Mr. John L. Hayes, chairman of the Tariff Commission, whose duties naturally would be supposed to be over, took rooms in Washington and as agent of the woollen manufacturers began a campaign to get more for them than as commissioner he had consented to. The makers of chemicals and drugs—and quinine particularly—instituted a siege. Agents of iron and steel, sugar, mineral water, wood pulp, of everything which had suffered a reduction, appeared in the corridors of the Capitol at Washington. “No such lobby has been seen here for years,” the correspondents began to write to their newspapers. These agents, attorneys, manufacturers, did not hesitate to say loudly that no bill should pass unsatisfactory to them. They were far from standing together, however, in their demands. Indeed, they were in incessant conflict, for they all wanted what they purchased—that is, their raw material—free; while what they sold—their product—they wanted protected! In every industry came this clash, though it was more acute between the wool and woollen men than elsewhere. The first bill to come out of committee was that of the Senate. It was at once seen that the duties proposed were in many cases _lower_ than those proposed by the Tariff Commission. For instance: the Tariff Commission had laid $6.72 duty on pig iron, a reduction of only 4 per cent. The Senate Committee, after going over the whole ground, had cut the rate to $6.00. Mr. Sherman had fought the decrease in the committee; he continued to fight it on the floor. He tried for $6.72 and was voted down overwhelmingly. He tried for $6.50 and again was beaten. He argued, threatened, cajoled. He read telegrams from the iron men of his state, brought in letters and testimony, worked day and night, but it took him over a month to succeed, and then it was only, as Beck said, after “he had threatened the Senate with the defeat of the whole bill if they did not give him at least $6.50 on pig iron, and after he had drawn the party whip over the heads of his followers with an audacity I have never seen equalled in any public assembly, by threats and every other means that a great bold parliamentary leader can assert over the men who look up to him.” Beck was none too hard on Sherman. He beat his party into submission, but it should not be forgotten that the lash was on his own shoulder—the lash of Henry B. Payne of Cleveland, of the ironmasters of the Mahoning Valley, of all the highly organized iron interests of his state. He knew only too well what failure to accede to their demand meant for the party in Ohio, for they did not hesitate to tell him privately and publicly.