The life of John Worth Kern

by Claude G. Bowers

I

THE result of the election of 1912 was inevitable from the moment Mr. Roosevelt, in a pique because of his rejection by the Republican National Convention, organized a third party and accepted the presidential nomination upon its ticket. For the first time in many years the Democrats awoke the morning following the election to find themselves overwhelmingly triumphant, with Woodrow Wilson elected to the presidency, the Democratic majority in the house greatly increased, and the Republican majority in the senate swept away. But long before the rank and file of the party had permitted the bonfires to smoulder, the responsible leaders had sobered into a solemn realization of the gravity of the duty they would assume after the inauguration. The party had won by a minority vote, and the tenure of its power would depend upon the sincerity with which it met its pre-election obligations. The first two years of the Democratic administration would determine to a large extent the verdict of the public. The program of reformatory and constructive legislation promised in the platform and advocated by the leaders from Mr. Wilson down during the campaign was extensive; and it was to assume power, after years of opposition, with the suspicion, carefully fostered by Republican speakers and papers for almost half a century, that it was utterly lacking in the qualities of constructive statesmanship. More disturbing to Democrats, however, it was to assume power with painful memories of the schisms which had wrecked it during its brief tenure between 1893 and 1895. The trouble then had developed from the fact that the Democratic organization in the senate was under the domination of men who were not in sympathy with the party platform. And the meager majority in the Democratic senate served to accentuate the fear from this quarter. From the house no fear was entertained. There Champ Clark presided over a great majority, fresh from contact with the people. But in the senate, with the Republicans voting together, the disaffection of three Democrats on any measure would leave the Democratic party in a minority. And the haunting fear of those possible three conjured up visions of Hill, Brice and Smith.

It is not an exaggeration to say that when Woodrow Wilson took the oath of office the fate of the Democratic party for at least a generation rested with the small majority in the senate.

The sixty-third congress ushered into this body eleven new Democratic senators, and among them were several men of unusual capacity. New England, so recently hide-bound in its republicanism, sent Henry Hollis of New Hampshire, a young man of constructive ability and progressive principles. New Jersey contributed a second Democrat in William Hughes, a radical, and an ardent supporter of the new president. Little Delaware turned again to a distinguished Democratic family which had previously been represented in the senate and sent Willard Saulsbury, who was known to be in hearty sympathy with the Baltimore platform. From Kentucky appeared the eloquent Ollie James, the idol of the progressives from coast to coast, and from Illinois the equally eloquent and brilliant James Hamilton Lewis, in whom equal confidence was felt. From Colorado, Governor Shafroth, a veteran in the battles for reform; from Montana, the scholarly, clear-thinking and progressive Thomas J. Walsh, destined to become a pillar of strength to the cause he had always stood for; from Mississippi, James K. Vardaman, who had been nominated over his predecessor in the senate on the issue of progressivism; from Louisiana, Joseph E. Ransdell, concerning whom no fears were entertained; and from Kansas, William H. Thompson, uncompromisingly progressive.

Of the eleven new Democratic senators there was not one whose record and principles did not harmonize with the program the party had promised the people in the platform adopted at Baltimore. And

the Democrats who had entered but two years before—men such as Kern, O’Gorman, Lea, Williams, Ashurst, Pomerene, Reed, Myers and Johnson—were looked to with equal assurance. These twenty men, all fresh from the people and temperamentally progressive in their principles, together with some of the older senators in point of service, like Shively of Indiana and Stone of Missouri, were expected by the rank and file to hold the Democratic senate true to the Democratic platform, and to sustain the president in his program.

