The First Arrests
The Administration chose suppression. They resorted to force in an
attempt to end picketing. It was a policy doomed to failure as
certainly as all resorts to force to kill agitation have failed
ultimately. This marked the beginning of the adoption by the
Administration of tactics from which they could never extricate
themselves with honor. Unfortunately for them they were entering upon
this policy toward women which savored of czarist practices, at the
very moment they were congratulating the Russians upon their liberation
from the oppression of a Czar. This fact supplied us with a fresh angle
of attack.
President Wilson sent a Mission to Russia to add America’s appeal to
that of the other Allies to keep that impoverished country in the war.
Such was our-democratic zeal to persuade Russia to continue the war and
to convince her people of its democratic purposes, and of the
democratic quality of America, that Elihu Root, one of the President’s
envoys, stated in Petrograd that he represented a republic where
“universal, direct, equal and secret suffrage obtained.” We subjected
the President to attack through this statement.
Russia also sent a war mission to our country for purposes of
coöperation. This occasion offered us the opportunity again to expose
the Administration’s weakness in claiming complete political democracy
while women were still denied their political freedom.
It was a beautiful June day when all Washington was agog with the visit
of the Russian diplomats to the President. As the car carrying the
envoys passed swiftly through the gates of the White House there stood
on the picket line two silent sentinels, Miss Lucy Burns of New York
and Mrs. Lawrence Lewis of Philadelphia, both members of the National
Executive Committee, with a great lettered banner which read:
TO THE RUSSIAN ENVOYS
PRESIDENT WILSON AND ENVOY ROOT ARE DECEIVING RUSSIA WHEN THEY SAY “WE
ARE A DEMOCRACY, HELP US WIN THE WORLD WAR SO THAT DEMOCRACY MAY
SURVIVE”
WE THE WOMEN OF AMERICA TELL YOU THAT AMER ICA IS NOT A DEMOCRACY.
TWENTY-MILLION AMERI’ CAN WOMEN ARE DENIED THE RIGHT TO VOTE. PRESI
DENT WILSON IS THE CHIEF OPPONENT OF THEIR NA TIONAL ENFRANCHISEMENT.
HELP US MAKE THIS NATION REALLY FREE. TELL OUR GOVERNMENT IT MUST
LIBERATE ITS PEOPLE BEFORE IT CAN CLAIM FREE RUSSIA AS AN ALLY.
Rumors that the suffragists would make a special demonstration before
the Russian Mission had brought a great crowd to the far gate of the
White House; a crowd composed almost entirely of men.
Like all crowds, this crowd had its share of hoodlums and roughs who
tried to interfere with the women’s order of the day. There was a
flurry of excitement over this defiant message of truth, but nothing
that could not with the utmost ease have been settled by one policeman.
There was the criticism in the press and on the lips of men that we
were embarrassing our Government before the eyes of foreign visitors.
In answering the criticism, Miss Paul publicly stated our position
thus: “The intolerable conditions against which we protest can be
changed in the twinkling of an eye. The responsibility for our protest
is, therefore, with the Administration and not with the women of
America, if the lack of democracy at home weakens the Administration in
its fight for democracy three thousand miles away.”
This was too dreadful. A flurry at the gates of the Chief of the nation
at such a time would never do. Our allies in the crusade for democracy
must not know that we had a day-by-day unrest at home. Something must
be done to stop this expose at once. Had these women no manners? Had
they no shame? Was the fundamental weakness in our boast of pure and
perfect democracy to be so wantonly displayed with impunity?
Of course it was embarrassing. We meant it to be. The truth must be
told at all costs. This was no time for manners.
Hurried conferences behind closed doors! Summoning of the military to
discuss declaring a military zone around the White House! Women could
not advance on drawn bayonets. And if they did . . . What a picture!
Common decency told the more humane leaders that this would never do. I
daresay political wisdom crept into the reasoning of others.
Closing the Woman’s Party headquarters was discussed. Perhaps a raid!
And all for what? Because women were holding banners asking for the
precious principle at home that men were supposed to be dying for
abroad.
Finally a decision was reached embodying the combined wisdom of all the
various conferees. The Chief of Police, Major Pullman, was detailed to
“request” us to stop “picketing” and to tell us that if we continued to
picket, we would be arrested._
“We have picketed for six months without interference,” said Miss Paul.
“Has the law been changed?”
“No,” was the reply, “but you must stop it.”
“But, Major Pullman, we have consulted our lawyers and know we have a
legal right to picket.”
“I warn you, you will be arrested if you attempt to picket again.”
The following day Miss Lucy Burns and Miss Katherine Morey of Boston
carried to the White House gates “We shall fight for the things we have
always held nearest our hearts, for democracy, for the right of those
who submit to authority to have a voice in their own government,” and
were arrested.
News had spread through the city that the pickets were to be arrested.
A moderately large crowd had gathered to see the “fun.” One has only to
come into conflict with prevailing authority, whether rightly or
wrongly, to find friendly hosts vanishing with lightning speed. To know
that we were no longer wanted at the gates of the White House and that
the police were no longer our “friends” was enough for the mob mind.
Some members of the crowd made sport of the women. Others hurled cheap
and childish epithets at them. Small boys were allowed to capture
souvenirs, shreds of the banners torn from non-resistant women, as
trophies of the sport.
