A STUDY OF A MAN.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1751, 27 September 1905, Page 17

A STUDY OF A MAN.

MIR JEROME, DISTRICT ATTORNEY * OF NEW YORK. PROSECUTING CRIMINALS AND GAMBLERS. (By Leroy Scott, in “World’s Work.”) Imagine a square-chinned, graying xnan, built like a half-back (lie never was one, for he broke down in college from over-application to his studios), give him mind and spirit, and you have William Travers Jerome, the District Attorney of New York County, in a sentence.

It took New York sometime to understand Mr Jerome. ITe was eccentric, and you could never tell what he was going to do nest. That • sophisticated city had grown so used to cunning business men, shifty politicians, and reformers of lethargic diplomacy that it failed to recognise that Mr Jerome was merely the powerful recrudescence of certain old-time frank virtues, which, in politics at least, seem to have become obsolete. New York recognises that fact pretty thoroughly now, and has finally located the quality that is the main source of Mr Jerorhe’s remarkable power. He is able, but possibly there are many men who are just as able. He is full of . energy and tenacity ; but those virtues are not limited to him. The quality that makes Jerome what Jerome is, is his reckless courage, even audacity, in fighting for what he considers right, come what may to himself. When I asked Mr Jerome point blank what quality lie regarded as responsible for his rise, he replied: “I do not know. Only an introspective man could answer that, and I have never examined myself. I have no rule in life, .except to do the thing directly before me the best I know how, then take up the next job.” After a moment’s thought, he added : “I have never planned a career, and I now have no plan for a career. I believe with the Caliph Ali, that ‘thy lot or portion in life is seekng after thee; cease, therefore, from seeking after it.’ I just do my work, and let the future and my career take care of themselves.” ASSISTING THE POOR. When Mr Jerome became District Attorney, January 1,. 1902, after a spectacular campaign—spectacular in that he told the unalloyed truth —he took charge of the heaviest criminal law practice in the world. His office handles about 13,000 cases a year. To do this work there are, besides himself, thirty lawyers, and an executive staff of one hundred men. The private office in which this immense amount of work has its focus is simplicity itself. It is big, light, and airy. A flowered green carpet, a desk in tlie middle of the floor, a large safe, a bottle of filtered water in a corner, a couple of tables, a half-dozen chairs, a rack for newspapers, and on the walls the photographs of half a dozen ex-District Attorneys—this is a complete inventory of the room’s furniture. Here the “ chief ” distributes the oases among his associates, advises them on difficult points, and here by mastering manner and threat of the Grand Jury he has extracted hundreds of important confessions from unwilling witnesses. Mr Jerome could have said very properly on becoming District Attorney—“ We’ve got enough to do to look after the regular work of this office without bothering about anything else.” But he didn’t say that. He has performed his duty, and has performed it well; there are plenty of persons who will tell you he is the best District Attorney New York County has ever had. But he has done a great deal more than his duty, and it is more with these things in his career that this article is chiefly concerned. During the campaign a constant theme of Mr Jerome’s speeches was the evils that had been allowed to surround the tenement dweller by the Van Wyck administration. One of the things in excess of his duty that Mr Jerome did was to take up his residence on the crowded East Side, and to establish a branch office there for the benefit of the poor complainants whose work would not allow them to come during the day to the office in the Criminal Courts building. Word was sent out that the office would be open every night, and no matter what the hour the injured person had but to ring the bell. At first few came. The East Side, accustomed to being blackmailed and bullied by those in, power, was suspicious of this unrequired provision for justice. But after a few daring men with grievances had visited the office, had come out unbullied and unblackmailcd, and had had their oases successfully prosecuted, such confidence in the office was established that the men living in the house never knew at what hour of the night they were to be roused by some seeker after his rights. FIGHTING THE GAMBLERS. His fight against the gamblers, which he has waged since he was a Judge in special sessions, was an enterprise that Mr Jerome need not have entered upon, for the suppression of gambling falls more properly within the province of the Polio© Department. But that it wasn’t his job made no differenoe to Mr

