“Shortly after the senator came to the senate I went to him and asked his permission to tell him about the seamen. He had no time then, but told me to come to his hotel. Upon my arrival at the appointed time I told him it would take me at least twenty minutes to give him some idea of what I had to say. He told me to go ahead. I did and I was with him for about an hour and a half. In a quiet easy way he encouraged me to talk, and I told him about the seaman’s daily life on the vessel, but more so on the shore. At sea, the terrible quarters, the ceaselesstoil, the poor food, the general treatment and the longing to get away from the life which was degraded by involuntary servitude and a feeling of helplessness. On shore, the power of the Crimp to dictate our wages and take away what we were to earn in the form of advance or ‘allotment to the original creditor,’ as the thing was called; the power to compel us to go to sea in any vessel and with any kind of men—destitute poor devils who set our wages when we were hired and whose work we had to do at sea because they could not. With it all a feeling that we were forgotten by God and held in bitter contempt by men on shore. When I stopped he would ask a question and set me going again, and then he said—‘I shall see whether we can not help you.’“And he certainly did. I tried not to go to him too often; but it was often and he was always kind and encouraging. I always left him with more hope in my heart, and sometimes I needed it sorely. If God ever placed upon the shoulders of men a part of the burdens of others the senator was surely one of those men. My burden was always lighter and my heart more free when I left him.“There never was anything that he could personally do to help getting the Seaman’s bill through that he did not do. He helped to get the bill considered. He helped to get it passed. He saved it when the London Convention and the treaty adopted there was about to strangle it for good. If that treaty had been adopted the Seamen’s bill could never have been passed. That treaty was designed to keep the Americans from the sea, and if the United Statesnow has the men needed or is able to get them, not only the seamen, but this nation owes the thanks therefor to Senator Kern.”
“Shortly after the senator came to the senate I went to him and asked his permission to tell him about the seamen. He had no time then, but told me to come to his hotel. Upon my arrival at the appointed time I told him it would take me at least twenty minutes to give him some idea of what I had to say. He told me to go ahead. I did and I was with him for about an hour and a half. In a quiet easy way he encouraged me to talk, and I told him about the seaman’s daily life on the vessel, but more so on the shore. At sea, the terrible quarters, the ceaselesstoil, the poor food, the general treatment and the longing to get away from the life which was degraded by involuntary servitude and a feeling of helplessness. On shore, the power of the Crimp to dictate our wages and take away what we were to earn in the form of advance or ‘allotment to the original creditor,’ as the thing was called; the power to compel us to go to sea in any vessel and with any kind of men—destitute poor devils who set our wages when we were hired and whose work we had to do at sea because they could not. With it all a feeling that we were forgotten by God and held in bitter contempt by men on shore. When I stopped he would ask a question and set me going again, and then he said—‘I shall see whether we can not help you.’
“And he certainly did. I tried not to go to him too often; but it was often and he was always kind and encouraging. I always left him with more hope in my heart, and sometimes I needed it sorely. If God ever placed upon the shoulders of men a part of the burdens of others the senator was surely one of those men. My burden was always lighter and my heart more free when I left him.
“There never was anything that he could personally do to help getting the Seaman’s bill through that he did not do. He helped to get the bill considered. He helped to get it passed. He saved it when the London Convention and the treaty adopted there was about to strangle it for good. If that treaty had been adopted the Seamen’s bill could never have been passed. That treaty was designed to keep the Americans from the sea, and if the United Statesnow has the men needed or is able to get them, not only the seamen, but this nation owes the thanks therefor to Senator Kern.”
After the bill had passed both branches of the congress and went to the president for his signature the most remarkable efforts were made to persuade President Wilson to veto it. These efforts were made by the most powerful influences that think in terms of money rather than in terms of humanity. The National Chamber of Commerce took an active part in condemnation of the act. Delegations called at the White House to assure the president that the law would destroy American commerce.
It was at this juncture that Senator Kern rendered his last great service to the seamen. At the head of seven or eight senators he called at the White House to urge the president to sign the bill. It was signed on March 4th.
The Seamen’s law, which is the Magna Charta of seamen’s rights, would sooner or later have been enacted because ordinary humanity demanded it, but the interest of Senator Kern in its passage unquestionably hastened the breaking of the chains of the slaves of the sea. No one was in the position to proportion the credit that Furseth was and it is enough for the historian to know that the three men who received in largest measure the gratitude of the old Norseman were President Wilson, Robert M. Lafollette and John W. Kern. One year after the law had gone into effect, and two months after Senator Kern’s defeat for re-election to the senate, the man whose “coming ashore” was the “greatest event of the nineteenth century” to the seamen of the world wrote:
“Washington, D. C., Dec. 31, 1916.“Hon. John W. Kern, U. S. Senate:“My Dear Senator—The seamen have lived through one year in freedom, in hope, and in gratitude to you. On their behalf and for myself I wish you a blessed New Year and all the happiness that can come to those who feel the pain of others. May God in his mercy to us and to all who toil preserve you in health and strength to fight on for man’s freedom.“Faithfully and respectfully yours,“Andrew Furseth.”
