Yes, Warren Harding was a dark horse, and yes, it did happen in a smoke filled room… BUT…
Leading Up To 1920
There was an odd assortment of coincidences that created the “perfect storm” of enthusiasm for Harding.
Two years prior to the election of 1920, both major parties were in either flux or disarray or confusion.
On the Democratic side, President Woodrow Wilson, the man who kept us out of war in 1916, finally brought us into the Great War only weeks after his second inauguration. Eventually the once-reasonably-popular President became very un-popular, had a couple of serious strokes, and was a mere shell of himself. None of the “available” Democrats rose to the level needed, and even the “B” or “C” team generated little enthusiasm. Wilson did not take part at all.
On the Republican side, in 1918 most Republicans were willing to forgive ex-President Theodore Roosevelt for his Progressive (Bull Moose) schism in 1912. He was still viable; he was still popular, and he was only sixty. But unbeknownst to most, TR was a sick man, having lived three lives at a time for most of those sixty years. He died in January, 1919.
He had not groomed anyone for the Presidency, nor did the few likely contenders generate much enthusiasm either – and indeed were more apt to fight amongst themselves than to harness a team.
Senator Warren G. Harding
Warren Harding (1865-1923), as human as they came, was an amalgam of virtues and failings. On the virtue side, he was a helluva nice guy. He had an easy smile, a strong and warm handshake, and his “nice to see ya” greetings were sincere. Very few people could say they didn’t like him. On the failing side, it wasn’t that he was lazy so much as he was lethargic. He preferred the easy way – doing what came naturally to him.
As the editor/publisher of the local newspaper in Marion, OH, he was one of the best known men in town. Everybody knew him; most men called him by his first name, and he returned that camaraderie. As a popular guest speaker (“bloviating”, as he called it) at the civic and fraternal organizations in the area, it was short hop to political office.
By 1900, he was elected to the State Legislature, and then for a term as Lt. Governor, one of his best jobs! No heavy lifting, and the ceremonial duties fit like a glove. Now he began bloviating all over the state, and all the Republican politicos knew him. In 1914 he was elected to the Senate. Now he was invited to bloviate across the country.
He liked that job too. He fit in well with the Old Boys Club, never introduced substantive legislation, voted according to GOP trends, and answered his mail. Piece of cake.
Suffice it to say that in 1920, when he was up for re-election to the Senate, he was a shoo-in, and was looking forward to it.
Harry Daugherty et al
Harry Daugherty was an Ohio fellow, more sleaze than stellar, but he and his cohorts had been promoting WGH as “a man who looked like a President” for years, and now he put his heart and soul into achieving that goal.
By 1920, between Daugherty’s efforts, WGH’s affability and bloviate-ability, Harding was becoming everyone’s 2nd, 3rd or 4th choice. He knew everybody. Some people considered him “the best of the second-raters.” Certainly the most affable, and disinclined to fight with anyone. Daugherty predicted that Harding would be nominated by party bigwigs at 2 AM in a smoke-filled hotel room.
But the big fly in that ointment was Harding himself. He was never wildly enthusiastic about the Presidency, and always considered himself “unqualified for the job.” He preferred to remain in the Senate where it was a) easier,
b) pleasanter, c) a better fit for himself, and d) the ol’ bird-in-the-hand.
When they got to Chicago for the convention, WGH waffled throughout. Ohio law prevented a candidate to run for simultaneous office. It was one or the other. He had already filled out paperwork for the Senate spot, waiting until the last day of eligibility. Daugherty and Mrs. Harding pulled out all the stops to keep him from mailing it.
Chicago…and Memories of 1880
There were still several politicians who recalled the Republican convention of 1880, when deadlocks occurred and it took 36 ballots to put forward the relatively unknown James A. Garfield. Nobody wanted a re-run of that misery. Everybody wanted the convention over and done with.
Alas, this was not looking good. General Leonard Wood, IL Governor Frank Lowden and CA Sen. Hiram Johnson were the front runners, and could not got along at all, either amongst themselves or with party leaders.
In 1920, as in 1880, there was another heat wave, and air conditioning was still not available. And hotel prices in Chicago were much higher than they had been in 1880. This was a deal-breaker.
It had become imperative to many delegates that the nomination be over and done on Saturday, June 12. Six ballots had already been taken, and there was little movement among the leaders. Sunday, being the Sabbath, the delegates would not convene.
This entailed yet another day or possibly more of expense for the delegates – who had to pay their own way! Hotels, transportation, meals, drinks, entertainment, etc.
That included Harding, a man of average means, who was picking up the tab for himself and his missus, a few underlings – plus all the expense of the usual hospitality centers.
Thus the smoke filled room in the wee hours of Saturday, June 12, 1920.
Sources:
Stoddard, Henry L. – As I Knew Them – Harper & Brothers, 1927
Russell, Francis – The Shadow of Blooming Grove – McGraw Hill, 1965
Sinclair, Andrew – The Available Man – Macmillan Co., 1968
http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/3217.html