Jerome. It wasn’t being done, and it needed being done. That was enough for him; so lie went at it. He thought that by strictly enforcing the law he could wipe out, or greatly diminish, gambling in New York. But a couple of years’ experience taught him that the law was useless. He raided scores of places, arrested hundreds of players and keeners, but could get few convictions. The difficulty was that the players could not be made to testify against tlie keepers, for by so doing they would be testifying against themselves, and a witness cannot be forced to incriminate himself. The mere raiding did not appreciably lessen the evil. A raid meant to a proprietor only the loss of two or three thousand dollars’ worth of gambling devices. That was nothing. He could start up again, and his profits for a single night would make up the loss, or perhaps reimburse him twenty times over Mr Jerome does not know how to give up. Having discovered the law was useless he promptly set about getting a law that was of some good. Th.e measure he had introduced into the State Legislature made it impossible for a ■witness to refuse to testify on the old plea, by providing that in a gambling case a witness’s testimony could not be turned' against himself. Mr Jerome waged his fight for the bill alone, using decent methods. __ Arrayed agajnst him were the gamblers and their friends, with plenty of money and with no Puritan ideas about how it should be spent., At this time a scion of the Vanderbilt family, wanted as a witness against Richard Canfield, the biggest of the gamblers, in whose place he was said to have lost in two sittings a sum running into hundreds of thousands, was keeping out of the State to avoid being . brought into Court, so Mr Jerome also had the powerful Vanderbilt influence against him. The fight over the hill was a bitter one. Two things contributed to its final triumph. If he had failed in the real object of his previous campaign against gambling, Mr Jerome, by the newspaper accounts of his- fight against the evil, had at least thoroughly roused the public. Feeling in the country was so strong that rural members of the Legislature dared not vote against the bill. The second element grew out of the personal animosity existing between Senator John Raines (Republican leader of the Senate) and Senator* Brackett (formerly the attorney of Mr Canfield). While the bill was before the Senate, Senator Brackett launched into a bitter personal .attack on Senator Ramos. The first result of this attack was tha Senator Rames flayed Senator Brackett alive; the second result was that the aroused Republican leader, who had favoured the measure, but who had been too busy to give it much attention, became the bill’s fierce champion, and got all his following behind him. Thus, by a curious chance, an outburst of temper, caused by partisan rivalry, gave New York its present anti-gam-bling bill. A SUCCESSFUL CAMPAIGN. By the beginning of 1905 Mr Jerome had had the law affirmed and was preparing to resume his campaign against the gamblers after a year of non-aggression. Just before he was ready to open fire, the head of the Police Department, a most excellent man, but not a very excellent Chief of Police, had an unfortunate complacent mood, during which he announced that gambling houses in New York existed only in history. While this announcement was still fresh Mr Jerome’s guns began to go off. He subpoenaed a few of the most important gamblers, and in a heart-to-heart talk made clear to them that with the help of the new law he was certain, to beat them. Did they want to fight, or did they want to surrender? If they would surrender he would take no action against them. They decided to give up without a fight, to close their houses, and turn over their gambling paraphernalia. After this it was not necessary to issue subpoenas. Mr Jerome let it be known that he wanted to see the gamblers, and for the next two weeks they were constantly dropping in to offer their surrender—not a very gratifying subject for the meditations of the Chief of Police, who had been unable to find a gambling house in New York. It was a sudden victory. Said a friend to Mr Jerome —“Well, it seems the gambling walls are corning down, like the walls of Jericho, at the blast of a trumpet/’ “Yes,” replied Mr Jerome; “but it took three years to get the blast ready.” As fast as the gamblers surrendered Mr Jerome sent out vans, and after brief absences these vans backed up at the Criminal Courts building, loaded with gambling furniture. There is now stored in Mr Jerome’s office about 40,000 dollars worth of gambling material. Two large rooms are filled to the ceiling, and there is an overflow into other rooms, so that work is done with the green cloth at the workers’ elbows. There are dismantled faro layouts, roulette wheels, red-and-black tables, Klondyke games, and poker tables, stacked oil top of each other like corded wood : and all of these are of tlie finest material and workmanship, ■for t-he.y are from the “swellest” uptown gambling resorts. Millions have passed over their green cloth. And there are bushels and bushels of chips, in nillow-slips and potato bags. Sen-