“Washington, D. C., Dec. 31, 1916.
“Hon. John W. Kern, U. S. Senate:
“My Dear Senator—The seamen have lived through one year in freedom, in hope, and in gratitude to you. On their behalf and for myself I wish you a blessed New Year and all the happiness that can come to those who feel the pain of others. May God in his mercy to us and to all who toil preserve you in health and strength to fight on for man’s freedom.
“Faithfully and respectfully yours,
“Andrew Furseth.”
In the summer of 1916 a bill bearing the names of Senator Kern and Representative McGillicudy of Maine and affecting the interests of 400,000 people was enacted into law. The passage of this bill, the Kern-McGillicudy Workman’s Compensation bill, was many years over due.
“It has been disgraceful,” he said in the senate, “that the great government of the United States has lagged behind every nation in the world, civilizedand half-civilized, except Turkey, in the care it has given to the people who are employed by it.”
About this time he was making a futile effort to secure adequate compensation for an Indianian who had been hopelessly crippled by an accident in Panama while in the government service, and the difficulties he encountered outraged his sense of decency and justice.
When the bill reached the amendment stage, it was due to the vigilance of Senator Kern that it was not emasculated by amendments, offered in good faith, no doubt, but utterly destructive. Senator Smith of Georgia insisted upon writing a contributory negligence clause into the bill. This was earnestly contested by Senator Kern on the ground that while there might be some justification for such a clause in an employers’ liability law, it would defeat the purpose of a government workman’s compensation act, and would deprive the government employee of the sense of absolute security to which he was entitled.
And he just as vigorously opposed the proposal of Senator Cummins to have the law administered by a bureau instead of by a special commission.
During his service in the senate he never ceased to marvel at the light manner in which hundreds of thousands of dollars were appropriated for elaborate postoffice buildings where a very simple and inexpensive one would do, and the pitiful parsimonywith which some statesmen were inclined to deal with expenses incidental to the legal protection of the lives and interests of the workingmen.
The measure was finally passed in August, 1916, in practically the form in which it was presented, carrying with it an inestimable boon to 400,000 men and women who were doing the civil work of the nation.
During the same summer Senator Kern made his heaviest contribution to humanity in the part he played in forcing the consideration and passage of the child labor law. This was a subject that had been near his heart for many years, and we have seen that almost a quarter of a century before while a member of the state senate he had fought to place a child labor law upon the statutes of the state. For many years efforts were made from time to time to pass a child labor law, but without results. The public opinion of the republic had long been crystallized against the exploitation of childhood, and social workers had accumulated the most damning evidence against the system, but the statesmen seemed impervious to the pity of it, and cynically found excuses for non-activity. But a few years before Senator Kern had listened to the witnesses called by the House committee investigating the strike in the millsof Lawrence, Massachusetts, and had been sickened by the sight of pale, aenemic, underfed, overworked children who were actually forced to pay for the cold water that they drank while at work in the mills. He hated the exploitation of childhood with a holy hate, and one of his ambitions was to be able to strike a blow at the system while in the senate.
One day in the summer of 1916, at a time when senators and congressmen were anxious to get back to their constituents in preparation for the campaign, and with the program already crowded, the congress and the country were electrified by the action of President Wilson in demanding action upon the child labor bill then pending in the senate. Without warning he appeared at the capitol one afternoon and repaired to the president’s room, where he had grown accustomed to hold important conferences on legislation, contrary to the custom of his predecessor, and summoned Senator Kern. The senator was first informed of the president’s presence at the capitol by a page who had been hailed by the executive and asked if he would inform Senator Kern that he was wanted in the little room, with its Brumidi decorations, beyond the Marble Room. There was a brief conference, after which other senators were summoned, and the word flashed over the country that the president had created another stumbling blockto adjournment by insisting upon the passage of the child labor law. From that time on Kern exerted himself to the utmost in pressing for action.
But behind that incident there was another which throws more light on the importance of the part played by Senator Kern in forcing a child labor law upon the books. Some time before the Democratic senators had held a caucus to determine upon the legislative program for the remainder of the session, and Kern had made an earnest plea for the consideration of the child labor bill. He had met with a stubborn opposition, for there were states represented in that caucus in which the factories were operated to a large degree by child labor. Indeed it had come to be a favorite sneer of the socialists that the Democratic party could never be counted upon to rid the nation of that evil because of the opposition of the industrial interests of certain southern states. In the caucus Senator Kern not only urged this as a political reason for action, and made a personal appeal on the ground that failure to act would probably lose Indiana to the Democracy in the campaign of the fall and defeat him for re-election. But the opponents of such legislation were adamant and the caucus adjourned with no provision for child labor legislation and with the decision to not take up the immigration bill until in December.
