James G. Blaine, Sr. readied himself for the political battle of his already contentious career. The secretary of state would challenge Benjamin Harrison — the sitting president and a member of Blaine’s own party — for the 1892 Republican nomination. James was a seasoned campaigner and a gloves-off political brawler; he had vied for the presidency three times in the previous two decades. But he was not prepared for his true opponent that election year: an aspiring actress named Mary Nevins Blaine.
When the two had first met in 1886, Mary was not a threat to James’ political ambitions, merely a nuisance: At the age of 19, after an 18-day courtship, she had eloped with James’ 17-year-old son, Jamie, a boy he described as the “the most helpless, least responsible” of his children. The union, which both families publicly objected to at first, had been a source of much tittle-tattle as James toured the country that fall rallying support for Republican candidates. But soon, the public embraced the handsome young couple, even if James’ wife, Harriet, never had.
The impulsive marriage could, perhaps, be forgiven, but Mary’s decision to seek a divorce five years later — with a presidential election looming — could not be. That was a scandal that could torpedo a presidential campaign. James’ political brand was predicated on an unassailable private life. Faced with the scandal, he considered his options and chose silence. The family would not feed the media frenzy.
But James had underestimated Mary as a foe; the young woman knew how to use the newspapers to her advantage as well as any political pro. When he finally recognized her skills, he launched his own PR offensive in response. Their front-page fight reveals a lesson that is even more pertinent in the social media era than it was at the time: Once a story has been aired publicly, there is no way to know who will seize control of it. And the winner is often the one you least expect.