The Campaign of 1888 took place at the height of the Gilded Age. The Industrial Revolution was transforming at an increasing pace the economic and social structure of the United States. General prosperity accelerated throughout the nation, but the distribution of wealth and the political influence that followed it gravitated toward a small number of elites who ruled over American industry and transportation with a degree of power that evaded even the more prominent politicians of the day. The financial “combination,” or “trust” (what we today call “monopoly”), was fast becoming the preferred way of amalgamating and directing the growing economy from within the private sector, and one that enabled just a few men—scarcely a handful, really—to gain nearly undisputed control of the nation’s exponentially expanding wealth.
In response to growing anger expressed by Midwestern and Western farmers and small businessmen directed against monopolistic practices, particularly within the railroads, Congress passed the Interstate Commerce Act of 1877 under President Rutherford B. Hayes, creating and charging the new Interstate Commerce Commission with the authority and means to investigate unfair rates set by the railroads, rates that favored corporate interests. Despite widespread popular concern over the intensifying concentration of economic power, the dominant factions within both the Republican and Democratic parties largely ignored populist issues and pressures during the Campaign of 1888. Conservatives in both parties (viz., Old Guard Republicans and Bourbon Democrats) tended to welcome the trust and the power it could deftly and, according to their point of view, intelligently wield, even to the point of considering the trust to be a more effective agent than the federal government’s executive branch in guiding the country into a promising future of economic abundance. Thus instead of questioning the rise of the trust and all that it implied, the election was largely a battle over a familiar, and now (in the wake of the Civil War and the controversies over Reconstruction) comparatively safe, issue—protective tariffs, along with another issue that had been growing in importance, monetary policy.
Grover Cleveland’s 1884 victory over James G. Blaine had surprised the dominant Republican Party. Even though Congress had passed the Civil Service Reform Act of 1883 that reduced (but did not eliminate) the influence of political patronage, the loss of the White House still meant that the Republican Party lost thousands of patronage appointments. Republicans believed that the reliable tariff debate would provide them with the best issue in their quest to regain the presidency without having to cater to the more populist elements within the party as well as the greater electorate. It was an argument that the Republicans managed to great effect. A high tariff, as the argument typically holds, would protect domestic industries from foreign competitors and encourage both expanding margins of profit and higher wages, and thus a general prosperity for all, capital and labor alike.
President Cleveland, as the incumbent Democrat, was affiliated with the conservative Bourbon faction of his party and thus held fast to laissez-faire economic policies, which at that time was in fact a traditional Democratic position going all the way back to President Jackson, and it could be traced even earlier to the Monroe Era. These policies included strong support for low tariffs. Because of their heavy reliance upon agricultural exports to generate income, southern states had historically opposed protective tariffs and thus were supportive of Bourbon candidates. Western states, which also relied heavily on agriculture, now joined, at least in part, the South in opposing protective tariffs. Although the anti-tariff position played well in southern states and parts of the West, the policy made it much more difficult for Democrats to attract votes in industrial midwestern and northeastern states; and it was in the Northeast, especially New York, where Cleveland’s previous campaign had found the needed votes to break the GOP in the North, the tipping point that gave him the White House. At the same time, the rapidly strengthening temperance movement that was strongly aligned with various (but not all) Protestant churches could cause problems for both parties by potentially drawing away needed votes. Finally, the issue of bimetallism, or Free Silver, reappeared as a main point of division within both parties, but especially within the Democratic Party; Gold Bug Bourbon Democrats were pitted against the rest of the party that, for the most part, advocated Free Silver.
At the Democratic National Convention in St. Louis, a highly esteemed President Cleveland easily won renomination. Former senator and presidential contender Allen G. Thurman of Ohio, known as “the Nestor of the Democratic Party” owing to his reputation as a wise counselor, was nominated on the first ballot to fill the vacancy left by the death of Vice President Hendricks. Atypically for the time, Thurman was already identified prior to the convention by Cleveland and his advisers as the president’s preferred running mate for the upcoming campaign, a practice that would not really take hold until well into the latter half of the twentieth century. An old Jacksonian, Thurman, also known as “the Old Roman,” had gained a reputation as a venerable party sage, having devoted over five decades of distinguished service that began under the administration of President Polk. Both the party leadership and the rank and file embraced Thurman as a symbol of party unity and tradition, one that could bridge the growing divisions between the conservative and populist elements.
