RUNNING WITH BRYAN
I
Long before the Denver convention in 1908 speculation was rife in
political circles as to the possibility of the nomination of Mr. Kern
for the vice-presidency. The nomination of Mr. Bryan for the third time
for the presidency had been a foregone conclusion since the disastrous
experiment of returning to “conservatism” in 1904, and the intimacy of
the personal relations between The Commoner and Mr. Kern gave color to
the rumors. There were many who really thought that the Nebraskan had
selected the Indiana leader as a running mate as much as a year before.
All this was purely speculative and without any color of justification,
but it served to keep Mr. Kern’s name in the mind of the leaders
throughout the country. To all suggestions that he permit the
presentation of his name to the convention he had invariably made
dissent. He was not unmindful of the distinction, and his personal
affection and admiration for the leader of the Democracy made the idea
of being associated with him in a great national campaign enticing. But
there were sufficient reasons for his desire to escape the
responsibility that would entail. Scarcely more than a year before he
had gone to Asheville in a serious physical condition and not at all
certain of his ability to successfully combat the tubercular trouble
that threatened an early termination of his career. He had recuperated
with unexpected rapidity and had left the sanatorium apparently out of
danger, but he and his family and intimate friends had grave doubts of
his ability to pass through the ordeal of a speaking campaign over the
country, with all that would mean of exposure, physical exhaustion and
mental worry. Some time before the convention he had confided to one of
his friends that but for his physical condition and his lack of means he
would be tempted to encourage the canvassing of his availability because
of what it would mean to his children. About that time he publicly
laughed at the suggestion of his possible nomination, and in the
presence of Mr. Bryan. It was on the occasion of a dinner of the Indiana
Democratic Club at Claypool Hotel in Indianapolis. John E. Hollet,
president of the club, had expressed the hope that he might be selected
as Mr. Bryan’s running mate, and Kern in speaking afterward referred
facetiously to the suggestion with a reminder of his poverty and the
necessity, in the event of his nomination and election, of being forced
to “live in one room.” In following, Mr. Bryan created much enthusiasm
among Kern’s friends and neighbors by saying that “if John is elected he
will not have to live in one room, for I will give him a part of the
White House.” This good-natured compliment was immediately given undue
significance, and from that hour the Indiana Democracy determined, if
conditions were at all auspicious to press the availability of Kern upon
the convention. There was no formal indorsement by the convention, but
the contingent of Democrats who turned their faces toward Denver did so
with the fixed determination to take advantage of any proper opportunity
to secure his nomination.
When Mr. Kern himself started to Denver it was with the definite
decision to discourage any movement in his behalf. When he reached
Chicago and found that the politicians of other states had been giving
serious consideration to his claims he thought it well to publicly make
his position clear. This he did in a letter to _The Indianapolis News_,
the substance of which was carried by the press associations throughout
the country.
“EDITOR OF THE NEWS:
“Sir--I am not, have never been, and will not be a candidate for
the vice-presidential nomination. For personal reasons involving
matters of business and health, I do not want the office and made
this plain to my friends long ago.
“My name will not be presented to the convention at Denver if I can
prevent it, and I think I can.
“I make this statement for the benefit of my friends, who may be
misled by newspaper reports, which persist in making me a candidate
against my will.
JOHN W. KERN.
“Chicago, July 1.”
As one of the delegates to the convention accompanying Mr. Kern to
Denver I know that during the long journey, during which the party was
constantly together and discussing the probable results of the
convention the name of the Indiana leader was not discussed, if so much
as mentioned, in connection with the vice-presidency. John E. Lamb, who,
after Kern and Taggart, was the most potential and widely known man on
the delegation, had for months accepted the latter’s statement that he
was not in condition, physically or financially to make the race. Among
the members of the party the hope may have been expressed that Indiana
would be given a place on the ticket, but never in the presence of the
man all had in mind.
The Kern party arrived at Lincoln, where it had been planned to stop
over for a conference with Mr. Bryan in the early morning and went to
bed at once at the Lincoln Hotel. It was a dismal night of rain, and in
the morning the rain was pouring down in torrents.