Soon after this President Wilson made his call atthe capitol; and a little later a few Democratic senators, regardless of the caucus action, voted to call the immigration bill before the senate, and the protest of Senator Kern, together with the excoriation of the recalcitrant senators by Senator Stone, impelled the men who disregarded the caucus action to defend themselves. In the course of Senator Vardaman’s defense he dropped the curtain on the proceedings of the caucus, and incidentally threw light on the prominence of the part played by Senator Kern in forcing labor legislation upon the statutes.
“I remember distinctly,” he said, “that the senior senator from Indiana stated to the caucus that a failure to pass the child labor bill would militate very much against the Democratic party in Indiana and would probably defeat him for re-election. But the caucus adjourned with a program agreed upon which left out the consideration at this session of the child labor and immigration bills. The next morning I heard that the distinguished senator from Indiana—the Democratic leader, mind you—was very much dissatisfied with the caucus action and was busily engaging himself trying to create sentiment in favor of rescinding the action of the caucus of the evening before. It was also whispered that the president would be invited to take a hand in order to save the senator from Indiana from the evil effects of non-action upon the child labor bill. The correctness of these rumors was soon verified. In due time the president of the United States appeared at the capitol and called certain senators into consultation. But as to what he said—or ordered—I am not at liberty to speak, since I was not one of the senators consulted.”
We can do no better than permit the Mississippi senator to serve us as reporter of Senator Kern’s position in the caucus, and his activities after the caucus to bring about such a reconsideration as to include in the program for the session the consideration of the child labor bill. And the Mississippian’s interpretation of the action of the president, it may be added, was shared by others who were chagrined at his interference in the program. However that may be, it may be said that Senator Kern and the president were in whole-hearted accord on the child labor bill and that their joint work was largely responsible for the passage of the bill.
That the country generally at the time looked upon Kern as the leader in the fight for the child labor bill was soon evident in the disposition of both the friends and enemies of the proposed legislation to attempt to influence him through propaganda. While it had always been his policy to submit petitions and protests to the senate, regardless of his individual opinion on the matter involved, on the broad ground that the people were entitled to theright of petition, so profound was his hate of child exploitation and so intense his contempt for those who tried to prevent it, that he refused to burden the Record with the protests. In only one instance did he give any attention to the letters of the defenders of the exploiters of childhood. A minister in a southern community had written him a sanctimoniously worded letter on the beauties of child slavery, on the philanthropy of the mill owners in preventing the starvation of families by permitting children scarcely in their teens to work for a pittance in the mills, and this aroused his wrath because it came from a minister of the Gospel. For ministerial defenders of inhumanity he had no words with which to measure his contempt. In this instance he did attempt to give expression to his personal contempt for the minister in a letter of withering sarcasm, and this letter he gave to the press. Among the men of importance who wired him in the interest of the bill were Charles W. Eliot, the famous educator, Rabbi Stephen S. Wise and the Rev. Lyman Abbott of The Outlook, and he put their pleas in the Record. Of especial value, from his point of view, as supporting the position he had taken in the caucus when he had been outvoted by his party colleagues, was the telegram of President Eliot:
“I venture to express the opinion, in view of the coming presidential election, it would be very unwiseto postpone the passage of the child labor bill until December next. The Democratic party needs the support next November of the numerous Republicans and progressives who are interested in child labor legislation. The party has nothing to lose by passing the bill and possibly much to gain.”
“I venture to express the opinion, in view of the coming presidential election, it would be very unwiseto postpone the passage of the child labor bill until December next. The Democratic party needs the support next November of the numerous Republicans and progressives who are interested in child labor legislation. The party has nothing to lose by passing the bill and possibly much to gain.”
This view Kern persistently pressed upon such Democratic senators as held back, and the bill was finally taken up and passed with so little opposition on the floor as to be a marvel to those who had striven for a decade to interest the congress in such legislation. Here, as in many other cases, the work of Senator Kern was effective and important, but not done in the limelight, and the general public in rejoicing over the enactment of the law manifested no special appreciation of the services of Kern. This did not concern him in the least. It was enough for him to know that the blow at child slavery had been struck. In his speeches in the campaign of 1916 he dwelt to some extent upon the passage of the child labor bill, but never once did he give any indication that his part in its passage was greater than that of the senator who merely voted for the bill.
Nevertheless his was an important and a leading part.