However, Thurman’s health was deteriorating, and even though he accepted the responsibility that came with the nomination, the elder statesman had initially expressed dismay and no small degree of irritation at his selection. Many in the party would come to realize this soon after the convention. Moreover, Cleveland soon became aware that these growing divisions between the conservative and populist wings of the Democratic Party could not be repaired simply by nominating an esteemed, aging member for the second spot on the ticket. These divisions were not so easily closed, and they still threatened to split the coalition that Cleveland needed to win again in 1884. President Cleveland and the pro-business Bourbons of the Northeast, along with the Redeemers of the South (who were committed to states’ rights), represented the conservative faction of the party. In contrast, the populist wing of the party placed bimetallism, or the free coinage of silver, at the center of its agenda. President Cleveland, leading the conservative Bourbons and Redeemers, supported the gold standard, a position that put him closer to the Republicans. To this end, Cleveland recommended the suspension of the circulation of silver coins, thereby alienating Democratic populists, especially in the West, where miners were invested in the currency of both gold and silver. Additionally, Cleveland’s sincere efforts to expand civil service reform angered many partisans, who had concluded that once the Democrats were able to gain power in the election of 1884, the president should have made full use of his patronage powers to reward his partisan supporters and strengthen the influence of the party. Tammany Hall, never a friend to Cleveland, was particularly incensed over Cleveland’s attempt to eliminate patronage, a situation that threatened Cleveland’s ever-critical support in New York.
The Republican convention was held that June in Chicago. Even though their previous nominee, Senator James G. Blaine, had lost the presidential contest to Grover Cleveland in 1884, the popular vote had been very close (a change of 1,100 or so votes in New York would have swung the election in his favor); thus for a time, it seemed likely that Blaine would try one more time, forcing a rematch against the man whom he had nearly beaten in the prior election. However, Blaine realized that while he still had many loyal supporters, he also was opposed by a strident anti-Blaine faction, and that even if he managed to gain the votes to win the nomination, which was possible, the convention might take an ugly turn, dividing and weakening the party even more than it had been in the previous election due to the defection of the reformist Mugwumps. He was also uncomfortable about claiming the front-runner status after having already been defeated as the party’s standard-bearer in that same election. Hence, shortly before the start of the convention, Blaine made it clear that he did not want the Republican nomination, an announcement that now produced a wide-open field. “A man,” Blaine admitted, “who has once been the candidate of his party—and defeated—owes it to his party not to be a candidate again.”
All told, eighteen candidates enjoyed some degree of support at the convention (including Blaine, whose loyalists remained hopeful for another run). Among this high number of candidates, a front-runner did emerge as the convention commenced—John Sherman of Ohio, the brother of General William Tecumseh Sherman and a notable figure in his own right, one who had already received some support for the presidency at the previous two conventions. Sherman—backed by industrialist Mark Hanna, an emerging player who was becoming a major force in the direction of Republican presidential campaigns—was well regarded for his intelligence and capable service in both the legislative and executive branches. It appeared to be Sherman’s turn for the party’s endorsement, particularly now that Blaine’s star was clearly in the descendant. Thus, Sherman and his supporters worked hard to promote his candidacy in the weeks leading up to the convention. Most of the eighteen candidates were unable to win more than a handful of votes. In reality, only five candidates, in addition to Sherman, drew notable support: Russell Alger of Michigan; William Allison of Iowa; Chauncey Depew, a favorite of New York; and two from Indiana, William Q. Gresham and Benjamin Harrison, the grandson of President William Henry Harrison and great-grandson of Benjamin Harrison V, a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Harrison did not have the political record to match Sherman, but he had ably served as a general during the Civil War and he carried the renowned Harrison name. More importantly, he was supported by a cohort of savvy and influential political strategists, among them Wharton Barker and Stephen Elkins, a former Blaine lieutenant, who worked diligently behind the scenes to promote a Harrison candidacy. Harrison also enjoyed the support of Theodore Roosevelt and Henry Cabot Lodge, a tight political team who had fast gained national reputations as promising young leaders within the party. The rest of the field, which included notable personalities such as Frederick Douglass, Robert Todd Lincoln, and William McKinley (another Hanna protégé), never produced a serious challenger.
At the convention Sherman held his position as front-runner for six ballots but was not able to gain momentum, thus producing a degree of anxiety among his followers. His candidacy, it soon became apparent, depended too much upon support in the southern delegation, which was at that time the least reliable in the party and a poor forecast for Sherman’s appeal in the general election. Additionally, Sherman’s advisers built their strategy around the mistaken assumption that Blaine was still the major contender, and thus they were unprepared to stem competition from an alternate rival. During a recess between the third and fourth ballots, Depew, New York’s favorite son, withdrew his name, leading the New York delegates, which included Roosevelt, to express their interest in General Harrison. Sherman’s people were caught flatfooted and soon fell into despair, realizing that their efforts had been blunted and even entertaining the possibility of asking their candidate to withdraw with his dignity intact. But a determined Sherman was not prepared to quit just yet. However, a turn of events followed Depew’s decision, propelling Harrison from a distant fourth to a close second on the fourth ballot, and by the seventh ballot, he had displaced Sherman in the lead. Building on this momentum, Harrison secured the nomination on the eighth ballot, winning 544 votes. The convention then nominated Levi P. Morton of New York, who had previously served both as governor and as a member of the House of Representatives, as well as in the diplomatic corps, for vice president on the first ballot.
