New Attacks on the President
The Senate was about to recess. No assurance was given by the majority
that suffrage would be considered either before or after the recess.
Alarmed and aroused, we decided upon a national protest in Washington
August 6th, the anniversary of the birth of Inez Milholland.
The protest took the form of a meeting at the base of the Lafayette
monument in the park, directly opposite the White House. Women from
many states in the Union, dressed in white, hatless and coatless in the
midsummer heat of Washington, marched t0 the monument carrying banners
of purple, white and gold, led by a standard-bearer carrying the
American flag. They made a beautiful mass of color as they grouped
themselves around the statue, against the abundant green foliage of the
park.
The Administration met this simple reasonable form of protest by
further arrests.
Mrs. Lawrence Lewis of Philadelphia, the first speaker, began: “We are
here because when our country is at war for liberty and democracy . .
.” At that point she was roughly seized by a policeman and placed under
arrest. The great audience stood in absolute and amazed silence.
Miss Hazel Hunkins of Montana took her place. “Here at the statue of
Lafayette, who fought for the liberty of this country,” she began, “and
under the American flag, I am asking for . . .” She was immediately
arrested.
Miss Vivian Pierce of California began: “President Wilson has said . .
.’ She was dragged from the plinth to the waiting patrol.
One after another came forward in an attempt to speak, but no one was
allowed to continue. Wholesale arrests followed. Just as the women were
being taken into custody, according to the New York Evening World of
August 13th, “the President walked out of the northeast gate of the
White House and up Pennsylvania Avenue for a conference with Director
General of Railroads McAdoo. The President glanced across the street
and smiled.”
Before the crowd could really appreciate what had happened, forty-eight
women had been hustled to the police station by the wagon load, their
gay banners floating from the backs of the somber patrols. They were
told that the police had arrested them under the orders of Col. C. S.
Ridley, the President’s military aide, and assistant to the Chief
Engineer attached to the War Department. All were released on bail and
ordered to appear in court the following day.
When they appeared they were informed by the Government’s attorney that
he would have to postpone the trial until the following Tuesday so that
he might examine witnesses to see “what offense, if any, the women
would be charged with.”
“I cannot go on with this case,” he said, “I have had no orders. There
are no precedents for cases like these . . . .”
The women demanded that their cases be dismissed, or else a charge made
against them. They were merely told to return on the appointed day.
Such was the indignation aroused against the Administration for taking
this action that Senator Curtis of Kansas, Republican whip, could say
publicly:
“The truth of this statement is made evident by the admission of the
court that the forty-eight suffragists are arrested upon absolutely no
charges, and that these women, among them munition workers and Red
Cross workers, are held in Washington until next Tuesday, under arrest,
while the United States attorney for the District of Columbia decides
for what offense, ‘if any,’ they were arrested.
“The meeting was called to make a justified protest against continued
blocking of the suffrage amendment by the Democratic majority in the
Senate. It is well known that three-fourths of the Republican
membership in the Senate are ready to vote for the amendment, but under
the control of the Democratic majority the Senate has recessed for six
weeks without making any provision for action on this important
amendment.
“In justice to the women who have been working so hard for the
amendment it should be passed at the earliest date, and if action is
not taken on it soon after the resumption of business in the Senate
there is every possibility that it will not be taken during this
Congress, and the hard-won victory in the House of Representatives will
have been won for nothing.”
When they finally came to trial ten days after their arrest, to face
the charge of “holding a meeting in public grounds,” and for eighteen
of the defendants an additional charge of “climbing on a statue,” the
women answered the roll call but remained silent thereafter. The
familiar farce ensued. Some were released for lack of identification.
The others were sentenced to the District Jail—for ten days if they had
merely assembled to hold a public meeting, for fifteen days if they had
also “climbed on a statue”
The Administration evidently hoped by lighter sentences to avoid a
hunger strike by the prisoners.
The women were taken immediately to a building, formerly used as a
man’s workhouse, situated in the swamps of the District prison grounds.
This building, which had been declared unfit for human habitation by a
committee appointed under President Roosevelt in 1909, and which had
been uninhabited ever since, was now reopened, nine years later, to
receive twenty-six women who had attempted to hold a meeting in a
public park in Washington. The women protested in a body and demanded
to be treated as political prisoners. This being refused, all save two
very elderly women, too frail to do so, went on hunger strike at once.