tenoe has been passed upon all this gambling material. Whatever of it will burn is to be broken into firewood, and turned over to charitable societies to be distributed among the poor; and each 500-dollar roulette wheel, over which breathless millionaires have leaned, will keep some poverty-stricken family warm for a night. “At present,” to quote Mr Jerome, “there is not a big gambler doing business in New York.” Mr Jerome has not w r iped out the gambling evil; to do that would require a polios foroe of his own. There are still innumerable small gaming-places. But, by wiping out the big establishments, Mr Jerome showed that the small ones could be suppressed by an efficient police force, and thereby did much to rouse the puibic sentiment that lias recently culminated in a citizens’ movement for a better po-lieo department. CORRUPT LABOUR LEADERS. Mr Jerome’s activity against corrupt labour leaders gained widespread fame by his prosecution and conviction of Sam Parks and other walking delegates. An incident that occurred at the beginning of this campaign shows both his audacity and his power. The Central Federated Union, representing more than a quarter of a million of union members in and around New York city, challenged certain of his remarks about corrupt labour leaders, and asked him if he would come before their meeting and repeat his statements. “Sure, I’ll go anywhere,” he said. Accordingly he appeared one Sunday afternoon in their hall. It was a distinctly hostile crowd that he faced—nine men in ten against him. He did not try to assuage their anger. It is a habit with him to say worse things to a man’s face than he says behind his back, and he did not depart from his habit on this occasion. There were fierce tilts. Mr Jerome, smoking one cigarette after another, kept his temper and met allcomers. In the end he won the crowd, and w’hen he left the hall there was an ovation. One of the strongest of Mr Jerome’s many efforts has been to secure an amendment to the present liquor tax law. The present law, by prohibiting the opening of saloons on Sunday except such as have a sufficient number of guest rooms to put them into the class of hotels, has transformed some 1500 saloons into the far w r orse “Raines law hotels,” breeders of vice and crime. But even three-quarters of the regular saloons do not observe the law r . They may lock the front door, but the side door is always open. Police “graft” on a large scale is a direct result of this unenforced and unenforceable law. Mr Jerome holds that the infamous “Raines law hotels” would be wiped out, and the evils of illegal opening would be greatly reduced by amending the law so that Sunday opening from 1 to 11 p.m. should be legal. During the campaign of 1901 Mi* Jerome announced in his speeches that he was going to do all in his powder to secure the passage of such an amendment, and every year since he has brought a bill before the Legislature. The first year ho w r ent to Albany practically alone, but since then the sentiment for some form of Sunday opening has grown so rapidly that it is now an unorganised movement unofficially headed by a great proportion of the most prominent divines, professional men, and business men of the city. _ Mr Jerome’s determination seems to increase with failure. The amendment to the excise law is bound to come some day. A STORMY INTERVIEW. It is not wise to fool with Mr Jerome. While his bill was before the Legislature last year he was waited upon by a deputation from the Liquor Dealers’ Association, who asked what they could do to help press the bill at Albany. “ Just one thing—keep out of tlie way,” returned Mr Jerome. “I don’t want your help.” And then he went on to inform them that if they interfered with their dubious assistance he would make trouble for them. Shortly afterward he was in Albany, and on his return to New York he sent for the president of the association. That gentleman, considering himself a friend of Mr Jerome, came in with a smile. There were no diplomatic preliminaries. Mr Jerome never wastes words. He turned fiercely upon his visitor. “Look here! Didn’t I say I’d make trouble for you if you tried any dirty business behind my back?” The astounded president began to disclaim any wrongdoing. “You sit right down, and tell me what you did with that 25,000 dollars corruption fund,” ordered Mr Jerome. When the president came to he stated that he could say nothing, for his was an oath-bound organisation, sworn to reveal none of its transactions. “Not even to the District Attorney?” “ Not even to you.” Mr Jerome touched a button, and a bell rang in another room. “ What’s that for ?” asked the startled president. “ For an officer to take you to the Grand Jury.” “What! You wouldn’t treat a friend so ?” “I would when a friend gets into such dirty business as you’ve been up to in Albany.” The officer was sent back, and the president proceeded to confess. So many thousands went to pay legislators’ bills, so many thousands went to slake legislative thirst, and so on till all had been accounted for but a few thousand dollars. Then the president halted. “ Go on. The rest you divided among yourselves,” said Mr Jerome giving him