There was sound electoral strategy behind this combination; Harrison was from Indiana, the only midwestern state lost to Cleveland in 1884 (and a state that also went for the Democrat Samuel Tilden in 1876), and Morton was from New York, the one state that had sealed Cleveland’s victory, and the GOP’s fate, in that very same election. With Harrison and Morton, it was believed that the Republicans could return Indiana and New York to their fold, which would virtually guarantee victory. Harrison also brought his distinguished military record to the ticket, strengthening his overall appeal; and Morton, a respected banker by profession, was attractive to the Republican base. Significantly, the roles filled by Hanna, Wharton, and Elkins behind the scenes indicated that the party was now being steered by a new leadership, one that was more interested in making presidents than actually being president. Such figures have always been present in the American political landscape, but their efforts were now becoming more sophisticated and sustained, in effect creating the prototype for the modern campaign manager.
As stated above, the Republican Party platform again endorsed protective tariffs, which served to be a key issue in their cause; expressed support for the use of gold and silver as currency, stating that it “condemns the policy of the Democratic Administration in its efforts to demonetize silver”; opposed the practice of polygamy (a plank directed at the Mormon Church); supported the repeal of the federal tax on tobacco; opposed the use of Chinese contract labor; supported the regulation of railroad rates by the federal government and states; and endorsed free public education. Equally important, the Republican convention passed a prohibition resolution, asserting that “the first concern of all good government is the virtue and sobriety of the people and the purity of their homes. The Republican party cordially sympathizes with all wise and well-directed efforts for the promotion of temperance and morality.”
The Republican temperance plank indicated just how important the issue had become in recent years. The Prohibition Party, gaining more adherents, held its convention in Indianapolis, nominating for the presidency New Jersey’s Clinton B. Fisk, a principal supporter of Fisk College (which was named for him), and John A. Brooks of Missouri as vice president. Besides proposing a nationwide ban on the manufacture, importation, transportation, and sale of alcoholic beverages, the platform of the Prohibition Party included a number of principles that would be associated with progressivism: opposing protective tariffs, supporting the right of women to vote, endorsing the further expansion of civil service reforms, and calling for the abolition of polygamy. In addition to the Prohibition Party, a pro-labor party, the Union Labor Party, nominated Alson Streeter to head its ticket. Other minor parties, such as the Know-Nothing American Party, still offered candidates but drew little interest.
Both Harrison and Cleveland chose to conduct front-porch campaigns by remaining home and foregoing national tours. It was painfully remembered that the national tour was a tactic that had backfired on Blaine, for it was while he was on tour in New York that he ran into the problems caused by Reverend Samuel Burchard’s anti-Catholic remarks. While Harrison benefited from the services of his surrogates on the campaign trail—numbering among them Theodore Roosevelt, whose rhetorical skills and captivating personality proved to be an invaluable asset to the Republican cause—he did not sit by passively. Remaining at home to conduct his own front-porch campaign, Harrison proved to be an elegant orator, meeting small gatherings almost daily and delivering a series of speeches that, when published for broader dissemination, were largely admired for their clean argument and intellectual force. President Cleveland, by contrast, was less involved, relying upon Thurman, his running mate, to wade into the fray while he remained “presidential” and aloof. But Thurman, because of his health, was no longer equal to the task, even though he made every effort to accept this responsibility. His speeches were usually cut short owing to his diminished energy, and they were often sprinkled with worrisome complaints about his deteriorating condition, a condition now visibly evident to a concerned public—he struggled on the platform, often wobbled, and on one occasion nearly fell into the audience. Making use of its greater financial resources, the Republican Party also put together a much more effective campaign organization, which included extensive canvassing by Republican Clubs, reminiscent of the Wide-Awakes who lobbied for Abraham Lincoln in the 1860s.
