ceedings. This statement was immediately confirmed by Mr. Bonaparte himself. The person who preserved silence was Elihu Root, who had been present at the meeting. A word from him would have entirely cleared Mr. Roosevelt in every quarter; but Mr. Root in 1912 was no longer serving Mr. Roosevelt or his policies, he was serving his opponents with all his immense skill; and so this word was left unspoken.
After failing of nomination by the Republicans, in 1912, Mr. Roosevelt "bolted"—a long predestined certainty, hoped for earlier by some people. A month later, at an extraordinary and exalted convention, whose deep feelings rendered even the newspaper men unable to scoff for several days, he organized the Progressive Party and became its candidate. A campaign followed, wonderful and devoted. Its chief incident was near its close, when Mr. Roosevelt was shot in the street at Milwaukee on his way to address a meeting. His instant words to the agitated crowd were not to hurt the assassin. "Don't hurt the man. Don't let any one hurt him."[1] He addressed the meeting and then spent some ten days in a hospital. A thick fold of notes in his breast pocket prevented a fatal wound and his excellent health and life-long moderation of habit speeded his recovery.
He was defeated, the Democratic candidate
- ↑ Another account says: "Don't hurt him, bring him to me."