There was just one occasion during Mr. Kern’s visit to Lincoln when he
might have discussed the vice-presidency with Mr. Bryan. Soon after the
latter’s arrival at the hotel he held a conference with Kern and Lamb
in the former’s room at the Lincoln Hotel, and after a time Mr. Lamb
retired, leaving the two men who were destined to be on the ticket
together alone. I have satisfied myself that the vice-presidency was not
a subject of discussion by appealing to Mr. Bryan, who informs me that
he was in no way instrumental in determining the action of the
convention on the vice-presidency. “There was no plan for his
nomination,” he says. “His availability was discussed and it was known
that he was of the inner circle of my friends, but I did not attempt to
select a running mate.” This is important as disproving not only the
claim that he dictated the nomination of Mr. Kern but the report that he
exerted himself to persuade others to accept the nomination before Kern
was selected. Mr. Kern left Lincoln for Denver with no new reason for
assuming that he would play any other part in the convention than that
of chairman of the Indiana delegation and advocate of a thoroughly
progressive platform.
On reaching Denver, however, he found that his was among the half-dozen
names most insistently mentioned for the vice-presidency and himself the
subject of disconcerting notoriety. From the moment he was lined up at
the Denver railway station for a series of snapshots he was not
permitted to forget for a moment that an unsought honor might be thrust
upon him. Before the convention had been called to order some impetuous
Hoosiers had hung Kern lithographs in the hotel lobbies, and his first
interview on his arrival was in the nature of a disclaimer of any
designs on the nomination. Before he retired the first night he found
himself at a dinner given for Indiana people at the Savoy Hotel
converted into a “boom” dinner in his behalf, and this did not escape
the keen eye of the press. On the following day the Illinois delegation,
which had stopped at Lincoln, arrived with the message that “Kern’s
nomination would be satisfactory to Bryan,” and Willis J. Abbott,
described as having charge of publicity work for the Commoner, and fresh
from Lincoln, declared in an interview to which many attached
significance that “Mr. Bryan thinks a great deal of John W. Kern.” If
these incidents caused Mr. Kern any concern he did not show it in any
way. He threw himself into the preliminary work of the convention with
but one object in view--to make certain the adoption of a platform that
would be in complete harmony with Mr. Bryan’s views. At the time of the
fight over the seating of the Guffy delegation from Pennsylvania, which
became bitter, he failed to disclose the timidity or “discretion” of a
candidate, by going in among the delegations on the floor and urging
them to vote against the seating of the delegation of the Standard Oil
boss, and in the pointed manner in which he announced the solid vote of
Indiana against it. Even the press commented upon this attitude as
calculated to injure his “candidacy” in view of the opinion of some that
“something should be done to placate the Guffy element.”
During this time he occupied the same room at the Albany Hotel with Mr.
Lamb, and it is significant that it was not until the day before the
nomination was made that the latter gave any thought to the possibility
of his nomination. The two breakfasted, frequently lunched and dined
together, but Kern’s attitude was such that his companion was persuaded
that he would not, under any circumstances, consider the nomination. But
during all the time the Indiana contingent was chafing on the bits,
eager to begin an aggressive propaganda in his behalf. Meanwhile the
convention was completely at sea as to who to nominate. Under these
circumstances the Indiana delegation and others from Indiana not on the
delegation, such as John W. Holtzman, prevailed upon Kern to relent in
his opposition to their wishes to the extent of permitting them to make
a canvass of the sentiment of the convention.
Thus on July 9, one day before the convention was to act, the Indiana
contingent met at its headquarters at the Albany, and in the absence of
Mr. Kern perfected an organization for this purpose. Stokes Jackson,
the state chairman, presided and the writer served as secretary. A
committee composed of Holtzman, Representative Lincoln Dixon and Jackson
immediately selected committees to visit the delegations of all the
states not having a candidate with the view to determining their
possible reception of Kern’s candidacy. Never has a little group of men
set to a task with greater zest or enthusiasm. Never have men on such a
mission been more cordially received. While Mr. Kern had expressly
forbidden these committees to represent him as a candidate, not a few of
his zealous friends disregarded the spirit of the instructions, and
their reports were of such a nature that there was no longer any
possibility of holding the Hoosiers in check.
On the morning of the day of the nomination the Indianians were called
together for the purpose of hearing from Mr. Kern a more precise
definition of his position. He appeared with Lincoln Dixon and his
manner and appearance indicated that he was deeply moved not only by the
possible event of the afternoon, but by the fervency of his friends’
support. The customary smile was conspicuously absent and he spoke with
deep earnestness and feeling. His speech was brief, but it so perfectly
mirrored the spirit of the man, then and always, that it has a proper
place here.
“In the first place I want to thank you all for your good wishes
and your efforts in my behalf. But my position and yours is the
same that it has ever been since we came to Denver. I am not, and
have not been a candidate for the vice-presidential nomination, and
if there is to be any contest, any balloting at all, my name will
not be presented. That is what I wish the position of the Indiana
delegation to be, and if you agree with me that is what it will be.
