Hot Time in the Old Town - Edward Kohn [9]
Instead, the Populists chose Tom Watson, a Georgia congressman and one of the founders of the People’s Party. Having a different nominee for vice president allowed the Populists a strange sort of independence. It also raised the question of whether Bryan would even accept the nomination, which he deliberated over for several days. The Democratic governor of Texas urged Bryan to accept the nomination and to “discuss nothing but the money question.” Sewall even wrote to him, observing that Bryan’s indecision seemed to be based mainly on not wanting to insult his Democratic running mate by also accepting Watson as his Populist running mate. “I desire that you will do just what you believe is best for the success of the head of the ticket,” Sewall said. “The principles we are fighting for are so paramount to any personal relations that the latter should not have any weight or influence whatever with your action.”
Bryan accepted: He would need those Populist votes come November. But this strange coalition between the Democrats and Populists came at a cost. By allying himself with the more radical People’s Party, Bryan played into the hands of his Republican opponents, as they cried “Anarchy!” and quickly dubbed Bryan the “Popocrat” candidate.
Bryan could now only hope that the Populists would allow themselves to be absorbed by the Democrats. Indeed, by early August “fusion” was the word of the day. Would the Populists simply fold themselves into the Democratic Party? The answer seemed to be a resounding no. The New York Times reported that the Populist National Committee had opened its campaign headquarters in Washington, DC. The spokesman for the Populists stated that they would campaign completely independent of the Democrats, “just the same as if Bryan was not the nominee of the Chicago convention.”
In New York, Democrat political leaders were still feeling the aftershocks of Bryan’s nomination. Residents of the country’s financial center, New York Democrats cared little for the silver issue, and Bryan had been nominated against their wishes. “Only two papers in New York supporting your candidacy,” the editor of the then-Democratic New York Mercury wrote to Bryan at the end of July.
Both Republican and Democrat leaders in the city were used to getting their way in national politics because of the importance of New York in national elections. Over the past four presidential elections, New York City alone had provided the crucial margin of victory. Now the city’s Democrats, and the leaders of the Tammany Hall political machine, were faced with the unsavory task of backing a candidate who represented southern and western agrarian interests and offered little to attract New York voters. In 1896 Tammany Hall was a force to be reckoned with. Since 1788, it had produced leading American politicians like Aaron Burr and Martin Van Buren. By mobilizing the massive immigrant base of the city, and seeing to the needs of these newly arrived New Yorkers, Tammany and its minions were able to control much of the politics of the city, from the mayor’s office to the fire department. In the mid-nineteenth century, boss William Tweed had adopted the tiger as the insignia of his volunteer fire brigade, and Tammany quickly adopted it as its symbol. With the importance of New York in national politics, support by the Tammany Tiger could make or break a candidacy. After his nomination Bryan had waited expectantly for news from Tammany. On July 31, exactly three weeks after his Chicago nomination, Bryan finally received a telegram from New York informing him that “Tammany endorsed ticket executive session this p.m.” On the surface this seemed like good news, but a close observer of politics would have noted that the