The short and last session of the sixty-second congress was unimportant in regard to legislation and senators, especially on the Democratic side, gave themselves up largely to personal and party politics. The Republicans could only sit back and wait. To Democrats, and especially they who had entered two years before, the future organization of the senate was the matter of prime importance. The newly elected men who were to be sworn in on March 4th came and went. Without exception they entered heartily into the views of the militantly progressive element that the logic of the situation called for a reorganization, with a new leader and new rules that would make legislation more responsive to the popular will. The congress had not been in session two days before the determination had been reached to challenge the old regime in the coming caucus by presenting a candidate in opposition to the re-election of Senator Martin to the leadership. Even before the congress had convened some of the leaders in the new movement had been in communication with the newly elected senators and a day or two of canvassing among the older members convinced them that a new leader could and should be chosen.

In all of these preliminary maneuvers and conferences Senator Kern had no part, and he was so occupied until after the holiday recess with the trial of the Structural Iron Workers in the Federal Court at Indianapolis that he had no time for seriously considering the reorganization of the senate. He had been retained for the defense at a time when there was no reason for assuming that the trial would stretch out until December, but he was unable to make his closing argument until after the congressional recess.

The first indication he had that the reorganization movement had again been started and that his name was being considered in connection with the leadership came in the form of a telegram from one of the leaders to the effect that the former opposition to the old regime had “been strengthened by recruits,” that these, with the new senators, would be “sufficient to elect,” and asking for personal assurance of Kern’s co-operation in the movement and of his willingness to accept the chairmanship of the committee on Committees. It was characteristic of Senator Kern that he wired the assurance of his co-operation in the movement and gave no encouragement to the proposal to elect him to the leadership. This telegram was sent just one week after the opening of the short session.

On Sunday evening, the latter part of February, about thirty of the fifty-one Democratic members of the senate met in conference at the home of Senator Luke Lea on Massachusetts avenue to determine upon their candidate for the leadership. At this meeting the qualifications of several men were considered, and one by one all were eliminated until only Senator Kern remained. No effort had been made to secure support for him, nor was he present at the conference. Thus without even expressing a desire for the position he was selected unanimously by the conferees after a process of elimination.

Never before in the history of the senate had any member been called to the leadership of the majority of that body after only two years of service in it. There were many reasons entering into the selection. The first qualification and the one of prime importance was that the leader should be known nationally as a progressive in complete harmony with the Baltimore platform and with the program of the incoming president. No member of the senate met these requirements more fully. His entire life politically was in harmony with the program, and he had been chairman of the committee on Resolutions at the national convention.

In this qualification he did not stand alone. But there were other requirements. With such a meager majority, when the disaffection of three Democrats might wreck the party program and renew the disaster of the second Cleveland administration, nothing was more essential than the possession of infinite tact. This he was known to possess in a marked degree. And along with tact, ineffable patience.

During the two years succeeding the inauguration the program of the administration could have been hopelessly wrecked and the party discredited as a constructive force through the impetuosity of a hot-headed leader, or one unable to restrain his impatience or disgust. Senator Joseph W. Bailey, one of the most brilliant senators in half a century, once frankly admitted his unfitness for the leadership on that account. The conditions called for a conciliator, and here personal popularity was important. No one was more generally popular than Kern. And along with his tact, patience and popularity, his reputation for hard common sense and practicability operated to make his election more feasible than that of any one else. And his forty years of unselfish service to his party gave assurance that with him charged with responsibility there would be no successful surprise attacks of the opposition because of any slackening of vigilance.

The announcement that the conference had been held and Senator Kern determined upon as the candidate of the “new deal” element practically ended the contest. It was not a secret that President Wilson would be entirely satisfied to risk his measures in the senate under his leadership. Five days after the thirty senators met at the home of Senator Lea the announcement was made that Senator Martin would not be a candidate for re-election. And when the caucus met, on March 5th, Senator Kern was unanimously elected.