This last lodgment was the worst. Hideous aspects which had not been
encountered in the workhouse and jail proper were encountered here. The
cells, damp and cold, were below the level of the upper door and
entirely below the high windows. The doors of the cell were partly of
solid steel with only a small section of grating, so that a very tiny
amount of light penetrated the cells. The wash basins were small and
unsightly; the toilet open, with no pretense of covering. The cots were
of iron, without any spring, and with only a thin straw pallet to lie
upon. The heating facilities were antiquated and the place was always
cold. So frightful were the nauseating odors which permeated the place,
and so terrible was the drinking water from the disused pipes, that one
prisoner after another became violently ill.
“I can hardly describe that atmosphere,” said Mrs. W. D. Ascough, of
Connecticut. “It was a deadly sort of smell, insidious and revolting.
It oppressed and stifled us. There was no escape.”
As a kind of relief from these revolting odors, they took their straw
pallets from the cells to the floor outside. They were ordered back to
their cells but refused in a body to go. They preferred the stone
floors to the vile odors within, which kept them nauseated.
Conditions were so shocking that Senators began to visit their
constituents in this terrible hole. Many of them protested to the
authorities. Protests came in from the country, too.
At the end of the fifth day the Administration succumbed to the hunger
strike and released the prisoners, trembling with weakness, some of
them with chills and some of them in a high fever, scarcely able even
to walk to the ambulance or motor car.
We had won from the Administration, however, a concession to our
protest. Prior to the release of the prisoners we had announced that in
spite of the previous arrests a second protest meeting would be held on
the same spot. A permit to hold this second protest meeting was granted
us.
“I have been advised [Col. Ridley wrote to Miss Paul that you desire to
hold a demonstration in Lafayette Square on Thursday, August 9.2d. By
direction of the chief of engineers, U. S. Army, you are hereby granted
permission to hold this demonstration. You are advised good order must
prevail.”
“We received yesterday [Miss Paul replied] your permit for a suffrage
demonstration in Lafayette Park this afternoon, and are very glad that
our meetings are no longer to be interfered with. Because of the
illness of so many of our members, due to their treatment in prison
this last week, and with the necessity of caring for them at
headquarters, we are planning to hold our neat meeting a little later.
We have not determined on the exact date but we will inform you of the
time as soon as it is decided upon.”
It was reported on credible authority that this concession -was the
result of a conference at which the President, Secretary of War Baker
and Colonel Ridley were present. It was said that Secretary Baker and
Colonel Ridley persuaded the President to withdraw the orders to arrest
us and allow our meetings to go on, even though they took the form of
attacks upon the President.
Two days after the release of the women, the Republican Party, for the
first time in the history of woman suffrage, caucused in the Senate in
favor of forcing suffrage to a vote.
The resolution which was passed unanimously by the caucus determined to
“insist upon consideration immediately” and ‘also to insist upon a
final vote . . . at the earliest possible moment …. Provided, That this
resolution shall not be construed as in any way binding the action or
vote of any Member of the Senate upon the merits of the said woman
suffrage amendment.”
While not a direct attempt, therefore, to win more Republican Senators,
this proved a very great tactical contribution to the cause. The
Republicans were proud of their suffrage strength. They knew the
Democrats were not. With the Congressional elections approaching the
Republicans meant to do their part toward acquainting the country with
the Administration’s policy of vacillation and delay. This was not only
helpful to the Republicans politically; it was also advantageous to the
amendment in that it goaded the majority into action.
Nine months had passed since the vote in the House and we were
perilously near the end of the session, when on the 16th of September,
Senator Overman, Democrat, Chairman of the Rules Committee, stated to
our Legislative Chairman that suffrage was “not on the program for this
session” and that the Senate would recess in a few days for the
election campaigns without considering any more legislation. On the
same day Senator Jones, Chairman of the Suffrage Committee, announced
to us that he would not even call his Committee together to consider
taking a vote.
We had announced a fortnight earlier that another protest meeting would
be held at the base of the Lafayette Monument that day, September 16th,
at four o’clock. No sooner had this protest been announced than the
President publicly stated that he would receive a delegation of
Southern and Western women partisans on the question of the amendment
at two o’clock the same day.
