CHAPTER XIII

KERN’S POSITION AT THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION

Senator Kern had not completely recovered from the strain of the Lorimer

case when he found himself unexpectedly precipitated into the maelstrom

of the Democratic National Convention at Baltimore, unquestionably the

most remarkable assembly of the representatives of any party ever held

in America. There have been many versions of his part in the important

features of the convention, but the strange thing is that there has been

such a general ignorance of the fact that he was in truth one of the

potential figures in that great drama. It is known to all, of course,

that he was the chairman of the committee on Resolutions and Mr. Bryan’s

candidate for the temporary chairmanship, but the circumstances under

which he became the candidate, the importance of his strategy in that

contest, and the fact that but for his dissent his name would have been

presented as a presidential candidate at a time when the convention

seemed hopelessly deadlocked and with the support of a number of the

most potential states, have never figured in the public’s estimate of

his rôle. It is the intention here to relate this story as fully as

possible without unpleasantly affecting

[Illustration: SENATOR KERN WITH HIS FIRST GRANDCHILD, GEORGE B. LAWSON,

JR., AND JULIA KERN LAWSON]

several prominent politicians who are still upon the scene.

I

On the Saturday before the Baltimore convention met Senator Kern, who

had gone to Kerncliffe for a much-needed rest, returned to Washington in

comparative ignorance of the developments in the convention city. The

news that awaited his return was not of a pleasant nature.

The more important news he learned that hot afternoon as he sat in front

of the Congress Hall Hotel was that the National Committee had selected

Alton B. Parker of New York for the temporary chairmanship to deliver

the keynote speech and that this had been challenged by Mr. Bryan, who

had made it quite clear that he would fight. At that time he had no idea

that he would be called upon to play any part in the contest other than

to cast his individual vote in the convention. But there were various

embarrassing angles to the situation thus presented. Many years before

he had formed a personal friendship for Judge Parker and this friendship

had grown with the years. The National Committeeman from Indiana had

voted for Parker, which complicated the situation from the viewpoint of

state politics. He entertained a momentary fear that the prospective

fight might tend to the disruption of the party and the destruction of

its prospects. But at the same time he understood perfectly the motives

actuating Mr. Bryan and sympathized with them. With some forces known to

be reactionary, lining up aggressively behind a man thought by the

masses of the party west of the eastern mountains to be reactionary in

his trend of thought, and with Mr. Bryan sounding the warning that the

selection of that man for the temporary chairmanship would be a triumph

for reaction, Senator Kern instantly knew his position in the fight. It

was not a pleasant one; it came to be a far more important one than is

generally known.

The National Committee had entrusted a sub-committee of eight to select

the temporary chairman and this committee first proffered the position

to Mr. Bryan, who declined, and then to Senator Kern, who refused to

serve. It was the suggestion of both Mr. Bryan and Senator Kern that a

thoroughly progressive Democrat, nationally known as such, should be

chosen. The forces of Champ Clark had a candidate who measured up to the

desired standard in Ollie James of Kentucky, then a member of the house,

and the Wilson forces favored the election of Robert L. Henry, a

representative from Texas, who also harmonized with Mr. Bryan’s idea of

a temporary chairman. When the sub-committee met eight of the sixteen

voted for Parker, three for James, three for Henry, one for Kern and one

for O’Gorman. The one vote cast for Senator Kern was not the vote of

the Indiana member, Mr. Taggart. The Indiana member did not vote for

Kern because the senator had written him personally that he did not

desire the position.

With this vote the fight passed to the full membership of the National

Committee, and Bryan with a vigorous pen began a determined warfare

through the press against the choice of the sub-committee. Realizing the

importance of the issue, the Wilson followers, in view of Mr. Wilson’s

telegram to Bryan accepting the latter’s view of the selection of

Parker, withdrew the candidacy of Henry and went over to James. On the

afternoon of the day before the full committee met in the evening, Bryan

declared through the press that in the event the organization

recommended Parker he would oppose him on the floor of the convention

with another candidate. The issue was clean-cut. That night the full

committee selected Parker by a vote of 32 to 20 for James and 2 for

O’Gorman. The fight was on.

Mr. Bryan did not want to be the candidate against Parker. It was his

plan to serve notice on the rank and file of the party throughout the

country of the reactionary trend of the convention through a powerful

speech he expected to make in presenting the name of his candidate. This

he could not do were he himself the candidate. His first step was to

ask Ollie James to permit the presentation of his name, but having been

the avowed candidate before the committee of the Clark forces, the

managers of the speaker of the house objected to James being a

candidate. He then appealed to Senator O’Gorman, but found that he was

pledged to Parker. Then it was he determined upon presenting the name of

Senator Kern.