In his first act as leader of the Democratic majority, the appointment of the committee on Committees, popularly known as the Steering committee, which is charged with the general formulation of the policies and program, he gave evidence of the conciliatory tone his leadership would assume. He might have packed the committee with radicals, but that would have been a challenge, and his course throughout was to be one of conciliation. Senator Martin was appointed along with Senator Clark of Arkansas to represent the conservatives, but with Chamberlain, Owen, O’Gorman, Hoke Smith, Lea and Thomas the committee was safely progressive. The revolutionary nature of the selections, however, appeared in the fact that of the nine members Kern, O’Gorman and Lea had only been in the senate two years, Hoke Smith less than two years, and Thomas had just taken his seat—five of the nine being new figures. Thus from the first step the old, superannuated and unpopular rule of seniority which in the days of the Aldrich domination a few men were able to control legislation and to a large degree effect the usefulness of members through committee assignments, was made the object of attack. If the rule of “seniority” was not destroyed in 1913 it was so badly shattered that it could easily have been given the finishing stroke.

In the appointment of the committees the tact of Senator Kern and his co-workers on the committee was noted by the Review of Reviews. His first purpose was to make the personnel of the important committees safely progressive, and after that to come as nearly satisfying or reconciling everybody as possible. This presented a seemingly impossible puzzle. Men who under the old regime and methods would have stepped without a struggle into coveted places found themselves compelled to choose between important assignments instead of taking both. During the time the committee was at work Senator Kern was pulled and hauled and importuned by senators who threatened in some instances and sulked in others. At times the task of organizing the senate for business without creating animosities that would seriously disturb the unity essential to Democratic achievement seemed hopeless. But Kern’s tact, persuasion and hard common sense prevailed over all difficulties, and when the work was completed every senator with one exception expressed satisfaction with the arrangement. This one exception was Senator Bacon of Georgia, who wished to hold two coveted places—the chairmanship of the committee on Foreign Relations and the position of president pro tem. He was given the more important chairmanship, and Senator Clark of Arkansas, an ultra conservative, was made president pro tem. However, such was the tact and kindliness of Senator Kern, who greatly admired the exceptional ability of the venerable Georgian that the latter soon forgot his disappointment.

In making the committee assignments the rule of seniority was set aside without compunction when it seemed necessary to making the senate progressive. There was no disposition to punish the ultra-conservatives or to humiliate them in any way. Because he was, at the time, looked upon as holding high protective views, there was a clamor among the radical tariff reformers against permitting Senator Simmonds, the ranking Democratic member of the Finance committee, to serve as its chairman. He was appointed chairman, but with Stone of Missouri, Williams of Mississippi, Johnson of Maine, Shively of Indiana, Gore of Oklahoma, Smith of Georgia, Thomas of Colorado, James of Kentucky and Hughes of New Jersey—all progressives and low-tariff men—upon the committee with him.

A new committee on Banking and Currency was created with Senator Owens as chairman and composed of men holding progressive views on currency legislation. This committee, instantly recognized as significant in view of the president’s campaign advocacy of currency reform, was to stand sponsor for the Federal Reserve system, conceded to be the greatest piece of constructive legislation in half a century.

Another new committee was created to handle Woman’s Suffrage legislation, and the liberal attitude of the new senate leaders toward the woman’s movement was shown in the appointment of Senator Thomas, an ardent advocate of suffrage to the chairmanship, and the friendly attitude of the majority of the senators composing it. This within itself indicated a radical change in the spirit of the senate, which had always before been prone to make short shift of bills and resolutions dealing with the suffrage question.

The election of Senator Kern as caucus chairman was the first sign that a new senate had been created; the announcement of the committee assignments was second, and this attracted wide attention and much discussion in the press. The Literary Digest found that “the reorganization of the senate has been accomplished in a way paralleling the overturn of Cannonism in the house by the practical abolition of the seniority rule in making up committees.” The Brooklyn Eagle, The Washington Times and The Washington Herald made the point that the senate had really become the more radical of the two branches of the congress. The Springfield Republican and The Providence Journal commended “the throwing off of the customary control of a perpetual succession based on seniority of service.” And Senator Kern in giving to the press his own interpretation of the action of the steering committee said it was the intention to make the senate “Democratic not only in name but in practical results.”

