Six Years After

The campaign of Alfred E. Smith for election to the Presidency is for most citizens a matter of history. It is not mere history to James Cannon Jr., 70-year-old Methodist Bishop, who has abhorred alcoholic drink since Ulysses Grant was President. He might have forgotten 1928 but that: 1) a Senate committee called him in 1930 to inquire why he had not reported $48,000 contributed to his anti-Smith campaign; 2) he was indicted under the Corrupt Practices Act in 1931; 3) after his three-year battle to outlaw the indictment the Supreme Court declared it valid; 4) last week he and his confidential secretary were in a District of Columbia Court fighting against conviction on charges that might send them both to jail for two years and result in a $10,000 fine. Walking with a cane but otherwise apparently untouched by ravages of age or care, the Bishop last week stepped into the District of Columbia Court House. He took an active part in selecting the jury, nodding his approval before each juror was selected, making notes and prompting his swart lawyer, Robert H. McNeill, who sat beside him. When Assistant U. S. District Attorney John J. Wilson got up to outline the Government's case, the Bishop suddenly lost interest. As if it were of the greatest indifference to him he stared at the ceiling, leaned his head back on his hands, finally appeared to go to sleep while Attorney Wilson declared that the Bishop had collected $65,300 for campaign purposes from Edwin C. Jameson, president of Globe & Rutgers Fire Insurance Co. (taken over last year by New York State's superintendent of insurance); that he and his secretary had reported Mr. Jameson's contribution to the Clerk of the House as only $17,300; that he had not only tried to conceal the amount of the contribution but had converted part of the money to his personal use--did not report it because he could not account for its spending. Next day the Bishop took a greater interest in proceedings. His own attorney pictured him a martyr who had spent every cent he could make and scrape together to defeat Smith and Rum, who could easily have reported spending the whole $65,300 but had not done so because it would have been deceptive to report $48,000 spent in Virginia by a local organization. When Attorney McNeill pictured him as a man of unshakable courage the Bishop smiled approvingly. His excited attorney cried, "Oh Liberty and Justice, what crimes are often done in thy name!" An equally impassioned plea was made for the Bishop's codefendant. Her lawyer declared: "This little woman comes up from Virginia charged with this crime. She was the daughter of a Methodist minister and was the support of her widowed mother for many years. . . . She accepted the treasuryship of this committee for which she was paid 75-c- an hour. She performed those duties as she performed every other duty in life--as a Christian woman and as a citizen of the U. S.-- faithfully and honestly." Then the Government brought on its witnesses. Mr. Jameson testified that he had given $65,300 to the Bishop who was introduced to him by C. Bascomb Slemp. The Government attorney told the jury that the Bishop had said, "I destroyed all the correspondence I could lay my hands on so that anyone who delved into my affairs would find nothing. . . . I know that bunch down in Virginia." Trying to prove that there had never been a local Virginia organization to spend the $48,000 unaccounted for, the Government put Frank Lyon, one of the Bishop's lieutenants, on the stand. He swore that he had never even heard of the "Headquarters Committee" for which the Government contended he was working. He was shown a letter on the Headquarters Committee's stationery. "Don't you remember having seen that stationery?" "I don't."

"But such a letter was sent out by your authority."

"Yes. . . . I didn't pay any attention to the stationery."

A Federal agent testified that the Bishop had told him: that in December 1928, the Bishop "found himself in somewhat of a hole," went to a Richmond bank to borrow money, while there looked into a safe deposit box, found $5,000 in cash that he had "forgotten."

Indignant that such testimony was permitted, the Bishop's attorney cried: "I'm going to defend the defendant's rights even if the heavens fall."

Said the presiding justice, overruling him, "You're going to get your rights here and the heavens aren't going to fall."

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