the cue. But the president would go no further. Mr Jerome touched 1 ho button the officex* reappeared, ami the president went before the Grand Jury. The case is now in the hands ci the Governor and the Legislature. Whatever its outcome the District Attorney has at least given the powerful Liquor Dealers’ Association a very black eye. STRONG SENSE OF DUTY. Mx* Jerome has a. sense of duty that is stronger than himself. Perhaps no act of his career brought upon him so much harsh criticism as his declaration against the renomination of Mayor Low, before the opening of the municipal campaign of 1993; and perhaps no act shows in such high relief his sense of duty and his recklessness of seifinterest. During the spring and summer friends of Mayor Low had frequently declared to him in private conversation that Mr Low stood no chance of re-election, but that he was the logical candidate of the Reform party, and it was due him that he have the tribute of renomination. Mr Jerome grew indignant at this sort of speech. Again and again he said in effect—« “We can’t let two years of good work be lost simply out of a notion of loyalty to Mayor Low. We are working for the good of a city, not for the good of a man.” He begged them to declare their opinions publicly, and to look for a candidate who did stand some chance of being elected. They one and all excused themselves. Mi* Jerome took the matter very much to heart. Gradually it came to him as his duty to speak out the truth, since no one else would. Friends who learned of his growing purpose pointed out that for him, elected on the Fusion ticket with Mayor Low. to take this action would bring the whole Fusion party about his ears. It would probably mean his political ruin. Mr Jerome saw these dangers as clearly as his friends. But the probable consequences to himself did not" alter his conception of his duty. The terrible strain of this moral crisis made him half sick, but he came out with, the things that many believed but none had dared say. He had previously announced that, under no condition, would he himself be a candidate for Mayor, so no one could claim that in opposing Mi* Low he was trying to serve a selfish interest. As he had expected. for the next few days he was the most berated man in New York. Bub he had done the right as he saw it, and his conscience, which has more influence with him than all the other considerations in the w'orld, gave him its approval. JEROME’S AMBITION. Mr Jerome has set at naught all the tried rules for securing political advancement. Ho is independent to the limit of independence. Before the campaign of last fall he was approached many times relative to being the Democratic candidate for Governor. His uniform reply was that if the candidacy were offered him he might give it consideration. but he would not pull a single wire to get it. Judge Parker wauted him as the candidate, and exSenator David B. Hill, Democratic boss of tlie State, called on Mr Jerome supposedly to offer the nomination provided he could bind Mr Jerome to be a strict party man. Senator Hill approached the matter, with his characteristic devious diplomacy, and finally reached tlie subject of Mr Jerome’s ambition. He impressed upon Mr Jerome that* if he accepted the nomination as a strict party man, great would be his political and financial profit. “ Senator,” Mr Jerome returned, “ I have no ambition to make money. My ambition in life is mainly confined to being a good man. When anyone tries to take me up on a high mountain and show me the treasures of the earth, there is just one answer I can give them, and that is .” And he ended with a graphic equivalent for “ Retro me, Sathanas.” This w r as hardly the speech of a “ safe ” party man, and Mr Hill carried* his offer elsewhere. Mr Jerome’s political party is the public, and that party considers him quite “safe” enough. His method of retaining the support of his party is unique among politicians. As has been indicated, it is to do what he thinks is right, and do it as hard as he can. When the public gets tired of that programme he’s ready to step down and go out. But there is little likelihood of its getting tired. “Jerome’s the real goods,” say those sham-piercing semicynics, the reporters who “ cover ” the Criminal Courts building; and that seems also to be the judgment of his party. Anyone can get Mr Jerome’s ear vdio has real business with him. Ho is very courteous to the visitor, however unimportant that person may be, unless he sees the caller is trying to pull the wool over his eyes. Then the caller thinks the Criminal Court building is falling on him. With the'men in his office Mr Jerome is on very cordial terniSh—they all like the “ chief ” ; and outside the office he has a wide circle of friends. His relations with reporters is thoroughly typical of him. He talks with them unreservedly, as a rule suppressing nothing. When ho recites a fact he is not ready to have made public, he merely says, “ That don’t go, boys.” It is often a pieoe of news that would make a first-page story, but it “don’t go.” Only twice since he has been in office has it gone, and those two

betrayals of his confidence have pained no one so deeply as they have the District Attorney. THE MAN’S PERSONALITY. It is a common impression that Mr Jerome is a high explosive, likely to go off at every little jar—that he is a series of detonations. So it comes as a, surprise to learn that Mr Jerome, though certainly possessing explosive potentiality is, in fact, a. quiet, grave mn.n—though combined with this gravity there is an almost boyish animation that sends him through his office, hands in pocket, whistling or humming a popular air. He works rapidly, and, as has been\shown, places no limits as to what or how much work he shall do. Be not an orator, in the accepted sense of that word, but no man in New York can draw a. larger crowd. He just talks facts —humanised facts. “When my work’s done I try to get as much fun out of life as I can.” He gets a great deal, and it helps keep him young-—on edge. He reads much, especially history. Also he is fond of -poetry, which seems a little incongruous in a man so practical and so keen for facts —undeniable facts. H© golfs, drives an automobile, and has a workshop at his home at Lakeville, Conn., where he amuses himself by making sundials, compasses, clocks, and other gimcracks as gifts for his friends. Mr Jerome is 43, and is older and younger than his years. The most- remarkable fact about him is he is still growing like a . boy. . When a man, already among the foremost of the country, is growing at such a rate one can but wonder where .he will rank and what will be. his position when he has attained his full development.