NO single administration since the days of Jefferson has ever approached the record of the first administration of Woodrow Wilson in constructive achievement, either in the quantity or quality of it. One month after assuming office the congress was called in extraordinary session, and from April 7th, 1913, until October 24th, 1914, it was kept continuously at the grind, engaged all the while with administrative and party measures of the first magnitude. During the four years that Senator Kern had the grave responsibility of piloting these measures through the senate, the congress was in session 1,022 days, which means that out of four years there were only eleven months that it was not engaged with a legislative program of vital importance. During the first two years the responsibility upon the senate leader was especially heavy because of the meager Democratic majority and the ever-present possibility that some few Democrats might refuse to work in harness and thus precipitate confusion, embarrassment and defeat. The program throughout was uncompromisingly progressive, and in accord with party sentiment, but there were not a few Democratic senators of reactionary or ultra-conservative tendencies who were not enthusiastic over the program, and it was necessary to cultivate by conciliation the few Republicans of progressive leanings. When after four months the Underwood tariff law was passed,The Boston Herald, commenting on the victory, called attention to the fact that a president usually had his wishes reasonably met in the house, but disregarded by the senate, said that “Mr. Wilson with a small majority in the senate has been able to hold it in line.” And yet there were animated discussions and numerous disagreements among the majority senators that had to be ironed out in caucuses; one Democratic senator bolted the caucus and denounced it as being “machine-run” on the senate floor; and during the intolerable sultry days of the mid-summer it was with the greatest difficulty that all the Democrats were kept in Washington and within call in the event of a Republican “surprise.” Even at its best the national capital is not a summer resort. The heat is intensified by the humidity, and the town swelters and steams. The senate chamber, with no outside ventilation, the light streaming gloomily through the glass above, becomes deadening and depressing, and even the great revolving fans fail to make it comfortable. As the tariff fight dragged on into July and August and the call of the seashore and the mountains became insistent, it was with difficulty that the Democratic majority could be maintained in Washington. And even when they remained in Washington it was almost impossible to keep a quorum at the capitol. Walter Johnson was pitching at the ball park, the racing season was on in Maryland, the refreshing shadows of Rock Creek park were an attraction, and after responding to the morning roll call the senators drifted from the chamber and away from the hill, and for days at a time the senate, seen from the gallery, seemed deserted. But some one had to know where to reach them should the enemy plan a surprise attack; some one had to remain in the chamber throughout the day on guard—and that “some one” was Kern. The man who for years had so weakened in mid-summer as to make it necessary for him to seek the breezes of Michigan, was forced to shut himself within the stuffy chamber in one of the most enervating summer cities in the country. This eternal watchfulness and anxiety told upon him, but he was sustained by his joy in seeing the things he had so long sought being realized. At times when the regular Democratic attendance had dwindled to a corporal’s guard his impatience manifested itself in caucus, where on one occasion he supplemented his appeal with sarcastic protests, and a “party whip” was selected to assist him. The “whip” sent out an eloquent letter of appeal, apologizing in advance for the unpleasant necessity of insisting upon a regular attendance, andalmost immediately disappeared. On his return Kern accosted him effusively in the cloak room:
“I am delighted to find you have recovered,” he said. “Your appearance is good and I hope you are now feeling better.”
The flabbergasted statesman, taken by surprise, stammered:
“But, Senator, I have not been ill.”
“Not ill?” said Kern. “Well, I had not seen you around for several days and supposed, of course, that you were ill.”
Another senator who had been enjoying the shades of the verandas and wooded spaces of a summer resort was wired by Kern to return to Washington as he was needed. His secretary called upon the Indianian the next day to explain that his chief’s return had been delayed by his inability to get a seat in the chair car. Taking from his vest pocket a number of clippings fromThe Washington Post, Kern dryly observed that the senator had been playing a good game of golf, had attended a number of dances, and given a dinner.
Still another statesman, a popular figure among Democrats because of his impetuous partisan devotion upon the stump, remained in Washington at his home without so much as reporting for the morning roll call, and repeated expostulations failed to persuade him to resume his duties, until he was threatened with a denunciation and caucus action.
When at length the tariff bill was passed, the prevalent sentiment was for adjournment, but the president insisted upon the immediate consideration of the proposed Federal Reserve law. The country applauded, but there were gutteral grumblings in the cloak rooms.
Almost immediately opposition to many features of the administration’s measure asserted itself among Democratic senators; the demand was made for prolonged hearings; Senator Lewis assuredThe Chicago Inter Oceanthat there would be no currency legislation that session; the committee on Banking and Currency found itself deadlocked and a caucus of Democratic senators was called to break it; until finally things were so whipped into shape that a Democratic conference was able to agree after the Thanksgiving holidays that there should be no Christmas recess unless the currency bill had passed by December 24th.
The session merged into the next session without adjournment, and more administration measures calculated, as the president contended, “to destroy private control and set business free” were pressed for immediate consideration. The Trade Commission bill, and then the new trust measures, prolific of infinite contention among Democrats followed. And from time to time the faint shadow of the Mexican situation fell upon the gloomy chamber, and then the great cloud from across the sea, when the German army crossed the Belgium border. But the grind went on.