To this delegation he said, “I am, as I think you know, heartily in
sympathy with you. I have endeavored to assist you in every way in my
power, and I shall continue to do so. I will do all I can to urge the
passage of the amendment by an early vote.”
Presumably this was expected to disarm us and perhaps silence our
demonstration. However, it merely moved us to make another hasty visit
to Senator Overman, Chairman of the Rules Committee, and to Senator
Jones, Chairman of the Suffrage Committee, between the hours of two and
four to see if the President’s statement that he would do all he could
to secure an early vote had altered their statements made earlier in
the day.
These Administration leaders assured us that their statements stood;
that no provision had been made for action on the amendment; that the
President’s statement did not mean that a vote would be taken this
session; and that they did not contemplate being so advised by him.
Such a situation was intolerable. The President was uttering more fine
words, while his Administration leaders interpreted them to mean
nothing, because they were not followed up by action on his part.
We thereupon changed our demonstration at four o’clock to a more
drastic form of protest. We took these words of the President to the
base of Lafayette Monument and burned them in a flaming torch.
A throng gathered to hear the speakers. Ceremonies were opened with the
reading of the following appeal by Mrs. Richard Wainwright, wife of
Rear-Admiral Wainwright:
“Lafayette, we are here!
“We, the women of the United States, denied the liberty which you
helped to gain, and for which we have asked in vain for sixty years,
turn to you to plead for us.
“Speak, Lafayette, dead these hundred years but still living in the
hearts of the American people. Speak again to plead for us like the
bronze woman at your feet, condemned like us to a silent appeal. She
offers you a sword. Will you not use for us the sword of the spirit,
mightier far than the sword she holds out to you?
“Will you not ask the great leader of democracy to look upon the
failure of our beloved country to be in truth the place where every one
is free and equal and entitled to a share in the government? Let that
outstretched hand of yours pointing to the White House recall to him
his words and promises, his trumpet call for all of us, to see that the
world is made safe for democracy.
“As our army now in France spoke to you there, saying here we are to
help your country fight for liberty, will you not speak here and now
for us, a little band with no army, no power but justice and right, no
strength but in our Constitution and in the Declaration of
Independence; and win a great victory again in this country by giving
us the opportunity we ask,—to be heard through the Susan B. Anthony
amendment.
“Lafayette, we are here!”
Before the enthusiastic applause for Mrs. Wainwright’s appeal had died
away, Miss Lucy Branham of Baltimore stepped forward with a flaming
torch, which she applied to the President’s latest words on suffrage.
The police looked on and smiled, and the crowd cheered as she said:
“The torch which I hold symbolizes the burning indignation of the women
who for years have been given words without action . . . .
“For five years women have appealed to this President and his party for
political freedom. The President has given words, and words, and words.
To-day women receive more words. We announce to the President and the
whole world to-day, by this act of ours, our determination that words
shall not longer be the only reply given to American women—our
determination that this same democracy for whose establishment abroad
we are making the utmost sacrifice, shall also prevail at home.
“We have protested to this Administration by banners; we have protested
by speeches; we now protest by this symbolic act.
“As in the ancient fights for liberty, the crusaders for freedom
symbolized their protest against those responsible for injustice by
consigning their hollow phrases to the flames, so we, on behalf of
thousands of suffragists, in this same way to-day protest against the
action of the President and his party in delaying the liberation of
American women.”
Mrs. Jessie Hardy Mackaye of Washington, D. C., then came forward to
the end of the plinth to speak, and as she appeared, a man in the crowd
handed her a twenty-dollar bill for the campaign in the Senate. This
was the signal for others. Bills and coins were passed up. Instantly
marshals ran hither and thither collecting the money in improvised
baskets while the cheers grew louder and louder. Many of the policemen
present were among the donors.
Burning President Wilson’s words had met with popular approval from a
large crowd!
The procession of women was starting back to headquarters, the police
were eagerly clearing the way for the line; the crowd was dispersing in
order; the great golden banner, “Mr. President, what will you do for
woman suffrage?” was just swinging past the White House gate, when
President Wilson stepped into his car for the afternoon drive.