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McGovern was also swayed by strong supporters among Democratic leaders, like Frances ("Sissy") Farenthold of Texas and Matthew Troy Jr. of New York, who said loudly that they could not vote for the ticket if Eagleton stayed on it. Few took the issue as lightly as Julian Bond of Georgia: "At least we know ours had treatment. What about theirs?" Chicago Mayor Richard Daley was compassionate. "All of us are sick sometimes," he said. "Many people become seriously ill, but they come back and carry on their activities very successfully and capably." The underlying, widespread worry was whether Eagleton would be equal to the strain if he should succeed to the presidency. Portland Lawyer Robert Duncan, a Democrat active in Oregon politics, spoke for many: "I think what will worry people is this stress problem. They will all see him standing eyeball to eyeball with Russia—and then going out and getting shock treatment."
There was some feeling that such criticism was unfair, that mental illness should be regarded like any other illness and not held against a man once he is cured. The matter raised profound questions about what America expects of its public men—and of itself—and how it defines strength or weakness.
A secret poll of Democratic county leaders in Wisconsin, a strong McGovern state that is in many ways an American microcosm, found 38% of those interviewed believed Eagleton to be so serious a drag on the ticket that he should go. Yet McGovern may have somewhat misjudged the voters' response to the Eagleton revelations. In a poll carried out for TIME last week by Crossley Surveys Inc., 76.7% of those interviewed said that Eagleton's medical record would not affect their vote (see box). A significant number said they were ready to switch from supporting McGovern or being neutral to backing Nixon. Before McGovern had seen any polls on public reaction to the Eagleton matter, he told TIME'S Dean Fischer: "If we took a poll and 99% of the people polled thought he should stay on the ticket, that other 1% could still be crucial."
The Republicans were naturally delighted, although fellow Senators expressed sympathy for Eagleton and President Nixon instructed Republicans to say nothing political in public about the matter. Republicans hardly needed to; the Democrats and the editorial writers were doing it for them.
The search for alternatives began. Senator Edward Kennedy, encountered after a Washington speech last week, was told: "You're going to be under pressure again, if you aren't already, to do something to rescue the party." Kennedy made a face: no way. By some reports, McGovern was mulling a new list of four men—each, like Eagleton, a Roman Catholic—one of whom might be tapped for the vice presidency instead:
PATRICK LUCEY, 54, Governor of Wisconsin, a Kennedy loyalist who helped J.F.K. carry the state's important primary in 1960. His wife Jean may be a liability; she is outspoken, though not in Martha Mitchell's league, and sometimes squabbles with her husband in public; police were once called to the Governor's mansion when, after an evening of one too many, he locked her out of the bedroom.