The following article was copied, with the consent of the author, from H. P. Hall's Observations:
The following is the opening paragraph of a telegram I sent my paper. the St. Paul Globe, from Detroit, Minn., on the 12th of July, 1882:
"Hell reigneth. The Lord be praised. If the religious sentimen1s of these phrases seem to be mixed I can assure you that it corresponds to the political situation in the Fifth district."
"That was the famous day when the double-headed convention was held at Detroit and evolved Knute Nelson and C. F. Kindred as Republican candidates for Congress. The Fifth district was a monster territorially and in number of counties, having twenty-eight, as follows:
"Aitkin, Benton, Becker, Baltrami, Big Stone, Carlton, Cass, Cook, Crow Wing, Clay, Douglas, Grant, Itasca, KittsoIl, Lake, Marshall, Morrison, Mille Lacs, Otter Tail, Pope, Polk, Stearns, Stevens, St. Louis, Traverse, Todd, Wadena and Wilkin.
"It was the first election since the Fifth district had been constructed, and the rivalry for the nomination was intense. The leading candidates were Knute Nelson, of Alexandria, and C. F. Kindred, of Brainerd, though C. A. Gilman, of St. Cloud, and C. H. Graves, of Duluth, were in the field as well. Mr. Kindred was wealthy, and he spared no expense in materializing his boom. Kindred clubs were formed, brass bands were hired, printed matter was sent out, and sufficient paraphernalia gathered to run a national campaign. The Kindred forces went into the work with the enthusiasm born of youth and inexperience, while the Nelson forces stolidly relied upon his strength among his countrymen to carry him through.
"At first the county conventions called to send delegates to the district convention at Detroit were conducted with some degree of fairness, though in every case the contest would be a sharp one. After one or two county conventions had split and sent double delegates, a spirit of recklessness broke out, and whichever side rightfully had control of the county convention the other proceeded to make an excuse for a split and send a contesting delegation.
"There was absolutely no attempt to be fair in this contest for the Congressional nomination. This statement applies to both the Nelson and the Kindred forces, but a good deal more to the Kindred than to the Nelson men, because Nelson was really stronger, and had a more substantial backing than Kindred. Kindred in reality had but little backing but his money, and it was the deliberate plan whenever Nelson had carried a county for the Kindred men to come in and hold another convention, appointing a double delegation. Of course this bore the usual fruit of a split in the convention, and if the Scandinavian element had not been so enormously strong in Northern Minnesota it would have resulted in Knute Nelson's defeat, as well as Kindred's. As it was, Nelson proved invincible, and not only won in that campaign, but went on to win in the future, until he had achieved national renown.
In some cases an extra county convention was held without any pretense of authority, and it was very evident that Nelson and Kindred, or their friends, intended to make a double district convention. The result was that when the district convention was due to meet, there were only 18 out of 28 counties which could lay any claim to being "regular." When the Nelson and Kindred forces separated and held two conventions there were 20 counties represented in the Nelson convention and 23 in the Kindred department. Here was an aggregate of delegates from 43 counties in a district which contained but 28. The contests made the excess.
The call for the convention directed it to assemble at Bowman's hall, in Detroit, Minn., at I p. m., on the 12th of July. The interest and excitement were immense, and all signs pointed to a bloody riot as the result rather than to a harmonious convention. The delegates and the contestants aggregated 125, and it is no exaggeration to say that there were between three and four hundred outsiders present, as friends of the respective candidates. The little town was fairly wild, and I venture to say the five saloons never did so big business before nor since.
As usual the contestants began sparring for "regularity." The first point was to secure the temporary chairman, in order to capture the committee on credentials. It is usual for the chairman of the district committee to call the convention to order. Geo. H. Johnston, of Detroit, was the chairman, and though he professed friendship for Nelson, he was, in reality, a Kindred man. There were nine members of the committee present, and finding that they could not agree on any plan of organization, the Nelson men on the committee, by a vote of five, removed Johnston as chairman and appointed Lieut.-Gov. Barto, of Stearns, in his place. They considered three plans of organization: Admitting only uncontested delegates, admitting all and let them fight it out in convention, admitting those from counties which the chairman of the county committee would certify were "regular." The Nelson men on the committee insisted on absolutely naming the delegates who should be allowed to enter the hall, but this Johnston would not permit, and so it was a fight from the start. Detroit was a red-hot Kindred town, and the sheriff swore in thirty deputies, mostly, perhaps all, favorable to Kindred. The hall would not contain the crowd, and the sheriff and his deputies were on hand to prevent any but delegates entering. The Nelson men had erected a tent near the town, and there they gathered to march to the hall. The Kindred men, to guard against accidents, had smuggled a force into the hall at 11 a.m., and they had lunch sent in and camped there. When the Nelson men marched in a body from the tent to the hall they were astonished to, find all the .front seats occupied. There was great disturbance at the foot of the stairs. A good many Kindred delegates were still on the outside and all of the Nelson men. A Kindred and a Nelson man stood at the foot of the stairs and identified their respective delegates, and the sheriffs would only allow those to go up who were vouched for. The early camping in the hall of the Kindred men gave them a good many outsiders who had come to fight, if necessary, and in a square battle, which was expected, the Nelson men would have been thrashed. I think the fact that the Kindred men had by their device, gotten their forces in the hall in such numbers was a peace measure. There were probably a hundred men present in the hall with pistols in their pockets, and it was a wonder some one did not fire the first shot. If anyone had, it would have been gory before the last one was fired.