Let us forget about it and go home and carry Indiana. God bless you
all.”
About the time he was uttering these words the leaders from over the
country were in conference canvassing the availability of the various
men mentioned, and here the Indiana leaders’ claims were being urged by
John E. Lamb and Thomas Taggart. The conference agreed that the best
interest of the party would be served by the nomination of Mr. Kern.
It was a feverish group of Indianians that early sought their seats in
the very front of the great convention hall at noon that day. When
Alabama was called for nominations she yielded to Indiana, and thus for
the first time Thomas Riley Marshall, then the nominee for governor in
Indiana and destined to the rare distinction of two elections to the
vice-presidency, appeared upon the platform and faced the Democracy of
the nation. He had only had a few minutes for reflection, as it was the
original intention that Mr. Lamb, whose voice was almost gone, to
present the name of Mr. Kern. As the small, wirey figure of the now
familiar national leader appeared, there seemed little probability that
he could impress the convention in that vast auditorium. There was no
doubt on the part of the Hoosiers. Nor was there any doubt on the part
of the convention after he had uttered his first sentence. This speech
pleased Kern.
In seconding the nomination of Kern, Governor Folk of Missouri described
him as a man who was fit to represent the platform and fight beside
Bryan. Martin J. Wade of Iowa described him as a “broad-gauged,
energetic, faithful, loyal Democrat.” Ollie James, speaking for
Kentucky, referred to him as “one of the gamest, knightliest and bravest
Democrats in the Union.” George Fred Williams of Massachusetts spoke of
him as “a man absolutely beyond any criticism, whose nomination will
arouse the undivided enthusiasm of all the Democrats of the nation.”
State after state rose to second the nomination of Kern as the
enthusiasm of the convention intensified, the loyal Hoosier delegation
voiceless from shouting long before the roll call was ended. The names
of others were presented, among them the name of Charles A. Towne, who
soon caught the drift of the convention and appeared upon the platform
and withdrew his name to the end that an acclamation nomination might be
made of “that able and worthy Democratic war horse of Indiana.” A
motion was soon thereafter made to that effect and Mr. Kern was
nominated without a ballot being taken.
II
While the convention was acting Mr. Kern sat alone in his room at the
Albany smoking. His first act on learning of his nomination when
enthusiastic Hoosier friends burst in upon him was to send a telegram to
his family at Indianapolis--“Have just now been nominated. God bless you
all.” Within a few minutes after the convention acted he began to pay
the penalty of the celebrity thrust upon him. The crowds flocked to his
room in such numbers that he was finally forced to make his escape to
Mr. Taggart’s room in the Brown Palace, but almost immediately afterward
his hiding place was discovered by Senator Gore and thereafter no
further effort was made to find a place of retirement. Among the first
telegrams that reached him was the one that meant more perhaps than any
other--from Mr. Bryan:
“LINCOLN, NEB., July 10.
“HON. JOHN W. KERN, DENVER, COLO.:
“Accept my warmest congratulations. Your nomination gratifies me
very much. We have a splendid platform and I am glad to have a
running mate in such complete harmony with the platform. Stop off
and see us on your way east.
“WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN.”
Addressing a delegation of returning Nebraskans soon afterwards, Mr.
Bryan said:
“I am sure that when people come to know John W. Kern as I have
known him for many years, they will believe, as I do, that he is in
perfect harmony with the platform, and can be trusted to carry out
that platform to the letter, if circumstances should place upon him
the responsibility for its enforcement.”
Into his retreat at the Brown Palace the crowds thronged. The newspaper
men with their cameras and note books appeared and the candidate, with
his customary amiability, submitted to being cross-examined as to the
most intimate details of his life. The _Denver Times_ was much impressed
because Kern did not “talk in the Hoosier dialect”--a puzzle that was
solved to its satisfaction by the discovery that his father was a
Virginian and he, as a boy, had lived in Iowa. Other papers solemnly
assured their readers that he was the original of “The Man From Home” of
Booth Tarkington’s creation. The nomination of Bryan having been a
foregone conclusion, the vice-presidential nominee became the chief
topic of conversation, and that night Kern was being discussed almost
exclusively by the politicians in hotel lobbies, cafés and upon the
streets. An interview on the nomination by as astute an observer as
Herbert Quick, of Iowa, gives as accurate an appraisement of the
atmosphere in which it was made as can be found. “The nomination of Mr.