The temper of the Democrats was not sweetened nor their anxiety diminished by the approach of the fall elections of 1914. The special interest and opposition papers were bitterly assailing the administration measures, business had been temporarily disarranged by uncertainty and in some instances with sinister intent, and the law makers faced the possibility of submitting their political fate to their constituents without an opportunity to mend their fences. An effort was made to postpone action on the trust bills lest the controversy over whether trade unions should be included among the trusts in the meaning of the law should have a disastrous effect. There were some Democratic senators who stoutly insisted that they should, and in addition to his routine work as leader, Kern threw himself passionately into this controversy, indignant that any one should place in the same class the organization of business to arbitrarily fix prices and oppress the public, and the organization of workingmen for the purpose of compelling a living wage and living conditions.
At length, having been in continuous session for 567 days, and written into law the greatest amount of progressive constructive legislation ever written in so short a time in the history of the country, the congress adjourned less than two weeks before the elections. Throughout this period Kern had played a vitally important part, but not a spectacular one. When the senate was not in session he was busily engaged with the Steering committee in efforts to reconcile differences, to conciliate the disgruntled, and owing to the meager majority always in danger of being overthrown, frequent caucuses were called at night, and, when time was pressing, on Sunday mornings. His work was not the sort that strikes the imagination, but it was the kind that counts, and with a less astute, patient, conciliatory and watchful leader the story of the achievements of the Wilson administration during the first two years might never have been written as it was. So completely did he dedicate his time and energy to his work that weeks went by when he never entered his offices in Senate building, and senatorial duties more important than those of routine were performed by his assistants.
When the first congress of the Wilson regime passed into history James Davenport Whepley, writing of the president inThe Fortnightly Review(London), said that he had “formed a legislative program which would have staggered a more experienced leader” and predicted that his power over his party in the congress would decline. As a matter of fact there was an undercurrent of rebellion, and it was not always that the comments of statesmen in the cloak room harmonized with their observations on the platform.
In the short session beginning in December, 1914, and ending March 4, 1915, this spirit of rebellion burst into flame but soon smouldered to ashes. The occasion was the president’s Ship Purchase bill, which was bitterly assailed by the special interest press and opposed by the Republicans with more spirit and unanimity than they had displayed before. Democratic opposition of a virulent nature developed. The caucus called by Kern voted to support the bill, but the opposition persisted. The filibuster that resulted has never been equaled since the Force bill days. Men like Senators Root and Lodge remained on duty like soldiers day and night. The forces behind the idea of a subsidy for private interests were never so alert. Senator Penrose, who had been so “ill” in Philadelphia that he could not venture to Washington to appear before the committee on Privileges and Elections which was considering an investigation of charges that a million dollars had been spent to assure his election, reached Washington over night and appeared in the senate chamber a perfect picture of robust health. Kern, whoknew that he was in Washington, smoked him out of his retirement through a telegram suggesting that the Philadelphian send a physician’s statement to the effect that he was too ill to appear before the committee on Privileges and Elections. The debate was a mockery—such as those of filibusters always are; with men presumably of presidential caliber consuming hours of the public’s time reading pages from books having no relation to the bill under consideration. Plans were perfected to hold the senate in session day and night until a vote could be had, and Kern had comforts sent to his committee room on the gallery floor with the intention of getting a few winks of sleep from time to time. Then came the revolt. Seven Democratic senators bolted the caucus action and voted with the Republicans to refer the bill back to the committee. It had all been carefully planned, and some of these Democratic senators during the afternoon just before the vote had been observed making numerous trips to the Republican cloak room. It was the only instance during the four years of Kern’s leadership that he was unable to hold his party together behind an administration measure.
When the congress again convened after the summer adjournment of 1915 a better spirit of co-operation had been restored. After the passage of the Rural Credits bill, which is one of the great piecesof constructive legislation to the credit of the party, the greater part of the time was given over to the so-called “preparedness legislation” and the passage of measures recommended by the president to meet the international crisis which was growing more acute because of the short-sighted policy of Berlin. Although not enthusiastic over the preparedness program, and ardently anxious to prevent war, Kern accepted the leadership of his chief and supported him in all his measures. No member of the senate was more intimately identified with the president’s plan to prevent the threatened railroad strike in the late summer of 1916, as we shall see later on.