That, however, did not conclude the Democratization of the senate, for new rules were adopted which deprived chairmen of the arbitrary control over legislation which had been their portion during the long period of Aldrich-Hale rule. These rules provided that a majority of the committee might call the committee together at any time for the consideration of any pending bill; that a majority of the majority members might name sub-committees to consider pending measures and report to the full committee; and that a majority of the majority members might name members to confer with the house conferees on any bill on which the two houses might disagree. Strangely enough the adoption of these significant new rules which struck at the root of the evils of the old system failed to make much of an impression upon the press, which for the most part, passed them by without comment. The Review of Reviews, however, caught the significance and said that “even more significant than the personal changes which bring a new set of men into control of a body so recently managed by the extreme conservatives of both parties are the changes in the rules.”

The system thus displaced had long been recognized among progressives familiar with its mode of operation as sinister in the extreme. The chairman of a committee could indefinitely postpone action on any bill which did not appeal to him by refusing to call the committee together for its consideration.

If he did finally call the committee he had the autocratic power to name a sub-committee for its consideration packed with its enemies, who could be depended upon to bring in an unfavorable report. More sinister still, perhaps, was his power to select the conferees in the case of a disagreement between the two houses because the measure as passed by the senate could be radically altered in conference and completely changed from the form in which it left the senate and could only be rejected or accepted without amendment on its resubmission to the senate.

The new senate really deprived the chairman of a committee of any real power in excess of that of any of his colleagues on the committee and reduced him to the harmless status of a presiding officer.

Thus the election of Senator Kern to the leadership of the majority at the beginning of the first Wilson administration, with all that followed in keeping with the meaning of that selection, marked a revolutionary change in the United States senate, broke down the fetish of the seniority rule, smashed superannuated precedents and traditions, made difficult if not impossible the domination of the body by a small coterie of men entrenched in powerful chairmanships, and did more toward the democratization of the senate than had been done in half a century. And, what was more remarkable, it was all done with such tact and fairness that within a week the Democratic majority, small as it was, presented to the opposition a solid front prepared to make good the progressive pledges of the Baltimore platform and the pre-election speeches of President Wilson. How faithfully and effectively and unselfishly Senator Kern did his work during the four years of his leadership and especially during the first two years which were crowded as never before in history with vitally important constructive legislation will be discussed later in a single chapter.

CHAPTER XV
Kern’s Fight Against Feudalism in West Virginia

SCARCELY had Senator Kern assumed the leadership of the senate until he was engaged in the most notable and bitter battle of his career against the feudalism of the coal barons of West Virginia. His resolution for a senatorial investigation into the conditions in the Paint Creek district where anarchy was apparently in full flower, with the constitutional guaranties of citizens brushed aside, and men being tried for their lives by drumhead courtmartials while the civil courts were open, was the signal for the marshaling of an army of opposition embracing railroads, coal operators, bankers, all the powerful moneyed interests. Never before in history, in a distinct fight between the working classes on the one side and the great interests on the other, had the masses won in the senate. Never before had a senator just assuming leadership so audaciously challenged defeat. And he won.

But to appreciate the significance of his triumph it is necessary to record something of the ineffable inhumanity of the industrial feudalism which had been established through the employment of armies of gun-men, the subsidization of the press, the prostitution of the courts, the cringing sycophancy of politicians, and the organization of bi-partisan political machines to meet the demands of greed.

It must be a startling story—a story of greed fattening upon the hunger of children, of the trampling of inalienable rights, of the kicking to death of unborn babes by brutes untouched by the law, of the murder of women, and the shooting of unarmed men in the night—a story of tyranny and brutality as infamous and cruel as was ever born of the dynasty of the Romanoffs.

And this story, which shocked the most conservative members of the senate, and shamed a republic, must be told primarily because the American people have been told too little of it. And it must be told in the story of Kern as an illumination of his political character and as an explanation of the bitter hostility with which his course was viewed by such a large portion of “our best people” in his own state.

The story, of the “Kern Resolution” is the story of Kern. But behind the resolution itself is a story that must be told if we are to understand the full significance of it.