The rise of Theodore Roosevelt - Edmund Morris [183]
THE LAST FORECASTS varied widely, with newspapers as usual differing along partisan lines. The Journal came nearest to an accurate reflection of the city’s enigmatic atmosphere: “Seldom has an election for Mayor of New York presented greater uncertainties on the eve of the voting than the one that will be decided tomorrow. The leaders … are at sea.”59
Through most of the campaign the weather had been cold and drizzly, with curtains of fog drifting around Manhattan, seeming to seal the island off from the outside world. It was still murky when Roosevelt (looking fatigued at last) went to bed on Monday night, but early next morning a meteorological “break” took place. Shortly after dawn, the Statue of Liberty revealed herself above the low fog lying across the Bay. She glowed brilliantly as the sun struck her, and for a while seemed to be standing on a pedestal of cloud.60 Then a mild breeze whisked the fog away, and New York awoke to Indian summer. The streets, washed clean by weeks of rain, steamed dry in the warmth, and the people turned out en masse to vote.61
Peace and good humor prevailed around the ballot boxes. Since the taverns were shut, and the sunshine luxurious, thousands spent the entire day out-of-doors. Rumors as to how the voting was going flashed with near-telegraphic speed from one street corner to another.62
As early as 2:00 P.M., secret messages came to Republican headquarters that George’s vote was going to be very high and Roosevelt’s very low. While the candidate sat innocently by, the party bosses shot back their secret reply: Republicans must vote for Hewitt. At all costs George must be stopped.63
The secret, of course, could not long be kept from Roosevelt. His emotions on discovering that he was being “sold out”—even for honorable political reasons—can be imagined. But he maintained a good-humored front, and tried to cheer his drooping staff by telling funny stories. About six o’clock he went out into the bonfire-lit night for dinner with friends. He seemed as buoyant as ever when he returned two hours later. By then it was plain that his defeat had become a rout.64 The only good news to come his way that evening was a telegram from Boston, announcing that Henry Cabot Lodge had been elected to the Congress of the United States. He shouted with joy, and sent his congratulations by return wire:
AM MORE DELIGHTED THAN I CAN SAY. DO COME ON THURSDAY.
AM BADLY DEFEATED. WORSE EVEN THAN I FEARED.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT.65
AFTER A LATE BREAKFAST next morning, Roosevelt went back to his headquarters and found it taken over by “a small army of scrub women.” But he seemed reluctant to leave, and sat around until a lone newspaperman poked his head in through the door. “I thought I’d look in to see what they had done with the corpse.” Roosevelt responded with a most uncorpselike grin.66
By rights the final returns, as headlined that day, should have made him wince. Hewitt had scored 90,552; George, 68,110; Roosevelt, 60,435.67 These figures were unassailable: the polls had been rigorously supervised. The turnout had been prodigious—20,000 more ballots were cast than during last year’s gubernatorial election—yet Roosevelt’s votes were 20 percent fewer than the Republican