There were several reasons bearing on state politics which made the

suggestion distasteful to Kern. He was interested in the nomination of

Governor Marshall for the presidency, and the reasons which impelled the

Clark forces to object to the candidacy of James made the idea

unpleasant to the Indiana senator. All the various reasons were given

Bryan in an effort to dissuade him from his plan to nominate Kern, but

without effect. Meanwhile many of the senator’s friends became concerned

over the proposal. While it did not operate in determining Kern’s state

of mind, some of these friends, anticipating the long deadlock which

occurred in the balloting for the presidency were convinced that should

the convention be forced to go outside the list of avowed candidates no

one would loom so promisingly as the Indiana senator, and they were

anxious to prevent his prominence in connection with a fight. The strain

told physically upon Kern. Many of his friends, and notably Senator Luke

Lea of Tennessee, made frequent efforts to persuade the Nebraskan to

nominate some other man. Mr. Kern himself had but little hope of their

success. The night before the convention met while dining with Lea he

made this clear. The Tennesseean made another trip to Bryan’s room and

brought back the message that the latter had closed the subject with the

remark, “I intend to nominate John to-morrow, and he will have to do

what he thinks best about it.” It was after this that Kern himself made

a last attempt. “He left my room,” writes Mr. Bryan to me, “late the

night before the convention without a positive reply. He urged me to be

a candidate, but did not decide the question whether he would accept.

Next morning I heard a rumor that he might put me in nomination, but I

had explained to him that I wanted to present to the convention the

reasons why Parker should not be nominated and that I could only do that

in a speech presenting the name of some one else. Not hearing directly

from Kern, I presented his name and then he played his part, and it was

a very skilful part.”

For the story of Senator Kern’s part between the time he left Mr.

Bryan’s room late that night and the following morning I am indebted to

Mrs. Kern, who was at the convention. He went directly to his own room

and told Mrs. Kern everything that had transpired. He was so worried

that he slept none that night, and his nervous condition brought on an

illness that made sleep impossible. It was during that restless night

that he planned his part on the morrow, and the first person to learn of

his plans was Mrs. Kern, to whom he detailed his purpose early in the

morning as he was sitting on the edge of his bed drawing on his shoes.

With this exception he gave no indication of his intention. Contrary to

the general assumption at the time that the scene in the convention that

day had been planned by Mr. Bryan, the Commoner knew absolutely nothing

about it until he witnessed it on the platform. “The plan was his own so

far as I know,” Mr. Bryan tells me, “and no actor ever did his work more

perfectly.”

Looking down from the gallery upon the convention that day one could

easily imagine a storm-tossed sea. The excitement was intense. Great

throngs futilely beat against the doors for admission. The day was

intensely warm. The session was rich in the dramatic from the moment the

venerable Cardinal Gibbons in his scarlet robes passed down the center

aisle for the opening invocation until the result of the chairmanship

fight was announced. The feeling on the part of Bryan’s enemies among

the delegates had been intensified during the night, and there was some

concern among the conservative and thoughtful lest the Commoner might be

insulted so flagrantly as to result in a general resentment over the

country.

When the familiar figure of the Commoner appeared in the convention he

was given a remarkable ovation, and when a little later Senator Kern

entered Bryan was given another demonstration. These exhibitions of

devotion did not tend to sweeten the temper of his enemies, and when he

appeared upon the platform to deliver his speech the hiss was not absent

from the general turmoil. Seldom has the great orator appeared so

majestic as he did in this fighting speech. There was something

strangely hard, steel-like, in the man that those who had heard him

frequently on less momentous occasions could not recognize. A more

militant figure never faced a hostile crowd--and there were enough

enemies in the convention to give it the appearance of hostility. Time

and again he was compelled to pause by the hisses and imprecations, but

he stood there immovable like a stonewall waiting for the storm to

subside sufficiently for him to make his voice heard above the din. That

speech made history--more so than the Cross of Gold speech in 1896. With

the general purport of the speech we are not here concerned, for it is

well known. But we are interested that in that portion of the speech

having to do directly with Senator Kern. Here he said:

“It is only fair now that, when the hour of triumph has come, the

song of victory should be sung by one whose heart has been in the

fight. John W. Kern has been faithful every day during these

sixteen years. It has cost him time, it has cost him money, and it

has cost him the wear of body and of mind. He has been giving

freely of all that he had. Four years ago, when the foundation was

laid for the present victory, it was John W. Kern who stood with me

and helped to bring into the campaign the idea of publicity before

the election which has now swept the country until even the

Republican party was compelled by public opinion to give it

unanimous indorsement only a few weeks ago.

