican opponent. Nevertheless, Bryan stood atop the platform and launched into a speech in front of a hostile crowd numbering in the thousands.
From the beginning of his speech, Bryan referred to McKinley as his “distinguished opponent” and declared himself glad to be able to testify at his home “to his high character and great personal worth.” This elicited loud cheers from the crowd of locals. The Democratic candidate noted that while McKinley was their neighbor, Bryan himself sought to be a neighbor like the Good Samaritan. “In this contest I hope to be the neighbor of those who have fallen among thieves,” Bryan boomed. “He is a neighbor who, in the hour of distress, brings relief.”
Turning to the free coinage of silver, he declaimed that whether in Omaha or Canton, he trusted that the neighbors of the two candidates would vote as they saw best, “although it may result in keeping your distinguished citizen among you as a neighbor still,” he joked. Some of Bryan’s supporters in the crowd jeered, “That’s where he belongs!”
As his speech ended, so ended the stop in Canton. No one suggested they march to McKinley’s home, and the train readied to leave. The train rolled out of town and toward Pittsburgh.