Never for a single moment in four years was a resting place in sight. President Wilson’s program “to destroy private control and set business free” was not concluded with the passage of the four or five great measures that caught the superficial eye, but it reached in its ramifications into all the byways of national life. Time and again when the senate was struggling under a deluge of important administrative measures, with the end far distant, and the members, work-weary and anxious to get back home, Senator Kern was appealed to by the president to add as many as half a dozen bills to the calendar for disposal during the session. These were always important and essential to the president’s purpose of destroying private control and setting business free, but they were not always appreciated at the time by the press or general public at their true value. While always in harmony with the spirit of the pledge of the party they frequently went beyond the specific promises and thus made it possible for Democratic senators sweltering in the heat to question the necessity of their enactment as a party duty. None of these but delighted Kern. And thus he was constantly engaged in feeling out the sentiment of his party colleagues, constantly consulting with the leaders, and reporting to the White House. Not infrequently the prevalent sentiment was in favor of postponement, but on the gentle, tactful but firm insistence of the president he would renew his efforts, usually ending in conferences of the Steering committee and party caucuses and the decision to act. While the machinery in the senate appeared to the casual observer to almost invariably be moving smoothly, there were many tempests in the teapot, occasionally a disposition to revolt. The opposition was always ready with its taunts that the Democrats of the senate had abdicated their senatorial prerogatives to the White House, and some wise observers for the press were fluent with their articles charging degeneracy to the senate and recalling the “good old days” when senators were “strong enough” to set aside presidentialprograms, but this did not annoy Kern in the least. He was content that some one had been found in high station with enough strength and prescience to point the way to the realization of the things he had fought for for many years, and to lead. But this situation kept him busy at his work of conciliation and ironing out differences. It was here that the personality, the character of Kern counted. He was popular with his colleagues on the Democratic side of the chamber, and no one doubted the sincerity of the man who without pretense had grown gray working for the day that had finally dawned, and no one questioned the soundness of his political judgment. His personal appeals for “harness work” for the sake, not only of the immediate principle involved, but of the party’s future reputation as a constructive force, had effect.
And it was here that his real strength as a leader impressed the superficial as a weakness. He never permitted temporary disagreements over single issues to deprive him of the friendship and confidence of the recalcitrant, or to lead him to hasty words of criticism or denunciation that would return to plague him in the next battle. When the seven senators deserted and bolted the caucus on the Ship Purchase bill he was saddened by the possibilities of serious future disagreements, but he was silent. Other Democratic senators took it upon themselves to bitterlydenounce the “bolters” on the floor of the senate, and some thought this presumption an act of leadership of which Kern was incapable. They were right. It did not appeal to him as wise leadership to drive these men into chronic opposition to administration measures.
Kern was too tactful to have broken off relations with all his fellow Democrats who might at times wander from “the reservation.” He was not a bull in the china shop type of leader—fortunately for the Wilson administration and the party.
There were some, too, who could not understand how a leader could really lead and not occupy much of the senate’s time with speeches. During the four years that he was leader he seldom spoke. The program was crowded. It was of vital importance that this program should be written into law. This was particularly important during the first two years, for had the elections of 1914 resulted in a Democratic defeat in the House, the administration would have found itself at the end of its rope. It was of vital importance that the principal reform measures should be enacted. And it was clearly the policy of the opposition to curtail this program as much as possible through the prolongation of discussion. After all differences had been adjusted on the Democratic side, noses counted, and a majority found secure, it was Kern’s idea that the Democrats shouldlet the Republicans “talk themselves out” as soon as possible and force an early vote. This policy was agreed to. But even after the agreement had been reached it was impossible to restrain some talkative Democrats from entering into verbal combat with the opposition and thus consuming precious time unnecessarily.
Thus during the long, weary days, weeks, months that these party and administration measures were pending Kern was at his post in the all but deserted senate chamber, paving the way for the vote; and when all the differences had been ironed out as to details, and the opposition had exhausted its lung power, and noses had been counted, and victory was assured, and the day for the vote was fixed, the orators flocked into the chamber from the ball park and the race courses to thrill the packed galleries with their perfectly useless eloquence and grasp the headlines on the first page of the daily papers to impress the groundlings with the idea that they had contributed mightily to the result. On these grandstand occasions Kern attracted no attention in the galleries.
But with the credit he was not at all concerned. It was enough for him that a victory had been scored and that he had done his full duty.
During the four years Kern’s relations with President Wilson were cordial and confidential. His admiration for the president knew no bounds. He never left him after a conference without being impressed anew with his remarkable grasp of affairs, his amazing prescience, his genius for work. “Uncannily wise”—was his verdict on one occasion. His conferences at the White House were so frequent that they became as the regular routine. Very often he went to the White House at night alone. And while some statesmen never failed to capitalize all meetings with the president, one of the rules laid down by Kern for the guidance of his office force was that no publicity should ever be given to his visits to the other end of the avenue. No living man is capable of properly estimating his services to the first administration of Woodrow Wilson but the president himself.