“It was John W. Kern who stood with me on that Denver platform that

demanded the election of senators by a direct vote of the people,

when a Republican national convention had turned it down by a vote

of seven to one, and now he is in the United States senate, where

he is measuring up to the high expectations of a great party.

“He helped in the fight for the amendment authorizing an income

tax, and he has lived to see a president who was opposed to us take

that plank out of our platform and put it through the house and

senate and to see thirty-four states of the union ratify it. And

now he is leading the fight in the United States senate to purge

that body of Senator Lorimer, who typifies the supremacy of

corruption in politics.

“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?

“My fellow Democrats, you will not promote harmony, you will not

point the way to victory, by jeering or deriding the name of the

man who led your fortunes in 1908. You may put him to the wheel,

you may humiliate him here, but in so doing you will bring pain to

the hearts of six million men in America who would gladly die for

him. You may kill him, but you do not commit homicide when you kill

him; you commit suicide.

“My friends, I have submitted a proposition to Judge Parker; I

submit it to the man, the leader of the New York Democracy who

holds that Democracy in the hollow of his hand. What response have

I? (A pause.) If there is to be no response, then let the

responsibility rest where it belongs. If Alton B. Parker will come

here now and join me in this request for harmony, his will be the

most honored of all the names amongst American Democrats.

“If there is to be no response, if the responsibility is to rest

there, if this is to be a contest between the people and the

powers, if it is to be a contest such as has been described, a

contest which I pray God may be averted, then the cause to which I

belong is so great a cause that I am not fit to be its leader. If

my proposition for harmony is to be ignored, and this deplorable

battle is to go on, there is only one man fit to lead the hosts of

progress, and that is the man who has been at the forefront for

sixteen years, the great American tribune, William Jennings Bryan.

If you will have nothing else, if that must be the issue, then the

leader must be worthy of the cause, and that leader must be William

Jennings Bryan.”

As Kern concluded, weak from a sleepless night and an enervating

ailment, a friend took him by the arm and led him, “ashen hued and

sick,” as the press reports described his appearance, from the stage. He

passed within arm’s reach of Bryan, but not a word was exchanged

between the two, nor even a look. The move Kern made was as much of a

surprise to Bryan as to Parker. It was not a prearranged affair. There

was no sharp practice in it. But it was an earnest effort of a loyal

Democrat to pour oil upon the troubled waters and prevent a battle

between members of the same army. As he spoke the expression on Bryan’s

face clearly denoted his surprise. As he proceeded the expression of

surprised anxiety gradually gave way to one of satisfaction and then to

frank admiration. And when he was led from the stage, the Commoner in a

dramatic manner accepted the commission which had been handed back to

him. Had Bryan been a candidate originally the progressives of the

country would not have had the warning of the reactionary plot. Had Kern

remained silent and permitted the convention to vote between himself and

Judge Parker without first submitting his series of compromise

proposals, any of which should have been acceptable, the country might

not have understood that there was a “rule or ruin” policy behind the

men who presented Parker’s name. Thus Kern’s speech was quite as

effective and important as that of Bryan.

Still it was not Senator Kern’s purpose to embarrass Judge Parker, in

whose personal devotion to the party he had the most perfect confidence.

He did entertain the hope that the New York jurist would meet him on

the ground of a general conciliation. But when it became apparent that

Parker was so situated that he could not respond to what must have been

his natural impulse, and Kern made his appeal to Charles F. Murphy it

was not so much with the thought that he might accept as with the

intention to placing the responsibility and giving it “a local

habitation and a name.”

Among Kern’s enemies there was a disposition to disseminate the idea

that his action had compromised his personal popularity. Nothing could

have been farther from the fact. The United Press on the following day

properly gauged the effect when it said that “Kern’s efforts to obtain

harmony in his personal appeal to Parker to withdraw in the interest of

the party has added to his popularity among the men who championed

Parker’s cause.”

That night he saw Bryan for the first time after the late parting of the

night before. Accompanied by Mrs. Kern he called at Bryan’s rooms, where

he found the Commoner in the center of his reception room surrounded by

a crowd. Catching sight of the senator, Bryan broke through the crowd,

his face wreathed in the Bryanic smile, and placing his arm

affectionately about Kern’s shoulders, he said delightedly:

“How did you ever come to think of it? That was the smartest thing you

ever did.”

