“What better man could we have to open a convention?
“What better man could we have to represent the spirit of progressive Democracy?”
As Mr. Bryan was concluding his remarkable speech Senator Kern appeared upon the platform. No one knew his intent. And when the Commoner sat down, both cheered and hissed, and Kern claimed the recognition of the chair, a hush of expectancy fell upon the great convention. Throughout his speech, in some respects one of the most dramatic and effective ever delivered at a national convention, he was given the most respectful attention. Pale and wan from his sleepless night, he looked frail, but his voice was in excellent condition, and the interest of the delegates in his message was so intense that little difficulty was found in hearing him in the most remote portions of the gallery. As he referred to the time in his youth when, in 1872 he attended a Democratic national convention in Baltimore and said that the enthusiasm for Democracy in his young heart then was “no greater than that which glowed in his old heart now” he made a subtle appeal. His almost affectionate reference to his personal friendship for Judge Parker predisposed the followers of the New Yorker to a friendly attitude toward the speaker. And when he made his dramatic personal appeal to Parker, seated in the New York delegation, to join with him in the interest of harmony in withdrawing, and in deciding upon some one of numerous men he mentioned, the scene was almost theatrical. Here and there were murmurs, and Parker was seen engaged in earnest, animated conversation with his colleagues. There is no record of the nature of that conversation. There can be little doubt, however, that had he been an absolutely free agent at that moment, with no sense of obligations to those who were supporting him, he would have responded in the spirit in which the proposition was submitted. With Kern standing in silence waiting for the hoped-for answer, with Parker surrounded by gesticulative men, with the convention growing nervous under the tension, the scene was almost theatrical. And when, on finding that Parker would not respond, Kern turned to Charles F. Murphy, the Tammany chief, referring to him as “the leader of the New York Democracy, who holds that democracy in the hollow of his hand” and made the appeal to him, it was as though a bomb had been dropped from the ceiling. Receiving no response from Murphy, who sat in his seat stolid and unmoved, the attitude of Kern changed instantly from supplication to defiance, and with the declaration that if the contest must be “between the people and the powers,” there was but one man to lead, and withdrew his own name and nominated Bryan it was like the startling effect of an unexpected thunderbolt. This remarkable speech follows:
“Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen of the Convention—I desire a hearing in order that I may state my reason for not desiring to enter the contest for temporary chairman of this convention. I believe that by forty years of service to my party I have earned the right to a hearing at the hands of a Democratic convention. I hail from the state of Indiana, which will shortly present to this convention for its consideration the name of one of the best, truest, and most gallant Democrats on earth, in the person of the Hon. Thomas R. Marshall, the governor of that state.
“I desire to take no part in this convention that will in any wise militate against him or against his interests, which all true Indiana Democrats this day loyally support. I have been for many years a personal friend of the gentleman who has been named by the national committee. Many years ago, when Judge Parker and I were much younger than we are now, we met in a hotel in Europe and became warm personal friends. That was long before his elevation to the chief justiceship of the court of appeals of his state. Since that time I have enjoyed his friendship. He had had mine. I have accepted the hospitality of his home, and in 1904, when he was a candidate for the presidential nomination, moved largely by that personal friendship, I enlisted under his standard for the nomination long before the convention, and went through that great battle at St. Louis in his behalf. In that campaign, in response to a request of Judge Parker personally made to me, I, on account of my friendship for him, took the standard of a losing cause as candidate for governor of Indiana, and carried it on to defeat, but I hope not an inglorious defeat. In 1908 Judge Parker canvassed in my state for vice-president. Last year when I was a candidate for the national ticket, on which I was a candidate for the senate, in the midst of a heated contest, Judge Parker traveled from New York to Indianapolis to make a speech in my behalf.
“We have been during all these years, and are now, personal friends. The greatest desire of my heart is the hope of a Democratic victory. I attended a national convention in Baltimore in 1872, before I had cast my vote, and my young heart was filled with no more enthusiasm for success that year than my old heart is now. I believe that Judge Parker is as earnestly in favor, as earnestly desirous of Democratic success this year as I am.
“There are only a little over a thousand delegates in this convention; there are seven million Democrats between the oceans. There are millions of Democrats scattered from one end of this country to the other who at this hour are all looking with aching hearts upon the signs of discord that prevail here when there ought to be forerunners of victory in the shouts of this convention. Is there a man here who does not earnestly desire harmony to the end that there may be victory?
“I am going to appeal now and here for that kind of harmony which will change the sadness which at this hour exists in millions of Democratic homes into shouts of joy and gladness.
“My friend, Judge Parker, sits before me in this convention, he representing the national committee, I representing, not another faction, thank God, but representing perhaps another section, and we two men have it within our power to send these words of gladness flashing throughout the republic. If my friend will join with me now and here in the selection of a man satisfactory to us both; if he will stand in this presence with me and agree that that distinguished New Yorker who has brought more honor to the Empire state in the United States senate than it has had since the days of Frederick Kernan—James A. O’Gorman—this discord will cease in a moment and the great Democratic party will present a united front. Or if he will agree that that splendid representative from the state of Texas in that same body, Charles A. Culberson shall preside, or if he will agree upon that splendid parliamentarian, Henry D. Clayton of Alabama, or if he will agree upon that young Tennesseean, whose name is known in every home where chivalry abides—Luke Lea—this matter will be settled in a moment. Or if he will agree upon the blue-eyed statesman from Ohio, Governor James E. Campbell; or if he will agree upon the reformer governor of Missouri, ex-Governor Folk; or if he will agree on my own colleague, the stalwart Democrat from Indiana, Benjamin F. Shively, all this discord will cease.
“Will some one for Judge Parker, will Judge Parker himself, meet me on this ground and aid in the solution of this problem, a solution of which means victory to the party and relief to the taxpayers of the country?