During the trying days of late August and early September, 1916, the country was seriously threatened with a general railroad strike that would have prostrated business and wrought general ruin. There have been a few more important but probably never more dramatic incidents than those surrounding the president’s efforts to save the country from this disaster. When he summoned the railroad presidents and the men to the White House for conferences it was with high hopes that a mere appeal to their patriotism would result in mutual concessions, but it soon developed that the presidents of the roads were indifferent to the public welfare. As the day set forthe strike approached everything was laid aside by the president and the congress to concentrate upon the one pressing problem. On the night of the day the railroad presidents refused to accept President Wilson’s plan of settlement calling for an eight-hour day for the men, increased freight rates for the roads and a permanent arbitration commission, some light is thrown on the situation as it appeared to the leaders at the capitol in a letter of Senator Kern to Mrs. Kern:
“I am heartsick to-night that I can not be with you to-morrow (Sunday), but things are happening so rapidly here that I can’t leave. Nobody knows what is going to happen the next day. The railroad situation is alarming. The railroad presidents who are here seem to be determined not to yield to the president’s requests, and if they persist it means the greatest strike in the history of the country—one that will tie up every railroad and stop every train in the country. The president came to the capitol to-day and called Senator Newlands, chairman of the Railroad committee, and myself into his room to talk over a proposition to amend some of our arbitration laws and the Interstate Commerce law, so as to make further negotiations possible.... It is difficult to-night to foretell just what the outcome will be. The men who own the roads seem to care nothing for the public interests, and if disaster comes it will largely be their fault. I am calling the Steering committee together to-morrow (Sunday) and thepresident will probably come down to confer with a number of senators and congressmen Monday morning. I am holding up in health first rate. The weather has been much better since I last wrote you and is pleasant to-night. Yesterday morning I woke up at 6 o’clock and pulled down the blinds and thought I would sleep until 7:30 and didn’t wake up until 9. Am trying to get at least eight hours sleep every night.”
“I am heartsick to-night that I can not be with you to-morrow (Sunday), but things are happening so rapidly here that I can’t leave. Nobody knows what is going to happen the next day. The railroad situation is alarming. The railroad presidents who are here seem to be determined not to yield to the president’s requests, and if they persist it means the greatest strike in the history of the country—one that will tie up every railroad and stop every train in the country. The president came to the capitol to-day and called Senator Newlands, chairman of the Railroad committee, and myself into his room to talk over a proposition to amend some of our arbitration laws and the Interstate Commerce law, so as to make further negotiations possible.... It is difficult to-night to foretell just what the outcome will be. The men who own the roads seem to care nothing for the public interests, and if disaster comes it will largely be their fault. I am calling the Steering committee together to-morrow (Sunday) and thepresident will probably come down to confer with a number of senators and congressmen Monday morning. I am holding up in health first rate. The weather has been much better since I last wrote you and is pleasant to-night. Yesterday morning I woke up at 6 o’clock and pulled down the blinds and thought I would sleep until 7:30 and didn’t wake up until 9. Am trying to get at least eight hours sleep every night.”
The following day the Steering committee met in the morning, the railroad presidents, unbending, left for their various headquarters to prepare for the strike, and that night (Sunday) the president did an unprecedented thing. It was a stormy night, the rain descending in a torrent, and the Finance committee was at work in the room in the basement of the capitol. Suddenly the capitol police, who had deserted the entrances to the capitol for their own room in the basement, were startled by the appearance of the president at their door. He had left the White House in his machine in the storm in search of Senator Kern. The senator was summoned from the committee room, and in the gloomy basement corridors the president and the senator began a conference which ended in the president’s room off the senate chamber after a janitor had been found to open the door. It was that night that President Wilson announced that he would hold the congress in session until the needed railroad legislation was enacted.
On Monday morning the conference of the president with senators took place in Kern’s private room, 249 Senate building. A second conference was held in the same room during the crisis—a history-making conference—at which the president’s line of action was outlined and adopted. The needed legislation was enacted on September 2, the country was spared the most disastrous industrial conflict in its history, and the country will not soon forget the remarkable indifference of the railroad presidents to the public’s interest. Throughout this crisis Senator Kern played a more important part than appeared upon the surface. His popularity with organized labor made it possible for him to bring some influence to bear upon their attitude, and he was kept in touch with all the conferences of the men through reports submitted to him after each meeting by men participating in them.
During the last two years and more of his leadership Senator Kern was greatly concerned with the international situation as it related to the world war. He hated war. He understood the frightful meaning of the struggle should conditions force us in. While not a member of the committee on Foreign Relations, he was in the confidence of the president and knew of the conditions that were tending to make war inevitable to a self-respecting people. So passionately was he opposed to war that he had littlepatience with Americans on pleasure bent insisting on traveling unnecessarily—through the war zone. He recognized their legal right to do so but was intolerant of their indifference to the possible effect upon the peace of a hundred million people. And yet he supported every move made by the president as justified by the insane policy of Berlin. “The condition is hell,” he wrote a friend in January, 1916. “The cyclone may hit us within a few weeks. Nothing short of a miracle can stop it. I have been up against some pretty knotty propositions, but nothing like this.”
