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JAMES K.
VARDAMAN
(An Editorial)
James K.
Vardaman is dead.
The man who
for a quarter of a century was the most dominant
figure in public life
in Mississippi has solved life's greatest mystery - Death.
In many
respects he was a remarkable personality.
No leader
ever lived in this commonwealth who commanded a more enthusiastic
following.
His ability
to stir the masses was an asset that others who aspired to places of honor
truly envied.
James K.
Vardaman inspired among his friends and followers a devotion that was but
little short of idolatry.
On the stump he
attracted and held fascinated multiplied thousands while opponents were
speaking to mere hundreds.
Especially
was this true in the hey-dey of his career.
That he was
an orator, self-trained in the art of swaying vast crowds, cannot be
disputed.
That he had within him elements that drew
many men to him as with hooks of steel is beyond cavil or
doubt.
The secret
of this was that he was at all times loyal to his friends, for he truly
believed that his friends possessed more merit than some other men's
friends.
His public
career was stormy and tempestuous. He was always in a fight for he was by
nature a fighter and loved to battle with opposing hosts.
That he
made mistakes is frankly admitted by those who stood closest to him in his
various combats, but they never doubted his earnestness or
sincerity.
Vardaman reached the Zenith of his political career in the memorable campaign of
1911 when he was swept into the Senate after a frenzied three-cornered
battle with LeRoy Percy and C.H. Alexander by a majority of 60,000 votes.
It was a marvelous victory. Needless it is to discuss the issues of that
campaign, or review their merits. Vardaman was the victor, the idol of the
masses.
What
happened thereafter is a part of political history still fresh in the
public mind. Vardaman was opposed to the World War. Although he had been
a soldier in the Spanish-American event, he hated war with a fierce
intensity-a hatred so outspoken that one could hardly doubt its
sincerity.
But
the American people, including Vardaman's own following in
Mississippi, favored the war, and Vardaman's political sun sank rapidly. In
the campaign of 1918 he went down in defeat before a younger opponent. Sick
in mind and body, discouraged and disillusioned as many men are after long
and stormy political careers, Vardaman retired to private life.
Over-persuaded by loyal and devoted friends, he tried to stage a comeback
when John Sharp Williams retired from the Senate, but without avail. The
Vardaman of 1922 was not the earnest, passionate, picturesque and
persuasive Vardaman of 1911. Again a younger opponent triumphed.
The Daily News
for more than a quarter of a century was arrayed. against the issues and
principles advocated by Vardaman. He was never the political or personal
friend of its editor. And yet this writer must confess that at all times
he cherished a secret admiration for "The Great White Chief," and
marvelled at the man's magnetic personality, his glittering rhetoric, his
well-rounded sentences, his beautiful oratory, his ability to stir the
masses as they had never been stirred before.
Vardaman
was self-educated, yet he had a powerful, well-trained and ever-active
mind. He delved deep into classic literature. Poetry was his passion. He
dearly loved rhythm in language. He thought independently, if not always
clearly, with originality and imagination, and with the courage of
conviction. These priceless gifts were sustained by an extraordinary power
of acquisition. He was tenacious to an extreme degree. He never
compromised an issue, asked for an armistice, or sent out a flag of truce
when engaged in battle.
History
must accord to James K. Vardaman a high place. He was a most unusual and
extraordinary man. He had to be in order to win for himself the place he
so long held in the hearts of people.
To
paraphrase a sentence Vardaman often quoted:
"His faults we write on the
sands; his virtues we crave on the tablets of our memory."
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