Johnston refused to be deposed from the chairmanship because he was appointed by the State Central Committee, and Capt. H. A. Castle, Secretary of the State Central Committee, was there to certify to the fact. It was 1:15 when Johnston struggled through the crowd to get to the platform, and Barto was close behind. When they reached the platform Johnston announced that they had decided to clear the hall, and then he and Barto would issue tickets, Barto said they would give Nelson and Kindred 100 each and Gilman and Graves 26 each. The Kindred men objected on the ground that Gilman and Graves were really for Nelson, and hence it would give the Nelson men the largest number. The Kindred men were satisfied as it was. While the controversy was going on, a Kindred man nominated E. G. Holmes, of Detroit, for chairman. Johnston put the motion and declared it carried. Holmes bounded to the platform in a twinkling and started his convention. The Nelson men were a little behind, but not much. Some Nelson man made a motion to elect S. G. Comstock, of Moorhead, temporary chairman, and Barto put the motion so quickly that Comstock leaped to the platform and began the Nelson convention only a few seconds behind the Kindred. Then there was pandemonium let loose. Everyone seemed to be yelling at the same time. Holmes and Comstock stood side by side and their respective adherents would rush to the front and make motions which the chairman would declare carried. After about five minutes of this scene, ex-Sheriff Mertz, of Brainerd, a very resolute man and a warm friend of Kindred, jumped on the platform and, grabbing Comstock, tried to pull him off, saying, "You have no business here." It was scarcely a second before 30 or 40 men were on the stage to aid Comstock and Mertz respectively, and they were a good deal hustled about. Comstock stood his ground well and resisted being dragged off the platform, but did not strike a blow. The crowd had overturned the reporters' table and we had mounted an extemporized table to get a view of the fight. As the excitement was at its highest, crash went our table and we were all tumbled promiscuously to the floor. I believe that little accident was providential. It made a laugh, and laughter and anger are not close friends. It also diverted attention for a moment and by the time we had picked ourselves up from the floor, the sheriff, with ten or twelve deputies, was on the platform commanding the peace and hustling men off the stage. Partial quiet was secured, when Johnston declared that he would recognize but one chairman, and that was Holmes. Barto, in reply, insisted that he (Barto) was chairman of the district committee by a vote of five out of nine. Capt. Castle's statement was then made; as already mentioned, and the Kindred men yelled.
Johnston then proceeded to read the call for the convention, a proceeding which should have been done before the chairman was selected. He was nearly through when it occurred to Barto to read it also, and he began on the same document. And then a fresh riot sprung up. Not a word of the reading could be heard, and eight or ten were trying to make speeches in the midst of the yells. Johnston finally shouted an order to clear the stage of everyone but the committee and the reporters. That would have removed both Holmes and Comstock. He said he had hired the hall and would have it cleared. On this announcement a Nelson man shouted: "I move the convention adjourn to the tent on the prairie." Comstock put the motion and declared it carried. Johnston was shouting in the meantime that the "regular" convention would be held in that hall and invited every one to remain. Comstock, notwithstanding he had declared the convention adjourned to the tent, did not want to lose any points on "regularity." He declined to go unless he was put out, so that he would have valid grounds for holding a convention somewhere else. As all the deputy sheriffs were Kindred men, one of them accommodated him by walking with him to the head of the stairs. H. L. Gordon, of Minneapolis (not a delegate or even a resident of the district) mounted a chair and urged the Nelson, Graves and Gilman men to leave. A deputy sheriff grabbed him and escorted him to the door as a disturber of the peace.
The doors had been guarded both from inside and out to keep the crowd from rushing in, and the stairway was so packed the Nelson men had great difficulty in leaving. Finally Mr. Bowman, the owner of the hall, got the doors open and spiked them, so that if there was another row upstairs there would be a chance to run. But the Kindred men remained in the hall, while the Nelson forces met at the tent, and two love feasts were set in motion.
