James Mount (1897-1901) Governor James Mount was born in Montgomery County in 1843 and fought in the Civil War as a young man. He was part of the Lightning Brigade and volunteered for charges against superior forces at Chickumaga. He was also a scout, leading the way during Sherman’s March to the Sea when Sherman determined to make the South howl.
He came home and began working a farm from the ground up, developing a reputation for business acumen, helping develop co-ops and teaching other farmers how to negotiate the sale of their crops. In 1888, he was one of the farmers recruited by the Republicans in an effort to beat back the influence of the Populists. (This was the movement that brought Gov. Claude Matthews into the fold.) He served for a time in the Indiana General Assembly, then ran — with some reluctance — for Congress. When he was defeated, he went back to farming. However, in 1893, the Panic of that year caused enormous problems for farmers. Republicans swept into power in the 1894 mid-term elections. Prompted by a concern for the agricultural economy, Mount ran for the governor’s office in 1896.
Cyclists and Sound Money
Interestingly, it turns out, bicyclist organizations figured prominently during the 1896 campaign. “Founded in 1880, the [League of American Wheelmen] was a national organization of cyclists whose members worked to promote a greater appreciation and awareness of cycling, to encourage cycling-friendly legislation, to stand behind cyclists who felt they had been mistreated by state and local governments or other entities such as railroad corporations, and, above all, to encourage the construction and maintenance of good roads.” Enthusiasm for cycling grew from then and seemed to peak in the mid 1890s and, due to its popularity and political organization of the cyclists, politicians began to court their vote. LAW was nonpartisan, but cyclists meshed well with McKinley’s campaign strategy. McKinley’s “front porch” strategy was contrasted with Bryan’s whistle stop tour. Cyclists were politically interested and could come to Canton, Ohio to McKinley’s front porch and they could return home where they had the mobility to distribute Republican campaign literature.
Cyclists would be the perfect campaigners. First of all, there were thousands of them and their numbers were growing, so much so that bicycle manufacturers could hardly keep up with demand. And not only did cyclists love to be part of a crowd, they also displayed an impressive ability to draw a crowd of their own. In 1895, one Fourth of July bicycle derby in Chicago, for example, drew 25,000 people. Cyclists were also willing to travel long distances to take part in cycling events. Independence, Iowa, celebrated that same Fourth of July with bicycle races that included participants who had traveled as far as sixty miles to compete, and even the wheelmen’s tournament that was held in Cheyenne, Wyoming, that day drew spectators from as far away as Denver and Fort Collins, Colorado. Surely cyclists would come to Canton, too. There were hundreds and probably even thousands of bicycle clubs across the country, many of whose members were enthusiastic young businessmen with interests that the Republican Party promised to protect. It was in their best interest to come to Canton. And once they had come and seen for themselves what a great man McKinley was, they would go home and start spreading the word about the GOP. They could help distribute all that campaign literature, too. A man on a bicycle, after all, would be able to cover more territory in less time than a man traveling on foot. Cyclists could also travel far out into the country and reach small towns and farms that may have had limited contact with more densely populated and politically informed areas.
In Fort Wayne, while a gubernatorial candidate, James Mount received a warm reception from the “Sound Money Bicycle Club.” The Club had 400 members, took part in parades and races, and escorted Republican speakers from Fort Wayne to the smaller outlying towns.
Cycling was not an inherently partisan activity, and LAW received criticism for some pro-Republican stances. But, at the time, Republicans seemed to have taken better advantage of the cycling craze than the Democrats. Michael Taylor, author of the above linked article, says “when all was said and done, however, Democrats did a relatively poor job of winning cyclists over to their side. Bryan’s sober, evangelical image clashed with the lighthearted, carefree spirit of the bicycle boom.” (There is also a good bit in there about Indianapolis’ mayor, Thomas Taggart’s full court press at the 1897 L.A.W. convention in Philadelphia to convince them to have their 1898 convention. Of Indianapolis, Taggart told reporters, “It will be worth the trip to enjoy a ride over the streets where a century run can be made without leaving asphalt and without covering the same territory twice.”)
White Capping
As you might recall from a previous installment, during the late 19th century, there was a “white cap” movement in Southern Indiana. Their methods were similar to that of the Ku Klux Klan’s (lynching, drowning, arson, whipping, night attacks), but the movements are considered distinct and the ostensible goals of the White Caps were not racial but, instead, to enforce morality — targeting men who were thieves, drunks, adulterers, or not supporting their families and women who weren’t sufficiently family oriented. That said, as the movement moved from Southern Indiana to the South, it was predictably used by poor whites to persecute black people. In Indiana, Governors Gray, Hovey, and Matthews tried to curb the white cappers. Not so much Governor Mount. He had been president of the “Horse Thief Detective Association” in 1892. It was a prominent vigilante association, devoted to “privately defending” county farmers. As such, he was not inclined to be as active as his predecessors in deterring the White Cap organizations.
Next time: A hodgepodge, including the story of pi.
Leave a Reply