Levi P. Morton, ex-Vice-President of the United States and governor of the mighty State of New York, a man of glorious record and accepted ability, who was honored and respected by friends and foes, was also of the array of eligible men whose friends asked for him the nomination.
Quay of Pennsylvania, Alger of Michigan, Sherman of Ohio, Thurston of Nebraska, all of the best kind of “Presidential timber,” and numerous others of more or less distinction, capacity and merit, were warmly and enthusiastically urged by their partisans.
Governor Morton quickly announced that he would not allow himself to be made a candidate before the convention unless a real one, meaning that he must not be placed in such a position as a compliment to himself and his following, or with the idea of using him as the means for securing the nomination of some one else. Hon. Thomas Platt, the shrewd and powerful manipulator of politics and politicians, had secured the pledge of the New York delegation for Morton, and with such an array of 34 electoral votes from such a State, Morton seemed to be a formidable man in the situation, with an endorsement to be proud of and one that would command the deference of that great body.
New England was strong in her pride and confidence in her brilliant son, and had won many promises for Reed, but small revolts here and there made his hold precarious, and the defection of Congressman Manley of Maine at the very moment when his influence and assistance was most necessary seriously and dangerously affected Reed’s chances. Appalled by the mighty array that favored McKinley, the Maine Congressman deserted the New England favorite and dismay and disorganization took possession of their camp.
Much there was of this preliminary skirmishing among the partisans of all the available ones, but in it all a potent fact was staring at the fight, and became so apparent that it was at last candidly acknowledged.
The feeling for Governor William McKinley of Ohio was constantly gathering strength. The pressure from outside was too strong to withstand. For weeks before the convention the Republican public had been shouting McKinley, and in a tone that could not be ignored. The voice and the force of the people pressed hard upon the convention. The newspapers teemed with his praise; his face and record were constantly being presented; buttons bearing his portrait and mottoes that epitomized his principles were seen everywhere, in city, town and country, and thousands who had been, theretofore, but little interested in politics became enthusiastic champions of the man from Ohio.