III
The extraordinary session called in April, 1911, by President Taft in the hope and expectation of the early passage of the Canadian Reciprocity bill dragged dismally through the terrific heat of that summer and did not conclude until in the last week in August. The hearings by the Finance committee were unnecessarily prolonged, and largely through the insistence of leading members of the president’s own party, who feared the possible effect of the slightest breach in the protection walls. Never, unless during the period that the Payne-Aldrich bill was in process of incubation, had the capital been so overrun with the professional lobbyists of the interests, posing as representatives of the farmers, while lolling in evening dress at night in Peacock Alley at the Willard. Senator Kern, when not engaged with the Lorimer investigation, occupied his seat at the table, and he was in hearty sympathy with the principle involved and with the patriotic purpose of President Taft, for whom he entertained a personal affection. For the purpose of convenience I shall here disregard the chronological order of events, and complete the story of his work during the 62nd congress with the exception of his most important work on the Lorimer committee, which requires a separate chapter. In doing so I shall merely touch upon incidents reflecting his views on public questions of vital interests.
In the winter of 1911-12 his position relative to the legitimate interest of the nation in labor difficulties directly affecting single states, foreshadowing the fight he was destined to make on behalf of the coal miners of West Virginia, was disclosed in the discussion of a resolution directing or requesting the Commissioner of Labor to furnish full information to the senate regarding the condition of the textile mill workers of Lawrence, Massachusetts. A strike had been on for some time, and in addition to the most startling disclosures, through the press, of the wages, ages and living conditions of the workers, it was charged that the local authorities of Lawrence had forcibly prevented the wives of the strikers from sending their children into other states where provision had been made for their proper feeding during the continuance of the strike. An opposition to the resolution had developed in the senate under the guise of a protest against any intended federal interference with the rights of the states, very similar to that which was to be invoked in the case of West Virginia, and led by the same man, Senator Bacon of Georgia. Senator Kern participated in the debate on behalf of the resolution. This was not to be his last manifestation of impatience with the disposition to invoke the “rights” and the “dignity” of states for the prevention of federal interference with barbarous conditions affecting the lowly. The resolution was ultimately adopted in amended form, but in the meanwhile the house of representatives had entered into a thorough investigation which exposed conditions so inhuman as to shock the country.
And as the Lawrence resolution foreshadowed his views on West Virginia, the views he was to express in the Lorimer report were indicated in advance in the debate on the report of the senatorial committee, which had investigated the charge that Senator Stephenson of Wisconsin had attained his seat through the wholesale corruption of voters in a primary. The accused senator, a millionaire, with no pretense to statesmanship or high political capacity, and representing the opposition to Lafollette, had admittedly turned over to his political managers extraordinary sums of money. It was his contention that this had been intended for proper purposes, the renting of halls, advertising, and the payment of the traveling expenses of speakers. It was developed that this money had undoubtedly been used for corruption purposes, but there was considerable sympathy for Stephenson, whose term was drawing to a close and who was very old and feeble. “Why disgrace him on the brink of the grave?” was the plea of his supporters. And the little frail figure with the scraggly beard and sad old eyes looking into space, while the jaws worked ceaselessly in the chewing of gum, did appeal to one’s sense of the pathetic. Senator Kern admitted to a feeling of compassion for the old man whose sins had found him out, but he was unwilling to compromise a principle on that account. There were features to the Stephenson case that appealed to him as infinitely more dangerous than any developed in the case of Lorimer, for they went directly to the debauching of the electorate. During his participation in the discussion Kern scornfully assailed two sophistries dear to the corruptionist and urged in defense of the accused—the idea that the payment of money to men “to work” for a candidate is anything other than the bribing of the man, and the suggestion that the payment of money to an editor for editorial commendation of a candidate is anything other than a bribe of the most sinister nature. These two evils—the debauching of the voter and the subsidization of the press he looked upon as the gravest danger possible to free institutions. Hating the use of money for the control of elections with all his soul, he unhesitatingly put aside his personal sympathy for a very old man, and joined the minority in voting for his expulsion from the senate, to which he ought never have been admitted.
That he was not actuated in matters of this nature by the motives of a demagogue was shown in his attitude in the vote on the impeachment of Judge Archibald, a United States circuit judge of Scranton, Pennsylvania, accused of having made corrupt use of his office. The vote was taken early in January, 1913. In the early fall of 1912 Senator Kern had entered upon the defense of the officers of the Structural Iron Workers in the federal court in Indianapolis on the supposition that the case would be concluded long before congress would convene in December. The trial dragged along through many weeks and unable and unwilling to desert his clients in the midst of their trial he was unable to return to Washington until after the Christmas holidays. Not having had the opportunity to see and hear the witnesses he asked the senate to excuse him from voting, and his request was granted. This was characteristic. The cause of Judge Archibald was an exceedingly unpopular one, and had he been an ordinary poseur in his hatred of corruption in high places he could have voted in accord with what he knew public opinion to be. But a poseur he was not—and he always catered to the commendation of his own conscience.
In less than fifteen months after entering the senate he had taken a position by common consent among the Democratic leaders of that body, and had established a national reputation as an enemy of political corruption, as a friend of the civil war veteran, and as the special champion in the senate of the working classes of the country.