Thinking they had been mistaken in believing the pickets were to be
arrested, and having grown weary of their strenuous sport, the crowd
moved on its way. Two solitary figures remained, standing on the
sidewalk, flanked by the vast Pennsylvania Avenue, looking quite
abandoned and alone, when suddenly without any warrant in law, they
were arrested on a completely deserted avenue.
Miss Burns and Miss Morey upon arriving at the police station,
insisted, to the great surprise of all the officials, upon knowing the
charge against them. Major Pullman and his entire staff were utterly at
a loss to know what to answer. The Administration had looked ahead only
as far as threatening arrest. They doubtless thought this was all they
would have to do. People could not be arrested for picketing. Picketing
is a guaranteed right under the Clayton Act of Congress. Disorderly
conduct? There had been no disorderly I conduct. Inciting to riot?
Impossible! The women had stood as silent sentinels holding the
President’s own eloquent words.
Doors opened and closed mysteriously. Officials and subofficials passed
hurriedly to and fro. Whispered conversations were heard. The book on
rules and regulations was hopefully thumbed. Hours passed. Finally the
two prisoners were pompously told that they had “obstructed the
traffic” on Pennsylvania Avenue, were dismissed on their own
recognizance, and never brought to trial.
The following day, June 23rd, more arrests were made; two women at the
White House, two at the Capitol. All carried banners with the same
words of the President. There was no hesitation this time. They were
promptly arrested for “obstructing the traffic.” They, too, were
dismissed and their cases never tried. It seemed clear that the
Administration hoped to suppress picketing merely by arrests. When.
however. women continued to picket in the face of arrest, the
Administration quickened its advance into the venture of suppression.
It decided to bring the offenders to trial.
On June 26, six American women were tried, judged guilty on the
technical charge of “obstructing the traffic,” warned by the court of
their “unpatriotic, almost treasonable behavior,” and sentenced to pay
a fine of twenty-five dollars or serve three days in jail.
“Not a dollar of your fine will we pay,” was the answer of the women.
“To pay a fine would be an admission of guilt. We are innocent.”
The six women who were privileged to serve the first terms of
imprisonment for suffrage in this country, were Miss Katherine Morey of
Massachusetts, Mrs. Annie Arneil and Miss Mabel Vernon of Delaware,
Miss Lavinia Dock of Pennsylvania, Miss Maud Jamison of Virginia, and
Miss Virginia Arnold of North Carolina. “Privileged” in spite of the
foul air, the rats, and the mutterings of their strange comrades in
jail!
Independence Day, July 4, 1917, is the occasion for two demonstrations
in the name of liberty. Champ Clark, late Democratic speaker of the
House, is declaiming to a cheering crowd behind the White House,
“Governments derive their just powers from the consent of the
governed.” In front of the White House thirteen silent sentinels with
banners bearing the same words, are arrested. It would have been
exceedingly droll if it had not been so tragic. Champ Clark and his
throng were not molested. The women with practically a deserted street
were arrested and served jail terms for “obstructing traffic.”
The trial of this group was delayed to give the jail authorities time
to “vacate and tidy up,” as one prisoner confided to Miss Joy Young. It
developed that “orders” had been received at the jail immediately after
the arrests and before the trial, “to make ready for the suffragettes.”
What did it matter that their case had not yet been heard? To jail they
must go.
Was not the judge who tried and sentenced them a direct appointee of
President Wilson? Were not the District Commissioners who gave orders
to prepare the cells the direct appointees of President Wilson? And was
not the Chief of Police of the District of Columbia a direct appointee
of these same commissioners? And was not the jail warden who made life
for the women so unbearable in prison also a direct appointee of the
commissioners?
It was all a merry little ring and its cavalier attitude toward the
law, toward justice, and above all toward women was of no importance.
The world was on fire with a grand blaze. This tiny flame would
scarcely be visible. No one would notice a few “mad” women thrown into
jail. And if the world should find it out, doubtless public opinion
would agree that the women ought to stay there. And even if it should
not agree, this little matter could all be explained away before
another election.
Meanwhile the President could proclaim through official channels his
disinterestedness. Observe the document, of which I give the substance,
which he caused or allowed to be published at this time, through his
Committee on Public Information.
“OFFICIAL BULLETIN”
“Published Daily under order of the President of the United States, by
the Committee on Public Information.
GEORGE CREEL, Chairman.
“Furnished without charge to all newspapers, post offices, government
officials and agencies of a public character for the dissemination of
official news of the United States Government.”
“Washington, July 3, 1917. No. 46-Vol. i.”
There follows a long editorial[1] which laments the public attention
which has centered on the militant campaign, appeals to editors and
reporters not to “encourage” us in our peculiar conduct by printing
defies to the President of the United States even when “flaunted on a
pretty little purple and gold banner” and exhorts the public to control
its thrills. The official bulletin concludes with:
“It is a fact that there remains in America one man who has known
exactly the right attitude to take and maintain toward the pickets. A
whimsical smile, slightly puckered at the roots by a sense of the
ridiculous, a polite bow—and for the rest a complete ignoring of their
existence. He happens to be the man around whom the little whirlwind
whirls—the President of the United States.” And finally with an
admonition that “the rest’ of the country … take example from him in
its emotional reaction to the picket question.”
[1] From the Woman Citizen.
The Administration pinned its faith on jail—that institution of
convenience to the oppressor when he is strong in power and his weapons
are effective. When the oppressor miscalculates the strength of the
oppressed, jail loses its convenience.