We arrive in Philadelphia, which means the City of Brotherly Love, and observe in every down-town city block its ideals embodied in especially large men in blue uniform, riding on especially large horses and carrying especially large clubs, also revolvers scarcely concealed. Philadelphia is located in the state of Pennsylvania, which means Penn’s Woodland, and was named after a radical pacifist. All over these woodlands now ride the state constabulary, and club the heads of persons such as William Penn whenever they show themselves in action.
In the New York branch of our plutocratic empire of education we found the emperor, and in the Boston branch we found his son; in Philadelphia we find the eldest of the grand dukes. The office of J. P. Morgan & Company in that city is known as Drexel & Company, and Philadelphia’s great university is presided over by Mr. Edward T. Stotesbury, head of Drexel & Company, and partner in J. P. Morgan & Company of New York. Mr. Stotesbury is the chief investment banker of that part of the country; he is president of three railroads and director in about twenty, also in about twenty coal companies, and as many financial institutions, banks, trust companies, safe deposit and insurance companies, also the Baldwin Locomotive Works and the Cambria Steel Company. The laws of the United States strictly forbid railroads to own coal companies, and vice versa, but the interlocking directorate has defied this law for a generation, and Mr. Stotesbury is one of the principal defiers.
This eldest of the grand dukes is active in their Grand Ducal party, having taken the job of raising the money to buy the presidency of the United States in 1904 and 1908. He is also a patron of the graces of life; he spent fourteen thousand dollars for a trotting horse in a city in which tens of thousands of little children go to school hungry every day; he is so little ashamed of this performance that he caused it to be embodied in his biography in “Who’s Who.” As second grand duke of his university, Mr. Stotesbury has the son of old “Pete” Widener, Philadelphia’s traction king; as assistants on the board of this university he has a partner in his banking firm, and a choice assortment of plutocrats, totalling as follows: five bankers, three lawyers, two public utility officials, two corporation officials, three manufacturers, an insurance and coal mining man, a publisher, an architect, an engineer, two doctors, two judges, and a senator. It is difficult to classify these trustees exactly, because the functions of the various members overlap; most of the bankers are in the coal business, the lawyers are directors in banks, the architect is an exbanker, the engineer is director of a power company and a trolley company, while the publisher is president of a steel company and a railroad, and director of a national bank. One of the public utility officials is the brother of Senator Penrose, one of the most aristocratic political corruptionists America ever had; one of the lawyers, Wickersham, was Taft’s attorney general; the senator is George Wharton Pepper, chief lackey to the plutocracy of Pennsylvania. Another lawyer is general counsel and active vice-president of the United Gas Improvement Company; two of the bankers are directors in that company. Another of the bankers is a sugar smuggler, and one of the manufacturers helped in the effort to buy a presidential nomination for General Wood.
One could not get a more plutocratic board than this; and the significant thing about it is that they are nearly all of them active, hard-fighting plutocrats; no retired bandits fattening on their accumulated loot, but hard campaigners, living in the saddle, riding day by day to combat. They are the banking men, the coal men, the gas men, the railroad men, who are robbing the public and crushing labor hour by hour, and the control they exercise over their educational system is of the instant, vigilant, smashing kind which you would expect from military men on hard service.
It is a little difficult to find a satisfactory name for a university in which so many plutocratic interests are so completely represented. I might call it the University of Morgan-Drexel, or I might call it the University of the Pennsylvania Railroad, and be entirely just and exact. After studying its management and history, I realize that its most active single interest is the United Gas Improvement Company of Philadelphia, known as U. G. I. You must not think of this as a local gas company; it is a great chain of corporations, ruling over three hundred cities and towns, and with a total investment of five hundred millions of dollars. Of the seven directors of this concern, Mr. Stotesbury and two others are on the board of the university, and a fourth left only last year; also an attorney for the U. G. I. is on the board. Mr. Randall Morgan, vice president of the U. G. I., is chairman of the finance committee of the university, the all-powerful position.
Some eighteen years ago Lincoln Steffens described the City of Brotherly Love in an article entitled “Philadelphia Corrupt and Contented.” He told how the political ring voted dead dogs and Negro babies at elections, and how they played poker in hotel rooms for the franchises and public privileges of the city. Philadelphia was corrupt in those days, but it was not really contented; for the people had assembled with ropes in their hands, to mob their city councilmen who were giving away a franchise to the U. G. I. But since those days the war has come, and taught our rulers how to handle social discontent. There was a general strike in the City of Brotherly Love, and it was smashed; the little Socialist bookstore was raided, the books burned and everybody who sold them jailed, and now Philadelphia is truly contented, and where the interlocking directorate used to plunder in tens of millions it now plunders in hundreds.[E]
[Footnote E: In April, 1922, all the officers and directors of the United Gas Improvement Company, and its subsidiaries, were indicted by the Federal grand jury in New York for criminal activities. This grand jury took testimony for over four weeks, hearing city officials from all over the Eastern and Central states. The charges listed in the indictment were that the U. G. I. “(1) instituted and caused to be instituted unwarranted, vexatious and tortuous litigation against competitors for the purpose of injuring and intimidating them and preventing them from continuing to engage in the industry; (2) instigating the false arrest of competitors and falsely charged said competitors with counterfeiting trade-marks; (3) acquired control of competing companies wherever possible and operated said companies as ostensible but not real competitors of the United Gas Improvement Company; (4) secretly and fraudulently acquired stock control of competing companies and eliminated competition on the part of said companies; (5) entered or caused to be entered collusive bids for contracts for furnishing and maintaining incandescent gas street lamps by two or more companies belonging to the United Gas Improvement Company, each company falsely representing itself to be independent and not connected with any other company bidding for the same contract; (6) concealed and denied ownership of various subsidiary companies, and operated said companies ostensibly as competitors but in fact as unlawful instruments in accomplishing the objects of the combination and monopoly; (7) circulated or caused to be circulated false and misleading reports concerning competitors for the purpose of preventing competition; (8) molested, injured, and interfered with competitors for the purpose of intimidating and discouraging them and preventing them from continuing as competitors in the industry; (9) entered into contracts with competitors whereby said competitors agreed to refrain from competition.” The prosecutions were called off by Attorney-General Daugherty, the particular government official whom President Harding has appointed for the protecting of big business criminals in the United States.]
From the beginning the U. G. I. has been vigilant in holding down the professors in its university. As early as 1886 Professor Edmund J. James prepared a paper in which he showed the excessive cost of gas furnished by private companies; for this he was severely mishandled. Later on, when a syndicate was formed to steal the waterworks from the city of Philadelphia, they offered Professor James twenty thousand dollars to keep still on the subject of municipal waterworks; and when he declined this most generous proposition, they let him go to the University of Chicago.
Next, in 1898, Professor Leo S. Rowe, now director of the Pan-American Union, published a paper on Philadelphia’s experiences with its gas supply. Mr. Clark, one of the vice-presidents of the U. G. I., took great offense at these statements and made desperate efforts to compel Mr. Rowe to change them. Professor E. W. Bemis of the University of Chicago has stated over his own signature as follows: “Failing in this endeavor, he, Clark, became much excited, and declared to me that if Professor Rowe did not change or withdraw the account, he would lose all social and scientific standing in Philadelphia and at the University of Pennsylvania. Mr. Clark added that he was positive of this, because he was in close touch with both the city and the university.” Bear in mind, if you can, the name of this injudicious Professor Bemis, because we shall hear about him and his adventures at the University of Chicago.
A friend of mine in Philadelphia, who was in touch with this controversy, told me the curious experience of a young instructor, who is now connected with the State Department at Washington. This instructor dug out information concerning certain defects in the charter of the U. G. I.; and when the directors of the company learned what he had got, they treated him to “the finest dinner on earth.” “One thing we want to suggest that you change,” etc. “Well,” said the young instructor, “I got this out of an ordinance.” He went to his dean with the facts, and the dean found he was right and told him to stick by it. This dean was Lewis, another man who got into trouble in the university, and had a ten years’ campaign to hold his job, because he persisted in taking part in the activities of the Progressive party. The young instructor turned his material over to Professor Rowe, and Rowe made use of it, and as a result his salary was held down for years; none of his young instructors could get promoted, and he was handicapped at every turn. Finally, when he was doing war work for the government, and Secretary McAdoo asked for further leave of absence, an ugly answer was returned by the university, and Professor Rowe was forced to withdraw.