GOVERNOR CLEVELAND'S RECEPTION IN BROOKLYN 



[Excerpt from Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, New 

 York City, October 25, 1884, p. 151.] 



A great Democratic demonstration tooli place in the 

 City of Brooklyn on the i6th instant. Two of the prin- 

 cipal features were a barbecue at Ridgewood Park and 

 a parade in honor of Governor Cleveland, who was the 

 guest of the Democracy of the city. In the forenoon, 

 the Governor was given receptions in the Academy of 

 Music and the Pierrepont House, where he was waited 

 upon by a large number of prominent citizens. The 

 procession was some three miles in length and was one 

 of the most notable which has been seen in Brooklyn. 

 The Governor rode in an open carriage drawn by four 

 horses, and was everywhere received with great en- 

 thusiasm. Tlie streets were crowded with people, and 

 the houses in many places gayly festooned. When pass- 



ing No. 90 Lafayette Avenue, some fifty children dressed 

 in white appeared with hands full of flowers which they 

 threw into the Governor's carriage .... 



The procession reached the park shortly after two 

 o'clock, amid the booming of cannon and the cheers of 

 the crowd already on the ground. In the large dining- 

 room of the hotel was spread a table for 250 guests. 

 Three oxen had been roasted, and were ready for carving 

 at twelve o'clock. They were Kentucky steers, and 

 weighed in the aggregate of 5,500 pounds. The beef 

 was cut in juicy slices, while a corps of forty men made 

 them up into delicious sandwiches. It is estimated that 

 the multitude consumed 60,000 sandwiches, washed 

 down with 5,000 kegs of beer. Later in the day. Gover- 

 nor Cleveland made a brief address to the multitude, 

 and in the evening reviewed a torchlight parade. 



THE TORCH-LIGHT PARADER 



[Excerpt from Harper's ]\'eeUv, New York City, October 

 8, 1892, p. 971.] 



"Campaign equipments," as lavishly advertised and 

 sold for a month past, do not mean tabulated statements 

 of the workings of the McKinley bill, or party platforms, 

 or any other kind of furnishing for the intellectual ap- 

 paratus. They are tin helmets and breastplates, wooden 

 spears and battle axes with kerosene torches at their 

 tops, and leggings, capes, and tunics in limitless variety 

 of shape, material, and color. The American voter is 

 not without the sense of humor, and will probably take 

 it in good part if, when he has rigged himself out in all 

 this fantastic toggery, he is compared to that gorgeous 

 squad that formed the military escort of Dromedary 

 Dodd's Hebdomadal Picnics in Mr. Stevenson's story of 

 "The Wreckers." Describing the punctual picnic band, 

 "booming down street with .... some score of gratuitous 

 asses prancing at the head in bearskin hats and buck- 

 skin aprons, and conspicuous with resplendent axes," 

 Mr. Dodd adds that the band was paid, but that, thanks 

 to a passion for public masquerade, the asses pranced 

 for the love of it, and cost nothing but their luncheon. 



Our torch-light campaigners resemble Mr. Dodd's as- 

 sistants in being gratuitous, but whether they are equally 

 entitled to rank as asses depends partly on the state of the 

 spectator's liver, and partly on whether they are justified 

 in the impression that torch-light parades stir up political 

 enthusiasm, influence the doubtful voters, and help to 

 keep wavering allies in the field. 



Men banded together are much more subject to a com- 



mon impulse than individuals taken separately, and 

 there is some practical political sense in getting the party- 

 men together, and rubbing them up against one another 

 in the promotion of a common end. The contagion of 

 endeavor reaches the listless ones, their interest is stirred, 

 and they not only take hold themselves but go out and 

 bring other waverers in. There is no easier way of 

 binding a man to a cause or a party than to get him to do 

 a little work for it. .-Ml men cannot be orators, or editors, 

 or ward bosses, or even patient listeners, but any man 

 with arms and legs can carry a kerosene torch around the 

 streets, and come reasonably near keeping step with a 

 band. The theory is that the fidelity of the voter who 

 undertakes such simple political labor is clinched, and 

 that his example has an effect besides on the unorganized 

 multitude. Of course the shinier his helmet is, and the 

 more elaborate his costume, the farther his example will 

 reach; so that very considerable sums of money are spent 

 every four years in tricking him out and paying the musi- 

 cians whom he follows. It is an odd use of money, and a 

 curious form of political energy, but the torch-light 

 procession habit seems to be firmly fixed on both parties 

 just now, and they show no signs of shaking it off'. Every 

 four years a good many former enthusiasts attain to the 

 conclusion that it is asinine to prance, but their derelic- 

 tion is more than made up by new voters whose dis- 

 crimination is less sophisticated, and whose passion for 

 masquerade has not yet been appeased. And so the 

 spectacular end of politics is regularly attended to, and 

 the trade in "equipments" continues brisk. 



12 



BULLETIN 24 1 : CONTRIBUTIONS FROM THE MUSEUM OF HISTORY AND TECHNOLOGY 