In comparison to the scandalmongering of previous campaigns, the Campaign of 1888 involved very little mudslinging, a refreshing and happy circumstance largely attributed to both Cleveland’s and Harrison’s personalities as well as their reputations for integrity. One unscrupulous dirty trick did damage Cleveland’s chances to carry the ever-vital New York. Under the alias of Charles Murchison, George Osgoodby, a Republican fruit grower from California, wrote a phony letter to Britain’s foreign minister currently assigned to Washington. In a politically motivated sting, Osgoodby pretended to be a newly nationalized American from Britain requesting advice on which candidate to support in the upcoming election. When the minister, duped by the ruse, responded favorably for Cleveland, Osgoodby shared the British endorsement with the press. The Murchison letter worked its intended result, angering New York’s Irish Catholic (and decidedly anti-British) voters, a bloc within the Empire State’s electorate that had proved decisive for Cleveland in the previous election, at that time favoring Cleveland in the wake of the “Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion” scandal that had detrimentally attached to Blaine’s campaign. In a striking reversal of fortune, the Murchison letter did to Cleveland in New York exactly what Reverend Burchard’s remarks did to Blaine in 1884, damaging the president’s efforts and helping him to lose the biggest electoral cache in the nation. It must also be remembered that Cleveland’s ongoing feud with New York City’s Tammany Hall also cost him, for it is difficult to carry the state without the city—and, in the nineteenth century, to carry the city without Tammany. Historians have also concluded that the GOP position on the tariff, as well as other pro-business attitudes, was important in helping them to strengthen anew their base throughout the industrial North.
The actual election in November was a near carbon copy of 1884, with two key exceptions: New York and Indiana returned to the Republican fold, giving Harrison the Electoral College victory that had barely eluded Blaine. In the popular vote, President Cleveland actually won more votes than the challenger, a scenario reminiscent of the election of 1876. Cleveland’s popular tally set a record of just around 5,540,000 votes (a 48.6% plurality) to the 5,450,000 (47.8%) for Harrison. But it was in the Electoral College where Harrison won the election, winning 233 to Cleveland’s 168 (58% to 42%), thus dislodging the incumbent to become the twenty-third president, rendering irrelevant the fact that Cleveland outpolled Harrison in the popular vote by 90,000 votes, a wider margin of victory than the one he enjoyed over Blaine in the election of 1884 that sent him to the White House. Again, and as expected, New York made all the difference: Between the trouble with the Irish Catholic vote that was stirred up by the fake Murchison letter, Cleveland’s ongoing conflict with Tammany Hall, and votes likely snatched away by the Prohibition Party (which won over 30,000 of its 250,000 total votes in New York, some of which, it must be noted, may have gone to the GOP), New York swung away from its native son and rallied behind Harrison, the gap between the two candidates in the Empire State being around 15,000 votes (compared to the 1,100-vote gap that leaned to Cleveland in 1884 in the wake of the rum-and-Romanism fiasco). Indiana was also lost to the Democrats, but it was losing New York that sealed Cleveland’s fate.
For the third time in American history, a candidate who won the popular vote lost the election. All three cases were distinctive. In 1824, Andrew Jackson won a plurality in both the Electoral College and the popular vote, polling ahead of the three other candidates that election year, but lost the election when it was sent to the House of Representatives for resolution. In 1876, Samuel Tilden won a clear majority in the popular vote but lost by just one vote in the Electoral College after disputed votes had been granted to his rival, Rutherford B. Hayes, by an independent ad hoc Electoral Commission. In 1888, Cleveland, an incumbent president, won a plurality of the popular vote but lost decisively in the Electoral College, this time involving neither the House of Representatives nor a separate electoral board. While three elections in the nineteenth century were decided against the outcome of the popular vote, such a situation would become rare, occurring only one more time 112 years later in the controversial election of 2000. Thus Benjamin Harrison became the fifth Republican to be elected to the presidency since the party’s inaugural campaign in 1856, and in so doing he restored, at least for the moment, Republican domination of the White House. But Grover Cleveland, who had been the sixth Democrat to be elected president since its first triumph under President Jackson in 1828, and the first Democrat to win since Abraham Lincoln began Republican primacy in 1860, was not quite finished. The following election would provide an opportunity for a rematch and a return.
The American Presidency Project. http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu.
Calhoun, Charles W. Minority Victory: Gilded Age Politics and the Front Porch Campaign of 1888. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2008.
Watts, J. F. “1888.” In Arthur M. Schlesinger, Fred L. Israel, and David J. Frent, eds. Running for President: The Candidates and Their Images. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1994.
Wessen, Robert. “Election of 1888.” In Arthur M. Schlesinger, Fred Israel, and William P. Hansen, eds. History of American Presidential Elections, 1789–1968. Vol. 2. New York: Chelsea House, 1985.