Mr. Bryan publicly expressed his view of the performance in his

newspaper article of the next morning:

“I think the reader, when he has fully digested this scheme

(Kern’s) will admit that it is about as good an illustration as has

been seen in many a day of the manner in which tact and patriotism

can be combined. After I had put Senator Kern in nomination against

Parker, he took the platform and made a most forcible and eloquent

plea for harmony in the convention. He called attention to the

great issues involved and to the importance of presenting a united

front. He then presented a list of names.... He called upon Parker,

who sat just in front of him, to join him in withdrawing in favor

of any one of these men in order that the convention might operate

without discord. It was a dramatic moment. Such an opportunity

seldom comes to a man. If Parker had accepted it it would have made

him the hero of the convention. There was a stir in his

neighborhood in a moment. The bosses flocked about him, and the

convention looked on in breathless anxiety, but he did not

withdraw. The opportunity passed unimproved. Senator Kern then

appealed to Mr. Murphy to induce Judge Parker to withdraw, but Mr.

Murphy was not in a compromising mood. This was the only thing that

Senator Kern did, the good faith of which could be questioned. I am

afraid that he had no great expectation of melting the stony heart

of the Tammany boss. At any rate nothing came of the generous offer

made by Mr. Kern except that it shifted to the shoulders of Judge

Parker and his supporters entire responsibility for any discord

that might grow out of the contest.”

Such is the true story of Kern’s part in the great fight over the

temporary chairmanship which did more to determine the progressive trend

of the convention than everything else combined. The defeat of Bryan by

a small margin aroused the rank and file of the party everywhere, and

the wires to Baltimore were burdened with thousands of indignant

telegrams of protest which made a profound impression upon the delegates

and made quite impossible a repetition of such a fight, on such an

issue, and with such a result.

II

After the country had been heard from there was a general disposition to

give the progressives the right of way. Ollie James was made permanent

chairman. And Senator Kern was made chairman of the committee on

Resolutions.

When the committee on Resolutions met there was a desire to make Mr.

Bryan its chairman, but he refused to serve in that capacity, desiring a

freer hand to dealing with the convention than would be compatible with

presiding over the deliberations of the committee. It is significant of

Senator Kern’s position in the party at that hour that with Bryan’s

declination the committee turned instantly to him. Partly because of his

physical condition he at first declined, but was finally prevailed upon

to accept. The United Press gave the true reason for his unanimous

selection when it said that “Senator Kern was turned to at once as

representing the progressive Democracy.” It has always been customary

for the committee to report after the nomination of a candidate for

president, but immediately after its organization Mr. Bryan offered a

resolution providing for a report on the platform before the nomination,

and urging as a reason that no man should be nominated who did not

square with the platform of the party. There was some dissent, but the

resolution was passed, and the grind of work began at once and was

incessant until completed. Without detracting from the importance of

numerous members of the committee it is unquestionably true that the

three men who exercised more influence perhaps than any others were

Bryan, Senator O’Gorman and Senator Kern.

The platform agreed upon was one of the most progressive on which any

candidate of any party ever ran and was in complete accord with the

views of its chairman. Senator Kern read the resolutions to the

convention and moved their adoption, and they were accepted without a

contest of any character.

III

It is but proper that Senator Kern’s relation to the presidential

nomination should be disclosed, for his was the name that hovered over

the convention constantly as the most probable compromise selection in

the event of a hopeless deadlock. Because of the persistency of the

“Kern talk” there has been from hostile quarters a tendency to question

his loyalty to the candidacy of Governor Marshall; and during the

prevalence of the talk _The New York World’s_ convention correspondent

attempted to create the impression that the reactionary forces were

working quietly for the nomination of the man who next to Bryan did more

to force the convention into progressive channels than any man in it.

Senator Kern was as loyal as it was possible for man to be to the

candidacy of the Indiana governor. He felt that Mr. Marshall had many

elements of strength and looked upon him as a possible compromise

between the two leading candidates in the event of a deadlock. Under

these circumstances he frowned down any suggestion of his own name as

calculated to weaken the prospects of Indiana’s candidate by casting

suspicion upon the sincerity of Indiana’s support. I had personal

evidence of this of the most positive character.

Several months before the convention, as the number of candidates

multiplied and the possibility of complications developed, a number of

prominent politicians of a Pacific coast state wrote Senator Kern

expressing a desire to launch his candidacy in that state, and to follow

it immediately with the organization of “Kern for President” clubs.