On February 21, 1916, the president called into conference at the White House Senator Kern, Senator Stone, chairman of the Foreign Relations committee of the senate, and Representative Flood, chairman of the Foreign Relations committee of the house—a conference prolific of endless speculation and portentous in its meaning, in which, according toThe Literary Digest, he announced that he would “prolong negotiations with Germany no longer if the coming communication from Berlin fails to meet the views of the United States.” That crisis passed with the acceptance by Germany of the American view—an acceptance that was to be repudiated by Chancellor von Hollweg a year later with the remarkable explanation that at the time the promise was made in regard to ruthless submarine warfare Germany wasnot in position to refuse. During the short session of December, 1916-March, 1917, the atmosphere of Washington was charged with electricity. The discovery of the Zimmerman plot in Mexico and the repudiation of the submarine pledge left little ground on which to predicate a hope for peace. At the capitol something was expected to happen at any moment. When the president asked the congress for authorization to arm merchantmen Senator Kern supported the authorization, and the end of his leadership, and of his senatorial career, came at an hour when we could already hear from afar the thunder of the guns.
During the four years of his leadership Senator Kern was thrown into intimate contact with members of the cabinet who were interested in administration measures affecting their departments. His relations with Mr. Bryan continued to be cordial and close, and while he frequently consulted with him on party policy, his official relations with the secretary of state were not so important as with other members of the cabinet. In the nature of things he was more frequently called into consultation by Secretary of the Treasury William G. McAdoo than by any others. With the tariff bill, the currency bill and the ship purchase bill, three of the most important administration measures, the head of the treasury department was deeply concerned. In the courseof innumerable conferences Kern formed a high opinion of McAdoo’s statesmanship and capacity for leadership, and the mutual nature of the appreciation is manifest in the letter from Mr. McAdoo, now before me, in which he says:
“John W. Kern served as Democratic leader of the senate during a period when some of the most important legislation in the history of the country was enacted into law. With the people’s interest ever uppermost in his mind, he marshaled the forces of his party with infinite patience and tact, and always with self-effacement. He was loved and respected by his colleagues, regardless of party, and always possessed the confidence of the public and the administration. He was a patriot and citizen of sterling worth, and the Democratic party had in him an able, genuine and genial leader.”
“John W. Kern served as Democratic leader of the senate during a period when some of the most important legislation in the history of the country was enacted into law. With the people’s interest ever uppermost in his mind, he marshaled the forces of his party with infinite patience and tact, and always with self-effacement. He was loved and respected by his colleagues, regardless of party, and always possessed the confidence of the public and the administration. He was a patriot and citizen of sterling worth, and the Democratic party had in him an able, genuine and genial leader.”
After Bryan and McAdoo, his most intimate relations were with Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels and Secretary of Labor William B. Wilson. There was much in common between the secretary of the navy and the senate leader. Their friendship long antedated the triumph of the party. The genuine democracy, the sincerity and simplicity of manner, and the high moral character of Daniels made him peculiarly attractive to Kern; and during the time that the sinister special interests were busy with their propaganda of belittlement of the secretary,when Kern was cognizant of the wonderful record he was making, he took occasion several times to protest from the senate floor. The senator’s estimate has been so overwhelmingly vindicated by events since the United States entered the war that nothing need to be said of the viciousness of the assaults.
It was inevitable, of course, that Kern should have been intimately identified with Secretary Wilson. No member of the senate was so wholeheartedly in harmony with the labor movement or with the policies that the labor department espoused. It will one day be recognized as fortunate that the senate leader during the first days of this department was not only friendly but aggressively so. It did not require more than an occasional hour in the gallery to observe at times a distinct feeling of hostility to the new department, which was not confined by any means to the Republican side of the chamber. This was observable in the matter of appropriations to carry on its work. Kern was ever alert to protect it against injustice and ever ready to actively co-operate with Secretary Wilson in all his plans.
While not thrown into such frequent contact with Secretary of the Interior Franklin K. Lane, he looked upon him as one of the strongest men in the administration, whose uncompromising progressivism was one of the party’s strongest assets, and this feeling was warmly reciprocated by Lane.
Thus, dedicating himself and all his energy to helping put through a progressive program of which he had dreamed for many years, working with administration leaders for whom he had not only admiration but affection, he was happy to serve, to efface himself in serving, and to find his reward in the achievements.
It is significant of his personal popularity with his colleagues that after four years of the most trying, grinding legislative achievement in the history of the republic, he carried from the chamber at the close the confidence and affection of the men with whom he wrought.
This was due in large part to his infinite patience and never-failing tact. He never assumed the rôle of a dictator. It would have been repugnant to his nature, and would have outraged his sense of the proprieties. Had he, or any one else undertaken to lead as Aldrich led for the opposition so many years, he would have invited an inevitable revolt. He carried his points by his insistent pursuasiveness. It was much easier for his colleagues to conform with his wishes than to run counter to them.
I am indebted to Senator Charles S. Thomas, one of the keenest intellects in the senate, for an appraisement of his leadership from the viewpoint of his fellow senators: