CHAPTER XXIV

THE ADAMSON LAW

Between the Democratic Convention and the time of his departure for his

summer home at Long Branch, New Jersey, the President was engaged in

Washington in completing the most important items of his legislative

programme, including the Income Tax, Child Labour Law, and the Adamson

Eight-Hour Law.

A disastrous strike, involving the whole system of railroad

transportation, now seemed imminent. At this critical juncture the

President intervened. On August 13th he invited the disputants, before

reaching any final decision, to confer with him personally at Washington.

His intervention evoked general expressions of relief and approval.

At these conferences the railway men stood firm for an eight-hour day. The

railway managers refused these demands. How to meet this grave situation,

which if not checked might have resulted in giving Germany a victory, was

one of the pressing problems that confronted the President that critical

summer. Not only were American business interests involved in this matter,

but the Allied governments of western Europe, then in the throes of the

great war, were no less anxious, for a railroad strike would have meant a

cutting off of the supplies to the Allied forces that were so much needed

at this important juncture.

The President sent for the Brotherhood representatives and for the

managers, to confer with him at the White House, and suggested arbitration

by way of settling the controversy. The labour leaders, conscious of their

strength, refused to arbitrate. The railroad managers were equally

obdurate. I well remember the patience of the President at these

conferences day after day. He would first hold conferences with the

Brotherhood representatives and then with the railroad managers; but his

efforts were unavailing. It is regrettable that the men on both sides were

indifferent to the President's appeal and apparently unmindful of the

consequences to the country that would inevitably follow a nation-wide

strike.

I remember what he said to me as he left the Green Room at the conclusion

of his final conference with the heads of the Brotherhoods. Shaking his

head in a despairing way, he said: "I was not able to make the slightest

impression upon those men. They feel so strongly the justice of their

cause that they are blind to all the consequences of their action in

declaring and prosecuting a strike. I was shocked to find a peculiar

stiffness and hardness about these men. When I pictured to them the

distress of our people in case this strike became a reality, they sat

unmoved and apparently indifferent to the seriousness of the whole bad

business. I am at the end of my tether, and I do not know what further to

do."

His conferences with the managers were equally unproductive of result.

Gathered about him in a semicircle in his office, they were grim and

determined men, some of them even resentful of the President's attempt to

suggest a settlement of any kind to prevent the strike. I shall never

forget his last appeal to them. I sat in a little room off the Cabinet

room and could hear what went on. Seated about him were the heads of all

the important railroads in the country. Looking straight at them, he said:

"I have not summoned you to Washington as President of the United States

to confer with me on this matter, for I have no power to do so. I have

invited you merely as a fellow-citizen to discuss this great and critical

situation. Frankly, I say to you that if I had the power as President I

would say to you that this strike is unthinkable and must not be permitted

to happen. What I want you to see, if you will, is the whole picture that

presents itself to me and visualize the terrible consequences to the

country and its people of a nation-wide strike at this time, both as

affecting our own people and in its effect upon the Allied forces across

the sea. For a moment I wish you to forget that I am President, and let us

as fellow-citizens consider the consequences of such action. A nation-wide

strike at this time would mean absolute famine and starvation for the

people of America. You gentlemen must understand just what this means.

Will your interests be served by the passions and hatreds that will flow

from such an unhappy condition in the country? If this strike should

occur, forces will be released that may threaten the security of

everything we hold dear. Think of its effect upon the people of this

country who must have bread to eat and coal to keep them warm. They will

not quietly submit to a strike that will keep these things of life away

from them. The rich will not suffer in case these great arteries of trade

and commerce are temporarily abandoned, for they can provide themselves

against the horror of famine and the distress of this critical situation.

It is the poor unfortunate men, and their wives and children, who will

suffer and die. I cannot speak to you without a show of emotion, for, my

friends, beneath the surface in America there is a baneful seething which

may express itself in radical action, the consequences of which no man can

foresee. In asking your cooperation to settle this dispute I am but

striving, as we stand in the shadow of a great war, to keep these forces

in check and under control."

Getting closer to the men, and lowering his voice, he said: "The Allies

are fighting our battle, the battle of civilization, across the way. They

cannot 'carry on' without supplies and means of sustenance which the

railroads of America bring to them. I am probably asking you to make a

sacrifice at this time, but is not the sacrifice worth while because of

the things involved? Only last night I was thinking about this war and its

far-reaching effects. No man can foresee its extent or its evil effects

upon the world itself. It is a world cataclysm, and before it ends it may

unsettle everything fine and wholesome in America. We of America, although

we are cut off from its terrible sweep, cannot be unmindful of these

consequences, for we stand in the midst of it all. We must keep our own

house in order so that we shall be prepared to act when action becomes

necessary. Who knows, gentlemen, but by to-morrow a situation will arise

where it shall be found necessary for us to get into the midst of this

bloody thing? You can see, therefore, that we must go to the very limit to

prevent a strike that would bring about a paralysis of these arteries of

trade and commerce. If you will agree with me in this matter, I will

address Congress and frankly ask for an increase of rates and do

everything I can to make up for the loss you may sustain. I know that the

things I ask you to do may be disagreeable and inconvenient, but I am not

asking you to make a bloody sacrifice. Our boys may be called upon any

minute to make that sacrifice for us."

On August 29, 1916, the President appeared before a joint session of the

Congress and recommended immediate legislation to avert the impending

strike. Following this, the chairman of the Interstate Commerce Commission

of the House, Mr. Adamson, of Georgia, brought in a bill, now known as the

Adamson Eight-Hour Law, which, after several unsuccessful attempts by

members of the House and Senate to amend it, was signed by the President

on September 5th.

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