Assuming of course that a letter of such importance should be answered

personally, I placed the letter in his hands. He was seated at his desk

writing, and, as usual, smoking. He read it through carefully, a puzzled

expression on his face, and then with a quizzical smile he handed it

back.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” he was asked.

By this time he had resumed his writing.

“No--you acknowledge it,” he said, still writing.

“What shall I say?”

“Say that I am not and will not be a candidate; that Indiana has a

candidate and one that would give a good account of himself.” That is

the kind of letter, not even bearing Kern’s signature, that went back to

men of real political potentiality on the Pacific coast. After that many

other people in different parts of the country outside Indiana wrote

along the same line. These letters were always shown Kern, but with the

exception of the first one not one of these was read through to the end,

and in every case a letter similar in character to the one he ordered

written in the first instance was sent. After a while he was clearly

annoyed and disturbed by the suggestion these letters conveyed. He

simply ignored them, refused to seriously consider them, and evidently

preferred not to see them.

In Indiana he had many importunate friends who insisted on making him a

candidate against his will, and with these he dealt directly and always

with the stern injunction that they do absolutely nothing that could

possibly create the impression outside the state that there was any

divided opinion in the state regarding the position the state should

take on the presidency.

This dangling of a possible prize before him was carried to the

convention on the day it met and was never permitted out of his range of

vision up to the very day that Woodrow Wilson was nominated. Mr. Bryan

tells me that one of the reasons given him by Kern for his opposition to

being nominated for the temporary chairmanship was the fact that “he was

embarrassed by the fact that he was being mentioned for the presidency

by men in other delegations” and such prominence as might follow his

nomination for the chairmanship might be falsely interpreted as a bid

for the prize. On the second day of the convention the Associated Press

carried the story that many astute politicians had reached the

conclusion that under the two-thirds rule of Democratic conventions none

of the avowed candidates could be nominated and that “some of the

progressives” had commenced to “test sentiment for Kern” and that the

movement had “gained considerable momentum.” On that day it was a

commonplace comment about the hotel lobbies that the nominee “would be

Wilson or Kern.” And on that day men of much political importance in

other states than Indiana began to interest themselves in “testing

sentiment for Kern.” The theory of these men was that when the

“conservatives” found they could not nominate Clark or Harmon, and the

“progressives” learned they could not nominate Wilson, both elements

would find in Kern the satisfactory way out. And during that time Kern

was importuned, and harassed, every hour of the day, dragged from the

Resolutions committee to meet delegates anxious to vote for him,

followed to his room at night. When the movement reached such

proportions as to seem serious he took the position that as long as

there was any possibility of the nomination of any of the avowed

candidates, and as long as there was any chance of a compromise on

Marshall his name should not under any circumstances appear in the

balloting.

Long before the various candidates had been formally presented to the

convention it required no extraordinary perspicacity on the part of

veterans of national conventions to see that none of the avowed

candidates could or would be nominated without prolonged balloting, and

that there was a strong possibility of a hopeless deadlock. It did not

require many ballots to justify the fear. In the resulting discussion of

a compromise candidate or “dark horse” no name appeared with such

frequency as that of Kern. Although he was constantly holding his

friends in check this did not spare him from the suspicion of some and

the open criticism of others. _The New York World_ sounded a “note of

warning” in a direct charge that “the reactionaries of the convention”

were planning to throw the nomination to Senator Kern to prevent it from

going to Wilson. The absurdity of the assumption that “reactionaries”

would be interested in the nomination of the progressive leader of

Indiana, who had been intimately identified with the reform measures of

Mr. Bryan was not explained. The truth is that the men who were drawn to

the Kern solution of a deadlock were found among members of both wings

of the party. But the men who gave the movement impetus in the beginning

and remained throughout the most faithful to it were progressives of the

most militant stripe. Among them were men whose first choice were

Wilson, Clark, Harmon and Marshall. The Underwood forces alone

contributed no support to the movement. The most active and aggressive

sponsor of the Kern compromise idea in the event the deadlock continued

long enough to engender bitterness was Senator Luke Lea of Tennessee,

whose first choice was Wilson.

The name of Kern appeared for the first time in the balloting on the

third ballot when a delegate from Ohio went to him. After that there was

scarcely a ballot in which he did not appear usually with one vote,

frequently with two and sometimes with more. This was only significant

in that it kept his name constantly before the convention as a way out.