Kern was widely favored,” he said, “in my section of the middle west
long before the convention. He is regarded as a man whose high character
and place of residence would add strength to the ticket. He will not be
regarded as an unknown or an accident. I watched the convention as it
nominated Kern and mingled in the groups engaged in the preliminary
discussions. No one was ever nominated in an atmosphere freer from
dickering and trading. The galleries were for Kern and the galleries
have a curious faculty of feeling the national pulse.”
He remained in Denver for a time so as to reach Lincoln just in time for
the meeting of the national committee at Fairview on July 14th, and
during the interval was kept busy conferring with party leaders and with
social engagements. I was with him on the train on the return trip as
far as Lincoln and had an opportunity to note the effect the new
celebrity had upon him. If anything, and if possible, he was even more
democratic, genuinely democratic, in his manner, and a trifle subdued,
as though he felt the responsibility that would fall to him in meeting
his share of the burdens of the campaign. The night his party left
Denver he stayed up late keeping his companions in mirthful mood with a
seemingly interminable string of stories gleaned from his own
experiences. It was on the train that he first had an opportunity to
read the Indianapolis papers and learn of the joy and jubilation of his
friends and neighbors of both parties and of the plans of his old Kokomo
friends to tender him a great reception. These things seemed to touch
him more than the honor of the nomination.
Again he reached Lincoln in the night, this time at three o’clock in the
morning, but this time he was met by a delegation of citizens and taken
to the hotel. Before he was up in the morning a large crowd was at the
hotel to greet him, and for a time, as the press put it, “the town went
Kern mad.”
About noon on the day of his arrival he went to Fairview on the car,
receiving ovations along the way, and he remained at the home of Mr.
Bryan through the afternoon meeting party leaders. During that
afternoon, too, in a campaign conference with Mr. Bryan, a plan was
determined upon that was destined to make the Bryan and Kern campaign of
1908 memorable and of vital importance to the nation regardless of the
result of the election, for it was then decided to pledge the party to
giving publicity to campaign contributions before the election, and to
limit the amount that could be subscribed by any one party.
On the following day when the members of the national committee had been
called to order at Fairview, Mr. Bryan, when called upon, referring to
Mr. Kern in the course of his brief speech, said:
“I desire to express ... my gratitude that a candidate for
vice-president has been selected who is not only a political friend
and a personal friend, but one in whom I have entire confidence
(applause). I do not know how I can better express my feeling on
the subject than to say that if I am elected president and Mr. Kern
is elected vice-president, I shall not be afraid to die, because I
shall feel that the policies outlined in the platform, which I
shall endeavor to put into operation, will be just as faithfully
carried out by him as they would be by me.” (Applause.)
Mr. Bryan then presented his history-making proposal which had been
discussed by him with Mr. Kern the previous afternoon:
“We suggest for your approval a maximum of $10,000 and a minimum of
$100, no contribution to be received above $10,000 and all
contributions above $100 to be made public before the election.
“We suggest, also, that on or before the 15th day of October,
publication shall be made of all contributions above $100 received
up to that date; that after the 15th of October publication shall
be made of such contributions on the day that the same are
received, and that no contribution above $100 shall be accepted
within three days of the election.
“With the hope that these suggestions may be favorably acted upon,
we are, with great respect, etc.,
“Yours truly,
“WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN,
“JOHN W. KERN.”
Thus the first act of Mr. Kern as a candidate was to affix his signature
to a proposal destined, after much controversy and sophisticated efforts
to escape, to be written into the law of the land. After Mr. Kern had
spoken briefly, a resolution embodying the ideas of the proposal was
submitted by Josephus Daniels of North Carolina and unanimously adopted.
History was made at Fairview that afternoon. An issue of such vital
moment was then made that it would not down. And the issue was all the
more direct because a Republican congress had just refused to enact a
publicity law, the Republican national convention had refused to
incorporate in its platform a provision for one, and the announcement of
the Fairview plan was at first ridiculed by the reactionary press of the
country. But the issue was so clear that it could not be scoffed from
the boards. Mr. Taft tried to meet it by reforming on his original
selection of a treasurer of his campaign committee, and that, failing to
satisfy the independent press, he tried to offset the Fairview program
with a proposal of publicity of contributions after the election. This
was so manifestly absurd that it failed utterly to satisfy,
notwithstanding President Roosevelt’s remarkable advocacy of the
proposal of Taft to lock the stable after the horse was stolen. The
impression made by the plan outlined at the conference between Bryan and
Kern at Fairview that afternoon was so pronounced that the popular
demand for a law of that character persisted, and finally under the
administration of Mr. Taft, who had opposed it, it was written into law
at the behest of an overwhelming public opinion. That incident alone,
aside from the platform, makes the Bryan-Kern campaign of 1908 one of
vital value to the institutions of America.
On the evening of the day of the adoption of this resolution, Mr. Kern
and his party turned their faces toward home--and here he was to partake
of the sweets of his triumph.
III
Mr. Kern knew, through the press, that his friends and neighbors were
taking the keenest delight in the honor that had been shown him. On the
night of the nomination great crowds of cheering men, headed by a band,
waving flags, burning red fire, and singing patriotic songs, had been
quickly improvised with the view to serenading the family of the
candidate. Stopping on the way to cheer in front of the Columbia club,
the Republican organization, and to
[Illustration:
JOHN H. KERN, JR. MRS. KERN WILLIAM C. KERN
]
serenade the newspapers, it had gone rollicking to the Kern residence,
where Mrs. Kern greeted the enthusiasts from the porch, and Judge Gavin
had responded in her behalf. Returning it paused at the home of
Vice-President Fairbanks, who appeared and briefly paid tribute to Kern
the man and neighbor. “There is no better man in the city of
Indianapolis or in the state of Indiana than John W. Kern,” he said, and
the crowd, with “three cheers for Fairbanks,” passed on to pause again
at the home of the venerable former Senator David Turpie, who was too
feeble to appear but sent assurances of his participation in the common
joy. The Indianapolis press, regardless of politics, editorially joined
in the general jubilation. Four years before when a similar reception
had been given Mr. Fairbanks, Mr. Kern had presided, and at that time
the former had predicted that he would one day serve as chairman of such
a meeting to greet Kern. The arrangements were made accordingly.
There was something in this reception so significant of the affection of
his fellow citizens, and something in Mr. Kern’s attitude toward it so
characteristic of the man that it deserves more than a mere reference.
When the train stopped to permit his party to alight at Capitol avenue
he was met by a delegation representing the civic bodies of the
community, a large crowd of citizens, and a band playing “When Johnny
Comes Marching Home Again,” Vice-President Fairbanks was the first to
grasp his hand. He was followed by Mayor Bookwalter, also a Republican,
and the two escorted the nominee to his carriage. The procession moved
through cheering crowds to where Mrs. Kern and the family were waiting
to receive him. As the home of the nominee was approached the streets
were packed, and houses of Democrats and Republicans alike were hung
with bunting and brightened with flags, while a streamer stretched
across the street announced a “Welcome by Your Neighbors.” As Mr. Kern,
bearing his two boys in his arms, ascended the steps of his home any one
who knew the heart of the man could appreciate the emotions with which
he faced his fellow citizens.
“Sometimes I can talk,” he said to the crowd, “but this is not one
of the times. On some other occasion I shall tell you all how glad
I am to see you, but for reasons that must be obvious to you all I
can not speak now.”
That evening it was the carriage of Vice-President Fairbanks that called
to convey Mr. Kern to the court house yard, where a platform had been
erected and where the formal home welcome was to be given. Here fully
15,000 people had assembled when Mr. Fairbanks assumed charge of the
meeting. In the course of a generous address the vice-president
referred to Kern’s “ability as a lawyer, eminence as an orator,
integrity as a man, uprightness as a neighbor, and admirable life within
the sacred circle of home.”
Seldom has a more remarkable ovation ever been accorded any man within
the confines of Indiana than that which greeted Mr. Kern when he rose to
speak. For eleven minutes the thousands cheered and shouted, and the
efforts of the recipient of the honor to still the tumult only seemed to
give it impetus. The speech of Mr. Kern on this occasion disclosed the
inner man.
“I am tired and somewhat travel worn to-night and I don’t know that
I can make myself heard to the uttermost limits of this vast
audience. I am sure that I can find no words which will in any
measure express the emotions of my heart upon this occasion.
“It is true, as has been said, a mark of distinction has been given
me by the national convention of my party, and to that convention
and the men it represents I am deeply grateful, but I am more
grateful to Almighty God for the friends He has given me in
Indianapolis, regardless of political affiliation. I would be very
much more or less than a man were I not deeply touched by this
manifestation of your personal friendship and confidence which I
have witnessed from the time I alighted at the station this
afternoon until the present hour. I may be defeated at the polls,
but if so that is not a killing matter, because I have become
accustomed to that; but if I should go down in defeat in November,
the memory of what has occurred here to-night will amply repay me
for whatever of toil may be my lot between now and then.
“And the fact of this great assemblage attesting your loyalty and
friendship to me I will bequeath to my children as a richer legacy
than any on the face of the earth or all of the wealth of the
world....
“How small is the man who will stop in campaign time, or any other
time, to quarrel with his neighbor, because that neighbor, in his
right of citizenship, differs from him as to the best method of
government. The true American feeling is manifest here to-night.
Our children must play together in the years to come, whether they
are Democrats or Republicans. They will inter-marry. They will rear
families. Their lots will be cast together; they will all be
interested alike in promoting the welfare, the honor and the glory
of this mighty republic, and this being so, why will we quarrel
because they can not agree?”
The _Indianapolis News_, politically antagonistic, editorially referred
to “Mr. Kern’s unusual gift of felicitous extemporaneous speech” in
commenting upon his “altogether admirable speech.” After a few days of
much needed rest spent with his family at the home, the nominee turned
to the preparation of briefs in supreme court cases during the next few
weeks, with occasional political journeys, and some non-partisan
addresses. Most enjoyable to him among the latter was his trip to Kokomo
to receive the non-partisan homage of his “home folks.” Here he was
forced to address a great throng from the hotel balcony before the
exercises in the evening at the theater, where Judge Harness, a
Republican, presided. Here he was greatly affected as he stood waiting
for the ovation to end while the band played “Auld Lang Syne.” And here,
too, he made a heart speech, unmarred by a partisan note. In the latter
part of July he attended a meeting of the national committee at Chicago
when Norman Mack was chosen for the national chairmanship, and here he
again conferred with Mr. Bryan. And on August 11 he was the guest of Mr.
Bryan at Fairview on the occasion of the latter’s notification. Here he
made a brief non-partisan address and conferred with the presidential
nominee and Mr. Mack. Another non-partisan address at Indianola, Iowa,
where he visited his mother’s grave, renewed boyhood friendships, and
revisited the scenes of childhood, and a political speech at Milwaukee
intervened before his formal notification at Indianapolis on August 25.
This was a great day in the history of the Hoosier Democracy. The
faithful gathered from the four quarters, for not only was the Indiana
leader, most beloved by the rank and file, to receive his formal
notification, but Mr. Bryan, the idol of the same element, was to
participate in the ceremonies. Indianapolis was thronged. The day was
ideal. In the morning before the exercises Mr. Bryan and Kern received
and conferred with party leaders from over the country, and met the
members of the national committee and the notification committee, and
all these sat down to a luncheon at the Denison hotel. The notification
was made in the enormous coliseum at the state fair grounds, which seats
20,000 people. Hundreds of automobiles bearing the politicians dashed
out Meridian street, and it required 500 street cars to carry the less
favored. When Bryan and Kern entered the immense auditorium each was
given an ovation from the vast audience. Theodore Bell, of California,
chairman of the notification committee, charmed with his eloquent
address of notification, and Mr. Kern, in accepting the nomination, took
up the challenge thrown down by James S. Sherman, his Republican
competitor, in his speech at Utica, N. Y., making a powerful
presentation of the Democratic case on the tariff, the trusts, and
popular government. That evening he and Mrs. Kern entertained the party
celebrities at dinner at the Country club, and the great day was over.
Mr. Kern was now the nominee for vice-president, and knew it.
IV
By the middle of September Mr. Kern’s itinerary had been made out by the
national committee and called for extensive campaigning, especially in
the east and south. There had been rumblings through the press of some
apathy in the southern states, and while there was no danger of losing
the electoral votes of this section, it was thought but the part of
deserved courtesy to send the vice-presidential nominee through the
south. The middle of September found him addressing a great throng at
the state fair at Louisville, where he carefully refrained from any
expression of a partisan nature; two days later he was in Chicago with
Mr. Bryan, and on the 19th he began his speaking tour of the south. This
took him first into Maryland. It was while here that the unfortunate
Haskell episode, which occasioned such concern and embarrassment to
leading Democrats, occurred. The charge that the treasurer of the
Democratic national committee had some sort of connections with the
Standard Oil Company, had been taken up by President Roosevelt with the
view to convincing the people of the insincerity, if not dishonesty, of
the Democratic candidates in the matter of campaign contributions. There
was enough fire to make much smoke with the careful handling of an
astute politician like Mr. Roosevelt using his high office as a base of
operations. The publicity-before-the-election policy of Bryan and Kern
was causing Mr. Taft and Mr. Roosevelt no end of trouble, and the
attempt of the former, strangely backed by the latter, to convince the
people that a program of publicity-after-the-election would do quite as
well was not making a favorable impression. Thus the Haskell incident
was worked to the limit of its possibilities. At Elliott City, Md., Mr.