Nelson may be said to have entered prominent political life direct from the tented field. The prairie breezes which fanned his brow that sultry July afternoon have been a kind harbinger to him and wafted him onward and upward until he reached the Senate. The only object of holding the convention in the tent must have been to put the crowd in a hot box, for it was literally a case of "standing room only," there being no seats or tables within, and it might as well have been held on the open prairie. But there was harmony, because all of those who were opposed to Nelson were attending the convention at Bowman's hall.
S. G. Comstock brought his right to be chairman at the hall to the tent. It was a case where a man took up his rank and walked. He accordingly called the tent convention to order and proceeded at once to prove that that was the "regular" convention and any other would be a fraud. He presented the report of the district committee, which the chairman, Mr. Johnston, of Detroit, would not recognize. That report disclosed that the district committee had acted as a committee of credentials as well, and had named delegates from 20 counties who were entitled to seats, leaving eight counties still to be heard from. This report was promptly adopted, and a few minutes later the platform was reported. It was about the usual style of platforms, except that it was bitter in its denunciation of Kindred and his followers, accusing them of corruption. Of course, it claimed to be the only original, blown in the bottle, "regular" convention.
When it came to nominations, Halvor Steenerson, of Crookston, sent up Nelson's balloon; C. A. Gilman was inflated by Gov. Barto, while Graves was depicted in glowing colors by D. G. Cash, of Duluth. Gilman and Graves had been candidates on the theory that Nelson and Kindred would so divide the delegates as to make a third man a necessity. They had allied themselves to the Nelson wing in the hope that if it proved that Nelson could not obtain it, his strength would go to them. Gilman and Graves had antagonized Kindred as sharply as had Nelson, and when the district convention split their forces had no other recourse save adhering to the Nelson wing. As a consequence, it was nonsense to present their names at the tent convention as that crowd was overwhelmingly for Nelson. But they went through the motions and took an informal ballot, which stood: Nelson, 44; Graves, 7; Gilman, 10. The formal ballot gave it to Nelson by 44 votes to 15 for the other two combined. Nelson responded with an acceptance speech which pledged his loyalty and "regularity" to the party, while insisting that the Kindred crowd represented everything which was bad, corrupt and "irregular." Gilman, Graves, H. L. Gordon, of Minneapolis, and Albert Scheffer, of St. Paul, all made ratification meeting speeches, and the Nelson campaign was launched.
While all this was going on in the tent, the Kindred men were working right along with their convention at Bowman's hall. The temporary chairman, Mr. Holmes, kept shouting while the Nelson men were leaving, that the only "regular" convention would be in that hall, but blood was up and no one halted. When the Nelson supporters had vanished the Kindred convention went ahead more harmoniously, if anything, than the tent affair because they did not have any other candidate than Kindred, even nominally. Geo. H. Johnston, the chairman of the district committee, was made permanent chairman. Johnston's speech on taking the chair was something unique. He declared that he had been a supporter of Nelson and had prepared a speech in his favor. He then proceeded with quite an eulogy of Nelson as a soldier and citizen, but now that Nelson had "bolted," as the speaker claimed, his party loyalty compelled him to stand by Kindred. That was cool, as he had been for Kindred all of the time. He then proceeded to claim that he had prepared to so rule as to admit 36 Kindred delegates and 42 for the field against him, and that Comstock and Barto had originally agreed to this, but had finally attempted to depose him from the chairmanship of the committee, because he would not consent to have the committee pass upon the credentials of the delegates, and actually name those entitled to seats.
Of course it took but a few minutes to have the committee on credentials report the Kindred delegates as contestants and all were admitted, and if any delegation was not full a proxy was supplied. The resolutions did not even take the trouble to declare loyalty to the Republican party, as the Nelson platform did. They were entirely devoted to claiming "regularity" and denouncing the other side as "dishonorable, despicable and most infamous." C. B. Sleeper, of Brainerd, named Kindred in a glowing speech, and no other name was presented. The roll call gave him 64 votes-all that were cast. Here were 64 votes in a convention which if full would have had 78. Nelson had 61 in his convention, which gave an aggregate of 125, or a surplus of 47 more than there would have been if only one convention had been held. Kindred was brought in and accepted, deprecating the trouble and the bringing in of the nationality question.
The evening in that little town was quite a wild one. Kindred had brought two or three brass bands, and they headed a procession which marched about the streets yelling like madmen. In fact, they were very mad men. In order to turn an honest penny the ladies of Detroit had opened a hall to give refreshments for the benefit of the village cemetery association. Kindred felt so good that he gave $100 outright to the association, and the boys on his side said that they wanted to finish up the cemetery to have a proper place for Nelson when they got through with him in the fall. As Kindred furnished the political corpse in November, he was wise in dedicating a cemetery at the beginning of the campaign.