On June 29th, three days before the nomination of Wilson, the Associated

Press carried the story of the “dark horse” talk and said that “the

names of Kern and Gaynor are most frequently mentioned;” and on the same

day the United Press announced that Kern would not be a candidate until

it had been clearly demonstrated that Wilson, Clark or Marshall could

not be nominated, and that Indiana would then lead the way, to be

followed by Illinois.

During these days no man did more to hold the Indiana delegation

together for Marshall than Senator Kern. When on the 29th ballot Major

G. V. Menzies of Indiana broke the solidarity of the delegation by

voting for Kern no man resented it more than the senator, who was more

embarrassed than flattered. To all Indianians who called upon him at his

room with the suggestion that the “time has come to break from

Marshall”--and there were many both on and off the delegation--he

stubbornly refused to listen. The thought behind his uncompromising

attitude was that once the delegation broke away from its instructions

there was no certainty that the majority would not ultimately find their

way into the camp of ultra-conservativism.

Meanwhile he was given to understand that Illinois was ready at any

moment Indiana led the way to transfer her vote to him, and he had good

reasons for assuming that with his consent he could have the support of

Ohio. In the event such a “drive” had been undertaken, assurances were

given by men of potentiality that Michigan would follow and that far

western states such as Colorado and Wyoming would fall in line. It was a

tremendous temptation that was placed before him, and the very

incongruity of the company urging it--progressives and bosses--would

have made it seem to one less astute and less given to analysis as

peculiarly auspicious. The feeling between the followers of the two

leading candidates was hourly intensifying. The delegates were tired,

and many financially embarrassed by the unexpected prolongation of the

convention and were anxious to get away. If at such an hour and under

such circumstances three such states as Indiana, Illinois and Ohio had

bolted toward a dark horse, followed by Michigan and states from the far

west and from the south, it might have resulted in a stampede and his

nomination. It was Kern’s personal opinion that it might result in

throwing the convention into a turmoil of uncertainty out of which

would come the nomination of a reactionary; and such he believed to be

the intent of some who were most insistent on his giving consent. He

refused his consent.

At no time did Mr. Bryan give any encouragement to those who tried to

interest him in Kern as a compromise candidate. This led to the silly

story that the two former running mates had cooled toward one anther

because “Kern had not warmed up to Bryan’s convention propositions.” It

was immediately after this story became current, at a time when there

was much speculation as to whether the convention would be compelled to

adjourn without making a nomination, that Mr. Bryan, in an interview

suggesting possible compromise candidates, named Kern, Ollie James,

Senator O’Gorman and Senator Culbertson as a list from which a selection

might be made. The fact that Kern was first in the list was immediately

seized upon as evidence of Bryan’s partiality to his nomination, and

that same day bets were offered that he would be nominated. Speaking of

Kern, Mr. Bryan said:

“Senator Kern of Indiana already has received the support of nearly

six million and a half of Democrats for the vice-presidency, and

since that time he not only has been elected to the United States

senate, but has distinguished himself among his associates by the

prominent part he has taken. He is the leader of the fight against

Senator Lorimer. If there can be no agreement upon any of those now

being balloted for it ought to be easy to compromise on a man like

Senator Kern.”

Then the drift toward Wilson began with the action of Bryan in

withdrawing his vote from Clark because of the action of Tammany in

throwing him its support and casting it for the New Jersey governor. It

was the beginning of the end. On the day following the action of Bryan

Senator Kern in a statement given to _The Indianapolis News_

correspondent declared that the Indiana delegation was “first, last and

all the time for Governor Marshall and had no second choice,” but added

that the second choice of the people of Indiana was probably Wilson.

From this time on the probability of a “dark horse” dwindled and the

convention hurried to the conclusion of its work with the nomination of

the ticket of Wilson and Marshall.

No single man with the probable exception of Bryan was more instrumental

in the general result of the Baltimore convention than John W. Kern.

His dramatic action in the chairmanship fight had done more than any

other one thing could to throw the burden of responsibility for the

contest upon the reactionaries; his work on the committee on Resolutions

made for progressivism; and his refusal under great pressure to permit

the use of his name in the convention for the purpose of breaking away

from the avowed candidates probably made the nomination of Wilson

possible; and the support given the candidacy of Governor Marshall by

the delegation of a doubtful state like Indiana no doubt made his

selection for the vice-presidency logical and inevitable.

But the emotional conflicts through which he passed during those

steaming days left him in a state of physical exhaustion from which he

did not recover during the summer.

The life of John Worth Kern · 第 13 / 21 章