Democratic Sentinel, Volume 10, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 September 1886 — BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER. [ARTICLE]

BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER.

An Extraordinary Race for Governor in Progress in Tennessee. Playing the Fiddle Together After Public Speaking —"An Insult to One an Insult to Both." [Chattanooga special.] The campaign in Tennessee this fall is most remarkable. Nothing like it was ever seen before in the polities of any country. Two brothers, Robert and Alfred Taylor, are rival candidates for the Governorship. They are making the canvass together. “Bob,” as he is universally called, is the candidate of the Democracy, and Alf is the standard-bearer of the Republicans. Usually a political contest in Tennessee is a series of personal invective long drawn out, and often the issues of the campaign are lost sight of. The campaign this fall, however, has all the points of a very fine comedy. If it could be reproduced on the stage with one-quarter of the realism of th e original contest, it would be bound to have a long run. The brothers are on the best of terms, and are constantly chaffing and joking each other, to the amusement of the crowds that follow them wherever they go. They belong to one of the best families in Tennessee, and both have a natural gift of oratory. Alf Taylor has been playing a sly game on his brother. He has left two or three political meetings early on account of hie weak voice and furnished dance music for parties. Both of the brothers are fair musicians and know how to handle a violin. Bob got onto his brother’s dodge very soon, however, and retaliated by visiting half of the houses along their route, kissing the babies and promising them all birthday presents when they grew up. These side issues, so to speak, began to tell on the constitutions of the brothers, and a compromise has been arrang d. Bob is to stop kissing the babies unless Alf is present and can come in for his share of the glory, and also agrees not to speak quite so loud or long until his voice gets into better condition. In addition Bob says he will not mention Cleveland's civil-service policy again during the campaign. For these concessions Alt' has agreed to stop fiddling except in duets with his brother. But as the violin has been introduced into the canvass they find that they cannot put it out. Everywhere they go they are compelled to take their violins with them and play a shake-down after the regular meeting of the night is over. The brothers' duet played at the Read House here last evening was a very amusing sight. The parlors were crowded, and the two brothers sat close together, surrounded by their adherents. “Dixie,” “Star-Spangled Banner,” “Old Kentucky Home,” and selections from the “ Mikado” were rendered in fine style. It was impossible, amid the shouts of laughter and applause, to say which was the better man with the bow.

At Cleveland, Tenn., last week, the brothers addressed the largest meeting of the campaign. This is a Republican stronghold, and Alf was in high feather. But Bob's followers made up in shouting what they lacked in numbers. While waiting to board the train at Athens for Cleveland a crowd gathered around the station. The sun was hot, and the brothers sought the shade of a neighboring tiee. Here the crowd followed them, and the jokes flew pretty thick. “Alf,” said Bob, “would be lost if it was not for his little tariff and Blair bill.” “You don’t want to come out too strong about our Mexican diplomacy,” retorted Alf. “You must be referring* to Mr. Blaine’s guano contracts,” said Bob, good-naturedly. “But what are you going to do with the public domain, Bob?” asked Alf, winking slyly to the crowd. “Sell it and educate those 400,000 ignorant Tennessee children you are always talking about.” At this moment a hardy mountaineer approached on the scene. He approached Alf and said: “I want a place under the next Governor.” But before he could reply Bob spoke up: “Here he is; what can Ido for you?” The crowd laughed, but Alf got in a neat rejoinder by saying: “‘A public office is a public trust.’ I cannot promise patronage for votes.” Some one rang a ches:nut bell, and a minute later the brothel s were boarding the train arm in arm, and bowing their acknowledgments to the cheering crowd.

The gathering at Cleveland is typical of what has met the brothers all over the State. “Remember,” said Squire Gant, in introducing “our Alf” to the public, “that an insult to one of these gentlemen is an insult to the other,” and this represents the policy of the campaign. There are no side issues in Tennessee this fall. The question is simply between Democracy and Republicanism, and both sides feel that the result w.ll be a true test of each party’s strength. At Athens another feature was introduced into this canvass which promises to become a regular card. Some one alluded to it as the War of the Roses, and the expression was promptly caught up by the crowd. It furnished the proper campaign insignia. At once the red rose became the badge of the Republicans and the wLi'e rose the emblem of Democracy. It spiead like wild fire, and within forty-eight hours these historic decorations were worn in rosettes from one end of the Mate to the other. The ladies, too. are flying the colors of their choice. So it is now a double campaign, roses and fiddles, and all canopied over by the best of good-fel-lowship and fraternal rivalry. An incident last night, while the brothers were at Bridgeport, illustrates the spirit of he canvass from the matron’s standpoint. They performed, as usual, and then went aim in arm to the same bed. As they came down to breakfast the hotel proprietor’s wife, a smiling old lady of 60, approached them with a bunch of the rival roses in ach hand and said: “Col. Bob and Col. Alf, I’m not a pohti. ian, and I don’t know anything about politics, but I want you io accept these flowers because it makes my mothc r heart glad to see two brothers making a canvass against each other and yet r ating each other as loving as you two do. Let me sej you slake hands before you go.” They took ihe flowers, shook as desired, and laughingly took th - train for Tullahoma, where they speak to-night.