There were hot discussions between the partisans until the trains left, but no absolute violence, though the air was frequently split with yells and emphatic adjectives.
The question of which was the "regular" convention was the great controversy throughout the campaign. It was very hard to ascertain the truth, for both Nelson and Kindred men had resorted to all kinds of tricks known to the political trade to capture delegates. I am inclined to think, outside of leaving the hall at Detroit where the convention was called to meet, Nelson had the best of the "regularity," but with that thrown in Kindred's favor, it gave him the "regular" advantage. In 1868 almost the entire excuse for calling Donnelly a bolter was because he was nominated for Congress at a different place from the hall designated in the call. The only way the Nelson men could have been more regular was to have remained and had a fight, but as a stray bullet might have hit a newspaper man I was always willing to waive the irregularity of their departure from the hall. As the Kindred men, by the coup d'etat of getting possession of the hall at an early hour, had two to one on the inside of the building, they could have thrown the Nelson men out bodily, and that would have made it "regular" for them to have gone to another place for their convention, on the ground that they had been physically assaulted. I give this as a legal ruling on political regularity and as an inducement to bring on a fight, if such a condition of affairs ever exists again. The Republican state committee sat in judgment on the "regularity" and decided that Nelson was the "regular" nominee. How circumstances alter cases and how worthless such decisions are was illustrated by the decision against Donnelly in 1868 (which I have already noted) for doing exactly what was approved in Nelson's case in 1882.
Next to the "regularity" problem, the point to be settled was what would the Democrats do? The Nelson men did not feel that they had much hope from the Democratic votes, and were anxious to have a Democrat nominated. The Kindred men thought they could secure a good many Democrats, and were equally anxious to have no Democratic nominee. It seemed almost certain that without a Democratic nominee, Nelson would be defeated. The Democrats at first seemed inclined to give Kindred the chance, but they finally held a convention, Sept. 7, at Fergus Falls. E. P. Barnum, of Stearns County, Robert Miller, of Otter Tail, and R. C. Moore, of Stearns, were candidates. There was no excitement at the convention, and the attendance was not large. One ballot did the business, standing: Barnum, 49; Miller, 18; Moore, 19; scattering, 10. Strenuous efforts were made by the Kindred people to get Barnum to withdraw. All of these efforts (and some of them were very liberal) were unavailing, and Barnum remained his party standard bearer, though certain of defeat.
The canvass was intensely personal and exciting. Kindred spent money lavishly and the Nelson forces had a good deal. Kindred had workers in every county, doing nothing else from the time he was nominated, in July, until November. In many cases where newspapers were hostile he established new ones. His army of clerks and his literary bureau were expensive. Brass bands, torchlight processions, special trains, etc., were the common occurrence, and when you come to spread this out over 28 big counties, many of them having to be canvassed by private conveyance to make up the poll of the district, the expense amounted to something enormous. Well informed men claimed at the time that Kindred expended $225,000. This may be too large, but I think it is extremely conservative to say that he put in $150,000. Minnesota is not likely to see the counterpart of that fight again. Mr. Kindred is now a resident of Philadelphia. I hear he has been lucky in some speculations and has largely, perhaps entirely, recovered his fortune, which was so sadly shattered by that campaign. He was the most liberal and energetic political plunger the state has ever seen.
The vote in November, electing Nelson, stood: Nelson, 16,956; Kindred, 12,238; Barnum, 6,248. Two years before, in the presidential campaign, which always brings out the vote, those same counties gave Garfield (Rep.) 15,442, and Hancock (Dem.) 8,405. In 1881, just one year previous, the Republican vote in the district for governor was 13,831 and 6,595 Democratic. This shows that Barnum was strong with the Democrats and held well up to his party vote, but the Republicans exceeded their presidential vote of 1880 by nearly 14,000, and their gubernatorial vote of 1881, the previous year, by nearly 16,000. As Barnum only fell behind Hancock's vote about 2,000, and was only 347 below the Democratic vote of '81, the great influx of voters must have been Republicans. In John Hay's famous poem, "Little Breeches," he tells of a little boy being transported from the embrace of the deadly winter storms to the warm sheep fold, and says:
"How did he get thar? Angels."
I am inclined to attribute the sudden irruption of Republican voters in that district to the same divine agency and let it stand at that. But no one disputes that Knute Nelson's original election to Congress was a wave from the North sea. We used to sing, "In the North sea lived a whale." Things have changed. He seems to have migrated to Minnesota and brought his whole family.