Kern took notice of the president’s contribution to the campaign
concerning the Haskell matter, charging him with using it in an effort
to muddy the waters, and ridiculing his pretensions as a reformer. From
Maryland he was forced to jump to Mansfield, Ohio, to formally open the
campaign in that state with former Gov. James E. Campbell, where he
discussed the tariff and trusts and facetiously referred to the
Foraker-Taft-Roosevelt Kilkenny cat fight. Five days later he met his
opponent for the first time at the Auditorium Annex in Chicago. Learning
that Mr. Sherman was in the hotel, he expressed a desire to Senator
Smith, of Michigan, to meet him. The senator called the Republican
nominee from his room and the meeting took place in the lobby, to the
delight of the newspaper men. This was the beginning of a warm personal
friendship between two men whose political opinions were as divergent as
it was possible for them to be.
From Chicago Mr. Kern plunged into the south, making his first speeches
in Alabama. All the Kern meetings in the south were remarkable
demonstrations. His meeting at Birmingham was a huge success. On his way
from this industrial capital of Alabama to Atlanta he spoke for ten
minutes to the mill hands at Anniston. These were the men to whom he
made a strong appeal.
At Macon, Ga., when his train drew into the station he found a cheering
crowd to greet him and the meeting in the evening was one of the most
rousing he addressed during the campaign. Here he took occasion to reply
vigorously to the attacks of Mr. Bryan’s enemies on the ground that he
was “unsafe.”
His meeting at Asheville, N. C., in early October, was one of the
stirring old-fashioned sort, the greatest political meeting that had
been held there since 1896. A picturesque touch was given to this
demonstration by several hundred mountaineers riding into town from
miles around on mules. Here he was introduced by former Governor Glenn
and followed by the brilliant James Hamilton Lewis.
Having in two weeks spoken in Maryland, Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina
and South Carolina, he closed this part of his canvass, hoarse from a
cold and from over-use of the voice at a great meeting at Huntington, W.
Va., on October 10, and on the following day he reached his home in
Indianapolis.
Here a great trouble awaited him. John Kern, Jr., had been stricken with
that most distressing of maladies, infantile paralysis. During the next
three days the candidate spent every moment possible at the bedside of
his stricken boy, but the 14th of October found him engaged in strenuous
campaigning in New Jersey. In the afternoon he spoke to the business
men in Elizabeth, and at night to two remarkable meetings at Newark and
Jersey City. At the former meeting the meeting was preceded by an
old-fashioned parade with marching clubs, and the faithful in
automobiles, the streets aglare from the red lights carried by the
marchers, and by occasional bonfires along the streets. From Newark he
was hurried to Jersey City, where he was greeted with a great crowd at
Phœnix hall. It was at this latter meeting that he attacked the source
of some great fortunes. Referring to the comment of Judge Taft that one
way to reduce swollen fortunes would be for the possessors to give
generously, Kern said that “Judge Taft advocates the pillaging of the
people and trusting to the generosity of the pillager to pay back some
of the ill-gotten riches.”
On the following day the candidate spoke at Tammany Hall in New York
city, where his entrance was the signal for an ovation which was
repeated a moment later when Lieutenant-Governor Chandler, the nominee
for governor, ascended the platform and clasped the hand of the
vice-presidential nominee. Mr. Kern’s speech here in the great financial
center of the country was significant of his unwillingness to in any way
compromise on his progressive principles for the possible effect in New
York city.
In all his speeches on his eastern tour Mr. Kern made a special plea to
the laboring classes, for upon these he predicated his sole hope of
carrying New York, New Jersey or Connecticut. At Bridgeport, Conn., he
addressed his remarks exclusively to these.
On the 19th of October he went to Utica, the home city of Mr. Sherman,
his Republican opponent. Here, to his surprise, he was given one of the
most remarkable welcomes of his tour. Knowing of Mr. Sherman’s wonderful
hold on the affections of his fellow citizens he was startled at the
warmth of the greeting until he learned that his opponent had wired a
request to his own followers to join in the general welcome. As he
stepped upon the platform to face a great audience he was handed a
personal telegram of welcome from Sherman, then touring the west. This
was a touch that Kern could appreciate, for it smacked of himself, and
his opening remarks were in a happy vein as he referred to the incident.
