The Southern Orator Who Won Over Seattle
A fiery, nostalgic speech by James Hamilton—the self-proclaimed 'original' permanent chairman of the Democratic state convention—leaves a Portland journalist speechless.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
The E. Koeborg correspondent for the Portland West was bowled over by the flashing oratory of the one and only original James Hamilton, permanent chairman of the Democratic state convention. He is described as a daring, flashy, top-in-the-loads orator, a graceful speaker, a young man of the late Confederacy, with a decided Southern accent, effusive, whose history is part tragic and part flamboyant. If we may credit this enthusiastic correspondent, the delegates yelled and echoed, and yelled, and kept yelling as the young orator worked himself red in the face, as the Democratic demonstration from his high, retreating forehead and swept his straight, brown hair, which stood up like a tan mane, as he made the supreme effort of his life. Seattle has reason to feel proud that the genius of her talented favorite is appreciated and heralded abroad.
“The delegates yelled and echoed, and yelled, and kept yelling as the young orator worked himself red in the face.”
In 1889, political rallies were the primary form of civic entertainment and mass communication in Seattle, turning city events into grand stage performances. Today, while digital media has replaced the 'tan mane' of the live orator, the obsession with political personality and the performative nature of local conventions remains a constant in Seattle's civic DNA.
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