His speech here was an attack upon the great trusts and on swollen
fortunes made possible by special legislation. It was here he said that
“the spending on one dinner by the ultra-rich of sufficient to feed a
million starving men is doing more to foster socialism and anarchism
than all the socialistic and anarchistic propaganda.”
If Utica was to be remembered by him as the scene of a pleasing act of
chivalric courtesy, it was also to be associated with the most painful
shock of the campaign. It was here that a telegram reached him
announcing the serious condition of young John and summoning him to the
bedside. He immediately canceled all engagements and left for
Indianapolis. Reaching home in the early morning, worn with fatigue of
travel and speaking, he took up his vigil by the sick boy’s bed,
scarcely leaving his side. The next few days found the vice-presidential
nominee in the sick room. On October 26th he arranged to keep in
constant touch with his home, and left for a week of strenuous
campaigning in Indiana. By using steam train, interurbans and
automobiles he was able to cover the state from the river to the lake
making many speeches each day. On the Friday night before the election
he spoke to the people of Indianapolis at a great meeting at Tomlinson
hall. During the days immediately preceding Andrew Carnegie had gravely
announced his adherence to the cause of Taft and Protection, and this
announcement, which was unnecessary, was followed by one equally
unnecessary from John D. Rockefeller to the same effect. These
announcements appealed to Mr. Kern’s sense of humor, and he discussed
them with biting sarcasm.
Mr. Kern’s close of his Indiana campaign at Evansville on Saturday night
was not to mark the end of his labors. On the insistence of the national
committee he was hurried into northern Ohio for a number of speeches on
the day before the election, and after a meteoric rush through numerous
towns he spoke his last word at night at an important meeting at Toledo.
But as he turned toward home that night it was not of the battle of
ballots on the morrow that he was thinking.
V
It was a sad group that gathered in the Kern library the night of the
election. The returns were not the cause nor did they create much
interest for the immediate family, which was alone; they were more
intent on the news that the doctors and nurse were bringing from the
room above where John, Jr., was fighting what then seemed to be a
hopeless battle. He was not expected to live through the night. The fact
that the little warrior’s mind was keen and alert that night only added
a poignancy to the pathos. He won his battle; and on the morning after
when Mrs. Kern entered the room the little fellow looked up anxiously:
“Mother, was father elected?”
Mrs. Kern hesitated a moment and then told the truth:
“No, John, your father was defeated.”
The boy closed his eyes tight and with the bitterness of childhood
exclaimed:
“Uh! What fools the people of the United States are to turn down such a
man as father.”
Later on, when the boy was on the road to ultimate recovery, this
remark, rather pathetic at the time, took on a humorous side; and when
two years later Vice-President Sherman was in Indianapolis and called at
the Kern home the story was told for his amusement. To the surprise of
every one the amusing feature of the story did not appeal to him. His
eyes filled up, and tenderly placing his hand on the head of the boy,
still crippled, he said gravely:
“My boy, the more I have seen of your father and the better I know him
the more I am inclined to think you were right.”
This incident, so expressive of the sweetness and tenderness of Mr.
Sherman, added to many other manifestations of his chivalry, endeared
him to Mr. Kern. While no two men could possibly have differed more
widely on almost every phase of public policy, a personal affection
sprang up between them which lasted through the life of both. During the
campaign the chivalry of Mr. Sherman was not confined to urging his
supporters to give his opponent a royal welcome to Utica, nor to the
personal telegram of greeting that was handed Mr. Kern that night on the
platform. When the announcement went out from that city that the
Democratic nominee had been summoned home by the serious illness of his
boy, he had scarcely turned homeward when another telegram reached him
from Mr. Sherman expressing his sympathy in tenderest phrasing. And when
during the last week of the campaign a vicious personal attack was made
on Kern by a New York paper, even before he had heard of it, his
Republican opponent wired him of his personal disgust. When two years
later Mr. Kern entered the Senate and had been sworn in, before he could
reach his seat a page overtook him with a request from the
vice-president for him to take the chair. And these instances of the
beautiful chivalry of “Jim” Sherman might be multiplied. When the
vice-president died Mr. Kern was one of the senators chosen to pay
tribute to his memory at the impressive services in the Senate chamber
attended by the president and his cabinet, the justices of the supreme
court, the members of the House, and the diplomatic corps. The address
he made on this occasion is the only one he delivered during his
senatorial career in which he took special pride. He put his heart into
it, for, like so many others who differed with him radically in
politics, he had learned to love the man who defeated him for the
vice-presidency in 1908.